#LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU EXPECTING AND HOW DID HE EVEN GET AWAY WITH THIS? LIKE WHAT???

[temiizpalace]

☆┊THE POCKY GAME

SUMMARY: playing the pocky game with your crush!

CHARACTERS: all dorms (-ortho)

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: cursing, suggestive? not really tho

NOTES: happy pocky day!! I think this game is actually really cute teehee. what’s ur guys favorite pocky? (mines the chocolate or matcha one 🙏🙏)

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

GOES IN FLUSTERED, COMES OUT CONFIDENT

you caught him so off guard. he was just minding his own business, doing his thing, then suddenly you hit him with a game like this? really are you trying to kill him, prefect? does this count as a confession?? he feels hot, is his face red? he didn’t even know pocky day existed!

despite his internal panicking, how could he possibly say no to you? placing the biscuit between his lips, letting you have the chocolate side (or whatever flavor u want) like the gentleman he is. slowly, bite by bite his face inches closer to yours. his heart is killing him, but he doesn’t dare to lose. finally reaching to the midsection, his lips find yours, sharing a small sweet kiss before pulling away.

that was much more fun than he thought it’d be. how about another round?

riddle, trey, jack, kalim, silver, malleus

GOES IN CONFIDENT, COMES OUT A LOSER

he was so smug when you asked. say less prefect! he’ll play the game with you since you’re so desperate!

then suddenly he gets second thoughts once you both begin to bite down on the biscuit. little by little, the proximity between you two began to close, his heartbeat racing at the speed of light. thump thump thump. he could barely control his breathing and his palms were beginning to grow sweaty. by the time you’ve expected a kiss, he pulled away, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed.

his cheeks were burning hot and there was a discerning look on his face that screamed flustered. with all the talk he had before, maybe this reaction was better than the anticipated kiss. but where’s the fun in that? you pull out another pocky stick, putting it between your lips for a second time with a devilish grin. you’re killing him, prefect.

ace, cater, ruggie, epel, sebek

A LOSER

had to think long and hard about playing. not cause he didn’t want to, but because he knows he’s going to humiliate himself in front of you.

so how did he find himself standing in front of you, with a pocky in his mouth, inching closer and closer to your face after each passing second? this. is. bad. he’s actually going to fail and look like a godforsaken fool. is his face red? it’s red isn’t it? he should’ve known better. not even halfway, he backs up, covering the lower half of his face with his hand.

please forgive him, but he might just DIE and EXPLODE if he hadn’t done what he just did. it’s not just about his safety, it’s about yours too. please don’t tease him he’s already so embarrassed for being a wimp.

he’s already weak in the knees just being beside you, kissing you would be a whole nother story.

deuce, azul, idia

A FUCKING TEASE

another smug one. except this one has plans to win and actually stick to it. rather than just standing in front of you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. you hesitate for a moment, taken aback by his bold actions.

the game grew intense, his eyes staring daggers into your own. you’re not even sure if he was blinking (he wasn’t). he took in your reaction, engraved it in the back of his mind, and plans to replay these moments like they were a cinematic masterpiece. just when you were about to pull away, his lips meet yours, sharing a breathtaking kiss.

your face was warm and wore an expression of shock. he loved it. ah, ah, ah, not so fast prefect. technically that was a tie! what’s a game without a winner? looks like another round is in order..

jade, jamil, rook, lilia

SOMEHOW A WORSE TEASE

pocky game? why would we want to do that when he could just do this?

cupping your cheek, he leans over and places a chaste kiss on your lips. it was a gentle kiss, contrasting with the way his hands traveled down to your waist, holding my you firmly in place. his eyes bored into you, enjoying your shock. he was smug. so smug. you could feel him smiling against your lips, leaning in closer and closer til you finally had the opportunity to push him away.

he only smirked in return, letting you go, grabbing a pocky and walking away as if nothing happened.

punch him. you wanted to punch him.

leona, jade, floyd, jamil, vil

A/N: jamil was self indulgent ngl

date published: 11/11/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[whytheylosttheirminds]

(wait why did this reblog go to drafts wtffff!!!!)

I loved this chapter SO much I’m trying to figure out how to explain it. I find Rafe’s pov really hard to write from because let’s be honest who knows what goes on in that head, but you did it so well I was so entranced the whole time! So many good one liners and imagery in each paragraph, here’s some of my faves…

Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect. To Rafe, that meant something. Everything.

Captured that dynamic so well, like he knows he wasn’t perfect but he wants the respect that he got and he can’t figure out how to command it so he pushes people away instead

He suddenly pushed himself away from the sink, and turned to face you, his blue eyes practically black with a hurt that was older and deeper than either of you could touch.

Oooooo this sentence was beautiful and I could feel the look in his eyes that’s powerful

“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”

“The words ugly in his mouth” why could I HEAR this line? So good

“Good. Because I stopped feeling sorry for you a long time ago,” you replied sharply, every syllable punctuated with weeks of resentment. “What I feel now? That’s just disappointment.”

If someone said this to me I would simply pass away….

You wondered if he’d put up a fight or if he’d just walked away,  giving in to his sister in that infuriating, self-pitying silence he’d perfected.

Ah yes there he issss

“I’m here. Whatever you need, however you need to do this—I’m here,” she promised, making sure you wouldn’t float away.

I’m obsessed with the imagery of “making sure you would float away” may we all be blessed to have a friend like this ❤️

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SIX

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care; drug and alcohol addiction;

Rafe had been clean for the past three years.

Over the course of the year, things between him and you had been smooth sailing. 

It was almost easy, something he wouldn’t have believed a few years back when everything he touched seemed to go up in flames. There’d been a time when he was just too much—angry, impulsive, doing all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons.

He’d been selfish, reckless, it was intense, way too intense, and when you fought, it was like you were both throwing grenades, just waiting to see who’d blow up first. You’d pushed him away, he’d pushed you harder, and you’d both crossed lines that should’ve never even been close.

Eventually, both of you learned to talk instead of shouting, learned when to back down instead of pushing buttons just to get a reaction. You’d gotten better at letting each other breathe. He’d pull back when he felt himself getting heated, and you’d do the same.

It wasn’t perfect; sometimes you’d still get into it, still end up in an argument that felt like old times, but it was different. There were no more lines on the bathroom counter, no disappearing at all hours. 

Until Ward died. 

Rafe didn’t know what the fuck to feel when he got the news. He knew what he was supposed to feel, right? He’d done it before with his mom, now it was his dad’s turn. The man who had raised him, the one to teach him everything he knew about how the world worked, even if it wasn’t pretty. 

Ward was a hard man, a strong man. The kind of guy who commanded respect, even if he didn’t always show it the way others might expect. But that’s the thing, he was a man of respect. 

To Rafe, that meant something. Everything. 

Ward had shaped him, he couldn’t just forget that, couldn’t act like that wasn’t important.

At first, you were there for him, no question. 

He knew you hated Ward, you barely tolerated the thought of him even existing in the same room as you. You spent those first few weeks with him, making sure he didn’t spiral back into the shit that nearly destroyed him. He needed the support, even if he didn’t always know how to ask for it.

You were there, holding it down. You got through it, the late-night talk, but then, you started getting distant.

At first, it was subtle—small things. He’d catch you looking at him like you didn’t quite get him anymore. You’d pull away when he needed you to listen, when he was ranting about Ward, and even though you tried to hide it, Rafe could see the dissociation.

He pretended he didn’t sense it, tried to tell himself you’d come around. 

After all, this was his grief, and no one else was going to understand it the way he did. His dad had been everything to him—maybe not in the way you thought he should’ve been, but that was just the reality of it.

For the first time in years, it felt like you weren’t there with him. It didn’t make sense to him how you couldn’t see it. 

Ward had been a tough guy, sure, cruel sometimes, but he was also a provider, a father who tried to teach him how to survive, even if it didn’t always come wrapped in the right way.

He wasn’t perfect, but he was the only father Rafe had ever known. He was gone all of a sudden and that was what had hurt the most—knowing he’d never get the approval he’d always been chasing, even when he was clean, even when he was doing better. There was no fixing that. 

He wanted to mourn in peace, but no one seemed to understand why Ward still mattered to him, not even Sarah.

Three weeks after the funeral he spent his days surrounded by a few bottles of scotch he’d stolen right out of his dad’s stash. Who was gonna stop him now, anyway? He almost laughed. Three years clean. Shit, that was something, wasn’t it?

He’d had people telling him he wouldn’t make it three weeks, let alone three years. Shit, his dad sure didn’t think he’d get this far. Only you.

Rafe squinted at the amber liquid swirling in his glass, then leaned back in the worn leather of his dad’s old armchair. It felt weird being in here, in his chair, in his office, breathing in that persistent smell of old cigars and varnish.

After the whole “funeral”, with everyone looking at him like he was a wild animal about to snap, this was the only place he could sit without someone judging him.

If you’re so clean, why are you drinking yourself half to death? He took a slow sip, letting it burn down his throat. 

It wasn’t like it used to be, that high that hit fast and hard, and didn’t care if it broke him apart.

This was different, a slower, quieter process.

Besides, he was in control this time. Just a drink, he told himself, fingers tightening around the glass. No powder, no pills. That was progress.

So what if he had to take the edge off? Who wouldn’t, if they’d just said goodbye to their only living parent and had to look at their younger sisters crying like that? 

He was practically swimming in alcohol. Rafe knew he was overdoing it, but he didn’t care.

Every time he saw himself— on a window, mirror, whatever—he had a drink in his hand, and something about it just felt terrifyingly right.

Grounded.

Nobody understood him; they just kept looking at him with that worried face, like he was on the verge of losing it like he used to when he was younger. Maybe he already had.

You watched him—really watched him—and yeah, he could tell you were pissed. He saw it in that little wrinkle between your eyebrows every time he took another sip. But you didn’t say anything. 

Even Wheezie was on his case in her quiet way.

She was hanging around, throwing out old jokes and trying to make him smile, but he barely reacted. She was looking at him like she was scared, as if he was some stranger she was trying not to set off. And he hated that—God, he fucking hated it. So he kept his distance, hoped she would back off, let him get through this his way.

But then came that night at the beach bonfire, when everything changed.

He probably shouldn’t have gone, but he needed to get out and feel normal again—even if that just implied showing up and pretending, he was fine. He dragged you along, flashing that cocky grin you could see right through, but you followed anyway, probably just to keep an eye on him. He could feel it—the way you were watching him, worried as hell, that just made him want another drink.

Half the people were staring, too. Waiting to see if he was gonna go off, if he was back to the same volatile Rafe he used to be, the one they loved watching spin out. And just when he thought he could ignore it, some random pogue, scruffy, half-drunk, threw out a comment loud enough for the whole group around him to hear.

“Guess Ward Cameron finally found some gold he couldn’t buy his way out of, huh? What was he thinking, running off to some country where people don’t just take bribes? Practically killed himself.”

It took everything in him not to lunge right there, but he was too plastered to keep the anger off his face. He pushed his way over to the guy, hands clenched into fists.

“You got something you want to say to my fuckin’ face?”

The guy shrugged, muttering something under his breath, people were looking now, everyone watching to see if he was finally going to give them a show.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was shoving him back, hard enough that the dude stumbled, beer splashing out of his cup. The crowd around them stirred, murmurs, but nobody did a thing—they were just staring, waiting to see the blood spill. He felt tempted to hurt someone, felt that cameron fury crawling up his throat.

It didn’t matter that he was twice as drunk as he should be; all that mattered was the way his father’s name was rolling off this nobody’s lips.

He felt you grab his arm, long nails digging hard enough to pull him back, he jerked his shoulder, trying to shake you off, but you weren’t letting go.

“You’re gonna waste your time on him?”

Rafe gritted his teeth, but you didn’t give him a chance to argue. You hauled him back, forcing him away from the guy, who was still standing there with that smug look plastered on his face. 

“Get out. Now,” you urged him, voice calm but with the tone that even he didn’t want to test. He glared at you, mouth opening to argue, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “Rafe. Now.”

You were mad at him.

It was enough to knock some sense into him, and he let you reel him away, but not before you turned back.

“And you,” you called out, enough to silence the chatter around you. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.” 

There was no bluff, no hesitation, and Rafe watched as the pogue’s smug expression dropped instantly, eyes widening as he realized you were dead serious, your family’s name always had an impact around town, old money and all.

As you dragged him to the car, he muttered that he didn’t need you playing bodyguard, but you ignored it, taking him out of the spotlight he hated but couldn’t seem to avoid.

His head was spinning, his blood boiling, and he couldn’t even look at you, not with how angry he felt.

By the time you pulled up to his house, you got out, guiding him inside with that hard, that silent determination he both hated and admired in you. 

You were there, right behind him with that look on your face—angry, disappointed, like he was missing something big, as if he was the one who didn’t get it.

He stumbled into the bathroom, holding himself against the sink, and before he could even catch his breath, you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in his face. He jerked back, sputtering, wiping it with the back of his hand. When he looked at you, his anger burned again.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped.

“My problem?” you scoffed head already shaking, “Are you serious?”

“You don’t get it,” he growled, barely controlling the rage, the shame—everything. “You don’t know a fuckin’ thing about him. I had the right to defend him.”

You took a step forward, finger pointed at your chest, “Don’t I? Because I remember standing in this very house, watching him tear you down every chance he got. You’re so busy mourning this man who treated you like shit, that you’re pushing the people who care about you away. It’s not just me. It’s everyone.”

Rafe laughed bitterly, the sound humorless. “Oh, here we go,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the sink, gripping the edge hard enough to make his knuckles turn white.

“Don’t you dare roll your fucking eyes at me,” you retaliated, stepping up beside him. “I stood by you through all of it, I’m not gonna stand here and watch you kill yourself because of him. He’s the reason you felt like you had to be so perfect all the time, why you’re always trying to prove yourself to people who don’t deserve it. And now he’s gone, and you still can’t see it. You’re still trying to be good enough for him!”

He didn’t look at you, didn’t want to see the indignation—or worse, the pity—in your eyes.

“Just stop,” he muttered, but you were past listening.

“No, I won’t stop. I can’t. I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself again. You’re better than this.”

He suddenly pushed himself away from the sink, and turned to face you, his blue eyes practically black with a hurt that was older and deeper than either of you could touch.

“You don’t get to stand there and tell me what I deserve.”

“I know what you deserve.” 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes again, though his face had gone a shade paler. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” he sneered. “Think you know what’s best for me? Get off your high horse.”

“You’re damn fucking right I know better than you do, I’m not the one who’s drowning every night in some pathetic tribute to a man who wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

He could feel it now, the bitterness you’d been hiding for weeks. It wasn’t just about him drinking himself stupid. It was everything—every fucking thing you’d been ignoring, it had festered between you two while you pretended things were okay.

“You’re the one who’s just tired of me, of everything that comes with me.”

You took a step back, eyes narrowing, but you didn’t flinch.

“What?” Your rage momentarily dialed down, the sound gurgling, “You think I’m tired of you? I’ve been here this whole time, trying to make you see the truth, but you won’t even look at me. You won’t let me in. You’re too fucking blind to notice.”

His breath was shaky, too fast, but he didn’t care. “So now I’m blind, huh? I didn’t see you sneaking out the door when I needed you? I didn’t notice how you pulled back, how you stopped giving a fuck about me? You’re just waiting for me to give you an excuse to leave.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t done.

“You don’t get it! I didn’t need you to fix me, I needed someone to stay. But instead, you—" His voice cracked, the anger choking him up, "Instead, you started to make me feel like I was a b-burden. Some mess you had to clean up. How am I supposed to deal with that, huh?"

You were shaking your head, your eyes had already been filled with tears, your chest suffocating.

“I’ve been here. I’ve been standing right next to you, waiting for you to pull your shit together. I didn’t walk away. You did.

His stomach churned, as if you’d taken every inch of space in his chest and twisted it, just for fun. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue with you. Not really. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, so obsessed with keeping everyone out, that he hadn’t even seen how far you’d already gone.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare try to make this about me,” he spat, the words ugly in his mouth, it felt like they were scraping their way out of him. “You don’t get to make me the villain in your story just because you’re tired of playing my fucking hero.”

“I’m not trying to play the hero!” you screamed, stepping closer, your eyes were cold. “I’m trying to help you see that you have to fix this. Not me. Not anyone else. But you. And if you’re so fucking broken you can’t see that, then maybe you really don’t need me.”

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Rafe could feel his heart racing, that agonizing coil in his chest, but he couldn’t stop.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, voice quieter, but just as venomous.

He turned his back on you, walking to the door. The sound of his boots clamped against the wood floor like a countdown.

“Maybe I don’t. Grab your shit and go.”

"Don’t you fucking—" you snarled, but he was already moving, grabbing your jacket off the hook by the door and throwing it your way, “You know what? Fine. Maybe I will.” You shoved that stupid thing on, hands shaking as you yanked the zipper up. “Don’t come running back in two days like you always do. Don’t come crawling back.”

Rafe paused, hand on the doorknob, his jaw clenched so hard you could see the muscle ticking.

He didn’t turn around, didn’t look back at you.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“Good. Because I stopped feeling sorry for you a long time ago,” you replied sharply, every syllable punctuated with weeks of resentment. “What I feel now? That’s just disappointment.”

You watched his shoulders lock up; his whole body wound so tight it was like he was one wrong look away from completely losing it. He didn’t turn around either, even as you slipped out the door, but he knew.

That was it.

Two moths later, almost three, he was standing in front of the ER pacing like a complete fucking idiot after you passed out in his arms earlier.

He’d told himself he’d stay away, make it easy for both of you. 

That shitty plan had gone down the drain once he saw you speed away at that party with absolutely no regard for your safety or Topper’s. He’d seen that wild look in your eyes before—the one that said you were about to burn it all down. Or when your dad’s gala came around, and he couldn’t sleep properly knowing he wasn’t going to be there that year, knowing how you spiraled every time you had to step on that stage.

He had stupidly thought that maybe, one day, you two could still be friends. But today? That shit blew up in his face, for the second time in the span of a week.

He forgot what you could invoke in him when you were standing merely an inch away. He promised himself that he’d moved on, forced to consider that the love of his life might not be someone he could spend his lifetime with. Maybe you weren’t meant for each other.

But how the fuck was he supposed to act when the girl who had been everything to him was hurting? 

No, no, no.

Sofia was what he needed.

Someone who didn’t know shit about his past, who didn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer. She hadn’t seen him the way you had, hadn’t been there through every drunken rant and punch he’d thrown at the wall or someone’s face, hadn’t heard him rail against his dad or drag himself back from one of his darkest nights. 

She hadn’t called him a fucking idiot when he chose to throw his father’s ashes on the ocean. She wasn’t going to call him a coward for it. She didn’t have a clue about any of it, and that was supposed to be what he wanted.

He looked up at the ER doors for the millionth time in the past hour, his fingers clenched around his jeep keys so tight they left marks on his hand.

It was over between you two. He’d make sure to keep the fucking distance, two whole months. If he didn’t give you enough closure, you’d hate him faster and you’d both get over it. 

So why the fuck was he about to set the whole hospital on fire as he watched John B’s beat up twinkie pull up to the parking area? It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. 

Of course you’d call her, his own sister—his father's favorite.

Sarah had always been the golden child, Ward’s little angel who could do no wrong, while he was the family screw-up. Even now, you’d picked her, just like Ward would have. 

He didn’t think before he moved, closing the distance between him them in seconds. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He barked right up in her face, daring her to explain herself.

Sarah didn’t back down, though. She just looked up at him with that same cool, level expression she always had whenever he tried to get a rise out of her. 

“I’m here because she called me.”

“She called you?” He scoffed, eyebrows pulling together in disbelief. “You? She called you?” He took a step closer, “So what, you’re her savior now or some shit? Why the hell would she call you if I’m right here?” His eyes narrowed, searching her face like he couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me?”

Sarah threw her hands up, a look of pure exasperation on her face.

“Are you dense, Rafe? You’re with someone else! Why would she want the guy who broke her heart to drive her home?”

He blinked, thrown off. “I broke her heart? She broke mine!” He laughed, but it was harsh, bitter. “I did us a favor. We were just—”

“Oh, right. A favor?” Sarah cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That why you’re pacing out here like a goddamn lunatic?”

“Go away. I’m driving her home.”

She stepped closer, her voice steely as she looked him dead in the eye.

“No. She called me, she wants me here. Not you. So do yourself a real favor and go home before you do something even more stupid.”

A breathless chuckle escaped his lips, “She already hates me, Sarah. What’s the fucking harm, huh?” He threw his arms out, as if daring her to come up with an answer that would hurt less. “What’s one more screw-up on top of everything else?”

“You’re real dumb if you believe that. But if you wanna make it worse, then by all means, go ahead. You’ll just prove her right.”

He stayed rooted in place, chest heaving, the conflict ripping him to pieces. His hands shook, his throat tight with words he couldn’t even begin to understand.

But Sarah had already turned her back on him, heading toward the entrance.

“Walk away,” she warned him, looking over her shoulder, “That’s the only thing left for you to do right now.”

Rafe didn’t know why the fuck he listened to her.

It was as if his body had already made that decision for him, understanding that if he didn’t leave right then, he’d end up doing something stupid—something even more fucked up than what he’d already done. His tongue was locked in place, a curse on the tip of his pursed lips, but it never came. 

His feet wouldn’t move, his hands stayed at his sides, and that tightness in his throat wouldn’t let him get a single word out, not one that would make any fucking sense. He hated that. Hated that you still had this kind of control over him.

Hated that he just…felt like something was wrong.

You hadn’t been this frantic, so impulsive since he had to take you home after your sister passed. He didn’t want to remember that night—you damn near threw yourself out of his truck.

But he couldn’t ignore the memory, the desperation on your face, the screams, the fight in his grip as he pulled you by your shirt back inside.

He’d felt like he was holding on to something breaking apart in his hands, something he couldn’t fix but couldn’t let go of either. He’d seen it again in your eyes when he’d caught you earlier at the beach clean-up, the way you’d tried to dodge his stare, voice cracking, legs wobbling when he mentioned the hospital. 

Rafe still felt like he’d swallowed shattered pieces of glass every time he thought about you. And if he could just push it down, if he could just get through one fucking day without looking back, maybe he’d start to forget you.

His feet were glued to the hospital pavement, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. If you were about to crash, if this was anything like before…He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do.

He had no reason to stay, you’d made it clear as day. He was supposed to be gone—out of your life for good. You’d told him you didn’t need him, he told you he didn’t need you. So why the hell was he still standing here? 

Perhaps because he remembered the last time he’d let you walk out, the way he’d watched you disappear, thinking he was doing the right thing—giving you the clean end you’d both needed.

Maybe that made him sick to his stomach now, thinking of you in there with Sarah, telling his sister things you wouldn’t say to him, letting her be the person he once was to you.

But you’d called her, not him. You’d picked Sarah to be here, and that hurt like a bitch, but it was what he’d asked for, wasn’t it?

This was what he deserved. He told you to grab your shit and go, forced you to leave because that was supposed to make it easier.

He’d impulsively made his choice the minute he’d wrapped his arm around Sofia, pulling her close in front of everyone who’d once known he was yours. He’d talked himself into it. It was the right call, moving on was the only way to finally get you out of his system. 

He was the one who decided it’d be easier to act like he forgot you than to actually try. He thought he could make it easy—pain-free.

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked back toward his Jeep. He gripped the door handle so hard he could break it in half if he wanted to, feeling his knuckles strain.

If he let go, if he closed that door and stormed inside, he’d just be right back where he started.

He stared at his reflection in the window, his hardened face staring back. His pulse was pounding in his temples, his gut twisting and turning as he tried to bury it all six feet under—the need to just go to you, to hold your hand or yell at you for making him care so fucking much.

He finally released the death grip he had on the door handle, forcing his fingers to relax, his knuckles still throbbing. He slid into the driver’s seat, the cold leather you’d help him choose, mocking at his skin as he slammed the door shut.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he threw the car into drive, the tires screeching as he peeled out of the parking lot.

He drove like he was being hunted down. He wanted to get as far away from that place as possible, praying the miles between him and you would stop the churning inside him. 

You’ll just prove her right.

He hated her for saying it, hated Sarah for knowing exactly what buttons to push. 

As he rounded a curve, his headlights swept across Topper’s house. Rafe cut the engine and stalked toward the backyard. Topper’s sprawled-out form on a reclining chair, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses somehow still on evenly.

He stomped up and smacked the end of his chair.

"Wake the fuck up."

He jolted, nearly tumbling off the chair, ripping his sunglasses off and squinting up at him. “Jesus fucking christ, dude, ever heard of calling ahead?”

But Rafe didn’t answer. He just paced, hands in his growing hair, digging into his scalp like he could rip the frustration out of his skull. Topper sighed, propping himself up on one elbow, he didn’t even look at him, just kept muttering to himself, biting his lip, pacing.

“What the hell happened?”

Finally, he stopped, “I need you to find out what’s wrong with your cousin,” he muttered, not wanting to admit he cared enough to ask.

Topper blinked, brow furrowing. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with her?”

Rafe only shook his head, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. “I don’t know, okay? She just…she’s acting off. And I can’t—I’m not supposed to care, Top. I’m not. I’m with Sofia now, alright? But she’s still…” His voice trailed off, as he scrubbed a hand down it.

Topper tilted his head, eyeing him knowingly.

“Right, yeah, whatever you say. I’ll figure it out.”

If Sarah Cameron didn’t walk through that hospital door within the next three minutes, you’d lose all the courage you’d summoned over the last hours. Or was it just an hour? You weren’t sure how long you’d been lying there, the IV needle taped uncomfortably into your arm. 

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket draped over you, and you wished—desperately—that you didn’t feel so…empty.

Ten minutes later, she strode in with a glance at the door, as if she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get there on time. The relief on her face when she saw you was reassuring but it only made the confusion in your chest heavier.

She was so different from Rafe, yet still looked so much like him. She sat in the chair by the bed, eyes scanning your face like she was trying to gauge just how bad it was.

“Hi.”

You swallowed, blinking up at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course,” She reached for your hand where it lay on top of the blanket, hesitating for a split second before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?” 

You felt a laugh bubble up, “Not even a little.”

She let out a small breath and nodded, squeezing your hand again. “I figured,” she said quietly, and you appreciated that she didn’t pretend to have some miracle answer, “I made him leave.”

She’d made him leave.

You could imagine his face distorted with anger.

You wondered if he’d put up a fight or if he’d just walked away,  giving in to his sister in that infuriating, self-pitying silence he’d perfected.

You weren’t going to ask, the less you knew, the better.

“Good.” You were relieved, but it felt bittersweet, “I didn’t want him here.” 

Except your voice shook, like it simply had to let her know you were lying.

You’d been telling yourself for so long that you didn’t need him—that you didn’t want him anywhere near you. But the second you pictured him there, waiting… God, you hated yourself.

Hated that tiny, pathetic part of you that still wanted him to care, even if it was just a sliver of anything that wasn’t anger or flat-out ignoring you.

“He threw a hissy fight, but don’t worry. He’s not coming back.”

You nodded, half in agreement, half in frustration, “He never listens.”

“Especially when it matters,” Sarah added, rolling her eyes. “I swear, sometimes I think he just likes to make things worse for himself. And everyone else.”

You recalled the sound of his footsteps trailing yours earlier, the way his hand had hovered near you when you swayed, the wild look on his face when you told him to back off. He had seemed…hurt. Like he wanted to fix something he’d already smashed to pieces.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

She respected that—she wouldn’t insist. There was a lot to unpack when it came to Rafe, but you didn’t need to go there right now. She could tell.

"Okay. Do you want to tell me why you called me and not Topper?”

There wasn’t any judgment in her tone—just plain curiosity, confusion. And you couldn’t blame her. If the roles were reversed, you’d be asking the same thing.

You had to bite your lips to avoid crying for the hundredth time that day. You hadn’t planned on telling someone the biggest secret of your life in a public space, or after nearly having a mental breakdown.

Not like this, with the IV in your arm.

"I—" you started, the words tangled in your throat. "I don't trust him," you admitted quietly, "I don’t trust him with this.”

This.

You turned your head to look out the window, the late afternoon light pouring through the blinds, but it never touched the void you felt inside. 

“He’s too close. He wouldn’t get it. I needed someone who could just… not be involved, you know? I mean—You’re still his sister but—”

Sarah’s already frowning, interrupting your pitying party, “Sweet girl, you don’t have to explain your reasons to me. I’m listening either way. I don’t know what’s going on, but I get it, I understand why you’d want to keep him out of this.”

“You’re the only one I can trust to keep this a secret,” you confessed, “If anyone finds out—if Rafe finds out—it’s over. I’m not ready for that.”

A shadow crossed Sarah’s face, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t ask questions about what you meant—about how Rafe had ruined things before. She didn’t need to. 

“I won’t tell him,” Sarah promised, her grip tightening on your skin. “It’s safe with me. I’ve got your back.”

You closed your eyes, breathing out slowly.

This was hard, harder than anything you’d ever done before, and that was saying something considering all the shit you went through when your family died. She had no idea what you were about to say, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it would change everything between you—between you and her, and you and everyone else.

"Sara, I—" The truth choked you once more, cutting you off. You couldn’t breathe.

Your chest felt vacant, something was missing, something that you didn’t know how to fix, but you had to say it. It was the only way out.

“Are you—" she started to ask, but you quickly shook your head. You could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"Just… just let me tell you,” You begged, pushing the words out before you lost them. “I-I’m pregnant,” you finally blurted out, as if confessing it all at once could make it easier.

But it didn’t. 

You didn’t dare look at Sarah right away. 

Your eyes were stuck on the ceiling, blinking rapidly, you didn’t need her to see how much this was breaking you or how terrified you were. You could feel her eyes on you now, and your hand clenched around the blanket, your knuckles white from the lack of circulation. 

Then, slowly, Sarah squeezed your hand again, she was giving you a moment to breathe, even though you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

“Rafe’s?” she asked quietly, confirming what you already knew she understood.

You nodded, not needing to say it aloud; she could sense the truth in the way your chest hitched, how you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her eyes.

“God,” Sarah breathed out, "And you... you want to...?"

You nodded again. She wasn’t asking if you were sure; you could hear it in the hesitation of her question. She was asking if you were ready to make the choice.

“I don’t want this,” you choked out, the tears finally breaking free. “I can’t have it, Sarah. I can’t. I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure I even know what I want anymore," you spit the doubt out with the brokenness you felt, wiping the traitorous tear that traced down your cheek. "I don’t know what to do."

“I’m here. Whatever you need, however you need to do this—I’m here,” she promised, making sure you wouldn’t float away.

“I can’t… I just… I don’t want him to find out,” you managed between shallow breaths. “If he knew, he’d… I don’t know what he’d do. Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want him to look at me like… like he owns me something.”

Sarah nodded, not a hint of judgment on her face, “He won’t know a thing from me, I swear. He’ll never have any say in this, not unless you want him to. This is your choice, no one else’s.”

You didn’t know you’d been holding your breath, but it came out all at once in a shaky exhale.

“Thank you. I just… I didn’t know who else I could ask.”

“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle. “This? This is exactly what I’m here for. I’ve got you, no matter what.”

The empathy there, the way she held space for all your broken pieces.

“New Mexico’s clinic rules… they won’t let me go through with it alone. They said I need someone with me.” You took a shaky breath. “I can’t imagine anyone else but you there, Sarah.”

“Then I’ll be there,” she said, without hesitation. “I’ll get the tickets, we’ll go together. And if you feel like breaking down, then break down, because you don’t have to keep any of this in anymore.”

Her words broke something in you that had been holding everything so tightly. The relief, the gratitude— “You’re really… You’d really do this for me?”

“Of course,” she murmured, pulling you close so your head rested against her shoulder, her fingers brushing through your hair soothingly. “Sweet girl, I’d do this a thousand times over.”

“I mean—he’s your brother. I don’t want to mess things up between you two even more.”

She sighed, giving a small, sad smile, almost like she’d been waiting for you to say that. “You think he’s my priority right now? Don’t you worry about me and him, we always figure it out. Trust me, I’m used to it.”

“He might hate me for this. And if he takes that out on you…” You couldn’t finish.

“Listen to me,” she sighed, “I’m here because I care about you. Rafe and I, we’ll always have our issues—he’s stubborn, and he thinks he has all the answers. But that’s our problem. He’ll never have a say over what I do or who I’m there for. Especially not with this.”

You swallowed hard, “I don’t want you to regret it.”

She gave a wry laugh, brushing a piece of hair back from your face. “You don’t have to protect me from him, remember? He’s my brother, yeah, I love him despite all our shit, but I’m not here for him right now. I’m here for you.”

“You’re sure?” you asked, the question a whisper, almost childlike. You were afraid of the answer, terrified she’d eventually pull away.

“Of course I’m sure,” she replied, tilting your chin so you’d meet her eyes. “Whatever’s going on with Rafe will figure itself out—But right now, you need someone who’s all in, no strings, no doubts. That’s me. You focus on you. I’ll handle him.”

You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, “I don’t think he loves me anymore,” you admitted, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear it, “I was so mean when your dad died.”

When you finally looked up, Sarah was watching you with a sad smile, one that made your heart hurt in both comfort and ache. “You really believe that?” she asked quietly, and you could hear the disbelief in her voice as if it was so obvious to her, something you couldn’t see.

You nodded, swallowing down the sting in your throat. “He doesn’t want me, not really. He’s…he pulled away. Like he’d rather hate me than be close to me. He’s with her.” 

The words tasted bitter, and made you want to hurt him twice as bad, but there was finally some relief in saying it out loud.

She sighed, looking down for a second, almost like she was thinking how to tell you something that hurt her to admit.

“I don’t think that’s the problem,” she murmured, with a knowing sadness. “I think the problem is that you two will never stop loving each other. He’s still hurting from dad’s passing, he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And you—you’re here, angry that he loved my dad so much, hurt that he left, trying to protect me from him, still worrying about me when you should be focusing on yourself. You’re scared he doesn’t care anymore, and he’s scared you don’t need him at all."

Your lips quivered, your heart about to leap out of your throat, your tongue darted out, briefly brushing your lips.

You weren’t sure you should say it out loud, but maybe you had to. “We’re better off without each other, aren’t we?”

“You’re allowed to be someone without him, and you’re allowed to find out who that is.”

You were slipping, falling back into that spiral of guilt and shame, the one that told you maybe this was all you were good for. Maybe Rafe was right to break things off, perhaps he’d realized that, in the end, you weren’t worth fighting for.

And shit, you hated yourself for still caring. For still wanting him to want you, even though you knew it was poison. Even though you knew that being with him, needing him, was only dragging you both down.

“Thank you.”

And as you sat there, in the stillness of that room, with the sunlight dimming outside, you felt that maybe someday you’d be able to trust yourself too. To believe that you were worth more than the heartache you’d come to accept as your own.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[papaya-twinks]

get over it! - l.n - p.2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mental breakdown, breaking glass.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - sorry this took so long, I was doing all Lando’s birthday ones x

parts 🧡

Time Skip - Formula One Baku Grand Prix Pre-Race

Baku had always been a city of contrasts—historical yet modern, chaotic yet beautiful. And today, it felt like the perfect reflection of Lando's mood as he walked down the paddock, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, jaw clenched tight.

Since your little ‘incident’ with Lando at Qualifying, you’d made sure to steer well out of his way. You would rather not be blamed for his driving by Zak or Andrea anyhow. It did slightly piss off the mechanics on Lando’s side of the garage, however.

Your energy was something that helped a lot of them to keep going, and now you were steering clear of Lando’s while side of the garage. You hadn’t even noticed him sliding into Oscar’s garage, as you handed around drinks.

“Y/N,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder, your shoulders immediately raising defensively, your head turning away from, signalling your dislike in speaking to him. “Y/N," he pressed, this time with more urgency. "Can we talk?"

You shook your head, still not looking at him. "I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” you said simply, handing some of Oscar’s mechanics some drinks. "You’re avoiding me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can’t just walk away, not after what happened,” he said firmly.

“Yes I can, besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you to do so,” you said, placing your tray down, taking some new cups from the stack. “Some of my mechanics are pissed about you not being in the garage and stuff,” he mumbled, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, and they made you drag your ass here to ask?” you asked, a scoff on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes. “Sorry for asking you to do your own damn job,” he snapped, his voice filling with the frustration and bite from earlier.

“Let me do my fucking job, and stop talking to me, then,” you said, your voice with equally as much spite as you glared at him, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, walking past him, your chin held high - so what if he was a driver? He didn’t own you!

You’d had many fights with Lando, countless, some of them about such minor things, you almost laughed when you looked back at them. Of course, there was a time, even after the Sochi incident, where maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could have forgiven you.

But then again, it was Lando Norris. He’d do anything just to fuck shit up.

Flashback - 2021 Mexican Grand Prix

It had started innocently enough - a late-night discussion about his diet. He had asked you to double-check his hydration formula before heading to the gym. You’d pointed out that it didn’t seem balanced, that he'd been skipping meals. He’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But that was just the start. 

“Why do you always act like you know better?” he had snapped, voice low but cutting. “I’m the one racing out there. You’re just a helper,”. His words stung. You didn’t respond immediately, too shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. But when you did, your voice was tight with restraint.

“Just a helper?” you’d repeated, incredulous. “I’ve been working with you for years, Lando. Don’t act like I don’t know how to do my job,” you had said, your voice edged with a hint of shock and hurt. “You don’t work with me, Y/N, you’re not on my level, you won’t ever be on my level. You work for the team, at least get it right,”.

“You can’t just skip meals and expect your hydration to be perfect,” you had replied, a little more firmly. “Your body needs food to process all the fluids properly. If you’re running on empty, no amount of water is going to make a difference.”

“I’m fine,” Lando shot back immediately, his tone defensive. “I told you, I’m good. I just didn’t feel like eating. It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice becoming more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand what you were saying? And why did all your arguments have to be centred around water?

For a moment, it seemed like Lando was going to say something else, but instead, he crossed his arms, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t need a babysitter, Y/N. I’m not a child. I know how to do my job,” he had said, his eyes narrowed once more.

The words hit harder than they should have. You’d been working with him for quite a while, supporting him in every way you could, and this was the first time you felt like he didn’t appreciate it. “I never said you were,” you had said, your voice cold now, your patience worn thin.

“But when you start acting like a diva and skipping meals while I’m the one having to pick up the pieces, then yeah, maybe I do need to step in,” you said, your jaw set firmly and your eyes narrowed. Lando opened his mouth to retort, but you turned away before he could, your back to him as you grabbed your tablet from the table.

Your hands had been shaking with frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I don’t have time for this right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’ve got a hundred other things to do,” you moved to his door, only stopped by his voice.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke. “You think I’m just acting like a diva, huh?” he asked, his voice colder than you would have thought, sharp and almost like a snarl.

“Im not the one who fucking acts like I run the whole team off my own back - all you do is give water to people, Y/N, you’re useless!” he snapped, his voice raising as you flinched. “Useless? I’m not-,” you started, your own voice becoming louder.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You think, just coz a few people like you, that you’re the one managing this whole team? You don’t do shit, Y/N, you’re not important! People would be sad you left your day or two and forget about it, okay? You’d be replaced in an instant, you have no skill!”.

All of this. Over a water plan. “I…fuck you, Lando,” you said, your eyes brimming with tears, voice cracking as you stepped out the door, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed away from him,”

Present Time - Formula One Baku Grand Prix

Sure, you were pissed at Lando, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on the whole team, do, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself to Lando’s side of the garage to hand out refreshments, much to the relief of the mechanics and engineers.

Just imagining if Sochi had never happened in 2021, or you’d never said the comment that you’d said, it would’ve been some different, and you would’ve been cheering and going crazy with the team, watching Lando climb higher and higher from his low position.

You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Lando’s car, the stress of a potential championship fight that could be washed away due to one bad qualifying session, or the struggles of getting through to at least a points playing position, everyone was on edge.

Lando had a lot of positions to make up if he wanted to salvage his weekend, or at least begin to try and gain some points. And boy, did he make up positions. One after another, he passed car after car, refusing to let the mistake of qualifying 16th define his race. He was determined to prove himself.

As the race wore on, Lando's mood lifted. Every overtake, every clean pass, brought him closer to his goal. He had no idea what position he was in now—he was just racing, just pushing harder than he ever had. When the final laps came, he found himself fighting for 4th. And when he crossed the line, there it was: 4th place.

But all you could do was bury it deep inside of you and push Lando out of your mind - sometimes there were times when you wished you could have screamed and cheered with the team, like in Miami. But you had Oscar’s current winning margin to distract you from the hurt in the pit of your belly.

Time Skip - Post Race - Baku

The mechanics jostled round the garage, all talking, but slowly leaving, exiting the garage as the sky darkened, a pale shade of greyish-blue, a colour you found quite beautiful actually. Like a reflection of the ocean, in some ways.

“Why are you still here?” a voice snapped you from your train of thought, ruining what was otherwise quite a peaceful movement, your gaze forced sway from the clouds. “None of your business,” you scoffed, picking up your drinks tray from the side as Lando stared.

“I mean, kinda is,” he replied, his nose scrunched distastefully, like you were something or someone lower than him, which was how he perceived you anyways. “Everyone else has gone home,” he pointed out.

“Cheers Captain Obvious,” you said sarcastically, the glasses tinkling on your tray, some with lines of red wine at the bottom, beams of white from the lights above reflecting off the glass. “Whatever,” Lando said, his voice nearly a mumble as he dug he is hands into his pockets.

“Look, I’d appreciate if you stayed the fuck out of my way,” Lando said sarcastically, “I can’t stand your stupid presence,” he snapped, “there’s nothing to fucking be so happy about, I can’t have you annoyingly positive energy around all the time,”.

“Excuse me?” you said, not quite sure what to say after that little outburst of his came from. “You heard me, you’re stupidly positive and all you do is frolic around with that stupid little tray of yours,” Lando snapped, pushing the tray out of your hand, the plate clattering onto the floor, the glasses shattering at your feet.

“Lando, what the fuck is your issue?!” you half-screamed, scrambling away from the shards of glass scattered on the floor, cutting at the soles of your sneakers. “Just….fuck off, okay?!” he said, his curls a messy heap on his head, his eyes wild.

He looked on the verge of a full breakdown as you stared, in shock at the whole thing. He’d been fine a few seconds ago, what the hell had happened? “Lando, I didn’t-,” you started, raising your hands almost in surrender.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, Y/N!” he covered his ears, “Just fuck off!”. You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stumbled back, away from the glassy heap on the floor, and rushing away from the garage. You’d never seen Lando break down before.

Was he…Was he okay?

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐞

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲

cw : MDNI - S2 Armand, journalist male reader, top male reader, switch Armand, sub Daniel, dirty thoughts, mentions of sexual interactions, nsfw, Louis is definitely third wheeling, sexual tension, fake rashid reveal, mind fucking, teasing, this is my old man yaoi, somnophila, Armand gets the old man pass, they eye fucked eachother so much, i needed a taste of these two sorry, when no one can do the work, you gotta do it yourself, power play, stalking, Armand is a creepy little cat, Daniels the confused German shepherd, my drabbles become so thought out why, consume at your own risk, not proof read.

You knew it.

You fucking knew it the whole damn time.

At first it was just a guess, just a joking remark made as you worked with Molloy with Louis interview. You didn't believe him when he spoke of vampires, but seeing truly is believing, and Rashid was the oddest guy you'd met. That sweet smile, those longing looks towards Louis, the way he almost seemed to be acting—

Oh but you found that out really fucking fast.

Spoiler alert, you can see the plot twist from a mile away.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Jesus Christ, it was about damn time! How obvious do you have to be before someone finally outed you as a vampire?"

Daniel turned to you in a somewhat shocked fashion, though he was mostly squinting towards you for some sort of half assed explanation you were going to give him, but Louis put his expression into words. "You...You knew?"

"Yeah, but to be honest, he wasn't exactly doing the best job at hiding it. I mean, even if he was trying to, it was a little too on the nose at the beginning. Also, not saying Rashid is a bad name, but you definitely don't look like a Rashid." You then happened to gesture to Armand who was now standing side by side with Louis. You knew you'd promised Molloy that you would tone it down, that you would stay tamer than normal for the sake of getting out of Dubai in one piece after everything was said and done, but now there were two vampires rather than the one. "Not to mention how obvious you are."

"Pray tell, how obvious was I?" Armand asked. So far he'd spectated and predicted you were just as childish as Daniel when he was younger. With eccentric thoughts and an active imagination. That you were simply in over your head.

Oh how wrong he was.

"Well, for starters...it never seemed like you were similar to the other servants? I don't think I dare even saw you wear a mask before, whether that be to simply hide faces or to prevent anything from spreading, I found that odd." You chimed. "Not only that but we've seen Louis drink from you, and yet someone as...lanky, someone who looked like a stick ready to break — no offense — but you walked away like it was nothing, while a Russian biscuit the size of a bulk barely stood for two seconds before falling out.."

Only then did you gesture to the other room compared to the one you were currently in. "Not to mention, when we caught you praying the other day, you prayed in the darkest side of the room. Even if you did walk past the light, it was briefly or almost unseeable. And God, from the way every time I turned to you and watched you practically eye-fucking Molloy, I wouldn't have been shocked to know that you'd met him before."

Armand's expression was unreadable, almost repressing his feelings. Especially after the last observation you'd made. He stood next to Louis who squinted in a questionable fashion while looking at you, and Daniel? He didn't expect you to suddenly come out like that, and so boldly, though that was simply your personality.

"Now, if you three don't mind, I think I'll go to bed early. After this whole fucking soap opera of a reveal, I have to probably prepare myself to take in whenever you came into Louis life and what the hell happened then." You dismissed yourself, not back towards Daniel as you made your way out. That stare Armand had given you that entire time was unnerving, but there was something behind it.

You then called out as you proceeded to make your way to your room. "And I hope that there's an actual Rashid! Or I will be very disappointed!"

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

God when was the last time you and Daniel had a good fuck.

Before the trip to Dubai, the two of you had different lives, and as much as you loved smothering the older man, you had a job as well. It was unfortunate that you two couldn't have your fun till after the trip was over, but at least Daniel noticed how irritable you'd started to get. After all, you'd been stressed before the trip and didn't expect things to take this long.

You groaned out as your hips slowly rocked into the others, his warm body against your own and lips kissing feverishly against his skin. You knew that he was trying his best to sleep, but you couldn't help yourself.

Not as if he minded, he's the one who agreed the two of you could atleast sleep like this.

"Fuck Danny, baby..." You rutted your hips up accidentally, causing him to groan out and nudge you as red took over his face, cheeks, even spreading to his ears.

"Calm down, I have to sleep for later so we can continue the interview.." He could feel your arms practically caging him, holding against the plushness against part of his stomach. Daniel could barely think with how tired he was, and you? You were full of energy at the moment, sleepy, but still energized.

"But you're so tight Daniel...so fucking...oh—" You slowly grinded yourself against him once again before finally giving in as he wrapped a hand back to run though your hair. "Needed this, bad. Felt like I was having withdrawals."

"From sex?"

"From you," you admitted. "And this tight ass..."

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The next afternoon, you and Daniel went to the small cafe to fill up before the interview, though he'd been chewing you out about your past behavior. How he knew you were always a stickler for believing in superstition, but to understand that these vampires were nothing to fuck around with.

You could have refuted that with the amount of evidence you had that those fanged people were hornier than a dog humping a pillow.

You joked about it, as if it was your second nature, but Molloy seemed more stressed out than normal.

"You're gonna get yourself killed in there, you know what they are, why are you pushing things so far?" He sounded annoyed at that point, watching as you rolled your eyes and tried to dismiss his emotions towards the situation.

"Jesus Molloy, you act like the world is gonna end."

"Maybe not, but you have no idea who these guys are. You don't understand how dangerous they can be. How dangerous they are." He urged on.

You laughed and continued eating the raw fish that was on your plate. "Sure," you drew out.

It was then that he stared at you. Molloy stared at you with that look, the look you knew all too well. He continued staring you down before you sighed and gave in. "Fine! Damn it, I'll be good! I'll tone it down! I'll...I'll play this little game they're trying to get at. But I'm only doing it because you asked."

"Look, I just want us to get out of this in one piece." He urged on, now poking at his food, appetite diminished from the idea alone. "I dragged you into this mess, if you want to leave, you can."

"Damn it Daniel, you know you didn't drag me into this, I wanted to come. Turns out the vampire bullshit was real after all, but you're dumb as a box of rocks if you think I'm just gonna leave you here. I'm going nowhere." You let out a chuff of a chuckle before nudging Molloy, giving him a reassuring smirk. "And I know that Daniel Molloy sure as shit won't let anyone outsmart him like this."

"Alright cocky brat, I hear you. Just be careful. Armand looked like he's two seconds away from ripping your head off last time."

"Oh, Armand would have already if he had the balls to do so. If anything, I think the real threat in the room is you know who..." Finishing the rest of your dish after popping the last piece in your mouth, you now gave Daniel the knowing look.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"Fuck, Armand—no wonder Louis loves to fuck you in his free time." You panted, watching as the vampire squirmed below you. You held his waist with a bruising strength that would normally feel uncomfortable for any human. But you knew that the vampire was durable. Heating his moan and mewl as your hips slapped against his ass, back arching up into you like a needy cat in heat. You didn't let up either, slamming into his body with brute force behind every thrust.

It was only then that you heard the mix of Armand and Daniels voice, gray haired individual cursing out as he gripped tightly onto the pillow behind his head. His glasses were gone and his face was flushed red as your thrust urged Armand to thrust into him. The vampire turned his head, as if trying to steal a kiss from you, pouting even. But you ignored him, leaning over to press your lips again Daniel's as his eyes fluttered closed, lashes dotted with tears and a muffled cry leaving him as Armand rammed his hips, almost in a jealous fashion.

Your fingers then found themselves threaded in the vampire's hair, only to yank his head back while a cry escaped his drool soaked lips. "You listen to me and you listen to me good. You think..you're all hot shit for a vampire, but I really know what you really are — Armand," you hissed out against the shell of his ear, dipping your head down before biting directly against the side of his neck. Your canines dug down into his tender flesh — not enough force to pierce — but enough to bite down onto the muscle below, knowing the skin would blemish and bloom due to your brutish actions.

The feeling alone made him cry out, hips stuttering between both you and Daniel. It was only then that you heard Molloy let out a gutteral noise in retaliation.

"You're my bitch in heat, understand?"

As Louis continued his interview, retelling whatever he could recall while letting Daniel read Claudia's entries, you kept your mouth shut and kept your comments to a minimum — as promised. But your thoughts, they ran rampant as you keep eye contact with Armand, watching as his eyes pierced into your own soul while peering into your mind. You could see a shift in his face features, his shoulders tending up as your expression stayed unchanging like a statue.

"Sorry to cut you off, I'm gonna step to the bathroom if that's alright. Lunch doesn't feel like it's sitting well," you addressed those in the room as you moved your notebook out of your lap and onto the table. "You good being alone in here for a sec Danny boy?"

"I'll be fine — and don't call me that, Jesus..." He muttered, shaking his head and overall dismissing you as he saw the shit eating grin on your face.

"Just askin' is all. Last time I left, I came back to you slapping Louis. Still never got an explanation for that one..."

"I assure you, nothing will happen to Daniel while you're away," Louis assured, giving you a genuine look to try and persuade you.

"Whatever you say," you stated, not giving the other stoic vampire the time of day after. Not a glance back or a thought for him to breach. Instead you left and got into the bathroom before starting the sink and splashing water on your face.

Even as you tried your best to hide it or ignore it, you could feel you growing erection making into a tent against your jeans, especially at your own thoughts. You almost dazed out back there and didn't even notice, but you knew that you'd finally hit the mark with Armand. With the way he was staring you down, you wouldn't have been surprised if he confronted you about such things.

It wasn't until you looked up in the mirror that you saw those predatory eyes stalking you again. By the time you whipped around, you were almost slammed into the sink, grinning as Armand grabbed against your throat. There was no real strength behind it, just a placement.

"Pervert, snooping through my thoughts even though I'm pretty sure Louis said that doing such a thing was off limits."

"He did not say such a thing," he quickly addressed, sneering at the grin that stayed in your face. "Who are you to have such thoughts about myself."

"You didn't say much about it. But to mention you seemed like you were enjoying it yourself pretty boy..." Your hand felt against his own groin, your grin only widening at the erection he seemed to pull as well. Watching as he stiffened up again made your arousal flare and his eyes seemed to soften. It almost looked as if he was trying to stop a noise from coming out with how fast his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I know one thing, Armand. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something from me." Peeling his hand from your throat, you grabbed his face and pulled his closer. He did nothing to retaliate, almost melting at the semi rough gesture. "If you wanna be of any help while we still have time...I think you could put that mouth to good use."

To have Armand on his hands and knees? It was as if Christmas came early. But God, he looked absolutely divine as he slid down between your legs. You could only hope that Louis wouldn't mind sharing his immortal partner, Armand.

The vampire Armand?

More like Armand, your personal cockslut.

You could only wonder how fast he could be before one of the others came to look for the both of you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[mochiwonz]

✉ - won the boyfriend lottery ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : insecure fem!reader x sweet bf!ni-ki , FLUFF , skinship (hugging , kissing , hand holding etc) , cursing , petnames (nini , baby , my love etc) , reader loves the scent of vanilla , lots of lovee <33

𓍯𓂃 word count : 2.1k

𓍯𓂃 note : i really reallyy think that as much as ni-ki is playful and likes to tease ,, he would definitely be the most caring, gentle, and understanding boyfriend ever :3 i hope that atleast some of you can find this fic relatable (i know i can) and i hope you enjoyy ♡♡

You look in the mirror, you're wearing a fitted top and flared jeans. Complimenting the outfit, you're wearing bow earrings and pretty rings, and of course some cute makeup. You're supposed to be feeling all pretty and confident, right? But actually, you're feeling the exact opposite. It's like the longer you look at yourself, the uglier you get. Fuck, why is it so hard for you to feel pretty?

Giving up, you change back into your baggy basketball shorts and xl baggy tee.

You've always preferred baggier clothes because 1. they were more comfortable and 2. people don't pay attention to your body. One could say that you were quite insecure. You've never felt gorgeous, at most you've felt okay, average, or mediocre. You've always found something wrong with your face, your uneven eyes, the one bump that won't seem to go away, or your dark circles. You wonder how those pretty girls do it. How they just walk around flawlessly, wind blowing through their hair perfectly and their skin basically glowing. Gosh, you really hated how you looked and how insecure you were. You thought you could never be loved by someone, ever.

That was until your boyfriend, ni-ki appeared in your life, and you couldn't be more grateful. It was like the universe knew when you needed him the most and boom, there he was.

Of course, you were still very insecure, it was nothing compared to how you were one year ago. Ni-ki had always made it very clear that he understood you and that you were absolutely beautiful, even if you couldn't quite see it yet. Everytime you felt insecure, he could immediately tell and instantly went to comfort you. Everytime that you felt unsure about anything, he would reassure you. He made you feel understood and seen, something you hadn't felt since...well...ever. People would always tell you, "you don't need to be insecure" or "just stop being insecure" as if it was really that easy.

Fast forward to today, it was your guy's first anniversary as a couple. You still remember the day he confessed, you also remember being so confused. How did someone as beautiful and perfect as him end up being attracted to you?

To put it simply, you were the most gorgeous human being he had ever laid his eyes on. The first time that he laid his eyes on you in senior year of highschool, he knew that you were the one. He never expected such a beautiful girl to be so insecure, but that didn't matter to him. Everyone worried about something, your worry just happened to be your appearance and overall self. He understood. He truly did.

Anyways, you and ni-ki agreed on just going out to get his favorite gongcha milk tea and come back to your place to cuddle and watch an anime. You guys didn't care if it wasn't that "special", because all you really wanted to do was be in each other's presence.

You didn't wanted to be perceived as the hot boy's ugly girlfriend. That's why you were trying to dress up like the pretty girls you've seen on social media. We already know how it went, and now you're in baggy basketball shorts and a baggy tee.

What if ni-ki doesn't like it? What if he thinks you look bad today? Should you just put more effort and atleast try to look "good"?

"y/n, baby, you're so fucking gorgeous. you don't have to dress up and put on alot of makeup for me to find you beautiful. you could be bald and i'd still find you so gorgeous. and don't worry about what other people think of you, why does it matter at the end of the day?" you remember him telling you.

Right, ni-ki loves you for who you already are, and you try to remind yourself of that everyday. Of course, it's hard- but you're trying.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, you hear a knock on your door and a voice from outside. A very familiar voice, one that you could recognize literally anywhere.

"babyyy it's meee" ni-ki says from the other side of the door, and you already know he has the cutest smile on his face right now. He might be 6ft and all, but he's your giant baby.

"coming!!" you exclaim while excitedly running to the door, trying not to slip. Let's just say you've slipped a few times before.

Opening to the door, you're met with a smiling ni-ki. And wow- he looked so good. He was wearing an oversized black hoodie with some red designs on it and some baggy jeans. On top of that, he also had some silver rings and a silver chrome hearts necklace on and honestly, you were fighting the urge to lunge at him right now. God knows how you were controlling yourself.

He quickly brings you into his embrace, engulfing you in his warmth.

"my baby, i missed youuuu" he says in a sweet tone of voice, still hugging you. He was always so sweet to you, you truly think you won the boyfriend lottery.

You look up at him with hearts in your eyes. "i missed you too ki" you respond, talking in the same sweet tone of voice.

"here, wait- we should go inside, i still need to get ready" you tell him. He nods while intertwining your guy's hands and lets you drag him inside. To be honest, he didn't think you needed to get ready. You were always gorgeous in his eyes, no matter what you were doing.

You bring him into your bedroom, and he instantly smiles at the familiar scent of vanilla. Of course, he was very well aware of your love for vanilla. The way you had 4 different type of vanilla candles on your bedside table and so many different vanilla perfumes was so endearing to him. Quietly, he sits down on the edge of your bed and watches as you go to quickly grab some clothes. He quickly notices that these clothes aren't very you.

"baby, since when did you start wearing such fitted tops? i mean, don't get me wrong- i bet you'd look so good. but i'm just wondering" he asks curiously.

"oh," you say quietly "i just wanted to look pretty for you"

Ni-ki slightly frowns at your words. He wished you knew how effortlessly beautiful you already were. He gets up from your bed and walks towards you, wrapping his large arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. He makes eye contact with you through the mirror and pulls you closer to his chest.

"my love you always look so pretty. trust me. just wear whatever you're comfortable in, okay?" he tells you in a soft voice. He kisses the top of your head and smiles at you. God, he's so good at reassuring you. You're so in love with this man.

Feeling less pressured after hearing what he said, you put down the clothes and instead, put on one of the oversized hoodies that he lent you. Your favorite one actually, it smelt just like him. After putting it on, you have a comfortable smile on your face, visibly showing that you feel much better. Ni-ki notices the instant change in your energy, and he loves seeing you like this.

"my girl, you're so cuuteee i love you so much" he says while admiring you. He turns you around so that you're facing him and he just stares at you, admiring your beauty in all is glory. Getting shy, you bring your face down and bury it in his chest.

"nini i love you too my big baby" you tell him as you finally look back up at him and go on your tippy toes to give him a peck on the lips. You loved his pretty plump lips, he was really the most beautiful man ever. He giggles and pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. He loved you so so much.

"you're so beautiful" he says as he brushes your hair away from your face, "god i could stare at you forever my pretty girl"

You could already feel how hot and red your cheeks were, you always got like this because of him. He always said such nice things to you and always showered you in compliments, what did you do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend?

"i love you" you tell him while smiling "we should go to gongcha now though, they might be closing soon"

Ni-ki completely forgot about the boba, shit. Agreeing with you, he grabs your tote bag for you and opens the door for you.

"for you m'lady" he says playfully while bowing at you. You giggle and bow back at him, matching his playful energy. He finds you so adorable, and so he ruffles your hair and closes the door behind him.

He quickly intertwines your guy's hands and sways them back and forth. He was always so happy around you, your energy and presence just made him so happy.

Once you guys got back to your place, you decided that you wanted to have a skincare night. You might not be the best at makeup, but you loved your skincare. He, of course- found you so adorable. And of course, he let you do his skincare. He'd let you do whatever you wanted, honestly.

You quickly run to your bathroom and grab your skincare, face masks, and skincare headbands. Ni-ki looks at you, slightly confused, not understanding why you had so many things in your hands. He helps put the items onto your bed and sits down, waiting for you to do his skincare. You wipe his face down with micellar water and put the face mask on him. He just stares at your beautiful face, enjoying how close you are to him. Swiftly, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

Shit, your face was hot again. Ni-ki giggles and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

"kiiiii" you whine, "you got the face mask serum on my face"

"sorry baby, you're just too cute" he teases and gives you another kiss, but on the lips this time.

You smile fondly at him and start putting your own face mask on, asking ni-ki to help you. Of course, he helps you and notices how big his hands are compared to your face. He loves it. You were so tiny compared to him.

Once it was on, you take out your phone to take a selfie. You both loved taking pics together, so that you could look back and laugh at them. After taking the picture with him, you pull out your wired earphones and give him one of them. Another thing you guys loved to do together was listen to music. You both enjoyed music, although you didn't dance like him- you still loved it just as much.

Getting comfortable, you both get under the comforter and he wraps his arms around your waist, your back facing his chest. He rests his head in the crook of your neck and pulls you closer to him. (if that was even possible) He loves how you smell, he could really smell your vanilla shampoo and conditioner now and he almost melts. He feels so relaxed, and you do too. You could hear ni-ki's breathing because he was right next to your ear, and you loved being so close to him. By the way he was breathing, you could tell he was asleep.

Slowly, you shuffle your body around so that you're facing him now, chest to chest. You gently take off the face mask and pat the serum into his skin, making sure you doesn't wake him up. You observe his beautiful features, his pretty eyelashes, his pouty lips, and your favorite- his pretty moles. You loved his moles, especially the one on his chin. He always told you how beautiful you were, and you realized you didn't tell him enough about how absolutely handsome he was, inside and out.

You promised yourself that from now on, you would tell him at least 100 times every. single. day.

You brush your fingers through his pretty hair and lovingly trace his features with your smaller hands. Without realizing, your eyes start to get glassy. Ni-ki was so beautiful on the outside, but also so beautiful on the inside. He always made sure you were doing okay mentaly and reminded you of how beautiful of a person you were.

After staring at him for (at least) 5 whole minutes, you take off your own skincare mask and decide to just call it a night. You really didn't want to get out of this comfortable position.

Ni-ki is so special to you, and you love him so fucking much. He's had such a positive effect on your self esteem and mental health and you're forever grateful. He was your soulmate, you were very sure of that. Nobody compared to him, and nobody was ever going to compare to him.

Honestly, you won the boyfriend lottery.

this is the longest fic i've ever wrote and surprisingly, i don't feel too bad about it! pls reblog if you enjoyed <33 my other works are here :D

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Teaching Him A Lesson (Lucifer x Reader) (Cucked Alastor x reader)

CW: Drunk sex, Dub con due to drinking, cream pie, breakup rebound sex, noncon cucking, fem receiving oral, bondage for Alastor Rated: Adult Summary: After being dumped by Alastor, you soothe your heart at the hotel bar. Lucifer is more than willing to listen to your sorrows and even indulge you when you take Angel Dust's advice of fucking your way over Alastor. Unfortunately, when Alastor sees you slip into your room with someone else, he regrets his choice and Lucifer decides to teach him a lesson.

AN: We finished it! It's a week and a half late but we fuckin finished it!! Thank you everyone who's cheered me on as I've explored characters, pairings, kinks and situations I would otherwise never have written and stay tuned for what @redvexillum and I have planned for December!

Lucifer prided himself on being the bigger man, even when he wasn’t. He was weak to temptation, in reality, though he wasn’t fond of admitting it. That’s how he became the king of Hell, banished from his heavenly home for daring to think he knew better than his divine father. 

It was that same weakness to temptation that had him following you through the halls, hand tucked into his after spending a few hours and too many drinks listening to your sorrows at the hotel bar. Your hair moved with your eager pace, tear-stained face smiling back at him as you pulled him along. 

This wasn’t right. Lucifer knew that, but he had always had a soft spot for you and oh, you were so eager. 

Your heart lay shattered in your chest. What did you expect, falling for the Radio Demon? The two of you had given it a good run, all things considered. That was more than most people could ever dare to hope to get with him. For a short year, you had stood by his side and, oh, how you had loved it. 

You thought he loved you. 

That’s why it had come as such a surprise when he had sat you down and told you he was done, that it was over this morning. You were a distraction. The benefits you brought to his life weren’t worth the weakness you created. He didn’t want you anymore. 

Cast aside. 

It hurt and you begged. It did no good, though. 

Angel Dust was sure what you needed to move on was a good fuck. Maybe he was right? Probably not, it had only been a few hours, but the more drinks you had, the better of an idea it sounded. 

Who better than the King of Hell to fuck away the memory of Alastor’s touch? Lucifer had been so kind too, listening to you ramble and cry. He didn’t get on well with your ex, but that didn’t seem to impact his kindness at all. 

“This is my old room,” you said, stopping in front of a door you hadn’t opened in six months. 

“Are you going to open it?” Lucifer asked, hand still held in yours. “If you’ve changed your mind, that’s-” 

“Are you going to kiss me?” You asked, reaching behind you and turning the knob, letting the door click open. 

Red eyes shrouded in shadows watched from the end of the hall as Lucifer enveloped you in his arms. Anger rolled through the static that surrounded him as he watched your body melt in the King’s, lips moving against his. 

Until this morning, you had allowed Alastor to hold you like that. Until this morning, you allowed Alastor to slip his tongue between your parted lips, drinking up the sweet sounds of your pleasure.

Alastor had been at peace with his decision when you ran from your shared bedroom this morning. He had been at peace with it as he watched you drink your sorrows away. There was hardly more than a twinge of jealousy as you sat with Lucifer at the bar. 

But now, as Lucifer walked you into what had been your bedroom. 

Warm lips moved against yours, soft and longing as Lucifer’s kiss stole your breath away. Your mind swam, wrapped up in the idea of him and floating on a sea of apple-flavored drinks. 

His arms wrapped around you as he walked you into the room you had thought you would never be in again. His body was hard against yours as he struggled between wanting to hold you and let his coat fall down to the ground, urged off his shoulders by your hands. 

Nimble fingers worked at the buttons of his vest, working it open one button at a time as he kissed your neck. Soft sweet words were whispered, unclear and unable to be made out as they mixed into one soft sound spoken against your neck. 

Lucifer pulled your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the side as you worked through the buttons of his shirt. His hands replaced yours, yanking at the fabric. Buttons went flying, ripped from the stitching. 

Hot skin was against skin in a matter of moments. Lucifer’s warm chest pressed into you. The warm skin of his chest pressed your breasts flat. There was an eagerness to feel you that you hadn’t realized you missed. 

When had Alastor last held you like this? Kissed you like this? It wasn’t that intimacy was lacking with him; it was just that he was sparing with it. There was a passion and need to Lucifer’s hands, unclasping your bra and sending it flying off into the room that you had missed. 

It felt good to feel wanted. It made you feel powerful to have a man wanting you, eager for you. There was no taking your time. He wasn’t taking his time with you. The way Lucifer’s hands moved over your curves, it felt like he would die if he couldn’t take in the feeling of your skin enough. 

“I want you,” Lucifer said, lips working over the swell of your breast as the backs of your knees hit the bed you hadn’t slept in in months. 

“I need you,” you moaned as Lucifer worked the fly of your pants open, sinking to his knees as he worked the pants down your legs. 

It was fine, Alastor told himself as the door clicked closed. This was what he had wanted, you to no longer be a distraction. Yet as he paced the hall, Alastor had found himself to be even more distracted. 

You were not supposed to move on so quick. He devastated you this morning. You shouldn’t have been taking another man to your bed the same night. There was something wrong. 

Lucifer had to be influencing you. 

Alastor needed to stop this. You belonged to him. 

“Troublesome woman,” Alastor said, walking to the door. The shadow moving along the wall next to him wore a bitter frown, anger clear in the spikes of his hair and clothes over the situation you had put them in. 

Lucifer knelt in front of your knees as you lounged back on the bed, hands supporting your weight as you lifted your hips for him. He peeled your soaked panties from your core as the door to your room opened. 

“Get away from her!” Alastor stormed into the room as if it was his. 

“Alastor!” You sat up, arms crossing to cover yourself. “Get out of here.” 

“You belong to me,” His voice rose as Alastor stepped closer, “Stop this nonsense and we’ll talk.” 

“She doesn’t,” Lucifer said, still kneeling with his cock straining against the front of his pants. “You left her.” 

“Leave, Alastor.” Your voice was thick with emotion, anger and sadness fighting for dominance. 

“You do not need a half sized king to satisfy you,” Alastor continued telling you what to do, what you needed. 

“Please,” you whimpered. 

“Angel, look at me?” Your eyes flickered down to Lucifer, thumbs rubbing soothing circlers of comfort on your thighs. “Do you want this still?” 

“I do,” you sounded less sure than he would have liked but that’s alright, Lucifer would work with it. 

“Then ignore him, pay attention to me.” Lucifer ignored Alastor, who was putting off waves of radio static behind him. 

“Get your hands off her,” Alastor snarled as your panties went lower and lower down your legs. He couldn’t see the core that rightfully belonged to him. Lucifer’s body was blocking his view. “I will rip you limb from fucking limb.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Lucifer said, licking his lips as he leaned in, kissing your thighs as he spread your legs wider. “Shall we help Alastor learn his place?” 

“What do you mean?” You trembled, struggling to hold your arms over your chest and not fall back as Lucifer’s tongue made a quick pass up your spread folds. 

“I mean, let me show him how powerless he is.” Lucifer placed a soft kiss on your clit. “Let me show him how well I can satisfy you.” 

“Oh,” your eyes flicked to Alastor, standing frozen in place with his smile straining. 

“Look at me.” Lucifer’s lips moved against your clit as he spoke. “Pay attention to me. Don’t worry about him.” 

Between the drinks still humming through your bloodstream and the allure of Lucifer, you failed to see the shimmering of golden chains wrapping around Alastor and rooting him in place. The way Lucifer wrapped his lips around your clit distracting you from Alastor’s struggles against the chains, or the way his voice seemed to be muffled by the air. 

“Oh, my.” Your back arched, arms falling from your breasts as the wet muscle of Lucifer’s tongue worked into you. 

He wasted no time in playing your body like an instrument. Fingers pressed inside your weeping core, sinking deeper and deeper as he pulled waves of pleasure from you. Lucifer was skilled with both his tongue and his hands, driving you closer to the edge with little effort at all. 

Your breasts were shamelessly on display as you gasped for air. Alastor pulled against the chains, bitter threats failing to travel far in the thick air of the room. He watched as your breasts rose and fell with each gasping breath. 

He watched as your body grew tighter and tighter. He knew your body like the back of his hand. You were close. 

Alastor had no choice but to watch as your first orgasm washed over you. Each moan was music to his ears, but he should have been the musician. 

Lucifer drank you your slick, eagerly taking in everything you had to offer as your body wracked through the waves of pleasure. Only once you stilled did he rise, tongue running over his lips as he freed his cock. 

You were spread out, shameless now as Lucifer looked over his shoulder. He made bold eye contact with the man restrained in the back of the room. The positioning wasn’t the best, he decided. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Alastor snapped as chains pulled him around the room, letting him see the couple from the side. 

“Making sure you have the best seat in the house,” Lucifer said, stroking his cock as your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. If he waited much longer, the drinks and soft afterglow of your orgasm would have you asleep before he had really taught Alastor a lesson. 

“Stop me if you can,” he said, chuckling as he turned his attention back to you. “Ready baby?” 

“Please,” you spread your thighs for him, showing him your needy core and begging him to fill it. 

“Let’s show him how it’s done.” Lucifer pulled you to the edge of the bed by your thighs. Your ass hung slightly over now, supported by his clawed hands. The soft head of his cock lined up with your opening.

Alastor couldn’t look away as the King of Hell sank his cock slowly into the woman he realized he loved. You were so hurt that you’d let Lucifer use you for his petty game just to hurt him back. 

Chains dug into his body as he thrashed and fought, struggling for even a centimeter of progress toward the man he wanted to rip apart. He would bath himself and you in the man’s golden blood, then remind you who you really belonged to. 

“I just need to,” each word was a struggle to grind out against the tightening hold of the chains, “Get free.” 

He couldn’t. There was nothing Alastor could do against the power of Lucifer himself. All he could do was watch as another man’s cock slowly pushed inside the body that belonged to him. 

Alastor stilled, watching as your mouth fell open as the king filled you. Your fingers bunched into the bedding, dust floating up from where the fabric pulled. 

Lucifer pushed into you until his body nestled tightly against you. Each aftershock of your orgasm caressed his straining cock, urging him to hurry. For a moment, he simply bathed in the feeling of being inside a beautiful partner once again, after so many years without his wife. 

Ex wife. 

“Pay attention now,” Lucifer said, pulling out from you only to slide back into place. “And I’ll show you how it’s done.” 

Your body rocked with each thrust into you. Your breasts bounced and moved, nipples putting on a dance for just the three of you as he worked into you. The pace was slow and steady, giving and taking pleasure with each lazy thrust. 

“More,” you begged, reaching out for Lucifer. Fingers wrapped around his wrists as you struggled to meet his thrusts in the position. “Harder,” 

“Already?” Lucifer asked, chucking at the needy whine. “You’re so responsive and he sent you away?” 

“Please,” you begged, “Please, just fuck me.” 

“He really is missing out,” Lucifer said, pulling from your body. The cold air rushed around his wet cock as he motioned for you to roll over. “Hands and knees.” 

Alastor protested, voice a muffled buzz in your ears as the man you had loved for the last year was pulled in front of you. Your eyes ran up his red clad body, taking in the way his cock strained against his pants. 

The bed shifted as Lucifer climbed up on it, positioning himself behind you. You looked into Alastor’s eyes as Lucifer’s cock sank into you. 

The pace was as you had begged for, harder and faster. He gave you more and more, high moans falling from your lips serving to encourage him.

“Good girl,” Lucifer said, pulling your torso up to rest against his chest. The long, whip-like tail that extended out behind the devil wrapped around your thighs. The spade tip caressed your clit as he continued to thrust up into you. 

Alastor’s hand fell to his crotch, palm absently caressing the bulge even as he spewed words of anger. 

Lucifer palmed your breast as his horns extended up. Red and yellow eyes inverted, burning over your shoulder as he gave you the harsh fucking you had been begging for. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he pushed you closer and closer to your finish. The coil within you was quickly winding, tightening as the breath was knocked from your lungs with every brutal thrust in a moan that made him want to hear it again and again. 

You screamed as you came, the spade of your lover’s tail slapping your clit softly as you shook in his arms. The men in the room with you would never agree on if the name you screamed was the correct one, but that didn’t matter to you now. All that mattered was the way Lucifer’s cock felt pushing through your quivering walls.

As your body grew weak, he let you fall to the bed. Folding himself over you, Lucifer pounded into you as he chased his own release. It didn’t take long at all for him to shoot hot ropes of semen into you, painting your twitching walls with everything he had. The throbbing feeling of his release had you moaning again, slitted eyes on Alastor while you rode the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

You hated him. 

You loved him. 

Tears ran from your cheeks as the King of Hell’s cock twitched inside you, shooting the last spurts of his seed against your cervix. You struggled to breathe as a sea of emotions crashed over the shores of your heart. 

Your spent body sank into the mattress as Lucifer carefully lowered your hips down. The alcohol and post orgasmic bliss called to you, telling you stories of how you could deal with the aftermath of your actions in the morning. 

It would all be easier in the morning. It would all make sense in the morning. 

In the morning. 

You slipped off to sleep, Lucifer’s hand still on your hip as darkness claimed your relaxed mind. 

Lucifer walked, cock still in the process of softening and standing in front of him, to get a warm towel to run over sore skin. He had to compromise the quality of his clean up in favor of not waking you. 

Alastor screamed, voice unable to reach your ears as Lucifer scooped you up in his arms and nestled you into the bed. It was the wrong bed. You shouldn’t be sleeping in this bed. 

With a snap, the King was dressed again.

“Come along,” Lucifer said, pulling Alastor out of the room and down the hall by chains. 

“I will make you pay for this,” Alastor roared, voice hardly carrying down the dark hall. The surrounding chains slacked, but still prevented him from moving freely. 

“I won’t,” Lucifer said easily, eyes making a point of running down Alastor’s body, taking in the dark patch blooming at the end of the bulge in his lap. “But I do hope you’ve learned your lesson.” 

“Who are you to teach me-” Lucifer cut him off.

“Do not throw away people who love you,” Lucifer spoke simply, voice thick with emotion as he caught sight of the wedding ring he still wore on his finger. “And don’t put the people you love last. You never know when they’ll walk away and not come back.” 

“You know this from experience, your highness?” Alastor’s tone was mocking, a shallow attempt to make up for his lack of ability to generate volume at the moment. 

“I do,” Lucifer said simply. “Maybe you can fix things with her in the morning, if you want to. If you don’t, let her go.” 

Alastor stood, frozen in place even as the chains around him disappeared, watching Lucifer walk down the hall. His shadow split from him as he turned toward his door. As he entered his room, the part of him that expressed emotion far easier entered your room. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[sainzfav]

❝︎ must be fate ❞︎ … joe burrow pt.1

left you out there standing

summary - after a tragic loss to the ravens, joe finds himself pissed and frustrated. on the contrary, a marylander visiting her parents, getting a break from the busy new york life finds herself crossing paths with a certain quarter back

pairing - joe burrow x fem!reader

song inspo - n/a

warnings! - cursing, alcohol

word count - 1.4K

authors note - this takes place at the november 7th, 2024 game when the bengals played the ravens!

"Fuck"

Joe said under his breath. The Bengals lost 35-34 to the Ravens.

"It's just an away game, man, we'll get them next time, trust," Alex said, coming up behind Joe.

"Alex, we were up for half the fucking game, then because we got lazy, we lost," Joe said, pissed off about the outcome of the game.

It was true; they got lazy. It started off great for the Bengals. The Ravens weren't playing well, and that was enough to get two touchdowns ahead, but the fourth quarter came, and the Bengals got lazy. Even when the Ravens threw a touchdown pass instead of wasting time, leaving the Bengals with about a minute of playtime, the Bengals still managed to lose.

"I don't want to hear any fucking excuses, we lost cause we were dumb and lazy, now get out of my face."

Joe's tone was sharp and angry. There was no "bright side" to this situation. They had the perfect opportunity to win and didn't take it.

-

*liked by alexconsani, charlidamelio, and 1.6M+ others*

ynofficial gotta love a w

"Wow Y/n, over 1.5 mill already, you're insane"

Y/n whipped her head around.

"Maya, you're fucking joking... 1.5 million?! There's no way"

"How are you surprised? People love a good casual post, anyway, what's the plan for tonight? Are we going out, back to your parent's house? What are we doing?"

"I feel like we have to go out, right? Plus, I wanna show you the bars around Baltimore. We could do a little bar hopping night, how does that sound?"

"Oh my god, perf" Maya exclaims, going back to scrolling on her phone.

Maya and Y/n had been friends since college, and she was truly the one person who treated Y/n like a normal person.

Y/n then connected her phone to the car to play her music through.

"Play some Pitbull, I want to get hype for the bars," Maya says loudly from the backseat. Y/n chuckles and rolls her eyes while finding a good Pitbull song to put on.

-

"Joe, some of the guys and I are going out, how about you join us. I know it was a shitty game, but going to a bar or somethin' is probably better than sitting alone like a loner," Tee says, reaching to the seat in front of him, putting a hand on Joe's shoulder.

"I'll think about it"

"Well, hurry up, cause once we get back to the hotel, we're all gonna shower and get ready and shit to go out"

"Yeah, alright"

Joe was honestly not as much of a "going out" person as some of his other teammates, but going out to distract from the shit game that just happened did seem appealing.

-

The sound of the music and conversation filled Y/n's ears the second she and Maya stepped into the bar. The electric atmosphere was impossible to ignore, and a feeling of excitement flooded over Y/n.

"This is the best bar in Baltimore; the vibes are always so good, and their drinks are the best," Y/n tells Maya.

After about 45 minutes, Maya is gone, nowhere to be seen, leaving Y/n on a bar stool as she drinks the last of her vodka cranberry.

Just as Y/n is about to order another drink, she feels a presence next to her. She turns her head and notices a familiar figure.

Joe fucking Burrow?! Y/n thinks to herself. What a coincidence, holy shit.

Joe Burrow was the last person Y/n expected to see at a bar. Actually, she hadn't even thought about it once, but here she was.

He looked pretty pissed, which made sense after tonight's game. Just then, a loud voice came closer to where Y/n was sitting.

"Joe! Whatcha order?"

It was Tee Higgins, whose mood was the complete opposite of Joe's.

"I don't know, hey... Mike? What's your best drink?" Joe asks the bartender, reading the name tag.

"It's basic, but how about an Old Fashioned? Can't go wrong with that"

"Yeah, alright, I'll have that"

Joe then glances over and gives Y/n a weak smile, then looks down to notice her Ray Lewis jersey, chuckling to himself as he looks down at the bar table.

Y/n notices his face and immediately feels awkward.

"Would you like another vodka cranberry miss?" The bartender asks

"Oh, uh, yes, please, that would be great!" Y/n says, getting caught off guard by the bartender, still feeling awkward about sitting next to Joe.

Should have planned to go out and wear something other than a fucking jersey. This is so fucking awkward.

"Good night for you guys, huh?" Joe suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence between the two.

"Yeah, and rough one for you?"

"Yup. So, you from around here? Not to be weird or anything"

Y/n smirks at his comment. For a star, Quarter Back, he's a little awkward and shy.

"Sorta, I mean, I'm from Maryland, Annapolis to be specific, but I live in New York"

"Oh nice, what brought you to New York?"

"Work, I'm an actress, so everything I do is pretty much over there and on occasion, LA"

Never in a million years did I think I would be making small talk with Joe Burrow at a local bar in Baltimore, but here we are.

"Oh sick, how is that life? It seems like it would be crazy"

Y/n chuckles at his response. Being an actress is not a normal job by any means, and it's always so chaotic, but it's Y/n's passion.

"It is, but I wouldn't give it up for the world"

"That's pretty cool"

Just then a loud, drunk Maya comes over.

"Holy shit, Y/n, I met the hottest guy, and he bought me a drink, but then it turns out he has a girlfriend, well, they also just broke up because he bought me a drink, and oh my god, is that Joe Burrow?"

Joe starts laughing a little while Y/n covers her face in embarrassment. Maya was probably the most outgoing person Y/n knew. She was never afraid to speak her every thought, which sometimes led to awkwardness.

"Y/n, pretty name"

Y/n blushes at Joe's compliment, catching her completly off guard.

"Thanks," She says kindly, still partially embarrassed of Maya's story.

"Well, if you don't mind, Joe Burrow, I'm taking my best friend dancing, so kiss your goodbyes, and Y/n lets go"

"Hold on, let me get your number. I've had a shitty day on top of a shitty week, and our conversation, although short, has been nice."

Was Joe Burrow really asking for my number?

"Uh, yeah"

He then gives Y/n his phone for her to type in her number. After she adds her contact, Maya practically pulls her arm off, dragging her away from the bar, leaving her drink and Joe behind.

-

The next day, Y/n woke up to a line of texts from Maya.

Maya: Heyyyy, Y/n, so I know I said I would get an Uber back to your house, but I'm at a guy's apartment right now.

Maya: You up, Y/n? I assume you're still in bed, actually, but I'm at this guy Derek's apartment, just letting you know.

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Y/n

Maya: Well, love you, I'll be back at your parents sometime today.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Y/n rubs her eyes, trying to wake up more and make sense of Maya.

Just then she get's another text.

Rolling her eyes, expecting Maya, she checks her texts.

Instead, it's an unnamed number.

(513)111-1111: Hey, it's Joe!

Y/n sits up immediately. Sure, she gave him her number, but she didn't expect him to actually text her.

Holy shit

Y/n: Hey! It's Y/n

Joe: Yeah, I remember haha

Joe: Also, how's your friend? I saw you leaving the bar, but she stayed with this guy, who, and I mean no disrespect, looked like a douche...

Y/n: She's fine, at least I'm pretty sure. She texted me this morning that she's at this guy Derek's house, and she seems fine. She said she'll be coming back to my parent's house sometime today. All is good, haha. Thanks for asking, though!

Joe: Okay that's good. Well I gotta do some shit for press, but I'll talk to you later, Y/n.

Y/n: Have fun! ;)

And with that, Y/n turns off her phone, all of a sudden smelling the sweet smell of bacon from downstairs.

[hyperdramas]

assumptions | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warning: non-idol au, angst, romance, major league baseball player!seokmin, popular x nobody, depressing themes, unlikely meeting, sprinkles of fluff, miscommunication, pg-13/some suggestive themes (??) mentions of peer pressure, drinking & insecurity, cursing, there IS a happy ending (i promise)

playlist: assumptions, sam geliatry | runaway houses city clouds, tame impala | softcore & reflections, the neighborhood | passion, pinkpantheress

part: 1 of 3 extra note: thank the amazing @slytherinshua for coming up with this absolutely GENIUS idea🙏 / word count: 1.7k (longest thing i've written???)

Even though popular and talented Major League Baseball player Lee Seokmin had everything that eleven-year-old him would've wanted, he felt empty as he watched his own replays on the television.

Seokmin had fame—he was known everywhere, not only for his raw talent as a pitcher, but his model-like qualitites and his supposedly likeable personality. Seokmin had money—he lived in a pretty upscale apartment that was cut off for the rest of society, tucked away on a cliff overlooking the bustling night view. Seokmin had merit—he was praised for his physical ability, humble disposition, and respectable talent.

He had it all, and yet he had absolutely nothing.

Just hours earlier, the crowd's roar was tantalizing, drawing Seokmin in as he stared out at the thousands of fans coming to cheer for him and his team. Now, it sounded static-like and overwhelming, the sound unbearable as he had to switch the television, sighing as he moved away from the suffocating room that was once his comforting living room.

Seokmin's footsteps echoed into the empty, lavish kitchen, white tile unblemished as he searched his fridge. He wasn't hungry, but he looked inside it anyways, closing it moments after as he sighed to himself, hands in his hair as he rested his elbows on the sleek marble countertop.

Why did he feel so empty? He had his teammates if he needed to call, but he didn't want to hear their voices right now. He didn't know why he was angry at them, but he was.

Seokmin was never an angry person—sure, he got fired up at times or had strong opinions that he wasn't going to let go without a fight, but he was never one to just be angry for no reason. Something was bothering with him, but he couldn't figure out what it was or how to stop it.

Why was he even trying anymore?

"Fuck." Seokmin sighed out the curse word, bite still harsh behind it as he let his head fall down on the counter with a hard knock.

A knock at his door brought him out of his sour reverie, and he stared at it confused. He lived far off from the nearest residental area—who was here? How did they get here?

The doorbell rang just seconds later, and Seokmin groaned, tired eyes empty as he made his way to the front door, swinging it open to reveal you, standing in all of your oblivious, confused glory.

"Can I help you?" Seokmin's voice was obviously not the one you were expecting to hear, and you jumped at it, face a hot, blaring red as you realized what was actually going on here.

Your friend had given you an address that a party was going to be at, and you reluctantly promised that you would go. You had followed the directions to the letter, and didn't even think twice about when you arrived at the massive apartment, undeterred by the lack of cars or absence of party music.

You were obviously at the wrong house.

"Can I help you?" Seokmin repeated again—this time around, his voice was sharper, more annoyed. You stood in shock, obviously in denial that this had happened to you.

"Is there a party going on here?" You questioned, and Seokmin blinked, silent before he shook his head slowly. "....No?"

Not only were you at the wrong apartment, but you were at popular celebrity Lee Seokmin's apartment. The Major League Baseball player your little cousin was a fan of was standing right in front of you, in his attractive, dashing glory.

"I'm so at the wrong house." You say awkwardly, and Seokmin just stares at you, just as confused and disturbed as you are. There was this random girl at his door, talking about a party that he had heard absolutely nothing about.

"Yeah, you are." Seokmin actually let out a little laugh at that, eyes crinkling like the ways you say they did on television. You smiled, an even brighter red because the Lee Seokmin was laughing at you.

"Well, I should go. I'm sorry, uh, Mr. Lee." You said, trying to mend the awkwardness you were feeling. Seokmin paused, eyebrows furrowing together slightly as he spoke. "You know who I am?"

"Well, yeah. My—my little cousin—he's a really big fan of you." You reply, mind somewhere else. You're not a big fan of the man or anything, but you have said he's attractive on multiple occasions to your Major League Baseball-enraptured friends (who would not let you live it down if you told them that you had met him by accident).

"That's sweet," He says, and you nod, offering a small 'yeah' as the two of you fall quiet. "We'll, I'll go now." You say, smiling awkwardly as you start to walk away.

"Stop." Seokmin's voice is quick, but strong, and you pause, turning back around as you meet his gaze. His brown eyes were even prettier in person, and the tight, black tank top he was wearing (and you were trying to ignore) just made the whole ordeal even more unbelievable.

"Can you stay?" I just—" Seokmin pauses, struggling to find the right words. He couldn't even believe what was coming out of his mouth right now, but he couldn't seem to stop the words from coming. "I don't want to be alone."

You were stunned, unable to speak for a second as you replayed his words—he was asking you, a random college girl who inputed the wrong directions and ended up at a celebrity's rich-looking apartment—to stay with him.

And here you were, saying yes. "Yeah, uh—sure." You conceded, stepping inside the apartment as you slipped off your shoes.

Everything was so upscale, and you felt out of place, t-shirt and sweatpants doing nothing but making you feel like you were intruding in Seokmin's clean, neat space.

"Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?" Seokmin was in his kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water as he looked to you for your response.

You were watching his back intently, watching how his muscles tensed when he did certain things—he was built, no doubt about it, and you could imagine the curve of his collarbone and dip of his abs from your vantage point.

"Oh, um, water's fine." You answer, noticing that Seokmin had been staring at you for who knows how long, waiting on a reply.

He went to work, filling your glass as he passed it to you. It was cold, and you took a sip, quiet as Seokm looked out the massive window that stood his dining room. The air between you two was still very awkward, but you felt like you could open up about anything to him, and he wouldn't judge you like your mom or friends would.

"So, you live here all alone?" You questioned, and Seokmin nodded, taking another sip of water. "Yeah. It's just me." Seokmin answered, and his hand tightened around the glass. He was so alone, and so miserable.

"What about you? Do you live alone?" Seokmin returns your question, and you shake your head. "I live with a college friend."

"Oh." Seokmin nods, and you nod with him, silence falling over you two again. It was so awkward, sitting with this famous baseball player while drinking cold water and talking about your living situations. Could your night get any weirder?

You studied Seokmin's face, never really paying attention to it while you were talking. All the pictures never really did him justice—his eyes were prettier in person, and you never knew that he had a tiny beauty mark on his cheek. You guess it must've always been covered up, or obscured by his helmet.

His frame was as described by everyone in love with him—he was strong and broad, muscles bulging from his sleeveless tank top.

According to a Men's Health article you read once, Seokmin worked out daily, and they weren't lying—he looks like he was sculped by God, spending hours and hours to get to where he was now.

"Thanks for staying, by the way. I know it was weird, asking you to randomly stay with me in my house." Seokmin becomes timid, and you shake your head, shrugging. "Of course. I mean—I have nothing better to do, and I really didn't want to go to that party my friends were going to."

"You really didn't want to go, did you? You came to the wrong address just you wouldn't have to, huh?" Seokmin laughs, making a joke. You flush, laughing nervously as you set down your glass. "I guess you could say that, yeah."

The laughing dies out between you after a while, and you yawn, eyes growing heavy. Whether it's because the lack of real conversation you and Seokmin are having, or the fact that his voice is so calming and down-to-earth that you could phase into his countertop and sleep forever, you don't know.

"Your eyes are closing." Seokmin says—his voice sounds like he's laughing at you, but you're too busy fighting sleep off that you let it slide. "Well, yeah, I guess so."

"You're getting sleepy, aren't you?" Seokmin questions again, and you nod without thinking, head falling on the countertop as you mumble a yes.

Seokmin leaves his place on the other side of the countertop, making his way over to you as he leads you by the shoulders into his living room. His massive, warm hands engulf your shoulders easily, and you let him lead you, not putting up a fight as he lays you on his plush, velvet couch.

"What will the people think if they found out I was sleeping on your couch?" You muse, half-asleep. Seokmin pauses, brain racing at your simple question—so many things could happen if this were leaked to the public. His clean image would be stained by dating rumors if that happened to you, and Seokmin didn't know what he would do if the word actually got out.

"They're not going to." Seokmin says blankly, and you mumble something before drifting to sleep. Seokmin stares down at you, watching your soft features contort into a neutral expression.

What would reporters say? What would his teammates say? What would his coach say? What would his manager say?

Seokmin didn't know, but he found himself not wanting to think about that as he dimmed the living room's lights, walking upstairs to his room as he stripped himself of his pants and got into his bed, lights going out as he stared into the darkness.

What was he doing?

feedback & reblogs are so appreciated! i wanna hear your thoughts :>

[eternal-love]

Lover, you’re on your own

Pairings: Austin Butler x Female!Reader

Summary: After years of your divorce, Austin and you get in each other’s way again. Catch up, know what happened in last few years.

Author’s note: I don’t even know what this plot is but I kinda liked the idea of Austin and Reader finding themselves again. I kinda liked it, idk.

Warning: mentions of divorce, unhealthy relationships, children loss, spousal death, the reader’s been through a shit ton of divorces.

You were inside a café in New York City, enjoying being in your own for a while. After another hectic divorce, the choice of going to a bar wasn’t even on your mind anymore.

You started to wonder if you were cursed, you didn’t even care to count how many divorces you’ve had in the last thirteen years. Were you really never good enough to be a long time wife? Or did faith have something else for you in store? Whatever it was, life treated you like trash.

You drank your coffee quietly as she scrolled through your phone, you heard the door of the café open and close. You were very perceptive of who came in, who left, who coughed, who laughed. And once you saw who came in, you had to do a double take.

You knew that guy— man. He wasn’t a young guy anymore but a man. Austin. All those years ago and you still remembered him. Of course you had seen his rapid success these last years, he was everywhere. But you were in his past and you understood it. You didn’t expect anything but you wouldn’t lie if you said you didn’t want him to at least recognize you, wave at you or at least smile and nod his head.

You focused on your overpriced coffee and muffin, stealing gentle glances towards him. Until one time, you both made eye contact, he was going to turn back to his phone but immediately turned back again to see you. Oh, he recognized you!

“Hey.” His deep voice spoke as he reached your small table. You looked up.

“Austin. Wow. Hi!” You said, as if you had just seen him. “Oh my goodness, it’s been so long.” You stood up, greeting him with a hug.

“Look at you. You’re all grown up now.” He smiled at you. Whistling a little.

“I could say the same about you.” You said, sitting down again. Thank God he recognized you.

“Wow. I just can’t believe it. It’s been what… ten years?”

“Thirteen.” You corrected him. His eyes widened.

“Thirteen years? Damn, that long? He chuckled. “What are you doing in New York anyways. You used to tell me how much you hated the city.”

“A girl can change. And I find that bars here serve much better drinks.” You chuckled with him, then there was a calm silence before he spoke up.

“I heard you got married. Who’s the lucky guy?”

You sighed, showing him your empty right hand. Oh, so divorced already?

“How long?” He asked.

“Two years married. It was just a disagreement between us. We weren’t looking for the same shit in the long run anyways.” You sighed. It was better to say that than to reveal that your last husband left you for a barely legal girl.

“Two years. Damn.” Austin pressed his lips together, he looked away as he brought the cup to his lips.

“I heard you’re dating a model. Cindy Crawford’s daughter. That’s nice, it give you some… it factor.” You said, you were being half sarcastic and half truthful.

“Ah. Yes, Kaia.” He said, he really didn’t sound enthusiastic. “Everything is going just fucking peachy.” He said, a smirk on his lips.

You nod. The whole tired voice went over your head. He was dating a model, what else could a man wish for? If not a model with long limbs.

“Listen. I’m filming a movie right not but— I surely can make time to see you again. You said you drink, right?”

Your eyes immediately lit up, of course you could make time for him. Well, you wanted to catch up. That’s all.

“Sure. Yeah, what day?”

It was a cold night. But inside the bar it was cozy. You both had ordered, he ordered an Old-Fashioned and you ordered a Cosmopolitan.

You started drinking the night away, you weren’t outright tipsy, but the alcohol was getting to your head.

“I really, really wanted to ask. What’s the true reason behind your divorce?” He asked as he held his glass on his big hands.

You sighed. You were already here. You had known him forever. Yes, you two might have not seen each other in more than a decade, but beforehand you were husband and wife. You shouldn’t be honest at least.

“He cheated on me. With the neighbor.” You confessed, he gasped softly, his hand going to his mouth. “Yeah. She was nineteen, now he’s dating her.”

“What a motherfucker…” Austin said, rubbing his chin.

“I’m starting to believe I curse every guy that gives me a ring. Seriously, five failed marriages. I must be cursed.” You sighed, his eyes widened even more.

“Five you say?” His voice was incredulous. Five. Five marriages. He was your first, of course. “What about the other three? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“My second husband, Tyler, we weren’t a match made in heaven. I guess he scared me a lot. He would drink his paycheck away. We divorced because his incompetent ass went to rehab.” You sighed as you played with the napkins.

“Then there was Eric, he was boring. He spent more time on his office than he did with me. He wasn’t so bad, he was just distant, very. He loved his job more than he ever loved me. He didn’t even talk to me, he just left the divorce papers in the kitchen. He had left a day prior.”

“Then there was… Nate.” You sighed, looking down again at the napkin you’ve been ripping apart. “He wasn’t perfect. Indeed he could be very moody and he yelled all the time. But I cared for him. I didn’t expect him to be taken from me. No wife does. By I learned to accept it. Now I remember him from time to time. I take flowers to his grave whenever I can.”

Austin’s eyes softened as he reached out his hand and placed it upon your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. My goodness, where did you find those bastards to marry?

“Got any kids?” He asked you. Softly. Threading carefully.

“I tried. After we lost our boy, I really tried to get pregnant again. I wasn’t able to.” You said softly, you had at least wanted a baby. Not because you thought it would fulfill you. That was crap. But you wanted a kid so that you wouldn’t be so alone. “But I’m also grateful I never had a kid. It wouldn’t have been healthy if I had the kid calling three men daddy.”

“That’s true.” Austin said, taking a sip from his glass and nodding his head. “Listen. I know that you might think that I’ve forgotten about our baby. I haven’t. I visit the grave whenever I can. It’s just hard for me. Still. To believe he would have been thirteen this year.”

Austin looked down again. Taking your hand in his, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

Your baby boy would have been thirteen this year. How time flies.

You and Austin had been eighteen when you had a shotgun wedding because he knocked you up. He had been nervous but so happy. I mean, a tiny baby? He adored tiny babies. It was a happy married albeit you two didn’t know what to do.

But then, it happened, you delivered a beautiful baby boy. A tiny black-haired beauty, he had been a fighter, he had tried to beat the heat stroke that took him. You cried for days, he was there by your side, but he was young too and he was battling with his own demons, he quite literally filled for divorce out of nowhere, when you needed him the most.

You never saw each other again until now.

“I sometimes wonder, how different my life would be if he had lived.” Austin said softly, looking at you.

“Me too.” You wanted to cry, but you held back. You already cried a lot to your first child. You cried in private, like a prayer.

“Maybe we should’ve stayed married.” Austin said, almost with a hint of hopelessness. You stared up at him, a small smile on your lips.

“You were the best of them all.” You said, a smile on your lips. For all his faults, back then he was a kid too, and he mourned in whatever way he found fit.

“What a terrifying thought,” he finished his Old-Fashioned and laughed once again, shaking his head as he licked his lips. “Jesus Christ, don’t say that.”

You laughed together again, as you had done when you were younger. As you used to do late at night. And for some hours, you were happy by his side. He took this as an opportunity to talk about him now.

“You know, my girlfriend and I are having problems. Last thing I knew was that she fucked this comedian guy, from SNL…”

As you waited for a taxi, you smoked together. Maybe this could be the last time you two saw each other. Your lives were the total opposite now. He was a successful actor with a girlfriend and you were an office worker, who spent all her time working or outside.

But you couldn’t deny that when he talked, you stared at his lips, he stared at yours. The way he smoked, the way he held the cigarette.

“Aren’t you lonely now? I mean, you’re all alone.” Austin asked as he threw the ash on the floor.

“I’m trying to learn how to be alone. It will be my next year’s resolution. Stay away from dating.” You chuckled, you then took a drag from your cigarette. “But yes. I can’t get lonely from time to time. I have been someone’s wife for too long, being and living with someone changed the way you feel once they’re gone.”

“I can relate. Kaia and I— we never even got to live together before everything went south. All just because of her stupid parents and her stupid pap walks. It’s exhausting, really.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with this empty hand. “And now that I finally put my limits. She’s all mad at me, with her team sending these ridiculous articles, making me the bad guy.”

“Hey, it’ll get better.” You said, patting his shoulder. “That’s what you get for dating a twenty-something year old.” You patted his shoulder a bit more playfully.

You two started playing with one another, pushing each other playfully, the cigarettes on the floor already. Until he cornered you in the brick wall.

He leaned in and kissed you, you followed the kiss, at first it started slow but it escalated quickly. His tongue entered your mouth, both your tongues danced with one another, his hand went to your neck, pressing it softly. You both could taste the cigarette and liquor on your lips and mouths.

You hadn’t kissed someone in so long, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t. No. Not like this. No, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t say anymore.

So after a while, you pushed him off you gently. He was out of breath, he kicked his lips, his hand going to the side of your head, he leaned down.

“You could survive another man…” He basically purred out, his lips on a smirk.

“It wouldn’t work between us.” You said. Looking into his eyes.

“Why not?” He asked, his eyes only showed confusion.

He would forget you, and you would forget him. For the love of God, never once in thirteen years did he try to contact you, and viceversa. You both would remember your baby boy, but not one another. You two would disappear into each other’s memory until you were old and wrinkly, telling your grandchildren or whatever young person asked about your youth. Talking about how you had a shotgun wedding. Of how you two lost your baby. About how you two continued each other’s lives like strangers.

“We’re too different now.” You said, it was all you could mutter.

Not all the bottled up pain you had from when he just left you, grieving and alone. Nothing. You just couldn’t even talk about it anymore.

He stared at you and nodded. You know what? He understood. He understood where you came from. He was a dick back then. And he couldn’t expect you to jump into his arms after all the men you went through, after what you went through with him.

“It’s alright.” He said, pulling away from you. “I guess I should go back to my apartment, it’s late.” He cleared his throat and came closer to hug you. “It was great seeing you again. I hope we see each other walking by or something. Goodbye.”

He knew he was lying. He was pleased to see you, but every time he looked at you, he saw your younger self. He saw the baby. He saw all the bad things. He loved you once. Not anymore. He had a special place for you in his memory.

But it would be the last time you two saw each other.

As you watched him walk away, you took deep breaths. That was it. You were alone once again. As you had been before he walked into the café. You had no one to turn to tomorrow.

As a taxi pulled to the side, you got in and told the driver the address of the hotel you were staying at.

You were all on your own.

I won’t have any free time from now on so… I’ll try to really write whenever I have time.

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hello! I saw your post saying that you accept requests and mostly for Hawks rn. As u can tell from my username I LOVE this man, so I was thinking if you can write something about the reader using the Safeword during the act with him? Maybe he hurt her without meaning to? And it turns all fluffy with aftercare! You can ignore this if you want and I honestly don't even know if Im writing this in the right place or not it's my first time sorryyy 😭

Aftercare - Hawks x reader drabble

Author's note: Sorry this took so long haha, been busy with life. But!! I loved this idea! I love writing fluffy and doting Keigo. ALSO, here is my link if you want to support me financially <3 It's totally not necessary but money is super tight right now and I desperately need to get out of my household :|

Warnings: Mentions of sex (PIV), slight cursing, mdni. Reader is afab. Not thoroughly proofread

Sex with Keigo was always amazing, extraordinary even. You were lucky that you landed a partner as dutifully devoted to you and your pleasure as Keigo. Instead of giving yourself to some selfish prick whose love was dependent on how well you sucked their dick and how readily you were to spread your legs, you freely let Keigo’s soft touch, warm smiles, and protectiveness melt your heart. 

He often spent nights in between your thighs without so much as taking off his work pants, without expecting anything in return. His lips and fingers worked orgasm after orgasm from you. Your hands gently intertwine with his as he drags his thick cock against your sensitive walls, whispering murmurs of praise, light teasing, and - most importantly - consent checks. Keigo mentioned more than once that your enthusiastic consent made his dick dripping wet with precum. 

All of these facts did not aid the cognitive dissonance in your mind though  as he mercilessly pounded into you, his breath hitching every time he bottomed out; it was so rough it hurt, body haphazardly molded into whatever shape he pleased. The breeding season always heightened his sex drive. He needed this. What kind of partner would you be if you put your own needs in front of his own? 

So you did your best to take the ruthless pounding. Tears dripped down your cheeks. The taste of blood filling your senses as you bite your lip. 

“F-fuck, such a good slut for me, hm?” He rasps. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you’re pregnant.”

Deep breath. 

You could do this

Another deep breath.

You could do this.

And…

You…really can’t do this. 

“K-kei s-stop, ‘s too much …” your voice was too weak and breathy for your liking. “H-hawks”

Keigo’s hips jutted to a stop, half of himself inside you, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Earlier in your relationship, both of you decided on his hero name as a safe word. There was a strict detachment between Keigo’s hero work and normal life, so much so that he detested being called Hawks in your shared home. 

It took another moment for him to understand what happened, the lust fogging his mind pattering away. “Shit, baby…” he slowly pulled the rest of himself out of your spent hole, your body flinching. “Songbird, are you okay?”

As much as you tried to speak, your tongue was like lead, throat filled with cotton. Your sobs sounded more akin to choked babbles. The tears dripping down your face was more than enough though to clue Keigo in. 

“M’sorry” You managed. “S-so sorry, I-i know ‘s your rut but-“

Keigo cut you off with a gentle kiss, his feathers swiftly taking over all your senses as he rolled you into his warm arms. “You did so good for me, love. You don’t need to be sorry. Doesn’t matter if I’m in rut or not,” he pressed another light kiss on the crown of your forehead, “your safety and happiness is top priority.” 

“I wanted to do good for you” you mumbled. “You always take care of me…just wanted to do the same…”

“And you did, songbird.” He titled your chin so he can gaze into you directly. His eyes were always sharp like daggers, but when you stared at him all you saw was his adoration. “I promise it’s not even a big deal. I don’t want you thinking that just because it’s breeding season that I can do whatever I want to you.” 

Keigo’s thumb worked to wipe away the remnants of your tears, cooing praise until the saturation made you giggle. Gentle kisses were frequently exchanged. He failed to mention how this time of the year made him extra doteful. 

“Here, let’s run you a bath, yeah? I’ll start it and fetch you some water, okay baby? You just stay there and be pretty for me, let me take care of you.”

[marchsfreakshow]

Knowing You're Losing [Warren Lipka]

Angst

You never should've fallen in love with Warren.

:) you're welcome.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

It was a mistake.

You knew it was a mistake.

That damned brunette.

He infected your mind. Never left alone in your thoughts. His stupid dark eyes. His stupid curls. His stupid shirts. His stupid demanour. Basically everything about him. God it was infuriating. That fucking smile. It was beautiful and you despised it.

Watching him worm his way into girls underwear every party he went to. Watching him have the time of his life like it was all going away the next morning.

You hated him so much you loved him. Everything about him annoyed the shit out of you, and you just fell. Fell into a fucking pit of heart wrenching smiles.

Spencer, being the guy he was, definitely knew your feelings. He let you linger on them since his best friend was a temperamental piece of...anyway.

"Hey guess what?"

"What?"

"I love you."

Whiplash. Straight into your heart. Staring out at the nighttime through your window. Tainted with rain and the occasional crash of thunder. Warren was drunk. You knew it. He didn't mean it. Should you have said it back? Yeah. Fuck it, say it back.

"I love you too Warren." Warren hummed in reply, smiling to himself. "You'd just call me to say that?" A stupid attempt to keep the conversation going after a few moments of unnerving silence.

"...yea pretty much."

"Right. Well try to get some sleep yeah?"

"totally." Then he hung up. He wasn't going to remember this in the morning, and you had made peace with that fact. Forever in limbo with a man who you shouldn't've really been hanging around anyway.

Like clockwork his calls came. He was either drunk and telling you some feelings that didn't matter. Or he was waking you up with another rant about the economy. You'd be a fool to stay loving him for so long. And you were that fool. Constantly the fool.

"you're the prettiest person I've ever had in my arms." That was a lie. Well, you thought it was a lie. You'd seen prettier. His arms were wrapped tightly around your front, your hands holding onto his arms. The lights around you buzzed around the edge of your vision, blinking occasionally to get rid of the buzzing for a few seconds at a time. Warren was swaying you slowly from side to side, barely in time with the music blasting through your ears and into your heart. The side of his face against your cheek, to get as close to you as possible. It was heartbreaking.

You loved him. And you had him. Finally. But it felt all for nought. No one warned you of just how, intense, loving Warren was...when he loved you back. His everything and nothing at the same time. Sure he'd drop everything if you asked, but if he fucked up and you were upset, he wouldn't come to your door with flowers and an apology. Well, he'd apologise eventually, but not the way you'd expect. He'd invite you out to a bar and you'd start talking about the issue while he stared hearts into your soul. A drink stuck to his lips.

"I love you."

"yeah, I love you too."

"No...Warren...I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

You should've expected that. He did love you, you knew that. But it just didn't feel like it. Like he was saying it back because he had to. Not because he wanted to. Great... another issue.

Cuddling onto his jacket, curling up on yourself. Half asleep, lonely again. Of course. You were an idiot for thinking you were different. Only letting yourself believe it because your relationship went the longest. 7 months. The best but worst 7 months. Longest 7 months of your life. Still friends. Still close as friends, you couldn't pry yourself away from Warren no matter how hard you'd try. He had infested your heart and your brain. Living in your cortex, keeping himself close to you even through your expected heartbreak.

Every time, he told you he loved you. Like nothing happened.

You were a fool.

Back to watching him worm through different relationships every few months.

"you know I love you right?"

"I love you too Warren."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @marchs-hummingbird @american-horror-whore /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

[almostempty]

What’s Love Got to Do with It

(oberyn x f!reader)  wc: 4.6k | other fics 

note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present …. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??) 

I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3. 

ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.

Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for. 

tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes 

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume. 

The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps. 

Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink. 

Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university. 

Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot. 

Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing. 

“Viper!” 

You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue. 

“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.

You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night. 

But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv. 

He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights. 

You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room. 

You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again. 

He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air. 

You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party. 

You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him. 

You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you. 

“You know every girl here?” you challenge him. 

“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks. 

Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock. 

“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.” 

He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover. 

He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder. 

You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.

His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks. 

His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party. 

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly. 

“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.” 

“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously. 

It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted. 

“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do. 

You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret. 

You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!” 

He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously. 

You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.” 

“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty. 

“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does. 

You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.” 

He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.  

Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers. 

“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party. 

“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice. 

Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth. 

He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade. 

You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”

He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name. 

“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.” 

He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups. 

“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity. 

You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity. 

You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak. 

You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little. 

“What for?” you ask playfully. 

“To fuck.” 

It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man. 

“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.” 

Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies. 

Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties. 

“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze. 

He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh. 

“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.” 

You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair. 

He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago. 

You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair. 

You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed. 

It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth. 

More, more, more. 

It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.  

“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice. 

You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.

Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.” 

He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.  

Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration. 

“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”

“Hard.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress. 

“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers. 

With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues. 

He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning. 

You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity. 

“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction. 

He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room. 

You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at. 

You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought. 

He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs. 

You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance. 

He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep. 

It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for. 

Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs. 

You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv. 

He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle. 

“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”

You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door. 

You must understand though the touch of your hand

Makes my pulse react

That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl

Opposites attract

It's physical

Only logical

You must try to ignore that it means more than that

Oh, oh, oh

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

…..

tags for babes, but no presh:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy 

[a1ecmcdowell]

( AFTERCARE ) . . .ㅤㅤFOUR !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE new rock band in town has some nerve, causing mayhem in the venue next to your studio every night. but how do you stay MAD at the lead singer when he looks at you like that ?

PART FOUR. sorry that u love me !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤJENSEN POV!! fictional school lore. minor manipulation tactics. one (1) y/n and it DID upset me to do as much as it might u to see </3. reminder that this is a slowburn!!

parts will get longer, probably, as relationship develops.

ㅤㅤㅤ─ word count: 2.2k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprev partㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤmasterlistㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤnext partㅤㅤㅤ.

ㅤㅤA/N. i did not ever expect to do a jensen pov but honestly i just felt like this one deserved it. he's such a little rat but i'd let him hit it raw ok. before you say girl stand up... ik u were thinking it too... i see u ...

laurel dance academy was fucking cute. a prestigious little building deep in the forestry of outer dallas, tucked away from prying eyes and wanderers, full of some of the prettiest girls that jensen had ever seen in his entire life. 

they were all just as hyperfocused on their education and practices as you were, which meant that the most he got for wandering down the long, winding staircases and stopping to look in every two way mirror was just a look. 

a look! he was fucking trespassing, and all any of the college aged women and scattered men did was eye him, like they were just as aware of how he didn’t belong as he was. 

dangerous, dangerous. he was already trying to think up ways on how to get away with this more often. 

at least he was here for a purpose, and not just in an attempt to get a look at you in your little leotard again. he wondered if you tossed it after he debauched it, or if you’d thrown it in the wash and figured that was enough to get the stain of him off of your skin and your clothes. unfortunately for you, it wasn’t going to be that easy. he rather liked playing with his toys more than once. 

the dean of the school, tracy geralds, had agreed to a meeting with him. it honestly was a long shot, making that request in the first place, but if powerless was going to become something other than a glorified garage band, he had to take some risks that didn’t involve squatting in an abandoned venue. 

they needed shows, concerts, fucking get togethers if they had to settle for that. and while they were still clinging the dust out of every nook and cranny inside of sunset blvd’s walls, they couldn’t do it there. 

laurel had a stage. it was more designed for an orchestra, really, or, you know — dancers. but it was the first idea he’d gotten in their pursuit for getting the band’s name out there. it had nothing to do with you, even though he’d gotten the idea from your affiliation at the school. it was just too damn easy. 

he raps his knuckles on the dean’s closed, cloudy glass door. he waits one, two, three seconds before deciding to twist the knob and invite himself in. what was she going to do, expel him? 

she’s an older woman, pale blonde hair streaked white in places. her eyes are deep brown, thin lines in the corners, and deeper ones around her mouth. her lips twitch upwards in a small, polite smile. 

“jensen, is it?” she asks, moving around neatly stacked papers on her desk to clear an open space in its center. “go on, have a seat. i’m not going to bite.” 

“hey, you never know,” jensen jokes as he steps further into the room, tugging the chair in front of her desk out just enough to slip in the open space. he collapses into the cushion, stretching his legs out as much as he could in the small area. “i should thank you. for meetin’ me like this.” 

tracy geralds picks a pen out from the container at the corner farthest from jensen, and clicks it a couple of times. “i wouldn’t do that yet,” she says, grabbing a paper from one of the file folders. he was throwing this. she wasn’t even giving him her full attention which, he wasn’t entitled to it, but how was he supposed to flirt his way into getting what he wanted if she wouldn’t look into his eyes? 

“i think i’m gonna put my trust in you, tracy— i can call you tracy, can’t i?” his lips quirk in that panty dropping grin he utilizes so often. that smile’s latest victim had been you, and he could still hear the sound of your restrained moans in his ears. “me n’ my crew aren’t gonna fuck too badly with your stage, if you allow us to use the space.” 

her steely, dark eyes flick up at him. “i’d appreciate if you didn’t say fuck here, mr. ackles; not when you’re trying to swindle your way into getting something you want for free.” 

“oh, i wasn’t expecting free,” he quickly interrupts, and his eyes fall to the curve of her button up shirt, gaze tracing the form of her chest— or, lack thereof. god fucking damn it. he had so little patience, and so did she, and he had nothing to work off of. 

her thinned lips press into an even thinner grimace. “you think i’m going to be bribed with the promise of your—” 

a knock sounds at the door before she can finish, and jensen is almost relieved. he’s not in the mood to get his ass handed to him by a woman twenty years his senior, telling him that all he had to offer was, in fact, weak as shit. 

“come on in,” tracy says, her near sneer of a grimace still directed at jensen. 

he was fucking throwing this. 

the door creaks open, and he can’t help but be nosy. he’s already here. he tilts his head back in the seat to look at who was stepping in. 

his smile doubles in size, becoming something more genuine and less forced, at the sight of you. 

your eyes fall down to his instantly before they ever glance at the dean, and he shoots you a wink before turning around again, legs spread and entirely too comfortable for someone who wasn’t necessarily welcome. 

“oh,” you say finally, three seconds too late. so damn cute, he can’t stand it. like a little bunny! “i’m sorry, i can come back later, dean ger—” 

“don’t worry about him. we’re all but finished here,” the dean says, and he has to physically bite back the scoff that raises from his chest. yeah, he’d thrown this shit completely down the drain. unless…

your eyes glance between him and the dean a couple of times, before you clear your throat. “the cd, with the sleeping beauty songs? it, um, isn’t playing the music anymore.” 

he’s never seen you look so sheepish before. the urge to tease you about it is right there on the tip of his tongue, but he shouldn’t right now. he’s pocketing the information for later, though.

“really?” the dean asks, and jensen looks at her again, seeing the shock written on her face. mixed in with it is the slightest hint of fond exasperation. no surprise that you were a damn teacher’s pet type. “it’s brand new.” 

you make a dismissive sound. he’s glancing between the two of you like he has any fucking clue what this means; like he has a right to learn it, either. “beats me.” 

“i’ll go and take a look at it after this,” tracy assures, “and might just make a request for another, just in case. can’t have our aurora without her tracks, can we?” 

aurora. 

no wonder you were a teacher’s pet, you were the lead of whatever the hell performance you guys were talking about. jensen didn’t know how performances worked when it came to dance, but he knew disney princesses — of course he knew disney princesses — and could context clue the shit out of it to assume that you being aurora was a big deal. 

“thank you,” you say, and the door creaks again, like you’re about to leave. 

that won’t do. jensen sits forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, head swiveling around again to look at you. you really are a cute thing, dressed in a pale pink leotard and a matching skirt. your hair was slipping out of the tight bun it was usually in, front strands falling in loose ringlets. 

the smile didn’t work on the dean, but he knew that it worked on you. “hey, sweetheart. no hello?” 

the silence is so fucking heavy that, for the first time in what must have been ages, jensen regrets opening his mouth. the smile on his face becomes less charming and so much more strained. 

you don’t say a word. something about that irks him; the way you stare at him like a deer caught in headlights, your pretty pink lips parted and unspeaking. 

the dean does, though, a hint of incredulity in her voice. “you know each other.” spoken like a question and a statement at once. 

“neighbors,” jensen explains, and the white lie rolls off of his tongue so easily that it could have been the truth. the best lies were part truth, anyways, weren’t they? he’s starting to relax in his seat again, realizing he could salvage this. it was possible. his eyes flit back over to the dean. “she’s actually why i thought of laurel in the first place. i know all about the grandeur of your auditorium from her.” 

you’re glaring at him. he feels it like fire on the back of his skull. dean geralds’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “i didn’t know you hung out with… such a crowd as this, y/n.” 

the dean’s eyes bounce between jensen’s heavily tatted hands, his rugged beard, his ( definitely ) mussed hair, and then to behind him. jensen turns, too, unable to resist seeing your expression at such an observation. 

your lips are curled in the most delicious scowl, your eyes full of hate and fire, as they fall to his. “surprise,” you bite out, and how pretty anger sounds in your voice. he’s heard nothing but that, until now, but it never fails to knock him off of his high horse every time. 

“well, in that case,” the dean sighs heavily, “you must know about the fact that he wants to share the school’s auditorium, i assume.” 

your anger deepens into vibrant red. your cheeks flush with it. jensen half wonders if it’s because you don’t want him infiltrating your space, or because you’re thinking about all the opportunities he’s going to get to see you now. he can almost see the memory of a few nights prior flickering in your eyes. 

“jensen’s a bit of a fool when he sets his attention on something,” you say, and he has to physically bite back the laugh that wants to spill out of his mouth because of it. “it’s all he’s been talking about. doesn’t shut up about it.” 

oh, you are fucking feisty today. he has half a mind to bring up the fact that he knew how to stamp out that fire in you, but he won’t. not in front of your dean, at least. 

“i’m sure you can enlighten me on why he wants laurel so bad, in relation to the tens of other actual venues in the vicinity?” jensen is not a popular person in this room, but he’s having too much fun seeing you on the spot, practically squirming against the door, to do the right thing and tuck tail. “all the information he’s given me is poor attempts at bribery and flattery.” 

ouch. whatever. couldn’t win them all. 

your lips upturn at the corners, though, and that makes everything but you in the room disappear. forget the old ass woman behind him, and the clicking of her pen, the scratch of the ink against whatever she was scribbling down. you were captivating. 

“his band’s trying to fix up sunset blvd,” you say, your shoulders lifting in a little shrug to punctuate it. “until then, they don’t have anything to perform in. i’m guessing that. i don’t know. he doesn’t tell me any of the whys on his goals.” 

hot damn, were you good. he could read each of your expressions like a book, and apparently, you could read his. 

“i assume he didn’t want to go far from home,” you add slowly, like you’re trying to piece together his motives as you spell them out loud, “and knew that i went to school here.” he didn’t. but pretty little lindsey from destiny dance studio spills everyone’s secrets when she has someone’s head between her legs. “and figured he’d take a chance.” 

the dean made a humming sort of noise behind him, contemplative in nature. this was farther than he ever would have gotten with her, because now that he’d gotten his eyes on you again, the idea of fucking his way into a deal with someone with more gray hairs than blonde made him didn’t sound like such a great plan anyways. 

the rolling chair she sits in groans, and he turns over his shoulder to look at her again, even if it physically aches to pull his attention from you and that fiery look in your expression. “thank you, dear. you may return to class. i’ll be down to check that cd out momentarily. and you,” she says, glancing at jensen now, “you’re incredibly lucky, mr. ackles, that the odds somehow fell into your favor.” 

the office door closes behind him at the same time as jensen’s heart stumbles in his chest. his mouth opens and closes a couple of times before it settles on a grin. “i’m very lucky, yeah. i’ll make sure to let her know how thankful i am.” 

and he planned on keeping that promise, at the very least.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFEEDBACK & REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! < 3

tags! @happyladyduck @casatoan @mo0nwalker @manicjk @stereotypicalbarbie @inpraise0fbacchus @fitxgrld @depressionbarbie2023 @n-o-p-e-never @star-yawnznn @suckitands33 @stoneyggirl2

support me ( n get early access! ) on patreon!<3

[voxofthevoid]

*banging pots and pans together* Goyuu gremlins, come get y'all fucking juice.

I say this as if I'm not inundating you in goyuu every week, but Gojou has been conspicuously absent from my current WIP for...10 chapters and over 70k words. A major character and one half of the endgame ship, and he shows up halfway through the story—JJK has got me making more and more novel (in terms of my writing) narrative choices with each fic.

Gotta say, it feels great to get back into writing Gojou. Last time I tackled him was at the end of September, for the fem!Gojou no-powers oneshot. The necrofic from October beginning has a lot of Gojou, sure, but he's a...well, a corpse. Sinking back into goyuu banter and interactions felt like coming home.

Now, here's Demon/Hunter Horror Wednesday #9, featuring Gojou Sluttoru Satoru in the flesh.

There’s a man on the platform.

It’s the height that startles Yuuji first. He’s freakishly tall. The tallest person Yuuji’s seen—unless he counts Sukuna, which he won’t. Besides, this guy’s all legs, and it’s weirdly fascinating how they move, smooth and graceful under shiny pants reflecting the platform lights. They eat up the platform with long, languid strides, getting closer and closer and—

Yuuji blinks, dragging his eyes from the man’s legs to a face that’s a lot closer than he expects, even though he has to crane his neck to make eye contact—kind of. The man’s wearing sunglasses, those thick black ones that show nothing of what’s underneath, so Yuuji just ends up staring at his own distorted reflection.

His eyes are wide, his mouth a little open. Yuuji closes it, his teeth clicking together.

The height isn’t the only startling thing about the man. His hair is a shock of white, messy strands covering his forehead and even falling over the sunglasses. And Yuuji’s got no leg to stand on when it comes to people with eye-catching coloring, but there’s still something about this man that makes it hard to look away.

“Hi?” he offers warily.

“Hello,” comes the answer, immediate and cheerful. “You a local?”

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”

A tilt of the head. Those snowy strands shift with mesmerizing motions. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Why…am I reassuring you?”

The man claps, once. “Good point! You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

Yuuji’s so confused. “No?”

“Hmm, you don’t sound very sure about that either.” The man leans closer, which involves a lot of bending. Yuuji blinks at his reflection in the glasses, which blinks right back. “Nah, you’re too cute to be a serial killer.”

“Thanks, I think. Who are you?”

“Gojou Satoru!” The man declares, straightening up and sticking out an arm. “And who are you, my young, uncertain friend?”

Yuuji takes the proffered hand. It’s big, almost swallowing his whole hand when it closes around it. There’s warmth too, seeping boldly into his flesh.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he introduces himself. “I’m very confused.”

“I did get that impression.”

“No, I mean, you’re—” Yuuji shakes his head. “Never mind. Why are you asking weird questions?”

“Hey now,” the man says, his lips pressing into a pout. They’re very shiny. And pink. “Those were very sensible questions. There’s no point asking for directions from a non-local, is there? And it’d be very unwise of me to put myself in the maw of a murderer.”

“Well,” Yuuji says, slightly less confused, “I’m not a murderer. And I do live here. Moved here a few months back. Pretty sure I can give you directions. To where?”

“A recent transplant. I see,” Gojou murmurs, his head still tilted slightly down. Despite the opaque glasses, Yuuji has the distinct sense of being looked at. “Would you happen to know the way to the Fushiguro household, Itadori Yuuji-kun?”

“Fushiguro?” Yuuji repeats. “You know him? Or are you here for Tōji-san?”

“Both,” Gojou says, his smile widening. The glossy gleam of his lips doesn’t hide how sharp the expression is, and for the first time, Yuuji really takes in the rest of his face—the chiseled jaw, the straight nose, the prominent cheekbones. A sharp face, but pretty too. Like Fushiguro’s, except that while Fushiguro’s soft around the edges, this man looks like he’ll cut if touched. “—to me?”

Yuuji blinks back to himself, trying and failing to make sense of what Gojou just said. “Huh?”

That smile grows even bigger, flashing a hint of very white teeth. “I asked if you’re listening to me?”

“Oh. No,” Yuuji admits. “Sorry?”

Gojou hums, tilting his head like a curious cat. “I don’t think you are. But I’ll forgive it if you’re a good boy and take me to the Fushiguros.”

Yuuji swallows, his throat very dry. “I could, but…”

“But?”

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer, Gojou-san?”

Gojou snorts. It’s an ugly sound, rough and nasal. Something inside Yuuji unclenches, like that’s the proof he needed that this guy is human and not some abnormally pretty dream he conjured up. It’d be a kinder dream than usual, but Yuuji can’t trust his imagination anymore.

“I’m too handsome for that, don’t you think?” Gojou asks, his grin grown lopsided.

“Yeah, but—” Yuuji makes a sweeping gesture with his free arm, covering Gojou as well as the rest of the platform. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“So there is a brain under all that pink fluff,” Gojou says, his tone weirdly approving.

“I don’t think you get to talk about anyone’s hair,” Yuuji points out, eyeing Gojou’s snow-white strands again.

But Gojou just tosses his hair like he’s in a shampoo commercial. “It’s all natural.”

“So is mine,” Yuuji says drily. “Not the point.”

“Oh? What is your point then?”

“Serial killing. I think.” Yuuji shakes his head. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll take you to the Fushiguros’ place. Do anything weird and I’ll punch you.”

“Careful,” Gojou purrs. “I might be into that.”

Yuuji just looks at him for a moment, before taking in the rest of the platform with half a mind to foist this guy off on someone else. There’s no one, obviously. It’s not like this place is bustling even during what was the rush hour back at Sendai. Nanami and Yuuji were alone the entire time they waited, and he’s pretty sure no one but Gojou got off from the train.

Plus, he probably shouldn’t inflict this guy on anyone else. Yuuji doesn’t think he’s a bad person or anything, but he’s kinda weird. And Yuuji’s pretty immune to stranger danger.

Except when he walks into cursed churches.

“Come on then,” Yuuji says. “It’s getting late, and Tōji-san usually turns in early.”

Gojou’s lips and cheeks do something very weird. “Fushiguro Tōji has a bedtime.”

“Uh, not exactly—”

Yuuji’s cut off by demented laughter—full-on cackling, filling up the open air of the empty platform. All he can do is watch, nonplussed, until Gojou calms down, and even that’s startlingly abrupt, the noise stopping so suddenly that the resulting silence seems to boom.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gojou says, not sounding all that sincere. “That was just too funny. Guess the single dad life suits him.”

Yuuji thinks of what Fushiguro sounds like every time he has to talk about his dad. “I…wouldn’t say that. Anyway, you coming?”

“Sure,” Gojou says easily. “You going to let me go first, or are we holding hands the whole way?”

“What’re you—”

Yuuji realizes the answer before he even finishes the question, blinking down at his own hand—still clasped firmly around Gojou’s bigger one. He lets go quickly, snatching it back. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with it. Wiping it on his pants would be rude. And it’s not like Gojou’s palm was sweaty or anything. It was just warm, and Yuuji’s whole hand sparks like it’s stolen that heat for itself. He settles for folding his arms across his chest. 

Gojou looks entirely too amused. “Pity.”

“Don’t tease me,” Yuuji grumbles, hoping the heat on his face doesn’t actually show on the skin; he knows his odds though, and they’re not good. He’s about to march off, leaving Gojou to choose whether to follow, when something occurs to him. “Wait, are you…”

“Yes?” Gojou prods after a moment, that curling grin still in place.

Yuuji squints up at him, specifically the sunglasses. He doesn’t think Gojou’s blind. People wear sunglasses all the time, though he’s rarely seen ones so dark. And Gojou navigated the platform pretty easily earlier, no cane or anything. Still, the thought won’t leave his head, and Yuuji’s mind refuses to accept the vague sense of being watched as enough proof, so he asks, “Are you blind?”

“How blunt,” is Gojou’s response. “I like that in people.”

“That’s not—”

—an answer, Yuuji doesn’t say because Gojou proceeds to give him an answer, raising one long-fingered hand to pluck his sunglasses off.

A maelstrom of blue slams into Yuuji.

He’s seen blue eyes more than a few times. People he knew, people he passed in the street. Bright ones, dark ones. Then there’s Fushiguro, whose eyes act like some deep-sea trench, shifting from dark green to depthless blue based on the lighting and his mood.

But he’s never seen eyes like these.

It’s not just one shade of blue, but every blue, all at once. Thin threads of shuddering color, spreading out from pupils that swallow all light. It’s breathtakingly bright, like the colors are reaching out of the eyes to claw at the air. Or maybe they’re just swirling inside, chasing each other inside the confines of those irises.

A part of Yuuji knows that he’s imagining it, that Gojou’s eyes aren’t actually nuclear ghosts. But that logic doesn’t quite penetrate the blue haze in his head.

Gojou blinks, cutting off that stream of color, and Yuuji sucks in a breath like a drowning man.

[thefallennightmare]

Hey. Hi. Hello. How are ya?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need something?” He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need to taste you, baby.” 

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

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

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

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

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

I wasn’t what he imagined. 

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

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

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

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

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

Not for long, however. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, I really fucked up. 

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

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

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

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

I should say no. 

I should tell him to fuck off and leave.

But I didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes I do. 

“Go fuck-oh.” 

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

“Is this for me? Or for him?”

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

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

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

“Do I-?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, God.” I panted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fire of my orgasm was beginning to dwindle. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still fucking hate you,” I grumbled. 

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

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

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

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

Please. 

[ai-the-broccoli]

I DIDN'T NOTICE YOU RB'D THE DEATH NOTE ASK MEME uhhh. 23 and 24 maybe?

ooooh thanks!!!

23. what was your favorite moment and why?

"oooh that's a very hard question" ...is what I might've said, if this wasn't the light yagami animanga series and light yagami makes me insane. uhhh. I do have several though, if that's allowed.

(update: when I said "several" I meant uh. a lot apparently. whoops)

favourite line / favourite moment in a "holy wow this is amazing thematically": the. y'know. "Tell me, Light, from the moment you were born, have you ever told the truth?" line in the anime rain scene. yeah. holy fuck that is amazing because I LOVE that sort of thing. as far as character traits go, there's like nothing I love more than characters that are liars who lie lyingly (multiple types of this apply). it's truly, truly the best.

favourite moments based on what I repeatedly rewatched immediately following my first watch of the anime: there are, uh. three (in no particular order)

light goes home from the entrance ceremony, incredibly stone-faced (like 😐) the entire way -> gets home, gets up the stairs, opens the door, shuts the door, sits down on his chair, suddenly starts shaking -> blows up "Dammit! He got me! Damn L! I have never been so humiliated in my life!" (even Ryuk comments internally that he's never seen him lose his composure so much) -> suddenly laughs and calms down talking about how it's a battle of wits now and he'll make L trust him and kill him, with his own hands if necessary. i rewatched this several times in a row which was definitely very normal of me.

look at him. grumpy but in like an extremely restrained way (his face is even hidden). until it breaks completely in the next page lol

the last episode. light trying so hard not to laugh/smirk in the warehouse, then he reveals himself as kira (a lot of laughing), and he loses and falls pathetically, shouting for kiyomi and mikami and misa after matsuda shoots him, and then runs in the beautiful sunset, passing his younger high school self by, and seeing a vision of L before he dies on the stairs. all this is great and i did an immediate rewatch of this episode after finishing it

the Relight scene where Light laughs on top of L's grave soil. it's conceptually fucked up in an amazing way that really really appeals to me. murder and grave desecration are really romantic/beautiful/erotic on principle.

as you can see I am very normal. as you can see I am a very normal Light Yagami fan. one of those two statements may be unironically true, but the two statements inherently cannot go together. anyway this particular selection of scenes totally doesn't actually say anything about me right but anyway I'm right those are totally the best please torture light some more everyone

favourite moments I didn't immediately repeatedly rewatch/reread like that but are still my absolute top favourites:

The entire first episode because DAMN did it hook me completely very, very fast. I did NOT know there was going to be Faustian contract + god complex&general big ego + everything else in one in this little and very infamous character known as "Light Yagami". my expectations were blown instantly and I got obsessed with DN right away

L and Light declaring war on each other over the live broadcast and L asking and taunting Light/Kira to kill him. amazing. it was really... gay. sorry I can't think of a better word lmfao

L's death scene oh my god. GOD I loved (and was really really amazed/impressed by by) Light rushing to him at once and basically lying on top of him for a second, so that he will die in his arms. GOD. it is SO. like yeah this is literally my favourite sort of thing holy shit it is amazing (it's to gloat to him and to declare victory before his death, and it's to pretend to the Task Force too, and yet it seemed like such an instinctual reaction really that I think his first instinct really IS to hold him in his arms before he dies. this is really good). and the dramatic performance afterwards. I love it

on a COMPLETELY different note. JESUS CHRIST I love Soichiro's death scene actually. because holy fuck the multi-layered irony. I really love it. actually I think I wrote about that scene long before I even really wrote anything else about DN. alright here:

idk if I still 100% agree with my initial impression but it should still overall hold and MAN. I definitely loved it (<- fan of irony) (<- extremely, extremely normal Light Yagami fan) (<- fan of Soichiro also, to a lesser extent)

favourite moment that gave me a lot of thoughts when I'm reading the manga: (even though I already first watched the anime and this stuff is also in the anime)

the moment where Rem is like "okay I will kill L" and Light, person who has been plotting this exact murder for ages, is like. Oh shit. he'll die...? which is. man. Light sure is Light

like look at his face here!

favourite manga-exclusive moments:

Light not considering killing Sayu. Light asking Soichiro to promise him to come back alive with Sayu. that scene afterwards where Soichiro is at home thinking he should die. (at least I think those weren't in the anime?)

the manga ending is also good

I like that the manga tells us he lost weight and has nightmares due to using the death note. (it possibly has happened to anime light too but we don't get to see it)

not a "favorite moment" exactly, but while the scene is beautiful I don't like Misa dying in the end despite how much I adore everything else in that episode, so I like that Misa doesn't canonically die like that in the manga

favourite anime-exclusive moments:

rain scene and footwashing scene yes obviously

everything about Light being "haunted" after L's death. aside from the aforementioned Light dying scene, I really like the anime

I love the anime ending too

also hmm this might be a less popular opinion, but personally I also love some of anime Light's characterization tidbits that differs from the manga (e.g. first episode). I would say it's because it's maybe very slightly more relatable for me but that probably sounds wack lmao so

favourite moments based on how comedic I find them: (not including ones I already included in other sections) DN is such an amazing comedy I'm not even kidding

the whole handcuffs thing oh my god. homophobic misa moment. I didn't think she'd actually call him gay, but there it was. also just fken. buddy. L??????? why and how and in what world was there an absolute need for this totally normal, totally appropriate, absolutely most safe and most ideal method of interrogating criminals. I was laughing because god. that's not even. yeah okay I'm happy with it but LMFAO YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS. and Light just easily went along with it

the... the... first date scene. I was like oh my god c'MON you two. I didn't think something like this would be so like this in the actual canon manga. first date where Misa is being thirdwheeled while Light and L sit together chained together and then they focus all energy on talking to each other and then they get into a fist fight (date activity) all over the room. combined with the later dunking on matsuda. this is LITERALLY how a fucking sitcom goes at this point.

the anime's footwashing also. not the scene itself necessarily but just the fact that it fucking exists between lawlight and is. Like THAT????? lmfao like what the hell

ALSO the. fken. Matsuda fake death scene lmfao it was so wack in retrospect

live Ryuk reactions + "hey Light can we play Mario Golf? can we play Mario Golf Light? come on let's play a match of Mario Golf"

man I can't even include all of it here because Light Yagami is so entertaining to me in 85%+ of all the scenes she appears in in one way or another like his existence itself is peak entertainment to me. it's entertaining when Light is humiliated and it's entertaining when he's succeeding. and like I mean, he's the protagonist of the whole manga / show, and I mean I can't list every moment in the series can I. lmao

favourite moments that don't have light yagami in it: I'm sorry everyone else but I am especially obsessed with light. as you can see. however I love many other characters too

Kiyomisa dinner kiyomisa fighting !!!

(technically this includes light but) matsuda shooting light

misa being unexpectedly smart (compared to her wider reputation) (the higuchi car scene! and others) is also nice

idk if it makes sense but. the scene where Rem and Misa mention the way a Shinigami can die, and Misa admits to thinking about killing Rem like it's. just very Neat. I like the vibes here and Misa is very beautiful (related to the dialogue about love and killing. yeah)

also!! I love the meronia moments

and then I recently got myself into soichello so actually yeah. the soichiro mello scenes too. very good

24. any headcanons you want to share?

uhhhhhhhhhhh hmmm. man what's a headcanon I haven't properly shared on tumblr before, and also isn't like a take that is shared and often discussed by tons of people around here already?

... fine okay let's do this finally.

neurodivergence + mental illnesses headcanons

[disclaimer: please read this post first. if you disagree, you can skip over this and skip to the next section!]

aside from OCD and autism, imo Light has NPD with some ASPD traits, and also bipolar. this is because the way his mental illnesses are is like. I feel represented lol. (not as in I have every one of those things I listed, but I probably have some/most of them, and the combinations are interesting). even though this is unfortunately Light Yagami. but I really like him for that too tbh because man. I don't get to see that stuff often. (like idk how to explain it. even though I'd never even remotely pull that kinda stuff because of differences in personalities, values, background, abilities, and manifestation and degree of symptoms, etc. however some of his mannerisms sometimes feel right on point e.g. I feel like the way he is like sometimes gives me depression + hypomanic/manic vibes, in a way where I can see myself in him if it makes sense lmao)

on that note Misa 100% very BPD I agree. I wanna say on top of autism, L also seems to have some ASPD traits imo. Near is autistic but I think that goes without saying lol. Mello has like... C-PTSD and/or NPD. and then this probably not a very unexpected take, but Matsuda has ADHD or audhd vibes. OH and! Soichiro also very much has OCD and autism, imo.

other headcanons:

not a hot take, but Mello and Near are both nonbinary and/or genderqueer (and/or otherwise trans, if not applicable) to me (could be transmasc or transfem, not necessarily transneutral; I could see either or any direction among those, although I would say I lean toward seeing Near as transfem and/or nonbinary, and Mello as transmasc and/or genderqueer).

Light is demi, and has had a covert superiority complex about not feeling attraction unlike his peers (like. you can view him deciding to use porn mag reading to prove himself as a normal teenage boy as indicative of his subconscious? mental association of his more "normal" peers as, like.... unfortunate horny perverts. in a way. if that makes sense) I know how it feels because I was kinda like this in grade 6-8

man I definitely have other ideas too but I'm drawing a blank at the moment partly because it's late and I still haven't eaten lunch lmao. I will continue to post my thoughts and headcanons in the future, so tune in by clicking on the subscribe butto- *gets shot*

ask game