#I had this idea for a while now but me being me I ended up doing it last minute as always

[lostatsea-blog]

Bringing Home the Gold (Part 4)

Alexia Putellas x England Reader

Will Y/N and Alexia find their happy ending?

For a brief moment time stood still. The two of you were frozen, unable to take your eyes off each other. Alexia looked tired and was dressed in her Spain tracksuit with a cap; your heart ached at how utterly beautiful she looked even when dressed so casually. Realising that you had frozen at the top of the stairs just staring at her, you took a step forward and Alexia saw that as her cue to stand. As you took in her appearance, you were drawn to how nervous she looked. She was finding it difficult to keep eye contact, her gaze drifting down to the carpet at her feet. Your heart clenched causing your stomach to roll while your mind filled with a million different reasons why she looked so nervous – none of the reasons your mind conjured were good.  

“Why are you here?” the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them and you frowned at how harsh you sounded. You opened your mouth again, fully intending to correct the tone you had just used, but your mouth was now in control and taking absolutely no direction from you “Your supposed to be in Ibiza enjoying your holiday with Jenni” You knew it was a low blow when you saw the hurt flash across Alexia’s face. It was only there for a second before she regained her composure.  

“No one has been able to contact you for four days and this is what you say?” Alexia challenged “You told me not now and not here and then you just disappear. Did you expect me to just not care?” her voice demanded no longer trying to hide the hurt and frustration she was feeling.

“In all honesty, I didn’t think you would care! It would mean you no longer had to pretend and you could give all of your time to Jenni” You replied. You watched the words hit the Spanish captain and could see her body recoil at the implication behind them. You knew you were being unfair, Alexia had never given you any reason to believe that she would cheat but you were hurt, you were humiliated and you wanted her to feel even a fraction of what you had been feeling.  

A door slamming on the floor above reminded you that you were stood outside your flat, which was not the best place for this conversation.

“Let’s do this inside” You sigh moving past her and opening the door. You walked in and took your coat off assuming that Aleixa was following you – it took a moment to realise that she hadn’t. She remained in a state of uncertainty at the threshold “You can come in Aleixa” you sighed

“I didn’t want to assume” she whispered and you knew, in that moment, Alexia was unsure of her place; something very new to the Spanish midfielder. She did not know how to behave in this space that was only yours or how to interact with this version of you. She followed you in and you led her into the kitchen. You observed her, without being obvious, as she took in your little flat. There were different collectables on the walls and signs of your achievements over the years. You saw the briefest of smiles as her eyes landed on your framed photo from the Euros. You busied yourself making coffee for the two of you, delaying this conversation as long as possible. When you finished making the drinks, you placed hers in front of her. She smiled softly; you had made her favourite drink just the way she liked it. It gave her a renewed sense of hope, like you were thawing a little and were open to what needed to be said.

“You didn’t go to Ibiza” you stated but she understood the question

“Did you think I would go when I had no idea where you were or what was going on” she asked

“And yet, for someone who didn’t know where I was, you seem to have had no trouble finding me” You snarked and again you wanted to kick yourself and tell yourself to shut up! What the fuck was wrong with you? She had come looking for you and somehow tracked you down and you wire sniping like a petulant child

“Y/N” she sighed heavily “Please stop! I used every contact I knew to try and find out where you might be” Your heart swelled at her admission as you understood the effort she made to find you. This had never been a test. You had not done this to see if she would try and find you (you had genuinely felt so overwhelmed you didn’t know how to function) but the fact that she had made you feel like you mattered to her. The other side of your brain wouldn’t allow you the luxury of letting down your guard, reminding you that she could have tracked your down to end your relationship in person. Alexia would not end things in a message or over the phone.

“Alexia, I don’t know what you want me to say” You respond your brashness suddenly deflating

“I hate when you say my name like that” She muttered with a quiet huff

“it is your name” You retort

“Not usually with you” and she was right. It was very rare that you used her full name, preferring to use terms of endearment or just a shortened Lex.

You genuinely wanted to scream. There was no one in the world who could get you as agitated and wound up as Alexia Putellas. The painful irony being that she was also the only person who could calm you down and alleviate the pain you had been feeling the last four days. Your snark came from fear. If you could give her a reason to end the relationship, then it wouldn’t have been about Jenni; It wouldn’t have been that you were second best or just not good enough. You were about to open your mouth to ask her to just get on with it, so you could begin the process of getting over her when she muttered “I’m sorry”

You blinked rapidly trying to process those two small words. Two words that could mean anything. I’m sorry I can’t do this, I’m sorry it’s not worth it, I’m sorry you’re not who I want. She must have seen the confusion and apprehension on your face because she continued “I’m sorry for hurting you the way that I did! My actions, I did not realise at the time what they implied or how it would look to you”

“Look,” you began “I know you and Jenni have history..”

“Don’t excuse what I did” She interrupts “You do that often, allow me to behave selfishly and excuse my actions”

“Lex,” You begin and watch how she swallows at the use of her pet name “I just want you to be happy – what ever that looks like” you step forward and take hold of her hand. You had always found it hard to stay mad at Alexia and when you thought about it, it was probably why you had turned off your phone. What you felt for the blond ran so deep that all it would have taken was a conversation and you needed to be mad at her for a little while.

“My happy is you” she leaned forward and brushed her nose with yours sending shivers down your spine. From the very first night you kissed her, she had the ability to take your breath away with barely a touch. Feeling bolder, she caught your lips in a soft kiss “You are more important than any history or any team. Jenni is my past but you are my forever” her hand reached up and swiped at tears you did not even realise were falling “I would never betray you Y/N, I swear. With everything that has been happening inside the team, In my mind I was showing support and solidarity; Alba helped me realise the implications behind the actions.”

Unable to maintain the distance any longer you surged forward cashing your lips together in a desperate kiss that longed to forget the hurt of the past few days. As you broke apart, you pulled her into your arms, something you had wanted to do since the end of the final. Her arms slipped further around your middle and you felt her grip on the back of your shirt tighten as she held you in a desperate grip afraid that you would pull away.  

“I am so proud of you” you whispered the words you had longer to say before the medal ceremony; the words she had said to you as you spotted the shirt “You are a World Cup Winner and I am so immensely proud of you Lex – Your brought home gold!”

You knew that there was much more to talk about. You knew you would have to tell her about your fears and insecurities but that could wait. The situation with the Spanish National Team was complicated and while you desperately wished you could protect Alexia from all the shit, it was not your fight; it was hers. Your job was to stand by her side while she showed the world just how incredible she truly was; while she made history and while she took strides to improve the game for the girls who would come after her.  

@wosof1

[vrachis]

imagine having drunk car sex with subby robin(hsr)... fuck imagine spilling some wine over her body and licking it off HSWHSUWHUSEB i want her so abd

the halovian had deemed it as inappropriate considering you were both in a moving vehicle, the driver being in there nonetheless, so why were you here spitting such nonsense?

well to put it simply, a celebration after one of her performances had gotten you in this intoxicated state, and she was not at all surprised to see you stumbling around and mumbling dumb, sweet nothings into her ear

it was already quarter to midnight by the time the party was over, and now the two of you are stuck at the back of the limousine, and robin espies your intense gaze on her, those hazy (e/c) irises staring at her being like some sort of foreign thing. the winged woman gulps, knowing where this would end up thanks to proper understanding of your behaviour from past events

your next action confirms her thoughts ; shifting next to her and feeling your arm creep around her waist, squirming in her seat while your lips plant against the inside of one of her wings, gradually trailing from the soft bundles of feathers down to her neck. the sensation of your soft lips on her skin elicits quiet sighs, though she was supposed to be obligated to push you away, her body instinctively leans into your touch, seeking more of that irresistible warmth.

each touch sets her body on fire, rekindling that restrained desire hidden behind several weeks worth of work. her hums sound in the back of the car, unable to hide her desire, satisfied with your lecherous ministrations. when your foreplay was done, you're ridding yourself of your own clothes, as well as robin's, determined to make the most of this long travel.

both of you are naked in the backseat, your mouth latching onto her skin, addicted to her taste and scent. to spice things up, you're taking a spare bottle of wine in one of the hidden compartments, popping it open and gently spilling it all over her slicked body, groaning at the sight of the red liquor trickling all over that fair skin.

the surprise comes later, replaced with newfound sense of arousal, robin moans when your tongue laps up at the liquid glazing her body, unable to peel her eyes off the sight of you salaciously delighting in her wine coated skin. the mere idea had popped out of nowhere, but it had served properly as a way to enjoy drunkenness on a whole new level. when your head makes its' way back up to hers, your lips press against hers and the halovian can taste the sumptuous, rich wine on your tongue, humming in approval and satisfaction. robin can feel herself getting immersed in the taste, finally aware of as to why you had been consuming so many of such.

"taste so fuckin' good for me, pretty girl," you're groaning against her lips, giving her a few more pecks before pulling back, your hand reaching to ghost above her wet cunt, feeling her wetness ebb at the tip of your fingers.

a whimper escapes her lips when your digits rub all over her wetness, thighs trembling from the euphoric feeling. her quiet noises turn into slightly louder whines, clawing at your arm when two fingers sink into her warmth, creating filthy, sloshing sounds that splash onto the faux leather fabric of the car seat (you gotta clean it up after y'know).

her eyes roll back then snap shut when your pace becomes faster, much more eager to see her come undone. she can't help the filthy mess she makes, not when your fingers have her legs shaking and inner walls spasming. you moan in tandem with her, the pleasure she's experiencing fueling your own desires.

"ah, ah- 'm so close, please-" you silence her breathy moans with a kiss, chuckling when you pull away. her wings flap rapidly, moving up to cover her flushed face when your tongue traces circles all over her upper body, licking up the soaked mess of wine on her breasts.

"you gonna cum for me, my angel?" you mumble against one of her tits, earning a desperate nod from her. with that affirmation, you curl your fingers inside, hitting that sweet spot within her, cooing when her hips stutter and grind against your hand. "go on, cum for me."

the last few loud moans she lets out and the spasming of her cunt is all you need to know she's close, placing a thumb above her clit to help her come undone faster. with a suck to her nipple, she comes undone in your arms, thighs shaking uncontrollably and copious amounts of slick coat your hand. you hold her through every moment of it, pulling away from her breast to come up and place several kisses on her forehead, whispering praises. her orgasm starts to die down, her breathing evening through the slow rise and fall of her chest, and with the way her wings flap open to reveal her exhausted face.

your lips curl into a smile, then you retract your fingers from her sore hole, moaning at the amount of slick that webs at your skin. taking them in your mouth, you hum in delight, still hazed from drunkenness, the taste of the halovian serving as a remedy. "you taste so good, angel."

she's limp in your arms, still a bit shaky from her orgasm but you don't seem to mind it one bit. after all, the night is still young, and it's still a long way until you both are home.

thank aeons there had been a partition wall in this limo, or all of this wouldn't have happened. just pray that the driver hadn't heard anything, or else you're in deep trouble with another certain halovian.

[kei-crocker]

So The Twisted Pitch Pals, where exactly are they living? At first, I assumed they were staying at Vlad despite the split, but would Dark Danny feel comfortable be comfortable being that close to the former halfa? I can see Dark Danny wanting to keep continuously moving around, but Danny is always in his pajamas. How they survive?

Phantom wanted to stay in one place—to "stay" and ensure his human half was safe—while Fenton couldn't stand staying anywhere for too long. So, they kept moving from place to place.

If Fenton hadn’t resisted so much, they might have stayed at Vlad’s manor in Wisconsin. But he couldn’t stand the idea of his ghost half staying with Vlad.

Phantom could have easily gotten rid of the now-human Vlad, but Fenton would never let him.

Fenton refused to stay at Vlad’s manor because he couldn’t let Phantom be with Vlad. He also didn’t want to stay at FentonWorks, as it only reminded him of the happy days he could never return to.

When they stopped by FentonWorks, they gathered supplies they might need—well, tbh, Fenton was just hiding under his old blanket while Phantom did all the gathering.

With nowhere to settle down for long, they kept moving. Though they were together, their thoughts were completely different. Phantom had no idea how to make Fenton feel better; he assumed that seeing new places might help. Meanwhile, Fenton only wanted to stop his ghost half from doing whatever he was planning. He was terrified—afraid Phantom might hurt someone—but he had no way to stop him.

So, he secretly tried to contact Vlad. Traveling with Phantom gave him more chances to do so, which is why he never outright rejected Phantom’s plans.

As for why he’s wearing pajamas—well, it’s just for character design lol

I wanted to distinguish him from canon Danny, and pajamas seemed like a decent way to do that 🤷‍♂️

It also represents how fragile he is right now. He wouldn’t survive without Phantom’s protection, wandering around in thin pajamas—especially when they had no idea where they’d end up next.

Tbh, at this point, he probably didn’t even care what he was wearing anymore.

To make sure Fenton didn’t freeze to death overnight, Phantom kept their movements limited to warmer places. He often took him to abandoned buildings or houses in low-population areas, scaring away the residents and possessing the place.

Fenton didn’t like it, but at least Phantom hadn’t hurt anyone… yet.

Rumors might start spreading—stories of a corpse-pale boy living in an abandoned house deep in the woods.

"Maybe he’s a ghost," people would whisper. "Or something else entirely."

Thanks for leaving me an ask! Hope I can draw this later:3

[vettelsvee]

THE CALL OF LOVE | Sebastian Vettel

Primary School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is the cool, annoying, extroverted teacher, while you are the shy, introverted and perfectionist one. Seb phones you all the time because he wants to get closer with you somehow but, also, he knows that you suffer from pretty bad anxiety and wants to respect your boundaries. However, when you have to go to Seb's class and ask him for help after your classroom becomes pure chaos, he finds the perfect opportunity to become closer with you... only to find out that, definitely, you want to get closer with him as well even your anxiety says otherwise ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE TODAY!

WORD COUNT: 4798

WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, curse words. Lots of fluff (I loved this Seb btw).

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @blushmimi @herdetectivetheorist @awnmaneez

VEE'S NOTES: Third Teacher!Seb fic in a row since you asked! Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for all the love you're giving to this, really, I'm so grateful <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Although it wasn’t enough for many, you were more than happy being a teacher at one of the most well-known schools in Heppenheim, a small town in Germany. 

Now that you had achieved your dream, all you wanted was things to flow perfectly. The main problem? Your anxiety and constant need for perfection, which were the most notable things about you. On top of that, there was the strict routine that was almost impossible to deviate from. However, the real problem lay in everything related to socializing... not with your students or their parents, but with the rest of the teachers.

Sebastian Vettel, the teacher of the other 2nd grade class, had also started working there that same year. Although you initially thought your relationship would be a calm one, the reality was far from that. Seb was the complete opposite of you: a walking chaos, with more than enough confidence and a charm that made him some kind of superhero to his students.

You tried your best to keep a professional relationship with him, but it was impossible. When you wanted to do a project on biodiversity with perfectly structured activities aligned with the curriculum, Seb preferred to take them outside to let them see it for themselves. If you thought it would be a great idea for them to write a small essay about Christmas, Seb preferred to show them a movie because, in his words, “they would have time to write when they’re older.”

And if that wasn’t enough, Sebastian had the annoying habit of calling your classroom phone several times a day with ridiculous questions:

“Miss Y/L/N speaking,” you answered as calmly as you could, while still supervising your students coloring.

“Y/N!” Sebastian shouted from the other end of the line. “Hey, quick question... Do our students need permission from their parents to go out?”

“To go out? Do you mean… recess?” you frowned.

“Of course!”

“No, Sebastian, the kids don’t need permission to go out during break. It's mandatory,” you added with a hint of sarcasm.

“Great, thanks! By the way, did you know the hold music is super cute? I thought you'd want to know since it's as cute as you and…”

You hung up before he could continue.

The next day, the same thing: Sebastian called just to ask whether necessary needed one "c" or two. The day after, it was to ask whether the coffee in the teacher's lounge was free.

It was never anything serious. There was never an emergency or anything like that. It was simply Sebastian Vettel asking you the most stupid things, things he already knew perfectly well. Despite that, you forced yourself to answer the phone, trying to calm your anxiety while giving him a quick, convincing response to get him off the line, before hanging up.

You knew you could ignore him, but deep down, this strange routine had become your favorite part of the day.

And, unbeknownst to you, for Sebastian, it had too.

Seb knew exactly how you felt about him; about any interaction with your colleagues, in fact. He was fully aware that you were a little scared of speaking in public. He could tell by moments like when you nervously played with a pink pen with butterflies every time you had to speak during staff meetings, or when during the Christmas play, just before going on stage with him and your students, you excused yourself by saying you were about to vomit... something that wasn’t entirely an excuse.

To him, you were the brightest person he had ever met. The way you taught, how you cared for your students, how he noticed you watching him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention... Seb knew that being this persistent could have the opposite effect on you, but as much as he wanted to take a step forward and maybe become a friend, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into anything you didn’t want.

So, Sebastian decided to stop calling you.

You were puzzled when the phone didn’t ring. At first, you considered it a good thing, but as the hours went by, you realized something was missing.

The day felt endless, something that rarely happened to you. The same went for your mood, which had plummeted. And as if that weren’t enough, the art class turned into an absolute disaster, and you didn’t know how to manage it, no matter how hard you tried to calm your anxiety and think of alternatives to wrap it up as soon as possible.

Your students only needed a few minutes working on their own, making animals out of paper-mâché, while you corrected math tests, to turn the class into a total mess. There were strips of paper everywhere. The younger kids had glue all over their hands, leaving trails everywhere. One of the blue paint cans had even fallen to the floor, spreading quickly.

To make matters worse, when you tried calling Sebastian to see if he could bring you a mop, the phone decided to stop working.

You sighed and looked at the door separating your classroom from his, realizing that you had no choice but to admit to yourself that, as hard as it was to ask, you needed help.

Without saying anything to your students, you took a deep breath and shyly cracked open the door.

Sebastian was sitting at his desk, gesturing dramatically with his hands while his students stared at him as he seemed to be telling them a story.

"So, there I was, in front of a goat, after losing my parents. And do you know what happened next?" he said, walking dramatically and opening his eyes wide.

“What happened, Mr. Vettel?!” the kids shouted.

“The goat ate the sandwich my mom had made me for the trip.”

The class burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help it and laughed too, stopping when the embarrassment of having to interrupt the class just to ask for help washed over you once again. You couldn’t just walk in there like it was nothing, and—

“Oh my goodness! Look, kids, we have a surprise guest!”

You paled. The 30 second graders all turned towards you at once, their faces lighting up as if they’d seen an alien.

Then, they started chanting your name and running toward you to hug you, forcing you to step inside. Sebastian hopped down from his desk and approached you, arms crossed and wearing a smile that, if you were honest with yourself, you were dying to see.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Miss Y/L/N?”

You clenched your fists, knowing there was no way around it.

“Well… I need your help, Mr. Vettel,” you admitted in a low voice.

Sebastian blinked. Although it took him completely by surprise, he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned to his students.

“Alright, kiddos. I need you to be really good and stay quiet for a moment while I help our favorite teacher, okay? I’m right here, so if I hear any shouting, I’ll take away your snacks and Friday’s movie tradition.”

A collective gasp spread through the class, but Sebastian didn’t have to say anything else. Immediately, all the kids went back to their seats and pulled out books to read.

To your surprise, they didn’t make another sound.

“Come on, Miss Y/L/N, lead the way.”

You followed his lead, and then it was you who invited Seb to come in. Once he stepped inside, the German had no words. Instead, his eyes started to scan the room.

“Wow…”

“Yeah, I know…” you sighed.

Sebastian slowly turned to face you, trying not to laugh. Of all the chaos, what surprised him most was that one of the kids, named Martin, had his shirt stuck to the chair, covered in glue, and three desks were completely covered in the same blue paint that was on the floor. To top it off, the stain you had seen moments ago had spread not only on the floor but also on the clothes and faces of many of your students.

That’s when you realized the worst.

A group of girls was standing, whispering to each other, around the hamster cage in the class... which was empty.

“Y/N…” Seb lowered his voice. “Tell me the hamster’s in the cage, but I don’t see it…”

“It’s somewhere in the classroom. The problem is, I don’t know where, and there’s only half an hour left before the day ends…” You admitted, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Are you telling me there’s a dwarf hamster loose around here?”

“Are you going to help me or what?” you snapped, frustrated, glaring at him. “Look, Sebastian… We don’t have much time before we have to leave, and if I don’t get the kids out at the exact time, just like they were brought in, you know the parents are going to go crazy…”

“Relax, Y/N. I got it.”

You didn’t have much idea what could be going through Sebastian’s head, let alone how he’d manage to fix this, but you tried to relax and give him a chance for everything to return to normal little by little.

To your surprise, that’s exactly what happened.

Not only did he divide the children into small groups to do simple tasks, like going to the bathroom to clean up, looking for the class hamster (which they found almost immediately, curled up beside a cabinet), or collecting the materials they’d used and putting them away, but he also took both classes to the school exit so you wouldn’t have to face desperate parents asking why their kids looked like they’d just been on a jungle expedition.

The bell marking the end of school had rung half an hour ago, and you were fully aware that most teachers had probably packed up and gone home by now. Sebastian hadn’t even appeared to tell you that his students had returned safely to their parents, and, for a reason you knew all too well, that disappointed you.

You sighed, trying to let go of those thoughts and illusions that shouldn’t matter so much. Instead, you focused on the pile of papers on your desk, the art supplies that still hadn’t been put away, and the paint that, no matter how hard you tried to clean it off the floor, seemed impossible to remove. You decided to calm down and start with something simple, like putting away the materials and picking up tiny pieces of paper from the floor.

“Do you know school’s over for today, right?”

You turned to the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, arms crossed and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He threw his backpack on the floor and walked over to sit next to you, helping you pick up the papers without any explanation.

“No… I didn’t hear you come in…” you confessed in surprise. And I wasn’t expecting you, you thought.

“That’s because I’m as sneaky as a ninja. The kids tell me that all the time,” he smiled, glancing at you sideways.

Seb continued his task, silent, scanning the classroom. It was no longer the disaster it had been just an hour ago. Now, the desks were perfectly grouped in fives, the class materials seemed to finally be in place, and, to your surprise, the stains had disappeared from everywhere.

“Y/N, you should go home,” Sebastian told you, standing up and helping you to do the same.

“I just need to finish cleaning up a little more…”

“Or you could not do that,” he interrupted.

You let out a small laugh for the first time that day, carefree. You were nervous and exhausted, and Seb knew that perfectly well.

“I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We managed to not kill a hamster with twenty-something kids running around and stopped the paint from getting on the walls, and you’re telling me you want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow?”

“Well… yes,” you answered, looking down and biting your lip.

“That’s pretty adorable, honestly,” Sebastian said. Realizing what he’d just said, and that it might make you uncomfortable, he corrected himself. “I mean, as in your passion for teaching and everything…”

Stop fooling yourself and be honest with her, Sebastian.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s that, but…” you tried to articulate, your cheeks completely red.

“Well, the thing is: what else can I help you with?” Sebastian asked, unable to stop smiling. The fact that you were embarrassed by something so simple seemed so cute to him that he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, what can I help you with, Y/N?” he repeated slowly.

“Well… the truth is, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Sebastian interrupted. “But I want to help you.”

You stared at him, unable to respond. You were used to helping people, not being helped yourself, and that left you speechless.

“What’s left to do?” Vettel insisted with care, moving a little closer to you while still keeping his distance.

“If you want, you can put the exams on the desk into the folders beside them,” you finally said, giving up.

“On it, Miss Y/L/N.”

“But really, Sebastian, you don’t have to—”

“If you tell me again you don’t need help, I’ll have to punish you with no recess.”

You burst out laughing, and to Sebastian, it sounded like pure medicine. For the first time that day, you didn’t feel like a total failure.

You worked in complete silence, letting time pass as you finished organizing everything. When you were finally done, you slumped into the chair and started checking your emails, wondering if any parent had decided to make your day even worse by sending a complaint after the day you’d had. To your surprise, there was nothing. What did surprise you, though, was that Seb came in with two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of sweets that, even more surprisingly, were your favorites.

“Here you go,” he said, offering you one of the cups while placing the bag on the table. “You were so focused that I didn’t want to bother you by saying I was leaving. And, well… I also wanted to brighten your day a little.”

You thanked him with a smile and didn’t hesitate to try the chocolate, which tasted like a real victory after such a bittersweet day.

Then, you closed your computer, put it in your bag, and, to your surprise and his, turned your chair to face him.

“What’s going on?” you said, noticing that Seb was looking at you… strangely.

“Nothing. It’s just… you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, not knowing what else to say. Instead, he shook his head and set his mind on doing what he had promised himself when he started working there: to try to become friends with you.

“Tell me about Miss Y/L/N’s teaching philosophy,” he finally said.

“Excuse me?” you hesitated.

“Come on, let’s go. I know you have one. You take this job too seriously not to have some kind of ritual or something to make everything go perfectly…”

“Except for today,” you replied.

Seb didn’t say anything because he knew how much you’d keep beating yourself up. Instead, he took a chocolate from the bag he had brought, unwrapped it, and placed it beside you. You finally accepted it without complaint, but with a smile in return.

“Well… I guess I want them to feel safe,” you started to say. “I want them to know that no matter what happens, it’s okay to make mistakes or not be perfect sometimes… I want them to know that I’m here for whatever they need, and that they can be great people in the future.”

“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Seb nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off you.

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “You care a lot, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine…” you swallowed, feeling a little vulnerable.

“I can see that perfectly, yes.”

“Really?”

“Seb nodded, playing with his mug.”

“You’re always the first one to arrive, and I’d swear the last one to leave. You do the most original activities and, at the same time, try not to die in the process, even though today was the exact opposite,” you both laughed. “You want to be perfect for them and try to give your best.”

“Is that bad?” you asked cautiously, tensing up a little.

“Not at all,” Seb answered immediately. “But sometimes I think you should stop being so hard on yourself and just go with the flow. You know... let things just happen by themselves.”

You were about to answer, but he continued:

“You’re a great teacher, Y/N. You don’t need to prove it to anyone but yourself, okay?”

Something in your chest tightened. You weren’t used to hearing things like that, especially not from your colleagues.

Or maybe you never gave yourself the chance for someone to recognize your well-done work, thinking it had never been, and would never be, enough.

You kept talking to Sebastian about a bit of everything, feeling right at home. The hours passed, and between questions about how you both ended up being teachers, what motivated you to dedicate your life to it, and how you both ended up in Heppenheim, it was already 7 PM.

You glanced at the clock and immediately stood up, quickly starting to gather your things, which made Seb alarmed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, worried.

“I should go…” you said, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “I need to catch the bus before it gets too late. It’s the last one of the day and…”

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “You take the bus home?”

“Uh... yeah?”

“This late?”

“I’ve been doing it since I moved here, so it’s nothing new.”

“And no one’s offered to take you home? Not even to share fuel expenses and stuff?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “From now on, I’ll take you home.”

Your eyes widened, surprised.

“Sebastian, you really don’t have to…”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” he cut you off, taking your backpack, offering his hand, and leading you out of the classroom, making sure to turn off the lights before you left.

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

“Do you think you’re a bother just because I want to take you home and make sure you arrive safe?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and still looking at you. “I’d be a terrible friend if I let you go alone on the bus, especially this late with all the drunk creeps around.”

You froze. Friend.

“Come on, let’s go,” Seb spoke again. This time, noticing you were shivering, he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from your nervousness, so he decided to put his jacket over your shoulders. “The day you let me help you a little more, we’ll be the best team the world’s ever seen.”

You didn’t say anything else until you reached Sebastian's car. Not even when you sat inside after Seb opened the door for you and turned the heat on full blast.

“Well…” Seb broke the silence as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Where to, Y/L/N?”

“You want me to guide you all the way?”

“Do you expect me to guess the way?” Vettel joked. “Y/N, I’ve got balls, but none of them are crystal, so…”

Embarrassed, and especially starting to overthink whether Seb would start judging you not only for your answer but for the entire day you spent together, you simply gave him the directions.

Seb, knowing you might be feeling down and, unlike the whole afternoon when you talked about everything, seeing you retreat into yourself again, started asking you a bit of everything. Why did you decide to move to Heppenheim, such a small town? What was your favorite place? Did you like your neighborhood?

You weren’t used to that flood of questions, and especially not to people showing interest in you. Since you were very young, you always felt left out, like you didn’t belong to any group...

But with Seb, it was different. It was like he actually cared about you, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly good about it.

“I like the new neighborhood. Quite cozy and nice...”

Seb parked the car in a small free spot in front of the apartment block where you lived. Then, he turned toward you with a smile, placing his arm behind your seat.

“It’s very quiet, which is great when I need to grade or when I just want to read and relax.”

“Oh, are you one of those?” Seb teased.

“One of what?”

“One of those teachers who reads all the time.”

“Seb, we’re teachers,” you were surprised to call him by his nickname so naturally, but you didn’t regret it. “Of course, I read all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but what I mean is, do you read for fun?” he corrected himself. “Do you read those dirty books or the inspirational ones that tell you how to be the perfect teacher?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you hit him on the arm.

“I read for fun.”

“That confirms it, you do read those dirty books where they’re constantly... you know… having sex in the dirtiest ways…”

“They’re called romance novels, Seb,” you corrected him, ignoring his comment. “The last thing I read was a romantic novel, okay? With no sex in it, by the way.”

“I knew you were a hopeless romantic…”

“I don’t know why I even told you anything…” you whispered, hiding your face in your hands.

Seb wanted to reply with something more, to joke around with you, but he knew that for today, it had been enough. What mattered was that you had felt comfortable and, most of all, opened up a little more with him that day.

Silence fell between you both again, but neither of you dared to say anything else. Not even you, who had yawned a couple of times and were dying to get home and get into bed without even having dinner, made the effort to get out of the car.

You didn’t know why you were so hesitant to leave. It was easy: thank Seb, say goodnight, get out of the car, and walk into the building without waiting to see if he drove off. Instead, you decided to stay there, by his side, your hands resting on your legs, feeling safer and, above all, happier than you had in a long time.

Seb didn’t say anything either. Instead, he focused on the streetlights, growing brighter with each passing moment, while his fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel.

Finally, you were the one who decided to take the step, to both your surprise:

“Well... I felt really comfortable today,” you admitted, with a calm voice.

Seb turned toward you suddenly, surprised.

You swallowed nervously, trying not to let the anxiety consume you and, above all, trying to stop the embarrassment from taking over. 

"Well, I was thinking that... we could do this once in a while..."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk.

"What, reorganize a class and try not to die in the process? And not killing a hamster?"

"No, I meant...," you hesitated, then looked at him shyly. "I meant… spending time together. Outside of school."

That caught Sebastian off guard, but he couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face. He hadn’t expected you to say that, especially not after the chaotic day you'd both had.

"Wait..." he murmured, searching for the right words. "Are you telling me that... you want to spend time together, and not during class hours?"

You felt like you were going to die from embarrassment. Nervous and a little regretful, you weren’t going to back down though. You held your backpack tight, like some kind of protection, while fidgeting nervously in your seat.

"Well... I felt really comfortable today with you, and I thought maybe we could do it again. You know… grab a coffee, go for a walk..."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He just stared at you, unable to recognize the person in front of him, yet delighted that maybe, with a little bit of help from him, you had stepped out of your comfort zone, even if you didn’t seem entirely comfortable.

"Forget what I just said..." you mumbled.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze, unable to look at him in the face. Sebastian, however, couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

"Not a chance. I like your idea. Actually, I’m more than happy with it."

His voice was calmer now, which gave you the courage to look at him. His blue eyes, which normally made you nervous and stole your words, now made you feel the same, but for an entirely different reason. You felt pressure in your chest, but this time it was nothing like the anxiety or fear of being judged and rejected.

"Hey," Sebastian spoke again, gently taking your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Since, from what I’ve just heard, you don't mind spending time with me..."

"Seb, please, don’t ruin this moment..."

You narrowed your eyes, instinctively leaning toward his lips, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to close the distance, pressing his lips to yours. At first, it was soft, like you both were making sure that was really happening not just in your minds. When Sebastian felt you sigh against his lips, something in him clicked. His hand, still resting on your chin, slid to your cheek, caressing it tenderly, while his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

You let yourself go, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in a long time, not because you wanted to disappear, but because you felt more alive than ever.

When you finally pulled apart, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

"Tell me this isn’t a mistake, Seb..." you whispered, still confused about what just happened.

"If it is, I hope you, Miss Perfection, don’t mind."

You laughed nervously, filled with emotions and confusion, but mostly happiness.

"So... what now?" you asked, breathless.

"I love the idea of kissing you in my car like a couple of teenagers, but I think it’s getting too late and we have to get up early tomorrow. So, I have an idea."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow's Thursday, Y/N. We have to go to class," Sebastian explained, as if you didn’t already know what he meant. "If I pick you up, you won’t have to wake up extra early to catch the bus."

Your heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was a simple offer, nothing extraordinary, but to you, it felt like more... like Sebastian wanted something more with you.

Like you mattered to Sebastian Vettel.

Seb saw the hesitation, the doubt in your eyes. He leaned in gently, and after placing a short but tender kiss on your lips, he spoke again.

"I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to," he assured you.

You swallowed hard.

Sebastian was serious. It wasn’t some bad joke like many other guys had made in the past. He really meant it.

"Okay," was all you could say.

Sebastian’s smile lit up his face.

"Great, princess. I’ll see you at seven-thirty here tomorrow. And I know it’s not necessary, but I have to remind you: please, don’t you dare being late."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you opened the car door and stepped out, a smile forming on your lips like never before.

Then, you hesitated at the door, but you were ready to, for once in your life, stop trying to be so perfect.

"Goodnight, Seb," you said softly. "And... Thank you. For everything."

"Sleep well, best teacher in the whole world."

You walked toward your building, and when you were inside, you turned around to see if Sebastian had left. To your surprise, he was still there, making sure you had entered safely.

You both waved to each other, and as you climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, you realized that, for the first time, the anxiety about tomorrow wasn’t paralyzing you. 

Instead, it was tomorrow, alongside Sebastian Vettel, what were making you feel alive.

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - 420.

Warning : death, blood, drugs.

Genre : angst ?

Synopsis : “thanos’s bf also ends up in the games and like during red light green light, thanos still doesnt notice him and he’s like high outta his mind too. and you know how this mofo was literally pushing people during it? so i was thinking that’d he’d like trip his bf (still doesnt realize that it’s his bf) and the situation is kinda like how ali saved gi-hun from getting eliminated in the first ssn during red light green light, but someone (u can pick cus idk who 😭) ends up saving thanos’s bf like ali did. and like when it turns green light thanos realizes that he almost killed his own bf and idk like what happens after that 😭😭” - anon

Reader : male (he/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // pt.2 Fuck 388. // I’m scared I hope it’s good 😥

“A bee ?!” 196 screamed, vividly moving and jumping as she turned around before calming down. “Crap, I just moved.”

Hah ! She lost the game. No money for her !

Thanos wanted to laugh, but before he could a sniper had shot her in the head, her blood splattering his face. He looked at her body as she fell to the ground immediately.

The man from before yelled again to not move, to stay still.

Thanos was beginning to panic, horrified.

“Player 196, eliminated.”

He looked at her, blood accumulating on the sandy ground, the bee she got scared of on her cheek.

He heard a woman scream near him, then another gunshot, followed by sounds of rushed footsteps and more gunshots. But he didn’t look at the mess, his eyes remained fixated on the girl, her forehead, the bullet hole, blood seeping out, endless.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck !

“Let me repeat. You can move forward while the tagger shouts ‘Green light, red light’. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

A round passed and no one had moved, too scared. Everyone was waiting for something to happen or for it to end, completely forgetting about the timer running.

Green light.

Still no movements. Except from Thanos who quickly opened his sweatshirt and grabbed his cross, freezing right as he was about to open it.

Red light.

His heart was pounding, breathing shakily and unevenly. As his eyes were on his cross, he could still see 196, her eyes were open, empty, dead.

Maybe if he hadn’t said there was a bee she would still be alive ?

Green light.

Again, no one moved except 456, now standing before everyone else.

Quickly Thanos opened the cross and took one of the colored pills inside, popping it in his mouth, chewing it before rapidly swallowing.

Red light.

456 yelled something again.

Everyone listened, all waiting for the green light, ready to move forward.

Thanos had calmed down, the sun was bright and warm, and it felt like the colors were diffusing in the air whenever his eyes moved no matter where he looked. He felt so light.

The blood trickling from 196’s forehead looked so colorful he almost got thirsty looking at it dripping down.

And was there music playing ?

Green light.

This time everyone moved, quickly forming lines as they hid behind each other, following closely the person before them.

They managed to take a few more steps before freezing.

Red light.

Thanos was fully relaxed by now, even finding the situation fun. His hands began to itch him, fingers wiggling as he hid behind people, an idea plaguing his mind.

He pushed the person before him, and then there were three people on the ground. He smiled as they looked at him in confusion and horror, their scream quickly being cut off by a bullet in the head.

“Ding ~”

Green light.

He was the first to move, jumping with his arms in the air, and the last to stop. Always finding the right timing. He was careless, skipping and dancing. Heel clicking.

Red light.

He froze arms in the air, some people hiding behind him. He should move next round so they wouldn’t be able to stay hidden.

His hands began to itch again. Thinking about only one thing.

He looked around, the colors blurring together the more his eyes moved, making it harder to read the number on people’s back. Surely there must be an interesting number.

Green light.

He remained still as he looked around himself, quickly spotting player 420 not too far from him. Hah !

“Oh yeah, you’ll fucking do.” He said, laughing to himself, rushing toward the player. Leaving the people he covered on their own. As he hid behind 420, he pushed the person hiding right behind him, making them…

Red light.

…fall.

Gunshot.

Dead.

Thanos’ heart was pounding, standing right behind the man, hands itching more and more, he couldn’t help but shake his hands behind him, a weak attempt to get rid of the invasive feeling overtaking his body.

He couldn’t stop giggling quietly.

Green light.

The man moved, jumping over a corpse and running for a few seconds as Thanos did the same. Right as 420 slowed down to freeze for the red light, Thanos pushed him with strength, sending him forward.

420 cursed as he tripped, flailing his arms as he was about to eat dirt, but another player yanked him back up just in time, 420 hit against the other player before grabbing onto him to not fall over and stay still.

Red light.

Fuck, he had pushed him too early.

Thanos rolled his eyes, biting his tongue, upset that his plan didn’t work this time. Maybe he could push the two ? He smiled, hands moving toward them, the itching starting again.

“Subong ?”

His eyes widened as he heard his name. He looked at the two players in front of him, 388 and- you ? What were you doing here ? When did you turn into 420 ?

Fuck.

His stomach dropped.

You looked at him with a shocked look before frowning, hurt, mad. This fucking bitch ! Your mouth opened, ready to curse him out.

Thanos was barely understanding what was happening.

“Babe ?” He whispered, trying to make sure it was really you and not a hallucination.

“Why did you-”

Green light.

“Run.” 388 told you, letting go of you and moving away. But instead of doing what the man told you, you stayed where you were, grabbing Thanos by the collar, pulling him up slightly, forcing him to stand on his toes.

“Why did you fucking push me, dickhead ?!” You yelled as he placed his hands on yours.

“I’m so sorry ! I didn’t know it was you !”

Red light.

“I’m so gonna kill you.” You glared at him.

Thanos was never scared of you. But at this moment, his heart was pounding, he was sure you were gonna push him to his death. But instead you stayed still, holding him tightly.

Were you hesitating ?

Green light.

“We can go.” He said, patting your hands, signaling you to move with a nervous smile.

“Pull that shit once more…”

“I won’t ! I get it ! Come on…”

You let go of him only to grab his hand, pulling him with you before slowing down and freezing.

Red light.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, eyes looking at you. You could feel his thumb press against your skin gently, anxiously.

“Shut up.” You whispered back, tightly holding him.

You continued like this till you reached the finish line, hands on your knees as you tried to calm yourself. You were shaking, breathing loudly.

You were alive.

“Babe, I’m sorry.” Thanos said, approaching you, a hand rubbing your back.

“Go away.”

“Come on… You know I never would’ve pushed you.”

You straightened up, hitting his arm, making him stumble in surprise.

“You fucking bitch ! Why the fuck are you going around fucking pushing people ?! Huh ?” You hit his arm once more. “What’s wrong with you ?!” And once again.

“I said I’m sorry !” He grabbed your hand before you could hit him again, squeezing and rubbing it gently.

“I fucking hate you.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your other hand, trying to calm yourself.

“Sorry.” Thanos pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you but you dodged him.

“Don’t push your luck.” You said, walking away, looking at the people still in the game. They were so close, but time was running out.

“Baaabe.” Thanos whined, following you.

Then, you noticed a man, 444, on the ground, shot in the leg, crying for help.

You wondered why he wasn’t killed like the others.

“He’s so gonna die.” Thanos said, standing next to you. You ignored him.

Suddenly, a player rushed to 444 before freezing. It was 456.

You looked at him, amazed.

Then a woman came to help, allowing them to cross the line 1 second before it was too late.

You let out an impressed chuckle, smiling. They were so cool. Thanos rolled his eyes.

Your smile quickly fell at the sound of a gunshot, 444 dropping to the ground, bullet in his head.

Oh.

You looked at Thanos with a glare.

“What ? Not my fault !” He defended himself, hands on his chest.

You rolled your eyes.

Quickly the armed guards regrouped everyone, forming a line with Thanos behind you.

As you walked out of the field you looked at all the bodies covering the ground, sprinkled everywhere. You could’ve been with them, laying inert, lifeless. Thank god that man saved you. What number was he again ?

As you walked down the narrow corridors in silence, Thanos poked your shoulder.

“What are you doing here anyway ?”

“Debts. Why do you think we’re here ?”

“Wait. You have debts ?” He was surprised, you never spoke about it.

“You have debts ?” You imitated him, looking him up and down before continuing walking. “Mister one point nineteen billion won.”

You didn’t know he did too, until he appeared on the screen earlier as they announced how much he owed.

He chuckled, rubbing your shoulders, and sighed.

“Ah, it’s not like that.” Then replied before realizing something. “You didn’t tell me either, anyway.”

“I guess we’re even then. Oh, wait no !” You looked at him, wide eyed. “You almost killed me !” You chuckled dryly.

“Oh, come on, I told you I was sorry !”

“Oh, well, everything is fine then. I apologize for my outburst.” You replied before punching his arm.

“Stop hitting me ! Come on !”

Thanos sighed, he had fucked up big time.

He truly was sorry, really. Why won’t you just forgive him, he didn’t mean to almost kill you. Don’t you believe him ?

He sat in the lobby in front of you, sniffing and fidgeting, his comedown was slowly creeping on him.

“Are you alright ?” A guy with long-ish hair asked, sitting to his right.

“Don’t worry.” Thanos replied, waving his hand. “I’m okay.”

You sighed, patting his head gently from behind.

“Fucking asshole.” You mouthed, looking at him. Though you were still mad, your heart tugged at his state. You’ve seen him like that enough times to know it wasn't very pleasant or a fun thing to experience.

He leaned against you, his back hitting your folded legs as he rested there. Your hand was still in his hair, trying to soothe him.

Then the lights were turned on, a group of masked men entering with guns.

People quickly reacted, trying to hide behind others or under the beds. You just stared at them, wide eyed, surprised.

“Congratulations for making it through the first game.” One of the masked men said with a square on his face. “Here are the results of the first game.”

On the screen, the number 456 began to change, counting down rapidly till it reached 365 as the masked man continued to speak.

Suddenly an old woman walked to the front, holding a younger man, begging to spare their lives, promising to pay her son’s debts. And rapidly more people began to join them, begging on their knees.

“Close 3 of the consent form !” A man yelled from the back, silence falling, everyone looking at him.

456. The man who tried to save 444. The man who yelled about dying at the beginning of the game.

“‘The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.’ Correct ?” He walked to the front, confident.

That’s right, they spoke about it earlier, you’ve even read it on the paper you had signed.

“That is correct.” The masked man replied with a nod.

“Then let us take a vote, right now.”

“Of course. We respect your freedom of choice.”

Quickly people sighed in relief, and so did you. Your head fell back, heart racing. You could get out of here. You closed your eyes.

“But first, let me announce the prize amount that’s been accumulated.”

What ? You reopened your eyes, looking at the square guy.

The lights dimmed down, and from the ceiling, an empty glass piggy came down and then, stacks of money fell into it.

Quickly, everyone gathered together, Thanos and you walking toward it as well to have a better view.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” The masked man said.

You were shocked, all that money and it didn’t even fill half of the piggy.

“If you quit the game now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

“How much is that ?” A man asked.

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”

“Fuck. We almost died and they’re giving us 24 million.” Said the guy who spoke to Thanos earlier, running his hands through his hair. “That’s fucking bullshit...”

“20 million ?” Your boyfriend asked, confused before continuing, now frustrated. “You said 45.6 billion !”

“The rule is that a million hundred won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game and more players get eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly.”

“So we can take a vote again and decide to leave after the next game ?” Another man asked.

“As promised in the consent form, you can take a vote after each game and decide to leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point. We always prioritize your voluntary participation. Now, let’s begin the vote.” Replied the masked man as the door behind him opened to install a box with two buttons.

After a few minutes, the man spoke again.

“If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers. Player 456.”

You looked at the man who slowly walked toward the buttons, choosing X without hesitation.

Thanos scoffed before turning to you, leaning closer.

“No way I’m getting out with only that.” He pointed to the piggy by the ceiling. You looked at him with a glare. “What ? You’re gonna pick X ?”

“Fuck yeah, I wanna live.”

“I thought you were here because you had debts too ?”

“I don’t wanna go through more near death experiences.” You replied, squinting your eyes, shaking your head.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. Come on.”

“Right.”

He sighed, looking back in front of him, watching the people vote one by one.

When your number was called, you slowly made your way toward the machine. Mind racing, thinking about Thanos’ words and all the money you owed. Maybe you should stay ? One more game ? Just one ?

You stared at the two buttons, heart racing.

“If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button.” Repeated the square guard.

You looked away and closed your eyes, your hands touching both buttons.

“O !” You heard Thanos yell.

“Shut up !” You yelled back, pressing X immediately.

You took the red patch they gave you, sticking it on your chest before turning around, walking toward all the other Xs. You knew Thanos was looking at you, disappointed. But you didn’t bother to look back at him, showing him your back as you stood with the other Xs.

[imaginespazzi]

Alright so I slept on it, distracted myself and I have now cooled down considerably. Since I am no longer looking at the game through completely rage-filled glasses, I can vent coherent thoughts now.

LAYUPS

FUCKING LAYUPS

Listen losing games is always hard, but the sheer stupidity that lost us this game is hard to discern in words and really starts with layups. We make literally 3 more, and we would have won. The most simplest there is in basketball and we decided that we wanted to suck at it. And look you don't make every shot, of course you don't but HOW MANY FUCKING OPEN LAYUPS CAN A TEAM MISS?

Brief positive interlude, before I start yelling: KK ARNOLD I LOVE YOU. I am so proud of this girl. A true competitor from start to finish. Never fucking scared of the moment, always ready to do everything she can.

Aubrey Griffin is starting to look like herself again. She was so good last night and everything we're used to seeing. Just keep healing bbg, we're gonna need you real bad.

Sarah Strong, consistent queen as per always but she made that freshman mistake at the end and while it would be hypocritical not to acknowledge it, I really can't hold it against her because homegirl was the only starter locked in from start to finish and for some fucking reason we didn't go to her nearly enough in the second.

And now let's get to the venting

Jana El Alfy I cannot keep defending this. YOU ARE 6 FUCKING 5. Look I have had so much to say about her not getting the time she deserves but oh my fucking god, I don't know if I can defend this anymore. Missing easy ass layups, somehow letting people a feet shorter shoot over you like??? I cannot

Kaitlyn Chen girl what the fuck are you here for? Cardio. She pleasantly surprised for me exactly two games but nope, I was right the first time. There is absolutely no reason, other than a likely promise Geno made while recruiting her, for her to be starting over KK.

Ashlynn Shade, you are so lucky girlie that you play with Paige and Azzi and they also both had shitty as fuck nights that I will address in a second because girl, that's the only thing saving you from not being lashed out into oblivion on other social media sites right now. I have absolutely no idea she was ever in the game let alone how she was getting minutes over KK. Defense? Atrocious. Offense? MISSING WIDE OPEN LAYUPS AND THREES. No one pissed me off more this game than Ash because shit should've been easy for her and instead she missed every single chance she had.

Paige saw all those tweets manifesting her freshman year Tennessee performance by a bunch of people who don't know anything else about that game except for the magical shot at the end and voila, she performed exactly like that. Maybe worse. And don't worry friends, I'll be yelling at her coach in a second but the one thing I can't complain about today is that he didn't put the ball in her hands because he did and we saw it in the assists but she didn't play up to the mark at all. And for as much as her performance was a classic case of shots not falling, her shot selection was uncharacteristically bad last night.

Y'all know that look Paige talks about when it comes to Azzi? The soft one? I saw that look on her face immediately as soon as her first shot didn't go in. And I knew it especially when KC was wide open under the basket and Azzi somehow missed her, that she was most definitely in her head. But the worst thing is, that I actually think she almost got back in rhythm, almost got rid of that look, almost got out of her head, by the end of the 2nd with the sequence of FTs > deflection > 3 and then all of that went to shit because she picked up those two quick fouls. And then she never got back into it again, partially because of her own self, partially because this team still isn't doing enough to screen for her/run plays for her and partially because her coach was doing the most ridiculous subbing routine with her. Making her play the third with 3 fouls, then she finally hits a 3 at the end AND THAT'S WHEN HE BENCHES HER? Keeps her out of the game in first 5 minutes of the 4th, lets her lose any semblance of rhythm and then subs her in? I don't even know what to say.

Geno Auriemma WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU

This man had the audacity to sit in the press conference and blame every fucking thing on Paige when he, our hall of fucking fame coach, made the most costly mistake of this whole game with that dumb as fuck timeout. STUPID STUPID STUPID

And then of course the lineups and substitutions, ridiculous shit.

SIGH

The worst thing is, I don't think Tennessee beat us last night. We broke the press. We held them to 7-28 from 3. The boxscore has us beating them in so many places but at the end, we beat ourselves.

And it all comes down to the fact that maybe we just don't have the mentality.

Last night really drained a lot of optimism from me but these are my girls and the potential is infinite. I'm always gonna be rooting for them and little itty bitty hopeful part of me will always think we can win it all but I think, we're gonna need a lot of things to just miraculously go right.

[harryhighkey]

let you go

hi! - this is lowkey the last part of my frontman x reader series!!

thank you so so so much for all the love on this series I have had the best time writing it!!! I love my version of In-ho fr and I'm glad others did too!!

lowkey the last part because I'm not fully done with these characters yet but this series is done, does that make sense? lmaoo basically end of series but not end of them !!

please let me know what you think!!!!!! happy reading!!

a frontman x reader series - masterlist to series here

Waking up felt like bliss.

The bed you were sleeping on was the comfiest bed you had ever slept on, the sheets around you were so soft against your skin, the pillow your head rested on curved against your neck and skull perfectly.

You sighed at how comfortable you felt, your eyes still closed as you were still in that limbo between being asleep and awake. You couldn't remember the last time you had such a peaceful sleep. All the aches and tightness that had gathered up in your body over the past days had left from your rest in this bed of luxury. Did this mean that the games were over?

The games.

Your eyes sprung open at that thought, suddenly you were snapped wide awake.

Your surroundings were unfamiliar, the room all black and sleek. You sat up in the bed, the sheets falling from your body at the movement. That's when you realised you were out of your Player 183 outfit. The blood stained green and white outfit had been replaced for a clean black shirt that had a baggy fit on you. You pushed the sheets from you further and saw that black sweat pants dressed your bottom half. They also looked baggy but the drawstring had been done up tight to keep them on you.

Just as you were wondering who had dressed you, you then noticed the clothes weren't the only clean thing. You yourself realised how you felt so clean and fresh. The slightest smell of soap still lingering on your skin.

Who bathed me?

The relaxed state you had been in while waking up was quickly changing. Your breath quickened as you started to panic, you had no idea if you were still in danger or not.

In a rush, you jumped up from the bed and went to the door. You were terrified as your hand gripped the handle, you didn't turn it yet, you had no idea what was on the other side. What if another sick game was waiting for you? You pressed your ear against the door, it was silent. You took in a deep breath and attempted to turn the handle.

It was locked.

"Fuck." You said out loud. You tried again, but it would not budge, you were trapped in here. Once you stopped trying to turn it, you heard a noise on the other side, your heart beat faster as you leaned in again. You could hear someone walking right towards the door.

Frantically you turned back around, frightened tears filling your eyes as you looked for somewhere to hide. Your quick scan of the bedroom came up empty. You heard a key going into the door handle, you had to act fast.

The next second, you were scrambling under the bed. As the door opened you clamped your own hand over your mouth, not wanting to make a sound.

You watched black boots take a few steps into the room and shut the door once they were in. The boots walked around the bed, you kept your eyes trained on them, the only other thing you could see of this person was the ankles of the black suit pants they wore.

"You can come out now." He spoke, that same authoritative voice you had come to know so well the past few days.

Young-il?

"Come on, pretty girl. Weren't you so much more comfortable on top of the bed?"

It was definitely him, but you had no idea what was going on. Why was he dressed differently too? Why were you both in this room? How had you made it out of the fight? You were trying desperately to piece together your last memories of the fight between the players and the guards, but you were pulled back to reality by the man kneeling on the ground. You watched with wide eyes as he leant down and finally, you could see his face.

You were relieved it was him, but he looked different like this. Dressed in all black, his hair pushed back. He was the one who had been comforting you when you felt exactly like this these past few days, but right now he half looked like a stranger.

You hadn't said a word but he was gathering all he needed to know from your body language. He saw how scared you were, cowering in on yourself under his bed. Slowly, he held out his hand to you. "Let me help you out from under there." His voice came out harder than he meant it to. While you had been sleeping, he had to go back to being the Frontman, and he had to do to gain control back from the players. It had been intense. You frowned at his tone, and he knew he had to bring back the man you knew him as, the man he wanted to be for you. So he tried again, softer this time. "It's me, baby, you don't have to be scared."

Your eyes shifted from his and to his hand, remembering all the times you had held it, all the times that same hand had helped you, comforted you, guided you, lifted you, caressed you, touched you. Cautiously, you placed yours into his, your fear easing a little at the familiar feeling of his hand engulfing yours, grateful that still felt the same.

He aided in pulling you out from the under the bed, sitting you down on the side of the bed where he sat beside you, his hand never letting go of yours.

The silence between you both was deafening, you had a thousand questions going through your head, you weren't sure where to even start.

"You're safe now, you're out of the games. For good." He told you, one of your unspoken questions answered.

In-ho had become a master at reading body language, you were being guarded right now but he was concentrating on any micro expressions you might offer up. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto a few strands of his slicked back hair that had fallen forward from when he had knelt down just then. Those strands of hair made him seem more like the man you had come to care for. He noticed you looking, he squeezed your hand in his, wanting to prompt you to talk.

"You look different." Was all you could manage to say, you slipped your hand out of his and as much as he wanted to grab it again, he let you have your space. You scooted back up to the headboard, leaning your back against it and gathering your legs to your chest as a makeshift guard.

He needed you to come back to him, to open up, to let him in again, so he tried to keep things light-hearted. "So do you." He gestured to the clothes on your body with a smile. You looked down at yourself in the black clothes that didn't belong to you.

"Who's clothes are these?"

"Mine."

"Who dressed me?"

"Me."

"Who bathed me?"

"Me." He answered your questions honestly. You snapped your gaze to his, eye contact locked with one another. Your face was screwing up, you felt exposed. Subconsciously, you wrapped your arms around yourself and pulled your legs in tighter. He could see you thinking the worst, he couldn't have you thinking of him like that. "I didn't do anything else other than wash you. I thought you would rest much better feeling fresh and clean. I would never touch or do anything like that to you without your consent." His words were serious.

He wasn't wrong, you had enjoyed a very deep sleep. That lead you to another thought. "When did I even fall asleep? I don't remember getting here." You were thinking out loud. You remember saying bye to Dae-ho. The bullets flying. Running with Player 001. Him kissing you. Him drugging you.

In-ho kept his face still as you suddenly froze. You were piecing it together, you were remembering. You were trying your hardest not to react now that it was coming back, but he was a master in unspoken human language.

"(Y/N), anything I did was to take care of you-"

"Stop." You cut him off, lifting one of your hands and holding it in front of his face. You looked back to him, a frown etched into your face. You focused on his eyes, they were still the same. You still trusted them. Slowly, you lowered your hand. "What was in the needle?"

"Just a bit of general sedative, it was only meant to knock you out for a couple of hours."

"How long was I out?"

"11 hours."

"What?! Why was it so long? Did you give me more?!" You were instantly angered, he had to diffuse this.

"No, no. You must have been exhausted from the games, you were deep asleep. I kept checking on you to make sure you were okay. I didn't try to wake you, I figured you needed the rest."

"I've been here the whole time? In this bed?"

"Yes. Except for when I bathed you, I did that then put you to bed."

"I was completely knocked for that?"

"Yes." He continued to answer you honestly, if your constant questions was going to keep you here with him, he was glad about that, so he would continue to answer.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Bathe me."

"I-"

"No." You cut him off again. "Show me. I need to know how you did it. Show me here what you did."

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air was so thick between you both that you were almost panting. You knew there was other things you should be asking him, he knew it too.

He shifted first, removing his heavy boots, discarding them on the floor and then moving across the bed until he was sitting beside you. His back leaning against the headboard with his legs outstretched. You kept your eyes trained on him, as he did with you.

"I was like this, but, if you want me to show you..." he looked down at the empty space in between his legs and then back to you. "I had you in front of me."

Your eyes trailed down his position on the large bed. Against your better judgement, you crawled to the spot in front of him. Once you were sat between his legs, you leant back against him. His solid chest felt familiar against your back, like you were back in your tiny bunk. He wrapped his arms around you, despite everything, his touch still comforted you so you relaxed against him.

"We were like this?"

"Yes."

Silence fell between you both as you tried to picture it. You found yourself wishing you had been conscious for it, to experience being so intimately close to him. Was that wrong? You weren't sure he was the man you thought he was anymore.

You needed to distract yourself from those thoughts. "Where are we?"

"My bedroom."

You looked around the room again, searching for clues that told you more about him, desperate to find something that showed you he was still the man you had grown close to. There was nothing super defining, the room was so minimally decorated.

Who was he?

You wouldn't find out unless you asked. But you were terrified of an answer you already knew.

"Young-il-"

He cut you off. "In-ho."

"What?"

"My name is not Young-il. It's In-ho. Hwang In-ho."

Suddenly his hold wasn't comforting, you tensed up, tears blurred your vision, you hadn't even known this man's real name. What if it all had been fake? You tried to get up but he tightened his hold around you.

"Let me go!"

"No."

"Yes!" You thrashed against him, but your strength was no match for his. At one point you had freed one of your arms but all you'd managed to grab was a pillow that just as much hit your own head as well as his when you swung it back to get him with it. Before you could grab anything else, he pinned your arm back under his in the hold he had around you. You tried arching your back but he would twist his arms further around you. restricting the space you had to move.

You tried to wiggle, squirm, kick, turn and flail out of his grip, but it was no use.

You collapsed back against him with a sigh, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

"Are you done?" He spoke with a clenched jaw.

"No." Stubbornly, you began tossing and turning again. In-ho's patience was wearing thin, his fingertips started to dig into your sides. However when you stopped and flinched, yelping out an "ow!" he relaxed his fingers, remembering how you had been hurt during Mingle and it was right where he was pressing into you. He saw the bruises that were painting your skin when he had you in the bath, how could he hurt you knowing they were there?

You'd found it unintentionally, his weakness. Your chance to escape was so close. "You're hurting me!" You cried out, his heart ached at the thought, he had sworn to do the opposite of hurting you, he was meant to keep you safe, unharmed.

The second you felt his hold loosen, you broke free. You didn't spare a moment before you leapt up from the bed

"(Y/N)!" In-ho reached out for you but you were already opening the door and making a run for it.

You ran through a black hallway until you were in a much larger room. You didn't stop moving as you looked for a doorway, knowing In-ho was only steps behind you. Upon spotting it, you sprinted.

"(Y/N), stop!"

"No!" You yelled back, your hands landing on the door handle but when you went to twist it, it didn't move. "No." This time your no was defeated. You were faced with another locked door. You were trapped.

You hadn't left the games at all, this was just another one, a different kind. A game where your heart was playing against your head. Your heart wanted to run right back to the man who had trapped you in this room, if he didn't care about you, you would be dead by now. But your head said to find a way out, he had lied to you, you couldn't trust him.

You turned back to In-ho, he had stopped chasing you - knowing you couldn't get out - instead he had taken a seat on the luxurious couch in the centre of the room. His eyes locked onto yours as he took a sip of the dark liquid in the glass in his hand.

You broke the eye contact first, distracted by an object that was resting on the table beside the couch. Your breath hitched in your throat as you walked closer, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you lifted it.

It was a mask, all black, you could see a distorted looking face made out of geometric shapes within it.

"Do you like it?" In-ho dared to ask, seeing you hold it in one hand while your other traced the lines along it.

You looked back to him then. "Let me out, In-ho." You said his name with distaste.

He shouldn't have but he smiled, he liked hearing you finally say his name even if it was said with spite.

Your temper was reaching it's boiling point and acting on an impulse, you brought the mask up and threw it right at his face with all of your strength. His reflexes were quick though, he brought his hands up in front of his face to block the impact. The mask smashed the glass that was still in his hand. Pieces of it went flying, one of which was right to his face, leaving a cut to his cheek.

As he lowered his hands from his face, it was his temper that had reached a boiling point now. You stepped back as he stood up, you were terrified of what he would do. He noticed and it annoyed him more.

"Stupid girl," he started with an insult, "you should know by now that I won't hurt you." His voice was laced with anger. "The taking of your life would have been an easy one. Instead, I chose to keep you alive, which proved to be a much harder task." He brought his hand up to his own face to apply pressure to the cut, blood beginning to pool and threatening to spill down his skin. "It seems I can't have the same trust in you, though." In-ho was a master manipulator, he wanted his words to make you feel guilty.

It worked.

Before you could say anything, he picked up his mask and took quick steps to the door, using a key to unlock it.

"Wait!" You yelled as he opened it and stepped out, you tried to hurry over to it before it was closed, but you weren't quick enough. The door was locked again.

-----

You didn't know how much time had passed since In-ho had left. You just knew it had been a long time and you had gone through a range of emotions.

First it was anger, you pounded on the door, screaming at the top of your lungs, throwing things around. Next came claustrophobia, sure the area of this apartment was large but you were locked in here. That lead to the hyper alertness, familiarising yourself with every inch of this space. You'd found certain things that told you more about him, - In-ho - you'd said his name out loud again and again, getting used to saying it in place of Young-il. Fear filled you when the door opened and guards walked in, but they didn't say a word as they brought in food and drinks on a bar cart for you then quickly exited. Seeing the guards confirmed you were still somewhere close to where the games were taking place, that lead to you feeling concerned for the people you'd grown closer to in there. Were they still alive? Were the games still taking place?

The games. The all too familiar panic surged through you as the haunting memories you had experienced filled your mind, all of the terror, the sounds of gun shots, the hundreds of dead bodies, the blood, death, death, death.

You lost the ability to take in a complete breath, each time you attempted to do so it would only make your airflow more uneven. You tried putting your own hand against your chest, the same way Player 001 had done when he calmed you down from feeling this way. Your trembling hand didn't have the same magic touch.

What you didn't know is that In-ho had been keeping an eye on you from the cameras hidden so up high you didn't spot them. He was busy keeping an eye on the contestants now that he had officially resumed his role as Frontman, but he was never so busy that he couldn't watch over you, as well.

He'd observed you going through each emotion over the past several hours. This was the worst one for him to see because of the guilt that consumed him. In-ho as the Frontman kept these games going, the games that had done this to you. His own trauma from his own experience of being a contestant had turned him into the Frontman, he couldn't let yours turn you evil, he had to keep you good. You were his last shred of hope.

-----

You hid yourself away in the bed, you cacooned yourself in the luxury sheets and blankets, you weren't even that cold, you just wanted to shield yourself with something. Much like a young child who was experiencing a loud storm for the first time. Tears spilled down your cheeks, whimpers sounded out, your body shivered, you weren't sure how you ever going to get used to dealing with the terror you had experienced.

You were facing the doorway when In-ho walked in. Scared eyes meeting concerned ones. You knew it was wrong but you were so relieved to see him. He knew that was wrong too.

For tonight, you both would ignore that fact. "Please hold me." You cried out and it was his turn to feel relief. All he wanted to do was hold you and comfort you, but he needed you to let him in first.

Once he joined you in the bed, his arms came around you to pull you against him and you tangled your legs with his.

"Deep breaths, remember?" In-ho told you, moving his hand to your chest and holding his open hand against it to soothe you. You listened and with your eyes locked on his, you tried to take a full one in, the air got hitched in your throat more than a few times. "Again." In-ho commanded, nodding with each breath you took until they finally evened out.

Laying there with your heads on the same pillow, this felt like the man you had known, but he was different now.

"Was Young-il real?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho didn't know how to answer. It was an act to begin with, but his feelings for you were the most true thing he had felt in a long time. "Yes and no." You frowned slightly and averted your gaze from his and he felt you make the slightest shift away from him. "Everything between us was real."

You sighed and then silence fell between you both. You were still having that internal battle in your mind of if you could accept all of him now. What you didn't know is that In-ho had been having his own internal battle and he'd made the decision for you.

"I'm going to let you go, let you leave." He announced. Witnessing you still experiencing the affects of the games even though you were out and safe, he knew you needed to not be around any reminders of it at all if you were to properly heal. Him included. He knew the risk of this, that you could go out and report what had happened, but that had happened before, barely anyone got taken seriously. He was willing to take that risk for the sake of your mental wellbeing.

"What?"

"In the morning, you'll leave. I'll arrange it for you, you'll get home safely. Your debts have already been taken care of. You'll be completely free of anything that happened here, I promise you."

You were in shock, some sort of relief washed over you, but you were indifferent to it. You were hearing what he wasn't saying.

"I won't see you again?"

"No."

You couldn't deny the pain in your heart at the thought of that.

"Leave with me?"

"I wish I could, but it's not that simple for me, baby."

The glimmer of tears appeared in both your eyes as you looked at one another, your bottom lip wobbled and In-ho's gaze shifted to it. There was something he had to do just one last time.

When he leant in to kiss to you, you clung to him. Your heart swelled at the feeling of his lips on yours. The taste of salt snuck in as a few tears fell between the kiss, you weren't sure if they were yours or In-ho's.

In-ho pulled back first, but he quickly left another chaste peck to your lips. "I have to go." He said simply, he was breaking his own heart and he knew the longer this goodbye was drawn out the worse of an affect it would have on him.

"No-" You reached out for him as he started to get up from the bed, you managed to grab one of his hands.

He turned to look at you with a sad smile, bringing your hand up to kiss it, too. "Stay in here tonight, have a good sleep, you're safe in here. A guard will knock on the door in the morning, you answer when you're ready, they'll wait for you. And then you'll be taken home."

He went to turn away but you tugged on his hand. "In-ho," how bittersweet you were finally calling him by his real name so sweetly, but he wouldn't hear it again after tonight. "Can you rub my head until I fall asleep?"

He knew he should have said no, just like he should have the first night when you asked him the same thing, then none of this would have happened. But he was greedy when it came to you, how could he deny his pretty girl this last request?

"Yes."

[badkitty3000]

Anonymous asked:

THE ONE FROM THE TRAILER BITTING HIS LIP AND THE SITTING ONE OH LORD HOLD ME BAAAACK please write something for those specific ones (+ last 2 ones duh) like i don’t even need plot atp the one bitting his lip made me go feral 😀

I needed a few days to work on this, but I got it done! This ask is referring to a post I made featuring some sexy Five gifs that you can see here.

And well, you said no plot was needed, so here you go!

Summary: You and Five get down and dirty on the train. 1.3k words

Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink, blow jobs

You hadn’t stopped nagging him about it since he came back and he told you about the never-ending time traveling subway that only he could access. He had deciphered the map fairly quickly after accidentally getting stuck and it had only been a few weeks for him, and only a few minutes for you. But in those few, lonely weeks, he had needed something to occupy his mind, and so he dreamt up multiple scenarios involving the two of you on that train. After your steamy reunion, when he told you about them, you couldn’t get it out of your head.

So, now here you both were, standing at the bottom of the subway stairs as the first train came squealing to a stop in front of you. Five wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He wanted this, but just because he had made his way out before didn’t guarantee that he’d be able to do it a second time. If you became lost in time, unable to get back home, he’d never forgive himself.

With a worried glance back at you, he saw that gleam in your eye that only meant one thing, and fuck, he was not a strong enough man to resist that look. Biting at his lip with hesitation, because he knew he shouldn’t be risking this, he gave in. When the doors slid open, he took your hand and led you inside.

The car was warm in contrast to the chilly platform. As it started to pull away, while some unintelligible voice that sounded awfully familiar spoke overhead, the hum of the train and the darkness of the tunnel created a false sense of security. As Five sat down, he spread his legs just enough to convey what he wanted. Then he looked up at you, settling into the seat like a king on his throne, resting his arms across the back, and raising an eyebrow. You knew what that look meant without any words being spoken.

Get over here. Now.

You obeyed his silent command, and you stood in front of him while his hand roamed up your bare thigh and under your skirt. You had specifically chosen to not wear any underwear today, and when his fingers grazed your bare ass, he smirked; clearly pleased with your wardrobe decision.

“On your knees,” he said plainly.

Dropping down onto the hard and dirty train floor, you rested your hands on his thighs. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Five shrugged off his overcoat and began unbuckling his belt. Just the sound of the clinking metal made your mouth water and your pussy ache. As he freed his hard cock, stroking it a few times, you licked your lips.

“Go ahead, honey. Make Daddy proud.”

There was nothing to say to that, and it didn’t matter anyway, because a second later your mouth was filled with his thick cock. Hissing through clenched teeth, Five dropped his head back. You knew how to drive him crazy by sucking hard on the head and using your hands to stroke his shaft and fondle his balls. The rocking of the train helped you out, and you moved your head up and down with the steady rhythm. Lights would pass over and then disappear again, creating a hypnotic effect over both of you. When you looked up, he was watching you again, those steely green eyes piercing right through you. 

“God, you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he moaned, petting your hair gently while you choked and gagged on his dick.

Hearing him praise you like that would have soaked your panties if you had been wearing any, so instead you felt a warm trickle of wetness slide down your inner thigh. You increased your pace, quickening your hand and hollowing your cheeks to suck him off as hard as possible.

Five’s groans were growing louder and you focused on every beautiful sound that came out of his mouth. The way his breath caught in his throat, the thick swallows, the sharp gasps of air drawn in between the quiet whimpers you knew he was trying to hide. With his hand on the back of your head, he sank lower into his seat, opening his legs wider and thrusting his hips into your face.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he murmured through clenched teeth as his fingers flexed in your hair. “Keep going, just like that, honey. You know how Daddy likes it.”

Removing your hand from around his shaft, you took his entire length into your mouth, shoving it down your throat with each bob of your head, and expertly working through your gag reflex. This was nowhere near the first blow job you had given him, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. He loved watching you kneeling before him, worshipping his perfect cock with your hot mouth. But doing it here, in this weird, supernatural traincar, while your bare knees ached from the hard floor and you had no idea where you were going to end up… that just made it all the more erotic.

You could tell by the higher-pitched grunts and erratic thrusts of his hips that he was about done. With his cock slicked with your spit, you removed your mouth and started to jerk him off fast and hard, sliding your fist up and down at a frantic pace while Five let go of your hair. His eyes closed and lips parted as he let out a long, low moan.

“Fffff-UCK!” he cried out, right before he released himself to your amazing handwork.

Long ropes of cum spurted out of his twitching cock and into your open and waiting mouth. You lapped up the bitter-tasting semen, swallowing as much of it as you could, while the rest dripped down your chin and neck, and covered the front of your dress in white streaks.

As the last few drops were expelled, and Five’s hips stilled and then relaxed into the seat again, he let out a long sigh. When you let go of his slowly softening dick, you sat back on your heels and licked your lips and then the palm of your hand as you stared up at him with a coy smile.

“How was that, Daddy?” you asked, resting your chin on his knee as you blinked up at him.

“So damn good, darling,” he breathed out.

As you stood up and Five started to pack himself into his pants again, the train began to slow as it approached the next stop. You held onto the pole while the brakes screeched loudly and that same odd voice spoke gibberish through the speaker. You peered out of the grimy windows, trying to read the large neon sign that was just outside the platform. 

“Where are we now?” you asked, a little worried.

You had been hoping to stay on the train for a little while longer. Your groin was still throbbing and dripping wet, and you had assumed he would be repaying you for your generous service in the form of either his mouth or cock. Or both.

But when Five stood up and took your hand, the doors opened and he started to lead you out. You hesitated at the door, poking your head out and staring curiously at the sign that you could now read clearly.

“Max’s? What is this place?”

To your surprise, Five grinned widely in that way that meant he was up to something. Then he pulled you onto the platform, taking your chin in his hand and kissing you long enough that when he pulled away you whined a little at the loss of his lips on yours.

“Five, my dress is covered in your cum and I am not wearing any panties. I was also kind of hoping you’d you know…” you pointed to your much-neglected crotch region. “... Take care of this for me.”

He chuckled, pulling you along as he headed for the weird, random deli up ahead. “Come on, darling, I think you’ll like this place. They’ll take real good care of you here.” He looked back at you with a smirk. “And don’t worry about your dress… it’s about to get a lot dirtier.”

***************************

Thank you for this ask, this was fun!! ❤️

If you'd like to check another amazing sexy Five one-shot, featuring some very sexy artwork based off of a couple naughty pics that are included in the original post, @kaybreezy3000's Lips Of Wine will not disappoint 😉

[frillydolle]

hiiii !!! so i dont know if it was u who wrote an arthur x reader fic where reader wears their fathers glasses to read? im pretty sure it wasnt, but i thought of it as a good idea. so, what im asking is, would u be comfortable writing something with reader wearing glasses but instead of not seeing things near they don't see things far away. so they're going through life blurry and arthur notices because they keep bumping into things bc they have no sense of depth without their glasses. offers to make them an appointment for eye doctor and helps them choose the glasses and everything ? thought it would be cute (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

arthur morgan x blind female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ wearing my glasses right now as i write this :)

“sweetheart, 'm right here— no, 'm here—... y'alrigh'?”

“... i think so.”

that was probably the fourth time u have walked into something? no one else wasn't really sure why, but only because u didn't tell anyone. it was like a secret of urs that u have kept for a long while.

arthur was really the only man who knew u struggled with ur eyesight for as long as u can remember. shooting was a huge problem that u avoid as much as u could despite living in an outlaw gang, arthur would do best his best to help u, but it never went well. u couldn't even hit a bottle!

shooting was definitely not in ur skills. no matter the number of times that arthur willing helps u shoot a gun or help u aim better, nothing worked. u always still managed to shoot a tree or shoot at.. basically nothing, u always missed the three empty bottles he placed for u to gun at.

“mr morgan, i can't— i can't see that bottle, 's too far.”

“want me to bring it closer?”

of course he did. undeniably, he's always had a soft spot for you, but it's not like he'd admit anyone else in camp or you, especially. he treated u like a fragile girl, which u weren't too far from. having bad eyesight did make u feel more vulnerable and fragile, and arthur knew this. makes him just a little protective with you as he's often seen with his fingers intertwined with urs or his arm rests around ur waist. it gave yoy sense of safety and.. comfort.

sometimes the silly man might forget just how blind you really are:( he'd never mean to! he'd just be so so focused on something and he'd bring you with him and it just slips his mind simply!

“arthur, wait—!” you'd say as u try to catch up to his pace, ur hands slightly out just in case u fall. “oh, 'm sorry, sweetheart. 'm right 'ere.”

but now, he decided to help you, proper this time. the two of u are on his horse whike trotting away, your hands around his torso tightly incase you fall or anything like such. you had no idea where he was taking you though, his words being “'s a secret, but nothin' too big, y'know?” nonetheless, you were just glad that he out if camp, noticing how stressed he would be until his blue-green eyes would set on you:(

“... saint denis? what do you have planned, arthur?” you say with a small giggle, looking at him while he's looking straight onto the road in front of him. “jus' a nice day out. you 'n' me.” he replied. huh. a nice day out. just a day out. but days were him were never often that simple, usually ended with someone recognising from blackwater or another robbery, or you talking him out of beating a man for making you uncomfortable. you thanked him regardless, making sure you're safe and well.

then he hitches off his hourse, you follow suit...the doctor's office? what was he doing here? i mean, he's fine, right? you're fine too except your eyesight, of course. wait, was he—

“c'mon, darlin'. yer fine, i promise ya.” he says as he sticks his arm to you, waiting for you to hold his arm before walking into the building. he knew you were slightly anxious about it, but he was willing to help you in any way he could.

a man like him... blood on his hands, lives taken because of him, rough and callous from hard work, a man like him with all bite and bark like a violent dog. that man bring a sweet girl like you to the doctor's office to get you sorted out with a new pair of glasses. ♡

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I love your writing and I love that you post so frequently! Could you wrote a fic based on the scene in the finally in which Rupert tells West Ham's coqch to take Jamie out? Could be a separate story (maybe Y/N is Richmond's lawyer) and she finds out and wants to finish Rupert? Or in the P/A universe and Jamie teases her about being protective and caring about him after she stands up to Rupert?

Thanks!

Red Card

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes, angry Y/N, sexist joke from Rupert

A/N: I hope it's okay that I used your request for a Jamie Tartt x PA ff, I thought it fit so well. Thank you for the idea!

The energy in Nelson Road was electric. The stands were packed with Richmond fans, their chants echoing through the stadium as the team prepared for one of their toughest matches yet. The anticipation was palpable, the tension thick in the air, but none of it compared to the storm brewing inside her the moment she overheard Rupert Mannion’s words.

Y/N wasn’t even supposed to be standing on the sidelines during the match—technically, her job as Jamie Tartt’s personal assistant didn’t require her to be this close to the action. But after years of working with Jamie, she’d become part of Richmond’s inner circle, always hovering near the dugout with Roy, Beard, and Ted, ready to handle whatever ridiculous emergency Jamie threw at her.

But tonight? Tonight, she was glad she was there.

Because she overheard everything.

Standing just a few feet from West Ham’s technical area, she had no choice but to hear Rupert fucking Mannion—West Ham’s owner, snake, all-around waste of oxygen—lean toward his coach and murmur,

"Take Tartt out."

She had frozen, fingers tightening around the clipboard she had been holding.

"Hard. Do whatever it takes."

It was quiet. Calculated. Cruel.

Rupert’s voice was as smooth as it was poisonous, a quiet command given to West Ham’s coach, the kind of thing meant to be whispered in dark corners and carried out with no one the wiser. But she had heard it, and once she had, there was no way in hell she was going to let it slide.

It made something snap inside her.

Without thinking, she stormed across the grass, ignoring Roy’s “Oi, what the fuck are you doin’?” and Beard’s sharp “Y/N—don’t—”

She was already moving.

Marching straight up to him.

“Mister Mannion,” she said, voice saccharine-sweet with rage.

Rupert barely glanced at her. “Ah, Miss Y/L/N. Didn’t realize Jamie let his little assistant wander around unsupervised.”

She clenched her jaw. “I heard what you just said about Jamie.”

Rupert smirked. “Did you?”

“You told your coach to injure him.” Her voice was pure steel.

Rupert sighed, as if she were boring him. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Football is a physical sport.” He tilted his head, looking her over like she was some insignificant little thing he could swat away. “Though, I suppose you’d know all about being handled roughly. What’s Jamie got you doing these days? Fetching his water? Maybe warming his bed?”

Y/N lunged.

Her vision went red as she launched herself at him, fully prepared to end him right then and there.

Before she could so much as grab the smug bastard, two line refs yanked her back.

“Let me go—” she growled, twisting in their grip.

Roy and Ted were already jogging toward her, Roy looking absolutely thrilled and Ted looking like he was suppressing laughter.

One of the refs shook his head. “Sorry, miss, but you’re outta here.”

She stood beside Roy and Ted on the touchline, fuming, while the referee held up the red card like she was some kind of violent offender.

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Ted said, ever the peacemaker. “Now, I don’t wanna tell ya how to do your job, sir, but surely we can all agree that giving someone a red card when they aren’t technically a player is a little… excessive?”

“It’s the rules,” the ref said flatly.

“She doesn’t even play, mate!” Roy barked. “You can’t send her off!”

The ref shrugged. “Rules are rules.”

Roy, arms crossed, scowled so hard he looked ready to combust. “It’s a stupid fucking rule.”

“Stupid or not, she has to leave,” the ref insisted.

Y/N threw her arms in the air. “Oh, come on! I didn’t even do anything.”

The linesman coughed. “You tried to assault West Ham’s owner.”

“Tried being the keyword,” she snapped. “If you lot hadn’t held me back, I’d have succeeded.”

Rupert, still standing smugly nearby, let out a low chuckle. “My, my,” he said, voice dripping with condescension. “I didn’t realize Jamie’s assistant was so… passionate about her job.”

Y/N whirled back toward Rupert. “You’re a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man,” she seethed.

Rupert only chuckled, waving his fingers at her like she was some little girl throwing a tantrum. “Run along now.”

The rage inside her burned.

“If anyone on West Ham lays a hand on Jamie, I swear to God, I will—”

Rupert tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “It looks an awful lot like you’re getting rather—” his lips curled into a smirk, “—emotionally involved with your client.”

The audacity of this man.

She felt the anger boiling in her chest, sharp and blinding, but before she could lunge, two line refs grabbed her arms, holding her back.

“Ohhh, I hate you,” she seethed.

Rupert just smiled, infuriatingly unbothered. “Careful now, boys. Wouldn’t want Jamie’s newest toy to get too scratched up before he inevitably trades her in for someone better.”

That was it. That was her breaking point.

She surged forward, only for the refs to tighten their grip, dragging her back toward the tunnel.

“LET ME AT HIM,” she yelled, legs kicking uselessly as she was forcibly removed.

“Jesus Christ,” Roy muttered, but there was unmistakable approval in his tone.

Ted just sighed. “Well, that went about as well as we could’ve hoped.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he dismissed her or the fact that she couldn’t do a damn thing about it, but she let the refs drag her off, still spitting curses as Roy followed them, arguing the whole way.

Jamie, standing on the pitch, barely caught the end of it—just enough to see his PA being forcibly escorted out, Roy yelling at the ref, and Y/N looking ready to kill someone.

He frowned. “What the fuck?”

Isaac, jogging up beside him, snorted. “Mate, Y/N just got a red card. She got sent off.”

“Right. And… why?” Jamie blinked. “She ain’t even a player.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got more fight in her than half of us,” Isaac muttered.

Sam, ever the optimist, said, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explana—”

“—Apparently she tried to murder Mr. Mannion,” Colin interrupted.

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuckin' hell.”

Jamie found her in the locker room after the game, sitting on one of the benches with her arms crossed, scowling at the floor.

She barely glanced up as he walked in.

He leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, smirking. “So.”

She huffed. “So.”

He tilted his head. “Wanna tell me why my personal assistant got sent off the pitch? ’Cause, I gotta say, love, that’s a new one—even for you.”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Rupert told his coach to target you. To hurt you.”

Jamie felt something twist in his stomach. He wasn’t surprised—not really—but hearing it from her, hearing how angry she was about it…

It did something to him.

Before he could respond, she turned to face him fully, eyes blazing. “And then that prick had the audacity to say some sexist bullshit about me, and I—” She clenched her fists. “I snapped.”

Jamie smirked. “You snapped.”

“Yes.”

“And got dragged off the pitch.”

“Yes.”

“And got a red card even though you don’t play football.”

She groaned, rubbing her face. “Yes.”

Jamie couldn’t help it—he laughed.

Y/N shot him a glare. “Jamie.”

“Nah, nah, I’m just—” He shook his head, grinning. “You got sent off tryin’ to protect me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.” A really sexy thing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Admit it. You care about me.”

She scoffed. “Of course, I care about you. You’re my job.”

Jamie smirked. “And?”

“And nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

Jamie leaned in, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You sure sure?”

Y/N shoved him. “Shut up, Jamie.”

He laughed, stepping back. “Alright, alright.” He crossed his arms, eyes still bright with amusement. “But just so you know—next time, if you’re gonna get sent off, at least make it worth it.”

She huffed. “Oh, trust me. Next time, I’m throwing a punch.”

Jamie grinned. “Now that, love, I’d pay to see.”

And even though he teased her for it—because of course he would—he couldn’t help but feel something warm settle in his chest.

Because she had fought for him.

[heliosunny]

Hi, I enjoy reading your stories! For the request, can I please have yandere Robin x reader?

MYSTERY PLANT

Yandere!Robin x Reader

You never expected much from a simple sapling. The tiny Robin Pear tree had been left abandoned near a market stall, its leaves trembling in the wind as if pleading for someone to take it home. You had always been good at nurturing fragile things, so taking it in felt natural.

Days passed, then weeks. The tree flourished under your care, its thin branches stretching toward the sun, leaves unfurling in vibrant green. Then, one evening, beneath a moonlit sky, something impossible happened.

A petal drifted down from the tree's blossoms, shimmering as it landed in your palm. A sweet voice whispered through the room.

"You’ve taken such good care of me… Now, let me return the favor."

The branches trembled, then split apart with a shudder. A gust of wind filled the room, carrying a floral scent that made your head spin. And then, from the heart of the tree, she emerged.

She was breathtaking. Ethereal liliac-silver hair cascaded down her waist, curling slightly at the ends, a halo-like ornament resting atop her head. Pale wings, resembling those of a celestial songbird. Her teal eyes, brimming with warmth, met yours, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile.

"Robin." The name left your lips instinctively, as if you'd always known her.

Her smile widened. "Yes, and you, Y/n… you are mine."

From the moment she arrived, Robin has been following you around. She hummed melodies as she watched you sleep, brushed her fingers through your hair when she thought you wouldn’t notice.

"I bloomed for you" she whispered one evening, her arms wrapping around you in an embrace "You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?"

At first, you weren’t sure how to adjust. But she made it easy. Despite her otherworldly presence, she was warm, affectionate, and endlessly kind—to everyone.

In the marketplace, she became a sensation overnight. With a gentle smile and a soothing presence, she helped merchants arrange their goods, guided lost children back to their parents, and sang in the town square, her voice drawing in crowds like a spell.

"Miss Robin, your voice is truly a gift!" one elderly woman praised.

"A gift meant to be shared" Robin replied, bowing gracefully.

And share she did. Her singing eased tensions, made quarrels dissolve into laughter, and even though she didn’t say it outright—influenced dreams. She once mentioned it casually, over breakfast, as if it wasn’t an insanely terrifying ability.

"I see glimpses of their dreams sometimes" she admitted, twirling a spoon in her tea. "A little adjustment here, a comforting presence there… it helps people wake up happier."

You nearly choked. "Wait—you’re controlling dreams?!"

Robin giggled, tilting her head. "Control? No, no, of course not. That sounds so… forceful. I simply guide."

"You have nightmares sometimes, don’t you?" she asked, voice softer. "I could make them go away."

You hesitated. The idea of her wandering into your mind while you slept should have been unsettling. But… when she smiled at you like that, when her voice curled around your ears like a lullaby, it became harder and harder to think of anything other than her.

The incident happened at the market.

A local vendor, a kind, older man who sold fresh fruit, was being harassed by a group of thugs. They knocked over crates, laughing as apples and pears rolled across the dirt.

"Pay up, old man. Don’t think we forgot your debt."

Robin was too far away, speaking with a group of women who had begged for one more song. So you did what any decent person would do.

You stepped in.

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

The leader sneered. "Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?"

You weren’t exactly intimidating, but you held your ground. "Just walk away."

For a second, it seemed like they might. Then, one of them used a knife aimed towards you. You felt blood on your arm. The fruit vendor shouted in alarm.

But then—

A melody cut through the chaos.

"Oh dear," Robin’s voice floated through the air, lilting and amused. "It seems I’ve come at the perfect time."

The thugs froze. Their eyes glazed over as the sound of her song wrapped around them like vines, twisting through their minds, rooting itself deep into their thoughts.

You watched in stunned silence as their expressions slackened. The one who had cut you dropped his knife, eyes unfocused, lips trembling like he was on the verge of tears.

Robin stepped between you and them.

"Now," she purred, tilting her head, "I could tell you to leave, but where would the fun be in that?"

The melody shifted.

The men shuddered.

Without another word, they turned and ran.

"What…?" You blinked at their retreating figures, confused. "How did you—?"

"Are you alright?" Robin cut in as she turned to you. Her gaze flickered to your injured arm, tears are about to fall from her eyes.

"That was reckless of you..." she murmured, stepping closer.

You gave a sheepish laugh, wincing as you pressed a hand to your wound. "I just… I couldn’t stand by and do nothing."

"You’re too kind for your own good."

Her other hand cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek in a slow motion.

"You should leave these things to me," she whispered. "I’ll always keep you safe."

You smiled at her, relieved. "Thanks, Robin. I don’t know what you did, but… I’m glad you were here."

"Of course. I’ll always be here."

By the time you returned home, the sun had already dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in dusky purples and oranges. The weight of the day clung to your limbs, but somehow, having Robin beside you made everything feel lighter.

"You’re still bleeding, you know" she murmured, glancing at your arm as you stepped inside.

"I’ll clean it up in a bit" you reassured her.

Robin frowned, but didn’t push further. Instead, she turned toward the bathroom, stretching her arms above her head. "Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to freshen up."

You chuckled, watching as she disappeared behind the door.

The sound of water filled the quiet house as Robin bathed. You took the time to bandage your wound, then unpacked the things you had bought earlier—some vegetables, spices, and a small box of decorative hairpins. You had grabbed them on a whim, thinking they’d suit her.

By the time she emerged, steam curling from behind her, Robin looked more ethereal than ever. A towel was draped around her shoulders, her damp silver-blue hair cascading down in loose strands.

"Come here" you gestured, patting the seat in front of you.

Robin raised a brow but complied, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "What are you up to?"

"Your hair. It’s still wet." You reached for a cloth, gently running it through her locks, soaking up the moisture.

At first, she said nothing, only closed her eyes, letting you take care of her. The room was silent except for the soft sound of the towel brushing against her hair. You moved with careful fingers, untangling knots, smoothing out each strand.

"You’re so gentle" she murmured.

You huffed a laugh. "Is that surprising?"

"No. Just… nice."

When her hair was dry, you reached for the brush and slowly ran it through the silken strands, watching the way the light caught in them.

"You have really pretty hair, Robin."

Robin’s eyes fluttered open, tilting her head slightly to glance at you. "You think so?"

"Mhm." You set the brush down, reaching for the box of hairpins. "I, uh… got you these earlier. Thought they’d look nice on you."

Robin blinked in surprise as you opened the box, revealing delicate pins shaped like tiny birds and flowers. For a moment, she simply stared at them, then she let out a soft laughter.

"You’re too sweet, Y/n" she hummed, tilting her head. "Go on, then. Decorate me as you please."

You rolled your eyes at her playful tone but got to work. Carefully, you gathered sections of her hair, twisting them into an elegant half-up style, securing them with the pins. When you were done, you sat back, admiring your work.

"Beautiful."

Robin turned to you, smiling. "Why, thank you."

After taking care of her hair, you moved to the kitchen, determined to cook something nice for her. Robin sat nearby, watching with quiet amusement as you chopped ingredients and stirred the pot.

"You don’t have to do all this for me, you know" she mused, resting her chin on her palm.

"I want to," you replied simply. "You’re always helping others. Let me take care of you for once."

Dinner was warm, filling, and cozy. You ate together, sharing small stories and laughter between bites. But the real fun came afterward.

Robin had been humming absentmindedly, some melody she had sung in the market earlier, when you decided—for some reason—that you wanted to return the favor.

"I should sing for you too" you declared.

Robin perked up immediately, teal eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh? Please, go on. I’d love to hear it."

You hesitated. Bad idea.

But it was too late. Robin was already watching, waiting, anticipation clear on her face.

So, you took a deep breath and started singing.

And—it was bad.

Off-key. Wobbly. Nowhere near the enchanting, ethereal quality of Robin’s voice. But you kept going, determined.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Robin burst into laughter.

"Oh, Y/n.." she gasped between giggles, clutching her stomach. "That was… truly something."

"Hey!" You huffed, throwing a napkin at her.

She caught it easily. "Don’t pout, don’t pout. It was adorable."

Despite her teasing, Robin’s laughter was light, happy. And as embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t help but feel warmth spread through your chest at the sound.

As the night stretched on, the two of you stayed like that—talking, laughing, simply existing in each other’s presence.

Morning came. You stretched with a yawn, blinking sleepily as the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. Robin had already woken before you—unsurprising, given her boundless energy.

"Good morning, Y/n" her voice drifted in softly from the other room.

You followed the sound, finding her standing by the small greenhouse extension you had built—just a tiny, sunlit space where you kept the plants you’d been tending for years.

Robin looked ethereal, dressed in soft pastels, her hair still pinned up the way you had styled it the night before. A teacup rested in her delicate hands as she gazed at the plants.

"You take such good care of them"

You chuckled, stepping beside her. "Of course. I’ve had them for a while. Some of these I even grew from seedlings."

Robin’s teal eyes flickered toward you, a small smile gracing her lips. "I see… so they are very dear to you."

"Well, yeah." You knelt down, checking the soil of a small potted rosemary plant. "It’s rewarding, watching them grow. But I guess you’d understand that better than anyone."

Robin hummed, sipping her tea. "Yes… though, unlike them, I can love you back."

You blinked, glancing up at her.

Robin smiled, serene and elegant as always, tilting her head slightly. "Plants do not think. They do not feel. They merely exist, waiting for your touch, your care. But me…"

"I can cherish you properly."

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "They’re just plants, Robin. I don’t love them like I love people."

Robin exhaled, her smile deepening as she reached out and plucked a small petal from one of the flowers. She twirled it between her fingers, watching it spin before it fluttered to the floor.

"Good" she whispered, almost to herself.

The rest of the day passed in quiet, domestic bliss. Robin helped you prepare lunch, her hands moving with practiced grace as she plated the dishes with an elegance that made even simple meals look like fine dining. She never ate much, but she always insisted on tasting anything you made.

"If you’ve prepared it, then it must be worth savoring" she would say, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Afterward, you found yourself lying on the couch, exhausted from the morning’s errands. Robin sat beside you, fingers combing gently through your hair.

"You should rest more" she murmured, her voice a delicate melody. "It’s no wonder you sleep so deeply."

"Mhm… guess I’m just used to staying busy" you mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

"Then allow me to lull you."

The familiar hum of her voice. It wrapped around you like silk, smooth and sweet, threading through your consciousness, urging you into the embrace of sleep. You barely resisted. Robin continued stroking your hair, her touch light, careful.

"That’s right," she whispered, almost inaudible. "Just stay close to me. Only me."

You didn’t hear it. You had already slipped into dreams.

That evening, as you stepped back into the greenhouse to water the plants, something felt… off.

A few of the smaller plants were gone.

Not withered. Not rotting. Simply… missing, as if they had never been there at all. The soil remained undisturbed, no signs of pests or animals. The pots that once held their stems sat empty, eerily clean.

"Robin?" you called.

She stepped in behind you, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "Yes?"

You gestured toward the empty pots. "Did you move some of the plants?"

Robin tilted her head, eyes wide with soft curiosity.

"Oh? Were they important?"

"It’s fine. Maybe I forgot I repotted them or something."

Robin smiled, reaching up to adjust one of the hairpins you had given her.

"Yes," she murmured, "perhaps that’s it."

The moment passed. The warmth returned.

And yet, as you continued through the night, laughing with her, cooking for her, letting her tease you over your terrible singing…

The missing plants lingered in the back of your mind.

Like something unseen, waiting in the dark.

That night, you saw her in your dream, you assumed it was simply coincidence.

You stood in a vast garden bathed in moonlight, flowers blooming in unfamiliar yet impossibly beautiful shapes. The air was thick with a gentle fragrance. Somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of a melody drifted through the stillness.

She stood under a tree heavy with pale blossoms, her hair cascading down while the same hairpins you had gifted her glinting faintly in the glow.

"Oh," she smiled softly, folding her hands in front of her. "You’re here."

Her voice was as delicate as the night breeze, carrying a warmth that made your chest feel light.

"Robin?" you asked, blinking. "Why are you…?"

"It seems your mind has called for me."

"I don’t remember—"

"It does not matter. We are here now, and that is enough, is it not?"

Something about the way she said it made you nod, despite the lingering confusion.

She reached out then, brushing her fingers along your wrist. "You are tired. Let me grant you peace, my dear."

And before you could say anything else, the world melted into warmth.

You awoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, heart pounding faintly in your chest. The dream had been so vivid. You could still feel the cool night air, the scent of flowers, the softness of Robin’s voice lingering at the edge of your senses.

"Good morning"

Robin was there, standing by the open window, bathed in morning light. She turned to you with a soft smile, as if she had been waiting for you to wake.

"You seemed to sleep quite deeply," she mused, approaching with measured grace. "I do hope you found rest."

You sat up, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah… I had a strange dream."

Robin tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her teal eyes. "Oh? Do tell."

You hesitated. The memory of the dream was still fresh, yet the more you thought about it, the more distant it seemed—like mist slipping through your fingers.

"It was just… a garden," you muttered. "And you were there."

"How lovely," she murmured. "Perhaps your heart simply longs for me, even in sleep."

She said it so lightly, so effortlessly, that you almost didn’t catch the weight of her words.

You laughed, brushing it off. "You make it sound so dramatic."

Robin chuckled, shaking her head. "I merely speak the truth."

"Regardless," she continued, "I am pleased. You should always rest knowing I am near."

The day passed with a familiar rhythm. Robin accompanied you to the market again, her presence as radiant as ever. She spoke with people kindly, helped an elderly woman carry her wares, and even hummed a tune that made a crying child calm almost instantly.

You watched as stall owners greeted her with warmth, their expressions softening the moment she smiled. It was as if she brought ease wherever she went—like a breeze that smoothed out the rough edges of the world.

But when you glanced at her, you noticed the way her gaze lingered on you.

Not just fond. Something darker.

"Is something the matter?"

You shook your head. "No. Just… watching."

Robin’s lips curled slightly.

"Then please," she murmured, "watch only me."

[cosyvelvetorchid]

@bucktommyfluffebruary Day 8: Surprise

Another of my prompts from last year that fit.

*****

Rated T | 2,430 | tw: homophobic slur

Buck knew that Tommy loved a romcom. He liked lots of genres of movies, and all for different reasons. But romcoms he loved because of the fantasy of them. He’d told Buck once that growing up with a father like his, and then spending the majority of his adult years firmly tucked away in the closet, that he’d wholeheartedly believed that a true love or romance was not in his own future. That living vicariously through two people on screen, even if they were straight, was the closest thing he’d get to a happy ending.

He’d very much changed his mind since he’d met his Evan, but still Buck had been determined to give him all the romantic moments he’d missed out on over his life.

It started with surprising Tommy with a candle lit dinner ready when he came home from work.. Which ended with Buck being bent over the table as dessert. Not quite the emotional response he was going for, but hey who was he to say no to that!

Tommy mentioned once a book he loved as kid and Buck spent three weeks hunting down a first edition. He was certainly blown away by Bucks thoughtfulness and showed him immediately by getting on his knees. Again Buck was happy to oblige—he always was—but it still wasn’t the response he was truly hoping for.

He wanted to sweep Tommy entirely off his feet. Woo him to the point of breathlessness. Make him feel so unbelievably cherished and loved that he forgets out to speak.

And then the idea hit him.

Oddly, while watching Carrie.

“Man, the worst thing that happened at our senior prom was Mikey Jacobs spiking the punch. I still can’t drink Jack Daniels” Buck reminisced.

“Better than pigs blood, babe. Or, you know, the revenge by telekinesis.”

“True. What about you? What was yours like?”

Tommy sighed. “I, uh, didn’t go to mine.”

“Really?” Buck looked at him in surprise. “I mean granted you were secretly gay, but I know the girls would have been killing each other to get the Tommy Kinard to take them to prom.” The idea seemed to bring such joy to his Evans face that Tommy almost didn’t want to admit the reality.

“I appreciate the support, babe, but I wasn’t exactly drowning in dates with girls.” He laughed “I was 6’2” by the time I was 15 but I didn’t know how to build muscle or even eat right for my body’s needs. I went from 5’8” and over weight to 6’2” and skinny, which my dad just loved to point out constantly. I was super insecure and had zero confidence to ask a a girl out.” A look of sadness flickered across his face.

“Did people not go stag at your school?”

Tommy huffed a cold laugh. “Only fags and virgins go stag to a prom, Thomas.” He mimicked his father’s voice. Buck gently rubbed Tommys arm.

“I’m sorry you had to hear shit like that from your dad. You deserved so much better than that.”

“I know that now and mostly because of you.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Bucks lips and smiled.

“Good.” He smiled back, already formulating his next plan to woo the shit out of his boyfriend.

This one took a few weeks of planning but Buck was certain it would knock Tommys socks off.

****

Tommy was surprised that Lucy had suddenly turned up at Harbour on what was supposed to be her day off. Even more surprised when she offered, nay insisted that she take Tommys remaining 24 hours of his 48 hours shift.

In the end their Captain had to practically shove him out of the harbour doors to get him out. He eventually relented and left for home.

Approaching their front door he noticed a note in handwriting so bad it had to be Bucks. God did he love him but the man’s penmanship looked like a doctor’s. A drunk doctor’s. Wearing a plaster cast. Thankfully after almost a year together he’d learned how to decipher Evans scribbles.

“Go straight upstairs.

Shower and get dressed..”

“Huh?”

“Don’t “huh” me, Kinard. Just do it. Then meet me in the dining room.

P.s: love you, Your Evan.”

Tommy chuckled to himself but did as he was asked and walked straight up the stairs to their bedroom. He was surprised, and confused, to see his tux freshly pressed and laid out on their bed.

After showering and dressing he made his way back down found himself knocking on his own dining room door for permission to enter.

“Come in.” Evans voice called from inside.

Tommy opened the door his mouth and eyes opened wide at what he saw.

The table had been pushed to the side wall, with a black cloth draped over the top, atop of which was a punch bowl filled with an orangey pink liquid. Surrounding it was lots of bowls filled with candy and chips and other kids favourite snacks.

A shiny disco ball hung from the ceiling with paper decorations swinging from the Center of the room and up to the corners. Twinkling lights hung all around giving the room a gorgeous warm glow.

And standing in the centre of the dining room, under the disco ball, in a tux that fit him so incredibly perfectly was the most beautiful man Tommy had ever seen.

“What’s.. what’s going on?” Tommy asked not being able to hide his smile.

Evan took a few steps toward him and held out his hand. “Thomas Kinard. Will you go to prom with me?” Every time Tommy thinks he can’t fall in love with Evan any more, he’s proven wrong.

For the next two hours they do nothing but dance like idiots, drink spiked punch (tequila instead of Jack Daniel’s this time - buck would actually like to remember this prom), and snack on junk food.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose like this. Or even smiled this hard. Evan was by far the greatest joy to ever come into his life. He reminded Tommy of what fun was, what joy was and what it felt like to be truly unashamedly himself - something that nobody had ever made him felt safe enough to truly be.

Buck knew he’d achieved his task of sweeping Tommy off his feet tonight already, but there was one more thing he decided, last minute, that he was going to do.

Buck picked up his phone and searched for the perfect song, settling on Songbird by Eva Cassidy because it was on the soundtrack to Tommy’s favourite movie Love, Actually. He didn’t even need to do anything because as soon as the opening bars played through the speaker Tommy instantly knew what it was and pulled Buck into a slow dance.

They swayed slowly and silently for a few moments just breathing in the perfect moment with each other with Tommys arms wrapped around Bucks waist and Bucks arms around his neck.

“So, not that I’m complaining, babe, what with all the romancing lately?” Tommy asked.

“You deserve it.” Was Bucks simply reply. Tommy looked at him with a mixture of adoration with a hint of confusion. “You go out of your way to show me how much you love me and to do all these sweet and romantic things for me, but you deserve them too. You deserve to be shown how much you mean to me also.” Tommy was looking at him with those eyes again - the big bright ones Buck first saw right before he kissed him for the first time - and he had to use every bit of strength to hold back from jumping him, because he needed to say this before his courage disappeared.

“I see how you look at these little moments in the romcoms you love and I hate that you never got to experience them, so I wanted you to have some of them of your own. Our own. Plus, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to tell you just how much I love you. To tell you how unbelievably happy I am that you walked, well, flew into my life. To tell you that I have never in all of my life thought that I deserved to have someone so beautiful and kind and wonderful and just fucking incredible as you. And.. and to ask you to marry me.”

Tommy blinked. Did he hear that correctly?

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s- we’ve not even been together a full year yet, and full disclosure I didn’t even know I was going to ask until, like, 10 minutes ago, so I don’t even have a ring, and-“ Tommy grabbed Buck either side of his neck and pressed his lips firmly against his. When Tommy pulled back his cheeks were wet with tears cascading over his beautiful lower lashes. Finally, Buck thought, though he kept that to himself.

“Hold that thought.” He said simply before quickly leaving the room. He took 2 steps at a time as he hurtled upstairs, before running back down seconds later back to Buck still stood in the center of the dining room.

He lifted up his palm on top of which was a dark blue velvet box, opened, with 2 tarnished silver bands of differing sizes, each with a shiny silver strip running around the centre of each of them.

“You bought.. how long have you..” Buck could barely get the words out. His eyes kept flicking between Tommys beautiful face and the rings in his hand.

“About a month. Well, I ordered them custom made about 2 months ago but I’ve had them for a month.”

“Custom?” Was all Buck could get out.

Tommy pointed to the shiny part of the rings. “A couple of years ago I had this rescue and the husband of the woman we were life flighting was telling us about how they met. Anyway, he said that his family had this tradition of putting something sentimental in the band to give to your partner as.. sort of as a piece of you. You know that piece of metal that sits on my desk in the study?”

“Y-yeah. It’s part of the blade from the first chopper you flew when you transferred to harbour.”

“Right. Well, it now has a little chunk missing.” He laughed. “Transferring to the 217 was the first piece of me finally becoming who I always wanted to be. You’re the last piece, Evan.”

Buck had this whole night planned—minus is own spontaneous proposal—and had wanted Tommy to be the feeling pleasantly surprised and loved.. yet here he was himself being loved so fucking beautifully it was taking everything within him to not break apart right there.

“What’s-what’s in your ring?” He asked.

“Well, that was.. a little trickier. And full disclosure on my part— Maddie knows because I had to enlist her help.”

“Okay..”

“It’s difficult to pick something when your boyfriend loves so many things,” he teased “and then Maddie.. she gave me a little silver bracelet that she was given as a kid and-“

Buck inhaled a breath when he realised what bracelet Tommy was referring to. Immediately his whole chin began to quiver and tears filled his eyes.

“The one that Daniel gave to her.”

“Yeah.” Tommy said softly. “She told me how he’d seen it one day when he was with your grandparents when he was 6 or something and insisted he give to her for her birthday.” Buck nodded, not being able to find words. “She said that this would be something that would be special to you because you never got to know him. Is-is that okay?”

Buck looked from the ring back to up Tommy; eyes completely blurred from tears pouring out of him.

“I.. this..” He could always find peace in Tommy eyes but this was all so- it was overwhelming and.. he took a deep breath to try and calm himself.

“Tommy, this whole night was-was supposed to be about you.. a-and showing you just how much to mean to me and then..” he blew out another breath trying to center himself “and then here you are with the most beautiful fucking gesture, I.. I can’t..” The tears flowed once again and this time he threw his arms around Tommys neck and held on tight. Tommy, as he always did, reciprocated and held him tightly back.

“I love you so fucking much.” He cried into Tommys neck. Tommys own tears were flowing too, now.

“God I love you, too, Evan. More than I could ever even show you.”

“I don’t know-“ Buck pulled back with a laugh “I think you hit it out of the ball park with this one.” He gently thumbed Tommys tears from his cheeks. He looked closer at the rings.

“Are there inscriptions?”

“Only on yours.” Tommy replied, sniffing.

“For my Evan. Always.” Buck read out loud. Tommy wiped away Bucks next tears that came. They were the only type of tears he ever wanted to illicit from his Evan.

“I thought you would what to decide what to inscribe on my ring.”

“Can I put it on you now?” Tommy asked.

“Uh, technically I should be putting yours on you because I asked first. Actually, you haven’t actually said yes by the way..”

Tommy reached up an gently fixed a curlon Bucks head and looked at him with those big earnest eyes again.

“Yes.”

Buck took his ring out of the box and slid it onto Tommy finger, then Tommy did the same with Bucks ring.

Buck gripped the lapels of Tommys tux and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed into it. It wasn’t a kiss that they’d shared before; this one was full of promise, of hope, a future - the rest of their lives as husbands.

Tommy pulled back for a second “By the way, I did promise Maddie that the second we became engaged that we would face time her. Where’s your phone?”

“She can wait a little bit.” Buck replied aiming his lips at Tommys neck.

“You sure? She might be mad.” Buck lifted up and looked Tommy in the eyes.

“Tommy, there’s only one thing I want to do right now and it absolutely does not involve my sister.”

“She can wait a little bit.” Tommy repeated wrapping his arms around his Evans neck and pulling him in for another deep kiss.

[bvrnesher]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

cw: none.

ㅤ୨���ㅤ🌙ㅤ˳ 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 ! 𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒎. 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

﹙𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆! ﹚ꪆ

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗡𝗢 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 the future had in store when you said yes to that son of Ares.

You were relatively lucky. Everyone liked charismatic people—you figured that out the moment you arrived at camp.

I mean, you were beautiful, kind, and… well, everything a daughter of Aphrodite was supposed to be.

Some people thought that made you shallow, but that was subjective. The thing was, good or bad, people were always watching you.

And you liked the attention, sure, but sometimes it was too much. Lately, your ex—an idiot son of Ares—decided it’d be a great idea to tell every camper at a bonfire party in the woods that you’d slept with him.

People said you were lucky. Lucky to be a daughter of Aphrodite, ridiculously gorgeous and popular, but… well, you felt more like you’d been used.

And you meant that. You found out that every single guy who had sworn to love you for a lifetime had a pretty short concept of what that meant—and not just because they were demigods.

Everything had a limit, including you. So it wasn’t a surprise when, a week later, you ended up crying on a forgotten dock, way out at the furthest edge of the camp’s beach.

The waves crashed against the rocks while the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a sunset that, under any other circumstance, you would’ve considered beautiful—if only your eyes weren’t drowning in tears just as salty as the ocean.

You cursed under your breath when you heard the wooden planks of the dock creak under unfamiliar footsteps. Pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, you tried to force the tears to stop.

You didn’t turn around as you wiped your face. Not until you heard a voice you recognized anywhere.

A voice belonging to a very specific idiot.

"Hey, you okay?"

Percy’s voice came from behind you, sounding ridiculously concerned compared to his usual habit of messing with you over… well, everything.

Seriously. Why now?

"Yeah," you answered on instinct, steady but quieter than usual.

Percy wasn’t that much of an idiot.

"Do you need something, or can you leave already?" The words came out harsher than you meant, but you couldn’t help it.

He frowned at your tone but hesitated before responding.

"No." His voice lacked the usual teasing edge. No witty comeback, no sarcasm—just that. "I don’t want to."

You let out an exasperated sigh, keeping your gaze fixed on the ocean, not even daring to look at him.

"Jackson, seriously, I’m not in the mood for your—"

"I’m not an idiot," he cut in, though even he didn’t sound entirely convinced. "I asked if you were okay." His voice was softer this time, surprisingly gentle coming from him.

For a second, he considered just walking away, letting you be miserable in peace. He had enough problems of his own—he didn’t need to get involved in yours.

And yet, he found himself stepping closer, slow, hesitant.

"You look like a mess," he said, sitting next to you on the dock, his feet dangling off the edge, dipping into the salty water below.

"How sweet," you muttered, turning away from him, clearing your throat as you started playing with the hem of your dress.

Percy winced at his own words. He sucked at this. He wasn’t exactly good with comforting people.

"I mean… you… uh… You look beautiful, but I just—" He stopped, realizing his slip but not bothering to correct himself. "I mean, you don’t exactly look happy." He shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, really? You think?” you didn’t meant sound like a jerk. He wasn’t being one. But old habits died hard.

Percy rolled his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said.

“No.” you refused, keeping your gaze locked on the waves.

Percy mumbled some curse in Ancient Greek. He could leave. He knew he should. But something kept him there. Impulse won over logic—again. Percy reached out, tilting your chin up between his fingers, forcing you to face him.

He frowned the second he saw your slightly red, tear-streaked eyes.

“This is ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed, caught off guard by the sudden touch, and felt heat rise to your face. You nodded and tried to pull away, but he held on just a little longer, keeping your eyes on his.

“We seriously need to work on your definition of ‘fine,’” he muttered.

His voice had softened.

Silence.

"You have a terrible definition of ‘okay.’"

He tilted his head, letting go of your chin only to wipe away a stray tear with his thumb.

And, as always, he didn’t think twice about it. And you? You almost died right there.

"Thanks," you murmured, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly—something that never happened around him.

"Who did this to you?" he asked. His voice was relatively calm, but there was something else in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. Was it… protectiveness?

"No o—"

"Was it that idiot son of Ares?" he cut in before you could finish. "Figures. It’s always them. Just as dumb as their dad."

"Percy!" you gasped, but a laugh escaped before you could stop it.

"What? It’s not a lie," he said, meeting your gaze head-on.

His eyes. The kind you could drown in and wake up in Elysium. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

You smiled. He smiled back. And, of course, an idea popped into his head—just like always.

"Come on, get up." He stood, offering you his hand. "I can’t dance, but I’ve been told I’m hilarious when I try. Want to confirm that for me?"

The grin he gave you wasn’t one he usually directed at you. His eyes gleamed with that signature mischief of his.

You hesitated before taking his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. Looking up, you found him already watching you. For the past two years, he’d had a solid height advantage over you—not that you’d ever admit it bothered you.

"On a half-rotten dock, at the beach, with no music?" You raised a brow, almost amused. "And without knowing how to dance? I knew making a fool of yourself was your thing, but this is a new level."

He scoffed.

"I learned it from you."

"Yeah, right," you shot back. "You do it so naturally, I thought you were born with it."

Before you could react, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer in one quick movement.

Your hands landed against his chest from the suddenness of it, but he barely reacted. Instead, he took one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.

"I’ve seen you dance," he murmured, his voice lower, softer. He leaned in, lips close to your ear. "Teach me." The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard.

"Put your hands like this," you murmured, adjusting the hand he had on your waist with your free one—bringing the two of you even closer.

You rested your head against his chest, and Percy felt his heart stumble. He exhaled, dropping his chin to the top of your head and closing his eyes, letting himself be guided by your steps.

You arched a brow at him. "You said you saw me dance before. When was that, Jackson?"

He shrugged, his movements awkward as he tried to follow your lead in what could barely be called a dance. "Once, in the Aphrodite cabin. One of your sisters was teaching you, I think. You weren’t terrible."

You scoffed, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. "So, you spy. How flattering."

"It’s not spying if it’s not intentional," he shot back, rolling his eyes, though the smirk never left his face.

His hands remained where they were—one on your waist, the other holding yours—as he led you in graceless, offbeat turns. You were pretty sure any child of Apollo watching would throw themselves into the sea from secondhand embarrassment. But Percy was right about one thing: he managed to make you laugh.

"Gods, you are awful at this," you wheezed between laughs, nearly tripping over his feet.

"I know," he said, all mock pride. "But at least you’re not crying anymore."

You froze. The laughter died on your lips, but the warmth in your chest did not. Percy stilled too, still holding your hand.

His eyes—those damn eyes—softened. And right then, with the salty breeze in the air and the waves crashing in the background, you knew you were screwed.

Percy Jackson had just made you forget your pain with nothing but a smile. Gods, what the hell was wrong with you? You didn’t even like Percy.

After a while, he started to catch the rhythm, the stumbles growing fewer.

"Like this?" he asked, voice quieter.

"Just like that," you answered.

A week later, the son of Ares woke up in the infirmary with no particular desire to go near water ever again.

ꪆৎ. Hope you guys liked it !

[slytherinzz]

A Gaunt arrangement

Hello everyone,

I got this prompt in my request and kind of got carried away a little bit, I feel like there is more to write about this story!

I hope you all enjoy and my request are still open, I do so enjoy writing your ideas.

Prompt: Heyy please do a ominis angst to happy ending, where we are the mc and its maybe sixth or seventh year (established relationship) but he's been close to another girl for a while so mc gets jealous and insecure. You can choose how the story goes but i NEED SOME GOOD ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING PLEASEEEE

💫 Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC (named Olivia, but feel free to self-insert!)

⚠️ Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Please leave a comment, that motivates me greatly.

I’ve never been the jealous type.

Truly, I haven’t.

When I was dating Garreth Weasley in fifth year, and he cozied up to Imelda Reyes after a Quidditch match, I thought nothing of it. Free will is important, I told myself. But then I found them shagging in the dressing rooms a few days later, and my world shattered.

Since then, I’ve tried my best not to let past betrayals cloud my judgment. 

But watching her—Eleanor fucking Rosier—lean into Ominis, brush her delicate hand along his sleeve as she whispered something in his ear…

It made my stomach twist painfully.

She was always around. A perfectly bred, poised, pure-blood princess. We had been in the same year since first year, but suddenly, now in our seventh, she had attached herself to Ominis like a sickeningly charming parasite.

And worse?

He let her.

I knew Ominis. Knew the way his lips curled in irritation when someone invaded his space, the way his fingers twitched when he wanted to pull away. But with her? He didn’t.

A shrill laugh rang through the Great Hall, and my gaze snapped to the Slytherin table. There she was, sitting beside him, practically pressed against his side. And Ominis? He looked… blank.

Not uncomfortable. Not anything.

“Are you even listening?”

Poppy’s voice dragged me back to reality. She had been rambling about a rumored phoenix sighting near the Forbidden Forest, but I hadn’t heard a single word.

I blinked, realizing I had been glaring across the hall, my untouched pumpkin juice growing room temperature beside me.

"Sorry," I muttered, forcing myself to look away. "What were you saying?"

Sebastian, sitting across from me, followed my gaze. He sighed, setting his fork down with a dull clatter.

"Just go talk to him."

"There's nothing to talk about." I stabbed my eggs harder than necessary.

Sebastian scoffed. "Right, because brooding and sulking is a much more mature approach."

I glared. "He's the one acting different, not me."

"You know Ominis," Sebastian said, leaning forward. His voice softened. "If he's keeping close to her, there’s a reason."

I hated that he was making sense.

But I hated even more that Ominis hadn’t spoken to me properly in weeks.

He was mine. We had been through heaven and hell together. From reluctant allies to friends to lovers to… this.

I had held him on nights when his nightmares were too much to bear. I had taken care of him when his family pushed him to the breaking point. We had shared everything.

And yet, now?

He was slipping through my fingers.

I tried to ignore it.

Tried to tell myself that Ominis wasn’t avoiding me. That I was being dramatic, insecure, paranoid.

But then he stopped meeting me in the Undercroft, like we did every night.

At first, I assumed he had gotten caught up in prefect duties, but night after night passed, and still—nothing.

It wasn’t until I caught him alone in the Astronomy Tower that I snapped.

"You’re avoiding me."

Ominis turned at the sound of my voice, his expression unreadable. The moonlight carved soft shadows along his sharp features, but there was no warmth in his gaze.

"I’m not," he said simply.

Liar.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t respond.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "Is it her?"

He froze. "What?"

"Eleanor." I took a step closer, watching his face carefully. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Ominis remained silent.

"You spend all your time with her," I continued, my voice wobbling despite myself. "You listen to her. You let her touch you."

That last sentence stung.

Ominis hated touch. It took months for him to let me in. I had been patient. I had taken my time, waiting until he felt safe enough to reach for me.

Now, he let her do it so freely.

"I don’t—" he started, but stopped himself.

"Why?" My voice cracked. "Why won’t you talk to me? What’s changed?"

Ominis turned away, running a hand through his platinum hair. His posture was rigid.

"You wouldn’t understand," he muttered.

I scoffed. "Try me."

A silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, finally, he spoke.

"My father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He… set up an arrangement."

My breath caught in my throat.

"What?"

Ominis swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into fists.

"I’m betrothed."

It felt like the floor had been yanked out from under me.

He kept going, his voice hollow. "Eleanor’s father is close to mine. If I don’t… cooperate, if I don’t spend time with her, they’ll make sure I regret it."

I stared at him, disbelief crashing over me like a wave.

"You—You’re saying they’ll hurt you?" My voice trembled.

A bitter smile twisted his lips. "They already have."

I sucked in a shaky breath, eyes darting over him desperately as if I could see the damage they had done.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" I whispered.

Ominis laughed softly—but it wasn’t real. It was sharp, pained, hopeless.

"Because I knew what you’d do." His pale eyes—those beautiful, haunted eyes—found mine. "You’d try to stop it. And if you tried… they’d hurt you too."

Tears burned at my eyes.

I wanted to tell him I didn’t care. That I would go to war against the Gaunts if it meant keeping him safe.

But then I looked at him. Really looked at him.

And I realized…

He was terrified.

Not for himself.

For me.

"Ominis," I choked, stepping closer. "I don’t—There has to be another way—"

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"I can handle it," he murmured. "I just need you to… trust me."

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"How can I, when it feels like I’m losing you?"

Ominis reached for me then, finally, his fingers grazing mine. It wasn’t enough.

"It’s not forever," he whispered. "It can’t be."

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the sob rising in my throat.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

As long as the Gaunts had control over him, this wasn’t something we could fight.

And that terrified me.

The days that followed were torture.

Ominis still spent time with Eleanor, still walked beside her in the corridors, still let her touch his arm as if it meant nothing. But now I knew why.

Now I saw it differently.

His posture was stiff every time she spoke to him. His hands trembled slightly when he thought no one was looking. And the worst part?

He barely spoke to me.

Not because he didn’t want to—but because he was protecting me.

But what he didn’t realize was that his silence was hurting me more than the Gaunts ever could.

I found him in the library late one evening, tucked away in the farthest corner, a single candle flickering beside him. He was hunched over, one hand gripping his wand, the other clutching his ribs. 

I froze.

"Ominis?"

He stiffened at my voice, his head tilting slightly. He hadn’t heard me approach.

"You shouldn’t be here," he muttered.

My chest tightened. "You’re hurt."

Ominis didn’t respond. But as I stepped closer, I saw it. The way his breathing was uneven, the way he flinched just slightly when he adjusted his posture.

I dropped into the seat beside him and reached out instinctively, fingertips grazing the fabric of his robes.

He flinched.

My heart shattered.

"Let me see," I whispered.

Ominis sighed heavily, as if every part of him was breaking under the weight of this secret. Then, without a word, he unbuttoned the top of his vest and pulled up his shirt.

I had to bite back a gasp.

Bruises. Deep, ugly, fresh. Dark purple and yellow, spreading across his ribs like an artist’s cruel brushstrokes.

I felt sick.

"How?" My voice shook as I reached out, fingers hovering over his skin. "When?"

Ominis swallowed. "I got another letter. I didn’t… respond the way they wanted. They summoned me home, like a fucking puppet"

My hands curled into fists.

His family did this to him. His own blood.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to breathe through the absolute rage coursing through me. Then I stood abruptly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him up.

"O-Olivia—?"

"Come with me."

He hesitated but didn’t resist.

We slipped out of the library, down the dim corridors, and through the tapestry leading to the Undercroft. Our place.

The moment we were inside, I turned to face him.

"This has to stop."

Ominis exhaled sharply, running a shaking hand through his platinum hair.

"You think I don’t know that?" he whispered. "You think I don’t want to—" He cut himself off, turning his face away.

"Then let’s end it," I pleaded. "Together. I don’t care about your family, Ominis. I don’t care about the Gaunt name or their stupid, twisted rules. If they cut you off, fine. Let them. You’re more than their legacy."

His breath hitched.

"You think it’s that easy?" His voice was bitter, laced with exhaustion. "If I walk away, I have nothing. No home. No name. I’m just… gone."

I grabbed his hands, gripping them tightly. "You will always have me."

Ominis stood completely still. His fingers twitched in my grasp, as if he were memorizing the feeling.

Then, slowly, he squeezed back.

"...Say that again."

I stepped closer. "You have me. You will always have me."

His breath shuddered.

Then, without warning, he crashed into me.

His arms wrapped around me, desperate, unrelenting. His forehead pressed against my shoulder, his entire body shaking.

I held him just as tightly, running my fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses to his temple and then finding my lips. It was soft and tender, but the kiss grew desperate and hungry. Finally, I had him all to myself again and I loved every second of it.

For the first time in weeks, Ominis wasn’t holding back.

"I don’t want to do this anymore," he whispered, voice cracking. "I don’t want to pretend. I don’t want to let them control me."

I pulled back just enough to cup his face, thumb brushing against his cheek.

"Then we fight," I said firmly. "We tell them no. We end it. Together."

A tear slipped down his cheek.

Ominis Gaunt never cried.

But now? He let me see him.

He leaned forward, and I met him halfway, our lips crashing together again

It was desperate, raw, full of every unsaid word, every moment that Elanor had stolen from us.

When we finally pulled away, breathless, I pressed my forehead against his.

"No more hiding," I whispered.

Ominis let out a shaky laugh, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.

"No more hiding."

And in that moment, I knew.

We had already won.

[xcaffeineandcuddlesx]

♬ i bet on losing dogs - mitski, your best american girl - mitski ♬

- evening, the undercroft -

“do you… think i’m good?”

the question stuns me. it’s not perplexing, nor unsurprising, but i’ve never considered it. of course, objectively, i believe he’s good. he’s sebastian sallow, for merlin’s sake. headstrong and making sacrifice after sacrifice even if it’s not his own because he’s relentless, driven by love. he’s always had good intentions no matter how he achieved what he wanted. even if it meant lying to his best friend. even if that meant manipulating people like me. even if it meant killing his uncle.

“i’m sorry?” i ask in return, unsure if i heard it correctly.

how could i not? it’s silent otherwise. merely a low crackle of a fire in the undercroft’s makeshift hearth and a ticking clock somewhere, but it’s just us. I shift to face him more directly as we lounge on a sofa, the tall stacks of books and some miscellaneous homework long forgotten as we had drifted into thoughtful silence.

i can see the misery, though. his downcast eyes being filled with such despair, such conflict.

“please, i need you to be honest with me. am i good?… am i a good person?” his voice cracks and it’s a painful reminder that things weren’t supposed to happen as they did. not that either of us needed another reminder.

the end of our fifth year is coming too quickly to an end. the classes are becoming shorter, more of a blur as the days fade away like smoke in the wind. it’s disorientating and the disassociation we’re experiencing is weighing heavily on every aspect of our lives. most days, it’s like i’m floating through the halls, like i’m in a weird sensory deprived dream as the faces and voices turn unrecognizable, like muffled buzzing, not even sure of the day of the week. the o.w.l.s came and went, i think, and now the both of us are left wandering the castle, trying to pick up the broken pieces of our youth.

the students are ecstatic about the upcoming summer, and every mention of their plans gouges a small part of me out, carving deep until i’m hollow. i hear them talk over meals about their family’s summer houses or trips they’ve planned, the promises of exchanged owls and slumber parties. all the while, i’m being congratulated by faces i’m not even sure i’ve seen.

my first year introduced into a world of whimsy and i become the “hero of hogwarts”. most have no idea the things i had to do to earn such a title. it’s made me sick. physically, mentally, emotionally sick. the late nights, overloaded course work, expectations, favors, expeditions with classmates, watching the cruelty of poachers, raids, battles, trials, death threats from adults in full confidence of them knowing i’m only a student, the blood on my hands.

i couldn’t just stop it once i had begun. i couldn’t just return to safety behind the castle’s walls and resume classwork as though the safety of every man, woman, and child in the school, neighbouring towns, and highlands were at stake and i was the only one trusted to, expected to, and even capable of coming to the rescue.

i didn’t sign up for this. neither did he.

we weren’t supposed to face the world the way we did. we weren’t supposed to do the adult’s jobs, no matter how grown we believed we were. we weren’t supposed to be heroes, we were supposed to be kids.

that’s what we are; kids.

he’s just a boy. a crestfallen, scared, mournful, alone, and traumatized boy.

so now isn’t the time to define what “good” means or to explain that the world isn’t comprised of black and white or “good” or “bad”, but of horribly muddied shades of grey that are entirely up to perception. he doesn’t want to hear about the intricacies of morality. he wants to be reminded he’s still capable of being loved.

i can’t possibly look at him the same way. nor can he look at me the same he did at the beginning of the year. i’m nowhere near a saint, but perhaps our histories is what makes us perfect for each other. after all, the pot shouldn’t dare be the one to call the kettle black.

“of course you are, seb,” i attempt to soothe him, mustering as much emotion as i could. he nods, hearing what i said, but not as through he believed it.

the conversation was difficult to hold after that. i knew he wanted to say more. he wanted to repeat his offenses and for me to kiss away the worries anyhow. he wanted to remind me of what he’s done and push me away, to self sabotage his growth to have an excuse to hide away like a recluse without shame. he wanted- no, he needed more. he needed someone, now more than ever. he needed me. needed to be told he’s human beneath it all, that his blood bleeds red the same as everyone else’s and isn’t tainted black like he believes. he needs to be reminded that he not only can be loved, but that he is.

it’s been especially hard since ominis has left us to our own devices for now, needing a break to rationalize his life and choices. neither of us can blame him.

i feel… nothing. nothing at all and everything all at once. i’m spread thin. i’m doing all i can to be here for sebastian and still preoccupied with my own life and loss. professor fig died. he died and i know it wasn’t because of me, but if only i was a little quicker, a little stronger, a little wiser. if only, if only, if only. i knew him for only a few months, but he’s been paramount to my new life. he was a beloved teacher that truly dedicated his time to the betterment of his students. i feel that his avoidable death is pinned on me. i was supposed to a savior and his blood has stained my hands like all the others have. what good are my abilities if i can’t even save those that help me? what good are they if i can’t even maintain normalcy?

nothing has been the same. not me, not sebastian, not ominis, not anne, not the faculty, and certainly not my relationship.

we’re closer than ever, i suppose, but how close is close when each of our minds are wandering light years apart?

sebastian fiddles with the corners of the parchment he’s been toying with for the last hour. it’s another drafted letter for anne. an apology, first step towards reconciliation, a goodbye, self-justification, explanation, i haven’t any clue at this point with how many he’s written.

he’s defeated and solemn, like how you would expect a kicked puppy to look: vulnerable and strangely still trusting despite it all. he looks the part, too. his close are wrinkled, eyes are sunken and devoid of the typical glint of happy mischief, cheeks stained with hours of silent tears, hair tousled, his nose reddened from the constant weeping-induced nose running, and lips chapped from dehydration.

there’s no book that could ever teach someone to manage this type of pain, this level of compiled guilt and shame. we weren’t born with the know how on gluing the pieces back together one by one when your entire world falls apart.

so i do the only thing i know i can to help. i take the note from him and set it down, the ink having long been ruined with blotched mixes of tears and ink, and pull him into a hug.

the sound he makes, heart wrenching, is never one anyone would expect to hear from him. halfway between a choked sob and stifled breath, he lets his face fall on my shoulder and unashamedly breaks.

his body convulses, racked with forceful and raw barks of pain.

i have to blink away several tears myself as he crumbles, what little composure he had left tearing and ripping at the seams. the lump in my throat is hard to ignore as i fear it may strangle me soon. he grips at the loose fabric of my uniform where he’s hugging me, grounding himself to the only constant he has in his life right now.

with one hand making small strokes up and down his back, i use my other to smooth down his hair, holding him close to me.

“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want to become a bad person,” he manages through shaky breaths and hiccups. “ca-can’t even go home now. haven’t got anyone else to go to.”

“i know, baby, i know.”

i couldn’t maintain a brave face for him and began to sniffle. we were a mess. holding each other and breaking down like the world was ending because for us, it was.

when it’s just the two of us, hero of hogwarts and brave (former) best duelist of the castle, we could let our facade fall away, knowing nobody else could truly grasp the weight on our shoulders. we don’t have to be a formidable duo when it’s just us. we don’t have to pretend like the other isn’t broken seemingly beyond repair.

i eventually lean back, letting him lay across me as he cries until my blouse is soggy. until he’s exhausted and limp.

i try to quiet my whimpering to not wake him, but i can’t help but think of where i’ll go after this. even if i do go back home, my parents wouldn’t understand, they couldn’t possibly.

i’m so different from the person i was merely a handful of months ago. my hair is shorter, poorly chopped after being singed too many times in battle, and my hands are rough with callouses and scabs. i’m unsure how much of my former self i still resemble. at the very least, i know that i have more skin covered in scars than i do freckles and that i have new muscle growth from the running, climbing, borderline parkour, and combat.

i definitely don’t think, act, or speak the same way i did before. i’m not the same bright and eager little girl my parents had proudly gushed over when i received my letter. i can’t go home like this and risk breaking their hearts. i can’t just resume my life like i haven’t done the things i’ve done.

i remember reading of a spell called “obliviate”…

not too sure what i want to do with this yet, but i have an idea of where it’ll go ! i have a bit more in writing, so it may become a mini series of sorts? i’m not sure how well i like this prompt, but i wanted to put it out there anyhow because broken seb is my emotional support animal rn.

please give any feedback and tips you have !!

there’s so much potential with both of their stories and i know angsty seb is popular, but there’s more to him than masked anger and guilt. he would be hardest on himself and begin a downwards spiral, searching for validation that he’s not as bad as he thinks he is.

don’t get me wrong, i love a good seb x mc that’s joyful and loving, but i also love to put characters into hypothetical snow globes and shake it real hard.

stay happy and hydrated,

xoxo ellie

[dr-spectre]

Hello!! I just had the sudden urge to rewrite Side Order, and i dont know if it was from you but i once saw a post about an antagonistic Marina being an interesting concept... but I do know you like Marina a fair bit so I was wondering, what would be a good way to go about it?

And I mean an ACTUAL antagonist Marina. Not Order controlling her one way or another.

I would also like to try doing something with Side Order's creepy vibe we got from the trailer...

"Like Marina a fair bit." Oh buddy, oh friend, it's more that just a fair bit....

I was actually gonna make a post about something similar like this, but since you brought it up, I'll just go ahead and explain some of my ideas.

It has been hinted at and shown to us that Marina has a strong urge to maintain order and keep the newfound happiness she now has in her life.

So what if this desire.... corrupts her? What if she becomes so stressed out and anxious that she descends into being an antagonist hellbent on making the perfect world? All born by her troubled upbringing in the Octarian domes and trying to make sure her life remains happy and safe. And for her Pearlie to be safe.

The dev diaries as well as Pearl's dialogue at the beginning of Side Order tell us that Marina after the Final Fest has been under a lot of stress due to balancing so many things and is suffering burnout.

Also Pearl and Marina do fight over music and this could have added to Marina's stress as well.

I think going about rewriting Marina Agitando is by showing Marina's stresses more clearly so that people can pick up on her motivation more. Also changing Marina Agitando to where Marina puts on the Controller VM willingly and instead of Order just possessing her body like a ghost, instead it allows Marina to communicate with Order and oversee the memverse as a whole. However because of Order's programming, they are more of a manipulative force, whispering and guiding Marina to what they want due to their goal of wanting a world under total order and "happiness." No stupid fucking "brainwashing" or "mind control" bullshit here. We doing something different. Order is just giving Marina a little push in a certain direction and Marina is going along with it because she's under a ton of stress and wants her life to be safe and happy, no matter the cost or how anyone else feels....

The developers did say in an interview that they wanted to tell a story about Marina getting lost in a machine of her own making and sadly Side Order doesn't really explore it all too well due to the short appearance of Marina Agitando.

All you gotta do to fix it is extend her runtime!! Make Marina Agitando a tutorial boss, but instead of you getting her out of there, you fail to reason to Marina and she kicks you out of the spire and it grows in size. And then you gotta go back up 30 floors while learning about why Marina is doing what she is doing and eventually learning about the ai Order. The final boss could be Marina Agitando and Pearl trying to reason with her and eventually break through Marina's anxieties and doubts. Marina breaks out of the Controller VM and Order turns into Overlorder and becomes the true antagonist in the end, feeling betrayed and hurt by their creator abandoning them.

Anyways. Those were my ideas. Much like Callie i do care a lot about Marina and thankfully Marina Agitando doesn't piss me off as much as what they did to Callie in Splatoon 2. But there's still a LOT of missed potential with an antagonistic Marina.

So yeah. Hopefully that helped your rewrite in some way. Hopefully.