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navybrat817 · 3 months

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How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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prying-pandora666 · 3 months

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From Zutara to Sokkla - Narrative Framing and Hypocrisy

Something that boggles me about the fandom is the complete double standard between Zuko and Sokka vs Katara and Azula.

A pretty noticeable example is how we frame the infamous “I’ll save you from the pirates” scene versus the Day of Black Sun.

The infamous pirates scene is often lauded (or condemned) as the birth of Zutara. Fans allege the tension between Zuko and Katara is palpable, and that their attraction is clear.

But let’s consider:

Katara isn’t a realized bender yet. She can’t defend herself. She’s surrounded by hardened adult criminals with weapons who have it out for her, and two firebenders (like the man who killed her mother!) who have been pursuing her doggedly, one of whom has shown he is quick to use violence even against civilians and the elderly.

Zuko dangles Katara’s necklace in front of her, the only item she has left of her mother, and threatens to take it away forever if she doesn’t sell out her friends.

If you want to read romance in this harrowing scene, feel free. It’s fiction and I’m not the morality police. Have fun!

What bothers me is the hypocrisy in how people frame this scene by comparison:

Consider this: Azula can’t bend. She’s unarmed. She’s pinned to the wall and has no means of escape. Her enemy is armed, is the architect of this invasion, has an army outside ready to follow him, and is currently flanked by an unstoppable earthbender and the friggin Avatar!

Azula is using herself as bait to protect her father (and ostensibly Zuko) knowing her life would be in terrible danger for minimum of 8 minutes. During which the enemy can do anything to her. The Fire Nation has done a lot of harm and there are surely many soldiers out there who would love to take their revenge on the Fire Nation’s pretty little princess who conquered the “impenetrable” capital of the Earth Kingdom.

The show goes out of its way to inform us that Azula is an expert at hiding her emotions. She can even fool Toph’s lie detector. Why?

Many people misinterpret this as a sign that Azula is an emotionless sociopath or whatever ableist pop-sci ideas they have about ASPD.

In reality, it’s the opposite. Azula being an expert at hiding her feelings is made clear so that we understand why she doesn’t look terrified, or vulnerable, or sad, or hurt until the finale when she finally cracks and her facade slips.

All she has at her disposal to protect herself is her wits (she had a knife and some Dai Li, but she has neither by this point). She smartly uses what she knows about Sokka to exploit his weakness and buy herself time. She’s so good at getting under his skin (which takes a sophisticated level of weaponized empathy) that even after he figures out what she’s doing, Sokka still can’t help himself.

This is all she can do to protect herself and her father. We as the audience know that Sokka and Toph aren’t going to kill or maim her, but Azula doesn’t!

So why in the world was this scene received as traumatic for Sokka?

Fans will claim that Azula’s mind games in this scene left Sokka with lasting trauma. That this is emotional abuse.

But who is the one pinned to the wall with no way to defend herself? Who is the one with weapons to threaten her with, and powerful allies who have it out for her?

If Sokka experienced any lasting trauma from this altercation, he sure never showed it! Sokka never seems to think much about Azula at all outside of wanting a rematch when it’s presented at the Boiling Rock. And even that is due to his feelings of inadequacy after the invasion. He even makes fun of Suki for being captured by Azula! Doubt he would do that if she had genuinely been tortured or if Sokka had been so traumatized by this scene.

Suki: Are you trying to get on my bad side?

Meanwhile, Katara does seem to have lasting trauma over her repeated altercations with Zuko. She talks about how he chased them all around the world threatening them. She refuses to trust him after he betrays her and fears he will get Aang killed. Zuko did hire an assassin.

In what universe can we read Zuko and the pirates threatening a helpless Katara as “romantic” but the scene with Sokka and Toph threatening a helpless Azula as “traumatic for Sokka”?

Only a universe where we have already subconsciously decided we are on Zuko and Sokka’s side.

These scenes can only be read that way if we have already decided Zuko isn’t that bad regardless of how Katara feels about what he does to her, and that Azula is pure evil regardless of what anyone does to her.

It’s a world where both Azula and Katara’s feelings are ignored.

If you want to read the pirate scene as romantic? Have fun. Enjoy your fics. It’s all good.

But let’s not pretend Zuko is some pure woobie in this scene that just needs some Katara loving, while Azula is some fearless psychopathic monster that enjoys putting herself in danger as long as she gets to “abuse” Sokka.

There’s a reason these two scenes exist this way. Katara and Zuko are parallels just as Azula and Sokka are. Katara and Azula are foils just like Sokka and Zuko are.

Fandom can and should do better by Katara and Azula. They deserve just as much consideration and empathy for their suffering and unmet needs as their brothers do. Even if Azula was a villain - so was Zuko for most of the show!

And as a pretty consequence, I can say this: Zutara and Sokkla are equally viable.

Goodnight, shippers.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #Zutara #Sokkla #zuko #katara #sokka #azula

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

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Double Trouble

Dad Series

Toji Fushiguro

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Hmm… Honey…” You feel as your husband’s lips kiss your neck, his lips going lower and lower with each kiss. It’s what he looks forward to every single night after he knows the kids are asleep— Of course this and spending some quality time with you. He keeps going, and just when he’s about to get to the sweetest part, he hears a bloodcurdling scream.

Both of you stop, your eyes widening as your body begins to fill with worry. Luckily enough, you’re both decent so you step out of the room and go to Megumi’s room, where you both heard the scream. Toji is big and strong enough to fight just about anybody off. Toji doesn’t bother knocking before he barges into the room, he makes sure you’re behind him so if anything happens, you’ll be protected.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?!” You hear Megumi yell, and you immediately know he’s at his wit’s end because he’s generally the kindest kid. He’s so well-behaved and wouldn’t dare to speak like that, unlike your husband.

“What happened here?” Toji asks, seeing how one twin is under Megumi’s bed while the other lays down on the bed. Megumi is definitely upset. “Kisho, get up from under there, what the hell are you doing?”

“Nice language, honey. Nice language.” You remind him. You walk over to Megumi, whose arms are crossed and would definitely be hitting his siblings if he didn’t have the ounce of self-control that’s left in his body. Your hand runs up and down Megumi’s back, hoping that’ll get him to calm down. “What did the twins do?”

“Why are they here? I woke up because Koemi was sleeping on top of me, and when I got on the floor I felt Kisho’s hand wrap around my ankle.” Megumi shares, and it makes Toji’s hand go over his mouth so he doesn’t show the smile on his face, and he can suppress his laugh.

“What are you two doing here?” You question as Kisho tries to take a seat on Megumi’s bed, but he struggles because it’s too high for him to reach. You look back and forth between the twins.

“I had a nightmare and didn’t want to bother you.” Koemi responds. You then focus on the other twin.

“I have to protect her here. She says she’s scared of monsters under the bed so I have to make sure.” Kisho answers, which still doesn’t explain why he wrapped his hand around Megumi’s ankle.

“So why did you wrap your hand around Megumi’s ankle?” Toji asks. The little boy looks ever-so-innocent when he says,

“I thought he was a monster.” He claims, making Toji burst out laughing.

“Thank you, dad. I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.” Megumi glares at his father.

“C’mon you little rascals. You’re sleeping with mommy and me tonight.” Toji tells the twins in-between laughs. He watches the twins get off Megumi’s bed and begin to walk to your room.

His plans were ruined, but he surely doesn’t mind it.

#[dad series]#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu toji #toji zenin #dilf toji #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x you #daddy toji #toji imagine #dad toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #jjk toji #toji fluff #toji x reader

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simp4fictionalmenandjesus · 1 year

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yandere rin itoshi>>>

he will be soooo cold and not outwardly affectionate (at first) but on the inside he is absolutely OBSESSED.

like rin will seem literally so indifferent to you, but every-time you glance at him, he’ll be purposely not making eye contact because if he does he will be SOOOO RED, because even though it doesn’t show, your slightest acknowledgment cause rin to FREAK out. ‘omg omg omg she’s looking at me what do i do… she’s so pretty fuck i love her so much. if she keeps looking over here i don’t think i’ll be able to restrain myself🙏🙏🙏.’

you would think that when you start dating it gets better but bro… it gets worse💀💀💀. you’ll text him, not anything specific, just a normal text, something as simple as ‘hi, what are you up to?’ and he will leave you on read. it takes him around 8 hours to reply because he is overfilled with joy that you texted him. he is giggling and kicking his feet in the air type shit.

one day you texted him, asking if he wanted to get dinner, this was the first time that rin’s teammates have ever witnessed him smile. you texted him before his game against the U-20 japan team, wishing him luck and telling him you’d be cheering in the stands, and omfg. everyone in that locker room was like 🙀. rin was straight up smiling, and not one of those devious smiles his teammates were used to, this smile was a soft, ‘i’m so in love’ smile. you best believe that someone, (bachira), teased him PROFUSELY.

talking about the U-20 game, the first thing he did on court, before directing murderous thoughts towards his brother, was look for you in the stands. when he found you, he smiled softly, which you 100% could not see because well, you didn’t bring binoculars. after the match, he went to find you immediately, he didn’t even bother changing out of his jersey, so bro was sweaty as hell.

he hugged you incredibly tight, like bone crushingly tight. he lifted you up the ground and was kissing you profusely. this was actually the turning point in your relationship where rin started showing affection.

he introduced you to the blue lock team that day, just because he did not want to let you out of his sight for a second but he had to recuperate with ego and the team. so essentially. rin forced you to wait outside the locker rooms for him while he showered and since he was clinging to you straight after the match, his teammates finished before him and walked out of the locker room to see you, in rin’s jacket.

again, everyone went 🙀. you were bombarded with questions about your relationship, and by the time rin finished with his shower, you were already well acquainted with the blue lock boys.

rin was not happy about this at all. how dare they, his rivals, talk to you. he definitely dragged you away and kept you for himself, if his teammates and you exchanged numbers, he’d immediately block them and delete them off your phone.

he wouldn’t show his obsessive tendencies until you’ve been in a relationship with him for longer, the only reason he hadn’t kept you exclusively by his side so far was because he didn’t have the power to do so. he forces you to go to all of his games, press conferences, sometimes he’ll even drag you along to his practice whether you are busy or not, in fact, you probably won’t be busy because he’s made sure that you don’t have a job with long hours or a job at all. oh? what if you’re hanging out with friends? well, that won’t do… it’s time for some guilt tripping. “oh… but I need you there, are you friends more important than me?”

You’ll be spending every hour of the day with him, because after his games, press conferences and practices, he’ll bring you out for a meal, and then you’re going back home with him.

rin is the type of person who wants their loved one to rely solely on them. he’s really subtle with it too. he’ll slowly incorporate himself into every factor of your life, he wants your life to revolve around him, just as much as his revolves around you.

If you ever do realise how possessive and frankly, psycho he is, and try to leave him... well, i did say this man is a simp, rin will be begging on his knees, tears falling out of his eyes, hugging you tightly and not letting you go. honestly, you’ll be shocked because this is the first time you’ve seen him be sooooo emotional.

and if you try to get help from law enforcement? well, i hate to break it to you, but that’s never gonna work, because blue lock, and subsequently the government spent so much money to make these insane strikers and rin is one of, if not, the best strikers in the world. it’ll be covered up and you’ll be trapped.

as soon as you’re in captivity, his affection will dial up to 110%. now, he let’s his innermost thoughts out, because you’re finally all his. <3

#yandere rin itoshi #yandere itoshi rin #yandere rin itoshi x reader #yandere itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock x reader #yandere blue lock #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #yandere blue lock x reader #s4fmaj fics

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

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Best Kept Secret

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.4k

summary : reader and din have a tea party, just not with each other

warnings, etc. : language, angst

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

“What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly.

“Excuse me?” He can’t seem to remember her name as he struggles to his feet. She pokes a finger into his chest, for someone staring down a bounty hunter she sure seemed to have a lot of confidence in her ability to intimidate him.

“The princess. What did you do to her? She’s got bruises, she’s hardly eating, and she’s all melancholy in there. And I think you’ve got something to do with it.”

Shit, shit, shit.

He has several responses forming in his mind right now, all of which would make him appear guiltless. Then his stupidly tired brain decides he’s taking too long so instead he blurts out the first words to force their way out.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

He couldn’t be more of an idiot.

The woman grabs his arm and starts dragging him away from your door. He could easily resist but he’s so embarrassed by his own fuck up he doesn’t bother as she pulls him towards an unfamiliar part of the castle, descending staircase after staircase until they reach the servants quarters and she shoves him into a room. It’s about the size of the cabin, a small kitchen in one corner, a sofa in the other, a fireplace with small burning embers dimly illuminating the stone walls, and a twin bed in the back. He recognizes the girl currently snoring softly under the blankets as your other servant.

“Sit.” The Togruta girl snaps at him, pointing at the wooden table.

Of course this is where he decides to finally take a stand and he crosses his arms, staring at her.

Doesn’t last for long as she starts setting things up at the stove.

“Sit or I’m not giving you any caf.” She doesn’t bother turning around and he doesn’t bother resisting further at the promise of caffeine as he sits at the table.

He doesn’t speak as she puts a pot on the stove to boil. He feels a bit like a child who’s about to be scolded. For several minutes the only sounds are the other girl's soft snores and the crackle of the fire as he tries to keep his eyes open.

He must have fallen asleep for a second because he jolts upright as she slams a mug down in front of him.

“Drink. You look like shit.”

“You have no idea what I look like.” He mutters as his hand grips the mug.

“I do. You look like shit and you look like you haven’t slept in days. Drink.”

She says as she walks over to the bed, facing the wall and blocking his view of the other girl. “Be quick about it.” She takes a sip from her own mug. “Tell me when you’re done.”

In any other scenario he would refuse, or at the very least protest but he hasn’t had caf in a long time, he misses the bitter taste, and he should probably have his wits about him for the conversation they’re about to have. So he releases the airlock and lifts his helmet, quickly swallowing down the mug.

The fact that he’s a little intimidated by the woman has nothing to do with his sudden obedience. At least that’s what he tells himself as he locks his helmet back in place.

“I’m finished.” He can feel the familiar buzz of the caffeine as it flows through his system as he temporarily gets to feel a bit more conscious.

“Good.” She turns and walks over, taking a seat across from him as she stares at him expectantly.

His hands get clammy and he can feel his palms sticking to the insides of his gloves.

This must be what his bounties feel like when he interrogates them.

“What did you do to her?” She finally breaks the silence, continuing to glare at him.

That’s a good question.

He had loved you.

There isn’t a doubt in his mind about that.

He had been limited to only showing it to you physically, and when you had shown him a glimmer of something outside of that realm he had turned that love into something ugly.

And now, mere days later he has to wonder if he made the wrong choice.

He can’t exactly backtrack. He said terrible things to you. His own words from that night echo around in his helmet, taunting him.

What did he do to you?

He was starting to get a little worried that he might have broken you.

You had spent all day scribbling in the library like a woman possessed. Truly that could have nothing to do with him though, he’s certain he couldn’t have possibly meant that much to you. Enough to drive you mad.

The Togruta girl snaps her fingers in front of the helmet.

“Hey, shiny, snap out of it. I know you had something to do with it so start talking.”

Okay, maybe he did have something to do with it.

No, what does she know about what had happened between the two of you? Well apparently she has wickedly good intuition, and he did basically already confess.

“I’m not sure.” He wishes his voice didn’t tremble slightly but he can’t help it.

“You aren’t sure…?” She grumbles as she finishes her mug. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. Tell me what happened.”

And there’s no rational reason to.

Or at the very least, there’s no rational reason to tell her the truth.

And maybe it’s because he’s so tired.

Or maybe it’s because this girl reminds him of someone he once knew, before he took this job.

But he tells her.

He leaves out a lot of the gorey details but he gives her the gist, she sits quietly the entire time as he whispers the things that transpired. And when he’s done he expects her to maybe tell him he did the right thing by ending it, or offer him words of comfort for what’s happened but instead she squints her eyes as she stares him down.

“You’re an idiot.” She says matter of factly as she leans back in her chair.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. You are dumb as shit.”

“I did what needed to be done. Things were getting out of hand.”

She scoffs.

“Out of hand? So you’re allowed to do nice things for her like buy her jewelry, and take her on little dates in the garden, but she isn’t allowed to do them for you? Seems pretty stupid to me. And your game is dumb, if you want to know things about her all you have to do is ask, the poor girl would talk to the walls if they’d talk back.” She takes the pot and pours herself another mug of caf, filling his as well. He doesn’t touch it. “And you say you don’t like her rules but it sounds to me like you’re the one who needed them, she didn’t break any rules you didn’t break first.”

He crosses his arms in front of him, ready to retort but every response dies on his tongue.

She’s right.

And he doesn’t want to have to ask her for advice but there’s no one else to ask.

“So what do I do? How do I fix this?”

She chokes a bit on her caf.

“Fix it? Oh hon, you’ve done a lot of damage in a short amount of time.”

If she could see through the steel she’d see the way his ears tinged pink in embarrassment.

“So I shouldn’t do anything?” Even he knows he sounds way too sullen.

She sighs and contemplates for a moment.

“Look… normally I’d say yes. But I can’t deny that she seemed happier on days when things were okay with the two of you.”

“So what should I do?” He leans forward a bit in his seat.

“I’d start with an apology, and you better make it good, especially after what you’ve put her through.”

“Okay. Tomorrow I will try that.”

He does, try, that is. The most he gets out is static, a crackle of his modulator before he shuts right up. He’s pretty sure you notice.

“And then, no more lies. No more beating around the bush. If you’re going to put her through this again you need to be certain and you need to be honest. No more pretending it’s just physical, you tell her exactly what you want and exactly how you feel.”

He also tried that. After Kodo had struck you he had pulled together all of his resolve and told himself that he would just spit it out. Instead he had accidentally insulted you and threatened your husband.

“Okay, I can do that. Umm… What about Kodo?” She takes another sip as he speaks.

“What about him?”

“Should I not take into account the fact that she’s married?”

She laughs, a genuine chuckle.

“Have you seen them together? She looks at him like he’s some mud that she’s accidentally stepped in. Look, if they were happy together, or if I ever thought they could work it out then I might tell you to back off but trust me, those two will never make it work. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man.”

He’s a bit taken aback by her words.

“Now go. I’m gonna get some shut-eye, I’d tell you to do the same but I know you won’t.”

He stands, nodding at her.

“And take the caf. You need it more than I do, if you’re gonna insist on not sleeping.” She sets hers down as she stretches her arms above her head. He takes his mug gratefully in his hands.

“...Thank you.”

She only nods in response, he opens the door of her quarters.

“Mandalorian.”

His hand is on the doorknob as he turns to look back at the woman.

“Don’t play with her. Either leave her alone or put in the effort.”

He hesitates for a moment before he leaves.

✩

When your eyes flutter open the first thing you think is that your face should be hurting, your lip should be much more swollen.

But when your fingers poke at your lip you find it to be mostly healed.

You stand and leave the closet, walking over to the mirror and inspecting your wounds. There’s no trace of the red welt you would have thought you’d have. The only trace of the incident is a faint pink and white line through your lip.

Finding the vial on the bed you carefully walk over to the mirror and apply another layer to the mark as Elaine and Lysa knock once as a warning before stepping into the room. You set the tube down on the vanity.

It’s another hazy morning.

They really are all blending together when you don’t have things to do.

You’re dressed in a lacy orange gown. It’s flowy and cool, it seems like it would be perfect for a day in the gardens. Before you even realize what you’re doing you turn to Elaine.

“Would you like to have tea with me today?” You have no idea what inspires you to ask such a question and you’re sure she’ll say no. That she’ll tell you it isn’t proper for a servant to do such a thing with you but instead she nods.

“That would be lovely, my lady. Where would you like to have it?” She wipes her hands on the front of her dress as she gives you a patient smile.

“How about the gardens? There’s that gazebo by the water we could sit at.”

✩

You have no idea when she instructed someone to set it up but as the two of you walk towards the gardens there is miraculously already a table with chairs set up inside. A tray of tea steaming in the center of it all.

You walk in silence, in all honestly it would probably be a comfortable silence if it weren’t for the looming presence of the Mandalorian behind you. Once the two of you step into the wooden structure, taking your seats you clear your throat, awkwardly, seeing him standing beside you in your peripherals.

Elaine stares at him and the both of you sit, looking at each other uncomfortably until you finally turn and speak to him.

“Can we have some privacy?” You shoot him a look as you say it and he takes a single, theatrical step back.

Jackass.

You’re about to just give up, he’s never wavered previously, why would he start now? But Elaine speaks up.

“I believe she asked for privacy.”

You lean over towards her to tell her it’s useless, there’s no sense in arguing with him but your eyes go wide as he begins to walk away. You turn to stare at Elaine like she just performed an act of god.

As the Mandalorian starts walking along the edge of the water you can’t seem to pick your jaw up off the floor, you have more questions than ever for her but none of them seem to flow, so she speaks first.

“Do you want to talk about what happened at dinner last night?” She’s pouring tea into the mugs, mixing a generous amount of sugar and cream into yours.

“You heard about that?” The nearly invisible mark on your face stings at the memory.

“Servants talk, I’m afraid it was inevitable that I would hear of it. Do you want to tell me what happened?” She hands you the mug and you take it in both your hands.

She doesn’t ask if you’re okay.

Like she knows you couldn’t possibly be.

“Not really. There isn’t much to talk about, it all happened really fast.” You take a sip, it’s sweet just like the caf she makes you, it warms your tongue and puts you at ease.

She hums softly, sipping her own, much darker tea.

“He’s always had a temper that one, the king and queen did not keep a close enough eye on him growing up, and when no one ever says no it’s easy to quickly become a little monster.” She frowns as she speaks and you have to fight to keep the surprised look off your face, the servants never spoke ill of him.

You know this is probably a dangerous conversation but at this point you’re so lonely and things can’t possibly get worse.

“Honestly, I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I knew with his pattern of behavior it was inevitable.” You mutter.

She has a breathy sad laugh.

“Smart girl.” She raises her cup towards Mando. He looks like a kid being left out of a game on the playground as he kicks a stone into the lake. “He seems more upset about it than you.” She raises her eyebrows, now you’re really treading dangerous waters.

“Mando? He doesn’t care, I think he just doesn’t want me getting banged up because it makes him look like he’s bad at his job.” Deep down you know that isn’t the case.

“Really? So he wasn’t the one who tore that book in half that I found in the hallway this morning?” She takes another sip as she stares at him out across the water, you choke on your tea.

“In half?” Your voice is a shocked whisper. It had been by no means a short book. It had been a hardcover, thick encyclopedia.

“In half. Took Leo quite some time to pick up all that shredded paper.” She chuckles. Setting down her mug as she stares at you with an intensity you weren’t prepared for.

She takes a deep breath that has you nervously tapping your nails against your cup.

“I know that it’s hard, being in your position, to find people to confide in. But if you ever need to talk about something that’s bothering you, I am available, my lady. And I can be extremely discreet.” She folds her hands in her lap as you stare down at them. Unable to meet her gaze.

What a breath of fresh air it would be, to have a friend, with no other complicated feelings. But you can’t just tell her what you’ve done.

“I am not blind, princess. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay. And I know for a fact that you were doing more than okay for a few days and in an instant I saw all of that disappear.” She tilts her head down so she’s in your eyeline and you’re sure your face has a look of guilt on it.

If it was just your life on the line you’d probably tell her everything. Just to get it out. But it’s not just your life, it’s his. You shudder as you imagine the things Kodo would do to him if he found out.

But you could twist the truth.

Tell her harmless details and maybe still find some comfort.

“He had been my friend. Briefly.” Your words are careful and deliberate.

She nods, picking up her glass once more. Staying silent as an invitation for you to keep going.

“At least… I thought he was my friend. Now I sort of think he might have just been messing with me.” You’re still being cautious with every detail you reveal. Keeping it simple and innocent. “And I guess he got bored. It’s confusing, I can’t keep up with him, it makes my head spin because he keeps changing.”

“Changing?”

She picks up the teapot, refilling your mugs.

“It’s… hard to explain. It’s like, he’s a different person everyday. Some days he can’t stand me and some days he-“ You manage to catch yourself before you go one step too far. “Some days he cares for me. I’m starting to wonder if he just enjoys making me miserable.” You pour another spoonful of sugar into your mug.

“I think he cares for you very much.” She says it so matter of factly that you almost roll your eyes at the notion.

“I doubt that. If that is the case he has a really fucked up way of showing it.”

“Look at him.” She nods out towards the lake and when you turn he’s crouched down next to the edge of the water.

He’s deadly still for a moment and then he slowly reaches down and scoops something up from the surface of the water. Holding it close to his helmet as he stands. Completely focused on whatever is in his hand.

He looks strangely domesticated.

You watch as what you now realize is a frog, jumps out of his hand back into the lake.

He stares at his empty palm for a long time.

“He looks like a lost puppy without you. I have to wonder what he was doing before he took this job because it seems like he doesn't know what to do with himself when he isn’t wagging his tail and trailing behind you.” She chuckles and you can’t help but laugh softly with her.

It feels good to laugh.

It feels less good to blurt out your next question.

“Have you ever, umm… talked to him?” You don’t want to ask it, it feels so childish but you can’t help it as you turn back to face her, hoping there isn’t any lingering jealousy in your tone.

“A little bit. Enough to know that I’m right, he does care for you.”

You cough awkwardly.

“What did he say?”

You catch her smirk right before she takes another sip.

“Mostly he seemed to have a lot of excuses. But I think his real issue is just that he’s scared.”

Huh.

It’s difficult to picture him scared of anything.

“Scared?”

“I think this is a conversation you should be having with him.”

“But he won’t talk to me, the first time he’s spoken to me all week was only because of what Kodo did.”

“It isn’t my place to tell you how to deal with him. I just know that you seemed happier when things were good between the two of you.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two if you drink and you come to terms with her words. She speaks first.

“He doesn’t sleep either.”

“What?”

“The Mandalorian. He isn’t sleeping. He just sits in front of your door all night.”

You had suspected that to be the case but the confirmation makes your heart skip a beat.

“He just sits there? What is he doing?”

“I only see him there in passing, I do a lot of my errands at night, I’m more productive when I’m the only one roaming the castle. It seems like he’s just waiting for you.”

You frown.

“Waiting for me to do what?”

She laughs.

“He’s just waiting for you.”

There’s that ache in your chest. She leans forward to give you a sympathetic look, your pain must show on your face.

“How about we talk about something else for a bit?” Her voice is soft and comforting as you nod.

“What about you, do you have a special someone?” You laugh for a moment until you realize your slip up and the color drains from your face. “Like, a friend.”

Real smooth, dummy.

She doesn’t seem fazed though as she grins.

“Yeah, I’ve got a special friend.” She laughs to herself and you relax a bit. She looks towards the lake and back at you before raising her eyebrows. He’s walking back over as she changes the subject. “What are you planning on wearing tomorrow?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“How should I know? You and Lysa always pick for me.” She rolls her eyes at your response.

“I meant to the ball.”

The confusion must be apparent on your face because she sighs.

“Of course no one told you. Maker, is anyone else in the castle capable of treating you like a person other than me?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kodo’s birthday is tomorrow. He makes a big deal of it every year, it’s a huge party, you of course will be expected to attend.”

You don’t bother stifling your groan.

“And I absolutely have to go to this?”

She pats your knee as she leans back in her chair, eyeing the Mandalorian up and down as he walks into the gazebo, standing on the opposite side of it, away from the two of you.

“I’m afraid you do, but don’t fret, he’s always so preoccupied during this thing that you won’t have to worry about staying for long. You’ll just need to make an appearance as his wife for a bit and you should be able to leave after a few hours if you'd like. It tends to get a bit rowdy as the night goes on so I suggest getting out once the opportunity presents itself.”

You nod, this must be is what it feels like to have a friend.

It makes you realize that you and the Mandalorian had never really been friends, that was completely different than what this was. With him there was always something more there, something demanding your attention that you always managed to ignore. With Elaine it’s easy to just talk without any other feelings lingering in the air.

“I suppose I will wear whatever you decide is best.” You give her a grin.

“If that is what you wish.”

“But not blue.” She raises an eyebrow as you say that but she’s smirking.

“Excellent choice.”

Your eyes dart over to the Mandalorian, he’s facing away from the two of you, giving you a false sense of privacy as you look back to Elaine.

“And not green.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

You don’t talk about much else of importance after that. She tells you that she wants to make dresses someday, and you tell her about some of the romance novels you’ve read.

The Mandalorian stays in the gazebo, a reminder to keep things light.

She tells you that Lysa is a rather talented piano player, and that Leodall dreams of one day becoming a lord or a duke. It’s nice, casual. You want to do it again at some point and when you tell her that, she happily agrees.

Eventually she walks you back to the castle, he walks behind the two of you, always just out of reach until you make it back inside.

You can’t help it.

You hug her.

Mumbling a thank you, because you feel worlds better after having a conversation with someone with no tensions and no ulterior motives.

She departs and you walk to the library, reading another cheesy romance novel at your drawing table until the sun has set.

He still doesn’t speak, every so often he’ll pace the length of the room at one point you’re pretty sure he trips over nothing. How odd. You return to your quarters as always, ready to turn in for the night.

✩

Except you can’t.

You pace back and forth throughout your room. Your bare feet shuffling across the cool wood floors.

He’s ruining your sleep again.

Because now you can’t close your eyes without thinking about how he’s out there, waiting for you.

You had wanted comfort and maybe even closure from Elaine but instead you’re more confused than ever.

He wants you, he doesn’t want you, he hates you, he’s willing to die for you. None of it makes sense and he’s out there.

Your chest hurts thinking about him all alone out there every night. Even if he hates you, and doesn’t want you.

You’d feel better if he was at least sleeping out there. But no, he’s awake and aware and always there.

Is he listening in? Has he turned up the helmet to listen to the soft patter of your footsteps? Why would he be doing that? He’s supposed to not care about you, to not want you. But according to Elaine that isn’t the case? Every single hour he gets more and more confusing, you want to scream at him. You want to punch him in his stupid Beskar face. (Mostly because you know it wouldn’t really hurt him all that bad.) You want to demand answers, demand he leave you alone, or demand he take it all back.

Could you forgive him?

You’re pretty sure you want to forgive him.

You just aren’t sure if you can.

That is, of course, if he ever apologizes.

Does he want to apologize?

Why would he have said all those things in the first place if he didn’t mean them?

You don’t remember opening the door. But right now you’re staring down at him and he’s staring up at you, so you must have at one point. He’s sitting with his legs out in front of him as you take a step back, leaving the door open.

A silent invitation in.

You’re worried for a moment that he isn’t going to accept it but he slowly gets to his feet. Stretching his arms back a bit with a groan as he takes a step in.

You hadn’t seen it before but now you don’t know how you didn't realize how exhausted he looks. You don’t even know how he’s still standing as he stumbles into the room as you close the door, clicking the lock shut.

His shoulders are slumped forward, his usual imposing posture is completely gone and his helmet keeps tilting downwards before jolting back up, like he’s barely keeping his eyes open.

It’s torture, never being able to stay angry at him.

You had no plan when you’d let him in. Maybe yell at him, demand answers, demand he free you of this curse that is wanting to be his.

But you can’t do that. Not when he’s looking around like he doesn’t even know where he is. Maker, when was the last time he slept?

Reaching forward you take his hand, leading him over to the bed and sitting him down.

“Mando?” You say it like you’re speaking to a lost child who can’t find their parents.

He hums softly in response, the helmet tilting up to look at you as you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

“You’re gonna sleep here. The door is locked so you don’t have to worry about anyone taking off your helmet, okay?”

He nods and your heart stops as his hand comes up to your face. His thumb brushes over the nearly completely faded line on your lip.

“M’sorry… ner sarad’ika. Bid ni ceta.” His voice is a warm sleepy drawl and you have to close your eyes so he doesn’t see the pained look you have when he starts speaking in that soft tone, the gentle one you feel like you haven’t heard in ages, the one that’s just for you. You can’t help but wonder if he’ll remember any of this tomorrow.

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do this, remember? It was Kodo, not you.” You gingerly pull his hand from your face as you hold his arms, laying him down against the mattress.

You shouldn’t, not when he’s clearly so vulnerable but you can’t help yourself as you run your knuckles against the cold steel of his helmet, trying to soothe him.

“That’s not what I’m sorry about mesh’la.” His hands reach forward, asking for you, and you have to use all of your self control to not give in and just hold him. You settle for giving him your hands as you nod.

You need this to end. It’s too much and you know it’ll be gone in the morning. Once he gets some sleep he’ll be gone again. Standing behind you, your shadow. Not like right now, where he’s in front of you, and needs you. You can’t lose this again, you won’t be able to take it so you start to walk away but he pulls you down so you’re sitting next to him and he’s so gentle about it. He’s so out of it right now, he should be in his default state right now, he’s a trained killer, he should naturally be rough and aggressive with you, but he isn’t.

Even in this condition he makes a conscious choice to handle you like you might crumble to pieces if he isn’t careful.

At this point you might.

“I need to go to bed, Mando. I’ll be in the closet, right there if you need me.”

His grip on your hands tightens ever so slightly.

“Y’know that m’sorry, right? I need to know that you know.” His voice cracks on the last word and his voice is laced with a desperation you’ve never heard from him before. You even hear a little sniffle through the modulator.

Maker he must really be sleep deprived.

It feels like drowning. He’s taking you out into open waters with these words and in the morning he’ll be gone and you’ll be left without a life jacket.

“I know Mando.” His grip loosens enough for you to stand up. Your voice is strained. “I promise, I know, but I need you to get some sleep now, can you do that for me?”

He hesitates. Like he’s trying to make sure you understand.

“Okay, sarad’ika.”

He nods as he releases your hands, his shoulders relax and he’s asleep in minutes. Once you’ve certain he’s out cold you go back to the closet, leaving the door cracked in case he needs something as you curl up in your blankets.

Your hands fish around in the sheets and pillows until you find the book, pulling it out you open it and let the necklace he had given you fall out. Cradling it in your hands you trace the small charm with your fingers.

Sarad’ika.

He can’t do that to you.

He can’t just call you that again after what he did.

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing.

He decided he wanted to be nothing. So why should he get to say sweet things in Mando’a to you with no repercussions?

It makes your blood boil as you shove the necklace into one of the pillow cases, getting ready to go back out there and give him a piece of your mind but as you’re about to stand and pull yourself together you can hear rumbling, static snores from the other room.

And you can’t help but crack a smile.

He sounds like a fucking Wookiee when he snores.

Something about it makes you lay back down.

Like it reminds you that under all that perfect metal he is still only a man.

He needs sleep.

So do you.

Being angry with him can wait until tomorrow.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD

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amazon160 · 10 months

Text

The Spot/Ohnn x Reader

Reader’s long lost bf just walks up to her apartment after a few months of being announced dead :)

Knock, knock.

Your feet pitter-pattered to the apartment door. It was almost midnight. Something had to be up; no one showed up at your place at midnight. You slid your body against the door to peak through the door viewer. And you have to get a double take of what you’re seeing.

A white man-no, not like racially a white man, A LEGIT PURE BLEACH WHITE MAN-stood just outside your door. He had a pear of sweats, a long sleeve tie dye shirt and a funky looking hat that did a lousy job at covering his lack of a face. The replacement for this lack of face was a large, black, lonely dot. You stared. And you felt that you had a right to stare for this guy thinking to come to your door out of all doors. Why couldn’t the neighbors handle this?? Why’d he have to pick out your door?

At this point, costumed people running around Brooklyn to cause problems was a common sight. Luckily, the problems never occurred, or at least escalated, because of the new Spider-Man. You had mixed feelings on the man after leaving the Spider-hater society that was Alchemax. But, hey, as long as he doesn’t come down to bother you like this loser you were chill.

Speaking of.

The loser was fidgeting with his hands. His whole body radiated awkwardness and anxiety. The black spot on his face seemed to match his mannerisms as it got bigger and smaller. He would straighten up, turn around to see if anyone was coming, then look back at your door and resume his anxious posture as the spot shrank once again.

As intriguing as it was to watch, you had to get this guy out. You wondered if Spider-Man had some kind of “bat signal”, but you quickly discarded the thought. Maybe if you went to bed and ignored the guy, he’d leave you alone.

. . .

He did not.

He kept knocking at your door for half an hour straight. You covered your head with your pillow, fighting the urge to go up to him in person and smack the spot off his “face”. Then it stopped altogether. It puzzled you. But then you heard the floorboards outside your bedroom creak.

You kept yourself perfectly still to try and pretend you were asleep. Not that it would help you, anyway. Maybe if he was there to rob you, and you didn’t witness the crime, he wouldn’t hurt you. But if he was there to hurt you…well, he was already at your room’s only exit. Even if you had the guts to run, you wouldn’t make it.

The man seemed to creep closer and closer to your bed. Your heart beat picked up, your breathing stuttering some. You creased your eyebrows, just a tad, like how--at least in your experience--you’d see someone do when they were in a nightmare. The floorboards stopped making any noise, which indicated that he had stopped. But he stopped right next to your back. You could feel him lean over you and you tried your very hardest not to break into a sprint right then and there. Or just sock him cold. Unexpected.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…” he whispered. Your heart dropped. Was he going to hurt you…?

Nothing happened still. He walked away. How did he know your name? There was something familiar about his voice, but you couldn’t put it together.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there--er, here. I missed you so, so much.” Did he know you were awake? “I know you can’t hear me, but…,” that answered your question. “…I don’t care, I’d like to apologize. I miss you. I miss spending time with you. Not just on the Friday nights, but even just taking a walk around the block. It always made my day just to see you. Even for only an hour or so. I miss the comfort in your voice, the way you stutter when you get angry with me, the times that you just jumped up on me from behind to scare the crap out of me, just for the heck of it. I know I always said I hated it, but. Well, yeah, I did. But now I…kind of miss it. It’s just part of the experience, I suppose. And as much as I miss that experience, I would rather have you think I’m dead than have to see me like this. I would rather have you think we had no chance to begin with than to be stuck thinking we had the chance, but it was taken away.

I miss you, and I love you, Y/N. Maybe I’ll…maybe I’ll see you around…” you heard him approach your bed, then stop. He paused. Then you heard a pop next to the bedroom entrance, perfectly in sync with your realization. As he began to walk towards the exit, you shuffled over in your bed. You couldn’t let this opportunity pass.

“Wait,” you choked out nervously. The man jumped up and his soul left his body momentarily. He yelped and covered his mouth, or where it would be. He stood there, completely still. The only movement coming from him was his hyperventilating you could hear even from your bed. Behind the man was a black…splotch? Just hanging there in the air? You didn’t question it. You shifted again and slipped out of the covers. The man squeaked and started running for the splotch.

“Johnny!!” You blurted out. The man stopped. He turned around slowly. The black dot on his face was runny, in a way. Like it had water droplets mixing in and dripping down his face, like tears.

“What…?”

“Is it..you? Jonathon Ohnn?” Man, that name was such a pain to pull out of your throat. You started getting choked up over your words just from uttering it. “You came over every Friday night and…and-and we set up a-a pillow fort with my iPad in the corner over there for movie nights.” You held up your shaky hand to the corner of your bedroom where there was now a new desk to fill the space.

“A-And you insisted on watching Revenge of The Sith almost every time, but I would..I-I would..”

“You always said that I should watch The Phantom Menace first.”

“Because I’d never let anyone skip to the end of a trilogy. You know how I felt about you skipping the second How to Train Your Dragon.” His voice was low, quiet. It sounded strained beyond relief, but it finally broke into a sad chuckle after hairs last remark.

“JOHNNY!!!” You broke. You had shattered into pieces. You didn’t care how, and you didn’t care why. That man was Jonathon Ohnn. You sobbed and ran to your “deceased” partner, practically tripping over yourself as you wrapped your arms around his torso. His long, lanky arms wrapped around you tightly. Luckily, the man still towered over you. He bent down and curled on top of you, pulling your head into his chest. You tightened your hold and felt your legs start to buckle in. Jon bent down alongside you and suddenly, you two were sobbing messes on the floor.

You laid in Jon’s lap until your sobbing finally calmed down a bit. It was a miracle it did. I mean. The man who was once the love of your life. Had come back from the dead. It wasn’t an everyday truth to be told, but you were grateful for it. You gripped onto Jon as if you’d be ripped part again if you dared to let go.

Eventually, you took up the courage to take your head off of his chest and look up at him. He tried his best to look away, but you grabbed his cheeks and kept him in place for you. You stared at what Jon had become…he seemed so shameful of it, it broke your heart.

“I-I’m a f-frea-eak..” Jon’s voice broke hundreds of times over as he tried to force out those three words. Your face felt hot and steamy from your sobbing, but you brushed it off. You put on the best angry face you could.

“Do you think I give a shit, Jonathon?” You kept a steady grip on the man’s face and tugged him closer to you. “I fell in love with you because of how much of an adorable nerd you were. You were so SWEET. And you are so KIND, and nerdy, and hilariously sassy and awkward. You listen to me in my most annoying hours. You are the one person I feel safe to be around and to truest express myself. I loved your hair. I loved your face. But those were just the bonuses. I love you for your damn personality, Jonathon, and you shouldn’t sell yourself any shorter th-than, you! Than y-you a-a-a-r-rre…” your voice broke once again and Jon gave you another hug.

“I-I thought you-ou w-w-were…GONE..!!” You choked out. Your throat burned. You didn’t want to talk. But you needed to make a point.

You broke the hug once again and kissed Jon’s face just below his inky spot. He jerked back a second then just sat there, taken back at your gesture until he wrapped his arms around you once again. His hands found their way to feel around your back.

“You know I can’t exactly kiss you anymore, right?” Jon coughed up a laugh. You remembered humor being a coping mechanism of his and pulled barely an inch away from his face.

“Does it look like I give a shit, Jon?”

#spiderman atsv #atsv #the spot x reader #the spot #atsv the spot #jonathon ohnn x reader #jonathon ohnn #x reader #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse

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jadewingedspear · 1 year

Text

Rendezvous

Xiao x reader x Zhongli (threesome)

Warnings: smut. afab! reader, she/her pronouns. use of ‘girlfriend’, ‘princess’, ‘pretty’, ‘pussy’, etc. Bisexual MMF threesome. Established relationship between Xiao and Reader, past relationship between Xiao and Morax. Unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (m receiving), oral (m and f receiving), fuck train? idk lol. Self indulgent, this is a fantasy I’ve decided to share. Probably a mix of tenses lol. Second draft only. Reader knows Zhongli's identity.

2.8k words.

18+ only!

“And how is his karmic debt?”

“It’s been quite calm over the last few nights, actually. I make sure he gets plenty of rest.”

“Very good.” The man in front of you states. He places his now empty cup down onto its saucer on the table.

“You could have asked me directly.” Xiao sulks next to you.

Zhongli chuckles, “I have reasons to think you would neglect to tell me if it had been bothersome lately.” Zhongli sits up straight and places his hands in his lap. “But, in any case, I have a proposal for the two of you.” You put your own cup down, leaning forward to show you’re listening. “Sure. We’re all ears.”

Xiao pays attention too, cocking his head to the side at Zhongli’s statement. There’s a slight pause before the Lord of Geo states what’s on his mind, “As you’re aware,” Zhongli addresses you, “Xiao and I…have a past.”

You nod. You were aware, but it didn’t bother you. It was thousands of years ago, after all. Zhongli takes your silence as permission to move forward. “I thought it might be interesting if we could spend a night together. All three of us.”

Xiao’s eyes widen as he puts together two and two, but he doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to avoid eye contact with anyone. You, however, shrug, “Sure. What do you want to do?” Xiao shifts next to you, clearly uncomfortable.

“Y/N…” Xiao whispers.

The Archon can only chuckle deeply at your naivety. It was so cute, seeing your doe eyes sparkling with innocence. It only made him sure to set his words into stone. “What I have in mind is a sort of…sexual rendezvous.”

------

You weren’t bound, but you couldn’t seem to move from the edge of the bed that you share with your boyfriend at Wangshu Inn. In front of you is a scene you never thought you’d witness: Your current partner, Xiao, tied naked to a wooden chair with his hands behind his back. He was stripped of all clothes, and his cock of average length stood proudly in the air. The head was red and leaking, dribbling pre-cum down the veins on the side of his shaft. In front of him stood the God he serves, the God of the nation you reside in: a shirtless Rex Lapis himself, his hands gripping the chin of Xiao, thumb denting into the smaller man’s blushing cheek. He had Xiao’s head tilted up, forcing eye contact between the two.

“Do you miss the days when I had my way with you? Hmmm?” Zhongli enquires, voice low and gruff, a smirk playing at his lips. Xiao’s breath quickened but he neglected to answer, his denial confirming Zhongli’s suspicions.

You knew Xiao to be reserved, a man of few words. Obedience to Rex Lapis is one thing, but to see him submit to Zhongli like this had your stomach in knots and your thighs rubbing together.

Zhongli side eyes you, smirking still. “Is he as submissive as I remember him, (Y/N)?” The moonlight has struck the man in all the right ways, capturing the edge of his hair and body just enough to give him a soft, silver glow, painting an angelic image.

You stammer, “Uh, I’d say we both have our way with each other…equally.” Your answer seems to shock Zhongli as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It shocks you, too. It feels crude to admit such intimacies to a deity. His eyes drift back to your boyfriend, “Oh…” he almost moans. “I see. I knew you had it in you.”

“I slay demons and you think I’m incapable of such… activities?” Xiao bites back, testing his limits. The god only laughs, broad shoulders and defined chest shaking with him. After a few moments the laugh trails off and the man takes a deep breath, before leaning in close to the ear of the smaller man. You almost don’t catch what he says, but lowly, Zhongli whispers, “Do you miss it?”

You see Xiao’s adam’s apple bob up and down. He loosed a shaky breath. Zhongli let go of his face. Xiao’s silence and denial is, once again, taken as his answer. Shivering with anticipation, you watch eagerly as Zhongli, towering over Xiao, begins to sort of straddle the younger man. He stayed standing up, but leaned his pelvis towards Xiao’s face. You swallowed thickly.

“Unzip me with your mouth.” Zhongli orders, his deep voice reverberating through your chest, making you suddenly aware of your heartbeat and your blood rushing through your veins. His face looks down on Xiao mockingly, staring him down as he waited. Only now does it occur to you that this…this is Morax.

Xiao glances at you for the first time that night, eyes looking apologetic. You shoot a supportive smile his way, but his eyes don’t linger on you long enough for him to catch it. He leaned into Zhongli’s pelvis, making quick work of unbuttoning his pants with his mouth. This was a skill that he most likely hadn’t used in a millennia, yet he still had it. He captures the zip in between his teeth, and looking up to make eye contact with his God, he slowly drags the zipper down. With a triumphant smirk, Zhongli takes it upon himself to push both his pants and underwear down, discarding them to the side.

You take a sharp intake of breath. The cock that springs from the man is bigger than you could have imagined, the weight of it bringing it down to slap Xiao in the face. Zhongli was proud that he was so well-endowed, no doubt. He places a hand behind the head of your boyfriend. “You know what to do.”

Without hesitation, Xiao leans in and begins to swirl his tongue over the tip of Zhongli’s dick. The tip was red and angry, supported by a girthy shaft with multiple prominent veins running down the length. You feel yourself beginning to lean forward, mesmiration pulling you closer and closer to the two men. Seeing Xiao as he begins to sink his mouth and throat further down Zhongli’s cock was having a bigger effect on you than you expected. Your breath got caught in your throat, jaw going slack. You almost wanted to join in, but Zhongli was intimidating enough as is. Xiao continues to bob his head on the other man’s impressive length. He couldn’t fit all of it, but Zhongli groans softly in approval regardless. He thrusts lightly, as if encouraging Xiao to take as much as he can.

Xiao comes up for air and Zhongli takes the opportunity to turn his focus on you. “I think your pretty little girlfriend deserves some attention, don’t you?” he teases, taking two long strides to reach you. Xiao only pants heavily, slumped as far forward as his bindings allow him, watching you helplessly. The look in his eyes is full of hunger and need.

Your head is perfectly in line with Zhongli’s rock hard cock, slick and reflecting the moonlight on Xiao’s spit. Zhongli places his palm on your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek as he gazes down at you with a gentle fondness. A smile can’t help but creep onto your face. “I often reminisce on the past, dear, but that doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to future endeavours.” He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, thumb still stroking your cheek, as if to help suppress the nerves. Kissing another man felt strange anyway, but knowing your boyfriend was witness to all of this felt even stranger. Nonetheless, you melted into the kiss. When the man pulled away, you couldn’t help but chase after him, but eventually accepted the loss. Xiao watched on still, cock still standing up.

Zhongli turned to the smaller man again. With ease, he grabbed the front leg of the chair Xiao was perched on and dragged it to the side of the bed. Xiao gave a little ‘hmph’, but protested no further. It was tempting to climb on top of Xiao and ride his cock with Zhongli as your audience, humiliate him in front of his God, but, well… I suppose his God had already done that tonight.

“You’re going to watch me take your girlfriend.” Zhongli stated. He wasn’t asking for permission. Xiao only looks at him, waiting for him to continue. Even you were waiting in anticipation for his next statement.

“And then I’m going to take you.”

Oh.

Xiao gulps.

Oh.

You gulp.

Zhongli pulls your shirt up over your head and discards it on the floor. He groans in pleasure at the sight of your tits bouncing down, nipples hard due to the cold. “Perfect.” He growls before diving in to speckle your chest and clavicle with kisses and bites. You throw your head back, a light moan escaping your lips as you hold onto Zhongli’s broad shoulders for anchorage. Xiao whines a little and you can see in your peripheral vision that he’s thrusting upwards. Zhongli chuckles and pulls away from your chest, starting to drag your pants and underwear down.

“Have some patience, my little Yaksha.” Zhongli taunts, swinging your underwear on his index finger. “It’ll be your turn very soon.” The god flings your underwear at Xiao, the thin material landing on his face before dropping down to his chest. Both you and Xiao light up red, the action both arousing and embarrassing you.

Soon, Rex Lapis has taken his spot in between your legs, breath fanning over your wet pussy which was clenching around nothing. “Let me worship you.” He whispers, golden eyes locking with your own. You gulp. Even Xiao tensed up at his words. You know he only means it in a sexual context, but even hearing such utterances from a God’s mouth felt blasphemous. Yet here he was, between your legs, mere centimeters away from your sex. Zhongli waited patiently for your consent.

“Yes…” you trail off with an uncertainty in your tone. That was enough for the god, though, as he instantly licks a wet stripe up your pussy.

You instantly grip the sheets in your fist, a moan escaping your lips. His tongue works magic between your folds, slurping up your essence before moving to circle your clit. His lips pinch your bud lightly, small suckles sending electric shots through your body. He wasn’t rough, but he was fast; it was different to Xiao’s slow and romantic approach, but still felt amazing.

You turn your head to the side to observe Xiao. His cock was leaking a plentiful amount of precum. His eyelids were heavy as he watched you being ravished by someone who once ravished him, jaw slightly slack and chest still heaving at a fast pace.

Zhongli sucked at your clit some more while prodding your entrance with two of your fingers, easily sliding them in. You tear your gaze away from Xiao, moaning at the feeling of being full. His two fingers pumped in and out, scissoring and stretching your hole while his lips were still hard at work. The two working in harmony brought you closer and closer to the edge, your moans growing louder and louder, chest heaving heavier and heavier until he-

pulls his fingers out. You whine at the loss, high pitched and desperate for more. Zhongli only smirks, “I do apologise. That was only prep.” He sticks his fingers in front of Xiao’s mouth. He obediently takes the two fingers in his mouth, moaning at your sweet juices. He sucks them skilfully before Zhongli pulls them out.

Morax then sits on his knees, settling himself in your legs. “Ready princess?” He lines his cock up with your entrance. His gaze pierces yours, intimidating and sexy all at once, as he again, waits for your consent.

“Please.” You beg quietly. Not needing to be told twice, the god sheaths himself inside your hot sex. “Oh!” you moan loudly, the stretch being more than you could have imagined. Xiao wasn’t below average, but who could compete with the Lord of Geo? You had never felt quite so stuffed in your life.

The man above you groans as he thrusted in until he was balls deep, stilling for a moment. “So tight.” He breathes out. “Oh, how lucky you are Xiao… you get to bury your cock in this perfect little pussy as much as you want.” He then pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in again, setting a steady and fast pace. Zhongli presses a thumb to your clit.

“Does Xiao fuck you this hard? Huh?”

“N-no!” You cry out, shame blooming over your face in the form of a blush. It wasn’t a lie, though.

“Does his cock fill you up this well?” He demands, hair sticking to his face and forehead with sweat. You shake your head, moaning still as he continues to fuck you reltentlessly. You leaked juices around his thick cock, coating your thighs.

“Do you moan and whine like this for Xiao?” The god asks again.

“She sounds even better for me.” A voice says, a matter-of-factly tone ring to it.

Zhongli’s thrusting slows, but doesn’t stop, as he turns his head to the yaksha. Small moans still emit from you. Xiao sits there, stern glare shooting Zhongli’s way. Morax laughs lowly, “Well then, I’d like to see it.” The god pulls out of you, and your pussy clenches around nothing. The loss of his cock leaves you whining. Zhongli stands and tugs at the rope binding Xiao’s wrists, and the small man wastes no time in settling between your legs, not bothering to wait for the other man’s orders.

“I want to hear her moan your name.” Zhongli says, observing the two of you.

“My love.” Xiao whispers affectionately, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You wrap your arms around his back, hands entangling themselves in his hair. Having his familiar weight on you brought you comfort.

You feel Xiao’s smaller cock slide into your entrance with ease, having been stretched open by Zhongli’s incomparable size. Still though, Xiao’s dick fits you perfectly, curving upwards beautifully to constantly rub against your G-spot. You moan into his mouth. Xiao fucks you at a slower pace than the god, choosing long, drawn out thrusts as he continues kissing you. This was your favourite kind of sex. Passionate, close, full of love.

The bed dips at your feet, and you know Zhongli has taken his place behind Xiao. Xiao pulls his lips off you with a whine, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts stutter at a disturbance. You look behind him, only to see Zhongli starting to scissor Xiao’s tight hole open. You moan at the sight, pussy clenching around your boyfriend’s length. He whines down your ear.

“I‘ve missed this little hole of yours.” Morax confesses. “I can’t wait to fuck it.”

Zhongli mounts Xiao, hands gripping the man’s petite waist. As he pushes his dick into Xiao’s ass, your boyfriend thrusts deeper into you from the force behind him. You stroke his hair to ease him through the pain of the stretch and wait for it to turn to pleasure.

The pace soon picks up and both you and Xiao are moaning into each other’s ears while Zhongli groans. He fucks Xiao hard and fast. Him fucking Xiao rocks Xiao into you, his curved dick hitting all the right places in your sweet little pussy. Lewd noises could be heard, squelching and balls slapping. You couldn’t help but be embarrassed by it.

“Xiao,” you moan, “I’m close.”

Xiao ruts into your pussy as best he can while also trying to fuck himself on Zhongli’s cock. The pleasure he’s feeling has his head spinning. Your warm pussy enveloping his cock while his own prostate was being hit by Morax’s girth. He’s scared he’d become addicted.

Rex Lapis quickening his pace indicates that he, too, is close. He groans, his knuckles turning white as he tightens his grip on Xiao’s waist.

“Xiao!” You continue moaning. “Please!” and with that you came, juices gushing out from your pussy and down the side of Xiao’s dick, sloshing and squelching before leaking down your to ass cheeks. Zhongli also stilled, thrusting into Xiao as far as he could, cumming deep inside, a low moan roaring from his chest. This left Xiao pinned to you, whining as he spills his own hot cum inside you, filling you up and mixing with your own juices.

Zhongli pulls out first, taking it slow. Xiao, collapsed on your chest, pants as he breathes deeply. He pulls his cock out but opts to stay snuggled up to you, panting down your ear. You feel slimy and slippery, but your post-orgasmic bliss relaxes you. “Oh my gosh.” You whisper. You need to process what the fuck just happened. You, the Vigilant Yaksha, and the God of Liyue.

Zhongli lies beside you, a large hand rubbing up and down Xiao’s back. He chuckles fondly, “I think he’ll rest well tonight.” Xiao quickly pecks your cheek.

“I think I will, too.” You claim.

#genshin impact smut #zhongli smut #xiao smut #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x zhongli #bisexual #smut

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3d-wifey · 5 months

Text

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 8

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 4.8k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! Tag List: @melancholicmelanin , @yvy1s, @honethatty12 A/N: Are yall mad at me 🙁🙁 Your outfit & Finnick's outfit.

Past (ix) - You

[19 & 20] - THE CAPITOL

You like Johanna, you decide after only a few minutes of talking to her. She’s clever and somehow always simmering with rage. With her stature and how meek she seemed in her interviews, even you were surprised by the 180 she did in the arena. It's easy to see how she won.

It's admirable. Admittedly, your games were more animalistic than strategic. The careers had turned on each other pretty early on, leaving behind those who were desperate to stay alive. There was even a boy who resorted to cannibalism, eating the heart of any tribute he killed. His name was Titus. He was only thirteen. When they airlifted you out, it felt like you were taken out of the wilderness and brought into captivity.

You also note, despite her permanent scowl, or maybe because of it, she’s pretty. And that thought plants dread in your chest. You know the future for pretty, young victors all too well.

Is this how Finnick felt when he first met you?

There are ways around it, you note. Though the consequences are pretty grim. Enobaria comes to mind. She won her games by ripping another tribute’s throat out with her teeth. An act of desperation turned into her main selling point. She was smart. Went to an extreme and sharpened her teeth to garner more Capitol appeal while simultaneously dissuading Snow from selling her body. She’s pretty, but no one’s jumping to get into bed with teeth like that.

And Haymitch…well, Haymitch wasn’t given much of a choice considering Snow killed any leverage he might have had over him.

You make your rounds, jumping from group to group, barely being able to pull away from those who want your attention. Obviously, you aren’t mingling because you want to. There isn’t a single client you’d willingly interact with, ever . However, what you want doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. A fact made all the more apparent when you get cornered by a particularly tenacious Capitol.

Ursa Lowvale—a notable actress old enough to be your mother, with a surprising amount of political influence—has one hand caressing your cheek and the other holding your waist. Her makeup, in Capitol fashion, is cakey and clashing. You force down the impulse to move away because no matter how long you’ve done this, it never ceases to amaze you how uncomfortable their touch makes you.

“Did you get the care package I sent you, dearest?" She asks, rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone. You take her hand from your face and move it to rest over your heart, just above your breast. Her touch makes you nauseous, but you play it off as if you’re showing your sincerity and not your disgust.

“I did. And I must say, your kindness knows no bounds.” You threw the package away immediately. You didn’t even bother looking inside. “You’re so giving.”

“Oh, I’m giving in all aspects . As I’m sure you know.” She moves her hand down to rest on the crest of your cleavage and you play none the wiser to what she’s insinuating. That’s the personality you’ve cultivated over the past four years; shy, docile, naive—if not a bit ditzy. It’s that very image that ropes them in. Corrupting the ‘innocence’ of a victor is awfully appealing.

“I’ll be sure to set up another meeting sometime soon. It’s been far too long.” She leans down and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be waiting.”

You wait until she’s out of sight to drop your smile. You take a sip of champagne out of the flute and then you take another. You’ll never drink enough at one of these events to lose your wits, but it doesn’t hurt to be a little tipsy. If more encounters like that happen, you’ll need it.

You stick to the outskirts of the party, savoring the limited solitude while it lasts. You watch on as Johanna turns another person down. You don’t know how they even work up the nerve to ask her to dance; she certainly isn’t welcoming. She seems to tolerate victors well enough, but anyone else—well, they should know better than to approach her.

You jump when toned arms slide around your waist, champagne sloshing out of your glass.

“ Stunning as always, Star. ” He whispers, voice husky in your ear. You relax in his hold.

“Finnick Ewan Odair, I swear if you made me drop this glass—”

“I know, I know,” he smirks against your cheek and you can’t tamp down your smile, “Missed you.” He kisses your temple and moves back. It wouldn’t be perceived as strange for Finnick, of all people, to hang off of you, but you keep it to a minimum as a self-imposed rule. No one would blink twice at innocent affection in public, but you both know how easy it would be for the two of you to get carried away. There’s flirting and then there’s flirting.

“Mhm, I’m sure you did.” You chuckle into your drink, playing at being impassive and he sighs dramatically.

“You see, now, normally, when somebody says they miss you, you’re supposed to say…?” He prompts with his hands and trails off. “C’mon, Star. I know you know this one.” You blink up at him, silent. He scoffs in faux offense, turning to walk away and you drop the act.

“Okay, I’m sorry ,” you laugh, pulling him back by one of his billowy sleeves to hook a finger in one of his belt loops, “I’m sorry. I missed you too.” In the past six months since Johanna’s games, you’ve only seen each other seven times. Odd, since you’ve both come to the Capitol at least twenty times combined, and usually, the two of you are brought in to work at the same time.

“Now, was that so hard?” He teases and you poke him in his stomach where he’s ticklish. The muscles in his abdomen twitch as he snorts unattractively. Or, it would have been if anyone other than Finnick did it. “You’ll catch a cold in that.” He notes with a quirk of his eyebrow and looks you up and down for longer than what’s strictly necessary. He’s referring to the newest dress your stylist stuffed you into. It seems like she gets more and more daring with each outfit. This time you’re in a thin strapped evening gown with an almost see-through corset bodice. There’s a slit up your left thigh reaching your hip. You try not to toddle in red heels that are truly too high.

One of his hands goes to your waist and moves you to sway with him to the music the live orchestra is playing. Your free hand trails up his strong shoulder to play with the hairs at his nape.

“I can say the same for you.” You tug on the shark tooth necklace that definitely isn’t his. He’s in a loose, khaki-colored wrap shirt with a deep v-neck. Deeper than deep, honestly. It’s sheer like yours and tucked into the front of his white slacks. The sleeves cinch at his wrists and the whole thing offers very little coverage to his bare chest and stomach, which is probably the point.

“I guess we’ll have to find a way to keep each other warm then.” He bites his bottom lip with a grin that spells nothing good for your patience.

You pinch his side.

“Ow! I’m kidding .” He raises his hands placatingly, grinning broadly.

“ Behave .” You scold through your teeth and your cheeks hurt with the stretch of your smile.

“You gonna punish me if I don—”

That earns him a smack to the bare skin of his chest.

“You are so irritating,” you scold and he laughs loud and unrestrained with his head thrown back. A sight that never ceases to leave you breathless. Finnick usually never lets himself be this carefree in public, but maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s your presence. He catches his breath, ruddy cheeks dimpling. He looks awfully pretty under the soft yellow lights, hair shining like gold. A possessive thought sinks its claws into you. You don’t want anyone to see him like this. No one else deserves it. You aren’t even sure if you do.

“You love it.” He’s still letting out breathy little giggles as he beams down at you, big doe eyes twinkling.

You shake your head with an insurmountable fondness. “I love you .”

He wrinkles his nose and your eyes are drawn to the faint freckles dotting the bridge of it. “See, that’s not fair.”

“Oh?” You cross your arms, balancing your glass precariously while playfully sizing him up as one would before a sparring match. But that train of thought makes you think. Could you take Finnick in a fight? You snort. Can anyone? “Please, Mr. Odair. Please tell me all about how unfair it is that I love you.”

“ Ouch . Mr. Odair?” He huffs at your expectant stare. “You use it for evil .” He mirrors your stance by crossing his arms, and drawing your attention to his biceps. His loose-fitting sleeves are doing a horrible job of hiding their shape and size as they flex with his movement. Hmm . You bring back that thought of fighting Finnick, but now it’s not that funny. You picture you and Finnick spent and sweaty as you wrestle on a mat, he would be red in the face and grinning from exertion as he pinned you down and—

You take a sip of champagne.

“Well, I guess I’ll just stop saying it all together then if it’s such a hardship.” You shrug.

He raises his hands like he’s fending off an attack. “Woah! Alright, alright. I’m willing to come to a truce.”

The pair of you are still joking and giggling together when you get approached by a couple. Edgar, one of Finnick’s regulars, and Karlo, his husband whom you’ve had many meetings with yourself. Anyone else in your position would have jumped apart, and put as much space and plausible deniability between you as possible—and maybe you would have done that when you were younger, but you both know now that the best way to squash any suspicion is to act like there’s nothing to be suspicious of.

You and Finnick share a glance. Breathe and endure , you mouth to him while your back is still turned to the encroaching couple. You welcome the wry twist of his lips.

“What are you two drinking that’s making you so smiley?” They ask and you both sober up. Well, not literally. You don’t know about him, but you’re still a little fuzzy. You shiver as the silk of Finnick’s shirt brushes your bare back as he wraps his hand around yours and takes a sip from your glass.

“Champagne.” He supplies, with that charming smile that you don’t even have to turn around to know is there. “It hits quicker than you’d think.” This is partially true, but, really, the only thing you’re drunk on is Finnick.

You lean back into the heat of Finnick’s chest and his hand goes to your hip to steady you, his thumb rubbing circles into your hip.

“Looks like someone’s drunk more than her fair share.” Karlo laughs as they crowd in on you both and if you really had been as drunk as you’re pretending to be, you would have thrown up from the smell of their strong perfumes clashing. Both sickeningly sweet and fighting to clog your lungs. “Don’t tell me you’re drunk already.”

“Honestly, I barely drank any. I must be a lightweight.” You laugh, fake to your own ears and you’re sure to Finnick’s too.

“Really? That’s quite surprising. You know. With your rough background and all.” Edgar says with genuine confusion. It’s odd to be insulted so sincerely. Finnick scoffs behind you in what could be mistaken for amusement, but the grip on your hip says otherwise.

You stay quiet for the rest of the conversation. You chime in here and there, but Finnick carries the bulk of it. It isn’t normally like this. Many people usually fall over themselves trying to be the first person you talk to. But there are a select few who prefer you to stand there and look pretty. You can essentially dumb your way out of a conversation, Finnick isn’t so lucky.

“You’ll have to show us some of your poetry sometime, Nick,” Edgar says while walking his fingers up Finnick’s arm and you almost wince for him. He hates that nickname. Writing, specifically poetry, is the hobby Finnick was forced to take up after his games. Something that’s supposed to give a layer of complexity to his playboy image. Though, unlike most victors, it’s actually something he enjoys and is quite good at.

You, on the other hand, wished you were given any other skill to hone. If your fingers hadn’t already been callused, the violin strings would’ve left them mangled.

“He always forgets to ask that, but I’m sure it’s because you have him suitably distracted.” Karlo laughs and Edgar cackles along with him. You don’t know what’s tighter, your grip on the glass or your smile. You wonder which one will shatter first.

“Ah, anyway. We must be off.” Edgar, thankfully, pulls away.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you.” Karlo takes your unattended hand and kisses the back of it and you instantly regret talking your stylist out of giving you elbow-length gloves.

“Likewise.”

You hold your breath and release it when they’re out of sight. You feel Finnick’s chest expand with his own sigh of relief.

“Alright,” he plucks the champagne from your hand, handing it to a passing server. You’re tempted to complain, “Let’s go. We’ve shown our faces long enough that Snow shouldn’t care.” You’re hesitant for a moment, but you can’t act like the idea of being alone with Finnick isn’t more than enough to convince you.

Other than the constant security and monitoring, the Training Center isn’t a terrible place to stay. As you and Finnick walk hand in hand down the hall, you can take comfort in the fact that you won’t run into anyone you’ll have to hide this from. The soles of your feet ache with each step. You yelp when you almost trip for the third time, your ankle turning inwards. Maybe you really are a lightweight.

Wordlessly, Finnick squats down and pats his thigh. You're confused before he taps your ankle. And he waits patiently like it’s the most natural thing in the world to take your shoes off for you. Your chest warms from something other than alcohol. You place your foot on his thigh and he takes off your heel and does the same with the other. He keeps the strap of your shoes looped over his finger as he stands.

“C’mon,” he puts one arm under your knees, another behind your back, and lifts you up like you weigh nothing. You really do try your best not to gawk at his strength, but from Finnick’s flustered giggles, you’re failing miserably. You wrap your arm around his neck.

“My hero,” you put the back of your hand to your forehead and his chest vibrates with his laughter.

“My star, light of my life,” you laugh as he spins you, “The least I can do is save you from a broken ankle.” He presses a featherlight kiss to your lips. Your eyes flutter shut and you can’t help but smile against his lips.

You and Finnick have unintentionally established a pattern. More often than not, you both would be in the Capitol at the same time for the same reason and one of you always ends up in the other’s room. But the elevator doesn’t stop on either of your floors.

The elevator opens on the rooftop and he’s yet to put you down. You’re amazed at how long he’s been able to carry you without any strain.

The gardens are sprawling and well-maintained, a surprising amount of care for something unprofitable. There was a kid, a tribute from one of the early games, who jumped off the roof. They claimed he fell by accident and the force field was put in place as a safety measure. But you all know what really happened—the districts know what happened. And you suspect he’s the reason the garden was implemented. A poorly planned distraction on the Capitol’s behalf.

Finnick sits on one of the garden benches behind a tall hedge of roses with you on his lap. You rest your head on top of his, tracing random letters on the back of his neck.

Finnick clears his throat. “There were kids at the reception. Running around– chasing each other. They asked me to play tag with them.” He laughs. You conjure up an image of Finnick chasing a gaggle of children that don’t even come up to his waist, because of course he did, and suddenly, you can think of nothing else. “Have you ever thought about having any?”

“I did when I was younger.” You hum. You thought of a lot of things when you were a kid. When you were young enough to be shielded by your parents from the brutality of your district, young enough to dream. That period didn’t last and you haven’t been a kid for a long time.

“But?”

“But, I didn’t think I’d live long enough to have any.” You didn’t even think you were capable of that kind of love. You didn't think it was in your capacity. It was bred and beaten out of you, especially after your games. But Finnick’s in the business of proving you wrong. “And to bring them into this world, into Eleven, seems cruel.”

The chirp of crickets fills the silence. Fireflies dot the sky and blend with the stars.

His fingers tap on your thigh. “I always thought I’d have two. They’d be close in age so—”

“—They’d be friends.” You finish and he gives a slow nod that picks up speed.

“Yeah, a boy and a girl.” You want to picture it. You want to imagine a world where it’s possible to have that life together. But you fear the fate of a child that would look like you and Finnick.

Your eyes drift from constellation to constellation. Perseus, Pegasus, Pisces. The stars are clearer here than at the Marquis, but not by much. It’s times like this that you miss your dad the most.

“If you’re comfortable sharing, I’d love to hear some more of your poetry.” You mutter into his hair. What Edgar said got you thinking. You don’t want Finnick to associate his talent with those people. Everything he writes is a piece of him. It amounts to more than that, more than them.

“I would think you’d be tired of it by now, considering how much I write in my letters.”

“Mmm, I’ll never be tired of anything you do. You really do have a gift, Finn, and you shouldn’t waste it on them.” The words were out of your mouth before you even had time to comprehend them. You lift your head when he moves to look at you, “It’s true.” You say, somewhat embarrassed. You aren’t really the emotionally forthcoming one in this relationship, but you weren’t expecting what you said to be met with surprise.

He places a kiss on the shell of your bracelet. You shiver as he trails his lips down to the tip of your fingers. Your heart speeds up in anticipation. He presses his cheek to the back of your hand and he sits there with his eyes closed, before speaking.

“My heart, who am I to deprive you of what's yours by right? The air in my lungs, I breathe for you. The blood in my veins pumps for you.” He laces your fingers together, eyes still closed. “A leaf can’t stop itself from falling and neither could I.” When he opens his eyes back up, you’re swept away by the sheer adoration. That’s something you should get used to, right? You don’t think you’ve seen Finnick look at you any differently. And you don’t think you ever will.

He shakes his head with a smile as bright as the sun. “Everything I do, I do for you.” He whispers and just when you catch your breath, it’s gone again.

You’re not sure who leans in first, not that it matters. No, all that matters is this moment—just the two of you.

He pulls back, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

“So,” he speaks, lips twitching into a smirk, and you brace yourself for the sheer strength of the eye roll that’s certain to follow whatever he says next, “your room or mine?” Your eyes truly come close to rolling out of your head, but you snort despite yourself and that smirk becomes a full-blown smile.

Present (VIII) - You

[23 & 24 ] - TRAINING CENTER

You inhale through your nose and release the breath through your teeth. Your arms burn from your fingers to your biceps and you try to adjust your grip on the bar, but the strain in your shoulders convinces you to tap out. You drop to the ground and the screen next to you reads four minutes and eight seconds, but you know you can make it to five.

You bounce on your toes and shake out your hands. Just as you’re about to jump back up, you notice a crowd forming around the archery station. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you’re able to slip to the front and see what the commotion is about. Inside, Katniss shoots down the hologram opponents with deadly proficiency, seemingly sensing the enemies before they’re even there. The arm strength involved with shooting a bow and arrow is nothing to scoff at. Especially with the fluidity and speed she’s going.

After she hits the last hologram and the exercise shuts off, everyone else stands impressed—yourself included. You're starting to understand why Haymitch is putting so much stock into her.

In terms of basic survival, there’s nothing for you to improve on. Shelter making, fire starting, weapons, hand-to-hand—there isn’t much for you to learn within the day you have left. You think about stopping at the camouflage station but think better of it. As long as there’s something to climb, you’ll have camouflage. Mags hovers by the fish hooks station, but you worry if you go near her, Finnick won’t be far behind. You don’t know what he wants from you, why he even wants to speak to you. It’s not like he responded to any of your letters, so why now ? Why now when you’ve finally come to terms with the way he wanted things to be?

On the topic of avoiding Finnick, you also steer clear of the knot-tying station. He’s there now teaching Katniss how to tie what looks like a noose. You’d run out of fingers if you tried to count the number of knots he’s taught you. You never thought you’d ever have to use any of them, but there’s no telling what will happen in the arena.

Edible insects are much easier to distinguish than plants, but you’re more than adept at both. The same can’t be said for Peeta. You must have been watching him for nearly thirty minutes and he’s gotten close to nothing right.

He still has the paint that the female Morphling—Megan, you’re pretty sure—painted on his arm. Swirls of the orange, yellow, and purple trail from his wrist to his shoulder.

The screen flashes red as he organizes the plants incorrectly.

“You are terrible at this.” You walk forward to lean against the control panel, “Like, extraordinarily.”

Peeta looks up from the buttons. It’s technically the first time the two of you have talked, not counting that meeting after the chariots where Chaff kissed Katniss.

“I just,” he scratches at the back of his head and frowns, discouraged, “I can’t remember the names. I know nightlock, obviously. But not much else.”

“Well, you’re able to recognize where you fall short. That’s good. You’re trying to match the names to the fruit, but you don’t have enough time to remember all of that. It’s pointless anyway.” What good is remembering the name of a berry if he doesn’t know if he can eat it or not?

“Then, what am I supposed to do?”

“Instead of figuring out the names, try to focus on what they look like and whether or not they’re edible. That’s all that matters, honestly.” You restart the exercise, changing the parameters so he’ll have to organize the plants into categories by picture.

“You’re helping me?”

“I can’t, in good conscience, let you die because you decided to tussle with the wrong berry.” Hundreds of kids have died in Eleven from eating something they shouldn’t have. Not because they didn’t know it was poisonous, but because they were so hungry that they took their chances. “Trust me, that’s not a fight you wanna pick.”

It’s touch and go for a second, but it’s not long before Peeta starts catching on. He’s a quick learner, and it’s much easier—more beneficial—to memorize what an edible plant looks like rather than what it’s called.

While Peeta is distracted with a timed matching game, your eyes trail to where Finnick goes through different motions with a trident while Katniss watches with laser-like focus. He stops to say something to her and glances your way. You’re quick to look back down to the task at hand.

How are you supposed to work with him in the arena if you can’t even handle being in the same room as him?

“I’m just not good at this.” Peeta laughs with a hint of self-deprecation. The screen shows he was only able to get half of the plants organized before the timer went off. For somebody starting from scratch, he’s selling himself pretty short. He just needs a little more time and you’re confident he’ll be able to recognize what can and can’t be eaten within an hour.

“I watched your games. You could definitely be better.” Poisonous berries are the leading cause of death in the arena. Followed closely by being killed, either by another tribute or the arena itself. This will help protect him from the former. He doesn't need to master this. He just needs to know enough to get by.

”Yeah, Katniss is definitely better at this kind of stuff.” He looks over his shoulder to where Katniss and Finnick are still training. This time Katniss holds the trident and her movements are nowhere near as polished as his were. Despite that, Peeta’s eyes shine.

You look at Peeta— really look at him—and realize something.

"You actually love her, don't you?" You marvel. It hadn't even crossed your mind that their feelings could be genuine. He looks at you surprised, before whatever persona he's embodying slides into place.

"What, do you think it's an act or something?" He laughs.

"I did. But your eyes gave you away. They hold this kind of—softness whenever you look at her, whenever you talk about her," you turn back to the screen but don't restart the exercise, "I'd recognize that anywhere." Of course, you would. It's how Finnick used to look at you.

You're both quiet. He looks from you to his hands on the controls.

"I do." He breathes, hard to hear over the cacophony of sounds in the room. "I really do."

You take a breath and let it out in a sigh.

"I'm sorry then."

"For what?" His brows furrow with confusion.

"You shouldn't have to go into the arena with someone you love. It's cruel." Your heart aches for him. You don't know how much Katniss reciprocates his feelings—you're starting to think she doesn't at all. For that, you can't help but feel sorry for him—can't help but see yourself in him.

Haymitch was right, after all. Peeta's a good kid. He doesn't deserve this.

"Then, I'm sorry too." You glance at him from the corner of your eye. "You're right. We shouldn't have to." You don't say anything for a second and he doesn't press you to. You doubt anyone told him about you and Finnick, so maybe he's just that observant. And smarter than anyone notices. An oversight you're sure he takes advantage of.

You don't bother denying it. Instead, you nod. He nods back. A sense of comradery is shared between the two of you, but it doesn't last long. You still have training to do. You press on a random square and a creepy-looking plant appears. A red stalk with shiny, white berries spins in a slow circle on the screen.

"White baneberry, poisonous or not poisonous?" He contemplates it.

"Poisonous?" He asks more than tells you.

"Just to eat?" You prompt and he shakes his head.

"You can't touch it either." He answers far more confidently and you smile. There might be hope for him yet.

"Good. Next."

A/N: SMUT NEXT CHAPTER!!!!! PEW PEW PEW!!!!

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #hunger games catching fire #masterlist #finnick x reader #finnick odair fanfic #thg finnick #and they'd find us in a week #finnick

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leclerced · 4 months

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Can’t stop thinking about mafia boss!Lando today. He gives me vibes of “I’m just a baby” turned “I was having the best day with my wife you see and I thought if anyone interrupted I’d have to torture them first really bad. Guess what? You’re the lucky one. I’m feeling creative today”. He’s not super dangerous in the open like he makes no effort to look as if he wants to kill someone. But he’s a psychopath behind close doors (ofc turned romantic with his wifey cause we’re super realistic here). When someone hits on her he’s calm and doesn’t make a scene. Everyone who doesn’t know him think he’s crazy because who wouldn’t be mad about things like that? But in reality he makes sure that someone is taken and then depending on his mood and how hard they tried he roughs them up a little, takes a hand if they touched her or if it was really bad kills them

i love this so much.

he would never show her his dark side, he knows she can handle it and would love him nonetheless, but he doesn’t want her to ever think he would harm her, because he wouldn’t. there would be one time he did because she was actually in danger and he puts a bullet in someone, but it was for her protection so it doesn’t count. definitely tells his men not to bother him and half the time something happens and oscar comes knocking bc everyone else is scared to interrupt his alone time. he’d be so angry about being pulled away from his love, tell oscar to stay with her so she’s not alone, and then go deal with business before he returns, occasionally with little dots of blood on his crisp white button down.

when someone is bothering his girl, he would deal with it but you’re so right that he would be discreet. maybe he has his men follow whoever and capture them without any cameras or witnesses seeing, then bring them to one of lando’s warehouses for him to deal with. the severity definitely matches the crime, i can imagine his girl making her way back over to him and telling him what just happened and he’s just planning out what he’ll be doing to him later that night.

#ask #lifeboredme #ln4 #mafia au #mafia ln4

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austinsmutler · 11 months

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i think this is the request box??? SORRY UGH))) hi!! first time requesting! Could you do a BDE(or Austin)! Elvis x reader (could use she/her pronouns). Reader is timid and socially awkward. During one of Elvis’ shows, the staff at the venue are being really rude to her while she’s trying to get to his dressing room and saying like “just because you’re sleeping with him doesn’t give you any authority to come back here.” Elvis hears about this and confronts them after the show telling them that if they ever talk to his pretty girl like that again that he would do more than just fire them (FIRST TIME REQUESTING IM SORRY THIS IS A REALLY AWKWARD REQUEST)))

Oooh Anon. You’ve single-handedly pulled me out of my writing block with this request. If I could hug you, I would, but instead enjoy Austin!Elvis wanting to burn the world down to protect reader. I hope it's worth the wait.

Keep sending requests for Austin!Elvis, guys! These are so fun!

It's Only Love - Austin!Elvis x Reader - 2,000 words

What you’ll like: Protective Elvis, BDE Elvis, hurt/comfort, pet names ('baby' and 'pretty girl'), Elvis stands up to Colonel

Warnings: Period-typical misogyny, mild violence (nothing major or graphic but there is some grabbing)

Masterlist | Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

“Well I’m leaving town baby, I’m leaving town for sure, then you won’t be bothered with me hanging round your door- but that’s alright…” Your boyfriend drawled into the microphone, leaning in with a sultry sway of his hips that had the crowd sighing.

Elvis’ eyes found yours as he sang, “But that’s alright, that’s alright now mama, any way you do… Woo-hoo!” He howled as the song, and the show, finished.

The girls around you went wild, showering the stage in everything from red roses to their bras. It was always a strange sight, especially when one bra fell over Elvis’ head and he turned to throw it at Bill, the bass player, with a laugh.

You’d been there every step of the way on the tour, from Memphis to Lousianna and all the way to North Carolina. No matter where Elvis went, there was a crowd of girls screaming his name and throwing their garments at his feet.

But you weren’t one of them. Elvis’ eyes always picked you out in the crowd and held you, performing your favorites as a secret serenade in every show.

You’d known Elvis since you were children, growing up together on the outskirts of Tupelo, sneaking into Black Pentecostal churches together, and- slowly as growing up- falling in love.

Your parents hardly had to be persuaded to let you follow him across the country, because you had practically been married since the first time Elvis had grabbed your hand and led you inside the tent as they sang Up Above My Head. Elvis didn’t just teach you the words, he’d burned them into your soul, never letting go of your hand once as you both sang,

“I wanna soothe my heart, I wanna ease my mind, I wanna move my shoes and see what I can find…”

Elvis had found music, but you’d found him.

** **

Usually Elvis would sneak out from backstage and meet you after the show, but with bigger crowds and Elvis more recognizable than ever, you’d agreed it was best for you to simply come backstage from now on. Everyone who worked with Elvis knew you- even the band members affectionately called you Mrs Presley.

Which made it surprising when the bouncers- rare members of the team who weren’t Elvis’ direct friends or family -cut you off.

“Backstage is for band members only.”

“What? Tommy, come on.” You put your hands on your hips, frowning up at the tall man. “You know me.”

“Sorry ma’am, Colonel’s orders.”

“Excuse me?” You caught eyes with Bill, passing behind Tommy. “Hey, Bill!”

“Hey, that's ol’ Mrs Presley!” Bill greeted you with a smile. “C’mon boys, let her through.”

“Backstage is for band members only.” The other bouncer, Tex, repeated. “Sorry Bill.”

You looked at Bill for help, but he was frowning at the other men. “Well, I’m a band member, and she’s with us. Let her through.”

“Can’t. Colonel’s say-so.” Tommy said expressionlessly. “Real sorry, Bill.”

“You’re gonna be.” Bill looked at you. “Wait here, it’s gonna be alright.”

The second Bill was out of earshot, the bouncers focused their attention on you. It was the first time all tour you’d felt… afraid. It was a hot July night and you’d left your cardigan at home. Suddenly your shoulders felt too bare as they looked you up and down, disgust slowly filtering onto their faces.

“Just because you’re fucking the boss doesn’t mean you can come back here.” Tommy growled, while Tex stepped forward to shove you further back.

“He'll be done with you soon enough. Girls like you get boring after a while.”

You bit your lip, fighting back tears, but you instinctively pushed back against the larger man. Tex’s face twisted in rage as he grabbed your arms with bruising strength.

“Don’t think you can get away with that, just because you’re sleeping with Presley.”

He shoved you back so hard you hit the wall. You cried out in shock and pain as your head hit the wall and the world turned blurry.

“What the fuck is going on here?” A low voice growled from behind the bouncers. Elvis, still in his pink and black stage suit.

Bill was with him, but when he saw the scene, he took a step back from the singer as if he’d explode. If it were possible, Elvis would be ticking like a bomb ready to blow.

“Elvis-” Tommy started, but Elvis silenced him with one hand. His dark blue eyes fixed on Tex, who was still in front of you, so uncomfortably close you could smell the sweat under his suit. It made you nauseous.

You were still dazed from your head hitting the wall, unable to speak as Elvis stalked forward. For every step forward Elvis took, Tex took a step back.

“I’m gonna give you one chance to explain what you were doing, touching my girl like that.” Elvis snarled. “And that’s one more chance than you deserve, so be quick.”

“W-well, boss-” Tex suddenly didn’t seem so big, hands at his sides, staring at his shoes. He looked more like a child being scolded. “We didn’t mean to-”

“Then what did you mean to do?” Elvis snapped. He was between you and Tex now, hand grasping yours with a reassuring squeeze. "Cause it looked to me like you were throwing my girl around like a rag doll, which she ain't."

“Listen, we-” Tommy stepped forward, but Elvis interrupted.

“No, you both listen. You’re fired. If I see either of you near my show or my pretty girl again, I’ll do more than just fire you. Got it?”

He didn’t wait for their response, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you backstage to his dressing room. The pain didn’t fully set in until he sat you in his chair. You winced.

Elvis felt at the lump on the back of your head. No skin was broken, but it still throbbed. Colorful bruises were already beginning to form on your arms where Tex had all-but thrown you backwards.

“Oh, no. No, no, no." Elvis murmured when he saw the marks. He was on his knees, looking up at you with a pained expression. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

He kissed every bruise on your skin so softly you barely felt the heat of his lips. All the while he murmured comforting words,

“I ain’t ever gonna let this happen to you again. Never gonna let anything like this happen again. I promise.”

You were silent, replaying Tommy and Tex's words over in your head. They had no idea what they were talking about, but the words still left you with a lingering nausea, far worse than any of the bruising on your body.

“How’s my girl doing?”

“I’m okay.” Your voice was meek, even to your own ears.

"Hey, pretty girl," Elvis frowned, cupping your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You can tell me.”

And you did. As the tears finally spilled over your eyes, you told Elvis the worst of what the bouncers said. Tension flooded into his shoulders as you repeated their words.

Just because you’re fucking the boss doesn’t mean you can come back here.

“Those sons of-” Elvis caught himself, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, baby. They ain’t ever gonna work again, I'll make sure of it.”

He kissed the back of one hand, then the other. Elvis’ eyeliner was messy after a night of performing, sweat still glazing his skin. He looked… tired. You’d never seen Elvis tired before, and the sight scared you more than anything. For the first time in twenty years of knowing him, he looked less than invincible.

You wiped the sweat from his forehead, leaning down to kiss him.

“I’ll be fine, really.” You smiled weakly. “You didn’t have to fire them.”

“If I ever had to see ‘em again I’d do worse than that, baby.” He pulled you in close to kiss your forehead, then your lips. “I’m gonna talk to the Colonel. Make sure he files a police report and hires real security for our next show.”

You bit your lip, remembering their words. Colonel’s orders. “Elvis…”

Your lip wobbled. Elvis trusted nobody in the world more than the Colonel, aside from his mother. Would he believe you?

Warm hands rubbed up and down your shoulders. “Hey, I’m right here.”

“The Colonel made them do it, they said he said not to let me through.” You blurted out, clamping a hand over your mouth, tears rising to your eyes again. Elvis’ hands froze on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Elvis stood up. Through your tears, you could see the fire in his eyes. You thought he was angry before? Well, he was furious now. Hands bunched to fists at his sides, he didn't move for a long moment, just stared. Then he left the room without a word.

It was common knowledge you didn’t get along with the Colonel. Elvis considered him a godsend, the man who launched his entire career. You considered him a toad, especially after one conversation you’d overheard in Graceland:

“If the fans know about her, they won’t follow you.”

Elvis thought you’d gone up to bed, but you had lingered to grab a glass of water… and listen to the men talking business. The thought had never crossed your mind before that you were part of that business.

“Little girlfriends, they don’t last. But your music? My dear boy, that is immortal- if you play your cards right.”

Elvis laughed, and your blood froze. Then the laughter stopped abruptly.

“You’re serious? What’re you talking about, Colonel?” Your boyfriend’s voice was light and playful, but there was an edge to it. Something underneath you’d never heard before. “I sing from the heart, and she is my heart. Without her, there’s no music.”

“My boy-”

“Understand me?”

“But-”

“Do you understand me?” The playfulness dropped from his voice. Elvis was easily persuaded to go along with just about anything the Colonel dreamed up (“His plans got us this far, haven’t they?”) but from that night one thing was clear: your relationship was not up for negotiation.

Until tonight.

You stayed there for a while, emptiness settling in your stomach. Elvis didn’t believe you. Why would he? The Colonel had got him this far. Got him a tour in all fifty states. Made him enough money to buy Graceland and as many Cadillacs as he could imagine. You were just a girl from Tupelo, he could find another.

Still, you waited, hoped he’d come back. You could apologize, say you must’ve misunderstood, say anything to get him back. A difficult life with Elvis and the Colonel was better than an empty life without the man you loved.

Minutes turned to a full hour, so you left, dragging your feet towards the exit, hoping your motel room would still be available to you. Elvis wouldn’t leave you in the middle of America, miles from home with no way back, would he?

Distant shouting caught your attention. You recognized Elvis’ voice immediately and followed down the corridor to a slightly-open door that simply said ‘Colonel’.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Elvis shouted so loud it made you jump, even as you paused outside the door to listen. “Who’re you gonna ban next, my mama?”

“Your mother is not the problem, my boy-” The Colonel sounded flustered, barely himself.

“And neither is she!” Elvis snarled, slamming something down inside the room. “Goddammit. I’ve told you before, I sing from the heart. You want to stop that?"

Silence. Had the Colonel ever been lost for words before?

Elvis continued, "Fine, we can break all our promises. How about this? I don’t see her backstage before and after every performance, I don’t sing. Or-" Elvis snapped his fingers, "Better idea, we go public. Let's see how many fans actually follow me for my music. I don't care about the rest of it."

“Elvis-”

“Those are your options. I’ll give you one more chance, but that’s it. And if I ever, ever find out you pulled this horseshit again, you're done."

The Colonel was silent for a while, but perhaps he muttered something quietly, or simply nodded, because the next thing you knew, Elvis was coming out of the room, fists still clenched and face flushed with anger.

All of that melted away when he saw you.

“Baby,” He murmured, taking your hand in his. “What’re you doing out here?”

"I- I thought-" Your body shook, and Elvis took the black jacket from his shoulders to drape it across yours. He led you away from the Colonel's door, back to the privacy of his dressing room.

"You don't have to throw your life away because of me." You finally said.

Elvis smiled, wiping the tears from your cheeks with both hands. "Sweet girl."

Without warning he picked you up and sat back in his chair, holding you on his lap while he peppered your face with kisses.

"A life without you? That's not one I want to be living." He pressed your foreheads together and let out a sigh. "But this right here, you and me? That's what's right. And I will protect that- protect you, Always."

#elvis x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #elvis imagine #austin!elvis imagine #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #hurt/comfort #Protective elvis #elvis fanfic

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kombuuuu · 10 months

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I’m back to bother you again😏

This isn’t really an x reader hc, but it still works

Miles uses the money he gets from his job as The Prowler to save up for gifts for things like his mother’s birthday and mother’s day. He loves her so much, he’s such a mommy’s boy, and he isn’t afraid to show it to her.

UGHHHH HES SOOOO A MOMMAS BOY

he’s such a little suck up too — you know for sure he would borderline cry in shame if he disappointed her

he cooks for her and cleans whenever he’s home

he knows how late she works at the hospital so he gets genuinely offended when she tries to do stuff around the house — like it’s a crime for her not to be resting

he’d buy her things he thinks helps her de-stress as well, just little things like face masks to do with him or hot compresses to pack in hey work bag so she isn’t feeling stiff in the shoulders all day

he DEFINITELY packs her work lunches, and beats himself the fuck up if he forgets — then goes and gets her favourite for her, showing up at her break times with a goofy little smile

rio is always gently telling him not to worry about her but he just looks at her all insulted

“Don’t be stressing about me, Miles —! Focus on your grades or something, Mijo! Go out — Have fun with your friends or something!”

“Momma, What man would I be to neglect you? You care for me — I care for you. Both ways.”

She’ll sigh and resign, and pinch his cheeks lovingly

“Just like your dad.”

he feels sooo guilty for the prowler stuff but knows it’s to keep her safe so he continues anyways

i think if she found out, lord knows she’d be devastated. but i feel — eventually he’ll explain to her how he’s basically doing the same thing his dad did? like protecting the city cause no one else can

she still HATES him doing it, and he’s still guilty beyond all wits

but she doesn’t make him stop, and when she flicks on the news — to see reports of the vigilante saving civilians from an attack on a busy office building, she’d be proud.

++ ALSO REMEMBER THE HEADCANON ABOUT MILES GETTING HIS NAILS DONE WITH HIS MA? AND LEARNING VIETNAMESE JUST TO HEAR THEM GOSSIP??? I STAND BY IT MANNN!!!!

#miles morales #rio morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth42!miles #earth 42 rio morales #eartg42! rio morales #miles morales hcs #miles morales headcanons #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles my beloved #atsv miles

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memelleity · 2 years

Text

nine perfect strangers sentence starters

❝ damn it, did you do that on purpose? ❞

❝ i was just having a quiet moment of despair. ❞

❝ i’ll see you soon, or…. or never again. ❞

❝ you know, for what it’s worth, i’m not a tragic person. ❞

❝ are you married? ❞

❝ you know, uhh, i almost didn’t come. ❞

❝ i don’t want to suffer. ❞

❝ i am perfectly willing to shut up. i’m a chronically loquacious person, and if you let me talk long enough, i always seem to find the poop and step right in it. ❞

❝ oh, i’m just your run-of-the-mill asshole. ❞

❝ does any of this feel random to you? ❞

❝ my story is… i died. ❞

❝ who do you think you’re kidding? i’ve become a punchline. ❞

❝ it’s incredible you’re still single. ❞

❝ no, i’m fine. i just, umm… just a little panic attack. they come and go. ❞

❝ we complement each other’s demons. ❞

❝ i know women like you. you’re so driven and you’re so committed to perfection that you’re not even human anymore. ❞

❝ i didn’t come here to open a vein. ❞

❝ i’d like to talk to you in private, if i may. ❞

❝ are you happy with your life? ❞

❝ you shouldn’t sneak up on people in the dark like that. ❞

❝ i’m not meditating, just despondently staring into the gaping void. ❞

❝ it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world… to be seen. ❞

❝ there’s only so much surrendering i can do. ❞

❝ as much as i love you, and i do… i’m angry. ❞

❝ i miss liking you. ❞

❝ who are you, really? ❞

❝ you’ve got an excuse for everything. ❞

❝ this is definitely not a team. i mean, this is like the opposite of a team. ❞

❝ i received some disturbing messages. threats. ❞

❝ we are and we always will be profoundly and inextricably bound. ❞

❝ digging graves is not doing my back any favors. ❞

❝ think of the people who will mourn you. what do you want them to say about your life? ❞

❝ if i did die today, nobody would care. because i’m humiliated and i am alone, and it’s only gonna get worse. ❞

❝ why are you here? ❞

❝ i’m very good in bed. ❞

❝ take your hands off me. just take your fucking hands off me! ❞

❝ you have never stood where i stand. ❞

❝ i’m a one-trick pony that can no longer do her one trick. ❞

❝ can you trust me on this? ❞

❝ it’s scary, but like in a good way. ❞

❝ i’m so sorry. i don’t know why i said that out loud. ❞

❝ you’re a real dick. ❞

❝ seriously, babe, get yourself a vibrator. let off some steam. ❞

❝ it’s good that we challenge each other. it only makes us better, right? ❞

❝ your secret’s safe with me. ❞

❝ are you sure you’re okay to do this? ❞

❝ you shit-talking me, ____? ❞

❝ we carry on because we must, right? what’s the alternative? ❞

❝ oh. you’re naked. okay. ❞

❝ you think you’re the only one who doesn’t like being dismissed? ❞

❝ what the fuck? are we on some kind of reality show or something? ❞

❝ everybody has a story. especially the people who claim otherwise. ❞

❝ how do you make your money? ❞

❝ do you really not think that you’re pretty? ❞

❝ i was just thinking i wish i could write this all down. ❞

❝ if i had known it was gonna be the last time, i’d have bothered to remember the details. ❞

❝ just take a breath. ❞

❝ well, there’s your mistake right there, thinkin’ i’m a nice guy. ❞

❝ anything you wanna tell me? ❞

❝ i…i’ve been feeling unlike myself for the better part of today. ❞

❝ you know, you could go to jail for this. ❞

❝ i didn’t see it coming. ❞

❝ we all have secrets, ____. none of us are exactly how we appear, are we? ❞

❝ aren’t you even curious, like a little bit? ❞

❝ you can sleep on the couch tonight. ❞

❝ when you arrived, you were kind of a complete jackass. and i have witnessed you becoming… less complete in that area. ❞

❝ sometimes, even in the best marriages, people pretend. it takes a little denial on both sides. ❞

❝ can i show you something? ❞

❝ i’m smiling because you’re funny. ❞

❝ i don’t wanna see you. ❞

❝ you took that from me and i can’t get it back. ❞

❝ you can do better than that. ❞

❝ why can’t you be happy for me? ❞

❝ relationships, am i right? ❞

❝ the only reason i remember you at all is because your story is so pathetic. ❞

❝ we have shared history here. i’m just saying you can talk to me. ❞

❝ i killed him. he had a mother. he had a father, you know. i killed him. i made him dead.❞

❝ this is too fast. ❞

❝ this is not about me. ❞

❝ why do you keep telling people we weren’t close? ❞

❝ i’m so lonely. i didn’t know what it felt like to be lonely, because i always had you. ❞

❝ you’re a fucking lunatic, you know that? ❞

❝ how do i even begin to say i’m sorry? ❞

❝ why is there oatmeal on my face? ❞

❝ i hear you told ____ to fuck off. ❞

❝ you think i’m the one sending you death threats? ❞

❝ i just think the world is a tough place for a kid right now. ❞

❝ i love this place. ❞

❝ there’s just no going back, right? ❞

❝ i’ve been numbing a lot of shit for a lot of years, and now here i am, facing it all, and… i’m not having the best time. ❞

❝ i wasn’t there when either of my kids were born. ❞

❝ i should’ve never come to this place. ❞

❝ i’m not sure i want any of this bad enough, ____. i’m not gonna make it. ❞

❝ i know i don’t need to be worried about you. i… i want to. ❞

❝ why all the tears? what’s wrong? ❞

❝ you’ll meet someone new. because you are a vibrant, beautiful woman. ❞

❝ i’m just really grateful for you. ❞

❝ that’s actually a good look on you. ❞

❝ what did you call me? ❞

❝ i hate bullies. ❞

❝ are you trying to kill me? ❞

❝ you actually seemed kind of mortal. like the rest of us. ❞

❝ you had a look on your face like you were gonna kiss me. ❞

❝ full disclosure, i’m a terrible kisser. ❞

❝ i think we should stick together. ❞

❝ i heard screams. ❞

❝ i wanna believe this is real. please, let this be real. ❞

❝ i love you. ❞

❝ i am sorry, but this needed to happen. ❞

❝ have you ever known me to lie? ❞

❝ i don’t think i can forgive that. ❞

❝ i don’t want to be complicit in this. ❞

❝ reason is no match for pain. ❞

❝ i fucking hate you! ❞

❝ what do you say we get out of here? ❞

❝ why are you holding my hand? ❞

❝ you don’t wanna just flip to the end of the book, do you? that’s no fun. ❞

❝ i see myself for who i am now, which is… less, quite a bit less than what i was. ❞

❝ i was fearless, and now i… i’m just… i’m just afraid. ❞

❝ look around you. everybody’s afraid. ❞

❝ you locked me in here. ❞

❝ are we leaving or not? ❞

❝ when someone seems so nice, and… and good, it turns out i’m always wrong. ❞

❝ i haven’t spoken to most of my family in years. ❞

❝ the people who should love me, they don’t even bother returning my calls. ❞

❝ i’ve been more honest with you than anyone i’ve ever met. ❞

❝ where would you go? ❞

❝ you’re very good at what you do, but you’re wrong. ❞

❝ you’re gonna leave me? ❞

❝ i’m done waiting. ❞

❝ i wasn’t gonna jump, if that’s what you’re thinking. ❞

❝ i know i’m supposed to move forward. i get that. i just don’t want to. i wanna go backwards. ❞

❝ you’re not nearly as odd as you come off. i mean that nicely. ❞

❝ looks like the shit’s hitting the fan. ❞

❝ i’m so sorry about before. i wish i could say it wasn’t me, but… i can say that it’s not the me i love. ❞

❝ i don’t think it’s safe for me to be around you. ❞

❝ do you remember what you said? ❞

❝ do not pity me. ❞

❝ i tend to babble when i’m nervous. ❞

❝ i don’t think you’re wrong. i think your… your instinct that we don’t have a chance in hell is probably correct. ❞

❝ this is your chance to start anew. ❞

❝ let me out, please. please let me out! ❞

❝ it’s food for thought, isn’t it? ❞

❝ i probably would have been a shit dad, anyway. ❞

❝ is it snowing? ❞

❝ you need to let go. ❞

❝ i thought we were gonna die. ❞

❝ we’re all gonna die, ____. just not today. ❞

❝ did you find what you were looking for? ❞

#sentence starters #starter meme #rp prompts #rp meme #sentence starter meme #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #prompt meme

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inourtownofhawkins · 9 months

Text

𝐼 𝒹𝑜.

Summary: You and Eddie have been best friends for as long as you both can remember, and while both of you secretly always wanted to be more, it was never meant to be... or was it?

Author’s note: I don't even really have an explanation for this; as soon as I heard I Do by (G)I-DLE I knew I wanted to write something with it.

CW: 18+, swearing, drinking, smoking, Eddie is a bit of a hoe, Reader does get drunk

Word count: 2.4k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

Hit me like a shot in the heart

Never shoulda played you so hard

Guess I played myself, that’s my fault

Summertime meant one thing for you: spending all of your time with your best friend, Eddie. Both of you had been friends since childhood; with your parents and Wayne being lifelong friends before you. Wayne would often babysit you when your parents were busy, so you naturally became friends with Eddie when he moved in with Wayne when you were teenagers.

Both of you would spend all day together; finding secluded spots in the woods to smoke and drink and talk about life or go swimming in Lovers Lake if the sun was out or playing video games, going to the arcade, or watching movies if it was raining. You were practically inseparable from each other.

You’d always thought Eddie was cute and even had the biggest and embarrassing crush on him for a while after the pair of you met, your diary being filled with doodles of Mrs. Eddie Munson in hearts for months on end. You never dared tell him about your crush, and by the time you felt like something might happen; Eddie had seemingly gotten a girlfriend. Well, you say girlfriend, but you were sure they were just hookups, nothing more and nothing less.

It hurt at first knowing Eddie was sleeping around and it wasn’t with you, but you got over it, you had to. There was no way in hell Eddie would ever look at you in a romantic way, anyway, both of you practically grew up together – it would be weird.

You walked through the trailer park, your backpack filled with everything you needed for the day and a towel draped over your shoulder. Summer days with Eddie were always unpredictable so it was best to always bring everything for every possibility, no matter how weird it ended up being.

Skipping up to Eddie’s trailer, you didn’t even have time to knock before the door was opened and Sloane stepped out, laughing at something Eddie had said and smelling like cigarettes and sex. You could see her neck and cleavage covered in fresh love bites, along with some older ones that had faded slightly.

You knew she’d spent the night with him; her cropped shirt and short shorts and tiny purse were a dead giveaway they’d gone out then gone back to Eddie’s. She stopped laughing as soon as she saw you, giving you an awkward and forced smile as she walked past and got to her car.

You’d seen Sloane hang around Eddie a few times; it was clear they got on like a house on fire. Eddie had never invited her when it was just you and him hanging out, he always made that clear with anyone he was “seeing” but you still saw them around while you were doing other things.

With how many times you saw him and her together and the way they were interacting, it was almost obvious that they were together, but you knew Eddie would’ve told you if they were, right?

Once Sloane had left, Eddie stepped aside to let you inside. “Hey, sweetheart, I didn’t realise you were getting here so early, I would’ve told her to leave beforehand.”

You shook your head, brushing him off as you dumped your things on the counter. “You’re alright, I would’ve called ahead if I knew you had a guest over.” You tried your best to not let it show that it clearly was bothering you, but you were always terrible at hiding things from Eddie, he knew how to read you far too well.

“If it bothers you, you know you can tell me, right? I’m not gonna get mad if it does.”

Oh, if you only knew.

You sighed. “Seriously, Eds, it doesn’t bother me… it’s just you hang out with her basically anytime you don’t hang out with me, you’re gonna make me think it’s something more than just fucking.”

“What if it was?”

I don’t even know how to think

‘Cause now she got your heart so I feel

Stupid, foolish

‘Fraid I’m losing everything

I thought I couldn’t

My whole world is falling apart

You tried to pretend like his words weren’t replaying your head all day, making your heart break over and over again. Eddie had asked you constantly if you were okay, and you constantly assured him that you were fine. He knew something was off with you, probably even knew why things were off with you but he never asked.

Even when both of you were doing your favourite things together, your mood still didn’t improve. Constantly in your head, you were thinking of him and Sloane doing those things too behind your back, even though Eddie had assured you in the past that anything he did with you was exclusive to you and him, he never did it with anyone else.

So how come you couldn’t shake the feeling that he hasn’t taken at least one of his hookups to Lovers Lake to screw?

You didn’t care. You didn’t care. You didn’t fucking care.

Eddie could do whatever he wanted, it’s not like he’d ever even notice that you were hopelessly in love with him and the reason you never went on dates with anyone else was because of your feelings for Eddie.

You knew your feelings for him were holding you back. Heck, Eddie would even say it himself. He’d say that being in love with someone you couldn’t be with was stopping you from living your life, hooking up with people, going to parties, potentially meeting someone new.

But you didn’t want any of that, you just wanted Eddie.

Sure, there’d been potentially other guys, but they never came remotely close to replacing Eddie, no matter how hard they’d tried.

The images of Eddie and Sloane or literally other girl you’d ever seen him with clouded every single thought you had, and it was starting to give you a headache, no matter how much water you drank or food you ate.

Once again, Eddie had asked if you were okay, and you brushed him off. “I just have a headache; I might head off and get some sleep.”

Eddie frowned, he almost looked disappointed at you going home early but he didn’t say it. Instead, he helped you to your feet and began packing up both of your things. “I can drive you home.”

“No, that’s okay. I wanna walk.” You shook your head, grabbing your backpack from him and forcing your feet into your converse. You barely even looked at him before you walked away from him, because you knew if you did, you’d start to cry. All you wanted was to be alone and only have a bottle of alcohol for company while you sobbed and listened to sad love songs, not exactly an unusual way for you to spend your nights.

Don’t you go falling in love

Trust me she’s not the one

She won’t ever

Love you like I do

Hold you like I do, know you like I do

Once you got home, you locked your bedroom door and stared at your phone’s lock screen, expecting Eddie to call but he never did. He texted to make sure you were okay, got home safe and even apologised for whatever he’d said. But you knew he didn’t know exactly what he did wrong, not that you’d tell him.

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you sat down towards the end of it and just stared at the floor. You knew you couldn’t keep up the façade of hiding your feelings towards Eddie anymore, you had to tell him but if he was really dating Sloane like you assumed and he somewhat implied, your feelings wouldn’t even matter to him anyway.

Your eyes darted up to the half full bottle of vodka on your desk, a shot glass close by. You knew it would be irresponsible of you to drink, especially with your headache and the day you’d had but surely it couldn’t hurt to have one shot, right?

Grabbing the bottle, you poured yourself a shot and downed it, cringing a little as it went down your throat. You took a sip of water to help get rid of the taste before you looked at your phone again, still no phone call or new texts from Eddie. You debated on calling him or texting him back but you were still somewhat upset with him and so you concluded the only way you’d say anything to him would be if you had more alcohol. You grabbed the bottle again and instead of pouring another shot, you just unscrewed the lid and took a swig and forced yourself to swallow it, no matter how disgusting it felt and how much it burned your throat. You didn’t even allow yourself to have some water to wash it down, you just didn’t want to be sober anymore.

You repeated taking large swigs several more times before the world began to spin around you, even though you knew you were sitting still. It felt like nothing in your life mattered anymore, and it felt amazing. You got giggly and took another drink, laughing at yourself for spilling some of it on your shirt before you set it down on your bedside table.

Picking up your phone again, you could barely unlock it and tap Eddie’s name to call him properly, it took you far too many attempts. But once you called, he picked up on the third ring. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you were slurring over your words. “I’ve never been better… listen, I’m still mad at you.”

From the other side of the phone, you could hear Eddie walking about and the opening and closing of doors, the loud jingle of his keys. “I can barely understand you, darling. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“You’re not listening to me! I said I’m still mad at you!”

“I’m listening, sweetheart,” his soothing voice only made your heart melt even more than it already does anytime you hear it. “Tell me where you are.”

“I’m at home but Eddie…” you felt hot tears well up in your eyes and fall down your cheeks. “I love you; I always have. And I’m mad at you because you don’t even notice me, you’re with Sloane now and that’s fine but I can’t just keep going on with my life without saying anything. It’s killing me to know that you don’t even see how much I love you and that I want to be with you, but I know you don’t feel the same way.”

You were completely unaware while you ranted, but Eddie was driving as fast as he legally could over to yours as soon as you told him where you were. And once you began professing your love, he only wanted to be there more. He wanted to tell you everything on his mind, but he knew you needed to get this off your chest first and he would far prefer to tell you in person. Even if you were horrendously drunk and most likely wouldn’t remember much of what was said.

Your ranting of professing your love for Eddie had turned into nonsensical babbling, and mostly got muffled by your tears and lying on your bed. Eddie was still listening although had arrived outside your house, and knowing you liked to keep your window open at night during the summer, he muted himself before sliding his phone into his back pocket and climbed up the drainpipe to your bedroom window.

He grabbed his phone again and unmuted himself. “Sweetheart, can you let me in? I’m outside your window.”

You stopped mid-sentence when you looked out your window to see Eddie, opening your window wider to let him in before shakily moving aside to get out of the way. He gracefully climbed into your bedroom and sat on your bed beside you, kicking off his sneakers.

“Whatever made you think I never loved you back, hm?” he asked, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“All those girls you hooked up with, and then how happy you seemed to be with Sloane. I couldn’t not think you didn’t love me or even knew that I loved you,” you sniffled, looking down at your hands.

Eddie shook his head, gently placing a couple fingers underneath your chin to make him look up at you. Both of you looked into each other’s eyes without saying a word before he closed the gap, gently kissing you. It was quick, but sweet and said everything he needed to. “Even if you’re massively drunk, I hope you remember me saying this; I love you too. And I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it this whole time and hurting you in the process; you’re the only person I want to be around and honestly, the only person I want to go on dates with and sleep with.”

Even though you were drunk out of your mind, you repeated his words over and over in your mind as you moved to kiss him again. You wanted to remember everything, or at least as much as you were able to. Forever the gentleman, Eddie returned your kisses but only left it at kissing; he’d stroke your cheek and cuddle you but never did anything else, despite your drunken protests.

Both of you ended up lying on your bed, your head on his chest and his hands playing with your hair. You’d gotten to talking about anything and everything, only interrupted by the occasional kiss and exchanging of “I love you”s but by the time the sun began to rise above the horizon, you both knew the serious question had to be asked.

Your drunkenness had almost completely passed as you looked at him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “So, what does this make us now? Are we friends, are we boyfriend and girlfriend now, what are we?”

Eddie gently held your face in his hands, his thumb stroking your cheek. “We can be whatever you want us to be. Although, I don’t think I want to go back to being friends.”

“So let’s not.”

Don’t you go fallin’ in love

‘Cause I’ma break that shit up

I won’t let her

Love you like I do

Touch you like I do, nothing like I do

#spilled ink #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff

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agendabymooner · 10 months

Text

colour me your colour || toto w. (5)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Breakfast dates can turn into a shitshow if you allowed pressure and stress to get in the way of your sweet conversation. Plus, it turns out that Toto Wolff knows who she was- only telling her about it as he recalls what he saw few years ago.

Content warning: A case of burnout, brief use of explicit language, people trying to cope by flirting (Tilly), Christian Horner, journalists being too much, Tilly trying not to cry by talking to herself.

Note: Thank you all sm for the 75 followers! I'm going try not to flop this time. Enjoy xx

masterlist

v. how to romance and cry in the same day

“…I have attached the document in this email. If you need help let me know…”

I don’t need help. I need to quit.

If anyone can see my face right now, they will run away knowing that they witnessed steam coming out of my ears. Or at least, that’s what Toto can see as I can see a frown on his face. The paper in his hand is long forgotten as he continues to show his concern. I’m still not looking at him, instead I’m staring at my screen hoping that it’ll crack from the anger that I’m feeling.

Who the fuck decided that it’s a good idea to email someone on a well deserved paid vacation for work? When you can simply just have the person in the next room do it?

Clearly, them. I huff out silently. In an office with fifteen writers, they decided that underappreciated workers should do the revising. I wasn’t alone in this.

They insist on having me work on it, obviously as I remember the 5 missed calls from the office. They have enough time to call me, why can’t they have the time to do it themselves?

“…Schatz?”

I jump in response to the sudden call from Toto, my hands accidentally throwing the phone away. I curse beneath my breath before I reach for it, throwing it into my purse.

His eyes are laced with curiosity, “Are you alright?”

I nod, now remembering I have a company. One that I’m supposed to be entertaining instead of taking the piss from Vogue. “I’m alright, how’re you liking the scone?”

“It’s good,” he nods before he sets down the newspaper in his hand. “You have not touched your food yet.”

Right. My hand reaches for the crumpet in my plate, my teeth digging into my breakfast as I chew quietly. My eyes are still staring elsewhere, and clearly it’s beginning to bother Toto because of the constant dissociation.

“You’re not alright,” he deduces, making me nod in agreement. There’s really no point in denying. Throughout the beginning of our breakfast, I already told him about my work. He knows how miserable and pathetic my life is, and what did he do as he listened? He smiled kindly, his brows laced with concern, everything that I had seen from other people. But he listened, and I like him for it.

Not wanting to elaborate anymore, he notices how quiet I am and so he decides to say, “You were enjoying your research paper years ago, but you do not look like someone who’s been happy with your job for a while now. You should leave the company.”

I pause, looking up at him. He does… “You remember me,” I watch him nod in confirmation as I continue, “you know who I am. From Dubai.”

He only shrugs like I just asked him if the sky was blue. How can he sit here and act like it’s a normal Tuesday? Does he even know what kind of effect he had on me? This utter— he knows who I am and he doesn’t even mention it until now!

He doesn’t read my mind, but he explains, “You are an impressive woman. It’s difficult not to forget about you when you speak so passionately about writing and your courses back then.”

“It was a short-lived conversation, was it not?” I ask him, wondering how he’d managed to remember that whole fifteen minutes. Those fifteen minutes of nothing but university work and exchanging questions felt like a long time.

“I admit, it took me the whole day to figure out who you were,” he chuckles, making me smile. “The conversation we had was… memorable to say the least. But it turned foggy the moment I became Team Principal.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” I laugh quietly, “If anything I feel bad for not asking for your name. Your teammate had done it for you. Torger.”

He nods, recalling what he’s just talking about before I rattled off about Dubai. “But there’s just something missing from you now that you had back then…”

“…what is it?” Is he this observant? Has he stared at people for a while before telling them what he has noticed?

“The smile on your face,” he answers, his voice showing nothing of emotion as he says, “you still have the passion for it but now… the smile isn’t there anymore. At least the one that goes from one ear to another.”

I can’t even speak. Thank goodness he continues on, “Would you consider it a dream if everyone’s making it a nightmare?”

If the silence wasn't deafening before, I can barely imagine being talkative now. He holds my stare, his eyes softening at the sight. I look pathetic, I just know it.

“I… I don’t even know,” I murmur, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s not easy to get away from the company. I’ve been writing for them and if I left then… I’ve no one to use as a reference… or even take my projects. Seeing as it’s under their license and all that.”

“Ah…” Toto replies quietly, nodding at the response. He leans forward, making me look at him as he says, “But between your ambition and health, I think that you should see your health off first. If they are making it hard for you, your goal is harder to reach.”

My view of Toto Wolff just changed here. Me, sitting across from him with the pessimism that my life carried— I can see him in a new light.

I can see myself in a new light. He isn’t wrong. How am I going to do well in my career if my employers are the exact reason why I’m miserable in the first place? How am I going to find inspiration if all I feel is isolated and locked up?

Why do I continue to act like they’d give me a chance? I’ve brought up the discussion of getting a promotion for two years, and my career is a discussion that they continue to put on hold.

No fuck that.

But still… I can’t quit my job, can I? How am I going to be a successful editor if I’m going to leave?

My inner dialogue clearly has an effect on behalf of Toto’s entertainment. His handsome smile, from what I gather is a rarity, appeared right in front of me as I gulped. Toto isn’t wrong. If I want to be better… just find a place who’s more than willing to help me.

I reach for my tea as I ask, “How are you as handsome as you are good at giving out advice?”

His chuckle melts the stress away for a second, his amusement becoming more clear as he continues to stare at me. Is this what they call heart eyes? Yeah I really don’t want to listen to Daniel or Lewis.

“And how are you as beautiful as you are stubborn?” He asks back, making me giggle quietly as I sip on my tea.

“It’s a requirement if you wish to oppose Christian Horner all the time,” I jest, “you can get away from trouble easily.”

“I’ve seen it yesterday,” Toto sighs contentedly before he smirks, “I am more worried about being disarmed by your strong will and beauty instead of the higher up’s rules and regulations. I hope you’re not the one I have to face in case our teams get into an altercation. I do not enjoy losing to Red Bull, of all things.”

—

The restaurant, while it is in a secluded location by the Silverstone Park, was jam-packed by the time we left after finishing our breakfast. We need to head to the venue soon before Christian gets there. Then maybe I can shit on his life about being late. Maybe.

But our arrival at the Silverstone Circuit was more chaotic.

“Shit,” I curse out, grabbing my Red Bull ball cap from my purse and slipping it on. I can’t even see anything besides from the dark abyss that I called my purse, my hand trying to get a feel of my sunglasses. It doesn’t take me a while to find it and put it on, looking at Toto who’s already on his way out of the vehicle with his bag. Unbuckling my seat, I look at the passenger side as Toto swings it open. He gestures for me to come out, and I do so with a murmur of thanks.

By the time I hopped out of the passenger seat of Toto’s Mercedes, I was already welcomed by the clicking of the cameras. Alongside the annoying noise are questions coming from journalists who wish to ask questions about the qualifying today.

Looking around, however, I notice that there are a certain amount of paparazzi that I grew familiar with. I knew them by faces. And knowing them, they didn’t want anything that had to do with the race weekend. I just went on a breakfast with a CEO and we’re already adding fuel to the fire that was the British media. I gesture at Toto to speed up his walk while we pass by the cameras and the questions.

It’s either I gesture and he won’t understand or I drag him. But grabbing him by the arm will only cause an uproar in the gossip world. People are always thirsty for drama. Getting involved with me, a Hearth child (one that hasn't been on a date for a decade AND presumed to be the It Girl by the media), will only cause more stress on Toto’s behalf. I am not about to let him get through that.

But he doesn’t understand what I asked of him non-verbally, instead he turns around to provide quick answers to questions about today and what may happen tomorrow. I wait there impatiently, looking down on the ground as I wish to no longer gather more attention regardless of the amount of photos already taken of me by standing there.

“What’s your relationship with Tilly Hearth?”

“What are your thoughts about her job in Red Bull?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Toto!” The Mercedes’ PR assistant finally comes as she excuses herself, putting herself in between her boss and the cameras as she asks to have them step aside. Certain paparazzo finally looked at my direction, realizing that they haven't asked me anything yet. I gulped, already backing away from the scene.

The PR assistant tells them that Toto will have enough time to answer later on, but by the time that Toto turns back, I’m already speed walking to the Red Bull hospitality.

And it doesn’t end there. Daniel and Sebastian caught me walking from the direction of the dispersing crowd— where Toto was— and decided that this was their chance to tease me.

Now I’m here with my phone in hand, Daniel still poking me at my side as I grumpily look at him. Apparently, seeing workplace romance is a rarity and so he’s taken this as an opportunity to tell me that he wants to see how my slow burn “relationship” with Toto goes. Relationship. Really!

My phone pings as Daniel perks up and asks, “That Toto?”

I glare at him, “Don’t you even, Daniel.”

“Tilly,” I turn around and face Christian. He gestures for me to follow as I wave at Daniel, telling him I’ll be back.

Christian pulls me out of the garage as I cross my arms. Sensing my annoyance, he sighs as he reassures me, “I’m not saying anything—“

“—yet,” I interrupted him.

“But I arrived just about twenty minutes ago and there are journalists asking about you,” I frown at that. Surely he doesn’t mean… “And Toto. They said you two got here together?”

Oh… of course. Yeah, he does mean the one thing that I hoped he wouldn’t bring up.

“Did you see my Bentley parked outside?” I sarcastically reply. It’s too early for my behaviour, I admit, and it even pisses me off because I can’t be nice to him. But instead of allowing him to reply, I add, “It’s not much of a big deal, is it?”

“It is,” he shakes his head. “Some people are assuming you’re either working for Mercedes or that you’re spying on—“

“Oh for god’s sake,” I roll my eyes. “I am not, I promise. Why am I even swearing I’m not doing anything stupid? I don’t think whatever I do outside work is going to be reported to my father or something.” My hands will literally carry 20% of Red Bull. What makes them think I’ll do something stupid like sell my shares to other rivals?

“Yes but be cautious,” he says firmly, “because no matter how you’ve insisted you’re not doing anything, the media can turn it all around.”

“I know,” I roll my eyes again, I think they’ll pop out of their sockets soon enough. “I grew up in front of cameras, Christian. British media, even. Those journalists outside were people that asked a lot of questions whenever I’m out and about.”

“So you understand how ruthless they could get,” Christian nods, sighing as he leans against the surface. “I trust you enough with PR, I don’t even know why I even pulled you out of the garage when you can handle the journalists on your own.”

“Because it’s with Wolff,” I smirk, “you’re worried about me being snatched by him, aren’t you?”

He scoffs, a chuckle escaping his lips as he says, “He’s not exactly subtle on taking interest in you and your skills.”

“Hm,” I nod, looking eyes moving along the people that walked down to their respective garages. “Don’t worry, he’s not going to be able to discuss any Red Bull-Mercedes business with me. Not unless I have been put to work for it.”

“Good,” he nods again, “good. I would hate to be in the way of your… whatever it is.”

Wow, he’s pretty kind. Maybe because he doesn’t want to lose his patience early this morning. Good.

I’m still standing there when I ducked my head, hiding my face away as Toto walks towards their garage with selected people from his staff. Sensing that he’s away, I look up to see Christian’s smug smile. For someone who doesn’t like Toto, he seems to be enjoying whatever’s going on. Maybe he’s getting a laugh out of this predicament because I was so irritated yesterday–seeing me in a flustered state today is a different story.

“Is that it?” I ask him, my nose scrunching up in annoyance.

He nods and then says, “I’ll stop bothering you about him for now. But, I’d also like to know if you’d be interested in joining the Sky Sports hosts sometime today. You’ve done public speaking before, no?”

I look at him funny. Remembering that I just started today, I felt the need to nod. Nobody knew about my masters. Did they? It doesn’t matter.

“If I have to be,” I shrug.

“It’d be a good thing to bring you there,” he tells me, making me want to roll my eyes. Just a few minutes ago, this man was coming after me about Toto. “Daniel and Sebastian would definitely have a field day if you’re the one interviewing them. What do you say?”

“Is it scripted,” I ask, “or do I have to improvise?”

“To avoid problems revolving bias, I’d say scripted. Unless you’ve a question of your own. Be as entertaining as you want. As long as it’s not going to tell people that you favour one team. I think Sky Sports just want you to be there for the post-qualifying interview.” Me? Just me? No one else’s communications liaison?

“What kind of stories do you tell them,” I frown suspiciously. Second day of work and everyone wants me in their team. He is clearly hiding something. He’s been making sure that I’m doing my job exactly how they want it. Wherever I went yesterday, he made sure that I was the one in front of the cameras. Now he’s asking me to interview the drivers post-qualification. He knows something that I don’t.

“You’ve been mentioned a lot for the past few months,” he starts, “during meetings, FIA, to be exact–”

“I have a lot of questions,” I say, my mouth opened due to the surprise. I was never told about FIA, and being the hot topic of their delegations.

“Your father’s an executive,” he reminds me, “and I know that sounds like Red Bull, or Ferrari or even McLaren are under FIA’s list of favoured teams.”

I scoff, “He owns the competitors in question.”

“I know,” he agrees, “but he only has enough power in each team. He cannot ever interfere with how they operate.”

At least he’s smart enough to do that. If he badly wants his legacy to continue, I don’t think corruption is the way to go.

“What about me? Why am I the discussion of your…meetings?” I ask, internally smacking myself for prying. I always claimed that I liked the feeling of suspense. I didn’t care for details except when I could see them with my own eyes. Now, I’m a child during Christmas - except I'm dreading what’s coming.

He gives me a straightforward answer, “Julius wants you to take control of his shares. He’s up for promotion in the FIA but he can’t just carry us and the other two in his arms without being accused of conflict of interest.”

Oh.

That’s interesting.

Not only is he asking me to do his part at these events, but he’s also selling me out to his own company just so he can continue being who he is in the federation. Greedy.

He didn’t get the memo when I said I wanted to pursue fashion and journalism. He continues to put me in these positions– WITHOUT consulting me. For fuck’s sake!

My lips tighten, wondering if I can say no for today. Technically, I can say no. But my people pleaser demon decided for me.

“I’ll be there,” I murmur, my chest feeling heavy as I breathe shakily.

“What where?” He asks, confusion written all over his face.

“Wherever they want me,” I say, already feeling exhausted and defeated, “just—just have someone take us there before anything.”

“You got it,” he nods, reaching out to pat my shoulder before he walks off.

I look down on my phone and read the text from my supervisor.

“I know you have a part time job this weekend but I would really really appreciate it if you send in your piece so we can go through it together this Monday. Thx xx”

I’m going to cry. Then, after that, I’m going to get ready to put on a smile in front of the camera. Charm works for so many people, at least according to my mother. What she didn’t know, though, is that my charm doesn’t do much to my father.

Maybe if I put on my fakest smile, that’ll charm the pants off everyone. I don’t like the thought of working here, but with no choice, I only have to stand in front of the camera and pretend that I’m enjoying it.

Where’s Toto when you want him?

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