#'hey do you remember those times when you liked me?'

[xreader-writing]

Someone better | LN4 and FC43

Prologue

Sumarry: Lando is treating his girl badly, but thank God one Argentine is more than happy to do everything he doesn't do.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto X Driver!Reader | Lando Norris X Driver!Reader

WC:1.265

(WARNINGS:) Abusive relationship, manipulation, machismo, sexism, Lando is a complete idiot here, sorry! 😔

A/N: Since Y/n is Brazilian (And in Brazil we speak Portuguese and not Spanish) Franco and she will speak English to each other most of the time, okay?

How do you realize you're in an abusive relationship? When do you realize? Do you... Do you realize it?

Is it when it gets more violent? Or is it already extreme?

Lando isn't violent, but he is aggressive, that always confuses Y/n.

She's only 21, for God's sake, she got her place in F1 this year when she was called up to replace Checo for the entire 2024 season, yes, she signed with Redbull and is now partnered with Max Verstappen

When she started her relationship with Lando, it was very different, well, I think that's the problem with an abusive relationship, you only realize it when it's too late, and sometimes, unfortunately, you don't even realize it.

Lando was handsome, sweet, affectionate and fun, it was impossible not to fall in love with him, but...

Y/n thinks she can remember the first time he acted strangely.

It was when she was in P1 for the first time, Max was in P2 and Charles got P3, she remembers trying to greet Lando, but he walked right past her, making her feel completely embarrassed with so many cameras filming the event.

"He's just frustrated and tired." That's what she thought.

To make matters worse, Lando didn't go to celebrate with her, only God knows where that boy got himself into that night, but she doesn't want to think about it too much.

That was supposed to be her moment, but he managed to ruin everything.

"Enjoy your night, you deserve it so much." She remembers Chales saying that with his hand on her shoulder and a comforting smile.

After a few days he simply went back to normal without saying a single word about it, as if he hadn't broken her heart into little pieces.

The second time it was actually Max who noticed it, well, he adopted Y/n as his little sister, and he really loved her as if she were.

He was in the paddock when he arrived at the Redbull carriage and came face to face with Lando and Y/n in a distant corner.

It wasn't uncommon to see them in each other's garages, but Max frowned when he saw Y/n half-curdling while Lando spoke non-stop in an aggressive and low tone, only for her to hear.

Max got even more irritated when he saw Lando's expression change when he saw the cameras approaching.

He needed to have a little talk with Y/n.

Later that day, Max managed to catch Y/n alone and he couldn't miss the opportunity.

"Hey." He approaches smiling and she forces a smile.

"Hi Max."

"I wanted to ask you something, I don't want to be nosy or anything, but is everything okay?" Max notices that Y/n's hands are shaking so much that she can't open her can.

"It's okay, I just...fucking can." Max smiles weakly, takes the can from her hand and opens it in a second.

"You know he can't treat you like that, right?" Max says, giving the can back to her, who lowers her head a little uncomfortably.

"He's just kind of nervous and frustrated too."

Max laughs in disbelief upon hearing this.

"What kind of shitty excuse is that? He might have the worst day of his life, but he has to respect you." Y/n doesn't know what to do upon hearing Max say this.

"It's okay, Max, I...I like him." Max sighs and puts her hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"You'll always have me, okay? Even if you go to another team, whichever team you go to, you'll still have me, I promise." Those few words made Y/n's day 100% better.

The third time was a little more problematic, Y/n wasn't having a good day, and to make matters worse, the reporters seemed to sexualize her in every question, damn it.

"Why are you so glum?" Lando says, approaching her and taking her hand.

"I just don't understand why they have to sexualize me in every possible question." She says quietly and Lando scoffs.

"You're a woman and you're Latina, what do you expect them to do?" Y/n looks at her boyfriend confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Y/n, are you going to say you don't like this kind of attention? All this attention they give you?"

"You think I like being harassed? What's your problem?" Y/n lets go of his hand, and he's quick to pull her hand back, squeezing it a little tighter this time.

"Are you trying to put on a show for others now?" He says quietly, looking into Y/n's eyes, and she just wants to scream and run away.

But there are already too many lies and distorted stories about her out there, so she just turns her face away so she doesn't have to look at him, and forces a smile when Oscar and Charles approach to talk to them.

After that, Y/n thinks her mental health is hanging by a thread, the reporters make her seem like a gold digger, that she's only there to sleep with all the drivers, her boyfriend makes her feel ungrateful and crazy, and the haters won't stop trying to kill her once and for all.

But...

In the middle of all this, someone showed up...

Franco Colapinto

Franco and Y/n had known each other since the F2 days, they always laughed a lot and joked together, when Y/n went to F1, Franco cried with emotion with her.

But he knew how much she would be missed.

But now he's at Williams replacing Logan.

When he arrived at F1, he was all joy, Franco got to talk to his favorite drivers, and that was a dream come true, but when he turned around and saw Y/n drinking water and with a completely worried expression, he felt his legs a little wobbly.

"Holy shit, she's still beautiful."

Ele sempre a seguia na~~s redes sociais, mas vê-la tão de perto...

As if she could feel someone looking at her, Y/n turned and met Franco's eyes.

He smiled and waved and she waved back smiling with her mouth closed.

But he needed more, so unable to contain himself, he excused himself to the people around him and practically ran to Y/n.

"hola mi hermosa." Franco pulled her into a hug that she happily returned.

"I missed you so much." Y/n says and Franco smiles more.

When they let go of each other, Franco notices the dark circles under her eyes, and her smile that seems a little forced.

"Congratulations on your pole, it was more than deserved."

"Oh Franco, It's been months."

"Uau? Você me deixou ~~tão orgulhosa e feliz." S/n sorri e balança a cabeça.

"Thank you, it was a dream come true for sure, and I know I'll see you up there soon too." She smiles and Franco's heart races even faster, he had completely forgotten the power she had over him.

"Fuck, I forgot about that." Franco thinks.

Before Franco could say anything, Lando appears looking for Y/n.

"Come on Y/n, let's go have lunch." He takes Y/n's hand and looks Franco up and down.

"Hey, man." Lando lets go of Y/n's hand and offers it to Franco, who smiles as he shakes Lando's hand.

"See you around Franco." Y/n says smiling softly and Lando takes her hand pulling her with him.

Franco's smile fades as they walk away and he sighs self-consciously.

"Fuck, I forgot about that too!"

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[rootedinrevisions]

Five Years

SUMMARY: Five years of friendship. Years of silent longing. One night that changes everything. When Tyler Owens, a charming, rugged man with a penchant for keeping things casual, finds himself at a crossroads with the woman he's secretly loved for years, he realizes he might have waited too long. After one too many moments where you've been left wanting more, you find yourself torn between the comfort of their deep connection and the pain of being stuck in the friend zone. Tyler has one last shot to show you that he’s not just the man you turn to in the hard moments—but the man who can make you believe in love, again.

A/N: Sorry for all the angsty Tyler lately! It's just been the mood/vibe lately so I've been rolling with it! Thanks to the person who sent this request in! I hope you like it!

PROMPT: "What was he doing back there? Flirting with you like he has a fucking chance?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Angst.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

It’s late, the kind of quiet that comes when the night has softened everything into shadows. You and Tyler are back in the motel room, tangled together in bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm drapes over you, and you’re curled into his side, your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The scent of whiskey lingers between you, mingling with the warmth of his skin, and you can still taste him faintly on your lips. Another night, another round of kisses exchanged under the dim motel lights, like something fragile and fleeting.

He stirs, his hand brushing along your back, and you wonder if he’s on the edge of sleep or just drifting in that space in between like you are. For a moment, you’re tempted to ask him the question that’s always on the tip of your tongue: What are we doing?

Instead, you stay silent, breathing in sync with him, wondering if he can feel the way your heart skips each time he holds you like this. He shifts, drawing you a little closer, and you catch a glimpse of something in his expression—something soft, maybe even vulnerable. But it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and slightly slurred. “You’re comfortable, right?” His hand rests at the curve of your hip, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you.

You nod, managing a quiet, “Yeah. Always.” You know he’ll pretend he doesn’t remember this in the morning, brush it off like it’s nothing, and you’ll let him because it’s easier that way. But tonight, you can pretend a little too—that these quiet moments mean the same to him as they do to you.

You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat beneath your ear, wondering how much longer you can keep pretending before you’re forced to admit the truth—to yourself, if not to him.

Then, out of nowhere, he says, “So… I just found out I’m being inducted into the PBR Hall of Fame.”

You blink, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. A smile lights up your face. “Tyler, that’s amazing! I mean, I knew you were a big deal, but… Hall of Fame?”

He chuckles softly, scratching the back of his head with that familiar modesty. “Yeah, kinda crazy, huh? Guess all those years getting tossed around finally paid off.”

You laugh, knowing he’s downplaying it. You’ve seen some of those old videos, clips of him taking on bulls with more force and heart than anyone you’d ever met. 

“No one deserves it more than you,” you say softly, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks as he looks away, and then, clearing his throat, he glances back at you. 

“Thanks, means a lot,” he says, his voice softer. Then, after a moment, he adds, “Actually… I get a plus one to the induction ceremony. I was thinking maybe you’d want to come with me?”

Your heart skips at that. He doesn’t even pause to consider anyone else; he’s asking you. For a moment, you feel a surge of excitement that maybe this is more than just a friendly invite. But just as quickly, doubt seeps in. If he had a girlfriend, he’d take her, wouldn’t he? A familiar ache settles in your chest, the quiet reminder that maybe this is just about convenience for him.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, and casual. “I mean, you could take anyone.”

He glances at you with a soft smile, his eyes sincere. “Nah. Can’t think of anyone better. You’d come, right?”

The words are on the tip of your tongue—Of course, I’ll go. 

Instead, you hesitate, just for a second, wondering if this is just a placeholder invitation until he finds someone to fill the spot he’s never openly said he wants to be filled. But you can’t bear the thought of missing the moment, so you nod, managing a smile. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins, pulling you back into his chest, and you settle against him, feeling the warmth of his arm around you. But even as you breathe him in, letting the steady beat of his heart calm you, a question begins to take root in your mind. Where do we really stand, Tyler?

It’s a question you keep to yourself, swallowing it down as you close your eyes and listen to the silence settle around you once again.

* * * * *

The ballroom buzzed with energy and anticipation, and you could sense the excitement radiating from Tyler beside you. The event space was elegantly decorated, with every table set with crystal glasses and gleaming silverware. But you hardly noticed any of it; all your focus was on Tyler. This was his night. And you were honored to be here with him, even if you didn’t quite know what that meant for the two of you.

You eventually found your way to your seats near the front of the room, and Tyler’s hand brushed against yours as you sat down. His fingers lingered just a moment, a subtle contact that sent a rush of warmth up your arm. 

Before you could say anything, the lights dimmed as the emcee took to the stage, announcing the start of the ceremony. The audience fell quiet, and Tyler’s hand was warm on your knee, a comforting weight that made your heart race. You glanced down at his hand, then back up to his face, wondering if he even realized the effect he had on you.

A part of you wanted to reach for his hand again, to close the gap between you both once and for all, but you stayed still, holding your breath as the ceremony began.

As the awards were announced one by one, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Tyler. He seemed to sit straighter with each name called, his eyes never leaving the stage. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the emcee announced Tyler’s name, and the room burst into applause. You clapped the loudest, your heart swelling with pride.

You watched as Tyler walked to the stage, his stride steady and confident, shoulders back with that natural charisma he carried wherever he went. When he accepted his award, he stood there with his plaque, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on you. The spotlight hit his face, highlighting the small, crooked smile you knew so well. And his eyes—dark, intense, focused on you—seemed to say something unspoken.

You felt your breath catch, frozen under his gaze, and for a second, it was like you were the only two people in the room.

His acceptance speech was simple and heartfelt. He thanked the people who had been there with him through the highs and lows. He spoke of long, hard days, the sacrifices he’d made, and the passion that drove him. But you could’ve sworn that when he mentioned his gratitude for “the people who kept him grounded,” his eyes found you once again.

As Tyler wrapped up his speech and made his way back to his seat, you barely had a chance to process the pride you felt for him, for everything he’d accomplished. But that brief moment when he’d looked at you on stage lingered in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Could it have meant something more?

He sat back down next to you, and you leaned over, unable to keep the smile from your face. “That was incredible, Ty. I’m so proud of you.”

He looked at you, a soft chuckle escaping as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I think I might’ve fumbled a little bit up there.”

“Not even close,” you replied, squeezing his arm. “You were perfect.”

The atmosphere at the afterparty was more relaxed, a contrast to the formality of the ceremony.

The room buzzes with laughter and clinking glasses, everyone here to celebrate the achievements of legends, past and present. You’re standing beside Tyler, trying to blend into the background of the room’s energy. But then, without warning, Tyler reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before intertwining them completely. It’s such a small gesture, but it sends a rush of warmth through you. He glances at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment, almost as if he’s silently asking if this is okay, if you’re okay. You squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand that, yes, this is more than okay.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he says, his voice low and soft. He leads you through the crowd toward a man with a broad smile and lines etched deep around his eyes—Tyler’s old mentor. Tyler introduces you with a genuine warmth that makes you feel like you belong here, like you’re not just an accessory to his big night but someone he wants by his side.

As they begin chatting, Tyler’s hand drifts to your waist, his fingers pressing lightly into your hip as he pulls you closer, fitting you against his side. You feel a warmth blossom in your chest, and for a moment, the nagging doubts you’d been harboring vanish. His mentor jokes about old times, and Tyler laughs, giving your waist a small squeeze as if to share the moment with you. You let yourself lean into him, letting his warmth melt away the walls you’d tried to build around your heart.

But then, as the conversation comes to a close, he lets go. Just like that, his hand falls from your waist, and he takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, a casual smile on his face. He glances around the room, no longer focused on you, and the sudden distance sends a chill down your spine. You’re standing side by side, but the connection feels fractured, like a missed beat. He begins walking next to you, his attention now elsewhere, no hand-holding, no gentle touches to keep you close.

Half an hour later you’re standing next to Tyler, trying to stay engaged with the conversation he’s having with an old friend he used to ride with, someone who knows a side of him you’ve only heard about in stories. Tyler’s posture is easy, his laugh warm and unguarded in a way that you rarely get to see. You watch him as he reminisces, letting yourself get lost in the sound of his laughter, in the way his eyes light up with a spark of the past. But as they continue to talk, it becomes clear that he’s in his own world, like you’re not even there.

The laughter between them grows, each memory shared drawing them further back into the years before you knew him. You shift your weight, feeling a slight ache in your chest as you realize just how separate you feel from this part of his life. A sense of loneliness creeps in, one you can’t shake, and you find yourself glancing toward the bar. Maybe a drink will help dull the sting.

You start to turn, your heart heavy, but just then, you feel Tyler’s hand reach out, his fingers wrapping gently around yours. The touch is so familiar, so comforting, and for a brief second, that hopeful warmth flickers back to life. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye, a hint of something unreadable there.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter, as if trying to break through to you despite the noise around.

You swallow, forcing a smile to cover the twinge of sadness that’s growing in your chest. “Yeah,” you say softly, nodding toward the bar. “Just thirsty. Thought I’d grab a drink.”

He nods, giving your hand a slight squeeze before letting go, turning back to his friend with that easy laugh that now feels like a barrier you can’t quite cross. You turn away, your heart sinking as you walk toward the bar, feeling the absence of his hand like a chill creeping over your skin. You can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment that settles heavy and cold. Just moments ago, he was intertwining your fingers, holding you close with his hand on your waist, like you were more than just a companion for the night.

How did it change so quickly? How did he go from holding you, grounding you with those intimate touches, to leaving you in this limbo of almost but not quite? You realize that, despite how much he means to you, there’s a line between you that he doesn’t seem ready to cross. And that thought hurts more than you want to admit.

You’re leaning against the bar, lost in thought, when a voice breaks through the noise, smooth and warm. “Hey there. You look like you could use some company.”

You glance up to find a guy with a charming grin and a relaxed confidence that’s instantly disarming. He extends a hand. “Eli Vastbinder,” he says. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

For a moment, you’re taken off guard, but you shake his hand and introduce yourself, motioning to where Tyler’s standing in the distance. “I’m here with Tyler Owens.”

At the mention of Tyler’s name, a flicker of something—maybe disappointment, maybe surprise—crosses Eli’s face before he recovers his smile. “Owens, huh? How do you know the Tornado Wrangler?”

You can’t help but laugh at the nickname, feeling some of the tension ease as you explain. “We work together. I help him run his YouTube channel.”

Eli’s gaze shifts from Tyler back to you, a curious glint in his eye as if he’s sizing up the situation. He doesn’t linger on it for long, though, before flashing you a daring smile. “So, just coworkers, huh? In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I bought you a drink?”

The question lingers, sparking a twist of hesitation in your chest. You glance over at Tyler, hoping for some kind of sign, some acknowledgment of what you’re feeling. Your eyes meet his, and he offers you a casual smile before turning his attention back to his friend. The moment leaves you cold—another reminder of all the times he’s pulled you close, only to leave you feeling as if you’re just out of reach.

You turn back to Eli, a decision settling in your mind. Tyler isn’t claiming you. He never has. And he’s had five years to do so.

You give Eli a small smile. “Sure, why not?”

Eli’s grin widens as he orders your drink, leaning in just slightly as he asks about your work with Tyler. He’s charming, effortlessly making you feel seen and appreciated. There’s a warm intensity in his gaze, like he’s genuinely interested in hearing about your life, in learning the pieces of you that Tyler seems to take for granted. You laugh at his jokes, leaning in as he tells stories about the crazy things he’s seen on the road. Every so often, his hand brushes yours, sending a little thrill through you—like something you haven’t allowed yourself to feel in far too long.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel the weight lifting from your shoulders. There’s no ambiguity with Eli; his attention is clear, unburdened by mixed signals or unspoken boundaries. It’s refreshing, exciting, even, to be the center of someone’s focus without second-guessing their intentions.

You glance over at Tyler once more, but he’s still wrapped up in conversation, seemingly unaware of the ache you’ve carried alone. A part of you wants him to notice, to see what’s happening, to finally feel the urgency you’ve held onto for years. But there’s another part of you that’s finished waiting.

As you turn back to Eli, you find yourself smiling, the kind of smile that feels like letting go.

You’re laughing at something Eli just said, a relaxed warmth in your chest that’s been missing around Tyler lately, when you feel a familiar presence behind you. You glance back, and there he is—Tyler, wearing that easy smile that’s disarmed you a hundred times before. He leans close, his hand slipping around your waist, fingers warm and possessive against your hip. “Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, the pet name rolling off his tongue as naturally as the smirk tugging at his lips.

But Tyler doesn’t stop there. His gaze shifts to Eli, assessing him for a beat, and then extends a hand. “I see you’ve met my date,” he says, voice casual but with a certain edge, like a claim staked.

You freeze, glancing up at him, surprised and confused by his sudden assertiveness. Eli’s expression mirrors your own—slightly perplexed, eyebrows lifting as he takes Tyler’s hand and shakes it firmly. His eyes flicker back to you, questioning. “Date? I thought you two were just coworkers,” he remarks, eyes shifting meaningfully to Tyler’s hand, still resting on your hip.

Before you can answer, Tyler lets out a dismissive scoff, as if the notion of you two being “just coworkers” is absurd. “Coworkers?” he echoes, his hand tightening just a fraction. “Yeah, we’re a little closer than that.” He shoots a look at you that’s both playful and possessive.

You feel your blood simmer, heat rising in your chest at the presumption in his tone. As if you’re some claim he can lay when it’s convenient, without any real commitment. You step out of his grip, your voice firm as you say, “We are just coworkers.” The words come out sharper than you intend, but you don’t soften them.

Tyler’s smile falters, his brow furrowing, but you’ve already turned away, excusing yourself quickly to Eli before slipping out toward the exit.

Humiliation washes over you, prickling your skin as you push through the crowd, needing fresh air, needing space. You had been enjoying a perfectly nice conversation with Eli, feeling appreciated and even flattered, until Tyler decided to swoop in and turn the moment into something possessive and confusing.

As you reach the hallway, you feel a sharp sting behind your eyes. Tears blur your vision, and you blink them back, furious with yourself for letting Tyler get to you like this. You’re tired—tired of being in his orbit only when he wants you to be, of being treated as something more only when it suits him. Because heaven forbid another guy notices you.

The hallway is quiet, save for the soft murmur of voices drifting from the ballroom as you stand there, waiting for the elevator. The moment stretches, tense and thick, when you hear his footsteps behind you, his voice calling your name.

You don’t turn around. “Tyler… don’t.” The plea is barely above a whisper, but he ignores it, closing the distance between you, his face etched with frustration.

“What was he doing back there?” he asks, motioning down the hall toward the ballroom, his tone hard, possessive. “Flirting with you like he has a chance?”

Your heart twists painfully at his words. His tone says it all—like he assumes you’re his, like it’s obvious. Like you should know.

But you’re done with the assumptions. The words spill out before you can stop them, thick with months, years, of unspoken hurt. “And why would you care, Tyler?” Your voice cracks, and you feel the first tear slip down your cheek, quickly followed by another. “It’s not like we’re together, right? You said it yourself—we’ll never be anything more than friends. We’re just…” You falter, searching for the right words, but the truth tumbles out, raw and painful. “We’re just really close, and we make out sometimes. Nothing more.”

The weight of it hangs in the air, and you can see the impact of your words in the way his face falls, his expression softening, regretful. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out, but you shake your head, a mix of anger and sadness bubbling to the surface.

“No, Tyler.” You step back, keeping the space between you. “I’m done. I’m done with this… with you.” Your voice shakes, but the conviction is there, clear and sharp. “I’m done not being good enough. Done being yours only when you want someone on your arm or in your bed. I can’t keep doing this.” You wipe a tear from your cheek, gathering whatever strength you have left. “I’m done with everything. Our friendship. The channel. All of it.”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open with a quiet chime. You glance back at him one last time, taking in the hurt and confusion in his eyes. 

“Go back to the party, Tyler. It’s your night. You deserve it.”

You step into the elevator, pressing the button as the doors start to close. The last thing you see before they shut is him standing there, looking lost and completely, utterly alone.

Back in the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you feel the emotions from the hallway encounter with Tyler crash over you. It’s almost overwhelming, but you shake your head, determined to focus on the immediate task. You kick off your heels and reach for the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it slide down as the gown falls in a pool around your feet. You step out of it, scooping it up to drape over the chair, and head to your bag, ready to change and leave before you can overthink it.

Digging through your clothes, you pull out the first shirt, but frustration prickles at you when you realize it’s one of Tyler’s. With an annoyed huff, you toss it on the bed. You dig deeper, pulling out another… his again. Why didn’t I pack more of my own clothes? you think bitterly, remembering that his shirts have been your usual comfort, your routine.

Finally, you find one of your own t-shirts and pull it on, then slide into a pair of jeans. You run a hand over your face, taking a deep breath to keep yourself from falling apart, and open your suitcase, methodically folding the rest of your things and stowing them away. As you pack, a plan begins to form, each step sounding clearer in your mind. You’ll finish packing, get a car downstairs to a nearby hotel for the night, and fly back tomorrow. It might be an awkward plane ride home, but you’ll put in headphones, turn away, and then… you’ll walk away from Tyler James Owens for good.

With your bag nearly ready, you look around the room one last time, eyes falling on the small pile of his things on the bed. His shirts, the ones you’ve wrapped yourself in so many times, now just reminders of all the blurred lines that never became anything real. You turn away, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, willing the resolve to carry you through whatever comes next.

You reach for the handle of your suitcase, ready to walk out of Tyler’s life for good, when the hotel room door opens behind you. Your heart races, and for a second you want to pretend you don’t notice him there, but when you turn, his expression says he’s already figured out exactly what’s happening. His eyes drop to the half-packed suitcase, then back to your face. His look of confusion shifts into something desperate.

“Please,” he says, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, almost raw. “Please, stay. We can talk about this. Just… don’t leave. Not like this.”

You shake your head, fighting the tears that are already building again. “Tyler, I’m done,” you say, your voice trembling. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either. You keep me close enough to feel like there’s something between us, but it’s never anything more. It’s just not fair anymore.”

You curse under your breath, blinking hard as the tears spill over. You don’t want him to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, hurt. Swallowing back a sob, you start to walk past him, head held high even as you feel yourself shattering. Just as your hand reaches for the door, he says it. Those three words you’ve been waiting for, holding onto, for what feels like forever.

“I love you.”

It stops you cold, and you stand there, hand frozen on the doorknob, not sure if you actually heard him or if it’s just some desperate wish in your mind. But then he speaks again.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice steady, almost pleading. “And if you love me—if you can still love me—then I’m asking you to stay and just… hear me out. But if you’re done with me, really done, and I’ve already lost you… then go.”

The silence hangs between you, thick and charged. You turn slowly, meeting his gaze, and there’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Vulnerability, sincerity, something real and unguarded. He’s finally opened himself up, given you the one thing you’ve been longing to hear, but the choice to stay or leave is yours.

Your chest tightens as you search his face, feeling the weight of all the years, the almosts, the near-misses, the longing. He stands there, his hands clenched at his sides, waiting, as if he’s holding his breath.

“You… really love me?” you whisper, the words barely audible.

“Yes,” he breathes, stepping toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I just… didn’t know how to show it, and I was afraid if I did, you’d walk away. But losing you… that’s the one thing I’m really afraid of.”

You take a shaky breath, looking into his eyes, feeling every bit of his honesty, and for the first time, he’s offering you everything, without conditions, without holding back. The pain and hurt are still there, but as he waits, the tears in his own eyes now, you feel something else rising to the surface—a glimmer of hope.

The words are out before you can stop them.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Tyler steps forward, his eyes searching yours as if trying to understand the storm inside you. He reaches up, hesitantly at first, as though unsure if you’ll pull away. But when you don’t, his hands gently cup your face, his touch warm and grounding. His thumbs swipe at the tears still streaking down your cheeks, wiping them away as if he can erase all the pain he’s caused with one simple gesture.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry. For not telling you sooner, for not making a move sooner… for making you feel like you don’t matter. For making you cry. You deserve so much more than that.”

You’re frozen, his words sinking deep into the cracks of your heart that you didn’t even know were there. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, a silent apology that speaks louder than anything else could.

He takes a deep breath, his voice low but sincere. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m asking… can you give me another chance? To do it right this time? To take you on a real date, to buy you flowers, to tell the world that you’re mine… to be proud to have you by my side. I want to do this right, with you. Will you give me one more chance?”

The weight of his words hangs between you, and you feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin to crack. He’s standing there, fully exposed, offering you everything he’s held back for so long. The room feels smaller, the air thicker as you look into his eyes, where you see nothing but vulnerability and hope.

You swallow hard, emotions warring inside you. You’ve wanted this—wanted him—to say it, to fight for you. And now that he is, you’re not sure whether to run or to stay. But as you stand there, feeling the sincerity in his touch and his words, something shifts. The hurt, the confusion, the loneliness—it all starts to unravel, replaced by a flicker of something new: hope.

You take a breath, your voice barely more than a whisper, but clear enough for him to hear. “Last chance, Owens.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s softer, more relieved than triumphant. He doesn’t say anything else for a moment. Instead, he just pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug that’s full of promise, the kind that says he’s never letting you go. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe him.

You stand there, still in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. The tension that had built up over the last few days—hell, the last few years—seems to fade away in that moment. Tyler’s hands are warm on your back, his arms strong around you as if he’s holding on, not just to you, but to everything that was between you two. His breath is steady, the pulse in his chest calming yours. He doesn’t let go, not yet. You don’t want him to.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. There’s no need to. Words were said, the hurt was aired out, and now, the only thing left is the silence between you—a silence that feels like the promise of something better, something real.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft, full of regret and hope. His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears. "I meant every word," he says quietly, his voice steady but raw. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

You nod, feeling something inside you shift, finally able to let go of the heaviness that had been pulling at you for far too long. You offer him a small smile, your fingers brushing his lightly as you give him a gentle squeeze.

He exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Hey…” His voice is quieter now, almost like he's considering his next words carefully. "How about we skip the rest of the party downstairs? We can grab some pizza, put on a movie, just... relax in here."

You glance at him, surprised by the suggestion, but something about the simplicity of it feels perfect. You nod, the corners of your mouth lifting into a genuine smile. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

Tyler’s eyes light up, a grin spreading across his face. “Good. Go ahead and get comfortable. I’ll order the pizza. Whatever you want.”

You feel a sudden sense of relief wash over you. It’s not just the break from the chaos of the night, but the quiet, intimate comfort of knowing that it’s just the two of you, no expectations, no pressure. 

Tyler watches you for a moment, his smile softening as he watches you dig through your suitcase for something comfortable. You pull out a pair of sweatpants, replacing your jeans, and as you move to crawl onto the bed, he’s already a step ahead of you.

Before you can sit down, he reaches for the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it up over your head. You freeze, giving him a confused look, about to protest. "Tyler, I’m really not in the mood—"

He cuts you off with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Not like that," he says, his voice teasing but warm. "Trust me, I’m not asking for anything like that."

Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, but Tyler doesn’t give you a chance to dwell on it. Instead, he reaches down into your suitcase and pulls out one of the t-shirts you had tossed aside earlier—one of his shirts. He holds it out to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Here,” he says, “put this one on instead.”

You take the shirt from him, still a little baffled. “What’s wrong with my other shirt?”

Tyler grins, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He steps closer, leaning down slightly as if he’s about to let you in on a secret. 

“Because it’s not your boyfriend’s,” he says, his voice low and almost teasing. “If you’re gonna be my girl, you wear my shirt to bed.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. It’s the little things like this—the small gestures, the inside jokes, the way he’s already making you feel like you belong—that make the tension from earlier seem a little less heavy.

You slip the shirt on, and Tyler's eyes soften when he sees you in it, the way it fits just right, the way it looks like it belongs on you. You glance up at him as you finish adjusting it, your voice quieter now, full of warmth. “This better for you, boyfriend?”

"Yes." He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "I think you look pretty damn perfect in it."

You laugh softly, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened earlier melts away, leaving you with nothing but the quiet comfort of his presence. You sit down on the bed, pulling the blankets up and patting the spot beside you. "So, pizza and movies?"

Tyler nods, settling in beside you, having traded his tuxedo for sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hand finds its way to yours as he lets out a contented sigh. "Sounds like the perfect way to spend the night."

And for the first time in a long while, it feels like things are exactly where they need to be.

[freyito]

ʜᴀɴᴋᴇʀɪɴ' ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✩ in which: boothill's been quiet since he came back from penacony. way too quiet.

✧ a/n: little by little im chipping away at my depressive episode and building my motivation again

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, 2.6 spoilers, mention of torture, hurt/comfort, not proofread

✎ wc: 2.4k

Ever since his most recent trip to Penacony, Boothill had been spacing out more when he got home. He insisted, very firmly, that you stay at home this time, leaving no room for any discussion. You were to stay home no matter what, and if he found you had tried to sneak out, even to the town, there would be words to be had. He was never this demanding, and he never barred you from going out. Yet when he told you, there was a certain look in his eyes. Fear. Something so rare within him that it made you obey without a word of protest. Now that he is back, he hasn’t been as energetic as you’re used to. In fact, he had practically stayed glued to the couch. 

You could poke and prod at him and he wouldn’t so much as smirk, and you hadn’t even gotten so much of a squeak out of him aside from why he had left in the first place. Despite his victory, he was just… quiet. You wake up to him staring at the ceiling, chewing on his lip. Even though he doesn’t necessarily need sleep, he’s always cuddling up to you when you go to sleep. So when you wake up next to him (quite a rare sight), it’s odd.

Not just that, but you notice he spends an oddly long time gazing out over the plains that surround your house, nearly unphased when you poke and squeeze at his cheeks. It’s not that he is entirely silent the whole time, but his words are few and far between. You can’t remember the last time he’d been so lost in thought.

After the third day, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. It was fine if he didn’t want to talk about it (though you are certain it would help), but you were starting to miss Boothill’s voice, or the silly things he would do. So, you catch him on the couch while he’s charging, deciding to lay on top of him. Cheek to cheek, you press into him with a smile.

“Hi,” You say simply. Boothill doesn’t react much, looking up at you with his eye and a small grin.

“Hey, darlin’,” He responds, his voice quiet.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Mh, nothin’,” Boothill sighs, shifting awkwardly just a little beneath you. You raise your eyebrow, and he sighs, admitting defeat so easily. “Okay. Thinkin’ about a lot.”

“Care to share?”

“I dunno sugar, it’s kinda heavy,”

“Heavy is the cost.”

A silence stretches between the two of you, as Boothill ruminates over whether or not to share what’s on his mind. You lean further into him, draping yourself over him like a blanket, even though he wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable person to lay on. You weren’t going to say it out loud, and you have spent hours on him before, so it wasn’t necessarily a problem. There were days where his body was the most wonderful thing to lay on, when he had been lounging in the sun and you had been unbearably cold for Aeons knows what reason. In moments like those, he was like your own space heater.

“Well, I mean, there was a lot goin’ on in Penacony, and all these mind games, and…” Boothill sighs, his body relaxing slightly as he pulls an arm out from under you and slings it over your waist. “Got to rememberin’ a lot of things. Stuff I ain’t exactly keen on thinkin’ about. Now I can’t stop.”

“Do you think telling me about it would help?” You purse your lips, blinking at him inquisitively. 

“Haven’t I yapped enough? I swear you ask me about all o’ this at least once a week,” He pokes at your side, causing you to squirm and yelp, before he takes hold of your waist and readjusts both of you, so he’s sitting up and cradling you in his lap. “Gonna make me talk til my jaw falls off, you know that?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, darlin’,” Boothill smiles, something gentle despite his normally cocky grin. “I know you mean well. You’re the only one I like talkin’ to about this stuff, anyways.”

You tilt your head, silently asking him to continue. For a moment he doesn’t get the hint, raising his brow and chewing on his lip. He’s always been avoidant of such topics like the past, not that you could squeeze much out of him regardless. The most he let you know was of his family, specifically why he held a grudge against the IPC, and who he held a grudge against. Not to mention, he doesn’t enjoy talking things out much. He enjoys venting whatever’s gnawing at him in other ways, such as shooting. Still, he always seems to relent when you ask…

“Ah! Uhm, well…” He wraps both his arms around you, finally sitting up. He readjusts, making sure you’re seated comfortably in his lap. “They got me thinkin’ about when I was a kid… Well, more than that, really. Hard to explain.”

“I can listen all day. I like your voice.” You reply smugly.

“I– That’s not what I meant…” He chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head. “It was like a… hm. Felt like the kind of stuff the IPC had done to me when they caught me.”

Suddenly, you don’t know how to react. Your flirty demeanor drops, and so does your smile. Part of you didn’t think it’d be this kind of conversation. While he said it was heavy, you really didn’t think it’d be on the same level. Boothill sighs, patting your back lightly at your reaction.

“It ain’t that bad. I’m back home now, right? All in one piece.” He consoles, his voice just a tinge softer than before.

“Yeah, but–”

“It didn’t do much to me, really. Just got me thinkin’,” He shrugs so nonchalantly, like torture is something he’s used  to. “You asked, right? Lemme continue.”

With a huff, you concede. He strokes through your hair leisurely at your complacence, taking another moment to enjoy the quiet moment. As if what he was about to explain wasn’t something as terrifying as torture.

“It was somethin’ goin’ on with Dr. Primitive. Or at least, someone who aspired to be like him. Really odd thing, actually. With these monkeys and bananas, people wanted to become one. People were becoming one. Freaky, really. I mean, the things were cute n’ all… Not the point.” He takes a deep breath, “Some sort of induction… they… I don’t know how they did it, but they were able to bring back some sort of past version of me…? Took almost everything from me, voice, hearing, colors, sight, anger… they took it all. And suddenly, I felt like I was a kid again.”

The silence continues, while you ponder if anything you’ll say will be right, or okay. There’s not much you can think of to say, without sounding out of place. Dr. Primitive was one thing, and something horrifying at that, but the monkeys threw you off. Furthermore, what Boothill had described made your body feel… cold. It felt like it was one step away from wiping his memory completely. 

“What’s with that look?” He chuckles, shaking off the heavy air so easily. “You asked me to tell you, right?”

“Yeah…” You sigh. It’s still quite hard to wrap your mind around such things, but you do your best to ignore it.

“Now you sound all sad. C’mon, I’m alive, ain’t I? Plus, I think I do feel a little better now that I think about it…”

His voice tapers off at the end, before pursing his lips as if he was thinking. Again. Before you can ask him what else he’s got on his mind, his eyes light up. Without so much as a grunt, he picks you up and sets you down on the floor. 

“Here, actually, I think I’ve figured out somethin’,” He says, placing a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to the front door. He makes no further effort to explain what he meant, simply choosing to lead you off with a smile.

As he opens the door, light spills into the cabin. The land looks practically golden, you’ve forgotten just how beautiful the plains are at sunset. When you two step out on the porch, a light breeze greets you, wading through the grass. Boothill lets out another chuckle, before stepping off the porch. He stands still for a moment, appreciating the art of the world, the way the wind whispered across the grass, the birds in the distance and their song, and finally, he lets out a content sigh.

“Can’t say it’s as beautiful as Aeragan-Epharshel, but…” He begins, looking back at you for a moment, waving you closer. “It’s close enough…”

“What do you mean?” You finally take a step down off the porch. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer with an even bigger smile.

“All that work they did, well it gave me a hankerin’ for the past,” He takes a deep breath, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “Don’t like thinkin’ about it too much cause then I miss it even more.”

He cocks his head down at you, before his hand slides from your waist to your own, interlocking fingers. They’re not cold, for once, about body temperature. Perhaps that’s what you get for laying on top of him. He starts to lead you through the grass, his other hand gliding over the soft blades, sometimes grabbing at one just for the fun of it. However, there’s a certain sadness pulling at his face, his stride, even. He’s quiet for another minute, before he stops.

“It’s odd only feelin’ the wind in my hair.” He states, allowing nature to fill the silence once more.

“Boothill…” You mutter, reluctantly wiggling your hand out of his, reaching up to cup his cheek instead.

“It’s okay, sugar, I don’t need any pity,” Despite his words, he leans into your touch so easily, eyes fluttering closed. “Just… expressin’ myself.” After a beat, he opens his eyes and looks back out on the landscape, sighing softly. “I miss all the mischief I’d get into. After I’d finished my work on the ranch, I’d… run off somewhere, mostly off to the town. I’d get into all sorts of trouble just to keep myself from gettin’ bored. So I could get a chance to run through the fields again.”

He turns to you with a somber look in his eyes, as if he’d tear up. Not that he could, he’d lost that function long ago. His hands fall to your waist, gripping gently at the fabric of your shirt.

“There’s nothin’ quite like that feelin’. Runnin’ through the fields, the wind in your hair, stingin’ your cheeks and fingers, heart beatin’ fast as you find somewhere to hide…” He continues. Again, his voice wavers, and he swallows. He does his best to hold off on his own sadness, something he hadn’t allowed himself to properly feel for Aeons knows how long. “I guess I sorta get it still… bein’ wanted ‘n’ all… but it ain’t the same. It ain’t never been the same since…”

He ducks his head, the wind causing his hair to obscure his face. His hat dips, and you raise your hand to catch it. You don’t know what else to do. You haven’t seen Boothill this sad, ever. He’s always so rowdy and practically radiant, and yet now he’s dour, forcing himself to get his words through. He sniffles, then lets out a choked sound that goes straight to your heart. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in close and squishing your face against his chest. The minute your arms meet his body, he mirrors the gesture. He practically crumbles in your arms, knees buckling as if he were flesh and bone, sliding down in your arms until his knees are planted firmly in the ground beneath you. In turn he presses his ear to your chest, listening to the gentle sound of your beating heart. At this, he grasps your shirt so tightly, pulling you impossibly closer, letting out another whine.

You pet through his hair, doing your best to still your own thoughts. Not only have you never seen Boothill sad before, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so… weak. Especially on the topic of his past. He could always speak of Clementine, of Nick and Gray, even of his hatred for the IPC with such confidence. Never once did his voice break, did his scowl turn into a frown. His body is wracked with shudders, biting his lip to quiet his sobs.

You two stay like that for a couple of more minutes, Boothill clinging onto you for dear life while you did your best to comfort him, scratching at his scalp and shushing him gently, whispering all sorts of cliche things to calm him down. Eventually, he finally lets up, with a soft breath. His grip weakens on your clothes, and he stands up. When he does, you card your fingers through his hair, moving his bangs from his face. He can’t help but let out a weak chuckle, allowing you to enjoy the feeling.

“M’sorry honey,” He mutters, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Didn’t mean to get all gloomy like that.”

“It’s fine, really,” You smile, your fingers lingering in his hair, before pulling away. “I think you needed it.”

“I… probably,” He sighs, “Just got too caught up in… all of this.”

Still, he nudges you, hand finding yours once more. He squeezes it, before leading you back to the cabin. The wind started to bite, the sun just peaking over the horizon as the sky went from orange and pink, to pink and purple. The clouds waned, the stars just barely visible as you two walked back. The silence is comfortable now, a small smile tugging at Boothill’s lips. He opens the door for you, taking one last look at the plains, before stepping in and closing the door.

“I’ll make dinner, then,” He says triumphantly, clearly feeling lighter than before. “As an apology. For makin’ you see me like that.”

“You don’t have t–”

“I want to, sugar. Let me? Please?” He cocks his head to the side, his smile turning gentler.

You wouldn’t fight it, either way. Despite how much he’s enjoyed literal bullets and oil, you wouldn’t dare stop him from cooking. He was like an angel, really, almost terrifyingly good in the kitchen. While you wanted to say that he didn’t have to apologize, if his cooking was on the line, you’ve found no choice but to concede.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[yaaboi-jay]

Mac and cheese recipe from me because why not (i like to cook and i made this so im egotistic)

On a stove, add a thing of macaroni and boil it in a pot. How long? Until it's cooked idk (do this while making cheese sauce

Get another pot. Probably something big enough to hold the mac and cheese so you can place the macaroni where you're gonna make the sauce.

Grab flour, butter, milk, cheese (mix of cheddar any anything else or not. If its pregrated, you can wash it to remove the starch on it but you can skip this, i dont think ot makes a difference.)

1. Melt a half cup of butter (8tbs) on medium. Not high, medium.

2. Put the same amount of flour in and mix it all up until it mixes and becomes like mash potatoes if they looked weird

3. Turn down hest to medium low. Do not let this go to high. Medium low. Make it hot but no boiling. If you mess this up you might burn it.

4. Add a bit of milk (like a a few tablespoons )and mix until there's no liquid and the flour butter parts are more liquidy than before

5. Repeat step 4 but add only a bit of milk each time. Remember don't add a lot all at once. Little by little. DONT add more milk until the previous milk is already mixed in. (If you want an exact amount, I think 3 cups but maybe a bit more or less but do less if you aren't sure. Like 2.5 cups)

6. If its all mixed and looks very much more liquidy, you can add more milk every time until you get like a thick soup. If you aren't sure, add less milk. it should not be too thick, it should still be a free flowing liquid. Always make it thick instead of thin if you don't know. Like Adam ragusea said, you can add water, you can't take it away.

7. Add cheese. How much cheese? You decide. Don't add alot all at once. Add like half a handful and keep going until it looks good. Remember that the sauce should still be a bit liquidy. It's a cheese sauce, not a cheese dip. If you don't know, just add half a handful and a bit more. You can add some later. Sauces are always more liquidy when hot so cooling it down thickens it. (Quarter of half a cup of packed cheese but I never pack it down so don't trust me. It's your food I'm just here for a guide)

8. Mix it all until cheese melts. Once you have a sorta thick sauce.

9. Add seasoning. Salt and pepper is a must. Maybe like a tablespoon of salt and 2 tsp of pepper. Remember if you don't know, add slowly and add less. You can always season at the end. Don't rush it. I add garlic powder, onion powder, chili powder, and paprika. Chili powder and paprika and garlic powder and flavor. Don't skip those if you want enhanced max and cheese. you can always add at the end, don't tush

10. hey your pasta done? Strain it and add it to the cheese sauce. cool it down, come back in 15 minutes and taste. Grab a a bit and put it on a plate. If you don't like it, add some seasoning to the plate. If you like the seasoning, add to pot. If not, don't. Try out small portions to get taste right.

You got mac and cheese! Better than store bought, and more cost effective and delicious!

So like I had a big family party a few days ago and we made mac n cheese cause I like mac n cheese a lot, but we made too much mac n cheese and had like 2 and a half trays of it left after the party

I didn't really mind cause I like mac n cheese a lot and so for the past few days I've just been eating mac n cheese for every meal and I've been loving it

But today my mom goes "we better put it in the freezer before it spoils" and I'm kinda sad about it cause what will I eat now, y'know?

So I go to take a nap and I have this like CRAZY distressing dream where I'm in this white blank void and in front of me is a glowing and floating tray of mac n cheese and I try to reach out for it but my hand just passes through it and then slowly the mac n cheese starts fading away and like I fall down to the ground straight up CRYING because I'm so sad about the mac n cheese leaving me, and I wake up with tears in my eyes and I have that like melancholic feeling of having forever lost something or someone very close to you

The meme above is an artists rendition

[theblessedcap]

A Weekend to Remember 💕

Summary: Terry wants to give his girlfriend Siya (Sigh-ya) a peaceful weekend away at his place to help her loosen up after a rough week. 🩵

Warnings: Some smut 💋 and 420 friendly 🍃

This is my first fanfic y’all so take it easy on your girl. It’s been a while! lol. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terry POV

Friday Night 🌙

My girl Siya, who I’ve been seeing for about five months now, has been expressing her frustration with work all week. I’m not quite sure what her exact job title is but I know she works with badass kids and intense parents everyday in the school system. I’ve always admired her patience with people on a daily. I told her I do labor and engineering work for a reason cause I’d catch a case. Nonetheless, I know she needs an outlet and frankly, just a good time so she can let her hair down a bit. I can admit I’ve been slightly negligent to my lady’s feelings recently due to my own work being a shit storm with high volumes of orders and requests needing to be completed. A couple nights in a row I’ve been falling asleep on her mid conversation from pure exhaustion. I know that stings her a bit because we don’t live together and she really treasures our nightly FaceTime calls. She lives about 35 mins away from me on the other side of the county so anytime I get to see her face I try to make it last. I know she knows I still love her and I’m here for her like always but I’m the type of man to show it. Especially when I know I’ve been slacking a bit.

On the way home from work today, on a high from finally making it to Friday, I text Siya to let her know my plans.

T: Hey babe, hope your work day ended on a high note today. I want you to pack a bag to stay over my place for the weekend. I wanna show you how much I’ve missed you all week.. I’ll be there to get you around 6. I love you ❤️

S: Oooo you got plans plans huh? 😏 lol ok baby, I’ll be ready when you get here. Just let me know when you’re on the way 😘

I smile down at my phone at her response. She always finds a way to make me laugh. That’s why this weekend I want her to feel like she’s fully taken care of. My girl is the kind of woman who loves detail but loves simplicity even more. She loves good vibes and ambience.. she loves to be able to take in all the small joys around her and revel in them while spreading that same feeling to the people around her. It made me think about what I wanted to plan for us this weekend. I want to take Siya’s mind off of all her stress and worries and I have to be quick because I only have about 2 hours until I pick Siya up…

Siya POV

That text from Terry made my day. I haven’t stopped smiling since I got it just as I was about to sprint to my car after calling it a day at work. Don’t get me wrong, I love aspects of my job but the mental rigor of trying to put out fires everyday is A LOT. I was just starting to get annoyed with Terry actually, he’s been seeming a bit distant and uninterested but those thoughts faded away as soon as I read that text. If there’s one thing I know about my man its that he’s thoughtful when it counts and loves to prove it.

Getting home to my quiet condo, I drop all my stuff in my office room then head straight to my bathroom to shower off all the angst of the day. Blasting some Summer Walker and Kehlani while the hot water slowly soothes my body into relaxation. I make sure to shave and moisturize something serious not yet knowing exactly what Terry has planned. I just have a feeling it’s going to make me fall in love with him even more.

After my shower, I decided to fix something small to eat to hold me over and then pack my bag for a stay at my man’s.

*phone vibrates*

T: I’m heading to you now babygirl 🩵

S: Ok be safe ❤️ see you soon daddy 💋

I don’t know what it is but Terry still makes me giddy and nervous. I can’t stop checking my hair and light makeup in the mirror just to make sure nothing is out of place. If he knew I was taking what I looked like so serious, he would reprimand me saying you look beautiful regardless, don’t trip but hey, I’m just a girl with nerves!

Dressed in a causal three piece cozy fit, perfect for this fall weather and brisk evenings, I wait for Tory to arrive while chilling on my living room couch. Just as I start to feel a little antsy my phone vibrates again.

T: Come open your door for me beautiful

Without texting back, I hop out of my seat and speed walk to the door with a smile. I open the door to find my tall, muscular, ocean eyed teddy bear of a boyfriend dressed in a hoodie and joggers to match.

“There she is” he says before softly pulling me into his arms and lifting me into a tight hug. He smells so good..

“Hey baby, I missed you so much” I say before planting a kiss on his soft, plump lips.

“I’ve missed you too baby girl. More than you know. Come on, let me get your bag for you” He says slightly brushing past me into the living room to grab my pink duffle bag. “You ready, mama?”

Terry POV

It feels so good having Siya next to me again. It’s only been about a week and a half since I’ve last seen her in person but right now let me know that’s too long without her. Her soft, luscious, radiant skin. Her fragrance that always smells like something sweet that makes me hungry for her. Head full of curls and that amazing smile that still makes my heart skip a beat. I’m sprung, no doubt. I can’t keep my hands off her as I hit the highway heading back to my place. My free hand found its way in between the heat of her thighs and rested there for comfort as I gripped the steering wheel. Snoh Alegra playing from my truck speakers and our heads bobbing to the smooth tunes. I look over at Siya softly singing the words and I crack a smile involuntarily. Call me corny but I made a playlist just for this ride back so I knew she’d be feeling it.

“You know this is my song” She says with a playful smirk while dancing in her seat.

“Yeah I know love”

Siya went back to her karaoke as i focused on not missing a turn right up ahead of us. As soon as I made the turn off our usual route, Siya stops her concert and looks at me with curious eyes.

“Where we going?” She asks

“Just a little detour babe, don’t worry” I reassure her grabbing onto her hand to hold.

I could tell my words put her at ease. I watch her lean back in her seat to take in the beautiful sunset outside our car windows. The sky barely lit but just above the horizon it’s painted a firey bright orange with clouds leaving small traces of purple and blue. Approaching our destination, I see Siya sit up, peeking out of the windows to take in the view before us. A walking park adorned with vast land scattered with trees and a beautiful lake front that provided a perfect view to watch the remainder of the sunset. The area is empty and barely any cars drive past at this time of day. Perfect for a chill ass smoke session to get my girl right for this relaxing weekend I got planned for her.

Siya POV

Terry is always up to something I tell ya. I’ve always appreciated the effort and thought he puts into the things he does for me. No matter how little or large. Terry knows I’m a sentimental nostalgic who loves taking in sunsets and sunrises. I mean, I couldn’t even count the amount of moon photos I have in my camera roll too. He also knows I don’t take the time to enjoy these things as much as I’d like to. To just be present.. with a beautiful view.

“Let’s sit at these benches over here” Terry said taking my hand and leading me to our seats near the lake.

“This is beautiful Terry. How do you know about this place?”

“Me and a homeboy of mine use to come here and go fishing sometimes. We even came out here just to chill. Get our minds right” Terry reaches into this hoodie pocket, “So, with my beautiful lady having the hard week she did.. I figured we’d start this weekend with some reallll relaxation” he declares pulling out a thick cigar blunt with a playful, big cheesy smile.

Terry and I have smoked together before but it’s been quite a while. Shortly after we started dating we both decided to take a tolerance break and focus on work and being a bit healthier. Not to say we didn’t break our pact from time to time but it has definitely been a couple months since I faced a fat blunt.

“When did you start smoking again?” I ask genuinely curious.

“Right now. I figured since work has been kicking both of our asses, we deserve this. You deserve this,” He says lighting the blunt and passing it to me. Instantly the thick weed smoke and scent hit my nose and brought back all those fond memories of getting high and letting my worries roll off of me like water.

I take a deep breath and allow the smoke to hit my chest. I hold it for a few seconds before a deep harsh cough escapes my throat.

“Take it easy, babe” Terry said laughing while patting my back.

“Oh whatever! It’s been a while” I snap back at him out of a little embarrassment of my fragile lungs. I take another puff and force myself to keep in the smoke long enough to feel the after effects.

“You good mama?” Terry asks me as I pass him back the blunt.

“Yeah I’m good. This shit is hitting me nice..” I say leaning back into the bench, letting my body and mind unwind. I start to listen to the gentle wind of the night breezing past my ears, the lake in front of me rippling from the wind. It’s so peaceful. I feel Terry’s arm cradle my shoulders from be side, providing extra warm from the cool breeze. We continued to pass back and forth until our blunt became a roach. The lowering sun completely gone but now the fluorescent moonlight took its place. It gave us ample light reflecting from the shimmering lake. I could feel every bit of my body soften and loosen up. My head lay back to rest on Terry’s buff arm still wrapped around me. We were both pretty quiet enjoying our high and the tranquility around us. I look over to Terry to make sure he’s okay only to meet his incredible grey eyes, low and hazy from the marijuana, already locked on me.

“How you feeling?” He asks deep in tone, his gaze still stuck on me.

“Good. I feel great actually”

“Good. I’m glad to hear, babe. Come here…” Terry whispers before grabbing me around my waist and pulling me into his lap. Never taking his eyes off me. I was starting to really get lost in them. All I could picture was the last time we fucked, soaking my satin panties as I clinch my thighs on Terry’s lap. My eyes gaze down to his juicy pink lips that just seem to be calling my name. Without hesitation, i pull Terry in for a passionate kiss. Lips smacking and soft biting making us both groan into each other’s mouths. I could feel Terry’s thick bulge grow stiffer below me as he shifts my booty on his lap to help adjust himself. He let out a soft moan before placing lewd, wet kisses all over my neck.

“Terry you know that makes me weak” I moan out as he hits all my spots causing me to quiver.

Ignoring my plea, gripping onto my thighs, he continues to place warm kisses on my neck and slowly down my chest. Suddenly he stops and looks up at me. The moonlight beaming out of his now dark clouded eyes. He sits up, gently moving me off his lap and back on the bench before standing up and starting to take off his hoodie. I bite my lip watching him undress, revealing a white tee hugging his defined abs and massive arms. I quietly stare up at him from my seat, heat rising within me from anticipation, wondering what’s next to come. Also forgetting that we’re technically in public.

I’m high as shit.

“Lay back on my hoodie babygirl” Terry says softly while stretching his hoodie out on the bench space beside me. I do as he ask and lay my heated back to the wood bench to rest. Terry, now sitting by my feet and smirking down at me, slowly turns to me with his eyes still intensely on me, lifts my legs and places them firmly over his shoulders. Now I get the hint..

“Take these off” he whispers before licking his lips and pulling at my pants with authority.

I lift my lower body to assist him in slipping my pants and panties off in one quick swipe. The cool air hit my bare legs and made me clinch my legs shut.

“Open up for me, babe” Terry commands sliding his large body back on the bench and lowering his head right above my wet, aching pussy. “I got the munchies.. but all I wanna snack on is you”

With a sloppy, wet kiss to my throbbing clit, Terry began to devour my pussy like his last meal. I couldn’t help but to moan loudly as he slurps and licks me with purpose. One thick swipe of his tongue after another. As he playful darts his tongue in and out of my pussy and tenderly rubs my pulsing clit, I stare up at the stars above. Thanking God and the universe that I’ve found this man.

“Ahhhh Terry.. this feels so fucking good babyyy” I cry out reaching for the bench arm rest behind my head for leverage.

“Mmm.. you taste so damn good mama.. I could eat you all night..” he spoke with all his concentration still on my leaking pussy. Suddenly feeling two thick fingers slowly sliding into me, I arch my back out of pure ecstasy.

“Fuuuuck” I cry out letting Terry quicken his pace. Beginning to feel an amazing but unfamiliar pressure build within me.

“Pussy clenching up baby, you about to cum?”

“Oh my god… Terry!” I shout unable to explain what I was feeling. Silence falls as nothing but the sound of Terry’s fingers slipping in and out of me and his slurping and smacking fill the air. My eyes close shut and I swear even with them closed, I can still see stars. Suddenly, a loud gush erupts from my slippery center.

“God damn..” Terry groans staring at my pussy forming a puddle below him with a look of pride and accomplishment.

“Did you just make me squirt?!” I asks out of pure shock. Did I really just squirt on my boyfriend on a public bench?

“Hell yeah I did. You got me and my hoodie soaked baby girl” he says with a chuckle and a menacing smirk.

“Oh my god” I say laughing to myself, covering my face as Terry lifts me up to hold me in his arms, face to face.

“Aww none of that now. Shit, that was fucking amazing. I didn’t know you could squirt like that, mama. I find it sexy.. lets me know I’m doing all the right things.. maybe I should get you high and eat you out more often” he suggest with that enticing smile of his.

“Yeah maybe” I respond with a smile and gaining a little sense of confidence back. The sound of loud car exhaust approaching made us both grab for our clothes and get dressed. Terry wasn’t lying when he said I soaked his hoodie. Even with it being black I could tell I left the majority of it damp and knew he’d be cold in this frigid wind as we walk back to his truck.

“I’m sorry again about that Babe” I say with my arms crossed in front of me to shield my exposed skin from the breeze.

“You don’t hear me complaining do you? Stop worrying, love. So what I’m drenched? I love that shit. All that matters to me right now is that you feel good.. you gushing all on me like that just shows me you was feeling more than good though.. right baby?” He asks slowly stepping closer to me, forcing my back against the truck door, invading my space in a way that makes my knees almost buckle. Him and these goddamn eyes!!

“Oh I’m more than good..” I almost whisper looking deep into his glistening orbs, feeling like I’m under a trance.

“That’s what I like to hear. Gimme kiss..” Terry says before pulling me into him by the waist and giving me two sweet, wet kisses, “come on, beautiful. Let’s get back on the road. We still got the night ahead of us.”

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK and sorry for any typos 🙈🩷 Depending on feedback I’ll write the rest of the weekend with Tory and Siya 🥰 I have a feeling this is gonna get cute and nasty lmao appreciate y’all! -Kye ✌🏽

[gothcsz]

part six of the neighbors series. thank you to the anon who sent this angsty prompt for getting the gears turning in my head, hehe. these two are something else, i tell ya. the miscommunication is just so... i am pushing them together forcing them to kiss at this point lol hope you guys like it 🖤 and feel free to send me more things for this little au!

javier peña x f!reader. ~2k word count. nothing too extreme to tag, it's straight up just angst and yearning.

Being with Mateo is nice, sweet even. He calls when he says he will, makes you laugh, and remembers how you take your coffee. And you really do try with him. You take interest in his hobbies, hold his hand when you’re walking down the street, and even let him take you to bed.

The sex is fine, nothing spectacular and just barely above average. Being with him is normal and safe.

But every now and then, your mind drifts to what it would be like if it was Javier in his place. You shake those thoughts off as fast as they come. If you’re going to move on, it has to be for real, not half-heartedly.

It’s a little easier to bury those feelings now that Javier is caught up in something—or someone—of his own. 

She’s over at his place constantly, her laugh sometimes drifting through the walls late at night. It feels like they’re always whispering to each other, talking until all hours, and you hate how that little spark of jealousy sits in your chest.

You catch yourself wondering what her name is, how they met, if she gets that look from him—the one that he used to give you when he’d make you laugh. 

You pass Javier in the hallway sometimes, and when he offers a half-smile and rushed, “Hey,” you return it with something tight and brief, barely meeting his gaze.

But he’s always in his own world these days, buried in work, and if he notices you distancing yourself, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he’s too distracted to care. Either way, it reinforces the choice you’ve made to keep things this way. 

Every time you pass his closed door, you tell yourself you’re doing the right thing. Him being absent is the push you need to keep stepping back, to keep looking at apartments a few neighborhoods over, just in case.

One day, Mateo notices you’re distracted during dinner, poking at your food more than eating it. 

“Querida,” he says, nudging your hand, “you alright?”

“Yeah.” You force a smile. “Just thinking about work.” You try to shake off the odd feelings you can’t seem to put to rest—the unease of Javier wrapped up in someone else and it working for him but not for you, leaving you more restless than before.

He’s become a background hum of missed chances and bad timing.

Mateo catches the shift in your expression and rests his hand on yours. “If it’s about your place, I don’t mind helping you look around. Maybe even do a little apartment tour spree together this weekend?”

His warmth stirs something in you, a pang of guilt for not giving him the part of you that’s still tucked away. “Yeah, that sounds nice. I’d like that.” 

Javier’s schedule continues to keep him out of the complex and you can’t remember the last time you saw him at the embassy.

Granted, you work in different departments but still, there was enough overlap for you to at least catch glimpses of him throughout the day. 

There’s a wall between you two—one he doesn’t even realize is there.

One evening, as you’re walking up to your door, you hear his low voice in the hallway, murmuring something to that beautiful brunette that you feel so strongly against because of your own insecurities. 

It strikes a nerve, seeing her leaned up against his door like that with Javier crowding her, his fingers tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear.

They don’t even notice you and that fucking stings, then you remind yourself that you’re being ridiculous and unlock your door quickly, barely giving him a second glance when he finally turns his head to acknowledge you. You just shut your door.

Later, as you sit by your window with a glass of wine, a part of you wishes you could confront him about it—how you miss having a friend even if these feelings you’ve grown for him have tainted your friendship.

But instead, you brush it off. It’s better this way, the distance and silence. Cutting him off quietly.

You have Mateo now, and maybe in time, those feelings you’re trying to force yourself to feel for him will start to feel more real.

In the meantime, you keep Mateo close and Javier at arm’s length, praying the ache in your chest will fade into something easier to ignore.

When things with Helena spiral, Javier’s entire world dips into a darkness he struggles to fight off.

He’d been steeling himself for months, pretending that what he felt for her was just a part of the job, just another way to gather intel, to stay sharp. But things had shifted, unraveled into something he wasn’t prepared for.

She had become more than an informant; something tangible and real, someone he genuinely cared about. He should have known better than to let it get personal—mixing affection with the job, letting his heart get tangled up in a life as brutal as theirs.

It’s in the wake of this disaster that you pop into his mind again. The truth is, he’d forced you out of it completely, buried you beneath his work, his duties, his time with her.

After all, what place did someone like him, wound up in the cartel’s mess, have with someone like you? You were safe, building a life with an uppity banker, someone who could give you things Javier’s world would never allow. 

Security, stability, and something close to a normal life—things he could barely imagine anymore.

And he’d see it, too, in the way you were with Mateo. He could hear it sometimes through the walls, that light laugh of yours, the one that’d once been his to hear on a quiet afternoon or over a shared meal. Now it belonged to someone else.

Javier would watch the asshole come by, flowers in hand, gifts in his arms, looking like the kind of guy he could never be, the kind of guy you deserved.

Maybe that’s why he fell for Helena so quickly, so intensely. She was tough, resilient, unafraid of the shadows he’d cast around him. With her, he didn’t have to pretend.

They shared the same night-bound existence and he didn’t care that she was a prostitute. She understood, even when he didn’t, the danger of crossing those lines in his work, the way it weighed on him, without flinching at the blood on his hands.

But now… he’s haunted by what he should have seen coming. She’d been hurt, and every part of him feels complicit.

He couldn’t protect her, couldn’t protect himself from feeling it all in his bones, and the guilt wraps around his heart, squeezing so tight it might burst. 

The weight of it pulls him under, and he finds himself wondering how he’s going to claw his way out. His work is far from over.

He's at the bottom of a bottle of bourbon one night when he realizes just how long it's been since he’s really seen you.

The ache that realization brings feels like another knife twisting in his chest. Your bright eyes, that quirky laugh you give when he actually manages to crack you up, and the way you can turn his chaos to calm without even trying—they’ve been missing from his life for months now, and he’s feeling the loss more deeply than he wants to admit.

With sluggish, heavy steps, he staggers across his apartment until he ends up at your door. He knocks, too loudly, too long, until you swing it open, looking bleary-eyed and definitely frustrated. He’s clearly woken you up.

“Hola, cariño—”

“It’s two in the goddamn morning, Javier. ¿Qué necesitas?” 

You’ve got your arms crossed, and he blinks a few times, almost impressed with the improvement of your accent. He opens his mouth, trying to form the words, but you beat him to it, eyeing him up and down.

“Are you drunk? You reek of liquor, Peña.” Your tone is flat. “You need to go back home.”

“Te extraño,” he slurs, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “I can’t be in there another second without feelin’ like I’m losing my damn mind.”

You’re sizing him up, at a war with yourself, and he lets his gaze wander even in his bleary state. You’re wearing that familiar robe with a slip dress underneath, and he has no idea if it helps or makes things worse. 

“Then you should probably call your girl,” you say, voice cool. “Or go upstairs and bother Murphy. I have to be up early.”

You go to close the door, but his large palm spreads against it, steadying himself. “Javier—”

“Please,” he says, voice softer. “Don’t do this. Not tonight.”

For a moment, you search his eyes, your own gaze conflicted, and then, almost begrudgingly, you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, “but you’re out by the time I’m up for work in the morning.”

You let him in, and he feels that distance in your voice like a physical wall between you. It’s his own fault—he knows it, hates it, but here you are, standing back to let him in anyway.

He stumbles, almost falling flat on his face, and your smaller hands catch him with a muttered curse. Like he’s a child.

You steer him to the couch with an exasperated huff, and even as you help him settle, he’s not sure if it’s the liquor making his chest tighten or the fact that you’re handling him with more care than he deserves. 

You wrestle him out of his jacket, tugging it from his broad shoulders, then go for his boots.

The grunts you make in effort, the feeling of your hands on him—even if it’s just to deal with his drunk ass—makes him ache in a way that alcohol only magnifies.

His thoughts drift to places they have no business going. He’d tried to move past the want he felt for you, burying it under other bodies, other names, other distractions. But here you are in a thin slip dress under your robe and all he can think about is how it’d feel to have you moving against him, to finally let his hands roam your curves, bring you pleasure and fuck you like he’s sure no man has. Not even your goody-two-shoes of a boyfriend.

Once he’s settled on your couch, you leave, only to return a moment later with a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table with a quiet sigh. “If you need to puke, please use my bathroom,” you say flatly, “not the new couch.”

“New couch?” he mumbles, sitting up on his elbows and frowning at it. “What was wrong with the old one?”

You just shake your head, the patience gone from your expression. “Goodnight, Javi,” you say flatly, but he stops you before you leave.

“Thank you for this and I’m sorry—”

“Just stop,” you cut him off with a deep sigh. “You’re always apologizing and I don’t want to hear it. Get some rest.” And then you’re gone, the door to your room closing softly but definitively behind you.

After that night, he tries to make things go back to normal but the distance that happened during that time seems impossible to close now.

Every attempt he makes to lessen it only meets the cool edge of your guarded smile or your quick, polite excuses to cut conversations short. The silence between you has settled too deeply now, like it’s found a home where friendship used to be.

He doesn’t know what to do and you’re still stuck in your forced delusion that Mateo is what you want.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️: @persephone-girl . @almostempty . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @samanthajonees . @dontlookatme121 . @thundermartini . @dinanabuu . @cherrysugarx . @dontlookatme121 . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

[manachiichan]

Rooting for you

(Headcanons)

Synopsis: An Alternate reality where you ended up with the Marines instead. Having watched the series, you could only trust Koby with your well being.

Pairing: Koby x Isekaid!Fem!Reader

Spoilers from Water 7 and Marineford! Part of my Isekai series!

Mentions of having majored in marine biology cuz why not...

Just request for part two if anyone wants more...!

|| One Piece Masterlist ||

"Hey...Is she alive?"

"She just fell out of nowhere..."

"Um....Excuse me...?"

Hearing murmurs of concern and skeptism, you moved slightly before letting out a groan as the sun's ray hit your form. You winced as the light stings your slightly drowzy eyes, slowly opening them, you see dozen of figures looming over your form.

All of them being men wearing a white uniform vest and white caps. Your half concious self immediately panicked, overthinking of multiple possibilities the moment your gaze saw that almost every single one of them were armed.

You were lying on a wooden floor, in your pajamas, having no clue of what was going on. The last thing, you remembered was cramming up for 2 days straight for your upcoming exams, before passing out, the moment you took a break.

And somehow...You sat there, having a mental breakdown with a group of unindentified individuals, thinking that you were somehow kidnapped.

"What's the hell is all commotions is about...?"

A burly old man who wore a white suit, an animal hat and a huge coat like cape came through the crowd. He look like he had just woken up from a nap with how annoyed he was.

"Huh...? Who is this little girl...?"

You blinked. You know this man, and somehow you couldn't help but raise a finger on where you have seen him before..

But you soon got your answer when two smaller figures pushed through the crowds.

'No way...'

Pink hair, that noticeable scar underneat a green floral bandana and dark purple glasses. A long haired blonde man besides him. The same pink haired man knelt infront of you with an concerned look on his face.

You would have commented that it was a good cosplay but there was no way they were not real.

"Are you okay, miss...?"

Those gentle tone of pure concern, no cosplay could never replicate one of the characters you personally know and love.

You were in One Piece.

More importantly infront of the eyes of the marines.

"...Huh...?!"

Even if the marines were literary the noble good guys/heroes in the eyes of the people, they were still one of the major antagonists of the whole franchise.

So you were honestly freaking out, that you couldn't help but become feral every time one of those marine npcs tried to approach you. You knew they meant well and was only trying to make you feel at ease around them, but you couldn't help it.

You were watching the series on the pirates' perspectives and that gave you a bad impression of them.

After the whole fiasco, seeing that they were more of the threat to you than you were to them, they began treating you as if you were a delicated flower. As you were terrified, confused and unarmed, the definition of a prey under the watchful gaze of predators.

And with how their sense of justice is, it almost seems unfair for you. In their eyes, you're mostly an innocent civilian. Suspicious but purely innocent in a way.

And for the most part, you somehow understood their behavior. You were in the world where men would literary fawn over any beautiful women that they would let her trample over them. You can't help but question once in a while, how ridiculous and stupid that logic is.

And you are a woman, you couldn't help but wonder how good looking you were in their eyes for even allowing you to do what you want in their ship.

"Which Island are you from?"

"Not here..."

"North, South, East, or West blue? Where from there?"

"No where..."

Garp was mostly laid-back around you. Although he asked a few questions regarding where you lived since he was hoping to drop you off at the nearest habitable Island they see.

But there was something that made him stop, so he decided to just let you be.

You were mostly honest with him, although you decide against on telling him that you were from another world where his was nothing but fictional.

Besides, he could always knock you out with a single punch if you turned out to be a threat.

And truth to be told, you have nowhere else to go. So he took pity on that.

Because you were a helpless woman who have no where else to go, his men literary went on strike when they heard that he was about to throw you off on an island, like how he did with his grandsons

What he didn't know was, as a student who has zero sleep and tends to over think over the most simplest things, you already thought ahead and made plans on what you have to do if you want to last long.

After reading a few isekai manga and transmigration korean manhwas in your little spare time, you decided to use the knowledge of the plot and wikipedia that you have already memorized by heart.

So far, the marines are the safest options to be with if you want to survive.

Even if they keep getting their ass kicked by the worst generations and pirates who has more than hundred million bounties.

But even so, they were still trained professionals, its either that or die trying to adapt.

And out of all the marines in Garp's ship, Koby was the safest option.

You followed him around like a lost child and he was happy to help you to adjust on the ship.

And since, Koby is a literal sweetheart, He doesn't mind you constantly being around him. Infact, he found it flattering how you trust him out of everyone on the ship.

And where Koby is, there is also Helmeppo. He was suspicious of you at first but gradually warmed up to you.

And now you have an older brother figure who is also your bodyguard, throwing glares at any unwanted attention thay his fellow marines constantly throw.

"It's gonna storm soon, better to be prepare..."

"Ah...Theres gonna be a pirate ship in that horizon...Shouldn't you go after them...?"

".....Someone will fall on that stairs soon...."

As days passed, somehow, you noticed how you were able to predict things before it could happen.

Was it a somehow gift from the god who sent you into this world? Anyways, you took that to your advantage and now you're pretty more useful than before.

And since then, almost every single soldier on board had been constantly asking you on predicting the weather or even their own luck.

Koby would fret on overworking yourself seeing how dark your eyebags had become.

"Are you getting enough sleep? Do you need to visit the infirmatory..?

"Koby, I'm fine. This is a normal thing I often do back home..."

"Not sleeping is normal?! You could kill yourself at this rate....!"

Eventually he put his foot down, scolding anyone who even tried to ask you to use your new ability...

Eventually words gotten really quick, or maybe the marines reported back to the headquarters since even Sengoku is made aware of your existence.

Your ability is quite useful, so he inlisted you as a cadet in the navy much to your distain.

But hey, you managed to convince Garp to go easy on you, since you would never even survive his training.

And you learned it the hard way. Your body is otherworldly, and is a bit different from the body of steel that these characters have. You would never survive being tossed to the mountains...

Because well....It's Garp.

Koby had taken over your training. Teaching you combat in the most gentle ways he could do. One in a while, Helmeppo would join you two and pointing out the wrongs, helping you out with correcting the techniques they use.

This brought the three of you closer than before. Now, everyone expects you to be either with one of them if they seek you out.

But most of the time, you were with Koby. And if he was busy, you would be with Helmeppo, either asking for pointers or even fooling around.

But if they weren't available......you were with Garp. He learned to tone down his training with you after he literary sent you to the infirmatory with a single punch.

And you didn't heal up completely until a month later. Putting your training on stand by.

Again, his men literary forgot that he's their vice admiral with how they literary ganged up on them for breaking your fragile bones like that.

Until Garp's ship sailed to Water 7, you immediately knew what was up...

Koby and Helmeppo were really confused. You were literally just dying from training a few minutes ago. But as soon as they mentioned going to Water 7, it was as if you came back from the dead.

"Is there something wrong, (Name)-san...?"

"You wouldn't understand, Koby..."

You fawned over Luffy and Zoro as soon as you saw them... They both look amazing in person...! Minus the fact that you could literally smell their body odors from miles away.

Sometimes, you wonder why the women of their crew managed to survive smelling their scents all the time.

At least Koby and Helmeppo bathes often. They knew how important personal hygiene is anyways.

Yet somehow, you can't help but feel that you betrayed both Koby and Helmeppo, given that the blonde was giving you a look of disbelief and betrayal, seeing how you literally cheered the pirates over them.

The betrayal...! You're not his little sibling anymore!

Although, Koby was happy that he was able to introduce you to his friend. He can't help but feel that you were much more of a fan than he ever was.

Especially Zoro. You just won't stop staring at him. Especially ok those hard muscles of his.

But at that moment, a thought came into his mind. At this point, you know a lot more about everyone than they know about you. It made him feel guilty that he barely knew anything about your likes or dislikes.

So he made more effort to get to know you better.

You have a vast knowledge of the sea, much to the marines' surprise. Koby couldn't help but smile, seeing the way your eyes sparkled as you rambled on about ocean life. The ecosystem of the water around them and the life in it.

Although you couldn't read the world's letters, he was happy enough to teach you read and write. Giving him an opportunity to get close to you more.

And once in a while, Koby found himself, having to spend his night shifts with you, reading you books of the Grand line's marine biology. Watching your every reaction.

The way you have a huge smile on your face and how you turn to him with an excited look, showing a page of something you liked and wanted to share with him.

And without having to reveal that much to him, you would talk about your old life back home before your sudden transmigration. How you were simply struggling to meet ends, studying hard for exams. Getting a degree, although you doubt that will happen now that you were here.

Koby understood now. Why do you look on the verge of passing out when you first came onboard the Vice Admiral's ship. How you were frantic about not being able to take the exams anymore and how he had to calm you down.

Compared to those days, you look more alive and vibrant as the months pass by. You were more closed off but now, you were willing to share this much about yourself.

"(Name)-san...Do you like spending time with us...?"

"Ofcourse...! You guys literally took me in when I needed it the most. I like being here with you..."

Your comment made his heart thump louder than usual. There was relief and joy when he heard your words and something he couldn't understand.

He shook his head, deciding to ignore the odd yet pleasant sensation in his stomach for now.

He really likes spending time with you, too. He likes how you really paid a lot of attention and never once tried to make him uncomfortable.

And you managed to worm yourself into Helmeppo's good side too. It was as if you knew what to say around them.

You can't tell them that you basically watched the whole series, read the manga and even binge read the entire one piece wikipedia though.

Until the report of the upcoming war came. Koby noticed how your demeanour suddenly changed.

You were more anxious than usual. You even lack sleep, as if you reverted back to the time, you first suddenly appeared on the ship.

You were muttering and mumbling more than usual, always lost in deep thoughts.

"...I'm....running out of time....."

".....I...should make a difference....but given how I still lack the skills...."

"Can I......save.....him....?"

You asked Garp himself to finally train you again, much to everyone's surprise. There was a look of determination on your face. You were on a personal mission anyways.

Garp thought that you were finally growing some backbone so he didn't think that much of it. You were now a marine. You can take on a little training.

Little means hell. But Garp is clearly slightly holding back due to your body not being used nor exposed to this kind of torture.

You know that you were literally speed running but you were running out of time.

It was about the time of his capture now. And soon enough, you'll be entering the war that will determine the next course of action of the entire world.

And during the evening, Koby would be the one mentoring you. He was more gentle and less brutal than Garp was, at the same time, he often pointed out the mistakes you did in the day.

"Stay close to us, (Name)-san! Helmeppo-san and I can't protect you if you're out of our sights..!"

"No wait...! I can take care of myself...!

"What are you talking about?! We're in a warzone...! We have to stay together...!"

The Summit war was far worse than it was in the anime. There was blood and debris everywhere. Everyone was dying from left and right.

Seeing the man that drove many fans to tears in the center platforms to be executed, surrounded by the top dogs of the Navy, gave you a reality check.

You can't change anything. You can't speed run through it all. It was an event that was truly unavoidable.

You were no main character like those isekai stories you were all so familiar about. You don't have any special skills to be anything special enough to bend the plot that Oda-sensei created.

Koby and Helmeppo were still far stronger than you, yet they were completely at the mercy of the war. All they could do was shield you from the overwhelming gales of power between the pirates and the Navy higher ups.

You couldn't do anything. You froze when a pirate came, raising their sword to end you. It was different experiencing it in real life.

Helmeppo saved you. Given that Koby was out of it, he was the one making sure that the two of you were still alive.

It was...really different...You finally had a taste of reality. Transmigration wasn't something to be treated with excitement of leaving the world you grew up with for a world you always dreamt of going. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows than what most people would expect.

Gathering your wits, you decided to focus. Ace's death was inevitable. No matter how much you wanted to avoid it. This was reality.

"Koby...!"

Koby was experiencing his awakened observation Haki for the first time. And you knew how hard it is for him, hearing the dying thoughts of each marines and pirates alike in the war. The voices that overlap one after another before eventually fading.

You provided support for him at this time, attempting to silence his hearing by cradling his head as close to you as possible even though you knew it was useless. Atleast, all you can do now was provide comfort for him.

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, this was your new reality. All you can do was watch from the sidelines how truly cruel it really was in the world you only saw in the anime and manga series.

You were not the main character, so you couldn't make any difference. You can only watch as the soon to be Fleet Admiral plunged his overwhelming devil fruit power to an unsuspecting Luffy before Ace took the heat.

You couldn't change anything at all. So what was the point of being here in the first place?

"....That's...what you been feeling all this time, (Name)-san..?"

You froze. Before glancing down to see Koby staring at you with tears streaming down from his eyes.

He read your thoughts accidentally. Using the Haki he recently just awakened.

© manachii 2024 ~ all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, etc. any of the works I made.

[hannahluvsbillie]

one more chance?

casual part 4 ; final part

☆彡 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ~ you wake up to billie next to you; the memories of what happened last night flood your mind.

☆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~ billie eilish x reader

☆ 𝐜𝐰 ~ none

ꨄ 𝐚/𝐧 ~ hi guys! this is the final part of casual, i think. thank you all for your support on this series! keep a eye out for new fics here 😉

you wake up to the sound of soft rain pattering on your window, the sound stirring you awake. you open your eyes, and suddenly feel a weight on top of your arm. your eyes widen and it all comes back to you.

last night billie cried in your arms for hours until you finally made her go to sleep. she never even told you what happened. originally you said you’d sleep on the couch, but when billie looked at you with those sad eyes, eyes that looked exhausted, and asked you to hold her, you couldn’t help but give in.

now, you’re regretting that decision. you gave into her, you told yourself you were done with her, you wouldn’t text her or let her into your house anymore- you especially wouldn’t let yourself get in the backseat of her porsche anymore.

you sigh, looking up at the ceiling lost in your thoughts.

suddenly you feel billie move a little, her arm wrapping around your waist and her head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. this is when you give up, you could tell she really needed someone right now, she needed you right now.

you shift a little and cradle her head in your hand, the other hand gently tracing shapes on her back. something about how she’s breathing told you this is the best she’s slept

in awhile.

a few minutes later she stirs, her arm moves from your waist for just a moment to rub her eyes. her face is still a little swollen.

when her eyes open and meet yours, she rests her head on your bicep, sighing.

“hey” she says lowly, her voice still raspy from sleeping. she looks at you like your the world to her, you remember that look, it no longer makes you feel good.

you smile weakly at her, exhaling a breathe that felt like you’ve been holding it forever.

“billie you know this was a bad idea.” you say, biting your lip without thinking.

you hear her swallow, her eyes straying from yours, moving to the wall behind you. “i know, i’m sorry. i just didn’t know what else to do- or who to call. you’re the only one that can handle me like that.” she says, looking away.

you sigh in defeat, rolling over a little and looking at the ceiling above you.

she sits up, moving from your arms. “y/n i know i fucked up okay, but these past few months have been hell without you. i can’t see other people without feeling guilty and i don’t know why.” she says, not looking at you once

you glance over at her, you can tell she’s being honest. billie doesn’t just say that.

“billie you made me feel used and when i told you, you told me i was dramatic.” you say, looking forward. you couldn’t bare to look at her in the eyes.

she sighs, turning to face you. “i realized that, i never once wanted to make you feel used. it’s just- you scare the shit out of me.” she says laughing softly like she can’t believe it, your brows furrow in response.

“it scares me- the way i feel about you, it was supposed to be just a causal fling. but when i wasn’t around you i felt like i was running on autopilot or some shit- the only time i felt alive was when i was with you. and it scared me. i didn’t know how to deal with it- and i didn’t want to ruin what we had” she says, looking over at you. she speaks like she’s been holding it in for months, which she probably has.

you look over at billie, your eyes soften seeing her expression.

“you wouldn’t of ruined what we had…” you speak softly, and she looks up at you

like she can’t believe it. she can’t believe you felt the same way all along.

“y/n im in love with you. i was 3 months ago and i am now.” she speaks, letting out a deep breath at the end of her sentence.

your brows raise, you never thought you’d hear her say those words.

“give me one more chance, please.” she says, looking into your eyes with desperation. you blink a few times, before gently cupping her face and kissing her.

it felt like a thousand fire works were set off, you missed her lips so much. the way they molded together so perfectly, it was like they were meant to be together. the way her hands gripped your waist was gentle. one of her hands go up and tangle in your hair, holding you in place.

you used to kiss and do this all the time- but this felt different, it wasn’t out of lust anymore, just pure love. it was a good kind of different though. it felt a lot better.

she was first to break the kiss, resting her forehead on yours, looking into your eyes. a soft smile lingers on her face. her hands gently brushing through your hair to smooth it out from her hands roaming your hair.

“so.. can i have one more chance?” she says, raising her brows with a little smile.

you take a moment to pretend like you were thinking about it, but you knew the answer already. you knew the answer the minute you blocked her even if you ignored it. you’d give her as many chances as she needed.

“yes.” you say, smiling back at her.

she giggles softly and kisses you again, her hands gripping your hips and pulling you on her lap playfully. small giggles were heard from both of you as you kissed, both you and billie’s hands roamed around the places you missed most.

maybe you’d regret this in the long run, but fuck if it didn’t feel good to be under her grip again.

[turtle-steverogers]

i rlly like ur posts abt how steves rough time with his dad as a little kid affects him later in life. i was wondering do u think the other avengers notice? and if they do what do you think they think/do about it?

also tbh i rlly like ur posts in general lol. i hope you have a good day!

I think the other Avengers notice after some time, considering most of them have similar experiences. I imagine it's sort of an unspoken thing, but it's almost... more notable on Steve, because he's so goddamn young and because when he wakes up from the ice, he's so goddamn stretched thin, that the reserves he usually has to shove all those old habits into a box are low. He's jumpy, the others notice. A raised voice-- especially male-- makes him flinch before he smooths out his face. Making requests is hard for him, and mistakes-- even small ones-- are met with scrambling apologies and frantic attempts to fix the problems.

No one says anything, because they know what it's like, and they don't want him to feel cornered. But there's a hard mission, and he and Natasha are alone in a motel room, and Steve is so clearly low. Kids had been involved. And Natasha had seen the way Steve had shut down to see the marks and bruises on the little boy and girl they'd gotten out of a trafficking situation, and she understood. Albeit for different reasons, but at the core, the pain was the same. They'd both just been kids when they were hurt. Young and lost and wondering what they'd done to deserve the grown ups around them squashing them down and making them feel no better than the dirt.

He doesn't say anything, so she doesn't either. But that night, she can't sleep, and neither can he, and when she hears him shift, roll over. Curl onto his side as the silent tears start, she can't stand it anymore.

Her bed creaks as she slides out, ignoring the rough crunch of the carpet as she pads over to Steve's bed and climbs in behind him.

She crawls onto the bed behind him, stretching out. "Can I hold you?" she whispers. Steve shrugs. He doesn't care. He doesn't understand why she would want to be the big spoon to his hulking frame, but if she wants to, he won't stop her. He's too tired to. He feels her wiggle close and slides an arm over his chest, hugging him flush against her. Her palm rests over his heart and she rubs, soothing.

It eases some of the weight. Some of the ache. He breathes, shaky. She kisses the back of his neck. It's quiet for a long time.

Natasha's voice is soft and private when she speaks. "It hurts, what they did to us, doesn't it?"

Steve freezes, listening. Natasha holds on. He doesn't move her.

"Why would anyone treat children that way? Hurt them that way?"

Steve clenched his jaw, resignation in his gut. "How could you tell?"

Natasha sighs. "I put it together, more or less."

Steve nods and doesn't say anything. It's quiet here, outside the city. The world dark and lacking that telltale bustle. Steve hates it.

"It's alright that you're hurting still," Natasha continues, and Steve wants to beg her to stop, but he's too curious, too desperate for someone to see him that he doesn't. "It's okay that you're still scared. You're safe, darling... you don't have to believe that yet."

He starts to tremble.

"Shh, baby, hey," she soothes and her voice is easy to stomach. Easy to understand. "Breathe for me."

He sucks in a deep breath.

"Did they hit you in the Red Room?" he asks.

"Sometimes," Natasha says. "It was calculated, though. Discipline."

Discipline. Steve doesn't think his father meant for his hits to be discipline. They were just... correction. To get him to shut up. Or maybe so he could get his anger out.

"Breathe," Natasha reminds again. Steve takes another measured breath. "You don't have to tell me anything. But you can. I won't get it all, but I might understand."

Steve considers that. "How old were you? When it started?"

"I don't remember," Natasha said. "Very young. Four, maybe? You?"

"I don't remember either," Steve whispers, and he's furious. Suddenly, he wants to set the world on fire. For the little girl who just wanted a chance to see the sunshine, and for the little boy who just wanted to play. "Maybe the same."

They fall back into silence. Steve can feel his teeth chattering. Natasha starts humming a song, simple and soothing under her breath. He knows he doesn't have to say anything else; she understands. He lets his eyes fall shut again.

[hellsitedotcom]

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

*·˚ AFTERMATH ft. Aventurine *·˚

words: ~1.6

This is a "continuation" of those First Kiss headcanons I made a couple days back! [Linked in my pinned post]

warnings/info: mentions of drinking, fluff? romance? idk how this works. [AO3 @.evefiction]

English isn't my native language!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Faint, golden light filtered through the blinds covering the bedroom’s windows, soft rays dancing their way toward your face, leaving a warm, tickling sensation anywhere they touched your skin, gently awakening you from a deep slumber. Instinctively, you moved to scratch your nose, hoping the itchiness would subside as you mourned the few more hours of sleep you could’ve had if it weren’t for the light rays. 

As you slowly opened your eyes, your mind took a minute to process its surroundings, the room you found yourself in an unfamiliar space you don’t remember visiting before. The walls had a foreign, bright color to themselves, the decoration somewhat unique – extravagant. You didn’t remember having ever been to a room like this, nor do you believe any of your companions would decorate their room in such a manner. 

You tried remembering what happened yesterday night, though only tidbits of memories floated around your head. Not to mention the throbbing headache making its presence known now that you were awake. You cursed under your breath, trying to shift around the bed you were lying in, when sudden pressure against your back and waist made you freeze.

‘’Stop moving around so much,’’ a groggy voice mumbled into your nape, its sound all too familiar, ‘’It’s too soon to wake up again.’’ You took a moment to process your new discovery, slightly tilting your head, only to find Aventurine lying behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist, face nuzzled against your neck. 

Your confusion only grew, brows furrowing as you tried to recall more memories while the man tried to fall asleep again. ‘’What are you doing?’’ you inquired, a little lost, ‘’And where even are we? More importantly: Why are you here?’’ You remembered going to a bar with him and, much to your embarrassment, remembered kissing him, but beyond that, your memory was foggy. 

A sigh escaped Aventurine’s lips, quietly complaining about being woken up before he spoke, ‘’We’re in my apartment. Yours was too far away, so we agreed you’d stay the night. Nothing else happened. We were both just tired, and I didn’t really want you walking all the way back alone when I know I have enough space here.’’

You just huffed at his response. ‘’That doesn’t explain your proximity,’’ you thought, though you found yourself almost…happy that he didn’t pull away. Careful not to inconvenience him, you turned onto your back, Aventurine’s grip easing the slightest bit at your movement. 

Tilting your head, you came face-to-face with the man, his eyes barely open, a smirk on his lips, ‘’Hey, sunshine.’’

‘’Hey yourself,’’ you muttered quietly, nervousness briefly taking over your expression as your gaze roamed over his face, ‘’Slept well?’’

‘’Like a baby,’’ he chuckled, moving his hand to brush strands of hair from your eyes. In the dim light, he looked ethereal, more at peace than you had ever seen the blonde man. ‘’And you?’’ his voice was gentle, fingers lingering on your cheek before he pulled away, leaving a burning sensation where he had just touched you, ‘’I hope this was to your standards.’’

Your mind was racing, telling you that you shouldn’t be here, that you should get up and leave. But, as you held the man’s gaze, losing yourself in the ocean of his eyes, you found yourself hoping this moment wouldn’t end. ‘’Listen, the Express doesn’t really have luxury beds,’’ you amusedly replied, your lips twitching, ‘’Besides, I think drunk me would’ve slept on concrete and been happy with it.’’ 

‘’I’ll keep that in mind for next time,’’ Aventurine sleepily laughed, ‘’But I think I’d rather have you sleep in an actual bed.’’ As he turned to stare at the ceiling, you found yourself unable to look away from him, a thoughtful expression on your face. 

This was…You couldn’t even put it into words. You weren’t really…friends, were you? But here you were now, lying next to each other without a care in the world. You were enjoying it even, missing his touch as he pulled away entirely, struggling to fight back the urge to reach for him. You did not want to interrupt the beautiful serenity of the moment, but you knew you eventually had to.

What were you even going to say? ‘’I’ve been meaning to kiss you for a while now’’? You couldn’t possibly admit that, could you? He was, ultimately, still a member of the IPC, and you were a member of the Astral Express. Even if there was a tiny chance that he reciprocated your feelings, there wasn’t really much you could do, was there? The way of the trailblaze didn’t really offer much room for…well, this. Or maybe you were just self-sabotaging again.

A sigh escaped your lips without realizing it, too lost in your spiraling thoughts to notice. Only when Aventurine called out to you did you return to reality, ‘’Is everything alright?’’

‘’Huh? Oh yeah, yeah,’’ you reassured, waving your hand dismissively, ‘’I was just thinking.’’ 

This made him shift to the side, facing you again. There was a hint of worry in his expression, hand coming to rest beside yours, barely touching your skin. ‘’Well, penny for your thoughts?’’ 

You could feel your nervosity growing, knowing that you’ll eventually have to talk about yesterday night, about getting drunk, about…kissing. Well, neither of you seemed particularly bothered by it in the grand scheme of things, but it was a conversation that must be held regardless. 

‘’It’s nothing, really,’’ you tried playing it cool, avoiding his gaze as you looked at your hands, ‘’I was just thinking about yesterday night. I guess I didn’t expect it to…well, you know.’’

‘’End up with you in my bed?’’ he teased, though you could notice the hesitance in his words, ‘’Neither did I, if it makes you feel any better.’’ ‘’To be honest,’’ he continued, chuckling to himself, ‘’I wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss me, either.’’

Surprised, you dragged your eyes back up to his face, ‘’You…didn’t? Why not? I thought that’s why you did it in the first place.’’ It never even occurred to you that there might’ve been a different reason behind his choice of wish, besides him wanting to tease you.

Aventurine yawned weakly, slightly turning away again, ‘’Honestly, I guess a part of me did it to see how far you’d go. The other was just selfish.’’ Then he met your gaze again, uncertainty flickering across his expression, ‘’I’ve been hoping for a moment like that for a while. I guess I never had the guts to just…approach and kiss you without an excuse.’’ 

‘’Why not?’’ The words left your lips before you could stop them, and while you did curse yourself afterward, you didn’t take them back. Expectantly, you stared at him, trying to ignore the butterflies terrorizing your stomach, ‘’I thought you enjoy taking risks?’’

‘’The risk of scaring you off wasn’t something I was…willing to take,’’ he carefully replied, reaching to caress your cheek, ‘’I didn’t want to risk losing you, which is weird to admit ‘cause I’ve never felt like this, but it’s too late to turn back now, isn’t it?’’

His fingers ghosted over your cheek, his eyes not leaving yours as you processed his words. ‘’But asking me while I was drunk seemed like a good idea?’’ you muttered, both confused and amused by his thought process, ‘’Have I ever mentioned how your mind works in fascinating ways?’’

The man just groaned, but you could see the smile form on his lips, ‘’I was feeling confident, okay? Figured I could just…play it off if you decline.’’ ‘’Besides,’’ he interrupted, fully facing you again, ‘’You were the one that actually ended up kissing me. So, you’re not much better than me.’’

‘’I lost the game, big guy. That’s why I kissed you,’’ you argued, chuckling, ‘’No other reason.’’

‘’Sure, sure,’’ he hummed, unconvinced as he leaned closer, ‘’I could tell from how you were kissing me that you only did it for the bet. That’s why you didn’t stop until the IPC called.’’

‘’You’re imagining things,’’ you just replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling, ‘’Wishful thinking, perhaps? Or do I need to be worried that you drank too much? Should I call someone?’’

By now, Aventurine's lips were practically ghosting over yours, just waiting for you to give him a reason to close the gap, "Might I remind you that you weren't drinking any less than me? I'm sure your friends from the Express would love to hear that story."

"Don't you dare," you playfully warned him, nose brushing his, "Unless you want me to text Topaz everything."

"You wouldn't."

"Do you want to find out?"

"...No."

"That's what I thought," you chuckled, smirking, "Now, are you going to kiss me or not?"

Aventurine didn't even wait for you to finish your sentence before pressing his lips against yours, your entire body relaxing under his touch. "You don't have to be anywhere, right?" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you closer.

"Nope," you hummed against him, hands gently cuping his face, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, anyway."

The man just smiled before kissing you again, all his emotions conveyed in the simple gesture, taking your breath away as you held his face, thanking whatever higher power blessed you with meeting him.

You wanted to laugh, remembering how only minutes ago you had dismissed the possibility of Aventurine feeling the same as you. Yet, here you were now, in his arms as he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

And as the sun rose higher, you two found yourself not letting go of each other, aware of the long explanation you'd each have to come up with for your friends and superiors.

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[all3-stxr]

silent hill

the trees stretched up above the horizon, making this town feel all the more suffocating, paired with the thick fog as dazai wandered the forest. the trail felt much longer than he remembered, though he hadn’t been in here in the last three years, so he couldn’t say much, even as he approached a clearing to a well that he was sure wasn’t there before.

a faint red light emits from the bottom of the well, a pretty shade of crimson dancing across the underside of the roof, like the reflection of water. curious, he leaned in to see inside, the red light casting shadows across his face as he gazed downward.

a sudden pain shot through his head and he grimaced, taking a few steps back in hopes that putting space between him and that light would help. “god, it’s like someone’s groping around my skull.” he rubbed his temple, the pain slowly beginning to subside a few seconds later.

he shook his head, eyeing the well one last time before following the trail in the opposite direction. he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that washed over him with every step he took, like if he ventured too far, he’d find something he didn’t want to see.

but he couldn’t let that hold him back. he was determined to find you, and he’d do just about anything to do it.

he paused, looking up at the tall gates leading into a cemetery. could this be the way? he didn’t know.

dazai didn’t know a lot of things since you died. life felt empty, hopeless as he trudged about, going through his job only to come back home to an empty house.

he missed your hugs, those sweet little kisses you’d give him before he went to work and right when he came home. those little visits when he would forget his lunch even though he told you he wasn’t hungry, you’d always come just in case. how you asked what he wanted to eat every day despite him telling you that you didn’t have to cook, that just you being with him was enough.

he missed you.

pushing open the gates, he glanced around aimlessly until his eyes fell upon a figure hunched over before a gravestone, wiping away at the dust in a futile attempt to read its owner's name.

he tentatively reached out a hand, grasping their shoulder. “excuse me. . .”

he was greeted by a sharp gasp, and the stranger quickly stood up, stepping back a few paces. it was a boy with choppy white hair and large, heterochromatic eyes, his face pale and his eyes sunken, like he hadn't slept in a few days. “i’m sorry, i- i was just. . .” he raised his hands swiftly, regaining his composure as he took a deep breath.

“hey, it’s okay,” dazai interjected, “i didn’t mean to scare you.” he took a step back, giving the boy his space. “i’m kind of lost.”

 the boy closed the distance dazai just put between them, his brows furrowing. “lost?”

“yeah, i’m looking for silent hill? is this the right way?”

he gave him a once over, nodding. “um, yeah.” holding a hand up, he pointed off somewhere in the distance. “it’s hard to see with this fog, but there’s only one road. you can’t miss it.”

“thanks.” dazai hummed, turning on his heel to leave.

“but. . .” the boy hesitated, taking an unsure step forward, prompting dazai to turn around. “i think you should stay away. this, uh. . . this town,” he glanced away nervously, as if sensing the other’s confusion. “there’s something wrong with it. and it’s not just the fog either.”

“is it dangerous?”

he fiddled with the ends of his gloves. “maybe. . . it’s kind of hard to explain, but. . .”

dazai waved him off. “i’ll be careful.”

“i’m not lying!” the boy insisted, raising his voice slightly.

“no, i believe you. it’s just. . .” he paused, thinking about how to phrase it right. “i guess i don’t really care if it’s dangerous, or not. i’m going either way.”

“but. . . why?”

“i’m looking for-” he hesitated, his eyes falling to the ground for just a moment. “. . .someone. someone very important to me.”

the stranger’s eyes widened a little. “me too. i’m looking for the headmaster. i mean, my father.” he corrected himself quickly. “it’s been so long since i’ve seen him. i thought the other kids were here, but i can’t find them either.” he looked around, eyes taking in all the gravestones, wondering if they were the ones six feet deep, but he shook his head and turned back over to dazai. “i’m sorry. . . it’s not your problem.”

“no, i. . .” he smiled. “i hope you find them.”

“yeah, you too.” the boy returned the smile, gradually shifting his focus back to the gravestones.

the fog seemed to grow thicker as he approached the town, the trees growing sparse as he followed the road. silent hill was just how he remembered. . . almost.

cafes and shops at every corner - small businesses that you’d never recognize the names of unless you live there - the many houses lined up along the road, and those few streets that if not for the fog, you’d see the other end of town. but something was amiss, something that any one person would recognize almost immediately.

it was dead silent.

though in its name, silent hill was never usually this. . . silent. the population was around 2,000 - people usually walked the streets, and few cars would pass by every now and then. there’d be greetings, gossip - in a small town like this, everyone knows everyone. but there wasn’t a single soul wandering about.

cars littered the streets, both in the middle and parked along the sidewalk, some windows broken and smashed in, tires deflated and paint rusted. it was like everyone just went up and left, leaving the town in complete disarray.

dazai clutched the map in his hand, glancing from side to side as he took in the mess. was this really silent hill?

it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. it’s as if this place died with you. like the moment you breathed your last breath of air, the town did too, and you both fell together.

he shook his head, trying to convince himself of happier thoughts. you were here. you had to be. even if this town had died, that doesn’t mean it took you with it. he’d make sure of it.

who else could’ve written that letter?

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

Incorrect quote from an AU that i'll be explaining later.

(still working on the AU name, but 'Brothers in all but Blood' is the top candidate)

*on the way back from a JL meeting* Batman: *Driving* Nightwing: *is also in the car* *Phone ring, Batman sighs and puts it on speaker* Green Arrow: Hey B. That Nightwing with you? NIghtwing: Hi Uncle Ollie! Oliver, nervous: Hey kid. So guys, I, uh, need to know if I can hide out at your place for now… Bruce: Please don't tell me you got into another fight with your father,' ((It's not that he minds Ollie coming over, but Robert never makes Ollie feel nice most of the time. )) Oliver: Er…. No, I….. may have or may have not gotten into a fight with Merlon.

*Bruce slams on the breaks so hard the Batmobile screeches* Bruce and Dick in perfect unison: YOU WHAT?!!?!?!?!?!

Dick, yelling at the speaker: Dude, i haven't even properly met your grandfather, i just saw him a few times at those stupid parties! Have you met that guy? He's terrifying! ((A/N: I couldn't find the name of Oliver's paternal grandfather in the canon universe, so i made one up))

Bruce: Do you have a death wish? Do you have a freaking death wish? Or are you just stupid?

Oliver, desperate: I don't know! He was visiting and saw me, and he started dissing the way i disappear so often, and then it just escalated from there! I went to my room and got out through the window, i'm on some random rooftop right now.

Bruce: *groans* My god…… between one and ten? Oliver, very quietly: .......ten. Dick: That's bad. Usually all it takes is a five for you to hide out at our place….

Ollie: Just please tell me I can come over, Bruce, sighing: Come over ASAP after your patrol. I remember that one time when we were 10 and 11, your grandfather caught us sneaking out during that damn gala….. man i don't like arguing with him. If he wasn't your grandfather, I'd punch him.

Bruce: We have a…. situation over here anyway, and I wouldn't begrudge a visit from my brother.

Ollie: Thanks bro, i owe you some.

(Plot twist, Oliver is the older one, by a year and a half. The JL doesn't know their identities or how they're connected. Bruce and Oliver are both autistic.)

[thefallennightmare]

Hey. Hi. Hello. How are ya?

The whore on my shoulder has been loud since I saw The Plot In You on Saturday. Because of my texts with @artificialbreezy this morning, I’ve decided to listen to her and the whore on my shoulder and write this drabble. It's kind of long for a blurb/drabble. So please enjoy!

Landon Tewers x Reader w/ slight Noah Sebastian x Reader.

18+ SMUT BELOW THE CUT(hate fucking with unprotective P in V, mean and possessive Landon, shower sex, choking, fingering, biting, spanking, teasing, brat!reader, peeping Noah).

“I swear, Lana! I faked it. Every time.” 

She looked at me with wide eyes trying not to choke on her sandwich as we sat around catering. The Plot in You and Bad Omens were touring together and it was nearing the end of the first week out of three. It was the first time I met anyone in the Bad Omens camp and since we both were the only females in each of our camps, Lana and I meshed well together. It also helped that we both were photographers. 

“You didn’t even get one?” She asked, dropping her voice since someone walked past our table. 

“Well, with my ex boyfriend. I faked it all. Now, I’m determined to make sure I get at least one before the guy gets off,” I admitted but then snapped my mouth shut when another body stood behind her. 

Looking away from Lana and up to the man that now stood behind her, looking through the spread of food. The tattoos on his thick arms glittered in the light of the room and when he glanced over his shoulder at me, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the snake and apple tattoo on his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed slowly. 

“Hi,” I gave Noah a small wave as crimson warmed my cheeks when I remembered what happened yesterday.  

I accidently walked into the Bad Omens green room thinking it was the one for The Plot in You and managed to catch Noah mid dress. He was shirtless and stepping into his stage pants. My mumbled apology fell off my lips when I saw all those tattoos donning his skin and the very prominent hard on underneath his briefs. Noah made no move to kick me out, instead he backed me up into a corner, hands resting on my hips. 

“Need something?” He asked. 

“Depends on if you want to give it to me,” I playfully shot back. 

He hummed while slinking his hand underneath my hoodie, fingers grazing over the blazing skin of my stomach. “All you have to do is ask.” 

“I want you to make me cum with those long fingers. Think you can do that, Noah?” I breathed over his lips. 

He didn’t say anything, simply pulled down my jeans to my ankles. 

Noah now gave me a smile before gathering a plate of food to go sit at the table right behind me. When I saw who Noah sat next to, my heart stuttered in my chest when I locked eyes with a pair of dark eyes that had clearly been watching me. Not just today but ever since I started working for The Plot In You two months ago. 

Landon scratched at his chin, sending a wink my way, which made me spin back in my chair to face Lana. 

“What’s going on between you two?” she wondered. 

I blinked while shifting in my chair. “Me and Noah? No-nothing. We’ve just been flirting, that’s all.” 

Lana raised her brow with a sly smirk. “I meant with you and Landon.”

“Oh,” I mouthed while feeling a burning gaze at the back of my head. 

For two months, Landon and I had a complicated relationship. We would flirt with each other but not in the way you’d expect. Landon liked to tease me while I was a brat with him and couldn’t control my mouth. What started as light physical contact like the occasional brushing of hands or his hand on my lower back when he needed to walk past me soon became something more. Any chance he could, Landon would corner me and whisper filthy things in my ear to gauge my reaction. Most of the time I’d be so caught off guard that I would gaze up at him like a deer in headlights. When I did gain the courage, I would find the most revealing yet modest outfit to wear while working, showing off the right parts of my body that drove him wild. 

The other night was the first time that we got sexual when he pulled me into his bunk while we drove to the next city and whispered five words in my ear. 

“Need to taste you, baby.” 

Of course, I didn’t say no. I’d been riled up all week and needed a good orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my vibrator or hand. 

Yet, it never happened. Because as Landon was in the middle of devouring me, my hands gripping the back of his head so he couldn’t leave, his phone rang.

“No, please,” I whined when he pulled away. I’d been so close to my orgasm and was starved for it. 

He kissed the inside of my thigh. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” 

After laying there naked from the waist down for fifteen minutes, I swallowed the lump of embarrassment in my throat and got myself dressed again, leaving his bunk. Neither of us said anything about that night which made me believe it wasn’t what he imagined. 

I wasn’t what he imagined. 

“There is absolutely nothing going on with Landon and I,” I finally told Lana while pushing away my plate of food, suddenly not hungry. “We just like to have fun teasing each other.”

“I think what you and Noah are doing is fun. Which is fine. You’re single, you deserve to have fun. But I think whatever is going on between you and Landon is more serious.” 

“What do you mean?” I pursed my lips. 

She began gathering her things before motioning over my shoulder. “He hasn’t stopped staring at you since you stepped into the room. And the look he has in his eyes tells me everything I already knew.” 

With a wave, Lana left me alone at the table with only my thoughts. 

Not for long, however. 

Landon kicked out the chair next to me before falling into it, dark amber eyes pinning me in place. 

“Need something?” I asked with a narrowed gaze and rubbed my sweaty palms on my bare thighs.

A smirk played on his pink lips underneath his mustache as he leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “With me you won’t be faking because you’ll be fucked like the whore you are.” 

My face blanched for a moment, wondering if I’d heard him correctly, but then anger festered low in my gut when it finally registered what he said. 

“Fuck you, Landon!” I seethed while pushing away from him and rising to my feet, him sitting laxed in the chair as he looked up at me. 

He shrugged. “All you have to do is get on your knees and beg.” 

I sneered while snatching my camera off the table. “All you are is fucking talk. You talk such a big game to make up for your shit performance in the bedroom! You couldn’t even get me off the other night!” 

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to watch us as I dared a glance over to Noah who was watching with an amused smirk on his face probably because he felt proud that he was able to get me off while Landon couldn’t.

Landon slowly rose to his feet so he could peer down at me. His breathing was deep and even, almost scary from how calm he was. It was the muscle in his jaw ticking that told me he was trying hard not to retort back. 

But of course, I was a brat, so I stood up on the tips on my toes to whisper in his ear, letting my hands rest over his broad chest. 

“At least Noah was able to get me off.”

Oh, I really fucked up. 

All because I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut. 

After leaving Landon behind in catering, I needed to be alone which is why I decided to take a shower in the tour bus bathroom. The show was in a few hours so I needed to get ready for it anyway. I’d been alone under the scalding water for less than five minutes before the door to the bathroom clicked open causing me to peer through the steam covered class, seeing Landon leaving against the door with a sly smirk. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, slightly shocked he managed to sneak in but made no move to cover myself. 

“You said I had a shitty performance in the bedroom. Do you want to find out?” He asked while taking off his button up shirt, leaving him in a pair of jeans and a white tee.

I should say no. 

I should tell him to fuck off and leave.

But I didn’t.

Which is how I found myself pressed up against the plastic wall of the tour bus shower, Landon harshly whispering in my ear, dragging his teeth along the lobe, as the water splashed against his large back. 

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” 

A loud smack echoed in the tiny shower when he brought his hand down on my ass causing me to yell out in slight pain and arousal. 

I bit my tongue nearly drawing blood so I didn’t ask him to do it again. 

“Fuck you, Landon,” I spit out instead, the anger from our earlier argument still brewing deep in my gut. 

A dark chuckle brushed against the back of my neck as he pressed his cock against my ass. 

“You can act like you hate me all you want, baby. But you keep pushing that perfect ass against me. I know what you want. But the question is, do you deserve it?”

Yes I do. 

“Go fuck-oh.” 

My threat fell away when his finger brushed along my folds, slowly teasing my clit. 

“Is this for me? Or for him?”

Don’t say something bratty. Don’t say something bratty. 

“Noah knows how to touch a woman,” I shot back over my shoulder. 

Landon let out a low growl while kicking my feet farther apart and bringing my ass closer to his hips so I was bent over, hands spread on the shower wall. I knew I didn’t need any foreplay, I was ready to go, and it seemed like Landon knew this as well because he angled his cock at my entrance. 

“Do I-?” 

I shook my head, already knowing what he was going to ask. “I’m clean.”

Our moans tangled together when Landon pressed inside of me, meeting some resistance so he pulled out slightly before going deeper this time. 

“That’s it,” he grunted while resting his forehead on the back of my shoulder. “Take all of it, Y/N.” 

The sound of him fucking me over powered the noise of the shower as he ruthlessly snapped his cock in and out of me. I clawed at the wall, trying to grasp onto something to keep grounded, and the familiar bliss of euphoria began to burn low in my gut. My orgasm was so close and I needed to finally tip over the edge so I dragged my hand down my stomach towards my clit. 

Landon smacked it away. “Hands on the wall.”

“I hate you,” I grumbled while doing what he said. 

His pace was ruthless, never letting up as his cock speared me open and hitting that spot each and every time. 

“Oh, God.” I panted. 

Landon’s nails dug into the skin of my hips to keep me planted as his cock swelled inside of me, indicating he was close too. 

“Say my name,” he breathed into the skin of my back, his mustache tickling my spine. 

His cock is inside of you, don’t be a fucking brat. 

Once again, I did not listen to the voice inside my brain. 

“Noah,” I moaned while dropping a hand to my clit, rubbing fast circles. “SHIT!” 

Landon stopped mid thrust to wrap his thick and tattooed arm around my throat, bringing me flush against his chest. By now the water had run cold, chills covering my body, and when I tried to get him to move again, Landon chuckled darkly. 

“If you want me to keep going, Y/N, let me hear you say it,” he bit down on the side of my neck. 

“No,” I shot back but still tried to get him to move inside of me. 

The fire of my orgasm was beginning to dwindle. 

Landon began pulling his cock out of my tight folds, making me whimper in a pathetic mess. 

“Please,” I dug my nails into the ink on his arm. “Don’t.”

The head of his cock was the only thing inside of me and I whined, never feeling this empty before. 

“You sound so fucking pretty when you whine for my cock. Just say my name and it’s all yours,” he said in between nipping and sucking on my neck. 

His name was quiet as it fell from my lips with a beg but it wasn’t enough for Landon. 

“Use your manners, baby. I need you to speak up so I know what you want,” his cock was nearly all the way pulled out. 

“Fuck,” I wrapped a hand behind his head. “Please, Landon. I need your cock. Please, I promise I’ll be good.” 

With a hand over my cheek, he turned my face towards him so our lips were meters apart. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised before crashing our mouths together and filled me up again. 

Our tongues fought for dominance and I wasn’t going to give up, something Landon so he let me take the reins of our kiss while he brought me closer to that familiar edge of euphoria again. With past relationships, I was never able to orgasm by intercourse, I always needed something extra to help. But with Landon, he was able to make those stars dance at the corners of my vision and my stomach fluttered just with his cock. 

Pulling away from our kiss, Landon rested his forehead against mine, the water running down his tattoos. “You can tell me you hate me all you want, Y/N. But the way your pussy is gripping me tells me otherwise.” 

Movement through the shower panes of the door caught my attention as I looked into the mirror of the bathroom, nearly falling to my knees in Landon’s grasp. The familiar snake and apple neck tattoo stared at me in the reflection of the glass. Landon must not have shut the door completely so Noah was watching through the small slit opening. 

I tapped Landon’s arm, trying to get his attention that Noah was watching but it only made him fuck me even harder. “Let him watch, baby. Let him know what he can’t have.”

I tried my best to meet his pace but it was so erratic, I opted to fall deeper into his body as his grip around me tightened when my orgasm finally tore me. I let out a loud scream, writhing in his grasp. 

A large hand clamped over my mouth and Landon pressed me against the wall of the shower, his stomach fleshed against my back. 

“You need to be quiet. I can’t have the guys hear how pretty you sound coming apart on my cock.” 

Landon fucked me through the after shocks with a few thrusts before his cock twitched, finally spilling himself inside of me while panting my name. 

Almost immediately he pulled out to turn off the water of the shower, both of us freezing, and I hazily turned around to face him. I stole a glance to the mirror in the bathroom, expecting to see Noah, and I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped when I didn’t see him there anymore. 

“I still fucking hate you,” I grumbled. 

He snickered while gripping my chin so I had no choice but to meet the fire in his eyes. 

“If you keep up with that attitude, I might need some help in punishing you next time.”

I gulped while wrapping my arms around me. “Some help?” 

A sinister smirk broke out on Landon’s face. “Do you want to find out?” 

Please. 

[kunigamikingdom]

angst with toji x reader…… featuring baby megumi.

Toji was a stubborn man. Which was why it was always SO difficult when you got into an argument with him. He would always cut you off mid-statement to make a point that barely matched, or call you dramatic once you started crying about the fact he yelled at you. He was mad. You barely remembered what exactly the two of you were fighting about, but you didn’t care. You just knew he was absolutely pissed, you were upset, Megumi was distracted by TV across the house..

“You know what?! Im done. I’m fucking done toji. Your not even listening to me right now so i’m not even gonna try. Don’t call me, don’t text me, you can throw away the clothes I have here, and tell Megumi i’m not coming home.”

You didn’t even let him comment on it before you grabbed a small purse you had brung over and left, by the time he realized what you were doing and chased after you, you were already driving down the road.

He angrily slammed his head back against the wall, sliding all the way down. The anger was fading off into sadness now. He really did not want you to leave. Just the thought of you not coming home to him, was making him feel like crap. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to go back to his cold, empty, lonely apartment. He didn’t want to not see you anymore. He felt hopeless.

“damn it…”

He quietly whispered to himself, trying to get a hold of his emotions.

Megumi waddled into his room, staring up at his dad with those big green eyes. He would have to break the news that his ‘mommy’ (which he would call you) wasn’t coming home..

He felt like kicking himself because he couldn’t control his damn temper and he had to be so damn harsh to you. He should’ve just stopped arguing with you and not called you sensitive, dramatic, and everything under the sun... He should’ve just listened to you instead of talking down to you. He felt guilty and it’s was eating him up inside. He was trying to hold himself together so he wouldn’t break down in front of his son.

Megumi waddled closer to his dad, reaching up to tug on his shirt. He couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath as he looked down at Megumi, his heart clenching when he saw the little boy look up at him innocently. He knew he was going to have to tell him that you weren’t going to be around anymore. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at his son.

“Hey kid.”

He didn’t know how to say it without making the boy upset. He wanted to be gentle with him. Megumi could tell something was wrong just by the way his dad looked. He’d never seen his dad look so upset before. He was confused and he tugged on his dad’s shirt again, looking up at him with big eyes.

”..Where’s mama?”

That question was like knife through his heart. He took a shaky breath as he picked up his son into his lap. He hated that he had to do this. He hated having to tell his son that his mom wasn’t coming around anymore.

*”..Mama isn’t coming back, buddy..”*

He spoke, trying to steady his voice. He didn’t want to cry in front of his son. Megumi’s little face scrunched up in confusion. He really didn’t understand. He didn’t know why his dads girlfriend wasn’t coming back. He was sad and confused and he didn’t like it.

“Why?!”

He whined, now starting to look upset. He felt even more like crap now that his son was starting to get upset. He was already on the verge of crying himself as his own eyes got watery, his chest tightening in guilt. He had to be strong for his son.

”..She’s not coming back because daddy was mean to her.”

He admitted, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Seeing his son like this hurt him. He really did not want to have this conversation with his son.

Megumi’s eyes started to fill with tears and he started to cry. He didn’t understand. He didn’t like that his dad was mean to his mom. He didn’t like that she wasn’t coming back. It was upsetting.

“Make her come back, daddy! I want mama!“

He wailed through his sobs. He felt his heart break hearing his son cry like this. It was like a dagger to the chest. He held Megumi closer, starting to cry himself. His hand gently rubbing his back to soothe him, he tried to force his voice to speak, but he was so choked up, it just came out in broken sobs.

“I can’t..it’s just gonna be me and you now.”

——-

[gothamite-rambler]

If Odysseus was luckily bestowed demigod status after he died

And knowing he could easily take on Poseidon, Odysseus took the time to mess with him even more. After all, he was related to Hermes, the god of mischief. No one stopped Odysseus because he was kind of warranted this after the insanity he went through to get home.

Poseidon, Hades, Ares, Odysseus, Zeus, and Hera were having brunch together. Hera brought over another stack of pancakes for the group.

Hera: Ody, enjoy the brunch, but is Penelope not joining us today?

Odysseus: She's exhausted from last night, but she does love your cooking.

Hera: And I love her and you because you're a good man who doesn’t cheat on his wife.

Hera glared at Zeus before sitting down next to him.

Poseidon (scoffing): You act like he’s a hero.

Zeus: Not this again.

Odysseus: Let him whine again; he's still hurt that I wounded him with his own weapon.

Odysseus smirked, relishing the chaos he was stirring.

Poseidon (frustrated): At night, I can still feel the trident in my chest, puncturing my organs.

Odysseus (mocking tone): Oh boo freaking hoo. I made more use of it than you ever did, fucking idiot.

Poseidon (defensive): Hey, I’ve done serious damage to mortals, taken down fleets, made men fear me, and used the water as my body to do all of that! I am tough as steel! One human man was never an issue to me!

Odysseus (smirking): All I remember is you begging me to stop while I stabbed you with your own weapon. Then you thought you won our battle by making me a monster like you. I wanted to get home, you got upset because I didn't kill the son that from my new knowledge you never visited. Whatever makes you happy though.

Poseidon: You've heard legends about my strength and power!

Odysseus (after finishing his tea): Then I saw that you are powerful and have small penis energy and had to one up a human man. You know, like bitches do.

Poseidon (angry): I could dropkick your ass right now I don't care if other people are here! I don't give a fuck!

Odysseus (grinning): I can definitely beat your ass now as well. Want to test that theory?

Ares (intervening, amused): Uncle Poseidon, stop before he uses someone else's godly weapon on you.

Odysseus (snickering): You think he'd cry this time?

Poseidon (shouting): Okay, why is he here?!

Ares (nonchalant): Hey, leave my great-nephew alone. I invited him over for brunch.

Poseidon (exasperated): He’s not welcome here! I want him out of this brunch now!

Ares took a quick sip from his tea cup then placed it back down on the saucer. He was a God of War, but not lacking in good taste when it came to tea.

Ares (maintaining his composure): Those who want him to stay, raise your hands.

Ares, Hades, Zeus, and even Hera raised their hands causing Poseidon to shake with rage as the tides outside matched his enraged energy.

Ares (with a satisfied grin): You've been outvoted, unc. Sit down and eat your pancakes. You can fight him afterwards.

Odysseus chuckled, snatching a pancake off Poseidon's plate. The God of the Tides stood up and stomped out of the room in frustration.

Poseidon: I will be waiting outside!

With that, he left in a huff, the rage causing the tides outside to churn wildly for a few moments.

Odysseus (chuckling, mischievous): I'm glad that you welcomed me and my family to Olympus. This has been a fun time so far.

Zeus (pleased): Yeah, we all enjoy your company, and it's only been a year so far.

Hades (with a bemused expression): Honestly, anyone who makes either of my brothers this mad is always hilarious to me. Poseidon has a serious grudge against you, and it's been a long time since that last happened.

Zeus (shaking his head, incredulous): I can't imagine being that petty and holding a grudge for so long.

Ares (rolling his eyes): Dad, even I know that's a lie.