#boot them ASAP

[undescribed1mage]

Lindsay Atherton, Lillie-Pearl Wildman, Clarice Julianda, Imogen Bailey, Kamilla Fernandes, and Bobbie Chambers in Newsies!: The Musical <3

🎥: @lasagnatrades

[risingsunresistance]

getting back into minecraft has just reminded me that everyone is miserable and trapped in an endless cycle of "i've invested too much of my life into this game so i HAVE to keep playing or else i lose part of my identity. even though i dont like it and it doesnt make me happy and i hate the entire dev team and every single update that gets pushed out"

[thelonelywiz]

if I had a nickel for every time generative ai got brought up within a group of creatives and a handful of ppl either used it often or were passive about it being in the creative space, I’d have two nickels.

not a lot but it’s weird it happened twice right

[silent-sentinels]

well. woke up. too worried to go back to sleep. too sleepy to do anything else. we'll be here i guess hgghf

[sesamenom]

some funny snippets of a tentative timeline for the reverse gondolin au

[bestboiraditz]

I was watching some old clips of Raditz and I realized something interesting about this characterization. Yes, Raditz is immediately interesting because he's Goku's older brother, but he's made even MORE interesting in my opinion thanks to the brief characterization he's allowed to have.

Take his first lines to Goku:

He doesn't immediately berate him for his failure to purge the planet, he takes a moment to muse on how much Goku has grown and how he looks just like their father Bardock. Keep in mind, Bardock wasn't even a spark in Toriyama's mind, so for him to have Raditz say this when he's supposed to be a throwaway villain shows an unusual level of fondness for family, especially considering what we later learn about Saiyans

Raditz, upon realizing Goku doesn't remember him, isn't just annoyed that Goku forgot his mission, but seems distraught that his little brother doesn't remember him.

It's a small detail, but again, cements that Raditz shows an unusual level of attachment to family bonds, especially for a Sayain.

And then (and this is something important to keep in mind) he declares that he will find a way to recover his little brother's memories because Goku is NEEDED.

His priority isn't to get the planet purged or punish Goku for failing, it's to regain the only biological bond he has left, however little of it there may be.

I find it interesting Toriyama wrote this piece of dialogue. It just seems odd he would write such layered dialogue to characterize a villain he always intended to kill off ASAP. I guess it was to play into the whole "subverting the brother trope" but still, it doesn't make the characterization any less interesting

When Raditz tells Goku how their planet was destroyed and how everyone died, he AGAIN emphasizes that this means their parents died too.

Again, Raditz really seems to put value on his family. Note he says PARENTS not just father. Even Vegeta, for as long as we've gotten to know him, never talks about his father King Vegeta that much (if at all? He's thought about him, but not really talked about him) I find Goku's reaction interesting too, as if deep inside, despite not remembering Bardock and Gine, his heart still feels the pain of losing them. (Could it be possible Raditz noticed his reaction and took that as a sign that Goku felt the bond too, hence his following actions?)

Like @masakoxtra said, Bardock's line seems to be unusually empathetic for Saiyans. (He talks about it at 3:30)

Even Raditz, despite living his whole life under Frieza's boot and submitting to the bullying and callousness of Vegeta and Nappa and hardening his heart because of it, hasn't completely lost his sense of empathy, it's part of his nature albeit incredibly suppressed.

Raditz then has an unusually distressed response when he realizes Goku doesn't have a tail.

He doesn't mock him for losing it or immediately gets disgusted by his weakness, he is outright horrified and then gets mad at Goku for letting others just remove his tail (From Raditz's perspective, It would be like if Goku just let his arm get cut off to fit in with a race of one-armed aliens).

For Raditz, he views it as a form of betrayal, not just of his race, but the idea that his own brother would rather pass as a lowly earthling than embrace his own heritage (family being something Raditz clearly values) really gets to Raditz on an emotional level.

Now that I think about it, Raditz kinda goes through 4 out of 5 of the stages of grief for the brief time he's alive.

His first reaction is denial that Goku had forgot him and accepted life on earth, then anger that he would rather live as an earthling than be with his Saiyan kin, and then he starts the bargaining phase, trying to entice Goku with the idea of fighting saying that he's a Saiyan and it's in his blood.

When that bargaining doesn't work, he resorts to a different form of bargaining.

Blackmail.

Raditz steals Gohan trying to force Goku to join him. He tells Goku to kill 100 humans by tomorrow as proof of his submission, but pay attention to the wording:

Raditz says "when you decide to join us, and you WILL decide to" that's how much confidence he has in Goku's devotion towards his son EVEN THOUGH Goku's a Saiyan.

Raditz doesn't have a shadow of a doubt that Goku will do everything in his power to protect his son, even if he is a weak crybaby. Saiyans don't typically care much for their kin as shown in several flashback material later on (in fact it's later explained that they'll completely disown and abandon babies that are too weak to be considered useful. They have a very Spartan-esque society).

But Raditz knows he can use Gohan as leverage because Raditz actually understands emotional connections between family members, something he would've likely valued all the more being considered weak himself.

A lot of times people are able to use emotional manipulation because they either understand or were a victim of similar manipulation.

He then warns Goku that he might as well comply because everyone is going to die anyway, the earth being scheduled for purging. He hammers home the point that Goku's defiance is pointless and he really doesn't have a choice anyway so he may as well submit.

But what Raditz is doing here is almost an act of compassion (for a Saiyan). The way he sees it, Goku will die if he doesn't comply, so joining them is the only way he'll be able to survive. If he didn't care about Goku's life, why warn him? Why give him a chance to prove himself?

In fact, why would Raditz need Goku to prove himself when he was willing to take him without that before?

This is just an idea, but could it be...because of his scouter?

Remember, his scouter was open the entire time so Vegeta and Nappa are listening in. If Vegeta was listening it, after hearing about Goku's weak power level and his defiance and kind-nature, Raditz probably knew Vegeta might just dispose of Goku when they returned, considering him a disgrace to the Saiyan race. So Raditz has to have Goku prove himself by killing a bunch of humans to show Vegeta he's worth keeping alive.

It's horrific in Goku's eyes, but to Raditz, the lives of a few humans is inconsequential compared to his brother. This again is why Raditz says Goku has no choice, Vegeta won't give them a choice.

This also might be desperation on Raditz's part. If we are to consider the opening of Dragonball Z: Kakarot canon, Vegeta and Nappa mock him, Nappa going as far as to declare it's why he's called "Raditz the Runt", apparently a knickname he's saddled with in the Frieza force.

Raditz, instead of responding angrily or protesting as most Saiyans would, bows his head and pathetically apologizes, promising things will be different next time, showing that not only is this bullying common, but Raditz has just accepted it at this point. The way Raditz treats Goku when meeting him may stem from this treatment, he's trying to sway his brother the only way he's seen, through brute force and intimidation.

But Vegeta, getting sick of Raditz's weakness, promises to kill him if he screws up again, and if Vegeta promises death, you know it's coming. Raditz, panicking as his self-preservation instincts kick in, mentions his brother, saying he can help make things easier, but really Raditz just doesn't want Vegeta to kill him. Even then, Vegeta scoffs "The fact that he's YOUR brother doesn't exactly fill me with confidence" It's possible that Raditz did actually forget his brother and it was only in his panic, scrambling mentally for any way to save his life, that in that moment of desperation he at last remembered Kakarot.

Again, if we are to consider this conversation canon, Raditz needs Goku to survive to better the odds of his own survival, it's only after he's in a pod heading to Earth that he has time to think about Kakarot and wonder why he hasn't tried contacting them after so long.

But back to the OG manga, After Raditz gives Goku his ultimatum, he says this:

Again, he could've stopped at "I hope you don't disappoint me" but to follow it up by emphasizing it's for both his and Gohan's sake is noteworthy.

And even though Raditz clearly doesn't have much of a connection with Gohan as he does with Goku, I find this bit particularly interesting:

He barks at Gohan to stop crying and states that he possesses the proud blood of Saiyans. Yes, he is annoyed by Gohan's crying, but he also feels that he's better than that since he is still a Saiyan and wants him to be strong.

I like to imagine that Raditz is repeating something Bardock told him when he cried as a child, it feels like a very Bardock thing to say.

I particularly like the english dub of this scene, Justin Cook gives such an interesting and tender delivery of the line.

Also I really like how Raditz pauses to look at Gohan before walking away in the anime, I like to interpret it as Raditz seeing a bit of himself as a child in Gohan, but quickly burying those feelings.

There's a little fancomic I found that really drives that idea home.

When Goku and Piccolo show up, before they even fight, Raditz says this:

Again, why warn Goku? This feels more like Raditz is still in the bargaining mindset, he's trying to get his brother to give up and now must resort to brutally beating him to get his point through.

And then followed by this.

Remember, his scouter is open, so it's entirely possible he's acting ruthless and declaring they'll die so he won't look soft to Vegeta. I mean, he'd kill Piccolo without a thought, yeah, but Goku...? It may still be a bluff.

Plus, if he was serious about killing them, why stand around and let them plot instead of finishing them off?

The tail scene is where we see Raditz's cowardly nature on full display. But I think this moment really enhances his character because most Saiyans probably wouldn't beg for their lives, at least not to the degree Raditz is doing, they're too proud a race.

Raditz starts rambling about how he'd never actually kill his brother and his death threats were just bluffs.

Yes, we know it's a ploy to get free, but could there be an iota of truth in there? The fact he could've cut off his tail but was waiting for Piccolo to fire off his second Makenkosopo shows that Raditz is a quick thinker and very calculating.

Plus he probably didn't want to have to lose his tail unless he absolutely HAD to.

Goku was NOT stupid for letting go.

After Goku releases him, Raditz mocks his softness stating that he, a Saiyan-warrior wouldn't hesitate to kill their own brother, only to confusedly ask if Goku wants "a demonstration".

Like, if he wouldn't hesitate to kill his brother, why is he hesitating to kill his brother?

He's not killing him, he's torturing him, he could easily end it.

Remember that Double Sunday he shot off with ease earlier?

And of course after Raditz and Goku get turned into donuts, Raditz says one of the saddest lines in retrospect:

Like, he is relying on Vegeta and Nappa to save him, believing that they'll value him as a Saiyan and bring him back because HE HAS NO ONE ELSE TO RELY ON.

Right before he dies, he's in a sort of stage 4 depression where he can't believe this is how his life is going to end, dying alone and disgraced on some backwater planet at the hands of his own brother, their family line coming to a miserable end. He's never allowed to come to stage 5: acceptance (which is often where the change in a person's perspective/character tends to happen) because he dies and is forgotten.

Another thing that makes me sad Raditz didn't survive is cuz he's the perfect medium between Goku and Vegeta.

Goku rejects his saiyan heritage while Vegeta clings to it, but Raditz feels like he could easily straddle both worlds. He'd cling to his saiyan heritage out of love and respect for his parents (He'd still call Goku Kakarot, not because "it's a Saiyan name" like Vegeta, but because it's the name Bardock and Gine gave, his reason a much more personal one).

However, Raditz would have plenty of things NOT to like about Saiyan society, especially with how he and his father were treated as low-class warriors.

Being on earth, surrounded by kind people who don't belittle him and show basic kindness and respect would quickly endear Raditz to earth (remember, Bardock's kin are unusually empathetic for Saiyans).

Plus, being around Goku, who'd no doubt encourage and be proud of Raditz whilst training, would do a lot to boost Raditz's confidence (Goku looking like Bardock a way to ease his yearning to prove himself to his father) and further make him enjoy earth.

I like to imagine that, while Goku always wears a training gi from earth and Vegeta always wears some semblance of saiyan armor, Raditz would probably have a saiyan breastplate resembling Bardock's (as a kind of tribute to his dad) and go with loose pants like Goku which is good for training, visually symbolizing his willingness to find the balance between two worlds.

If Raditz had survived in the canon, this could've played even further into Vegeta's sense of isolation post-Cell arc. During his whole Majin Vegeta vs Goku fight speech, he could've said something like "And imagine the frustration I felt, when the only other pure-blood of my race left, your brother, that low-level trash who'd trembled for years under my elite warrior might, not only obtained the power of a super saiyan, but deemed me, ME the prince of all Saiyans UNWORTHY of his time! UNWORTHY FOR HIM TO FIGHT!"

Oh, and...

Must run in the family.

[greenllamas]

The Sangria Collection (7 items) | greenllamas

The Sangria Collection consists of 7 new items to dress your sims up in for a perfect dinner at dusk, ready to enjoy the last of the summer with a pitcher of red sangria nectar.

This collection includes:

2 Hairs

2 Tops

2 Bottoms

1 Fullbody

Shoes featured are by @sentate. The boots are from the downtown collection.

notes:

All items have LODs, shadows, spec, and bumps + custom thumbnails so you should be able to find everything in the same place as the rest of my stuff in CAS.

All items are tagged as feminine

For more details on how many swatches each item has + the names visit the item index linked below.

If there are any issues with the items PLEASE let me know and I will try to get them fixed asap!

🔗DOWNLOAD (free)  | Item Index | instagram

[cherrixpie]

NEMESIS

part three of five

↬ you were supposed to steer clear of mattheo riddle. Shame that he was just so irrestible.

↬ sfw; wc: 7.0k; cw: blood, mentions of violence, mattheo needs therapy asap; tags: gryffindor!reader, muggleborn!reader, enemies to lovers, my favorite part so far ngl

( masterlist )

previously on nemesis…

Mattheo Riddle stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling in uneven, ragged breaths, knuckles still stained with the dark red of drying blood. His brown hair was a chaotic mess, wild curls fell into his stormy eyes, which burned with some unspoken rage- or perhaps mere adrenaline. The candlelight of the room flickered across him, illuminating the sharp contrast of the crimson streaks marring his jawline and collar. His shirt was rumpled and torn at the hem, blood smudged along the fabric as though he'd wiped his hands there in a haste. He looked slightly feral, yet oddly composed, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips when his eyes landed on you.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice low and edged with amusement as he stepped into the room, boots heavy on the flagstone floor. His gaze roamed over your sitting figure, taking in your startled expression, the nightdress you'd thrown on prematurely and now regretted even owning as it made you feel utterly exposed and vulnerable under his heated stare.

“Didn't think I'd have company tonight.” He swiped a hand through his hair, smearing the blood further, the act almost calculated in its casualness. His lips quirked into a crooked grin, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What’s wrong, princess? Can't see blood?” There was a teasing lilt to his words, but his eyes lingered on you a moment too long, as though he were trying to decide what to make of you- or what you might make of him. Your alarm rang, but neither of you averted your eyes from one another. Finally, you raised your voice, but it was but a timid mumbling. The strange sense of security of the forest had left you.

“Would you like a muffin?”

He didn't react at first, instead letting his eyes rake over your figure. Without a word, he slumped down on the bench opposite you with the table ensuring a distance between you. He leaned back casually and placed a finger on his lips as if lost in thought, but his eyes were as awake as those of a hawk, registering every little squirm, every raise and fall of your chest.

To escape his stare, you rose from your seat in a haste and walked over to the oven. The muffins had turned out well and you left them on the table to cool off. Then, you worked up the courage to turn around and meet his dark eyes. They hadn't retracted from your figure and you couldn't suppress a shiver. In a way, he reminded you of a predator, siting to attack, cowering for the jump, ready to go off at any second now.

“How did you find someone to beat up at three in the morning?” you asked, thankful that your voice didn't shake. He blinked, for the first time, as if he was pulled out of a haze. It was a paradox, how you found yourself reassured when he quirked a smirk, however dangerous and sinister it may be, because he looked like himself again. When did that begin to be a calming thing? Something had to be seriously wrong with you.

Mattheo waited with an answer, fishing another pack of cigarettes from his trousers' pockets and igniting one. The smell lingered uncomfortably in the air, but you pretended you could neither smell nor see it, knowing by his heavy stare, he was burning to elicit a reaction from you. “Terry Boot. That ravenclaw prefect.” You knew Terry, you sat with him in Arithmancy. Though he was a bit of a know-it-all and a little arrogant, you got along just fine. Terry wasn't one to pick fights, but you wouldn't have suspected him of being the culprit anyway.

With a deliberate movement, you sat back down across from him. You hid your shaking hands under the table and managed to return his gaze steadily. “Why did you beat him up?” His lip curled as Riddle shifted slightly in his seat. You struggled to remain still when he straightened up, rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward subtly. His magnetic eyes fixed you in place, you wouldn't have been able to move even if you wanted to. Riddle crooked his head slightly when you didn't retreat and his smile widened.

Finally, he averted his eyes to take a drag out of his cigarette before turning back to you, a prosaic expression on his face. “You want to know the reason I beat him up, princess?”

Mattheo felt drunk. The adrenaline of the fight still cursed through him, the thrill of inciting violence, make someone pay for his fucking life had him ride high. And now, here you were, in your little white nightdress, the embodiment of everything he couldn't have. Something good and pure. And Mattheo couldn't think straight, or rather, as all inebriation did, his filter had been discarded in favor how uncontrolled raging of thoughts. At the same time, he felt detached from himself and trapped in a too-intense dream. Mattheo was both wrecked and lifted. Too bad you had to stumble upon him when he was riding high with anxiety and elation.

“Yes,” you said, bringing him back to the present. A present in which you sat across from him, slightly shivering but looking him steadily in the eye nonetheless. Mattheo could have used legilimency on you to dig into your thoughts and see himself through your eyes, but he didn't. It felt more exciting to watch you, to try and pry you open until you exposed a part of yourself. “He was just there,” Mattheo answered honestly and observed your reaction. There barely was any. You showed neither repulsion nor intrigue, only a light frown adorned your face.

“That's all there is to it,” you said, but it was not a question, more of an assessment. An ironic chuckle left his lips. “That's the kind of guy I am, princess.”

Mattheo felt wild with something indiscernible when you leaned forward as well. Then, you did something so utterly strange and unpredictable it stole his breath away. Your hands came up to lay themselves upon the smooth surface of the table, you stabilized them against the wood, but still, they shook. Visibly. What in earth were you attempting to do here by showing him your weakness, putting your fear on full display? It was something Mattheo wouldn't have done even in his wildest dreams and his gaze lingered on your trembling hands. With an aimless motion, you turned them so the back of your hands lay upon the woods and your palms were exposed, as if you were awaiting a gift, or praying.

“Does that bother you?”

Through your strange action and direct tone, you had momentarily distracted him. Not a hard task, seeing as emotions and trains of thought flickered through him in uncontrolled speed. Almost feverish. Looking back at you, he contemplating your question. Only so long it wasn't to hasty, not long enough to be considered actual doubt. “No,” he lied and took another drag of his cigarette.

As Riddle blew out the smoke at you, you tried not to blink it away. Instead, you raised a skeptical eyebrow. Your eyes still locked on him, as if he'd pound on you if you broke contact, you pulled the tray of cooling muffins closer and took one out from among them. Over the table, you pushed it towards him as if you were offering him a peace treaty- or throwing him a rope in deep waters. “Take a muffin.”

He scoffed, flicking the burnt-out cigarette away. It glinted in the dark for a few seconds before molding into the background. “I don't want to eat muffins and talk about my feelings. I have no ambitions to be little miss perfect’s newest little social project.” The words were meant to rile you up, but you showed no reaction. “You can't do a lot of talking if you're eating,” you said bravely, “Can you?”

To your utter surprise, Riddle reached across the table and took the muffin. You watched as he discarded the cup and bit into the soft dough, somewhat anxious about whether he'd like it. But you didn't let any of that anxiety show on your face, putting on a mask of indifference. Now unoccupied once more, your hands started shaking again and you suppressed the urge to conceal them under the table. For a few seconds, you sat in silence as he ate. It was a strange sight to behold and you'd have liked to take a picture of it: Mattheo Riddle, covered in blood, eating one of your muffins.

Only when he's finished, Riddle spoke up again. “They're good.” Not expecting the compliment, your eyes widened and a traitorous little blush creeped onto your cheeks. To your fortune, the few floating candles weren't enough to illuminate your face properly. “Thank you,” you said, hoping that it didn't sound too timid.

Mattheo felt daring in his adrenaline induced state. As he watched you avert your eyes and your lips twitch, his irritation at your strangely endearing behavior surged within him. For a second, he wished nothing more than to fuck the good girl attitude out of you. Approach you here in the kitchen, get you talking, get you all soft and pliant for him to ruin your and your perfect little nightdress. Alas, he discarded the thought. So, Mattheo thought bitterly to himself, he at least seemed to possess a certain level of self-control. Even though you were testing it.

“Why are you here?” you asked him once you'd found your voice again and looked back at him. It was as if the tension in the air had subsided slightly, or rather, been resolved by another kind of suspense. He was no longer so dangerous. Instead of calculating fear, you felt yourself overcome with curiosity. Riddle raised his brows at you and you clarified. “In the kitchens at three in the morning, I mean. I reckon that's not a habit of yours.”

If only you knew how the kitchens were his place of retreat when nightmares chased after him even in his waking hours, when sleep would loom over him like a threat.

Riddle didn't answer, and it didn't surprise you. What you said next, however, did. Maybe it was the bruises and cuts on him, seeping with blood that collected in sat puddles on the table and stained his white, torn shirt. Maybe you did because you were tired, maybe the words had slipped past your lips out of exhaustion and a lack of concentration. Or maybe, it was the dim light, or, that you just wanted to tell somebody. Somebody who wouldn't fuss over you, someone who wouldn't worry. “I bake to relieve stress,” you shared hesitantly and your tone seemed to catch his attention. He was frowning, but you continued, watching your hands intently. They had stopped shaking.

“I don't usually come down here at night, today was an exception. I was just so stressed out over the extra coursework for McGonnagall. It's like I feel the need to make it up to her. You know, because I disappointed her. It's important to me that she likes me, or else I can't stand to sit before her and be the passive receiver of anything she may inflict upon me.”

A long silence followed this confession. No sound from outside managed to penetrate this level of the castle, so the only sound was yours and his breathing, that seemed to get louder with every second he showed no reaction. In order to do something, anything, you reached for a muffin to nibble on it. It was a good patch, your assessment had been correct. Almost shyly, you looked back at him, then quickly back to your muffin. Regret washed over you. What in God’s name had you been thinking? This would come to bite you in the ass later, you were sure of it. Until-

“Sometimes,” Riddle said slowly, weighing every word. “I need a solitary space to confide the monster that I am.” His raised chin indicated that he was waiting for you to recoil or advert your eyes, but you did neither.

“You think you're a monster?” you asked quietly, curiously. It was almost too natural, the way you leaned towards him over the table, your muffin long forgotten. It was as if the world had shrunken down to an empty kitchen and two people sitting across one another at a polished table. His dark eyes seemed to hide a whole world and intrigue pulled you towards it like moths to the light, like Icarus to the sun. Or maybe, you were just getting sappy.

Riddle chuckled dryly. “You don't?” The question sounded trivial, utterly meaningless, but you wouldn't be deterred by his indifference.

“What does it matter what I think?” Somehow, you found yourself whispering, as if the silence itself had ears.

His answer caught you off guard, simply because you'd never have expected these words to fall from Mattheo Riddle’s lips. “I don't know.” For a second, he almost seemed vulnerable, bathed in the warm, soft glow of the candles. Without you realizing it, they had hovered closer, and now, you could fully admire the bleeding cuts and bruises all over his face. You knew he didn't get them because he wasn't the superior fighter, he always was, you'd seen him fight countless times. It was because he didn't shield himself, he didn't bother with protecting himself, he only strived to inflict as much damage as possible. You couldn't imagine that Terry would have been able to lay a finger on him if Riddle hadn't aimed for it. In a way, whether he did or didn't know, he was punishing both his opponent and himself.

“Is that why you fight people?” you asked quietly. “Because you're a monster?” Riddle only shrugged, but you thought he'd grasped what you really wanted to ask by the way he looked upon your white-clad figure.

“Why are you talking to me?” he asked, but it was more curiosity than apprehension. You, little miss perfect, not fleeing from him as usual. No, you seemed to be rooted to your spot, and your eyes on him made it impossible for him to leave, to move. What if you were caught? What if, tomorrow, the whole school would know you'd spend the night with him in the kitchens. Oh, how ashamed you would be, how abashed, how humiliated. You'd turn from him in class, where your friends were watching, but in the forest, and now, here, you exposed yourself for him in a way that felt more intimate than if you'd taken off that little nightdress of yours. Your eyes were open, like welcoming gates, and it was unexpectedly disarming to look into them.

Mattheo had asked why you were talking to him, but in reality, he had wanted to ask a different question. Why were you kind? You seemed to handle your kindness as you did your muffins, handing it out without a thought to anyone. Why had you shown him your hands? Why had you told him about your stress? How could you be so unlike what he'd come to expect of people? Though it wasn't as if you didn't think about how you handed out your kindness, and it only made you more intriguing. You were smart, reflected, realistic and honest. And, you were dealing with weapons Mattheo had never learned how to fend off.

“Why not?” you asked after rolling his question around in your head. You kept a close eye on him as his brows shot up and sighed. “Why am I talking to you? Well, I suppose because I am in a room with you.”

Your bluntness took him off guard. It was a perfectly simple answer that would have sufficed with anyone. But he wasn't just anyone. Or was he? When had the rules applied to others ever applied to him in the same way? He looked into your eyes and saw no lie. You might have been afraid, or cautious, but he knew that, in this moment, you saw him as human. Just as human as any student who might have stumbled upon you and your muffins.

For the first time this night, you glanced at the large grandfather clock in one corner of them room. As if you'd overcome the fear that he'd jump you unexpectedly if you didn't keep your eyes on him. A small, almost apologetic smile tugged at your lips as you rise from your seat. “I better get going, it's a long way up to Gryffindor tower.”

Right. Mattheo had almost forgotten the rest of the world, and he hadn't missed it. But for the first time, he felt like solitude in this kitchen would feel empty and meaningless, without you. So he rose from the bench as well and watched as you wrapped the muffins in a large handkerchief and placed them on one of the tables. Suddenly, you halted your movement and glanced up at him, as if you'd remembered something important. You pulled another handkerchief from one of the drawers, picked out a handful of muffins and wrapped them into a smaller bundle. Mattheo didn't realize you intended it for him until you extended your hand towards him.

“You can just tell your friends you stole them from me,” you said easily and gave him a hesitant smile. “I'll make sure to glare extra hard at you tomorrow.”

Without a word, he took the bundle. It was weird. Now, it felt like the two of you shared a secret. The unspoken agreement to tell nobody of this meeting hovered in the air between you, and you gave him a small nod he felt tempted to return. But then, you turned away, and the words stumbled from his lips like outstretched claws trying to keep you inside this already special memory for another few seconds. Mattheo hated how desperate he felt for this one moment, but he couldn't deny it. “Bold of you to think I'd share these with my friends.”

You laughed, and it stirred something inside him. The sound sobered him up, to the reality that you were supposed to hate him, and he was supposed to hate you for it, for being as unforgiving as the rest of the world. But you didn't seem to hate him. When you laughed, Mattheo found himself questioning whether you could hate at all. You seemed like someone who'd been loved all her life.

“Are you not taking these with you?” he asked finally, indicating the larger bundle of muffins on one of the tables. Shaking your head, you opened the portrait to leave, but kept your eyes on him. “They're for the house elves.” Then, you were gone.

Over the next week, Mattheo found himself looking for you in crowds, on the Gryffindor table at mealtimes and started noticing things about you in class. The way you'd absorb all that the teachers said, the way the ink would spill over your fingers as you scribbled down notes, the way you laughed with your friends, but never too loud. How you'd sometimes be so deep in thought you didn't even register the end of class. Mattheo noticed the way you seemed exhausted and burned out at dinner but still found it in you to laugh with your friends.

At the same time, excitement in the castle was rising approaching the weekend when the first quidditch game of the season, Gryffindor vs Slytherin, would take place. The usual brawls and hexing between students of the two houses caused smaller uproars every other day, but, for the first time in his time at Hogwarts, Mattheo found himself preoccupied. You drew him in like a magnet, making him suddenly show up to classes on time to watch you, get the chance to finally understand what it was that had him so distracted with you. He hated the way he couldn't seem to get away from you, but he couldn't resist it.

You, too, found yourself strangely preoccupied with looking for Mattheo Riddle in crowds or in class. You hadn't mentioned the late night encounter to your friends, and part of you was starting to believe it might have been a product of your imagination, your exhausted, sleep-deprived mind playing tricks on you, a confusion of dream and reality. But just when you had almost convinced yourself, you were proven wrong on the Thursday before the big match, sitting in the library and hovering over a book as you absentmindedly chewed on your quill. Just when you thought your eyelids would simply drop, his voice pulled you out of your haze.

“Careful there, princess, you'll run out of quills before you can finish all these notes.”

Startled, your head shot up, and there he was. Riddle leaned casually against the table you occupied, hands in the pockets of his trousers and a subtle smirk on his lips as he looked down on you. For once, his shirt was unstained, which took you off guard more than anything. Until you realized the situation you were in. Quickly, you pulled the quill away and sat up a little straighter. “I wasn't-” you hesitated. “Wait, what are you even doing here?”

Riddle raised his brows until they almost disappeared behind his dark curly hair that fell into his face. “The library’s public. Though I didn't expect to be this entertained while I was here." He was grinning again and pulled out the chair opposite you for himself. You watched him sit down before you and lean back in his chair, gaze fixed upon you. “Well, princess,” he indicated the books with a nod, “Planning your next adventure breaking curfew, or is this one strictly academic?”

Now, it was your turn to raise your brows, though you couldn't suppress the smallest smile. It had been real, you now knew it had been real all along. “Unlike you, I actually like to study.”

Riddle leaned forwards a bit, propping his elbows up on his legs and resting his chin on his fist. Though the movement was casual, his gaze was anything but. It was still magnetizing, but it no longer held the explosive, uncontrollable heat as it had the night you'd offered him a muffin in the kitchens. “Who says I don't like to study?” He asked and his pleasant smile almost fooled you into buying into his nonchalance. “I'm learning a lot at the moment.”

Over your book, you threw him a quick glance. “About what?”

“You,” he said simply, still with that casual smirk on his face. For a few seconds, you were simply irritated. Then, it dawned on you that Mattheo Riddle had just flirted with you. Blinking perplexedly, you stuttered out an incoherent response and cursed yourself for being so quick to fall into his traps. Clearly, he was using his charm to get one over on you, establish himself as the one in control. But you would no longer be his little plaything- not after you'd seen a small glimpse of the real him that night in the kitchens. No, you were determined not to let him push you around.

But before you could shoot back, someone tapped your shoulder shakily and you turned in your seat, momentarily distracted from Mattheo. It was Neville, who cast nervous glances at Riddle before quickly looking away, afraid he might meet his eye. When you cleared your throat and smiled at him, his eyes snapped back to you and he seemed to find his voice. “Hey, uhm… thanks again for your work on that potions assignment, I just received an E and I could’ve never done it without you.” He seemed a bit breathless and stepped from one foot to the other nervously.

“An E?” you repeated, momentarily forgetting all about Riddle. “Wow, Neville, that's amazing!” He thanked you brightly before scurrying off with one last, terrified look at Riddle. When you turned back to him, you smiled a little abashedly. To your surprise, he returned your small smile, eyes glinting. “You're really wasting your talents in Gryffindor, you know that?”

You wanted to glare at him, but you couldn't suppress a light grin at his words. “And what would I do, say, in Slytherin, Riddle? Hex people just for fun?”

“Mattheo.”

Taken aback, you blinked at him and his lip curled into a grin. “Call me Mattheo.” You hesitated for a second. The silly thought that you might not be able to say his name popped into your head, the irrational fear that you'd pronounce it wrong. So you only nodded and began packing your books to get them back to their shelves. It was already dark outside and the library was deserted as the time on the clock was approaching curfew.

When you rose from your seat, Riddle did, too, watching as you heaved the stack of books into your arms. For a few seconds, he watched you struggle to stabilize the weight, then, the weight was suddenly lifted from your arms as he got hold of the books. Your perplexion was met with a wink. “So, where are these going, princess?”

You motioned for him to follow you and, in silence, you moved through the rows of shelves, the stack of books growing smaller by the minute. When only one of them was left, you finally broke the silence. You turned to him, and your breath hitched at his proximity. Behind you the bookshelves, you refused the retreat or avert your eyes. Instead, you held out your hand while steadily looking into his eyes. “That one’s mine, I'll be taking that.”

But he didn't give it to you. You were faintly reminded of your days in primary school when the boys would hold your books over your head to tease you. Mattheo didn't hold it over your head, but reaching out and taking it from him seemed just as impossible as jumping iowards to grab your books back when you were younger had been. Instead of following your request, he made the smallest step forward. Placing the book on a nearby table, his arms came up to cage you against the bookshelves as his eyes glimmered in the dark like the embers of his cigarettes. The clock struck, it was officially past curfew now.

“What the hell is it about you?” Mattheo murmured through clenched teeth, his eyes raking over your features. He seemed to be talking to himself more than you. Only now did you realize how much taller than you he was. His figure loomed over you, but as he placed his elbows on the shelf, he dipped his head down, until it was only inches away from you. Still, you made no attempt to step back. Lifting your chin, you met his gaze and a nervous coil tightened in your stomach.

“What's it about?” he whispered, not taking his eyes off of you. “Your book.” His voice may have been hushed, but it rumbled softly in a way that made heat rush into your cheeks.

“It's an old mythological story,” you breathed, as if you were telling him a secret. “About a ten year long war. One of the parties kidnapped the most beautiful woman alive, Helen, from the other, and they fought a decade over her. The book tells the last days of said war.”

“A decade,” he murmured, and as he spoke, you could feel the exhale of his breath fanning over your face. Was he trying to intimidate you? If yes, he was doing a bad job. You were more excited than anything. Whispering with the enemy between bookshelves after curfew- the list of forbidden things you were doing sent an unknown thrill through your insides. “What the hell was the deal about fucking Helen?”

“Don't know,” you answered, feeling the books against the back of your head when you angled it up to get a better look at him in the dark. “But in some myths, she's described to be the daughter of nemesis, the Greek goddess of retribution for the sin of hubris. Funny, huh?”

You didn't even know what you were saying anymore, and Mattheo smiled lightly as if he knew exactly what was going on inside your head. Which you didn't doubt for a second, given his rumored legilimency skills. “Hm,” he hummed, looking down on you with an indiscernible glint in his dark brown eyes. “This here is quite hubristic, isn't it? Someone like me talking to someone like you.”

You frowned, head quite dizzy from his proximity. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His heavy gaze on you made you feel as if you were standing under a stage light instead of a dark library. For a quick, crazy moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he only dipped down further to bring his hand to your neck. It felt rough and calloused, undoubtedly from being smashed into someone’s jaw every other week. Mattheo watched it against your bare neck with an odd expression, not unlike awe. When your brearth hitched in your throat, his eyes snapped back up at you.

“IT IS PAST CURFEW!”

The both of you broke apart so hastily you stumbled against the opposite bookshelve. The cutting voice of Madame Prince had rung through the library, and now, you spotted her figure a few shelves away, approaching you quickly with a lantern in her hand. Frozen in place, terror washed over you, when suddenly, you're were yanked backwards. You had to stumble along as Mattheo started to run, dashing past bookshelves and pulling you with him. To your utter incomprehension, he was laughing madly as he ushered you out of the library and down the next corridor.

“We can't run from a teacher, Mattheo!” you cried in a panicked voice as you rounded a corner and dashed up a staircase. But Riddle only looked over his shoulder with a teasing grin and winked at you. “I love the way you say my name, princess!”

Past the windows and classroom doors, up the stairs and along corridors you flew, your hand tightly clasped in his. Only his relentless pull still kept you going as you gasped for breath, but Mattheo seemed completely unbothered, still giggling like a maniac. It suddenly dawned on you that this might be the happiest you had ever seen Mattheo Riddle, and the thought elicited a small giggle even from you. The situation was just so absurd. Never once would you have pictured being dragged through the Hogwarts corridors by Mattheo Riddle on the run from a teacher, all the while giggling like school children. This had to be one of those crazy dreams you forgot five seconds after waking up. But you didn't want to forget, and, in all honesty, you didn't want to wake up either.

Finally, when your legs felt like they were about to collapse and your lungs screamed for air, Mattheo slowed down and you slumped against a wall, sliding down against it until you were sitting on the ground and heaving for breath. He seemed almost giddy with adrenaline as he rocked on the balls of his feet in front of you, letting out a breathless chuckle. “Now, this is what I call a Thursday night!”

“If you say so,” you replied breathlessly and held your side. Only now did you spare a second glance at your surroundings and your eyes widened. “We’re at Gryffindor tower?” This was the corridor before the one with the portrait of the fat lady that marked the entrance to your common room, you recognized it even in the dark.

“Didn't quite trust you to find your way back in your state, princess,” he grinned teasingly, but he didn't sound malicious at all. His teasing had lost its sharp edge somewhat.

When you finally managed to establish a stable breathing pattern, you got to your feet and dusted off your robes to have something to do with your hands. “Good night,” you said softly and he flashed you a grin.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

The Friday was buzzing with electricity as it was the day before Saturday's quidditch game. But you only had half a mind for the general excitement, occasional brawls and Harry and Ron’s quidditch talk, because you were still dwelling in the memories of last night. Even hours later, you could still feel his hand on your neck like that of a ghost, could recall the sound of his hushed baritone and the look in his eyes. Maybe he transformed into another creature at night, one of allure and intrigue. But, who were you kidding. It had been him, and now, in the daylight, you struggled to reconcile your friends' and your previous perception of him with the man you'd come to know after curfew.

“Hello? Earth to y/n!” Ron waved his hand in front of your eyes and you snapped out of your daze. It was the last lesson before lunch, potions with Professor Slughorn, and the chatter and clatter of students enabled you to talk in class when you usually couldn't. But it also meant you didn't have an excuse for staring into space. “Being distracted in class is my job,” Ron grinned, “You can't just steal my job, or Slughorn will notice how bad I am at potions!”

With a little laugh, you looked after the potion and stirred it around. It had the desirable color already, but you pretended to be busying yourself with the fire to throw a quick glance around the classroom. Mattheo sat in one of the corners next to Nott, they seemed to be engaged in conversation. Their potion had the described color as well. You watched them from behind the cauldron. Nott was frowning deeply and seemed to be attacking his friend with a string of questions. Mattheo looked annoyed, but then, he caught your eye and his lips twitched. Quickly, you got to your feet again and avoided to look in his direction, therefore missing Nott’s suspicious look.

“Hey, I think we're finished,” Ron spoke up, flipping through the pages of your potions book. “It's got the right color and everything!”

“Yeah, I think you're right,” you smiled absentmindedly and Ron frowned. With a thud, he closed the book and leaned over the table towards you. “Are you… okay?” Taken aback, you focused your attention on him and missed the way Mattheo’s eyes narrowed as your ginger friend. “What do you mean?”

“You've been… I don't know, a little distracted lately,” said Ron uncomfortably. “Ever since that dada lesson, you know?”

“Right,” you mumbled under your breath and gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “I'm fine, really, I just need to get more sleep.” That was not a lie. Your nights worth of curfew breaking only added to the exhaustion you felt from the nights you spent studying in the common room when everyone else had already left.

Ron glanced towards the corner of the room you had found your attention drawn to as well and leaned in even closer, lowering his voice to a murmur. “He's not threatening you or anythin’, is he?” he asked, “Riddle, I mean.”

His question surprised you so much you were stunned to silence, and when you opened your mouth to reply, a large shadow fell upon the two of you. “Ah, quite lovely,” smiled Slughorn fatherly as he inspected your potion. “Very well indeed, but I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Miss y/n.” He didn't acknowledge Ron in the slightest, but gave you ten points for Gryffindor and moved on to the next table.

You noticed that he avoided Mattheo’s table, even though they were finished already. You remembered the rumors about your professor and Voldemort, that he'd been part of his Slugclub, and how Slughorn had been hiding from him ever since he was resurrected. You wondered what it had to be like, to be treated like an undesirable addition to his father’s horrors not only by the student body but also by his teacher. By you also. You had to recognize it. Though it was not as if you didn't have any reason to. Who would Mattheo have turned into if students and teachers alike hadn't already shaped a path for him that was so self-destructive?

Ten minutes later, Slughorn dismissed the class. Ron grabbed his bag with the words “I'm so hungry I'm gonna die” and lunged himself at the door before anyone else could. That left you to swipe the table clean and bottle up the potion for Slughorn. Hermoine had already taken off after Ron, but Harry waited for you by the door as you packed up your things and turned around, only to run into a solid obstacle. Stumbling back a few feet, you looked up to see Mattheo grinning at you. “Oops.” Behind him, Nott rolled his eyes.

Before Harry could come over and start a brawl, you brushed past Mattheo with a “no worries”, but he got a hold of your wrist and turned you around. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Harry shuffling closer. “Will you be at the game tomorrow, princess?”

“Of course,” you answered, unable to hide your smile. “Cheering for Gryffindor.”

“Naturally,” he said and his thumb brushed over your wrist where your pulse was. “I'll se you there, then.” And with a wink, he pushed past Harry and followed Nott out of the classroom. Once he'd departed, you met Harry’s eyes, and saw his raised brows.

“So, what was that about?” Harry asked as you climbed the steps up to the Great Hall. As you were quite late for lunch, no one crossed your path who might have listened to your conversation, so he didn't bother to hush his voice. There was a subtle frown on his face and you felt his eyes on you from beside you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, playing dumb, and he gave you a you’re-perfectly-aware kind of look. With a shrug, you picked at your shirt. You weren't prepared for this conversation.

“I've heard… rumors,” said Harry carefully and you whipped your head around. “Nothing like that!” he clarified hastily and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just… some portraits said they'd seen you leave the library together yesterday after curfew. And, I don't know if you've noticed, but Riddle has been staring at you all the time for the last week. Ever since you had detention with him.”

“What?” you said, taken aback, because you hadn't really noticed any change in his demeanor outside of your nightly encounters. Harry shrugged. “At the start I thought he was staring at me, you know? But he's been looking at you in class, also. And, like, constantly.” He looked worried. “Is there anything…?”

“I'm not- we're not- I’d never-”, you spluttered out, but Harry gave you a reassuring smile. “I get it, just wanted to make sure.”

“I'm sorry,” you said, biting your lips and staring at your feet. “I've been talking to him a few times since the detention and… well…,” you were grappling with accurate words to describe how you felt about Mattheo Riddle. Because you would lie if you said you planned to stay away from him. “We're not friends,” you told him quickly, “I still hate his guts, and I know you and him have this enmity-”

“Really, y/n, you don't have to defend yourself or anything,” Harry assured you. “You're not betraying our friendship or Gryffindor or whatever by talking to Riddle.” His lip twitched slightly. “No matter what Ron might tell you.”

“Oh God,” you groaned as you reached the foyer and emerged from the dungeon staircase. “Does everyone know?”

“No,” Harry said quickly and gave you a reassuring smile. “We're just all worried. He's bad news. You know that. And, especially given your parents, he’s also dangerous.” Ah, yes. Your parents. But the news of your muggle heritage hadn't seemed to deter Mattheo, nor had he showed any aggression towards you. But, you thought to yourself determinedly as you walked through the doors over to the bustling Gryffindor table, if these meetings were to continue, you'd have to bring it up eventually, test his reaction.

“Hey,” Harry stopped you before you could reach the others and you turned to him. “I'm sorry if we're being too pushy with this,” he said seriously, “but you really should stay away from him. Come on.” With a little smile, he opened his arms and you hugged him tightly, wondering what he would say if he knew that you were already on first name basis with Mattheo.

Mattheo's hand tightened around his goblet as he watched you over at the Gryffindor table, your arms wrapped around Potter in a tight hug. His jaw ticked involuntarily, the sharp annoyance flaring up before he even had the chance to smother it. He told himself it was ridiculous, you and him weren't exactly anything, just a handful of late night talks that shouldn't have happened in the first place. But something about seeing you with him, with fucking Potter of all people, seeing you smile at him, made his stomach twist in ways he didn't want to think about. Potters hand rested comfortably on your back, and Mattheo's scowl deepened, his gaze darting away as if that would somehow help.

He attempted to focus on the conversation at his own table, nodding absently as Blaise said something that earned a round of chuckles from his friends, but the sound barely reached him. His mind was stubborn, circling back to the sight of you with Potter. He didn't have the right to be annoyed- he knew that- but the irritation was there all the same, coiling in his chest like a restless serpent. A part of him wanted to march over there, grab Potter and smash his face into the fucking wall for touching what was his- but you weren't. You weren't his, and your reaction if he attacked Potter right on front of you was enough for him to bury the idea. Instead, he forced forced his gaze back to his plate, his appetite gone, and told himself he didn’t care. But deep down, the jealousy burned, leaving a bitter taste that even the sweetest wine couldn’t wash away. Only you could, but you were unreachable. In more ways than one.

taglist: @aespaslut @kricketwritesstories @catching-fire-in-the-wind @a-little-funny @thejediprincess56 @polireader @voidangxls @artsyle @nkvgt @ashrocker123 @chimchoom @onlytenkos @yvonne-dump @alwayslatetothefandoms

[fastandcarlos]

Biggest Fan : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: lando had never expected to fall in love when he was invited to visit psg…that was until he met you

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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 849,302 others

landonorris: pretending to know what I’m doing 😂 thank you psg for inviting me to watch a game tonight - I loved it ⚽️

73,940 comments

username1: new signing when???

username2: I love that he went to watch the women, I heard he even stayed around to meet the players after too

danielricciardo: not you pretending to be good at another sport

landonorris: @/danielricciardo idk what you’re talking about, ronaldo is quaking in his boots 😂

username3: nobody show this photo to manchester united

oscarpiastri: so this is why you refused to have dinner with me tonight 🙄

username4: footballer lando was an aesthetic I did not prepare myself for

georgerussell63: personally very offended you didn’t invite me to come and enjoy this with you

logansargeant: I thought I taught you better than this…this is what we call soccer 🤦🏼‍♂️

landonorris: @/logansargeant get in the bin 🗑️

username5: I play football too, come and see me play instead 😂

ynusername: thank you for stopping by and seeing us, we had a great time meeting you and learning a bit more about formula 1 ☺️

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liked by ybffusername, jackie_groenen_14 and 482,050 others

ynusername: quick getaway during the winter break ⛷️❤️

39,583 comments

username6: wait what whose the guy

username7: since when has y/n been in the dating game wtf

ybffusername: excuse me missus, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do

grace_geyoro: you said you were going on a solo ski holiday 🙄

ynusername: @/grace_geyoro whoops 💁🏻‍♀️

landonorris: the question is…are you as good a skier as you are footballer?

ynusername: @/landonorris I’m a woman of many talents 😂

username8: are we watching lando norris shoot his shot with the y/n y/l/n right now

username9: peep how y/n was the only player he followed after visiting psg

username10: can’t be the only thinking they’d make a pretty hot couple 🔥

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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 382,493 others

ynusername: thought I’d repay the favour and see what f1 is really about, thank you for a great day mclaren!! ps am i a papaya girl now?? 🏎️🧡

48,596 comments

mclaren: you’re welcome back anytime y/n 🧡🏎️

username11: how do you look better in papaya than in red and blue 😭

username12: the photo of lando’s garage too 🤔

oscarpiastri: it was lovely to meet you, make sure you come back and visit us soon!!

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri give me a date and time and I’ll be there…I had a blast!!

username13: has lando managed to turn y/n into an f1 girlie?? 😂

landonorris: definitely think you should stick to kicking a football around 😂

ynusername: @/landonorris I’d have been able to drive the car if I didn’t have such a rubbish teacher 👀

username14: something is brewing…trust me

georgerussell63: the mercedes garage is always open fyi 😂

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 lando told me to tell you I’m a mclaren girl now

username15: omg lando told y/n what to say

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liked by username16, f1source101 and 3,593 others

f1wags: rumour has it around the paddock that y/n and lando aren’t just winning on the pitch and in the car but off them two. our sources have told us that the duo have been spotted throughout the weekend looking very close with each other. maybe not so much friends after all?

695 comments

username17: my heart won’t ha able to take it if these two start dating

username18: officially now my only otp

username19: lando has seemed to be a lot happier recently ☺️

username20: pls don’t break my heart like this lando

username21: they both deserve happiness!! we need confirmation asap

username22: I’ve never shipped two people harder

username23: apparently they were all over each other most of the weekend 🥰

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liked by psg_feminines, oscarpiastri and 439,103 others

ynusername: huge win in lyon tonight, so proud to be part of this time ❤️💙

38,594 comments

psg_feminines: two goals and an assist…you’re our superstar y/n!

username24: yay y/n!! man of the match for sure tonight!

landonorris: huge win!! smashed it legend 💙❤️

ynusername: @/landonorris I didn’t realise you were watching 🥺

landonorris: @/ynusername ofc I never miss a match ⚽️

username25: it’s not fair how one person can look so good on the football field

oscarpiastri: can confirm that lando was glued to the screen for the entire match 😂

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri I’m so sorry you had to sit through it 😬

username26: lando’s so busy and yet he made time to cheer for y/n

username27: can you two just date…forever??

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liked by landonorris, ybffusername and 593,054 others

ynusername: a well deserved weekend off, with some pretty cool company too 🌊🤍

73,842 comments

username28: LANDO LANDO LANDO AODLDQML

username29: damn I knew it

ybffusername: you’ve got to be kidding me right now omg

username30: my heart has never beated so fast in my life

landonorris: look at you all sunkissed and relaxed 🔥

ynusername: @/landonorris it’s amazing what a holiday - and pretty fun company - can do 🥺

username31: this is everything!!

danielricciardo: I’m guessing my invite just got lost in the post 😔

alex_albon: look at you two 😘☺️

username32: my two favourite people in the world

username33: oh to be on a beach with lando norris

oscarpiastri: make sure you bring him back in one piece y/n

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri 🫡🫡🫡

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liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 583,506 others

ynusername: always an honour to wear the badge of my country, a great weekend of internationals before heading back to paris! merci ⚽️🏆

69,293 comments

landonorris: so glad I could be there to watch 🥺🥰

username34: lando was there that’s so sweet

username35: notice all of lando’s friends in the likes, they adore y/n too

username36: people on social media are saying how loud lando was all night long

username37: @/username36 I was there…he didn’t stop cheering every time y/n touched the ball ☺️

alex_albon: who knew watching football could be so fun 😂

oscarpiastri: even without lando I tuned in…what have you done to me y/n??

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you’re so sweet, thank you 🥺

username38: y/n has been playing out of this world since she started talking to lando

username39: world cup incoming surely!!

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liked by ynusername, maxverstappen1 and 904,843 others

landonorris: adventuring with my favourite person ❤️💙

104,382 comments

georgerussell63: we get it okay, you’re not single anymore 😂

landonorris: @/georgerussell63 now you know how I’ve felt for all these years

ynusername: I had the best time with you!! thank you for being the best taxi driver 💕

landonorris: @/ynusername it’s an easy job with you as passenger princess

username40: you cannot convince me that these two aren’t just the cutest couple in the world

username41: being driven by lando is the dream, y/n is so lucky damn

danielricciardo: looks like a great adventure!! 🤩

maxverstappen1: love seeing you so happy brother ❤️

username42: wherever they are, I want to go

username43: still managing to get the papaya in too 😂🧡

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liked by psg_feminines, oscarpiastri and 1,392,906 others

landonorris: champions league final ⚽️ so proud of you and the team my love for getting this far - you’re amazing!! 💙❤️

104,593 comments

alex_albon: good luck y/n, we’re rooting for you!!

oscarpiastri: lily is disapproving but I’m watching too, go y/n go!

georgerussell63: cannot wait to see you at the next race with that winners medal round your neck!

danielricciardo: ik nothing about football but hoping you win y/n ❤️

maxverstappen1: just remember to do what I don’t, aim at the goal 😂 you can do it y/n!

lewishamilton: no doubt in you y/n…victory is yours!!

mclaren: everyone at the mtc is rooting for you y/n 🧡🧡🧡

logansargeant: good luck on the soccer field y/n 🏆

lance_stroll: idk what the champions league is, but judging from your suit I’m guessing it’s serious - good luck y/n

carlossainz55: seeing as madrid aren’t playing I guess I can cheer for psg just for tonight 😂

charles_leclerc: allez y/n allez psg

ynusername: thank you for always supporting me - and everyone else too ❤️💙⚽️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 593,604 others

ynusername: winning on the field and off the field these days - ily lando 🩷💕

58,704 others

landonorris: if anyone is winning, it’s definitely me 😂 thank you for choosing me 🧡❤️💙

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[assassin-artist]

Eleanor Grayson's hero outfits, part 1. I'd like to make a lineup of a handful of alternate universe variants, but for now here's her normal fits and 1 AU (:

Extra information about each of them (and her in general) under the cut:

Suit 1 - Nolan took Ellie and Mark both to Art's shop to get their first hero suits after their powers emerge, and of course them being twins means Art wanted to make them matching suits - knee high boots, fingerless gloves, the same goggle mask and everything. Considering the public knew that Omni-Man and Invincible were father and son, I think they'd also know that Invincible and Mercy were twins, so their similar suits were like marketing to their image as the duo heroes. The white line on her chest is a stylized "M" for her hero name, Mercy. Eleanor does NOT like the skintight suit, she gets self-conscious about it, but she thinks there's no avoiding it (since so many heroes wear them) so she doesn't bring up how uncomfortable it makes her. When she goes home she throws on a random jacket from her closet - it was not made to be part of a hero uniform, so it's getting torn apart like 5 seconds into any battle. Very funny mental image of Eleanor going to a normal clothing shop and bulk buying like 20 of the same exact jacket bc once she wore it for the first time she went "welp it's part of my image now, I have to keep wearing it".

Ellie and Mark at this point are inseparable. They're the typical close twins who do everything together, growing up sharing everything and doing all the same after school activities and such. Them getting their powers at roughly the same time (Ellie got hers first but only by, like, a week maybe) just made them closer, as they delve into the world of being a hero together with their loving father (:

Suit 2 - Art probably sees her jacket addition when she's on the news with Invincible, and he immediately goes "hey, wait a sec..." so she comes clean about how uncomfortable the tights make her. He wishes she'd told him the first time, but he takes it in stride and makes her a new suit right away with a skirt at her request. He thinks about adding a jacket to it too, but at that point she kind of got used to not having it (since the normal jacket broke so often) so she said it was fine actually. The skirt addition was pretty much immediate, so it wasn't too big of a shift from suit 1 to suit 2.

Ellie moves out of the house at this point (thanks to a nice GDA paycheck. She wanted to move out ASAP because she can't stand being in the house that reminds her of her father, as opposed to Mark staying to support their mother). Her and Mark's relationship is a bit strained from general hero troubles and of course the trauma of their father's leaving, but mostly they're still pretty close so they still market themselves as the twin heroes, fighting together and generally being inseparable to the public eye.

Suit 3 - her current outfit as of season 3 of the show. A lot of shit happens in between suit 2 and suit 3, and Mark and Ellie wind up separating. Firstly because of their strong disagreement about their father - Mark went to Thraxa alone (Ellie chose to stay on Earth while he left) and came back with the mentality that their father is changed man who needs their help. Ellie, however, heard that the Viltrumites took him away to be executed, and only says "Good". She can never forgive him, and it stresses out their relationship. Secondly, while both of the twins were horrified about finding D.A. and Darkwing in Cecil's payroll, Ellie decided that it wasn't a dealbreaker for her. She opposed it the same as Mark did, but she still thinks that working for Cecil is the best way for her to be where she needs to be to help people and save the world. This decision tears the twins apart almost completely. At this point, they both get outfit changes - Mark keeps his suit design but changes the colors (which are ironically black and blue like Mercy's original suit colors), while Ellie decides to completely overhaul her uniform entirely. New design, new jacket, new color scheme. Neither of them want to be associated with each other anymore, so they avoid the "twin heroes" moniker at this point. Also I like the red on the underside of her gloves and her boots because it looks like blood. Her bloody path, her bloody hands.

My friend chose this color scheme for me, and I just wanna say the colors are picked from show Cecil's outfit (: to showcase her being a loyal GDA agent at this point even after what she learns about him. The red line going down her jacket is meant to represent Cecil's red tie.. heh.... I like Cecil a lot, sorry I had to give her a suit based off of him lmfao

"Bad End" AU Suit - just want to make it clear, this is an AU and not her canon future. Ellie's love of Earth and humanity is her most defining character trait. She'll do anything she thinks is necessary to protect them - which is one of the biggest reasons that she's still willing to work with Cecil after the reveal, because she understands that sometimes you need to do bad things to save as many people as possible. In this AU, shortly after the Invincible War, she looks around at all the death and destruction and realizes there's no point in fighting against the Viltrumites. She comes to the conclusion that there's no way to win against them - that the only way to save the planet and people she loves is to join them and plead for their survival from the inside of the empire. Mark, exhausted and angry and full of the typical Viltrumite violent temper after the war, can't even bring himself to hold back against the betrayal from his own sister. They fight for a while, equally matched, before Ellie realizes their fight is just bringing more pain and destruction to the world that she's trying to save. So she leaves the planet to join the Empire, but not before Mark manages to give her a very nasty face wound that'll leave her with a permanent reminder of what she chose to do.

She's too attached to her 3rd suit because it's a reminder of what she was trying to protect, so she refuses to wear the typical Viltrumite uniform. Since there's some variation in their uniforms anyway, I think they'd be fine with the suit as long as she wore it in the Viltrum Empire colors, so she has it remade with the colors and symbol.

The next time BE!Mercy sees Cecil, he calls her a traitor to her own people - but she just frowns and says "Aren't we doing the same thing? Making a deal with the devil to save this world?"

She learned it from him, after all.

[yeonzzzn]

HIIIIII I've been thinking a lot these last few days.... heeseung being an angel (could be a fallen angel or something) falling in love with a mortal, but they can't be together because angels and human beings together are completely prohibited... a totally hot and forbidden love

— 🐇💨

I am so in love with this concept. the minute this popped up in my askbox I knew I had to write it asap. I apologize for this being so long idk what happened my fingers just wouldn’t stop typing.

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

fallen angel: lee heeseung

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader word count: 7.6k

Heeseung never sinned. Ever. Never once said anything bad about anyone, never once cursed, never once gossiped, kept his emotions in check, never had a single terrible thought about someone else, never committed any crimes, and always—always—had a pure heart. 

That was until you. 

Heeseung was God's most prized angel. He did anything and everything that was asked of him. Never once defying God’s wishes or commands. His pure heart is the whole reason that when he well, died, he was the first one selected to be God’s second hand. Heeseung lived his whole life dedicated to his church and doing nothing but good. 

But you? Oh, you. You were the first temptation Heeseung ever got. 

“I have a job for you, my angel,” God spoke to him. 

Heeseung knelt down on one knee with one hand over his chest, bowing his head, “Anything for you, my savior.” 

“We have a family that needs a blessing, a pure angel to take away their worries. They are struggling hard. Go down to land and help this family. I trust you with this one, Heeseung. Please.” 

Heeseung didn’t hesitate. Nodding and accepting the job God had to offer him. 

Heeseung stretched his wings, preparing for his flight down to the mortal lands. The trip didn’t take long and the minute the tips of his shoes touched solid land, his whole outfit changed and his wings were hidden. From the bright white robes and dress shoes to tanned brown boots, light blue jeans, and a black button-up dress shirt. It was one of Heeseung’s favorite outfits to wear when he came to the mortal lands. 

He looked around the city he landed in, watching as the mortals passed by him and crossed over the street. The sounds of cars honking and people yelling filled his ears along with the smells of the city. Heeseung smiled, remembering his time as a mortal and seeing how much had changed over the thousand years he’d been away. 

Pushing away the memories of the past, Heeseung starts his walk in the direction God told him this family would be. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, smiling brightly as he walked past the mortals, none of them paying him any mind as they went about their normal lives. 

“Fuck!” 

Heeseung chuckled at the curse, shaking his head. He wasn’t used to hearing such vulgar language. His eyes searched the sea of people around him to see where I came from, his curiosity taking over him. 

You were running down the street, hairtye in your mouth as you pulled back your long hair back into a ponytail, quickly pulling the band from your mouth and twisting it in your hair. With how you were rushing, Heeseung knew you were the one he heard the curse come from. You looked down at your watch, letting more curses escape your lips, “I am going to be so fucking late! Holy fucking shit.” 

Heeseung raised his brows at the language, “Jeez…mortals never change.” He wasn’t judging, he understood life as a mortal wasn’t the easiest and everyone had their roles to play. It wasn’t his job to judge anyway, he left that up to God. 

But you kept pushing along, pulling your phone from your pocket and dialing a number, “Pick up, please for the love of fucking God pick up!” 

You were so focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t even realize you ran into Heeseung, smacking your shoulder into his. Heeseung didn’t move an inch at your touch, but you nearly fell to your knees. Heeseung stopped to face you, making sure you were okay but seeing you catch your balance before tumbling over, looking back over your shoulder and snarling at him, “Asshole…” you mumbled under your breath as you still pushed along down the street. 

Heeseung blankly stared at you then shoved his hands back in his pockets and continued to his destination, saying a small prayer for you. 

It didn’t take much longer for Heeseung to reach the small house right outside the city. He took a deep breath and smiled wide, knocking on the door. 

A man opened the door, his eyes puffy and red from crying and now full of confusion looking at Heeseung, “Can I help you?” 

Heeseung smiled even more, “I am here to help you.” 

The man gave him an even more confused look, “Excuse me?” 

A small cough could be heard within the house and soft sobs followed after it. 

Heeseung peeked into the house, “Your child, they’re sick,” the man looked down to the ground, putting his lips into a thin line, “I can help. I was sent here to do so.” 

The man flicked his eyes back up at Heeseung, studying him, “Are you the angel we asked God to send?” 

Heeseung gently nodded. 

He was led into the home and to their child’s bedroom. The mother was hovering over her child, who looked to be about eight. His eyes were tightly closed and his breathing was uneven. He was going to die soon, Heeseung could sense it, could see it. The poor boy still had so much life left to live, and that’s why God sent Heeseung here. To heal this child. 

Heeseung placed a gentle hand on the mother, her pleading eyes staring up at him. Once she realized who he was, she reached for his hand, “Dear angel, save my baby boy.” 

Heeseung held her hand tight and nodded. With his free hand, he placed it against the boy's chest, sending a small ounce of healing power to him, reciting a prayer. The boy's mother and father joined him in the prayer, their cries slowly fading out as the heartbeat and breathing of their child became steady. 

The family thanked Heeseung more times than he could count. His face hurt from the amount of smiling he did during those hours he sat in their home. They even cooked him dinner as a thanks. Once Heeseung walked out of the home, he understood why God chose this family. The boy had much life to give, and his parents were good and pure souls. 

Heeseung walked back into the city, hands behind his back as he stared at the nightlife. Loving all the lights that lit up the city perfectly. The hustling life of mortals laughing with friends and family as they head out for dinner or to even party. 

Hopefully, God won’t mind that I take a small walk before heading back. 

Heeseung walked as far as he could, finally deciding it was time to head back to the golden gates. 

That was until he saw you. 

Heeseung stood at a crosswalk, cars flying by and the wind blowing his silver hair and clothes in all directions. You popped up to his right, your phone once again was in your hands, thumbs pressing away at the screen. 

Time seemed to slow down then. The red hand that illuminated the crosswalk to not cross flashed its light. The cars fast-paced slowed. Heeseung turned his head to look at you, watching as you continued to step from the sidewalk and into the street, not paying any attention. 

His heart raced faster, eyes widening as he looked to his left, seeing a car passing into the next lane without using a blinker and showing no signs of slowing down or even honking their horn at you to show they were there. 

Heeseung acted fast, stepping down from the curb, hands reaching out to grab your shoulders and pull you back against him. Heeseung released his wings, wrapping them around you and twirling you around and back to the sidewalk. 

Time went back to normal, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. How stupid could you be to walk out into the street in the middle of rush hour while on your phone? You could have died. That’s when you noticed the white wings wrapped over you along with the strong arms that held you tightly. 

You looked up, resting your head against his chest, seeing it was the man you ran into earlier, seeing him staring back down at you. His chest raised and fell quickly, his warm breath touching your face. He’s an angel. An actual, real-life angel. Ones you’ve only been told about from stories as a child. 

Heeseung pulled his wings back behind him and hid them from the human eye once again. Seeing the other mortals around didn’t take any notice. He continued to stare into your eyes, “You silly little thing.” 

The longer the two of you looked at each other, the more your heart wanted to rip from your chest. He was beautiful. Breathtaking. You felt safe in his arms and without knowing you leaned more against him, Heeseung, as if on instinct, held you tighter against him. 

“Thank you,” you finally managed to say, your cold hands touching his where they sat against your forearms, “For saving me.”

Feeling your cold touch brought Heeseung back to reality. He smiled and released his arms from you, “Try and pay better attention next time, okay?” 

You turned to fully face him. Every fiber of your being wanted to cling to him. Your heart is calling for him. 

Heeseung kept his smile, giving you a small nod, and prepared to turn away. 

“Wait!” you quickly shouted, your hands now grasping at the back of his shirt. Heeseung looked over his shoulder at you, “Let me make it up to you, for saving me. And to apologize for calling you an asshole earlier.” 

Heeseung chuckled, “Being nice to an angel won’t get you into heaven, silly mortal.” 

You bit at the skin on your lip, “I really just want to thank you.” 

Heeseung looked up to the sky and then shrugged. God can wait for a bit longer. 

He followed close behind you until you stood in front of your apartment door and with shaky hands you unlocked the door and went inside, Heeseung trialing in. 

He held his hands behind his back, looking over every inch of your studio apartment. 

“I’m sorry it’s so small…” you whispered, closing the door behind you. 

Heeseung turned to face you, his smile still on his face, “It’s not my place to judge what you do or do not have. Your space is perfect if you make it perfect.” 

Right. You forgot he’s an angel. You kicked out of your shoes, reaching your hands up to unzip your jacket, noticing how quickly he turned around to look away from you. 

You drop your hands to your sides, “Want anything to eat or drink?” you ask quickly walking to your kitchen, “I am not sure what angels eat?” 

Heeseung chuckled, slowly turning to face you, “You don’t seem to be questioning what I am.” 

You gave him a small smile as you pulled two water bottles from your fridge, “I always believed. Believed we humans had someone looking after us, whether that was a God or angels or anything else.” 

Heeseung tilted his head, “What if I was anything else? You let me into your home so willingly.” 

You swallowed, not even taking into conversation that the man in front of you could be the other type of angel. One that was meant to draw you in and kill you, “Are you going to hurt me?” 

Heeseung took a few steps towards you, “I would never.” 

You slowly nodded at him and handed him his water bottle, “I am YN, by the way.” 

Heeseung gently took the water from you, his fingers brushing over yours, “Heeseung. Second hand to God.” 

You widen your eyes, you weren’t just dealing with an angel, but you were dealing with God’s TOP angel. 

Heeseung stared at you, “Something wrong, YN?” 

You shook your head, “You’re just…beautiful.” you didn’t know where that came from or why you even spoke those words from your mouth. 

His heart picked up its pace, and his ears started to burn red. He took steps away from you and finally took sips of his water. 

Heeseung thought you were beautiful too, a little silly mortal, but beautiful nevertheless. His heart was pulling to you and he needed to leave soon and quickly. 

He cleared his throat, “You wanted to thank me, but that’s not necessary. I was simply doing my job.” 

You set your water down on the table, “You saved my life, I need to thank you somehow.” 

Heeseung looked at your water bottle, watching how the droplet fell down the plastic and touched the wood of the table. He sat his bottle down beside yours, “Tell me your thanks then, I must return soon.” 

You didn’t know what came over you or what you were even thinking. All you knew was you were now standing before Heeseung, looking up into his brown eyes.

Heeseung stared back down into your eyes, loving the way their color shined under the light of your kitchen. You stood on your tiptoes, placing your hands on his shoulders. 

“YN,” he whispered, his hands now on your biceps, pulling your feet back flat to the floor, “I can’t accept that.” 

“Just one,” you whisper back, once again standing on your tiptoes, becoming inches away from his face. 

Heeseung’s lips parted, frozen in place as he watched you move closer. You brushed your nose against him, slowly closing your eyes as your lips touched together. 

Heeseung kept still as you held your lips to his, his heart threatening to rip from his chest. But once you pulled away, he was pulling you back. 

His hands moved from your biceps to your face, keeping you in place as he kissed you back. Lips moved together as if he’d never kissed someone before. 

Heeseung had his fair share of kisses when he was mortal, but none of them felt like yours do. Tasting so sweet and addicting. You kissed him back with the same amount of passion he was giving you, roaming your hands from his shoulders to his neck, fingers tangling in the silver strands of his hair. 

You don’t know if it was you or Heeseung who deepened the kiss, all concepts of time and the world around you were out the window at his touch. At the way his hands slid from your face to your hips. At how your body was pressed so close to his and how you were now pressed against the wall of your apartment. 

It was just kissing. You two were just making out and nothing else. But you wanted more, so much more. Heeseung too, wanted more of you. He couldn’t get enough. He rocked his hips against yours, his growing hard cock rubbing you just in the right way that your lips released from his to softly moan. 

Heeseung was off you within seconds of hearing that lewd, sweet sound come from your mouth. 

He pressed his back against the door, palming the door in hopes of getting his hands to stop shaking as he pants to catch his breath. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, “I’m sorry.” 

Heeseung glances up at you, his pupils blown out and filled with the want he has for you. You wanted to run to him, pull him back into you. But the moment his wings, his oh-so-beautiful wings, appeared from behind him, you knew your time with him was over. 

“We can’t see each other again,” Heeseung quickly says, turning and reaching for the door handle. 

“Why?!” you quickly asked, pushing yourself off the wall, “I want to see you again.” 

Heeseung flung the door open and rushed to the railing, “I can’t sin. You’re too tempting.” You stood in the doorway, watching as he climbed the railing, stretching his wings out. He glanced behind him, taking one last long look at you, feeling his heartbreaking, “Goodbye, silly mortal.” 

And then he was gone. He shot into the sky so far and fast you didn’t have time to blink, “Goodbye, Heeseung.” 

—

Heeseung kneeled at the altar, bringing his hands together, and doing his daily prayers and offerings. Pushing every thought of you out of his mind. 

It’s been days since he left you. Days since he felt the warmth of your body against his. How your lips tasted and moved against his own. How you made his body feel. The things he wanted to do to you…the thoughts that ran through his head about you. 

Heeseung squeezed his eyes, doing everything he could to shove the thought of you down and away. To forget about you and what had happened. He couldn’t have you no matter what. Angels and mortals can’t be together anyway. It was forbidden. Angels' jobs are to protect, provide guidance, to watch over, and ensure the safety of the mortals. To not intervene and only to do so when it’s necessary. Everything about you was against the rules. He couldn’t have relationships with you. 

Heeseung stood from the altar, turning to see his brothers standing behind him, “My apologies,” he said to the six of them, “I took a bit longer this morning. Please take your turn.” 

He stepped aside, watching as the youngest and newest angel in their ranks took to the alter first. 

“What took you so long to return the other night, brother?” Niki, the youngest, asked as he placed his hands together and knelt, “We missed you at dinner.” 

Heeseung placed his hands behind his back, “I was sent on a job. The family I helped offered me food as a thanks.” 

Sunoo and Sunghoon knelt down beside Niki, copying the prayers. 

Jay and Jake kept their eyes on Heeseung, their eyes telling Heeseung everything he needed to know: that they knew where he was that night. 

Jungwon gave Heeseung a dimpled smile as he knelt beside the others, “It was very nice of them to return their thanks in dinner for you. Make sure to keep contact with them. It would be the right thing to do.” 

Heeseung nodded at the younger, “Of course. Already plan to.” 

He looked back at Jay and Jake, giving them a small nod and walking past them. 

“We know,” was all Jay said in a whisper only he, Jake, and Heeseung could hear. 

Heeseung stopped a few steps behind them, keeping his hands behind his back and head held high, “I know.” 

“Only Jay and I,” Jake added, his Aussie accent coming out in a hushed tone, “You know the rules.” 

“I know,” Heeseung said again, “I saved her life and she thanked me the way she felt fit.” 

“That’s not what we are worried about though,” Jay sighed, keeping his eyes locked on the younger ones in front of him, folding his wings tightly to his back. 

Heeseung knew the two of them were being nosey. That they peeked down onto the mortal lands and saw everything that happened. 

“Will you tell on me?” Heeseung asked, keeping himself held high. 

Jake chuckled, “Of course not,” he finally turned to look at Heeseung, staring at the back of his head, “You just have to promise to never see her again.” 

Heeseung closed his eyes, “I know the rules. I appreciate you two looking after me, but I am the eldest angel, the most trusted, and I wouldn’t break that trust. Not to God, or you six.” 

“We want you to promise,” Jay mumbled, “Say you promise.” 

“I promise.” 

Jay and Jake nodded, joining their brothers at the alter, leaving Heeseung standing alone. He walked out of the chapel and into the garden. He hated having to make that promise, but knowing it was necessary to make. Not just for his brother's peace of mind, but also his own. 

The day went on like normal with his normal scheduled things. It was enough to distract him away from the conversation that morning with Jay and Jake. Enough to keep his mind off and away from you. 

That was until night fell and he returned to his room with his back pressed to his shower wall, head leaned over, and letting the water slip down his head and face. 

Heeseung reached his fingers up to his lips, rubbing the pads over them, remembering the way your lips felt pressed against him. He ran his hands from the back of his neck to his shoulders, touching every inch of his upper half that your hands touched. 

Heeseung started to pant, his heart beating faster at the memories of you pressed against him. The moan that left your vulgar mouth. The pulsing pressure Heessung felt on his lower half was making him shake. He wrapped his hand around himself, slowly stroking up and back down. Biting his lips to keep any noise from coming out. 

This wasn’t like Heeseung. This wasn’t his normal behavior. And if he got found out…it would be over for him. It would have been over for him a long time ago if he was caught with you that night. Or if he continued any further. The moment Heeseung would have touched you inappropriately, or slid himself inside you…

Heeseung’s breath hitched, his thumb circling the tip. His eyes were glued to how red and angry it looked, how badly he wanted to feel your hand in place of his. 

He quickly let go of himself, turning the warm water from hot to cold, his body shivering from the new temperature and removing his thoughts about you. 

Even after his shower and now lying in bed, his thoughts trailed to you and the small time he spent with you. His heart ached, begging to hear your voice one more time. He forced himself to sleep. Forced himself to wake up that next morning and go about his normal schedule. To go back to bed and repeat over and over. 

Heeseung broke the minute he landed back in the city, sneaking out of heaven for the night and landing himself at your front door. His shaky hands banging on your door. 

You jolted awake, angrily stomping your way to the front door, “What the fuck do you want it’s almost two in the morning!” you snapped pulling the door open to see Heeseung standing before you, his wings quickly pulled tightly to his back as he pushed himself inside, his hands immediately cupping your face and lips attaching to yours. 

“Hee—Heeseung,” you said his name in between kisses, eventually pressing your hands to his chest and pushing him. Heeseung pulled back, looking at you with so much worry, “What are you doing here?” You asked. 

Heeseung slid his hands from your face to your arms, thumbs rubbing at your skin, “Do you want me to go?” 

“No!” you said a bit too hastily, fingers gripping at the fabric of his dark blue shirt, “I’ve missed you so much please don’t go.” 

It was true, you missed him more than you wanted to admit and the weeks you spent away from him were torture. You barely knew him, knew next to nothing about him actually. But something about him pulled you in. The moment you felt his arms and wings wrap around you, your heart was his for the taking. 

You did enough research after he left about why he couldn’t stay with you. Why he couldn’t be doing this with you. He’s breaking enough rules as it is to be here with you right now. 

Heeseung kissed you again, letting his wings drop to the floor, “I’ve missed you so much,” he said between each kiss, “You’re so darn tempting.” 

You giggled at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I thought you couldn’t sin,” you teased him. 

Heeseung left your lips to kiss down your neck, “Kissing isn’t a sin. As long as I don’t touch you or have sex with you…” he brushed his lips back up to your jaw, “Just don’t tempt me to do anything but kiss you.” 

You did as the angel told you. Doing nothing but letting him kiss you and keeping your hands to yourself even if it was killing you to not touch him. Heeseung kept his hands on your face, thumbs gently rubbing back and forth across your jawline, slowly walking you to your bed and laying you down. Heeseung climbed in over you, gently laying his body down on top of yours, wanting to be as close as legally possible for him to be. 

He didn’t move, no matter how hard he got. He didn’t touch you anywhere but your arms and face, even if his hands were screaming to touch every inch of you. All he did was keep his lips connected to yours, kissing you so gently and softly until both of yours and his lips were swollen. 

You fell asleep in his arms but awoke to an empty apartment but a handwritten letter was on your kitchen table, Heeseung telling you he would be back when he could. 

And Heeseung kept true to his word. He always came back to you. He always held you close in his arms and kissed you gently. Heeseung fell hard in love with you. No amount of time spent with you was ever enough, not when he had to go back to Heaven before anyone noticed he was gone. Do his normal duties and schedule, wait a couple of days, then crash land back at your door. 

Each time was harder than the last. You became his every thought and wish. And Heeseung was slowly starting to lose himself when it came to you. His immortal life started to become more mortal again being with you. Mostly with how much your existence was starting to tempt him more and more. 

Heeseung was slowly starting to break the rules even more than he already was. Brushing his hands over your breasts slowly, tangling his fingers in your hair, rubbing his cock against your heat, and shoving his tongue down your throat. He would undress you, undress himself, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties and him in his boxers, trying so hard to keep his eyes on your face and not trace every inch of your almost bare body. 

You were the devil that sat on his shoulder, breaking him away from who he really was. Never once in his life, before he died and after, was he ever faced with temptation like this. 

You made it so hard for him to behave. Not when he’d hear your sweet moans fill his ears as you buck your hips against his to feel his length and run your hands down every inch of his body. 

Heeseung nearly lost his mind when your hand wrapped around him for the first time, feeling how your fingers pumped him so slowly and oh so so good. 

“Angels don’t act like this, darling,” Heeseung whispered in your ear as your hand squeezed him, “You’re such a devil to me.”

You kissed his neck, stroking his cock a bit faster, “I’m just a devil in disguise,” you teased him, knowing full well Heeseung was loving this banter. 

“I love you,” he kissed your ear, rocking himself in your hand, “I love you so much.” 

Heeseung had you stop before things got too out of control. Redressing himself and you before giving you a final kiss goodnight and leaving. 

You always hated to watch him go. To watch as your angel flew away into the night and having to count down the days until you could see him again. 

—

Heeseung stood before the altar, his six brothers surrounding behind him along with the other angels of heaven. He kept his hands pressed behind his back, “You called for me, my savior?” 

God hummed, “We have a lot to discuss, my angel.” 

Heeseung glanced around at his brothers, taking note of their facial expressions. Then looked at the other angels, they wore the same looks, just not as hurt as his brothers. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what this was about. Heeseung knew. His luck ran out. 

“What would you like to discuss?” Heeseung asked, giving a smile. 

“About your wrongdoings.” 

Heeseung’s smile faded, dropping his kind and happy act. He had to admit, he no longer was happy being here in heaven. Not when his heart was on mortal lands. Heaven was back on Earth. Not in these clouds. Not anymore. 

“Are you wanting me to confess my sins, my lord?” Heeseung kept his head lifted, straightening up his posture. 

“Yes,” God said with a sigh, “And why you betrayed me.” 

Heeseung pulled his wings tighter to his back, squeezing his hands together, “I am in love with her.” 

His six brothers closed their eyes tightly, tilting their heads down towards the white morale floor, hands in fists. The other angels gasped at the confession. 

“State the rest of your sins, Lee Heeseung.” 

Heeseung lifted his head up higher, “I’ve touched her. Let her touch me. Slept beside her and held her in my arms. Rubbed my body against hers until she was moaning.” 

The gasps of the other angels grew louder, their chattering voices echoing across the chapel. 

“But you never slept with her, have you?” 

Heeseung smirked, “No, I haven’t had sex with her. But I want to.”

More gasps filled the chapel. Jay now appearing at Heeseung’s side, his hand gripping his shoulder, “Stop talking man!” 

Heeseung shook his brother off him, “Go and stand back where you were, Jay.” 

“Jongseong,” God said quickly, “Please.” 

Jay slowly walked back, standing close to Jake. 

“What has she done to you? My angel? Why did you fall into her temptation when she’s a devil.” 

Heeseung tensed his face and body. Wings pulled even tighter against him to keep them from shaking out of pure anger, “She’s a human being. Nothing even close to those damned demons.” 

More gasps from the other angels. 

“You will watch your mouth when speaking to me.” 

Heeseung chuckled, looking down to the floor, “My apologies.” 

Heeseung thinned his lips in a line. He was filled with so much conflict. This place wasn’t his home, not when you were down below waiting for him. Heeseung loved his time here, loved helping mortals who needed him, and loved his six brothers and even the jobs and duties he had here. Spending time with you did change him, making him want more out of his immortal life than to just exist. He wanted to live. He wanted to love. He wanted life with you. 

Heeseung held his head high again, relaxing his body, “I confess to all my sins. My thoughts I’ve had of her, the things I want to do to and with her and I confess to betraying you and your trust, my savior.” 

God sighed, silence filling the room. Heeseung knew what was next. His punishment. 

“Jay, Jake, Sungoon, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki,” God called for them, “Stand by Heeseung.” 

Heeseung watched his six brothers stand closer to him, seeing the looks on their faces as God spoke to them one one-on-one in their minds, telling them exactly what they needed to do. 

Niki and Jungwon held his legs down, while Sunghoon and Sunoo stretched his arms out and held a death grip on them. 

Heeseung’s body shook, pure fear covering his face when he felt Jay’s and Jake’s hands touch his wings, “No,” Heeseung whispered, fighting as much as he could to pull his wings back, “Not my wings.” 

Jay gritted his teeth as he forced Heeseung’s left wing out, stretching it out to its full span. Jake did the same, biting down hard on his lip and breaking the skin. 

“This is your punishment, Lee Heeseung,” God said with a stern voice, “You lose your place here. And I’m taking back your wings I granted you.” 

Heeseung pushed and pulled at his brothers, doing anything he could to get them off him but their grips held hard. 

“Heeseung, please,” Sunghoon begged as he gripped his wrist harder, “Stop.” 

“Hyung please,” Sunoo begged. 

But Heeseung kept fighting to break free. 

“ENOUGH!” 

Everyone stood still as the room shook with God’s shout. Sweat rolled down Heessung’s face, his eyes piercing through everyone surrounding him.

“Take his wings. Now.”

Heeseung smirked, “To hell with all this,” he whispered. 

Jay and Jake looked at each other, their tears swelling up in their eyes as God whispered in their minds to take Heeseung’s wings. To rip them from his body. 

They pulled and Heeseung shouted. His voice echoed off the walls as Jay and Jake pulled with their full strength. Sunghoon and Sunoo kept their grips on his wrists tight and same with Jungwon and Niki at his legs, holding on for dear life. 

It was killing Jay to have to do this, to watch his own hands pull his older brother's wing right out of his body. He could only imagine the pain Heeseung was feeling. And Jake? He was in tears. He could feel inch by inch of Heeseung’s right wing stripping from his back. He could already see the blood spilling onto his white robes and onto the floor. Seeing Heeseung fling his head back and forth in a rage as his voice bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the whole chapel. The pained faces his other six brothers had at having to witness this. 

Jake wished he could turn back time, wished he could have stopped Heeseung from sneaking out. Stopped the angel who caught Heeseung dropping down to the mortal lands and kept him from getting nosey and running his mouth to God. But it was all too late. Heeseung would get his wings stripped from him and pushed down to the Earth to fall. All Jake could do now was pray he survived long enough to make it to you. 

Heeseung clenched his jaw as the last bit of his wings was stripped from his body, his back spilling blood and muscles aching from the loss of where his wings once were. His beautiful white feathered wings lost all their life and slumped in Jay’s and Jake’s hands, blood dripping down them. 

His brothers stepped away from him, watching as Heeseung fell to the floor, too dizzy from the blood loss. 

“You will now fall,” God sighed, “You will be stripped of your immortality and fall to Earth. You will crawl to your lover and show her where her sins got you.” 

Heeseung weakly smirked, eyes closing, “Gladly.” 

Heeseung didn’t know who picked him up by his arms and dragged him out of the chapel, he just knew it wasn’t any of his brothers. The grip the other two angles had on him was proof enough that it wasn’t any of the ones he loved. 

The six of them stood in the chapel still, eyes locked on Heeseung's wingless back, watching the blood pool from the wounds and stain his white robes and the marble floor. 

They watched helplessly as Heeseung was pushed off the edge. 

—

You heard a faint knocking on your door. At first, you thought you might have gone crazy and heard things. But once the knocking kept happening and then you heard something fall, you quickly rushed to the door, opening it to find Heeseung still in his white-stained robes. His back was pressed against the railing and his skin was pale. 

“Heeseung, oh my god!” you dropped down to his side, cupping your hands to his face, “What happened?!” 

Heeseung was barely able to hold his eyes open, “My wings…they stripped my wings from me.” 

You bit at the skin on your cheek, quickly standing back to your feet and pulling him up with all the strength you had, pulling his arm over your shoulders and gripping your arm around his waist, pulling him inside your apartment. 

Heeseung barely made it a couple of steps in before falling to his knees, you losing your grip on him and your eyes finally landing on the holes in his robes and the blood that still continued to push out. 

“Heeseung,” you fell back to his side, “You need to get to a hospital.” 

“And tell them what?” he breathed out, fingers gripping the carpet as he pants, “That I am a fallen angel who got their wings forcefully torn from his body?” 

Heeseung wasn’t trying to be snappy or rude, truly. The pain was just so immense he couldn’t control anything. 

You sat back on your heels, watching the love of your life suffer. This was your fault. It was all your fault. You’re the one who asked him to come home with you that fateful day. You’re the one who kissed him. Who tempted him. You pulled him in and touched him. You did this to him. 

Heeseung could practically hear your brain turning over and over. He pushed himself to his side, reaching his hand up to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him, “This is not your fault, you hear me? Not even close.” 

The tears swelled in your eyes now, falling into his touch as he cupped his hand to your cheek, “Heeseung…” 

“Baby,” he whispered, “I need you to do as I say, okay? My immortality hasn’t been taken from me yet, I will heal a bit fast but I need my wounds covered and taken care of, can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, placing a kiss on his palm. Heeseung told you exactly what you needed to do. Starting with tearing his robes off his body and ripping it into a big enough strand to be wrapped around him. Then using any medical alcohol you had in the apartment and pour it onto his wounds and hold a towel to them. It killed you having to press the towels to his wounds, feeling the massive hole where his beautiful wings once were…the pain Heeseung must be feeling…

But you took care of him. Doctoring his wounds to the best of your ability and doing as he instructed you. You wrapped the pieces of what was left of his robe around his chest and back, tying it as tightly as you could. 

You helped him to your bed, steadying him up as he sat down. Heeseung wasn’t as pale as earlier, but you could still see the pained expression. 

“Hey,” He whispered, cupping your face, “Stop thinking whatever it is.” 

You looked away from him, “I caused this. I tempted you.” 

Heeseung shook his head, “Baby, look at me,” you looked up at him, “I did this of my own free will,” he slid his hands from your face and down to your waist, “I knew the consequences, and did it anyway,” he squeezed your waist, “I love you. I gave up heaven for you.” 

You wanted to fight him, to yell in his face about giving up eternity for you. But you also couldn’t help but feel so loved at this moment. That this angel found love with you and was willing to give up everything for you. 

Heeseung kissed you, pulling you between his legs, and deepening the kiss. 

“Heeseung,” you said, pulling away from him, “You’re injured, you need to rest.” 

“No,” he shook his head, pulling you down into the bed and towering over you, “I’ve waited,” he said, his eyes growing lustful and his fingers tearing into your shirt and ripping it in half, pulling it off your body, “so damn long,” sliding his hands down to your shorts, looping his fingers in and pulling them down, taking your panties down with, “to have you like this.” 

Heeseung kicked your legs apart with his knees, leaning up straight to unbutton and unzip his black slacks, wiggling them off his body, leaving him in his boxers. You pulled yourself up on your elbows, opening your mouth to protest that this could wait. But Heeseung wasn’t having any of it. He connected his lips back to yours, his hands cupping your breasts and loving the way you moaned into his mouth. 

“Oh hell baby,” he said between kisses, “I love how these feel between my fingers.” 

You kept your lips attached to his as if your life depended on it, bucking your hips up onto his. 

Heeseung trailed his lips down to your neck, squeezing your breasts then sliding them behind to unhook your bra, sending the fabric off somewhere in the apartment. 

Heeseung lifted himself back up, tearing down at your bare body. So perfect. So beautiful. So his. 

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered, connecting his forehead to yours, tracing his fingertips down your body and stopping at your cunt, slowly pushing his fingers in, “So wet,” he groaned, rubbing his hard cock against your thigh, “Hmm I can’t wait to feel your cunt wrapped around me.” 

You giggled at him, “Angels don’t say such dirty things,” you teased. 

“Yeah?” he smirked, plunging his fingers in and out faster, “Angels don’t finger this good, do they?” 

You squirm underneath him, rolling your hips in sync with his fingers. Pushing your head back into your pillows and aches your back. 

You gasped out at the loss of his fingers, watching as he pulled the remainder of his clothing off him. His hard cock was red and angry. Precum dripping from his tip.

Heeseung gripped both your thighs, pushing them to your chest, “Angels don’t do what I am fixing to do to you,” he smirked, lining his cock up to your entrance. With a deep breath, he pushed himself inside you. Heeseung’s moans fill the apartment along with your own. 

His grip on your thighs tightened, his nails digging into the skin. He pulled his hips back and pushed forward. Picking up his pace and pounding into you like a madman. His pupils were blown out and his breaths were unsteady. This. This was what he gave up heaven for. To feel your cunt wrapped around his cock. This was the real heaven. 

“See, darling,” he groans, throwing his head back, “Angels don’t fuc-fuck this good,” he looked back down at you, loving your fucked out expression and how your hands gripped your bedsheets. Mouth slack as sweet moans spill from your lips. It turned you on so bad hearing Heeseung talk this way. To feel him so balls deep in your pussy, “Thank god I am not an angel, huh?” 

Heeseung was the definition of looks like an angel but fucks like a demon. With the way he pistoned into you, the grip on your thighs, the dirty words leaving his mouth that you’ve never heard him say before tonight…Heeseung was never meant to stay an angel. 

You continued to moan out with each of his hard thrusts, your core growing tight and threatening to snap at any moment, “Fuck you feel so good,” he breathes, “Moan my name baby,” he snaked his fingers to your clit, rubbing it aggressively, “Cum around my cock, I know you want to.” 

You bit your lip, arching your back more at his touch, jaw going slack as you chanted his name. Chanting his name as if he were god and you were his follower. Your core snapping, your orgasm releasing around him and onto your bedsheets, “Fuck yes, baby,” he smiles, pumping himself even faster inside you, “Can’t believe I’ve waited this long to fuck you. Should have done it the night we met. Should have fucked this cunt, should have ruined you. Claimed you as mine from the beginning. Oh fuck—“

Heeseung’s body shuddered, cock twitching, “I’m fixing to cum baby,” he bit his lip, looking down and watching how his cock slides in and out, in and out, “Oh dear god, I’m cumming. Oh fuck I’m cumming.” 

He kept his eyes locked on your pussy as he came, watching how his seed leaked from your hole as he continued to pump inside of you, milking his cock between your walls. 

Heeseung fell on top of your body, his head resting on your chest as he steadied himself and caught his breath, wrapping his arms underneath you. 

Heeseung spent his whole life being good and doing good. Never once being selfish or doing any selfish acts. Until you. You pulled this high-ranking angel down to his knees. Making him for once, want to be selfish. To do something for himself. To live freely and be free. To love and fuck you with every ounce of his being. 

He was so in love with you and you were so worth getting his wings taken away from him. It's so worth his immortality being stripped. 

Heeseung looked up at you, “Want to know a secret?” You tilted your head at him, waiting for him to continue, “I knew it would happen eventually. I wasn’t truly happy up there. My brothers and God knew it too. It was a matter of time before I fucked up and got caught,” he leaned himself up on his elbows, “I wanted it to happen. Because I wanted to be with you so bad. I knew they’d strip my wings. Take my immortality. Yeah, I enjoyed my wings and being immortal, but I wanted you so much more than that.” 

You cupped his face, “My fallen angel,” 

He placed a kiss on your lips, “I love you, YN.” Heeseung wrapped your legs around his waist, slowly moving again, “And I so love fucking this pussy.” 

You giggled, bracing your hands onto his biceps, “I love you too, even if you gave everything up for me.” 

Heeseung rested his forehead on yours, slowly fucking into you, “And I’d do it over and over again, all for you.”

—perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @belowbun @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs @seunghancore @enha-cafe @ohdeerhee @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee

[limerlove]

i think some skin to skin with cowgirl abby could and would fix me :P

❝ IM IN LOVE WITH YOU ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON!

an. nonnie, thank you for the request. it's more angst than i planned so i hope that's okay! i also wanna credit the cuntress queen @astralnymphh for this concept. so, so good. y'all need to check it out asap.

Since she could feel it, from very early on, she’s liked women and never enjoyed the company of men other than to have an occasional beer with. Most of the girls around her worried about settling down, finding a perfect man, one who is respectable, stable, loving. Pleasing the wishes of their parents who are ever so demanding with a downpour of insured judgements. 

It’s all left to be found here, the bellows from a man and a woman living unhappily together, telling others how to live their life. Yet, Abby from a young age yearns for someone else, the piece she believes is missin’. 

The sought after, happily ever after. 

Not a soul she had met for her bill so she keeps her head down. Late night escapades are tight lipped, hidden from spectator’s eyes, ones they would throw slurs her way without a second thought if they knew. Just like they had when she hadn’t kept it a secret.

 Sometimes, it burns. Other times when she was buried in between a woman’s thighs as they cried for mercy in her ear, it didn’t. 

Underneath the midnight sky, her fingertips dance on the white wood — the one she shouldn’t be stepping her boots back on. 

Despite how she tells herself, this will be the last time, it never really is. It’s a quiet night in the small town tucked away in a small town in South Texas, the stars shine bright in the countryside, moonlight shining brighter than it has all month long. 

Abby steps up to your front porch, the pearly white picket fence, the home your dad built with his two bare hands and a dream. When she’s met with your shining smile, the doubt is evident, barely visible but it’s there. 

Is this what you want? Or were you just too kind of a woman to say no? 

Nothing is said between the two of you as you pull her into your home, a senseless wonder swirls in your eyes, getting lost in impenetrable blues. Maybe, it’s what pulls you in and keeps you there like the failed dreams in a dying town. Perhaps it’s when you dream of the sound of her voice at night when she decides not to come, leaving you alone to think of not a single thing but her. 

Once the door closes, it’s just the two of you. Abby’s musk is overwhelming, she tends to be, but you seem to welcome it with open arms. There's a pot roast you made for her, devouring it silently at the round dining room table, her muscular thigh touching yours, reminding you of the feelings which never seem to wither. 

Her brown, weathered stetson hat sits on the empty chair, her fingertips picking at the frayed edge, the nagging thought in her brain shouts at her to say something, anything, but you beat her to it. 

“You don’t have to stay, Abby. You’ve got an early morning, so do I.” You pick up the emptied plates, washing them at the sink when you feel strong, protective, arms wrap around your waist, her chin resting against your shoulder. 

“Why are you putting words in my mouth, darling?” Pink lips decorate deliberate kisses along the side of your neck, “I’m right where I wanna be. M’here with you, not going anywhere.” 

With her pointer finger, she tilts your head to her, dominant lips catching hers, Abby’s hold keeping you in place as she reminds you of what it feels like to be held by the person you call home. The quivering feeling shoots a shiver up your spine, her hands don’t stop moving as they caress your body. 

“C’mon now, you need some sleep.” Her southern drawl is strong as ever as she leads you up the stairs into your bedroom. “S’late, can’t have you not gettin’ sleep because of little ‘ole me.” 

You know what she wants and you know you’ll do it too. 

Anything for her. Right? 

A freshly showered Abby emerges as naked as the day she was born. Porcelain skin tanned by the radiance of the sun from a hard day’s work, a constellation of freckles cover her body. There’s an abundance collecting at her shoulders, across her collarbones as they dust her strong nose and spread across perfectly sculpted cheeks. 

The time you have with each other is few and far in between, occupied by the responsibilities of managing a ranch with her father commands most of the hours of the day, keeping her effectively away from you.

Plus, the feeling swarming in her heart she refuses to see yet she’s here a few times a week, wanting this. If Abby wants more, she’s good at hiding it, but the thought alone is dangerous. You can allow yourself to want more, not when she gives you nothing in return. 

“Are you gonna come over here, gorgeous?” She slides in between your legs, some of her weight soothingly collapses onto you. “Patience darling, m’right here, not going anywhere.” 

With a sigh of content, she grabs you by the waist as she pulls you on top of her with ease. Abby’s golden waves kiss your face as she hides her face in the crook of her neck. Meticulously, the blunt of her fingertips draw patterns on your skin, playing with the hem on your lace undergarment, the only piece of clothing left in your body. 

“You will go somewhere. In the morning, you’ll leave without saying goodbye. Jus’ like you do after every night.” Abby tightens her hold, thinking if she keeps you close you won't slip through but truth be told? She’d be the first to drop you, even if it wasn't her intention. 

“Sorry, m’not strong like you.” 

“I think you’re a lot stronger than you think, y’know?” Her lips find yours as her skin smothers you in the body wash she keeps in the cabinet. Soft breasts melt against her own, calming her in a way Abby can’t quite comprehend. 

This was more than just sex. If that’s all this was, she would be the nearest bar picking up the closeted women who fawn over her before she even steps her foot in the front door. The most sought after woman in town, yet it’s her tongue in your mouth, claiming in a way words fail her. 

“Abby—” The moan vibrates through her, she falls into the sensation of your heavenly skin, smooth against her calloused hands. Every inch of your body feels golden to her. It’s what she craves, the intimacy without having to be, so good, a delicate sigh leaves her puffy lips. “I—” 

With a loving look in her wondrous pools of deep sea blues, with a hint of gray stowed away beneath the light, she inquires for you to continue as she looks up at you. 

Your hands gently touch her face, thumb lovingly soothing over the apples of her cheeks and the scar decorating one of them. There’s nothing she despises more than it, makes her look far too damaged, but you’ve always thought it makes her the person she is. 

Strong, loving, imperfectly perfect. 

The first time you did it, she flinched as she gripped your wrist, pulling your fingers away from marking. Now, she closes her eyes and lets you. 

“When can I tell you without you running? When are you gonna stay?” Abby wants to tell you, say it. I won’t leave. I’ll always be here, right with you, forever. 

She doesn’t. She can’t. 

The words die on her tongue, the three little ones she feels but can’t let through. The past hurts haunt her as it disgusts itself as a never ending hangover which she holds it against you. It’s not meant to be cruel, it certainly isn’t fair, but it’s all she can do until time heals the festering wound. 

“I don’t have an answer for you—” Her blue eyes open, her lips ghosting over your again. “But, this, you? It’s just you and me. No one else, darling.” 

For now, it’s enough, but Abby stresses over the day where you’ve had enough cursing at the wind and whatever god sits above. 

One day, somewhere in the near future, she won’t be.

taglist: @plutolovesyou @brackishkittie @nybueckers @tlouloser

wanna be tagged?

[viperify]

Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

We will meet again.

Short summary: You know your way around your town, which is why a handsome stranger at your local Christmas market instantly catches your attention. However, you surely are in for a surprise…

A/N: Posting this at 6am bc I have no life. Part two coming asap (buckle up for some hate fucking)

wordcount: 1,8k

part 2

The powdery snow crunches under the sole of your winter boots as you stroll through the Christmas market in your town. You inhale deeply, the smell of freshly baked gingerbread and orange-scented mulled whine filling your senses. Small children run around, screeching as they chase each other with snowballs. Your friends agreed to meet you later that evening, so for now, you enjoyed some alone time.

As you pass a group of musicians playing Christmas carols, a handsome stranger catches your attention. He is wearing a black winter coat and leather gloves, one hand in the pocket of his coat while he is gesturing towards the exit with the other, seemingly more than ready to leave. His beautiful brunette curls fall onto his forehead on one side, a few snowflakes sticking to his hair.

The longer you stare at him, the more curious you become where he might be from, given that you live in a fairly small town and everyone knows each other. You two lock eyes for a brief moment before he returns his attention to who you assume to be his friends. They soon turn their heads too, grinning when they spot who he was looking at. “Shit.” You curse under your breath, quickly disappearing behind a jewellery stand.

Tom did not want to be there by any means. Yet Mattheo, Draco and Theo had somehow convinced him to accompany them. Or, as he suspected, drugged him into compliance. These ridiculous muggle traditions and celebrations had even as a kid infuriated him. Not to mention that he was freezing in this weather, every tiny snowflake melting on his coat only adding to his irritation.

“I am leaving. I have had enough of this.” He sneers, pointing towards the exit. The others don’t pay his complaints any attention, exchanging knowing glances and resuming their conversation. Tom’s eyes wander around the market as the musicians begin another song. That’s when he spots you – staring right back at him.

Your figure is hidden beneath a thick winter jacket, a red scarf wrapped snugly around your neck, and a thin layer of snow covering the top of your head.

“Tom?”

He snaps out of his thoughts and turns toward his brother. “What were you-“ Mattheo begins, but stops mid-sentence, turning to scan the place. A sly grin forms on his lips as he sees you quickly turn to leave. “I see, I see. Tom Riddle ogling a muggle girl, huh?”

A scoff escapes Tom. “I wasn’t.”

The others laugh at how unconvincing his answer was. A whole new Tom had just emerged from Merlin knows where. Even he himself couldn’t believe the uncertainty in his voice, there was no way a muggle girl could be this intriguing at first sight. For the next few minutes he found himself unable to get his mind off you no matter what he tried, utterly convinced you had to be a witch as well. That was exactly what he was going to attempt to find out.

“I will be back.” Tom excuses himself, not waiting for an answer, heading in the direction you had disappeared. “Have fun!” The others tease, but he doesn’t care a bit. He had to find you.

“Thanks so much!” You smile, handing the man behind the counter some cash in exchange for a steaming hot cup of berry-flavoured tea. The brunette’s gaze still lingers in your mind, and secretly you wish he had followed you. There was something about him – something strange almost. An energy you had never felt before.

The cup warms your hands, numb from the cold as you stupidly enough had forgotten your gloves at home. Taking a first careful sip of your tea, you make your way to find a bench. Or so you think.

Just as you pass a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, a tall figure appears in front of you. You bump into him, spilling the tea everywhere. “God, I am so sorry!” You apologize, hissing at the burning sensation of the hot liquid dripping over your freezing fingers. As you look up, you instantly recognize the brunette from earlier in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise and you realize you had thoroughly drenched his coat. You reach out instinctively to assess the damage, however he catches your wrist and stops you.

“Hold on. I got it.”

Not in your wildest dreams you could have imagined what happens next. From inside his coat he pulls out a long, weirdly shaped object, a stick you think. With just a small wave the spilled tea vanishes into thin air, the soaked spot on his coat drying up instantly.

Your eyes widen in horror, and you let out a small huff. “What are you? Some kind of magician?” You try to laugh the rising unease off, although seriously concerned by what the man in front of you had just done. He looks at you with a stern expression, realizing he was mistaken, you weren’t a witch. “I am much more than a magician.” The brunette murmurs and with another wave of that strange stick…

“Obliviate.”

The memory of what had just happened fades from your mind. Tom surely wasn’t going to take any chances with the Ministry, performing magic in front of a muggle could get you into serious trouble after all.

A tall figure, whom you recognize immediately, appears from behind the tree. It’s him, he had followed you after all. “Hey” you say, smiling. He nods. Just as you are about to take another sip of your tea, you realize the mug is almost empty, even though you had just bought it a minute ago.

“It’s leaking.” The brunette suggests, pointing to a drop forming beneath the porcelain mug. You check it and it’s true what he said. “Seems like you are right” you reply, looking behind you to see if you had spilled more, strangely enough though, that wasn’t the case. “But why-“

“I’ll get you a new one.” He interrupts, hands in the pockets of his coat as he strides toward the hut where you had bought it from. You follow him, tell him he doesn’t need to, yet he insists.

He hands you a fresh cup of the same tea you had before, which makes you wonder how he knew your choice, but deciding it might just be a coincidence, you let it go. “Thank you” you say, shooting him a small smile.

Tom didn’t know why he stayed after finding out you were a muggle, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave. There was something different about you. He had noticed it the moment your eyes met, and he noticed it again now.

Both of you just stand there in silence for a moment and as soon as you take in his stern facial expression, you laugh, drawing his gaze to you. “You seem awfully unpleased to be here. Did your friends drag you along?”

“You could say so.” He replies, eyes flickering between you and some children running around nearby. “What’s your name, by the way? I have never seen you here before, and believe me, I know every soul in this town.”

“I am Tom, and not from here. So you couldn’t possibly know me.” He replies, his expression never changing into a friendlier one. “Well, Tom,” you grin, grabbing the sleeve of his coat. “I’d love to show you around then.”

Despite his initial resistance, you lead him through the market, trying out seasonal treats at various stands he has apparently never had before. “These are disgusting.” He remarks, handing you the roasted chestnuts he bought only a minute ago. You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head in disbelief. “Don’t say that. They are my favourite!”

The next stop brings you to the children’s choir, watching them perform in front of their proud parents. You notice that each time there is a crowd, Tom goes silent, observing his surroundings intently. “Hey, what’s up?” You ask him, finishing your chestnuts.

“I hate everything about this.” He grumbles, and you two make your way out of the crowd, sitting down on a nearby bench.

“There is no reason for you to be so grumpy. It’s Christmas! The season of love and peace.”

Tom shakes his head. “I don’t care about either of those.”

“Poor Tom had his heart broken recently?” You tease, a playful tone in your voice. By the look he shoots you, you realize you had most likely struck a nerve and you apologize.

He doesn’t respond.

For a minute you sit there in awkward silence, the flickering lights from a nearby tree casting a colorful glow on his dark curls.

Ping.

You reach in your handbag and pull out your phone, seeing that your friends had texted you. Tom turns his head, looking at you like he had never seen a phone before. Your eyes meet his. “Some of my friends are going to be here soon. We could go to the ferris wheel then if you’d like?” You try to ease the tension, but he has other plans. “I am going to get going then.”

“No, stay! They would surely love to meet you.” You insist, placing your hand on his, feeling his warmth on your palm. He cocks an eyebrow at the sudden touch and you blush, pulling your hand back. “Sorry.” you whisper.

Your head shoots up as you hear familiar voices calling for you and you stand up to wave your friends over to where you two are sitting. Tom on the other hand takes the opportunity to leave, making his way back to the others. Talking to one muggle was bad enough.

Of course, they tease him on their way back to Hogwarts. He doesn’t care, though. You are still on his mind, and he can’t seem to forget you, much to his dismay. Too friendly, too cheerful for his liking. And who did you think you were to make fun of him?

He had it planned out – sweet revenge.

“Let me introduce you to someone I met just an hour ago!” You turn around to Tom, or atleast to where you think he was sitting. However, there is no one. He is gone. “Who exactly are we talking about? You are making friends with benches now?” Your friends laugh and you frown. “I swear he was just-“

The evening passes quickly and though you still enjoyed yourself, you couldnt figure out where Tom went. There was no way he could have disappeared that quickly. As you arrive home, you sit down on your bed, emptying your handbag, when an unfamiliar object catches your attention. It’s a gorgeous silver necklace, an emerald green gem hanging from the delicate chain. With it, you find a note.   

We will meet again.

[mrdixon]

Shut it

pairing: established daryl dixon x f!reader

wc: 5.9k

summary: pretty much trying to make Daryl jealous GONE WRONG !!!!

warnings: 18+ content, swearing duh, hair pulling, fingering, rough sex, p-in-v, unprotected sex, squirting, little bit degrading, some spanking,,,,

A/N: GOD this took way longer than it shouldve but writers block makes me want to shove my fingers in my eyes. anyway i hope this was worth the wait because i do not enjoy this as much as i should. BEWARE not fully proofread so i may come back to edit things im just so fucking tired and wanna get this out asap. also i personally dont believe that daryl would be the type to be this rough during sex but a guy can dream…

masterlist!

Daryl was never the jealous type, he trusted you and your decisions so there was no point in getting jealous. He had you, you both knew it. So when a certain man in Alexandria started pursuing you, he didn't pay much attention.

It sort of bothered you, feeling kind of guilty that you wanted your boyfriend to be jealous. You guessed it was just cause you wanted him to be possessive, but he wasn't like that. He cherished you, held you carefully. Sure he liked people knowing he was your boyfriend, but he wouldn't go as far as to mark you up or do something rash in public. That didn't mean he didn't care about you, hell he loved taking care of you and loving you. He just preferred to keep your intimate life private.

You were outside in the front yard tending to some flowers when the guy pursuing you, William, walked up.

“Hey, (Y/N).” He grinned down at you, making you have to look up at him. Squinting from the sun in your eyes, smiling.

“Oh hey, what brings you here?” You replying in a friendly tone, wiping the dirt off your knees before standing up and taking your gloves off. You could feel William’s eyes trail down your body and you mentally eye rolled.

“Just… y’know. Hanging around, taking a walk… Whatcha’ up to?” He murmured, clearly distracted.

You laughed sarcastically, “just fixin’ up these flowers. Couple of kids ran over them yesterday.” William nodded absentmindedly, staring at everything but your eyes.

“Uhuh… poor dog…” He mumbled, clearly not paying attention to anything you just said and it took everything in you to not just flip and slap him across his stupid face.

The front door opened, Daryl walking out with his crossbow on his back, covering those angel wings on the fabric of his vest. You looked up at the sky as if thanking some kind of god for sending Daryl to save you. Though to your misfortune, he wasn’t staying for long.

“Jus’ goin’ out huntin’,” he murmured gruffly and kissed your cheek briefly, nodding towards William before walking down the street towards the gates. Your eyes trailed after him sadly while your shoulders slumped, nibbling your lip to stop yourself from calling him back.

“Uh (Y/N)? I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to pick some berries later, I could even make you a pie with them if you’d like…” William broke through your thoughts and you thought for a bit. One half of you was telling you to say no, but the other half sort of wanted to make Daryl jealous. Or at least try. Ultimately you decided on the second option, this could be fun…. right?

“Sure, later then?” You smiled at William, watching as he looked down towards your chest again, a slight scowl appearing on your face.

“Mhm… I’ll pick you up later then,” he mumbled. You immediately broke out into a smile once he looked up at you again, you just nodded before turning towards your home. Your smile dropping once you entered the house.

The hard part was getting through the afternoon with William, the aftermath with Daryl would surely be the best part.

You sat in the kitchen, doodling in your notebook as you waited for William to come pick you up. Around this time Daryl came home, removing his muddy boots knowing how much you hated when he made a mess in the house before walking into the kitchen to find you with your back to him. You could feel his gaze trail down your body, keeping still particularly around your legs, which were shown off by the shorts you were wearing. Unlike William, you quite liked when Daryl stared at you like this.

You giggled once he came up behind you and wrapped you up in his big, strong arms. Planting soft kisses along your neck and exposed shoulders. “Mmmh… ma girl dress up fer me?” He grumbled, turning your chair around to get a closer look at you. You felt a sense of pride as he bit his lip, admiring your legs, more specifically your thighs which he squeezed affectionately. You weren’t wearing anything extremely extraordinary per se, but it was new to him. You usually covered yourself up for no particular reason, maybe it was your subconscious teasing Daryl since you knew how much he loved seeing you, every part of you. You were just simply wearing a lower cut tank top along with some jean shorts you pulled up in the back of the closet.

He grunted, moving his lips underneath your jaw and planting teasing kisses there, causing you to giggle, “I didn’t dress up for you… I’m going out.” You smiled, rubbing the stubble at his jaw with your thumb.

He jerked his head back slightly, furrowing his brows. “Goin’ out without me?” He snorted jokingly, running his fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp which elicited a soft moan from you. “Sounds like you wanna stay home wit’ me…” He huffed, kissing your neck again more forcefully. His hands squeezing at your sides as if trying to convince you to stay home.

You groaned, pushing him back, his hands sliding down to your hips. As much as you’d like to stay home and continue this with him… You were on a mission. And it was to make this man in front of you get jealous. It was like your one fantasy about him, treating you like you were nothing but his. Using you to satisfy his needs, fucking you roughly…

“Sorry baby, I promised to help…” He narrowed his eyes at the nickname but shrugged it off, instead frowning. Rubbing circles into your hips.

“Who ya goin’ with?” He mumbled, burying his face into your neck. Gently pecking any skin he could get his lips on. Your shoulders shook softly as you chuckled, your fingers in his hair.

“William, he asked to help pick berries so he can bake us a pie.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about it.

“Err William, the guy you were talkin’ to earlier? The guy who has a painfully obvious crush on ya?” He furrowed his brows questioningly, was it finally working?

You rolled your eyes, “well yeah. That doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with him though, right?” He narrowed his eyes, moving his hands down to your thighs and shrugging.

“Guess so, wha’s the harm in that?” He murmured, rubbing his thumb against the flesh of your thigh. A spark of warmth pooling into your stomach at the gesture, “jus’ be careful. I trust ya, I don’ trust him though. I see the way he looks at ya.”

You sighed, slightly disappointed you couldn’t wring out a bigger reaction from him. Nodding in understanding you responded, “yeah I know. But don’t worry he’s a good guy, I can see it.” You lied smiling, hoping he wouldn’t see through you. He squinted at your defending of William, but again he shrugged it off.

“Well alrigh’, have fun then.” He kissed your cheek, removing his hands from your thighs. The warm feeling leaving you with his hands. You stood up, closing your notebook and wrapping your arms around his neck. Kissing him tenderly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kissed you back happily. His arms held you in place as his kisses moved down to your chin and onto your neck, softly suckling at the skin causing you to giggle and squeeze him back.

The knock at the door catches you both off guard, Daryl letting you go reluctantly after kissing your lips briefly. You sighed not wanting to leave him but you knew you had to if you wanted to see a jealous counterpart to your boyfriend. As you walked towards the door he gave you a small pat on your ass, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

You grinned at him before opening the door, William’s eyes immediately blazing down your figure. You could hear Daryl snort behind you causing a smirk tug at the corners of your lips. Deciding to tease Daryl a bit you chuckled at William, “like what you see?”

William was caught off guard by your comment, obviously never hearing you give in to his advances, “oh yeah very much…” You smirked, nudging William playfully.

Daryl stood still behind you, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah you bring ‘er back before 7 pm. An’ don’ try anything’,” he said jokingly, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

William straightened up, he was well aware of your relationship with Daryl but it never stopped him. “Of course… I’ll make sure she’s well… taken care off.” He hovered his hand onto the small of your back, you took the opportunity and placed his hand firmly on the area. Smirking at Daryl.

“I’ll see you later then…” You grinned, placing an arm around William’s shoulder. You cringed in your head, doing all this with William was probably fueling his desire for you. The thought sickening. But by the look on Daryl’s face, it was working. His eyes narrowed, nodding slowly while he nibbled the inside of his lip. He waved to you, keeping an eye on William’s hand on the small of your back while he shut the door to your house.

You sighed deeply now that you were alone with William, slowly moving out of his grasp discreetly. The man grinned at you which you returned with an awkward smile. Now for the hard part, actually hanging out with this guy.

After an agonizing 3 hours of picking berries while flirting with this guy he finally brought you home, after 7 pm, just so Daryl can get a bit more angry about that. You knocked on the door, hearing heavy footsteps come closer before Daryl opens the door.

“Hey… it’s like 8pm,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. You smiled, turning to William.

“Oh well I just had soooo much fun with William, he is such a great guy!” You exclaimed over enthusiastically which Daryl found odd but he shrugged it off, eyeing the man behind you. Who was licking his lips while looking down your back.

“Is that so…” Daryl mumbled skeptical of you two. The other day you were just complaining about how creepy this dude was, and now you’re talking him up like he’s the best person in this fucked up world?

Your eyes twinkled once you realized your teasing was getting to him, deciding to push it and hug William, reluctantly giving him a kiss on the cheek. He of course, hugged you back happily, his hand trailing lower down your back….

You gasped as Daryl grabbed you before William could touch you further. “Okay tha’s enough, goodbye William.” He grunted and slammed the door in his face.

You bit your lip in anticipation, looking up at Daryl who was fuming. “Hun…?”

“What the hell was that about?” He grumbled, pulling away from you. You tilted your head innocently, walking up to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked gently, running a hand down his chest. Which he grabbed forcefully, throwing it back.

“You think tha’s funny?” He growled lowly, his eyes glaring at you enraged. You chuckled, not taking this seriously because it was what you wanted. Stepping towards him with a seductive look on your face.

“Aww is my Daryl jealous?” You hummed playfully. He stared at you in disbelief, running his hand through his hair, a loud grunt escaping him as he paced the room. Your face dropped immediately, definitely not the reaction you expected.

“Tha’s what that was about? You tryna get me jealous? Yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me girl,” he spat agitated. You just stood there looking down at your fingers, not expecting this to backfire so badly. “Shoulda jus’ fucked him at that point. The asshole was practically fucking ya with his eyes.” He growled lowly, pacing around you.

“I didn’t mean to—” You started softly.

“Didn’t what?!” He yelled causing you to flinch, he rarely raised his voice at you. Just by this action alone you knew he really was angry, not just frustrated, pissed. Off.

“I just wanted to… get you angry,” you mumbled, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Well ya did, happy?” He grunted, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips. A stern look on his face, “I didn’ even care if ya wanted to hang out with the guy. But goin’ as far as to kiss and touch up on ‘im. Not fuckin’ funny. Especially when ya’ve been complainin’ about him all week, wha’s wrong with you?”

“I didn’t… actually kiss him y’know…” you argued softly, looking down ashamed of yourself.

“Not the point. It’s the fact that you, flirted, acted invitingly, and even kissed a guy on the cheek who’s been tryna get wit’ ya, invitin’ him fer more. Hence the way he almost grabbed your ass. You led him on, purposefully to get a rise outta me.” He said through gritted teeth, his gaze piercing.

You sighed, realizing how out of line you’ve been acting. Your own lustful desires leading you to act out stupidly. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for this to go this far.” You whispered, looking down embarrassed.

He took your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Fury flashing through his blue eyes, his breathing heavy. “I bet,” he grumbled, harshly letting you go before walking upstairs to your shared bedroom. You stood downstairs, beating yourself up mentally for acting like an idiot. The door to your bedroom slamming shut as Daryl locked himself up upstairs.

You groaned, digging your palms into your eyes frustratingly. Not liking the outcome of this at all, instead you were left needy, ashamed, and with your boyfriend angry at you.

A few days passed and Daryl was still rightfully so angry at you, ignoring you and giving you the cold shoulder. Still, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Was he really that angry?

You found your boyfriend outside on the front porch sharpening his knife, his muscles flexing slightly by the force he used. The longer he stayed angry at you the more desperate you got. You were practically aching for his touch, to feel him against you.

“Dar?” You said quietly, stepping out onto the porch. He didn’t turn his head but you could see his eyes shift up towards you, grumbling something you couldn’t quite make out before returning his gaze on his knife. You frowned once you realized he was ignoring you again, moving to sit down next to him, to which he immediately stood up and holstered his knife. “Can you just talk to me?” You sighed exasperated.

“Dun’ wan’ ‘ta talk.” He mumbled, stepping into the house. You followed him in, slamming the door behind you. Daryl spun around, glaring at you. “The fuck do you wan’?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Can we just talk and be fucking mature about this?”

“Yer one ‘ta talk,” he grumbled under his breath to which you rolled your eyes at.

“I said I was sorry, I really am Daryl! But you’re being so unfair, you won’t even kiss me.” You threw your arms up before running your hands through your hair, all he did was roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Whatever, you pull tha’ shit on me then you get what you get,” he grunted before turning to head into the living room. You watched your boyfriend’s back angrily as he exited from the conversation.

“Fine,” you grumbled to yourself, stomping upstairs. If he wanted to play this game then you were too, wanting to see how long it’d take for him to snap. Rummaging through your closet you decided to put on a very, very short skirt. Wondering to yourself as to why you even have this in the first place, well first time for everything. You made sure to put on a pair of panties that you knew for sure would drive Daryl crazy, finally finishing the outfit with a tight fitting tanktop. After looking at yourself in the mirror you snorted, you looked ridiculous for sure but maybe it’d work.

You made your way down the stairs quietly, walking with a little sway in your step. Daryl wasn’t shy about his attraction to your body, he loved having his hands on you so you were curious to see what he would do seeing you like this. Especially having not touched you for days now. You moved swiftly into the living room where he was sitting on the couch smoking, you felt his eyes immediately shift over to your body, a shift from where he was sitting.

“Wha’ are ya wearin’?” He grunted, his voice a slight rasp while he looked you up and down. You turned to him, a small smirk playing at the corner of your lips.

“It’s a little hot today… s’all.” You chuckled, moving towards the disc rack. It held a lot of cds for music, the two of you never played anything because of how outdated it was but you went over to look at it anyway. Hearing the way he choked once you bent over to check out the bottom of the rack. You moved onto your knees, reaching under the rack to grab, nothing. There was nothing under the rack, but his breathing was getting heavier and you knew he would give in soon.

You sat on your knees, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him. Smiling once you met his eyes, he was already looking at you with parted lips. His cigarette sat between his index and middle finger, nothing but a mere object as he already forgotten about it. His leg crossed over the other while his eyes started at your own, slowly moving down to your lips. Then the swell of your neck, down your back, and of course over to your ass which was peaking out from under your skirt. He swallowed thickly when he noticed the lace fabric of your panties, contrasting beautifully with the colour of your skin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, from the look in his eyes you knew he was aroused. You just had to push him further to get him to actually act on it…

You stood up slowly, making sure to flash him a little of your panties. He coughed, putting out the cigarette as you walked up to him. Slow and seductive. However he kept his eyes ahead, you would’ve scoffed if you were still in a mood but you were far too aroused to do all that. He was stubborn and you praised him for it, after all you were both the same. You lightly traced your fingers up his forearm, towards his bicep, and then over his shoulder. Standing behind him as you leaned down next to his ear, “what’s that look for?” You whispered low and sultry.

“Wha’ do you think yer doin’?” He murmured quietly, his breathing shortening. You smirked, placing a soft kiss under his ear, his breath hitching as you do that. “(Y/N).” He said lowly, your hands moving from his shoulders and down the front of his chest, slowly making your way down to his belt. Looking over his shoulder and noticing the huge bulge in his pants, a sense of pride flowing through your body at the effect you had on him. He uncrossed his legs due to the tightness in his pants, groaning softly as your hands moved down towards his thighs, teasingly avoiding his erection.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered in his ear, causing him to shudder back onto the couch. His breathing shallow and hot while one of your hands moved towards the erection.

“Don’t.” He muttered, grabbing your wrist. He flicked your hand back away from his crotch, suddenly getting up and turning to face you. His eyes were narrowed and full of fury, but most importantly. Lust.

His piercing blue eyes looked at you with a hungry gaze, stepping around the couch to stand closer to you. Nibbling the inside of his lip as he stared at you, especially your exposed thighs. He abruptly picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder carelessly, causing you to shout out in protest. “Daryl! Put me down!”

”Shut it.” He growled lowly which for sure shut you up quickly. He moved through the house with ease, walking up the stairs and making his way towards your shared bedroom. His fingers dug into your thighs possessively which drew out your excitement even more, wondering what he would do to you. He walked into the bedroom with you over his shoulders, shutting the door with his foot and throwing you onto the bed, eliciting a small yelp from you. Your eyes were wide when you met his own, his jaw clenched at the sight of you laying on the bed in the provocative outfit. He grunted, crawling onto the bed and up to you. Rough and calloused hands gripping onto your thighs as he pushed them apart, a raspy groan leaving his mouth as he saw your soaked panties. “This whatcha’ want?” He murmured with a hint of amusement, running a finger over your slick covered panties.

“Daryl,” you gasped, closing your eyes. His free hand shot up to grab your face harshly, your eyes opening in shock.

“You look at me, ya ain’t gettin’ outta this one easily girl.” He drawled, letting go of your face as he removed his finger from your panties, “and I don’ wanna hear a word from tha’ pretty little mouth of yours unless I say so, ya hear me?” You nodded slowly as you met his intense gaze.

“Good girl,” he murmured which had you throbbing around nothing. His hands grabbed at the collar of your tanktop, ripping it off your body easily. You gasped, wanting to scold him for ripping it but you kept quiet as to not anger him even more. His eyes rolled back in arousal when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra underneath the top, “such a fuckin’ tease.” His hands groped at your breasts, your nipples hardening under his touch as you let out a quiet moan. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on one of them, licking around the bud before biting down harshly. A loud groan left your lips, causing him to growl and pull away.

Your eyes searched for his while you panted softly from the loss, his hands gripping your waist and flipping you over onto your stomach before grabbing your hips and lifting them up so your ass hung up in the air. “Hold yerself up baby,” he grunted. You did as you were told, placing your hands underneath you and onto the bed while pushing yourself up so you were on your hands and knees. Blushing profusely from the position you were in, trying to turn your head to look back at him. He slapped your ass once, a groan escaping you at the contact before his hands started pulling off your skirt, tossing it onto the floor haphazardly leaving you in your lace panties.

He sat up on his knees, teasingly running two fingers over the waistband, lifting it off your skin only to let it go and have it snap against your hips. You jolted slightly, one of his hands rubbing your ass softly before slapping it again. He leaned closer towards your ear, biting your earlobe before whispering gruffly, “don’ think ‘m gonna be gentle tonight. No, you got yerself into this.”

You whimpered as he pulled away, a big hand grabbing at the crotch of your panties and ripping them apart. The same hand running its fingers through your slick causing you to moan, your arms shaking momentarily. It didn’t take long before two thick fingers plunged themselves into your tight entrance, the sudden intrusion causing you to cry out, “Daryl! Wait!”

“Shut up,” he grunted. Forcing his fingers in and out of you roughly, the pain mixed with pleasure only made you wetter, groaning softly. The obscene noises of his fingers thrusting into you at that speed echoed through the small space of your bedroom, your moans getting louder as you got closer to your orgasm.

But just as you were about to reach that sweet release he yanked his fingers out of you, bringing them up to you and shoving them into your mouth. Immediately your tastebuds were met with the taste of your own arousal, “suck.” He growled lowly to which you obliged, sucking on his fingers that were covered in your juices. He groaned as your tongue slithered between his two fingers in your mouth, reaching down to adjust himself in his pants.

He removed his fingers, moving behind you once more and giving you a little tap on your bum. While you kept your head straight forward, looking at the wooden headboard. You heard the clink of his belt being undone, soon pulled out of his belt loops. You breathed heavily out of your nose once you heard the sound of the belt being tossed aside, hitting the floor with a slight thud. The heat pooling between your legs was getting hotter, throbbing with need as you waited patiently. Your arms were burning from holding yourself up while your stomach swirled with anxiety and excitement.

You heard him shuffle behind you, his pants soon joining the rest of the garments on the floor. His eyes were on you the entire time, though you couldn't see it, you could feel it. By the way his breathing deepened seeing your pussy clench at nothing, the way a low purr sounded from the back of his throat, and the way your skin burned from his lustful gaze. When it got a little too silent you turned your head back, you eyes immediately meeting his. He peered at you through his eyebrows, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up over his elbows. Biting your lip when you saw his forearms, sprinkled with random tattoos here and there. Ones you’d kiss over when he'd make gentle love to you, but it would be different this time.

You couldn't look any lower from the position you were in, settling to look back at the headboard. Which had definitely seen better days. A small gasp left your lips when his large hands suddenly grabbed at your hips, engulfing them completely. His touch wasn't gentle. His calloused hands rubbed at your hips harshly, squeezing and pinching your sides resulting in you mewling softly from the tinge of pain. Suddenly, a slap sounded through the room as his thick cock landed on your ass. A low groan escaping him as he slowly rocked himself against you, rubbing his length between your asscheeks.

“Daryl….” You whined, moving your hips back against his cock. His hand made contact with your ass again, the slap echoing through the room as he pulled his cock away from your ass.

“Wha’ did I say?” He drawled lowly, rubbing the area he just smacked, spanking you once more causing you to jolt. “Answer me.”

You whimpered at the sting, your skin turning a bright red. “No speaking unless asked…”

He spanked you again on the same buttock, eliciting a moan from you this time. “See? Ya know the rules so why do ya not listen?” He tutted you, hitting your other buttock. He sighed, placing his thumbs on the folds of your pussy, spreading them and teasing a finger at your entrance. Just circling it around, not entering you. “Yer such a bad girl.”

You whined, trying to push back on his fingers, desperate for something to ease the ache in your core. He pulled back once again, slapping your pussy. The action sending a wave of pleasure through your body though it was harsh, a quiet mewl slipping out your mouth. Your arms were slowly getting tired of holding yourself up, moving down to your elbows which made your back arch. He grunted, running a hand down your back and into your hair before suddenly gripping it, pulling you up harshly against his chest. You cried out in pain, his lips against your ear while his fingers remained gripped in your hair. “Yer not listening again. I told ya to hold yerself up, so do it.”

He threw you back down, your eyes teary as you placed your hands down again to hold yourself up. His hands found place on your hips again, the rough feel of his palm against your skin made you shiver. One hand left you to grab his cock, teasing it around your clit. “Ya wan’ me to fuck ya, don’cha?” He murmured teasingly after hearing your impatient whines. He chuckled, finding your desperation amusing. “This is wha’ ya wanted, isn’ it?” He slapped the tip of his cock upwards against your clit, your wetness only fueling the sensation further.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he murmured, circling his tip around your entrance. The longer he teased you, the more you were willing to speak up. You moved back on him, his cock slipping into you slightly before he hissed and pulled out.

“Jesus fucking christ can you just fuck me already?” You snapped, earning a spank from him once again. You groaned, already sick of his teasing. “Daryl if you don’t—”

He suddenly shoved his whole length into you, the stretch painful as he started thrusting in and out of you hard. Not giving you any time to adjust to his size, crying out. “If I don’? Yer just gonna find someone else to fuck ya?” He growled gruffly, his hips snapping against yours.

Pleasure soon overpowered the pain, a loud moan ripping itself out of you. He groaned in response, squeezing your hips as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, making an erotic symphony that heightened the both of your arousals. “Not gonna answer me? You’d jus’ let anyone fuck ya huh?” He grunted, the tip of his dick hitting closer towards your sweet spot.

You cried out once again, tears of pleasure brimming at your waterline, shaking your head at his question. Your fingers gripped onto the bedsheets below you, your biceps burning which made you just want to drop down onto the bed while he fucked you senseless. His fingers found themselves in your hair again, tugging you upwards so your back was against his chest, growling into your ear.

“Wha’ was tha’? You’d let anyone fuck ya, righ’?” He grunted, thrusting up into your sweet spot, eliciting a loud whine out of you. “Yer such a filthy slut, ya know tha’?” He bit at your neck, leaving a mark that was going to be hard to cover.

You clenched around his cock at his words, shaking your head slightly while he tugged your head back further against his shoulder. “No…” You moaned weakly, the pain from him pulling your hair was even more arousing than you thought. The tears in your eyes spilling over and down your cheeks.

“Yeah yer mine… This pussy?” He mumbled, reaching down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, your back arching as you cried out in ecstasy. “This pussy is mine, only mine ya hear me?” He let out a primal growl, tugging your hair once more.

“Yes! Yes Daryl only yours!” You cried out pathetically, your walls clamping down on his cock as it moved in and out of you at a punishing speed. He grunted approvingly, releasing his grip on your hair which caused you to fall over, landing straight onto your face into the pillows. His hands then gripping at your ribcage, just under your breasts as he pounded deep into you, hitting that same spot over and over again. “Fuck… Oh shit, Daryl..” You whined into the pillows, the bed creaking under the movements.

He pulled you up again, his hands still under your breasts while he whispered in your ear. “Ya gonna be a good slut for me now?” He grunted lowly, you nodded vigorously as moans continued to escape your mouth. “No one can fuck you like I can.” And with that he held you just enough to push himself deeper into you, making sure you feel every inch of his cock invading your tight heat.

The small space of your bedroom soon shifted into a safe, intimate haven in which you two created. Full of your moans and his grunts, skin slapping against skin, while the bed rocked under your movements. You felt a familiar feeling building up and you knew you were close, clenching around him as your moans got whinier and breathy.

He groaned, feeling your walls tighten around him, thrusting deeper into you. You whined at the feeling, anticipating the soreness you’d feel in the morning. “Daryl…” You whined, “I’m gonna cum.”

He growled, pulling you up against his chest again, a hand near your throat while the other moved between your thighs. “Ya really think ya deserve to cum?” He groaned, his breathing a little ragged from his own orgasm building up. His fingers moved to play at your clit again, tugging it as he thrusted sloppily into you. “Go on.”

You mewled softly, turning your head to his. He grunted, his lips meeting yours messily. Shoving his tongue into your mouth and exploring the depths of it while bringing you both closer to the edge. You bit his lip, earning a whimper from him as your walls clenched around his cock, reaching your climax. His hands jumped up to your breasts while you screamed in ecstasy, pulling your nipples while speeding up his pace.

Your back arched, the pleasure getting overwhelming as he continued to delve deeper, abusing that sweet spot inside of you. “Fuck! Daryl too much!” You cried, reaching back and grabbing his hips. But it didn’t stop him.

“I told ya, ya aren’ gettin’ out of this easily,” he grunted, his hips maintaining his pace while you felt something else squirt out of you. The slippery liquid slipped out of your pussy, slithering down the base of his cock and onto the bedsheets. A rough moan tearing through your throat before collapsing down onto the bed, feeling him pump his cum into you.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, stilling inside of you as he emptied out inside your cunt. He chuckled, pulling out of you and letting the rest of your body fall onto the now wet sheets. “Haven’t seen ya do that before,” he sighed, patting your ass before falling down next to you. “Ya got wha’cha wanted?”

You looked at him tiredly, the tears on your face dried, your voice too hoarse to even respond. Settling for a gentle nod and a small, “I win.” He chuckled, shaking his head before leaning back and closing his eyes. He was also extremely exhausted.

You lay there, unable to move and felt his cum slowly drip out of you. It almost felt uncomfortable but you couldn’t be bothered to get up and clean yourself, wanting to lay there and sink into the sheets. You sighed contently, scooting closer to him and burying your face into his chest. He grumbled, his arm wrapping itself lazily over your waist. You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes as you felt the rush of satisfaction. Sure you were going to feel absolute pain once you woke up, and maybe you wouldn’t be able to walk or speak for a while. Nevertheless you had finally got yourself fucked rough by a jealous Daryl, who was no longer mad and pushing you away. The issues led up to something amazing for the both of you. Maybe you should get him angry more often.

[ninus9607]

To love a witch pt2 - Wanda Maximoff

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x Female! Vampire reader

Word count: 6.1k

tags: l content: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Vampire!Reader, Slow Burn Romance, Dark Themes, Blood & Violence, age-gap, Morally Grey Protagonist, Supernatural Abilities, Blood Drinking

The story contains graphic violence, dark themes, and slightly possessive behavior

AN: Hiii guyss! here's the second parttt i hope u liked itt, alsooo sorry about every mistake I finished this at 4am ahhahah alsooo 3rd part asap.

xx

Avengers Tower, a few weeks later...

The mood in the Avengers meeting room was terrible.

Thick glass and steel walls couldn't contain the storm that was rising between those who sat around the long table.

Steve walked the length of the room, his heavy boots slamming against the floor with each step,

"She's gone too far this time," Steve muttered, eventually pausing with his palms firmly planted against the tabletop. "Another building has been destroyed. Twelve men died. Three of them are security guards with families. "How long are we going to let this happen?"

Tony Stark leaned casually against the wall, a glass of bourbon in hand, but his eyes lacked the typical glint of irony. "It's not like she's taking out Girl Scouts, Cap," he observed dryly. "Most of those men had deep ties to Hydra, were protected by fake firms, and had clean records. Do you think the government would have intervened in this situation? We both know they won't."

Steve turned, "She isn't a vigilante, Tony. She's a murderer. And every time we let her slip past our grasp, she leaves another body behind."

Natasha pulled away from the window, having remained silent up to that point. "He's right," she admitted, folding her arms. "I warned you the night we saw her at the gala- she doesn't stop. It is not in her nature."

"She's hunting people worse than monsters," Wanda said finally, her voice calm but alarming. The tension in the room increased like static before a thunderstorm. "People who have done unbelievable things that will keep you awake at night. She is cleaning up messes that your governments pretend do not exist."

"By burning down half the city in the process?" Steve shot back.

"Because no one else will."

A deep, strange hush settled over the room. The team had always understood what you were: a beast that formed centuries ago in bloody warfare, improved into something both deadly and beautiful. They knew when Wanda stood for her that they were betting on more than just politics. They were gambling with their lives.

"I got a call from Ross this morning," Tony explained gently, swirling the dark liquid in his glass. "They are putting together an operation team. And, before you ask, it's not one of ours."

Steve muttered under his breath.

"We have to find her before they do," Natasha replied, looking at Wanda.

Wanda tightened her grip on the chain around her neck,

"I can reach her," Wanda said quietly.

"She's not going to listen to you," Steve warned.

"You're wrong," Wanda murmured softly, but her confidence was fading.

"She's had weeks to come here. She has not. You think that was an accident?"

"She's confused," Wanda said.

Tony snorted. "Kid, this is exactly what she is. The question is whether we can use it to our advantage or if we will end up burying a teammate."

Wanda's stomach twisted. No one else saw how her fingers trembled as she placed them against the table's edge.

"I still believe in her," she murmured, sounding more like a prayer this time.

Steve shifted his gaze away. Natasha just sighed.

"You're acting as if she's the problem," Pietro hissed, his Sokovian accent wrapping around the words like a knife. "You forget the kind of people she's taking out."

"No one's forgetting anything," Steve said, his tone strict but not harsh. "But there is a line, Pietro. And she crossed it."

"She's doing your job for you."

"And people are dying," Steve explained solemnly. "People who don't deserve it."

Natasha sighed and leaned back in her chair. "She is unpredictable. Unstable."

Wanda's voice sliced across the room, "She won't hurt me."

Tony scoffed, "Okay, witchy. Here is my question: What is your genius plan? What, you're just going to walk up to her, bat those pretty eyes, and poof... vampire killer becomes house pet?"

"I'll find her," Wanda stated, her Sokovian accent increasing with the weight of her words.

"And then what?" Steve inquired, calmer now. "Wanda... I need to know you've thought this through."

"I have," she replied, and her expression softened for a short period. "I know what she is. But I also understand who I was. A threat. A liability. Dangerous. You did not give up on me."

"That was different," Steve remarked.

"Was it?" Wanda replied quietly. "Or did you just decide I was worth saving?"

Steve took a moment to stare down, his jaw hard, before returning his gaze to her. "You are. You still are."

"Then trust me when I say she is, too."

Pietro grinned as he leaned against the wall. "Well, isn't this touching?"

Tony pointed his finger at him. "Don't push it, Speedy."

"Fact is," Pietro said, ignoring him, "everyone in this room has blood on their hands. But because it is hers, you are prepared to fight."

"She's not stopping," Natasha replied. "You don't understand it. She will not."

"I'll make her,"

Tony sighed and rubbed his palm across his face. "Look... as much as it physically pains me to say this, she's got a point."

Steve lifted his eyebrow. "You're siding with Wanda?"

"I'm siding with not having half of NYC demolished by a pissed-off woman," Tony quipped. "If Maximoff's the only one who can reel her in, we let her try."

Wanda's lips formed a stiff, humorless smile. "Stark, don't get comfortable. I still hate you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, " Tony replied, raising his glass in a false toast.

Steve exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "Wanda, you have one shot at this. One. But if you go too deep"

"I won't."

"Then go," Steve said softly.

Wanda gave him a small nod, and without another word, turned for the door, Pietro on her heels.

With a slight push, the door clicked open, and Wanda walked inside, shoulders sagging from yet another disagreement. Steve's disappointed sighs and Tony's angry words were still playing on repeat in her thoughts, as was the tension she had felt earlier. All she needed was silence so she could think about the plan.

But, of course, fate would not let her do that.

"Finally," a familiar voice said from the direction of her bed. "Took you long enough, сестрa."

Wanda blinked, surprised to see Pietro spread out lazily across her bed, one arm behind his head, a smug grin written across his face like a bright light.

"What are you doing in my room?" she groaned, throwing her jacket onto a chair.

He let the stillness last, his hitting stare never leaving her face, looking at every flicker of emotion she tried to hide. Then, in an almost sadistic tone, he said:

"Y/N?"

Wanda scowled instantly, her cheeks burning up wildly. "Pfft. What about her?"

Pietro's grin spread like wildfire, slowly.  "Oh, come on. That was the worst acting I had ever seen. And I've seen you pretend to like Vision's cooking."

"Shut up."

He laughed and sat up, elbows on his knees. "I knew it. I knew you had a thing for ladies; don't attempt to deny it. But a vampire assassin, сестра? That's bold, even for you."

Wanda crossed her arms, attempting to fight off the flush creeping up her neck. "She's not just"

"A total stranger you've shared maybe three conversations with?" Pietro finished for her while grinning. "Yeah, no, sounds like the perfect base for a relationship."

"I never said"

"You did not have to. I can see it on your face. "It is written on your soul, little sister." He smiled widely, with a taunting glitter in his eyes. "You're gone for her."

"I hate you," Wanda whispered.

"Love you too."

For a moment, the joking faded into calm sibling harmony. Then Pietro cocked his head. "So... what's the plan?"

Wanda paused, biting on her bottom lip, her defenses down.

"I'm going to find her," she said, her voice low. "And when I do... I'll bring her back."

Pietro snorted. "Figures. You've never been good at letting things go."

"I'm serious."

"I know," he replied, rising up and ruffling her hair as he passed. "That's what makes it fun."

"So," he drawled, "are you going to tell me what brilliant plan you've created, or should I just guess?" Let me see... stalking your vampire girlfriend?"

Wanda grumbled and flopped onto the bed alongside him. "She's not my girlfriend."

He grinned. "Yet."

"Pietro."

Wanda glared at him while he chuckled.

"I'm serious," she mumbled. "I have a lead."

That made him sit up a little straighter. "Oh?"

"There's a gathering tomorrow night in the old district. Arms dealers, black market traders... and a contact swears she'll be there. Alone."

Pietro took a deep breath. "That's risky."

"I can handle it."

He snorted and shook his head. "You always were stubborn."

Wanda smirked. "Runs in the family."

He stood and ruffled her hair before she could slap him away. "Okay, alright. But if you get yourself murdered, I'm going to be annoyed."

"Noted."

When he looked back, he was about halfway to the door. "And for the record — still terrible taste."

"Goodnight, Pietro."

You hear quiet footsteps behind you before she speaks. You don't have to turn around to recognize her.

"You're late," you say, your voice quiet and slightly mocking.

Wanda reaches view, hands put in the pockets of her jacket, face guarded but not cold. You can see nervousness in her eyes, despite her best efforts to seem calm.

"Didn't realize you were waiting," she says.

You smirk. "I always know when someone's looking for me."

There is a moment of silence between you that neither of you seems willing to break. The tension remains thick and biting, just as it has since that night. You try not to think about how good she looks under these streetlights, but you do. Of course you do.

"I didn't come here to fight," she explains.

"They could have fooled me. I expected you and your small team would have kicked in my door by now."

"I came alone."

You narrow your eyes. Brave. Or foolish. Perhaps both.

"Dangerous choice, sweetheart."

She shrugs and takes a step forward. "I can handle myself."

That makes you smile. God, she's stubborn. And for some reason, you enjoy it.

"Then why are you here?" you ask.

"I want you to stop."

This takes you off guard more than it should. You raise an eyebrow. "Stop what exactly? Doing what I am good at?"

"You're not like them."

You gave a quiet laugh and shook your head.

"I think you've got me confused with someone else, Maximoff," you comment, resting against the wall as if you have all the time in the universe. "I don't do the hero thing. I don't play nicely. And I definitely don't take commands."

Wanda does not flinch. If anything, she moves closer.

"I'm not asking you to be a hero," she explains calmly. "I'm asking you to stop killing people who don't deserve it."

You tilt your head and study her face. That beautiful accent wrapping around her words. Her jaw tightens when she tries to remain calm. It's frustratingly charming.

"And who decides who deserves it, huh? You? Stark? The government?" You smirk. "I have seen enough of the world to know that no one is innocent. Not even you"

Wanda's eyes spark with a mix of rage and other emotions. It causes a rise in your pulse.

"I never said I was."

You grin. "Good. Would've hated to ruin that perfect little illusion."

There's a long pause, tension thick between you. You should leave. She should leave. Neither of you moves.

"I'm not here to save you," Wanda says after a beat. "But you could be more than this. You don't have to be their weapon."

"I'm my own weapon," you shoot back. " I like it that way."

And you do. The blood. The freedom. The chaos. You've made peace with it a long time ago. There's no guilt left in you. Only hunger.

"You don't have to trust them," Wanda continues, her voice lower now, her gaze fixed on yours. "Hell, you don't even have to trust me."

You raise an eyebrow. "Then what exactly are you offering, Maximoff?"

She hesitates for a second. It's short, so most people would miss it. But you do. She's good, but you've been reading people longer than she's been alive.

"I'm offering you a choice," she continues. "Stop running. Stop hiding behind whatever nonsense you are telling yourself. Do you want blood? Fine. But use it for something important."

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. "And what, I join your little club of morally confused misfits? Fight for some cause I don't believe in because you asked nicely?"

"I'm not asking nicely," Wanda says, stepping in close now. Too close. "I'm asking because whether you want to admit it or not... you're tired. Of all of it."

You clear your throat, and the grin slides back into place. "You talk like you know me."

"Maybe I do."

"You don't."

Another beat of silence. Her lips curled into a knowing scowl.

"I'm starting to."

You look aside, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, then return to her. "Say I'm considering it. What makes you think I won't turn on you the moment things get boring?"

"I don't," she responds casually. "But I'm willing to take that risk."

God, she's reckless. Stupidly brave. And you kinda love it.

You gave a quiet, humorless chuckle, your eyes narrowing as you closed the gap between you and Wanda again. She was close enough to feel the icy edge of your power sliding in the air around her if she looked closely.

"I could kill you right now," you say quietly, a wicked smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Right here, without anyone even hearing you scream."

Wanda does not flinch. Does not even blink.

"If you wanted to," she tilted her head to the side, "you would've already done it."

And it's frustrating because she's right.

You stare at her, jaw tight, a hundred conflicting things racing through your mind hunger, anger, that goddamn spark of something you can't name or get rid of when it comes to her. She isn't afraid of you. And that's dangerous.

Your fingers flex at your side before you step back with a frustrated scoff, running your tongue across your fangs like it might bite back the irritation.

"Maybe," you mutter, the word foreign and reluctant on your tongue. The closest thing to a concession you've given anyone in centuries.

Wanda's lips twitch like she knows it, too.

You reach for her hand. Take it gently, you place a lingering kiss on her hand, your eyes fixed on hers the entire time.

"Goodbye, Miss Maximoff," you say softly against her skin.

Then, like mist in the night, you vanish.

That night, you and Wanda couldn't sleep....

2:03 AM, Avengers Tower... two days later

The alert sounded as if the world was ending. Red lights flashed across the peaceful tower's walls, and doors slammed open one by one as half-asleep Avengers flooded into the corridor, guns ready.

Steve was already in full Captain mode, shield raised.

"Who the hell is breaking in at two in the goddamn morning?" Tony grumbled, his suit half-deployed and his hair sticking up as if he were in a dream.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.," Steve said. "Where?"

"Kitchen level, unauthorized entry detected."

"Kitchen?" Wanda mumbled, falling into stride with Pietro, whose hair was a jumble, and his eyes were drowsy yet keen.

They turned a corner.

And there you were.

Leaning against the kitchen island as if you owned the place, hair perfect, a wonderful expensive satin shirt half-unbuttoned, legs crossed at the ankle, sipping red wine as if you'd just walked in from an underground jazz club. The refrigerator door was open, and a trail of food was scattered across the counter, including several luxury pastries, a stolen bottle of Tony's best whiskey, and a blood bag from medical storage.

What is the best part? You were chewing something.

"What the actual hell," Tony began.

You stuck up a finger, still chewing, and took a plate off the counter. "Who cooked this?"

You asked casually, pointing with the fork to a strange, gelatinous gray mass that smelled of damp paper and despair.

"That'd be Vision," Steve mumbled.

"Figures," you exhaled deeply, spitting the bite onto a paper towel. "Jesus, you guys let a robot cook? "No wonder you're all so tense."

Pietro snorted before Wanda elbowed him again.

"Why are you here?" Natasha replied, her tone so harsh it could cut glass.

You didn't even flinch, simply finishing the rest of your wine. "To chat," you said with a smirk. "Maybe a snack. You know how it is."

"You broke in," Steve hissed, moving forward.

"I do that," you said with a shrug. "Don't act so shocked."

The alarm finally turned off, leaving a strange silence as the red lights faded back to normal.

You slowly set down the wine glass, your stare fixed on Wanda like a hunter who has just spotted her favorite prey. "Relax, Miss Maximoff," you murmured. "I'm not here to kill your friends."

"Could have fooled me," Tony murmured.

"Oh, if I wanted to," you told him with a harsh grin, "they'd be dead before the alarm went off."

You sighed, as though you were already bored. "Let's remove the dramatics. I am here because you would not stop sending people after me. It's becoming annoying."

"Then stop murdering people," Steve shouted.

You tilted your head, mockingly offended. "I only murder extremely cruel folks. Or extremely boring ones. Which, depending on how this conversation develops, may include you."

A beat of quiet.

Wanda moved forward, her Sokovian accent softly curling over your name. "Y/N."

And, God, the way she said it. It instantly triggered your hunger and long-buried humanity. You despised it and loved it at the same time. You may have drowned in it.

"Save it, I don't give speeches."

"Then what do you do?" Natasha asked coldly.

You grabbed another piece of Vision's weird culinary experiment, sniffed it, made a face, and hurled it straight into the trash without a word.

Pietro outright laughed this time.

"Conference room," you said, swiftly rising up as if you hadn't just insulted half the team's cooking and threatened to murder the other half. "Now."

Tony lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

You flashed him a lazy smile. "Or I will begin renovating your beloved tower with the guts of whoever is nearest. Your call, Stark."

Natasha moved first, which was typical. Silent and threatening, with a careful regard in her eyes.

The others followed one by one, complaining or frowning but with a tinge of curiosity on their faces. Wanda lingered in the doorway as you passed, her eager green eyes tracking your every movement. You did not look at her.

With a loud thud, you dumped an overstuffed black leather folder onto the table. A few stray photographs and bloodstained documents flew across the glass surface, including crime scene photos, ledgers, coded communications, and the faces of those who had died by your hand.

"Here," you said simply.

Then, like the total threat you were, you dragged a chair back, kicked your boots up onto the table, pulled a blood bag from your jacket pocket, and took a casual sip via a straw, as if this were a brunch date.

Steve grimaced.

"Dramatic," Tony mumbled.

You tilted your head. "That," you motioned to the pile of paperwork, "is the complete inside story of the Donaletti family—human trafficking, arms smuggling, contract killings, underground operations in five countries. Or should I say was? They won't bother you anymore."

Wanda blinked. "You... took down the Donalettis?"

"In a night," you replied, comfortably twisting the bag between your fingers. "Boss, soldiers, hired muscle, and the accountant- poof. "As if they never existed."

"Why?" Steve's voice was low.

You grinned, your teeth slightly sharper than usual. "I was bored. And you guys wouldn't quit following me."

Natasha sorted through the files, inspecting them. "This is solid data."

"Of course it is. I am many things, sweetheart, but sloppy is not one of them."

Steve's voice was harsh. "Why are you giving us this, Y/N?"

You did not respond right away. Before reaching for your blood bag, take a cautious, deliberate sip. The squish of the plastic in the dead quiet room caused Tony to move in his chair.

You slapped the bag down on their clean conference table, putting a smudge on some unfortunate intern's printed report. Then you smiled.

"Because," you said softly, "this isn't the end, lads and girls. Not even close."

Tony lifted an eyebrow. "You gonna explain, or should we just assume you're here for dramatic effect?"

"Oh, goatee," you groaned, "While taking apart Donaletti's small playhouse, I stumbled on something worse. A cult. The kind of thing your government likes to pretend doesn't exist. They're here, in this city. And trust me, you want them dead."

"Why bring it to us?" Steve demanded.

Your eyes glowed, "I need something. And you're the only ones foolish enough—or desperate enough—to give it to me."

Tony furrowed his brow. "What kind of something?"

You allowed the silence to last a beat too long. Then you spoke, your voice velvet-soft yet ice-cold.

"Diplomatic immunity."

Steve's face stiffened. "You're out of your goddamn mind."

"I want to be untouchable," you continued, still calm, still smiling. "I want every bounty, every warrant, every record of me erased. I want access to your protected databases and the freedom to kill whoever the hell I please, as long as it isn't one of you. And in return, I'll hand you the biggest threat this world's ever seen. You'll get your cult, your conspiracies, your bloodless little world peace... and I'll get my freedom."

Tony actually laughed, a short, humorless sound. "Jesus Christ. You're asking us to hand you a goddamn license to murder."

You stood, slow and smooth, gathering your files and blood bag. "Oh, Stark, I don't need a license. I just like watching you suffer."

"Forty-eight hours," you whispered, your gaze moving across the strained faces in the room. "Decide if you want your world burned... or cleaned."

You slid a sleek black card out of your pocket and onto the table. The number shone under the light. No name. No hint of identity.

"For when you're ready to beg."

Steve scowled. Tony rolled his eyes.

And then you turned to Wanda. The room felt heavier, as if the air had thickened. You took out a single blood-red rose, a thin black ribbon wrapped around its stem, and a short letter hanging from it.

You took a step closer, the brush of your fingertips intentional, and placed the flower in her hand.

"Para ti, mi amor," you said softly.

(For you, my love)

Wanda's breath caught, and her gaze met yours - no fear, no hesitation.

You smirked and took a step back, saluting everyone in the room with two fingers.

"Tick-tock, Avengers."

And then you were gone.

The stillness was dense until Pietro smirked at his sister. "Ты попaла, сестра," he teased.                                       (You're screwed, sister,)

Wanda said nothing but stared at the rose, tightening her fingers around the stem.

In the weeks that followed, everything changed...

You were officially a consultant - an external resource, according to the documentation. In practice? You were the person they called when things were so bad that no one else wanted to touch them. Assassinations, sabotage, and covert activities unrelated to the Avengers. You handled the dirt as if it were nothing.

A compromise has been made. The offer is accepted. They didn't want to, but they had no choice. You'd presented them with something they couldn't pass up: the leader of a crime empire on a silver platter, along with knowledge on a violent underground cult that made Hydra look like amateurs. You made yourself indispensable.

At first, the team barely spoke with you. You were a ghost in their universe, always present when they needed you, but gone before they could decide how they felt about it. But things gradually changed.

Natasha was the first to crack. She appreciated effectiveness, and you were nothing if not efficient. You'd cross paths in conference rooms and hallways, exchanging dry remarks as a wordless understanding developed between two people who'd seen and done far too much.

People who had witnessed and experienced much too much.

Tony despised how good you were. Hated the fact that when no one else could provide results, you could walk into a room and have it done in minutes – violent, brutal. "She's a walking PR disaster," he complained one night, sipping whiskey. However, he still invited you to his lab when he needed old-world expertise about cult symbols or ancient blood rituals.

Steve was cooler. Every time you walked into a room, you could feel his suspicion. You did not blame him. You did not care either.

And then there was Wanda.

God, Wanda.

She surprised you. Not only did she look at you as if she could see every broken part of you, but she also did not flinch. She was not afraid. Even when you casually mentioned cutting out a man's throat in an alleyway, she simply arched an eyebrow, as if challenging you to surprise her.

Late-night planning meetings were your favorites. Most of the team would be asleep or avoiding you, leaving only you and her in the conference room, paperwork spread out, blood bag in your hand, and coffee in hers.

Wanda mocked you about your fascination with classical literature. You called her a youngster because she didn't know what a phonograph was. She accused you of dramatics; you accused her of terrible taste in movies.

There was tension. Thick. Electric. Not just because you were meant to be on opposite sides of the moral range, but because, despite all odds, you found yourself yearning to be near her.

You've stopped avoiding the tower. You started leaving your blood bags in their refrigerator. Tony protested, Clint made vampire jokes, and Natasha simply shook her head.

And Wanda? Wanda kept popping up.

Some evenings, you found yourself on the Tower's balcony well past midnight, feeling the world change under you. Wanda would show up as a ghost by your side, no words necessary.

Pietro, of course, noticed first. He'd nudge Wanda, smirking and mumbling jokes about her "little vampire problem." She hexed him frequently.

The invitation to Tony Stark's infamous party had arrived wrapped in as much glitter as the man himself.

You arrive at Stark's gala dressed in shadows and silk, every step precise and every movement showing the confidence that only power and money can provide. You want to be noticed on your own terms.

Heads turn as you glide through the room, but you're too used to having eyes on you to be afraid. Wanda is easy to spot—her posture is rigid, her eyes flit uncomfortably to Pietro, who is sitting at the bar with that terrible sneer on his lips. Pietro always manages to rile her up.

Wanda gives him a pointed glance, her cheeks swollen slightly, but you can see a little spark of curiosity in her eyes.

Before you can take another sip of your wine, Wanda approaches, strolling purposefully but with a tinge of nervousness.

"Miss Y/N," she adds, her voice soft but full of weight, "I believe I owe you a dance."

You bend your head and allow that slow, seductive smile to spread across your lips. "Is that right, Miss Maximoff? I don't think I could turn down a request like that."

She gently grabs your hand, and the world narrows to just the two of you. The music builds, and you allow yourself to be drawn onto the dance floor.

You're not sure when one dance blossomed into two... Then four, then the whole night.

Maybe it was because Wanda's hand lingered just a second too long against your shoulder. Perhaps it was the teasing look you wore as you drew her closer during a slow waltz. Or perhaps it was because neither of you wanted to admit what this was becoming.

The party around you kept spinning: drinks poured, laughter rang, and glasses clinked. But for you, there was just Wanda.

You'd exchange scathing remarks between turns, quietly enough for only the other to hear.

The music eventually faded, the guests walked away, and the Avengers were the only ones remaining, sprawled across couches in different states of tiredness and tipsy contentment.

You lie out on one of Stark's extremely priced couches as if you owned it -  because, why not? Wanda plopped down next to you, Pietro nearby, Tony nursing a drink, and Steve loosening his tie as if it were the most rebellious thing he'd done in years.

"So..." Tony started by elevating his brow. "I guess we survived another party. Barely."

"Speak for yourself," you said, smirking as you reached for the glass someone had left behind. "I could go another round."

He slapped his hands together with a way too big grin for the hour, his tie loose around his neck, and a drink in his hand. "Alright, kiddos," he proclaimed, standing up a little too dramatically, "I say it's time for a game."

"Oh god," Natasha murmured, half-laughing and burying her face in her hands.

"What kind of game?" Steve asked

Tony shrugged and smirked. "Something fun. Something damaging. Something slightly illegal in at least three countries - like everything I do."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Now you're speaking my language."

Pietro grinned as he slouched on the arm of a chair. "If it involves shots, I'm in."

Thor gave out a loud laugh. "Yes! A test of will and strength—I welcome this challenge."

Wanda drew in toward you, her voice low, amusement in her eyes. "I probably should warn you..." His previous 'games' resulted in arrests.

You grinned and said in a dark, mischievous whisper. "I've broken out of worse."

Tony pointed at both of you. "See, this is why you're my favorite threat to national security, Y/N."

"Flattered, Tony."

He spun towards the group. "All right—truth or dareBut no wimping out, no playing nice, and if somebody throws a punch, you replace my coffee machine."

Steve moaned. "Do we have to?"

"Cap, come on," Tony said, smirking. "Let loose and live a little. You may even smile."

"I smile plenty."

"No one's seen it since '42," you teased.

The crowd burst into laughter as Steve rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Fine. I'm in."

The first few rounds were exactly what you'd expect from a group of emotionally disturbed, augmented people with no supervision.

Pietro quickly challenged Tony to shotgun a can of beer while upside down. To everyone's dismay and small surprise, he did—only to tumble straight off the counter and take a lamp down with him.

"Worth it, tho," Tony said from the floor, holding the empty can in victory.

Natasha coolly won every truth round by flat-out refusing to answer and daring people to test her. No one did.

"Alright, alright," Tony clapped his hands, moving whiskey over the rim of his glass. "Y/N. Your turn. "Truth or dare?"

You took a slow sip from your drink, smiled over the rim. "Truth."

A series of loud gasps filled the room.

"Booooring," Pietro mocked, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

Tony's eyes glinted, indicating that he was already planning something. "Okay, vampire queen — here's your question: what's the most messed-up thing you've done to someone... y'know, before you joined our lovely dysfunctional family?"

"Well..." you began, swirling the blood-red wine in your glass, allowing the expectation to hang in the air for too long. "There was a duke. 1894. "Arrogant little thing who used to hunt people like me for fun."

Wanda's brows rose with interest, and you caught her gaze.

"I let him think he was winning for weeks," you said, your voice slick and incisive. "Then, on the night of his wedding, I drained the entire wedding party. I left him alive. Tied to a chair. Made him watch. "And when the sun rose...you can guess the rest."

A brief and startled hush.

"Holy shit," Sam said.

Thor gave a strong, slightly unpleasant laugh. "Remind me not to cross you, Lady Y/N."

Pietro's grin grew like a child on Christmas morning. "Okay, сестрa...Truth or dare?"

Wanda squinted her eyes, hating her birth with a twin. "Dare."

The entire room gasped and cheered.

"Oh, she's brave," Sam laughed, raising his glass.

Pietro tapped his chin impressively before snapping his fingers. "Okay, okay — I dare you to... use your powers to convince Thor to give Captain America a lap dance."

The room has lost it. Sam doubled out laughing. Tony nearly fell off the couch while gripping his chest. Natasha only smirked and murmured, "This I gotta see."

Wanda's jaw dropped. "You're an idiot."

"I'm a genius," Pietro said

You were amused by the situation: "Now this is comedy."

"Come on, Wanda," Tony taunted, elbowing her. "You're not scared, are you?"

Wanda groaned and hid her face in her hands for a moment before sighing. "Fine. But if I'm struck by lightning, I'll haunt you all."

With a flick of her fingers, a soft crimson glow flashed around her hand as she turned to face Thor, who was already chuckling, utterly oblivious of what was about to happen.

Thor's look slowed for a second before brightening with a grin as he clapped his hands. "Captain Rogers!" he exclaimed.

Steve suddenly appeared terrified. "Wait, what's happening—?"

Before anyone could blink, Thor began bouncing his hips and making his way toward Steve.

"Oh my God," Sam exclaimed, pointing. "It's happening!"

"Wanda, stop him!" Steve yelled, attempting to stand up, but Thor was quick.

Wanda cackled, letting go just as Thor arrived.

Thor blinked, perplexed. "Why am I...? Why do I feel like I'm about to—?"

"Nothing!" Wanda called swiftly, laughing so hard that tears welled up in her eyes.

Steve scowled at Pietro. "You're dead."

Pietro only shrugged, smirking like a proud evil. "Worth it."

You lifted your drink to Wanda with a mischievous look. "Impressive, Miss Maximoff."

Wanda performed a fake curtsy. "Thank you, malysh."

The night dragged on after the chaos of the game. People began to leave one by one, with headaches or outright shame. Thor left first, complaining about Midgardian customs being weird. Sam and Pietro quickly disappeared, most likely to plunder the kitchen again. Steve fled, grumbling about decency. Even Tony, half-drunk and yet beaming, went off to his floor.

You stayed.

Not because you couldn't sleep—you didn't have to. However, there was something quietly pleasant about how the Tower felt at night. The hallways are empty.

Then you heard it.

Faint at first, but your senses sharpened without permission. A voice—strangled, sobbing. Another scream muffled behind a door, somewhere down the hall. Wanda.

Something inside of you moved before your thoughts could catch up with the harsh and broken scream. The book dropped from your lap, pages fluttering shut. You were already out the door, the gentle click of it closing behind you drowned by the beating of your own dead heartbeat.

You didn't think about it

Only her voice did.

You were on her floor in seconds, your steps soundless on the slick flooring. Another stifled sob pierced the air, and you did not hesitate.

"Friday," you said, your voice low

A gentle chime rang above you, the AI's tone polite. "Miss Y/L/N, Miss Maximoff's room is locked." Should I ignore security?"

You did not pause. "Do it."

"Access granted."

The door slid open with a hiss, and you slipped inside before it even completely opened.

The room was dim, with only a gentle glow from a bedside lamp throwing long shadows on the walls. Wanda lay tangled in the covers, her face contorted with misery even while sleeping, tears streaming down her cheeks. The tiny red flicker of her abilities danced wildly at her fingertips, and her breath came in loud, uneven gasps.

You crossed the room, dropping to a crouch beside her bed, your hand hovering just above her shoulder. "Wanda," you called her name softly, "Wands... wake up."

But she didn't. The nightmare had her in its grip, powers crackling faintly.

Your jaw clenched.

"Wanda," you whispered, voice barely there. "It's me."

Her eyes widened, glassy with panic, and she lost sight for a second. She shrank back, confusion on her face.

"Shhh, it's fine, little witch. It's me. Y/N." Recognition showed up, bringing with it something raw. She nearly threw herself into your arms, burying her face in the crook of your neck while her body rocked with tears.

"I...I dreamed you were gone," she gasped out, her voice trembling. "They killed you. And I couldn't stop it."

Your throat clenched. You hugged her closer, one hand caressing her hair and the other around her waist. She was warm and delicate in a way that no one else saw, including her brother.

Your throat clenched. You hugged her closer, one hand caressing her hair and the other around her waist. She was warm and delicate in a way that no one else saw, including her brother.

"I'm not going anywhere, darling," you said softly into her hair. "I am alive. I can't die, remember? I'm cursed, immortal,  whatever word makes you feel better."

It provoked a weak laugh from your throat, and you smiled softly, brushing your lips against her temple.

"You'll have to do a lot worse than a nightmare to get rid of me."

"Promise?" She whispered, so little and afraid.

"Promise."

You could feel her fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt, as if she was frightened you'd vanish if she let go.

"Stay," she said quietly this time.

"I'm not leaving," you said again. After a while, you could feel the way her breathing slowed, she fell asleep again..

You gently pushed your lips to her temple, allowing her warmth to soak into you.

And in a low, soft murmur meant just for her, you muttered, "You have no idea how long I've waited to hold you like this."

She shifted, burrowing her face more into your chest, and even though she didn't say anything, the way her lips curved against your skin gave you the impression she was smiling.

"I'm yours," you said quietly into the darkness, stroking your hand through her hair. "Always. "No nightmare, war, or death could separate me from you...."

[reallyromealone]

Title: Tokyo host club

Chapter: 8

Fandom: Tokyo revengers ohshc, KNB

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mentions of abuse, omegaverse, angst and fluff, scenting, crying, Makoto Hanamiya

Notes: works kicking my ass but I'm taking two weeks for vacation so more writing woo

Summary: mitsukuni and the reader go on a date where they see the omegas ex boyfriend

🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛

(name) was excited to spend his summer with haruhi, the two going to her dad's friends bed and breakfast to get some quiet time + (name) had a chess open in the area so it worked out.

He was a little bummed he couldn't spend his birthday with mitsukuni and his family but it was fine, the soon to be sixteen year old just happy to be out of Tokyo for a bit. (Name) Was cleaning and polishing the dining tables while Haruhi put the linens on the clothes line.

"HARUHI!" the sound of Tamaki screaming startled (name) and he looked to see the linens fly in the air, damn it. He was gonna have to grab that.

-

(Name) Stood beside haruhi, an annoyed expression on his face that slowly melted when mitsukuni doted on him and the two strayed away from the chaos "Tama and the others came because Tama thought haruhi was in danger but I came to see you ~" the Alpha was already fully aware on (name)s summer plans and had his own plans to surprise him but seeing the opportunity, he couldn't miss it "you know I'm still working, right? I can't just stop it all"

"And you know I could have taken you to Switzerland!"

"Mitsu, I don't even have my passport" (name) reminded and the Alpha pouted, there was the other reason neither brought up and that was (name)s grandpa's health decline. (Name) Was worried about going this far but Shinichiro practically booted him out claiming the Omega needed to relax and that Shinichiro would pick him up asap if anything happened.

"Well! That's neither here nor there! Now where are those treats you spoke of!"

-

The group sat in the garden with tea, (name) sipping casually until kyoya spoke about expulsion for getting a job. His blood froze and for a second the smell of rot made it to the host clubs nose before (name) got his scent under control and (name) was gonna be honest... He kind of blacked out the rest of the conversation out of anxiety.

When he finally checked back into the conversation, there was something about a competition but Mitsukuni was focused on him more than anything, panic in his eyes at the omegas short and distant responses "the lights are back on!" Mitsukuni whispered teasingly and (name) smiled back meekly, having not felt that level of anxiety since the time Emma almost got shot...

He never thought he would feel that level of anxiety again.

Mitsukuni knew how badly (name) needed this scholarship, wanting to support and help his family in any way he could and after high school, mitsukuni taking over his own family's business once he finishes university.

And when that happens he already had a plan partner with S.S motors to boost it.

But (name) didn't need to know that.

Not yet.

"Tama and the others are fighting for the room but taka and I already have a cottage more in town" mitsukuni explained and linked his fingers with (name) "don't worry (nickname), you're not getting expelled... They're just being jerks to haru-chan" jerks indeed as (name) found the manipulation towards the beta girl quite cruel honestly.

Rich people really didn't get it, did they?

(Name) Continued his work, working as a repair man of sorts in the b&b and fixing everything though the other alphas kept trying to step in "my sweet son, let me handle it!" Tamaki tried to say and (name) lifted a leveler "Tamaki, what is this?" The alpha failed to answer "I have been working with tools and the likes since my brother could put them in my hands, trust me I'm fine"

And with that (name) had an air conditioner to go fix, Mitsukuni following along to watch his omega fix things! He was so attractive when he got things fixed!

-

(Name) Was thankful to be given the day off the following day, having wanted to go see the shops in town but first he had to go grab his mate, Mitsukuni wanted to join him and (name) had to go awaken the beast.

Why were all the short blonds in his life nightmares to wake up?

Well at least he didn't get cussed out like he did with Mikey.

(Name) Was let in to the expansive and ornate cottage without a fuss, the place had to be double the size of where (name) was working. Walking into the blonds room, he saw the lump under the blanket and huffed with love in his eyes "mitsu, wake up" he said softly, leaning over the Alpha who grumbled "come on, you wanted me to wake you"

"Hmf..."

"... Come on Alpha, please?" This turned out to be a mistake, the other grabbing (name)s wrist and pulling him into bed, half awake and in a bitchy mood "careful" the Alpha warned and snuggled into (name), face pressed into the others neck before going back to sleep and (name) knew he wasn't going to get out of here in one piece, snuggling into the other and deciding to join the Alpha.

When (name) woke, he was snuggled into the others chest, purring sweetly and subconsciously chirping. This was the best sleep he's ever had, feeling the Alpha gently play with his (hair/nape) while texting with one hand on his phone, glancing down as if he wasn't just a monster two hours ago "good morning~!" His words light and airy, he could get used to having his omega so close to cuddle and kiss, "you ready to go, sleepyhead?" Mitsukuni said teasingly before they got up, the Alpha still in his pajamas and wandered to go change. The alpha changed in the washroom with the door slightly cracked open to talk "I'm starving, can we get some yummy food?" Mitsukuni asked and (name) shrugged "I could eat, I saw a cute deli when I rode here" the Omega had brought his bike to the small town to do deliveries and such, acclimating easily to the groove of the town.

"Rode here?"

"Yeah? On my bike?" He said confused and the Alpha stepped out dressed, wandering to the window and indeed there was a shiny motorcycle sitting in the driveway, he forgot his mate drove a motorcycle.

"Don't worry alpha, we can go your way" (name) used that nickname again and Mitsukuni turned and the love in his eyes was unexplainable.

-

Mitsukuni watched as (name) enjoyed his lunch, the Omega so serene and content around his alpha... Mitsukuni was so unapologetically in love with (name) in ways he didn't know were possible and sleeping together... That was honestly the best sleep he ever had, he loved his naps and sleep but this was... It was like his world was complete.

"(Name)?" A voice called out and he saw (name) freeze before his eyes sharpened a bit, gripping his fork and Mitsukuni looked at the man behind the Omega, first thing he noticed were some big ass eyebrows.

"Hanamiya" (name) hissed, scent turning sour and the Alpha in question smirked "come on, don't be like that" his voice condescending and mocking and eyes holding a look that mitsukuni didn't like "you used to be so good"

Mitsukuni would be a liar if he didn't do a full background check on (name).

He knew everything, every detail of the omegas life but he never said anything... He wanted (name) to be ready to talk about the dark and scary.

And he recognized Makoto Hanamiya at that moment, he didn't know the full details of what happened but he knew they dated for eight months and broke up, apparently it was bad, (name)s brothers had to accompany him everywhere for a while. "Let's go." (Name) Whispered with a pleading tone, his heart racing from anxiety and Makoto kissed his teeth "can't wait to see you at the open, it's gonna be great!" Makoto said with a plastered smile, eyeing mitsukuni.

"And I hope you two enjoy whatever you think you have, heads up about (name)--""shut up hanamiya, you psychotic narcissist!" (Name) Finally snapped "this is why no one stays around you because you're the worst and you know you are and god forbid you aren't terrible even just once! I'm going to absolutely rock your shit at that open so bad it's gonna remind your mom she should have aborted you!" He knew he went way to far, mitsukuni dragging him from the restaurant and somewhere quiet. (Name) Was hyperventilating, shaking and a mess while mitsukuni gently wiped those tears.

"He hurt you bad, huh?" His voice soft and sweet and he slowly put USA-chan in his mates arms and was so sweet to him, already having the limo coming to collect them both and he hoped they came fast at the sight of the clouds rolling in. (Name) Struggled to breathe, memories coming back hard "H- I" (name) could barely get the words out, this was a side of (name) mitsukuni had never seen and honestly never had to deal with something like this.

But he was determined to help (name) through this.

When the limo came, mitsukuni got (name) in and snuggled him as the limo took off back to mitsukunis cottage while the Alpha soothed him. (Name) Was quiet when they got back to the cottage, nesting materials already in the alphas room where (name) had calmed down "sorry..."

Mitsukuni didn't like seeing (name) this defeated and frowned "you don't need to apologize, (nickname)" mitsukuni said softly, if anything it was deeply attractive how (name) shut that down. "I-I should probably tell you why... I reacted like that"

"Only if you wanna"

"I feel I need to be honest with you about stuff" mitsukuni was quiet while (name) began explaining "you probably guessed that my brothers are into questionable things, my brother's run Toman..." There wasn't a person who didn't know Toman, they were gaining traction fast after all. "Makoto started dating me to use me as leverage against toman, blackmail them and emotionally abused me..." He had to go to therapy for it, wasn't allowed to walk alone for years after "A-and he tried to force my heat to trigger and when it didn't he broke my arm"

Oh mitsukuni was going to turn Makoto's bones into mist.

"I'm so sorry..."mitsukuni wanted to lock his mate away and keep him safe but he knew that wasn't even remotely on the table. (Name) Started crying again while years of repressed pain flooding out. "I-I thought my brother's scared him off... But I guess not"

"Don't worry (nickname)! I'll protect you!" And not leave the omegas side unless the other needed to pee, he was his beautiful mates faithful watchdog.

(Name) Sniffled and smiled at the others words "wanna continue our date? I feel bad for ruining it"

"You didn't ruin anything! It was that gross creature that ruined it!" Hunni stared with an 'angry' expression and let his omega pull him close for a hug.

-

The two didn't end up going back out, instead cuddling with (name) resting against the alphas chest and the blond even letting (name) hold USA chan for comfort. The two were watching a movie and (name) took in the sweet musk of his mate, brain fuzzy and a sense of peace and serenity falling on the both of them.

(Name) Ended up falling asleep on his mate, mitsukuni happy his mate felt safe before closing his eyes and joining him.

-

(Name) Was nervous for his chess match, he had no doubts he would win but the idea of facing him.... Sent shivers down his back and he had to focus his breathing.

"I got this..."

He had to win