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hyunebunx · 1 month

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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ skz and the reason you aren't together !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: angst

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: i loveee me some angst so i hope you'll enjoy! <3 seungmin's part is slightly longer because i wrote it for my beloved keisy @starlostseungmin <3

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - he chose work over pursuing his feelings for you.

He knows how you feel about him, and you know how he feels about you. Things couldn’t be simpler.

But in reality, things were more complicated than ever. Yes, Chan did in fact confess, but with the same breath he also told you this could never go any further.

You were devastated, confused and sad, not understanding what was going on through that bright mind of his.

You liked each other, you both wanted this – so, what was the issue?

It wasn’t you, it could never be. It was him, as always.

He was too busy, his job too demanding to leave any room for you and the precious feelings you’ve developed for him.

Chan felt like he didn’t deserve your love, because he could never be there for you in the way you needed a boyfriend to be.

He could never be there every morning when you woke up, kiss you goodbye each time you left the house or greet you with a big hug when you returned. He just couldn’t, too caught up in work to even notice the hours tick by.

You didn’t deserve an absent lover, one that could not put you first.

No matter how much he cared, how much his whole being longed for you, his job would always be his main priority. Then, his seven brothers. While you, would end up being third on his list.

It pained him to admit it, and even more so admit it to you but since he respected you so much, you deserved nothing but the truth.

This information crushed you, every word that left his mouth a stone that contributed to the mountain you were quickly getting buried under.

“But I love you.”

He shook his head, brown curls getting into glossy eyes. “I love you too, but we – I, can’t.”

At the end, just as you were preparing to depart his studio, he stood up. Without thinking, you hugged tightly, aware this would be the last time before things would change forever.

“Please don’t be sad because of me.”

How could you not? How did he expect you to not mourn the beautiful relationship you could have had, if only he wasn’t so against it?

If only he would have chosen you.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - because he broke up with you.

Yeah, pro idol Minho ended your relationship on a random Thursday night, taking everyone but most importantly you, by complete surprise.

“Let’s break up.”

You can’t believe your ears, especially since you’re in his house, eating the food he just prepared for the both of you, in his kitchen while wearing one of his shirts.

Nothing was amiss, nothing even prompted it. Things have been going great in your relationship – there was no recent argument or disagreement that could explain his sudden decision.

Blames it on his work and his hectic schedule, trying to appear as detached and unaffected as he possibly could. But you know better; you see it all.

The way his fist clenches over the dish rag, how his eyes won’t meet yours even for a split second. This isn’t something he wants to do, not in the slightest. Yet, here he is, breaking both of your hearts for a reason he doesn’t even bother revealing.

It stings in the worst way possible, even more so when you stand up to hug him and he just puts a hand up, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please, Y/n. Don’t make this harder for me.”

Tears well up in your eyes and that’s when he looks away, slumping against the counter as a sniff reaches his ears. He’s gripping the wood with such force you’re afraid it might actually snap.

“Why are you doing this? What’s going on?”

But Minho doesn’t respond, not even as you start crying and begging him to talk to you, to tear down the wall he suddenly plopped right between you two in your relationship.

He’s so close, mere inches away, but his heart that belonged to you, that always responded to yours, is suddenly grabbed harshly out of your hands and shipped away to an unknown destination.

“Minho.” You sniff, not hiding your tears or the pain that’s slowly ripping your heart to pieces and letting them fall all the way down to your stomach, trying to escape from the torture. Because even the idea of not having him in your life was pure torture.

“I think you should go.”

He walks past you, head hung low as he throws the dish rag on the table without saying anything else, putting an end to the conversation. An end to your relationship. Throwing it all away like the time spent together meant absolutely nothing to him.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t, not like he’d ever let see you the way he broke down as you slammed the front door shut, walking out of his life for good. Even if you didn’t agree, it was better this way.

Your life was better, and happier, without him in it. That’s what he kept murmuring to himself as he slid to the ground, against his bedroom door, crying while clutching his chest, afraid his heart might stop beating.

It was all for the better.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - is already in a relationship.

The most stupid thing you can ever do in this lifetime is fall in love with someone who’s already in love with another.

Not only is he in love, he’s also in relationship that’s been going on for three beautiful years.

The thing is, you haven’t always had feelings for Changbin.

It was weird, really. For the longest time now, he was just your bubbly co-worker who laughed so loud the whole department could hear him. The mood maker of the company.

It happened on the annual Christmas party, where you drunk a little too much as you were nursing a broken heart after your ex dumped you out of the blue.

The whole world was spinning but you were happy – happier than you’ve been in months.

Noticing you could barely stand, Changbin ever the gentleman, offered to drive you home.

You complained and complained but after some more convincing from him, Changbin managed to coax you onto the passenger seat of his sports car.

You were silent the whole ride but as he parked on your driveway, he gasped, worriedly grasping your hands and exclaiming about the tears on your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying.

But that’s when the dam broke and it all came to the surface, tears flowing freely down your face and neck as you sobbed, telling Changbin everything from beginning to end.

And he listened, holding your hands and nodding when appropriate, offering you the occasional sip of water or a tissue to wipe your face, not interrupting once.

His heart broke for you, unaware his mere presence was already working on mending yours.

The next morning, you almost didn’t show up to work as you remembered everything, how you made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone but especially Changbin. But something pushed you to do so.

As you arrived, a care basket was on your desk, accompanied by a little note with a crooked smiley face and then, he appeared, doing the exact same expression.

And you laughed, wholeheartedly. And you continued to do so as you began taking your lunch breaks together, working side by side and even taking turns on driving the other home.

Falling for him was inevitable, but you didn’t mind, all warm and fuzzy on the inside as the heart your ex broke was anew.

That is, until you met her. You and Changbin became so close that he couldn’t help but want to introduce you to his other half, the woman who loved him unconditionally that knew a little too much about you.

And just like that, your heart shattered once again, the pieces so tiny they were easily blown away in the wind, leaving behind a big whole were all of your love once resided. How could you be so stupid to believe someone could ever love you again?

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - you found out he was in love with someone else.

Plain and simple, as heartbreaking as it sounds.

Let me paint this picture: you two are best friends, each other’s safe places. You always talk about everything and anything with one another, feeling comfortable to share even your darkest secrets.

Because of that, you genuinely thought he might even reciprocate your feelings at some point.

But one day, as you’re both hanging out at your house, watching a movie, all of the hope and daydreams you held in your heart for a happy ending with him just get crushed.

He suddenly dumps this new information on you while he’s casually munching on some popcorn, watching the couple on the screen confess their love for each other like your heart didn’t just stop beating.

You’re so taken aback that you stop breathing for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes.

For some strange reason, Hyunjin doesn’t meet your gaze even as it goes silent between you two and your eyes keep burning holes into the side of his head.

Only when you finally tear your gaze away, eyes glossy as you try to murmur encouraging words does he finally turn to you.

His breath hitches in his throat at the sight but other than that, he doesn’t comment on it.

The whole ordeal feels like a slap in the face, hurting more than any physical injury you’ve ever sustained but, it’s not like you could blame anyone but yourself for it. You’ve missed your chance and now, Hyunjin was going to be in a happy relationship with someone else.

So, as expected from any best friend put in that situation, you say through gritted teeth.

“You should confess.”

Hyunjin searches your face for any sign of discomfort and finds many – but, as expected, doesn’t say anything, just looks away and nods slowly. Like he just can’t maintain eye contact for more than five seconds at a time.

And that’s the end of it. The whole vibe changes, now uncomfortable and cold and it’s clear that neither of you is paying any attention to the movie anymore.

But he still remains till the end, and when the credits start rolling, you stand up first and bid him goodnight without your usual warm smile or departing embrace before sprinting up the stairs to your room.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest as your door slams shut, the tears in your eyes bringing him unexplainable sorrow.

And as he leaves your apartment that night, down in the dumps, you know things between you have changed forever.

Because that’s the last time you and Hyunjin talk.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - he hasn’t confessed yet.

Jisung has liked you for a while now but for some reason, every time he wanted to take that leap of faith and finally confess, something always came up.

You were interrupted, plans had to be cancelled or you were simply too busy to even talk to each other.

It was driving him insane, especially when he’d spot you at an event surrounded by people he felt he couldn’t push through, missing his chance at your attention every time.

He felt forced to watch you from the sidelines, a background character in your life that would never get his moment to shine.

You were friends, but he often felt he cared about you more than you cared about him and it was tearing him apart.

Each time you smiled or laughed at one of his jokes, everything around him disappeared as time seemed to come to a stop, making you look even more beautiful. Which was a hard thing to do since you were already perfect in his eyes.

His insecurities and crippling fear of rejection were literally ruining his life, preventing him from experiencing the love story he’s been yearning for.

Jisung was good at hiding his feelings from you, but sometimes, he slipped up.

Like that time, he held your waist for a little too long, or guided your hands over the piano keys like it was the most natural thing in the world. Those moments when he wasn’t overly conscious, when he got lost in the moment, were your favorite.

You see, in his mission to prevent you from discovering how insanely in love he was with you, Jisung managed to make you believe the opposite. That he hated you. Okay, maybe not hate, just strongly dislike.

Always avoiding being left alone with you, barely meeting your eyes or pulling away when you got a little too close. He seemed repulsed, and it hurt you.

Where you really that unpleasant in his eyes?

He was nice and bubbly around everyone else, no matter the gender. Why couldn’t he be the same Jisung whose smile made your heart skip several beats around you, too?

This went on for a long while, which solidified the idea he hated you in your head, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

One day, Jisung almost walked in on you and Felix…hugging on the practice room floor? His heart dropped, brows furrowing in confusion. Felix knew how he felt about you, he would never disregard that, right?

Everything clicked when he heard your muffled sobs and pained voice.

“I give up, Felix.” You said, hiding your face in his chest as a loud sob escaped you. “Jisung hates me, it’s official! I tried so, so hard but it was no use.” Felix murmured something back, deep voice uncharacteristically soft as he comforted you, caressing your back.

Jisung couldn’t hear what he said though, eyes filling with tears as the only thing resonating in his ears was the pounding of his own heart. You thought…he hated you?

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - because your relationship is too…complicated at the moment.

Complicated didn’t even begin to describe your relationship with the ray of sunshine.

He was your ex that somehow slithered his way back into your life again, only this time, as a friend. Not even, just an acquaintance that knew too many of your secrets and biggest aspirations.

There was no denying the feelings you still harbored for him, the flame flickering in your heart each time he was around; each time he spoke, he smiled, he laughed or even as much as looked at you, your heart thumped so loudly in your chest you were afraid he was able to hear it.

It was embarrassing, especially since he didn’t seem as affected.

Your relationship ended on a sour note – arguing, screaming, crying, the whole package.

Yet a few months later, when you happened to be at the same party, Felix accompanied by a friend walked up to you like nothing even happened, greeting you brightly.

It was horrible, and you almost cried right there and then, missing the way his doe eyes took in all of the little details that changed about you ever since you broke up, desperately committing them to memory.

Like he never wanted to forget, because he didn’t. Felix never wanted to forget about you, even if you didn’t love him anymore.

And so, this happened a few more times until the inevitable took place.

You kissed. And never spoke about it.

And then you kissed again, and again, until he was coming over to your house in the middle of the night to do more than kiss.

It messed with your head, the way he was looking at you – like you hung the stars on the night sky for him and him alone. Like he loved you and wasn’t breaking your heart each time those plush lips kissed every inch of your skin, worshipping every part of your body.

“Why do you keep coming back?” You’d whisper one night, resting your head on his naked chest as the moon bare witness to your unspoken feelings.

“You keep calling.”

“And when I’ll stop,” you move to look at him, face mere inches away from his, hands supporting your weight on his chest, “will you still come?”

He hesitates, staring straight into your eyes. “Most likely, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Yeah…complicated.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - because he is your best friend.

For most, the transition from best friends to lovers was as natural as breathing, something inevitable that was bound to happen one way or the other. Not for Seungmin.

He didn’t even allow his mind to go down that road, to think about being more than friends with you, one of the people he held the closest to his heart.

Not because he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but because he was afraid.

Yes, he was afraid that once that line was crossed, the one that kept you firmly in place in the beautiful friendship that only blossomed and became very special over the years, it would all disappear.

Things would change and shift, which would bring forth your downfall.

In his eyes, the risk of fighting and breaking up was too big for him to even consider taking your relationship to the next level. He didn’t want to lose you, never.

But what he failed to take into account was that you would not stay single forever.

That’s why, the moment you skipped over to him and squealed about having a date, his heart almost stopped beating.

His world was spinning, like an earthquake started in his head which was quickly crumbling down every single wall and boundary, and rational decision he ever made over the years.

“You…have a date?” He gulped, ignoring the alarms going off in his head that were deafening him. “With who?”

“This guy from work.” You shrugged, excitement dimming as your gaze met his, serious. “He isn’t the one I like, but I guess it will have to do for now.”

Seungmin wasn’t stupid but his heart understood your allusion before his mind did, thumping loudly and stealing his breath away.

You were talking about him. You were going out with another guy but were thinking about him – he was the one you liked!

Still, he didn’t vocalize a response, choosing to nod and pat you on the back gently, staring at anything else other than the disappointment that overwhelmed your whole frame, making you appear oh so small.

The day of your date arrived sooner than he’d like, and Seungmin was miserable, especially since you texted him the location ‘just in case’.

Usually, he was more than happy to know where you were, safe and sound, but this time he would have preferred you didn’t let him know you were with another guy at the restaurant you frequented together.

Hours passed, and night was making its presence known, but still no sign from you. Was he worried? No. Because for once, you staying out meant the date was a success and you were having the time of your life with this guy that wasn’t him.

That’s until, a mere half an hour later, loud knocking had him off the couch in a second, opening the door to find you frowning, and with tears in your eyes. Opening his mouth to speak, shocked, thinking something had happened on the date, your finger hitting his chest stopped him.

“Why didn’t you come?” You sniffed. “I thought going out with someone else would finally prompt you to admit that what we have is more than a simple friendship! Do you hate me that much?”

He was speechless, grabbing you by the elbows as you barged in, tears streaming down your face.

“Answer me, Kim Seungmin!” Well, he was fucked.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - isn’t sure what he feels for you yet.

Or better yet, his commitment issues prevented him from admitting to any feelings he might have.

See, you weren’t just friends. You were a little more than that, spending most of your free time together going to cute cafes and what would be considered dates, acting all lovey dovey.

That is, when you weren’t spending the weekend bound to his bed. That wasn’t fair, sometimes he was the one tied up. A very mutual arrangement.

Jeongin managed to drag you into a situationship you were now too deep into to break off, having developed actual feelings.

But each time you tried to speak to him about said feelings, he’d close off quicker than a frightened snail, impossible to reach.

After each one of these occasions, he wouldn’t contact you for days on end, sometimes even weeks, leaving you wondering if he’d ever come back.

He always did, he couldn’t stay away from you no matter how much he tried.

Even if he messed with other people in that time, he’d still make his way back to you, smiling like nothing even happened and ready to give you all of his attention and affection again.

It was exhausting, and very, very painful.

But you still welcomed him back with open arms, too happy to see him to even care that each time he appeared in your life again, you were not the same.

Every time he disappeared and you didn’t say anything, a piece of your heart was ripped off harshly, stomped on and then thrown in the trash, devoid of any color or life. Like an old toy, forgotten in favor of a new, shiny one.

But Jeongin didn’t care. It’s not like he could be bothered to pick up your scattered pieces – they didn’t interest him, you did.

Not like he ever noticed the light in your eyes dimming each time he stormed back into your life after pretending you didn’t exist for weeks.

To be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever be together.

Not now, or in the future.

No matter how much you hated to admit it, the facts were neatly laid out before you – Jeonging didn’t care about you at all, no matter how sweet, loving or good you were to him.

He thought you couldn’t notice, that your love for him was too blinding for you to see anything else other than him.

But you did. And he also did when one day, for the first time since he met you, as he stumbled out of a bar, giddy and tipsy with his phone to his ear ready to hear your sweet voice, his call didn’t go through.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz angst #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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cursingtoji · 1 year

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as requested, a longer version of this drabble

synopsis: geto spared one woman from the village he exterminated due to the pleading of mimiko and nanako, now he has to live in between preaching a world without non-sorcerers during the day and sleeping with one during the night; a dive into the mind of a conflicted man.

cw: canon events (no major spoilers), death topics, fem submissive reader x cult leader geto, smut, oral (m -> f), 1.6k words.

part 2

The day was horribly busy, on days like these, where he had to talk in front of a crowd for such a long time, then entertain donors, then eat curses, Geto can’t sleep due to the loud noise of his mind, he would probably sleep if he was in a equally loud environment, but, except for the sound of your soft breathing, the room has dead quiet.

Dead quiet.

Geto sits up, the cold air hitting his bare chest as he takes in the sight of the red temple across the open window, a ruffling makes him draw and narrow his eyes to the figure in his bed.

He remembers the day he first saw you, trying to sneak in the room where Mimiko and Nanako were locked in, he was in the process of exterminating the people in that village so he didn’t think twice when he grabbed you by your hair ready to let a curse rip you apart but the deafening sound of the girl’s scream stopped him, only then he noticed a bag with food that fell of your hands.

He could see from a distance, you were like the rest of them, a regular non-sorcerer and a few minutes ago he decided what he wanted.

A world free of non-sorcerers.

He can’t make an exception. He shouldn’t.

The twins had tears in their eyes. They’re young and his responsibility now, so a helping hand couldn’t be a sin. He could leave you for last.

Somehow he finds in his heart to spare you, and once he consolidated his power as a leader, he took the three of you in, the girls only leave your side when he’s around, they don’t approach anyone else except the two of you.

The first week you were around sorcerers he could see the fear and confusion in your face. Nanako tugged his clothing and he squatted to listen as she whispered to him “She cannot see them”.

So he provided special glasses for you, one with cursed energy so you could see what people like you shouldn’t, and he made Nanako hand it to you as you slowly began to comprehend what the weird events around you actually were.

She should be thankful, she’s only alive because of me.

He thought about that constantly, especially when watching you smiling and minding your own business.

And you are grateful and respectful towards him, almost never making eye contact, just keeping your head down and only calling him “Geto-sama”, he appreciated that, you should know your place.

It’s only a matter of time before he grows fond of you too, with his influence and your submission, it didn’t take long before you were in his bed, being happy to serve him in any ways.

It’s a contradiction having you around, he knows it. A monkey.

You sleep so peacefully, he wonders if you understand how lucky you are to make it this far.

Tonight could be your last night on earth, how deserving are you to live in his ideal world? You have two little girls that adore you, is that enough? He could just tell them something awful happened.

His cold fingers trace the back of your neck, ghosting your cervical spine.

You fell off the stairs and broke your neck, so sad.

That’s believable, the temple has many stairs.

His index finds your pulsing point.

A man attacked you, another monkey, and cut your throat, how horrible.

His eyes drop to your rising chest.

You fell on the lake and drowned, a terrible accident.

There’s so many possibilities to get rid of you without them blaming Geto.

Warm fingers unexpectedly find his hand, your small hand covers his. Suguru feels his human side returning to him, the dark cloud over his head slowly fading away as you take his wrist and you turn your head to kiss his palm.

He feels like crying, confused and guilty.

The bedroom is dark enough for you to miss the look of despair in his eyes, he allows you to caress the veins in his forearms, tracing it all the way to his biceps until you find his neck with your arm completely extended. Suguru gives in to the light pressure you make, bringing him to lay back down with you. You kiss his shoulders, his chest, his neck.

He doesn’t feel worth your kisses.

Again the contradiction.

You kiss his jawline and he stops you with a hand over your lips, he doesn’t want you to feel the way his lips quiver, you don’t ask questions, just accept and kiss his palm again, holding it against your cheek.

Geto is hard on you sometimes, giving humiliating tasks such as cleaning up the remains of someone who wronged him or capturing a curse that will for sure attack you. As much as he sometimes thinks of creating a space between the girls and you, the little ones always find a way back, helping you clean while keeping a non-morbid conversation topic or helping bandage the scratches you got from the small but feisty cursed spirited you were assigned to.

Yet you never once complained, always bowing in obedience with a soft “Yes, Geto-sama” coming out of your lips.

He knows when to treat you well too, sometimes he knocks on your room at night, sometimes he sends someone to call you over to his. When his whole cult speech was over he would dismiss everyone except you, to be alone in the giant spacious room with him, he likes to take you there, where your quiet sounds of pleasure bounce through the walls and create an echo.

You’re good to him, not to his cause, to Geto-sama you’re useless, but to Suguru Geto you’re an anchor.

He returns your kisses, sucking on your clavicle then down the soft skin of your breasts, where he takes in one nipple and licks until it gets hard enough for him to gently bite on and make you gasp.

Your hands find his hair, his long soft locks, the same ones you brush ever so patiently when Mimiko and Nanako turn it into a mess of knots from braiding and tying tiny silicone elastics on, you don’t scold them, even if it means to stay hours with Geto trying to undo it afterwards.

They will grow up to be spoiled.

But he also could never scold them like a father is supposed to, deep down he knows he won’t need to, they adore him, anything he’ll say they’ll do.

They’re good kids, he supposes he owns it to you too.

Suguru leaves a wet trail of kisses down your body until he’s between your legs, he first starts by licking the surrounds of your clit teasing patiently as you get wetter, the sleepiness doesn’t allow you to protest or whine, only to close your eyes and take whatever he’s willing to give you while tangling your fingers in his hair.

When he finally gives your nub some attention in the form of sucking, your leg twitches, he squeezes it and places it over his shoulder, at this point he’s laying on his stomach vaguely thrusting his pelvis onto the mattress to relieve a bit of the aching in his cock he gets when eating you out.

He adds more tongue as he moves down your needy hole, which pulsates around nothing, Suguru hums nuzzling your glossy folds, the vibration goes straight to your hardened nub.

“Geto-sama” you moan when he fucks you with his tongue, the tip of his nose hits your clit perfectly, once he looks up to see you falling apart on him you shiver, his eyes are predatory, you wonder if you should retrieve your hand from his head, but he quickly closes them again, losing himself in the taste of you. God, you taste so good. What makes him get through the day when he has to absorb those disgusting curses is the thought of getting lost between your legs, sucking your nipples, eating his own cum off you, sucking your tongue…

He feels your orgasm approaching as you tug his locks harder, whimpering softly. Usually he would make you beg, stopping his ministrations just before you get there and delaying it until there are tears in your eyes. Tonight he’s enjoying the silence, he might just let you go ahead, but there’s something he wants to hear.

“Say my name” he orders with a raspy voice.

“Get—“

“No” he bites your inner thigh, “My actual name.”

“Suguru” you roll his name so beautifully on your tongue.

“Keep saying it” he dives back, making out with your pussy and paying extra attention to your puffy clit as you call his name in a prayer.

He misses it, the way his first name used to be used, nowadays is just “Geto-sama this, Geto-sama that, master, sir”. It would inflate his ego if it didn’t come out of monkeys' mouths.

But Suguru? He left that for you only, even the other sorcerers he considers family just call him Geto.

Before he realizes you’re already cumming, hole pulsating around his tongue and heels digging on his back. He slows down his pace, nibbling on your glossy lips then taking your hand out of his hair to kiss it like you did earlier, the act makes your heart swell, you caress his face, thumb rubbing the dark circles under his eyes.

“Suguru” you call his name again, this time looking straight in his eyes, they don’t seem predatory anymore as he moves up finding a safe spot on your chest, where he lays down listening to your heartbeat as your fingers work through the knots in his hair, this time caused by yourself. Your other hand caresses his back and shoulders, whatever skin you can find to soothe him. Now he doesn’t have the loud voices in his head and bitter taste in his mouth and manages to fall asleep again.

part 2 ->

#geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x you

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mrsparrasblog · 3 months

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I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.

TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*

So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)

Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.

"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."

"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"

"This time, I promise."

To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasn’t fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.

Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.

When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.

Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldn’t survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.

Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”

Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldn’t stop you from loving a dead man?

All the conversations came flooding back:

"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."

"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."

"You're beautiful, Ghost."

"You're enough."

"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didn’t even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.

Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.

His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didn’t understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasn’t there anymore.

Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know you’re rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Don’t want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Can’t miss the birth of your princess, can you?"

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blaydie · 28 days

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ᥫ᭡ LEARNING TO ACCEPT — “If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Dan Heng x GN reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Contains: Dan Heng x GN reader, Dan Heng IL, affection, kissing, making out, cuddling, NSFW content, love bites, scratches, brief (singular) mention of blood, handjob, brief oral, penetration, aftercare

How long has it been? Since completing his duties on the Luofu, Dan Heng has hardly left his room. It doesn’t go unnoticed by any passenger of the Express; even Pom-Pom has begun voicing their concern over the situation. He has always been distant, but not to this extent. Ignoring text messages, leaving knocks on his door unanswered—it’s as though he’s no longer here.

To say it hasn’t been bothering you would be a lie. You don’t blame him for wanting to be alone. Anyone would feel the same way if they had to relive every torturous memory of a past they cannot control. You just miss him—you never thought it would be possible to grieve the presence of someone who is only a few steps away from you.

Walking out of the parlour cabin, you pass by the archives, noticing the gap from the slightly ajar door. As you were about to carry on, you bumped into someone, unsure of who else could be lurking outside of their room at this hour. It was dark, but regardless of light, you know whose hands are gripping both of your arms to stabilise you.

“Dan?” You kept your voice low, respecting his means of privacy. If he doesn’t want anyone to see him, it would be unfair to reveal he’s finally taken a step outside of his room.

“Hello.” His voice was soft, the grip on you loosening while you find your footing.

Without thinking twice, you step towards him and wrap your arms around him, your head resting against his shoulder. As though relieved by your gesture, a huff of air exerts from his mouth as he holds you in an embrace. It’s been a while since he last saw you; he had come to forget how you felt in his grasp.

Just as you were about to talk again, he pressed his finger to your lips. You notice a light flick on down the hall, your bodies slowly backing up into the archives. When safety is ensured, Dan closes the door and brushes past you, clearing a space for you to sit down on his mattress.

The lights remained off, giving the impression to outsiders that no one was home. You take a seat, eyes glued to the messy pillows and blankets beside you. Dan stands at the databank, finalising some pieces while you get yourself comfortable.

“Are you feeling any better?” You inquire, snuggling one of his pillows to your chest.

“Not really. I’ve been trying to take my mind off of things.”

“That’s okay, take your time. Everyone understands, but we all miss you.”

“I missed you too.” Dan smiles to himself, his steps drawing closer. “I left you a gift; it’s outside of your room door. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“I’ve had trouble sleeping recently. What is it?”

“It’s a teddy bear. I bought it for you when we were in Belebog. I couldn’t find the right time to give it to you—so much has happened since then.”

“Thank you. I’m guessing I’ll be kicked out soon; I’m running all my luck dry.”

“You can stay if you’d like to. Remember to keep quiet about it though, please.”

“I’m good with secrets.”

“I’ve been taking a break from work for a change. I watched all of that series you recommended to me. It was good.”

“Really? You liked it? I have so many more!—”

“Shh.” Dan laughs, keeping his volume down as he places his hand over your mouth. When you settle, he retracts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders. “I did. We can start a new series together if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. One that we only watch together.” You beam, poking around his face with your finger until you find his cheek, giving it a light pinch. “That means you have to see me every night. No watching it alone.”

“That would be nice. I’ve been meaning to catch up with you; I’m sorry for leaving your messages unopened. I do see them all. Your words are sweet.”

“Did you see the little kitty plush? It looks just like you!”

“I did. It’s too cute to be me.”

“I think you both look alike. I haven’t seen your face for so long; how do I even know this is Dan Heng? What if you’re a Dan Heng imposter?”

Leaning over you, he flicks on the lamp which produces low lumination, allowing you to gaze upon his facial features. He was in his nightwear, his lips pursed together.

“I know you’re still confused over what you saw on the Luofu. You can ask questions if you’d like.”

“I don’t want to pry. I am worried though.” Upon saying this, his features soften. “You’re not going to leave the Express, are you?”

“Not anytime soon. Don’t stress about that.” Dan reaches for his phone, opening up a streaming app. “I have my reasons to stay.”

“Good. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” You poke your head over, looking at the series he’s selecting to play. “You don’t have to hide your form when you’re with me. I didn’t find it weird; you looked beautiful.”

“Ah, it’s… It’s not like that. I prefer this one. That’s all.” His cheeks flush, eyes flickering up to you then back down to his phone. “There’s too much negativity tied to it. Plus, I don’t exactly blend in.”

“Can I see it again?” You brush your thumb over his hand, a small huff exiting his parted lips.

As your thumb continues to travel his skin, he locks his fingers with yours. Your eyes drift up, the change in his appearance evident. His hair flows behind his back, ears pointy. You instinctively reach to feel the horns crowning his head, but he stops you, holding your forearm in place.

“Let me do it for you.” He speaks in a hushed tone, guiding your fingers around the curve of each horn. The feeling is unlike anything you can think of. They’re much smoother than you imagined.

“Dan, they’re so pretty. Wow…” You’re in awe, captivated by the beauty of the man in front of you. Freeing yourself from his clutch, you tuck a long strand of hair behind his ear and run your finger over the cartilage.

“…” The faint blush on his cheeks darkened, spreading over the ears you have your hands all over. He clears his throat, doing his best to shake the feeling of the way you’re touching him. “Thank you.”

“I think you look amazing. This is who you are; you shouldn’t have to hide it because of a past that’s gotten stuck to you. You’re much better than he ever was.”

As you move back, you catch a glimpse of the wide-eyed expression he’s giving you, his eyes glowing and his mouth twisted into a wide grin. With his arms weaved around your waist, he tugs you closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“I want people to see me for who I am. I’ll never be him. I want all of my accomplishments to belong to me. Nothing of mine should be tainted with his name.”

“That’s how it should be.” You bury your hand in his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

“I truly did miss you,” Dan mumbles against your skin, planting a kiss on your collarbone. “You understand me better than anyone else does. I appreciate that.”

“I try my best. I want you to feel that you can come to me for anything. You don’t have to resolve everything alone.”

Planting more pecks along your flesh, he returns to your neck, his tongue trailing up a patch of skin. His fangs graze you, nipping you abruptly. It felt like a needle, causing you to gasp, gritting your teeth while he quickly pulled back.

“I’m so sorry.” He wipes his mouth, a small trickle of blood escaping the puncture. “My teeth are sharper like this. I forgot…”

He places a kiss on top of the small bite mark, lifting you so you straddle his lap. Both of your hands remain on his shoulders, your foreheads pressed against one another. Pulling down his bottom lip, you lean into a kiss. He holds you tightly, allowing you to take the lead. In all truth, he’s terrified of hurting you. It’ll take some adjusting to get used to interacting with others in this form, particularly in more intimate ways.

Your tongue brushes against his, winning the battle and continuing on. It’s clear he’s holding back, but you aren’t willing to push him. Taking things slow will help him; the last thing you want to do is make his discomfort in this form grow worse. You and Dan have established in the past that this relationship has far surpassed friendship, though there’s yet to be an official label. Whatever reason there may be for that is unclear, but you both know your hearts belong together. Neither one of you would look for this with another person.

Fabric rustles while your hips wind against him, too lost in the moment. His hands tremble as they dip under your clothes, index finger gliding around your waistband. You disconnect the kiss, chest heaving. He pulls his sweater from over his head, rolling to the side to trap you under him. One of his knees is lodged in between your legs, pinning you flat to the mattress.

You drag your hands down his torso, dancing over his pecs and down his abs. His breathing turns heavier, eyes half-lidded as he fumbles with undoing the buttons of your attire. Whether it be due to his recent heightened emotions, he almost seems desperate for your touch. Desperate to touch you.

By looking at him, a pang of guilt ripples through your heart. You can’t imagine being subjected to a life like his, having to deal with the sin of something you wish to not associate with. Dan doesn’t deserve to be treated or viewed the way he is. Sitting back up, you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him into another kiss, causing him to fall with you.

This time, you roll on top, holding both of his hands against the pillow. His lips pout, almost as though he were encouraging you to go further. Due to all of the touching, he became hard a while ago. He was waiting for you to be the one to initiate things.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re the only blessing this life has to give me. I must’ve used up any remaining luck I had to cross paths with you.” He rests back against the headboard, breaking his hands free so he can hold you.

“There’s so much more out there for you. We’ll find them together. We have an entire galaxy to search.”

“And much more beyond that.” He adds, the warm smile reappearing on his face.

You nod, returning your focus to his body beneath you. Sliding down his pants, you see his hardness outlined in his boxers, a small damp spot where pre-cum leaked out. His arousal for you didn’t bring him shame; he was pleased to allow you to see him this way. Vulnerability is something you only share with those you trust most.

Sliding them off, you take his dick into your hand, giving it a stroke before rubbing your thumb over his tip. The sensation shoots tingles up his body, goosebumps appearing up his skin. You continue rhythmically stroking his length, focusing your lips on leaving a trail of marks across his collarbone. He leans forward, allowing you easy access to the back of his neck where his hair covers. Swooping it out of the way, you leave a distinct hickey in a place no one will see. The only two people aware of its presence are you and him. It wouldn’t be the first thing you have both kept secret from everyone else.

Since he was already sensitive, it didn’t take him long to build up a climax, edging closer to an orgasm while you continued your motions. He panted, mouth directly beside your ear as you continued to decorate his skin with kisses and elaborately placed bites. A droplet of cum drips down onto your finger and you stop, wrapping your lips around his tip to clean him up. He swallows the lump in his throat, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand while you sit back up.

After removing your underwear, Dan guides you into the correct position, his tip pressed against your hole. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to tell him when you’re ready. With a nod, you lower yourself onto him, feeling him thrust up to speed the process. It didn’t take him long to bottom out inside you; your body is already familiar with his shape, fully accustomed to his size.

You both fall into the natural rhythm, your hips grinding against him while he pushes himself in and out. While he never fails to make you feel good, you intend to dedicate this night to him. He deserves the relief more than you. The longer this played out, the harder it became for Dan to suppress his urges, his knuckles turning white from the force he’s gripping your hips. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face, raising your concern.

“Are you all right?” You whisper, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“I’m—” He bites his lip, suppressing the groan that tried to escape. “—I’m fine. It feels nice.”

Gradually, he begins thrusting into you with more power, your body falling forward, unable to remain upright. He rubs your back, now carefully nibbling the exposed section of your shoulder. His teeth glide over you like a dagger, sending a shiver through your core. You reach the peak of your climax, back arched as he continues to fuck into you, relishing the way you react.

His breathing pattern resembles that of a predator in the wild, the deep grumbles and pants revealing how much of his energy he’s exerting to get you this way. Unable to hold on, you release your orgasm, repeating his name quietly as you ride out the waves of pleasure. His nails dig into you, his final few thrusts sloppy. He held you close to his chest as he came inside of you, refusing to break the connection just yet.

Both of you are gasping, exhausted from the intimacy. Taking advantage of his current position, he litters your arm with kisses, lifting you up to get a look at what he has managed to do to you. Your neck has bruised, alongside a few of the bites on your collarbones; a breathtaking sight to see. You’re marked up by him, completely spent. All his.

The silence between you remains until the sound of heavy breathing dies down. When composed, he slips out of you, watching as his cum spills out of your hole. Reaching for a packet of tissues, he cleans himself and then wipes you down, removing the sticky fluid from your body so you don’t become uncomfortable. You roll off of him, lying on your stomach while he stands. As he’s walking to grab you a more comfortable set of clothes to borrow, he catches a glimpse of his appearance from the reflection of a frame on the wall. He had completely forgotten he revealed his true form, not feeling the horrors associated with the person of his past.

Returning to your side, he helps you up and slips a sweatshirt over your head, readjusting your hair for you. Large scratch marks trail down the length of your back, something he’s too ashamed to tell you about at this given moment. You were a mess, but you’re still as flattering in his eyes as you are usually.

“Go get your teddy. It’ll look strange in the morning when people pass by your door. I’m going to use the restroom.”

“I’m tired.” You yawn, pressing your forehead to his chest while he slides back into his pants.

“I’ll grab it for you then. We can watch the first episode of that series while we try to get some sleep. It’s late.” He flashes his phone screen at you, the large numbers declaring 1:01AM.

Silently leaving the archives, Dan grabs the teddy he gifted you from the floor of the passenger cabin as he redirects himself to the restroom. While in there, he can’t help but stare at himself in the mirror, realising he has a smile on his face as opposed to the usual sombre expression when he sees himself this way. A snicker leaves his mouth as he notices in detail each tiny mark you left on him, rendering it equal to the damage he left on you.

Tossing the teddy at you, Dan climbs back under the blankets and rests his head against yours, clicking play on the first episode of a series he had been hoping to watch with you. Even though you were drowsy, you kept yourself awake with small talk, grateful he trusted you enough to allow you to enter his personal space during such a tough time. As the episode plays out, you can see Dan waiting for the correct opportunity to speak.

“If I ever return home, I’d like you to accompany me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” His tone was matched by the tender smile on his face, squeezing you tighter in the cuddle.

“I’ll go wherever you go. We’ll stay by each other’s side for the rest of time.” You reply, closing your eyes with a passionate flare sparking flames in your heart. You can rest peacefully knowing that no matter how long it takes, you’ll ensure he can live freely in his own body, being able to experience all the joys life has to offer without feeling the need to hide.

#💌 — writing pieces #dan heng x reader #dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr fanfic #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #smut #hsr smut #18+ divider: cafekitsune #art cred: artofjuu (x)

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bloobydabloob · 2 months

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Holy shit I love your Dirk interpretations, it's so true and I could talk about this shit forever. I feel like another part of his character that people seem to forget (along with Roxy for some reason) is that he's from the future in solitude in an apocalyptic wasteland. I just see that part of his character always removed which is disappointing because I feel like that's a pretty big part, especially regarding his themes around technology, his brother's theme of Time, his own isolation, and how he plays in the vastness of the universe and spacetime.

Art I drew related to the subject because I like to respond to asks with art.

But absolutely. I certainly understand where the lack of discussion over his isolation + upbringing comes from, considering a majority of the fanbase that I have seen builds their ideas based on their own version of postcanon. I’m not entirely sure how that would be fixed, but certainly even in the somewhat recent past I would see a lot more content regarding his upbringing both literally and symbolically. I don’t have much to add regarding the things you’ve mentioned, because they just are what they are. Dirk being confined to a singular room left to him by a father figure he never met, in a future where the only other person left on the planet is someone he cannot pursue a relationship of because of himself, with purely 3 robots to keep him companion, one being an exact replica of his own brain who is *also* trapped inside a pair of glasses, is about as literal as it gets to me.

The contrast to me involving the flooded, organic world in comparison to the little speckle of Dirk’s apartment packed with the dude and his technics is not only a representation of his isolation and entrapment within himself, but also of his lack of control. I think his obsession with & themes of control are a direct product in the case of Dirk specifically *of* this kind of upbringing. His themes of technology are also related to his themes around control. So much of his character is actually revolved around this to me like so much. Dirk is so deeply disconnected from humanity in every way and so much of his character + symbolism is based around that.

It doesn’t even have to be about the symbolism or anything though. It’s just pretty *interesting* in the literal sense that he lives in the middle of the ocean in the future. There’s not only a lot to theorise on to do with his young life there, but on how it might affect him in the way he acts for the rest of his life. The latter part is probably what I see mentioned the most by people talking about Dirk regarding this, I’m surprised I don’t see more discussion on the former too though. I really ought to actually talk more about Homestuck stuff on here. I will do it myself.

Roxy & Dirk’s relationship is largely ignored though because there is a narrative a certain demographic spreads that Dirk resented and blamed Roxy for her interest in him, and thus too many people believe that their relationship was or would continue to be an abusive one. Realistically, I believe it’s important to acknowledge that the way Roxy treated Dirk regarding his homosexuality wasn’t right while still acknowledging the obvious amount of respect and admiration Dirk had for Roxy. I mean we have a huge piece of dialogue from their post trickster mode conversations on the quest beds from Dirk purely stating how he feels about Roxy that people completely ignore somehow. I think this usually happens to characters that are women though. I know everyone says it, but it is true. Jane gets the exact same treatment of boiling her down to solely her negative aspects. The things I see completely mischaracterising both of them are horrific.

I mean how much more explicit can it get that their relationship is obviously very important to Dirk? But I digress. I think the best or I should say “most interesting” interpretations of their relationship usually come from DirkRoxy shippers actually.

I would be interested to hear about Dirk’s relation to his brother’s theme of time though. I don’t have any thoughts on this and I don’t recall ever hearing anyone talk about it before. If you or anyone else would be willing to enlighten me I’d be thrilled.

#homestuck #homestuck fanart #hs fanart #dirk strider #blooby posting #ask #Sorry for taking so long to reply to you on this. I’ve been in more of a drawing than a speaking mood lately #which is very unusual for me. This is definitely not as much of a post as it could be but I’m still not back on my thought and speech game #I know the Roxy mention was in brackets but good lord the treatment Roxy gets from fanbase is insane. Couldn’t help myself #Sorry if anything is worded badly. I’m tired per usual #I think (with no malice in my heart) people just tend to leave out what they don’t like about characters though.#I was very briefly talking with Pomme johnegbertirl #and it got me thinking about how far a lot of people’s interpretations of characters stray from what would be realistic to canon #based on their own biases. Which I guess I probably do too to a certain degree.#I’m not one to judge people for their characterisations at all #I tend to be very forgiving when it comes to reads #but… I admit that is indeed a little disappointing to see how completely ignored some parts of his characters are.#Sorry for tangent that is tenuously related. It is relevant enough to shove haphazardly into tags #I’m glad you like my Dirk ramblings though. Thanks brother #We live on

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kymerawrites · 3 months

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How much it hurt standing right there, on the balcony of his two-story house, the thought of him getting married to another woman tomorrow was making your heart bleed. You leaned against the railing with a frown on your face, a glass of champagne in your hand and your eyes throwing daggers at the moon. Simon decided to invite all Task Force 141 for a drink the night before the big day, you could hear them all laughing and cheering downstairs in the living room, but you couldn’t even put a small smile on your lips.

You loved him and he loved you back, you thought things could still work between the two of you, he thought differently. He didn’t know how to show his love, his care, it hurt you and he knew it perfectly, that’s why he decided to break things off with you. And now? After one year you still haven’t moved on and now he was going to marry another woman. You heard someone clear his voice and immediately turned around, Simon was there with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes staring deeply at yours, “shym.. Why are you here alone?” He asked, his tone holding a little sadness.

You let out a scoff before turning your gaze down towards the garden, watching a couple of butterflies landing perfectly on the grass, “because I’d rather not be around for this,” you muttered, the grip on your glass of champagne tightening. He sighed and walked closer to you, joining you in standing against the railing of the balcony and keeping a respectful distance.

“You’re invited, why would you not want to be here?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before letting his gaze drop on you. You rolled your eyes and drank half of the liquid from your glass before replying, “Because I don’t want to watch my ex-boyfriend getting married to another woman.” You murmured with bitterness in your tone.

“Even though we’re still colleagues, I cannot just act like I don’t care Simon..” I took a big chug of my wine before looking down to the grass

His eyes softened as he realized how you truly felt about the situation, he could blame nobody but himself. He was the stupid one. He let out another heavy sigh and leaned against the railing, his shoulders dropping and his body slightly falling forward, as if a weight was on his shoulders, “I know-“ he paused and closed his eyes before continuing, “but the decision has been taken.”

“Why mia… why her Simon what was so special about her that overshadowed me?”

“You want me to tell you why did I choose her?” He asked and you could just hear how tired and frustrated his voice was. You turned your head to look at him and saw how tired he looked, probably tired from hearing the same question for the past few weeks after he told you that he was going to marry her and not you, “yes,” you said in a stern voice, “why her and not me?”

Simon thought for a split second “Mia, she was someone who saved my life, kept me company while I was almost dying on that battlefield..and we just fell for eachother, I couldn’t let that eat me up.”

Your heart dropped as Simon spoke, he fell for her while you were waiting for him here. You felt a pang of jealousy and anger towards her just from hearing the words leaving his mouth. You turned your body fully towards him and narrowed your eyes at his face.

“You fell for her on the battlefield?” You asked in disbelief, “while I was here waiting and worrying for you?”

He slowly nodded his head. “You don’t understand, she kept me company while I was in my lowest point during those days on the battlefield, I-“ he paused and licked his lips as he remembered those days where he didn’t give a damn if he lived or died and he was close to death so many times, yet Mia was there, taking care of him and talking to him as he just laid there, unable to speak or move.

Your eyes widened in shock and slight anger. “You don’t think I understood that?” You exclaimed, “Simon I was there for you too, I was texting you, calling you, worrying about your state every night!” You paused as you felt your eyes starting to heat “I was praying that you’d come back safely, that you’d come back home to me, but-“ you bit the inside of your cheek and took a deep breath as you tried not to yell at him, “but no- Instead you fell in love with another woman.”

He could basically hear your voice breaking as you spoke and his heart ached every second. “I know-“ he tried to speak up, but you didn’t let him, the last drop of rage finally hit you and you snapped at him.

“You know? Then why!? Why didn’t you choose me? Didn’t you love me like you love her!? Didn’t you care for me like you care for her!?” You yelled at him, not being able to hold your emotions back now.

“Of course I did! You know I did!“ He yelled back as he lifted his head and clenched his jaw, his hazel eyes staring deeply into yours. You looked straight into his eyes and felt a tear run down your cheek, “Then why?” You asked in a weak voice, “if you loved me and cared about me why didn’t you choose me instead?”

Another sigh escaped his lips and he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Because it’s different with her!“ He yelled back and he saw how another tear fell from your eye. He was hurting you, but he didn’t know how to explain you why it was different, “I don’t know how to explain” he spoke in a much calmer tone and leaned against the railing again, “she’s just different..”

I nodded “ah yes, because she never made mistakes, she was soft, loving and caring..” I paused “and I always did the opposite. Because I am harsh, an ex maffia member, someone who was obsessed with the thrill of life or death, money..” I looked at him angrily “is that the reason?”

Simon stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about your words. He knew that what you were saying was completely true, you have never been the soft or gentle type of woman, you could never love him as fiercely as Mia did. He lowered his gaze to his feet for a second and bit his lower lip before replying. “It is part of the reason-“

Your heart shattered even more as he confirmed your thoughts. “That’s exactly why isn’t it?“ You said in an almost inaudible whisper. “She loves you like a real lover should do.. while I do the opposite..” you muttered almost to yourself.

You chuckled humorlessly and shook your head, looking up at the night sky to hold your tears from falling down your face. “And the other reasons..?” You whispered, knowing you were stepping into a minefield.

He took a deep breath and let it out before answering your question. “It’s a.. lot of reasons actually.” He said in a much calmer voice than before. He could see and hear the pain in your voice and it made him want to comfort you, but he couldn’t do that. Not anymore. Not after everything.

“Then name them.“ You looked at him again, holding back all the emotions that were swirling in your brain, “tell me all the reasons that made you fall out of love for me and fall in love with her.”

He grunted and closed his eyes for a second before looking into your eyes again “first reason, the one you already guessed, is her nature. She’s sweet, gentle, kind, loving, she takes care of me when I need it.” He said in a low voice, his eyes locked into yours.

“Second,” he paused as he leaned forward and his body was now facing you fully, “she knows when to stop arguing and when to give in, she’s not stubborn like you.” He said without thinking and winced slightly.

He knew that the next reasons were going to rip you apart, that’s why he was taking time to give the perfect answer. “She’s not some mobster and a con.” He said in a cold tone as he looked up at you again.

Your eyes widened in shock when he spoke, you couldn’t believe that part of the reason was the fact that you were once a mafia member. “You-“ you spoke in a weak voice “you’re using my past as a reason?” You let out a humorless chuckle and shake your head.

“Don’t act surprised,” he said in a dry tone “you’re a criminal. A con woman and now an ex mobster.” He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly lifted his chin, staring into your eyes with a blank expression, “what do you expect?”

His cold words and expression felt like daggers into your heart and you closed your eyes momentarily to hold back your tears. “I know what I was, but I never expected you to use it against me.” You said in a quiet voice.

“You know how I was forced in that and the horrific situations I experienced and needed to endure..”

He bit his lip and his body tensed when you spoke about your past, he remembered hearing your stories more than once. He knew it was cruel to use that against you, but he just wanted you to understand, “Yes I do..” he said in a serious and firm voice “and that’s another part of the problem.”

“I don’t want to hear it anymore Simon�� I couldn’t get over you because I love you.. or well loved you.” A tear welled up in my eye “you just proved me why I should not even want to speak to you again.”

He clenched his jaw when he saw the tear rolling down your face and closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to reach over and wipe the tear off your face, his hands were itching to feel your skin again, but he knew he couldn’t touch you. This was already too painful for both of you. He looked at you again and saw how much pain you were in. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said in a low tone, “I just wanted you to understand..”

“Understand your bullshit reasons to marry another woman,” you whispered and wiped the tear off your face with the back of your hand. You couldn’t take this anymore, hearing him give you so many reasons why he won’t choose you was slowly killing you.

He flinched slightly when you cursed, he also couldn’t stand seeing you in pain like that. “Those same bullshit reasons are the ones I’m choosing her over YOU!“ He snapped. He was losing control of his emotions hearing you speak and seeing your hurting expression.

“Then why are you still trying to explain them to me?” You spoke, feeling your anger rise as well, getting tired of his attitude. “You already chose her, you’re going to marry her tomorrow, then why are you wasting your time to explain me something you shouldn’t?!”

He let out a scoff and leaned more towards you, “Because I don’t want you to think that I’m only doing this out of spite! I’m in love with her okay?! And I’m going to marry her because I want to, I want to spent the rest of my life with her!” He yelled at you, letting out all his bottled up emotions.

I just stayed silent and looked at the stars in the sky before turning my face back to him “then I wish you well in live Simon.” And I walked downstairs towards the door

His heart sank when you walked away like that, you just stopped fighting, you just gave up. “That’s it?” He said in disbelief before he started walking after you, closing the distance between the two of you in a few strong steps. He grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking.

He turned you around so that you would be facing him and held your arm firmly to prevent you from walking away from him. He stared into your eyes as he spoke, his voice low. “That’s it?” he repeated, “you’re just leaving? Not even going to fight for me?”

You felt like your emotions were about to explode anytime now, he had no right to speak like that. “What the hell do you want me to do?!” You almost shouted, looking him straight in the eyes, “what more am I supposed to say!? You don’t want me, you chose another woman! I’m not going to fight when it’s already lost.”

He tightened his jaw and his grip on your arm. He didn’t know why he was so upset when you said those words. He should’ve been happy that you gave up, but he wanted to see the feisty woman that never surrender, he wanted you to fight for him. But the words you were saying to him made his heart ache. You were giving up on him, you just accepted that he was marrying another woman.

His expression softened when he saw more tears in your eyes and he slowly loosened his grip on your arm, holding it gently now. He took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice calm. “Say something. Yell at me, tell me I’m a bastard, that you hate me. Anything.”

You inhaled a shaky breath and tried to hold back your tears. Seeing him like this made your heart ache as well, but you knew you had to be strong, “What for? Do you want me to humiliate myself and beg you to pick me? Beg you that you will see how much I love you?”

“Well guess what Simon, I want you to thrive in your upcoming marriage and I don’t want to be seen as an obstacle, I don’t want to see you again Simon..” and I walked out the door and shut it close

And at that moment I felt like I lost myself, lost control. I called Shepard to surrender myself from the army and called an old friend of mine.

I called Amanda “shym is that really you? Girl we’ve missed you so much!”

Amanda’s excited tone on the other side of the phone made your heart clench slightly, you missed your old friend. A lot.

“How is angels palace doing Amanda? I want to come back. I miss everyone..”

“Oh we’re all good but we all miss your presence!” Amanda said in a cheerful tone “Come back here you crazy bitch, we all miss our queen.”

I smiled as tears welled up in my eyes again “so my dad isn’t angry at me leaving him?”

“Yeah he’s still sulking about it“ said Amanda before bursting into laughter “it’s kinda funny whenever someone mentions you, he just puffs like an angry child. But I know and everyone knows that secretly he’s missing your smartass comebacks.”

“And most of all his backbone, you were thriving and making us a lot of money, you need to come back.. Sol.”

A chuckle escaped your lips when she used your old name, nobody called you like that anymore. “Stop it, you’re making me miss that place even more. I swear to God if I get home and I don’t see my favorite drink at the bar I’m going to strangle your ass.”

“My flight leaves at 9 AM, I’ll see you around 7 PM in the evening alright?”

“Perfect, just be prepared to drink tons of my good old cocktails.” Amanda said and you could sense the excitement in her voice.

I drove home and instantly packed all my belongings and my cat, couldn’t leave the poor guy behind. I left my keys in the plant pot and put a note for my tenant that I payed last month rent and I’ve moved out.

After everything was in your bags and the car, you sat down in the driver’s seat and drove straight to the airport. You were already excited to see your old home again and meet your old friends, but your heart still ached from the whole Simon situation.

You checked in your bag and sat down in the waiting area for your flight. People were all around you, walking, chatting, all seemed normal. But you felt heavy and tired, you couldn’t get Simon’s face out of your head. You closed your eyes to rest for a moment.

You were awakened by the announcement on the speakers that your flight was about to start boarding up. You slowly opened your eyes and stood up from your sit, grabbing your bags. You slowly made your way to the boarding desk, showing the worker your ticket before making your way onto the plane.

Time to go back to bogota..

You made your way to your seat at the plane and strapped the seatbelt around your waist. You inhaled a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment, trying not to think about Simon.

‘He’s marrying that stuck up doctor today, I hope everything goes well for them’ I thought

Even thinking that made your heart ache. You hated the thought of him marrying another woman. You took a deep breath and took out your headphones, deciding to play some music to distract yourself.

The flight seemed long, but at least the loud music was helping you to distract from your thoughts. You were listening to some of your favorite songs when the pilot announced your arrival to Bogota.

Back in London it was Simon, trying to call you multiple times since yesterday

He sat alone in his kitchen with his head resting on his crossed forearms. He hasn’t slept and he had bags under his eyes. He picked his phone up again and called your number, hoping that this time you would answer.

He tapped his foot on the floor anxiously and held his breath, listening to the beeping. But then he heard your voicemail again, causing his expression to tense up. He growled in irritation and was about to throw the phone but he quickly stopped himself and called your number again.

He impatiently waited for your voice but heard your voicemail again. He let out another loud sigh and leaned against his chair, covering his face with one of his hands. He was getting fed up, why weren’t you answering?

He dropped his hands from his face and looked at Soap who was grinning widely. He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes with annoyance, “Yeah I’m marrying her today, not even a bloody congratulations?”

Soap scoffed as well and shook his head, “I wouldn’t compliment your choice mate and you know that” he said and sat down next to him, patting his shoulder “are you actually going through with this?”

He leaned back in his seat and avoided eye contact with Soap, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Why wouldn’t I?” He asked in a rough tone, “she’s the one I’m marrying in a couple of hours remember?”

Soap narrowed his eyes at him “because you haven’t slept at all, and you haven’t even spoken to your fiancé since yesterday” he said in a suspicious tone, he knew his friend well and knew that something was wrong.

He averted his gaze from Soap and clenched his jaw. He hadn’t spoken to her, he had called her multiple times but you weren’t answering him, which irritated him even more. He hated the fact that he was having second thoughts and he hated the fact that you still had such an effect on him. “I’m just stressed about the whole marriage situation.” He lied.

Soap chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, “You, stressed? You’re one of the most calm and composed guys I know” he said in a disbelieving tone, he knew he was hiding something.

He let out a loud scoff and finally looked up at Soap, his expression still tense “even I can get stressed sometimes Soap. Can you just cut me some slack for now?”

Soap raised his hands in defense and gave him a smirk, “Alright mate settle down, was just messing with you” he said and gave him a playful pat on his shoulder “but seriously, are you alright?”

He inhaled a shaky breath and leaned his head back to rest on his chair. He had never opened up to anyone about something like that before. But Soap was his close friend and he trusted him the most out of everyone. He let out a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling “No, I’m not.” He admitted slowly.

“It’s shym.” He said bluntly

Soap’s eyebrows knotted together in confusion “shym? What about her?” He asked in disbelief.

He let out a tired exhale and closed his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at Soap “She just won’t leave my mind, every time I try to stop thinking about her she’s still there” he admitted, he felt relieved that he was finally telling someone about how he felt, especially Soap who was his best friend.

“You still love shym don’t you..” he said firmly

He stayed silent for a moment, his expression tense. He slowly looked up at Soap and nodded “yeah, I still love her, more than anyone in the world” he admitted in a firm tone “I never stopped loving her.”

Soap raised his eyebrows in surprise. Out of all the possibilities of why his friend was so distracted, he didn’t expect his to say that. “Then why are you marrying another woman?” He asked in disbelief.

Simon looked at soap “because I also love Mia, a lot.. and she’s a better option.”

Soap let out a scoff and rolled his eyes, “How the hell is she a better option? Mate, you’re marrying a woman that you don’t even love that much, instead of the woman you truly love, do you even hear yourself right now?”

He looked away and clenched his jaw stubbornly “Mia is everything I need. She doesn’t distract me with her stupidity, she actually supports me and is there for me. She’s everything I need” he said as he tried to convince himself it was the truth.

Soap rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair, “That’s such bullshit mate and you know it.” He said in an annoyed tone, “You can’t marry a woman that’s not the one that you truly love. Can’t you just pull your head out of your ass and admit that you love shym?”

“It’s already too late, shym left with no trace.. I said some hurtful stuff yesterday and no one can find her now..”

Soap’s eyes widened in surprise and his heart ached for his friend. He didn’t want to believe that it was already too late. He walked back towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze “She can’t have disappeared like that, she must be somewhere..”

And now i returned to the hotel a coverup for a secret organization that trades and smuggles drugs and other stuff.

As you walked into the palace you saw many people who were close to your family or that you had done business with before. They all looked surprised but somewhat happy to see that you had returned. As soon as your father saw you, he exclaimed and spread his arms wide open before pulling you into a tight and emotional embrace.

“Family! My backbone has returned!”

All the people in the room clapped and cheered as you appeared. Your father kept his arm around your shoulders and held you close to him as he spoke out to everyone in the room. “My daughter has finally returned” he said in a proud tone, “I missed her so much, I cannot believe that she has returned to us, my family is finally reunited once more!”

PART 2 SOON

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #modern warfare #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley #codcanon #cod 141 #cod imagine #dead dove do not eat #task force 141 #taking care of the big guys who are all so bloody #the other woman

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ryukatters · 10 months

Text

9:18 PM — s. geto ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

content: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of self-ship coded, reader dates (shitty) men

pairing: suguru geto x gn! reader

a/n: got suguru on da brain rn. my first work for him! hello geto nation how we doin?? also i had to fight my autocorrect bc it kept changing geto to ghetto 😔

“Surely, you must lack respect for yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me," your best friend scoffs.

It's not uncommon for you to end up at Suguru's doorstep, teary-eyed and sputtering after another failed attempt at romance. But he's hardly ever this mean.

"What's so great about these guys? Tell me."

"They're...nice."

He sighs out your name in exasperation. He never uses that tone on you, ever. "You're literally miles out of their league. And they can't even afford to pay for both of your meals. How many times have you had to pick up the check for you and your date?”

You open your mouth to retort but wisely keep it shut. Suguru merely raises an eyebrow.

"Exactly. How can someone be ugly and broke? Then still have the audacity to reject you? Pick a struggle."

"Well excuse me, mister 'I don't need dating apps because everyone just comes to me.' Not everyone is as fortunate as you are when it comes to romantic prospects."

You're starting to question why you even came here in the first place. Indignation fills you as you slump down on Geto's couch, utterly defeated.

He sits down next to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee with an even gentler look in his eyes. Your best friend's always been so kind, so thoughtful. That, paired with the fact that he's pretty easy on the eyes makes it easy to understand why he has suitors flocking from left and right.

"Hey," he calls out, giving your knee a light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"'s fine."

"No, it's not. It was insensitive of me.”

You know what else isn't fine? Geto wants to ask. The fact that you don't know what kind of guy you deserve. He wills himself to keep quiet, for both of your sakes.

"Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. That you have some karmic lessons you need to learn and all that. You say that all the time."

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe love just isn't in the cards for me, Suguru. I mean, what else could all of this mean?"

You sniffle, and Suguru can feel his heart break into a million little pieces. He wants nothing more than to scoop up the shards and present them to you, in hopes that you can somehow press them back together to make it whole again. The same way you always come running back to him, the same way you trust him to mend your own heart time after time with gentle praise and reassurance.

"Maybe every heartbreak is just bringing you closer to 'the one,’" he offers, the hand that was previously on your knee now rubbing comforting circles on your back.

"Do you honestly believe in that shit, Suguru?" He doesn't blame you for being so cynical. He would be too, he thinks.

"I do," he professes without missing a single beat.

"How?" Not why, but how? How could he possibly understand? How would he know if fate's thrown his so-called one and only his way?

"Because I've felt it," he hums.

“You… have?” You’re not sure why you feel so disappointed all of a sudden. Why should you care if your best friend’s in love with someone?

“Why do you feel the need to look so far for love?” He counters.

“I…”

“Why don’t you try looking at what’s right in front of you for a change?”

That’s about as far as Suguru’s willing to lay it out for you— he hopes you can read in between the lines. Call it insurance— a way for him to spare his own feelings in case you decide he’s unworthy of your affection and toss him to the side of the road.

“Suguru, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say…”

Yes, you do. Suguru wants to say. Just think a little harder.

There’s a pregnant pause.

When he realizes that you’re unwilling to take another step forward, he figures he needs to just take the leap. Fuck the insurance. He needs to do as he says and prove to you that the trail of heartbreak behind you is all going to be worth it. Because you have him. Suguru can only hope that his love will be more than enough to heal you from a lifetime's worth of pain.

“Give me a chance,” he whispers, his hands enveloping yours as he brings them up to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please. I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated, how you deserve to be loved.”

You gasp, unsure how to receive such a confession— especially one from Suguru, nonetheless. The two of you stay frozen for what seems like an eternity. You— afraid, inexperienced with being on the receiving end of anything remotely romantic. Suguru— tense, confession lying heavy in the room. It weighs down his soul with each passing moment he’s not yours.

“Please,” he pleads, feeling the way your hands tremble in his. Or was it the other way around?

Fear begins to gnaw at Suguru’s insides, thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind as he wills himself to stay calm. He wants nothing more than to shrink into himself— until he hears you speak, tone light and teasing.

“Promise you won’t make me pay for our dinner on our first date?”

Suguru allows himself to let out a genuine chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#suguru at some point probably: alexa play you belong with me (taylor's version)#originally written for g*jo but suguru deserves to be in the spotlight too #kat's writing #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #geto x reader #getou x reader #getou x you #geto x you #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru fluff #geto fluff #suguru geto fluff

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pucksandpower · 11 months

Text

A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship

Max Verstappen x reporter!Reader

Summary: Max decides to get relationship advice from a book written in 1815 and it goes about as well as you would expect. But sometimes the wrong formula still gets the right answer

“In our modern age, when so many standards of propriety have shifted, a gentleman may find himself at a loss when attempting to court a young lady. The rules of etiquette that governed such relationships in decades past offered a framework to guide conduct and ensure all was done properly.

This humble volume intends to provide today’s gentleman that same guidance, so that he may pay suit to the object of his affection in a manner befitting them both. Within these pages, the reader will find what constitutes proper introductions, suitable topics of conversation, appropriate gifts or tokens of regard, and protocols for exchanging correspondence.

While society evolves, there remain certain courtesies that bespeak good breeding. Master these, and you shall go far in winning the hand of any respectable young lady.”

- Excerpt from “A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship” by Reginald Worthington, 1815

A gentleman must display impeccable manners, never using foul language and maintaining a calm and collected demeanor at all times.

“So Max, tell us how you’re feeling ahead of the British Grand Prix this weekend,” you ask, microphone in hand.

Max shifts in his seat, avoiding your gaze. “Uh, yeah, feeling good. The car has been quick so far this weekend in practice.”

You nod enthusiastically. As the newly appointed F1 reporter for Sky Sports, you’re eager to prove yourself in the paddock. And getting an exclusive interview with the reigning double world champion is a great start.

“You have not won at Silverstone before. Do you think you can do it for the first time on Sunday?”

“Absolutely. The team have been working hard and I think we have a good chance,” Max replies.

You glance down at your notes. “Now Max, let’s go back to last weekend in Austria. The incident with Lando on the first lap — can you walk us through what happened from your perspective?”

Max feels his face getting hot. The controversial collision is still a sore point after the race stewards penalized him. He takes a breath, pushing down his true feelings.

“Well, it was racing incident,” he says slowly. “Lando had a good start and was alongside going into turn one. It was tight between us and unfortunately we made contact.”

You raise an eyebrow. “But do you feel that you were more at fault? It seemed to be quite an aggressive move.”

Max clenches his fist under the table discreetly. Calm and collected, he reminds himself.

“Like I said, it was just racing. These things happen sometimes between us drivers.”

“So you don’t think it was an unsafe maneuver on your part?” You press. Your piercing gaze makes Max shift again.

Just stay polite, he thinks. But his frustration boils over.

“It was freaking racing, okay!” He snaps, his calm demeanor vanishing. “Shit happens! Lando didn’t leave me space and we collided. Don’t try to blame me!”

You lean back, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden outburst. Max’s heart drops, immediately regretting his loss of composure.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean to curse.”

“No worries, I understand it’s a sensitive topic,” you say evenly. But inside, you’re taken aback. You’ve never seen Max Verstappen react like this.

Desperate to get the interview back on track, you move to the next question. “Let’s talk about your rivalry on the track. Do you feel the tension has somewhat decreased this season as you run ahead with the championship?”

Max nods, clinging to the redirect. “All twenty drivers on the grid are competitors at heart. For sure the rivalry grows each season. Not everyone is fighting for the title so there’s less at stake for some but that can change at any moment. There is always respect between us.”

His standard PR answer seems to bore you. Glancing at the clock, you start wrapping up the interview.

“Last question, Max. Any special plans for the British Grand Prix weekend?”

“Eh, not really,” Max mutters, still kicking himself for losing his temper earlier. So much for gentlemanly manners around ladies. You’ll surely think he’s a foul-mouthed jerk now.

“Okay, I think that’s all we have time for,” you say, standing up. “Thanks again for the interview, Max, I know you’re quite busy here.”

“Yep, no problem,” Max mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

You turn to leave, but stop. “And Max? Don’t worry too much about the clash with Lando. It happens to all drivers sometimes. See you around!” You flash him a smile before exiting.

Max sits stunned for a moment after you leave. Even after his swearing and temper, you hadn’t been upset with him.

A grin slowly spreads across his face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined his chances after all!

Walking back to the Red Bull motorhome, Max can’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled at him, so warm and understanding. And how you smelled vaguely of lavender.

Max has been captivated since you arrived in the paddock but he has no idea how to approach you … or any woman for that matter.

His only experience is with fast cars, not beautiful reporters.

Pulling up to his driver room, Max is greeted by his physio, Bradley.

“How did it go mate? You look bothered,” Brad asks.

Max sighs. “That interview with Y/N was a disaster. I screwed it up!”

He recounts his slip-up angrily cursing about Lando to Brad, who tries to stifle a laugh.

“Really, that’s what you’re worried about? A little swearing? I’m sure she’s heard far worse around the paddock!”

“But the book said to never use foul language around ladies! To be a gentleman at all times! And I failed at the first test!” Max runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Now she’ll never consider me as a suitor.”

Brad gapes at him. “A suitor? Max, what century are you living in?” He glances down and notices the antique book peeking from Max’s backpack.

Grabbing it, Brad starts flipping through the pages incredulously.

“Wait, you’re actually trying to follow advice from this ancient thing to get a girl?”

Max tries to grab the book back, his cheeks reddening. “Give it back! Yes it’s old but shouldn’t dating still be proper and polite?”

“This stuff is wildly outdated. Just ask her out for drinks. Be yourself!” Brad gestures exasperatedly.

“I can’t just ask her out, are you crazy?” Max sputters. “What if she says no?”

Brad places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the bloody world champion. And you’re not too hard on the eyes. She’d be mad to turn you down!”

Max cracks a reluctant smile, appreciating the confidence in him. Maybe Brad is right, Max considers. He just needs to relax and stop overthinking things.

“Tell you what, the team is throwing a big party after the race on Sunday. Why don’t you invite Y/N as your date?” Brad suggests.

Max’s stomach flutters nervously at the thought. “I guess I could try ...”

Brad claps him on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Now hand that daft old book over so I can throw it in the bin.”

“No! I mean … I’ll hold onto it,” Max says, snatching it back.

It may be outdated but it still has some wise words, he thinks. Even if he doesn’t follow everything word-for-word, a brush up on manners couldn’t hurt.

Max feels reenergized. One mishap wouldn’t ruin his chances with you.

This weekend he would focus on winning the British Grand Prix. And then he would ask you to be his date for the after-party.

Properly, like a gentleman.

What could go wrong?

A gentleman should compose handwritten letters with eloquence and embellished language to express his sentiments, as these missives often carry great weight.

Max sits at the desk in his driver room, pen poised over a pad of stationary borrowed from the hotel.

He takes a deep breath.

My Dearest Y/N …

He pauses. How exactly does he eloquently express his feelings here? Chewing the pen anxiously, he tries again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Since first you did arrive upon the Formula 1 scene, I have been captivated by your beauty and grace ...

Max groans, crumpling up the paper. This sounds ridiculous! But the book had stressed the importance of handwritten letters to woo a lady. And with his shyness around you in person, writing a letter seemed the best approach.

If only he could find the right words.

Staring at the blank sheet of paper, Max thinks back to the British Grand Prix last weekend. He had taken Brad’s advice and invited you to the post-race celebrations as his date.

To his delight, you had happily accepted.

The party had been going perfectly. You both laughed and chatted easily over drinks. Then the DJ started playing and Max got the courage to ask you to dance. With your hand in his, bodies swaying gently together, Max was sure this was his moment to finally tell you his feelings.

But when he tried, the words tangled up inside. His throat went dry and he could only stare mute into your eyes. The song ended and the magic of the moment faded. You slipped away back to your friends, leaving Max cursing his nervousness.

Which is why he’s now resorted to writing a letter. If only he can find the right poetic phrases, he would be able to express everything in his heart.

Chewing his lip, Max starts again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Ever since you did arrive in this paddock, I have admired you from afar. Your beauty and spirit doth light up the Formula 1 world. Being in your radiant presence doth make my heart soar ...

Max frowns. He sounds like Shakespeare on steroids. This is getting him nowhere. Crumpling up another attempt, he gets an idea. He needs advice from someone more eloquent. Pulling out his phone, he selects Daniel Ricciardo’s number.

“Maxie! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Daniel answers cheerily.

“I need your help. I’m trying to write a letter to Y/N telling her ...byou know, that I like her,” Max mumbles. “But I’m struggling with the words. You’re so smooth and charming — any advice?”

Daniel laughs loudly through the phone. “A love letter mate? That’s adorable!”

Max rolls his eyes. “Haha. Yes, it’s hilarious. Do you have any tips or not?”

“Hmm okay, don’t stress too much over the fancy wording. Keep it simple and heartfelt, you know? Just speak honestly about why you like her.”

Max nods. “Right, speak from the heart. I can do that.”

“Go get her champ! Let me know if you need any more romantic advice,” Daniel teases.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Max hangs up with a smile.

Taking a fresh piece of paper, he starts writing.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to properly tell you how I feel about you. From the moment I first saw you in the paddock, I thought you were the most beautiful and amazing woman.

Your smile makes me weak. Being near you gives me butterflies in my stomach.

Spending time together at the party was really special for me. I wish I had told you then how I felt. But I get so nervous around you that the words don’t come out right. So I thought writing this might be easier.

I know we haven’t known each other long. But I would love the chance to get to know you more. Maybe we could have dinner sometime, if you feel the same way?

Let me know.

Yours,

Max

Max reads over the short letter and nods, satisfied. It’s simple and honest, just saying the thoughts he can never seem to speak out loud around you.

So, after carefully folding the stationary, Max slips out of the Red Bull motorhome in search of you.

Max finds you chatting with some other journalists near the media center. He hangs back shyly, waiting for you to be free.

You glance up and catch his eye, giving a smile and wave. Taking a deep breath, Max approaches.

“Hi, Y/N. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course!” You say, turning to him. The other reporters conveniently scatter, leaving the two of you alone.

“So uh, I wrote you this letter.” Max mutters, pulling the folded paper from his pocket. His palms are sweating and he rubs his neck nervously. “It’s just some thoughts I wanted to share with you.”

“Aww Max, you didn’t have to write me anything!” You beam at him sweetly.

Max shoves the letter toward you, willing himself to just give it over before he loses confidence. But as you reach out for it, anxiety grips him.

What if you reject him after reading it? Or worse, what if you show the soppy love letter to your coworkersto laugh about?

His pulse pounding, Max swiftly yanks the letter back. Before he can think twice, he starts hastily ripping it up into tiny shreds.

“Max!” You cry out in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, just realized how weird it was to write you something so personal,” Max stammers, face flaming red.

He lets the shreds of paper fall from his fingers.

“Oh.” Your face falls in disappointment. “That’s too bad, I’m sure it was very thoughtful ...”

An awkward silence follows. Max curses internally, hating himself. Why had he chickened out at the last second? He scrambles for something to say.

“Yeah, it was too forward of me,” he rambles nervously. “I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about us. Not that there is an us! I mean, we’re colleagues.”

You frown slightly in confusion. “Colleagues? I thought we were becoming friends ...”

“Right, yes friends!” Max amends quickly. “Friends is good. Don’t want rumors or gossip spreading. Not that what I wrote was gossip worthy! It was boring really, nothing important.”

He forces out a laugh, cringing at his bumbling excuse. You just stare at him in bewilderment.

“O-kay then ... well, I need to get back to work. See you around, Max.” You give him a strange look before turning away slowly.

Max watches you walk off, letting out a long groan once you’re out of earshot.

He slaps a hand to his forehead. Could that have gone any worse? He’d absolutely butchered it and now you must think he’s a complete weirdo.

Dejected, Max trudges back to the motorhome. He replays the scene in his head, berating himself over and over. If only he had the guts to just give you that letter!

Instead he had to go and make a complete fool of himself. There’s no way you have any interest in him now after witnessing that trainwreck.

Sulking back to his driver’s room, Max finds his teammate in the hallways.

“What’s up with you? You look like you just lost the championship,” Checo remarks.

Max just opens his door and flops down onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “I really screwed things up with Y/N ...”

He recounts the whole awkward encounter to Checo, who tries and fails to hold back laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Max snaps, tossing a scrunched up sock at him.

“Sorry, hermano,” Checo says, composing himself. “But really, I doubt it was that bad. Just explain to Y/N what happened and try again.”

“No way. It’s hopeless now,” Max moans. “I can’t face her after that.” He grabs one of the shredded letter pieces off the table, smoothing it out to reveal a fragment of his confession.

Crumpling it back up, Max tosses it aside bitterly. He definitely lost his chance thanks to his own nerves and stupidity.

Max does everything he can to avoid you over the next days, too embarrassed to face you after the letter fiasco. For your own part, you seem equally uncertain how to act around him now.

At races you keep interactions strictly professional. The ease and friendship that was developing between you is gone.

Max hates that he ruined everything before it could even really begin.

It’s not until the Dutch Grand Prix weeks later that you finally confront him.

“We should talk,” you say, catching Max alone after practice one day. “Why have you been avoiding me since Silverstone?”

Max shuffles his feet, staring at the ground. “I just made things weird with that letter. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You step closer, tilting his chin up gently so he meets your eyes.

“I thought the idea behind it was really sweet. I was so disappointed when you just ripped it up. I care about you, so don’t push me away, okay?”

Heart pounding, Max manages a sheepish nod.

You lean in slowly and kiss his cheek, pretending not to notice how his skin turns rosy.

“I’m still waiting to see what you wrote for me one day,” you whisper with a smile before walking off, leaving Max stunned.

Touching his cheek, a grin spreads across Max’s face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything after all.

The book might know a thing or two.

A gentleman should present small tokens of affection: Offering a lady flowers, a lock of hair, or a sentimental keepsake is a cherished practice.

Max paces the floor of his Monaco apartment, phone in hand as he scrolls through a website about flower meanings and symbolism.

Max clicks on the different options, overwhelmed. Who knew flowers were so complicated? Red roses mean passion but are too strong for courting. Yellow roses signify friendship. White lilies convey purity and innocence.

Max frowns. None of these seem quite right.

Finally he comes across the perfect choice — peonies. According to the guide, pink peonies signal romance, prosperity and good fortune.

Isn’t that romantic? This will be the ideal flower to to show how much he cares for you.

Satisfied with his floral choice, Max orders an impressive bouquet of pink peonies to be delivered to you before the upcoming race.

As soon as you receive them, he anxiously waits for your reaction.

To his disappointment, no thank you comes. In fact, you don’t acknowledge the flowers at all.

When Max finally spots you in the paddock on Thursday, his smile fades at your red-rimmed eyes and congested voice.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well,” Max frowns.

You give a stuffy laugh. “Thanks, just what every girl wants to hear.” Dabbing at your runny nose with a tissue, you sigh. “Sorry, I’m a mess today. Turns out I’m quite allergic to peonies. Those lovely flowers you sent put me out of commission the past two days.”

Max’s eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, you’re allergic to peonies? I had no idea, I’m so sorry!”

He mentally kicks himself. Some romantic gesture this was, practically making you ill. “I was just trying to do something nice ...” he says guiltily.

But you wave off his concern with a smile, touched that he went to such effort. “It’s really sweet of you, truly. They were beautiful. My immune system just seems to have other plans.”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let me make it up to you. What if I cook you dinner next week instead of flowers?”

Your cheeks flush slightly. “I would really like that.”

***

The following Tuesday, Max puts his meager cooking skills to use whipping up pasta. Pretty soon he has an aromatic tomato sauce simmering away while he slices bread for garlic toast.

When you arrive, bottle of wine in hand, Max greets you wearing a “World’s Okayest Chef” apron. Laughter and light banter flow easily between you two all evening. The domesticity of sharing a meal together feels wonderfully natural. Lingering glances and touches over the table make it clear this is now a proper date.

After dessert, you help Max tidy up the kitchen. Playfully flicking soap suds at each other soon turns into a full-on bubble fight. Laughing and stumbling into each other, Max ends up gently pinning you against the counter.

Your giggles trail off, smiles fading into something warmer. Slowly Max leans in, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

When you eventually pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours contentedly. No flowers or grand gestures needed.

Just this — being together.

***

Before free practice of the following race, Max seeks you out, fidgeting nervously with the small pair of scissors in his hands.

“I … I wanted to give you something special. A token of my affection for you.”

Before you can react, Max takes a lock of his light brown hair and starts snipping right there in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as the severed strands fall into his palm.

“It’s uh, a lock of my hair. For you to keep,” he explains, holding it out to you sheepishly.

You have to stifle a laugh at how earnest he looks. “Wow Max, that’s really thoughtful but you didn’t have to cut your hair for me!”

Max’s cheeks flush pink. “No, I want you to have it! To show, you know, that I’m devoted to you and all that ...” His voice trails off at your amused expression.

Maybe this romantic gesture is a bit stranger than he realized. But you take the lock of hair from him with a gracious smile.

“Well, I’ll always treasure a piece of you.”

His grin brightens. Then he remembers the other part of his gift. “Oh wait, there’s more!”

He pulls a small oval locket from his pocket and clicks it open to reveal an empty compartment.

“I thought you could keep the hair in this locket, close to your heart,” he explains earnestly. “That way you will always have a part of me with you.”

Your eyes soften, touched by the sentiment if not the unconventional nature of his gift. But seeing how much thought Max put into it makes you melt and you give him a quick kiss.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Here, would you put the hair inside for me?”

Carefully, Max places the strands into the golden locket and fastens it around your neck, face lit up.

“So you really like it then?”

You nod, gently clasping the locket in your hand. “I’ll cherish it always.”

A gentleman should bring a tasteful gift, such as a book of poetry or a hand-painted fan, as a gesture of appreciation for her hospitality when visiting a lady’s home.

Max double checks the address on his phone as he pulls up outside your London flat. He’s visiting for the first time today and wants to make a good impression.

Max looks down at your gift on the passenger seat — a squirming bengal kitten, licking up the treat Max had brought to calm her for the car ride.

You had completely fallen for his two rambunctious bengal cats when you met them at his apartment.

“They are just the cutest! I’ve always wanted a bengal,” you had cooed as Jimmy curled up contentedly in your lap while Sassy climbed across your shoulders.

So when Max saw that the ethical breeder he bought his cats from had this spirited little kitten available, he knew she would be the perfect gift for your first proper date at your home.

A living reminder of the night your relationship began.

Scooping up the wriggling furball, Max walks up and rings your buzzer.

You greet him at the door with a smile and quick kiss, then abruptly stop short at the sight of the kitten in his arms.

“Max, what is that?”

“It’s a bengal kitten!” He announces proudly, holding her up like he is reenacting The Lion King. “I got her for you, as a gift.”

He holds the mewling kitten out to you eagerly. You stare back, mouth agape.

“You got me a kitten? Max, that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Bengals cost thousands of euros, you can’t just show up with one. Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t seriously buy me a €3000 cat.”

Max’s smile falters, realizing suddenly how over-the-top the gift seems.

“I mean, I just wanted to do something really special for you,” he mumbles, face reddening.

The kitten lets out a pitiful meow. You bite your lip, conflicted. She really is adorable. And you know Max meant well with his lavish gesture. Sighing, you open your door wider.

“Okay, I guess I can’t turn away this cutie now. Come on in.”

Max’s face lights up in relief. “You’ll keep her then? That’s amazing!”

He carefully sets the energetic furball down and she immediately starts exploring. You have to laugh as she pounces and tumbles over her paws.

“She’s going to destroy all my stuff,” you stare resignedly as she claws her way up your upholstered couch, claws snagging the fabric.

Max waves off your concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for anything she ruins. And I’ll make sure she can come to races too, so you’re never apart.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You think they’re going to let a kitten into the paddock?”

“Lewis brings Roscoe so they have to allow cats too or it’s not fair! Don’t worry, I will make it happen,” Max declares confidently.

Despite yourself, you smile at his determination. Gazing down at the kitten now nibbling your toe, your reservations melt away.

She really has stolen your heart already.

“Well, I guess we’re in this together now, huh little one?” You murmur. “Thank you. I think she’s the perfect gift.”

His whole face lights up at those words. Impulsively, you stand on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I think I’ll name her Emiliana,” you suggest softly. “Since she’s my special gift from Max Emilian Verstappen.”

Max grins. “I love that idea.”

Maybe Max is out of touch with normal gift-giving. But looking into his smiling eyes, you know everything he does comes from a place of love. And you wouldn’t change his thoughtfulness for anything.

Even if it means welcoming a hyperactive €3000 kitten into your life.

A gentleman should exercise prudence and restraint in the event that his family honor is insulted. Engaging in a duel must be the last resort, pursued only when all other means of resolving the matter have been exhausted.

“Who’s ready for her first race?” You coo to Emiliana, clipping a leash on to her harness. The energetic bengal kitten twirls in excited circles hearing the jingle of her collar.

Max chuckles, scooping Emiliana up. “I know you’ll love exploring the garage!” Kissing her furry head, he nestles her safely in his jacket pocket for the walk over.

Arriving at the bustling paddock, Max gently puts Emiliana down to allow her to explore, the kitten’s wide eyes reflect the flash of cameras and bright team colors swirling around. With Max’s hand securely in yours, you both smile proudly showing her off to the other drivers and staff.

Most are delighted, stopping to fawn over the curious feline. But as you pass by the Alpine motorhome, she ends up scampering across the asphalt and almost tripping Esteban Ocon in the process.

“Ugh, control your overgrown rat!” He grumbles loudly.

Max freezes, blood boiling at the insult toward Emiliana. Clenching his fists, he spins to confront Esteban. But you grab his arm firmly.

“Max, stop. He’s not worth it,” you murmur. After a tense moment, Max reluctantly relaxes his stance, not wanting to cause a scene.

You steer him away, stroking Emiliana comfortingly. “Don’t listen to the mean man, sweetie. You are perfect.”

But Max continues seething silently.

The remainder of the weekend passes uneventfully and you assume Max has let go of the unpleasant encounter. But once the race starts, you grow anxious seeing the two drivers battling unusually close together.

Sure enough, despite leading comfortably, Max slows his car to allow Esteban to catch up. Your heart drops as Max then swerves aggressively into Esteban’s side, sending him spinning off in a blaze of shredded carbon fiber. Meanwhile, Max continues on unfazed to take the chequered flag.

You’re fuming when Max finally makes his way back to the garage. Seeing your crossed arms and fiery glare, his triumphant smile fades.

“I know what you’re going to say ...” he starts guiltily.

“That you promised not to seek revenge and then deliberately crashed Esteban?” You snap.

Max winces. “Seeing him just brought back all that anger ...”

“So you decided to punt him at 200 mph?” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“I was not thinking clearly,” Max scuffs his shoe. “My temper took over again.”

Your anger melts slightly seeing Max’s remorse. With a sigh, you pull him into a tight hug. “Do you have any idea how badly you both could’ve been hurt by pulling a stunt like that?”

Max looks down, properly chastised. “You’re right, it was really dangerous what I did.”

“Not to mention nearly ruining your own race!”

“I didn’t care about losing position,” Max admits. “I have already secured the championship. Defending Emiliana’s honor was more important in the moment.”

You shake your head. “Our kitten’s honor is not worth you risking your life! Please think these things through before acting so rashly.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t thinking straight,” Max says sincerely. “I promise to be more responsible going forward. No more putting myself or anyone else in danger over petty spats.”

He hugs you close again. “Thank you for keeping me rational and safe.”

You smile up at him with a soft laugh, letting some of your tension melt away. "Someone has to.”

A gentleman should keep a strict code of chivalry: Offer your seat to a lady, hold doors, and protect her from harm, both physical and emotional.

The Singapore Grand Prix is always a grueling one thanks to the heat and humidity. But this weekend, Mother Nature seems intent on making it even tougher.

Dark ominous clouds have been building all afternoon before finally bursting open right as final practice ends. Fat raindrops pelt down rapidly, sending the paddock scrambling for cover.

Safely under the shelter of the Red Bull garage, Max keeps an eye out for you. He knows you’re stuck in the media pen finishing interviews along with the other reporters.

Sure enough, he spots your ponytail across the pen, soaked through as you attempt to shield your equipment from the downpour.

Without thinking, Max hands off his mic and races out into the rain toward you. Holding his team jacket over your head, he guides you under the shelter of a nearby awning.

“Oh my gosh, Max! You’re soaked!” You exclaim, taking in his drenched state.

But Max just shrugs it off. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Couldn’t let you get caught out there though.”

He rubs your arms briskly, trying to warm you up. Seeing you shivering in your thin blouse — now transparent from the rain — Max feels a pang of protectiveness.

“Here, let me get you something dry ...” He sprints off, returning minutes later with a Red Bull hoodie and umbrella from his driver’s room.

Bundling you up in the warm dry clothes, Max finally relaxes. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. But I wasn’t about to leave you stranded in that!”

You smile up at him, sincerely touched. “My hero! Thank you, superstar.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft kiss. Max thinks that heart swells three sizes, thrilled that he was able to protect you.

As the weekend goes on, Max keeps finding little ways to display chivalry. Opening doors, giving you his seat, shielding you with umbrellas whenever the rain returns.

You assure him that the fussing is unnecessary but Max insists. He wants you to feel cared for and safe at all times.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the paddock shares that sentiment.

You’re rushing to grab some coffee before the race when you overhear a muttered conversation by a group of reporters that are huddled together.

“There she is — Verstappen’s girl ...”

“Ugh, it’s so obvious she only got the job with Sky Sports because they’re dating.”

“Sleeping her way to the top if you ask me. No way she’d be here otherwise ...”

Their cruel laughter cuts through you sharply. Blinking back sudden tears, you hurry away before they can notice you.

Of course you’ve dealt with doubters questioning your skill and merits before. It’s an occupational hazard as a woman in motorsport.

But having your relationship with Max twisted in such a way stings deeply.

Arriving at the grid, you paste on a smile and try not to let the nasty remarks ruin your day. You have always had to work twice as hard to prove yourself and you were not going to give up now.

But Max notices that something is off immediately. And, when you keep avoid his concerned gaze, he gently presses for answers.

“What’s wrong, liefde? And don’t say nothing,” he adds, seeing you open your mouth to brush it off.

You sigh, reluctantly telling him about the reporters’ hurtful comments. Instantly Max’s jaw tightens, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Who said that? Point them out to me.”

You hesitate, not wanting to cause a scene. But Max takes your hand firmly.

“I won’t let them get away with questioning your integrity like that. It’s unacceptable.”

So you subtly point out the gossiping reporters huddled nearby. Max’s gaze darkens. Turning on his heel, he marches straight for the media center.

By the time you catch up, he’s already deep in a terse conversation with Formula 1’s head of communications.

You watch in astonishment as the offenders’ media access is promptly revoked despite their loud protests. But Max stands firm, insisting this is non-negotiable if he is expected to keep participating in his media duties.

When he finally returns to you, his anger has melted away into concern. “I’m so sorry you had to hear their garbage. Don’t ever listen to it, okay? You are brilliant at what you do.”

Your eyes well up again but this time from gratitude. Even during the pre-race chaos, Max made defending you his top priority.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “My knight in shining racing gear.”

Max just holds you close, wishing he could shield you from all harm. Because your happiness and comfort are paramount to him. And Max will gladly take on any dragon — or unscrupulous reporter — that dares to threaten that.

With Max by your side, ready to come to your aid in rain or shine, you know everything will be okay.

A gentleman should always be well-dressed in the latest fashions and ensure that his cravat is tied to perfection.

Max frowns down at the open suitcase on his bed, clothes strewn everywhere. He’s digging through the wardrobe he packed trying to find something stylish to wear for the United States Grand Prix.

The problem is, Max has no idea what the latest fashions even are. Jeans and a team-branded shirt are his staples both on and off the track. But he needs to make more effort for you.

Sifting through his options unsuccessfully, Max sighs. There’s nothing here that screams high fashion. He would have to do the unthinkable and ask advice from someone … like Lewis Hamilton.

Max cringes at the thought of approaching his rival for fashion help. But Lewis is always complemented for his outfits so he is clearly an expert on the subject.

Swallowing his pride, Max fires off a text before he can overthink it.

To his surprise, Lewis responds enthusiastically with suggestions and styling tips. Their competitive rivalry is momentarily forgotten as the veteran driver dedicates all day to helping Max looking sharp.

Arriving at the paddock on Thursday morning, Max scrutinizes his reflection anxiously while scanning his pass. He’s wearing slim-fitting distressed jeans with a silky patterned shirt that Lewis instructed was to be left half-unbuttoned.

Definitely way flashier than his normal attire but Lewis assured him it was very on-trend. So Max takes a deep breath and heads out to find you.

Your eyes widen in surprise taking in his dramatic style overhaul. “Whoa, look at you!”

Max preens a bit, relieved that you don’t seem to be put off by his bold fashion choice.

“I figured it was time to elevate my fashion game,” he spins cheekily to show off the full look.

You have to stifle a laugh at seeing straight-laced Max suddenly dressing like a runway model after fans used to be shocked to see him in anything other than a white shirt.

It’s certainly different but cute that he’s putting in so much effort for your relationship.

As the weekend continues, so does Max’s parade of high fashion outfits. He turns up looking like he stepped off a catwalk in trendy printed shirts, embroidered jackets, and even sequined trousers.

By Sunday, the dramatic style transformation has paddock tongues wagging. Max appears entirely oblivious to the gossip though, just happy that his attempts to impress you seem to be working.

But watching him awkwardly fidget with the billowing oversized silk sleeves of today’s shirt as he tries to focus on preparing for the race, you realize that this isn’t your Max. Not really.

Catching his eye, you gesture for him to join you out of earshot and away from the view of cameras. Gently taking his hands, you meet his gaze.

“Be honest with me, what’s going on with the makeover? This isn’t like you at all.”

He ducks his head with a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to dress nicely for you this weekend. Like a proper gentleman.”

You lift his chin until he’s looking at you again. “You don’t have to try and be someone else for me. I like you for you — jeans, team kit, and all.”

Max’s shoulders relax in relief. “Yeah?”

“Of course! Please don’t feel like you ever have to change.” You lean up to kiss him softly. “Now let’s get you into some racing gear, champ.”

A gentleman should know that prolonged eye contact is a powerful tool for conveying one’s intentions.

“So Max, I have to ask about the incident with Carlos last race. Do you think your aggression was over the line?”

You fixes Max with an inquisitive gaze, microphone poised as you wait for his response. But instead of answering, he just stares back intensely without blinking.

After a long awkward pause, you shift in your seat. “Uh, Max? Did you hear my question?”

“Hmm? Oh right, yeah. It was just racing, these things happen,” he says vaguely, eyes never leaving yours.

You move on to the next question, puzzled by his distracted behavior. Throughout the interview, Max continues gazing at you unwaveringly.

It’s a bit unsettling to have him stare so fixedly without looking away.

Finally you wrap up the stilted conversation, feeling relieved to escape his laser focus. What was up with that?

Over the weekend, you catch Max staring silently at you on numerous occasions — in hospitality, on the grid, across the garage. Without blinking or looking away, he’ll fix you with that powerful gaze until you flush and look away first.

By Sunday you’ve gotten used to the drawn out m moments of extended eye contact.

But during the post-race press conference, Max cranks it up a notch. As you ask Charles a question about the race, you feel Max’s eyes boring into the side of your face. Glancing over, you nearly fumble your recorder.

He’s just ... staring. Blatantly. Right at you as you’re trying to have a professional conversation.

The other drivers keep sneaking amused looks between you two and trying to hide their snickers.

You finally wrap up hurriedly, flustered by Max’s unrelenting eye contact. As the rest of the press file out, you hang back.

“So the whole staring thing ... we’re really doing that huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Max has the grace to look sheepish. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to throw you off! I’ve just been trying to connect with you even more.”

You have to stifle a laugh imagining him sternly holding his own gaze in a mirror for practice. “I could tell! But maybe dial it down a little bit during interviews?”

Rubbing his neck, Max chuckles. “Yeah good call.”

He’s quiet for a moment before meeting your eyes again, this time softer. “I do like the way it makes me focus just on you though. Like the rest of the world fades away.”

“Yeah,” you duck your head, “I like that part too.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Reaching out, he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

When Max leans in, eyes fluttering closed, you let yourself get lost in the moment. The outside world disappears and all that’s left is his lips on yours, saying more than words ever could.

A gentleman should never speak of his own accomplishments or wealth in a boastful manner, instead let your actions and character speak for themselves.

“Liefde, have you seen my phone charger?” Max calls from the living room of his apartment. “Nevermind, found it!”

He grabs the charger off of the coffee table, narrowly avoiding knocking over the World Drivers’ Championship trophy displayed prominently in the center.

You stifle an amused smile as you enter. Ever since you jokingly teased Max about being humble, he has made his accomplishments strangely hard to ignore.

Like the fact that his trophy room door now mysteriously stays wide open whenever you’re over. Or how he keeps offering for you to take Air Max whenever you need to travel instead of flying commercial. It’s his unique way of bragging without actually saying a word.

Joining him on the sofa, you have to shoo away one of the cats that is trying to swat the trophy off the table. Max just grins.

“Sassy really loves that thing! Although I guess I can’t blame her, it is very shiny.”

You laugh, curling into his side. “It certainly seems to belong front and center lately. Along with your three championship-winning helmets on the table in the foyer.”

Max attempts an innocent look that doesn’t quite stick. “What? They’re nice decorative pieces!”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. Glancing around, you note magazine covers bearing his face displayed on the walls along with a framed race-worn suit hanging randomly next to the kitchen.

Meeting his eyes, you give him a knowing look. Max holds your gaze for a moment before cracking.

“Okay fine, I may have highlighted some ... accomplishments since your little humble comment,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

You have to laugh. “Max, you know I was just teasing you! I would never want you to downplay your achievements.”

Twisting to face him, you take his hands in yours. “You’ve worked so hard for everything you have. Please don’t feel like you can’t be proud about it.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know and I am really proud of my racing success.” Glancing around the trophy-filled apartment, he chuckles. “Maybe a bit too loudly recently.”

You lean in to kiss him tenderly. “I love you and I’m so proud of you. But it’s this,” you tap his chest on top of his heart, “This is what made me fall for you, not the jet or the trophies.”

“Yeah?” Max asks, eyes crinkling happily.

You snuggle into his shoulder. “Of course. You’ll always just be my Max.”

But then the gifts start arriving. An Hermes Birkin bag here … some Van Cleef jewelry there. Presented nonchalantly but you know that their extravagance is no accident.

Finally, you have to say something when a couture Chanel gown appears in your hotel room one day.

“What’s going on with all these gifts all of a sudden?” You ask gently.

“Nothing! I just want to treat my amazing girlfriend the way she deserves to be treated.”

You raise an eyebrow and look … and look … and look … until Max cracks. “Okay fine, I may have been trying to show off a bit,” he admits. “But it’s hard not to when I want to give you the world!”

Your expression softens. Taking his hands, you wait until he meets your eyes.

“You could give me plastic rings and clothing from the thrift store and I would be just as happy. Your love means everything to me, not material things.”

“Really?”

You nod and climb into his lap to connect your lips in a slow kiss. Pulling back, you add teasingly, “But I am keeping the dress.”

He laughs, all tension vanishing. “Of course, it will look incredible on you. Like everything does.”

A gentleman should demonstrate a willingness to adapt to a lady’s interests and preferences, cultivating shared hobbies and passions.

“Here we are!” You announce, gesturing at the entrance of the padel club. “I know you’ll love this. It combines the best parts of tennis, squash, and racquetball.”

Taking Max’s hand, you lead him inside eagerly. You’ve been trying to get him to try padel, your favorite hobby, for ages. Finally convincing him to play while visiting him in Monaco, you do a quick rundown of the rules in the locker room.

“So basically we score just like in tennis but the walls and mesh are also in play. You can use them to bounce shots off of strategically,” you explain, miming hitting the ball off the glass wall.

Max nods along, game face on. He’s determined to share your passion for this sport.

“Got it. Use the walls, beat the opponents, win the match,” he summarizes confidently.

You laugh. “Pretty much! Now let’s go kick some butt out there.”

Gripping your paddles, you head onto the slick court. Max gravitates right to the mesh wall, intrigued by the unique setup.

You have to hide your grin — he’s like a kid exploring and testing shots out eagerly. His competitive nature means that he is completely engrossed within minutes.

And Max certainly has a knack for padel. His fast reflexes and coordination transfer over as he adapts his technique. Soon you’re both moving seamlessly around each other, dominating the points against a random couple Max had convinced to play against the two of you.

Hours later, sweaty but exhilarated, Max slings an arm around you grinning.

“That was epic! This is such an awesome game, I can’t wait to play more.” His excitement makes your heart swell. Nothing better than sharing your interests with someone special.

Over the next weeks, you find any excuse to play padel together. On lazy mornings, Max coaxes you out of bed. During race weeks, you even manage to squeeze in a few matches after media day.

Soon Max transforms into a padel fanatic, always scouting new courts and competition. His dedication to mastering every shot warms your heart. And the silly trash talk and celebrations make every match so much fun.

It was no surprise when Max decided to organize a players tournament between races. Getting the other drivers involved had your makeshift paddock league battling it out.

“Here for the padel party!” Daniel crows, showing up in head-to-toe tennis gear.

Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Pierre are there too, warming up their swings. You help Max demonstrate the rules, the other guys teasing him good-naturedly about his new obsession.

Once play begins though, the intensity heats up quickly. Max’s laser focus kicks in as he charges around you protectively, looking to crush anyone who dares hit near you. Luckily you hold your own plenty well too against the drivers.

When the final point is called in your favor, Max tackles you in an exuberant hug, the guys applauding around you. Grinning and flushed with exertion, you all head inside to refuel and celebrate a fun day of sport and competition.

One padel date turned into a shared passion that bonded you both with the other drivers too. And seeing your smile reflecting Max’s own euphoric one, you know this is only the start of many joyful tournaments and casual games together.

Maybe Max went a bit over-the-top in his newfound padel fever. But his willingness to dive headfirst into your interests fills you with more love than you ever thought possible.

Having someone care enough to enter your world so fully and share the things that light you up — that’s the most meaningful gesture of all.

A gentleman should learn to play a musical instrument or be a connoisseur of music, as serenading a lady can be a charming expression of affection.

Max turns the acoustic guitar over in his hands, plucking experimentally at the strings.

With your birthday coming up, serenading you seems like the perfect romantic gesture. Now he just has to actually learn how to play this thing. It seems simple enough — how hard can the guitar really be?

Max starts pressing on the strings randomly, the resulting discordant notes making him wince.

Okay, this might take some work.

Pulling up a beginner tutorial on his phone, he starts practicing the basic chords. But his fingers fumble clumsily, refusing to contort into the proper shapes. The more he tries, the worse the mangled sounds get.

Frustrated after the thirty minute lesson yields little improvement, Max sighs. “How am I supposed to woo my girlfriend with music if I can’t even play a damn C chord?”

Time for a professional to step in. Max books lessons with a private guitar instructor, determined to nail this down in time for your birthday surprise.

At the first lesson, the instructor eyes Max’s hands critically. “Right, let’s start by getting your fingers conditioned ...”

He takes Max through various stretching and dexterity exercises to limber up. Max nods along dutifully until the instructor pulls out a contraption with rubber bands and metal prongs.

“What the hell is that thing?” Max asks warily.

“A finger strengthener — we need to work on your independence and stamina,” he explains matter-of-factly, fitting the device over Max’s hand.

Max grimaces as the rubber bands strain against his fingers. The instructor just nods approvingly. “Perfect, twenty minutes per day with that.”

By the end of the torturous lesson, the only progress Max has made is identifying the parts of the guitar. He’s nowhere close to actually playing.

Max leaves discouraged but even more motivated to conquer the instrument somehow before your birthday. He continues meeting with the instructor multiple times a week, practicing rigorously outside of lessons too.

You notice his new habit of constantly stretching his fingers but Max plays it off casually not wanting to spoil the surprise.

The week before your birthday, Max has made marginal improvements but is still far from properly playing full songs. Desperate, he invites the instructor over for one final intensive lesson.

After two grueling hours of relentless drills, the instructor throws his hands up. “I’ve never had a student struggle this much with guitar basics. Maybe we should consider something easier, like the triangle or a recorder ...”

“No!” Max interrupts forcefully. “The guitar is a classic romantic instrument. I just need more practice before her party tomorrow.”

The instructor sighs. “If you say so. Just keep working on your fretting transitions and we’ll hope for the best.”

After he leaves, Max stays up late into the night strumming determinedly. By your birthday, his fingers are sore and calloused within an inch of their lives. But he can semi-confidently stumble through a love song and that’s enough for tonight.

When the moment arrives, he takes a deep breath and begins gently playing the intro to “Thinking Out Loud,” ready to serenade you. Max makes it halfway through before the chords descend into choppy noise.

You still applaud enthusiastically after, smiling ear to ear. “That was amazing, my love! Thank you so much.”

Max ducks his head bashfully. “It still needs some work. But I’m glad you liked it.”

Laughing, you take his tortured hands and kiss each fingertip. “I loved it because it came from you. That’s all that matters to me.”

Warmth blooms in Max’s chest. No matter how imperfect, you appreciated his efforts because of how much heart he put into it just for you.

In the end, no amount of lessons could transform Max into a virtuoso overnight. But he did become accomplished in one universal language — love.

And at the end of the day, that means everything.

A gentleman should recognize and appreciate a lady’s accomplishments, whether in the arts, charity work, or society.

“So Max, what are your thoughts on taking pole position here in Brazil?” The reporter asks.

Max grins into the mic. “Yeah, feels great to put it on pole here. The team has done an amazing job dialing in the car.”

He pauses and then adds, “Of course my girlfriend Y/N also put in a stellar qualifying effort yesterday covering the action for Sky Sports. Her commentary is always so eloquent and insightful.”

The reporter smiles amused as Max continues raving about your on-air skills for several minutes before remembering to refocus him on the results of the actual qualifying seasion.

This has become a familiar trend lately in Max’s interviews. No matter the question, he manages to redirect the conversation to highlight your various talents.

“... our pace was really strong today, I think we will be able to keep the top step tomorrow. Oh, speaking of strong pace, Y/N just ran a personal best 5k time last week during training ...”

In team debriefs, the same thing happens. Engineer queries about race strategy are derailed into praise about your presenting skills. PR reps trying to discuss Max’s social media posts somehow end up hearing about your recent venture into pottery making instead.

Even in casual conversations, you come up constantly.

“Morning, Max! How are you today?” His trainer asks while spotting a weight lifting session.

“Doing great! Y/N is also doing great, she’s learning Dutch and picking it up so quickly. Have I mentioned how talented she is with languages?”

By now the whole paddock is highly familiar with your many accomplishments, since Max seizes every possible opportunity to spotlight them.

You find it rather endearing, if a bit silly at times. Like when Max commandeered an entire interview just to detail the charities that you volunteer with.

“You know I’m capable of mentioning my own accomplishments if they come up naturally, right?” You tease him later.

Max looks sheepish. “I know, I just like bragging about you! I’m really proud of everything you do.”

You soften, giving him a quick kiss. “That’s really sweet. But maybe tone down the constant spotlight a little?” You suggest gently.

“Noted,” Max chuckles.

He makes an effort after that to highlight your achievements only when truly relevant. Because while he could praise you all day, Max also respects your wishes.

And he realizes you don’t need him to validate your worth — your talents speak for themselves. But he still can’t resist sharing little proud snippets whenever your accomplishments come up organically.

Over time you appreciate Max’s admiration and support more and more. Having someone so genuinely invested in all aspects of your life is incredibly touching.

Maybe he goes a bit overboard in his praising sometimes. But knowing that Max is always your biggest cheerleader, when it comes to racing coverage or otherwise, means everything.

A gentleman should seek the permission of the lady’s father or guardian before proposing, demonstrating respect for her family and social conventions. Once granted, he should choose an intimate setting for the proposal, away from the public eye. He must then express his intentions with sincerity, dropping to one knee and presenting a ring as a symbol of his commitment.

Max takes a deep breath, fidgeting with the small velvet box in his pocket. Today’s the day — he’s going to ask your father for permission to marry you.

You’ve reassured Max time and time again that your dad loves him but that does nothing to settle his nerves as he knocks on the front door of your childhood home.

When your father welcomes Max inside warmly, he relaxes slightly. Clearing his throat, Max launches into the speech he prepared.

“Sir, I’ve come today because I want to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. We have been together for years now and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, completely committed to her happiness. She is the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

Max pauses, blushing. “Sorry, I had this whole thing planned out better. I guess what I’m asking is — may I have your blessing to propose to Y/N?”

Your dad grins, clapping Max on the shoulder. “You know you didn’t have to be so formal about this. I already see you as part of the family.”

Max smiles bashfully. “I just wanted to show my respect for you and Y/N. Your blessing would mean a lot to me.”

“You have it absolutely. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for her than you.” He pulls Max into a hug. “Welcome to the family, son.”

Max leaves on cloud nine, thrilled to have this traditional step done right. Now on to planning the perfect proposal location away from prying eyes ...

After scouring options, Max selects a peaceful mountaintop in the Swiss Alps. Complete with luxury chalet just for the two of you — intimate but romantic.

Max painstakingly decorates it with flowers, candles, and photos of your relationship throughout the years. For the ring, he chooses two large natural diamonds in an unique asymmetrical setting, symbolic of two imperfect halves making a flawless whole.

Now fully prepared, Max just has to wait for your upcoming vacation to pop the question. He spends the days leading up to it buzzing with nervous excitement.

The helicopter ride to the mountain is pure torture for him. What if you say no? What if he fumbles the proposal speech? Endless doubts race through Max’s mind.

But as soon as he sees your delighted smile taking in the warmly lit cabin, his anxiety melts away. This evening is about letting his heart speak.

Through a private chef-cooked dinner, your laughter echoes in the chalet just like it always sounds. Full of joy and life and love.

Max knows that he’s ready.

Taking your hand gently, he leads you outside onto the moonlit balcony. Time to finally ask you to be his forever.

Max clears his throat, meeting your eyes. “Y/N, from the moment I met you, my world changed. Your smile and your light fill my days with meaning. You make me a better man.”

He slowly kneels, pulling out the ring box with trembling fingers. “I want to laugh with you, cry with you, share every high and low for the rest of our lives. Will you make me the luckiest man in the universe by becoming my wife?”

You clasp a hand over your mouth, eyes glimmering with tears. You only manage to get out a watery “Yes!” before also dropping to your knees in front of him.

Grinning ear to ear, Max slides the ring onto your finger with a kiss. “I promise to always love and cherish you.”

“And I promise the same to you, today and always.”

You throw your arms around him, both giddy with joy under the stars.

The customs that got you to this moment may have been old-fashioned but your love is timeless.

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fatuismooches · 2 months

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More Dottore and Fragile Reader voice lines, except it's your turn this time. A part two to this. Previous voice lines are here.

About Prime Dottore:

"Zandik. My one and only… words cannot express my tenderness and love toward him. I refuse to forget any moment I've spent with him. Not once has he given up on me, despite the times I’ve given up on myself. And he has always taken care of me, not once faltering in over four hundred years. I- I don’t know what to do sometimes when faced with that information. I wish I could be… less of a burden on him…”

About Omega:

"Omega, huh... he is the only segment where I always spend time with completely alone. See, he's not prone to sharing, just like Prime. I don't mind much, honestly, it's nice to get away from all of the noise and be with him. He always coaxes me to be more selfish too... is it a good or bad thing he's influencing me?"

About Alpha:

"Yes, the grumpy cutie I met all those years ago, the start of it all. He says that my presence is a hindrance and it only disrupts his work, but we both know that's false. Often, I like to sit by him as he writes his notes, pointing out all the errors caused by the atrocity of his handwriting... Sometimes, I feel bad using him as a reminder of the past."

About Beta:

"It always baffles me that Beta was once how Dottore acted. I mean, have you seen the difference between 'Mega and Beta? Anyway... he's always such a fun segment to hang around! Even when his assistants cower behind me in fear! Oh, and whenever he goes 'he-he-ho-ho', it always makes me giggle. Please don't tell him I did that impression of him though."

About Delta:

"Oh, Delta's... pretty mean. A really big meanie, if I do say so myself. He never laughs, never smiles, never entertains my shenanigans, always sees right through me... so rude. Huh? Don't worry about me, I'm allowed to talk about him like this. I still love him, after all."

About Zeta:

"Zeta's always so elusive! It was such a pain to track him down at first, he was always avoiding me. I thought he hated me... but once I got a hold of him, he is always so attentive to me! However, it greatly saddens me that he thinks he "failed" me... and yet he doesn't know how much it hurts me more that I've caused him to be like this."

About Zandy:

"Have you met my son? He's the sweetest little thing, isn't he? I remember how shy he was in the beginning, but he quickly grew to be such a dear. Always so excited and eager for attention. I can't help but wonder if Dottore's life could have been different if more people were kinder to him as a child."

About Pierro:

"I will always be indebted to him and Her Highness for taking me in. He is pretty scary to be around, but I feel sort of bad for him. I can't imagine how much responsibility he has... I once promised him I'd work for the Fatui once I'm better, but he didn't react much. Hmph, I'll show him how much I can boost Dottore's efficiency!"

About Capitano:

"The only thing I really know about him is that he's incredibly strong and well respected, at least from other people. The single time I met him, I also learned he was quite well liked by animals too, but it's hard to get any more information when he's so quiet..."

About Columbina:

"Bina is the best friend I've always wanted. I'm glad she's always there for me whenever things go bad. Although I can never predict what she's going to do or say, which is pretty strange, considering who I'm with, that makes her company all the more fun. Still, the amount of embarrassing situations she's tricked me into with Dottore... makes my head hurt."

About Arlecchino:

"I wish we could be closer, but I don't think it'll ever happen. I can't really blame her though, the relationship between her and Dottore is... not the greatest, for reasons I understand. I wonder what she thinks of me, the person who still stands by his side despite his sins?"

About Pulcinella:

"Oh... the little grandpa? I've always wondered how he's the fifth rank, but there's probably more to it than I know. Regardless, I didn't expect him to be so kind to me. I only see him once in a while, but every time he seems to know how I'm doing. And then, he proceeds to give me the best advice, exactly what I needed to hear at that moment, even when it has to do with Dottore. It's kind of scary..."

About Scaramouche:

"Ah yes... the Balladeer. He always wants to start up something with me whenever we cross paths, which is why my patience runs very thin around him. I hope the next time he goes into the Abyss, he gets stuck there."

About Wanderer:

"Who?"

About Sandrone:

"Her research sounds so cool! I've seen some of the things she can create, and it's completely fascinating. I too once had a love for machines back when I was a student. It's just a shame she never comes out of her lab... there are never any chances for me to talk with her. Well, I can always talk with Alpha and Beta about their research at least."

About La Signora:

"I've barely ever seen or spoken to her, but she has my respect. I heard what happened to her husband. If I ever lost Dottore, I'm not sure if I'd be able to go on... or at least be as half as strong as she is."

About Pantalone:

"Oh, Lone's one of my good friends! He always has such unique ideas for me to get back at Dottore, and listening to him talk about his theories quite reminds me of listening to Dottore. He's helped me a lot, dealing with this man. Still... as he does with everyone, I'm kept at arm's length. It doesn't bother me, but I wish I could help him in some way. But I know that'll never be possible."

About Childe:

"Despite being a Harbinger, he's a lot nicer than you'd think. Well, especially compared to the others in the Fatui. He's great at conversation, his family is the sweetest... and he always promises to spar with me once I'm no longer sick. Truly great company. Too bad Dottore's attitude toward him is... less than favorable."

About Furina:

"At first I hated her just like all the other Gods, but after learning the truth, I can't help but greatly respect her. To take on such a burden without having a single shoulder to lean on and succeed in the end... I think I've been through a lot of pain, but at least I've had Dottore and the others to ease it even just a bit. But she had no one, and I admire her will."

About Nahida:

"I try not to waste my time on things that upset me. It's not good for my health."

Sprint Start:

"No, no, I am not running at all. Look, if I get hurt and Dottore finds out it was your fault, you'll be the ones strapped to the table, not me. Hey... I wouldn't mind being in that position, actually."

Chat - Worry:

"I hope that one day he can make peace with himself."

Chat - Old Times:

"Sometimes I wish I was just a simple student again, having no worries other than my grades and pulling all-nighters with Dottore. Actually, that doesn't really sound relaxing, does it?"

Chat - Idling:

"If you're just going to stand here doing nothing, then I'm going to take a seat over there."

When it Snows:

"Would you be willing to distract Dottie so I can chuck a snowball at him? No? How boring."

When the Sun is Out:

"It's a perfect day to have a picnic and listen to him rant again."

In the Desert:

"... Omega, Beta, Delta, I don't care which one of you does it, get over here and make your hands completely ice cold before I faint."

Something to Share - Talent:

"If you ever need help writing something, you can ask me. I wrote some pretty good essays back in the day, you know. Dottore once said I should even write a book! I thought he was bullying me, but he was actually serious, for some reason. Maybe I should get Zandy to draw some pictures?"

Something to Share - Secret:

"Dottore actually has quite a sweet tooth. Well, this probably isn't much of a secret anymore because I accidentally spilled it to the agents, but it would do you good to keep this in mind."

Interesting Things - Foxttore:

"This little guy here? He'll do you no harm unless I say so, so don't worry. He was one of Dottie's failed experiments roaming the lab until he gifted the creature to me! These pufflings too, surprisingly they help me a lot more than you'd think. They're pretty strong, carrying all my things."

Favorite Pastimes - Meals:

"It's time to eat already? No need to worry about me, I'll just wait for a segment. See, it's best for both of us if I have company while I eat. My hands... aren't the most reliable."

Troubles:

"I am very happy that they have a good place to conduct all the research they want, but I wish they paid some more attention to me sometimes. Voicing this complaint over and over again, however, is too exhausting."

Amusement:

"Dottore's fan club never ceases to amuse me. I know every Harbinger has one but... it's completely hilarious. To go so far as creating a handbook about the two of us... well, I appreciate the dedication and the laughs, especially when I update Dottore on their activities. He may not care, but I support them!"

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #zandy bb <3 #playable reader <3 #dottore x reader #can we get more playable reader asks pls #im humbly begging my anons #im crazy for them #divider by cafekitsune

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 6 months

Text

You're like me, but better

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Bucky meets a woman in a bar...

Warning: 18+/ pure smut/ switch!Bucky/ switch!reader/ doggy style/ oral (f and m)/ fingering/ handjob/ kinda edging/ dirty talk/ swearing/ use of Y/n/ mention of a physical fight/ alcohol/ praise/

Word count: 3k

A/n: I need holy water...

When he first spotted her, dancing and laughing, John Egan thought she was beautiful. She was dancing like no one was watching, but he was surely watching her. The way she moved was hypnotising, he couldn’t stop admiring her, she was wearing a blue navy dress that stopped right before her knees. It was beautiful, her hair was originally organised, but now, they were loose and kind of messy, but they were still looking good.

When she first spotted him, he was already looking at her. Y/n smiled to him as he took a sip of his drink. She thought he was good looking and looked like trouble and fun; the things she looked for in a man. When the music ended, she was thirsty, so she headed for the bar, and for the man. ‘’A whiskey, please’’ she asked the bartender. ‘’Make that 2’’ the man said, resting his elbow on the bar, looking at her. ‘’You like Whiskey?’’ he asked her. ‘’I love it, does that surprise you?’’ she leaned in closer to his ear, so he could understand what she was saying. He smirked as he turned his head to speak closer to her ear. ‘’I’m impressed, not surprised’’ he said with a low voice. She smiled to him as she took her glass. ‘’You can put it on my tab’’ she announced, not daring to look away from him. They went to sit at a table, well, Y/n went to sit down, Bucky followed her. She smirked when she saw that he followed her.

Empty glasses were all over the table, they had a lot of whiskey shots and Y/n’s tab kept going up. They’ve been talking for what felt like hours. The conversation was filled with flirting on both sides and teasing. ‘’What do you say if we get out of here?’’ he suggested, with a flirty tone. ‘’Yes, but hold on’’ she said, getting up. She took a glass full of water and went closer to the drunk men side. Bucky got up, worried about what she was going to do. ‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked her. ‘’Get ready to run’’ she warned as she threw the liquid on one of the men. Since he was drunk and disoriented, he blamed his friend. His friend got up, knocked over someone’s drink and chaos followed. She just started a huge fight. ‘’Go, let’s go’’ she laughed as she took his hand, and they got out of the bar. Bucky was shocked, that woman was truly amazing.

They ran into the alley, laughing and loudly breathing. ‘’You didn’t pay’’ Bucky laughed. ‘’I don’t have the money, plus I’ll pay him next time, I always do’’ she catches her breath. He smirked; he was in awe of her. She was high on adrenaline, even if she already did that to get out of a bar, it was still thrilling to do. They were both panting, looking at each other, they got closer to the other. The alcohol in their system helped their anxiety. ‘’You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, you’re like me, but better!’’ he chuckled. She took his face in her hands as she bit her lips. ‘’Shut up’’ she pulled his face closer to hers and kissed him. John took a second to realise what was happening, but when he did, he put one hand on her hips and the other behind her neck as he deepened the kiss. When they pulled away, to breath, the look in their eyes had change, they were hungry, they needed more. ‘’Where do you live?’’ he panted. ‘’We have to take a taxi, and don’t worry, I can pay’’ she winked. They walked up to the sidewalk and called a taxi.

He was touching her thigh and kept going up. Y/n tried to not breath so loudly, to respect the driver. She wanted to have sex with him right here, in the taxi, but they couldn’t, and the wait was more fun. But she couldn’t wait to get to her appartement and have sex with him. When the driver finally stopped, Y/n handed him the money from the window. ‘’Keep the change, have a good night’’ she smiled as Bucky was behind her. She could feel his erection on her ass, when the driver left, Y/n turned to face him and quickly kissed him. Her apartment was the upper one, so they had to go up some stairs. Bucky gladly walked behind her, checking her ass out as she climbed the stairs.

The second the door was closed; Bucky’s mouth was on hers immediately, trying to show that he was the one in charge, but Y/n quickly showed him who was in charge tonight. ‘’Now, Major, relax, you’re the one fighting the bad guys, you need a reward for doing so’’ she breathed against his lips. She looked up at him, he was grinning like the devil. ‘’What do you have in mind?’’ he growled, God he was desperate for her, he needed her so bad, his painful boner was the proof of how bad he wanted her. ‘’You trust me?’’ she asked between kisses. He nodded as he was being led to her bedroom, he kept following her closely. She felt his hard dick on her ass, she was smiling proudly. She slightly pushed him on the bed, so he could sit at the end of it. He took his shirt off, since he was in his uniform, he knew how to unbutton his shirt quickly. ‘’I have something to propose to you’’ she started as she went between his legs, she was still up, so he had to lift his head to look at her. She played with his curls as she explained her idea. ‘’If you can resist the urge to touch me, until I say stop, you can do whatever you want with me after’’ she purred. His mouth slightly opened, but no sound came out. ‘’And if I touch you?’’ he asked, but it almost sounded like a moan. ‘’You lose’’ she breathed out as she backed away from between his legs.

She started to take off her dress, slowly, teasingly and with a grin on her face. He’d been touching her all night, now, he couldn’t it was torture, but the best kind. He devoured her with his eyes, he needed her, but first he had to play her little game. She took her bra off but kept her panties on. ‘’Should I take your pants off, or you want to do it?’’ she asked him, with a flirty tone. He quickly untied his belt as she kneeled before him, his pants were thrown away. She began to palm his cock, but he still had his boxer on, so it was pure torture. He wanted to touch her so bad, but he also wanted to fuck that brat dominant attitude out of her later. She slowly takes them off, freeing his length. Y/n licks her lips before looking up at John, who was breathing fast, he was controlling himself in order to keep his hands to himself. Those poor bedsheets, getting pulled so hard, he thought he was going to rip them. She kept caressing his thigh, moving her hands higher every time, she was teasing him, and she was enjoying it way too much. She eventually reached his cock; she began kissing the top of it. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt her delicate hands stroke his cock, he exhaled in pleasure.

Y/n was enjoying this moment, having this man practically begging for her. Even though he was too proud to beg, she could tell by the sounds he made that he wanted her to do something more. ‘’You’re doing so good, Major’’ she praised him. His body reacted to the praise in a way that was almost embarrassing, he secretly loved being praised. She pressed wet kisses on the tip, then, without warning, Y/n took John’s dick in her mouth. ‘’Ah, shit’’ he groaned, lifting his hand from the bed, but quickly grabbed the sheet back to prevent his hand to touch her. She began to suck him with a rapid pace, she was teasing him by often changing the rhythm. One of her hands was on the base of his length, stroking him slowly while her mouth was sucking him fast. He was in heaven, he was going to die; but what a great way to go, he thought. Bucky was dizzy from the feeling of her mouth and hand working at the same time. His stomach was contracting as he felt the sweet feeling of his climax coming. ‘’D-darling, I’m really, ah, fucking, shit, close’’ he moaned. She kept going, but her hand started to go faster. ‘’Come on, be a good boy and cum for me’’ she encouraged him. That was all it took to send him over the edge and make him see stars. Y/n felt his release in her mouth, but his cock kept twitching. His knuckles were white, practically blue.

She didn’t stop sucking him, it was a very slow pace, but she wanted to drive him mad. His thoughts were gathered, but he was still dizzy from the orgasm he just had. ‘’W-what are you – oh I can’t, it’s too much’’ he whimpered. ‘’Please, darling’’ he breathed out. She decided that it was time for her game to stop, she mentally prepared herself to what was going to happen as she took his cock out of her mouth. She whipped the sperm on her lips and suck on them. She had that proud grin on her face that made him crazy. ‘’You were such a good boy, respecting the rules. So you win, I’m yours to do whatever you-‘’ she yelped as she was thrown on the bed. He was mad, she’d been teasing him for what felt like hours, she was going to get the same fucking treatment.

Bucky crawled on top of her, he kissed her hungrily, he wasn’t playing her stupid game anymore. His hand trailed down to her panties, he needed them off, he pulled them off her and threw them away. His hands still next to her entrance, he felt how bad she enjoyed teasing him. ‘’Look how soaked you are, all that from a little game. Tell me, darling, did you enjoy this? Making me moan and beg for you?’’ he growled. She moaned in response, but he wasn’t satisfied, he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. ‘’I didn’t hear you. Did you enjoy having me at your mercy? Playing your little game?’’ he said, with a husky voice. ‘’Yes- yes sir’’ she stuttered, he smirked at her answer before entering one finger inside of her.

She arched her back as he began pumping in and out of her, their lips were so close together, but he wasn’t letting them touch. ‘’Look who’s moaning now, bet you weren’t expecting that, uh?’’ he teased, against her lips. She shook her head as he entered another finger inside of her. ‘’Please, let- ah let me kiss you’’ she begged. He chuckled as he moved his fingers faster. ‘’C’mon, darling, you can beg more than that’’ he teased. She rolled her eyes in pleasure as she swallowed her pride and decided to surrender to him. ‘’Please sir, please kiss me. I need you-shit please sir’’ she begged. He was smiling like the devil, God she was amazing. ‘’That wasn’t so hard.’’ He croaked before kissing her passionately, their tongues were dancing together. He kept moving his fingers inside of her until he felt her walls clench around his fingers. ‘’You’re close?’’ he asked. She nodded, biting her lips. The knot in her stomach was ready to burst, but at the last minute, he took his fingers out, denying her from the sweet pleasure she deeply craved. ‘’No’’ she whined as she wiggled her hips to get any form of friction that could trigger her orgasm. But Bucky was not having it, he put one hand on her hips, to keep her still. ‘’Nah ah, only good girls get to cum. You’ve been a brat with an attitude, so you’re going to fucking beg me, and until I say so, you don’t get to cum, do you understand?’’ he ordered. She whined before nodding. ‘’Yes sir’’ she said, biting her lips. She wanted to argue with him, say fuck it and ride him, but she was enjoying this.

She felt tear form in her eyes from the frustration she was feeling as he put two fingers inside of her, but this time, he kissed her body until he reached her clitoris. He was going to eat her out and finger her at the same time, she was a moaning mess, her brain couldn’t even think properly. Bucky knew her brain was fried, and she temporarily forgot that she had to beg for an orgasm. Her thighs were shaking for that much stimulation, her hands were in his hair, pulling his curls as she came closer to an orgasm again. Y/n completely forgot about his rule, so when he stopped everything, he was doing, she whined again. ‘’Please-ah let me cum. I’m begging you, please sir. I-ah need to cum, please’’ she begged like her life was depending on it. Bucky chuckled as he pressed one last kiss to her clitoris. ‘’On all fours, darling, the only way you’re getting off is on my cock’’ he ordered.

She didn’t know if her arms were strong enough to support her, but still, she got on all fours, waiting for Bucky to do something. ‘’Look at you, on all fours, begging for my cock. We couldn’t guess with that bratty attitude of yours. I guess I have to fuck it out of you, what do you think, darling?’’ he teased. Y/n moaned at what he just said, she was a mess, but God how was she enjoying it. ‘’I would like that very much, sir. Please fuck me’’ she moaned. He chuckled again as he positioned himself at her entrance. The wait was killing her, she ached for him, needing him to fuck her and give her the release she craved. He took her hips as he buried himself inside her. She arched her back as she felt him go deeper than her usual one-night stand. ‘’Shit-oh you’re so f-fucking big’’ she gasped as she tugs on her bedsheets. He started to trust inside of her but slowly, to make sure she felt him, as he trusted back in, he brought her hips towards him. His length went deeper inside of her, making the woman roll her eyes in pleasure. ‘’Please, please, oh shit’’ she mumbled, she didn’t even know why she was saying please, her brain was foggy and couldn’t form a normal thought.

He leaned in, to kiss her spine, he kept pounding into her at a fast pace, he was chasing his own release. After marking her back, one on his hands went under her to play with her breast, pinching her nipple. As he did so, Bucky felt her walls clench in pleasure, he smirked as he understood. ‘’You like that, uh.’’ He breathed out, pinching her nipple again. She arched her back even more as she felt the familiar knot in her stomach form. ‘’I’m close, please, sir. I’m begging you, please let me cum, please’’ she whimpered. ‘’You’re going to cum at the same time as me, understood?’’ he ordered. ‘’Y-yes sir’’ she moaned. She was close, and tired of waiting, so she decided to praise him. ‘’Yes, holy shit, you’re so deep inside me. Making me feel so good’’ she praised, her voice was raspy from all the moaning. Bucky felt butterflies in his stomach at the praise, he knew what she was doing, but hey, could he blame her? ‘’Turn around, I want to see you when I make you cum’’ he ordered as he took his cock out, only to slam inside of her when she was on her back.

He kept kissing her sloppy, her legs were around his waist. She kept whispering soft praise in his ear as he quickened the pace. ‘’C’mon, fill me up. Cum inside of me, I want to feel you’’ she encouraged him. With a powerful trust, he emptied himself inside of her as Y/n’s walls kept clenching his cock. They were moaning, gasping and trying to catch their breaths. Her breath was labored as she came down from euphoria. He was laying on top of her, his dick still buried inside of her. They were both silent for a couple of minutes before he pulled out and got up. Y/n watched as Bucky put his boxer back on and looked for her bathroom, while he was gone, she could properly catch her breath. It was the best sex she ever had. He came back with a warm towel to clean her up.

Bucky was holding her tightly; they were both cuddling. ‘’That was… mind-blowing, darling’’ he chuckled, looking at her. ‘’Best sex I’ve ever had’’ she joined the chuckling as they intertwined their fingers. ‘’Are you staying tonight?’’ she asked him. ‘’I can, but I have to get back on the base tomorrow afternoon, my pass expires tomorrow’’ he explained. She smiled as she snuggled closer to him. ‘’Goodnight, Y/n’’ he kissed the top of her head. ‘’Goodnight John’’ she kissed him on the lips before putting her head on his bicep.

As Bucky fell asleep that night, he promised himself that he was going to see her again, that woman was the most wonderful he ever met, she was funny, sexy, beautiful, smart and she was amazing in bed. That was all he needed, he was going to see Y/n again…

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #master of the air imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan #john bucky egan #mota fic #mota smut

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