#I have so many of these it’s embarrassing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ill0usainte · 2 days ago

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But, we friends thou? 3k+

pairings: virgin!caleb x virgin!reader

cw: unprotected sex, mentions of condoms, college au, corruption, nipple play, dry humping, messy make out, rough sex, choking, overstimulation, rubbing, loss of virginity, dom!caleb, hentai reader!caleb, cherry popping (iykyk), both are inexperienced, stomach bulge, creampie, pet names (princess, pipsqueak, pretty girl), edging, nasty sex, no penetration, squirting, mentions of blood, crying

Caleb is known for being the heartthrob of the campus. He's everything that people want-- smart, handsome, athletic and was rumored to be "big" down there. A lot of girls in the campus have been gushing over your best friend. Many have been saying that he sleeps with different girls everytime-- but was it true?

And of course, in your part you don't get the hype about Caleb. Yeah, he's your first kiss but so what? As his best friend, you both share secrets with each other. And one secret that you've kept about him is that....

He's a virgin himself.

As cocky as he is-- of course he'd feed into those rumors about him just to boost his ego. Little do they know, he's just a virgin otaku who reads hentai mangas on his free time. At first, it did bother you that he started reading those-- but as time passed by, you got used and even shared some recommendations you've found. And started having interest of his likings.

"Have you seen the new publish?" He asked, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls. You leaned your back against your chair as you cross your arms.

"Of course, the art improved a lot" You answered, crossing your legs while Caleb shows you a panel of the erotic manga he's talking about. "You bet! It looks so realistic!" He chimed, pointing at the part where the girl was getting fucked and you can only push his phone away.

"Seriously, be glad that some of our classmates went out" You scoff, leaning against your desk as you grab your bag and started putting your textbooks inside. "Come on, I know you agree that scene was hot!" He raise his brow to tease.

"Shush" You silenced him and he only shrug in response as you continued putting your things inside your bag. You can't lie but that scene was really hot-- the way that the guy was dicking down the girl so good. Makes you wonder how would it feel like if it was you.

Your thoughts were pushed away when he interrupted. "Oh, I almost forgot" he said, straightening his back as he grab his bag and opened it. "I just finished the manga that you recommended me a few days ago" Grabbing the book from his bag as he placed it on your desk-- and you were quick to snatch it. It was embarassing the fact that the cover of the manga was a girl getting railed.

Hugging the book against your chest as you glare at Caleb and punched his shoulder, earning a grunt from him. "No need to be harsh, pipsqueak" He chuckled, as he looks at you in amusement.

You whisper curses at him as you opened your bag wider to fit the book in but something suddenly fall out.

A condom.

"Wha-" He froze, as his eyes widened-- looking at the packet of condom over your desk. Your eyes shifted to him as you look at him confused.

You hum, and followed where his gaze was at-- making your heart drop when you saw the packet of condom over your desk, you quickly grab it by your hand and shove it inside your bag. "Haha- my bad...." You chuckle awkwardly as you sweatdrop, closing your bag and rested your hands over your lap-- eyes glued to somewhere while you pretend nothing happened.

"I'm pretty sure that was a condom...?" Caleb thought, sweadropping also as he cleared his throat. But at the same time he wants to push your buttons--to see where you'd last.

"...an interesting thing you're carrying around...." He smiled, making you uncomfortable as you felt heat rising through your body out of embarrassment.

"It's just something I bought out of curiosity....." You answered, fixing your skirt because it was revealing a glimpse of your plushed thighs. Caleb noticed how you shift--only makes him want to push further. I mean maybe something might happen after this?

"Oh...I thought you're going to use it"

"Huh- haha no way...."

Awkwardness seeps between the both of you--while you try to not steal glances at the male. Inhaling deep as you question him.

"Do you have one, Caleb?" You asked.

"Have what?"

"Well...a condom?" You whisper, loud enough for him to hear as you toy with the ends of your skirt. Caleb blinks as he looks away, leaning against his desk while fidgeting his pen.

"I don't...not like I'd have a chance to use one anyway" He joked, shaking his head lightly. You nod at his words as you pursed you lips. You can't help but wonder if all of those rumors about him is true-- about "big" he was. Even though you knew he's a virgin there's still apart of you that doesn't believe that.

Class ended early as you and Caleb walked together. Talking about the new mangas that were published while enjoying each other's company.

"I swear that old man should stop giving us new assignments everyday" Caleb sneers, putting his hands behind his head while walking besides you.

"He should, I swear I noticed his bald spot earlier during lecture" You snort, making him laugh at your words as you joined.

You were glad that everything went to normal-- that Caleb forgot about that condom incident earlier. You can only swear that if he brings up the topic again you would just dig your own grave out of embarrassment.

The laughters piped down and you both continued walking together-- your eyes focused on your surroundings while Caleb on the other hand is urging to bring up the topic again.

"Hey"

"Hm?" You answered, eyes glued to the path.

"So, that condom talk earlier.." He spoke, looking somewhere while you paused. Cursing at yourself because you knew Caleb damn well--if something peeks his interest he wouldn't let go of it.

Inhaling deep as you face him--he puts his hands inside his pockets and gave you a sincere smile-- not that smile, you knew that he's plotting something which makes your body shiver at the sight of it.

"If someone were to ask you to 'use it' would you?" He asked, tilting his head as he waits for your reply. The question makes your body heat rise as you put a hand on your nape.

Letting out a soft awkward chuckle as you look at him "That's way to sudden" You mutter, making Caleb chuckle as he puts a hand over your head-- ruffling your hair.

"Like y'know, the thing I read on that manga you let me borrow" He said and your shoulders tensed up. Glaring at him as you pushed away his hand away from your head because it was messing up your hair.

"Hmp, don't bring me into your erotic fantasies" You huff, brows furrowed while you clutch onto the strap of your bag.

But the thought of it sends excitement through your body onto your clothed pussy-- I mean you'd always wondered what it feels like getting fucked and would you waste this chance? But the only problem is that, Caleb.

You can't imagine seeing your childhood best friend dick you down-- but the thought of it. Too consumed by your thoughts, Caleb pushed the topic further.

"So, what do you say?" He asked, making you snap back at your thoughts. You gulped as you look at him. Lowering your head while you fidget with your fingers-- hesitating if you're going to do it or not.

"We only live once, so risk it!" The voices in your head said in unison.

"I'll let him use it.."

It didn't take long for you two to arrive at Caleb's dorm. Feeling nervous as you try to calm yourself-- while Caleb on the other hand was all chill. You can't help but feel frustrated, can't even believe that you're going to loose your virginity to this man in front of you.

But what you didn't know, is that Caleb was more anxious than you. You both sat besides each other over the edge of his comfy bed as you clear your throat catching his attention.

"So what now...?"

"Right-- Uhm" Putting a hand over his nape as his usual sheepish attitude drains out of his body.

"...let's get naked first." It's rather a command than a question--Caleb nods at your words as he chuckle.

Pouting at him as your hand playfully pushed his face away from your direction "...I don't want you to look.." You confessed, face flustered making him smile as he hums.

"I'm still going to see you naked later, y'know that right?" He teased only for you to push him away more making him give up as you face his back.

Pursing your lips as you unbutton your top-- starting from the top to the button. Your eyes trailed to the figure in front of you-- Caleb removed his shirt in one go, revealing his well built back. And what got your attention was his muscular biceps. You can't help but stare at it but you were interrupted when you heard him talk.

"Like the view?" He chuckles, making you roll your eyes as you told him to shut up. As you finished unbutton your top, you slowly removed it from your body--leaving you just in your lacy bra hugging your plushed tits.

"Hey"

"Hm?" You hum. "Can I look?" Caleb asked, moving his head to the side a bit as he tried to get a glimpse of you behind. You quickly used your arms to hide your tits while glaring at him.

"You sound like a pervert"

"Come on, princess" He pleaded, Your gaze focused on his back as you sigh-- finally giving up as you removed your arms away from your chest. The man in front of you then quickly shifted his body to your direction-- now facing you as his eyes trailed on your plushed tits. His face flushed as he licked his lips-- letting out a soft chuckle while smiling.

"Wow....I couldn't tell at all that you're hiding something like these behind your clothes" He remarks, making you gulp as you sweat drop. "Is that so..." You mutter, lowering your head as your eyes focused on him.

Don't look at him with those eyes-- those doe innocent eyes of yours. Makes him want to bend you over and just fuck you on the spot.

Biting your lower lip as you both stare at each other. "Can..I touch them?" He asked, his hands clenching-- eager to touch your plushed tits. You nod at his words, he had to look at you again to make sure-- his hands tremble as he reached out to your tits in display.

Palm of his hands came in contact with your plushed tits as he gently massaged it-- he couldn't believe it, he's finally touching a literal tits right now. His gesture made your body squirm as you try to bit your lower lip to muffle your moans. Breathing softly as your hand reached behind your back to undo the hook of your bra. Unhooking it in one go as your bra fall from your shoulders as it spills out your bare tits to the male.

His hands continued to massage your tits, thumb toying your perked nipple as you let out a moan-- making him startle as he retrieved his hand.

"Ah- sorry" He apologize, you shook your head and reached out for his hand-- bring it back to your tits. "N-no...you can touch them however you like" You mutter, making Caleb gulp as he starts to feel heat gushing through his body. You're definitely putting fuel to the fire.

Caleb is anxious as he continued massaging your tits with both of his hands-- thumb rubbing circles and pinching your perked nipples earning sweet whimpers and moans from you. The sight makes his cock harden inside his pants-- he can't help but feel aroused seeing you so sensitive to his touch-- so needy.

Your soft moans occupied Caleb's mind-- your moans can't even compare to those erotic hentais he watched, yours is too hot-- like music to his ears. You blabber words at him but he's not listening at all-- too focused on fundling your tits.

You can't help but feel satisfaction that you're able to fill his thoughts-- smirking as you look at him with your hazy eyes. "Are they your satisfaction, miste--?" Your words were cut off when Caleb suddenly lounged at you and pinned you down over his bed. Both of his palm holds your wrists at both side as his soft lips latched onto your tits earning a yelp from you while you squirmed.

"W-wait-..Caleb--!" But he doesn't budge, continuing to suck your sensitive tits as his hot tongue swirls around your perked nipple making your toes curl. His other hand lets go of your left wrist as he reached out to your thigh and places it on the side of his hip. Positioning his hardened cock against your clothed pussy.

Feeling the arousal gushing through your aching pussy as you feel him grind his hardened bulge against your wet clothed pussy. Finally removing his hand from your other wrist as it moves to your left tit and massaged it while he sucked on the other one. Your hands run through his black lock and tried to push him away from your tits--but he wouldn't, still latching on it like a hungry mad man.

"Ngh-! Too much...C-Caleb....Caleb-!" You moan, as your hands cup his cheeks pushing his face away-- he finally gives up, earning a loud 'pop' when he pulls away from your perked tits. Cupping his cheeks as you can see drool from the side of his mouth making you grunt as you noticed how he filled your tits with his saliva.

"Please..." He pleads softly, rubbing his cheek against your palm like a cat begging its owner for food. His muscular arms sneaks behind your back as he wraps it around your waist-- burying his face against your tits. Where did the usual cocky Caleb go?

Letting a soft whimper as you feel him grind against your wet clothed pussy-- shamelessly. Caleb lift his head up as he looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Wanna put it in so bad....but..."

"I don't want to rush you" He exhales, while your heart flutters in awe. Caleb has always been prioritizing your needs other than his-- he wants to make you comfortable, he's not the type to rush you to do things. You flutter your lashes as you lean closer-- connecting your soft lips to his, Caleb melts against your warmth as he relaxes, continuing to grind slowly against you.

His hand reached to the waistband of your skirt along with your lacy panties as he slowly pulls it down-- discarding it on the floor. Pulling back from the kiss as you both pant-- your tongue sticking out as a string of saliva connects to both of your tongue. You're such a hot mess for Caleb-- it makes his cock twitch even more.

"So sensitive just for me...."

His fingers brushed away some strands of your hair from forehead-- you blink, noticing a wet patch on his gray sweats, your eyes then trailed on the visible bulge in front of you. Making your wet pussy twitch.

Caleb is not experienced--but he learned a lot from those hentai mangas he read. And of course a key to start off railing a girl aka his best friend is to penetrate their aching pussy first. He said to his mind.

While you on the other hand was eager-- already wanting to be dicked down by Caleb. Want him to stretch your virgin aching pussy so bad.

"Caleb"

"Yes, princess?"

"Please fuck me"

His brows raise in surprise as he looks at you "But, I need to penetrate you first-- it might hurt if we're going straight at it" He said, tone laced with worry. He feels like he's rushing you-- he doesn't want to.

Feeling embarrassed as you looked away "It's okay...I can handle it" You whisper, your cheeks flushed red. Caleb is having mixed feelings-- he never seen you so vulnerable, so submissive towards him. He can't help but want to abuse the control he has over you.

He clicks his tongue as he chuckled-- grabbing your hand and intertwined it with his, kissing the top of it as his eyes locked on yours.

"You're going to take it like a good girl." It wasn't a question-- your mind goes hazy, all you can think of is being intoxicated with the heat of both of your bodies. You flutter your eyes at him and nod-- following his order like a puppy.

He lets go of your hand and slowly pulls down his sweats-- leaving him with his boxers, you can't help but look at his visible bulge. Oh he's hard-- very hard. You gulped at the sight of it, noticing a wet patch on the part where his tip is-- already oozing pre-cum.

"Don't stare at me like that" He snorts, grabbing both of your thighs-- hands gripping the plushed flesh as he placed it on the side of his hips.

Pulling down his boxer as his hardened cock bounced up against his pelvis-- your eyes widened when you see his cock in display.

You felt embarrassed-- those rumors were indeed true. Caleb's cock is thick and long-- you can see visible veins lining while his angry red tip is already oozing cum.

"W-wait-!" You breathe out when you see him position his aching cock against your hardened clit.

You both locked eyes-- his eyes were filled with love and lust while he continued on rubbing circles against your hardened clit using his tip-- using the pre cum as a lubricant to make it slippery to rub on.

"Let me take care of you..." He muttered, rubbing his tip against your wet pussy lips-- smearing his cum all over it. Earning moans from you as your toes curl, feeling his gritty cock run against your folds to your hardened clit. It sends arousal to your throbbing wet pussy.

Caleb lets out soft grunts and moans as he holds his hardened cock with his palm, pumping it up and down while pressing it against your clit-- making your body twitch with every stroke.

He fastened his pace of rutting his aching cock against your hardened clit. "F-fuck-- I haven't even got inside of you..and I'm already a mess with just rubbing it against your pussy..." He growled, continuing to rut against you making your eyes roll as you felt the bed shaking.

Breathing heavily while you endure the friction against your hardened clit to your puffy slit--a drooling mess as he mixed his pre cum and your juices together and smearing it all over your poor pussy.

Feeling the arousal rising-- you can feel your climax taking over, too overstimulated as you're eager to cum. But just right after you felt the walls of your pussy throb as it ready to release--Caleb stopped rutting his angry tip against your hardened clit. Making you whine in return while you look at him with your glassy eyes.

"W-wha- why--,?" You complained, looking at him while he brushed some strands of his hair sticking out of his sweaty forehead. Panting heavily as his gaze towards you darkened. He lets out a husky chuckle while kneading the plush of your thigh with his hand.

"it'd be a waste if I'd cum outside, right? " He whispered, leaning close to you as your perked tits were pressed against his chest. Feeling his hot breathe against your skin-- making you hitch, your ears perked when you hear him reach out to your bag placed over the nightstand beside.

Even feeling intoxicated, you moved your head where his hand was reaching at-- you quickly grabbed it as you pull it away from your bag. Making Caleb confused as he breathes.

"What?" He stopped reaching out to the condom inside your bag-- you pulled his hand away as you guide it towards your lips. Placing kisses against his fingers with your soft lips while you look at him with your hazy eyes-- just filled with words unsaid. And for Caleb it just translates into "raw, next question"

The sight makes him aroused as he shook his head lightly. "Too impatient? Bad girls like you needs to be punished" He said-- voice low and husky as he slowly pulls away his hand from your grasp and pulls in down-- tracing your chin to your neck.

You bit your lower lip-- you try to hide the fact that you're getting more hornier seeing Caleb being so dominant towards you. But your fucked up face didn't helped. You yelped when you felt his veiny hand grab your neck as his grip tightens--not in a way that you couldn't breathe.

"I'll make sure to fuck you so good-- shit, even better than the ones I've read." He chuckles, making your mouth agape as he pressed your legs against your perked tits. His other hand holds his gritty cock as he positioned it against your drooling slit.

Your heart beats faster-- too anxious and aroused at the same time, while you wonder if his cock would even fit inside your tight little pussy. Too occupied with your thoughts, you suddenly felt him push hit tip inside your tight hole-- causing your eyes to widen as you let out a grunt.

"ngh-! I-i...I don't think it will fit--! Ah!" You moaned, feeling him force his tip to stretch out your tight hole. His hand tightened more around your neck as he chuckles."H-hah-- it's just the tip and you can't handle it?"

"fuck, I wonder what would it be like if I slam my whole cock inside?"

Tears stream down your cheeks while you drool. Seeing him having a hard time pushing his gritty cock inside your pussy--earning loud moans from you while you endure the way his tip is stretching your little hole.

"'ts hurt...s-so much.." You babble, as you bit your lower lip. Caleb pants, as he slowly pushed his gritty cock even more-- your tight hole finally swallowing his whole tip. Even with just the tip inside of you, makes Caleb want to cum and make a mess out of you.

"f-fuck--!"

It's so warm-- he feels like he's in a kiss of ecstasy. The way the walls of your warm tight pussy is hugging his tip so good while it throbs-- is such a euphoric feeling. Shit, he can't even describe what he's feeling right now, finally having to empty his balls in a literally pussy and not with those hentai mangas he reads.

You cried out while Caleb drill his gritty cock inside your warm tight pussy. Both of your bodies tremble, his hand finally letting go of your neck as it joins to hold both of your thighs together and pressed it against your tits. You finally exhales as you try to catch your breath-- hands gripping the covers of the bed tightly.

"nghhhh-! Hah- 'ts hurt so much, I can't-!"

"Fuck!" You screamed, feeling his whole cock slide inside of you so quick-- tears streamed even more as you cry out, grunting as you felt the pain of his gritty cock stretching your tight pussy so good. You drool as you try to process of what happened, feeling a hot liquid oozing out of your entrance.

"S-shit, tight hole finally swallowed me whole" he chuckles, eyes looking down at your pussy sucking him. Blood dripping out of your entrance--just like what he saw on every hentai mangas he read, a cherry pop. His hand reached for your clit as he rubbed circles against it-- making your legs tremble.

"'m gonna start movin', 'kay?" He muttered making you nod as you swallow your cries. He leans close to you-- kissing your forehead as brushed some strands of your hair away. Forehead against each other as his lips slammed to yours. Pulling you into a heated kiss--pushing his hot tongue inside your mouth, as he explored every part.

You moaned between the kiss as you feel him pump his gritty cock in and out of your tight pussy. He was only pushing a small distance inside your pussy--trying to stretch you slowly before he dicks you down for real. You swallow his cock so good, he can't help but grunt each time the walls of your warm pussy throbs--on how it hugs his fat cock so well.

Angry red tip kissing the lips of your womb as he continued on with his pace-- you felt a knot forming inside while gushing an upcoming climax thought your throbbing pussy.

Hot tongues dances and swirls with each other-- leaving you both in drooling mess while you suck on his tongue. This was different from the first kiss you two shared-- this isn't a small peck anymore this is one nasty heated make out.

Hot bodies against each other-- you can't feel your juices oozing out of your pussy as it soaks the covers of the bed, leaving a nasty mess under.

His thumb continued on rubbing your hardened clit-- using your juices as a lubricant for it to be slipper to move on. Your body twitches when you felt him pinched your clit, earning a soft whimper from you.

He pulls away from the kiss, smearing your drool to the side of your mouth while you pursed your lips. Just right after that you yelped as you felt him fastening his pace of fucking your tight pussy. You cried out, your hands wrapping around his chest while you dig your nails against the flesh of it-- earning a grunt from him.

"fuck-- ha- how d-does it feel? Seeing your best friend taking your virginity" He snickered, the fucking is so sloppy-- you hear the sound of your pussy slapping against his pelvis-- causing clap sounds.

"'ts so fuckin- hot- ngh-- dicking you down"

The gushing of your blood and juices mixed together as he fucks it back in-- you can feel your climax on its edge, ready to release. You babble nonsense while you cry against the crook of his neck. Sticky body against each other while he plants kisses over your face.

"cum--! Cumming-!" You screamed out, tightening your legs wrapped around his hips as Caleb continued to drill his cock inside of you relentlessly-- stretching your walls so good as his cock fills every part of it.

You bit down his neck and cried, releasing your high as it squirts against his cock and pelvis. Your pussy is definitely designed just to be a cocksleeve for his fat gritty cock.

"hah-...cum for me, pretty girl"

Poor you, your mind is occupied of Caleb's fat cock. It amuses him that you're a blabbering mess-- just letting out words like "too much, hurts, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, cumming-, cum, Caleb" and he loves you for that. Because it means he dicking you down so good-- it made you feel like you're in cloud 9.

Caleb grunts as he felt your hot juices against his cock-- squirting endlessly as it drips down like a waterfall. He can feel your hot breathe against the crook of his neck while you sob, but he doesn't stopped there.

"d-dont be passing out-- h-hah..on me" He muttered, pulling out his whole cock out as he slams it back in-- he continues his rhythm as his fast pace remains unchanged. Fucking you like a dog in heat and like there's no tomorrow.

"no more-! Ngh-! Caleb--!"

He continued drilling his fat cock inside while your mind goes hazy as you feel like passing out. Caleb's breathing unsteadies, feeling his throbbing cock twitching inside of you as he pump it in and out-- he can feel his climax building up to his tip. His thumb pushed down his bulge against your stomach as he continues fucking you-- feeling his tip hit against the walls of your stomach.

The walls of your throbbing pussy tightened around his fat cock-- preparing for another release. He felt it too, causing him to let out a hoarse grunt as he continued to rut inside. "Fuck..fuck fuck-- I-I'm cumming, pretty girl"

"w-where-" Before he could finish his sentence you replied quick.

"I-inside!"

And with that, Caleb lets out a soft whimper-- shooting loads and loads of his thick hot cum inside your tight pussy, painting the walls white as he fucks it even more inside of your womb. Following, you release your high, squirting as it drips down out of your pussy--oozing along with his cum.

Caleb hugs you against him as his body trembles still shooting more loads inside your aching pussy as it tightens around his fat cock. You hugged him back, feeling you clench around him as your mind went blank--too cockdrunk to say anything as you let him be.

Let him give you a creamy creampie on your first sex.

He collapsed over your body, face against the crook of your neck as you felt his hot breathe against your skin. You squirmed as you felt his hot cum leaking out of your tight entrance--dripping down to your legs and to the covers of the bed.

Caleb looks over you as he caress your cheek, thumb brushing your eye as you closed your eyes--melting through his warmth while you softly sigh.

But oh...he's not done yet.

"Let's....hit it from the back. Want to see your ass clap, pretty girl.."

Don't worry, you'd get used to it. After all, that's what friends do.

This isn't proofread, sorry if there are mistakes T_T

masterlist

#lads #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads caleb #caleb x mc #caleb x you #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #lnds caleb #caleb #love and deepspace smut

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wizard-of-interesting-failure · 15 minutes ago

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"I was planning to test all the possible divergence points rigorously and in order, but I'm sick of playing this out the same way. Let's just do this one now."

"I- what? No you haven't, nothing else has been changing."

"Not for you, maybe- wait. How do you know I'm in a time loop?"

"You're in a time loop?"

"YOU'RE in a time loop?"

The space between you begins to crackle. Her face seems to fuzz into static white noise, as does the scenery behind her. You think you can see her mouth move, but no sound reaches your ears. Your senses are overtaken, and you black out.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

"You're in a time loop!"

"...what on Earth are you talking about?"

So much for that, you suppose.

---TOO MANY LOOPS LATER---

Your routine has changed from asking her out again to yelling that at her and leaving. It's a crowded park, so you get a few funny looks, but your sense of embarrassment has long since evaporated.

"How the hell did you know that??"

Your heart skips a beat. She stands there looking confused. It takes you a moment to realise it wasn't her that spoke; a stranger, someone you've never bothered paying any attention to, runs up to the two of you with a look of incredulity on her face.

The space between you begins to crackle. Her face seems to fuzz into static white noise, as does the scenery behind her. This time, you run.

It doesn't help.

---TOO MANY LOOPS LATER, AGAIN---

Paranoia has consumed you. You obsessively chart every movement of every person in the city you can, looking for the slightest deviations.

Finally, you find one. An old lady is running late for her doctor's appointment.

You tail her for the rest of the day. Almost no other changes occur. She still gets home and realises she's forgotten her keys, albeit slightly later. She spends slightly less time reading hunky magazines. She has dinner at the same time, goes to bed at the same time.

You never find out whether she doesn't realise she's in a time loop or her delay was caused by something else you missed.

---TOO MANY LOOPS LATER, YET AGAIN---

There's a car crash on the morning news.

There's never a car crash on the morning news.

The driver of the car died instantly on impact. The driver of the truck he swerved into head-on is baffled and traumatised. The whole day is a wash; everything changes, and you're pretty sure you know who the other looper was. Not much you can do about it now.

You sneak into the morgue anyway.

The man's body is in bad shape, but otherwise normal. What else did you expect? Yours doesn't hold changes either; only memories remain.

A thought strikes you. You grab a handsaw from a nearby table.

There's something in his brain.

You don't get a good look. The space between you begins to crackle. You swing your arm through it in frustration. Nothing happens. Another thought strikes you. You dunk your head into the still-forming static and black out.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

The hospital turns you away at the door. You start researching how to fake a cerebral hemorrhage.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

The ambulance quickly determines that you are not unconscious and show no current symptoms. You are held for observation and scheduled for further testing tomorrow.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You start researching how to fake a concussion.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You are not a good actor. You start researching how to safely give yourself a concussion.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

Ow. You start taking acting classes.

---TOO MANY LOOPS LATER; YOU WERE A REALLY BAD ACTOR---

They turn on the MRI machine. A searing pain pierces your skull and you black out.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You tell them you have a pacemaker this time.

A doctor shows you the CT scan results. You're ready this time, just in case, so you make out something large and octahedral before the static takes you.

The doctor doesn't seem to notice.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You ask not to see the scan yourself. The doctor describes it to you. She says there's a foreign object in your skull, but no sign of how it could have gotten there. She sounds baffled.

You ask what it looks like. She says she can't tell much, but it looks large and octahedral.

A beat passes. She asks if you're okay. She sounds sympathetic underneath the confusion.

You grab the scan and stare at it out of sheer spite.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You spend the whole loop in bed with a splitting headache.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You spend the whole loop at home with a slightly less splitting headache.

---TEN LOOPS LATER---

You ask if it would be possible to have it removed. They say no; your brain tissue has grown around it and removal would be lethal. You ask if it would be possible to just open you up and take a look at it. They look suitably appalled.

They keep you for observation overnight, for lack of anything else to do. You show no symptoms; why would you? They're still scratching their heads when you black out for the night.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You start looking for doctors who are less scrupulous.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You wake up in a back alley with all your possessions missing. You start looking for doctors in a scrupulousness sweet spot.

---FOUR LOOPS LATER---

You've finally found someone who won't ask too many questions when presented with enough cash. They tell you they can get a procedure room booked under false pretences no earlier than tomorrow. You start casing the hospital.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

Digging through the hospital's logs late at night, you find that someone was brought in mid-morning with a piece of rebar through their leg.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You track them down and set their house on fire at 6AM. The doctor says they can get a procedure room booked under false pretences no earlier than tomorrow. Digging through the hospital's logs late at night, you find that someone was brought in mid-morning with third-degree burns and smoke inhalation. You're not sure why you thought this was a good idea.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You leave a package full of money on their doorstep with a note promising more if they stay home today. The doctor says they can get a procedure room booked under false pretences no earlier than tomorrow. Digging through the hospital's logs late at night, you find that a kidney transplant was performed in the procedure room instead.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

Digging through the hospital's logs late at night, you find that a kidney transplant was delayed due to a lack of facilities. You find that seven other surgeries were also delayed or transferred to hospitals in other cities due to a lack of facilities. You find that no less than ten people were brought in mid-morning with various construction-related injuries.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You follow Rebar Guy to his place of work. It is an absolute mockery of safety standards. You watch as a crane malfunctions and collapses onto the half-constructed building. You finally dimly recall seeing a whole fleet of ambulances on one of your further-ranging walks, before you settled into a routine to give yourself something to cling to.

You sneak in amidst the chaos in an attempt to inspect the crane. It is buried and you cannot reach it.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You set the construction site on fire at 6AM. The doctor says they can get a procedure room booked under false pretences today. You knew this was a good idea.

Laying on the operating table with your skull cut open, the doctor describes the object. It is large and octahedral. You restrain yourself from commenting. It is metallic and smooth with no signs of joinery or any indication of assemblage. It is featureless save for one thing: A minutely raised circular portion just on the border where the object disappears into your brain tissue. He says it looks like a button.

You don't ask him to press it.

---TOO MANY LOOPS LATER---

You hear a voice yelling, "You're in a time loop!". You discreetly track down the source. It's not someone you recognise. You follow them around all day. They keep yelling, but nobody responds. You wonder how many times you were in their place.

---TOO MANY LOOPS LATER---

You consider asking the doctor to mark it with a scalpel or something, just to see if it carries over.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

It does.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You realise this doesn't help you in any way.

---WAY, WAY TOO MANY LOOPS LATER---

You ask him to press the button.

---ONE LOOP LATER---

You actively check the date for what seems like the first time in forever.

It's the same.

Your house feels claustrophobic all of a sudden. You don't know what to do next. You could get him to press it again, like that would do anything? You could get him to remove it, like that wouldn't just kill you, maybe permanently? It's too much. It's not going to work. It's never going to work. You don't realise how high the tower of your hope was until it collapses underneath you and you feel like you'll never stop falling.

You run outside and scream.

Heads turn towards you.

Inexplicably, they start clapping and cheering.

A man steps forward and offers a handshake. "Welcome to the loop, man!" he says.

You shake his hand dumbly.

He explains what they think they know so far. Everyone is supposed to be in the same loop, but most of the devices aren't behaving properly. Or the synchronisation is an off by default feature and the random overlaps are the bug. Or something about tachyon fluctuations. You ask what points to any of these ideas. He says it's baseless speculation; he doesn't even know what a tachyon is, he just heard about them on Doctor Who once. He grins infectiously, like this is a joke he's told a thousand times and he still thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. Maybe he has. Maybe it is. You grin back.

You accept some offered snacks and hot chocolate, and a pin with "JUST AWAKENED" on it in large font; it'll let people know to give you space if you don't approach them and help if you do, apparently. It seems like there's a whole system to optimally rearrange everything in the opening hours of the day, but when you ask about it you're waved off; worry about that later, you get a week to acclimate yourself before you start being asked to get involved in logistics, they say.

You ask after the woman who kicked off your..."awakening!", someone helpfully chimes in. Awakening. Alright, that. Several people recognise the name; one offers to go get her. You say to ask her to meet you in the park in an hour. They say sure. You start walking.

You see "awakened" people doing all sorts of things, but what catches your ear is a conversation with someone who is very confused. Not everyone is awake yet, you guess. It sounds like every "unawakened" person has a looper assigned to explain the situation to them every morning, although sometimes one person handles a whole group. Maybe they tweak the process over time to try and make it more efficient?

You shake your head; not time for logistics yet. Though you can't help but wonder who was assigned to you, and how many times they had to give you the talk. Would it be awkward if you met? Would it be impolite to seek them out? Have they- it hits you that it was probably the guy who stepped up to talk to you. He might know you better than you know yourself. He probably tuned that tachyon bit until you found it comforting. It really might be the funniest thing in the world to you, at least at this moment.

You suppress a shudder. It's hardly fair to feel weirded out, you think, then you think you've probably thought that before, here, pre-awakening, and you suppress another shudder. At least he gave you space to think about it all. It'll be better tomorrow, when you remember him, too.

You reach the park.

She's already there; she's wearing a different outfit than you remember. She's probably been awakened for much longer than you; she did seem to have her head on pretty straight about tackling the whole thing.

Silence descends. You stare at each other. You imagine she's not entirely sure why you called her out here. You're not either, until suddenly you are.

You ask her out.

She turns you down.

You try to give your usual response, but both of you collapse into gales of laughter before you can.

It's like a spell breaking. Fighting down chuckle aftershocks, you talk a little about your respective experiences. She hasn't been here that much longer; only a few months. Those are just thirty-loop periods now, with the actual calendar unchanging as it is. They keep time by memory consensus and post it up every day; it's probably correct, although the possibility of errors creeping in can't be completely discounted.

You both stuck to the rejection script, but for different reasons; you out of habit, her in an effort to control for confounding variables. It's weird, thinking about the same things happening so many times for completely different reasons. You wonder aloud about all the versions of you from her loop, this loop, and all the other ones. Are they dead? Did they ever exist?

She stops you and tells you to go take Existential Processing 101 during your first week before getting into this; with so much time and interest in speculation on their shared experiences, there is an extremely extensive canon of ideas and established reasoning to go through in order to catch up. Oh, and don't forget to check the loop calendar for the current date; that's your Loopday, and if you don't remember it then it's unlikely anyone else will. People usually regret forgetting, especially anyone whose regular birthday was lopped off by calendar standardisation.

January 31st. Ah. You'd better make a note of it, then.

Conversation gradually peters out. You get the sense she's still in a curious explorative phase of her own adaptation, and the conversation with you was a welcome novelty and diversion but she'd like to get back to her life now, please. You excuse yourself with a smile and a wave that she returns; you'll probably chat again another time, but it's pretty clearly not going anywhere romantic. God, how does that even work now with the infinite time horizon and lack of aging? Somehow, you suppose; if you weren't convinced that humans could adapt to anything during your solo looping, you certainly are now.

You spend the rest of the day wandering. It's a weird mix of the environment you've been in forever, things that you'd guess have to be put up every day, and things that you reckon were probably placed on a whim with the knowledge that they'd be gone tomorrow. It's not always easy to tell the difference between those last two.

You wonder about other cities, other countries, and the world. You wonder what they're all doing with all this time. You wonder what you want to do with it. Maybe they have a program for getting people up into space for a day? It probably has a long waiting list, if it exists. If it doesn't, it sounds like a good idea to you. But it's not time to worry about logistics yet.

You wonder what the thing in your brain is. You wonder if people know it can be marked; you think they probably do. You guess it's being used to store data that's important enough to go to all that trouble for. It's not time to worry about logistics yet.

You're assuming interacting with it doesn't crash the loop any more; you've been talking to people about it all day, after all. You wonder why that mechanism existed and how it worked in the first place; probably a safety of some kind and probably based on the thing detecting itself or knowing about another one of it, you reckon. It didn't trigger when you heard it described, after all, or when you only suspected other people. You guess it had a fairly rigorous proof threshold. As for why, who knows? Maybe your brain would have turned to soup otherwise. Maybe it would have made awakening too easy. Maybe it would have let you acquire ultimate mastery over time and dethrone the gods. There's probably been a lot of speculation already.

You wonder whether they've tried removing the device from anyone. You hope not, but you suspect it's probably happened somewhere. You're not going to ask about that until much later, you think.

Your wanderings bring you home around sunset, strawberry crepe in hand from a dessert stall you passed along the way. True to their word, the "JUST AWAKENED" button worked as advertised; seems like everyone's been where you are right now and it engenders a lot of sympathy. You wonder who makes them every day and how. It's not time to worry about logistics yet.

You follow your old time loop routine in the evening. It's comforting and familiar where it used to be a piece of too-small driftwood in an endless flat sea. It contrasts nicely with the massive influx of novelty that the rest of the day represented; you scarfed that down desperately as your hunger for it made itself known, but you can't feed a starving woman anything too rich or plentiful or else they'll get sick. You realise that's why the newbie pin was so important.

At exactly the right time, you begin to tire. You make your way to your bedroom, lay down exactly as you have for countless years now, and sleep.

---SEVEN LOOPS LATER---

You begin to live.

Being stuck in a time loop for so long, you remember it clearly. And the loop was on the day she rejected you too. You didn’t have to, as it will loop back anyway, but you responded as you always did. You can already hear her rejection in your mind. “Ah it’s okay I-” “Sure why not.”

#not wizardposting #writeblr

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obeymeluv · 2 days ago

Text

In Your Defense [PT 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw]

You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?

Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.

Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.

Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.

Happy V-day!

Riddle likes to think he's made great strides not being angry but hearing some utterly disgusting joke about 'how much do you cost?' sends him like nothing else ever has. This guy is tall and so unimpressive, so plain, so average that Riddle can't really recall him at all. Maybe that's just the absolute fury blurring his vision. He knows he's not breathing but his chest isn't burning near as much as his face; the heat is spreading quick and he can feel it in his cheeks and neck. Temples pounding, his vaguely aware of the growl bubbling in his chest as it threatens to slip past his clenched teeth.

Ace calls it his teapot snarl.

Before Riddle knows it, he's flown off the handle and he's going off on a rant. The whole shop is quiet, people physically backing away as he just methodically unravels everything about this cretin from outfit, posture, presence, delivery, unoriginality--everything. Honestly, he doesn't even remember everything he said. The redhead doesn't even tune back into the sound of his own voice until he ends the onslaught with, "You've just paid twenty thaumarks to embarrass yourself but that pales in comparison to the fact that you thought you had a chance with them. You should be ashamed!"

The man slinks away, sad little bag dragging off the counter.

Whispers and giggles diffuse throughout the shop. He ignores the looks that come his way, using the time to come back to himself. Riddle fixes his cute casual clothes, content with the fact you picked them out together. He catches sight of the matching rose clips on your outfit and in you hair and smiles softly. "A strawberry cookie and a cake pop, please." he clears his throat, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.

Sam had an assortment of sweets and he was going to capitalize on strawberry's popularity while he could. He saw you root through the display case, carefully considering the designs even though they were all supposed to taste the same (allegedly).

"Sure thing. Your total is 12 thaumarks. Thanks for stopping by Sam's Mystery Shop! Happy Valentine's Day!"

He hands you the thaumarks as you take the time to slide the I LOVE YOU cookie in his bag.

----

Deuce is an honors student! He is a good boy that's going to make his mother proud!

HE IS SO GOING TO PUNCH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS FACE!

His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his side. "Why, you think they're cheap? Something to be bought? What an insult!" his head snaps up as he stares down the slightly taller boy. Deuce's teal eyes turn a dark turquoise; the giddy glint of seeing you and chocolate eggs in one place turns to something sharp and steely. He hands the chocolate eggs to Ace, turning right back around to stare the creep down. Old habits die hard; he's grinding a fist into his hand.

"Aren't you the guy always complaining about limited time sales being unfair? Not my problem you missed the window." the guy scoffs, leaning back against the cashier counter. "Anyways," the guy tilts his head back and starts talking to you.

You look uncomfortable and angry that you can't handle this yourself. Professionalism and all.

"You may have caught the window but I'm about to show you the door." Deuce draws up on him with a quickness people have never seen. Not many people know about all the fights he used to get into. Gripping the guy's hair almost to the point of pulling it out, steering him like a panicked bull, Deuce all but chucks him out the front door of the shop. He turns around to walk back inside and buy his chocolate eggs but that spine-tingling feeling of someone fixing to take a cheap shot makes him pivot and nail the guy with a solid kick to the chest. The guy falls back on his butt, breath hitching.

Deuce scoffs and wipes his shoes on the step before going into the shop. The door is almost closed behind him when he hears a strained grunt. He's been in enough fights to know the guy is off the ground and making one last attempt to catch him from the back. More than done with this and just wanting his damn eggs and to say hi to you in all your festive lace, he shoulder checks the door like he's trying to shove Jack out of the lunch line (which he would NEVER, EVER DO).

The guy falls with a satisfying thud and Deuce tries his best to relax his face as he resumes his place in line. It's red from aggravation and the fact he's fishing for his thaumarks because he's forgotten what pocket he put it in. "Sorry about that," he tries to uncrumple the thaumarks a little before handing them to you. "And the face. My face. Not your face! Your face is fine! Like, you're not ugly! I just, uh--"

"Take the change, Deuce-y!" Ace is standing behind him, guiding his nervous body like a puppet. He makes Deuce grab the change and turns him around, shoving him away from the counter before he can make it any worse. "Now help me move this guy's body! He's out cold!"

---

Ace can only laugh when he hears that line. First of all, it's weak. Secondly, the dude must not have any faith in his game if the delivery depends on you being captive behind the counter. During work hours. With an obligation to be forward facing and listening to whatever he says.

"Why? You worried about your budget, buddy?" Ace laughs, hands laced together behind his head.

The guy snaps up, stick-straight. "N-No! I was just--" his face is blooming pink.

"People aren't products, bro. There's no discounts." Ace shakes his head.

"W-What I meant was, I want to take you on a date!" the guy turns back to you and flashes a big smile. All of Ace's pouty mutters fall on deaf ears. Not because he's being quiet, but because the guy is straight up ignoring him. He's not sure where the idea comes from--he'll blame it on an itchy hand--but he sneaks a couple of small candies in the guy's pocket. Sam's familiar top hat bobs into view, snaking around the shelves.

"DON'T FORGET TO PAY FOR THE STUFF IN YOUR POCKETS!" Ace felt confident in his sleight of hand tricks. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked NRC students. It's actually really easy to do. That works in his favor because if everyone can't get their story straight or agree on what they saw, he's a free man.

Sam materializes at the edge of the aisles and seems to stare into the boy's soul. "Young man, please step aside."

Ace looks like the cat that ate the canary as he moseys up to the counter and slaps the box of cherry cordials down. He buys a cherry sucker at the last second, not seeing it at first. "Thanks, Sweets!" Ace winks at you as he strolls out with the bag.

Sam nearly scares him out of his skin, leaning against the wood just outside the door. Ace finally feels the tug of shadows on his feet. "Speaking of sweets," Ace flinches and hides his ear with his blazer, groaning as Sam hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him into his chest sternly. "I understand your frustration, Little Imp. Young love is adorable in all it's wiles! But mark my words, Little Imp: if you lie about wrongdoings in my shop again, you will not come back. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Ace gulps.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Imp."

---

Trey isn't really surprised to hear what he just did. 'Boys will be boys', as the saying goes. Frankly, he's disappointed. He's heard smarter things come out of his little brother and sister.

He adjusts his glasses, mentally trying to relax the knot between his eyebrows.

Should he say something? Of course he wants to. It's you! He's been on the other side of the counter plenty of times and has had vivid daydreams of sticking a customer in a stand mixer. But, then again, he has a reputation to uphold and anything he does could reflect back on Riddle.

And send Riddle into a fit, giving him something else to handle.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd have the element of surprise. People--especially men--don't cook enough to know how much arm strength it takes to lift twenty pound bags of flour on the regular. Or the stamina it takes to walk said bags from Sam's shop to Heartslabyul. Even the small five-pound bag of sugar in his basket would suffice as a weapon; the sugar was packed enough to hit like a brick if he lobbed it.

Trey's running the options through his head, almost settling on just saying 'how much for you to stop?' when he sees the end of a sucker rolling between the guy's teeth. Too easy, Trey pushes his glasses up on his nose, hand hiding his smile and the quiet incantation for "Paint the Roses".

All of a sudden the guy is gagging and running for the door. You and everyone else are wondering what the hell just happened. He doesn't come back in. One brave soul suggested he had a really bad gag reflex and the sucker did him in. Only Trey knows it was a mix of sour milk and the pungent soy sauce tart nightmare he tricked Riddle into making once.

"Just this, please. Oh! And what Sam had on hold for me." Trey hands you the sugar, relishing in the brush of your hands.

"Candied violets and a bag of sugar. Twenty thaumarks, please."

"Thanks." Trey smiles at you, laying the sugar flat so his delicate, delectable candied violets don't get crushed.

"Thank you." you smile brightly, handing him the change.

----

Cater wants to gag. Normally Valentine's confessions are cute and IN THE RIGHT SETTING pickup lines are amazing. This? This is a tragedy. Mostly because there is ZERO chemistry and you look #uncomfortable.

He's big on consent since he's always looking for collabs and people to pose with on Magicam so maybe that's why this scene bothers him. Aside from the fact that you're out of this guy's league, obviously. Like, it's really an insult to your time.

'How much do you cost?' Really? You're #priceless.

His brows furrow, lips thinning as he wonders what to do. He plays with the idea of Split Card and creating a small crowd of copies to boo and jeer the guy but the store would be even more packed than it already is. Cater's green eyes twinkle as it hits him. Turning his phone longways, he zooms in on the guy and tells him to keep going because he's live on Magicam. "Don't worry! I've already got all the V-day tags on there! Everyone will see it!"

He's friends with practically everyone at NRC so this guy will be seen by everyone.

Something sick and unfriendly and satisfied swirls in him as the guy's face pales in real time. If he zooms in a little, he can get the beads of sweat in there. "I'll, uh--another time, okay?" the guy darts off and abandons his handful of candy at the register.

"Haul coming later! 'K, bye!" Cater sends a peace sign to the camera, smiling at his own face. He swipes the little chocolates into his basket nonchalantly. He's not even the biggest sweets person but those are his now!

"Gonna have a spicy Valentine's Day, huh?" you ring up the cups of spicy ramen.

"You know it!" he laughs.

"I get it. You have to balance out how sweet you are." you smirk up at him. "Twenty-four thaumarks, please."

#in love. #kiddingnotkidding. #sendhelp. #downbad.

----

Leona doesn't even know why he bothered to show up to Sam's. He could just send Ruggie to get whatever he wanted. The variety of jerky was somewhat tempting but he could just as easily take the bus and get a proper meal off campus. And yet, he stood there with a gloved hand in his pocket, tail swishing back and forth in mild agitation. His green eyes sweep over the winding line until they land on you at the front.

His cheeks warm a little and he scoffs at himself, pretending to pick through the hanging strips of sunflower seeds as the line moves. Every step gets him closer to this soft, powdery scent with just a hint of sweetness. He starts to blame it on all the chocolate and candy and sugary shit exploding out of every possible spot in the store but there's this unmistakable undertone of skin.

Your skin.

He's only caught the scent a million times while hiding from people in the Botanical Gardens. Or when he's forced to attend class, catching a hint of you in the halls.

Leona's not sure why he cares anything about you because you're not magical. You're not interesting.

You shouldn't be, but you are.

You're literally the only person he's ever met from another world. You have no context for the Sunset Savanna or the hierarchy of it. To you, everyone is impressive. He can be something to you.

Why does that matter? He doesn't even know. That's what he tells himself, anyways. You say you have no magic but Leona thinks you can read minds. The look you always give him isn't a pitying one, but a curious one that seeks to dissect him and force him to face everything he keeps shoved deep down inside himself.

Part of him is waiting for the day you pull the right thread and he comes undone in the way he knows he need but can't find the strength for. Somewhere in that knotted mess is his true feelings for you. The stuff he can't admit.

You stand admirably on your own two feet, roughing it out like Ruggie, but you're so far from the intimidating women of the Sunset Savanna. You're approachable and soft; you're built like prey but you have the quick thinking of a predator.

Something in your demeanor changes--your hands pause and flutter nervously--and he's on alert. He's careful to relax his grip lest he crush the box of protein bars for Jack. His ears sling forward and his eyes narrow as he catches that half-baked flirting attempt. Leona doesn't even bother to hide the sneer twisting his face.

Just the thought of you with that hopeful schmuck is nauseating.

Suddenly the scent of all the males around you is overwhelming. Disgusting.

"If you have to ask about the price, you can't afford it. Haven't ya ever heard that before?" Leona 'hmphs' triumphantly, one hand on his hip as he bends down slightly to stare the chump in the face. "Askin' about the price is tacky."

"Wh-what was my total again?"

All Leona had to do was stare at the back of the human's neck. Humans, much like prey animals, grew really squirmy when a predator stared at them too long. Or encroached on their space, much like he was doing. It was for the hell of it at this point.

Leona made a mental note of the guy's face as he scampered off like a terrified cub and looked forward to the day he could send a stray spelldrive disk in his direction.

"Hey Herbivore," Leona plunked the basket down unceremoniously.

"Hey Leona," you looked down at the random stuff in his basket, trying not to smile at what just happened. Something warm and--dare he say it?--proud welled up in his chest when he realized you were happy about him scaring the guy off.

The heart-shaped stickers he kept finding on everything when he got back to Savanaclaw helped, too.

----

Ruggie lived for the holiday specials at Sam's. He was a bit put out that he wasn't picked to staff the Valentine's shift but the in-store discounts were a small consolation. It'd be better if he could stack them with an employee discount but he'd take what he could get! His mouth started watering as soon as he entered, sniffing out deliciously fluffy donuts.

Hopefully people would be distracted with the lollypops and chocolates and leave his donuts alone!

He choked down the occasional nervous whine when people gravitated too close to the donut display, distracting himself with the decor and wondering what would be most profitable to flip. His eyes began to wander to the people in front of him; Ruggie tsk'd at how casual and unguarded they were. Ripe for the picking, he looked at their wallets and fistfuls of thaumarks just out in the open.

If he wasn't worried about being banned from Sam's and losing some gigs he'd--

"How much do you cost?"

EXCUSE ME?! Ruggie freezes, eyes going wide and ears twitching when he hears that. The dude said that and LIVED?

Oh, right. You're not a Savanna girl. The girls back home would beat him up and make him pay them to stop. Or just smack the shit out of him hard enough to put him in a coma. Maybe break his jaw so he can't drop anymore awful lines.

Women are to be respected! Not treated like something you can purchase!

Given that you weren't a Savanna girl and were bound by the rules of 'I'm currently on the clock', Ruggie took things into his own hands. You could just treat him later!

"Laugh with Me!" Ruggie hisses, backing into the closest display. It was a little bump to him but far more to the guy up front. He waved his arm around, skimming the bags of gummy candies while the guy at the register knocked down a whole tower of balloons on a stick. Bending over just enough to line the guy's head up with the counter, Ruggie lunges forward.

WOMP!

Oh it was so satisfying. The guy is hopelessly, helplessly stunned. He gathers his bearings and Ruggie slides his foot out; the guy loses his footing and slams into the counter again.

Only two times before he gives up? Kind of weak-willed, Ruggie thinks with a little smirk as he side-steps the disoriented guy and waits patiently to check out. Sam tends to him while you get the donuts he's been craving.

They'll taste even better because they smell like you. Happy Valentine's Day to him!

-----

Jack is usually very stoic but a lot of people mistake his stoic observation for irritation. He would blame it on his intimidating physique but he's not sorry and takes great pride in his appearance. He's a beastman--a Howl!--he's supposed to be intimidating! Intimidating appearance aside, Jack is also a very helpful soul.

A good boy, if you will.

The only reason he's in Sam's is on Ruggie's behalf. He was tasked with picking up a few things and was more than happy to help out his senior. They were from the same dorm, after all! Practically a pack! You have to help your pack!

He's not really bothered by the amount of people, more focused on keeping his tail out of people's way and making sure he doesn't knock anything over. All at once, the atmosphere changes a little. There's a hint of sour in the air and a noticeable hike in someone's pulse.

It's your pulse. You look...distressed? Why are you distressed? Where is the threat?

Whatever it was, he missed it and he's cursing himself.

His ears swing forward as he catches bits and pieces of conversations. Some people are complaining the guy is taking too long, other people are laughing at his crappy pickup line. Some people are wondering if it's going to work.

This was a weak display if he ever saw one. The guy didn't even look confident in himself! All of your body language has now firmed up into rejection but the guy's not getting the hint. He's trying the 'oh, c'mon!' thing his siblings do when they want to play.

You don't know it, but you've been feeding Jack when he trots by in wolf form. He likes to finish off his morning jogs in wolf form to really stretch his joints and obliques. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, him following the tantalizing aroma of food to your door. Your cooking is fantastic and while you don't know that you're a pack mate, you're a pack mate!

You're just a pack mate who feeds him and gives him occasional pets. And these to die for scratches that he'd kill to feel with his real skin instead of fur. Any touch would be fine, really. Not that you'd ever know.

Jack doesn't even know he's growling until people start moving out of his way. The growl crescendos as he walks towards the guy. Tail bristling, Jack opens his mouth to show off sharp canines. "Get lost! They're not interested in you! They're just trying to work!"

As expected, the guy tucks tail and runs. Jack snorts, licking his lips that have suddenly become dry. His ears don't know what to do, caught between catching all the murmurs behind him and wanting to press down in embarrassment.

It's quiet but he hears it. "Thank you, Jack."

"Don't mention it," he crosses his arms, looking everywhere but you as you scan his items. He was avoiding looking at you directly but he notices you slip a few extra beef sticks into his bag. He blushes.

Yeah, don't mention that either.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twstd wonderland #twst x reader #Riddle Rosehearts x reader #Ace trappola x reader #Deuce Spade x Reader #Cater Diamond x Reader #Trey Clover x Reader #Leona Kingscholar x reader #Leona x reader #Ruggie Bucchi x reader #Jack Howl x Reader #Heartslabyul #Savanaclaw

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beansprean · 2 days ago

Text

happy valentimes day :')

My Familiar’s Ghost part 91

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. High shot of the cage, the back wall casting a long grid shadow across the floor. Guillermo is still sitting on the cot, watching as Nandor mumbles to himself and paces around, agitated. 1b. Waist up of Nandor, facing away from Guillermo with his hands on his hips, eyes closed and face flushed. He psyches himself up, breathing deeply and whispering 'Okay, okay, okay,' to himself. Behind him on the cot, Guillermo is leaning his face on his hand, looking a little bored. 1c. Close up on Nandor as he whips around suddenly with a determined expression, snapping, 'Guillermo!' Offscreen, Guillermo startles, 'Ah! Yes?' 1d. Full body of Nandor standing in front of Guillermo, who is still sitting on the cot and leaning forward in interest. Nandor has one fist pressed to his heart and announces, as if previously rehearsed, 'It was very brave of you to express your feelings of love toward me, even though you had every reason to believe you would disappear and those feelings would not be reciprocated.' 1e. Knees up of Guillermo on the cot, looking at the floor while his hand taps nervously at his knee. He mumbles, 'Not brave enough to let you say anything back...' 1f. Repeat. Guillermo looks up as Nandor takes his tapping hand in his and raises it to guide him. Nandor replies, 'Then allow me to do so now.'

2a. Shoulders up of them both in profile as Nandor leads Guillermo to standing. The cage walls are visible behind them, as well as a ghostly blue version in the background behind the panels. Nandor raises his chin and holds Guillermo's hand up between them, his other gesturing vaguely as he says, 'I am much braver than you generally, so it is only right that I express those words as well. To you.' Guillermo smiles at him encouragingly. 2b. Nandor places his free hand on top of their joined ones and stares resolutely at the ceiling, cheeks flushed. He continues, 'I think you are kind and clever and have an ass that simply will not quit. So. I have many feelings. About you. One in particular.' Guillermo snorts softly, amused but fond. 2c. Repeat. Nandor falls silent, wide eyes meeting Guillermo's nervously as the other waits patiently. 2d. Repeat. Guillermo leans forward with a teasing grin and asks, '...Was that it?' Nandor cringes, face scrunching up in frustration as he snaps back, 'No! Augh!'

3a. Shoulders up of Nandor as he covers his eyes and turns his back on Guillermo, embarrassed. He admits, 'I do not have good experience saying these things.' Behind him, Guillermo shrugs with a sad smile and looks toward the ground, playing with his fingers. He replies, 'I know, it's okay. You don't have to-' Nandor interrupts him, 'No, you deserve to hear it.' 3b. Chest up of Nandor from Guillermo's POV as he turns back around and hesitantly removes his hands from his face, bashful. The ghostly blue image of the cage behind him begins to warp as a golden glow fades in. Nandor looks shyly up at Guillermo from beneath his lashes and says 'It made me very, very happy when you said it to me. Though it was not a very happy moment in general. And I...' 3c. Reverse shot, chest up of Guillermo. Nandor continues from offscreen, '...I want to make you happy. Even more than myself, sometimes.' Guillermo reacts strongly to this, rearing back in surprise. Tears spring suddenly to his eyes. Behind him, the golden glow strengthens and bursts, tearing the ghostly cage to shreds. 3d. Shoulders up of them both in profile, the background now cage-free in mottled copper and gold. Guillermo, smiling, removes his glasses to wipe his sleeve over his eyes. Nandor steps forward and calls his name in concern, one hand hovering uncertainly. 3e. Repeat. Guillermo composes himself and slides his glasses back on, saying, ''Go on, I'm listening.' Nandor smiles fondly at this, shoulders relaxing, and reaches up a hand toward Guillermo's downturned face. 3f. Shoulders up of Guillermo looking upward in surprise as Nandor's hand comes into frame to brush the backs of his fingers against his cheek. The colors are slowly warming. 3g. Repeat. Warmer. Nandor turns his hand to cup his palm against Guillermo's face and Guillermo leans into the contact like a cat, closing his eyes and nuzzling into it with a smile, his opposite hand coming up to clutch at Nandor's sleeve. Offscreen, Nandor murmurs, 'My...most precious Guillermo...' 3h. Repeat. Warmer still. Nandor has both hands on Guillermo's cheeks now, framing his face as Guillermo nestles in with a contented smile, eyes closed, hands gripping Nandor's forearms.

4. Wide shot, waist up, of them both in profile, a warm golden glow erupting behind them and washing away the dingy rusted blue of the dungeon beyond. They are lined with golden-pink light soft, warm colors. Nandor, hands still on Guillermo's cheeks, leans forward and bows his head to press their foreheads lovingly together. Their eyes are closed, cheeks flushed, reverence in their expressions. Nandor says, 'I dream of eternity with no one else. I love you. I am in love with you.' /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #mlm #valentines day #valentines day 2025 #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #vampire guillermo #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

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hangesophtalmologist · 2 days ago

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the weight of your world on my shoulders

lando norris

pairing: lando norris x driver!reader

tropes: rivals to lovers?, forbidden romance

genre: fluff, angst

synopsis: waking up in the same hotel room as your infuriating rival would have been so much less trouble if he didn’t make you feel that way… or if your team principal wasn’t on the hunt for you. And most importantly, if you weren’t both F1 drivers.

warnings: suggestive content, angst

The sharp rays of morning sunlight streamed through the gap in the hotel curtains, illuminating the chaos in the room. You groaned as you turned over, your face half-buried in a pillow, and blinked groggily at the unfamiliar surroundings. Beside you, messy curls were spilled over the pillow as a body stirred, bushy brows furrowing as the man took in the scattered remnants of last night’s celebration.

Your eyes widened as realization dawned. “Oh, no.”

Lando sat up abruptly, the sheet slipping off his torso to reveal his bare chest. “What the hell?” he mumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. His gaze fell on you, half-dressed in last night’s pants and a bra and his heart stuttered.

The look of horror on your face would have made him laugh if it wasn't for his own confusion. You yanked the sheet over your lap, shifting away from him as you tried your best to look everywhere but his naked torso.

“Yeah, what the actual hell," you repeated, sending him an accusing look. "Did we...?” you started with a frown, trailing off awkwardly.

“I…” Lando’s mouth opened and closed as his brain struggled to piece together the events of the previous night. “I don’t know. Did we?”

Your eyes narrowed, and a flash of memory hit you like a freight train. You had argued about whose room it was—fighting as always, stubbornly shouting at each other.

But the only thing you could remember after that was Lando’s clumsy attempt to unclasp your bra, his hands fumbling and his drunken frustration palpable. The blurry memory made your stomach flip, heat rushing to your cheeks in an embarrassing display of fluster. “You!” you gasped, crossing your arms defensively across your chest.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up, his gaze feeling all too heavy on your bare skin. “Me what?”

“I'm going to the bathroom,” you snapped, scrambling out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom, your steps hurried but unsteady.

Once inside, the door slammed shut and you pressed your back against it, heart pounding. This could not be happening. Everyone from your team principal to the fans would kill you both if they knew—but you'd have killed yourself first from shame. Lando? Seriously? Your insufferable rival and the cockiest, most arrogant man to ever live? You had spent way too many years throwing insults at his face to be found in his—or your—whose room was it in the end?—bed half-naked. Shame on you, you thought, I hope you haven't been this stupid.

"This is why you never drink," you pointed an accusing finger at your reflection in the mirror.

Intending to wash the hypocrisy off your skin with a cold shower, you reached behind to unhook the offending piece of lingerie, only to discover that it was still impossibly stuck. No amount of twisting or pulling seemed to work. So the failure of your attempts - having led the active participation of your coworker - wasn't due to the alcohol. It was indeed not budging.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, praying to any god in any religion to hear your plea and either unclasp this cursed bra or strike you down with lightning.

Outside, Lando softly knocked on the door. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”. Lies.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You opened the door a crack, still clutching the clasp behind your back. “Just a logistical issue. None of your concern.”

You'd rather shower fully clothed than let this- this dangerous man approach you once more.

His smirk grew, green eyes sparkling with mischief. Damn he really was attractive.

“Need help?”

Your glare was enough to kill, but the growing heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “Oh, you've done enough, Norris.”

He chuckled, gripping the side of the door and gently pushing it open, ignoring your protests.

"Come on, I already tried last night. What's the harm?" he smirked as he stepped into the bathroom, invading your senses with his scent, his warmth, his voice, and the otherworldly vision of his sculpted naked chest.

"So you do remember, you dipshit," you muttered to conceal your fluster. Still, you gave in, timidly offering your back to him. "I'm warning you, no funny business."

Lando’s lips twitched as he stepped closer, the air thick with a mix of amusement and something far more dangerous. You could tell he was holding his breath—when he finally exhaled, the coldness brushed against your back and sent a jolt through you. You cursed inwardly at the effect he had on you.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual. Then his knuckles grazed your skin, and it was like your entire body was burning in flames.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. You could feel his nervousness through the fidgeting around the clasp, through how silent he was—no jokes, no teasing, no comment on the shivers that kept running on your skin with each of his movements. Just the deafening batter of your hearts.

The proximity was unbearable; the air between you seemed to sizzle.

His fingers stole the breath that was caught in your throat as they grazed your back with more force. You didn't know if Lando was purposefully taking his time or if he was genuinely struggling, but all you could think about was his hands on your skin, his breath on your shoulder, and how careful he was, trying not to touch you too much and how close you were to losing your m-

“There,” he said softly, the clasp finally giving way.

You inhaled sharply, snapping out of your thoughts. Quickly, your arms jumped over your chest, clutching your bra, and you turned to face him. Shit. Your body was overheating and you feared you just made it worse. You couldn't escape his burning gaze. Lando was looking down at you with such intensity you felt like you were being set on fire. Again.

His eyes lingered on you for a long moment before he cleared his throat. “I don’t think we slept together,” he murmured, finally breaking the silence.

Relief eased the tension in your shoulders, and you finally found your voice. “Do you remember everything?”

“No, I don't remember much, but,” he clicked his tongue, a slow, cocky grin spreading across his face, “there’s just no way I’d leave your neck without any mark.”

Jaw. Dropped.

Your lips moved to respond, to curse his arrogance but no sound came out. Shit. It was hard to think when flashes of forbidden scenes kept inundating your imagination, and your heart threatened to burst out of your chest.

Lando, cautiously and almost predatorily scrutinizing each inch of your face, must have read your thoughts—something in his eyes snapped. Almost shyly—as if bracing for a rejection—he leaned in, his lips brushing your neck and sending you both into oblivion. Slowly, he kissed the skin there, searching for a sensitive spot. When you let out a small sound of pleasure, his hands tensed on your waist.

For a second.

Then hell broke down and it was like you had unleashed its wildest flames as his hands, once well-behaved, were now insatiable and eager to burn every parcel of your skin and hold you closer than ever. You gasped, heat flooding your body, your resolve crumbling under his touch. Your fingers dived into his rebellious curls, pulling him away and closer at the same time, earning a soft groan that reverberated against your neck.

When you heard him curse, you realized you could feel him everywhere—his warmth engulfing you in your mutual insatiable desire.

Then came the knock at the door.

As if a spell was broken, you jumped in surprise and pushed Lando away, your heart racing. “Shit,” you hissed, still panting while exchanging a panicked look with him. "What do we do?"

"Go open the door," Lando whispered back, his eyes wide with insistence.

"Are you mad? I’m freaking half-naked!"

"Me too," he protested. "And I’m not exactly presentable," he added through gritted teeth.

"You’re a man, you won’t shock anyone with your tits," you whispered-yelled, missing the point he was trying to make and pushing him out of the bathroom. "It’s your fault anyway!" you muttered as you locked yourself in.

Lando sighed despite the smile that fought his way to his lips. He scrambled to answer the door, throwing on a discarded shirt and running a hand through his hair.

Toto Wolff stood there, his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

Fuck. This was not his room.

“Norris,” Toto said in a measured tone, a lot less friendly than usual. “Why are you in Y/N’s room?”

Lando blinked, his brain scrambling for an answer. “Uh… it’s— I'm... we- we swapped rooms by mistake. You know how these things go. Lots of champagne last night.”

Toto’s gaze was skeptical, his eyes flicking to the room’s disheveled state. “What’s your room number?”

“I… don’t remember,” Lando lied, stalling.

From the bathroom, the sound of the water turning on made Toto’s eyebrow arch higher. Lando cursed internally—you just had to take a shower right now and make things worse.

"I suppose I would be wrong to assume Y/N is currently showering?" the German man asked sternly, and the question seemed more like a threat than an inquiry.

They’d definitely be both in tremendous trouble if any of their team found out about this night—even if technically, nothing had happened. Until three minutes ago.

"Ha, what? Her?" Lando faked a laugh, a tad bit too high-pitched to be authentic. "I told you, she slept in my room on another floor. This is uh- um? My- well, my girlfriend."

The dubious expression of Mercedes' team principal cracked into a perplexed one, a frown carving a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"Weren't you single?"

"Not anymore," Lando insisted, a fake smile tearing his face in two. "So, I'd appreciate it if you could..."

“Oh yes, of course,” Toto nodded slowly. “Well, I'll ask the reception for your room number. Don't do these... swaps again, it's inconvenient.” He turned and left, but not before casting one last suspicious glance over his shoulder.

The second he was out of sight, Lando shut the door and bolted for the bathroom, knocking urgently. “Y/n! Toto’s onto us.”

You emerged hastily, your hair damp, a toothbrush in your hand and a bathrobe clutched around you. Water dripped onto the carpet as you stared at him, wide-eyed. “What did he say?”

“He-" Lando's voice dropped as he took in your appearance, and he had to swallow thickly to continue. "He wants to talk to you."

“Great,” you muttered. “I can’t stay here.”

All sense of urgency seemed to have evaporated from Lando's mind as he tried his best not to follow the path of the raindrops running down your wet skin. “We need to get you to my room before Toto figures this out,” he finally got out, mumbling incoherently as he grabbed your arm. “Come on.”

You rushed out, still scarcely dressed, barely managing to slip on some sliders before you parted ways—you to the elevator, him to the stairs, staying behind to stall Toto in case he was already coming your way. As both of you reached his room simultaneously, you darted inside, locking the door behind him.

You plopped yourself on the bed, putting a hand over your pounding heart as you layed down. I can't believe I raced in a hotel in a bathrobe because of that idiot, you thought. But your mind wasn't focused on that. It couldn't stop replaying the moment his lips touched your neck - and you could feel your treacherous, treacherous body yearning for more.

This wasn't like you - you shouldn't feel comfortable being so exposed near your co-worker, shouldn't feel butterflies at the proximity with your rival, should feel regret about waking up by his side. But you didn't.

Your thoughts drifted again - maybe you're at ease because you want this intimacy. Slapping your hands across your forehead to slap those ideas away, you pouted, too confused with the external and internal chaos to think clearly.

“This is your fault,” you muttered, more meaning to your words than what he could understand. "I toldyou it was my room."

It was more meant to yourself than to him, but he chuckled nonetheless. “You’re the one who complained your bra wasn't comfortable to sleep in,” the driver teased, sitting beside you. "I just helped."

“Lando…” Your tone was a warning.

He laughed again, and your stomach tied itself into knots. You closed your eyes, trying vainly to distance yourself from him even if it was just for a second. But his arm brushed yours as he lay down next to you and it undid all your careful efforts to curb your racing heart.

Both of you knew Lando should go before Toto arrived - but you couldn't bring yourselves to voice it out loud. Maybe it was because you knew this was a forbidden situation that you couldn't bring it to an end, knowing it could never happen again. Your neck still burned from the touch of his lips.

It was so much easier to ignore the tension - masked by meaningless banter and insults - between you two when you could still deny how attracted you were to him. Clearly, you'd overestimated the power of your reason over your feelings. A romance between two drivers? Not. Possible. You knew it. But your heart wasn't racing for a pilot - it was racing for the boy you'd raced against for years. You'd known for years. And that you happened to race against still.

"Y/n," Lando said your name - but it was different from usual. It was like he was unsure of it - like he was tasting it for the first time.

Heart pounding, you opened your eyes, turning your head towards where his rested on the mattress. Your heart stuttered over the proximity and that flick of something that haunted his gaze when he looked at you. His eyes flickered to your lips, less than a second but you caught it and butterflies swarmed your stomach.

"I-"

The knock on the door cut his sentence short.

Toto again.

Your bubble exploded and you jumped on your feet, not noticing the curses leaving your rival's mouth.

"Just a minute!" you shouted across the door.

Lando reluctantly stood up, in stark contrast to your agitation - and even had the nerve to look confused when you made big, urgent signs at him.

"Clothes, you bonehead," you hissed quietly, watching as he jogged across the room. "No, not McLaren gear, are you crazy?"

"I don't have anything else!" Lando whispered back, rummaging through his luggage. "Ah, there."

He threw a jogging and a hoodie your way, holding a laugh when it slapped you across the face. Not resisting the urge to wipe his smile, you swiftly grabbed the slider of your right foot and yeeted it at his head, only missing because he darted into the bathroom to hide himself and stifle his laugh. You scoffed at his antics, quickly dressing and composing yourself to answer the door.

Toto’s imposing frame filled the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice clipped. “I had trouble finding you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you leaned casually against the doorframe, displaying an annoyed expression. "This little- Norris insisted my room was his, so I had to swap if I wanted to get a few hours of sleep."

Toto’s sharp eyes scanned the room behind you. “Is that so?”

“Yep!” you said quickly, your voice a little too chipper.

The man stepped forward, and you had no choice but to let him in. You watched as his gaze fell on the bed, noticing that it was already made - not knowing it was because no one had slept in it.

“I came to talk to you about a team meeting," the team principal finally admitted, visibly relaxing. "But first, this situation with Lando reminded me of something I wanted to tell you. I know we don't often talk about your love life and whatsoever, because I respect that you're a private person."

Oh God, end me right now.

"Toto, we don't need to talk about this now," you chuckled nervously, all too aware of Lando's presence right next to them.

"Please, Y/n. My wife has been nagging me about that dating clause in your contract. I want to make sure that you know I have no intentions of disrespecting you or underestim-"

"Toto, Toto." You gently cut short the conversation, harshly bringing yourself back to reality. As if a fog surrounding your mind evaporated, the consequences of your actions dawned onto you.

"I signed the dating ban because it doesn't change anything for me, and it reassures you. I will never-" you paused. The words had been carved in your brain for years, reminding you exactly what you were fighting for and what were your priorities. Yet they had never tasted so sour on your tongue. "-ever date someone in the business. I'm not granted the indulgence that men have. I have the burden to be irreproachable because I refuse to give weapons or basis for speculation on my merit to the people who want to keep women out of F1."

There was anger in your eyes. You were angry at the world for being that way, at Toto for forcing you to voice out loud the weight he knew you had to carry, at Lando for making your determination waver. At yourself for wavering.

Your tone was accusatory when you spoke again. "You should know this better than anyone. I have to be perfect, Toto. On every aspect."

Though if this morning proved one thing, it was that it proved to be harder than you had anticipated.

Toto sighed, crossing his arms against his chest in a disapproving manner. "You know, it is Suzie that told me to talk about this with you. Yes, I know what they have said about her and I can imagine very well what they could say about you. But this is not a realistic way to live your life. I didn't ban you from dating the rest of humanity."

Ouch. Didn't need him to remind me I've been single for a painfully long time.

"I know. I won't lie to you and say I didn't feel insulted by the clause, but I understand. For all it's worth, I appreciate that you made Lewis sign it too."

"Of course," the team principal offered you a gentle smile. "Well, with all that being said, I did get worried when Lando opened your door this morning. I don't know where she gets that, but Suzie says there is something between you two. I almost thought she was right."

You froze, an all-too-tense smile forcing its way on your face. "No way, we've just known each other a long time. I can't stand that dumb face of his. I barely get through the weekends, let alone-"

The sound of your phone ringing from the pocket of the discarded bathrobe interrupted you, and Toto bent down to pick it up. His shoulders tensed immediately upon seeing the caller ID, lips pressing into a thin line, and you widened your eyes when he held it out to you. Lando. Why did that fool have to call you right now-

"Must be about returning his stuff," you stammered, your mind racing. "Excuse me for a sec'."

Slipping inside the bathroom where the curly haired driver hid, you whispered furiously, asking what he was doing - calling you right as you were assuring your team principal that you never interact with him. Not answering, Lando blinked several times, momentarily stunned by how his hoodie seemed to hang perfectly on you. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly and muttering something you didn't quite catch - about you knowing how to kill a man or something.

"What?" you pretended to talk over the phone, shooting him a pointed look, growing acutely self-aware under his intense staring.

Tearing his eyes away from your figure and focusing back on the situation, he signed to your neck and when you pushed past him to look into the mirror, an horrified gasp fell from your lips. Your pulse quickened. If Toto saw the faint bruise - the hickey - there would be no saving this situation. Thank God, Lando had remembered before anything happened but still-

“You asshole," you tried to slap his arm, but the man dodged with an apologetic smirk. "What do I do now?"

“Relax,” Lando said quietly, barely above a whisper, the ghost of his hand hovering above your shoulder. “It’s going to be fine. Just… don’t let him see it.”

You groaned, quickly letting your hair down to cover the mark. But it wasn’t enough. You needed a solution. “Great advice, genius. Any idea how to proceed?” you kept pretending to speak over the phone.

Make-up? you mouthed, but Lando shook his head negatively. Instead, searching his bathroom drawers, he victoriously grabbed a box, turning back to you with a smug look.

It was box of bandaids.

You stared at him, incredulous. “That’s your solution?”

“You have a better idea?” he silently shot back, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.

Without waiting for your response, he stepped closer to you and gently pushed your damp hair aside. His fingers lingered against your skin, and you froze, your breath hitching as his touch sent shivers down your spine.

“Lando…” you warned, your voice a whisper.

“I’ll be quick,” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment. Frowning at the lack of light, he directed you toward the sink, his hand grazing the small of your back and sending your heart pounding against your chest.

You tried to give him more room by plopping yourself on the sink, but him placing himself between your legs and leaning toward your neck was doing nothing to help you both.

Yet, this time, there was something daunting about the rapid rhythm of your heart - like it was frantically chasing after something it could never have. The conversation you just had with Toto removed the blissful veil of denial that the night had tucked you in.

You had grabbed the doorknob of a door that was supposed to stay locked.

When Lando finally placed the band-aid over the mark, his thumb brushed softly your jawline, and you were glad you were sat because your knees nearly gave up. Finished with its task, his hand slowly fell to your thigh, burning the skin there. You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes to compose yourself.

Your resolve wouldn't crumble this time, you thought.

But when, determined, you finally reopened them, you weren't prepared for the arrow of guilt that pierced your heart. Lando's smile was stiff. Resigned. Accepting the wall you'd built between you two.

He'd heard you. Of course.

You didn't know how he felt or what he thought about what happened between the two of you. What you told Toto shouldn't really matter; yet somehow it felt exactly like when you say the wrong thing and don't realize it until it is too late.

You shouldn't feel remorse, but the aching pain in your chest looked a lot like it. There was no going back. You closed the door before you got to see what was behind, not admitting to him that you would have liked to take a peek.

"Thank you," your breath carried the meaningless words. There was nothing left to say. The silence had said enough. Lando simply nodded, his eyes full of the words sealed behind his lips.

You emerged from the bathroom, dragging behind a weight that felt a lot like your sullen heart, to find Toto sitting in the armchair, his sharp gaze flicking to you. You did your best to look casual, despite the rising tension in the room.

Toto’s piercing gaze immediately locked onto you, his expression unreadable. His brow lifted as an inquiry, one you deliberately ignored.

Taking one more second to collect your thoughts, you exhaled loudly. "Sorry. What was it that you wanted to talk about?"

Your team principal still looked skeptical but he let it slide. For now. “Be at the paddock in an hour. And maybe try not to get involved in any more... swaps with Norris.”

You nodded quickly, and Toto rose to leave. But just as he reached the door, he paused, turning back toward you.

“One more thing.”

Your stomach dropped. “Yes?”

“Do you simply happen to own hoodies from his merch or is it his?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

Toto’s eyes fell to where a logo was printed on the hoodie - a Quadrant logo. If you could facepalm right now, you would have crushed your skull with the force of despair. Since you couldn't, your mind raced instead, scrambling for an excuse. “I, uh… lost a dare. Had to wear his merch for an entire day. But I'll change for the team meeting.”

“Hmm,” Toto said, clearly unconvinced. He glanced at the bathroom door, then back at you. “Make sure you’re focused today.”

You nodded again, barely breathing until he finally left.

You sighed, leaning against the door and rubbing your temples. “This is a disaster.”

When Lando slid out of the bathroom, the same ache returned in your chest. You looked at each other across the room, feeling like you were across two poles of the planet.

"We're screwed?" he asked with a faint smile, his mischievous glint returning slowly in his eyes.

"Totally. But thanks anyway."

"Of course. Not like it was my fault or anything."

A genuine laugh escaped your lips, a familiar warmth flooded your stomach. Lando's face softened upon hearing the sound. For a moment, the air between you two settled into something lighter, the tension from earlier dissolving just a bit. You finally muttered the courage to let yourself focus on Lando and take in the sight of him - no matter the feelings that arose inside you.

He looked different here. Not just your rival. Not just your co-worker. Leaning against the doorframe, staring back at you with an intensity that made your pulse stutter, he felt like something more - something you weren’t sure you were ready to name. His eyes lingered, trailing over your face like he was memorizing it and the easy smile he wore didn’t quite reach the flicker of uncertainty beneath it.

There was no playfulness in the way he shifted, his knuckles grazing the edge of the bathroom door as if debating whether to step closer. You were all too aware of the distance separating you two - guiltiness gnawing at your heart. You felt like a hypocrite, for wanting him to crush the very distance you held onto so dearly.

When a knock surprised you both again, you were almost relieved, desperate to escape the web of contradictions you were tangled in. Lando, as if reading your mind, sighed heavily. His jaw tightened before he stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him a bit harsher than intended.

Ignoring the uneasy feeling in your heart, you opened the door with a forced smile plastered on your face.

"Yes, Toto, I—" You stopped mid-sentence, your words catching in your throat as you looked up at the unexpected face in front of you. "Oh. Um—Marc, hi."

Standing awkwardly in the doorway was Marc, the young McLaren engineer you'd befriended at the start of the season. His brown eyes widened upon seeing you, lips stretching into a genuine smile. "Hi, hey! Um- I- Toto told me I'd find you here," he greeted you, clearly nervous and shifting awkwardly on his feet.

"Yeah, there was a bit of a room mix-up last night," you explained, relaxing, your voice softening as you tried to make him feel at ease. No matter how terrible his timing was, you couldn't bring yourself to send him away. "How are you?"

"I'm good, good," he replied, but the unease in his tone was palpable. "Uh... sorry if this isn't the best time. I just—well, we talked a lot last night at the party, and, um, it was really fun. And I’ve been thinking about it. About you, actually... for a while."

Your heart dropped to your stomach, your smile faltering. Oh no. Not now, not here, please-

"I know it's not really... well, romantic. But I just wanted to say this before I lost the courage..." he continued as dread settled into your stomach. "Would you like to have dinner with me somed-"

His words died in his throat as the sudden sound of the water being turned on suddenly cracked through the room. Lando. You turned around with a gasp as you realized what was happening.

"Oh." Marc’s face fell, the realization settling over him like a cloud. He looked away, his cheeks reddening.

"No, it's not what you—" you started, but Marc was already stepping back, the hurt written all over his face.

"It’s fine," he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly. "I assumed- I mean, I should've known- I get it."

"Marc, I don't-"

"You don’t owe me any explanation, Y/n. Don’t worry- it's me."

"I'm so sorry, it's not-"

"Don't apologize, please. Let's- yeah I'll just go. Just forget about it, it's all good."

Before you could stop him, he was already retreating, throwing you a small, pained smile. Your throat tightened, and you opened your mouth to call his name, but the words wouldn't come.

The door clicked shut behind him, and you stood frozen, wishing you could melt into the floor. You’d never meant to put him in that position— to put such a kind and humble man through this embarrassment... God you wanted to disappear of the Earth's surface. It was all too much.

Frustrated, you stormed into the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed the door open with more force than necessary.

Lando stood by the sink, fully dressed, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows in that effortless way that made him look annoyingly attractive. The water ran freely, steam curling around his arms, though he paid it no attention, focusing instead on his phone.

You grabbed the faucet and twisted it off with a sharp snap. The abrupt silence in the room was deafening. Lando slowly lifted his gaze, his brows raising in mock surprise.

"Really, Lando?" you snapped, crossing your arms tightly across your chest.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his own arms in response, mirroring your posture. The sharpness in his eyes was new, laced with something unreadable—something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“What’s going on?” he asked with a nonchalance that only served to infuriate you more. But there was something in his voice—something dangerous lurking beneath the casual facade.

“Are you happy with your little stunt?” you shot back, stepping closer.

His smirk deepened, head tilting slightly as if amused by the accusation. “You did the same thing when I opened the door to Toto.” His eyes flickered with that teasing glint, but you weren’t in the mood to play his games.

You took a breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. “It’s different. And I was actually showering. Do you have any idea how that looked for Marc?”

Lando scoffed, the sound soft but cutting. “I’m sorry Marc discovered you spent the night with another man,” he said, voice laced with mockery and something darker - almost possessive. “Which you did.”

Your frown deepened, confusion flickering across your face. “It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

His eyes darkened, and he stepped closer. The space between you evaporated, leaving only the subtle crackle of tension hanging in the air. His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second before meeting your eyes again.

“Do you actually like him?” His voice was lower now, softer but strained—as if the question was something he didn’t want to ask but couldn’t hold back. His tone sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart slammed against your ribs.

A scoff escape your lips - the answer was obvious, but it was none of his business. “No. We’re fr-”

“Then I spared you an awkward rejection. I don’t see what you’re complaining about,” he cut in, the smugness returning to his features.

You pressed your lips together, your frustration losing strength as he effortlessly turned the situation in his favor. “It wasn’t fair to him,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Lando’s jaw tightened. “How’s that fair to me?” His voice dropped, gravelly and low, the weight of his words hitting you like a freight train. “Slept with me... then flaunted all the other guys you have? I didn’t know you were such a heartbreaker, Y/n.”

You blinked, your pulse quickening despite the teasing glint in his eye. He was toying with you, but the undercurrent in his voice held something else. Something more.

“Oh, I slept with you now?” you said, trying to brush off the weight of the moment with humor. “You better not go around telling people that.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, the flicker of mischief in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a frown. “Right. Wouldn’t want you out of contract next season.”

Your heart stumbled, his words slicing through the facade you tried to keep up. It was the first time he acknowledged what you’d said to Toto.

“Hmm.” It was all you could manage, your throat suddenly tight.

Lando leaned back, watching your reaction carefully. “Is Marc aware that you legally can’t date him?”

There it was again. The jealousy - subtle but unmistakeable. Well, not really subtle. But definitely unexpected - and you did not know how to deal with it or with how it made you feel. Wanted.

“I can date him. He’s not Mercedes personnel. Or... a driver.” The word felt heavy on your tongue, your eyes flickering to the door as if searching for an escape. "You should read your contracts more carefully, Norris.”

He held your gaze, something unreadable flickering across his features.

“I don’t have the clause in my contract,” he said after a beat, the words casual but heavy with implication.

You froze, blinking up at him. “What?”

From what you heard, most of the drivers had to sign a dating ban similar to yours - a subtle way of assuring everyone that they wouldn't date you more than anyone else. Assuring the sponsors that they wouldn't have to deal with an unwanted scandal or controversy.

His gaze was unwavering, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were daring you to understand the weight of what he was saying.

“I refused to sign it.”

The confession lingered in the air between you, heavy and intoxicating. Your heart thudded violently in your chest as his eyes bore into yours, stripping away any pretense you tried to cling to.

He didn't elaborate, didn't give you the satisfaction of an explanation. Instead, he pushed himself off the sink, brushing past you with that same infuriating calm he always wore when the conversation veered too close to something real.

He paused at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. His gaze was soft - understanding. But immensely conflicted.

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

You stood frozen, staring at the empty space where he'd just been, heart thudding unevenly in your chest.

It took a moment for it to hit you.

He refused to sign it.

The realization settled over you slowly, like the soft trickle of rain through cracks in a window. Lando had always been reckless, but not about things like this. Not about things that could jeopardize his career.

You felt it now—woven beneath his teasing words, beneath the irritation and jealousy. He hadn't needed to say it out loud.

You pressed your palm to the cool edge of the sink, exhaling shakily as your reflection stared back at you.

Lando Norris didn’t sign the clause because of you.

And for the first time since the season started, doubt tugged at your heart. You were proud of your sacrifices. But the what-ifs slipped through the cracks of your conviction, and suddenly, you wished you didn’t bear such a heavy weight on your shoulders.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #driver!reader #f1 x reader #angst #fluff #forbidden romance #mclaren #mercedes #f1

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sonrium · 3 hours ago

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After seeing the boy shoot what look like star bolts and green beams from his eyes, Starfire is convinced he is a lost Tameranian.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be hostile once he finishes with a strange piece of technology that sucked in a glowing creature while speaking a language Starfire had never heard before. Starfire flies over to him, excited at the prospect of meeting another from her planet, but as she approaches, he backs off, eyeing her wearily in the air. She tries speaking in her native tongue, but his weariness transforms into confusion.

She understands the problem immediately. He must be from one of the distant regions of Tameran. "Kiss. Kiss. For language, you must kiss." Starfire points at her lips, tapping them.

There was no comprehension on his face, but he moved closer, clearly curious at what she was trying to say. He must have been from the truly isolated tribes to not know such a basic skill.

Deciding a demonstration would work best, she takes his hand and leads him back to the top of Titans where the rest of the Titans are waiting.

Hearing Starfire speaking in Tamerainian, they keep silent and wait. This is when Starfire pulls Robin forward, kisses him the way she had when she first arrived on earth to learn his language. She points for the floating boy to do the same.

The boy is taken aback even backing up a little in shock, but Starfire repeats everything while gesturing more emphatically with each repetition.

Until the boy approaches Robin and Starfire, clearly absolutely lost and bewildered with the situation, but willing to go along with it. Before anybody can react, he grabs Robin by his shirt and kisses him. Everyone is momentarily stunned by the action.

Pulling back, he asks in perfect English, "So... why did I need to do that?"

"Why is it always him?" Beastboy crosses his arms, "Why can’t I be the one to get a little smooch action from a cute alien? Save some for the rest of us Boy Wonder." He grumbled.

Robin, cleared his throat, "It was for you to learn English so we could communicate."

"Huh? Why didn't you just ask? My English is fine despite what my grades say. I just didn't have a clue what she was saying.” The mysterious boy pointed at Starfire. “I still don’t get what the ‘kissing’ was about."

Raven facepalms without a word. Honestly, she should have expected that.

"You are a Tameranian, are you not?"

"What's a Tameranian?"

Huge shit-eating grins spread across Beastboy's and Cyborg's faces. They look at each other and not in sync. Arm in arm they start singing. "Boy Wonder and Wonder Boy, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G~"

Starfire clasps both of her hands over her mouth with a gasp. "I give you many sorrows, dear Robin. I believed him a Tameranian and intended to be the participant of the language transfer."

"No. It's okay." Robin tries to salvage what was left of his dignity, but it was somewhat undermined the red spreading on his cheaks and the laughter behind him. Turning to the newly dubbed Wonder Boy, he inclined his head. "I'm sorry for the confusion. We should have checked before subjecting you to such embarrassment."

A wide grin spreads across Wonder Boy's face, "I wouldn't call that kiss an embarrassment, but it definitely needs work. Try using more tongue next time."

Cyborg and Beastboy collapse to the floor in howls of laughter. They were going to be great friends.

The Wonder Boy, who they learned was named Danny, turned out to be a pretty cool dude. He had a truly insane number of powers, but he never joined in their battles. He mostly came by to hang out occasionally.

But his impact was always felt even when he wasn't around. Every time any of the titans spotted something flying, be it hero, villain, meta, alien, flock of birds, chunk of miscellaneous debris, one of them had to ask Robin if he planned on kissing this one, too.

Raven was the only one to pare him from this torture. That was until two months after the incident. They all lay in the debris field of one of their most difficult battles yet. It had been an incomprehensible mass of tendrils and colors their brains couldn’t understand from beyond reality that drifted across the city. They were all too exhausted to do much more than breathe and stare up at the reddening sky as the sun set.

The silence was eventually broken by Raven, "You should have used tongue this time."

Robin buried his face in hands letting out a sobbing groan. 'They have to get tired of this eventually.' He told himself. It was his only comfort and salvation.

They never did.

(the above is based on mine and a few other people's comments on the original post. I just fleshed it out a little :)

Starfire can learn any language via kissing someone. This is great news as the glowing specter teenager in the Titans Tower is speaking in a language no one can understands (ghost speak). Bad news: The team does their best to explain to the ghost this so they can communicate with him easier and Danny is VERY confused.

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #danny phantom #teen titans #starfire #robin #dp x dc crossover #kiss #bones prompts #kissing the wrong titan #lessons in not making assumptions #Why does robin get to kiss all the hot aliens?

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l3irdl3rain · 2 days ago

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did you ever decide on the round orange boy/1000$ for cat guy

I was NOT proud of being the person with 8 cats. Every time I go TSC to buy my 120 pounds of cat litter they say “back again?”. I don’t even want to discuss the cost of feeding this many cats. But perhaps worst of all was having to say “I have 8 cats” out loud. Do you know what is even more embarrassing? Saying “I have 9 cats” (this is all meant in jest. This is who I am. I’ve accepted it)

He got dropped off yesterday at 9am and today he had his first visit with Doc.

Marty is 11 years old and he’s weighing in at a whopping 17 pounds. He has IBS and a very mild heart murmur. In his old home he pooped (and sometimes peed) in the shower, which is why it was difficult to find someone to take him when his owner got sick and could no longer care for him.

We’re hoping to be able to get him off the steroid he’s been on long term, but IBD in cats can be so difficult. Our clinic cat has IBD and it took a long time to get it under control without medications. The heart murmur is really very mild and not a huge concern. And some weight loss should take the stress off his heart

He’s temporarily being housed in the bathroom but he came from a multi-cat household so I’m hoping to have him quickly introduced to my gang. He’s still very nervous but he’s very sweet.

#one of my terrible little beasts tried to touch his butt from underneath the door #so now whenever they stick their paws under the door he gets nervous and has to hiss #he already seems much better abt it tho. yesterday he smacked the shit out of Bug’s paw when she reached it under the door #today he just hissed and then went back to purring and asking for pets #my post #Marty

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thatbitchery · 1 day ago

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SIMPLE LITTLE EVERY DAY WAYS TO TAKE BACK YOUR POWER

Dont respond. Just don't respond. You can just give no response. Even when it's the good or right thing to do. You can just nahh. It's not your duty to do what's good or right your duty is to survive

Leave. Just get up and leave. Mid sentence mid date mid party mid get up and leave. You don't even need a reason honestly you can just leave. You can leave because the sun is a star you can leave because it's too cold you can leave because you realized you're made of flesh and blood just leave literally any time any where just leave because it's midday or something idk just leave

Reject guilt. You did what you did it is what it is. Reject shame reject embarrassment just heh and move on. It is what it is. Whatever comes of it comes of it. It went how it went and the world kept spinning. Yada yada all that. What next.

Validate your reality. Validate your reality. I told you what validation means. Exactly as it is.

Ask the question. Ask the damn question. Ask it. Chin held high eyes trained spine straight. Ask the question sis. And follow it up with another. As many as you wish. Invent questions to ask if you have none.

Just block her. And him. Just block them rn. How many chances will you give them to show you how disrespect is done? At some point - one of these days- you'll have to realize trading respect for attention is dirty trade, and then I want you to just. BLOCK them. On the spot.

Laugh. You know that "laugh in my face" saying? Try it. 10/10 would reccomend.

Boxing. Jiu Jitsu (THIS> ESPECIALLY THIS) martial arts. Shooting range. Archery.

Tell the truth. Tell the truth. Okay? Those consequences you're so scared of, they're weakening you. Tell the truth and step back, whatever happens happens.

Say exactly what you think. Out loud. EXACTLY as you think it.

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nanamisgirly · 1 day ago

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imagine nerd!Choso, you both are in the same degree. he didn't really noticed you at first but, for some unknown reasons, he kept bumping into you— wether in the hallway or you'd be few rows in front of him during lectures. And just like that, he developed an obsession toward you. and might god forgive him, but he couldn't help jerking off his cock at the thought of his length disappearing between your lips, eyes flickering up at him with a teasing glint. he was kind of sad you didn't even know he existed :/

but how lucky! in one of your lesson, the teacher assigned a partnered project. and fortunately, the duo were made with a randomized system!! Choso did not think twice, with some quick manipulation on his computer, he paired himself…with you! almost too easy

on your side tho, you had never heard the name Choso before. So when you reached out to set up a time for the project, you didn't expect much of it. But now…sitting across from him…his wide figure looming over the table, inked arms straining against the ridiculous tightness of his shirt…that was another story. How hadn't you noticed such a pretty face?? sharp eyes lined with kohl, two messy buns with some rebellious strands framing his beautiful features, and perfect dark purple painted nails tapping against the table. ‘am i blind or sum?’ you wondered.

nerd!Choso was originally awkward with social interaction but more so when it came to you. He clears his throat "I- uh," he started, voice trembling "f-for the work, would you like t-t- to…" his cheeks flushed an adorable pink as you stared at him, giving him time to formule his thoughts ‘such a cute boy’ you mused.

"we can do it at my home!" he suddenly blurted out, words rushed, as if the poor man hadn’t said it now, he never would have :( "i- i mean, t-the assignment! o-of course..." he was so embarrassed of himself, his hands nervously cupping his warm milk chocolate "if— if you want to.." his eyes darted anywhere but yours, unable to hold your gaze. not when you were looking so intently, like you were seeing right through him. because what if you had some superpowers, the kind to read his horny thoughts, the kind to know exactly how many times he fucked his fist to the image of your pretty mouth stuffed full of his aching cock. catastrophe!!!!

nerd!Choso was blushing furiously, messier, stuttering over his words more than usual when you were unconditionally giving your best to give the man a gooood ride. “p-p-please” he whined, voice breaking. You leaned in, your breath warm against his ear “tell me, my pretty shy boy…what are you begging for, hmm? use your words, pretty".

choso's hands gripped your thighs like a lifeline, fingers digging into your skin. “y-you— mngh, it's— it's too good. i can't last— i— please,” he choked out, eyes glossy as you slammed your hips down harder. His happy trail rubbed against your clit with every grind. the friction giving you as much pleasure as him.

“preeetty boy," you cooed, trying to maintain your composure despite having his fat dick stretching you enough to see stars. “is this what you've been thinking about the whole year? me riding you? or even better,” your mouth went for his neck, licking softly, contrasting with the pulsing grip of your cunt, milking his cock. "touching yourself to the thought of my glossy lips wrapped around your pathetically big dick ?" your voice was so sensual "tell me, tell me and i'll give you what you want” that man was moaning, the sluttiest moans escaping his throat. in response, your walls clenched harder, trying to suck him in even deeper at this point. “i— i was— i mean, i- fuckfuckfuck" choso were sur he lost the ability to form a simple sentence, his head falling back as he felt his tip kissing your cervix. but he tried his best to continue "i— i was…pumping my— my cock at the- mngh, thought o-of you..t-takin' me…d-d-deep,” poor boy was losing his mind. You've never seen a man being that pussy drunk, so openly lost into you, that was addicting.

your fingers trailed over his inked pecs, moving along the curves of his tattoos making their way to his nipples, and you pinched. not too rough to hurt but enough to send jolts of pleasure through his body. “look at this good boy," you sighed, feeling choso throbbing inside you. "earned the right to cum inside me… would you like that?”.

you loved teasing him. he was a total whimpering, fucked out mess beneath you. ‘so cute’

nerd!Choso was as sur as the sky is blue that you had superpowers, somehow. and you both sur as well scored a beautiful A on the assignment.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

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lucygraysboy · 1 day ago

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“that’s why we’re the best of friends. if i was as awful as jesse or olinger, you’d want to murder me in my sleep,” he points out, basking in the sound of her laugh. it makes flowers bloom in his chest despite it being december. “hm?” realizing he’s said a thing too much, billy looks like a deer caught in headlights and begins to quickly backtrack. “no! ew, no, i’d never participate in that!” his friends have shared a few nsfw pictures to the group chat, but he always just ignores them and thinks it’s a disgusting hobby. he’s been with different women, which is not something that he’s proud of, but that’s how he knows vaginas come in many different shapes and sizes. it’s not something that he’s willing to disclose in front of lucy gray, though. “i just… well, i assume that’s how… umm — yeah. that’s what some of them probably look like? i mean, if boy parts are different on everybody then so are girl parts, yeah? i imagine some are more chubby just like some weenies are kinda curvy, right? or more veiny or somethin’… god, let’s talk ‘bout somethin’ else. it’s so cold today!” it must be the most awkward subject change in the universe but he’s trying to save what’s left of his dignity. “oh, no! my little birdie!” laughing when she pretends to stumble backwards, he grabs her by the arm to keep her from falling. “ew! who’s the perv now, hm? don’t talk to him in public, you weirdo!” cheeks flushing in embarrassment, he gently pushes her away from his stomach. “do i have to carry you again?” to keep her from trying to spark a conversation with tom cox? getting a hold of her pestering hands, he gently presses them back to her person and shakes his head.

“no, definitely not the worst.” she laughs, at least that’s true. “what do you mean swollen? oh…chubby folds…” making a face at the realization, but how does he know anything about chubby vaginas? “do you and jesse and olinger pass around pictures of different vaginas? how would you know this?” he’s seen it somewhere to be thinking so deeply about it, which slight amusement appears on her face at the fact but then… has he been seeing these vaginas up close and personal? she has no right to be mad, but it still makes her jealous and angry. “hey, lucy gray, wanna see my tom cox!?” stumbling dramatically, acting like his big ole arm sent her backwards before coming back. “hi, tom cox, hiii.” leaning down to talk to his belly button, pretending she’s speaking to his pants, but she doesn’t want to be that weird— at least this gives the illusion to annoy him enough as tiny fingers tickle him over his jacket even though he probably can’t feel anything.

#billysgirllol

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my-castles-crumbling · 1 day ago

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barty crouch jr - jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 476

James wasn’t an easily frustrated person. While he wasn’t patient, he was easygoing, and it took a lot to make him annoyed or on-edge.

However, Barty Crouch, Jr. was a special case.

He wasn’t sure why, exactly. It was just that Crouch was so…Crouch. He’d realized it around the time he’d started spending more time with Regulus. He didn’t spend any more time with Crouch– he only saw Regulus alone…and every time he saw him it was secretive and riddled with want and confusion and tension and desire, at least on James’s end.

But it seemed that now James was noticing Regulus more, he was noticing his friends, too. And Crouch was bloody obnoxious.

He was touchy, for one. He always had his hands on all of his friends, especially Regulus. A hand on his shoulder or in his hair. Who did that? Sure, James was touchy with his friends but not…not like that!

And he was loud. He laughed like a hyena at Regulus’s jokes and called across corridors to the other boy, practically screaming, “Oi, Reggie! How are you, darling?” It set James’s teeth on edge. His grating voice, his ridiculous laugh, his very presence.

And the way Regulus looked at Crouch, too! Like he was…like he was special! It was infuriating.

So forgive James for being a bit cold when one day, Crouch approached him and said, “Hey Potter? Have you seen Dorcas? Meadowes? I know she hands around your friend, McKin-”

“No,” he nearly spat, not looking his way. Instead, he looked over to the table where Crouch had come from– where Regulus currently sat.

But Crouch, far from looking offended, broke into a bemused smirk. “Wand up your arse, Potter? What-?” But he broke off when he met James’s eyes and followed their gaze. “Ah,” he said, grinning widely.

James frowned. “Ah, what?” He was beginning to get really annoyed.

“Oi, Reg, darling?” Crouch called to Regulus, instantly making James flush with embarrassment.

“What the fuck, Crouch? What are you-?” he began to protest, but he was cut off.

“What, Barty?” Regulus drawled, looking over to the two of them with an unamused expression.

“Have we ever fucked?” Barty asked loudly, causing many nearby students to gape.

James gasped and turned red from embarrassment but Regulus didn’t flinch.

“No,” he said simply, a little wrinkle forming between his eyes as he narrowed his eyebrows.

Crouch nodded. “And will we ever fuck?”

Regulus gave a short laugh. “I certainly hope not.”

And even though he was still mortified, James registered a feeling of relief flood through his body. Why-?

“Well, there you have it. So have you seen Dorcas or not?” Crouch demanded, waxing his thanks to Regulus and turning back to James.

“Erm….Gryffindor Common Room,” James mumbled, still blushing, gazing over at Regulus who was hiding a smirk behind his hand.

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leighsartworks216 · 2 days ago

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could I request it being the first time ur in a relationship for valentine's and youre not sure how to make it special for sylus because you've never celebrated before ? :)

My First Valentine

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote most of this today even tho the request came in a week ago 💀 sorry

Warnings: fluff, anxiety, nervousness, embarrassment, kissing, gift giving, flowers, Valentine's Day, insecurity, declarations of love, established relationship, pet names, reader is implied as being shorter/smaller than Sylus

Word Count: 1,922

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

'45 Fun And Romantic Valentine's Day Date Ideas!' '13 Fun Valentine's Day Activities!' '25+ Romantic Things To Do This Valentine's Day!'

You sigh, closing yet another tab of holiday ideas. You don't know how many websites you've looked at now, all of them promising fantastic gifts or experiences, sure to sweep your partner off their feet. But none of them felt good enough. Not for Sylus.

All your life, Valentine's Day was another lonely day. Your friends and their partners would be out and about or getting together at home, and you'd be stuck in pjs, eating ice cream and watching the same cheesy rom-coms as the year before. The most you'd ever gotten out of the day was in school, when you'd get those little themed cards with a heart-shaped lollipop poked through them.

Now that you have a partner, every single thing you come across feels too cheesy, or like something he wouldn't be into. Not to mention, anything you could possibly buy, he could get on his own with his gobs of money.

Go on a trip? He owns his own private jet; he could go anywhere anytime.

Buy him flowers? More likely than not, they'd wilt twice as fast in the darkness of the N109 Zone.

Dinner at a restaurant means you'd have to find some really fancy place to suit his tastes to make sure he has a nice time. Cooking something yourself could hardly compare to his professional private chef's cooking.

You could get him some vinyls, but you'd hate to get him a duplicate. Weapons? Well, he's got that covered; he deals them.

Asking Luke and Kieran is a non-starter when they're equally as likely to give you good advice as fake advice that would make you look foolish.

You can't fathom how your friends make it look so easy to make plans for the day and get gifts for their partners. Though, you suppose, none of them are dating a multi-billionaire (if not multi-trillionaire or more) crime boss.

You sigh and close your laptop with a snap. What does Sylus enjoy that you can treat him to as a special holiday treat? Something you can feasibly accomplish before the actual day rolls around? Something other than a cheap visit to the arcade or the cat cafe...

Wait... Actually...

Sylus knows you live in rather modest means. He always insists you pay with his black card so you're not stressing about going broke. Why would he suddenly expect you to dish out wads of cash now on a trip or gift? Anything you give him - even if it's a cheap toy from the dollar store - he'd cherish like a gem.

And that's when the idea forms.

With all the preparations written down, you text him, bubbling with energy.

Syyyy

You seem rather playful all of a sudden. What's got you excited, kitten?

You can tell all that from one word??

No, I can tell all that because I know you

Awe 🥺 stop being so cute

Anyway!! I actually wanted to tell you that I have Valentine's Day all worked out!

Oh?

But it's a secret!

Well now I'm interested. What do I need to do for these plans of yours?

Just show up at my place at nightfall on the day of :3

That's it? Why do I feel like I'm being lured into a trap?

Oh yeah the worst trap of all a doting partner who wants to pour all their love on you

Alright. I'll see you then, kitten

But don't think I'll be showing up empty handed

I'd be concerned if you did ngl

Ily <3333333 Goodnighttt

Goodnight, sweetie. I love you too

For how simple your plan is - or perhaps because of how simple your plan is - you've never been more nervous in your life. You've double and triple checked everything, made sure he'll be comfortable and not too disappointed with what you've come up with, and second-guessed yourself several times about whether this is actually a good idea.

Not that it matters. You'd be really down to the wire to come up with something new now.

You pace the living room, wringing your hands together, chewing your lip, fussing with your hair. You feel like a dog excited to see its owner when you hear a patterned knock on the door. So excited you nearly trip over the corner of a blanket in your haste to answer it.

Sylus is there to greet you, an easy grin on his face and softened eyes. A large bouquet that you'd drown in rests deceptively small in the crook of his arm. A bag hangs from his other hand, but he sets it down when you step into the hall to hug him.

He chuckles fondly, squeezing you tightly to him and kissing your head. "You look cozy," he teases playfully. His fingers tug at the back of your pajamas.

You laugh nervously as you step back. "Ah, yeah. It's part of the stuff I planned, actually."

He quirks an eyebrow. "I'm a bit overdressed."

"Don't worry! I got you some!" Your face grows hot. You feel like an idiot, flustered and inexperienced. "Come in, so I can explain better."

You take the bouquet from his arm. It's full of your favorite flowers, their delightful aroma tickling your nose as you carry them into the kitchen to look for a vase. You have to rely on your muscle memory to move around; they completely block your vision. Sylus follows in after you with his bag, peering around the little space of your apartment. He'd offered to get you a bigger one, once. Somewhere with a view, soundproof walls, and all the upgraded appliances you ogled in the stores. But you refused, and he respected that, even if it meant being inconvenienced by the lack of space for someone of his size.

His eyes land on the couch, covered in blankets of all sizes. Various DVDs cover the coffee table alongside a neatly folded pair of pajamas. It's cluttered, but purposefully so, as if the mess has been built into the experience.

You find a vase (bought after the first time he bought you flowers that you had to divvy up between various drinking cups) and settle the bouquet on the small dining table. There's no room left for two people to eat there. You come back out looking a mite more disheveled than before.

You smile awkwardly up at him, eyes flickering from his face to your setup as you rock back and forth on your feet. "So! Um, I've never actually had a partner to celebrate Valentine's Day with before, so I used to get a bunch of ice cream, maybe some takeout, and I'd just spend the night on the couch with a bunch of cheesy rom-coms. And now we're together and I didn't know what I could do because you can have anything you want at any given moment. But, um, I just thought, for my first Valentine's Day with someone, I could... share my 'tradition' with you." You exhale a shaky breath. "I know it's probably not what you were expecting..."

"Sweetie," he gently interrupts your rambling. He sets the bag on the couch, then closes the space between you, holding your face in both his hands, urging you to meet his eyes. They shine with something warm and sweet, like cherry wine. "It's not what I was expecting, but it's better than anything I could have imagined."

You scoff. "You're just saying that."

He shakes his head. "I can't buy a tradition, sweetie. This is something that means a lot to you. I'm fortunate enough to be the one person who gets to share it with you; no amount of money could do that."

Your heart feels light. It floats around your chest like a balloon filled with helium. Butterflies flutter in your stomach to join in on the fun. Is this how your friends felt with their partners? It's addicting. You try to blink away the incoming tears before they can form.

"What did you bring?" you ask suddenly, redirecting the conversation away so you can have a chance to gather yourself.

Fortunately, he lets you have it. With a knowing smirk, he kisses your forehead and steps away back to the couch. You miss the proximity immediately.

He pulls out each item one by one, holding it up to show you. "Wine. I can't say anything about how it'll taste, but the label was pretty, so I thought you'd like it." He sets it on the coffee table.

"You mentioned that you liked to go to the store the day after to buy the discounted candy. Well, it wasn't discounted, but I grabbed a variety." Those remain in the bag, but he has to shift it all around to reach something at the bottom.

He seems the most proud of - and the most nervous for - this one. He glances over at you before he pulls it out, as though double checking he has your attention. From the bag comes a hoodie, that he holds by the shoulders to let it unfold. It's nothing too special to look at, but the size is what strikes you. When he holds it up, it's clearly the perfect size for him. His ears tinge pink as he holds it out for you.

"You complained once that I don't have any hoodies for you to steal, like other couples do," he reminds you, voice soft and vulnerable.

He watches carefully as you step forward and reach out to feel the material. It's soft. So soft. You take it into your arms. The familiar scent of Sylus wafts up from the fabric; his body wash, his cologne, him. You hold it up to your nose to smell it better as you look up at him in awe.

"I wore it for a couple days," he admits. "If you don't like it, I can-"

"I love it." You really are going to cry now. You step forward, clinging the hoodie to your chest as he wraps his arms around you. "Sy, this means so much to me. I'm never gonna be able to take it off."

He chuckles. His arms squeeze you just a bit tighter, pull you a bit closer. "I'm glad. You're my first Valentine, too."

You pull back enough to look up at him. Your eyes are glassy, surprise to earnest on your face. "Wha- Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"Well, I mean, I just- You're so... you. That's a compliment, by the way."

"I was waiting for the right partner," he says with a huff of laughter. He dips his head down, soft lips capturing yours in a meaningful kiss. When he speaks again, it's in soft murmurs between kisses. "I'll go change... into the pajamas you got me... and then... we can watch... your movies."

The butterflies are back in full force. Each kiss has them flittering about, doing swoops and swirls in your stomach, wings tickling your insides. "Okay... Mm, but, stay here a bit longer..."

He smiles against your lips, hands sliding up your body to hold your face as he tilts his head, yearning to taste more of you, feel more of you. "Love you, sweetheart..."

You blindly set the hoodie on the arm of the couch to hold his fancy shirt in both hands, drawing him closer, knuckles brushing against the defined muscle beneath the fabric. "I love you, Sylus... Mm, so much... so much..."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @burningtrashgentleman

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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telephoniii · 2 days ago

Text

HEARTSHAPED CHOCOLATES

☆彡 in which you gift jamil a valentine and things get complicated

jamil viper x gn!reader

word counter: 3.1K

warnings: reader is prefect, possible ooc, miscommunication (kinda), descriptions of servitude

a/n: i wrote this at 2AM but i think it's really cute. i’m definitely biased because jamil is my favorite and i do NOT have any valentines this year whatsoever 😭

i hope you enjoy!! :>

Jamil wiped down the counter with a frustrated sigh. Kalim had, once again, gone behind his word and threw a last-minute party. One that Jamil had to do a majority of the work for. And now here he was, cleaning up after the incompetent boy.

Nothing he wasn't used to, but upsetting nonetheless. Though, he supposed that he’d be lying to himself if he claimed it was the only reason he felt bitter. His eyes flickered toward a calendar that hung on the kitchen wall of Scarabia.

Tomorrow, it’d officially be Valentine's Day.

Now, most NRC students were as single as could be for a variety of reasons— being a celebrity, focusing on grades, etc. Jamil fell under the category of being too busy. So many, much more important matters were always fighting for his attention. And a lot of them are related to Kalim in some way or form.

Being a destined servant to the Al Asim household wasn't an ideal situation. Plain and simple. Especially when it came to romantic relationships.

In middle school, young Jamil had a few girls he was interested in. However, all hopes of those crushes blooming into anything more died when they witnessed Jamil and his family bowing down to Kalim.

It's difficult to explain his role to his peers. Of course, the older he got the easier it became. But for most of his childhood, it was extremely embarrassing to have to say that he was to devote his life to serving the Al Asim family forever.

It was humiliating, giving leeway for others his age to look down on him. Now it wasn't just Kalim who he was lesser than. It was everyone. And it was hardly fair. Jamil was smarter than all of them combined.

He caught on to things quickly and was easily adaptable. When learning magic, his movement was calculated and precise. Yet, because of his last name, the respect he deserved was never given… Needless to say, he never pursued any more crushes.

By the time he was enrolled in NRC, romance no longer seemed plausible for his lifestyle. He wouldn't be able to devote so much time to another person other than Kalim anyway. That man-child can barely do anything on his own to save his life.

Jamil was convinced he’d spend the rest of his youth alone, only really finding a potential partner once he was free from the chains of servitude.

…And then you showed up at NRC.

You and your stupid soft eyes; that genuine empathy you carried on your sleeve. It's idiotic, really. You were bound to get taken advantage of in a school like this. Against his better judgment, Jamil felt drawn to you.

Despite being magicless and from a whole other world, you seemed to understand and empathize with his struggles better than those he had grown up with. And you weren't just all bark, no bite. You helped out a lot.

Many can just say that they feel sorry for Jamil, yet stand idly by as he served Kalim. You, however, saw him through his overblot. Instead of moving on, you forced him to communicate with Kalim about how he was feeling. It would've been so easy to fall back into the status quo, yet you stayed and improved his life for the better.

He’ll never quite get how one person could leave such a big impact.

You eased his worries about servitude. Being around you was naturally calming. It didn't feel like he had to babysit when he spent time with you. In fact, he felt as though he was learning new things— about both himself and others— every day with you.

The feeling scared him to his soul.

It was terrifying to be this addicted to another person’s presence. He wasn't used to having someone to look forward to: someone he wanted to be around all the time.

Jamil didn't know whether or not to pursue you. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into more of his messes… however, you seemed to frequently do that yourself, choosing to be involved for his sake. He was truly infatuated.

Despite it all, he refused to make a move.

You weren't from this world and all too soon he was sure you’d find a way back to where you were meant to be. It’d be selfish of him to pursue you, trapping you in a place you didn't belong. He knows the feeling of being trapped all too well after all.

There were no telltale signs you’d be interested in him back anyway. You were friendly with all and close to many. Who’s to say one of those fancy princes or endearingly dumb freshmen isn’t the one who’s captured your heart?

He purposely doesn't stand out, unlike some other students. Jamil assumed this put him at a natural disadvantage.

Assumed being the keyword.

Of course you, always breaking his expectations, had to crumble his thoughts by gifting him chocolates.

“Jamil?”

His eyes moved from his textbook to you in a second. He raised a brow as he watched you stare at him with an unrecognizable glint in your eyes. “Did you need help with something, Prefect?”

Those words made you perk up, grounding you back in reality. “No! No. I’m fine. Just…”

Clearing your throat, you put down your pencil. The homework in front of you was long forgotten as you focused your attention mainly on Jamil— much to his confusion.

“Do… Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day?” You cautiously asked, looking at him intently.

He furrowed his brows at the question, thinking it over. “Kalim will most definitely want to throw a party for the occasion. I'll be in charge of the decorations, cooking, and— well, everything as per usual.”

Jamil answered truthfully, not seeing much of a reason not to. Yet, he felt like he answered wrong as his eyes met your deflated gaze.

“Got it… Yeah, that makes sense…”

Before he could invite you to the party— you’re one of the only people he’d happily cook for— you messily started scouring through your bag.

He observed you curiously, mentally noting that he should help you clean out your backpack sometime. I mean, the amount of loose papers you have in there is absurd—

“Here.”

His mind goes quiet as you pull out a small, heart-shaped box and slide it toward him. Jamil looks at you like you are crazy, making you chuckle.

“I was hoping to give it to you on Valentine's Day, if you're busy then, I’d rather do it now and save you the trouble.” How thoughtful of you… His shock was transparent as he struggled to form words.

You didn't know whether or not to take that positively or negatively.

“Uhh—” It was awkward, the air was tense as you swiftly stood up. You flashed him a nervous smile. “I should go check up on Grim… Good seeing you?”

Jamil had never felt more scatterbrained. So many thoughts racing at once. Yet so little came out of his mouth.

“Good seeing you too, Prefect.”

He never did invite you, did he?

Jamil sighs at his ridiculousness. In the back of his mind, he tried to justify it.

The party wouldn't be ideal for you to come to anyway, he’d be working the majority of the time. He doubts you’d enjoy yourself. It might be awkward for you to even come after that exchange.

However, deep down, he knew he should've said something. Anything. Instead, he just let you leave with unsure thoughts.

Jamil didn't want to leave this be. He wanted to make it right. But with so little time, he was stuck.

Valentines arrived unreasonably fast, causing him to frown. The students of Scarabia could sense something was wrong, but no one had the guts. Well, no one except…

“Jamil? Are you mad?” Kalim innocently asked.

Although you made Jamil talk out a lot of his issues with Kalim, the white-haired boy’s voice still irked him to his soul.

“No. What makes you say that?” The Viper responded, keeping his tone neutral and calm.

Nonetheless, Kalim squinted at him with a pout.

“Is this about the Prefect?”

He nearly choked on his spit. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you guys like each other, right? Did you fight over something? Aww, I’m sorry if an argument broke out right before Valentine's.”

Jamil shook his head with an annoyed scoff, giving Kalim an unamused look.

“No, what—? Rewind. What makes you think we like each other?”

Kalim tilted his head like a lost puppy. It only served to frustrate Jamil further.

“Is it not obvious? You’re way happier around them than anyone else!”

Not that anyone pointed it out, but Jamil would undoubtedly deny the way his cheeks heated up at that statement.

“We’re not seeing each other romantically. Neither do we think of one another that way…”

He regretted letting his sentence trail and thinking aloud. Whenever it came to you, he was much less organized than he liked.

“…Well, sort of.” Although he merely mumbled these three words, that was all it took for Kalim to spring up ecstatically.

“Oh! So you like them but you haven't confessed? You can do it at today's party! I’ll invite them right now!” “What! No— Kalim, slow down!”

Jamil had to physically grab the other hot by his shoulders to keep him from bouncing away.

“I'm not ‘confessing’ at this party today, or any time soon.”

That lost puppy looked returned to Kalim’s face. Although he had seen it a few minutes ago, it still pissed him off all the same.

“Why not?”

Because he didn't know how to; plain and simple. Jamil for sure didn't want to have his ‘confession’ be too big. He’d hate for himself to come off as ingenuine to you.

Not to mention, Kalim and his antics have more or less ruined any big, dramatic gestures for him. Jamil can't help but find them corny and tacky now.

However, he didn't want to do something too small. A simple note won’t cut it for him. You deserve more. What exactly that entailed, he didn't know.

“Because I don’t want to.” Jamil unenthusiastically answered. He cut off Kalim before he could speak up. “No more questions.”

Not wanting to entertain this conversation any longer, Jamil walked away. Right. He had other, more pressing matters to worry about. Party preparations.

Food, decorations, music, lighting…

Damn it, why won’t you leave his mind?

The party, thankfully, went smoothly. Guests were enjoying themselves, there was enough food for everyone, and Kalim was too distracted by a few people to bother him. Letting out a relieved sigh, Jamil leaned against the wall behind him. His eyes wandered around as he started people-watching.

It was important to stay alert when it came to the people at these parties. He had to make sure no one had harmful intentions towards the young Al Asim. Though, as he should've expected, there were many couples here tonight.

Seems like a lot of Scarabian students brought their off-campus lovers here. Jamil can only hope Crowley doesn't chastise them too harshly for doing so.

He perks up as a slow song plays over the party. The lights are adjusted to dim and soon enough, practically everyone was on the dance floor. Couples, friends, strangers, talking stages— you name it.

It’s no surprise Jamil seemed drawn to the dance aspect of this part of the night. Even if he tried to hide it at times, his passion for the art of dancing always had its way of shining through. He glanced through the crowd to see if there was anyone without a partner.

Thankfully for him, it wasn't too hard to spot someone. These types of parties were always bound to have a few wallflowers. As he made his way through the crowd toward the one he had his eye on, he couldn't help but hear a couple of voices over the music.

“Ace, you little—!” That was all Jamil could make out before he felt a person suddenly collide with him. It didn't hurt or anything, and Jamil had enough sense to gauge it was most likely a mistake—

“Uh, hi.”

He didn't expect to turn around and be met with the sight of you. An embarrassed look sat upon your face as you fidgeted with the ends of your clothes.

“Hey.” Jamil curtly replied.

You gave him that stupid little smile of yours that made his heart race. A hopeful hum left your lips.

“Are you busy?”

He couldn't help but chuckle in response, giving his genuine answer.

“Nope.” He stuck his hand out, pretending that his mind wasn't going fuzzy from being in your presence. “May I have this dance?”

He felt you place your hand on top of his.

“Of course.”

With your permission, he let one hand fall to your waist as he gently guided you in a waltz-like manner. He was more experienced than you, precisely moving as the two of you dance.

You couldn't help but feel endeared. Jamil was pretty from close up. Unfortunately— or fortunately— he caught you staring. He gave you an amused look in response.

However, he didn't expect you to abruptly frown and glance away.

‘You couldn't get your hopes up,’ Your mind reminded you, recalling his reaction to your gift. It was for the better you don't get too attached.

Jamil seemed disheartened by the disconnect. His hand on your waist lightly tightened. Shortly after, a mischievous grin found its way on his face.

Suddenly, Jamil’s movement quickened. You gave him a confused raise of the brow.

“Jamil—?”

He doesn't give you time to finish your thought as he spins you, swiftly catching you in his arms afterward. Taken by surprise, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

You've never seen Jamil look more proud of himself as he gave you that smug little smile of his. He barely gave you time to react before he was moving the two of you again.

What you didn't expect was for him to dip you so, so low. Instinctively, you squealed. Your arms clung onto him for dear life.

“Jamil—!”

He let out a laugh at your reaction. “What? It's not like I’m going to drop you or anything.”

Your grip tightened after hearing those words. “Great sevens— you better not drop me!”

He playfully rolled his eyes. Jamil leaned in closer, his voice taking a lower tone as he whispered, “You trust me, Prefect, don’t you?”

You didn't respond to that, instead letting your small glance to the side paired with an embarrassed expression speak for itself.

In the next few steps, he taught you some more advanced footwork. He couldn't help but admire the way you’d smile as you caught onto it quickly. Jamil then spun you once more, this time it was less abrupt.

Prepared, you were able to smoothly go along with it. The boy let out an impressed hum, giving you a satisfied look. His eyes practically told you what he had planned next. Another dip.

The dip was more nerve-wracking than the spin. However, Jamil didn't intend to dip you as low as he did before— thankfully.

Your hold on him still tightened like it did before as he dipped you. Unlike before, Jamil let the pose and moment linger.

You’d gaze up at him, admiring the determined glint in his eyes. The way his hair naturally fell, framing his face, was just the cherry on top.

Oh, and how could you forget those breathtaking lips of his...

His thoughts were eerily similar to yours, taking in your features before letting his eyes roam over your lips. Jamil leaned closer, bringing his face mere inches from yours.

You swung your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to get closer… and closer… and…

Just as the two of you closed your eyes, about to connect, you hear the slow music turn to an upbeat, party song. Next thing you know, you felt your body swiftly being pulled up.

One moment, you and Jamil were so close, the next he was acting as though you were toxic. His hands left your hips as he cleared his throat.

It looked like he was planning on saying something before a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

“Jamil! Come dance with me!” The two of you both heard the young Al Asim shout.

You frowned. Right. He’s busy tonight with duties and whatnot. Although you felt disappointed, you gave him a tired smile and nod.

Jamil’s brows were furrowed, his eyes flickering between you and the direction Kalim’s voice came from.

Tonight seemed full of surprises as Jamil’d hand shoots out to your forearm and hurriedly guided you outside in the opposite direction of Kalim.

You were in shock as he pulled you outside, shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

“…You’re not gonna—?” “If anyone asks, you were nauseous from dancing and went outside with me for fresh air.”

Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, looking at you for confirmation. You nodded your head.

“Uh, got it.”

Silence soon filled the atmosphere between the two of you, the only sound being from the night’s wind. It was oddly tense. You were the first one to break the quiet.

“I’m sorry.” Jamil’s gaze immediately snapped up to yours, narrowing in confusion.

“Sorry?” He repeated, looking for clarification.

You fidgeted with the ends of your clothes. “Sorry for the chocolates. That was probably uncomfortable for you since that kinda gift is usually reserved for couples and all…”

Jamil’s expression softened the more you talked.

“Don’t be. It was a lovely gift.” His hands slowly make their way to yours, gently holding you.

“I reacted the way I did because…” Jamil sucked in a hesitant breath. “…Well, you’ve made me feel things. Feelings that I thought I was incapable of feeling.”

He carefully pulled you closer to him, allowing you to back away if you wanted to. You didn't. You just stared back into his gaze as he continued.

“Around you, I feel unburdened by my responsibilities. I feel… alive.” If you maneuvered your hand right, you could feel his pulse practically beating out of his body.

“I adore you like no other. When I received those chocolates, my mind melted. You… you turn me into such a mess.” He lightly scoffed with a small shake of the head. You can't help but chuckle.

“Nonetheless,” He gave your hands a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back.

“I’d never wish this feeling away. Never in a million years.”

Jamil’s hands momentarily left yours as he fiddled with his jacket. He was looking for something…?

“Although it’s long overdue,”

After a few moments, Jamil pulls out a small, red rose. You recognize it as a part of the decor from the party. He slips it into your hand effortlessly, his eyes staying on yours.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twst x yuu #twst x you #twst fanfic #twst wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper x yuu #jamil x you #jamil x yuu #valentines day fic

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madebycloud · 11 hours ago

Text

No Erase

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: on valentine's day, and you've finally worked up the courage to write a letter to your crush confessing your feelings. unfortunately, your friend accidentally gives the letter to the one person you can't stand. warnings/themes: fluff, one sided enemies, valentines, kissing cam, angry confessions, fast burn ig, mordern au words: 10.9k

You look at the letter in your desk, which you spent at least six hours working on to make sure it's perfect. Not just to make sure the words you're choosing are perfect, though—you want to make sure your handwriting is perfect enough that it doesn't look sloppy.

You grab the letter and read it over one last time… lovey-dovey bullshit, sappy stuff, romantic nonsense, etc.

You cringe at the last words, “Meet me at the bleachers... recess.”

It's so cliché, so stereotypical, and maybe you've had a couple too many cheesy romance movies in the past month. You've probably read a dozen fanfics that start like this.

If it were done by anyone other than yourself, you'd think it was absolutely dumb and corny as hell.

You know you could just message them through snapchat or on insta, or facebook, even just confessing through their email is a good idea… but, no, you just can't do that.

What if you say the wrong thing? what if you just happen to say something extremely cringy in your message? what if they screenshot it and put it on their story for everyone to see? what if they reply with “who is this...?” what if they start ignoring you?

Plus, you love your phone too damn much, and you know you're gonna end up throwing the damn thing because of the absolute panic you're gonna feel when your finger hits that send button.

You probably should have just sent a carrier pigeon or something… at least they could eat that.

Oh wait.

You forgot one thing.

You look around your room, trying to figure out what you left out. Your penmanship is on point, the words are as romantic as they could be, and the grammar is perfect... but what's missing?

The perfume.

The bottle of perfume is on your dresser, hiding behind the jewelry case. You spray it liberally, making sure the paper absorbs the smell of it, before finally folding it up neatly and placing it in the envelope. You seal the envelope with a kiss to the paper and hope it's the ‘special touch’ that it needs.

The smell is nice, just enough to have the paper absorbing it nicely, but not enough to be overwhelming (even if you love the perfume to death). You also want your recipient to be able to read the letter without cringing.

Okay, now it's really done. It's romantic, it smells good, and it's as perfect as you can get it.

Tomorrow's the day, and you finally feel confident. You have everything ready to go, you just have to figure out how to get your friend to deliver it to your crush's locker.

As you get ready for bed, the only thing you can't stop thinking about is how tomorrow will go.

Will they love the letter? will they finally realize the feelings you have for them and confess their own feelings? who knows?

—

“Come on,” you whine, begging Ekko for the fifth time. “Just do me this favor, please?”

Ekko just scoffs and gestures to the table. “I already told you, I have all of these-” he motions to the dozens of letters in front of him, “-that i'm supposed to deliver for girls that are crushing on Caitlyn.” He sighs. “I can't add any more to my to do list.”

“Please?” you beg, waving the envelope at him. “It's really important.”

Ekko groans and slumps forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Why can't you just deliver it yourself?”

“It's kinda.. embarrassing… for me to deliver it myself…” You fidget awkwardly.

“Ugh.” Ekko groans again but gives in. “Fine,” he relents, sitting up straight and grabbing the letter from you.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ekko waves his hand dismissively. He stands up and stretches out, letting out a deep sigh as he does. “Just remind me what locker number it is?” he asks, shoving the letters into his bag.

“Locker number is 13 C,” you reply, watching as Ekko slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking out of the cafeteria. “It's pretty much right next to Caitlyn's, so you won't be missing it.”

“Got it,” he says, turning around and flashing a grin at you. “See ya later.” He gives you a salute before he disappears.

Finally.

After months of keeping your feelings quiet, your secret would be revealed. You just have to hope that it doesn't blow up in your face.

—

Ekko walks down the hallway, scanning through the numbers above the lockers until he finds the one he's looking for.

Caitlyn's locker.

He scans the area for any sign of Caitlyn, and luckily for him, the coast is clear.

He pulls out the envelopes from his bag, each one slightly crinkled from being stuffed in there. He counts up the total- ten, no, twelve... wait. Fifteen? that's more than he thought, he could have sworn there were less. He dumps all the letters on top of the locker hole.

He looks down at the remaining letter in his hand. Right, that one isn't for her. He sighs and places the letter next to her locker, just like he was told to do.

He gives the locker one last look but doesn't give it a second thought and starts walking away, whistling as he goes.

But... what Ekko didn't know is that instead of placing it into the locker next to it, he accidentally dumped it into 11C, aka, Vi's locker.

—

You wait at the entrance of your school, impatiently bouncing on your feet. Valentine's day is tomorrow, and you can't wait for your crush to read the letter you poured your heart into.

Then, you spot Ekko, and you're quick to greet him. “Hey!” You throw an arm around his shoulders. “So, did you put it in?”

He nods, gesturing to the school doors. “Yeah, I did.”

You sigh, relieved that the letter is in your crush's locker and will likely be seen by them soon. “Thanks.” You give him a squeeze on the shoulder before letting go of him. “I seriously owe you one for this.”

Ekko just brushes you off. “It's nothing.” He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets as you start walking into the courtyard. “Just doing my good deed of the day.”

“Mhm, hopefully tomorrow goes as planned,” you say, “I just hope they like it…”

—

Tomorrow finally comes, and it's the day you've been patiently waiting for. Valentine's day.

You're in your first class, waiting for your teacher to come in. You're distracted, your mind racing with thoughts about what your crush thinks of the letter.

Then, someone suddenly sits next to you, and you turn to look at-

“What the hell?” you blurt out, looking at Vi as she makes herself comfortable in the chair.

Vi smirks. “Hey,” she greets.

That smirk alone pisses you off.

You still haven't gotten over the fact that because of her, your grades had taken a nosedive. The two of you had been paired together in science class, and she'd somehow managed to blow up the experiment, all because she wasn't paying attention.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you snap, glaring at her.

She simply glances at you, then back at the desk she's sitting on. “What do you think? I'm sitting.”

The audacity?

“I know that, but why are you sitting next to me?”

“Come on, don't act like you don't know.” She throws in a wink, and your disgust quickly multiplies.

“Excuse me?” you sputter, completely caught off guard by her sudden flirtatious behavior.

“You really gonna act like you don't know?"

“No?”

She scoffs and leans towards you, smirk on her lips. “I mean,” she adds, eyeing you up and down, “I thought you'd be... happy... to see me.”

You're stunned, confused, and quite frankly, grossed out. “Happy to—WHY ON EARTH would I be happy to see you?” you spit out.

She huffs and slumps back into the chair. “Oh wow, thanks for the warm welcome.”

“Well, what did you expect? You haven't exactly been... pleasant to be around.”

She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to reply but stops short as the teacher enters the classroom.

She finally shuts up, and you're left wondering what just happened. Why in the world is someone who is a pain in your butt cheeks suddenly flirting with you? is there something wrong with her? or has she lost her damn mind?

—

It's recess, and you're sitting on the bleachers, waiting for your crush to show up.

Your palms are sweating, you're starting to worry that your armpits are going to start smelling, you're probably going to end up throwing up on someone's shoes.

The letter was probably too much. The words were too romantic. The whole cliché “meet me at the bleachers” thing was just cringe. Who wrote that? oh right... you did.

But even if the outcome isn't what you hope for, at least you've got a good story to tell later or maybe a good reason to drown yourself in ice cream and cheesy rom-com movies.

You look around the bleachers once, twice, three times. You try to avoid glancing at your phone, but the urge to check the time only grows stronger.

It doesn't help that a couple of assholes are sitting a few feet away from you, loudly laughing at some video playing on one of their phones.

Recess is almost over, and your crush is still not here. Where the hell are they?

Maybe they could possibly be in the bathroom, having a nervous breakdown like you were? or maybe they're just taking their sweet time, making sure they're looking perfect?

Or maybe they're not coming at all.

And then you hear footsteps coming your way,

THIS IS IT.

Is your hair okay? yes. Are your teeth brushed? yes, dumbass.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms, trying to calm your racing heart. You turn around, ready to see the face of an angel, the face of a goddamn god-

But instead you see the face of someone you'd rather shove into a brick wall.

Vi.

Why the hell is she... smiling at you?

“Damn, you look good from this angle.”

WHAT?

Why is this goddamn lesbian here with that stupid smile on her face?

“Why are you here?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm here to see you.” She pulls out an oddly familiar envelope from her pocket and holds it in her hand, and you realize why it's so familiar.

Wait... that's your letter!

The one you wrote to your crush. The one that's meant to be in their locker, not in her damn hands.

How the hell did it end up with her?

She looks at the envelope, studying the handwriting on it, and then her eyes lock with yours again. “This is yours, right?”

Your hand quickly snatches the envelope from her hand. “How the fuck did you get that?”

Vi quickly snatches the envelope away, holding it out of your reach. “Whoa, woah, wait-”

“Give me that!” You lunge for the envelope, but she sidesteps you.

Vi laughs, holding the envelope away from you. “Isn't this for me?” She opens the envelope and throws it aside, then pulls out the letter and starts reading it aloud. “Dear... what the hell, how do you... whatever. Dear blah, blah, blah, happy valentine's da-”

“-SHUT UP!” You try to snatch the letter again.

“Hey, I'm not done reading it yet! This is my valentine's gift, after all.”

“That letter is meant for someone else!”

“Really? Then why did I find it in my locker?”

“Wait, what? You found it in—you're joking, right?”

She shakes her head, waving the letter in front of you. “Nope, I'm not joking.”

“How did you-”

“Someone put it in my locker.”

“That's impossible! I would never—I mean to you? there's no way that was meant for you.”

Vi squints at the words in the letter, then looks up at you again. “But this is definitely written in your handwriting, right?”

How did it end up in her locker? and how the hell does she even know what your handwriting looks like?

Your eyes dart from the letter in her hands to her face. Yes, it's definitely your handwriting. Yes, it's definitely the same stupid letter you wrote because you're a hopeless romantic.

“Maybe,” you grumble.

“Maybe? so it is yours?”

You avoid her gaze, avoiding her smug look.

She starts reading over the letter again, reading it aloud. “Meet me at the bleachers, how goddamn cliché-”

“STOP READING IT!”

“Damn, I didn't think you could be this corny.”

“Shut up, just-” You try to snatch the letter out of her hand once again, but she pulls her arm away.

“You wrote this much for someone?”

“Why do you care so damn much, anyway? You didn't get a valentine gift or something?” and now you're just being bitchy as well.

“What are you, ten?” she retorts.

“And what are you, an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot, unlike you.”

“Oh, wow, are we back in sixth grade now?”

She looks down at the letter. “I'm not the one who wrote a heartfelt letter for someone who probably doesn't even like you.”

“And how the hell would you know?”

“Have you even talked to them before?” She lifts her head, her smirk coming back when you didn't answer. “Since whoever the hell you have a crush on doesn't like you-”

“They could still-”

“See, everyone has a valentine. Well, almost everyone, which means your crush probably got one too.”

“Yeah, 'cause you got that letter they were supposed to receive.”

“Maybe I was meant to have it then.”

“You're seriously that sure that the universe wants you to have this?”

“Maybe it's a sign.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Are you just dumb on purpose?”

She grins. “I'm not doing it on purpose, and maybe it's a sign that I should be your valentine, that the universe is trying to tell you something.”

You roll your eyes. “Wow, so confident. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're actually serious.”

“And what if I am serious?” You look at her blankly as she shrugs. She actually thinks she's funny. “I mean, you don't have a valentine, which does kind of suck, and I don't have one, which is by choice, by the way, so I think the universe is clearly telling us something.”

What the actual hell is wrong with her today? she didn't get enough sleep or something, and now she's acting like... like this? this is weird.

She's being weird.

“What, is the universe now trying to set us up? really? we're gonna get a movie based off this?”

“Hey, no one said this was a movie, maybe it's just a cute little high school romance,” she argues back. “Plus, you put a lot of work into this letter, and I'd hate for it to go to waste.”

“I'm not in the mood to start a cute little high school romance with you, okay?”

She heaves a dramatic sigh. “Look,” she says, holding up a hand to stop you from replying, “it's valentine's day, right? and we both don't have anyone, so it's just... for today, we can, you know... see what happens, and if it doesn't work out, then we can just leave it alone and go back the way we were.”

You blink slowly. “That sounds worse than your whole ‘the universe wants us together’ bullshit.”

“Wow, don't act like the idea of it is so awful. I mean, I'm not that bad, right?”

You're going to disagree with that with every single cell in your body, but you decide not to, instead, you just remain silent.

Vi seems to take your silence as agreement because she gives you this insufferable smirk like she just won something.

She continues. “It makes sense if you think about it. We're both single, you're already in a lovesick mood because of this,” she gestures at the letter, “so if we do, you know... we can get it out of your system, and you won't have to spend the rest of the school year pining over some person who is probably ignoring you anyway.”

Why is she making some sense? no, why is she sounding like... a good option all of a sudden?

“It's just for today,” she reminds you again. “We'll just see where it goes. Who knows, you might actually have some fun with me.”

This feels like you're cheating on your crush for even entertaining this stupid plan.

“You're basically saying that we're going to spend one day together and then you'll ditch me?” you retort.

“No, that's not what I'm saying,” she corrects you. “I'm saying we're gonna spend one day together, and if it doesn't work out, then we go our separate ways. It's just one day, it can't hurt. It won't be such a big deal.”

“I'm not going to be your one day entertainment.”

“Who said you'd be my entertainment?” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at you. “You and I both know you have no other options. What're you gonna do instead, go home and cry over this person who doesn't even know you exist, or just spend the day wallowing in self pity while the rest of the school is celebrating love and stuff with their actual valentines?”

You wince at her harsh words because... she's got a point.

You don't have anyone to spend this day with, and the person you'd want to spend it with will probably spend it with someone else... so yeah, you have no plans, and yeah, you're probably going to just go home and wallow in self pity, wishing that today was over already.

What would happen, actually? if you go along with her stupid plan. You could finally have an escape from pining over your stupid crush who probably doesn't even notice you.

“Fine.” You snatch the letter back from her.

“Wait, what? really?” She's actually surprised. No wonder, she's the one who came up with this stupid plan in the first place.

“I am,” you say, “you don't want me to?”

She huffs out a laugh. “No, no, of course not. I just… didn't expect you to actually agree.”

“And why is that?”

“I don't know, I figured you'd still have a little bit of decency left in you.”

What a backhanded compliment. “I have plenty of decency left in me, it's you who I'd question, and besides... it's just for today.” You fold the letter and shove it into your pocket.

Vi hums, not taking that offense to your comment. “Just today,” she repeats. “Then tomorrow, boom, everything goes back to normal.”

You nod. “Back to normal.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Whoa woah woah. Calm down. “Ew, what?”

“I didn't say I will kiss you,” she points out, “I said I could.”

You could say something mean to her words, you could try to change the subject or you could just walk away and forget this conversation ever happened.

But what you actually say is, “What's stopping you then?”

You hate how that sounds so casual. It wasn't meant to come out like that. What the hell?

You're not entirely sure, but something is definitely encouraging you to keep this going. Is it because you find everything she does annoying or that you've been pent-up over your stupid crush lately and you need to get it out of your system?

Vi raises an eyebrow at your words. “You want me to kiss you?” The words drip out of her mouth, like honey on a spoon.

“No,” you reply on instinct, because of course not.

But you can't stop the way your eyes flicker down to look at her lips. You look back at her face, and you know damn well she saw you look down at her lips, but she doesn't say anything about it.

“So now that it's official... you're my valentine, and today, we're going to have the shittiest, most awesome date-” she coughs, “-i mean hangout, that you'll ever have.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hey,” she says, “don't underestimate me, okay? I know how to have a good time,” and then she, god help you, she winks at you.

She looks like she's about to say something more, but she stops when the bell rings.

“Meet me at the parking lot after class?” she asks.

You find yourself nodding. “Yeah, sure.” You look at the field for a second and then look back, just so you can catch her reaction—and it's not at all what you were expecting. She's... blushing?

It's subtle, more subtle than you'd think, but her cheeks are definitely red, and when she realizes you notice her, she looks away.

She looks embarrassed.

She's embarrassed?

“Anyway, see you there... valentine.” She doesn't look at you. “Try not to miss me too much.”

What? miss her? She sounds like she's trying to joke about it, but something about the way she says it sounds sincere? What the fuck?

She starts to walk away. You're pretty sure you see another smile on her face, and if you didn't like her so much, you'd probably like how she looks when she does.

But you remind yourself, this is Vi.

The same Vi you've known for years, the same Vi who made your grades worse because of a stupid experiment, the same Vi who you'd probably love to throw out the nearest window if you could, and the same Vi you can't stand.

You force yourself to turn away, and you start to walk back to the school building. You try to push the image of her stupid blushing face and her stupid pretty smile out of your brain because you are not... going to make the mistake of being attracted to her.

—

Time passes by more slowly than a snail.

What's the saying...? ‘A watched pot never boils?’ You're pretty sure you could watch paint dry, and it would move at a faster pace.

Why is time passing so slowly today?

You're not sure if it's because you have this... ‘hangout’ to expect at the end of the day or if it's because you keep getting distracted by the thoughts of what is going to happen later.

What you do know is that you end up spacing out way too much more than a person should.

Thankfully, you don't have any homework, but your notes for the day are just absolutely horrible, a mindless mess of scribbles and pointless words. You're definitely going to regret this later.

The last bell mercifully rings just as you're in the middle of doodling a small sketch of Vi's face in the corner of your notes.

You quickly shut your notebook and stuffed everything into your bag.

You need to find your goddamn common sense first, but it seems to have left the room before you could.

The hallway is a goddamn mess.

Kids are running everywhere in the halls, screaming loud as hell, some girl is trying to stuff her locker to the point where it's going to explode, and some kid has got a goddamn boombox and is blasting music from it. There's the hallway drama that everyone loves listening to even though they should be minding their own business.

Seriously, it feels like you're in the middle of a goddamn jungle with the amount of people screaming.

Walking to the parking lot takes longer than it usually would. When you get there, you see a familiar head of pink hair leaning against a red motor, scrolling through something on her phone.

She hasn't noticed you yet, and you find yourself unable to move your feet for a second.

She's just leaning back against the motorcycle, lazily swiping through something on her phone. She's even biting her lower lip slightly, and for some reason, you really don't know why that's such a good look on her.

Okay, what?

You need to stop letting your brain run away with these thoughts.

You are not going to act like a middle school idiot who just got caught looking at her crush or something. You're an intelligent, mature human being. You're definitely not some dumb kid with an embarrassing crush either. Definitely not.

The sunlight makes her glow, and when she looks up from her phone, you feel you're hit with a wave of goddamn sun poisoning because the sunlight hitting her eyes makes them shine.

She looks over and sees you, shoving her phone into her pocket. She gestures you over with a slight jerk of her head.

You force your feet to start cooperating and get your ass over there.

“Glad you came.”

What kind of response would even be the right one for that? “Me too” would sound too enthusiastic. “Yep” sounds so disinterested, like you'd rather be anywhere else than here, when that might be partially true, but you're not trying to sound like a dick. “Same here” sounds like such a sarcastic tone, and “Of course I'm here, you're the one who forced me into this” would sound too rude.

Instead, you just say nothing, which she notices, of course.

“What, no smart shits today?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you mutter as you turn your attention to the red motor behind her. You notice the scuffed up leather seat and the worn tires.

You then glance around the parking lot, wondering how many times you've seen this before. The motorcyclist who's always late to class, the seniors who smoke too much and are always ditching school, the students with cars who love to show off the brand new car their parents gave them, and the popular girls gossiping about some poor girl who can't afford nice clothes.

The sound of a motorcycle engine starting snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Vi getting onto the motorcycle

She pats the back seat behind her. “You getting on or what?”

“...is it like fast?”

“Is it like fast?"” she mimics in a childish tone before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, it's fast. Get on it and find out.”

“I just asked a question, no need to be a dick.”

“Are you always this bitchy?” she asks, then throws you a helmet. “Put this on.”

You catch the helmet, and you put it on. “Only around you.” You approach the motor and try not to comment on the poor condition and instead climb on behind her.

You have no idea what to do with your legs, so for a few seconds, you just awkwardly sit behind her, trying to position yourself like riding a horse.

“Are you gonna hold on?” Vi calls out.

“Hold on to what?”

“Me, dumbass. Grab my waist.”

“Hell no.”

“It's for your own safety.”

“I'm fine,” you shift around, trying to find a comfortable position.

Vi seems to start losing her patience with you. “If you want to fall off the bike mid ride and splatter onto someone's yard like a squashed bug, be my guest.”

That gets you to hold onto her waist out of pure spite.

“Just don't squeeze my abs too tight. I still need air.”

You scoff. “Who the hell is so narcissistic that they think something as simple as that would affect me?”

She huffs, amused by your snark, and puts on her own helmet. “It's not narcissism. It's just a joke,” she retorts.

You scoff again, but your hand tightens around her waist reflexively.

She chuckles. “Knew you couldn't resist.”

You pinch her waist. “Just shut up and drive.”

She snorts. “Touchy, aren't we?”

“Yeah, I am,” you reply sarcastically, pinching her waist again.

“Hey!” she exclaims, then sighs. “Okay, fine. I'll stop, just stop it.”

She starts the motor, and the hum of the engine vibrates throughout your body. It's louder being sat on top of the thing compared to how it sounds when you're on the ground. You feel this rumble throughout your chest, and you really want to comment on the poor thing making that much noise.

“Just hold on tight.”

—

“FUCK YEAH! WOOO!” you shout, punching the air with your fist and standing up. It's hockey, but who cares? you're not a fan, not in the slightest, but you're still screaming and cheering, all in a bid to support the team.

Vi is right beside you, shouting as well, while she eats a hot dog and washes it down with soda. “I thought you hated hockey!” she shouts over the crowd's cheers.

You shrug, but it's impossible to respond. You can't hear each other over the sound of the audience's cheers.

A few of the people sitting in the same section as you give you some weird looks, like you suddenly went insane. Well, can you really blame them? it probably looks like you have the sudden urge to yell random things for no reason.

Vi is the only one who doesn't look at you like you're some lunatic, her gaze is focused on the game, all while cheering, and occasionally making comments about the players.

It's different compared to watching it on TV. You're actually there, in person, surrounded by people who share your excitement and are as loud as you or louder.

You're also next to the most annoying person ever, but you don't want to dwell on that.

You drop down, back into your seat, and lean back, stretching your legs out. Your thighs and legs are starting to feel like jelly from all that screaming and standing. “Damn,” you tell her, shaking your legs. “I think I just strained a muscle or something.”

Vi laughs and sits down on her seat. “You know, I've been around here for years now. I probably know some people here.” She glances around the crowd of people, scanning them like she's trying to find someone in particular.

“Oh yeah? who's that in the third row then?”

She follows the direction of your finger and immediately points at a random person. “That's Fred! I once went to elementary with him.”

You have no idea if she's making that up or not. “And what about the guy next to him with the big hat?”

Vi squints at the section you pointed at. “That's George.” She then points at a girl with a black jacket. “That's Sneha,” she pauses, her eyes catching someone in the distance, “and oh-” her hand abruptly changes direction, pointing forward, “-that's Jenny,” she says, waving her hand. “Yo, Jen!”

The old lady turns around and nods her greeting. “Hi sweetheart, how's it going?”

“Doing good, gramps. Just watching the game with this one.” She nudges at you.

The old lady turns to look at you, her face taking the form of a smile. “Ah, a girlfriend, I see.”

Girlfriend? What's she talking about? “Um, no. Just a friend.”

Vi's eyebrows rise as her whole mouth goes ajar. “Friend?” she repeats, “We're friends now?”

“Only for today. Don't get used to the idea.”

The old lady, Melinda, hums. “Is that so? well, enjoy the game, children.”

“Yeah, yeah, we will,” Vi responds to the old lady, and once the lady turns back to watch the game, she leans in close, bumping her shoulder into yours. “That's Jen. She's basically the team's grandma,” Vi explains. “She's been here for years, goes to almost every game.”

You watch the lady continue to watch the game. “So she's like a regular here.”

“Yeah, sometimes she talks about how things were better in ‘her day.’”

“You two seem close though,” you point out.

“She's old and friendly,” she says, scratching her cheek. “Plus, old ladies are always fond of me. I helped her one time with her groceries after one game, and now she thinks I'm a sweetheart.” Vi shrugs, taking another bite of her hotdog. “She's also a nice lady. Always has candy and stuff to give out to everyone.”

“Candy, huh?”

“Yep,” she swallows and smacks her lips to get any food out from her mouth. “She always has peppermint discs, peppermint sticks, and chocolate sticks in her bag.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Why does she have candy anyway?”

Vi takes another bite. “Just something she likes to give out,” she says, between chews, then points at the old lady's lap. “That blue thing she's knitting is actually a hat. She likes to give that out too.”

“Really?”

Vi shrugs again, eating yet another mouthful of her food, still somehow managing to speak at the same time. “Yeah, and don't be fooled by the knitting and the candy. She could beat you in a game of arm wrestling. She's still really buff.”

You nod silently, impressed with this old lady.

When Vi swallows the last bit of her hotdog, she pulls out her phone and points it at you. “I'm gonna take a picture of you... and put it on Tinder.” The second the camera's click sounds off, it takes everything in you to not grab her phone and throw it across the goddamn stadium.

She continues taking pictures, each time saying something different, like, “Look at this one,” or “This one's really good.” She holds up the phone, showing you a picture that's... actually not half bad. But you know giving her that reaction would just fuel her to do more, so instead, you scoff.

You turn your attention back to the stadium, trying to ignore whatever she's doing beside you. You look around. There are a surprising amount of men, guys, dudes, bros, etc. It's like they outnumber the women.

“There's a lot of dudes in here,” you comment. “Is it a testosterone fest over here, or what?”

Vi looks around as well. “Yep.”

“Do you think any of these guys like girls who love sports?”

Vi snorts. “Nah,” she replies, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “They're more interested in a girl who looks good in a jersey and knows how to bring them a cold beer.”

“So… basically they're only interested if we look cute and we don't open our mouths?”

“Pretty much.”

You groan. “I hate guys like that.”

“Hey, some guys aren't that bad,” she remarks.

“Yeah, and they're the ones in relationships.”

She thinks about it for a moment. “You know… I'm surprised you're not in a relationship.”

You give her a weird look. “Why?”

“Well, you're... y'know… cute.”

Is that a compliment or a fact? you are cute, you're aware of that, but still, it's weird how she said it and... did it look like there was a hint of something else in her tone of voice when she said that?

You force a smile, trying to brush it off. “Thanks.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, a silence you really want to fill with literally anything else than this weird awkwardness.

Just when the awkward silence couldn't possibly get more awkward, a sudden cheer from the crowd interrupts your thoughts. They're all looking up at something on top of the stadium. You furrow your brows before looking up, trying to see what it is they're looking at.

Your eyes land on the huge TV that's attached to the ceiling, and you see the words ‘KISSING CAM’ flashing in bright letters. The camera pans through the crowd, searching for a couple, and it lands on a couple who's sitting not too far from you.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” You look over at Vi and see her cupping her hands over her mouth. She's standing up and shouting at the couple to kiss.

You watch as the girl looks up and sees the camera pointed towards her and her boyfriend. She whispers something to him, and it doesn't take a genius to know what she just said. The guy grins and leans in, giving his girlfriend a sloppy, wet kiss.

The crowd goes crazy, cheering and whistling. The couple pulls away from each other, both of them smiling.

You look at Vi again, who's still standing up. She seems to be enjoying this a lot more than you are, and you can see hearts in her eyes.

Once it seems like the camera has recorded enough footage, it moves to the next couple.

It goes to a couple sitting not too far away from you. The guy looks uncomfortable, but his girlfriend is completely eager to show some public affection. She grabs his chin and kisses him, but it’s only a quick, chaste kiss.

Vi yells out, “Come on, put some effort into it!” and then she sits down, leaning back in the chair.

The camera pans through the crowd again, skipping over several couples until finally landing on a group of guys. They look like they're having the time of their life, yelling at the camera and making rude gestures.

“Ah, boys…” an older man next to you sighs.

The camera captures the guys for a while, they're all laughing and having a good time.

The camera moves away from the group of guys and lands on Vi and a girl sitting right next to her.

Vi immediately makes some hand gestures, shaking her head and probably saying no. “We're not-” but before she can finish, the camera moves away from them, unsatisfied with this answer, and lands on the other girl sitting next to Vi.

You.

Fuck.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” you hear someone, it sounds like the same person who cheered on the other couples.

You look over at Vi, who's watching you with this stupid smile on her face. You glare at her, she's clearly enjoying this way too much.

You lean over to her, through clenched teeth, you hiss, “This isn't funny.”

She shrugs, still smiling. “I think it is.”

“Well, I don't.”

“It's only a kiss.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“Oh come on, it's Valentine's Day!” she replies. “What? are you worried that you'll suck at kissing or something?”

“Excuse me? I am an excellent kisser.”

“Oh yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Then why are you so worried about this? it won't be some gross open mouth kiss, it'll be just a little peck.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Because I don't want to be seen kissing in public, in front of hundreds of people,” you say, lowering your voice, “And I definitely do not want to kiss you.”

“Come on, you don't have to sound so disgusted by the idea of kissing me.”

“Because I am,” you say simply. “I don't want to kiss you anymore than you'd want to kiss me.”

“I never said I didn't want to kiss you.”

That statement takes you by surprise, you had just assumed that she would be grossed out by the thought of kissing you.

The chants start to get louder as more and more people join in. “KISS! KISS! KISS!”

You hear the same guy from before. “Kiss! c'mon! it's just a quick kiss, do it.”

You hear another girl from behind you. “Oh, come on! one little kiss! what's the big deal?”

It's no big deal.

But at the same time, you're starting to panic. You don't even know how to act right now, are you supposed to play along with this? are you supposed to ignore it? what the hell is happening?!

Your brain is starting to mush into mush because why are so many people chanting? why are they making such a big deal out of this? it's just a kiss, right? right… so why are you so nervous?

You turn your head to see Vi looking at you, her eyes staring into your soul.

“A kiss on the cheek will do,” she says aloud.

You're going to die.

Your heart is going to explode right here, in the middle of the stadium, and then your guts are going to spill out right in front of everybody.

Maybe it's best just to get this over with?

All you have to do is... just a kiss on the cheek. That's it.

You just have to get it over with before this turns into something bigger.

You're not really gonna enjoy this, you'd just get the feeling like you should have brushed your teeth harder in the morning.

Vi's not even attractive in the way that you would want to kiss her cheek, her skin probably sucks from waking up in the mornings, there's no way she remembers to wash her hair at least three times a week. What about her breath? There is no way that she actually brushes her teeth every day. Her breath probably tastes like stale cheetos and mountain dew. There is no way you're gonna get a single bit of pleasure from kissing her cheek.

But you do it anyway.

You press a kiss on her cheek, and it's... warm, and they burn under your lips. The smell of her body spray isn't overwhelming. It's subtle and pleasant. Her hair isn't as greasy as you imagined, and it feels kinda nice when your fingers brush against the side of her face. Her breath doesn't even smell like mountain dew and cheetos, it's actually minty and fresh, like she just ate a pack of gum.

You pull your face away before you let your brain get to you, but you just keep looking at her face because there is this huge grin plastered on her face that makes your heart beat faster. Her cheeks look red, and the tips of her ears are even red too.

The crowd goes nuts. You can barely hear the music or the announcers over the chanting. The kiss had lasted all but a few seconds, but the feeling on your lips linger.

You're both looking at each other like you've just seen each other for the very first time.

She's actually gorgeous.

How is it possible that you only now realized how beautiful she looks?

You look away, but even in your peripheral vision, you can see her looking at you. There's still a stupid grin on her face, and she looks happy.

She's actually happy that you kissed her on the cheek.

—

You and Vi are sitting in the parking lot after the game ends. Vi had bought some $5 pizza, but since the place is packed, you're now sitting in the parking lot with Vi's motorcycle parked behind you.

“I'm gonna be honest,” Vi starts, her face twisted up as she chews on a slice of pizza. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

You hum, nodding along.

Vi takes another bite, a big one, and chews on it, her cheeks stuffed. She swallows and sighs contently. “Man, I should have bought two boxes,” she grumbles, looking down at the one last slice left in the box. Then, she looks up, straight at you, and grins. “You want the last slice?” she offers, holding up the box with the slice still left in it.

You shake your head, and she looks at you with skepticism. “Are you sure you don't want it?”

“I had three slices already, I'm fine.”

Vi looks at the slice of pizza that's still in the box, then at you. She looks like she's considering something, then shrugs and pops the slice into her mouth. “Suit yourself,” she says, the words garbled since her mouth is still full of food.

Something about this moment feels... comfortable. Strangely comfortable.

It's weird. You don't understand why you don't feel threatened or uncomfortable or annoyed or any of those things, even though she's sitting right next to you.

But, oddly enough, you feel safe.

Or maybe that's just because you can't think of anything to say.

Or maybe it's because the silence isn't awkward.

Or maybe it's because you're distracted by the way she seems to enjoy her food.

Because... it's so... weirdly satisfying, watching her chew her food, watching her swallow, watching her use the back of her hand to wipe off the sauce on her chin.

You have no idea why you're paying attention to those little details.

But... you are.

You're not sure when you started paying attention to those.

You're not sure why you feel so comfortable around her right now.

You're not sure of a lot of things, actually.

You're not sure how to feel at the moment, or when your dislike of her had dwindled down to... whatever the hell this is, to whatever this weird, unfamiliar feeling in your chest is.

You're not sure why the corners of your lips keep trying to twitch upwards every time she makes some stupid face.

You're not sure why you're fine sitting in the freezing cold of the parking lot. Not even on the motorcycle, but on the cold ass ground, just sitting behind the motor, back leaned against it.

You're just fine sitting here, and you're just fine knowing that after this, you'll have to go back home and deal with a bunch of bullshit again.

You don't get it.

What changed?

She used to get on your nerves, and you used to get on hers.

She's still the same, isn't she?

And you're still the same.

Everything, suddenly, feels... different.

The air feels different, the atmosphere feels different, the whole world feels different.

The only thing that hasn't changed is her.

Well, no, that’s a lie.

She has changed.

She feels different.

She's not the same girl you can't stand.

And you're not the same girl she can't stand.

Everything is just different.

Maybe the two of you had changed.

But you're not sure how.

You're not even sure when you started noticing it.

But those little details about her, those little behaviors and quirks and habits that you used to find irritating and annoying… they're not bothering you anymore.

She's still a pain in the ass, but she's... well, a tolerable one.

For now.

You don't understand.

Or, rather, you won't allow yourself, at least not yet.

Because you're not sure how to process everything.

And, honestly, you're afraid to even try.

You look at her, still eating on the slice of pizza, and there's a small smear of sauce on the corner of her mouth. “You've got something on your face.”

She tilts her head. “I do? Where?”

Your eyes slowly move down, from her eyes to her nose, and then... her lips. Then, you notice something... freckles. She has freckles. little ones, spread across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and they're… really cute, really, really-

What in ever loving hell are you thinking?

“Hello? you alive over there?”

You snap out of it. You're not about to let her see you be weak just because she happens to have a pretty face. “You had something right… here,” before she can respond, you raise your hand, reaching for her cheek. You wipe the sauce off the corner of her mouth with your thumb. Your thumb accidentally brushes against her lower lip, and something in your chest twitches.

Vi freezes, her eyes widening as you touch her lips.

Everything feels... slower.

You can hear the sound of her breathing as she exhales, how it hitches when you brush your thumb along her lower lip.

You don't know how, or when, but you find yourself leaning closer to her, your hand still cupped on her cheek.

Her gaze flicks to your lips, her own parting slightly.

...

Holy shit.

You snatch your hand away, realizing what you just did.

Damn it, what the fuck?

You quickly stand up, trying to regain your composure. “I-” Your voice comes out as a croak. You clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “I should... get home. I think it's getting late.”

Vi is still sitting on the ground, and then she shakes her head, as if waking herself up. “...right. Yeah, it is getting late.” She slowly stands up.

“I... umm…” you start awkwardly. “I should-”

“I'll... drive you home,” she interrupts whatever you were about to say.

Your head snaps up, surprised by the offer. “What? You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, so you shut your mouth. You don't want to prolong this weird, confusing moment anyway.

—

Vi's motorcycle comes to a stop in front of your house. The engine making that clunky, sputtering sound before it finally dies.

“We're here,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence that has been between the two of you since you got on the motorcycle.

You manage to finally slide off the motorcycle, but unfortunately, you're still attached to the helmet. You attempt to unbuckle the chin strap, but the damn thing seems to be glued to your head.

“Ugh, this piece of crap,” you mutter, struggling with it.

“Here, let me-” she cuts in, reaching for the straps.

“No, I got it,” you insist.

“I know you can, but let me.”

You glare at her, feeling stubborn, but it's not like you're getting anywhere. “Fine.” You let your hands fall to your sides as she reaches for the straps.

She unbuckles it with ease, finally freeing your head from its confines.

You take the helmet off and give it to her, trying to not make eye contact. “Thanks.”

There's a moment of what could be an awkward silence before you both speak at the same time.

“So-”

“I-”

You cough awkwardly. “Go ahead.”

“No, you can speak first-”

“No, no, I insist. Go ahead-”

“I'm fine-”

“Stop being stubborn-”

“Says you-”

“Yeah, I am stubborn-"

“Shut up-”

“Make me-”

What did she say? Was that... an invitation?

“Are you challenging me-”

She snorts. “Pfft, no, that-”

“Then why would you say something like that?”

“I don't know, thought it'd be funny.”

“It wasn't.”

“It was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn't,” you scoff. “Whatever. You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, shifting on the motorcycle. “I just wanted to say…” Her gaze shifts from you to the side, then back to you. “I just wanted to... say that I had... fun today. Yeah…” She shrugs. “What about you? what were you sayin'?”

Huh. “I guess it wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“Wow,” she says, deadpan. “So glad you're not completely miserable being around me.”

“Don't get your hopes up too high, it's just for today, remember?” you remind her.

“Yeah, I remember, I'm not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me,” you retort, and a smirk makes its way to your face.

“Watch it,” she warns, the corners of her mouth curving upwards. “I'm only tolerating you today.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you quip back.

The two of you share a look and then start laughing. You're glad she's starting to loosen up a little.

“Alright alright, truce?” She holds out her fist.

You roll your eyes but bump your fist with hers anyway. “Truce.”

There's another silence, but it doesn't feel... awkward like the last ones.

Then, she speaks up, “Well... I guess I should go.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “I guess you should.”

“See you at school, then?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble. You take a step back, getting ready to turn around and head to the front door.

“Hey,” she suddenly says.

You glance back at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Can I…” she starts, then hesitates, “...can I ask you something?”

You shrug. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Just... promise me you won't be mad,” she hedges, not quite looking at you directly.

“I'm not promising anything-”

“Just... humor me.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get mad.”

She takes a deep breath. “Do... do you… do you actually hate me?” You're silent for a moment, trying to find the words, but she starts backpedaling. “Ugh, never mind, I shouldn't have asked, forget it, it doesn't matter-”

“No, no-" you interject, “I don't- I don't hate you.”

“You don't?”

“No... I don't hate you.”

“You sure?” she presses, leaning forward on the motorcycle, resting her arms on the handlebars. “Then why are you always so pissy whenever you're around me?”

“I dont-” you start, then stop. “I'm not-” you start again and stop again. “Remember that time in science lab?”

“When we lit the bunsen burner, the table caught on fire, we got three detentions, and everyone thought we were going to be expelled?” she recalls.

“Yes… that time.”

“Seriously? that was months ago.”

“I never said I was the most forgiving person.”

“It was a mistake,” she points out. “I didn't mean to do it, I was just being stupid.”

“It was still your fault. You didn't look at the instructions.”

“I was distracted,” she counters.

“By what, your big brain? cause you definitely weren't paying attention to the experiment instructions.”

She looks away, shifting uncomfortably on her motorcycle. “Actually, I was distracted by something…” her eyes return to yours, “-someone.”

“You're making it sound like it was a person you were crushing on or something.”

She falls silent, looking away again.

Wait.

Hold on.

What?

“Wait—wait a minute,” you demand, walking closer to her.

“What?”

“You were being distracted because you were crushing on someone during the science lab? That was the reason that whole thing happened? You couldn't keep yourself from being distracted because you were crushing on someone?”

“That's not fair to say,” she protests.

“Not fair to say?” you repeat, scoffing. “I literally got three detentions because you were more interested in staring at someone-”

“Fine! Whatever. Maybe I was distracted, maybe I wasn't paying attention-” she admits defensively “-maybe I was looking at-” she cuts herself off again. “Whatever, I'm going home.” She starts her motorcycle, not glancing at you.

“Hey-” you reach out, grabbing her arm. “Wait.”

“What do you want?”

“What was that person's name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Cause, I have a hunch.”

“Care to share this hunch with me?”

“Uh, Caitlyn Kiramman…?”

She snaps her head to you, eyes tracing up and down. “Are you actually this clueless?” she sneers, then drives away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” you shout. “Seriously, what is your problem?” you call out after her. “We were having a decent conversation, why did you-”

Suddenly, she stops, braking abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk with a quick skid. Before you can say, or think, she has her motorcycle facing you once again. She swings her leg over and hops off, walking up to you with a determined look.

“You want to know my problem?” she asks, coming closer. “I'll tell you my problem.” She grabs your shoulders, forcing you to step back. “My problem is that it's been years. Years, and you still have no idea, do you? you're still just as clueless as always.”

“What are you-” you stumble, struggling to keep your footing. Her hands are tight around your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You keep saying I'm the one who causes trouble, I'm the one who always makes your life harder-” she continues. “But you-”

You manage to find your footing and look at her face.

“-don't seem to get that you're just as guilty of making my life miserable.”

“Vi-” you start, but she doesn't let you finish.

“Every time you smile at me, every time you look at me, every time you talk to me.” She shakes you. “Every time you do something stupid, which is all the goddamn time,” she spits. “You don't seem to get that it drives me insane.” She huffs, letting go of you. “I've been right in front of you this whole damn time, and you just didn't even-”

“Didn't what?”

“You had no idea, did you? You don't understand why I’m so damn irritable whenever I'm with you, you don't get why I'm always trying to pick fights, why I can't just be civil, why I can't just be normal around you… you just think I'm a jerk!”

“Well, maybe you are. You did just grab me like a fucking maniac.”

“Oh, shut up,” Vi snaps. “Just shut up for a second.”

You shut up.

She takes a deep breath. “You think I enjoy this?” she asks, and the question sounds genuine enough that you regret the ‘maybe you are’ comment.

She scoffs. “I don't. I wish more than anything that I could just be calm and civil and… and nice around you. But instead, I'm always getting into your face, I'm always picking at you, I'm always trying to piss you off, because it's the only goddamn way I can get your attention.”

“Any time I try to be normal around you,” she continues, “I get... I get ignored. You act like I'm not even there. But the second I get in your face, the second I do something stupid or obnoxious-” she gestures at herself, “-suddenly, you're right there. You're looking right at me, you're talking to me, for once, you're actually paying attention to me-”

“Why do you even care about my attention?!” You don't mean for it to come out as angry as it does, but the pure confusion you feel causes you to raise your voice.

Vi looks away, a frown twisting her lips, before she snaps her gaze back to you. She sounds oddly embarrassed when she speaks. “Maybe because I'm completely, miserably, head over heels in love with you, okay?!”

Wait... what the actual fuck?

Vi looks away, the words leaving her in a rush. “I'm in love with you,” she repeats, quieter and slower. “There's no maybe about it. I've literally been in love with you since middle school.”

“So, instead... instead of just telling me,” you start, “you... you decided to be a jerk to me for the past six years?!”

“I was twelve!” Now her attention is fully on you as she gestures at herself. “I was a dumb kid, I didn't know what to do, but I was desperate for you to notice me. Every time I tried being nice, I got ignored, so... I guess I decided that if you weren't going to notice me in a good way, then I was just gonna piss you off and make you notice me in a bad way.”

“And then, I just kept doing it,” she continues, “because then, you would notice me, and you'd talk to me, and at least you weren't ignoring me. It became a habit. It was the same damn cycle every day. So, you know, I'm sorry if I don't suddenly know how to behave like a normal goddamn human being around you.”

She looks at you defiantly, she's expecting a fight, an argument, and the last thing she expects is for you to... laugh

You laugh. You don't laugh because you think it's funny, you laugh because you're so unbelievably shocked and overwhelmed that the only thing you can do is laugh. You try to cover it up, you try to muffle your laugh by bringing your hand to your mouth, but it's too late, you've already laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” she asks. “I'm being serious, okay? this isn't a joke, it's not some sort of prank. I am dead serious—I just confessed to you, and you start laughing? Jesus, you're actually heartless, you-”

You manage to get your laughter under control, your body still shaking with a few silent chuckles, but you manage to speak in between your breaths. “You have the worst-” and another chuckle, “-worst timing, I swear to god.”

“Oh I'm so sorry that my confession didn't please all of your fucking needs,” Vi says sarcastically, “but I've spent god knows how long in love with you, and I just had to take my shot. And what are you doing? You're laughing at me. Because your pride can't stand-”

“Would you shut up for like two seconds?!” you snap, cutting off her rant in an instant. “I'm not laughing because you confessed to me, okay?!”

“Then why are you laughing, huh? why is this so funny to you? because I don't find it very funny-”

“Because-” you sigh, and you're actually surprised by how... nervous you suddenly feel. “I never expected this, okay? I never expected you to actually... feel that type of way about me, and to top that, you're confessing to me in the stupidest way possible.”

“I didn't plan on confessing to you at all!” she protests. “It just... kind of happened. Plus, you've never been too keen on me.”

“I-” you begin because 'not keen on you' feels like an understatement. You've never liked her, or rather you've never let yourself even consider her as an option because your heart was set on one person only. “I just need some time to... process this.”

Vi scoffs, her face looking annoyed again. “You need time to process this? what's there to process? I just told you how I feel about you.”

“Yeah, well, I need to process that! Because you just dumped a lot of information on me, and right now I'm-” You pause, trying to pick just the right word. “...overwhelmed, okay?”

Vi's features soften, not quite fully, but just enough to show a little bit of sympathy. “Overwhelmed,” she repeats.

“Yeah…” you reply, “I mean... you just confessed to me, and I... I've never-” you gulp. “-I've never really thought of you... that way.”

“Never thought of me, or never let yourself think of me?”

Okay, woah, that's... a very accurate question.

She's right, and it's scary that she just pointed that out.

Maybe in the back of your head, you've wondered things, you've had thoughts, but it was all so brief, you've always been quick to brush them away. It never even crossed your mind that maybe you had been missing out on something.

You're not sure how to reply, and it gives Vi a chance to continue talking.

“You never let yourself think of me like that, huh?” she continues, “That's pretty sad, because I've literally been in love with you for the past six years.”

“Don't guilt trip me,” you snap. “It's not like I asked you to fall in love with me, is it?”

“I'm not guilt tripping you. I'm just trying to get you to understand how I feel. I'm just trying to make you see that I...care about you, okay? I'm not trying to—ugh!” She groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “I'm screwing this up, I'm screwing everything up, because apparently I suck at confessing and you… you mess with my head.”

“I mess with your head?” you repeat. “You're the one who's messing with my head! You're the one who's messing with my emotions, you—you just turned my entire life upside down, and you expect me to respond to it perfectly?!”

“Not perfectly!” she retorts. “You're seriously not getting it, are you? All I want is for you to-”

“What do you want then? you want me to say that I feel the same way about you? that I've secretly been in love with you for years and never said anything?”

“No, that's not what I— that's not what I want you to say at all!” She runs her fingers through her hair and pushes it out of her face because the haircut she has gets everywhere. “All I want you to say is that you'll even consider me as an option! I just want you to give me a chance. Is that so much for me to ask for?”

You groan to yourself. “Look, if you like me that much, then maybe you should at least make an effort… and then maybe... I'll give you a chance!” With that, you walk towards the front door.

Vi doesn't respond, not immediately, she just stands there watching you leave, a stunned look on her face. But she manages to shake herself out of that stupor in time to follow you.

“Are you serious...?"

“You want me? You gotta work for it,” you respond without slowing your footsteps.

“Woah woah woah, what? work for it?” she sputters, trying to keep up with you. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want-” You stop in front of the door, suddenly turning around to her. “-I want you to prove how serious you are. Just confessing to me isn't going to change everything, and if you're being serious,” you jab a finger to her chest, “then prove it.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to prove myself, huh? Please, tell me, because I'm really at a loss here.”

“I don't know, figure it out.” You shrug. “You claim to be in love with me, right? and if that really were the case, then you have six whole years worth of feelings inside that-” you point at her “-that heart of yours, and you better damn use it.”

“Fine,” she says, and her tone is determined. “You want me to prove it? I'll prove it. I'll prove it so much, you're going to be drowning in how much I prove it. I'm going to do everything just to win your heart. Just watch.”

That sounds cheesy, but... you'd be lying if you said you weren't intrigued. You scoff, turning around and opening the door, but not before saying, “We'll see about that.”

—

Vi stares at the closed door, her thoughts completely occupied with your words.

Prove it.

She shakes her head, a grin on her face as she walks back to her motor.

You and her have had a rocky past, but she's determined to wipe the slate clean.

Vi swings her leg over her motor. She grips the handles tightly and starts the ignition.

She's going to start from the ground zero with you.

And by god, she will prove herself.

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