#I hope they are interesting for someone out there :)

[nerdygirlramblings]

continued adventures of omegaverse!141

previous

an: the idea of separate task force and pack comes directly from @dragonnarrative-writes and their amazing 'Autumn Embers' series

You leave breakfast feeling both lighter and heavier. An invitation to join the 141 is a dream come true, and the idea that someone other than Captain Price was speaking favorably about your skills is intoxicating. You only know the members of the 141 by reputation, so you don't know who'd seen you on the shooting range. You wish you knew so you could properly thank them.

When he'd made the offer, Price said he'd like to speak to you more formally at 1600. You've never been anything but basic infantry, so you wonder what needs to happen to ensure your transfer into the 141. To keep yourself circling around things you can't control, you focus on leading your squad through basic land nav maneuvers.

After land nav and lunch, it's sparring and workouts in the gym. The room is busier than you like, especially as you aren't here for yourself. The constant eyes on you and your squad throw them off, but you use it to remind them all how important it is to focus despite the pressure. It certainly isn't an active battlefield, but the fight - flight - freeze reaction can help train them out of that headspace.

When it's finally time to meet Price, you dismiss your squad for the day and head to the base office complex. He told you where to find him, and you're knocking at the door a few minutes early.

"Punctual," he rumbles when he opens the door. "'s a good sign." He gestures you into his office and you notice it's spartan nature. There are only a few items in the wall: mostly awards and commendations. There's a single photo frame on the desk but positioned so only Price, or someone on his side of the desk, can see it. You wonder what it is. It must be special to be one of the few personal items in the room.

The space is dominated by a large walnut desk meant to intimidate. As if his leading 141 isn't enough. As though being an alpha, and a large one at that, wasn't already nerve-wracking for anyone sitting across from him.

He must know how the optics of the space works because he comes and sits in the chair left open next to you. He has a thin folder in his hand as he sits.

"I wanna clear the air 'bout something first. I'm sure ya know the 141's an elite task force. But we're also a pack. I know lots 'a military packs form 'cause 'a proximity: always stationed tahgether or 'round one another all the time without really bein' compatible. But that ain't us. We're compatible as a task force an' a pack. But, and I wanna stress this, being pack ain't necessary to be on the task force. Task force wan's yer skill. 'owever, if ya do join the task force, we've already decided we're open at courtin' ya, if yer open ta bein' courted."

You reel, feeling like the ground has opened underneath you. Price must notice the panic in your eyes because he forges on.

"What I got 'ere," he lifts the slim folder, " is transfer orders. Effective immediately, or as immediately as I submit 'em. They've already got my signature. Once ya sign, if yer interested in bein' on the 141, ya'd train wi' us, run drills an' simulations wi' us. Like squads, we eat tahgether an' have the same R&R. Only thing ya wouldn' do is move inta the barracks wi' us. Not unless ya decided ya wanted to be part 'a the pack. Ya'd still work wi' recruits, but ya wouldn' 'ave a specific squad."

"Wait," you interrupt, "what happens to my soldiers then, if I don't have a squad?"

Price smiles wide at that. "Lookin' out fer 'em's good. Important to the unity of the task force ta look out fer one another. But no task force sergeant has their own squad 'cause we could be sent out at any time. Tha' lack 'a consistency would be worse fer 'em. So, yeah, someone'd take yer squad."

He watches you contemplate all it would mean to become part of his task force. It's a lot, and he hopes you're still up for the challenge, because the more time he spends with you, the more he wants you on the task force and in his pack.

You finally shake off the fog in your head and ask Price for some time to think about it before fully committing. "An' I'm sorry, sir. Because I know I said yes just this morning, but I never thought I'd lose my squad." You pause for a moment before quietly adding, "An' I never imagined the offer included being part of a pack."

He catches your eye and reminds you, "Ya'd only be pack if ya wanted to be. And we'd court ya the right way. If ya wanted."

In the end he gives you the folder and says there's no official deadline for the offer, but he would appreciate a firm answer - either with signed or voided papers - within two days.

You nod, already thinking through who you wanted to consult about this when Price pulls you from your thoughts again.

"Can I make one small request?" he asks politely.

You nod, adding, "If it's reasonable, sir, absolutely."

He gifts you another smile as he leans forward and says, "Join us in the mess tonight? I'd like to officially introduce you to the lads before you make your decision."

next

[lyricwritesprose]

Philosophically speaking (and speaking as someone who is proooobably neurotypical but has autistic children as well as a strong tendency to end up as the Token Neurotypical Friend in an autistic group), small talk basically functions as a way of saying, "You are a person and so am I. We have identified each other as people and exchanged a brief People Ritual. Hello, fellow person! I may or may not ever talk to you again, but it feels good to acknowledge your existence and I hope that you, too, are a little less lonely knowing that you have made contact with another person." It's like seeing the lights of another ship when you're out on a boat at night. It doesn't directly matter that they are there, but gosh, it's sure a nice thing that there are other people in this universe.

To that end, small talk usually focuses on things that a couple of random human beings may have in common, and the above list is a pretty good one. You can, for example, generally assume that people in your vicinity are experiencing the same weather ("Man, it's a nice day, I know we needed the rain last week but it's good to see the sun again"), the same calendar ("Hey, happy New Year!"), the same general surroundings and local environment ("Do you think they'll ever get done with the construction on I-40?") and so forth. If you cannot safely assume that people are having the same experience of something—"So, like, I feel that Bernie has a point with some nuance on the whole H1-B thing but it is super surreal to see him on the same side as a bunch of idiot MAGAts who think that nuance is probably a Chinese plot"—then you do not put that stuff into small talk. (You have no idea what your small talk partner thinks of Bernie, H1-B, MAGA, China, or for that matter nuance. Too many possible failure points—avoid, avoid, avoid.)

You also want to avoid things that your small talk partner has or may have basically no experience of, which is one place where autistic people sometimes trip themselves up. "So I feel that the Virgin New Adventures in the Doctor Who expanded universe fell much too far on the side of making the Seventh Doctor a scary and near unbeatable chessmaster, when in fact his TV presentation leans far more towards whimsical, Sylvester McCoy is a strongly physical actor who was clearly playing things silly a lot of the time and that's backed up by the costuming and the fact that for heaven's sake he plays the spoons . . ." Nope. This IS a discussion that will be of deep interest to people who share your interest, but not when your conversational partner is scrambling to catch up with what is a Doctor, why are there seven or more of them, and why should I care.

Your goal here is not to inform. Your goal here is not to debate. Your goal is to establish a point of commonality. You are a person and so am I and this is how we experience our world together. And speaking as a neurotypical who struggles with loneliness due to physical disability—it can be really good, getting that little reminder that there are people in the world who are out there experiencing the same weather and the same traffic and the same days and nights.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[asvtrials]

I know you said you wanted ideas and I would love to enable the emperor brainrot. I’ve been wondering how Geta would react to women fighting in the games. I know the timing doesn’t quite work out (his father banned them from participating) but they used to, even high class women participated. The movies aren’t exactly right with the real history anyway. Just a thought I have. For someone so… bloodthirsty, I think it would be interesting…

Thank you for the suggestion, I LOVE THIS IDEA OMG! I can see him being so entranced by such a strong woman. I hope you like this <3

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

Emperor Geta x gladiator!fem!reader, minors dni! masterlist

summary: The moment the older Emperor laid eyes upon you, in the middle of the Arena, he was lost. You were encircled by corpses, every bit of your skin and clothing was coated by the red liquid of your enemies yet you looked divine, so divine that Geta wanted you for himself. warnings/tags: Gladiator reader, sub!Geta x dom!reader, ooc, power play, Geta wants to be topped and doesn't even know it lmao, p in v, choking, description of gore, death and blood

tags: @1950schick @longlivemyblues @reformedkingsmanagent @doodle-with-rhy @whimsicalittletrinkets @edsbug @jakesullyswhore @only4thefics @lillissleepmedicine @badbun5656 @cokepowder55 @idolofthewestcoast @www-interludeshadow-com @ellie-luvsfics @cosmorant @believeinthefireflies95 w/c: 3.7k English is not my first language and I'm not used to writing in present tense. Sorry for any mistakes I make.

── ୨ৎ

The moment he laid eyes on you, Geta knew he was done for.

You were breathtaking in every way he could think of, so much so that even Caracalla noticed his breath catching in his throat as they gazed below from their box.

He knew you weren’t meant for everyone’s eyes.

Your golden skin, dark curls, soft lips, and doe eyes were of such contrast to the tight grip you had on your sword and the redness that stained your clothes. It was all too intense to ignore so that same night he ordered your master to bring you to the palace.

He taps his foot against the marble floor the longer it takes for you to arrive and Caracalla's cackle echoes in the vast room at Geta’s boyish behavior. Geta sends him a warning glare but immediately turns when he hears Thraex’s voice.

“My Emperors!” He calls cheerfully as a servant leads him to the twin thrones. 

He almost forgets to regard Thraex as he searches for you but sends a tight-lipped smile before his eyes fall on your figure. You stand behind your owner, eyes refusing to look away from the floor.

“Thraex!” Caracalla welcomes, throwing his hands in childish delight. “Incredible performance today! You never fail to entertain us!”

“My Emperors I see you have been charmed by this beauty! I don't blame you it's not every day that we see female Gladiators.” He boasts, grabbing your face rather harshly and forcing you to face the Emperors.

Gods, you were even more mesmerizing up close. He didn’t appreciate how Thraex touched you thoughtlessly, his brow twitching at the sight of his dirty nails digging into your cheeks.

The Emperor steps forward and with one wave of his hand, Thraex quickly withdraws his hand and steps to the side. 

Geta doesn't even look at him, he is too lost in your confusing gaze. For once he doesn’t see any admiration or even fear in someone’s eyes. It is something different, so foreign and electrifying…

“How shall we call you, warrior?” He asks, his voice surprisingly stern despite his internal feverish excitement.

“Her name is—” Thraex begins but Geta raises his hand, silencing him immediately.

You remain quiet, unsure of what to do. You weren't told you'd have to speak. Honestly, you weren't given much information to begin with. They just hoarded you to the carriage and brought you here.

You give an uncertain glance to Thraex but your eyes snap back to the man before you when speaks again.

“Don't look at him.” Geta reprimands. “Look at your Emperor,” He says and you can practically feel the arrogance as the word ‘Emperor’ leaves his mouth.

“Emperors!” Caracalla yells from his throne but Geta ignores him.

“How shall we call you?” He repeats, dismissing his co-emperor.

“Y/n.” Your voice is strained when you speak but his lips twitch upwards at the sound.

“Y/n… Delightful.” He murmurs as he searches your eyes for something even he isn’t sure.

“Thank you, Thraex. The servants will lead you out.” He tells the older man who frowns. He wasn’t prepared to walk out without a slave this evening.

“My Emperor, um…” He stammers. “She is rather expensive and I-”

“I can see that.” He interrupts and his eyes run down your figure. His hungry gaze sends a shiver down your spine but you try to ignore it.

“She will stay in the Palatine until her next game, that is if she fights again.” He informs the man, finally turning to him, but not for long. His attention was back to you, his finger reaching for one of your curls. “I'll see how she'll do today and I'll inform you. Do not fret, You will be compensated.”

You narrow your eyes, the implication barely hidden between his words.

You didn't look away from him even when the maids hurried you out of the room. It wasn't out of attraction, although you have to admit he wasn't bad, it was because of fear. 

This felt like the beginning of a very dangerous game. Being faced with hungry predator, yet not being eaten. Waiting for the blow, yet never being hit…

Never sure when you’re going to be devoured, broken, and ruined completely until you're tossed to the side.

The maids lead you to the servants' bathrooms. Normally, you would feel revolted at how they touch you and scuff you, but getting clean after so many days silences any negative emotion.

It was painfully obvious that they were ordered to prepare you as fast as possible. The uncomfortable discovery of just how impatient the man was hangs above you as they dress you. As much as you want to pretend you can handle Geta he remained the Emperor of Rome. A spoiled, entitled Emperor who is used to getting his way…

The servants guide you to his chambers with hushed whispers that you don’t bother tuning to. You take a deep breath as you stand in front of the large doors of his bedroom, uncomfortable in the thin dress they put on you.

A servant gives you a light push resulting in you sending her a glare but you do comply. 

Softly, you give the heavy door a few knocks with your knuckles. You don’t wait much until a “Come in.” reaches your ears.

You enter the grand room and you have to pause for a minute to let it all in. The luxurious furnishing and decor of the bed chambers are a stark difference from the muddy cells they provided to you. It is beyond anything you’d seen before. Geta smirks at your astonishment.

“Come, my little warrior.” He orders, his voice honeyed despite his authority.

“What am I here for?” You ask as you approach him, disinterested in idle chit-chat. As much as the venom threatens to spill from your tone, you make a real effort to sound as polite.

Geta doesn't bother giving you an answer. He merely extends his hand, bringing the back of his hand close to your face, expecting you to comply with his every command.

You hate that he is right. As much as you want to spit on his face you want to keep your head, the promise of living long enough to win your freedom was such a flickering hopeful thought but it kept you from making foolish decisions like spitting on your Emperor’s face.

You eye his fingers, the rings that adorned almost all of them shine in the candlelight. Bitterly, your cold hand reaches for his, and the moment you feel his tender flesh against your lips you feel nauseous but he doesn’t seem to notice, or more accurately, care. His fingers twitch at the contact.

Tender and delicate.

If it isn’t clear by his behavior or extravagant attire that he knew nothing about work, pain, or how it felt to beg for a moldy piece of bread, the softness of his hands made it very clear.

He knows nothing about the suffering that he and his brother put everyone through. Gods, you want to rip him apart.

“What am I here for?” You repeat, dragging each word as if you're talking to a child.

“To entertain me. Aren't you an entertainer?” He answers with a small smirk threatening at the corner of his lips.

“I am a Gladiator.” You correct sharply.

“I see no difference.” He chuckles, stepping back to a table filled with food and wine.

He pours himself some wine, offering you some as well. Although you want to act cold and refuse the liquid looked too tasteful. You accept, bringing the cup to your lips without words. It is as delicious as it looks and you close your eyes for a moment to relish the taste.

“Divine isn't it?” He asks, a pleased smile playing on his lips. You snap your eyes open, mentally slapping yourself for giving him the satisfaction. You nod, setting the cup on the table.

Suddenly he steps forward, closing the gap between you. “You must already understand that I didn't call you here to drink.” He says, bringing his hand to sit on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing your collarbone.

“I am no whore.” You warned, pushing his hand away

His eyes darkened at your words “You are whatever I want you to be.” He says through gritted teeth.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t bite your tongue. “That is what you believe, huh?” You begin, a dry chuckle leaving your lips. “You think we are ants in your Empire?”

He tilts his head, eye twitching. He starts at you as if trying to figure out what he should do to you. The taste of defiance from someone like you was far beyond what he had anticipated for this meeting…He isn’t sure why but it left a sweet aftertaste. Intoxicating is the only word that comes to mind.

Soon enough he snaps out of this mind-fogging haze and grabs your arm harshly. You don’t even flinch, it couldn’t compare to the hardship you had gotten through in the arena.

“Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?” He warns, voice breaking in a mix of surprise and fury.

Something compels you in that moment. Is it anger after seeing the lavish life he has while you were rotting away in a cell? Is it a surge of power after bashing the Emperor himself?

You grab his wrist, your grip tight and unforgiving. His eyes widen, glancing between your hand and eyes.

You can’t help the smirk that falls upon your lips when worry flashes in his eyes. It was only for a second but you have seen it too many times to miss it. You don’t miss the way he didn’t pull away either.

A small breath slithers past his lips as he stares down at you, the darkness in his eyes almost gone in the candlelight.

“You’ve brought me here to claim me…You think you can?” You tell him and his look alone was worth your possible execution.

“You dare underestimate me, you worthless—”

“I can snap your wrist like a twig” You interrupt him with a chuckle.

He raises an unconvinced brow.

You convince him just fine with a calculated press of your thumb against his bone. He hisses in pain but he doesn’t pull his hand back.

“But I think you would like that, My Emperor,” You tell him with a wicked smile. It is barely above a whisper but it’s enough to make Geta’s breath catch in his throat. “All you have to do is ask…” 

You can’t believe it. Emperor Geta, the ruthless and heartless Ceasar looking at you like he was about to kneel and kiss your feet if you let him, have his head if you wished for it.

“Can you—” He begins the words catching in his throat, shame catching up to him faster than his words could leave his mouth. “Join me tonight?” He finally manages to say, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Something warm spreads across your chest and your fingers twitch around his wrist before ultimately loosening your grip.

He lets you guide him to the bed without a word. He doesn’t even look back, his eyes already too foggy with desire. Once the back of his legs meet the edge of the bed, he lowers himself.

Geta’s breath fans your stomach, and the thin material of your cloth barely covers you and you shiver. His hands ich to reach for you, to wrap his hands around your waist and drag his lips all over your skin like a starved man but he restraines, looking up at you through his lashes.

Your smirk grows wider at his obedience. 

Your hand snakes up his arm and rests on his throat and he groans, a sound dangerously close to whimper. Shame washes over you when you find your thighs pressing together at such a pitiful sound. 

“My Emperor, did you know…” You begin and Geta forces himself back to reality at the sound of your voice. “That if you slice this little vein, right here—” You murmur while gently running your thumb on a prominent vein in his throat, your tone soothing completely unsuitable for your words. “Death will find you slow and painful…Such feeble beings we are…”

“Have you ever done it?” He asks, nearly innocently. “Given someone a slow and painful death?”

“You would’ve known.” You sneer, your mocking laugh making his cheeks burn.

So you have noticed him looking at you, even when the fight was long finished and you were resting against the burning sand, bodies gushing with blood surrounding you.

His hand creeps up your arm,  A silent plea for you to give him what he wants. So you do.

You squeeze your fingers around his throat making him gasp in surprise. The breathy moan that escaped his lips tell everything you need to know and you press your fingers tighter, your nails digging into his incredibly soft skin.

He throws his head back, gasping desperately. His hand slides down to his stomach but before he could move any further you grab his arm, pinning it against the mattress.

Has he ever felt this weak, this vulnerable? You hoped the answer was no. How could you imagine anyone else seeing him in such a state?

He snaps his eyes open, half-lidded eyes staring back at you with such desperation that you had to resist the urge to give up on whatever this little game was and just sink on his dick already.

“You are enjoying yourself, my Ceasar?” You mock but he doesn’t notice the ridicule in your voice, perhaps he is too used to his enjoyment being everyone’s concern. His answer comes in an eager nod.

Your gaze travels down his body, your eyes lingering on him longer than you would ever admit.

Your eyebrows shoot up when you notice the tent in his toga. 

You could see he likes it but not that much.

Without much thought you climb the bed, the mattress dipping under your knees as you cradle his lap. 

“Mmm…” You purse your lips to stop the sounds that threaten to spill from your lips when you feel his hardness press against your clothed core.

His mind is too far gone, too deprived of oxygen to understand much; he could only whimper softly at the friction.

His breaths come more shallow than before and his hand grips yours.

It would be so easy to just squeeze. He wouldn’t even scream, how would he when all the oxygen was stolen from his lungs?

Nonetheless, you release your grip no matter how tempting the idea is.

He gasps for air, his hand coming to rub his throat, throwing his head back with a long sigh, desperate to fill his lungs again.

Once he finally realizes the position that you've arranged yourself in, his other hand comes to your thing, squeezing lightly as if to ground himself.

You hate that you welcome the action, his warm hands feel begrudgingly pleasant on your skin.

You let him come back to reality, waiting until his chest moves slowly again. He wet his lips with his tongue as his eyes try to focus and for the first time, you notice the tears that sit on his lash line.

You want to taunt him, to call him every degrading name that sat on your tongue moments ago but you simply can’t. Not when he looks at you like he would break apart at any moment. No—when he looks at you like he wants you to break him apart.

So you do the next best thing you can think of, or more accurately, your body can think of. You roll your hips forward, earning a gasp from the both of you.

Both his hands fly to grasp your thighs tighter as you repeat the motion and again until he shakes under you, throwing his head back with a whine.

“I—I want you.” He rasps between soft moans, his voice soft and pleasing.

You pause contemplating for a moment if you should do it the easy way. You have to laugh because why would you?

“You want me?” You repeat with a taunting giggle, grabbing his jaw between your fingers, and forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Yes.” The word comes out in a quick, desperate breath, so fast that it makes your mocking smirk falter for a moment.

“How pitiful. Imagine the Senate seeing you like this. Bet you'll lose what little respect they have for you.” You snicker, running your thumb over his cheek. His only response was digging his nails into the flesh of your thigh.

His reddened eyes blink rapidly but you can still notice the blown-out pupils when you untie his robes, deliberately taking your time. You suppress a smile as he shifts uncomfortably.

Once you finally unbit the belt of his luxurious robe, you toss it to the side completely bypassing the worth of the material. You try to ignore the sudden shake that took over your fingers as you carefully move away his robes, revealing his finely muscled body.

His leaking cock springs up, laying against his stomach and you felt even more self-conscious by simply looking.

A small prideful smile creeps to his lips. You send him a warning glare but he seems to gain his confidence rather quickly, not missing the opportunity to gloat over your little slip-up.

He sits up, the cheeky smile never leaving his lips. “Are you enjoying yourself, my little warrior?” He taunts your previous words.

You narrow your eyes, squeezing his face between your fingers in irritation but his smirk doesn’t falter until you move your hands to your own belt. His tongue runs across his bottom lip, nearly salivating at the thought of your naked body.

You pull your dress over your head hastily revealing your naked body to the man. His gaze explores you with a starving intensity. His hands quickly reach for your flush skin but you swat them away. 

Geta is about to send you an irritated look but you are quicker, grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head back. 

He groans and despite his momentary surge of confidence, he doesn’t do anything to stop you but rather bites his lip to stop any embarrassing sound from escaping. 

“So spoiled.” You spit out, pulling harder on his locks.

That little motion seems to break him apart completely as a breathy moan reaches your ears.

“Do you really want me?” You murmur and he nods but that doesn't satisfy you. 

Why should it? You want to hear him beg and cry for you, swallow his pride completely under the promise of pleasure.

You yank his hair harder, making him huff in surprise louder. 

“Yes, I want you. I really want you.” He manages to say through rugged breaths. “...my lady.”

“Good.” You say and you can see something flicker in his eyes at the sudden praise. 

You let go of his hair and rest your hands on his shoulders. With a small push, you lift your bare body from his. Your hand finds his member, aligning it to your entrance and he chokes. You run his tip between your folds making both of you exhale at the feeling.

With a deep breath, you slowly sink down his length. No matter how much you try to keep quiet you simply can't. You can’t help the lewd moans at the burning sensation alongside Geta who hugs your waist, pressing his face between your breasts.

You should've pushed him away, you really tried to make yourself do it. But instead, you run your fingers through his unruly hair, the pleasure too mind-numbing for the both of you to keep up with this game. 

Geta doesn’t miss the opportunity to taste you, kissing and licking your skin hungrily. It started between your breasts, his teeth grazing your skin with every kiss.

His eagerness sends shivers down your spine and a loud moan leaves your mouth when his lips latch onto your nipple, catching it between his teeth and circling it with his tongue.

His hips buckle, drilling his cock deeper into your creamy folds. You moan loudly, grasping his shoulders.

He pauses for a moment, expecting punishment but when all you do is cry out in pleasure his lips curl, his smile mirroring one of a crazed man.

It is for the better that you don’t see the delight on his face. You would never forgive yourself after seeing the pleasure he took in seeing you like this.

Geta’s pace quickly deteriorates into something primal and desperate. Something so uncontrollable that even you couldn't stop. But even if you could, you doubt you would. 

Your nails rake his back with every forceful slam and you cry out when his tip grazes that spongy spot inside you, legs shaking in pleasure. 

“Oh! Oh— Gods!” You moan, sinking your nails into his back.

With a groan, he releases your nipple from his mouth and raises his head, his blown out eyes falling on your face.

You meet his hungry gaze but only for a second before your eyes travel to his spit-covered lips and without much thought, you grab his hair and pull him to you, slamming his lips on yours.

He doesn’t miss a beat and kisses you back with the same insatiable hunger that fills your chest.

You claw and bite and kiss him like he was your last meal. And he possibly is because once the fog of lust wears off he will surely command a public execution.

Your lips part in a silent moan, lost in bliss at the violent orgasm that just hit you harder than you’ve ever experienced. Your walls flutter around his twitching dick and he whines at the feeling. He comes with a loud moan, lips pressing against you as he spills his seed deep inside you. He pushes you close, pressing your chest against his face as you both breathe heavily.

He murmurs something against your skin but you ignore him. You will later find out that it was a quiet promise, not to you but to himself; to keep you as close as he could even if it meant stopping the following games altogether, even if it meant locking you somewhere only he could see you.

── ୨ৎ

a/n: This was a PAIN to write. I was left suffering. I hope you like it and i'm REALLY sorry for delaying this for so long! I think I had such a hard time because 1) sub!Geta feels so out of character and I tried to make this as in character for him and 2) I had no time to write cuz of all the family dinners.

[joeyfranchise]

all tangled up in the moon

justin herbert x fem!reader

summary: you finally began feeling open to dating in your new home of sunny la, especially since your best friend didn’t love you back the way you loved him… unless he did? a telling double date begins unraveling feelings that you didn’t know were shared…

warnings: pining/mutual pining. expressions of feelings. a LOT of fluff. explicit sexual content, MDNI. 18+ only.

word count: 6.3k.

note: my first ever justin fic!! based on so many ideas from my bestie @joeyburrrow, also happy belated birthday btw 🫂 i’m sorry i didn’t get it posted yesterday! but, she and i have talked about so much of this and this fic truly is for her. ALSO— FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS FIC ONLY— i made justin allergic to walnuts. idk if he is or not, but it’ll make sense when you get there. i hope you like this. love you all. 💗

the dating pool in los angeles was nothing short of horrible.

sure, there were tons of people, which meant tons of options… but that also lead to some problems. there was so much diversity around, which again, is great… but it often led to mismatched partners and having trouble finding someone with all of the same interests or morals or values as you.

that being said, while messing around on dating apps, you found yourself a date that ticked more of your boxes than anyone else had since you moved to the sunny city.

his name was damon, and he worked at a law firm that wasn’t too far from your own nine-to-five job. his profile said he was 6’2, in his pictures he displayed a beautiful smile, and his interests were similar enough to yours that you figured why not give it a chance?

when you swiped right he’d messaged you nearly immediately, which could’ve been a red flag, but he kept it sweet and professional. his personality shined through his messages and you found yourself genuinely laughing at some of his jokes, and that was always a good sign.

you ran into one little problem though. you didn’t really know anyone else in l.a. except for your best friend, therefore you didn’t have many people to trust. sure, you had coworkers and acquaintances in the office, but none of them were around you enough to be able to vet through suitors from your dating life to let you know who would work and who wouldn’t.

you were also afraid to go out with someone new alone, and you blamed that on being an introvert. you ultimately made the decision that either damon would have to be okay with your first date being a double date, or you just wouldn’t go. when damon agreed it was fine, you called justin worriedly - this was going to be the hard part.

he picked up after two rings.

“is this the krusty krab?” you asked teasingly, smiling as you heard him huff out a brief laugh. he lowered his voice before answering.

“no, this is patrick.”

“yeah, justin patrick,” you teased, “unless i called the wrong brother.” you chewed on your bottom lip as you heard him chuckle again.

“that’s my name! don’t wear it out.” he joked. you could practically see the dumb grin already etched across his face. you remained silent for a moment, the weight of the question weighing on you. when you didn’t respond, justin took the lead of the conversation again.

“hey, y/n? you okay? not that i mind you calling me, of course i don’t mind… but did you need something? is everything alright?” you appreciated his ability to talk you down in moments like this, it was like he could sense your nerves even from miles away, and over a phone call.

“i’m okay. but i have a tiny favor to ask. you know you’re my most favorite best friend in the wholeee world, right?” you laughed, trying to push past the anxiety of the question you needed to ask him. “i do. what’s the favor?”

“i have a date friday night and i’ve never met him before. i didn’t know anyone else to ask and.. i was hoping maybe you and chloe could come along? like a double date?”

justin and chloe had started seeing each other recently, and you liked her enough not to really worry about their relationship. sure, she was living your dream being with justin, but you practically knew he didn’t feel the same about you. while you were completely and utterly in love with him, he still saw you as his best friend, and you had learned to accept it.

when you first met chloe you knew she wasn’t his type, she was completely different from justin… but he seemed happy, and that’s all you ever wanted for him. she was excited to meet you too, and in the few times you’d seen her since she was always genuine and kind.

“i think we can make that work, i should be out of practice in time. i’ll let chloe know and then we can figure out where to go. there’s a new restaurant downtown she and i went to a few weeks ago, you’d love it. they have really good raspberry cheesecake!” he said.

“oooh my favorite!” you cheered, already daydreaming of the delicious confection.

“i know.” he agreed. you smiled on the other end of the line, the way he knew you from cover to cover made your heart ache. you only hoped damon - and if not him, then whoever was destined for you - could be such a wonderful lover to you. someone who truly cared to learn everything there was to know about you, just like you and justin did with each other, even if only as friends.

you and justin talked for a bit longer over menial things before you ended the call, bidding him a goodnight. you made sure to text damon about your plans, letting him know you’d get back to him about a time as soon as you could.

he was excited for your date, and also excited to meet justin. you learned damon was a big fan of sports, and even though he wasn’t a chargers fan, he still really liked justin and thought he was a great player. he didn’t believe you when you first told him justin was your best friend, you had to provide him with photo evidence. the whole ordeal made you laugh. after chatting briefly with damon you put your phone on your bedside table before rolling over and getting cozy under your blankets.

you went to bed with a smile on your face that night, excited for your date with damon and also excited for him to meet your best friend.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you sailed through the week on a high, and when friday night came you were still feeling ecstatic. you were still a little anxious about going out and meeting damon in person for the first time, but getting to know him through the week had helped you warm up a little and let your guard down.

you decided on wearing a simple black dress, classy yet not too-fancy. you curled your hair and applied a light layer of makeup before slipping on a pair of strappy black heels.

you planned on meeting justin and chloe at the restaurant at seven, giving everyone enough time to get ready and allowing justin to shower and freshen up after practice.

damon picked you up at six-thirty. he met you at your door with flowers which you graciously accepted, and you excused yourself to bring them inside and put them in water before locking up and going with damon to his car.

he opened your door for you and you slid in, buckling your seatbelt as you waited for him to get in and start the engine. it was a bit chilly out and you were grateful when damon turned up the heat before backing out of your driveway and heading to the restaurant.

you chatted with him on the drive and it was pretty pleasant, you were thankful that the conversation between you both flowed easily. you learned that his favorite football team was the los angeles rams, and you joked with him that he’d need to let you out of the car immediately because you wouldn’t stand for that nonsense.

he laughed heartily at your joke. he talked to you more about his job, you learned he was a paralegal and that he’d been in the profession for nearly four years. you told him about your experience working in human resources and you related over shared experiences.

when you arrived to the restaurant damon parked and came around to open your door, and you were quickly met by justin and chloe. damon and justin shook hands and introduced themselves to each other as you greeted chloe.

“i love your dress!” she smiled, you thanked her. “you look incredible too, chloe!”

she wore a light blue dress that came down mid-thigh and had long sleeves. she wore black heels as well, and you loved the glittery eyeshadow she had put on.

the four of you walked into the restaurant and justin spoke to the host about reservations he had so graciously called in - which you thanked him immensely for. the host led your party to a table toward the back of the restaurant and you all sat. damon made sure to pull out your chair, and justin did the same for chloe.

the waitress came by shortly after for your drink orders, you and justin both got water. chloe ordered a riesling and damon ordered a cabernet, which you found amusing. you didn’t say anything about it, though.

the waitress brought your drinks quickly and she also brought a basket of bread for the table, with little cups of cinnamon butter. you indulged in one as you listened to justin and damon begin chatting about football.

you and chloe began to chime in at times, and the atmosphere was nice. you and damon also engaged in your own quiet conversation every now and then, and you were starting to like it every time he’d flash you his award winning smile… until justin would smile at you from across the table. in those moments, you knew who your heart truly belonged to.

a few times during dinner the conversations would ebb off, or the input from chloe and damon would stop, leaving only you and justin talking to each other.

the waitress brought your food and you all began dining, while still chatting here and there about work and sports and things of that nature. the waitress came back around a bit later to take plates and your dessert orders. the men continued to talk while you and chloe ordered, with you asking for cheesecake and chloe ordering a fudgy brownie.

something damon said reminded justin of something he needed to tell you, and he turned his attention toward you quickly.

“y/n, i was meaning to tell you that my uncle had some students interested in trying to make a car run on vegetable oil.” you laughed at his statement before giving your input.

“so what, they want to install a second fuel tank i’m assuming? so the vehicle can run on diesel til it’s hot enough and then they’ll switch to the oil?” you ask. “yeah exactly. i thought it sounded pretty cool.” justin smiles. “sounds like a waste of time to me.” you say amusedly. justin tilts his head and gives you a questioning glance.

“it’s totally not a waste of time. if they can figure out how to do it, it’ll be pretty sick.” he disagrees. damon glances between you before chiming in. “i think it’d be pretty cool too!” he agrees with justin.

“do you know how many times they’d have to filter the oil before they could even use it? and they’d have to make sure to install a solenoid valve to switch between two fuel tanks. too much work.” you say, crossing your arms and looking back and forth between both men. chloe says nothing, you assume she has no idea what any of you are talking about.

you noticed damon checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and rejoining your conversation, but mostly listening to you and justin bicker.

“it totally reminded me of that 70s show though, you know? when hyde says ��there’s this car…. and it runs on water, man!’” justin laughs, doing a pretty decent impression of the character.

“i just feel like making modifications to your car so it could run off vegetable oil is a waste of time.” you say, leaning back slightly in your chair. justin’s girlfriend looks between the two of you with an odd look on her face, only breaking focus when she sees the waitress approaching again.

“here’s the double chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream,” she says, placing the plate in front of chloe, “and here are the slices of raspberry cheesecake.”

she places the plate in front of you and damon is quick to grab it, sliding his piece of cheesecake onto one of the extra serving plates. chloe picks her fork up excitedly, slicing into the brownie and taking a small bite. her eyes roll as she tastes it, the richness of the chocolate has to be delectable. you watch as she cuts another small bite, this time more toward the center of the brownie where you can see it has small pieces of walnut in it.

she reaches over to cup justin’s jaw, squeezing a bit to get him to open his mouth so she can feed it to him. you ignore the slightly jealous feeling bubbling in your stomach as she brings it closer to his mouth, but you can’t get your words out. justin looks at her with a puzzled expression. he hadn’t been paying attention to her or what she ordered, so he has no idea what she’s about to feed him.

as if on instinct, your hand shot across the table and closed around her wrist, stopping her from feeding him. “s-sorry.. uh, justin is allergic to walnuts.” you say, lowering your gaze so you don’t make eye contact with her. she lets go of his jaw and he shrugs sheepishly.

“sorry baby.” she tells him, eating the bite for herself. “it’s okay.” justin replies. his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, nervous energy is shared between you. damon watches the entire ordeal silently, passing glances between the three of you as he eats his dessert.

you pick up your fork and take a bite too, and the tartness of the raspberry dances across your tongue in a pleasant way. justin was right with his recommendation, this restaurant truly is amazing. damon and justin begin conversing again, and you stay quiet as you eat, listening attentively.

chloe chimes in a few times, earning laughs from both men with her unintentional humor. you slide the last bite of cheesecake on your fork and bring it to your lips, ready to enjoy it, when suddenly your fork is plucked from your hand. you look up to find justin eating the last bite straight off of your fork. yours.

while you’re on a double date. with other people.

your gaze quickly flips from justin to chloe and then to damon as you try to gauge their expressions. damon doesn’t seem to notice or care as he continues talking about football, and justin nods along with what damon is saying as if this ordeal was the most normal thing that has ever happened.

sure, you and justin are close enough to eat off each others forks and sometimes even drink from the same cup or can, but the fact that he did it on a double date baffled you. neither of the men at the table seemed to be giving it a second thought, but when your gaze shifts to chloe you can tell she’s perturbed in some way. her eyes are slightly squinted as she looks you up and and down, and then her gaze shifts to justin as she does the same to him.

you continue to sit quietly at the table, listening to the men talk. chloe stays quiet, too. the tension between the two of you feels almost palpable.

you would never want to come between her and justin, even if you did have feelings for him throughout all these years.

the rest of the time spent in the restaurant went by in a blur. eventually damon and justin stopped talking, realizing that you and chloe hadn’t shared a word, and they mutually decided that dinner should be over.

damon and justin split the checks and pay before each of you stand from the table to leave. when you make it outside you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, you’ve felt like you were suffocating for the last fifteen minutes. all of you say goodbye to each other before you get into damon’s car, and chloe into justin’s.

the drive back to your house is quiet. you’re anxious, your throat feels tight and you know your cheeks must be incredibly pink. damon hasn’t even glanced at you and you’re afraid to say a word because if you do you’ll start crying.

he finally pulls into your drive and parks the car before looking at you for the first time since you left the restaurant. you wring your hands together before looking back at him, expecting the worst.

“that was fun, justin is a really nice guy.” his voice is genuine as he speaks to you, but you’re prepared for where this is going. “he loves you, y/n.”

you look at him with bewilderment as he continues speaking. you want to say something, but he holds up a finger to tell you to wait. “before you start with the whole ‘he doesn’t feel that way about me’ spiel, he does. i saw how you looked at each other all night. he doesn’t look at her like that.”

tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes as he speaks, and you turn your gaze from his so he won’t see. “you love each other, y/n. it’s okay. i had fun, i’m glad i met you.” he says, reaching over the console to grab your hand. he gives it a gentle squeeze and you look back up at him as he smiles at you. “i would like to be your friend, if that’s okay.”

“yeah, we can stay friends, of course.” you tell him. he lets go of your hand and gets out of the car, circling around to get your door and walk you up the front steps. before you can walk up damon pulls you in for a hug, which you reluctantly accept.

“it was nice meeting and going out with you, y/n. don’t be a stranger!” he says, and then he lets you go and gets back into his car, driving off down the street.

you let yourself in the house and lock the door behind you before collapsing on the couch. you don’t have the energy to move, to take off your shoes, or to even be worried about your makeup.

you just sit there, and you cry. you cry for all the lost time, if it is true and he does love you. and if damon’s wrong, and you do take the time to tell justin how you feel and he rejects you… well, you should go ahead and cry for that too. you cry for the only boy you’ve ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

justin buckles his seatbelt and holds his foot down on the brake before backing out of his parking spot at the restaurant, ready to get home and into more comfortable clothing. chloe sits beside him silent, like she did for most of the dinner.

he spares a glance her way and notices her posture is rigid, her lips are pressed into a tight, thin line. justin reaches over to grasp her hand but she flinches away from his touch.

“are you okay?” he asks her, his tone concerned. “i’m okay. can you take me to my house, please?” she asks. her voice sounds small, she sounds upset.

“of course.” justin agrees. they hadn’t been dating long enough to make the steps to move in together, but chloe frequented his house often as long as he was home. he thought it was a bit strange that she wanted to go home, but he waited to question it.

when he pulled in her driveway and parked she was quick to jump out of the car and make her way inside. justin turned the car off and pocketed the keys before following chloe inside.

“um, is everything okay?” he asked, stepping into the living room. “no. we need to talk.” chloe said, sitting down on the couch. justin sat next to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee as he waited for her to speak.

“i think we should break up.”

justin is taken aback by her confession, but he doesn’t speak. he waits to hear her out. “i really like you, justin. and i think you like me. but you don’t love me. and you never will, because you love someone else.”

“what?” he asks, his tone incredulous. “you love y/n, justin. you know it, i know it, everyone on the planet knows it… except for her. i think you’re both idiots.” chloe smiles softly.

justin looks around the room nervously, waiting for chloe to speak again. “you’re both idiots because what you’ve been looking for has been in front of you the whole time. it was obvious you two should have been on a date. you both carried the conversation, you were doing silly impressions to make her laugh… you look at her like she’s your most prized possession, justin.”

he takes a deep breath before looking at chloe and finally speaking. “i’m sorry.” is all he’s able to mutter out.

“you don’t need to apologize. i’ll admit, i was upset at first. but on the drive i thought about it, and i just want you to be happy. and i figured someone needed to tell you that girl loves you, because if the two of you have been friends this long and you haven’t figured it out, i’m afraid you never will.” she laughs. “and god, i didn’t even know you were allergic to walnuts.”

justin laughs too before reaching over and pulling chloe into him for a hug. “thank you for telling me all that… and i am sorry. i really am.”

“it’s okay, justin. just get the girl, okay?” she says, shooing him out the door. he waves goodbye before walking off to his car and heading home.

when he arrives home he sits in the driveway pondering… did you really love him back? and if you have, how long? and what was he going to do?

he thinks of all the time he’s lost out on if it’s true, and you do love him back. he’d supressed the feelings for as long as he could remember because he never knew he had a chance - he never thought he’d be the one for you. and if he wasn’t he knew it’d break him, but all he wanted was your happiness.

all he knew right now was that he loved you, that you were the only girl he’d ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you don’t talk to justin for a week.

you’re afraid to. usually, he’s the first person you run to about anything, but since the subject matter is him, you feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. you spend the entire week sad, crying into your coffee or whatever dinner you’ve chosen to eat after work (usually cereal), and watching lifetime movies that are guaranteed to make you feel worse - they make the longing in your chest burn.

justin finally texts you on friday night, and you’re afraid to open it. you let it sit unread for half an hour before your phone starts ringing on the end table. it’s justin, you know it is, but you’re afraid to answer. you pick up your phone slowly and slide your thumb across the screen to answer the call.

“hello?” you sniffle, picking up a tissue to wipe your nose. “hey y/n, you okay?” justin asks.

“yeah, lifetime movie, sorry. what’s up?”

“just wanted to see if you wanna come over and hangout? i haven’t heard from you all week, i miss you.” he says. you miss him too. but are you ready to see him after what happened?

against your better judgment, you agree to go over. after all, he is your best friend. if anyone can get you feeling better, it’s justin. you hang up the call and slide on your slippers before grabbing your keys and phone and heading over to his house.

you didn’t bother changing, you didn’t care what you looked like in front of him. he’d seen you sick as a dog before, he even held your hair when you puked a few times, so he could handle seeing you in an old ratty tshirt and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big.

there’s also no way he could ever judge you for having greasy hair.

you make the quick drive to his place and you almost panic and leave before calming yourself down and walking to the front door. it’s just justin. this is no big deal.

you knock twice but you know he already knows you’re there, and he swings the door open quickly before pulling you into a tight hug. physical affection is something you both enjoy, and you’ve missed him. you wrap your arms tightly around him and squeeze back.

justin laughs as he looks down at you. “sometimes i forget how small you are.”

“or maybe you’re sasquatch.” you say, giving him a shove. he lets go and steps aside so you can get in the door, and you waste no time in sliding your slippers off plopping down on his couch. you notice his house seems a little… different, but you can’t put your finger on it.

justin closes the door and makes his way over to you, acting like he’s going to sit on your lap. “don’t even think about it.” you tell him, bringing your legs up to your chest. he sits next to you and leans into your side.

“how was your week?” he asks you innocently. “it was horrible.” you reply. you share the most miniscule details with him when he tries pressing you further, because you’re too afraid to tell him what’s really wrong. justin listens intently either way, hoping to find something he can do to make you feel better.

“well how’s it been with damon?” he finally asks, and you freeze. justin moves so he can lay his head on your lap, and he straightens out your legs before doing so. your hand naturally finds its way into his hair, your nails raking along his scalp soothingly. he shudders.

“damon um… well. he didn’t wanna go on another date. it wasn’t because he didn’t like me, though. he just said… he could tell u didn’t like him.”

justin hums softly. “interesting.” he says.

“what’s interesting?” you ask him. “chloe broke up with me.”

“WHAT?” you shout, startling him a bit. “sorry… i mean, what? why? i thought you guys really liked each other?”

“well, she liked me a lot. and i liked her but… i don’t love her. she really helped me realize a lot of feelings i had that i’d been holding back.” he turns his head to look up at you and smiles and - oh. oh.

the look he’s giving you seems to be full of pure adoration, pure love. and you realize that he always looks at you like this.

tears start to form in your eyes again and justin sits up, this time pulling you into his lap. “you okay?” he asks, soothingly rubbing his hand over your back.

that’s why it seemed different - all her stuff was gone.

“i don’t know. what’s happening here?” you ask him, burying your face in his neck. “chloe helped me realize that i love you, y/n. i always knew it, deep down. but… i don’t know. i never really thought you felt the same.”

“damon said the same to me. that he could, um, tell we loved each other. are we just stupid?” you ask him, pulling away from his neck to look in his eyes.

“apparently two idiots in love.” he says. his hand finds the back of your hair and smooths over it softly before he pulls you into his neck again, crushing you in another hug.

“so where do we go from here?” you ask, enjoying his embrace. “i guess forward.” he jokes, poking at your sides. “together, of course, if you want that. as a couple.”

you can’t help the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you as he speaks. of course you want that, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “i love you, justin.” you finally say, and being able to tell him to his face is like a dream come true. “i love you back.” he says softly. you meet his gaze once again and he looks nervous, but you aren’t sure why.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him sweetly. you softly touch his cheek, smoothing over it with your thumb. he doesn’t say another word, but he leans in and kisses you.

you feel dizzy, your heart is pounding incredibly hard against your chest. justin is over the moon too. your lips begin moving in sync, neither of you able to catch a decent breath as you devour each other hungrily. justin's hands find your waist and he pulls you into him further, and your arms circle around his neck.

he pulls away for a second before jumping right back in, awkwardly bumping his nose against yours. you both laugh before kissing again. this is truly what euphoria feels like. you don’t know how long you both sit there taking each other apart, whether it’s minutes, hours or days.

what matters is it’s happening. finally.

your hands trail down his biceps as he continues kissing you, leaving a trail from the corner of your mouth down to the exposed column of your throat. your breath hitches when his lips meet one of your most sensitive spots, right where your neck meets your shoulder. “you okay?” he says, sounding concerned.

“i’m nervous.” you whisper. his gaze is soft as he looks at you, half smile spreading across his face. “it’s okay,” he whispers back, “we don’t have to take this any further until you’re ready.”

you hug him again and kiss his cheek softly. “i want to. i’m just nervous.”

“there’s no reason to be afraid.” he assures you. “do you wanna…” he starts, cocking his head to the side and motioning toward the direction of his bedroom. you nod a simple yes.

he stands with you and leads you down the hall to his room, although you know very well where it is. you’ve spent countless nights here cuddled up with him.

he twists the knob slowly and pushes the door open before guiding you inside, and meeting your lips with his again. the kiss is soft and gentle, and he walks you back toward his bed without breaking contact. once you’ve reached the side of the bed he pulls away and reaches behind himself with one arm, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head in one swift motion.

uou hop up onto his bed and get cozy against the pillows as he crawls onto the bed too, leaning over you. you rake your nails over the planes of his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead. his fingertips find the hem of your sweater and his gaze meets yours, waiting for your approval. you nod, and he slides both hands under it before lifting it over your head.

you’re wearing a simple white bra, but justin is looking at you like you’ve just descended down from heaven. you know he won’t ask you to take it off so you let what little bit of confidence you have flowing through your veins take over, and you quickly reach behind you to unclasp it.

justin sucks in a deep breath at the sight of you. you’re easily the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen in his life, you have been since he first laid eyes on you… but seeing you like this… he feels like he’s died and made it to the afterlife.

you don’t hide your gawking either, his toned body has always been something you’ve enjoyed staring at whether he noticed it or not. “you’re so beautiful,” justin tells you, leaning in to capture your lips again. as he crawls over your body you can feel his length through his sweatpants, it lays hard and heavy over your leg. you shudder at the thought of it.

justin’s hands slide up your torso and he caresses your breasts softly before tweaking both of your nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. you arch upward into him and your body is covered in gooseflesh as you await his touch again.

you’ve never felt such pleasure and satisfaction in your life, and he’s only barely started. you’re sure that you’ve soaked through your panties and sweatpants at this point. he continues to grab at your chest as he kisses you and you moan out his name softly, causing him to rut against your leg. he needs you just as much as you need him, you can tell.

“justin, i’m ready. i want you.” you tell him, breaking away from his kiss to look into his eyes. he smiles down at you and raises his eyebrow, making sure one more time. “i’m ready.” you promise him. his hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants before pulling them down your legs quickly, along with your panties.

he pulls his off next and your mouth falls open, gawking at the sight in front of you. sure… justin was 6’6, everything about him was big… but holy shit. he is huge.

he smiles at you nervously before reassuring you, “it’ll be okay, i won’t hurt you. i swear.” you almost think you could faint at how cute and sexy he his. you tell him you don’t need any prep but he won’t allow it, and he uses the pad of his thumb to circle your clit quickly as he enters two fingers into you to work you open.

after a few minutes you’re ready, you can’t take anymore and you’re practically begging him to fuck you. he blushes at the sound of your moans, but his chest fills with pride knowing he’s making you feel so good. he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat slowly before wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes. you let him situate your body how he needs to and he ends up with your ankles right at his shoulders as he prepares to push into you.

he’s lucky you’re flexible. his lips find yours again as he pushes in and your thankful because his kisses swallow your gasps. he moves slowly, inch by inch until he’s fully seated, and he waits a few minutes before moving so he doesn’t hurt you. when he finally pulls out and pushes back in, he moans loudly at how amazing you feel around him. you moan too, you’ve never felt so full in your life - and you’ve never felt so fulfilled either.

he moves to kiss you again and bumps his nose against yours again sweetly as his hands find yours and he tangles your fingers together. his movements are calculated, slow and methodical as he takes you apart, and unravels you in the very best way.

the room is filled with soft moans and labored breaths and the sounds of you kissing each other anywhere your lips can find. it doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak and tears prick at your eyes when you do. this is all you’ve ever wanted, and it’s beautiful, it’s magical. justin feels the same.

you warn him that you’re close and he tells you it’s okay, you can let go for him. “cum for me, it’s okay. i love you, y/n.” and that’s all it takes. his admission of love knocks you straight over the edge and into the thrashing waters, your orgasm taking over your whole body. he cums soon after, his body enjoying the feeling of you squeezing him as he rides out his high.

when he pulls out of you he stand quickly, running off to his bathroom to grab a warm wet towel to clean you both up. he didn’t bother asking if you were on the pill, he already knows every aspect of your life anyway.

justin cleans all your sensitive areas with the warm rag before wiping himself off and sliding back into bed with you, pulling the covers over your bodies.

“that was amazing.” you admit.

“yeah it was. you know how long we could’ve been doing that?” he laughs, and you giggle too. “i love you.” you tell him. “i love you too, so much. can i tell you something stupidly embarrassing, though?” he asks, and you roll over to face him. “oh god, what justin?”

“remember after we graduated, right after you turned eighteen and we had that pool party?”

“yeah, i remember.” you say. it was one of your fondest memories, actually. “that little yellow bikini you wore… i just thought i should admit to you now that i thought about you in that so much when i was jerking it that i thought my dick would fall off.”

both of you erupt in laughter, the admission funny and embarrassing, although endearing too. “that’s okay, remember right before we went to college and you were teaching me how to drive but you kept getting frustrated and yelling at me? i thought that was the hottest i’d ever seen you.” you say. he pulls you into his chest and kisses you softly.

“you’re getting me all worked up again, baby,” he laughs, kissing at your cheek toward your ear. “looks like we’re gonna have to go for round two.”

- - -

taglist: @slimshiesty @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989

photos and dividers used are not mine, all cred to owners.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

That’s Not What Friends Do (part 1)

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating

Request: Lando and the Reader have been best friends since they were babies. Lando has been in love with the Reader since he was a teenager, which is why he has never had a serious relationship. He has flings with girls, but nothing serious. On the other hand, the Reader has been in love with Lando for the past one to two years but thinks he doesn't like her that way, which is why she doesn't propose. Lando is very protective of the Reader, and the Reader is equally protective of Lando.... She knows he sleeps around and is protective of him in a way that she advises him to be smart about who he sleeps with and to stay out of the headlines for anything other than racing. The story starts after the Brazil race, where Lando had a tough time and went without sleep for 24-48 hours. When he returns from São Paulo, he finds the Reader already there, ready to comfort him after a bad race. - I changed it up a bit adding Charles into the story, but I hope you still like it!

"Oh, yes, yes, yes-ah.." The girl moans breathlessly into the pillow as Lando animalistically continues pounding her from behind.

"Just like that, Lando, give it to me" She continues talking even though Lando hates hearing it.

He hates the way his name sounds coming from her lips. He also hates that he's giving her what she wants. And most of all, he hates the fact that once again he's fucking someone else, imagining it washer.

Once he closes his eyes and thinks of your innocent face, it sends him over the edge, he twitches pulling out his cock and cumming inside the condom. "Fuck.." He moans throwing his head back as his thighs shake.

"You didn't have to pull out, you know? You have a condom on anyway" The girl smirks turning to look at him and trying to pull him down to her.

Lando doesn't say anything, he raises his eyebrow at her, barely keeping himself from rolling his eyes at her stupid comment.

He's been with so many girls he can't even count them, but even when he's drunk out of his mind, protection is a must have. He's not fucking around when it comes to that, not when he doesn't even know half of those girls' names. Nor is he interested in their names. All he cares about is emptying himself, giving himself a short-term pleasure and maybe just maybe running into someone who is at least slightly similar to her.

"You're not gonna stay?" The girl asks when he gets up from the bed and starts pulling his pants up.

"No, sorry, I gotta go" With curt, almost no explanations, he always leaves minutes after he finishes. Not that he's proud of it, but to be honest, he doesn't care either.

On the other hand, y/n doesn't spend her free nights the way Lando does. She doesn't fuck around with guys to keep her mind off Lando because she knows that's impossible in a way.

Although she spends some of her evenings wishing she had never seen that article a year and a half ago. It was a perfectly normal Monday night, the day after the race, when after a long flight she finally lay down on her couch, snuggled under the blanket and started scrolling through her phone. At one point, her best friend Ruby sent her an article titled "Friends"? and a picture of y/n and Lando that y/n hasn't stopped thinking about ever since.

The picture captured the moment when, after the race, Lando had both arms tightly wrapped around y/n and was kissing her temple with his eyes closed.

At first it seemed like an ordinary picture, I mean it wasn't the first time they shared a close moment like that before. After all they're friends? Friends do that, right? But the longer y/n stared at it, the more it awakened something in her that hadn't been there before.

When she found herself thinking about Lando and herself at night to fall asleep, she realized she was in trouble because she knew she was in love with her best friend. But since she also knew that the night she was staring at their picture, he was fucking some girl because he himself had told her he was meeting her that night, y/n knew she had to suppress her feelings.

That's where y/n had a little help named Charles.

"Where were you?"

Y/n startles almost screaming when she walks into her apartment and turns on the light revealing Lando on her couch.

"Oh my God, Lando!!" She said, barely able to catch her breath as she held her hand over her heart thinking it would jump out at any second. "You scared the shit out of me! How did you get in here?"

"You gave me the key?"

"I did, but to use it in case of emergency only!"

"You not answering my calls is an emergency" He says and you roll your eyes at him as you take off your shoes. "So?"

"So?" You mimic him.

"Where were you?"

"I was" You sigh. "On a date."

"You were on a date?" He asked a little panicked, following you like a puppy into the kitchen where you had gone.

"Mhm" You mumble, avoiding his gaze. "Ready to conquer Brazil?" You ask trying to change the subject.

"Who were you on a date with?" He asks not dropping it.

"Can we please not talk about it?" You sigh. You really had no intention of telling him anytime soon that you were seeing Charles. You knew Lando was never much of a fan of Charles. Although the reason for that was never clear to you, Lando had actually seen the way Charles secretly looked at you on a couple of occasions, and he confirmed his suspicions when Carlos told him that Charles had said he wanted to get to know you better.

"Why not? Since when am I not allowed to know who you're seeing?"

"Oh please, as if you tell me about every girl you see"

"Well..that's n-not the same"

"Oh really? And by the way, the other day Instagram was full of you and some blonde at a club again. I could see how drunk you were through the picture, you know?" You've scolded him for the umpteenth time already. "You really should be more careful who you associate yourself with, it's getting out of hand"

Lando remained silent because he knew you were right and he hated that he knew you were always right.

"Lando, you know I'm only saying that because I don't want them to talk badly about you and play with your head..."

No one really knew Lando the way you did. After all, you've known each other since childhood, inseparable since you were little. Your relationship has always been one of a kind, both of you very protective of each other. For Lando, it was like he wasn't afraid to hurt anyone but you. You were something that cannot be touched.

"I know, but I don't want to talk about that either." He says. "Are you coming with me to Brazil?"

"No, I'm sorry, Lan. I have a project to finish. I have so much to do and so little time."

"So you have time to date but you don't have time to be there when I need you?"

"H-how can you even say that?" You were offended because that was far from the truth. If anyone was always there for Lando, it was you. You just didn't know he was saying this only out of jealousy and because he had a hard time accepting that you had someone in your life besides him.

"Let me guess, he'll be your moral support while you work on your project?"

Oh, if he only knew that the "moral support" he was talking about would be much closer to him than to you that weekend, he would surely lose his mind.

[the-silence-in-between]

#it is interesting because this fundamentally comes down to a seperation of who they are#rio got to take Nicky and have him for the rest of eternity#Agatha had six years where she lived in fear of the hourglass running out#six years where she loved Nicky more and more#where her fear only grew#it was a torture worse than death#because some part#some tiny part of her#hoped that the time would be what any mother wants#her going first and him continuing to live his life#so anything less than that#and she knew#she knew from Rio saying 'I can only offer time'#that she would watch her son die#it's no different to a doctor telling her that her son has a rare disease that can not be cured and he will die with only a few years#and I think there's very little worse torture to a parent#than watching someone they carried#that they felt move and kick inside of them#that they fed and clothes and helped to walk and stand and speak#someone they loved more than anything else#die before them#it would have felt cruel to agatha via @motherconfessors

AGATHA ALL ALONG (2024) I 1.08

[snoopychris]

Lunch Date

warnings: sexual activities in a public place, orgasm denial, matt is a Freak with a capitol F.

in which… well you’ll see.

this was so…

dirty. wrong. dangerous. risky. fun.

five different words running through your mind. the only other thing you could think of was matt.

your science teacher had so much trust in the both of you. he was so hopeful that if he left the room to go to his meeting everything would be just fine. everything was not fine. it started out innocent. it was supposed to be innocent.

it was supposed to be a simple game of “doctor.” the lab coat was right there! how were you supposed to go on with your day without slipping it on over your outfit and doing a check up on matt?

if anyone walked in right now, they’d see the way that you were hoisted up on one of the black science lab counters, desperately gripping onto matt’s hair. the scrunchie you previously had on your wrist stuffed in your mouth at an attempts to keep you quiet. it was not working.

for someone who had no sexual experience, his tongue sure was working magic. his grip on your thighs was tight, not tight enough to leave marks, but tight enough to hold you close. one finger was consistently pushing in and out of you, an unusual sensation, but not an unwelcome one. if you were being quite honest, the added fear of being caught almost made you more aroused. matt, who you barely felt was breathing, could definitely feel it.

“matt… matt… matt…” you whimpered, your name slipping through your lips like it was your favorite song. he simply hums in response. he glances up at you for a moment but then goes back to his previous actions, this time taking your clit into his mouth. you gasp at the feeling, further tugging on his hair. “y-you gotta… you gotta breathe baby.” you manage to speak, trying your best to pull him away.

despite your best efforts, matt continues eating like a starved man and his grip on your thighs only tightens.

“can breathe just fine.” his words send a shiver to your core. you should tell him to stop. that lunch is almost over. but you know he’ll tell you how he’s not done eating. not yet anyway.

and then just when you’re on the brink of getting pushed over the edge. just when you’re about to experience the release you’ve been so desperately waiting for… the bell rings. your mouth drops open in shock, the scrunchie touching the floor. matt chuckles when you speak. “matty please don’t stop.” and then he does. he pulls away like nothing even happened. he wipes his lips smoothly and adjusts his hair and glasses, sitting down at his desk. youre in nothing but utter disbelief. you want to strut over and tell him to just do it. that you don’t care if lunch is over. you only care when Mr. Harrison walks back into the room after his meeting.

“you guys okay? didn’t miss anything too interesting did i?” he asks. and matt can do nothing but chuckle and smirk.

dividers by: @issysh3ll

tags!: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @m4ttg1rl @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody

a/n: you guys r SLUTS holyyyy shit. i love u all so dearly thank you all for 400. when i get home im gonna make my blog so cute trust.

[cherrixpie]

ACCISMUS

↬ maybe it was stupid trying to make theodore nott jealous by going to the yule ball with mattheo. maybe.

↬ sfw; wc: 9.4k; cw: violence, suggestive; theo nott x reader, friends to lovers

Mattheo Riddle was a genius. At least after today he was. Though it wasn't like he wasn't sharp, it was more so the fact that his desire to punch someone got in the way of his composure that had earned him the reputation of a beater rather than a schemer. Usually, it was Theodore with the observant eyes, perfect composure and the thoroughly thought-out plans. Mattheo would know, as Theo’s quick-witted responses and excuses were likely the only reason he hadn't been kicked out yet. But today, he would turn the tables.

As usual, younger students jumped out of his way as he stormed through the halls, climbing the stairs that led up to Gryffindor tower. A group of his peers that were climbing out of their common room entrance cast him incredulous looks as Mattheo surged forward to hold it open and slip in in their wake. The second he entered the lion’s den, conversations fell silent and a sea of Gryffindors wearing expressions of varying shock stared at him, standing panting before the exit.

With a sweeping glance, Mattheo spotted you, sitting by the fire with your friends and playing chess against Weasley. When he had entered, you had looked up from your game and were now looking at him with a raised eyebrow. He called your name and motioned outside, hoping you'd get the hint. You did and rose from your seat, quelling the nervous remarks of your Gryffindor friends.

In spite of your house, you had been included in Mattheo’s friend group ever since you’d had a charms project with Enzo in fifth year, who had introduced you to them. Against all odds, it had been an instant match, and you hung out with them whenever you could, even though your housemates had been opposing the idea from the start.

Now, you stifled their complaints and slipped past Mattheo out of the portrait hole, who followed in suit, not sorry to leave the room of judging stares behind. When he let the portrait fall back into place, he found you frowning at him. “Did you run all the way up here, Mattheo?”

“Maybe,” he grinned cheekily and you rolled your eyes, though actual annoyance was missing from both your eyes and voice. “Whatever for?”

His appearance was slightly unnerving. Though completely out of breath and heaving heavily, an eager, almost crazed smile tugged at his lips and his eyes glinted dangerously. “I have a proposition for you,” Mattheo grinned and you sighed. Oh Merlin. You were going to get roped into another one of his schemes, weren't you?

“So, here’s the deal,” Mattheo whispered conspicuously and dragged you into a darker part of the corridor. “I think we can both do each other a favor that benefits both of us.” He swatted his hand at your skeptical expression. “I mean, actually benefitting both of us.”

“Let's hear it,” you replied and crossed your arms. You had your doubts wether this wasn't just an elaborate plot advantageous to exactly one person: Mattheo. That wasn't prejudice talking, but experience. Just a few years ago, you would've thought it impossible that you would be friends with Mattheo Riddle one day, but he had turned out to be a genuinely funny and easy to talk to person. But that didn't mean you trusted him when he looked at you like that. Especially because Mattheo had a way of causing trouble that rivaled Harry Potter’s.

“Be my date for the Yule ball,” Mattheo blurted out and your brows only rose higher.

During the last few weeks, nobody had known another topic of interest than the Yule ball that would take place at the end of the week, the hustle and bustle around it had been exhausting. Not to mention the drama resulting from the dating rumors. Secretly, you’d been hoping that Theo would ask you out. You had been crushing on him since even before you were properly introduced, and befriending him had only intensified your feelings for him. But he hadn't made a move. And now this.

“How would that benefit either of us?” you said, stunned. “What use could either of us possibly have to gain from stepping on each other's toes for a whole evening?”

“Well,” Mattheo started, rubbing his neck. “Ya see, I have a lot of … options, but I don't want anyone to become attached and start bugging me or expecting a relationship.” He pulled a disgusted face and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. Out of his whole friend group, who were all very sexually active, Mattheo had earned himself the title of the biggest whore, but it looked like that came to beat him in the ass for the first time.

“Why don't you go alone, then?” you asked sensibly. “I'm sure no one is going to doubt your sexual prowess just because you go solo to the Yule ball.”

Mattheo shook his head. “Not an option. I did a bet with Draco and I have to eat a hundred living flubberworms if I don't get a date.” A shudder ran through his body at the thought. “So I’m thinking I'll just ask a friend. But Pansy and Blaise are going and Draco and Daphne have made arrangements and Merlin forgive me for not wanting to go to the ball with Enzo or Theo.”

You couldn't help the snort that escaped you and turned into a laugh at the incredulous look he gave you. “God, Mattheo, I can't believe it. This is absurd.”

Patiently, Mattheo waited for you to come down from your laughing fit. “So, what do you say, angel? I can dance, I promise.”

“What's wrong with going out with Enzo or Theo?” you asked elusively. Though you had become used to the looks and stares that you earned every time your friendship to the Slytherin gang came up, you weren't keen on the attention you’d get for going out with the Dark Lord’s son, even if it was merely platonic.

“Come on,” Mattheo pleaded with you and it was a genuinely curious sight to hear him beg. “Think about what's in it for you!”

“Having to listen to you for hours on end and a public witch hunt?”

“Aha!” he called and sprung up. “That's where part two of my plan comes in.” When you opened your mouth to protest, he waved his hands to stop you. “Listen to this. I get to escape the flubberworms and the nosy girls and you get to make Theo jealous.” Ignoring your spluttered response, he continued. “That boy’s head over heels for you, and with a little luck, seeing you with me will make him explode and confess, and the two of you can ride into the sunset together yada yada yada.”

Luckily, your hidden corner was so dark the blush on your cheeks would not be visible to the eye, but in the deafening silence that followed, you could hear your heart beating faster. Finally, you broke it with a wavering laugh. “You’re ridiculous, Theo doesn't like me like that. He isn't- he wouldn't-” But Mattheo grinned wider the more you stuttered on and you glared at him. “If he likes me, why hasn't he asked me out yet?”

It was impossible. Too good to be true. Theo was stunning, he was smart and just overall great. When you first joined their friend group, he had warmed up to you the fastest, after Enzo of course, even though it was quite unusual of him to be open to strangers. But you had bonded over your shared academic interests, and once you had started recommending each other books and studying together, you were a done deal. But it was a purely platonic deal, at least from his perspective. Right?

“He will,” Mattheo interrupted your train of thought. “And he’ll give you the same spiel as me. He just needs a wake up call to realize he wants to fuck you!” Ignoring your piqued look, he gesticulated wildly. “Come on, are you just going to let him use you when you love him and he can't wrap his head around his feelings for you?”

“Like you are using me?” you reminded him but it couldn't deter Mattheo. “That's different. You don't have feelings for me, do you?”

You avoided his eye as you pondered his proposal. What if it didn't work? Well, at least you'd know and finally be able to let go of your stupid crush. There was, objectively, nothing wrong with going to the ball with Mattheo, you could just say you were helping out a friend.

Mattheo had said Theo had feelings for you- but what did he know? Why would someone as amazing as Theo be interested in you? Then again, there had been those moments, between bookshelves in the library, or in his common room, or out at the lake, shuffling closer to each other because of the cold. Moments when he had said or done something more befitting of a boyfriend rather than a friend. Rare smiles, interlaced fingers, sweet compliments, weirdly romantic Italian nicknames you had researched in a muggle library over the holidays. Was there a chance that Mattheo, who had the emotional intelligence of a tree trunk, was right about Theo’s feelings, or was he simply misinterpreting them?

“He really likes you,” Mattheo added quietly, as if he had read your thoughts. “He just needs a little push. Come on, angel, what could go wrong?”

Angel. That nickname. The first time Mattheo had called you that had been in the Slytherin common room. You had been lounging on the couch next to Theo, a book abandoned in your lap, and tried to cheer them up after a depressing quidditch practice. When Mattheo had called you an angel, Theo’s hand on your thigh had tightened and you had looked up just in time to see him throw a warning glare at Mattheo. Maybe there was something to his words.

But then again, you reminded yourself, Mattheo had an agenda with this, and when had someone else ever been more important for him than he himself? It was ridiculous to think that Theo liked you, but you were so hopeful. What if Mattheo’s stupid plan did work in your favor?

“F-fine,” you spluttered out before you could start to doubt yourself again. “I'll go with you. But it won't work because Theo doesn't like me like that. And you’re just taking advantage of my stupid schoolgirl crush. So, if it doesn't work, which it won't, you’re going to let me test my practice potions on you for a weekend. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mattheo grinned, shaking your outstretched hand. “But I fear you’ll have to find another guinea pig for your potions, because it will work.”

When Mattheo strode into the Slytherin common room fifteen minutes later, he walked in on Pansy beating Blaise at chess maliciously. The light of the flickering green fire made the shadows of their chess figures flicker over the walls in giant dimensions. Both of them looked up when he fell down on the couch with a triumphant grin and exchanged a glance. Usually, Mattheo's good mood could mean one of two things: someone was bleeding or someone was going to bleed.

“So…,” Blaise began when Mattheo made no indication of speaking. “What's got you in such a good mood?” Immediately after, he began to curse bitterly when Pansy took advantage of the distraction to get rid of his Queen.

“I’m not going to eat any flubberworms any time soon,” Mattheo said, satisfied. “y/n just agreed to go to the ball with me.”

The reaction was immediate. Pansy choked on a chocolate frog she had been eating and Blaise was too shocked to pat her back when she began to cough. In the armchair a few feet away, Enzo shot up and stared at Mattheo as if he had just announced he’d take a Hungarian Horntail to the ball. Then, he folded up his edition of the daily prophet he had been reading and sighed. “Mate, Theo’s going to kill you. Like, properly murder you.”

“That's what I'm counting on!” Mattheo retorted enthusiastically, undeterred by the skeptical looks on his friend’s faces. “Hold up, it's actually genius. I go out with y/n, Theo’s jealousy overloads, he explodes, finally confesses to her and stops yapping to us about how great she is.” He had framed his words with dramatic gestures, but they didn't have the planned effect.

“Mattheo, you absolute idiot,” said Pansy, so outraged at this display of foolishness that she didn't catch Blaise sneaking some of his chess pieces back onto the board. “You think jealousy is going to work? Have you met Theo? He’ll just brood in the corner forever.”

“She's got a point,” said Enzo, rolling up his newspaper and staggering over to his friends. “Also, Theo’s not going to confess if he thinks she’s into you!”

“You all underestimate his selfishness,” said Mattheo, still wholly convinced of this plan. The others exchanged looks. “Of course he’ll be broody and torn, but in the end, he’ll choose himself, as much as he loves her. And then he'll finally man up and tell her how he feels, she’ll confess right back and they ride out into the sunset together. Come on, it's guaranteed to work!”

A long silence followed, in which Mattheo smiled to himself giddily and the others contemplated the plan. Then- “this is why no one trusts you with anything emotional, Mattheo,” said Blaise, shaking his head. “Why not just talk to Theo instead of creating this drama? Oh, right, because you’re Mattheo.”

“We’ve tried, haven't we?” Mattheo asked in an exasperated voice. “We’ve told both of them again and again to finally get off their ass and make a move and they never listen, because they are oblivious angsty idiots.” He did have a point. Since the start of term, it had been obvious to the whole friend group how head over heels in love the two of you were for each other. Their attempts to get you together had failed miserably, however. Though the two of you were probably the smartest in your friend group, in this matter, you were wholly oblivious.

Enzo was the first to speak. “I swear, if you ruin this for Theo and y/n, I’m taking you down myself.”

“You can try, Berkshire,” grinned Mattheo, reaching for his wand, but Enzo only rolled his eyes and retreated back to his armchair, unfolding the daily prophet and continuing to read where he had left off.

“Wait,” said Pansy, narrowing her eyes at him. “y/n actually said yes to this? She's either braver than I thought or just as mad as you are.” She groaned exasperatedly and rubbed her temple, giving Blaise the opportunity to wipe a few of her chess pieces off the board without her noticing. “I give it two days before Theo starts plotting your untimely demise. Maybe less.”

“Well, that's the spirit, isn't it?” Said Mattheo, brimming with excitement. “Haven't had an equal fight in months.”

“Oh, that's what this is about,” murmured Pansy under her breath and gave Blaise a sharp look at if to say 'I've done all I can, it's your turn now’. Blaise, who wasn't one to let down his girlfriend, frowned thoughtfully. “Mark my words, this isn’t going to end well- for you, at least. I’ll enjoy watching, though.”

“Watching what?”

All four of them shot around at the sound of a drawled out voice coming from the entrance. It was Draco, covered in mud and shouldering a broom, and in his wake Theo, looking no less in need of a bath. “Why weren't you at practice, mate?” Draco asked Mattheo, who surely didn't regret ditching practice now that he'd gotten a clean shirt and a date out of it.

“I had to make a trip to Gryffindor tower,” he answered honestly, eyes roaming over their dirty forms. “Equally as unpleasant, I figure. Though it did ultimately work in my favor. Because I have a date for the ball now.” His observant eyes rested on Theo, who’s tired ones briefly flickered over and narrowed at him in suspicion.

“You’re taking a lion to the ball?” asked Draco skeptically, he seemed unable to imagine Mattheo having the audacity to ask you out, since, as everyone knew, you were Theo’s girl. “You must be really desperate. Who's the unlucky girl?”

“y/n,” grinned Mattheo simply, but the words had their intended effect nonetheless. A loud clatter silenced the common room when Draco’s broom landed on the floor, having slipped right out of his hands. His face was almost as white as his platinum hair as he gaped at Mattheo and then glanced back at Theo who had frozen mid-motion. Now, he straightened up once more to look at Mattheo. Theo, other than Mattheo, understood it to hide his reactions behind a mask of indifference, but his blue eyes were as hard and cold as ice.

“She said yes?”

“Yeah,” grinned Mattheo, failing to read the room, or he simply said the following out of madness. “She seemed pretty stoked!”

“Did she?” asked Theo tight-lipped and Mattheo only grinned in response. Teasing Theo, prodding him, holding you over his head, waiting for him to snap, for his oh-so-great composure to crack was the definition of fun. Mattheo could almost see it flicker in his eyes, the desire to punch him, to punish him, for taking what was his. And then, Theo’s annoying righteousness when it came to you, how he would remind himself that you didn't belong to him, that you could do whatever you pleased.

Mattheo could imagine both sides battling viciously in Theo’s head as he returned his gaze, it was delicious to have him squirm. He only had to watch his step, not play with the fire too much. Theodore Nott was one of the few people he knew that could actually beat his ass if they got poked too much. But he didn't take his eyes off Theo's who seemed just as determined to hold his. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see his hands tighten around his broom before they relaxed, he spread his fingers like spiders and disciplined his own body into submission.

“So,” said Theo cooly, a certain bitterness tinging his tone that he kept to a minimum. Of course Theo knew Mattheo was trying to provoke him, and he was determined not to give him the satisfaction, or that was what Mattheo himself concluded. “When exactly did you decide you were into her? Before or after you knew I-” Theo paused and clenched his jaw “Never mind.”

“Does that bother you?” Mattheo asked in faux consideration and he could feel his friends holding their breath. Theo's infamous death stare fell upon him and the grin fell off his face, though the daring look in his eyes did not subside.

When Theo answered, his voice was smooth and controlled. “Doesn’t bother me. I just… didn’t think she’d be your type.”

“Why not?” asked Mattheo, his body ready for attack, every nerve tense in excited anticipation of a good fight. “She’s sweet, pretty, smart-”

“She's too good for you,” Theo cut him off with narrowed eyes, but Mattheo only shrugged. “It's the damn Yule ball, mate, I just need a date so I don't have to eat three courses worth of flubberworms, and I could imagine way worse than spending the evening with her. I mean,” a light smirk curled his lips, “she's not your girlfriend, is she?”

Oh, he could just feel Theo’s fury in his fingertips, the way he looked at him as if he wanted to take his head off. How he had to regret not asking you sooner, how confused over his anger he had to feel. Mattheo reveled in the power he had over him. But Theo smoothed out his features and stared at him through a mask of indifference. “Right.” Looking somehow a lot moodier than when he had stepped in, already brooding, he shouldered his broom and left for the boy’s showers.

His absence left behind a tense silence. Blaise was the first to speak. “Mattheo, mate… you're dead.” But Mattheo only laughed, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, unbothered by his pessimistic outlook and still wholly convinced of his plan.

You wondered if Theo had caught wind of the Yule ball arrangement when you caught sight of him the next day in the Great Hall, looking more somber than ever. Even from the Gryffindor table, you could see him staring gloomily down on his porridge as if it had wronged him somehow. You were equally as unable to eat. Gnawing on your lip, you weighed the explanations in your head. Could he be jealous? No, that was too good to be true. It couldn't be.

Maybe he too had made a bet with Draco and had to eat flubberworms if he didn't find a date? Maybe there was some other explanation as to why Theo seemed to be answering all questions directed at him with either a frown or a shrug. Hunched over, his dark locks fell into his eyes as he glowered at his meal, fingers flexing around his fork. It was true, Theo was a grim person, and on bad days, he tended to glower at everyone who crossed his path- could this be just another one of his mood-swings?

“Everything alright?”

Taken aback, you looked at Hermoine who surveyed you with a cautious look in her brown eyes. “You haven't eaten.”

“I'm just not hungry,” you smiled truthfully and discarded the fork. No use pretending, you weren't getting any breakfast down today. Not when Theo looked so distractingly sinister and gorgeous.

But Hermoine didn't look convinced. “What did Riddle want yesterday? When he wanted to talk to you, what did he say?”

Your attention had been captured by Theo giving Mattheo his nastiest death glare, so you only registered the words slowly. “Huh? Oh, he only asked me to be his date for the Yule ball.” you replied, making Hermoine choke on her cereal. “He did what?”

Biting into the sour apple, you decided to come clean. “I said yes.” To escape her unbelieving and quite frankly accusing eyes, you rose from your seat. “See you in Arithmancy, Hermoine,” you said hastily and walked along the Gryffindor table in long strides. When you reached the doorway, however, you turned left and walked along the Slytherin table towards your friends.

Pansy noticed you approaching and waved, making the others look up as well. Mattheo grinned at you and blew you a kiss you rolled your eyes at. When Theo’s eyes fell upon you, however, they softened visibly. He scooted to the side, making space for you to sit down next to him. You smiled at him, albeit intimidated slightly by his bad mood, and moved closer to him. To your immense relief, he returned your smile and grabbed an empty glass to fill it with pumpkin juice and place it before you.

“Decided on a dress yet?” Pansy asked from the other side of the table and you looked at her, therefore missing the slight narrowing of Theo’s eyes at the mention of the ball. You did, however, notice his hand, reaching for yours over the table and interlocking your fingers with his. The Nott family ring on his ring finger burned cold against your skin, the calloused tips of his fingers from all the smoking burns felt even more uneven against your soft skin. You didn't know why you noticed his hands so clearly at this moment. Maybe, you realized, because you had never actually held his hand.

“Uh- yes,” you said, a little flustered, and returned your attention to Pansy who gave you a knowing look. “And you?”

The two of you slipped into a conversation about the ball and your dresses that the other boys participated scarcely in. Blaise asked questions about Pansy’s dress that he had never actually seen before. From time to time, Draco threw in a comment about his dancing skills and Enzo laughed along to Pansy’s teasing. Mattheo made flirty comments towards you when you talked about your dress, glancing at Theo to gauge his reaction.

Only Theo didn't participate in the conversation, though his fingers stayed interlocked with yours. Every now and again, they seemed to tighten, especially when Mattheo directed one of his flirty comments at you. But maybe that was just wishful thinking on your part. When everyone rose to go to class, he tugged you down again by your interwoven hands. His expression was serious. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Uh, sure,” you smiled, waving the others goodbye. Mattheo winked at you and you rolled your eyes at him. You sat back down, but Theo didn't speak immediately. His eyes studied your face, roamed over your features, as if he was seeing you for the first time- really seeing you. Merlin, he was an idiot. He should have asked you before Mattheo would be able to. The thought that you had looked up at Mattheo this sweetly just a day prior, before he had gotten ahead of him and asked you, was gnawing at him.

“You're going to the ball with Mattheo?” he forced the words past his lips, but managed to make them sound casual, as if he was asking about the weather.

“Yes?” you said and immediately scolded yourself for making it sound like a question. Your tone made him lift his brow as his eyes searched yours for any hesitance. “You don't have to go out with him, if you don't want to,” he said.

You could hear your heart beat in your ears. Was he trying to tell you that you had other options? Like him? For one second, you could see yourself, in the dress you had already picked out, side by side with Theo. He had to be a wonderful dancer. But then, you remembered what Mattheo had said. It was a platonic offer, even if he had feelings for you. Which you doubted. The thought of going with him when it was a merely platonic deal for him but meant so much to you, it was almost unbearable.

“I want to,” you replied and your voice sounded steadier than you’d dared to hope. For a second, you thought you saw his expression drop, but you could never trust your eyes with him, his fleeting expressions and flashes of emotions were hard to keep up with, even for you, who could see through him better than most people, by his own admission.

Theo merely nodded and stood up. Before you could, he shouldered your book back as well. Like the gentleman he was, he fended off your protests and held out his arm for you to take, as if you were at a special occasion, when, in truth, it was just another Tuesday in the Great Hall. Both glad and disappointed that nothing had changed, you slipped your arm into his and you left the Hall on your way to the Arithmancy classroom.

The soft hum of chatter filled the entrance hall as students in glittering gowns and sharply tailored dress robes gathered beneath the glowing light of the enchanted candles. The winged doors to the Great Hall were still shut as students who had partners in another house pushed through the crowd in search of them. You, however, didn't have much of a hard time finding your group of Slytherin friends, as any sane student steered clear of them. Before they could make you out in the wave of Gryffindor students that swept over the hall just now, you spotted them in a more secluded corner.

Of course, you noticed Theo first. He looked impossibly handsome in his dress robes. They were black, but with subtle hints of dark green. A dark green that matched the color of your dress. As if you were just meant for each other. Well, in your dreams. You noticed he didn't have a girl on his arm, neither did Enzo. Pansy and Daphne both looked gorgeous in their dresses, and especially Blaise looked hopelessly smitten. Then, there was Mattheo. You were somewhat surprised to see that he was actually wearing something formal. It was already a rarity for him not to be bloody, but to wear something festive was not a sight you ever expected to be subjected to.

Mattheo was the first to spot your approaching frame, a slow grin spreading across his face as he leaned casually against the wall, hands stuffed in his pockets. His gaze seeped over you with an aporoving nod. “Well, aren't you dressed up nicely,” he drawled when you were in earshot, causing the others to take notice of your presence as well. Pansy, ever supportive, let out a low whistle, Blaise wiggled his eyebrows and Enzo gave you a thumbs up. But it was Theo’s reaction that you felt most acutely- a subtle shift in his posture, his jaw tightening ever so slightly as he looked you over. His gaze felt hot on your body and you felt your breath hitch when his stormy eyes locked with yours, a flicker of something unspoken flashing across his face before he quickly glanced away.

Fuck. You were gorgeous. Of course, he'd always known you were pretty, but seeing you in that dress did something to him. That green was the color of his house, of his family, the color of him. You looked like his, even though Mattheo put an arm around your waist and pulled you towards him. He could have killed him, he might have, if you hadn't let out a bright laugh at something he had said that stilled every and all remains of fury in him. Your laugh was disarming, especially when you looked over at him and gifted him one of your sweet smiles. “Hey, Theo.”

He could only nod, unable to take his eyes off you, even when the doors to the great hall opened and the group slowly made their way towards them. His gaze zeroed in on Mattheo's hand on your lower back. That was not Mattheo's spot, that was where his hand lay when he was walking you to class or Hogsmeade. Unable to look anywhere else, he followed the others mechanically, unaware of the glimpses you stole at him to gauge his reaction. But all you could see was indifference.

When you stepped through the doors you were momentarily distracted from Theo. The Great Hall was alight with blue light, decked in ice crystals. The usual four house tables had made way for a multitude of smaller, round tables surrounding the dance floor that took up the better part of the hall. Mattheo led the way to one table in close proximity to the dance floor, which surprised Theo. Usually, Mattheo preferred corners over the center.

Mattheo pulled out your chair for you before Theo had the chance to and - wether by chance or because he was a snarky asshole - sat down in between Theo and you. With a sly grin at Theo, he interlocked your fingers over the table and moved closer to you. In that moment, Theo swore to himself that he would dance with you today. He'd stay up until three in the morning if necessary, but he would hold you in his arms tonight, twirl you around in that damn dress and see the light of the crystals reflected in your eyes. And if he had to hex Mattheo, he would gladly do so.

Your laughter rang in his ears and he cursed himself. Hex Mattheo, and ruin your night? What right did he even have to feel like this? As much as he hated to admit it, Mattheo was right. You weren't his girlfriend, he had no claim over you. His possessiveness was sick, twisted and entirely selfish. You were his friend and he should only want the best for you. What he had masked as ‘the best for you’ was no more than what fulfilled his desires. He was being a horrible friend to you.

“Wanna dance, angel?” Theo couldn't even find it in himself to feel anything but bitterness when Mattheo rose and offered you his outstretched hand. Over his death stare directed at the table, he missed the way you glanced over at him before taking it and allowing Mattheo to eagerly drag you to the dance floor. The music was fairly quick and as Mattheo twirled you around, you let him pull you into him and mirrored his steps. Mattheo was a fairly skilled dancer, but you struggled to keep up with his extravagant style and quick steps.

Mattheo twirled you around so fast you could barely see beyond the flashes of blue that remained of the room. And even when a more slow piece came on, he found a way to keep you on your toes. “He's looking over,” you whispered after daring a glance over your shoulder to see that Theo's brooding gaze was fixed on the two of you.

“You even have eyes in your head?” grinned Mattheo, pulling you closer by your waist. “He's been looking at you the whole evening.” A smirk curled his lip. “Told ya”

You were a little too out of breath to answer, but when Mattheo leaned close to whisper a question in your ear, you nodded, albeit a little hesitant. Your rowdy dancing partner pulled you even closer until there was barely any space between you two. When he said something, anything, you giggled and he laughed along, even though neither of you remembered what he had said. In spite of the dancing, Mattheo managed to dip his head down and trail pecks up your neck to the shell of your ear. The shudder that went through your body was not as much a result of his lips, but a reaction to the way Theo’s fists clenched as you locked eyes.

Worry and stupid excitement coiled in your stomach. The way he was glaring at you through his dark locks, his fists clenching and unclenching, his cerulean eyes so dark, his posture so tense as if he was a predator ready to devour his prey, was so damn attractive that you couldn't help but stare longer than you intended to, before you managed to avert your eyes and focus them back on Mattheo. But you couldn't help but worry what his tense appearance might mean. Had he seen through Mattheo's plan to make him jealous and considered this a betrayal of your friendship?

Meanwhile, Theo had to summon up his last reserves of restraint when his best mate’s hand crept down your back, further than he was supposed to, teetering the edge of inappropriateness. But you looked so happy, laughing along to Mattheo's jokes. Though somehow, he had missed the repeated glances you cast at him all throughout the dance.

When the next number came on, you parted from Mattheo who lifted his brows. “That's enough. If he hasn't done anything by now, I must be right. You were wrong about these supposed feelings, Mattheo.” You sighed and shook your head about your own stupidity. Of course Theo hadn't reacted, you’d been right all along. Still, disappointment stung in your heart. Maybe you had held on to hope. Oh, who were you kidding, a part of you had believed Mattheo, and now you felt way worse than you had before. Before Mattheo could talk, you parted from him and left the dance floor.

Theo slowly, dangerously, lifted his head from his knuckles as his gaze followed your figure, ducking in between dancing couples to make your way back over. Your expression showed disappointment, sadness… you’d always been easy to read for him. When he asked you about it, you said you showed your emotions openly on purpose. Why, he had asked, and you'd laughed and said that you wanted to make people feel at ease and safe when talking to you, so you showed yourself to them to invite them in, make them feel welcome.

Even though he didn't fully understand, he admired you for it, recognized it as a strength when Mattheo had outright laughed at your explanation, earning him a sinister glare. But right now, Theo desperately wished he wouldn't be faced with your sorrow, it would make it easier to keep himself from walking over to Mattheo, drag him out into the hall and finally confront him. A horrible suspicion dawned on him as he locked eyes with Mattheo, who had been watching your retreating figure as well. When they locked eyes, he grinned, winked and disappeared into the crowd of dancing bodies. Had he been using you to make Theo jealous, to tease him for his personal satisfaction?

His sinister thoughts were quelled when you reached the table and sat down next to him, bending over with a groan and slipping out of your heels. But before you could even grab a slice of cake to drown your sorrows in sweets, someone got a hold of your hand. You followed the arm and saw Theo, looking at you with a serious expression. His grip was soft, as if you were fragile, made out of glass, made to look pretty and shatter. But his eyes were hard as stone. “What did he say to you?”

“Huh?” you asked, genuinely perplexed at the growl in his voice. “Who- what- You mean Mattheo?” A curt nod. You understood. Theo must've misinterpreted your bad mood upon leaving the dance floor for hurt at something Mattheo had said. “Nothing,” you said quickly. “Everything's alright.” But your reassurances couldn't wipe the skepticism from his eyes. “Look, it's just my feet that started to hurt, alright? It's not Mattheo's fault.”

Though he still looked doubtful, Theo seemed to accept your explanation and reached over to cut you a large piece of cake. In spite of your expensive dress, you brought your knees to your chest as you started eating, but your sudden appetite quickly subsided. With a long sigh, you leaned your head on Theo’s shoulder and reveled in his warmth. “‘M sorry,” you murmured under your breath, unsure if he would even catch it.

He did, and frowned, you could hear it in his voice though you didn't see his face. “What for, amorina?” Amorina. It meant ‘little love’, or that was what the muggle dictionary books said. Those damn Italian nicknames. His accent, barely noticeable in everyday conversation, was thicker when he spoke hushed and you allowed yourself to revel in how it made you feel, just for a moment. Then, you shrugged, hoping it would be enough of an explanation for now. Would you ever be able to tell him why you had gone to the ball with Mattheo or would you sooner die of embarrassment?

This wasn't so bad. Actually, it was quite nice. You rocked slightly in the rhythm of the music and leaned into Theo who, in turn, leaned onto you carefully. Somehow, your hands had found each other. Draco was dancing with Daphne, Blaise and Pansy were making out in a distant corner of the room and Enzo was at the buffet to get seconds. It was quite peaceful, almost like you two were the only thing that mattered and all around you was just noise and light and colors. They would fade, he wouldn't, and you wouldn't either.

Your peace was only disturbed when Mattheo arrived, who, to your not-really surprise, had a giggling girl holding onto his arm. Unbeknownst to you, Mattheo had not given up just yet. If Theo's selfishness wasn't stronger than his desire to see you happy, maybe his knight-in-shining-armor urges would be. He grabbed your plate from in front of you, ignoring Theo's frowns, dug the fork into it and held it out to the giggling girl that was clutching his dress robes.

“You enjoying yourself, darling?” he asked and she nodded, giving him a sultry look. He cast you a deliberately indifferent look. “You don't mind, angel, do you?” Though he didn't dare look at Theo and give himself away, he could practically feel him fuming.

“Knock yourselves out,” you replied with a wave of your hand but Theo was not so quick to dismiss the scene. He rose from his seat, feeling as if all his frustration and resentment of the last week had reached its peak and was ready to boil over. In moments like these, when he allowed his anger to escape, to be felt just for a moment before funneling it towards the intended target with deliberate precision, he could feel himself getting calmer. The rushing in his ears subsided, his heartbeat slowed to a normal pace as he looked down on his best mate.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“Taking a gorgeous girl to dance with me,” Mattheo answered casually, grinning at the girl on his arm. How could he act as if you weren't even there? How dare he run to another when he had taken you to be his date, was he never satisfied?

“You already have a date, scemo,” he growled. By now, a few pairs of eyes had gotten wind of the brewing storm. A few of them stepped closer to observe the scene, others pushed through the crowd to put some space between them and the two boys who now glared at each other. Mattheo was tense, brimming with excitement and pushed away the girl. Theo, on the other hand, seemed almost unnaturally calm, his hand slowly slipping into his robes in search of his wand.

“Theo,” you said quietly, in an ineffectual attempt to avoid more attention. “I really don't mind.” He cast you a quick glance and you knew it hadn't been enough. His eyes were soft all of the sudden, but you knew he wouldn't back down. And you weren't going to lie, it did warm your chest that he was so willing to stand up for you. Though you didn't want the situation to escalate into an actual fight because of your’s and Mattheo’s stupidity.

Mattheo would apologize to you for the following later, but now he had to wound Theo up so much that he’d attack him with bare hands, Mattheo's preferred method of fighting, because he knew he couldn't beat the academic weapon Theo in a wizarding duel. “Yeah, she was kind of a bore so I-” But he didn't get to finish that sentence, because Theo had abandoned the search for his wand, surged forward and tackled Mattheo so they fell to the ground in a heap of robes and fists.

You had rarely seen Theo fight. Well, that was not quite true. You'd seen him hex people, curse fellow students, but never like this. The punches he delivered to Mattheo’s face were less deliberate and full of rage. It was a show of force unlike any you'd ever seen from him. When tackling Matteo, he had discarded his robes and now his white shirt got the first red spots. Mattheo hit and kicked back with the same fervor you already knew from him, and you could see it in his eyes, this was all just a game for him.

Students screamed when a resounding crack echoed through the hall, amplified by the sudden silence that had come over the crowd as everyone formed a circle around the fighting boys. Theo had broken Mattheo's nose, you were sure of it, and for a moment, you thought Mattheo was down, but of course not. Without a sound of pain, he shot up and tackled Theo, who had hesitated for a split second too long, to the ground. Wherever they threatened to crash into the wall of onlookers, the students moved back like a coordinated swarm of fish.

Slowly, Theo seemed to get the upper hand on Mattheo who seemed slightly knocked out from the hit in the face that had broken his nose. But nonetheless, while Theo’s expression was bitter and hard as he brought his fist down on Mattheo's face again and again, the latter laughed, almost crazily, coughing up blood. His laughter was the loudest sound, and for a good minute, you doubted his sanity. In contrast, Theo was eerily silent as he beat Mattheo with the utmost concentration, jaw clenched and eyes full of disdain.

Finally, the headmaster managed to push through the crowd. Some of them were chanting, others were covering their faces with their hands. Dumbledore assessed the situation in one glance, and you thought he even winked at you, before he pulled out his wand. As if pulled apart by invisible hands, Mattheo and Theo were ripped apart and both stumbled a few feet back, making the crowd on either side burst to scramble away.

They were both heaving. Mattheo looked worse than Theo, his nose was visibly broken and his face was littered with cuts and bruises and two black eyes. Theo’s lip and nose were bleeding, dripping crimson upon his stained shirt, as were his fists, and a darkening bruise bloomed above his right jawline. Both of them looked ready to jump back into it, if it hadn't been for a very disgruntled Snape, who stepped in between and sneered at Theo especially. “What a display! You have dishonored your house with your public brawling-”

“Now, now, Severus,” said Dumbledore calmly and smiled in understanding. “Tempers run high at events like these. I can remember, in my youth, there was no ball without a good duel. Of course, some choose the more direct approach.” His eyes twinkled.

Unfortunately, Mattheo chose the exact moment to send you a wink and Theo, who looked just about a hundred percent done with his bullshit, took a step towards him, only to be roughly pushed back by Snape. It couldn't stop the words leaving his mouth through gritted teeth, though. “Sei praticamente mio fratello,” growled Theo with a wild look in his blue eyes. “come hai potuto farmi questo, pezzo di merda?"

Mattheo was still gasping for breath and wincing at every inhale, but he grinned nonetheless. “non parlo italiano, you dumbass,” he sneered with what you could only assume was a heavy British accent, and Theo, still fuming, spit on the ground over Snapes shoulder who was still holding him back.

“Now, now,” said Dumbledore with a level of indulgence you could only admire him for. “I believe, Mr Riddle, you should see Miss Pomphrey. As for you, Mr Nott, how about a walk to, ah- cool off?”

Theo pushed Snape off of him who glared at him, only to be glared at right back. “Twenty points off Slytherin, Nott,” he said with clear disdain in his voice. Before Theo could protest or do something rash (you had never seen him like this, he looked like he was capable of anything), you grabbed his hand and started pulling. To your immense surprise and relief, Theo gave in immediately, following you as you pushed through the students, out of the door, through the entrance hall, and finally, out into the dark grounds where the chilly night air finally cleared your head a little.

You sat down on the stone steps and Theo followed suit, still breathing heavily and flexing his hands. For a few minutes, you didn't dare speak. When you finally managed to work up the words and the courage, it was Theo who spoke first. His voice had lost all temper, all edge, it was full of regret. “I'm sorry, fiorellino.” Taken aback, he turned your head to look at him. His gaze was fixed on his hands, covered in both Mattheo's and his blood, seeping out of his knuckles.

“What for?” you asked and he finally looked at you, albeit as if you were asking a very ridiculous question. “Cazzo, for ruining your night. You deserve better, I was a-” But you didn't let him finish, you reached over to wrap your arms around him and pull him in, needing his warmth more than ever. Immediately, his arms engulfed your form and he pulled you into him so that you were sitting halfway in his lap, but neither of you cared. Maybe even without realizing, he rocked you back and forth lightly and you breathed out, breathed in, let the smell of him consume you whole. Cigarettes had never smelled better.

When Theo reluctantly released you, his gaze trailed over the goosebumps on your arms. Your dress, as wonderful as it was, did not have sleeves. “Let's go,” he said softly. He didn't say where, but you didn't care, you trusted him. So you let him pull you up and back inside, down the staircase to the dungeons. None of you said a word. When you stepped inside, the Slytherin common room was deserted, as everyone was still upstairs, enjoying themselves.

Theo urged you towards the couch, but you had come to a halt. You knew you needed to come clean. Now. Before he had the chance to actually take Mattheo's head off. Mistaking your hesitation for doubt rather than guilt, Theo let his arms engulf you once more. It may have been a trick of your imagination, but you thought you heard him breathe in the scent of your hair. “Maleditelo, that bastard. Merlin, I could have broken his fucking jar if they'd given me one more minute. Curse him for doing that to you. I’d never have-” He fell silent.

You sighed against his chest, silently wishing you'd never taken part in Mattheo's crazy plan. “I didn't mind that,” you murmured into his blood-stained shirt, reveling in the feeling of his thumbs brushing over your shoulder as he held you. But it stopped, and Theo pulled away, face contorted into a bitter smile as he began to pace in front of you. “No, of course you didn't. Sei troppo dannatamente bonario, troppo gentile, troppo perfetto.”

“Theo!” you said loudly and that made him look down on you. Your voice was shaking slightly. “I’m sorry.” He frowned, and then it all spilled out of you. How Mattheo had proposed the idea of making him jealous because he was convinced he liked you, how you had said yes because you were a lovesick idiot, how he had been purposefully riling him up and you had went along with it all. “I'm sorry,” you said shakily, holding back tears. “I was so stupid, this is all my fault, I'm so, so sorry Theo.”

During the whole tale, Theo hadn't moved an inch. Now, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from out of his pocket, ignited one with a bit of wandless magic and took a long drag. Usually, Theo didn't smoke when you were around, because he knew you didn't like it. But desperate times seemed to call for desperate measures. Staring down at the glowing cigarette between his fingers, Theo seemed to gauge the words, weigh them on his tongue, before he spoke. “You like me?”

“I love you,” you confessed, hiding your face in your hands. “God, Theo, I'm so sorry.”

“Why didn't you just talk to me?” You peeked at him through your fingers, but he seemed calm. Sure, he was frowning, but the cigarette seemed to have helped. His gaze was fixed on you as he studied your expression, what little he could catch a glimpse of, anyway.

You let out a helpless sigh, feeling ridiculous. “Because… you know, you’re you.”

At that, his frown deepened and he took another drag of his cigarette, as if to calm himself. Then, he flicked it into an ashtray and approached you slowly. His gentle hands came up to pry your hands from your face. They fell helplessly at your sides. “What's that supposed to mean?” he asked with furrowed brows. “Are you intimidated by me, amorina?”

“N- no!” you stuttered desperately, “it's just…” You let out a long sigh, not daring to look at him. “I was scared it might ruin our friendship, it just… seemed like the best way.” As you spoke them, you realized the stupidity of your words, and Theo, too, raised his brow at you. “You thought going to the ball with Mattheo to make me jealous, letting him kiss you on the dance floor and rile me up all evening was the best way, did you?”

“Yes?” you squeaked, never having felt this abashed in your life.

Theo rolled his eyes, but he leaned down and suddenly he was so close. So close you could feel, hear and smell his breath, still reeking of cigarettes. So close you suddenly realized just how blue his eyes were, a deep cerulean blue. So close your breath hitched. Theo's voice was but a whisper, but he seemed distracted, his eyes darting between your eyes and - could it be? - down to your lips. “Stupid plan.”

“I know,” you breathed, looking at him with wide, teary eyes that Theo wanted to burn into his memory forever. He couldn't find it in him to be mad at you. Not when you looked at him like this, not when he could smell you.

“It worked,” was all he said, and you could barely comprehend the words before his lips crashed onto yours.

You'd imagined many times how it might feel to kiss Theo, too feel those soft lips on yours. Would it be messy? Gentle? Rough? It turned out to be none of those, or perhaps all of those. Kissing Theo was dizzyingly overwhelming. His lips moved in yours in a controlled passion, slow and meticulous, but at the same time, hungry. So, so hungry when he let out a groan and parted your lips with his to slip his tongue into your mouth. To explore, to discover, to make you whimper against him as he pulled you in tighter by the waist.

You suddenly felt impossibly hot and bothered, especially when Theo's lips departed from your mouth to nip at your jaw and travel down the crook of your neck, biting, sucking, caressing, worshipping. When you felt something solid poke against your thigh, you gasped, nervousness coiling in your stomach. “M-maybe,” you stuttered, “now that all is cleared up, we should maybe go look after Mattheo in the-”

You gasped loudly when Theo bit down hard on your neck, silencing you effectively with the growl that escaped his throat. “Don't say his fucking name, amorina.” You nodded frantically, biting back moans, and Theo started lapping at the bite, rubbing his tongue over it in soothing circles as his hands travelled down, further down before they reached the slit in your dress and he grabbed a handful of your thigh. “You can scream mine instead.”

Suddenly, the door burst open and you jumped, Theo took a step back from you to glare at your intruders. It was Pansy, and, following right behind, Blaise. She had her brows lifted and grinned. “Holy hell, get a r-”

“Get out, Pansy,” Theo cut her off, fingers digging into your thigh. Though she held Blaise back from standing up for her, she rolled her eyes at his tone and turned to leave. “Lock the door,” Theo called after them and you somehow found yourself giggling. “Theo, you can't just shut your whole house out of the common room.” You felt light headed, slightly dizzy, but you smiled and he managed to return it. “'Course I can.”

He let go of your thigh and walked a few steps, over to what had to be an enchanted record player. With a tip of his wand, it started playing a slow song. Theo looked back at you, extending his arm, offering you his right hand. A small smile played around his lips as he crooked his head to the side. “Dance with me, amorina.” And of course, you took it, let him pull you towards him and closed your eyes as he began to move you to the slow rhythm. Somehow, your head landed on his shoulder, his came to encircle your waist as you moved, barely taking a step.

He would make the stolen night up to you. Every single second.

[saymio]

Guns Aren't Toys

Pairing: Kang No-eul (guard 011) x Fem!reader

Summary: noeul loves you, she truly does. she wants to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and all hers. so when you try to gain some independence from her....she decides its time to scare you into being hers forever.

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, gun play, carving/knife play, blood kink, dubcon, light bdsm (tying you to a bed), noeul is giving heavy yandere vibes, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. english isn't my first language and I haven't written in so long, I'm sorry if its bad (MDNI)

6k Words

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you befriended noeul not long after the games ended, at first you had no idea what she did..or who she even was. you didn't know where she came from, where she worked, you didn't even know her exact age. but nonetheless something about her compelled you to her. maybe it was the way she carried herself..she stayed lowkey but wasnt a pushover. or how cool and attractive she was...it always seemed like she knew what she was doing. whether it was something small like cooking an egg or folding clothes...she seemed so knowledgeable and aware of everything around her. to you noeul was your dream girl, she was so mysterious but also so interesting...so quiet but so compelling...

she was a regular at the coffee shop you used to work at. always ordering the same thing, a black coffee with no sugar. it fit her..sleek and to the point. she quickly became part of your daily routine... check out the hot older woman that would pass by everyday... but suddenly in the middle of the summer she stopped appearing at the coffee shop. at the time, you knew nothing about the woman, less than when you finally became her friend. only her face, coffee order and where she always sat. at the left corner of the cafe, she always seemed to ponder about something. she didn't look distressed when she would but.. she didn't look calm either. you wondered if she was on a vacation.. you hoped she was. you were getting nervous about the idea that she moved out of the city, she wouldn't leave just like that right? she'd be back, right?

days and days have passed and still no sign of noeul. you started to give up on the idea that she would be back, its been a week since she left and summer was nearing its end... it made you sulk and pout at the thought, not even getting the chance to have a real conversation with her... what a bu- ding..ding the sound of the door cut you away from your thoughts, at first you didn't even realize. maybe its been so long and your memory has started to get hazy, or you were just so tired you didn't bother to look at their face that much... but once she was Infront of you..you realized.. shes back!

"one black coffee with no sugar please." her monotone voice sounded like an angel just sung to you. you didn't even know her but god did you miss her sexy face. "you're back" you stared at her with soft eyes and a smile as you handed her the change from her drink. you didn't notice then but it caught her off guard. someone had noticed she was gone..were they welcoming her back? did they want to know why she was gone? why'd they even care..she didn't know them like that....but it still made a small part of her heart beat a little bit faster... "what happened to your cheek?" you were getting out your comfort zone, you were usually timid and too anxious to attempt small talk to a customer. especially one as attractive as the one standing Infront of your eyes. "nothing. thank you for the coffee." she rubbed her right cheek and walked off...usually youd leave it at that. you wouldn't interact with her again because it was clear she wasn't interested in your small talk.. but... what if she disappeared again? and what if this time she never came back? you didn't want to risk fumbling someone as perfect as her. the epitome of a seemingly perfect woman... you looked around the shop, making sure the coworker that never showed up that day didn't randomly appear...and making sure there wasnt any customer on their way inside. you slipped your apron off and slowly made your way to the corner noeul always sat at. "a..ahem...can I sit here...?" clearly nervous you shuffled with your fingers, looking away as to not make eye contact with her...it'd probably make things 10x more embarrassing if she said no. "yeah, you can" ... and with that the two of you formed a friendship that only grew as days passed. not knowing what kind of future awaited the two of you.

timeskip

its been around 2 years since the two of you met and well, you're both dating now. and have been for the past year.. you obviously know more about noeul now but shes still as mysterious as ever, you think its attractive though. and it seems a lot of her background is touchy so you don't push on it...shes only mentioned that she isn't from south korea once and that's about all you've gotten surrounding that...but what isn't attractive to you is how controlling shes been lately. at first you though it was cute. she wouldnt let you go out alone for too long or befriend anyone new without her knowing when you first started dating. that was pretty normal for a girl that had her strange tendencies, right?. what isn't normal is how she made you quit your job so you could be 'safe' at home. she wont allow you to be out alone at all. she doesnt even let you have any social media account..you were banned from all of it. you have to ask her to do everything if you can shower, watch TV, if you can eat. and its really starting to scare you. she put a lock on the bedroom door from the outside, and only she had the key. so you cant go anywhere when you two sleep unless you wake her up for permission. you never even realized how bad its gotten until it was too late. you were wearing rose tinted glasses, not letting yourself see how toxic shes gotten. and now that you've taken them off, you're far too deep in the rabbit hole to just climb your way out. she waits for you outside the bathroom, she doesn't let you lock any doors, you cant even be in a different room from her for more than 10 minutes before she barges in. the only time you truly feel safe and alone is when she leaves for around a week every summer.

youre nearing your 2 year anniversary with her. you'd be ecstatic if it weren't for the fact shes basically taken over your entire life. if it was bad 1 year in, it's horrible now. you can barely even breath without her staring holes into your face. you feel trapped and you're starting to regret ever approaching her that day. what happened to the noeul that was calm and well kept? the one that would help you with your uni work and tell you small stories about her life as a 19 year old. stories she thinks you can relate to since you're the same age. what happened to the noeul that would laugh at the jokes you'd make of her age. not minding it when you'd call her old because she knew you loved her age. now even mention it and she 'calmly' asks you "isn't this what you wanted? an older woman to slut you out?" normally your panties would've been soaked and you'd just ask her to eat you out at that moment but it feels so aggressive.. you're on edge around her, you don't want to make her upset... but you can never tell when you have because of her stoic face. she never seems to break the calm facial expressions she always has. either a smile or just no readable expression at all...

but there is good news, news that could maybe get you out of this mess. you were scared of her, not only that but you had no money. she was the one taking care of the both of you... so what if...you got a job? if you applied and they accepted you no way she would just force you to quit right? and maybe..maybe she'd change...so you wouldn't need to use the money to buy a small apartment for yourself

...

"I'm going now." noeul stares at you with a soft expression, one that will always melt your heart no matter what has happened between the two of you. "okay baby, please stay safe. I love you" you run into her arms, hugging her tightly before getting onto your tippy toes to give her a loving kiss. even though you're scared of her, scared of what she might do in the future...you still love her. with your entire life, and you really do mean it when you say it. her cold hands cup your face as she kisses your forehead. her soft lips leaving a warm feeling not only on your head but in your heart too. "here.." she pulls her right hand from her pocket, showing 2 silver keys and a small phone. ones for the front door, and the other is for all the other rooms in your apartment. "you already know the rules, right doll?" you hesitantly nodded as your smaller hands grabbed the two keys and phone from hers. "I'll still repeat them incase you forgot one. you arent allowed to leave the house unless you need to buy food, you cant stay up past 8pm, the phone is only for important calls, and you cannot talk to anyone. no one at all... you understand princess?" you nod your head slowly, looking up at noeul as she smiles. her smile isn't that genuine though. its more of a cold, forced smile... maybe one that's supposed to intimidate you into obeying her rules... but you already have a plan. and that plan breaks all those rules.... "I'll be back in a week like always, I love you. okay y/n?" she kisses you once more before leaving the space you two were once in, filling it with silence before you heard the soft click of the door closing.. you knew exactly what you needed to do now, you need to escape the tight grip she has on your life.

its been a day since noeul left to go do her weird murdered job. you know about the games but it doesnt phase you too much. not even when you first heard about it. you even thought it was a little thrilling.. your girlfriend kills people for money...shes scary..scary and hot. not only that but you were so in love you didn't even care. maybe she knew that. maybe that's why she told you, she knew she had you wrapped around her finger. but you were different now, you took off the glasses that diluted the world. you were facing it head on it with the hard truth. you love noeul with all your heart but...you don't want to be in a relationship where you're scared for your...life

you were so distracted in your thoughts you didnt even realize you walked past the store you wanted to apply to work at. the coffee shop you met noeul at .. where you found love.. you walked a couple steps back before you faced the brown and green door, the one you would see every day in the morning and night.. ding ding the sound of the door opening rang in your ears, the same sound as always. you should be happy at this moment, you're going to apply for a job.. you'll be able to escape noeuls crazy controlling life style... you should be happy...but why weren't you. you felt nothing but dread walking into that store. your stomach was doing flips, your palms were getting sweaty and you felt your heart beating outside your chest. thoughts started to flood your head as you stood there inside the cafe, like your feet were glued to the ground. .....but- noeul..I shouldn't do this. I'm breaking her trust. she trusts me I- but I need to get away..shes scary...but but but..... "y/n?" the familiar voice cut you away from your thoughts..you looked up and it was the lady you used to always work with. she was only a few years older than you but she was always the more childish one between the two. the both of you shared the same shift and you weren't friends but you were.. close strangers maybe? "a- minyoung... hello" you bowed awkwardly. not wanting to be rude but also not trying to come off as too respectful "y/n, hi! I thought I'd never see you again after you quit haha.." she joked, a little unsure but she has the compassion. "uh..are you here to apply for work?" she stared at you, anticipating your answer.. it felt like the same eyes you were giving noeul when she came back to the shop that day.. waiting for her to say yes to you. 'yeah I am..can I?" min young softly smiled at you and nodded. as if welcoming you back to the cafe. you felt a pang in your chest, like your heart was telling you no. to just listen to noeul and you'd be safe. but you had a feeling that wasnt true. you wanted to do your own things even if it meant leaving the woman you loved most. because at this point, you dont even recognize her

it didn't take long for you to get accepted..like at all. when you got home from the cafe you saw you already had a text message. "hello y/n, I'm pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted. thank you for applying. you come into work starting tomorrow :)" it was honestly no surprise to you that they accepted your work application so quickly. not to sound cocky but you were undoubtedly the best worker they had, if someone didn't show up you'd come in their space, you wouldn't flirt with customers you made the coffee perfectly, you'd clean up the cafe before closing the store up, you never made mistakes. and it was even more impressive when your coworkers almost always didn't show up or do anything..other than minyoung. you smiled to yourself, was this truly the start of a new life? were you finally going to be free from noeuls grasp? you still felt sad, like you were breaking the trust she had in you but...you just wanted to be free...and maybe...maybe this could change her mind and she'd be less strict with you. it could go back to when you first started dating..she wouldnt control every aspect of your life. that's all you wanted right now.

you were losing track of how many days you'd been working. not paying attention to if noeul overstayed her work trip, or if it was even the day she was coming back. you were just happy to finally be back at work, with minyoung. the two of you were a lot closer now..closer than before. you two again shared the same schedule. right now she was drawing on the palm of your hand, you had no idea what it was but you were holding in your giggle and trying your best to stay still since the pen was tickling your palm. it seemed as if she drew a cat and was drawing numbers, you weren't really paying attention now though. you were staring outside the window..looking at the now setting sun. minyoung would drive you home everyday, your shift didn't end until it was dark and she didn't want anything to happen to you.. but you suddenly felt a strong sense of dread, like something bad was going to happen...and it was going to happen quick. "uhh..minyoung" you spoke with an obvious edge to your voice, it was almost shaky with nervousness. but it seemed she didn't pick up on that as she only hummed at you and stayed focused on your palm. "do you feel nervous too? I dont know...I just feel scared right now" minyoung stared up at you confused and worried.. "huh? I dont feel it..no.. do you want to go home early? maybe you're sick" you shook your head no and stares down at your palm, the ink started to smear a little. your palms were getting sweaty..you were only getting more nervous.. before you could mutter another word the cafe door flung open, a loud bang over powering the ding the door usually made when opened. you and minyoung flinched and jumped back as you stared at the person there. it was noeul..she clearly ran her way here on foot..you had no idea from where but she was gasping and sweat lined her forehead..not only was she sweating but a scowl covered her face. she was angry...and she was angry at you. minyoung leaned into your ear and quickly whispered something... "isn't that the lady that used to always come by? sh-" noeul loudly interrupted your coworker, the loudness of her voice startled you both. it was like there was a megaphone connected inside her throat.. "y/n. come here. now." she stood right in front of the cafe door, you were stunned. you didn't know what to do. it was like your mind was focused on only noeul because for a bit you forgot minyoung was even there. "don't make me ask again, doll." her voice was stern but gentle. it wasn't loud and upset like just a moment ago...but you were still scared of her...of what she'd do.. you gulped down the lump forming in your throat and took off your apron. you opened the small door that separated the baristas and the customers, with a light click it was free... you slowly walked towards noeul, you were anxious..and nervous. she wouldnt do anything to you right? especially not Infront of someone else.. you were now facing her, her sharp features stared at you like daggers. her seemingly dark soulless eyes only made you shake harder..you were terrified. "noeul i-" before you could even muster the rest of your sentence she gripped at your hair and pulled you out of the store. you shrieked and clawed at the hand that griped at your hair but it was no use..noeul was a lot stronger than you and you knew now that you messed up..big time. "p-please noeul stop AH! please please stop noeul that hurts that hurts it hurts please!" your pleas fell on deaf ears as she only dragged you down the street before stopping infront of a taxi. "take us to ----- please" you were blacking out, your head was fuzzy. you didn't know what to do you were so scared. you never thought noeul would actually hurt you, but she was. she was hurting you. and it hurt...alot... the man stared at noeul and at you, wary of letting a potential kidnapper inside his car. "this is just a kink of ours. don't worry" he stares at you waiting for any kind of response...you didn't know what to do...so you just nodded.. noeul opened the taxi door and pushed you inside.

just as noeul was moving her way inside the car you heard someone yelling your name..it was minyoung...she was running down the street frantically waving her hands at the taxi driver, trying her best to get him to not go so she could save (?) you from noeul. but it didn't work.. "go, I'll pay you more if you get us there quickly." noeuls deadpan voice only sent shivers down your spine, she was so calm. even when she was basically kidnapping you. "yes ma'am." and like that the car started and drove off, leaving minyoung there as she slumped down onto the ground..crying out of fear for you.

you were at the apartment you two shared, you were sitting on a chair at the dining table. occasionally shifting in your chair, causing it to creak under the pressure...youre only staring at your lap, refusing to stare at noeul. you're scared that if you do, youll fall into pieces in front of her...that's only an opening to getting taken advantage of. "why'd you try leaving me. why'd you break my rules. I told you clearly, but look at you now. do you know why I put up these rules?" right at the other end of the table sat noeul. her dark eyes drilling holes into your head, her voice was calm but irritated. all she wanted was for you to stay safe, so why. why dont you want to obey? "i-..I just want freedom..you're always behind me..supervising me like I'm some delicate child..I don't want it anymore" the two of you barely started speaking but you were already tearing up, you just want noeul to love you normally. you want your relationship to be normal. "y/n. you are a child. you are a helpless child. you're barely in your twenties. do you really think you can strive alone in this cruel world? you live comfortably with me because I take care of you. I keep you safe. you don't need freedom. you need safety and that's with me." her voice only got deeper and more aggressive. she was getting upset, just hearing you say you wanted to do your own things made her want to lock you inside your bedroom forever. "you're so naive y/n. you really think the world would be as nice as I've been to you? you're wrong. you wont survive without me and you know it. stop trying to be independent because we both know you'd be dead without me." tears started to stream down your plush cheeks, your nose was getting runny and your voice was getting shaky. you felt your throat close up, you felt like you couldn't speak. you didn't know what to do. "i-..I just want to be free..i- dont feel safe around you i-" a loud bang filled the small living room the both of you were sat in. noeul had slammed her hand onto the table, startling you and making you jump. this just caused you to cry harder. you were just scared, you were scared of her. you just wanted to dig a hole in the ground and hide. "scared of me? you? you're scared of me? who approached me first? who told me she liked me first? who make the first moves? it was all you y/n. you did everything. it's you're fault you're with me and now you have to deal with it. cant you just realize I'm keeping you safe? you were born to be mine. why cant you just let it process in your brain?" aa..there it was. she had a habit of turning things and pinning it onto you. you were tired of it, you were tired of this. "you always end up blaming me! why am I always wrong? why cant you just admit what you're doing is wrong! I cant even breath without you staring me down! I'd just be better off without you...not living in fear.." you sobbed into your hands, you were shaking and crying. was this a break up? were you breaking up? noeul hasn't said anything, she wasn't even moved..so maybe it was... but what you didn't know, those words to noeul were like stab into her heart. if you thought you were better off without her. then she had to show you that you truly weren't. youre nothing but a lost puppy without her... you wiped your salty tears with your sleeves, you eyes felt puffy and you were tired..maybe you'd just sleep in an alley way tonight and figure the rest out later...you got up slowly, and made your way to the front door...you were going to leave..you were doing it..you were free from her grasp.. just as your soft hands touched the cold door knob you felt something hard hit you in the back of the head...and before you knew it you fell to the floor and blacked out.

you woke up gasping for air, you were hyperventilating.. gasping loudly and uncontrollably, looking around and all you saw was darkness you couldn't see anything. you tried to get up and you felt your hands being tied down...you were handcuffed to the bed.. you started freaking out, crying as you tried to calm yourself down. "noeul..please...I'm sorry.." your words were barely over a whisper, you choked out quiet sobs as you just let yourself lay there. you had no way out. and you're slowly starting to realize this... click noeul turned on one of the bedroom lights, giving it enough light for you to look around. but not enough to light up the whole room. "princess..." your eyes snapped up, staring at the figure in front of your bed...lean and tall..it was noeul.. the shadows of her face making her features even sharper than before. she was like a wood carving..every detail was meticulously carved and shaped... "n-noeul..please..I'm sorry.. let me go.." tears staining the collar of your sweater, you stared up at her. desperate for her help. "nope." she deadpanned, but her face wasn't stoic. she was smiling..the same smile she gave you before she left for her job. it wasn't genuine. it was sinister..and intimidating. "who was that girl? the one that chased after you when we left. was that your new girlfriend? is she why you're trying to leave me?" your eyes widen as you shake your head frantically. the last thing you want her to assume you're doing is cheating..especially right now. "n-no I'm not close to her like that! shes just my old co worker.. she isn't even my friend..." you gulp, your throat feels dry and your head is getting fuzzy. she believes you right? she'll let you go once she realizes you're telling the truth.. right? her icecold face feels like its burning you, you cant tell what shes thinking. and it scares you shitless. "yeah. so is that why she wrote her number on your hand? or are you gonna keep acting stupid." wait..what? you stared at her with genuine confusion, unsure what she was talking about. and its not like you could stare at your hand to check..and she caught on your confusion. she knows how you act. you've been together for 2 years now..she knows you. "she wrote her number on your hand. I guess you didn't know though...why would you let someone else touch you though. or speak to you." you stared at her...you didn't know what to say...so you just looked away and stayed quiet. you didn't want to trigger her even more.. "I guess I'll just have to show you that you're mine. and mark you while I'm at it too.." she smiles, her eerie smile..as always... she turned around and walked towards a nightstand near the bed, she opened the top cabinet and took out two things that made your breath hitch in your throat. a knife and a barrel. you started to kick your feet and squirm under the restraints she put on you. you dont want to die...you don't want to die like this.. "don't worry doll, I wont you....I'll just..show you that you belong to me" he sets the gun down next to you before lifting your skirt and grazing the knife on your plush thighs. you started to cry, the feeling of the cold metal touching your skin was terrifying. what if she cuts deep? what if it gets infected? what if- your body jolts up at the stinging feeling that's overwhelming your right thigh. you cant look at it. you cant. but you can feel warm blood drip from your thigh and on to the blanket under you. youre shaking uncontrollably now..you don't know what to do..you cant do anything either way.. you stare down and watch her as she carefully moves the sharp knife on the skin of your thigh. your blood painting the knife red as she carves her name on your thigh.. KANG NO EUL the cuts are large, it takes up half your thigh...you can feel the stinging..it hurts...the blood...you feel dizzy... and if the fact noeul just carved her name onto you wasn't bad enough, her licking the blood off of you made it worse. "your blood tastes nice...i can only wonder how you taste. hm?... I already know ofcourse.. but I forgot already."

she smiled up at you, but her smile was different..not full of anger..but desire. maybe it was how her eyes looked. or the context of what just happened but..it made you feel some way. "a-are you done now..I'm scared..." noeul stares at you, a blank stare and leans down and licks ur cheek so slow that it makes you almost uncomfortable .. "youre so cute when you're scared. it makes me horny.. did you know that?" she gave you her infamous smile before quickly grabbing the gun next to you and pointing it at your head.. if you weren't scared before you definitely were now. "you wanna live, right baby?" you nodded like a madman, your eyes looking up at her. pleading with her for your life with just your eyes... but if noeul had a dick it'd be ripping through her pants right now, staring at you so vulnerable and scared..it makes her so horny. you're so weak..she needs to ruin you.. she tapped the tip of the gun onto your lips as she looked at you with a creepy wide grin, her soulless eyes scrunching up in the corner. "deep throat the gun and you'll live." what...w- you cant do that.. its a gun...guns aren't toys to mess around with..you...you don't want to.. "if you dont want to that's fine. ill just pull the trigger and leave you here dead. are you gonna be smart, or stupid y/n." you gulped down, your mouth was dry and you felt like you'd die of dehydration at any second. your lips quivered as you opened your mouth wide enough for noeul to push the gun into your mouth. you started to suck at the gun, occasionally gagging as noeul pushed the gun too far into your throat. your movements were limited as your arms were still chained onto the bed frame. wet noises filled the room and you sucked on the gun as if it were a dick. your spit dripping off your chin and the gun. "ffucck..if I knew how hot this would be before i wouldve made you do this ages ago.." your face started to heat up, your face pounding inside your chest as you stared at noeul. her breathing was getting heavy and uncoordinated... she was getting turned on. your mouth made wet slurping noises, you were doing good and haven't stopped..until you flinched and took the gun out of your mouth.. noeuls thumb sneaked under your skirt and had started to make circles around your clothed clit. you held in your noises but some snuck their way through. noeul looked up at you, face a bit flushed and stared at your mouth.. "who told you could take the barrel out of your mouth?" you flinched eyes zapped around the room, as if looking for someone who could potentially be looking at the two you before stuffing your mouth with the gun again. you started up at her with wide dilated pupils, your huge eyes now burning holes into her head. and God did she love it. your face was flushed red as you felt noeuls fingers slip your panties off, the cold air of the room hit your pussy as you shivered under the cold air. the stinging, the cold air, the metal of the gun.. all your senses are getting overwhelmed you don't even know what's happening. noeul takes the gun out of your mouth, giving you a chance to properly breathe. your rabid breaths and wet lips would drive any sane person insane. "fuck you're so sexy, js wanna ruin your body.." her other hand walked its way up your torso and your lips, she opened her mouth slightly..instructing you to do the same. you opened your mouth and let noeul shove 2 of her long fingers inside your mouth. the cold skin was a contrast to your warm wet mouth...you started to suck at them harshly, like you would die if you didn't. noeuls other hand started to rub your clit, causing you to shake and shiver under her touch... she was playing around with you, teasing you...until you finally felt two of her fingers go inside of you.. you moaned embarrassingly loud against her fingers as she moved her fingers in a rough pace. curling them, making a scissoring motion, plowing them in and out... it all hurt you, it felt like she was trying to split you in half.

your pussy made disgusting wet sounds, it was so loud it filled the room.. not only that but the sounds your mouth made as you were sucking on her other fingers made it considerably worse. "n-noeul ah- mh..fuck it hurts s-stop..." your words were a little muffled but the message still got out..it hurt and you didn't like that... noeul stared at you before slamming her fingers in and out of you insanely fast. it made you choke out a mix of a moan and screech because it just hurt so bad but also felt so so so good. noeul leaned down and was inches away from your face, her hot breath tickling your soft skin.. "you don't get to decide what I do to you. I'll ruin your body today and you wont be able to do shit about it." she grinned before taking her face away from yours. she shoved her fingers out of your mouth with a pop before slapping her hand hard against your tender cheek. leaving a red spot before rubbing the warm skin... "you understand?" her soft eyes stared into yours, you felt...weirdly safe? you couldn't pin point what you felt but it was nice.... "y..yeess ah- oh....noeul...fuck.." you arched your back against the bed, you felt yourself getting closer and closer..her fingers filling up your cunt as your juices dripped onto the blanket underneath you, some of it mixing with the now dried blood there too. "are you getting close baby?" her fingers goings faster and faster, at a speed you weren't sure was humanly possible. you nodded frantically, trying your best to grind onto her fingers even if you could barely move with the restraints tied to your wrist. "nope!"she gave a creepily happy expression before taking her fingers out of your cunt. "you don't really deserve it yet."

the two of you were at the dining table again, she had uncuffed you from the bed. and now you were sitting at the table you sat at only a few hours ago...your legs forced open, showing off for noeul. "you're so pretty...and delicate.." noeul got up from her chair and walked over to you grabbing the knife she used to cut your thigh. she traced it along your skin, making small patterns with it but never pressing hard enough to actually cut you. "you'd do anything for me right? you've realized how important I am to you right?" your voice feels shaking and sore, you don't know if you should say yes or no...but you had a feeling you'd die if you said no.. "y-yes mommy..i-..id do anything for you... m' entire world..." you looked up at her, you had no idea what was taking over you. you were just so fucking horny for her. you needed her so bad even if you were terrified. you raised your legs a little and used your fingers to spread your pussy for her. "u-use me up please..." she grinned at you, she stared at you like a proud mother... like the mother you never had.. "good girl..." she patted your head, like she was petting a stray dog she found off the side of the street...like you weren't nothing more than a little pet for her to use. "then fuck yourself with this gun." she reached her hand behind her, setting down the knife and grabbing the barrel that sat at the table. usually you'd be freaking out right now, squirming in your chair and pleading with her to just pick anything else but..you weren't. you were just so needy for her, you needed to make her proud. forgive you for being bad...and..its not like its much different compared to deep throating one right?

your slick juices covered the cold metal of the gun as you started to insert it in you. it was large and it felt a lot more..unique..than what you're used to.. you pumped it in and out of your cunt, it was making loud noises and you were moaning and gasping at the feeling...it felt surprisingly good...you wanted more..more..more...you shoved it deeper and deeper inside of your gummy hole until you just couldn't put more inside, you were grinding onto it. moaning and letting whines and whimpers escape your mouth. you stared up at noeul noticing her usually calm stoic face flushed and scrunching up. she was touching herself to you. rubbing her clit as she watched you fuck yourself with the gun shes used to kill a few people in her life..it was so thrilling...so fucking hot. "n-noeul..can I cum..please ah-.." you were gasping, squirming and panting. you wanted to cum...she didn't let you cum on her fingers and you were twitching with neediness. you wanted to release..you could feel it coming and you weren't sure if you could hold back any longer.. "y..yeah..go ahead sweet heart..cum for me..ffuuck.." based on her breathing and the shakiness in her tone..she was close too...you moved it in and out of your cunt, sticky wet liquids all over your inner thighs, gun and some on your hands...you need this..you needed to release you need to.. "a-aah aou..ahh~ mm..yes..yes...ou m cumming m cumahh~!" your loud voice echoed throughout the apartment. your back arching against the chain as you came all over the gun, it felt so good..so fucking good... "that was so hot y/n...fuck...I need more of you.. now."

...

Another note:was the ending too abrupt? sorry if it was fue fue T T n sorry if the story seems too rushed esp the ending...bc it was.. I haven't written in a while so,, sorry if most of this sucked or felt repetitive>.< ....

[stalkedbytrains]

[Behold! More! As requested by a lovely person on my kofi]

It had been a weird week if you're being perfectly honest.

Your usual bread guy was held hostage by one of the new weird upstart villain that has been bucking the trend of signing up with the Villain Union, so you didn't have the good sourdough for a few days. Which would have been fine if you had the time to make it yourself but you haven't had the time. And honestly your sourdough isn't nearly as good as Jesse's.

Fearsome Night has been coming in as something of a weird regular. He's... not subtle.

And you don't want to cast aspersions on anyone, especially a super villain. But like... he came in whatever he considers his non-villain persona to scout the place, and it was clear that he was a super villain.

He might as well have had the newspaper with the eyes cut out for as subtle as he was being in your shop.

Still ordered the Equinox and chips.

And, again, he was extremely not subtle, since someone in front of him ordered the Fearsome Night with "extra fearsome" he let out a loud whoop that he utterly failed as disguising as a cough.

If you didn't know any better, you'd suspect that he was waiting to see if Equinox would come in and order from you.

He didn't, at least not while Fearsome was lurking around.

Adrienne Moore did come in and get a double Vestige on rye though. The entire shop went eerily silent as you made the sandwich. She was intimidating as hell. And it was interesting to see Fearsome make eye contact and not react or do anything to notorious rule breaking hero.

You could have sworn there was some recognition there.

No one in the shop dare commented on her ordering the sandwich named after her infamous villain mother.

At least Adrienne tipped super well. Always did.

Eventually Fearsome Night didn't come in for a few days, and you were honestly a little grateful. This weird energy he was bringing in was not making for a healthy working environment and you don't know how chummy you want to get with a super villain.

Finally at the end of the week, you were close to finishing up for the night. You needed to bag up the last of the day old bread to take to the local homeless shelter, mop, and then lock up.

The bell over the door rang and in walked Equinox of all people.

You tried to bite your tongue, you really did, but you hadn't managed to fully leave 'customer service' mode yet.

"Hey there, haven't seen you in a little bit. You good?"

You shouldn't have asked. You shouldn't have opened that door.

Very rarely will someone see the opening created by small talk and just answer honestly. It's always off-putting.

"Yeah, been busy. You know, the job," they say as they gesture to their elaborate costume.

You nod politely. "Usual?" you ask to try and shift the subject but somehow you know that it isn't going to work.

"Yeah, Fearsome Night on sourdough."

You grimace. "Out of sourdough this week. Sorry. My guy got held hostage by Siege Works or whatever that new guy was that took over the library. He's taking some time off to recover and stuff."

"Damn that villain! He can't stop until he ruins everything he touches!"

"Sorry. I can do any of the other usual breads."

"Fine, can I get it with rye then?"

"Sure," you mutter and try to distract yourself with the sandwich crafting.

"Yeah I was going to come in," Equinox says to fill the dead air, "but I saw Fearsome Night was here. So I thought it would be awkward if I ordered his sandwich in front of him."

"Yeah... he's been something of a regular this week. He's ordered like 12 sandwiches from me this week."

"Really? Do I want to ask?"

You plead, beg, silently, that they don't ask what you know they are going to ask.

"What sandwich does he get?"

You look up from the mostly completed sandwich. You hope that your look is conveying enough sad pleading to get them to relent the question. You don't want to be in the middle of this. It's so weird. It's awkward.

But they don't relent.

"He's a vegetarian apparently so he gets and Equinox. Anyways! Here's your," you say. As you hand them the sandwich and start to say the name outloud when who should bust in, causing the bell over your door to dance and happy little jingle.

"Fearsome Night," all three of you say at the same time. No one else adds the "on rye" but you do.

"I KNEW IT!" he shouts.

"Don't read into this! They make a great sandwich!" Equinox says, trying to defend themself.

"Yes I do," you say at the same time that Fearsome Night says, "Yes they do!"

"YOU LIKE ME! I mean... YOU LIKE MY SANDWICH!" Fearsome Night declares.

"We're closing soon. I have to mop," you say, but no one is paying attention.

"That doesn't mean anything! Don't you dare think any more of this!" Equinox counters.

"It's going to be eight dollars. Here's your chips."

"HA! YOU EVEN LIKE BARBECUE CHIPS! THE MOST SUPERIOR CHIP FLAVOR!"

"What does that even have to do with anything?" Equinox counters.

"It doesn't," you mutter, even though neither of them is paying attention to you.

"IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH!"

"TO DO WITH WHAT?"

"I KNEW THERE WAS SOME SEXY KIND OF SPARK HERE! WHEN WE FOUGHT BY THE LIGHT HOUSE LAST YEAR!"

"WHY DO YOU ALWAYS SHOUT?"

"STOP DEFLECTING THE QUESTION!"

"Mister Fearsome Night," you try to interject and get nowhere.

"You are insufferable!" Equinox says.

"You like it!" Fearsome Night counters.

"GUYS!" you finally shout. They turn to you as if they just now realized that you were still there. "I'm closing shop now. Here's your Equinox and chips. Here's your Fearsome Night and chips. This is on the house. Now please leave."

"I DID NOT ORDER A SANDWICH!"

"I KNOW!" you shout back. "But now you don't have an excuse to not sit and eat together. There's a nice secluded little park a block north. Now I really have to mop so I can go home and shower!"

"OH! Uh... thank you," Fearsome Night said awkwardly.

Equinox took their own sandwich with some reluctance and a little shame, like they had just gotten caught doing something embarrassing.

"Thank you," they muttered.

"Yes, yes, you're welcome, now please, please leave. And I swear if you ever do this kind of thing in my shop again I will ban both of you from ever returning. And you may be thinking 'oh this cute and very talented sandwich maker can't ban a super villain and super hero from their shop who do they think they are to challenge us?' I want to remind you that I have a standing order for Mariana and their whole entourage. And Dayline comes in every Sunday for a coffee and a breakfast sandwich. If you want me telling my best costumers why they might not be getting their stuff, try me."

Suddenly both supers were very humble.

"Thank you," they both say quietly.

"Go. Eat. I'll see you later," you say as you push them fully out the door.

The bell jingles as the door settles into it's closed position.

You turn the lock, and flip the open sign to closed. The last thing you hear is, "I guess we should go to the park?"

"I HEAR IT IS LOVELY THIS TIME OF NIGHT!"

You own a sandwich shop in the heart of a superhero city. After gaining customers by making sandwiches based on heroes, you decided to try making some based on villains. Today, a villain stopped to review theirs.

[cheetabites]

☆彡 nasty ˳༄꠶

character: park gyeong-seok (player 246)

˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for player 246

sfw headcannons

★ as he is a visual artist, if he’d ever found himself captivated with you he’d try to capture your beauty on paper; simultaneously recognizing your attractive external features while internalizing both your positive characteristics and flaws

★ his wife died from a similar cancer, so hearing that his daughter was diagnosed with blood cancer almost teetered him into depression - but he built himself up to support her

★ he not only draws portraits, but views of nature that he observes when he takes his daughter out on picnics or to the beach - outings like this caused his daughter to have a fondness for nature documentaries

★ he’s a very charismatic person but after his wife died he became a bit more withdrawn; he hasn’t dated in all the years since her passing, and it’s a bit harder for him to approach possible romantic interests

★ meeting you in the games made his romantic perusal reignite, as the looming threat of death followed your steps within the facility. he definitely admired you from afar after saved him in red light green light, and tried to remain as close to you as possible whenever the opportunity arose; he’s a bit timid though, preferring for you to take charge so you’re comfortable within the complicated relationship you both have with each other (he doesn’t want to overstep)

nsfw headcannons

★ he’s a switch; he likes domming, but with the pressure of his daughter’s health condition - and the racking medical bills - he’s been leaning towards subbing more. there’s just too much anxiety and stress that he’d been dealing with and it’s easier to give up control to his partner

★ he’s more into praise and soft touches rather than impact play and degradation; again, because he’s already been struggling and he doesn’t need someone saying mean things. although when the situation is right, he will go for a bit of condescending talk in bed - especially when he’s eating you out

★ he’s a really intimate person so the position you guys have sex in will be ones where he can see your face; if he’s on top he likes to brush away the hair that sticks to your face and praise you

★ he has a breeding kink but it’s been a bit more under control ever since his daughter was diagnosed. he 100% would love to have another child but wants to wait until na-yeon gets better and their financial situation improves; so he either ‘breeds’ you with a condom on or when you’re on some type of birth control

★ he doesn’t hide his sounds of pleasure when you’re engaging in the activity, so you’d hear him grunt and groan. and he definitely doesn’t like it when you try to hide yours, even if you’re loud enough to wake up the people around you

the end! i hope you enjoyed!

[ink-stainedkiss]

Husband Sukuna Ryomen Headcannons

Husband!Sukuna who is completely wrapped around your finger, but would never make it known. He has slaughtered thousands, is feared by his own village, and is a horror story to children. Yet, he enjoys resting his head in your lap and falls asleep peacefully as you play with his hair. As one would expect, Sukuna wouldn’t dare to show the soft side of himself, as it’s reserved for only his adoring wife.

Husband!Sukuna who feels off whenever you aren’t right next to him. No matter where, if you aren’t standing with him, he shifts uncomfortably and ends up calling for your presence. When Sukuna realized he had these unfamiliar feelings for you, it was decided that you could never get rid of him.

Husband!Sukuna who is too stubborn for his own good and can not for the life of him express his feelings. His bull-headed attitude always made disagreements turn into petty fights. You had learned that it’s better to give him space, rather than go back and forth.

Sukuna had done it again. He had killed off an innocent servant without a second thought. You couldn’t help but feel guilty that Sukuna didn’t face you with his merciless personality. There were only a selective few that the King of Curses didn’t wish death upon if they served no purpose. As you got word of why the poor servant was cut into pieces, you felt frustration build in you at the insignificant reason for her demise. You marched to your shared chamber, a deep furrow in your brow, and unsurprisingly, Sukuna was ever peaceful, reading a book on your bed.

“Is something wrong?” He hummed boredly, not looking up to meet your hardened gaze,”As a matter of fact, yes.” The king raised a curious brow, but shared no more interest,”What is the issue?” Standing unwaveringly, you plead your case,”You killed off a servant girl.” Sukuna nodded shortly,”I did. Is that all?”

Your jaw tightened,”You did it with no reason at all.” Sukuna gave you an indifferent look, clearly not seeing why you were upset,”She knocked over one of your vases, I had every right to kill her,” Your hands turned into fist,”No you didn’t. It was just painted clay, we could have gotten another one from the town’s potter.”

Sukuna set his book to the side, anger beginning to grow,”That was a gift. Are you telling me that you show no care toward my gracious offering?” You pinched the bridge of your nose,”No Sukuna. I loved the vase, it was beautiful,” You gave him a desperate look,”But that girl didn’t deserve to die over a simple mistake.” He looked you up and down, his tense expression unmoving.

“I detest your ability to forgive someone so easily.” You felt your hope run out at his heartless response. You exhaled softly, beginning to turn away. Sukuna noticed your change and he felt a sharp pang in his chest. Moving towards the door, you turned over your shoulder,” I apologize for wasting your time,”

Sukuna reached out and tried to call for you, but his chamber door was already shut. The king tossed his head back against the headboard and let out an audible groan.

Husband!Sukuna who replays your saddened voice over and over again and realizes he has to make it up to you. It was clear you were passionate about this topic and all Sukuna did was make it worse. So even if he’s completely terrible at voicing his apology, he understands that’s the only way to make you feel better.

Husband!Sukuna who seeks you out all throughout the estate, rushing past the workers and making them jump at his fervency. After searching for what seemed like forever, he goes to the last place in his mind. The gardens. This place was for Sukuna to rest in and for Sukuna only, that was until he found you. The two of you shared the sacred space often, just whenever you needed a moment of quiet. The garden was fenced off and only a certain few could enter the premises.

Husband!Sukuna who lets out a sigh of relief as he finds you sitting alone near a thin river.

Sukuna calmly walked over, sitting down next to you, and it was almost comical to see this beast of a man resting by your side. The silence between you two was agonizing, but you seem unbothered. The king carefully moved his head, revealing a pure white rose,”I plucked this for you. Its beauty reminds of you.”

Despite your anger, his words made your heart flutter, and you took it quietly. Your fingers fiddled with the delicate petals,”Thank you,” Sukuna wasn’t greatly pleased with your words. His mind ran laps around what he should say and eventually he spoke up,”I will try to be more…pitying.” Your head whipped around, facing your husband in shock,”Really? Would you do that?”

He let out a lenient sigh, giving you a short nod,”If it makes you happy, then I shall.” Sukuna knew you were giving him those pathetic eyes that made him feel all warm and gross, so he didn’t meet your gaze. Before he could continue, your body was leaping onto his, making the King fall onto the grass with a small groan.

His face was decorated in tiny kisses and you thanked him endlessly,”Oh, thank you Kuna. I’m forever in your debt.” Sukuna rolled his eyes, staring up at you as you halted your persistent kisses,”Don’t say such foolish things. You’re in no one’s debt and you never will be.” His words made your smile wider and once again he was smothered in your lips.

It seemed like merely a fable that the King of Curses was letting out belly laughs as his wife showed him so much affection.

Husband!Sukuna who tells himself that nothing, no living or dead creature shall take you away from him, and he would rain hell on the earth if they dared to try.

[marikosfragrance]

BLUE LOCK X READER

"Can they fall in love?"

Characters : Karasu Tabito, Otoya Eita, Chigiri Hyoma, Yukimiya Kenyu

Contents : Can they fall in love? How long would it take? And what conditions must be met for it to happen?

Note : Thank you so much for the love involving my previous posts, aswell as the asks. This is for an ask aswell, I hope you enjoy this!! I had fun doing this aswell.

Disclaimer : I do not claim ownership for the characters. Once again, their personalities are my analysis and are base on how I understood them, and I portrayed them in a way that is in accordance to all the information I got from the trivia, anime and manga. It is your own choice whether or not you feel like this is canon. In my case, I tried to make it as canon as possible. Please excuse grammatical errors.

Karasu Tabito

Can they fall in love : Of course! Karasu can fall in love, and pretty much understands its concept. He is smart, and his character is quite relatable, a type of character that despite how special they are, sees themselves as inferior compared to those with not so average skills. I wouldn't say he is purely insecure, or has very low self esteem like Tokimitsu, however it is there and has been proven that Karasu views himself as "mediocre" and seems to use this fake air of confidence as his shield against people that might use it against him. Karasu is a great character, he embodies realistic traits that is both endearing and interesting.

He can love, despite how he looks down upon himself, Karasu seems to be the type to feel as if he isn't enough for his partner. For example, in the trivia, it mentions a girl named marisa, unlike other characters in blue lock, karasu doesn't forget those people that he has formed a connection with, or felt a form of attachment. I feel like anyone that would take a liking to him, they would hold a special place in his heart. This might stem from his underlying insecurity of feeling as though he is mediocre even if in the eyes of people he is not. He seems to be very particular about this topic, of being average or not so average, eventually making those who he sees as average feel as though the ARE indeed average, perhaps a way to shield himself from his own feeling of mediocrity.

How long would it take : for Karasu, just average. Perhaps 3 months or so. I don't see him being the type to just see others as fleeting relationships, especially if he's formed a connection with them. For him, he is afraid to be confronted in such a way that would expose him, but I don't see it hindering his concept of love and how he connects with people.

What conditions must be met :

1. Being his type would for sure make it more easier. I don't see him being with anyone the complete opposite of his type though, like his type is someone strong and smart. I feel like he might look past on some flaws but I don't see him going against what he really wants. If he ends up with a weak partner, who is not smart, it would be ironic.

2. His partner isn't someone that pokes at his defenses and or is cruel. Imagine a partner that would make fun of his feelings? Complete turn off.

In short, yes he can fall in love. It isn't unusual if he does, out of all characters in blue lock, he might be one of the few that wouldn't be ashamed to love someone wholeheartedly while still continuing in his goals.

Otoya Eita

Can they fall in love : This is tricky and maybe what people won't expect, but YES he can and always does. He is a player, that's for sure. But what people don't get is that he falls in love, but falls out of love quickly. Originally, I thought being a womaniser was his way of gaining validation with multiple women, maybe perhaps an underlying insecurity? But reading into his character more, Otoya embodies the concept "go with the flow"— for him, it's not that he feels like cheating Is unusual, he does it because for him, he feels like it and cant stay in one place.

For him, what makes him sad is being rejected. If you truly love someone, you would be upset if they rejected you. I feel like Otoya does fall in love. But sometimes, he mistakes "attraction" for "love" to which is why relationships doesn't last long for him.

When he has feelings, I see him jumping straight to action, with no regards or not seeing the need to start off slow and get to know eachother. And that's what makes his "cheating" a regular thing

For him, going with the flow means doing things however he likes and whenever he feels like it, which ends him with a relationship, and when he does, he eventually finds someone that "attracts" him again, and in the end he goes with the flow and ends up cheating just because of fleeting feelings and by the end of it, the cycle continues.

How long would it take : Not too long, I can't even give an estimation. Attraction would start off easy, give him a day, or even an hour. But falling in love. If serious, i can only give a generous estimation, it would be hard but depending on the person, within a week. But if he falls in love, I dont really see him staying in one place. He might stop his womanising only for a few days but goes back at it again.

What conditions must be met :

1. Doesn't really matter as his type always changes, so long as you see him, and he feels like you are it, he won't waste time

In short, he can, but I don't see him not cheating just because he loves someone, atleast until he falls inlove with someone else. But Otoya is a free and go along with the flow- type person. That's technically his personality and the way he is. I don't see him changing anytime soon.

Chigiri Hyoma

Can they fall in love : Absolutely. He can fall in love, and I can see it as well. Chigiri is someone that is described to be confident and driven. It is a canon fact that he used to look down on others, as well as being cocky, and having a flare of sassiness.

His type is someone calm and understanding. I can see how this is his type, because of how he tends to be; just as he stated "I can be quite intense" — for him, a partner that can ground him might be favorable. A partner that can balance him.

I can see him falling in love, and it would be quite a roller-coaster for both him and his love interest, he'd be the type of person that will calm down when his partner calms him down. To which is why I can envision him like that.

He is someone that really has no problem, in emotional terms. He has a supportive mother and older sister. I don't think falling in love would be out of the question. Chigiri knows what he wants, and is aware of how he is. So if he fell in love, he would be aware of it. And he would be the type to be forward with how he feels. So yes, he can fall in love

How long would it take : A normal estimate. 4 months might be more than enough, 3 months if the person really Impacts him. I don't see it taking so long for him. If someone really captures his attention, and he feels something for that person, he wouldn't cower behind feelings.

What conditions must be met for it to happen :

1. The person can balance him out. If he feels like that person would just go along with what he says and doesn't try to ground him, he would feel as though the relationship would be unbalanced. And he might not be able to depend on that person if ever the situation calls.

Not a lot of conditions. Because Chigiri is forward and is aware of how he feels, to which is why his conditions aren't as complicated as the others.

In short, absolutely. But he would be particular on who he wants to date or fall in love with.

Yukimiya Kenyu

Can they fall in love? : Yes, he can. Yukimiya can indeed fall in love, he is one of the most realistic people in blue lock. Someone that withholds traits commonly seen with people. He is also ranked highest on "who is a gentleman" which further proves my point. Yukimiya isn't that complex to understand, he has traits that is relatable as well as easy to grasp. He is also one of the most stable people in blue lock, well- atleast in comparison to emotionally unavailable and emotionally unstable people present in blue lock. His past really Impacts him greatly, and may be one of the few things in his life that he considers as a huge problem and burden to him as of now.

The possibility of his eyesight lost, weighs on him. Most people might put a stop to their aspirations for now if ever something like that happens to them, feeling dejected. But he chooses to still live how he wants to. He continues soccer even then.

Despite this, I don't see it stopping him from falling in love. In fact, yukimiya might be one of the few people in blue lock, along with karasu that wouldn't feel as though loving is a weakness. In fact, he might treasure it If it ever comes to him. As a model, he would gain lots of attention, but I feel like he wants a meaningful and pure relationship— not seeing the point in fleeting relationships. He would for sure be the type to treat his partner right if he ever gains one. And if he falls in love, he would take it seriously, and treasure that person.

How long would it take : 3 months, he is not unstable or unavailable, if he feels like he loves someone, he would love them hard. I cannot see him taking longer than normal, unless the person isn't someone he wants.

What conditions must be met for it to happen :

1. The are also in love with him, in a way he is in love with them.

2. He can see himself with that person, and he feels like they are the one.

In short, he can fall in love. It is not that complicated for him, he might have his eyesight as a huge problem for him, but it won't hinder his ability to fall in love. If that person is there for him every step of the way, he would fall in love for sure.

__________________________

Thank you so much for the ask, hope you enjoyed, mwah 🥰🤗

[grison-in-space]

One of my favorite teaching moments was the time that one of the students in my class (a Classics double major that had long since forgotten that anyone else in Genetics Lab might have humanities interests) snapped the opening lines to another student out in the middle of a play argument. I gasped at him, the other student demanded to know what the first had said, I provided my own translation ("I'll rape you in the ass and mouth, cockslut Aurelius and ass-hungry Marcus") and formally made the point that we do not say shit like this unless we expect to stand by our words when someone unexpectedly understands them. Then we got into a brief argument about whether irrumare is better translated as "to skullfuck" or "to rape one's face" and a much longer discussion about the way that toxic masculinity relates to homosexuality and prescriptive sexual behavior.

For the record, what aetherograph is referring to is actually the Roman verb irrumare itself. It is a violent word, and while all the folks above are right that Romans and Greeks alike had a lot of moral panic surrounding men being the receiving partner of penetrative sex, irrumare is specifically more threatening and insulting than, say, pedicare: you're specifically muting the person and potentially blocking their airways here, making them even more vulnerable. It also implies very strongly that the penetrating person is controlling the movement: this is not a verb that can be translated synonymously to "blowing" a person, for example. The word means to forcibly fuck a person's mouth, an act so degrading that it is beyond imagination that an upstanding man would or could tolerate it without being forced.

These are Bad Words to a Roman, and I think translations should incorporate that as well as trying to convey the violence of the words. I really don't like translations that try to downplay the extent to which Catullus 16 is a very, very vivid rape threat in response to (inferred) loss of masculine status on account of spending too much time and attention with female lovers. I think there is a tendency to be delighted by profanity and obscenity themselves in the hallowed halls of literature, and certainly this is one hell of an ancient Italian poetic tradition that continues well into the modern day. But I also think that obscenity and poetry both exist to turn strong feelings into meaning, and I think Catullus' poetry is most powerful and effective when we stop thinking about how naughtily he was saying something and start thinking about what exactly he was saying as he did it.

Catullus certainly is one of the Roman poets that fucked, but Catullus 16 is not a romantic poem but a violent one. (This isn't that uncommon for Catullus, who writes vividly about sex, emotion, and violence as recurring themes and can be almost as aggressive to women as to men. One of his other famous ones, Catullus 11, involves him feeling spurned by a lover and declaring that his friends Furius and Aurelius should go tell her that he says he hopes she's happy with all her many suitors, her three hundred lovers, none of which she truly touches despite the rupture of their thighs; another (Catullus 58) has him complaining that his lover whom he was so attached to is off lying in the back alleys fucking all the "grandsons of Remus," AKA any Roman who shows up and hikes up his tunic.) He was also very capable of mushy sweetness! But the anger is always there lurking beneath the surface.

He was a complicated guy. His poetry is constructed in careful layers of meaning around astonishingly raw emotions, glittering and artistic to behold. He was absolutely a man of his own time and place, which makes him translator catnip. But that time and place was Imperial Rome, and translators ought to work to communicate exactly what sort of place Rome could be, too.

you cant even begin poems with "i will sodomise and facef uck you" anymore. because of woke .

[salty-autistic-writer]

"Oh. You got a cat," Buck says, surprised.

"Three. I got three cats," Tommy clarifies with a weak chuckle. "This is Bella. She's the only one of the bunch brave enough to greet strangers."

"Wow," Buck says, hoping it doesn't show on his face that the stranger stings a little. He crouches to pet the black cat sniffing his shoes and looking up at him with golden eyes. "Hi, Bella."

Bella allows him to stroke her back once, and then she retreats, walking back into the house slowly, with her tail raised.

Buck straightens and clears his throat. "So ... three cats huh?"

"Yeah."

"Can I see the other two?"

Buck knows he shouldn't. He came here to give Tommy some of the stuff he left at the loft. Clothes (that smell unbearably much like Tommy). A toothbrush. A book about helicopters (that makes Buck's stomach clench whenever he looks at it). He came here to give Tommy his stuff and ... and maybe ask if Tommy has something from Buck too. And then he would leave.

But Tommy says, "Sure, come in! You want a beer? Or coffee? I have some cake in the fridge too."

Buck follows Tommy inside, closing the door. "Uh, thanks. A ... a beer would be nice."

He looks around, seeing subtle changes. Bowls with water for the cats. Toys lying around on the floor. A cat tree in the corner. Bella is lounging on a pillow on the couch, watching them with her attentive eyes.

"Her brothers are probably hiding," Tommy says, glancing at Buck. "They are shy. All three of them come from a farm and ... Well. They didn't have good experiences with humans. But ... If you stay for a while, they might come out and say hello."

Buck nods. "Okay," he says, sitting on the couch and smiling at Bella. Tommy gets them two beers and sits down as well. In a moment of silence, Buck finally dares to look at Tommy. To really look at him. Again, he sees changes. Tommy is leaner. He lost weight. His hair is longer too. And he has a beard now.

For a long moment, Buck knows exactly what he wants to say but he can't. Why didn't you text me sooner? Were you in pain too? Did you dream about me too? Did you wonder if you would ever feel whole again too?

"Sorry," Tommy says. "There's cat hair everywhere." His eyes are on Buck's jeans. And yes, they are already covered in cat hair.

"I don't mind," Buck says with a shrug. "So you .. saved them?"

"A colleague asked me if I would take them. And I said yes. To be completely honest with you, they saved me more than I saved them. They kept me sane. I had to take care of them. That distracted me from how I sometimes didn't want to take care of me," Tommy admits. And looks almost startled. As if he just realised he said too much.

Buck swallows. "I had baking to keep me sane," he says with a weak smile. "I moved from bread and cake to brownies to cookies to scones. Eddie claims there's a flour shortage because of me now."

"Wow. Interesting coping strategies," Tommy says, raising a brow and taking another sip of his beer.

Buck suddenly spots an orange cat peeking at him with wide green eyes from behind one of Tommy's plants. "Someone is watching me. In a very sceptic way," he says with a chuckle.

"Ah. That's Ron," Tommy says, his eyes brightening. "He's brave today."

Buck smiles. "Maybe he'll come and let me pet him. If I stay a little longer."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, looking at Buck with a small smile. "Maybe."

(AO3 Link)

[avelera]

Was wondering if you had any theories about Viktor's childhood experiences and how exactly that shapes his politics?

I agree that Viktor is largely apolitical and pacifist, and I'm getting the sense that perhaps he believes politics/the council is incapable of solving the issues. After all, they haven't so far, and Viktor does respect Heimerdinger, so rather than Heimerdinger choosing to look away, Viktor perhaps believes it is impossible to solve the problems in the undercity through the council.

When I first watched season 1, I truly had no clue how they were going to be able to resolve the political conflict. The council kind of sucks, but so does Silco, and I don't think Ekko was powerful enough to fully take over.

I can picture Viktor also having no clue. He refuses to make weapons because he knows they'll be used against innocent people in the undercity (and I think he's also opposed to violence as a solution in general), but at this point he doesn't have an alternative solution. He refuses to side with the council, but he doesn't have an alternative. I doubt he even knows Silco is in charge or that he's someone they might negotiate with at this point (I think the council only learns about Silco when Caitlyn returns), so instead he chooses to stay out of it.

And with his cult, I'm getting the sense Viktor still had no clue how to end the conflict between Zaun and Piltover, so he doesn't try, but instead tries to create a safe place for people who, like him, want to escape the violence. It obviously doesn't work out the way he intends, but I do think that was the idea, and perhaps he hoped because of the remote location and his peaceful seperation from society, no one would really bother him. And when they do, he concludes mass hive mind is the only answer to the violence (because he still had no clue how to resolve any of these conflicts)

And all this gives me the idea that Viktor really is desperate to escape that violence, and makes me wonder what he lived through during his time in the undercity that inspires his actions, since we know so little apart from the time he met Singed.

This got a little long, sorry about that, but wondering what theories you had.

I think there's a core assumption to the question that I'd like to isolate out in the hopes it helps me explain how I see Viktor's views.

There's an assumption inherent here that in political times, everyone must be political. But let me point out, most people are not. All you need to do is look at voting turnout numbers to see most people are not political, especially not at the local level where direct action happens. When was the last time anyone reading this voted in their local, municipal election? Do you even know when the next one is?

Now let me add another aspect to this: Piltover is not a democracy. It is by definition an oligarchy, in which power is held in the hands of a small, elite group.

So, in such a world, why would anyone like Viktor think it's even possible for an individual to impact politics? Which is why I think Viktor always saw the only way of impacting the world for the better as being through where his own gifts lay: in science.

But I do think it's more complicated than that. And I want to take the chance to further explore the political landscape as Viktor would have seen it throughout Arcane and why that would be enough to make him take zero interest in politics and have zero hope for its efficacy at solving the problems he wants to solve for people, and that he wants to solve for people regardless of their political background or national identity, because Viktor is shown to be colorblind when it comes to those concepts.

As far as we can tell, the only people with political power in Piltover are the 7 Councilor. The major Houses have some influence, but that's it. Minor Houses, like House Talis, can't even trade upon their meager levels of influence in their own son's trial. Ximena, the presumed matriarch of House Talis in the absence of any extended family for Jaye being shown, has to trade on sentiment. That's how little political power is spread around.

One thing that Vander and Silco were almost certainly pushing for in their protest at the bridge was for "Zaun" to have a political voice at all. This effort was ruthlessly quashed. The undercity doesn't have a representative on the Council, they don't have any Houses, they are effectively voiceless except through riots and protests.

And, as they say, those who make peaceful revolution impossible make violent revolution inevitable.

Furthermore, organized crime tends to spring up and flourish in places that don't have a law of their own, or a law that common people can rely on. See the Italian mafia in the US, which in part sprang up from the fact these communities needed to be self-governing and self-protecting because the official law of the land wouldn't protect them. But then, of course, the criminal forces that stepped into that power vacuum may gain wide acceptance for keeping the peace and providing other social services, but then in order to hold onto power, they're going to prevent the actual authorities from stepping into their territory. Once they have a hold there, there's no elections either, there's no way to cast out a malfunctioning organized crime unit that's providing those social services.

This is more or less what I think happened with Silco. He stepped in and created a society in the undercity, one that he was able to run because Piltover turned its attention outward with the Hexgates, it no longer needed to rely on the labor of the underclasses in the undercity so they left them to their own devices.

But Silco's government was corrupt. I think that gets lost in a lot of Zaun vs. Piltover debates. Silco's Zaun was just as much an oligarchy as Piltover, they had their own Council with the chem-barons who are directly paralleled in the "Sucker" sequence in 2.02. There is no "Piltover is better" or "Zaun is better" they are both corrupt.

Where in the world would Viktor get the idea that the solution to the political problems between Zaun and Piltover would be solved by handing more political power to people like Silco? Why in the world would he reach the conclusion that two oligarchies would be the solution?

And even in such a world where maybe, self-governance would help some people in the undercity, why in the world would Viktor believe he would personally be able to make that happen?

In a society with no democracy, when the one attempt to gain a voice for the undercity was ruthlessly quashed most likely while Viktor was still a student in the Academy, where in the world where Viktor have developed a sense that he could have impact on politics or wouldn't simply die in the attempt if he joined a political movement, thus improving nothing? And if you can't buy into politics in any meaningful way, why pay attention to it?

Viktor has found his keys to the kingdom in science. He has one avenue to excellence, which is solving the material difficulties facing the undercity like cleaning up the air and making the labor there less backbreaking and difficult. He has a narrow focus. Indeed, one of his flaws is that it's kind of "his way or the highway" he doesn't appear to even seriously entertain other avenues besides science for improving lives in the undercity.

This is particularly interesting because he was an assistant to Heimerdinger, albeit in his role as Dean of the Academy I believe. Yet Viktor doesn't see Jayce's role as a Councilor as an avenue towards meaningful change, why?

I genuinely can only speculate there. Why doesn't Viktor ever try to advocate for the undercity when he has access to Heimerdinger? Or, as two scientists, do both just see it as the role of science to better lives down there, rather than political action? Heimerdinger does seem remarkably politically disinterested for someone who is the nominal head of the government. All the wheeling and dealing happens behind his back. Perhaps Viktor is just as oblivious, who knows? Maybe Viktor's lack of political interest is what made Heimerdinger like him enough to employ him as his assistant in the first place.

Now to further answer your question, I'd say Viktor isn't even trying to politically solve anything because it's unthinkable that he would be able to. That's why the undercity independence play I think makes him cautiously optimistic, if you see his face during the vote right before the rocket hits. He never really thought politics could solve this but maybe it can. Maybe the key is to just let the undercity go its own way. I'd argue Viktor seems a bit skeptical when he announces that Jayce brokered a peace with Silco, I don't think Viktor likes Silco, or likes the idea of handing the reins of power to him. But he does appear optimistic when the vote begins to go that way, in I would argue is one of the rare positive political moments for Viktor (the only other that I can think of is when he speaks favorably of Vander's vision for Zaun).

Then the rocket hits, which must be a gut punch of further disillusionment. It's not just Piltover that's preventing Zaun's independence, it's Zaun, it's the cycle of violence, it's the fact that the conflict has gone on for so long and is so ugly that a solution is no longer possible without more bloodshed.

This inevitable bloodshed includes Jinx and Cait's forces wiping out the remaining chem barons, thus in my opinion making the conflict a moot point, because there's no one on the other side to negotiate with anymore. There is no potential Zaun government anymore if there's no one to hand power to, there's no democracy to set up (not in Piltover either, so there's no example of one). Zaun dies with Silco and goes back to being the undercity, an impoverished community within Piltover. Its Shimmer economy dies, which was the only technology that gave it a prayer of competing with Piltover on the battlefield too.

Quick aside, I get that people are mad there isn't more Zaun vs. Piltover in S2, but that's already dead as a conflict in 2.03. Zaun gets decimated as a political player. It has no leadership, no weapons, nothing that allows it to act as an independent state anymore. Piltover won and it did so because Jinx's rocket gave them the motivation they needed to cut off the head of the snake, the snake Jayce was willing to negotiate with to give them their independence.

That's gone now. There is no Zaun. There's no one to give power to. There's no military, no forces, no money. It is not a state anymore. Sevika is trying to rally the various disaffected factions in 2.04 and even that is slow going because of the old internal hatreds. And even if everyone did rally, all Sevika is hoping for is to make enough of a cohesive Zaunite identity to be able to bring grievances to Piltover. She can't even organize that. Zaun doesn't have an identity anymore in 2.04, and not enough internal organization to begin to form anything resembles a town council let alone the government of a nation.

So in that backdrop, where in the world would Viktor have any notion that he can impact events with politics? Or any desire to when the most promising political hope Zaun had, which he had a hand in, was destroyed the second it arrived by a Zaunite who didn't want the deal? This is a difficult, intractable problem.

Of course Viktor would see the best way to "solve" this problem is to not engage with it at all. It's to sidestep it entirely. Go back down to the individual level, help those in need, give them a place away from conflict in which to flourish and live peaceful lives. He essentially starts a monastery during the political Dark Ages of the collapse of order in the undercity, a very natural human response.

Then, he decides the best way to solve this problem is just to stop it. Get everyone on the same side, even if it's into a hivemind. That's why he's willing to take poor shimmer addicts from Zaun like Huck and rich Councilors like Salo from Piltover.

I also think his view is informed by his parallels in the real world in that he's apolitical because he's a scientist, and to a scientist all these lines of caste and creed and nation are meaningless on a biological level, we are all people. That's how I think Viktor sees it. It's part of why I think too, somewhat speculatively, that Viktor only talks about being from the undercity as a place of origin for him, not as an identity, because I think he thinks all such identities are nonsense, they're missing the point of the general advance of humanity, something many scientists around the world feel. I'm more quick to ascribe an attitude I see amongst scientists, engineers, and astronauts to Viktor than I am to ascribe a political identity to him. I don't think he sees political identities are relevant.

For example, besides noting Jayce's privilege when they first meet, he never denounces Jayce as being from Piltover or sees it as a barrier to them working together. He never singles out details of Jayce's identity by birth as being relevant. Because such details are meaningless in science. He only even brings up Jayce's background, I think, the one time when they first meet to point out to Jayce that while he has lost the benefits of his patron and House Talis name, there's still a path forward for him, the one Viktor started with. He mentions it as a reason that Jayce doesn't need to commit suicide when he loses those things. But he doesn't blame Jayce for having them.

At no point, even when Jayce is othering the people of the undercity, does Viktor other him right back as being from Piltover. In my view, Viktor's response is actually, "Hey, a member of your in-group is also from the undercity, stop framing everyone from there as outgroup/other, you know better than this." And Jayce immediately acknowledges that Viktor is right. They are immediately back on the same page that political identity lines are meaningless when it comes to improving lives (aside, real world people who play identity politics do realize we're all aiming for a world where everyone can flourish regardless of their identity, right??).

However, he does admire those like Vander who imagined a peaceful end to the conflict by establishing a nation of Zaun, however it should be noted, I think Viktor saw Vander's effort as inspiring but tragically doomed to failure. Hence, the need for Glorious Evolution, when the most well-intention dreams have no hope of ever happening. Seeing people like Vander fail is part of the disillusionment that makes Viktor further decide to disregard and supersede all politics through his own scientifically endowed magical power.

So anyway I hope this very long, involved essay helps explain a bit better how I view Viktor's politics, specifically his lack of them.

Edit: I just realized you also asked about Viktor's childhood. I have less to say there because we know so little but I would add:

Viktor was othered by people in the undercity as well as people from Piltover. I think that would lend to his view that people are just people, there are no real lines of politics or point of origin that matter. People will isolate him for his disability in both. No one is better than anyone else. It's just that people in Piltover by and large have more resources than those in the undercity, but both will look down on someone like him and avoid him.

You also have the fact that Viktor emigrated to Piltover presumably while still fairly young, either a teen or a young man, one would guess, based on his intellectual ability. I don't think he inherently sees the two cities as being separate, more like just two different areas of town, one of which is disadvantaged. Like moving from a poor neighborhood in Brooklyn to Manhattan. If Brooklyn began to lobby to become its own city or state, separate from Manhattan, some would see that as a good thing from self-governance perspective, others might see it as nonsense, which is where I think Viktor would mostly fall, but more importantly, I don't think he has faith that Brooklyn and Manhattan becoming separate states would really solve anything that matters, when the issues are things like air filtration systems, which can be solved with science.

As for things like, did young Viktor face violence? I think if he did, it would just add to his sense that a lack of resources breeds violence and the undercity needs prosperity to flourish, prosperity brought by scientific innovation. Politics again isn't going to solve these problems.

And I would finally add, Viktor found success and a sense of belonging in Piltover. I don't think he's as down on the place as people make him out to be sometimes. Jayce is from Piltover. Heimerdinger is too, these are two people who accepted Viktor and arguably who have loved him. I think as a result, Viktor would just see Piltover and the undercity as two places of origin within one city, a city he belongs to and wants to help improve by focusing on those in need.