#Ask any of my friends I play that game a normal amount

[arlo-rose]

guys I’m so good at having a laptop

[hyukalyptus]

or else what? —hueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!

cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K

“Why are you being nice to him?” You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, you’re the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humility—it all screams fake to you.

You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how you’re always pointing out when he’s wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friends—not everyone in every friend group has to get along, right? 

“Nice to see you too.”

“Someone separate them please?” Soobin asks. “I can’t deal with another argument right now.” He rubs his temple out of caution.

Everyone’s over for a game night—Soobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, they’re off, but definitely still friendly. 

“How about some Smash Bros?”

“No,” you say to Kai. “Mario Kart.” 

“River and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.”

“Not my problem.”

“How about we take a vote?” He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as you’re the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, it’s still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins. 

“Maybe you should stop pouting,” Sage says, nudging your shoulder. “Beat him in the next round. You know you’re better than anyone here.” You take the opportunity to easily—and quickly—beat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now it’s his turn to pout while he grabs a snack. 

Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the group’s annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you. 

The reason behind the initial argument is long forgotten—you’re seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyone’s keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear. 

“It looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” River points out. “We should probably set up camp.” Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite. 

“What do you think about this spot over here, Sage?” You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Don’t tell me.” You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. “You’re back together?” You ask quietly.

“Please don’t be mad,” they say. “It’s going really well this time.” 

“I didn’t bring another tent.” 

“Kai’s tent is huge,” Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if they’re making a suggestion to him. “Can she stay with you?” 

“I thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.” 

“I was gonna stay in Sage’s,” Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each other’s eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyone’s desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River won’t budge. Sage’s pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agrees—

“Fine,” Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. “You gotta finish setting it up though. I’m gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,” he says, leaving you with an impossible task. There’s a reason you didn’t bring your own tent.

Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, it’s even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kai’s making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesn’t have a dry tent to walk into. 

“Do you not know how to put a tent up?”

“No, actually I don’t.”

“I could’ve set up three tents by now,” he says, but doesn’t have time to be much madder—he’s gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It would’ve been quicker if he didn’t have to work in the rain. 

Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesn’t help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one. 

“Ah, that was my last t-shirt.”

“I’m sorry. I tried—”

“I don’t care,” he stops you, holding his hand up.

Falling silent, you change the subject, “What took you so long anyway?”

“I was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,” he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie before bed?” 

“No.” You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Watching a movie.” 

“Turn it off.” 

“I didn’t ask for permission to watch it,” he points out. “I asked if you wanted to join me.”

“Isn’t it gonna bother the other campers?”

“Doubt they can hear it.”

Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.

“What are you doing? You asshole—” he snaps, glaring at you. 

“Me? You’re the ass for not letting me sleep,” you fire back, narrowing your eyes. 

“I wasn’t supposed to have you in here anyway,” he mutters. 

“I’m not an asshole,” you say defensively.

“Yes, you are,” he spits. “You always have to have it your way.”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.

He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.

“I can't believe you. You're so annoying,” he says. 

You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.

Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, “Where did you get those?”

“My car,” you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but it’s not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. “Can I help you?” You ask without opening them.

“Aren’t you gonna share those with me?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.” 

“Not my fault you didn’t bring back-up.”

He exasperates, clearly done with you and all your…what does he call it? Selfish nonsense? “I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and won’t even share the dry blankets with me?” 

“You think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. “I don’t even like camping but I come along with Sage because they’re my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I don’t know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? You’re never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? You’re always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know you’re just—”

Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, “Would you please just shut up?” 

Seeing him this mad…you don’t know if he’s ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention he’s still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his body—you’ve never seen him before—and you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly. 

You smirk at him before saying, “Make me." Looking over your face, he doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he can’t help it. 

Crashing his lips into yours, you’re taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I don’t–I don’t know, I, uh…” He stutters, trying to find something—anything—to say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now. 

You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, but—

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening? You and I are making out?” He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow. 

“Well, not anymore.” You look at him confused. “Did you forget you’re the one that kissed me first?”

“That was just so you’d shut up.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.” You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. “...Is that why you’re such an ass to me? Because you’re sexually frustrated whenever you’re around me? Do you…like me?”

“No,” he says defensively. “I hate you actually. You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “But the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.” Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, “Is that why you’re such an ass to me?” Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. “It is, isn’t it?” You shake your head. “Say it.” 

“Kai.”

“I wanna hear you say you want me.”

The quickest, most disingenuous, “I want you,” comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? It’s not like you haven’t noticed how handsome he’d gotten recently, but it’s also not like you’ve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, “Now shut up and fuck me.” 

Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chest—full and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside. 

The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking. 

Mouths all over—his on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shoulders—it’s a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust. 

“I hate you,” you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure. 

“I hate you too,” he responds. “So much.” The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he says against your ear. “Don’t even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?”

“You’ve never been any help to me,” you respond. “Plus, we wouldn’t have gotten rained on so much if you didn’t get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Can’t even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,” you spit. “Except…you’re kind of a good kisser.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Don’t lie,” you smirk. “I’m an incredible kisser.” He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. “But you’re taking too long. Hurry up,” you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips and—

“You’re that wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.” You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.

“You’re already that hard and I’ve barely even touched you? Horny loser.” Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.

Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, “You never shut the fuck up, do you?” And he’s relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. “You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“And you think you deserve this pussy?” You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, “A dumb fuck like you doesn’t deserve to even touch my skin.”

“Is that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?” He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. “Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself,” he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground. 

Suddenly, you’ve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, you’re in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it. 

Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you can’t help but reach up—you’re desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits. 

“Every time you try to touch me without permission, I’ll stop touching you,” he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. “Good girl.”

Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? That’s delicious. Heat rushes to your ears. 

“Please—”

“Ah,” he places his pointer finger over your lips. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. “You learn so fast, hm?” You smile—a genuine giddy smile. “So cute,” he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently. 

But when a weak little, “Fuck,” slips out of your mouth, he stops.

“Did I say you could speak?” You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and you’re being such a good girl for me. 

Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. You’re positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to you—touch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on that—not only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what he’s doing, you’ll give him that. 

Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy. 

“Aw,” he starts condescendingly. “Is my good little slut gonna come for me?” You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe it’s the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. “Say it.”

You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, “You’re gonna make me come, Kai.”

“Good girl.” He doesn’t change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does something…expected? Surprising? Honestly, you’re not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch. 

Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk you’ve hated for years making you cry over his cock? 

“That’s for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.” 

What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping he’ll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point. 

“Tell me you don’t deserve me.” You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like he’s proud of you before he says, “You may speak.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” He squeezes harder, almost like he’s saying that’s not enough. “I don’t deserve to feel this good. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t deserve…anything.” 

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip around your throat. He’s done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and he’s determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But he’s gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.

Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. 

Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway. 

“Kai…” you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. “You are gonna let me come, right?”

His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, “You think I should?”

“You better or I’ll…” You trail off.

“You’ll what?” He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Now what’s a good punishment for him? Clearly, he’s used to being the one punishing his sexual partners—you wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You don’t want to overpower him like you thought you did. There’s something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. You’re such a powerful woman everywhere else—the type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting. 

Letting someone take full control over you like this—it’s relaxing. You wonder how much he’s enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasn’t stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course he’s enjoying this. And bingo—you’ve got just enough control to get what you want. 

“I’ll never let you fuck me like this again.” 

Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”

Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you aren’t holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it. 

When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like you’re floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. You’re drunk, high on his cock and the only thing you’re seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips. 

“Talk to me,” he says breathlessly in your ear. But you can’t. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know you’re having an incredible orgasm. 

Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, “Fuck, that felt so good.” 

“Tell me how good.”

“You made me feel so…so fucking good, Kai,” you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? He’s actually pretty hot and he’s damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. “Why don’t you tell me how good I feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says. “Your pussy might be the only thing I like about you.” He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. “Well, maybe your pussy and your tits.” Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin. 

“I need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.” 

“Keep talking to me like that.”

And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you don’t catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites. 

Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, “Damn. That was good.” Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk. 

“Listen,” you say, covering your chest with your blanket. “This can’t happen again.” His smile drops.

“What?”

“The fact that we did that,” you gesture between the two of you, “never leaves this tent, you hear me?” Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. “No one can find out about this. God, I’d be so embarrassed. Let’s just…get some sleep.” 

Did you forget about what he said?

Or I’ll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didn’t let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, there’s too much on his mind. 

[beardysuits]

Closer to Dad pt 2

Part 1 found here

I can’t believe it, I’m uncle Rob! I was still getting used to being a solid 50 pounds heavier, probably even more to be honest. When I dressed up as Rob, I had chosen one of his older football jerseys to feel his stomach pressed against his beefy belly. Each step I took I could feel the fabric stretch to accommodate my new form. I patted it, feeling the jiggle ripple through the rest of my abdomen. This was going to be a fun day.

Normally it would have taken me about 15 minutes to get from Rob’s house back to mine, but with my new longer legs, and the amount of excitement built in, I made it in half the time. Stepping up to the front door, my heart was racing in anticipation. I haven’t spent real quality time with my dad in what felt likes years. To go from being the scrawny son he essentially ignored, to becoming his best friend and brother, was a dramatic shift. However, I let out a long breath of air and pounded on the door with my strong fist. 

Dad, I guess I should refer to him by his first name now, Mike, opened the door and looked at me inquisitively. He wasn’t even wearing his usual jersey, just a green t shirt and jeans, his hair messy, with the locks shining in the golden sunlight. 

“Rob? What are you doing knocking on the door? You haven’t done anything but stroll in like a bastard for years”. Shit, of course I should have just walked in. Rob’s been coming over to our place for years now to hang out with my dad. I chuckled to try and cover.

“What and not take you up on opening the door for me? Fat chance,” I told him with my best uncle Rob impersonation. He rolled his eyes and ushered me in. I think I can still play this off. Coming into my home as Rob made it feel like a brand new experience, like I was stepping foot for the first time. Though that may just be because I’m about a foot taller and my perception has greatly shifted at this new height. 

“You want a beer?” Mike asked, closing the door behind me. 

“It can’t even be 8 am,” I told him without a second thought. His eyebrow raised again. 

“What took you so long to ask?” I asked him back. He scoffed and wandered off to the kitchen. My heart would not slow down. I can make a couple of recoveries, but what am I supposed to do when he actually starts talking about football? Mike came back, and tossed me an unopened can. I popped the tab and took a swing, almost spitting it right back out. Fuck me, that’s what beer tastes like? At the tender age of 20, I was just shy of getting myself any alcohol of my own. Though also, at the tender heart, I was too chicken to sneak one of my dad’s to try before today. 

Thankfully Mike had his back turned to me, otherwise he surely would have seen me grimace from the taste. 

“So, game’s not for another hour,” he said, coming back from the kitchen again, this time holding the entire box full of beers. Oh god do I have to drink all of those? I can’t even stomach one. 

“How about you make your lazy ass of some use and help me stock the fridge? Especially since you didn’t bring any of your own,” he continued. Was I supposed to bring something? I’m clearly an awful guest. I followed him downstairs to his man cave, one which I rarely stepped foot in. 

It was what one would expect of a middle aged man who was obsessed with football. A once plush couch now worn out from years of ass being met with it, a small beer fridge along the side, massive flat screen tv along the back wall. If you pick up a copy of “Man Caves for Dummies”, you’d find this on chapter one. Mike shoved the box of beers at me and I waddled off to the fridge to stock up. Not like there was much space anyways, he always kept it pretty filled. 

As I was finishing up the bottom level of the fridge, I felt a hard smack against my ass, almost causing me to shove my whole head into the fridge. 

“Hurry up slowpoke, I wanna get these chilled before the game starts,” Mike said, pulling another beer out of the top shelf. He already finished the first one? I was too distracted to even drink mine, now so aroused at my ass getting smacked, and being ordered around by my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I was used to him ordering me around before, but this time it was playful. It didn’t help that my new cock was pressed against the silky material of my jockstrap, hidden under Rob’s set of Wranglers. I was chubbed up since I came in his body earlier today, but the touch of Mike, and the material sliding against it, made me rock hard. 

I adjusted my pants to help try and mitigate how much of my cock showed and closed the fridge door behind me. 

“Just giving you time to remember how I got the good ass genes from dad,” I told him. I turned and shook my ass at him, smacking it myself. Fuck Rob’s butt really kept up some perk since his old military days. 

“Please, the only thing you got from dad was a bad back and a receding hairline,” he said, chuckling to himself. He took a swig out of his beer and I decided to mirror him. This time, I knew what to expect and choked down the ale with less effort. This actually wasn’t too bad after a while. He reclined back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the corner L of the sofa. He was wearing his basketball shorts and his calves were showing. I never looked at my father in a suggestive way from the implication alone, but I wasn’t me right now. Even as his brother it felt like I was somebody entirely different. 

I could admire how strong his legs looked, especially when he stretched one of them out to pop his knee. The shorts rode up and a brief glimpse of his thigh bared itself to me. This didn’t help my need to hide my raging boner at all. He turned his attention from the TV and looked at me. 

“What are you waiting for? Permission?” He asked. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. We had an hour until the game, and I immensely regretted not doing more research before I took over Rob. Mike tried to engage with me about the team, sports, players, and I did my best to rebut against them with jokes and more general comments. He definitely knew something was up though. I drank through the whole thing, feeling my new belly slosh as it contained nothing but beer. The jersey I was wearing started to feel even tighter as I felt my stomach expand to accommodate. 

“Jeez Rob are you okay?” He asked me, minutes before the game began. My consciousness was starting to fade some, the alcohol finally starting to kick in. I had to have been 6 beers in by this point, only taking so long due to Rob’s large build. 

“What do you mean?” I asked him, blinking slowly to orient myself. He finished his last bit of his drink and threw it into the closest trash can. 

“You aren’t yourself. No idea what I’m talking about, stumbling through any conversation, it’s like I’m talking to…” he shrugged, “well, Timmy”. That made me snap into focus. The original plan when I took over Rob was to talk to my dad about anything but football, and hopefully, make him actually like the real me. 

“What about Tim?” I asked him. He cracked open a new beer. 

“Well you know, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t get him. Always up in his room all day, toying around with those little figures of his.” My figures I paint as a hobby. Something about bringing those little guys to life brought me a lot of calm. I didn’t even think my dad knew they existed.

“Have you tried connecting with him about what he likes?” I asked him. I knew the answer, but wanted to hear him admit it. 

“Yeah,” he said. Liar. “I mean, kind of. I just don’t get it. You known when we were growing up we were outside, running around the woods, getting dirty. Tim he just, I don’t know, is just a shut in. We didn’t grow up like that, he actually did things. Like when we kidnapped the Connors’ dog and posted a ransom to buy snacks in the summer. I mean you know, we did a LOT together. Tried new things, grew closer. He doesn’t do anything, just toys away and plays on that damn computer”. 

Ouch. Can’t say I’m surprised though, it’s about what I expected him to feel. 

“But I wanna connect with him, you know. I want to be his dad, not just his father. I taught him to ride a bike, hit a baseball, how football works. Then he became a teenager and just dropped all of it and became a different kid.” I was about to open another beer, but wanted to be as much of myself as possible. 

“You know Mike, I think he may have always been like this,” I told him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I think, he just wanted to be the person you wanted him to be so you’d love him. But, he found out that he wasn’t happy doing those things, so he just decided to be himself, and hope you’d love him anyway.” 

Mike was silent for a long time, not even taking another drink. 

“That is, at least my theory,” I said. He shrugged and pondered. 

“I mean I do love him, no matter what he does,” he finally said. “He’s my son. He can be a pro athlete or build and sell a computer for a living. I just figured since we had so much fun together and have great memories, that’s how he should do it too. But, maybe I should try and see how we can do what he likes more.”

I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Fuck Dad, why couldn’t you just tell me that. 

“Thanks Rob for just letting me- are you crying?” He asked. I wiped the tears away and hid my face from him.

“No no, just, fuck it,” I said, looking for a new beer. 

“You fucking softie,” he said, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Here, for you listening to my bitching.” He leaned over the armrest of the sofa for a little while and finally pulled out a new can. He tossed it to me. Raising his own, he opened the tab. I did the same, only to be met with a flare of foam dousing me. He cackled and slapped his knee. 

“Fucker!” I yelled at him, already becoming inhibited from all the drinks. “Gotta change this fucking shirt now,” I told him. I could feel the words slurring as the alcohol came on harder. I stood up, stepping back to try and regain my balance. I grabbed the bottom of my jersey with both hands and yanked it up, my head stuck in the hole before finally tugging it off and slamming it to he ground. 

I looked down, once again admiring Rob’s hairy chest and beautiful pecs. The years of service he did performed wonders on his body, which he didn’t give up on as he reached middle age. 

“Give me a shirt,” I told him, trying to make it to the staircase. 

“Rob fucking sit down, you’re fine,” he called out to me. “Let that shit dry and just be half naked for a bit you puss.” I walked back and fell back on the sofa. My cheeks were flaring up and I could feel my heart pounding from the exertion. I put my hand on my chest to feel the heart rate, and couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the pec succumb to my own touch. I chuckled and looked over to my father, who was looking at me intently. I chuckled to him.

“What?” I asked, losing sight in trying to pretend to be Rob at this point. He smirked. 

“Nothing, just, all this talk about our childhoods is making me just remember the good old times. You know know, the Connors dog, the woods, the…. late night talks. Ones about girls, and who was hot in my grade, who was hot in yours. How we’d-“ he pulled his own shirt off and threw it on top of mine. “Try to figure out what would make them feel good”. 

I admired Mike’s body, not as toned as mine, but certainly he took care of himself as he aged. He own chest displayed a gorgeous set of fur. How did I miss out on just how beautiful he was? How did I not get these genes and looked more like my mother? How is he looking at me so��� sexually? He slid down the L of the sofa, laying his head against the back cushion, throwing an arm behind his head to rest it. His armpit was shadowed in a dark bush, which I can only imagine smelled of a strong musk. 

Wait what the fuck? This is my dad, or my brother? He’s family, but I did jerk off my own uncle just hours before. He’s my dad, but he’s also not making this weird. He’s.. he’s.. fuck he’s sexy! 

“Game’s about to start,” I told him finally, not taking my eyes off his physique. 

“They’re playing the Buccaneers, I know how it’ll go,” he said. He got on all fours and crawled to me. Judging from the look in his eyes, the beers had taken their toll on him as well. We were now face to face, mere inches from one another. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and planted his lips on mine. I pushed back a bit, but he wouldn’t let me break away. His tongue slithered forward and traced it along my new one. I gave in and wrestled his with my own, my lips moving in sync with his. He placed a hand on my chest and squeezed at my pec, the warm touch juxtaposing with the shivers which shot through me. 

I took my hand and placed it on the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As I gripped at it, he became more aggressive and reached for my throat. He wasn’t rough with it, but placed his thumb just below my Adams apple, pressing firmly. My breath was ragged from his force, and my pants had grown so incredibly tight in futile attempts to restrain my cock. My other hand went on the lower end of his back, guiding him to press into me, the fur on our chests entangling. 

He slipped his mouth away from my lips, running them down my neck, kissing me as he lowered himself further down this stolen body. When he got to my belly, he took extra time to take both hands and rub them across it. He worshipped my stomach, kissing at it, gripping, and without a single word, making me know it was his. His hands ran down my stomach to zipper off my hands, toying with it. I spoke back to him with my dick, flexing it to tell him it needed to be released. 

He looked up at me and smirked, lowering his head down again to lick at my bulge. It was torture, I needed to produce it to him and have it slide down his throat. I reached my hand down to get to my pants, but he immediately snapped and grasped my wrists. 

“Uh uh,” he hushed. “Remember, I’m making you the girl here. And a good girl, lets the man do what he wants.” He released my wrists and finally got his hands back on my zipper. He zipped it down, before finally finishing with a flourish and pulling the Wranglers down to my ankles. He worked to get them kicked off my feet, before being met a silky pink jockstrap, which could snap at a moments notice. It was absolutely soaked in precum, and my dick had pushed it to its limits. 

“What the fuck Rob? You sporting these now?” He asked me. I smirked at him. 

“Was just remembering the good times,” I told him with a wink. He seemed to hesitate, almost snapping back to reality. However, the lust must have taken over, as he proceeded to take his tongue and lick up the precum which topped off the jock. Just feeling the tip of his tongue hit my cock made me groan involuntarily. 

“Shut up, Tim might be home,” he told me. I wouldn’t worry about that, I wanted to tell him, but no words could form at this point. He proceeded to lap at my bulge, seeming to suck off any of the pre which had accumulated. Just as it seemed he was about to pull my jock off, he backed away. Fuck, was something wrong? I looked up and saw him working on getting his own pants off. He was struggling, barely able to move at all. 

I assisted him, leaning forward and not taking the same slow care he had given me. I yanked the pants off and discovered two thing about my dad. One, he liked to go commando. Two, he had an impressive cock. Veiny, hard as a rock, and long enough that I knew he could rub out a prostate without even going halfway in. If he was the surprisingly soft and sultry type, I was the ravenous one. I had never actually sucked a dick before, but had watched plenty of films to emulate what others had done. I gripped the base of his shaft, which despite how large my new hands were, still was an intimidating beast. 

I licked at the head of his cock, tasing the musky aroma come to life as the sensation of manhood trickled down my throat. He tasted amazing, his own precum starting to mix with the sweat he had built through the day. I licked my lips, lubing them up as I began to take his entire cock into my mouth. The years of study had prepared me somewhat for what it took to take him, but practice made perfect. At first I almost gagged and vomited the half dozen beers which still waved in my stomach, but as I got into a rhythm, it became easier. He leaned his head back and didn’t say a word, but moans were suppressed from his closed mouth. 

He raised both arms up, showing off his pits. The smell permeated through the air, filling my nostrils. He must have not showered in the past couple of days, as I could smell the usual scent of my father embody the room. It motivated me to work harder, pushing my lips to the base of his balls and holding them in place. He grabbed the sides of my head and thrust his cock back and forth, skull fucking me as a growls began to erupt from him. 

I thought he was about to coat my throat with his cum, but just as he was about to finish, he threw my head back and pushed me to the other side of the sofa. I looked up to find him jerking himself off and staring at me seductively. 

“Turn around and show your big brother that hole of yours,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees. I did as he was told, getting on all fours and facing away from him. I felt the couch move below him as he crawled to me. He spit, and the sensation of his saliva against my hole made me shake. With one hand, he spread my ass cheek to the side, and with the other, I felt him guide the tip of his cock. Pressing against my hole, I gripped at the fabric in the couch, my knuckles turning white. 

“Easy,” he told me. “Remember, just like we used to practice.” He pushed the tip and my hole reluctantly allowed him in. It was a shock of pain which made me scream. His hand quickly shot to my mouth and covered it, muffling my howls.

“I told you to shut up,” He said. He kept pushing his cock further in, still holding my mouth closed. He inch which slid its way in made me try to yell louder in and louder, but his calloused hand pressed harder against my lips. There was a sensation, a pop. Immediately I stopped yelling and groaned again, this time in ecstasy. 

“There you go lil bro,” he told me. “Just like riding a bike”. He pulled out some and pushed his way back in. Fuuuuuuck. Fuck he was so god damn big! He pumped, his cock rubbing against my prostate. Each thrust sent electricity coursing through my body and out the tip of my cock. I hadn’t touched it in ages and wanted to pump in unison with him, but too much of me was just holding on to the couch for dear life. His thrust began to increase in speed, with no room in between for rest. 

“Fuck daddy’s gonna cum!” He yelled out, clearly not worried about the noise anymore. He put a hand on each of my shoulder to steady himself. 

“Cum in me dad, cum in me!” I yelled out, my lips free from his grasp. 

“FUCK!” He yelled out, pushing his balls deep against my bare ass. I felt his cock twitch with his pulse as wave after wave of his cum shot deep into my colon. I counted it out, each pulse getting weaker and weaker, before finally all I could feel was my dad’s stomach resting on my back as he caught his breath. He slid out and fell back on the couch, his legs spread, and while now limp, he cock rested beautifully on his thigh. 

I laid on my own back and marveled at him, so gorgeous even just lit by the TV glow. For a second I was worried in his post nut clarity, he would realize what had happened. Instead, I could hear him snoring, somehow already passed out from the exertion. I took the opportunity to finally whip off the jock strap and pump my cock, which had been lathered up in a concoction of my precum and dad’s saliva. 

I felt his cum begin to leak out of my hole, running into the couch. I grabbed a small handful and rubbed it between my fingers. It was thick and a stark white, prime for breeding. Prime for lathering up my cock further and… lathering… That, gave me an idea. Releasing my cock, I stepped to my pants he had discarded on the floor. I fumbled with the pockets until I found it, another vial. 

Inside was the lotion I had made to slip myself into Rob. I was worried it would wear off while I was here, making me be ejected. So, I brought an extra container in case I had to sip back inside. But, what if I went a step further? Both of us were already naked, so I took the opportunity to pour the contents all over Rob’s body, just as I had done in my real body. 

It was a miracle there was enough, as Rob was twice the size as my original body. However, I finally stood in front of my father, silk, lathered up, and ready to experiment. I was just as careful as I was when I took over Rob’s body. Fingering my dad’s hole and enlarging it. Making it able to take one finger, then two, three, until finally my whole hand was inside of him. I think all of the drinking had sedated him, as he wasn’t moving a muscle from all of the activity. 

I pushed further, finding the process to be much more difficult than last time. Previously, I was going from a short, lanky form, barely 150 pounds into a man twice my size. This time, while my father was hardly a small man, had less room available to take in Rob’s body. I worked carefully, pushing both arms inside, before taking a deep breath and plunging my head inside. This sensation was the same at least. Pitch darkness, a tight sensation, the beating of his heart echoing around me. The issue was, Rob’s chest was so fucking massive, I had to really push to get inside. 

I could still feel my feet outside, so I used them to prop myself up and force myself in further. I could only imagine what it looked like out there. The towering form of Rob, chest deep inside of my dad’s hole as he tried to slam his entire body into him. However, with each thrust, I could feel my body being encapsulated by my father. Eventually I found my whole upper body inside, and I worked to stretch myself out. It was like I was trying to slide into a latex suit that was two sizes too small. Every crevice of mine was suppressed and pushed inward. 

It was constricting, my father’s form could barely contain the man who had at least 40 pounds of muscle on him. But surely, I found a way to get both legs inside and curl my feet in too. I felt the hole close and Rob’s body completely be closed in. Having done this once already, I had an idea of what to do next, but the size difference made it all too difficult. I did learn however from last time to adjust my cock first and not cause a panic. With both arms still not in position with my dad’s, I took my cock and slide it into his like a sheath. 

Before I aligned them though, I experimented and pulled back and pushed in again. I did this a few times, feeling like I was fucking the inside of my father. It was too good, but I had to push on, the constriction was getting to me. I aligned both feet and legs, arms, hands, and finally head. I slithered my tongue into my father, and pushed the top of my head into his. With one final force, I pushed my cock into the tip of his and felt the transformation complete.

I opened my eyes and surveyed the room, my head groggy as I felt the alcohol trying to hold me still. The glow of the TV still reflected off the walls, but more noticeable than that was the smell of my father’s musk right next to me. I looked to my left and found his armpit right next to my face. I inhaled deeply, now aware that I was my dad! I liked at his bicep, knowing all the while this tongue just moments ago was worshipping me. I sat up, trying to orientate myself. 

Everything was the exact same, though now I could see just under me was a pool of the lotion and cum which soaked into the seats. I rubbed my dad’s hole, and found that some of his cum was still leaking out from me. I brought it to my face and lapped it up. It was salty, tinged with the potency worthy of breeding. 

I took another scoopful of his, I guess, MY own cum and lathered up my new dick. As I never did actually finish while I was just Rob, I still had a sizable load to get out. I pumped my dad’s cock which had sprung to life once more. I smelled at this pits as I did so, lapping at his biceps and worshipping my new body. 

NSFW version found here

From the excitement of today, it didn’t take long before I could feel the eruption coming. 

“Fuck I”m gonna cum!!” I yelled in my dad’s voice, before finally letting out the build up of cum spray all over me. Despite getting off just earlier today, it was a cascade as I coated chest. The fur absorbing every drop and sinking into my chest. My cock was bright red, pulsing as each drip soared into the air. But it was over all too soon, and I was left with just myself, the smell of cum, musk, and the football announcers quietly speaking. 

I looked down at myself, proud of the mess I had made. Though, I did wonder what this meant. Was I stuck as my father, with Rob gone forever? Would I get ejected as Rob? As myself? The lotion had lasted this long already, I wonder how much longer I had. If it wasn’t long, I wanted to make the most of it. Slowly, I raised myself up and stood, looking to dress myself up. There I found the jockstrap I had Rob wear, still damp. I stepped in and shimmied it up my legs. 

It was cool at this point, and made me shiver, but it was so good to be reunited with it. I rubbed my hands over my body, coaxing the cum further into my hair and admired the nice bulge my dad gave the jockstrap. Maybe if I can keep this up for a bit, I’ll have to have dad pick up some new clothes…Something with leather perhaps. 

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

A bit of a longer story, but hopefully that makes you all enjoy it even further! Would love to hear from all of you as to what you'd like to see more of as I try to get back more into my writing.

Thank you all!

[cherryspicest]

I'm here for you

Part 1 Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Might not be the happiest Christmas, but surely she’ll make your holiday count.

Only if you could put in the emptiness of your heart inside the white blanket and leave it under throughout the day, you could’ve done it. Yet it was impossible, only to see yourself sitting on the white comfy bed with a pillow atop your legs, blanket tucked in between and your tummy as you rest your arms over the pillow. The pouring snowflakes outside the window was not enough to count Christmas’ for you—unless she replies back with a text.

You didn’t receive any message from Sullyoon again after she greets you Merry Christmas. Though it is a holiday season, a time where she would spend more of her day with her relatives, her active status that shows online throughout the day clears out the good thoughts running up in your mind.

A few hours ago, you called her friend Lily on the phone to ask about Sullyoon, and told you she is with them while you hear clanking bottles in the background. Even with the urge of asking her to give the phone to her, you rather shrugged it off—letting her enjoy the time with her friends even if she has left you like this. 

Enjoy your Christmas love! Call me if anything happens—You type into your phone, unmotivated

You feel pity for yourself, and yet still rather play stupid with all these scenarios that she would sometimes leave you. Throughout your life, losing your girlfriend is what you swore not to happen. One risky action driven by emotions is a sure path for the end of such promise.

You immediately throw the pillow and the blanket when you hear three soft knocks on the entrance door. Expecting it to be your girlfriend, but rather it was Wonyoung—your best friend—standing in front of you in a tight red dress, enough to shape out the perfect curvature of her body. She carries a paper handbag in the other hand with a small christmas tag stapled in it.

“Merry Christmas!” She greets with a sweet smile. 

Her usual smile - cute voice tone combo she always does never gets tiring. The fact that she only shows that side to you gives you the reason to value it. 

You let her in shortly. Her heels make soft thuds in every of her step while she makes her way towards the kitchen table to place her carriage. When she notices you never had anything to prepare, nor even ingredients and food around the kitchen, she flips around to look at you with widened eyes. 

“No food? You haven’t prepared anything for yourself?” She asks, and you push your lips. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

The silence from you was enough for her to take as she scoffs in disbelief. “That bitch didn’t even visit you here, Y/n?”

“Hey, you can’t call her that. She’s still my girlfriend though.”

“So what?” She rolls her eyes and groans. “Where is she?”

“I’m just letting her enjoy Christmas with her friends right now. If she’s happy there then, can I even do anything? I just want her to be happy.”

“No Y/n, you’re stupid. You’re here fucked up around your small apartment, looking helpless, and expecting her to show up in your door when she entirely chose to stay with her friends..”

“Wonyoung, she’s my girlfriend.”

“As if I care?” She raises an eyebrow. Her voice tone went deep and natural. “Plus I know things better, she’s your girlfriend, I’m your girl-best-friend. No wonder she doesn’t have the word best compared to me—because she’s .”

“Alright, no need to say it again.” You interrupt her, and she smirks.

The amount of slurs she said to your girlfriend was enough to make any guy pissed, though you’re not one of them as you take her words completely normal. That abrasive attitude would always show up whenever Sullyoon does something that she wouldn’t like. Insults, jokes, slurs everywhere like a typical male gaming lobby. 

“Chicken bucket? Fries? Steak? What do you want?” She continues scrolling on her phone, not bothering to look at you. “Caviar? Milk Tea? It’s all in me, don’t care if it's priced like Dior or Versace.”

“It’s your money.

“That’s why I’m asking you? I want my money to be wasted on something that would make you happy at least.”

You sigh. “You’re so cheesy, can you stop it for once.”

“I’m not being cheesy.” She grins. That pissed off look seems to disappear right away. “Just pointing out the reason why I’m asking you that.”

No buts, no what ifs, chicken bucket is what you chose, and Wonyoung came to agree with your decision. Tapping the add to cart, buy, then that’s it, the food will adjust for your lazy asses because you can’t head to the chicken store 2 streets away from your place.

The delivery arrives earlier than expected. There was no reason for Wonyoung to flex the thick amount of folded money inside her wallet before she opened the door—-and yet she still did. That action was unnecessary, but it's typical of her, she’d do such things to prove how lucky you are to be her best friend. 

“Are you attending some red carpet event with that dress?” 

She chuckles while pulling the bucket out from the paperbag. “You like it?”

“Probably yeah, it’s just funny you have to wear some luxurious shit just to visit me here.” You grab a drumstick from the bucket and take a bite. “I look poor around you.”

“I’d still appreciate it though.” She grabs a drumstick for herself too. “By the way, did she even greet you?”

“She did, atleast.”

“You even know the place is? Whom she is with?”

You sigh and grin. “What’s with the interrogation, Wonyoung? You sound like my mom whenever I arrive home.”

She pushes your shoulder, enough to move you an inch away. “Hey, I’m asking you? I don’t need your stupid side comments.”

“Come on, she’s with her friends, that’s it, I know she’d be safe anyways. The place?”

“Green flag Y/n?” 

You cross your arm and smile, proud of being called as one.

“No, you’re stupid. If I could only hit you with my heels right now, I would have right now.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uh? You’re really challenging me to do so? You know I don’t say shit that I wouldn’t do.”

You keep your attention on the TV in the living room . “Go ahead.”

Wonyoung’s words were never meant to only scare you away. You ready yourself when she puts down her drumstick over the table, and reaches for her heel. She raises her shoes at you, and you manage to grab her wrist at time. You feel her pushing you more and more, not minding what and where the direction you’re both into.

“You’re so weak, Wony.” You tease, and she lets out a hiss. Her narrowed eyes show how much she wants to win against you. 

“I hate you so much.” 

She groans, and seems to boost up her inner strength. You feel her force get heavier. In a moment, you start to move backwards, her expression is enough for you to see her desire to contest against you. It all stops when your back meets the refrigerator.

Your world seems to pause, everything feels slow. While your grasps are at both Wonyoung’s raised wrists, you didn’t realize how close you were both. Both of your eyes gazing into each other like two interlinked bridges that never get separated. Your breaths are the only ones you can hear between, yet it never stopped you from admiring your best friend’s visual.

You let go of her wrists, it was a weird feeling to remain that composure. The sense of awkwardness struck out of nowhere yet it is a better thing to shrug it off. 

When you make your way back to the table, she follows shortly in a slow pace like a little girl who broke a glass. She grabs her paper bag closer to her, revealing a wine bottle in her hand just as she pulls it out. It was the typical holiday type wine that rich people give their close ones, obviously the same level of status as them where you can’t relate. 

“Someone wasted an amount of stash again.” You joke.

“It’s just wine.” She rolls her eyes. “Stop acting like you never went to the same school as me. You think you forgot how your mom even paid for my private taxi when it was too late at night already.”

“It’s my mom, not me.” You notice her wandering around the kitchen as if she’s finding something. “And, the wine glasses are in the 4th cabinet up there.”

Clumsy Wonyoung as usual, always the struggle of finding something. She’d be losing her pens every single time back in freshman years where she’ll make up an excuse of her pen teleporting in an unknown dimension.

She hands you the glass, then pours the wine carefully in it. She does one for herself then motions to clank with you in which you accepted.

“A great holiday ahead.” She smiles, then sips into her wine glass. 

She’s too luxurious for you. The way you’d drink the wine glass like a milk in a cup, hoping it doesn’t look embarrassing, while she drinks it too formally as if you’re a CEO of some known brand.

Lowkey, you’re expecting some message from your girlfriend on your phone—-yet there was none. A single vibration from your pocket is enough to keep you alive—and there was none even. At least, Wonyoung is here to keep you stable and promising, a true friend who’d never leave you.

“Fuck, the hell even happened to her,” you mutter, pertaining to your girlfriend.

“Sorry?” Wonyoung pauses. 

She notices the phone in your hand which gave the reason for her smile to disappear slowly. She knows it, always your stupidity, but rather not show it to you and decided to continue sipping in her wine glass. 

“Ok, let’s do this,” says Wonyoung as she unexpectedly snatches your phone, then hides it behind her. “No phones tonight, we enjoy this day together like how we used to do when we were still at the same school.”

“Come on, give it back.” You walk closer, effortfully trying to grab your phone back.

“What if I don’t?” 

She places the phone on her other hand, giving you a hard time reaching it unless you wrap your hand around hers.

“Friendship over then.” 

“Is that so?” She stretches her arm down. 

That phone is what all you wanted, and the urge of snatching it back from her is heating you up. No matter how awkward things may be, you come closer and grab her wrist behind, ignoring the close proximity between you and her as if you are cuddling like couples. Her grip on your phone was surprisingly strong that it might take you a little why before you can forcefully free it. 

She looks at you in mischief, then a smirk forms into the corner of her lips. 

“Let’s break our friendship then,” she says softly, and you feel the warmth of her breath on your neck, “chingu geu isang-eul wonhanikkayo”.

“So what did you just say to me?”

“Want me to translate it for you?” 

A quick second glance on your lips, then she leans forward to press her lips into yours. There was no time to react, nor escape in this scenario. You feel your heart skip a beat when you feel her lips on yours, slowly accepting the fact she’s kissing you right now.

The kiss was getting deeper. She slowly wraps her arms around your neck while she pulls you even closer. You feel her tongue asking for entrance, and there was no reason for not to welcome it. She lets out a soft moan when you wrap your hands around her hips. Now it’s a make out session—with your alluring, old best friend that you’ve known more than any you’ve met.

You wanted it so badly. These hormones heat you up as if you wanted to get undressed and finish right away. Yet there was a hold back, a sense of stop like there were chains around your wrists, no matter how much you wanted to continue, it does not let you.

Placing your fingers on her chin was enough for her to stop and pull away. 

“Wonyoung, I can’t. I’m sorry, this is ridiculous.” You shake your head while you avoid her eyes, pulling away as you distance yourself. “I can’t cheat on my girlfriend, you know this is wrong right?” 

“I know it’s wrong,” she contests. “But that’s the only way for you to understand my feelings. 

“Wony–”

“Yes, you’re right. I fucking love you, and I don’t understand why do you have to be numb throughout the years we’ve been together.” She keeps her eyes locked at you. “Because every time I confess, you always think I’m fooling with you, or either way I’m drunk, crazy, or stressed. And here my stupid ass is going to pretend it is because I don’t want to embarrass myself!”

The atmosphere between you two seemed to set upside down when you once heard that deep natural voice from her—it was a cue for her seriousness. Your feelings are mixed like scattered tin cans, nothing specific, hard to distinguish. You just wanted to leave and smell the fresh air outside to calm yourself down, yet you didn’t want to leave Wonyoung like this either.

“I don’t understand.” There’s nothing you could do but leave your mouth open. “That must be the wine.”

She forces a smile, scoffing as she begins to nod lightly while her eyes appear teary. “Yeah, must be the wine, this fucking wine. It’s always me or any shit you would see just to make me look crazy.”

“Come on, do we have to come at this point? Wonyoung you know it’s hard for me to understand this, I have a girlfriend, and . . . “

She picks up her small sling bag from the bar chair, and looks at you, fixing her hair. “I know, you have Sullyoon. It’s my fault as well, I shouldn’t have been this fragile likewise.” She sniffs and moves a few strands in her hair. “I think it’s better for me to go, Merry Christmas.”

“Wonyoung.”

Calling her name was not enough to make her stop from walking out of your apartment. The silence was loud, and you flowed with it.

You find yourself standing emptily  like a mannequin as you watch the door close itself. Everything that happened flows quickly, one an action that can’t be undone, and it’s all gone. That kiss is enough to change how you see your best friend anymore.

[zweiginator]

hear me out. you and patrick are best friends, but you both secretly want more. you decide to go out on a date with someone to try to get over him, but it gets the best of patrick and he bribes the dude not to show up or something and confessions and smut ENSUE hehehehe

like he grew up so rich that he’s a little detached from money and wealth and all that.. so when he knows you’re going out with the captain of the stanford lacrosse team (which he thinks is an incredibly stupid sport)—he meets up with the guy. feigns interest in his game and tells him its in his best interest not to show up to the date he has planned with you tonight.

he looks flabbergasted at how much cash patrick hands him. $2k like it’s a twenty dollar bill.

“why should i take this from you?” of course he’s planning to. he honestly just wants to get his dick wet, and $2k is a lot of beer and weed.

“you don’t have to.” patrick gets in his face, close enough to make the boy visibly uncomfortable. patrick is taller than him by a few inches. he grabs his collar. “i’m just saying it’s in your best, interest that’s all.”

he grabs the cash and quickly walks away, muttering about how much of a freak patrick is.

patrick laughs.

you call patrick an hour after the date was supposed to start. you had waited at the sushi restaurant for the full sixty minutes. texted him a couple times. he never responded; in fact he blocked you.

“pat,” you’re sniffling. not because you really like this guy, but because he left you abandoned like a dumb little puppy. played with your time and your feelings.

this is the part patrick feels shitty about.

“what’s wrong hon?”

“he stood me up—i don’t get why this keeps happening. am i that awful to be around? i did my makeup and everything-“

“shh. you’re not awful to be around these guys are fucking pricks. i’ll beat up every last one of them.”

in reality, he had told your past few love interests he would beat them to a pulp if they showed up on the date. confused, they each took their cash and agreed.

but you are obviously really upset by this. maybe one is forgivable, but four is excessive. four had tainted your self-confidence.

patrick comes to your house with flowers.

“you didn’t have to—oh pat.” you sniffle and hug him, standing on your tippy toes. you’re in the prettiest little sundress. god, patrick wouldn’t take any amount of money to leave you behind.

“sit down. i need to confess something to you. don’t be mad please.”

“did you get caught driving high again?”

patrick laughs. “no, no. i’m better than that now. i—how do i say this.”

“you’re making me nervous.” you cut the ends off the flowers, putting them in a vase. you notice it’s a dozen red roses, interesting choice.

“i—i’ve been telling your past few dates to, like, not show up.”

“what the fuck do you mean?” you slam the scissors down. “how?”

“i have been bribing them. and—threatening them. like, an insinuation there is a threat.”

“patrick what the fuck why?”

you’re livid. he had pretended for months to be confused, had come to your house late at night to comfort you—all because of something he orchestrated?

but you see that look he’s giving you. his green eyes huge with worry and sorrow. he rarely has that look.

patrick swallows. “i don’t want you to go on dates with them. i want you to be with someone who really appreciates you.”

“how am i supposed to know if they appreciate me or not when my dates are all fucking sabotaged?”

“well maybe i wanted to come over and comfort you and watch movies and eat ice cream. maybe those have been our dates for the last few months.”

you know patrick is bad at sharing his feelings but jesus christ.

you lift his chin up; his back is against the counter as you stand in front of him.

“maybe.” you whisper, lips close to his. “you can just ask me out in the normal way.”

patrick slips one of your straps down your shoulders, heart beating. he never thought this far ahead. “we’ve been on a few dates already. i feel like it only makes sense that we fuck.”

patrick fucks you against the counter, your legs spread as he stands between them, pushing his cock into your weeping cunt. god, you wish he would’ve just confessed this earlier. he rubs his cock against you and revels in how you moan for him, clenching around nothing. as he pounds into you, his hands roaming up your body to squeeze and play with your tits, he kisses your neck, whispers in your ear.

“doesn’t fucking matter if those guys showed up i would’ve beat their asses—“ he thrusts deeper. “would’ve slashed their fucking tires—“ he pulls out, listens to you whine for him. and then he fucks back into you. “would’ve sabotaged it anyway. paid them each $2k not to fucking touch you. would’ve drained my bank account for this fucking pussy.”

[gothic-thoughts]

Slow on the Internet

(idek how i found this pic of him but im SO glad this shit exists😭)

(AGED UP) Yuji Itadori x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Streamer!Yuuji, Shy!Reader, RoommateAU, Friends2Lovers

CW: oblivious Yuuji 😭😭, yuuji talking to his twitch chat, reader speaks some Japanese 🤝🏾 Yuuji speaks some English, not proofread

Word Count: 1701

any Japanese is written in Romaji and confirmed by DeepL

It was 10 pm, Itadori was sitting in his gaming headphones on his stylish armchair, playing a popular game while Spotify was quietly playing a mellow song in the background.

"Guys, the stream's gonna be a little quiet, I don't want to wake my roommate."

Itadori tried not to make too much noise, talking quietly to his audience.

- Which one?

- Is it (Y/n)??

- Megumi or the American girl you brought on a while ago?

- The girl??

 "Yes, I’m talking about (Y/n). Megumi's out for the night. Uh, for those new to stream, a couple streams ago..." Yuuji laughs into his hand, "Like 3 streams ago, I forced my roommate, (Y/n), to make a... commentary vid with me."

- You should force her back fr 👀👀

- Bring her back, yall were cute

- You guys chemistry was adorable, u sure she's just a roomie??👀👀

He laughed at the comments, a little embarrassed at the idea of having chemistry with his roommate, but it was sweet of them to think that. He shook his head and laughed, trying to brush it off as a friendly relationship.

"Shut up, it’s a normal amount of chemistry! I like to think we have a cool dynamic.”

- UR TELLING ME U DON'T LIKE HER??

- denial isn’t healthy, Itadori

- but does she want to STAY ur friend??

It was flattering how invested they were in a relationship between him and (Y/n). He wasn't sure what his chat was implying, surely they were teasing him. There was a little part of him that liked and even agreed with his chat's implications. He was glad they were taking so much interest in his friendship with (Y/n). It was sweet.

"I- what are you guys saying?" He laughed nervously, his cheeks red.

- THAT SHE LIKES U DUH

- U LIKE EACH OTHER??

- ITADORI UR FUMBLING

"You really think my roommate likes me? Really?"

- YES

- The only she could make it more obvious was if she kissed you like r u srs 😭😭

- Does she take or borrow ur stuff a bunch?

"Oh yeah, all the time." He laughed, nodding. "Like she'll use my body soap and won’t give it back unless I ask. Sometimes she'll even just take my clothes and leave them somewhere in her heya (room); sore wa wakaranai (I don't get that)."

- Bro cuz she likes u

- YUUJI WHAT

- She got it bad too. Both of u do

- AND U FRIENDZONED HER??

His heart was beginning to race a little as his chat spoke and said all these things. He laughed nervously, but he didn't deny any of their comments. He wondered if all these things actually were happening because she did have feelings for him.

"No, no I didn't... did I?"

- How do u curve a goddess BY ACCIDENT?

- Rejecting someone by accident is crazy

- She is fine asf lowkey

He shivered a little as his chat continued, making him begin to feel a little bad for keeping his feelings to himself and even stupid when realizing that he wasn’t reading her feelings correctly.

"I don't know, I mean.... it never crossed my mind that she really liked me. Maybe... but she just did small things."

He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say. "I didn’t think she’d like me, I thought she was just doing it cuz she’s still fairly new to Japan. Aside from the fact that she’s out of my league."

- is it because she's older than you?

- I dont even think ur age gap is even that big smh

- how old is she anyway? U look about the same age

- Ik ur 21 but how old is (Y/n)?

"How old? She's 23, but still..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, his face red. He just didn't know what to say so he just laughed nervously. They kept describing her and it made him feel bad, thinking that he had been doing this to her, hopefully she still liked him so he could try again.

- ONLY 2 YEARS AND U STRESSIN BOUT AN AGE GAP???

- If you don't GO CONFESS LIKE AN ADULT😭😭

- Ur both young adults so age is just a number fr

- Yuuji, don't piss me off 🙄😤

Itadori couldn't help but laugh the more he read, unable to deny the comments that his chat was making. It felt like his chat had read his mind.  

"Okay okay, wakattyo (i get it)! She likes me, I might like her, age isn't an issue. What am I supposed to do though?"

- Talk to her wat 😭😭

- UH TALK TO HER??

- Ask her out duh.

He laughed and read the comments. His chat was making it so simple.

"Come on guys, it can't be that simple. I live with her! What if she doesn't feel the same and things end up being awkward?"

Itadori jumps out of his chair, his heart beating out of his chest when he hears the only other person in the house knock on his bedroom door. Shit. Of course. He then realized he had his stream on the whole time so she definitely heard everything. He got up and walked over to his door. He cracked open the door, peeking through with his cheeks still red.

“Hey, Yuu.”

"Hey... did you hear nandemo (anything)?"

"Hear what?" (Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, "You on the phone?”

He paused and smiled, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was just making sure I wasn’t being too, um, loud. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, but I woke up wanting something sweet. I'm running to the konbini, nani ka hoshi mono wa?"

“Yeah, sure.” He paused, thinking of something, "Can you get me some ichigo pocky?"

“Honto ni? I was gonna get the same thing.”

He laughed, her answer surprised him. "Really?"

“Yea. Alright, I'll be right back."

He smiles, waiting for her to come back. He had so many thoughts, so much to process about the stuff his chat said and his own feelings for her. He waited for her to come back with the strawberry pocky.

- Well???

- Did she seem to like u??

- What she say?

“There's really no reason for me not to like her, ya know? I'm starting to think I like her back, really like her, she’s so sweet." He rubbed his neck, feeling guilty, "You guys were right, I've been rejecting her by accident. When she gets back, I want to tell her."

- YAAY

- LETSSGOOO

- THATS MY BOY

- GAMER BF + SHY GF FTW

The comments made him smile even brighter. The chat called her his girlfriend, but he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He could only hope she'd respond positively.

"Shut up guys, I'm not her boyfriend.... well, yet hopefully."

20 minutes later, she walks into his room with snacks and a few drinks in a bag. He didn't expect her to come back so fast but it made him grateful. He was smiling wide as he took off his headphones and paused his game again, realizing how cute she was when she was just being herself. (Y/n) pauses in his doorway with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Are--” She lowered her voice, “Are you streaming?”

"Uh, heh yeah. Uh, my chat they made me see something. It has to do with you."

“Oh god...” She chuckles and waves shyly at the camera, walking over, “They don't want me on another stream, do they?”

His chat was blowing up with comments, excited at the appearance of his roommate again. "Shut up guys, I swear. It wasn't planned. Anyway, you don't have to come near the camera.”

“I don’t, good; I was freaking out already.” She laughs.

“Do you mind if I keep streaming while we talk?"

“Uh... sure, why?” She hands him a soda and the boxes of pocky then backs out of the camera, “You making me nervous~”

"Yeah, sorry. They've really grown to like you, so they're excited to see you again."

“I was only in one stream!”

"I know, I know, but they really liked you. So every time you show up again, they get really excited because they love seeing more of you."

“I didn’t know I had fans; is that what you wanted to tell me?”

He sighed, "No, it's not. There's something else."

“Mkay...?”

"Alright.” He takes a deep breath and stands, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself, “So chat made me realize that I’m a biggest idiot in the world. I... I like you, (Y/n).”

“You're...” (Y/n) chuckles uncomfortably, “You’re joking? Kore wa jyooku desu ka?”

"No, no. I mean it. They helped me realize that you liked me so I wanted to tell you that.”

“But I thought you didn't like me.”

"Yeah, well, I thought I didn't, I realized it after they pointed out how we treat each other. And they were right.”

“So you were rejecting me... by accident?!”

“I just thought you'd stick around me cuz you’re still a little new to Japan!"

“Yuuji, I've lived here for like 5 months now!”

“Yeah, but I thought, like... I don’t know!”

“God, you be so clueless sometimes.” She sighs deeply, “Since I know now, finish your stream and we can eat the snacks and maybe, uh, eiga o miru?"

Itadori froze. “Movie? You... want to watch a movie with me?"

“Seems like the only thing to do this late at night," She chuckles, "Everything but the convenience store is closed this late."

"Hell yeah, I’d love to!”

(Y/n) laughs, “Mkay, lemme know when you’re done.”

(Y/n) leaves his room with the bag of her sweets and closes the door. Yuuji sits back down in his chair with a wide smile on his face as he starts playing his game again. He was so focused on finishing it for his stream and going to watch the movie that he wasn’t reading the chat’s confused and riled comments. He finally looked over at them and laughed, pausing the game:

- ITADORI IF U DON'T END THE STREAM

- GO BRO

- END STREAM

- STREAM TMR TF

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

(a/n): unfortunately not sponsored by strawberry pocky cuz 🤤🤤

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9

WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death

Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.

It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.

He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.

Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.

And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.

Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.

It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.

He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.

A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.

Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!

Danny laughed and tapped the message.

Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏

The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.

Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?

Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.

Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.

Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?

Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤

Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.

Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.

Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.

Quick Boy: 😒

Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.

Quick Boy: I hate you.

Danny: No you don't~

(Danny sung along as he typed.)

Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”

Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!

Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.

It was work.

Emergency alert.

All hands on deck.

Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.

So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.

Whatever this was, it was big.

-

“Danny.”

Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.

“Danny, babe.”

He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.

Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.

He needed more gloves.

“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”

He needed more gloves, there were so many people.

“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”

Not everyone.

How many people died under his hands today?

Were already dead when he found them?

Wouldn’t last the night?

How many people did he fail?

Too many.

“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”

Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.

“Babe, please.”

Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.

Oh. “Flash?”

“Hey there, babe, you with me?”

Why did he look so worried?

“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”

Oh.

“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”

“No… used them all. Had to cover…”

How many people did he fail?

“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”

Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”

“I’ve already checked you out.”

“My team?”

Flash glanced down and away.

“Flash, my team?”

“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”

Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.

Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”

The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.

-----

AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)

Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P8

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

Everyone was panicking. Alex was out of his car pacing back and forth in the Audi garage as Lily tried to calm him down. They refused to show the reply or any current footage of what was going on. But Lily had seen it live and even she was struggling to not cry herself.

Lando was sat with his head in his hands, crying over the reason for such a bad crash. He wouldn't forgive himself, no matter how bad the crash had been, even if you just came out with a small scrape. You were on track to winning the race as well. Not that that really mattered as your unconscious self was being hauled out of the burning car that had started to catch alight when the fuel tank burst and leaked.

One courageous marshal managed to pull you out, as they were pulling you out they weren't thinking about any broken bones they just wanted to get you out the car.

They laid you down on the floor, not taking your helmet of but flipping the visor up to see if you were awake, which of course you weren't.

They held your wrist looking for a heartbeat screaming for a medic to come over and help you. In record speed time, emergency services had managed to get a helicopter to airlift you to the best hospital in Belgium.

When the drivers saw the helicopter fly off, they could tell it was a bad crash, not that they couldn't tell before but the fact you needed to be airlifted had them worrying.

Lando was near close to being sick, Oscar at his side rubbing his back as he dry-heaved into a bin.

"Oh my god, I've killed my best friend" he cried and Oscar right now had no idea what to actually say to him.

"No you haven't, she's going to be okay!" Oscar says rubbing his crying friends back.

Charles was num, he didn't know what to think and he actually couldn't talk to Carlos. Was this his fault... no it was the rain, and your team, and your radio, and your car, and Lando's fault and he was so terribly angry when he thought about it fully.

Joris had talked him out of the abyss that was Charles mind and the whirlpool of thoughts he was flowing down. He told him off when Charles started to angrily play the blame game, explaining it wasnt anyone's fault and that you knew the risks of racing.

The race wasn't continued, with only two laps to go. Lando won, Lewis in P2 and Charles in P3, that should have been your first race win and it was a dull celebration hearing your shared national anthem with Lando when it was supposed to be you up there.

He didn't do his usual champagne pop, none of them actually even popped the champagne just handing it off to their teams to enjoy who just passed it back as no one was really in the mood to drink.

Interviews were even more dull.

"Hello Charles, pleasure to have you here!" the interviewer smiles, trying their best to lighten the mood but you'd become such a presence around the paddock over the last few races that it was strange not having you around.

Charles just nods and she awkwardly looks down at her note pad.

"So obviously not a great race with the end there, but you had a spectacular race despite the rain and that long pitstop. Can you comment more on that?"

"Yeah, I think not only the drivers find working in those conditions tense and they want then best for you. Obviously the long pitstop had me loosing a few positions but like normal you just push harder and gain those places back, P3 was better than we hoped for and I shouldn't have been up on that podium today" he nods and his interview is wrapped up insanely quickly.

"Any last comments on Y/N, any insight on her condition and how she's doing?" she asks tentatively.

"No, sorry I don't!" he says with a grit in his teeth before his PR manager takes his arm and guides him away with a final nod to the interviewer saying this was over.

Lando and Alex couldn't even do any of their media duties, too upset by what happen to you that they went straight back to the hotel. Alex and Lily actually travelled to the hospital where you were at now with your family and personal trainer to see if they could find anything more out.

They arrived at the hospital in record time considering the one and a half hour drive it took to get from the race track to Brussels where you were being treated.

"Hi, we're looking for Y/N Y/L/N?" Lily asks knowing Alex had been a little choked up the whole time and could barley get his words out.

"Ah, yes are you immediate family?" she asks looking over the two of the with an eyebrow raised.

"No, but I'm her team-mate she's a race car driver and she" Alex blurts out only for the woman to interrupt him.

"Got into an accident at the race, I'm aware. Her family are on the 2nd floor outside a private suite near the trauma unit. You can go talk to them but there's no visitors in her room right now!" she exclaims and they both nod, running towards the lift to make their way up.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Alex choked out looking to Lily. He didn't know what to do if they came up and she wasn't okay.

"She's a strong girl, the halo did an amazing job protecting her. She'll be okay, I'm sure of it!" Lily say pulling her boyfriend in for a cuddle which he accepted nuzzling into her comforting smell.

The lift dinged and they stepped out, immediately stepped out seeing various doctors and nurses rushing around, even though it seemed like calm and organized rush.

They spot a group of people and your personal trainer, which Alex deducts easily that its your family. Both him and Lily tentatively walk over seeing your mother crying her eyes out into your father and your whole family looked the farthest thing from okay.

"Erm, hey" Alex smiles towards your personal trainer who also looks worried rubbing the back of his neck. Both your parents snap their head towards Alex, your mother immediately sobbing harder pulling him into a kind and gentle hug.

"Oh she loved driving with you so much, Alex right? She talked about you and how welcomed you made her feel!" she cries and Alex feels sickness building in his stomach and throat.

Your mother was using the past tense as if you were already dead and he didn't dare ask the question. He just continued holding your mum as she continued to cry.

Your father, who was trying hard to hold back his tears but ultimately was failing gave Alex a kind smile before reaching for his wife to pull her back.

"H-how is she?" Lily gulps, knowing Alex didn't have it in him to ask.

"Sh-she died on the way here apparently and she'd flatlined again once she was here. But she's in emergency surgery and their doing everything for her" her dad says and sighs not really knowing what else to do.

They all sit and wait, waiting for any news on your condition.

It felt like hours before a nurse and doctor cam trotting over to all of them.

"Family of Y/N Y/L/N?" she asks and looks around at each of them and your mum stands up grabbing your dads hand.

"Yes that's us, we are her parents" she says pointing between the two of them.

"Can we talk to you privately please?" she asks noticing the big group that included children.

"Alex, darling you should come with us so you can update her friends" your mum reaches out for him and he nods following the doctor into a private consultation room.

"So, is my daughter going to be okay?" your mum asks the pending question.

"We did everything we could, and she's a very strong girl considering her injuries. She'll be okay but she wont be racing for at least 3 months, might be the whole season depending on how much she pushes herself in physio therapy when she's up and moving" he smiles and your dad starts to fully sob hearing his little girl was going to be okay.

"What happened to her. Why did she flat line?" your mother asks.

"Her injuries were extensive. She fractured her spine, broke 3 ribs which caused her left lung collapsed which deprived her of oxygen. Which didn't help the minor head and neck injuries she suffered, and of course the fuel leak caused burns on her arms and legs" he listed of her extensive injuries that seemed to be non-stop.

"Holy shit" Alex admitted and took a seat.

"You can see her now, she's still under anesthetic and it wont ware off for a few hours but you can see her" he smiles and lets your family all hug before running out to the rest to tell them you were in fact okay.

Alex explained to Lily everything that happened and she also felt relieved. He asked if she was able to send a message to the Whatsapp chat while he got a drink of water to try and calm his heart rate down.

He ended up talking them through your condition and the fact that only your immediate family were allowed in right now but he and Lily could go in after and that your parents had expressed that they were all more than welcome to come see you.

All of them agreed that they would of course come and see you tomorrow. Your family and Alex all tweeted about how you were doing and that they would ask you to make a video or statement when you were awake and with the world.

Everyone was just glad that you were alive... and were starting to plan their trip to come see you.

A/N: Y/N going to be out of racing until after the summer break? Oh no! ... what will she do!

Also my google search history is wild after this chapter where i had to look up the healing time for all her injuries....

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[aingeal98]

Idk if you wrote about it in the past, but thoughts about a potential Stephcass wedding? How it would play out, what they wear etc. With those women it could be interesting lol

I'd like to see you tackle that in a story if you wanted to, considering you write fanfiction and did a really good job imo with this ship.

OK so I actually have a detailed idea in my head of how stephcass plays out in the future that starts with them getting together, breaking up because Cass grows even more intense in her commitment to the mission once she becomes Batman, and then a year or two later Cass showing up in Steph's apartment with a kid being like hey I rescued this kid from being forced to be a child assassin but his parents are dead and idk what to do pls help.

And Steph is like we haven't talked in five months are you fucking kidding me. But she's not a monster and Cass looks way over her head so the two of them start kind of coparenting this kid because Cass understands the assassin aspect but she has no idea what school supplies a 10 year old might need. And then one thing leads to another and it turns out Cass may actually be worse at this adoption addiction than Bruce is because despite her firm belief that she is not capable of being a good mother she is also unwilling to Not help any child assassin she meets. And often that includes adoption because there is no other family uniquely capable of understanding the trauma these kids are going through.

(Cass meets an alarming amount of child assassins. She doesn't adopt ALL of them because they don't all need that specific type of help. Steph is still mildly concerned and not just because her apartment is getting way too full even though all the kids technically live at the manor and Steph is just a family friend.)

So in my mind they do everything backwards. They're exes then they're coparents then they're kind of rekindling things and then five years after Cass adopts the first kid she's like hey do you want to have a baby together because I didn't think I'd be a good mom but I actually really love helping these kids and I really like doing this with you and I think I'm actually ready to be both Batman and the mother of a baby. I get why Bruce was scared but I'm built different so I simply won't die and this kid will grow up happy and loved and I'll teach it everything I know and you can teach it important life stuff like what the settings on the washing machine actually mean and why certain clothes need dry cleaning.

And Steph is like woah that's a lot to process but Cass babe you have to ask me on a date first. And Cass is like have we not already been dating for a few years now? And Steph is like no showing up on my doorstep with a kid who needs a good meal, a shower and medical attention is not actually a date. Neither is attending those little league games together or patrolling together. If you're going to ask me to have a baby I'm going to need a ring on this finger and you're going to have to work for it.

So they date, and then they get married, and they have a bunch more kids most of whom are adopted or fostered. By the time Cass is forty she has five kids, the oldest of whom she adopted as a 10 year old and is now 21. And she and Steph have been married for five years technically but have been coparenting for eleven.

The wedding itself would be pretty straightforward, if more extravagant than normal. Cass wears a suit and is mildly uncomfortable with having to talk about her feelings in front of an entire audience. Steph wears a dress and can't stop smiling because god she loves this woman so much even though she can be a dumbass sometimes. Especially because she can be a dumbass sometimes actually.

The whole family is there. Bruce cries. Crystal makes snide but deserved comments at him the entire time. Tim was asked by both women to be their best man and almost spiraled into another self destructive slump from trying to process all the emotions he felt about that. In the end Cass takes Babs with Bruce walking her up the aisle and Steph takes Tim, who still looks mildly terrified throughout the entire ceremony, like one wrong move from him is going to bring the entire building down on top of them.

Two of Cass's enemies do show up to try and ruin the wedding but unfortunately for them they end up making it so much better instead because Cass gets to kiss her wife AND punch some bad guys in the face all in the same event. She's having the time of her life. What the hell was Bruce so afraid of this marriage thing is EASY.

(It's not easy. Cass is able to balance the mission and her family better than Bruce but that doesn't mean problems don't exist. The kids are used to at least one fight every six months where Steph basically yells at Cass for all the ways she's been letting Batman responsibilities come between them and Cass is like psh I don't know what you're talking about and then gets her act together because she does in fact know what Steph is talking about. She takes Steph to Themyscira on a vacation as an apology. She doesn't repeat her mistakes but she does make new ones because it turns out there are infinite ways you can mess up when raising kids especially when your work is being Batman and you're never going to stop. Steph messes up too although her mistakes are less to do with work life balance and more to do with hurtful comments made during arguments that she regrets. It's never anything bad enough to break them up again, and for the most part they're shockingly the most healthy and well adjusted pairing of the family. Damian takes great joy in reminding Tim of this fact.)

I've basically just written an abridged version of a very long fanfic idea that exists in my head haha but thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to ramble about this!

[nico-di-genova]

Strollonso College AU Snippet

A/N: please see the vision 🙏 (this may be nothing, idk, it plays a tiny role into the larger plot, but barely)

This was also written on my notes app in a flurry at 1 a.m., please excuse any typos.

“This ‘college experience’ enough for you?” Lance asks, wincing when Fernando presses the cheap bar napkin to his nose harder, trying to staunch the still steady flow of blood. Lance can taste bitter copper coating his tongue when he gathers it and spits onto the gravel.

They’re standing in the washed orange glow of a street lamp, Lance leaning against the drivers side door of Fernando’s Aston Martin that looks out of place amidst the cracked pavement of the parking lot. Fernando looks out of place, half unbuttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows doing little to distract from the slacks and dress shoes he’s still wearing. In the crowd of undergrads wearing jeans and t-shirts, sneakers splattered with liquor, he’d stood out - even more so when he was stood next to Lance with his backwards cap and fraternity shirt clearly marking his age.

Fernando doesn’t answer him, instead just grabs Lance’s chin with calloused fingers and pulls his head down.

“Don’t tilt your head back,” he demands, pinching the bridge of Lance’s nose with the same force he’d pulled Lance out of the bar with.

Lance hadn’t meant to throw the first punch. But he feels he can hardly be blamed. Sure, Brenton had been drunk, it still didn’t excuse the way he’d jabbed at Lance and joked about his sex life.

“That the old man you fucking?” He’d asked, pointing back at Fernando with a grin, like he and Lance were friends. In truth, Brenton was his least favorite fraternity brother, a feeling that had only grown as Brenton kept pushing.

“He’s a fucking asshole anyway,” Lance grumbles, like that somehow excuses the black eye Brenton will most likely be sporting at the next chapter meeting. He can taste bits of bloody napkin on his tongue when he speaks, the poor quality of the thing causing it to shred under the amount of blood Fernando is forcing it to soak up.

“This will be reported, no? You will get in trouble for this?”

He might, but he doubts Brenton wants to pursue it. To explain his black eye he would also have to explain why he was drinking underage, so voraciously that his breath had smelled of nothing but vodka and vomit when he threw an arm around Lance at the bar and leaned fully on him for support. Both of them would be suspended then, or fined, which wouldn’t do for Brenton who was running for a leadership role. More likely, Brenton would wake up tomorrow with a sore face and no recollection of what had happened in the first place.

He shrugs, “Maybe.”

“It was not worth it.”

“Neither was coming here, I told you we should have just stayed home.”

Lance likes partying, is normally the first to suggest going to the club with Pato and Esteban. He likes partying with Fernando even more, when they go to some upscale place in the city and Fernando buys bottles and a private lounge. He likes it when it means grinding on Fernando in the privacy of their own secluded space, borderline fucking in the shadows. The rundown college bar is a far cry from that, and Fernando’s Aston looking comedically out of place amidst the sea of Jeeps and Camaros should have been the first indication.

“You should be here, Lance. Not hiding at my place.”

His place. Right.

He pulls back, as far back as he can with his back pressed to the car and Fernando keeping him against it, enough that Fernando’s grip on his chin slips.

“I wasn’t hiding. I like your place, I like being there.”

“Lance-.”

“If you’re sick of having me there you can just say that Nando. We don’t have to play this game of you caring about my college experience.”

Fernando grabs him again, presses a fresh napkin to his nose, rolls his eyes.

“You are still looking for a fight.”

Lance starts to argue, before he realizes his fists are clenched at his side, his jaw tense like he’s bracing for another punch. But Fernando would never stoop that low, no matter how much Lance pressed. Instead, he soothes the tension from Lance’s jaw with the pad of his thumb, and stares at him with a look that demands he take a breath.

Lance does, in through his mouth, out through his mouth, tasting beer and regret.

“I hate this place,” he grumbles. Despite the fact that it’s the hot spot for college aged kids looking to unwind. Kids he should have related too, but instead had found very quickly weren’t like him at all. Pato liked it here, being social and charismatic, the bar had quickly made a space for him. Lance on the other hand was too tall, stood out too much, was too queer for a space that prided itself on a true southern welcome. They’d accepted him enough when he wore Greek letters and flirted with girls from his major, but drew the line at Fernando taking up a barstool. Lance had felt that, seen it from the moment they’d entered, been on edge in a way that made him impulsive.

Fernando nods, “So we don’t come here next time. You choose the next one.”

“Somewhere with better liquor,” he jokes, grimacing when he shifts to stand taller and his shoes, sneakers Fernando had bought him only a few weeks ago, stick slightly to the pavement. “Where it doesn’t all end up on the floor.”

They stay there until Fernando staunches the blood. Lance spits one last glob of it out, watches it land next to an empty beer can and then kicks the can across the pavement for good measure. It skitters to a stop against the wheel of a suped up Honda, dented and scratched from other student’s poor parking.

Climbing back into Fernando’s Aston fills him with satisfaction.

—————————

“This better?” Fernando asks later, when he’s got Lance naked and spread across his mattress. Silk sheets cool against Lance’s warmed skin.

He wants to nod, say something to agree, but the wine that Fernando is pouring into the hollow of his throat prevents him from doing so. It’s red, threatens to stain the sheets if it spills.

Fernando, straddling his hips, leans down just enough to suck the wine from his skin, licks at Lance’s throat until it’s gone. He keeps one finger hooked around Lance’s chain, keeping the Star of David pendant out of the way. The wine is expensive, pulled from Fernando’s own collection, opened solely because Lance had asked upon their arrival home.

It’s better than whatever bottom shelf liquor Rusty’s would have been able to scrub up, better than the jungle juice he’s used to chugging from trash cans at frat parties. Lance jots this moment down as another reason his college experience can go fuck itself.

And then he opens his mouth to let Fernando fountain some of the wine into it. Straight from the bottle, some of it escaping, trailing down his chin and then dripping onto the pillow case Fernando has so carefully propped him against.

Fernando hardly bats an eye at the stain, just licks the sticky trail from Lance’s neck up to the corner of his mouth.

“Much better,” Lance breathes, closing his eyes, letting Fernando kiss him and tasting the lingering wine on his tongue.

[outsideratheart]

My Heart Will Leave You Never (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: I know it’s been a while but I’m back and hopefully I won’t be away for this long again.

Set in the same universe as and could be a part 3 to Welcome to Coloney & Finalissima.

When you signed for Arsenal you planned on staying for many years. You wanted to see the club succeed and only wished to be apart of that success. Your first season didn’t exactly go as planned, the two people who you worked hours with on the pitch resulting in an almost unbeatable trio had tore their ACLs within weeks of each other then your girlfriend joined Beth and Viv on the sidelines. Her injury broke your heart but she kept saying that everything will be ok, that she will be back playing with you next season and when this was said it filled you hope and gave you something to look forward to. Little did you know that your time with Arsenal would only span 39 games.

It was sudden and you had to make a decision quickly. You had to let Arsenal know sooner rather than later given that it was only days until the last game of the season. Jonas was first who upon hearing you reasoning understood. In order to have the meeting without any interruptions or suspicions you asked your manager to meet you a couple of hours before training was due to start. It was wishful thinking that you would be able to carry on your day as normal because just as you left his office you bumped into your best friend and girlfriend.

Rafa could tell by your face the conversation that must have taken place but she also saw your girlfriend’s face which let her know you are yet to tell her. You only have to look at Rafaelle and you break, the realisation of what this means coming crashing down on you. 

“Y/N” Leah has never seen you like this “Babe, is everything ok?”

You couldn’t tell her. She had been the best thing to happen to you in a long while and you leaving would mean the end of that happiness. 

“Rafaelle não posso” 

In all the months you had been in England, Leah could count on one hand the amount of times you called your best friend by her full first name but even then none of them sounded this broken. She tried so hard to understand your Portuguese but your words were barely louder than a whisper, she didn’t stand a chance but maybe that was your subconscious’ plan. 

“Vem cá” Rafa pulled you into her arms and into the closest room.

“Rafa, what’s going on?” Leah was beyond confused and although she knew the bond you had with your fellow Brazilian ran deep she hated that you chose to find comfort in her arms instead of her own.

“Agora não” Rafa replies but doesn’t make any effort to face the blonde.

Leah wasn’t sure what just happened, she had so many questions. Why were you at Coloney so early? What happened in Jonas’ office? Why were you crying? And why couldn’t you look her in the eyes? She didn’t see you nor Rafa until seconds before training started and by then you looked back to your regular self, the rest of the team were none the wiser as to what happened but Leah couldn’t forget it. She watched you train still in awe of the way you danced on the pitch. A couple of times she saw you stop and look around watching the team with a saddened look on your face, it lasted just long enough that she saw but no one else did.

You meanwhile couldn’t be present and in the moment no matter how hard you tried. Your head was all over the place and when you noticed Leah watching on the sidelines with Beth and Viv it only seemed to make things worse because she knew something was wrong. Rafa keeps trying to reassure that everything is ok but her speaking Portuguese gets you both in trouble due to the English speaking only during training rule.

When Jonas calls for a drinks break you stay on the pitch due your girlfriend standing next to the drinks cooler and you wasn’t ready to face her yet, Leah on the other hand didn’t give you much of an option as she brings the bottle of water to you.

“Y/N is everyth—“

“Shouldn’t you be using your crutches” if you had been paying attention you would have noticed her walking without them this morning.

“I don’t need them anymore” Leah was proud of her progress so far consider how long her friends had to use their crutches “Something I do need is to know what is going on, talk to me” It was all but a beg.

How was you suppose to tell you girlfriend that you were leaving her because you had to return to Brazil. You had made plans for the off season and now you wouldn’t be doing them. Deep down you knew she would understand but you also new that your departure would hurt her and that you couldn’t stand. You were suppose to her protector not the cause of her pain.

“Não posso” you repeated the same sentence from early but still Leah is at a loss.

“Y/N I don’t know that means” Leah looks around to find the team still over of the sidelines before reaching for your hand.

“I can’t” much to your girlfriend surprise to Leah surprise you break your no PDA in the workplace rule and place a kiss to the back of her hand.

“What if I come over to your place tonight. Will you tell me what is going on then?” Leah knew that your house was your safe place and you would feel most comfortable there.

She was proving in this moment just how much she knew you and you don’t if it’s because you were ready to tell her or you just wanted her to drop the subject but you agree to her coming to your house. 

A few hours later you are pacing up and down your kitchen waiting for her to arrive. Rafa who is sitting comfortable at the island would laugh at your nervousness under any other circumstances. She had told you several times that Leah would understand but her words fell on deaf ears. Since finding out your father was ill you had been in a constant state of stress and worry. Last night you wandered into Rafa’s bedroom at a time way too early to be up and told her that you were simply going to leave and asked your best friend to tell your girlfriend that you had to move back to Brazil. That suggestion was shot down straight away and you were ushered out her bedroom with a pillow been thrown at your face.

When the door bell sounds you are frozen in place, Rafa goes to answer it agreeing to give you two some space, seconds later Leah enters the room and the speech that you spent the past two hours trying to perfect is completely forgotten. She stands less than half a meter away from you, a smile smile appears on her face when your eyes meet but she doesn’t say anything.

Your eyes must convey your pain because Leah wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you as close to her as possible.

“Whatever is going on, everything will be ok” She speaks into your chest.

“I’m leaving” maybe you should have explained further but this is all you can manage to say.

Leah grabs your hand and pulls you towards the sofa. What you just said didn’t make sense but she knew that you must have a reason.

“Is it because of this season? I know we haven’t been as successful as we hoped but we won the Conti cup and qualified for the champions league which given our injuries I think is a great achievement”

“Leah it has nothing to do with the club” 

Leah was right, the season didn’t end the way you had hoped when you first signed for Arsenal but there seemed to be some kind of curse struck upon the team because they got injury after injury. 

“Is it me? I thought—“

“Leah you’re perfect and I love you so much which is why this is so difficult” you pull her close, to the point where she is practically laid on top of you. The last thing you wanted was Leah doubting the love you had for her. 

Her hand lays on top of your heart and you wonder if she knows that even though you’re leaving a part you will stay here in London with her because your heart belongs to her and only her. Within seconds your breaths align and for the first time in days you feel calm.

“My father’s sick” 

Your girlfriend looks up at you and you give her a half hearted smile but even you can tell it doesn’t reach your eyes and this is proved when a stray tear falls down your cheek, one which Leah is quick to wipe away.  

“He has been sick for a while but he didn’t want me to know. He saw how happy I am here and knew as soon as I knew that I would go home”

“He knows you well”

You spend the night telling Leah stories of you and your father where she learns that he is the person that got you into football in the first place. He would tell you stories about Pele and how if you worked hard enough you could be just like him. The moment you told her you were leaving she had one question but she feared the answer. As she laid in your arms she didn’t want to leave. You may have only been dating for a few months but when you held her close she felt saver and her mind was calmer. Leah didn’t want to think about the possibility that this won’t be able to happen for god knows how long.

“I leave in ten days” You knew she wanted to know, how could she not.

“Ten days?” 

It left you a week to spend with Leah and your friends, whether that be in England or a trip away. After that you would have to return to Rio and face reality.

“I am deeply in love with you Leah. When I signed for Arsenal I expected so many things but you blindsided me from that very first day at Coloney. My love for you won’t fade no matter the distance between us but I don’t want to stop you from being happy. 

“Y/N, what are you saying?” Leah failed to understand what you were leading to, either that or her heart didn’t want to believe it.

“I’m giving you an out”

“Well I don’t want one” Leah stood up abruptly.

“Leah”

You stand up so that you are at her level. As you reach for her hand she takes a step back making it clear she doesn’t want to be touched.

“No, I don’t want to break up and you don’t either, you think this is the right thing to do but it isn’t. This break up will hurt me 10 times more than the distance will”

“You’re right I don’t want to do this but you have to be realistic. I will be 5,343 miles, 11 hours away” you had done the flight from London to Brazil a few times now and although the distance was obvious, knowing that this wasn’t going to be a ten day trip made it feel twice as long “and then there’s the time difference”

“Y/N the time difference is 4 hours and we have survived you going back to Brazil before”

“You’re not going to change your mind no matter how many reasons I tell you”

Leah, who stands there with a smirk on her face, simply shakes her head.

The following day you tell the team and staff that you are leaving, they all understand and send your dad well wishes. What you don’t expect is for rumours of your departure to be all over social media by the end of the day. You wanted to play you last game as if nothing was changing, this is something that Leah disagreed with when you told her. She thought that you needed a proper send off. You were the top goal scorer of the season and the impact you had on the team both on and off the pitch made you a fan favourite. This is something Leah wanted to celebrate. 

In the end you and Arsenal release a statement confirming that the rumours are true but the reason for you leaving isn’t confirmed. You do promise that you’ll be back at the emirates soon and that was true. Every time you had a break in schedule you would be coming back to London to see your girl.

Days passed by much quicker than you wanted to and soon enough it was the final game of the season, the last time you would be wearing an Arsenal shirt. You would be lying if you were to say that your departure wasn’t on your mind as you played and when return to the locker room at half time 2-0 down you know that you are letting your thoughts get the best of you.

You are first out of the locker room and when you return the pitch at Meadow park Leah calls you over from the stands. At first you shake your head, you know you are disappointing her and hearing her confirm this won’t do any help.

“Rafa!” Leah shouts, pointing to you and signals the two of you to come over.

Rafa clearly doesn’t pick up on your body language because she grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the blonde. Great you think.

“Forget about the last 45 minutes” you try to interrupt her but she’s having not of it “No, forget it. You want your last game here to be a loss and for you not to score?” You shake your head “I didn’t think so. Both of you go out there and have fun, show the gooners that Brazilian flair we are all jealous of” 

Leah’s pep talk works because within the first few minutes you find the back of the net courtesy of Rafa’s assist but the job wasn’t done and you wasn’t going to settle on a draw. You drop back a little and assist Gio for her first Arsenal goal. That was two Brazilians on the scoreboard now only one more was left and it comes in injury time, your corner finds Rafa’s head perfectly. You couldn’t think of a better way to end your stay at Arsenal, well you would much rather Leah be on the pitch with you but fate had been cruel to her.

When the match finishes you try your best to take everything in. You almost separate yourself from the team as you slowly do a lap around the pitch making sure to meet every fan you can and thank them for their support. Everyone seems to pick up on your need for space because even as you stand in the centre crouched down nobody comes towards although a certain blonde is watching from a distance.

“What are you doing?” Rafa asks Leah.

“I think she’s having a moment. I thought you might want to go and check on her” 

“You don’t want to?” 

“I’m giving her some time, she’ll come to me” In that moment Leah remembers Rafa’s words at Wembley.

“Things have changed Leah. Go to her”

Leah wonders is Rafa knows what her words mean. Only a few months ago you preferred to be alone when you were overwhelmed. Now the girl that arguably knows you best is saying that you find more comfort in Leah’s company.

“Minha Linda” 

Her voice makes you jump but you cover it well. Leah stands behind you and wraps her arms around you shoulders, clasping her hands over your heart.

“Hey! That’s my line” you turn your head slightly and place a kiss just below her ear. At first Leah is caught off guard but she sees no harm in returning the kiss only hers comes in a form of a peck  on the lips hoping to get your shy side but that doesn’t happen because you find yourself deepening the kiss clearly not having a care in the world about the cheering fans around you.

“I think it suits you and I need to give you a pet name before you go”

Leah knows she shouldn’t have mentioned it when she sees your face drop.

“Let’s just enjoy this moment and I do have a pet name” your brows furrow, you hadn’t heard this term before so you wasn’t sure it you were using it correctly but Leah’s nods her head leading to you continuing what you were saying “you call me babe”

“That’s boring”

“I like the way you say it”

“What if I want to call you something in Brazilian?” Leah asks.

You think for a second. There are plenty of terms of endearment but you wanted something personal, then the perfect one comes to you.

“Minha amada. It’s what my dad calls my mum” it was personal and something you always heard growing up.

“Minha amada” Leah tries her best to get the pronunciation right but her strong accent makes it almost impossible, still it was incredible cute.

“Perfect” it is then you notice that Leah has changed her shirt, her black Arsenal t-shirt has been replaced with the new home shirt “This looks good”

“You like?” Leah does her best at a twirl around whilst being careful not to twist her knee. When she stumbles you are there to steady her “I thought as your biggest fan I should have your shirt”

“Yet you wanted Rafa’s Brazil shirt. Are you sure you aren’t her biggest fan?” 

Your comment earns you a shove. Ever since that Finalissima at Wembley you bring up the shirt swap at least once a week and if Leah is feeling brave enough she replies with a comment about which team won.

You both walk at Leah’s pace as you do a second lap of the pitch. You didn’t want to leave Meadow park, if you try hard enough you can pretend that nothing is changing. The club presents you with flowers and a shirt signed by the whole team and staff as a leaving gift. You couldn’t believe the family you had gained in less than a year and you knew that the closeness you had with every player would make the move that much harder but it was for the right reasons and you didn’t know what the future held, if the circumstances were right you would return to this club in a heartbeat. You still had a lot you wanted to to achieve with Arsenal and you owed the fans a trophy or two.

Returning to Brazil was different than before. Something didn’t feel right. At first you thought it was the travel then you thought it was the toll of the season but it isn’t till one night when you’re FaceTiming Leah do you realise what is it. You always believed when you loved someone unconditionally you would give them a piece of you heart, it’s why you feel at home when you are with her and why you feel like you are missing a part of your heart when you are apart from her. 

[anim-ttrpgs]

Some History of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

Brandon and I have played a lot of TTRPGs, from nearly every edition of Dungeons & Dragons to half-finished playtests of things you’ve never heard of. Our history with TTRPGs is a love story, but one pockmarked with frustration. We found ourselves enjoying D&D 3.5’s vast character creation options, but wishing it focused more on  grounded characters and historically informed combat; being drawn in by Call of Cthulhu’s horror and existential dread, but disappointed in its investigation mechanics for actually getting the investigators to those moments of horrifying revelation; being intrigued by Monster of the Week’s juxtaposition of both normal and supernatural PCs (for horror and/or comedy), but finding its lack of character options and reliance on genre tropes a hindrance; being unable to find anything that would be good for a S.T.A.L.K.E.R. inspired TTRPG campaign. We eventually found the OSR movement and AD&D1e and 2e to be far closer to what we wanted on the medieval fantasy front, but we still had nothing on the modern horror or urban fantasy front, and Shadowrun is… Shadowrun.

So, with around 20 years of TTRPG experience between us, we set out to make the game we wanted a reality.

The story of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy’s creation really starts in late 2021, when Brandon asked me to help playtest a very early rough draft of an investigative horror game he thought up. Living isolated, impoverished, and unable to find work in England at the time, I readily agreed. Noticing that the game didn’t have a combat system and desperate to set my mind to something constructive in between tedious job applications, I offered to write a combat system for it. I soon had to use the last of my money to move back home to Louisiana where I eventually did find work despite a variety of health issues, and continued to work on Eureka as a system for our personal use.

As 2023 drew near, it became clear that my current job wasn’t going to be a permanent career, and I needed a fall back plan. Work towards making Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy a professional release began in earnest, with Brandon and I founding A.N.I.M. a few months later. It was initially set to go to Kickstarter in April of 2023, then May, then June, but each time we realized it just wasn’t ready. No one had ever heard of us, and we wanted to break into an industry and customer base increasingly financially hostile to any TTRPG that wasn’t D&D5e compatible. We needed to build an audience, and build a greater appreciation for independent and small-budget TTRPGs within the community at large.

Thanks to some assistance from one of the team members from Tuesday Knight Games (makers of Motherhship), the first beta copies went public in September of 2023 to a splash of instant (relative) success, and the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club was founded on Discord two months later, a community dedicated to buying, playing, and analyzing less well-known TTRPGs - which includes almost everything except Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition.

Ash became friends with us through the book club, and after offering an increasing amount of assistance, joined the team proper in January of 2024, adding much needed copy-editing skills as well as another 15 years cumulative TTRPG experience.

The Kickstarter campaign for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy launched on April 10th, 2024, was fully funded within 3 hours, and by the end of the campaign had reached a total of $15,455, 486% of the goal. That is where we are at now, working every day to put the finishing touches on the game and complete the stretch goals to the best of our ability before our tentative deadline of January 2025.

This is a far more ambitious project than a super-small team like ours should have attempted for our debut game, but with a mix of talent, luck, skill, and a whole lot of help, we have somehow managed to pull it off. We think the resulting game is a deep, robust, professional-quality TTRPG that provides a one-stop shop and extensive toolbox for any investigative or mystery game you’d like to run. A dark and moody noir, a classical British whodunnit, the lighthearted sleuthing hijinks of Scooby-Doo, Eureka does it all.  (You can also get the latest PDF for FREE for a limited time by joining the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club!)

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

[maxsimagination]

𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗜 - 𝗹.𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗽

summary: coming out to someone is always diffcicult, but lauren makes it easier.

• part 1 • part 2

-> i do not condone homophobia in any way, shape or form, this is just an imagine and is not reality.

𖦹 masterlist

"𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗠𝗔, 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗔𝗥𝗘 you?"

it was my weekly call to family that were back in australia.

"honey, i'm good, how are you? how's england?"

i had lived in australia for most of my life before moving across the globe to england to play professional football. i was only 19 when i got picked up by manchester city, the sky blues offering me a 3-year contract that i couldn't turn down. now, four years later, i was still here, still wearing the same sky blue jersey with pride.

"england's good. we've got another game on this week, a home game this time."

my family weren't always super supportive of my choice to be a footballer, but never said anything outright. i still knew of the disapproval, but that didn't stop me from playing.

"that's good, honey. found any guys that you like?"

my ma brushed off the football talk and quickly moved to her favourite topic. she was openly christian, as well as my pa, but she always had something to say.

"no ma, no boys. i've said this."

it was a lost cause from there because my ma was unrelenting in her lecture on how a woman belonged with a man, so on and so forth. i made up an excuse of how i had to go to practice or something just to get out of the call.

i couldn't even count on my fingers the amount of times i've been told that homosexuality is a sin, that's how much she's told me.

——

practice next day was nothing new, gareth had us running the normal drills with some one-touch shooting to finish it off before a break. all the girls were in the shade with the water coolers just chatting when i sidled up. lauren crept up behind me and squirted water on my head to surprise me. i shrieked and turned around to get her back.

we were basically best friends, being attached at the hip all the time and both being starting strikers for man city.

"loz! not cool!"

she cackled at my unimpressed expression and walked back over with a promise of no more water fights. we joined back into the conversation with the others, they were all laughing hysterically at alanna's story of a date she'd gone on with a girl and it hadn't gone to plan. each of the other girls then added in their own wayward date stories.

the little group turned to me and lauren, asking our opinions and stories. lauren was quick to tell her funny moments while i was quiet, thinking.

"what about you, yn? any weird dates?"

the tallest of our group, bunny, broke me out of my thoughts with her question. i looked up, slightly caught off guard, and everyone had turned to look at me. about 5 pairs of eyes bore into me, psyching my brain out and panic rose in my mind.

"i- no. no stories. sorry i've got to go."

the anxiety got the best of me and i turned to run back inside of the changing rooms. in the back of my mind, i knew that i was being irrational and the girls would definitely have questions about my behaviour but that wasn't my priority right now.

all i could focus on was the quickening pace of my breath and the sound of my cleats when they hit the floor. i reached the lockers and sat in my cubby, eyes closed and trying to calm myself down. i was so in my head that i didn't hear the door open or anyone enter the room.

"yn are you okay?" lauren's voice startled me and my eyes popped open.

"i'm fine."

i was apparently too quick to respond to that question when lauren cocked her eyebrow at me.

"ok so maybe i'm not fine."

i mumbled out and lauren moved to sit next to me. she didn't push me to speak, just sat with me until i was comfortable to tell her what was wrong.

"im scared.

everyone was talking about their dating stories, and i thought that i wouldn't be accepted."

most of the team were open about their sexuality and who they went out with, but i was the opposite. being brought up in an environment where the christian way was the only way, i was taught that a woman must be with a man and there was no other option.

"i thought that the girls wouldn't accept me."

"yn we will support you no matter what. i will support you no matter what."

i knew from about the age of seventeen that i was anything but heterosexual. but i struggled to accept that fact in my own mind, which made it extremely hard for me to express that to others. i never talked about the topic, preferring to avoid it altogether.

but right now, lauren sitting next to me waiting for me to really tell her what was going on, i decided fuck it, tell her.

"ithinkilikegirls."

it came out rushed and the words strung together in one sentence that hid the real meaning.

"um, slower please?"

lauren had a smile on her face, but she knew how difficult a topic this was.

"i like girls."

three words that held so much meaning. lauren didn't say anything, she just pulled me into a hug. her hands rubbed up and down my back soothingly. i embraced the hug, tears slowly pricking at my eyes and i let them fall.

"i'm so proud of you."

[punkasspricefield]

OH the shit show

Hi Hello! It's been a while since I posted anything on here, but I said hey let me go back to my roots.

You might have guessed it, I played Double Exposure and news flash I hated it.

OKay Herę they come, the spoilers

WTH did I just play, who am I and what the fuckery is that.

I went in two days ago pretty optimistic that I was going to get a mid game, I tried my best to stay away from spoilers and asked my friends and partner not to share too much with me. My initial reaction- when is Chloe going to appear. IS this decision I am making going to impact any sort of relationship with her etc..

It in fact did not matter what I did, who I talked to and the bridges I burned. The plot, the sub plot, the arc - none of that made sense.

Let's start off with how Chloe and Max's relationship crumbled into dust. You want an explanation? Well there is none.. I think. Now let me explain. We start off knowing that Chloe and Max are no longer together, the why is unknown at the beginning. We later know that they broke up thanks to the conversation with Safi. We then get a shitty post card from Chloe making some shit ass excuse ( I do not blame Chloe) I blame the writer for it being so shitty. The whole excuse of the break up never did make sense to even the amount of times I tried to justify it. lets move past- you have this decent build up to a story that has potential. Your friend is dead and you're able to jump universes, sounds normal. Midway though episode 3 is when I got lost, the writing just plummeted, the focus was on the powers and not the reasoning. Nothing mattered, not why Safi is dead, not why she was causing havoc on campus. Nothing about her was justified to fuck up so many lives. That's not even a good antagonist. The story took a hit and it was all because this was a filler game to make money, to get you invested and pull you for another vision that they have for the franchise. This hurt, I have been here since 2015 and it feels worse than when we had bae vs bay. How can you be so cruel with the characters that we love. They passed the torch to someone who doesn't know Chloe or Max. They tarnished their story as a business decision.

[hey-its-danny]

Your lbmr art is based asf please infodump any and all opinions about it if you'd like

(also are we okay to use some of your lbmr art as face claims cause we're a system w/potty and placid as a subsystem. Ofc no pressure but we thought we'd ask :] )

hey there, absolutely go use my alfendi!! it feels like an honor to know my art was able to accurately depict him for you 🙏🙏 and for thoughts on the game im just gonna write them because my artist hand isnt working today LOL

so the game was great, super cool, in retrospect i think the adage of the layton franchise actually kind of benefited this story in the long term (provided some cool parallels, hooked the player through subversion the entire way through, also i just like any mention of layton what can i say). Lucy is adorable and while a little underbaked her tailspin in case 9 and the latter half of the ending felt really freaking good to play. i’m usually a huge bastard about any storyline set in a foreign country but this game did a good job of staying sensitive enough about its portrayals of foreign characters while still maintaining the raw edges that kind of define this game for me.

alfendi’s ambiguous multiple personality disorder is best understood by reading jekyll and hyde, go do it, im making you. also read house of leaves and the picture of dorian gray NNNNEEEOOOWWWW they’re classics for a reason and parallel kind of cooly with the profs characterization. side note that kind of ties into the unpolished quality of the game, i love how weirdly crass it is. like yeah, blood and whatever, but also so many sexy women??? it feels like this game took the ‘all of these old ladies are flirting with layton’ quality of the og trilogy and turned it up 10 notches (this is a good thing i think). i loved dolly like i’ve said, dolly and lucy definitely talk after her case- i imagine theyre not friends, but they catch up sometimes over coffee or at her concerts ^_^ i imagine any stories lucy would tell get turned into songs later, which makes her kind of weary lol

and roscoe if only because of his similarities to raymond shields, but i’m also a huge sucker for the “pull a person aside and ask if they scored it with the love interest yet” trope such a normal amount…… im so glad they did it twice..!

TLDR; great game, not even trying to be layton but succeeding at being ghost trick lite. pacing is a little bogged down by the excess cases near the middle of the story, but the characters and mysteries are cool enough that i forgive it. everybody needs to play cases 6-9 now they are unironically peak. also cant believe i got harry dubois’d by the layton protagonist (im not clarifying what that means)

oh one more note, since im not expecting a sequel to explain it my opinion is that alfendi was either adopted as a teen or is layton’s actual biological son

[poetry-protest-pornography]

These two continue to ask each other the most insanely intimate things while staring into each other's eyes, and it's bonkers

But this whole episode was just... one long conversation that answered Sailom's first question here:

"Do I have any influence over you?"

Now, ignoring the fact that this is handily answered by Kang's renewed interest in studying after the "Can you do this for me?" exchange in the pool (another totally normal and not at all insane conversation).

And then we see exactly how Kang's relationship with Sailom has influenced him (and, y'know, the whole "the windmill needs the wind" candlelit conversation, holy shit).

First, right after the question, Kang has an existential crisis and thinks about how Sailom has influenced him so far (pool scene included)

(There's also the whole study montage, which is gonna have to be its own post, but we see Kang be serious and dedicated to his studies, and then playful with Sailom, and allowing himself to be vulnerable enough to fall asleep on him.)

Then, we get midterms day.

Kang is anxious, he's struggling, he's lost confidence, and is also likely still thinking about how Sailom keeping his job as his tutor is dependent on him passing. Him continuing to be able to spend time with Sailom is dependent on him passing. Babygirl is feeling the pressure.

But then, Sailom passes him the eraser, and you can see (in the scene, not these screenshots, oops) that Kang is surprised, he's not sure what to expect-- is it another tell off? is it a cheat sheet because Sailom wants to keep his job and because he doesn't think Kang can do it?-- but then, it's encouragement. It's "trust me, you can do it".

And Kang goes from panicking and stressing out to Determined Boy immediately. Because Sailom believed in him.

After Kang fails chemistry and Sailom is no longer his tutor, we continue to see how Sailom has influenced him.

He and his friends don't cut the line, they move on. Kang isn't actively playing games on class, he goes to eat and ends up staring at the place where Sailom sat last time he was at the restaurant and thinking about how much Sailom enjoyed the meal.

He signs up to work on the organizing team instead of the sports team, practically vibrating with hope that he will get to work with Sailom (Sailom is, too, look at his face in this scene! They both want to stay in each other's lives, but don't know how), and they're both devastated when they aren't paired up.

When he sees Sailom with the man at the cafe, he goes through like, half the stages of grief in three seconds as he processes Pimfah's question and then realizes what's happening.

He's so distracted by his concern that he can't stop staring.

He asks his grandmother to hire Sailom back, and it's enough for her to change her mind, and to recognize that Kang has changed.

He says this cuckoo-bananas line to his grandmother.

A month ago, he wanted to beat this boy bloody, and now he can't function without him, and he doesn't want to.

And if Sailom doesn't understand that he has an absurd amount of influence over Kang at this point, then the boy is not as smart as everyone thinks he is, because Kang is studying on a day off.

Kang, who used to swear he was studying as he booted up his game system.

And! He only steps away from studying when Sailom initiates a product placement themed twist on "playfully spray your crush with a hose"!

In a very short time, Sailom has become so important to Kang that he was just in a sad boy haze until he figured out how to get Sailom back.

I wonder if he realizes that he's become important to Sailom, too. Because Sailom was also at peak sad boy while they were separated by circumstance.

This is all obviously super unhealthy, that Kang is wrapping so much of his motivation and self worth up in Sailom and his approval and presence in his life, but like... that's why we're here, right? (Also, the dynamics that are at play here are fascinating, and if I ever get my thoughts about it in order I'm going to write a damned essay)

Anyway, I will not be normal about them until they figure out how to be normal about each other, which is going to be never, so I hope y'all are in this with me.