#WHY DO I KEEP BEING RIGHT ABOUT PLOT TWISTS?!?

[cursed-angelic-art]

Key Themes in TGCF

Posted this to reddit, but I want to save it here as well, because I've been seeing an uptick in people coming from SVSSS or MDZS fandom to TGCF and being disappointed. Either they find it boring (fair criticism for the first two volumes honestly), or the plotting is incoherent, or they don't understand the ending, or find the plot twists too predictable. I think the key thing to keep in mind while reading TGCF is that it's about an abuser controlling the narrative surrounding a victim, and the victim coming to an understanding of the depth of that abuse and wresting back control of the narrative. So here's my rambles on that: SPOILERS AHEAD

Going to expound a little on why I love TGCF. Xie Lian's progression through the story is not the typical character arc for a protagonist. He doesn't exactly go from point A to point B, where he starts off with a huge flaw that he works on and overcomes by the end, but rather he meanders from point A through points B, C, and D, and finally back to point A. This is not because he has no flaws. He certainly does. His inability to look at the past and have an open dialogue about it with the people he loves is one flaw he overcomes. But it is not the pivotal tragic/heroic character flaw we are sold at the beginning, which is his "naive" belief in the goodness of others. This is because he is was right in his forthright and honest beliefs from the start and it's his long degradation at the hands of the abuser that makes him question and doubt and go seeking for different answers, constantly holding that belief in goodness as the mirror for all the other deeply flawed people he encounters.

Even the audience is bamboozled by Jun Wu's control over the narrative. Each MXTX novel has a "false start" in the first chapter. In Scum Villain, we get Luo Binghe's story in PIDW, which Shen Yuan carries as the "truth" about the world and people he encounters when he transmigrates. He comes to understand he was deeply wrong, and by holding the original works narrative as the truth, he failed to see and understand the people around him.

In MDZS, we get a false start in the way the cultivation world has spun the story of the Yiling Laozu and his evil deeds. This whole book is about lies and rumors and how easy it is to join the bandwagon and make someone an outcast.

In TGCF chapter one we get the story of the naive god-pleasing crown prince, who comes to realize he can't save everyone and is cast out of heaven because of his foolishness, a prince who grew up "coddled and pampered" and unable to understand reality. We are told this inability to understand reality, that people are innately evil and will always choose to do evil things, is his flaw that led to his degradation as an outcast God.

This, too, is a false narrative that Xie Lian and the book itself seek to disprove over the next several thousand pages, as we are shown story after story of gods' wrongdoings and evil choices. And where we land at the end is with this: every person we saw make evil selfish choices because it seemed the easier way out, comes to the realization that they can make a good choice, a pivotal choice, and they can make it without much ado or any acknowledgement and it was that simple all along. We see Yin Yu choose right, Pei Ming choose right, Mu Qing choose right, hell we even see Qi Rong do something good in his last moments. And none of it is to any of their benefit, but it was something good. And Xie Lian is proven right. Despite what Jun Wu did to him, despite how much he tried to force him to change, Xie Lian never needed to change his core beliefs (and he literally says that over and over as he bashes his abusers head into a wall at the end there). We see this grand epic scale battle of all the gods against this heavenly tyrant, and it's juxtaposed against Xie Lian running back and forth alone with Yushi Huang's hat to make the rain. If all of the gods had helped back then, couldn't Xianle and Yongan have both been saved?

It was never Xie Lian who was wrong. It was the complacency of those who had the power to do something if they had not written him off as naive. And it was an abuser who controlled the narrative surrounding him for so long, that he drowned in self-doubt before he was finally able to cast off his shackles. He just needed someone to believe in him to help him believe in himself again.

Tldr: I think a lot of people are expecting a standard hero narrative where the hero has one great flaw he overcomes, and that's not the story of TGCF. It's the narrative and everyone upholding it that needed to change, not the protagonist. So it's an odd story to get into in that respect.

[nostalgia-tblr]

loki/william rufus fic, where bill explains that as the second son he has inherited england while big brother bob only got the duchy of normandy, ha ha ha.

[etheraltides]

BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader

Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.

Warning(s): cursing, Rafe being Rafe.

A/N: English isn’t my first language and I did my best to edit it all - so if something escaped me, please, let me know. Feedback is more than welcome .ᐟ

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter two: shopping for disaster ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

Rafe Cameron sat in his car outside Topper's house, the black SUV gleaming under the midday sun. He glanced at his watch for the third time in less than ten minutes, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. Rafe had dismissed all his meetings in the afternoon and a few in the morning to make sure he'd be there in time so she wouldn't have an excuse to back away from it. He hadn't expected her to take her sweet time, but he should have known better.

Rafe should've known you weren't be civil even if you accepted it. Which, to be honest, still surprised him. He was ready to have the door slammed on his face but it seems not even you could say no to some easy money.

His phone buzzed with a text and for a moment, he thought it was saying you'd be down in five, but it was just Topper reminding him about their gym session tomorrow morning, having no idea what his best friend and sister were plotting behind his back. He sighed, shifting in his seat, the leather creaking under his movements in a way that had his annoyance growing. Why was it taking so long for you to get ready? You weren’t going for some fashion show, just to buy stuff downtown.

"Fucking bitch" Rafe muttered under his breath, hitting the horn a couple of times. He was already regretting all of this. The longer he sat there, the more the idea of bringing you as his fake girlfriend felt like a terrible decision. You'd probably jump at every chance to mess with him like you were doing now.

Just as he was about to give up and head home to, hopefully, contact a few clients, he spotted a car pulling up. He hadn't seen this one around before and by the low price, it surely wasn't your family’s. From the rearview mirror, he saw the loser push his aviators up, leaning in to kiss the girl. Rafe's stomach twisted as Topper's sister slid out, your hair tousled and a satisfied smile playing on your lips. Gross.

The sight of her closing the passenger door sent a jolt of irritation through him, mixed with something he couldn't quite identify. You looked carefree, laughing at something the guy said, and for a moment, Rafe felt like an intruder on a private scene he had no right to witness.

"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, slamming closed the door of his truck. Were you hooking up while he was waiting in the sun?

You turned around towards the voice, your smile fading when you caught sight of him. His jaw clenched and his gaze sharp.

"Rafe?" you asked, surprise etching your features as you adjusted the strap of your bag, the casual air of confidence slipping slightly. You hadn't noticed his car when the touron parked. "You're early."

If Topper heard about this, you'd be dammed. You had told him you'd be sleeping over a friend.

"Or you're late.” he replied, crossing his arms, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "What was that all about?"

Your brows furrowed, the glint in your eyes replaced by defensiveness. "I had... plans. Not that it's any of your business."

"Plans? Is that what you call it?" Rafe shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface as he ran a hand through his buzzcut. "You said we'd leave at noon. Did you really think it was okay to keep me waiting while you were off with some random douchebag? I fucking canceled my meetings to be here on time because you wanted to go shopping for shit!''

"As if you care, idiot." you snapped, the challenge in your voice clear. "I'm doing you a favor, remember? You have no right to question me about my plans and he wasn't a douchebag."

"Because I thought you'd have some decency!" he countered, irritation lacing his tone as he struggled to keep his voice down, walking closer to you. He points towards the car was minutes ago. "That asshole didn't even open the door for you when he dropped you off."

"Well, it was better than sit around and wait for you!" you shot back, an eyebrow raised defiantly as you wrapped your hair in a messy bun, feeling too hot from all this arguing in the sun. "It's not like you're the perfect image of being on time."

He shook his head, trying to tamp down the rising anger and something deeper that he always refused to acknowledge. "Let's just go, alright?" he muttered, opening the passenger door for you with an exaggerated sight.

You arched a brow, starring at him while he stood there with the door held open, for you. Whatever. You shook your head, clenching your jaw as you moved to the passenger seat, only to realize a second too late that you needed to change into something… well, better. The door was already slammed closed and Rafe was already on his seat.

Rafe started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. The radio was off and you had your arms crossed over your chest, looking to the window with an almost unnotiaciable pount on your lips. He didn't even give you time to shower and change. How could you go shopping in a t-shirt and jean shorts? Rude. Brute.

"Do you even have a plan for this?" you asked after a few minutes in silence, watching the front of the boutiques.

"Yeah, I figured we'd just wing it" he replied, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Did Topper know you were hanging around with broken tourons now? If not, he'd make sure to tell him later.

"Wing it? You're kidding, right?" you laughed, but the sound had a sharp edge. A superiority that crawled under his skin. "People love to gossip at these events. If we just act like we're a couple, someone will definitely ask questions."

"Fine." he snapped, annoyance dripping in his voice as he parked the car in front of one of the many expensive stores of the island. "What do you suggest then, Mrs. Director of Fake Dates."

He hopped off the car and you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag. You muttered a thank you as he opened the door for you, stopping in the sidewalk.

"Where did you say the wedding was again?" you furrowed your brows, not really remembering this piece of information. "Well, anyway. We need a backstory. Something believable. How about we say we've known each other since we were kids? You're my brother best friend. We had a falling out last summer and decided to give it another shot. Cliché. People eat that shit."

"Italy" He shrugged, following you as you decided which store would be first. You stopped in your tracks, looking at him with arched brows.

"Did you just say Italy as if in Europe?" you blinked, taking a deep breath as you nodded at yourself.

“How many fucking Italies do you know?” He snorted as his head turned to look at you, dumbfounded. You forced a smile, showing him the middle finger.

"Don't worry. It's just for one weekend, I told you." He held open the door of the boutique you stopped in front of, pushing you inside by the shoulder. "Let's keep the details of the story short, alright? The less people know, the better.”

“All right, Mr. Boring. Time to find me a dress that won’t embarrass you.”

Rafe followed you inside, mentally preparing himself for the impending chaos. The store was bright and stylish, filled with an array of dresses and heels. You immediately dove into the racks, pulling out pieces in vibrant colors and flowing fabrics, not sparring him a second glance.

Fuck, he could already feel his pockets hurting.

“Help me out here,” you called over your shoulder, an armful of dresses piled high. “You’ve got baby arms but let’s see if they can handle this.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he picked up a few dresses. “I don’t have baby arms,” he retorted, but the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement. Baby arms, really?

“Are you serious right now?” you teased, glancing back at him with a playful challenge in your eyes. “Maybe I should get you my workout plan instead of a dress.”

He shot you a glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile before he caught himself. “Just get what you need, and I’ll carry it, but don’t expect me to play your little games.”

You grinned, the mischievous light in your eyes making his heart race. Because you were infuriating. “Oh, but you’re going to play. It’s part of the deal.”

You’d already been through several rounds of dresses - each one met with a casual nod or a half-hearted comment from Rafe as he scrolled on his phone. A sleek black gown had caught his eye for a moment, and the deep red one had nearly made him lose his cool, but he managed to keep his reactions under control. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of knowing just how much he was affected. You already were infuriating enough without him feeding your ego.

But then you stepped out in a blue dress. It wasn’t just any blue dress—it clung to you figure like it was made for you, the fabric flowing and shimmering as you walked. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating you curves in a way that made his breath hitch. The neckline dipped just enough to draw the eye, and the slit running from the edge of the dress to the top of you thigh was nothing short of provocative. Rafe felt his heart race, an unfamiliar heat burning in his veins.

He caught himself staring, quickly snapping his gaze back up to your face. Get it together, Cameron. She was annoying, infuriating, and the last person he should be looking at like that. Yet here he was, shifting in his seat, a strange heat building in his chest as you spun around and gave him a look that practically dared him to say something.

“What do you think?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft, as if you already knew the effect the dress was having on him.

He cleared his throat, trying desperately to summon one of his usual sarcastic remarks. “It’s… fine,” he managed, though his voice didn’t carry its usual edge.

You tilted your head, eyes gleaming with amusement as you starred at him through the mirror. “Fine? Just fine?” You pouted and turned around. You stepped closer, and he could feel the air between you grow thicker. “You’re not even looking.”

“I’m looking,” he muttered, his eyes betraying him again by glancing down at your legs before he moved it to his phone. He hated how easy it was for you to get under his skin. Every part of him was screaming to look away, to say something snarky and put you in her place, but for once, he couldn’t find the words. You looked too good. He hated it.

“No witty comeback? Wow, I’m impressed,” you teased, taking another step forward, the fabric of the dress shifting with your movement in a way that only drew his attention more.

He swallowed hard, doing his best to remember why you annoyed him so much. You’re frustrating. You’re a pain. He forced himself to think of every little thing you’d ever done to irritate him, but the sight of you in that dress made it nearly impossible.

“At least you’re as hot as you are annoying,” he finally muttered under his breath, shaking his head in a vain attempt to hide the fact that his pulse was racing.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted with his response. A surprise chuckle escaped your lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Rafe huffed, trying to regain some composure. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, though the slight crack in his voice betrayed him.

“Too much for your business crowd?” you asked, spinning around in front of the mirror, your tone laced with amusement.

“Nah, you’ll fit right in,” he said, though his mind was screaming the opposite. Too much. Way too much. Too much for his own sake.

As you turned back to the mirror, adjusting the slit in the dress, Rafe allowed himself one more glance, feeling a mix of frustration and something else bubble up inside him. He preferred you when you were just annoying.

“I’m not carrying you out when those heels become too much,” he tossed out, trying to steer the conversation back into a safer territory.

You laughed, not missing a beat. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself. But it’s nice to know you’re concerned.”

“Concerned?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “More like I just don’t want you slowing me down.”

But as you disappeared back into the fitting room, he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair in frustration. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little infuriating sister helping him with this. Yet with every passing second, it felt like you were becoming something else entirely. He couldn’t shake the way his gaze lingered on you, how he was beginning to dread the moment you’d step out of his line of sight. When did you turn human and stopped being a complete bitch?

Maybe it’s just been too long since Rafe got laid. Yeah, that was right. Between throwing his dad’s ashes and building a name for himself in the business world, Rafe barely had time to find some release. He’d fix it tonight.

Rafe was already at the counter, signing off on the receipt for all the dresses you’d tried on and decided that would be used in the weekend. His jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the numbers.

“Well, that was fun,” you quipped, an exaggerated smile as you leaned next to him, telling the lady that he’d be carrying all the bags.

Rafe shot you a look, muttering, “Fun? For you, maybe.”

“Come on, Rafe,” you teased, “one of the conditions for me agreeing to this whole thing was that you pay for everything.”

He scoffed, sliding his black card back into his wallet. “Yeah, trust me, I’m well aware. Still doesn’t make it any less painful.”

“Don’t be such a baby. We’re practically made of money,” you said, glancing at the bags filled with dresses for the wedding weekend. “Besides, you should be thanking me. You’re the one getting something out of this.”

“Yeah, I’m getting a headache.”

You rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully - a bit too hard. “You’re so dramatic.”

He offered you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen before shoving half of the bags to you.

As you stepped out into the street, Rafe hesitated. Against his better judgment, he found himself saying, “You hungry?”

You blinked, clearly surprised. “Why, Rafe Cameron, are you actually offering to buy me food after spending all that cash on dresses?”

“Don’t push it,” he grumbled, starting to walk toward a small café nearby. “But since we’re supposed to be convincing everyone at this wedding, we might as well figure out the rules over lunch.”

You followed, a surprised smirk playing on your lips. “Rules? You mean besides the one where you’re my personal ATM for the weekend?”

“Yeah, that one too,” he said dryly as they found a table outside the café, placing the bags down not so gently.

You sat down, menus in hand, and for a brief moment, they both seemed content to sit in silence. Until you broke it.

“Okay, so first rule,” you glanced up from the menu. “No kissing.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Why would think I’d kiss you? I’m not desperate”

“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” you insisted, tone firm. “This is strictly business.”

“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” she insisted, her tone firm. “This is strictly business.”

“Strictly business, huh?” He smirked, shaking his head. “You say that, but you’ll be the one swooning if we get too close.”

You let out a laugh, clearly unimpressed. “Please, Cameron, if you were half as charming as you think you are, you wouldn’t need a fake girlfriend in the first place.”

“Oh, I’m charming enough. You’re just stubborn and blind.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “Admit it - you’re at least a little curious what it’d be like.”

Your smile faltered just for a second before it was replaced with a disgusted face, “Curious? About you? Only to see how much more annoying you can get.”

Rafe’s gaze flickered down to your legs as you shifted in the seat, his jaw tightening as he caught himself. Annoying. Infuriating. But damn if you’re not hot, he thought, biting back a comment. His expression hardened, trying to snap himself out of it. He really needed to get laid, quickly.

You crossed your arms, leaning forward a little. “Second rule: no jealous boyfriend act. I don’t need you scaring off guys at the wedding.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Why would I be jealous? Get over yourself.”

“Yeah, okay,” you leaned back in your chair. “Just remember, this isn’t real. No need for the possessive act.”

“I got it. Fake dating. No jealousy,” he repeated, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“And no trying to use this as an excuse to annoy me,” you added with a pointed look. “Topper won’t be knowing about this. Ever.”

Rafe barked out a laugh. “Annoy you? That’s practically the only fun part of this arrangement.”

“Right, because you’re soooo fun to be around,” you shot back, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Look, just follow my lead, alright? I’ll make sure we don’t look like complete idiots in front of my business associates,” he said, picking up his menu.

“I’m not the one who looks like an idiot,” you muttered under your breath, pretending to read the menu.

He snorted, clearly hearing you, but chose not to respond. The air was filled with silence again as they waited for the waiter.

Finally, you set your menu down and locked eyes with him. “Okay, but one more thing.”

“What now?” he asked, exasperated.

“No flirting with other girls while we’re there. I’m not covering for you if you get caught in some hotel scandal.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, half amused and half annoyed. “Please. I should’ve known you were the jealous type.”

“Oh, sure,” your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just stick to the plan, Rafe. We get in, play our parts, and get out without embarrassing ourselves. You can handle that, right?”

Rafe leaned in slightly, his smirk still in place. “I don’t know, princess. You seem pretty good at embarrassing yourself. Might be contagious.”

You glared at him but couldn’t hold back a small smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re still here, so what does that say about you?”

You opened you mouth to respond, ready say that it made you the kindest person in the world, but the waiter returned just in time to take your orders. As you waited for the waitress to come back with your order, you pulled your phone to scroll, had seen enough of Rafe’s face for the afternoon.

You tried to think of the best way to survive this fake dating arrangement with as little emotional damage as possible for one weekend. Maybe you’d end up killing each other first.

“Can you…” you took a deep breath, nibbling on your bottom lip while you looked around before meeting his gaze. “Not tell Topper about what you’ve seen earlier?”

“The douchebag?” Rafe arched a brow, his jaw tensing as he remembered the encounter, your hair tousled.

“He isn’t a douchebag but yeah, that.” you let out a long sigh, sipping on your juice.

“I’ll think about it. Let’s see how you will do during the wedding, huh.” He offered you one of these smug smirks that made you want to punch his face. Of course he wouldn’t make things easy for you.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @lilithblackkk

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

OK Guys. I get the skepticism esp after the Knuckles disaster, but we also need to keep in mind "this is a trailer that won't spoil literally everything about the movie." ESPECIALLY in regards to GUN. They're not gonna put in the trailer "the military shot a little girl and that's why Shadow is mad so Sonic is going to never work with them ever." That's a great way to get parents to bring their kids to the theater, especially in America. (/s)

It's WAY more effective as a plot twist halfway through, where Sonic thinks that he's finally being accepted onto Earth via working with the government only to find out that they're exploiting him and Shadow the same. I can't guarantee this is gonna happen obviously but it's like a 90% chance just knowing how, like. writing works.

Esp considering the government has not had a good track record in the last two movies, I dunno if they'd do a heel-face turn into "actually they were always right" in the movie where a little girl needs to get shot by the government.

And I'm not gonna say "trust and form a parasocial relationship with a film director" but we should keep in mind that Jeff Fowler got his start working on Shadow's title game and has stated in interviews that he understands how important Shadow's backstory is to his character. Not to mention how the internet has been exploding the last two years with enthusiasm over this story actually getting shown onscreen, enough that a studio would fucking notice at the very least that this is what the people want. I can't guarantee they'll actually listen, but saying that they're absolutely not because "Sonic was in a GUN helicopter in the trailer" is insane. Especially with the fact that GUN is not with Sonic when he goes to Eggman. We just see Team Sonic alone meeting with Stone, and I will bet you it's because there's no way in hell GUN would let them near him, what with the Robotnik connections to the ARK.

Also the Gerald thing is rather worrying, esp with the lack of shit they gave Pachacamac in the miniseries, but honestly I think that was just a marketing push of "Jim Carrey will be playing TWO characters!!!" Considering he's only seen in one trailer scene AT the ARK (where all of Gerald's technology was and, more importantly, where the Eclipse cannon he needs someone to set off is) AND we know from movie 2's credits scene that there was a fifty-year timeskip, I severely doubt that's the real Gerald who's just completely unaffected by his granddaughter being murdered.

And ofc there's things to be concerned about in the trailer. The lack of Rouge for instance– I obviously keep posting my theory that Krysten Ritter's character will be her undercover but the fact we don't know how much time she'd actually have with Shadow, if at ALL, is worrying. The fact that Rouge might not be here period. The weird pacing of the Knuckles show and the fear that could bleed over into the movie. But there's also stuff to get excited about– the epic fight scene choreography, the brief glimpse we got of Maria and Shadow's bond. Reeves's voice actually fits Shadow and at least from what the trailer showed us it looks like the Green Hills storyline is taking a backseat to the action and mystery of Project Shadow.

tl;dr guys calm down for like five minutes. if the movie sucks in december we can riot then. right now let's just band together against mufasa

[jyoongim]

Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!

This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!

⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!

—————————————————————————————

No one suspected a thing.

You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.

Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”

And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.

Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.

Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.

————————————————————————————

You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!

Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.

At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it

But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.

Especially Alastor.

Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.

Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.

A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.

Vox.

You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”

”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.

You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 

You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”

Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 

Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.

You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”

The phone call ended and you were in tears.

You didn’t want to go back. 

You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 

You liked the friends you had made here.

You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.

————————————————————————

“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.

You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.

You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.

”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”

You fiddled with your hands.

”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”

Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.

”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”

You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.

Of Vox and his plan.

The deal between you and Vox.

The reason you came to the hotel.

Everything.

”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!

Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.

Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.

The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.

His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.

 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.

And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.

However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.

You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.

”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.

”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.

He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him

He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”

You wiped at your eyes “how so?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.

He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 

He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.

”I know just the thing hehehe”

————————————————————————————

You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.

“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.

Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.

”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.

Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.

”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.

“I know you will baby” 

He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.

Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.

”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 

“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”

His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.

You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.

”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.

Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.

”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.

”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”

Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.

The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 

“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”

Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.

Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.

In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.

Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.

Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.

”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”

[neoraso]

talk to me in your love language | lmk

idol!mark x non!idol reader (him being an idol is not part of the plot at all, it's just for context) wc: ~2.8k warnings: i truthfully do not know how it became suggestive it was supposed to be sweet, still only like pg-13, lots of kissing and suggestive comments but no actual smut.

it really was nothing big, so why was your heart racing? this was absolutely not the first time you’ve prepared gifts for mark, but you never got over the giddiness that came with waiting for him to come home. whenever you made these small gestures, he always made sure to let you know how thankful he was, how special you were to him, but even still, sometimes you felt like it wasn’t enough. it was hard to say how you felt out loud, so you relied on writing it in letters, sometimes with stickers or little doodles. flowers and his favorite snacks, printed pictures of the two of you were the usual pairings. these gifts were given sporadically and usually for no reason other than you felt a surge of love that had to come out somehow.

oh well, it didn’t matter now because you could already hear the keypad being pressed as the front door opened, followed by an immediate calling out for you. it was nearing 8 p.m. and he had left at 9 o’clock this morning so, as usual, he had had an exhausting day. with an inward sigh, you hoped this would cheer him up. he had told you on occasion that no matter how much he worked, how little he slept, or how defeated he felt, seeing and being with you made everything worth it. now that he had you, there was no way he could live without you. of course, you felt the same and took opportunities like this to prove it.

“babe?” you could tell he hadn’t even gotten his shoes off or put his bag down before half shouting again, “baby? are you home?”

you busied yourself grabbing his gift from the drawer of your bedside table before responding as you exited the bedroom.

“yes sir. here i am.” you replied, dramatically spreading your arms with a sweet grin. you were sure you’d never get tired of looking at him and how his face lights up with a smile that spreads slowly when he sees you.

shaking his head to move his bangs out of his eyes, he immediately walked towards you, hands drawn to your hips and smiling oh so sincerely down at you.

“how’s my girl?” he said lowly, sliding his hands up and down your sides. “you gonna give me a kiss or what? been waiting all day.”

already flustered even after being with him so long, sometimes he caught you off guard with how bold he could be now. he had certainly grown from the bashful, wide-eyed boy you knew him as years ago. what’s worse is half the time he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

“i’m good…” you dragged out the words trying to ignore how close his mouth was to yours. his eyes were trained on your lips and you knew he was only half paying attention.

you could barely keep it together when his nose touched yours and his mouth slid over your slightly parted lips. just before he could have his way with you, you spoke against him.

“i got you something…”

at this, his eyes widened and he pulled away to see what you were talking about, his gaze trailed down to your right hand landing on the small jewelry box in your palm.

“what’s this? it’s not my birthday. wait- is it?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how startled he was. “no, it’s not your birthday- or any other occasion, don’t worry. no occasion other than just another day i wanted to say i love you.”

he had still been holding your waist but now reached up to take the box from you before looking back into your eyes with a glint of something in his own that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“let me know if it fits you or you don’t like it and i can return it…” suddenly self-conscious, you started twisting the ring he had given you on your one year anniversary around your finger. it had become a habit when you were nervous to fidget with the band engraved with his initial. he picked up on this as well, but instead of commenting he simply opened the box carefully. a smile instantly cut across his face when he figured out what was engraved on the pendant of the thin, shiny silver bracelet. then you could also tell that he noticed the small note attached to the inside of the lid.

day one of my forever <3

“is this the date of when i actually like finally for real asked you to be my girlfriend?” he said through the grin that had only widened after looking at your expectant expression. as obsessed and endeared by him as you were, he was sure he was at least eight times more enamored with you. you let out a laugh at his description, nodding to confirm.

“yeah i thought, maybe you should have something of us too. obviously something not too flashy because… you know. but i just thought it would be cute. i can get the chain adjusted if it’s too short or-“

he cut you off with a kiss to your cheek, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your hair when he had you close enough.

“it’s perfect baby. thank you so much…” he trailed off, swaying with you in his arms (still in the doorway.) after a couple minutes, he breathed in slowly and deeply before speaking again.

“i feel like you’re always doing these things for me, and i can never reciprocate.” you could’ve sworn his voice cracked at the end of his sentence which alarmed you because he was almost never choked up and especially not over a bracelet. instead of pulling away to look at him (because you knew he probably wouldn’t let you if he was actually crying) you patted his back, holding him tight too.

“aw baby,” you reassured him, “i don’t do this for anything in return. this is just how i show my love. i love you unconditionally anddon’t expect anything from you on top of everything you already do for me.” now you did pull away, slightly pushing him backwards by his chest. you only briefly acknowledged how his eyes were just a bit shinier than normal and instead pulled his face to yours with both hands now that they were free.

kissing him in between phrases you tried to tell him how you felt.

“you’re so sweet to me,”

“always cheering me up,”

“making sure i get good sleep, if i’ve taken my vitamins,” he was chasing your mouth at this point, nearly drunk from how much affection was pouring out of you.

“hugging me~”

“holding me~”

“making me laugh~”

“and, you give me gifts too.” with a final kiss you stood back and patted his chest and continued, “so basically, don’t feel bad. you just express it differently. and i’ve never doubted your love. not even once. okay?”

he hid his face in your neck and pressed his lips against the skin there, dragging his mouth back and forth making you shiver and thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“okay… well i really do love it. and i love you,” he kissed your neck and continued as his lips ghosted upwards towards your ear, “you know i’d do anything for you don’t you?”

“yes…i do…” your answer was airy as you could only whisper trying to keep your knees from buckling with how close he was. obviously, he was unaware of the effect he was having on you because he keptgoing, moving upwards and inhaling audibly before kissing your cheek, finally ghosting over the corner of your mouth until pressing against your lips full on. you responded immediately, giving in to his original request (a mutually beneficial one).

surprisingly, he pulled away before you, just far enough that you could look into his eyes but still feel his warm breath on your face.

“you know i keep everything you give me. every letter, the movie tickets from our dates, i even still have that little shell you found at the beach and gave to me just because it was pretty.” now he was smiling again, petting your hair and straightening his posture upwards so his mouth was level with your forehead, leaving yet another kiss there. you hadn’t said anything to his confession, stunned that things you thought were insignificant meant so much to him. your lack of response didn’t faze him because he knew what you meant to say just from the way you looked up at him.

“come on, help me put this on then we can get some food, i’m starving.”

“you didn’t eat?” you asked him with a frown, now grabbing the fabric of his hoodie at his wrists that were hanging onto your shoulders.

instead of answering right away, he just straightened his arms more, starting to step forward forcing you to walk backwards, you could only laugh a bit at how you both had to waddle all the way to the couch.

“nah, i ate earlier today but i left before the guys did so i could see you.” he belatedly replied, looking a bit too happy with his decision even in the face of your glare (even though he had tried to explain to you that it was more adorable than menacing). you spared him the lecture about taking care of himself because all that mattered now was that he was here, and you could take care of him all you wanted.

he flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, swiftly pulling you down too with the grip he had on you. you scooted back, getting more comfortable when he guided your legs over his lap throwing his head over the back of the sofa with his eyes closed. you could see the exhaustion in his face and let out a small breath too, causing him to open one eye to check on you only to find you looking back at him fondly. you reached towards his hand that was still grasping the jewelry box, but he seemed to think that you meant to hold his hand because he grabbed your fingers as soon as they touched the cool leather of the box.

“i was trying to help you put this on, silly.”

“oh” was all he could say, the tips of his ears red as he tried to calm his heart down, letting go of the gift and wondering if it was always going to be this nerve-wracking being around you.

he hoped so.

he was still looking at you with visible  heart eyes by the time you finished securing the bracelet around his wrist. before you removed your left hand, he softly held your fingers over his palm, admiring the ring on your middle finger.

“you wear this every day huh?” he said, chest puffing with pride at his girl wearing a ring with his name. he only saw your nod out of the corner of his eye before getting lost back in thought. he began stroking the finger next to it, your ring finger. he took a pause, with his eyes still fixed on your hand. “there’ll be a ring here next, i promise.”

you didn’t even have a chance to say anything before he leaned over to leave a quick kiss on your lips before continuing like nothing had happened. the tension dissipated just as easily as he had built it up, giving you major whiplash (which actually was nothing new with him).

“i’m thinking chicken, whatchu want girl?” he was teasing you now, squeezing the flesh of your exposed thigh, his bracelet cool against your skin. his other hand maneuvered his phone out of his pocket. your mind was still replaying his words from just a second ago, so you responded dazedly,

“whatever you want baby.” you replied simply, truly just wanting him to eat at all.

“aw, i have everything i want but i would also like some fried chicken.” he replied looking all too pleased with himself.

“how romantic.” you said flippantly, adjusting your position onto your knees to look at his phone screen for the menu. after about 30 seconds you realized he was staring at you again. when you turned your head to face him, he grinned as if this was his plan all along.

“hi.” he said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. it was your turn to be flustered now as you could feel your face heating up, but you still didn’t want to look away.

“hello...”

he looked at you for a moment.

“you’re so pretty, did you know that?”

he says this often, and still, it never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

“my boyfriend has told me that once or twice…”

“hm, seems like your boyfriend is slacking, what ever could he do to show you how special you are?” he played right along.

“well, he could kiss me right now for starters…”

“that’s a simple enough request.” he was already leaning in with his nose brushing yours. you met him there, parting your lips when he lightly grabbed your cheeks. he hastily slid his tongue in and pressed you impossibly close, practically panting into your mouth when you reciprocated just as eagerly. his eyes were still closed and his chest was rising and falling just a tad heavier than usual when you pulled away from him.

this only lasted for five seconds before he was already guiding you towards his face by the back of your neck so you had to talk against his mouth.

“my boyfriend…allllways shows me how pretty and special i am to him.” you kissed him once, “i have no complaints.” another kiss “love him more than he knows.” a final kiss to his lips, another on the beauty mark on each of his cheeks and a final one to his nose before attempting to sit back up.

this whole time you had been hovering over him sideways, only being held up by your hand on his knee. it was such an awkward position you tried to return to your original arrangement but he refused, tugging you closer and manipulating your hips until you were sat with your back on his chest.

“there we go, now you can help me order.” he rested his cheek on your head and turned his face a bit to kiss you there several times.

“you know what i like baby, i trust you to order.”

“yeah i do know what you like, i could show you if you want…” you couldn’t see him but you know he was smirking and raising his eyebrows suggestively like he always did when he tried to start something.

“can you order the food first and then show me?”

“can you kiss me again?”

“mark.”

“ok my bad, my bad.” finally paying for the food he all but threw his phone to the side and almost instantaneously flipping you (as delicately as possible) with your back to the couch, hovering over you.

“wow, somebody is excited.” you teased before holding in your breath when he put his face in your neck, immediately mouthing at it.

“wanted to be with my girl allll day, you gonna deny me of it?” he leaned back up over you, with a pleading look on his face. he knew if you didn’t really want his affection, you’d say it, so it was a half-rhetorical question.

“no, no, carry on cutie pie”

he groaned at this making you giggle, knowing how calling him cute makes him want to prove something. it was a fun trick you liked to pull out every once in a while.

“ugh dude, you’re killing the moment right now, we were having a moment.”

you opted to trail your finger along the neckline of his hoodie and lifting your knee upwards so it brushed the inside of his thigh. his expression was one of slight panic which always satisfied you when you got to have your moments.

“so sorry baby, let’s go have a moment anywhere but this couch my neck is already getting tweaked i can feel it.”

with your green light, he got impatient all over again. he tugged you up off the couch with him, practically vibrating with anticipation. he couldn’t even wait to kiss you again, eagerly pressing his lips to yours once you got on your feet.

“i really do love the gift baby, and i love you, can’t wait to wear it everywhere. love you so much…” he was whispering against your mouth between each kiss, grabbing at your sides.

he had a tendency to be insatiable.

you had tangled your fingers in his hair in his frenzy and now worked to smooth down the strands. cooing at him,

“aw i love you too, you’re so sweet baby, and handsome, and if i recall correctly, were just offering to show me something…” you brought him back to the task at hand and he was quick with his response, nudging you towards the bedroom.

“wayyy ahead of you.”

the food could wait.

[latin5mamii]

Angel - Jude Bellingham

warnings: suggestive but not smut (not yet😔) (1,018 words)

genre: childhood best friends to lovers

summary:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything?

author's note: I know, I’ve left you hanging with the suspense again, but I promise I’m already working on the next chapter! If you have any plot twist suggestions, I’d love to hear them🤍. I’m currently working on this serie, plus two one-shots ( kyky and judey). I’ll be publishing them asap. Enjoy and let me know if you like where this is going🤍! last chapter

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆

Of course, you hadn’t forgotten the kiss—or rather, the kisses—from that morning. The memory was still as vivid as if it had happened mere hours ago. Those lips on yours, the warmth of his body so close, the intensity in his eyes that seemed to pierce right through you, it was all too real, too vivid to let go. That memory is what keeps you awake at night, tossing and turning with thoughts too tangled to bring you peace.

Even now, as you sit next to him in the car, the soft lights from the street illuminating his face, you can't help but think about it. How could you not, when his presence is a constant reminder of every detail from that morning?

The door closes behind you, his body still close to yours. The drive back had been silent, yet the tension between you had only grown, twisting into a knot of anxiety in your stomach.

If you hadn’t felt the touch of his lips on yours, would you still crave him as much as you do now?

He's still behind you, and every fiber of your being wants to turn around, to see what will happen next. But you’re scared—scared of what? Let’s be honest, you can’t be afraid of ruining your friendship because that’s already happened. It happened the moment you saw each other again after so long, even before that kiss. Are you afraid that if you cross that line, there’ll be no going back? Probably.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now,” his words from earlier echo in your mind. But that’s exactly what you’re doing. And you hate yourself for it.

"Angel." His voice startles you, breaking the silence that had grown heavy, almost suffocating. His voice, so soft yet somehow deep and commanding, and that accent—God.

"You’re thinking about something," he says, placing a hand on your shoulder.You can feel the heat of his touch seeping through your clothes, and it makes your heart race even faster. You want to say something, to break the tension that has been building between you, but the words are stuck in your throat.

“I’m not.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and you instantly regret it.

Jude raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure?”

You nod shyly, unable to meet his eyes, and you can feel your face heating up.

"Alright then," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. He steps back, turning away from you, and starts walking toward the hallway.

Your heart drops as you watch him go. “Where are you going?” you blurt out, the question escaping before you can think it through.

He pauses, glancing back at you with that same teasing smirk. “I’m going to bed,” he says casually, as if nothing’s out of the ordinary. “Why? You wanna come?”

Your breath catches, and you feel your pulse quicken at the implication in his words. Jude’s eyes lock onto yours, the playful gleam in them making it impossible to look away.

For a moment, you’re both frozen in place, the air thick with the tension that’s been building all evening. You don’t know how to respond, torn between the pull of his offer and the fear of what it might mean if you accept.

“What happens if I say yes?” The words slip out before you can stop them, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude’s smirk deepens, and he takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Why don’t you find out?” he murmurs, the challenge hanging in the air between you.

And then, without waiting for a response, he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing softly as he heads down the hallway. He doesn’t look back, leaving you standing there, alone with your thoughts and the heavy silence he’s left behind.

The weight of the decision presses down on you as you watch him disappear into his room. The door doesn’t close all the way, left slightly ajar, as if to give you the option. It’s an invitation, one that sets your mind spinning.

The door to Jude’s room remains slightly ajar, leaving you with an open invitation. You stand there for a moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on you, as if the silence in the house has taken on a tangible form. The thought of following him is both thrilling and terrifying.

With a deep breath, you turn away from the hallway and head to your own room. You need to distract yourself, to process what just happened. You change into comfortable clothes, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your mind, but the image of Jude’s smirk and the intensity of his eyes won’t leave you.

Lying in bed, you stare up at the ceiling, replaying the evening’s events over and over. You think about that morning, the kisses that still linger in your memory, the way his touch made you feel. And now, his invitation, something that you both want and deny.

As the minutes tick by, the tension grows unbearable. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position. Should you go to him?

But you can’t take it any longer. You slip out of bed, your heart pounding with every step you take towards Jude’s room. You walk down the hallway, the quiet of the house almost amplifying your nervousness. When you reach his door, you take another deep breath and push it open.

The room’s dimly lit, his shadow reflecting on the wall. He’s lying in bed, propped up on his elbows, watching you move towards him. The sight of him there, so relaxed, only heightens your anxiety.

You move cautiously towards the bed,a soft smile playing on your lips. When you finally sit down, you can feel the mattress shift under your weight, and Jude’s eyes follow your every movement.

“I knew you’d show up,” he says. You don’t turn to face him, but you can almost picture the smirk on his lips. To him, you were an open book, and he was always one page ahead.

“What are you scared about?” He shifts closer, the space between you diminishing with each movement.

You look at him, your breath catching in your throat. “I’m not scared,” you reply, though your voice betrays you, quivering slightly.

Jude’s gaze remains locked on yours, the playful glint in his eyes giving way to something more intense. “Then why are you hesitating?” he murmurs, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. The touch sends a shiver down your spine.

You can feel the heat from his body, the way his breath mingles with yours, each movement bringing you closer to a precipice you’re not sure you’re ready to cross.

“Maybe I’m just not sure what comes next,” you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jude’s lips curve into a knowing smile, and he leans in, his face dangerously close to yours. “Let’s find out,” he says softly. “Let’s see who falls first, yeah?”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

[writteninkat]

Late Night Sparring | Bakugou x Reader

synopsis: To prove a point, you decide to invite Hero Dynamight to a late night spar. He kept running his mouth about how you're easy to beat, so you decide to let him put his money where his mouth is at. Plot twist? You've decided you're going to win this game. By all means possible.

w/c: 2.2k

warnings: smut, not proofread!!! & just katsuki being turned into a moany, whiny lil bitch

a/n: i remembered that trend where the girlies wore spiderman costumes n i thought it was hot

navigation

An explosion manifests right by your face, your countless hero trainings allowing you to dodge it just in time. "Eat shit!" Katsuki yells, right above you.

You quickly push yourself off the ground, using your quirk to manifest a Katana, it's blade glowing red. You jump from the spot just in time as the blond reaches it.

"Why do you keep talking crap about me, Dynamight? I haven't done shit to you!" You yell, slashing diagonally towards him, the red striped energy moving towards him in light speed.

Being one of the best heroes out there, he easily dodges your attack. "What's wrong with calling the weak, weak?" He smirks, angling his hand so his palm is pointed directly at you. "Without thay stupid blade of yours, you're nothing!"

You watch his palm glow orange.

Gritting your molars, you squeeze the handle of your katana before letting go. Everything seems to happen in slow motion—your blade falls from your grasp, Katsuki's eyes following its movements as his explosion continues to manifest in his palm, you leaping towards him, your steps fast as you reach him before he can blink.

You grab onto his palm, using your mana to overpower his. Before any of you can react, an explosion so powerful occurs between both of your palms, sending the both of you flying in opposite directions.

As you squint through the cloud of dust, Katsuki has already positioned himself behind you, leaping as he takes your wrists, placing them above your head as he pushes you to the ground.

"Like I said." Katsuki chuckles, a menacing smile stretched across his face. "Eat shit."

Your chest presses against the ground as you try to catch your breath. You turn your head to the side, glaring the the blond.

Something shifts in the hero's gaze. His usually bright and piercing eyes have darkened. His cheeks flushing as his brows furrow—he seems confused.

"What did I ever do to you?" You spit, trying to get him to let go of your wrists, but to no avail.

Katsuki growls, leaning down at you. You freeze as you feel his nose tickling the shell of your ear. "Strawberries." He mutters, going lower to the crook of your neck. His lips brush against your sensitive skin, causing you to shiver. "You smell like strawberries."

Then, he does something you never expected him to do.

He licks you.

"Taste like 'em too."

Your face is hot—fuck it, your entire body is hot and your core is pulsing.

If I play my cards correctly right now, I may just win this spar.

"Yeah?" You smile, "My bodywash is strawberries and cream scented." You lift your head up, trying to move your lips as close to his ear as you can. "And my feminine wash is entirely different." Katsuki freezes. "Want a taste?"

You can feel your heart about to burst out of your chest in worry. This plan may work, but given how the foul-mouthed hero talks about you, there's a greater chance of it exploding in your face.

You swallow nervously, about to laugh awkwardly and take it all back in the form of a joke, but you feel something behind you. Something hard is prodding against your cheeks and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand what it is.

"You've been pissing me off since the day you were announced as a hero." He grits, one hand still keeping your wrists together while the other explores your shoulder, down the side of your torso, stopping at your waist.

"Trotting around in the skin-tight suit." He grips on your suit, scrunching it. "You wanna know why you piss me off so much?"

You hold your breath, the anticipation incredibly thick in the air.

"You show off this body made for sin, when it's supposed to be mine." He slowly pulls on your suit, the stretchable material an inch away from giving up. "And you look at me with this stupid look. As if telling me I can't do shit about it."

A ripping sound echoes throught the arena the two of you have rented for the night. "You're supposed to be mine." He inserts his hand through the hole he's made on the side of your suit, his fingers snaking their way down the lower part of your stomach.

"Dynamight-"

Katsuki tuts, "I know what you call me in your head." He whispers, lightning bolts striking down your spine.

"K-Katsuki." His fingers press on your clit, a moan blossoming from your chest.

"That's it. Say my name again." Katsuki sucks on the side of your neck as you continue to moan out his name. His fingers steadily draw lazy circles around your clit, making your thighs squeeze together and your hips move on their own.

I can't be the only one about to break apart right now.

You push your hips back, grinding your ass against the hard tent in his pants.

Fuck that's big.

You gasp for air, convinced the blond's fingers have their own quirk to make women fall on their knees and call him daddy.

"If I had know you'd be this much of a slut for me," Katsuki pulls away, making you whine for more. "I should have done this at the gala."

Out of breath, you try to look at him the best you can.

"What...What gala?"

Katsuki lets go of your wrists, spinning you around as he parts your thighs. He raises a brow, doubtful that you've forgotten such an important event.

"The heros gala." He explains, pissed it isn't the first thing that comes to your mind.

You furrow your brows in confusion, as his furrows in annoyance. He presses his thumb against your center and the tension on your face melts away as you throw your head back.

"You were walkin' around with a tight ass dress. It's fuckin' slit reached yer hip, baby." He pinches on your suit, pulling it swiftly. That area gives away almost immediately. Despite this suit being made to withstand extreme environments due to your job, it's like paper to Katsuki.

You'll have to talk to your developer about this.

"You were basically beggin' to be fucked." He moves his hand towards your mouth, forcefully pushing his fingers in between your lips, playing with your tongue.

"Mmmf mmmf! Mmm-mmmmhhmm!"

Katsuki raises a brow, chuckling at how incredibly pathetic you look right now. He pulls his hand away, giving you the chance to speak.

"I said-" You gasp, "No-no need... To get it wet."

Katsuki's expression drops to stone as his gaze drop to your cunt. Slowly, he presses his fingers against your folds, growling at the wet, slimy feeling.

Kaysuki's lips stretches into a smile, his fingers making quick work at undoing his belt. "Then that means there'll be no need for prep, huh?"

Before you could get any word out of your mouth, Katsuki pushes his cock inside you, his girth making it hard for you to breath. Your hands reach his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you try to quickly adjust for him.

"'Can feel your cunt making room for me. You like my dick that much?" He taunts, his hips flexing.

He pulls your hips up, your upper back and head dragging against the ground as Katsuki takes you right then and there. Your tits move with every thrust he makes, and the tip of his cock brushing against such a sensitive area inside you, you can't help but whimper and whine in pleasure.

"Yeah that's right. Fuckin' come for me, slut." His fingers make contact with your clit, massaging it roughly. Your orgasm is being forced out of you much quickly than you determined.

Fuck, he feels so good.

If you cum now, does that mean you lose?

You look up at his vermilion orbs, he looks as though he's trying to hold back himself. You smile cockily, pissing him off. In retaliation, Katsuki pinches your clit, immediately pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck!" You cry out, waves upon waves of your orgasm crashing over you as your body shakes in pleasure. "Katsuki!" You breathe out, feeling him pump once, twice- warmth fills you from within as he lets out a deep breath.

"Fuck." Katsuki pulls out, watching his load leak out of you. "Hope you're on the pill, cause I'll be fucking this pussy every night before bed from now on."

You glare at him, lifiting the upper half of upur body up by your elbows. "Whatever happened to me pissing you the fuck off?"

"People will know you're mine." He eyes at something on the side of your neck, making you reach for it. As your fingers make contact, pain immediately shoots from the spot. "And they'll know not to fuck with you."

He looks at you one last time, his hair sticking to his forehead, his cheeks and ears flushed, his gaze carries such a heavy expression—the same kind one has when they're looking at beatiful artwork.

"Congrats on proving me right, once again." He smiles, leaning in to you, probably to rub it in. But that's a mistake he'll come to regret in a few moments.

You grab him by the neck, hooking your leg with his and at the same time, your leg pulls on his as you push his shoulder back, quickly switching your positions.

"Fuck no." You spit, lifting yourself, you line your cunt to his dick.

"Wait, not yet-" He starts but immediately swallows his words as your walls swallow him like dinner. You lift yourself up once again, before slamming back down.

"Fuck! Y/n! Hold on a sec-!"

You don't listen, and you don't stop. Your hips move with vigour as you plant your hands on his chest, trying to keep your balance.

Katsuki moans loudly from underneath you, his cheeks coloured deep red as his eyes roll back. "Fuck! Fuck!" He cries, gripping on your hips but you flick his hands away, your hips moving even faster.

"Wait! Fuck!" Are the last words that leave his lips before you feel his body tremble beneath you. Familiar hot liquid fills you once more, the corners of your lips twitching into a smile.

Beneath you, Katsuki is a trembling, babbling mess.

"Tell me who won between us?" You taunt, moving forward to press light kisses against his jaw.

"M-Me! Fuck you, I win!" He seems to have gathered himself enough to return to glaring at you.

We can fix that.

You move your hips in circles, grounding yourself on him, making sure your clit brushes against his bush. "Wrong." You mutter in his ear as his hands return to your hips, gripping on them.

"Y/n! Y/n please-!"

"Tell me the right answer, Katsuki. Or I'll have you cumming again and again."

You grind your hips against him, smiling at the sight of this grown man, such a strong hero, falling apart beneath you.

"Who won?"

"You! You! Fuck!" He cries, his fingernails digging into your skin and his palms heating with every second it's in contact with you.

You bite down on your lower lip, the pain bringing out a different kind of pleasure as you continue rocking your hips. Your fingers play with your overstimulated cunt, your head thrown back as the orgasm makes itself known.

"Hold on, Y/n! This bad! This is very- fuck! Aah! Aaaah!" Katsuki's babbles fill the arena as he cums inside you, his dick twitching and body trembling.

Your orgasm takes you for a moment, you begin to mistake heaven for the blond hero's cock. A smile is stretched across your lips as it subsides—but Katsuki continues cumming. Even as his load drips out, you can still feel him releasing.

You start to lift yourself off, but his palms keep you right where you are.

"You fucking did this to me." He glares, "You stay put and let me f-finish."

You smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his lips. Katsuki grabs onto the back of your head, pulling you towards him as he takes your mouth like a man starved. This has your core pulsing once more, squeezing him.

"Fuck!" He yells out, making you chuckle.

"Your fault."

Your jaw falls at the headline of the news post you're reading. 'Hero Dynamight and Hero Red caught canoodling in the Hero Arena last night!'

You turn to the side, debating whether or not you should ruin the blond's entire day by letting him read this. The two of you opted to take the nearest apartment from the arena—which was his.

Just as you're about to put your phone away, his voice makes you jump. "Canoodling? Which idiot wrote this?" He squints, taking the phone from your hand as he inspects the picture. In it was the both of you, the part when it was Katsuki on top of you. Your suit wasn't ripped yet and if you disregard the headline, it just looks like a hero has the other pinned down.

"Kirishima that fuckass." He sneers, making you grab your phone.

"How'd you know?!"

Katsuki simply points at the lower corner where you can see a red spike. At the same time, his phone vibrates in the night stand. He grabs and opens it to see Eijirou has sent him a selfie and in the upper right corner, was the both of you.

The picture came with a message.

"Had fun canoodling?"

You press your lips together, attempting to stop a laugh as Katsuki's phone screen cracks from the pressure his hand is giving.

"He's dead."

[felikatze]

THE ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY: THE CRACK HEADCANON THAT RUINED ME FOREVER

HI. you might know me as the kingphie divorce guy. or as the guy who wrote the 6k ludonarrative essay. Today i am going to introduce to YOU @the-bitter-ocean's fantabulous ISLANDER EUPHRASIE THEORY!!!

DISCLAIMER

This post contains SPOILERS for ALL of In Stars and Time. INCLUDING THE ACT 6 SECRET!!

You have been warned.

ALSO!!!!

The original headcanon/theory is VERY MUCH Ocean's fantastic work! I am merely rehashing all the arguments for it that have been laid out across various chats into one cohesive thing people can look at. Also citations! Who doesn't love those.

WHAT IS IT?

Well, it's quite simple. It's the theory that Euphrasie, love of my life and Head Housemaiden of Dormont, is from the forgotten island, same as Siffrin and the King.

(Yes, this is why divorce AU exists.)

WHY DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE THIS?

Quite a lot of reasons, actually.

It's really funny

Let us begin with: the basics.

SUPERFLOUS AESTHETIC DETAIL

HAIR COLOR

This is Euphrasie. She's very pretty. I love her.

You might notice several things about her, like her fantabulous white hair.

Well. What other characters have white hair?

You have guessed correctly. The ONLY OTHER white haired characters with actual artwork are Siffrin and the King, both from The Island The World Forgot. Thus we can assume that it's a typical hair color for islanders. Makes it stand out very much that Euphie also has it.

(What about the beautiful one- sh sh sh he's blonde. He's blonde.) (Well, actually, considering that they are the only one who acknowledges that Vaugardians are also weird, what if he's from the island as well? Checkmate atheists.)

EYELASHES

(EDIT!!!!! FINALLY PUTTING THIS ON THE MAIN POST!!!

Turns out I was incorrect in this. Some characters (Mira, Isa) also have eyelashes on SOME portraits. The mentioned chars r still notable for Always Having Em, + the Loop lashes are like, literally intended as plot twist foreshadowing, but, hey.

That's what you get for writing essays at 1am.

IN RETURN!!! Someone pointed out to me [i forgot who sorry] that Euphrasie's capelet.... has stars on it!! It's speckled like the starry sky!! Now isn't that a neat coinkydink.)

(Original text left up because I respect my past self's artistic vision. And his lunacy.)

Correct. Eyelashes.

Going back to our portrait of Euphie, she is drawn with precisely three eyelashes. Why is this notable? Because Siffrin and Loop are.

So much so, that being drawn with three eyelashes, is specifically an element of foreshadowing to Loop's true identity.

(squints at character portraits) literally no characters besides Siffrin, Loop, and Euphrasie have eyelashes? Oh my god. What? Nobody has eyelashes? What the fuck? (okay, some moments later: Mirabelle has eyelashes in some battle artwork, but these three are the only ones specifically with eyelashes in dialogue portraits, which is still incredibly odd.)

SPEAKING HABITS

(EDIT!!! Another Point that is Kind Of Off, in that other characters [e.g. Odile] also do this occasionally. Again, keeping the text for my creative vision.

In return I get to inform you that the King makes the "not so bright, Bright One" pun TWICE in different loops, thus implying the King likes puns. Take this as you will. That's been my psychic damage, buhbyeeee~)

Hey, so, you know when you talk to people in Dormont, a lot of the NPCS will have a nametag that just says "[something] One" right? Daydreaming One, Castle-Loving One, Beautiful One?

And I've seen people wonder, are these titles? Nicknames?

And I bring you this: Siffrin addresses these people with these epithets in his head, because they have no fucking clue what anyone's name is.

So Siffrin just naturally lapses into this style of nicknaming strangers.

Which two other people also do.

Bright one... ...... Do you remember? Traveling one! Are you done talking with your companions? Yes, wonderful, wonderful!

Funny little tidbit that these three characters all speak alike isn't it :)

Okay. With aesthetics out of the way, let's move onto the next tier of this iceberg:

THE MECHANICS OF FORGETTING AND BEING FORGOTTEN

I realize in the process of writing that we must outline the nature of the curse. What gets forgotten and what gets to stay?

The particularity that's important to us right now is: what people get forgotten?

All evidence points toward this: an entire person is only forgotten if they were physically present on the island when it vanished.

I'm pulling up two example cases to prove it: Siffrin and the Daydreaming One.

The thing with Siffrin is: we know he witnessed the exact moment the island vanished. And, very notably, Siffrin was in a boat.

You can get the dialogue that proves this only in ACT 2 in a secret room most people don't find on their first playthroughs, which is both very funny and very evil. Here's the dialogue.

Siffrin: "I ran away from home once!" [...] Siffrin: "And so I took our boat! Got to the beach, rowed away from the shore a bit. I was going to come back right away, I just wanted to scare my parents a bit!" [...]

Siffrin: "I started to row back towards the shore... And then, I... I... ..." Isabeau: ... Sif? Siffrin: (Woah! What?) "Um, yes?" Isabeau: Um... You were telling us how you ran away from home? Siffrin: "I... was?" Odile: You... Were. Bonnie: DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT WHILE TALKING ABOUT IT?!?

Siffrin is from the island, but was not physically present when it disappeared. This resulted in Siffrin forgetting their entire identity, including given name and spoken/written language.

Additionally, this is confirmed via Word of God to be the exact moment the island disappeared, so here's proof I'm not reading into it:

Shoutout to bibliomaniac's insane google spreadsheet for the easily searchable screenshot. god bless. Brinny, ily.

On the other hand, with the Daydreaming One, we have proof of a person who is not originally from the island, but was physically on it at the time of disappearance.

Siffrin: "Don't you have a sister?" Daydreaming One: I... I don't? I just said I'm an only child, silly!

(For her to forget someone like her sister, so easily... Her sister must've traveled to...)

Secondly, we know that remnants of the island were not completely forgotten immediately.

Memory faded gradually, starting with the ability to still speak and think about it with accompanying headaches, until it ramped up in intensity and everything is simply gone.

The Sparkling Diary in the library is more or less proof. Memory of the island was gone, but... people still remembered that they forgot something. People still knew what they were talking about, (an island north of Vaugarde), just without the specifics.

"Urgh. Also, Dad noticed no one can say the name of the island north of here anymore?" "I tried to say it yesterday and I got like the WEIRDEST headache for HOURS."

And Odile also remarks the following

Odile: We also know that people could remember that country clearly, before.

This will be relevant later. Moving on.

CONTRIVANCES

THE HOUSE'S OBSERVATORY

SO. The House of Change of Dormont has this funny little room on the third floor. It's an observatory. To look at stars with. When entering this room for the first time, Mirabelle says this:

Mirabelle: What...? Was there a room like this in the House? Y-yeah, I remember! Someone was working here... Studying... They looked like... ... Um... Sorry, I can't remember.

This reveals to us several things:

This room is innate to the House, and not brought here by the King's weird redecorating

Someone from the House was using it for study

All memory of who or what was studying and being studied was erased alongside the island's existence

Of course we can say, "yo, what if Euphrasie was using this room and just forgot?" but that is. a headcanon. I ADMIT! It is a stipulation

However, I find the general presence of the Island written all over the House incredibly interesting.

Inside the Observatory, there's a pile of papers with messy handwriting. You can't read these in until ACT 4. Even in ACT 4, you can't read them. But you do learn what's written on them.

(A pile of papers.) (It looks like someone was trying to write your country's name.)

Inside the observatory is also a globe. Upon repeated interaction in... act 4, i think, you get this:

(You see a spot on the globe where the paint has started wearing out, like someone kept dragging their finger on it.) (You drag your finger there too.) (Erased. You almost want to look for lightless paint.)

BOOKS

During the various quests to discover the truth of the loops, you run into a lot of books, written in the forgotten language. Now, Dormont is not close to the island. Dormont is not close to the coast.

Bambouche is. That's why Bonnie has heard about the island before and knows it was a big deal - they lived really close to it.

Bonnie (and then1): I think, I think my village was really close to it!!! My sister said it was all everyone could talk about for weeks!!! Mirabelle (anxious1): That's so frightening... I'm glad that whatever happened, she didn't get caught up in it!

As we can see in this map, Dormont is in the southern half of the country, and very centrally at that, meaning it has basically maximum distance from all waters and ports. So why does this landlocked small town have so many books in this language?

These aren't just dry books, either. In Dormont's library, there's actually a translated version of volume 2 of The Cursing of Chateau Castle.

(You take the book out again.) (You can read its title, now...) (Your heart is beating, badump, badump, badump.) (It's...) (... A translated copy of "The Cursing of Château Castle", issue #2.) (You start laughing.)

CONCLUSION OF THIS SECTION

Islanders lived in Dormont. Maybe even multiple! We've established that whoever is in Dormont when it vanished would not simply disapper, instead

they forgot where they're from.

One day, the islanders in Dormont could no longer remember being anywhere but Dormont. Being anything but Vaugardian. The observatory fell into disuse, as the person studying there gradually forgot what they used it for, even as they desparately tried to hold onto it, boring holes into the globe, and scribbling its name over and over until its unintelligible.

And, in all likelihood, eventually that knowledge was just gone forever. They simply became part of Dormont, none the wiser to their own history.

Books slipped into cracks. Rooms fell into disuse. Nobody remembered to clean out the remnants.

Now. The real cinch of this.

Why, in particular, do I think Euphrasie is one of them?

Answer me this, then.

How does Euphie know what Wish Craft is?

1. How could she read it?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft exists, when all books on it are written in a language nobody can read.

The book in the storage room? The diary in the room behind the star door? The book in the secret library? None of them are legible.

There are no legible records of Wish Craft.

2. What about the Favor Tree?

Euphrasie knew specifically that Wish Craft is related to the Favor Tree. It's also a Vaugardian practice to make requests of the Favor Tree, but they're just that - requests. Nobody thinks they actually have power.

Only Euphrasie does. She thinks it's the key to defeating the King.

(This is... A list of people who wished to save Vaugarde!!!) (You look around her desk, trying to find out more.) (Why would she record the people who wished to save Vaugarde?) (... There!!!) (It's a little notebook, jammed between random boring paperwork...) (In it, the Head Housemaiden talks about Wish Craft... How in the days before the King attacked, she noticed everyone was wishing to the Favor Tree for the same thing:) (To save Vaugarde.) (And she started wondering if this wish could be the key to the King's defeat, somehow...) (So the Head Housemaiden knew about Wish Craft!!!)

Except, when Isabeau talks about it...

Isabeau: Well, it's just a random big tree. But when you're a believer of the House of Change, the biggest tree in a certain place is called a Favor Tree! It's like, it’s the tree with the most power, so you can ask it things? As a favor?

He struggles a little to explain it. Almost, as though the tradition came from some other culture, imported into Vaugarde, and no one can definetely remember where it came from.

To note, here, is that the Favor Tree is hugely associated with Loop, and wishes in general. Wishing on a Favor Tree is such a hugely powerful ritual when executed correctly, that it caused the entire timeloops.

And I'm not even gonna break out citations to prove that Wish Craft is associated with the island. Come on. You know that. You played the game. It's required to beat the game.

If you haven't beaten the game, what the fuck are you doing here. Go back and play it, baka.

3. Something's breaking, failing, rotting

At the end of ACT 4, when Siffrin confronts Euphrasie about her knowledge of Wish Craft, Euphrasie is distinctly aware of this: the people of Vaugarde are wishing wrong.

It's true. All of Vaugarde wished to the Favor Tree, wished for us to be saved. We wished for a savior. A way for us to win against the King. And Wish Craft gave us the means to do it, didn't it? Made sure it'd work? [...] But... But something went wrong, didn't it? Something goes wrong, every time!!! [...] The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong. I don't know what happened But we must've done it wrong!!! None of us in Vaugarde knew the exact ritual, but-- But we must have done it so wrong, it broke, and it doesn't answer to us at all anymore!!! [...] I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!!!

There's only one person who knew how to make a Wish correctly. And he made it by sheer instinct. Something they could not place even if they tried. Just... a forgotten ritual, dredged back up by muscle memory. Something he's probably been doing since he's a little kid, something that's so backed into their habits they use Wish Craft to carve figurines out of wood.

To end, I leave you with this. Dialogue you get when you try to talk to Euphrasie again, before you talked to everybody else.

If you talk to me... REALLY talk to me... It's all over. What "it" is, I have no idea... I know... I can feel that... I couldn't change whatever comes next, even if I wanted to. But I know it is the will of the Change God. Or, no, perhaps... The will of something even bigger... ... Something will end, once you talk to me.

There is a way for Euphrasie to know all of this. To know Wish Craft exists, to be aware she's doing it wrong, but not knowing, remembering quite enough to get it right.

If she knew it all beforehand already.

[na0koz]

PLEASE FEED US MORE TOXIC JINX ITS SO GOOD

i got u baby

toxic!jinx masterlist

jinx treats you like her girlfriend, even if she’s never asked you to be hers directly. right from the first second she saw you, you were hers, so why should she have to ask??!!

she’ll call you before she comes over to your place for the first time (first time being invited) asking if you want anything from the store.

“hey baby. want me to get you anythin’ from the store?” jinx already knows what you want, she’s already paid for it and left the store, but she’ll humour you while you explain in detail what you want so she can buy it for you.

“uh huh,” she was right, obviously. “i’ll get that for ya. see you in 10!” she chirps before hanging up.

once she arrives at your apartment, she’s ecstatic. she asks you for a tour and takes in the trinkets on your shelves, the posters on your wall, your crumpled bedsheets. nothing she hasn’t seen before, but she won’t let you in on that just yet.

you get settled on the couch, jinx practically in your lap with how close she’s sitting to you. the two of you decide to watch a movie and before long, you’ve finished the drink she bought you and have to use the bathroom.

as soon as she hears the lock click, jinx jumps up and roots around in your bag. eventually, she triumphantly pulls out your keys and starts to trace them on a piece of paper. she quickly shoves them back into your bag, but not before snapping a quick picture of them just to be safe.

she’s surprisingly quick with it, and seemingly hasn’t moved a muscle since you got up. you sit back down to continue the movie and you guys hang out for the rest of the night.

-

a few months go by and jinx decides it’s okay to finally do what she had been plotting for so long. she knows you’re home, of course she does. she takes herself to your apartment block and stands outside your door for a little bit. she examines the key she made from the tracings she took and prays to god that it works. if not, you’ll call her all frightened that someone tried to break in and she’ll come over (she’ll walk a couple laps of the block before she knocks on your door) to comfort you and hold you in her lap til your breathing slows.

she takes a breath, pushes the key into the lock and twists. she hears the gears clicking and the door unlocks; whispering a small prayer, she opens the door and shuffles into your apartment. she sees you perched on the couch, supposedly scared of your front door opening.

“jinx…?” you say in a confused yet relieved tone. “how’d you get in?”

here goes, jinx thinks to herself. she’d rehearsed this conversation a million times over to herself.

“don’t you remember? you gave me your spare key! i texted you that i was coming over,” she says as she kicks off her boots and comes to sit by you.

“oh.. i must’ve forgot. i didn’t get any texts from you though?”

jinx has to bite her cheek to keep herself from smiling. this was going exactly how she wanted it! it’s a good thing the signal is bad around your apartment block so she could justify her message not going through. she was also thankful that you often just accept whatever she says and assume you forgot.

“must’ve not gone through. you know how bad the signal is here. and how could you forget? silly baby,” she muses as she takes a section of your hair into her hands.

you hum as you start to tell her about the project you’re working on. all the while, jinx can’t help but smile to herself as she mentally pats herself on the back for her perfect plan. everything had fell into place, finally, and she can come visit her precious baby whenever she wants.

[oneforthemunny]

I heard something about angsty fics around here? Am I right? I'm not sure about the plot, but it has to be cowboy eddie!

Pretty please. Something about sweet girl keeping a secret, but a totally innocent one, just to not concern him. But he found out accidentally, and all was a misunderstanding. He talked to her really harshly, accusing her of cheating and not being trustworthy. Something like that plz plz plz

"Thanks, Gare. I think he's gonna love it." You whispered, cradling the landline to your ear. You could hear the creak of the screen door followed by Eddie's heavy boots on the wood floor, heart skipping.

"I gotta go. Thank you. Talk to you soon." You slid around the kitchen wall's corner, slipping the phone back on the hook as silently as you could, wincing at the small click of the phone settling.

"Hey, honey." You greeted, slinking towards Eddie sweetly. "You done already?"

Eddie grunted in response, stripping his socks, tossing them in the laundry room.

Irritation consumed you, though you tried to mask it. Eddie had been so moody lately. You assumed it was because of his birthday. He always got weird around his birthday, which is exactly why you were determined this year to make it a good one.

"Are you hungry? I kept your sandwich in the fridge, since you didn't come in at lunc-"

"-Who were you on the phone with?" A piercing, furrowed brow gaze met yours suddenly. Canopied by matted curls from a day's work, you could still see the deep lines on his forehead, furrowed.

"What?" You chirped, eyes wide, round in caught surprise. Shit, he'd heard you. How the hell had he heard you? You'd been so quiet, so careful, wanting to surprise him. The look of pure shock, it would be priceless.

You expected to see his lips curl in a smirk, shake his head at you, tell you something along the lines of, "c'mon, baby, can't get anything past me, y'know that".

It never came.

Instead, Eddie's eyes flashed in fury- hurt. Nostrils flaring in a deep breath he tried to swallow down, tried to keep his anger from flaring.

"Who were you on the phone with?" Eddie gritted, an eerie steadiness to his tone that had you shuddering, stomach twisting in fear.

"I-I was- I was just calling to check on my prescription." A stuttering of a lie fell from your lips, nails digging into the palms of your hands. "Just calling to see when I needed to go into town to pick it up-"

"-Y'know," Eddie huffed, standing to his full height, looming over you. "If you're gonna fuck around on me, you could have the decency not to do it in my home."

My home. The words, the tone of his voice, it sent icy waves of fear down your spine. The last time Eddie had called the home "his place" was before you moved in, since then it had been shared with the two of you. Our home, our place, ours.

"What?" Your own brows furrowed this time. "I'm not fucking with you-"

"-No, no, no." Eddie shook his head, taking a striding step towards you. "That's not what I said. I said fucking around on me." There was a beat, your face falling in hurt, his steeling in fury. "Because that's what you're doin'? Aren't you? Fucking around on me?"

"Are you out of your goddam mind?" It was your turn to scoff, angry and insulted. "Did Medusa kick you in your fucking head or something?"

"Don't!" Eddie's voice boomed, hand smacking against the doorframe, a loud echoing of a hit. You stilled, eyes wide, he'd never been this angry- not with you at least. Not at you.

"Don't you come in my fucking house, fucking around on me when I've done nothing-nothing but love you!"

"I'm not fucking around on you, Eddie! Christ, have you lost your mind?" You shouted back, taking a furious step towards him, the two of you in a stand off. "I mean, what is the matter with you? You think I-I'm cheating on you?"

"You think I'm stupid?" Eddie sneered, jaw tight. "You sneakin' around, makin' phone calls all day? Runnin' off into town? I might be a lot of things, honey, but dumb ain't one of 'em."

"You are dumb." You snapped bitterly. "Stupid, even. If you think I'm cheating on you. What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Who is he?" Eddie's hands gripped the door frame. "Huh? I deserve to know. Who is he?"

You gawked, baffled, furious, embarrassed. Eddie thought you were cheating? Cheating? How did something so kind, so thoughtful that you were trying to do for him, backfire to this? It made you feel hurt, insulted.

"Who is he?" You scoffed. Eddie's face didn't move, expression not softening, not falling. You could feel the burn filling your chest, your nose, suffocating you.

Stomping over to your purse, you flipped it upside down, dumping the contents of it out. There, amongst the change and hair ties, you snatched the receipts you'd shoved to the bottom of your purse. Business cards, a small neon invitation, and wadded receipts from the party stores, balling them in your hand, flinging them at Eddie's face furiously.

"You want to know who I've been talking to?" You sneered, watching Eddie scan the receipts, face slowly falling as he read the item- a birthday cake written confirmation note order with the small note added, "Happy Birthday, Eddie!" in red piping. The date for next Saturday, his birthday.

"I've been on the phone with Gareth." You spat, trying to swallow the tears already brimming your waterline. "I've been sneaking around and trying to plan you a surprise party, because I wanted you to have a good birthday for once."

Eddie felt sick, a wave of nausea crashing over him, head spinning in a dizzying ache. A small invitation, "Shh! It's a secret!" in bold, funky lettering on the invitation, Gareth's address written below.

"Oh." Eddie croaked. His eyes met yours again, though this time, he wore the rounded look of shame. "I, um, I-I didn't me-"

"-You're a fucking asshole." You spat, blinking through tear stained vision, stomping up the stairs in a hurt fury, ignoring his cries and pleas that you cut off with the slamming of the bedroom door.

[tokkiwrites]

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (4)

mom's fiancé! joel miller x f! reader • series masterlist

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

Tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, betrayal, talk about divorce, talk about not wanting a child, ANGSTTTT, (marjorie being a mean bitch but also a great plot device!), trauma!!! reader has daddy issues, but dont quote me on that.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ im baaack !! the second to last part is here!! how do we feel so far? IT'S GOING DOWN!! one more chapter, and we will find out if anyone will get a happy ending. who knows.. maybe we'll make a spinoff of this? anyway, this is 3.37k words, so the shortest of the bunch butbi didn't want to add unnecessary smut :') HOPE YOU LOVE IT! not proofread soo if you anything spelled wrong umm close your eyes.

“Glad you could make it,” Marjorie said, closing the door behind you. “I thought we could have a little chat.”

“What do you want? was it really necessary for us to come here?” Joel asked, his tone edged with irritation. "Wouldn't want more people to see us now, right?" She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “I think you both know exactly what I want." You exchanged a worried glance with Joel, trying to gauge how serious she was. “What are youㅡ?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. Marjorie pushed off the counter and walked towards you, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “I want you to share him for a bit." she said bluntly, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to let the grown-ups play too. Besides, it’s only fair, isn’t it? After all, we can't let your mom find out about you two..." Your heart sank. “You can’t be serious,” you said, laughing as disbelief washed over you. “Oh, I’m very serious. If you want to keep this little affair of yours a secret, you’ll have to comply with my terms. I’ll tell your mother everything if you don’t.”

“Why would you do this?” Joel’s voice was low, but you could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Because it’s fun, Joel. Because I can. And because your little fling is just that—a fling. I want you back, and I’m not above playing dirty to get what I want.” You felt sick, caught in the middle of a game you never wanted to play. “This isn’t fair,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Life’s not fair, sweetie,” Marjorie shot back. “You should know that by now.”

Joel stepped in front of you, a protective stance that made your heart swell and ache at the same time. “You don’t have to do this. You could just walk away, Marjorie. You’re better than this.” She laughed, a sound that was anything but lighthearted. “Better? Oh, darling, I’m far from better. I’m just getting started. So, that's the deal. You decide now.”

You felt the world around you spin as Marjorie’s words sunk into you like a bullet. “You’re a terrible friend,” you spat, rage and hurt flooding through you. “Your mother is the one who’s a bad friend,” Marjorie retorted, her eyes narrowing. “She knew how I felt about Joel. She knew we were together all those years ago. And yet, she had the audacity to marry him anyway.” Tears burned at your eyes as her words cut deep. “You’re just bitter because he moved on,” you accused.

“Bitter? Maybe. But I’m also vindictive. You’re standing in my way, and I don’t like it.” Joel’s hand squeezed yours tightly, and you could feel the tension. "Oh, so that's the only thing keeping you away? the fact that I am with him and not that he's your best friend's husband?"

"Didn't stop you, honey. And she's your mom." As Marjorie’s laughter echoed around the room, a twisted sense of triumph in her eyes, you felt the walls closing in on you. She was ready to play this game to the bitter end, and the stakes were too high. “Fine,” you said suddenly, surprising both Joel and yourself. “I’ll think about it.”

Marjorie’s expression turned sly. “Good. You have until tomorrow. Make your decision, and let me know. I’ll be waiting.”

On your way back home, the car ride was silent. You turned to Joel, his face a mask of frustration. "What now?" You finally speak up. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, but the doubt lingered in his eyes. The gravity of the situation bore down more intensely than ever before.

When you got home, the air felt suffocating and so cold at the same time. Your mother had gone to bed early, and joel decided to spend the night at his apartment, closer to where he worksㅡ again. the stillness of the house was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within you. You wanted to scream, cry, and run away from everything that was happening. But instead, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at the ceiling as the reality of your situation washed over you.

The next morning brought with it a sense of impending doom. You felt like you were walking on a tightrope, and the slightest misstep could send you tumbling into chaos. Your mother chatted about her plans for the day, seemingly oblivious to it allㅡ her daughter was fucking her husband. But you couldn’t focus on her words; all you could think about was Marjorie and the ultimatum she had laid before you.

As the day wore on, the burden of your decision weighed heavily on your chest. You knew you couldn’t keep Joel, your mom and Marjorie happy without sacrificing something monumental. The thought of losing Joel made your heart ache, but so did the thought of being betrayed by your own mother. Hours passed, and by the time your mother left for a gathering with her friends from work, you felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap. “I’ll be back late, sweetheart,” she called over her shoulder, and for a moment, you felt that flicker of guilt in your very sould again.

With the house empty, you sank into the couch, pulling out your phone and staring at it, waiting for Joel to text. The minutes turned into hours, and just as doubt began to creep in, your phone buzzed, a message from him lighting up the screen.

• Meet me at our spot?

Your heart raced, and you felt a surge of trepidation.

• I’ll be there.

You arrived at the secluded spot by the river, where the world felt far away. Joel was already waiting, leaning against his truck, the setting sun casting a warm glow on his rugged features. When he saw you, a relieved smile broke across his face. “Hey, you,” he said, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melted against him instantly, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, pulling back to look into his eyes. “Marjorie is insane...”

but maybe so were you.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said, voice steady. “I won’t let her hurt you. We’ll figure this out together.” But even as he spoke, you could see the doubt flickering in his eyes. “She wants me to share you with her, Joel, what the actual fuck?" you whispered, the words feeling heavy and bitter on your tongue. “She can’t have you. You’re mine.” But then reality crashed in, and you felt the tears prick at your eyes. “What if she really tells mom?” you asked, desperation threading through your voice.

“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” his hands were cupping your face, thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “I love you. You know that, right? No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere, baby." but the words felt hollow. “What if this is all my fault?”

“It’s not,” he insisted, his grip firm, eyes fierce. “We’re not doing anything wrong. We love each other. That’s what matters. ain't nothin' wrong with lonving somebody."

yeah, your mom's husband.

You wanted to believe him, to let those words wash away the doubts, but all was a threat and it loomed large, an insidious whisper in the back of your mind, reminding you that love alone might not be enough to shield you from the consequences of your actions. "Mom wouldn’tㅡ she will not understand, Joel. She’ll be devastated.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said again, his voice firm, but you could sense the uncertainty lingering beneath the surface. “We can go to her together and explain it all. You’re everything to me, baby, you know that. this is just a lessonㅡ people will always try and come between us.” Just like you came between him and your mom.

You wanted to believe him, but fear clutched at your heart like a vice. “What if she gets angry and takes it out on you?” Even now, he was all you cared about. The thought was unbearable. “I can handle it,” he said, determination lighting his gaze. “No one is going to make me not love you, babygirl.”

Finally, you took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I have to go home.” His expression shifted, disappointment mingling with concern. “Are you sure? We can stay a little longer—”

“I have to think. About everything.”

maybe love won't save it all.

The walk home felt like a thousand miles, each step heavy with dread. You replayed everything in your mind. was it really worth it? Was Joel worth it? Was your mom worth it?

the house was quiet, the only sound being the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. You slipped inside, the darkness wrapping around you like a shroud, and paused for a moment to collect your thoughts. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of the door opening. You froze, your heart racing as you turned to see your mother step inside, her face illuminated by the hallway light. She looked tired but happy, her laughter still lingering in the air as she made her way toward you.

“Oh, sweetheart! You’re back!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm embrace. You inhaled her familiar scent, a mixture of lavender and home, and felt a surge of guilt wash over you. “Hi, mom,” you said, your voice betraying the turmoil inside you. She smiled, but it faltered as she took a closer look at your expression. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I... it’s nothing,” you replied too quickly, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your mother’s brow furrowed in concern. “You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right, ladybug?” A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Yeah, I know.”

This was it.

The moment where everything hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of no return. You knew what you had done was wrong—there was no denying it. No sugarcoating, no excuses. But as awful as your betrayal was, letting her find out from someone else, someone who wanted to hurt her for sport would be even worse. It would be cruel, cowardly, and the final twist of the knife. The only thing you could do now, the only thing that held even a shred of dignity or decency, was to take control of the narrative. To tell her the truth yourself. Not because it would fix anything—nothing could. but because it was the last way to show her respect. The last chance to do something for her that wasn’t tainted with deceit or manipulation.

You owed her that much. Even if she hated you forever, even if she never looked at you the same way again, it would come from you— not from Marjorie or anyone else who wanted to see her destroyed. You had already broken her heart, but you couldn’t let them shatter her spirit. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. It felt impossible, like standing in front of a firing squad, but you had to do it. The power had to be yours. This was the only way to make sure she knew the truth wasn’t a weapon someone else could wield against her.

You looked at her. If you’re going to lose everything, at least lose it by owning what you did. Not by running away.

“Mom, can we talk?” The words rushed out before you could second-guess yourself. She turned, her expression now serious. “Of course, honey. What’s on your mind?” You hesitated. You wanted to tell her everything—about Joel, about Marjorie, about the love that was blossoming in the shadows. You had to. “Just... something.” You started biting your lip.

"Something?" she pressed, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of concern. She stepped closer, her eyes searching your face as if trying to read your thoughts. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” Your chest tightened, the truth pressing down on you like a boulder. “It’s about Joel,” you blurted out, unable to stop the words from spilling over. Her face stiffened at his name, her posture straightening. “What about Joel?” she asked, her tone sharper now. The air grew heavier with each passing second, the silence between you stretching like a chasm. "Did he do anything to you?" her worry was obvious.

"N-no..." You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “We’ve... been seeing each other.” The words were heavy and raw. Her face shifted, confusion and disbelief warring for dominance. “What do you mean ‘seeing each other’?” she asked with a laugh, though you knew she understood exactly what you meant. “I mean we’ve been... together,” you admitted. Her face twisted. “Together?” she repeated, the word snapping like a whip. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “Mom, I love him.” Her laughter was harsh, bitter. “You love him? Joel? My husband? Your stepdad?” Her voice cracked with fury and pain.

You hated to hear that. You hadn’t realized quite yet who he was to you. "He's not my dad, momㅡ"

“How long has this been going on?” she interjects. “Since... before the wedding,” you confessed, and the words hit her like a physical blow. She staggered back, her hand flying to her chest. “Before the wedding?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “So you’ve been lying to me this entire time? Both of you?" Tears streaked her face, but they did nothing to soften the anger in her eyes. “How could you? How could heㅡ ?!” Her voice rose. "Is this some kind of sick fucking joke?" her voice cracking. "It's not a joke, Mom," you said, your voice trembling. "I didn't want this to happen, but it did. I—"

"Didn't want this to happen?" she cut you off, her eyes blazing. "You expect me to believe that? That it just... happened? His dick just fell into you, right? You betrayed me! My own daughter, with my fucking husband!" She threw her hands up, pacing the room like a caged animal, her anguish filling every corner. “You’ve destroyed everything—everything! How long have I been the fool, sitting at home, playing happy family while you... while you—”

“Stop it!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?!” she snapped, whirling to face you. “You don’t think I understand betrayal? You don’t think I know what it feels like to be stabbed in the back by the two people who should love me the most?” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said desperately, tears spilling freely now. “But I love him, Mom. I love him.”

“You love him?” she echoed mockingly. “You love my husband? Do you even hear yourself? What kind of daughter—what kind of person does this?” The venom in her voice stung, but you couldn’t back down now. “I’m not proud of this,” you said, your voice quiet and steady. “But it’s the truth. I love him, and he loves me.” Your voice rises again. She stared at you in disbelief, her jaw tightening. “Loves you?” she spat, her tone dripping with scorn. “Is that what he told you? That he loves you? That this is some grand romance and not just another one of his selfish, disgusting whims?”

“Stop it,” you said quietly, but she pressed on, her anger building like a storm. “Do you even know him?” she hissed. “The real him? Or are you just blinded by whatever lies he’s been feeding you? He’s a liar, a manipulator, and now he’s turned my own goddamn daughter against me.”

“You don’t know anything about us!” you shot back, your voice rising to match hers. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever been hurt? The only one who’s ever felt unloved? You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” she interrupted, her voice rising to a shout. “What don’t I understand? That you’re selfish? That you’re reckless? That you’ve thrown away everything we had for... for him?” The words hit you like a slap, but they also ignited something inside you. “You don’t get to stand there and pretend you’re some kind of victim!” you yelled. “You’re not perfect, Mom! You’re not blameless!” Her face twisted in rage and pain. “So now this is my fault?” she demanded. “You’re blaming me for your choices? For his choices? You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m not blaming you,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion, as you were sobbing. “But you don’t get to act like you’re innocent either. You’ve pushed people away your whole life, and now you’re acting surprised that someone finally—"

“Stop,” she said coldly, her voice low but dangerous. “Don’t you dare try to twist this around. Don’t you dare try to justify what you’ve done.” The room fell silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter but no less filled with anger. “I gave you everything,” she said, her voice shaky. “I sacrificed everything for you. And this is how you repay me?”

“I know you didn’t want me,” you suddenly snapped, the years of buried hurt rising to the surface. “I always heard you fighting with Dad, saying I was your biggest mistake! Isn't that why dad left?" Her eyes widened, stunned by the shift in the conversation. “What?” she said, her voice barely audible. “I know,” you repeated, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. “I heard it all. I wasn’t deaf, Mom. I was a kid but i wasn't fucking stupid! I knew you never wanted me.”

Her face hardened, a mixture of guilt and defiance flashing across her features. “Of course, I didn’t fucking want you!” she shouted, the admission slicing through the air. “I was twenty years old! I didn’t want a kid, and guess what? I can’t change that! I can’t just grab you and shove you back into my fucking uterus, can I? But i didn't abandon you, Iㅡ"

“I already knew that,” you whispered, your voice hollow. “You didn’t know,” she snapped, her eyes blazing. “You didn't know shit! You’re just trying to make me the bad guy so you can feel better about the awful, disgusting thing that you did.” The room seemed to pulse. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “But it did, and I can’t change it.” She shook her head, her hands trembling. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’ve destroyed everything. Our family. My marriage. Everything.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left your lips. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t help how I feel.”

“You’re just like him,” she spat. “Selfish. Just like your fucking dad."

taglist ⭐️ ㅡ @eviispunk @joeldjarin @whimsiwitchy @guelyury @untamedheart81 @dollyxzy @mybvalentine @am-3-thyst @klajmekk @cuteanimalmama @corinnedollete @vickie5446 @gabymalikk

[devotedfem]

«Scream»

Synopsis: It's late and you're watching horror movies. But someone's calling you, a weirdo asking you questions about classic horror films. Nothing was wrong until he started to threat you, and when you hang up the phone you realized there's murderers wearing ghostface masks in your house.

Maknae line (poly) x f. Reader

2.7K words.

Genre: Scream au | yander-ish.

Tags: psycopaths maknae line, mind games, psychological terror, murderers (implied but not described), betrayal, the maknae line are a menace here, emotional conflict, delusional maknae line, angry reader, very VERY dubious consent (coercion is not consent so read with caution), happy ending for them not for reader, smut, overstimulation.

A/N: I'm so sorry for disappearing for literally a month, i moved to another country and life has been very stressful lately, so yeah i took a break from writing but here i am again, writing lots of vminkook p0rn. Hope you enjoy!

From the series masterlist; Final girl.

Navigation Masterlist.

You’re eating popcorn, resting on your couch with your feet up on the armchair. You took a gulp of your coke can without breaking your gaze from the tv screen, you startled staining your shirt when the slasher appeared from nowhere, you cursed under your breath taking off your shirt but before you can go to your room to change, your phone vibrated with notifications. You turned them off because the boys always get annoying on the weekends.

You opened the group chat, rolling your eyes when you see the 123 unread messages.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

Jiminie: Guys can u please stfu for a moment, I wanna sleep but u don’t stop talking shit.

You: let’s kicked them out of the group Jiminie, I swear I can’t even watch a movie in peace.

Jjk: u two r so fcking boring.

Tae: right? Like can u two at least read what were talking abt.

You: we’re*

Jiminie: lol

Jjk: Guys this is serious, there’s a sicko killing people wearing a ghostface mask.

You: Ghostface masks are hot.

Tae: ??

Jjk: ???????

Jiminie: ik right

You: Anyway, maybe is just a rookie killer without imagination, like it’s Halloween and there’s a lot of sickos around here. Just closed ur doors and don’t be a pussy.

Tae: I’m literally speechless.

Jiminie: Bye I’m sleeping, stfu.

Jjk: we warned u.

You dropped your phone on the couch, walking to your kitchen to make more popcorn. You missed the plot twist of the movie because of your friend’s annoying group chat.

You were on your bra and pajama pants, not caring about anything in the world. Until your home phone rings in your kitchen making you stop immediately. You frowned tilting your head to the side, watching the old home phone still ringing. It’s being ages since someone called to that number, you didn’t even know that the ancient thing was still working.

“Odd,” you murmured to yourself, answering the phone.

“Hello?”

You heard a heavy breath on the other side of the phone. The person says nothing back, making you frown.

“Who’s this? And why are you calling to this number?” Your patience was running thin ice.

“I’m watching you,” said a man with a low voice.

You rolled your eyes with annoyance.

“Is this a prank? Don’t call to this number again or I’ll fuck you up.”

You were about to hang up the phone but a deep chuckle from the man stopped you. Why does he sound familiar to you?

“Are you watching Friday the 13th?” He taunted. His voice sounded odd, like if he was lowering it purposely.

Your stomach sink with dread, your heart rate speed up when you heard from the tv the slasher killing people.

“What if I do?” You gritted between teeth, keeping an eye on your surroundings. You won’t show fear to that weirdo.

 “Let’s play a game, I’ll ask you some questions about horror movies. And if you answer wrong, I’ll kill you.”

Your eyes widened by his words, you were about to hang up and call the police but the other man was quicker than you.

“If you hang up or try to touch your fucking phone I’ll slice your neck,” the threat made you freeze on your place, the wire of the home phone wouldn't let you move far away anyway.

You felt your eyes sting up with tears by fear. You remember Jungkook and Taehyung warning.

Your breath turned shallow and your grip on the home phone started to tremble. You felt cornered and scared.

“What’s the identity of the masked killer of Scream?”

You inhaled deep, this one was easy.

“Uhm, his name was Billy, Sidney’s boyfriend.”

Your eyes roamed your kitchen, watching your surroundings again with dread and fear.

“Good.”

You couldn’t help but frown again because he sounded so familiar to you, but you can’t pinpoint of whom that voice belongs to.

“Last one; what’s the plot twist of Friday the 13th?”

Fucking fucker.

This time your eyes blurred by unshed tears because of how nervous and panicked you felt. You’ve never been good at dealing with strong emotions, even when you try to act tough, in your insides you’re very easy to scare and intimidate.

“I- please i-I don’t know,” you stuttered with quivering lips, you feel like having a panic attack.

“Look behind you, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched sharply, you turned your neck to look behind you, widening your eyes and screaming at the top of your lungs when you saw a man in your kitchen, wearing a ghostface mask and waving his unoccupied hand at you.

And then you run.

And he did it too.

You grabbed your phone from the couch, noticing with horror how the SIM card was missing. But you didn’t have time to linger about that thought.

You listened to his steps chasing you from behind, making you run faster by the increase of adrenaline pumping your veins.

You tried to open the front door of your house, but it didn’t budge. You were home alone, your parents went out in a trip.

You were fucked up.

Without any more options, you climbed the staircases hiding in a bathroom.

You try texting your parents but it was past midnight and your phone didn’t have its sim card, so you can’t call neither text.

That’s why you opened the app where you and your friends have the group chat.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

You: CALL THE POLICE THERE’S SOMEONE IN MY HOUSE AND THEYTOOKMYSIM CARD

Jjk: y/n? what the fuck, that’s not funny.

You: PLEASE IM NOT JOKING AND I CANTK CALLM THEPLICE

Tae: are you being serious right know?

Jiminnie: you guys again?

Jjk: Y/n’s saying there’s someone in her house but she can’t call the police but she can chat with us lol.

You: GUYS PLEASEIMSERIUS PLEASE HES COMING I NEED YOUR HELP CALL THE POLICE!!!!!!!!!!!

Tae: dude writing in capitals won’t make your prank more credible

You screamed into your hand with frustration, pulling your hairs out and weeping with fear, you wanted to smash your head against the tiles by exasperation. They weren’t taking you seriously.

Then you half open the door quietly, watching the murderer roaming the hallway. When he turned his back to you, distracted on his phone, you took yours to snap a picture of him.

Group chat: Y/n and the homos.

You: *send picture*

You: THIS IS HIM HES INMYHOUSE

Jjk: what the fuck

You: JUNGKOOK IM HAVINGAPANICK ATTACK CALL THE FUCKING POLICE OR ILL KILL YOU MYSELF

Tae: Damn no need to be so harsh y/n, calm down.

You: CALL THE POLICE YOU MORONS

Jiminnie: u guys r so annoying

You: jiminniehelp me please please please im scared imnot lying

Jjk: y/n you’re making me worry, aren’t you fucking with us?

You: NOO!!!!!!!!

Tae: oh well, then we should do something abt it

You: OFC U IDIOT

Jjk: yeah ur right tae, what we should do?

You: CALLTHEPOLICE?????!!!!!!!!

Tae: u think so?

Jjk: mm not so sure

Tae: and u Jiminnie, what do u think?

You: guys whats happening, please im scared

Jiminnie: I think I’ll go and help my y/n.

You frowned with trembling hands, tasting the saltiness of your silent tears. You were about to throw up and insult them again but the bathroom’s door opening made you jump with fear.

“Here you are.”

In any other circumstance you would scream and run for your life, you would grab something from the bathroom to throw it at him and save your life. But none of that happened, you stayed in your spot freeze, maybe because you were having a panic attack, but even then your primal instincts should fuel you to run. But that wasn’t the reason of your frozen state. Not at all. It was the fact that you recognized that voice.

“You… are you…”

Then the murderer took off his ghostface mask, tilting his head to the side and making your heart shatter.

“Yes my y/n?”

Jimin, fucking Park Jimin.

The deep fear was replaced by ugly hurt and anger. You saw red, walking towards him with your fists clenched, you punched him on his shoulder but he didn’t budge.

“How dare you scared me like that! You think is funny?! I hate you so much, I don’t want to see your fucking face ever again. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, with angry tears streaming to your chin.

“You thought I was joking?” he asked with mirth, the dark glint in his eyes turned your stomach with dread.

“Just get out Jimin,” you said tired and hurt.

“Y/n, I’m here to kill you-”

And just by that your fear came back twice as hard, your ears buzzed clogging up Jimin’s next words.

You ignored your throat lump of hurt and betrayal, you felt numb while running away from him, hiding in one of the bottom’s cabinets of your kitchen.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling your knees to your chest. You cried until you felt your eyes swelling.

“Y/n? Baby where are you?”

Your eyes widened at Taehyung’s sweet voice calling for you.

You didn’t think twice before opening the cabinet and throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Taehyung chuckled hugging you back as hard, stroking your hair while you’re crying on his neck.

“There there, nothing bad will happen to you.”

The shinning knife in Taehyung’s other hand knocked some sense into you. The realization of your reality hit you hard making you gasp and break the hug in a flash, you watched him with your jaw set and your eyes showing the deep hurt and betrayal you felt inside.

Taehyung foxy smile widened on his lips, he pouted when you took a step back from him.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he said softly, biting his bottom lip to stop a smirk.

You let him come closer to you just a step, and then you blow his head with a pan making him whimper with pain. You used his moment of confusion to run away past him.

You opened a window to get out of your house, your ears were buzzing by the raw adrenaline pumping your veins like liquid fire.

You were so, so close to reach your car until you’re not. The next thing you know is that you’re falling face down on the floor by a body launching at your back. You groaned with pain, feeling the body pinning you to the ground by its weight.

“Caught you,” Jungkook’s voice taunted against your ear, sounding out of breath.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, making Jungkook cursed under his breath. He covered your mouth quickly, lifting your body to take you inside the house again.

Your eyes were too swollen by the amount of tears you shed tonight, you were tired and hurt by their sick game.

Jungkook sat on your couch with you on his lap, one arm wrapped around your naked waist to pull you against his chest.

“Isn’t she so cute?” asked Jimin sighing dreamily, you felt acid rage running your veins. You felt like being mocked on.

“A little feisty, but pretty.” Taehyung sat beside you on the couch, his forehead dripping a little bit of blood. You smiled wide at his wound.

“Did it hurt?” You pointed to his forehead, he simply nodded with the corner of his lips curling down.

“Good,” you grinned with hatred.

“Now now, no need to be mean to our Taetae.” Jimin squatted before you, stroking your cheek even when you flinched your face away with disgust.

“No need to be fucking weirdos either, if you want to kill me do it already.” And then you literally spat on Jimin’s face, but to your horror and disgust he grinned wide tasting your drool with his tongue.

You wanted to throw up at the nasty sight.

“Sweetheart, we don’t want to hurt you, even less kill you,” chuckled lowly Jungkook behind you, his grip on your waist tightened a little.

“What? But Jimin said-“

“I didn't say anything, silly. You didn't even let me finish before running away,” Jimin sighed standing up, getting out of the living room and leaving you there feeling totally lost.

“Then… why are you guys doing this?” You whispered weakly, feeling way more unease than before.

“You’ll see.” Whispered back Taehyung near your ear, chuckling when you flinched.

And you did see it.

Jimin dragged your parent’s tied bodies to the floor of the living room, making your stomach sink with horror and dread.

“We came here to kill them.” Grinned proudly Jimin, kicking your dad’s side when he tried to wiggle out of his ties.

“Why!? Leave them alone they did nothing wrong!” You shouted at the top of your lungs, so loud that your throat hurt.

Jimin’s face morphed into an enraged scowl. He walked towards you in two large steps, gripping your chin up roughly. His jaw was set and his gaze hard.

“Shut up, before I cut your tongue.” He hissed with fury swimming in his brown eyes.

You whimpered afraid, recoiling into Jungkook’s chest unconsciously. Jimin’s always been scary when he’s pissed off, but never to this point.

Jimin’s face softened immediately at your fearful expression, you saw a hint of regret in his gaze.

“Hey, don’t scare her.” Jungkook snapped soothing you when you cried, he hugged you tightly. But his soft kiss on your temple didn’t comfort you at all, it only made you wailed harder with disgust.

“Puh-please just… leave us alone, what do you want?” You asked with labored breaths, you looked up hopeless at Jimin.

“Hyung,” warned Taehyung darkly. He sounded on edge by your cries.

“We want you.” Said Jimin with a cold voice.

“And we’re pissed at your parents for lying to you about us.” Continued Jungkook with a thick angered voice.

“So, we came here to teach them a lesson.” Grinned widely Taehyung like a sadist.

It was nothing new that your parents didn’t like your friends, they always told you to get away from them. You never listened to your parents because you thought they were saying bullshit, but you damn regretted not listening to them. They were right about these sickos.

“So you just want me.” You deadpan.

“Yep.” You listened behind you.

“Okay fine, do whatever you want with me. But. Let. Them. Go.” You gritted between teeth, pointing at your parents passed out on the floor.

The living room went silent at your words, the hush made you feel unease.

Jimin squatted in front of you again, this time, giving you the meanest and sadistic grin you’ve ever seen before.

“Take her up.” He ordered lowly, piercing his heavy and intimidating gaze on you, then his eyes dropped slowly to stare at your naked torso, gaze darkening and fixated on your chest. You felt your cheeks heating up by embarrassment, you felt self-conscious.

Your throat lump and your stomach turned when Jungkook carried you up to your room. Taehyung coo when he saw your silent tears streaming from your eyes.

Jungkook laid you down on the mattress rather softly, making your heart shatter. They were your best friends. The acid betrayal you felt burning your chest and throat was too painful to bear.

You weren’t surprised when you saw your SIM card on your nightstand.

“Stop looking so miserable, we’re not hurting you.” Jungkook said on the defensive. His scowl only angered you, but another part of you enjoyed to see that your disgust affected him.

“You fucking hurt my parents, chase me in my own house and manipulated me to let you fuck me! I have all the right in the world to feel and look miserable!” You felt your vocal cords ripping by your loud scream.

Jungkook and you stared at each other with labored breaths, you didn’t break your gaze in challenge, until you heard Jimin’s giggles.

“Tied her to the bed,” he said with a smile, making your stomach turn.

You closed your eyes, if they wanted to have their way with you, so it be. But you’ll be just a dull body under them, you choose to dissociate rather than to be present for them.

“None of that, open your eyes.” Taehyung growled gripping harshly your chin.

Your breath hitched when you felt a hand wrapping your neck, making your eyes open in a flash.

And the image above you freeze your entire body.

The three of them were staring down at you with hunger on their eyes, you saw their pretty faces coming closer to yours, smiling like the devils they were.

Ready to wreck you.

You can read the +18 continuation on Patreon.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg

[s7toru]

FLAWLESS EXECUTION — GOJO SATORU

in which gojo helps you escape death by recovering your memories the only way he knows how, by taking you out on one last date

warnings & tags: 5.3k, pure fluff if you ignore the ending, mutual pining where the only cockblock is the fact that you're a wanted criminal, profanities, dumb gojo and dumber fem!reader, lukewarm makeout scene, tons of bickering, amnesia plot

an impenetrable fog clouds your thoughts, keeping them apart from sparking and making sense of your situation. with a groan, you lift your head and slowly track your eyes around the unfamiliar room.

white papers with odd symbols decorate all four walls, fluttering ominously despite the lack of wind. you seem to be sitting in a chair, though how you got here and why your hands were being constrained to said chair was a mystery. the position causes your shoulders to ache as your arms are pulled behind you, tucked away using a strong knot. 

with a yank, you attempt to free your wrists but the rope only digs deeper.

"you're awake."

your head snaps up at the sound, locking eyes with the man in front of you, seated in a similar chair to yours. somehow, he makes the chair seem small. his white hair and obnoxious black blindfold is hard to ignore, which makes you wonder how you could have missed the sight of him earlier.

"who are you?" you croak, throat protesting after the lack of use. "where am i?"

"you ask a lot of questions, don't you?"

"are you going to answer any of them?"

"my name is gojo, gojo satoru." the man swings his arms over the front of the chair, leaning forward. "and you're in a waiting room."

"waiting for what?"

"execution."

"what?" the noise escapes you before you can think them through. weren't you just a normal, ordinary citizen last time you checked? there was no way the small shenanigans you got up to in your average life would ever result in a death sentence much less in a filthy, dim lit room such as this one. "listen, i think you have the wrong person. if you let me go now, i won't tell anyone what happened!"

"that's real cute, name, but i definitely have the right person."

you flinch when he says your name. "the worst thing i've ever done is illegally crack games. i'm sorry for doing that, i repent. but don't you think execution is a bit too much?"

"this isn't about your irrelevant gaming addiction. this is about the lives of millions." gojo stands from his seat and you have to crane your head to hold his eyes. "you're name, ex jujutsu student, current rogue sorcerer. on a causal saturday, you annihilated an entire clan albeit an irrelevant one, and now the higher ups of the jujutsu society want you dead. you decided that the best plan of action was to mind manipulate yourself with your curse technique and forget all about it, society and all, living instead as a normal citizen."

he circles around you, whispering the last few words in your ear. "ring any bells?"

you jerk away, wishing your hands were free so you could cup your red ears. "what is wrong with you? and no i don't remember, what is a jujutsu anyway?"

gojo shrugs. "i didn't expect you to remember. your control over your cursed techniques was always really good. as you are right now, you're simply a less interesting shell of who you once were." his hand lightly holds onto your arm and you have to twist your neck to watch.

slowly, he drags his fingers down your arm before stopping at the rope. "now that we have you in our hands again, the higher ups are going to execute you. want to know why?"

"isn't it because you think i'm responsible for ending lives?"

"correct! you're catching on quicker than when you hadn't erased your memory." even though you didn't know the you he was referring to, you still felt insulted on her behalf. "but it's also because you're useless to them in your current state. without knowledge of jujutsu, they have no use for you."

"jujutsu this, jujutsu that, why don't you just let me go before i get the cops on you, you lunatic." you growl.

his finger shakes on your wrist as he laughs. "do you think non-jujutsu people could hurt me?" gojo gives the rope a tug and the knot comes apart, thudding to the floor. your wrist fall at the loss of the ropes and you immediately pull them tight to your chest, scootching to the edge of the chair to place distance between the two of you.

with a newfound caution, you study gojo. "thank you?"

he grins. "no problem."

"didn't you say the authorities wanted me dead? why are you setting me free?"

"you aren't useful to them as you are now, which is why you're set up for death. the simple answer to this situation then, is to pretend like you remember who you are. if you do that, then they can place you on a leash and get you to do their bidding before they get bored and decide to kill you again!"

you stare at him. "so death or later death. those are the options i get?"

"i'm glad you get it!"

you clear your throat. "that's nice and all but—"

with a start, you stand up and grab the legs of the chair, lifting it over your shoulder before throwing it at the suspicious man. you made sure to put all your strength behind it, hoping to dent the ridiculous smile he had on his face.

unfortunately, the chair starts floating in the air.

with the chair in the way, gojo sulks. "that wasn't very friendly of you."

"the, the chair! it's floating? how are you doing that?" you babble mindlessly. there's only one conclusion you can reach. "you're magic."

"i'm jujutsu, technically." gojo gestures with his fingers and the chair settles back comfortably on the ground. "shall we have a talk? without any thrown chairs?"

there's a silence whilst you judge your options. there was a door in the room, obviously, but the fact gojo wasn't guarding it made you uncertain. and, you'd seen him stop a chair in the air with his mind alone. he was no longer a person you wanted to deal with.

you look back and sit on the chair he was sitting at earlier, and he rests on yours. you clear your throat, pressing your knees together and bringing your hands into your lap in hopes to appear smaller under his gaze. “sorry.”

“you’re oddly timid.”

“well,” you hesitate. “you’re magic.”

“it’s jujutsu.” he clarifies again. “and you’re made of it too. that’s how you massacred a family clan twenty one days ago and how you wiped your memory five days after that.”

“you’re saying all this but i really can’t imagine myself doing that.”

"can you imagine yourself doing anything?"

you open your mouth to question his strange words, then close it abruptly. under the spotlight, you couldn't fathom an image of your person. there were vague ideas, like the fact you had been working cooperate before this incident, or the fact that you had a cute little kitten waiting in your single apartment, but details about your likes or interests were blurry.

you swallow, but it's uncomfortable and your mouth is dry. "seriously?" you whisper. "i did all that?"

something on his face falls before he picks it up. "cheer up, name! that's why i'm assigned to your case. all you have to do is follow my orders and i'll get your memories back one way or another!"

"and the whole execution thing?"

he's still smiling as he say, "we'll work it out when we get there."

whatever comfort you felt at his previous words dissipates. "that sounds reassuring."

"doesn't it?" gojo seem oddly proud of his words. "now, you understand the gist of the situation, yes?"

"you all have it out to get me?" you murmur, somehow bitter.

"yes, and the only thing standing between you and death is your technique. and me. all you have to do is pretend you've reversed your technique on yourself and allow yourself to be used by the society. while that's happening, i'll help you actually get your memories back."

"and how will you do that?" you narrow your eyes at him. "did we know each other before the whole, you know, incident?"

"i was also a student back then. with you."

you scan him under a different perspective. "were we close, back then?" you ask.

gojo doesn't give an immediate answer. in fact, his entire body suddenly becomes rigid and his relaxed posture gives way to looking awkward.

"or not?" you murmur under your breath, looking away and clearing your throat to cover up the pause. that was embarrassing.

"we were close." gojo finally says after a moment's silence. "yeah, we were pretty close, huh."

something about his words make you think it's less that he's talking to you, rather that he was talking to himself.

it was his turn to clear his throat, readjusting his facial features to look joyful again. "you have so many questions, name. i can go through each and every one of them, but after you make your decision. it'll be useless to know all this information if you're just going to die here, after all."

"let's not get ahead of ourselves here, i don't even trust you yet. what makes you think you can recover my memories?"

that same, sad smile. "i found you again, didn't i?"

gojo doesn't elaborate on his words, allowing them to sit in the air.

there was something heavy in your chest. the entire time the two of you had been speaking, you've felt it like a persistent ache. yearning might be a word to describe it, but it was stronger, more intense, an innate emotion that kept your eyes on his. somehow, you knew his eyes would be the most brilliant blue. the thought left you curious, and before you could think it through, you were already making up your decision.

"i'll do as you say." you whisper, finally.

you shove the crepe in your mouth and hum in delight as the delicious aromas of chocolate and powdered sugars surround you. the steady bustle of the cafe moves all around you and there's a kind of comfort that comes from watching the world continue, even when you yourself had stopped moving. 

gojo watches you, sipping absentmindedly at his hot chocolate, doused in chocolate syrup and wearing a heaping of whipped cream. it’s untouched and you find such a sight a rarity, though you’re not sure why. "when i said to tell me something that might recover your memory, i thought you'd say something like seeing a family member, or visiting your workplace. not go out to get a crepe."

you lick chocolate off your finger. "you must have kidnapped me before i had breakfast because all i can think about is sugar right now." 

“whatever, just hurry up. clearly, it's not doing anything for you and there’s nothing good about this place except for its crepes.”

“and god are the crepes good.” 

he makes a face at your words, chewing at his straw. 

“are you sulking?” 

“no. are you ever going to finish that crepe or do i have to jump in and help you?”

“so you are sulking.” you hold out your crepe to him, offering the dessert with a smile. “i’m sure you’ll feel better if you take a bite.”

gojo blinks before leaning forward, taking a massive chomp and chasing after a dribble of nutella as it drips out. he misses, and it lands just above his lip. 

you giggle as he licks it up. “well?”

“i guess i do feel better.” 

your laughter cuts short, crepe pausing halfway to your mouth. "that felt way too natural."

gojo doesn't say anything, pretending to take his time chewing the mouthful of crepe he stole from you. you give him a skeptical look before returning to the more important task of figuring where the next bite should be.

should you take the bite along the edge where there was less filling? it would ensure your next bite would be the best, abundant with powdered sugar, banana and nutella. or should you take the mediocre bite near the middle making your next bite similarly mediocre? before you can make up your mind, gojo's face drops down close to yours and scarfs down the entire thing.

you cry out but the damage has been done. you hadn't even noticed him standing from his seat and heading over to you.

gojo pulls back, humming appreciatively, and wipes a thumb to catch the residue on his lips. "now that i've tried it, they really are good."

"my crepe!"

"i think a strawberry crepe would go crazy right about now."

"my crepe!"

gojo gives you a funny look. "yes, i heard you the first time."

"then you'd know that i'm furious right now!" you stand up too, intending to appear intimidating. "you ate my crepe! all of it!"

"you had a few bites."

"it wasn’t enough." you growl.

a grin splits across his face. "i hear desserts taste better when they're shared."

"whoever said that was idiotic." something in his smile makes you pause. slowly, you draw your finger up and point it to your chest. "me?"

he nods.

"oh." you crumble up the napkin in your hands, the one that once held your beloved crepe, and toss it into a nearby bin. it goes in easily, and you wonder if you had been athletic before the incident. "what were we doing eating desserts together?"

looking up, gojo was already at the door.

you hurry to catch up to him. "hey! i wasn't finished talking yet!"

"i'm taking things into my own hands." he says, strolling down the sidewalk with a confidence that has you following after. "you're not going to find your memories at the end of a crepe."

"i might." you huff, settling at a comfortable pace beside him. "so? where are we headed?"

he scans the streets in silence.

it was midday, if the bright, hot sun was any indication, and a weekend at that meaning the sidewalks were busy with excited high schoolers seeking a break and partners bonding in their quality time, holding hands and giggling amongst themselves. you peek down at gojo's empty hand and wonder why you can imagine the grooves and bumps of his fingers.

"the game arcade across the road." gojo says suddenly, and you blink away the temptation. "it was your favourite."

"claw machines." you breathe out. "even without my memories i think i remember the sensation of losing my sanity to small plushies."

"looks like i made the right choice then." gojo grins down at you, stopping at a crossing. the red light flickers to green and the accompanying beeping tells you to move, but gojo stays still.

you tilt your head at him. "something wrong?"

he pauses before shaking his head. "nothing. come on, hurry up! the arcade might close before you even step inside."

"you're the one looking like a deer caught in headlights."

"do you like deers?"

"what?"

"deers. do you fancy them?"

you blink at him. "they're cute."

a smirk splits across his face. you might be imagining it, but gojo's stride is somehow bouncier, full of energy, but you find it isn't distasteful.

as you enter, you're surprised to finding no one looking at the both of you. sure, at first sight you hadn't noticed anything off about gojo's attire but after staring at him for so long, you wonder why it was that not a single person was pointing and laughing at his ugly navy outfit. it didn't help that he was tall, towering over you as he slides a coin into the machine, and that he adorned a thick blindfold over his eyes. surely, he would be a sight that garnered attention.

"gojo." you start, maneuvering the joystick over the plushie that had caught your eye. "why isn't anyone making fun of you?"

he doesn't say anything for a while as you play. "what? why would they?"

you spare his a doubtful look. "i mean, look at you."

"what does that mean? name, use your words."

"you're not very conventionally dressed." you put it lightly.

"i think this uniform looks great on me!"

the claw misses the plushie by a large margin, and you pretend you don't hear gojo laugh. gritting your teeth, you slide in your own coin and readjust the claw. "you look terrible, like you're wearing a cosplay."

"it's the jujutsu uniform, we're all made to wear it."

"damn." you mumble, paying just enough attention to reply. the small strawberry cow plush stares into your soul, telling you that this attempt would be the one to take it home. you listen to its calling, bumping the joystick towards it. "i must have looked pretty terrible in that, then."

"you looked great." a pause. "i mean, you still do."

your hand suddenly twitches, bumping into the claw and sending it down into the pit prematurely. swearing, you watch as it inevitably misses the plushie you had been eyeing and grabs a whole clawful of nothing but air.

gojo whistles. "even without your memory, you're still as terrible. i thought losing your memories would turn you to a different person, guess you're still the same terrible player i once knew."

you whip your head to look at him. "what did you say before?"

"you're shit at the game?"

"that's not what you said. and no i'm not, you just messed me up, is all."

he's wearing that irritating smirk again and you hate how attractive you find him. "i bet i could do better."

you cross your arms, stepping back. "you’re free to try.”

unfortunately, he really is good. there’s an ease in his fingers you had lacked, a type of inherent skill that allows him to grab plushie after keychain after more plushies. at the end of it, your arms are full of every stuffed toy you could ever want, and every machine has been touched by his talented hands at least once. face framed by the heads of all of gojo’s wins, you glare at him. it pisses you off.

“whatever.” you say.

“so, still think you’re better?” gojo dangles two keychains around his finger, the sanrio characters bumping into each other as they spun. your eyes track the movement. 

“fine, you can have this win. i won’t uncover whatever cheat you used to get so many.” 

“you still can’t admit when you’ve lost.”

you huff, looking away. “i didn’t lose.” you say, but it doesn’t manage to convince even yourself. 

something flies at you and instinct has you stretching out your arms, balancing the plushies using the bend of your elbow, catching the small object easily. when you open up your palm, the small sanrio keychain stares up at you with black, beady eyes. 

you flash gojo a look and find him holding up his own keychain, the sanrio characters wearing matching sailor outfits. even though your arms are full of prizes, the tiny keychain feels the heaviest in your hands. “what’s up with you? haven’t you given me enough already?” a smile threatens to escape, but you bite down on your lip. 

gojo shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “they’re matching.” he says, as if it wasn’t obvious enough. “my students would make fun of me if i came back with these. so i’ll just give this one to you.” 

warmth overflows in you and you laugh. “looks like you still can’t admit to being cheesy.”

he doesn’t join in and your chuckles trail off, somewhat uncertain. worried that you had offended him, you sneak a peek at his expression and find him looking strangely perplexed.

something was dawning on you, and it was dawning quickly, threatening to ram into your mind and dump three years worth of memories into your brain, him in the centre of it all.

before you can breathe out the conclusion you’ve reached, the glass window at the front of the arcade shatters, and your body dodges to the side just as something flies out at you. unlike what gojo had thrown at you moments ago, this was a less appreciated move. 

gojo hisses out a curse, reaching out to grab your hand. “we need to go.” 

there’s a sense of urgency in his voice you don’t dare to disobey, so you quickly push your pile of plushies into the arm of a confused bystander, ensuring the single sanrio keychain remains in your pocket. “what’s going on?” you ask over the chaos. 

“i lied.”

“what?”

the two of you dance around the aisles, avoiding the window as much as possible. at the off chance you’re able to glance out past the shattered glass, you make out a dark figure crouched on a building opposite to the arcade, a small red light shining from their position. customers had gathered around the front, whispering amongst themselves and you feel a spike of danger. “gojo, we need to help!”

“they’re after you, name. and jujutsu techniques won’t hurt non-jujutsu citizens, the only person you should worry about is yourself.” gojo clarifies, dragging you out into the street. “they want you dead.”

his hand squeezes yours in emphasis and you wonder why it felt so natural to squeeze back. instead of bringing it up, you say, “but i thought i had time! i thought i just needed to remember…”

gojo drags you into another building, free hand pulling out a phone. “damnit.” he was muttering to himself. “they weren’t meant to realise i broke you out so quick.” 

it falls into place in an instant. the jujutsu society had never intended to give you a chance, your execution was determined the moment your body was brought to that small, ominous room, your fate sealed when the door closed shut behind you. but gojo had other plans. he had taken you out, given you one more day with him.

and then what? you wonder. what were you to him that he would go to such lengths and betray those higher? this wasn’t the time to confront your newfound memories, but you do so anyway, squeezing your eyes shut as gojo leads you further in, embracing the rush of comfort you feel as your cursed technique loosens its grip on your soul and you remember.

three years flash past your eyes, of late night slumber parties in getou’s room watching horror movies tucked under his doona, of convenience store icecream and breaking icepoles apart perfectly, of one summer night where gojo had pulled you aside, awkwardly confessing one day early simply because you had looked so pretty under the moonlight, and the teasing cheers shoko and getou had echoed when you rejoined them. the memories come faster now, and every single one is with him. 

until they don’t, until it all halts and ends in a room covered in blood. 

you gasp painfully, pulling your hand back from his to clasp at your head. you're whole again, ambitions, love, memories and all.

gojo pauses almost immediately, looking back at you with concern. “name? hey! name, what’s wrong?” 

“satoru.” you seek comfort in his name, and relish in the familiarity of saying his name. “i think i—”

he catches you as you stumble forward though there’s no time to stand around because the both of you sense your pursuers hot on your heels. you tune your technique to the employees within the office building and skim through their memories. the layout of the block sketches out across your mind, and you grab onto gojo’s hand, ignoring his words of concern as you pull him towards where you know there will be less people. “i’m fine, but not for long if we stay here. this way.”

you drag gojo around the corner, and find yourself staring at a dead end. panicked, you glance around for anything, really anything that you could hide behind, and find nothing.

"name—"

your eyes catch a door and with relief, you rush over. "satoru, in here!" he follows wordlessly, entering the storage cupboard with only the slightest hesitation, and watches as you wiggle in yourself, slamming the door behind you.

his breath tickles your forehead and you lean into his chest, telling yourself that you didn't want to be pressed against the door if it is ever thrown open by your pursuers.

gojo breathes out your name again, low so as to avoid being heard from anyone but you. “back up a little.”

“sorry.” you mumble into his chest, but there’s little space to step back.

even though he had told you to place distance between the two of you, his arm hovers on your lower back, and he clears his throat before saying, “you’re calling me satoru again.” 

you curse him. “is this the right time to be talking about this?” you glance over your shoulder to try and sense your pursuers but gojo grabs your chin, turning it back to face him.

"forget about that, look at me."

"i'm looking and let me tell you i am not impressed." you shake off his hold. "we can reunite later, right now we need to—"

"i missed you."

you almost break your neck spinning around.

your lips quiver, struggling to hold back a stupid smile. "are you serious right now? you're doing this here?"

“well.” gojo starts. something in his voice makes you look at him, look at him properly. you can’t make out the direction of his gaze past the blindfold, but you’re suddenly conscious of his lips as they part to speak. you watch as his tongue sweeps his bottom lip, out of nerves perhaps, and maybe he’s watching you just as intently because they stretch into a smirk. 

you aren’t able to revel in the sight because his lips crash onto yours in an instant, and instincts take over to reciprocate the kiss. gojo’s hand finds purchase in your hair, fingers tangled in your strands, and his other tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer. you can only vaguely feel this happen, too immersed in the feeling of his lips and tongue against yours. you press up against his chest and run your hands up his nape just the way he’s admitted to liking before. 

he tries to utter your name but it’s swallowed up by a groan. there’s a hunger in you that you doubt could be fulfilled today, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. 

you yelp as his tongue sweeps a sensitive spot in your mouth, and you almost whine when you feel him pull back, slightly. 

“sorry, are you sure you remember—” gojo starts, and you see his frown through bleary eyes.

you don’t let him finish, reaching up to continue the kiss, muttering a quick “please” in hopes that he will understand your need. he pulls you closer, parting your legs with his knees. 

when the two of you break away, you’re panting for air.

gojo tenderly brushes a strand of hair from your face. “does this mean you remember me?” he asks, voice hoarse, lips swollen, fingers lingering on your cheek. 

you resist the urge to kiss him stupid, and laugh instead. “would i  have kissed you otherwise? of course i remember.” the memories were overwhelming you still, and the emotions you feel carry over until the present you feels it too, smiling up at him like a lunatic.

he’s beaming from ear to ear, and you think he might go in for another kiss, but he drops his head onto your shoulder instead. “you don’t know how annoyed i am at you.”

running your hands through his hair, you hum. “why’s that?”

“you left me! and the worst way possible too, you know i still have trauma from getou.” 

“i had no choice.” 

“you could have taken me with you.” 

you fiddle with his ear. “your future’s too bright. you could, well, can, do better than wherever i shackle you to. i couldn’t drag you down with me. and hey, you found me anyway.” 

gojo straightens. “right, and now we’re being chased by some of the best jujutsu sorcerers and they want my lover dead.”

“i have you, aren’t you the strongest?” 

he lets that compliment settle on his shoulders before shaking his head. “i’m trying to tell you that you made a mistake. don’t you feel even the slightest remorse for leaving me?” 

you go on your tip-toes to give him a quick peck, but nothing that’ll last any longer. “of course i do, that’s why i left you the address to my apartment. but this is just the start, you know it too.” even now, you can feel the persistent cling of someone's cursed energy seeking you out.

he follows you after you pull back, and you should have none something like a peck wouldn't be enough to satisfy his longing.

gojo slides his hand into yours, and gives it a painful squeeze. pulling you close, he presses his lips fiercely against yours again, pushing past your weak defenses to savour you completely. it's hopeless, this kiss, all desperation and sorrow, and you taste your own regret in his mouth. but it can't change anything, no matter how hard he grips your cheek, no matter how painful he imprints his mouth against yours.

it's hopeless.

"satoru, you need to let me go." you mumble into the kiss, feeling his will break in your arms. 

your lips part with a pop and when he looks at you it's clear he's annoyed. "again."

"yeah, again."

"you have to understand why i don't want to do that, name." he says through gritted teeth. as if to emphasise, his fingers dig deeper into your wrists.

the sounds of footsteps thud faster, and the sensation of someone’s cursed energy radiates throughout the entire building, overwhelming and threatening you to come out. you didn’t sense anyone in the corridor yet, but that won't always be the case, it was only a matter of time, so you wriggle out of his hold, intent on running.

he catches your hand again, still frowning. "name."

"satoru, i'll find you, i promise."

he doesn't answer, his expression says enough.

you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, having been already raw from before , feeling your own reluctance to part like a throbbing ache. but if a little heartbreak was enough to stop your ambitions, you wouldn't have killed that first person way back when. “i'm going to kick down the door." you say.

gojo clicks his tongue, shaking his head shortly after. "you never stop and listen to me."

"maybe give me advice i'd take and i will." you smile to show there's no hard feelings.

he chuckles humourlessly and runs a hand through his hair, "fine, we'll do it your way. just like we always do then?"

"of course."

your countdown doesn’t come out as enthusiastic as it could have, but your body moves as you utter “three”, kicking open the door and rushing out. the door slams into the face of a sorcerer, and you wince at the sound. 

gojo walks around, holding off another pursuer. he glances back at you, reluctance obvious. “hurry.” he says, and you wonder if the urgency is due to the onslaught of sorcerers or from the thinning of his patience and his desire to chase after you. 

you give him a smile because you know the answer. running to the exit, you give him one last glance and find him staring. you reach into your pocket and pull out the keychain he’d won from you earlier, and bring it to your lips. 

“i’ll find you this time.” you mouth. 

giving up, gojo nods and turns back to deal with the attackers.

you leave him as you did the day society had forced your hand, though this time with your memories in tact. if that was the case, finding each other again would be an easy task.

you let your heart be comforted by this thought as you run. 

a/n: we almost dodged the angst ending and it would have ended with "just like we used to :smirk:?" "just like we used to... heh"

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part three.

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yourusername is it time for bahrain yet?! can’t wait to see these two back in action again soon! 🧡

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mclaren We keep asking ourselves the same thing! Our engines are ready and we’re raring to go! 🧡

↳ yourusername you truly understand me mclaren admin

↳ mclaren we think you’re the one who truly understands us y/n

↳ user y/n x mclaren admin?? 🤯 the plot twist none of us saw coming

user missing these lads so much lately

user THE RADIO SILENCE ON OSCAR’S SOCIALS WAS KILLING ME I DEPEND ON THESE MEN TOO MUCH THEY KEEP ME ALIVE 😭😭

user the f1 drought is real rn

user MCLAREN SUPREMACY 2024

↳ user i’m trying to be delulu but we all know it’s just gonna be the mv33 and redbull show again this year 🫤

user soooo are we all just gonna pretend like we didn’t see the pics of her with garrett ward orrrrr?

↳ user no bc i was just thinking the same thing 👀

↳ user wait that was actually her??? cuz you can like barely see her face so i thought it was just a joke???

user what a fake ass bitch

user she only posts other ppl on her acc cuz she knows her ugly ass face would scare everyone else away

user homegirl needs to stay tf away from my man fr 😤😤

user god what a hoe 😒 she already has these two that she could fuck with idk why she needed to go after garrett

user SLUT SLUT SLUT

user if she tries anything with anyone else on the city team i’m gonna lose my shit fr

↳ user same omg

↳ user honestly i’m just glad she didn’t go after grealish or haaland 🙌

↳ user she probably would’ve tried if they weren’t taken already 🙄

↳ user nah i bet she’s totally a homewrecker garrett’s probably just the first on her list

user oh… these comments… 😰

↳ user right???

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yourusername the city boys know how it’s done! and looking pretty good in orange too 😉

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mancity The lads are looking good indeed! This weekend’s match against Newcastle should be an exciting one! ⚽️🩵

mclaren ✍️ Jeremy ✍️ Doku ✍️ and ✍️ Ruben ✍️ Dias ✍️ McLaren ✍️ 2025

↳ mancity Do you think Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri would look good in sky blue? 🤔

user funny how she posts every city man BUT garrett

user god when does she go back to f1??

↳ user march iirc

↳ user well it can’t get here soon enough jfc

user FUCK OFF WE DON’T WANT YOU

user you’re a slag and should accept the fact that any guy would only want you bc of how easy you are

user i’ll bet my left leg that the only reason the f1 boys haven’t shacked up with her yet is cuz they know she’s probably riddled with disease since she drools over every guy that comes near her 😒 like girl needs to bffr and realize that throwing herself at every male in her vicinity isn’t gonna land her a husband and it just making her even more of a slut

↳ user nah i’ll bet they’ve all already done her over in f1 but nobody will touch her now that they’ve passed her round so she had to come over to football just to try and get someone to touch her again 🙄🙄🙄

user i hope garrett realizes how much of a slut she is and breaks up with her

user sick and tired of bitches like this getting with footballers and being all controlling. like i’ll bet she’s gonna tell garrett he can’t go out and party with his mates anymore bc he has to spend time in with her and then she’ll get all pissy about him having female fans bc she’s insecure and knows that if garrett got to meet a REAL fan he’d jump ship immediately. those of us who ACTUALLY care about footballers know their fans are super important to them and we wouldn’t hinder their relationship with them just bc we’re jealous or insecure. garrett needs to be with someone who actually supports him and is willing to let him do what he wants instead of controlling him like he’s a dog on a leash.

user kys like genuinely

user god i can’t wait for this skank to die 😒

“Hey Lando, it’s me. Your best friend. Again,” you give a humorless chuckle. “I could seriously use some of your wizened advice right about now, so, uh, please just give me a call back when you can. Thanks.”

It seems poetic in a cruel sort of way that less than a week ago you were walking Etihad Campus and feeling like you were on top of the world━ working a new albeit temporary gig, adding the Manchester City name to your list of clients, having photos of world-renowned footballers in your portfolio━ and now you’ve resigned yourself to hiding away in the women’s restroom, locked in a stall because it’s the only place you could think of where nobody would be able to find you.

You’re on the verge of tears and feeling rather stupid for it.

It’s the third time today alone that your call has gone straight to voicemail, and with the dozens of unread texts you’ve sent in the last week added to the mix, it’s starting to paint a picture you’re not very happy with. Lando is ignoring you. Or he’s blocked you. Or he’s blocked you because he’s ignoring you━

You bite down on your lip, hard, to keep back the sob crawling its way up your throat.

You’re not a PR officer, you hadn’t been lying when you told Garrett that, but you’ve spent enough time around the McLaren PR teams that you’ve picked up enough tips and tricks to know, at the very least, that the best thing you can do is just ignore the comments.

That’s what they tell all the athletes.

What they don’t tell the athletes is that ignoring the comments is much easier said than done, especially when your career requires you to have such a significant online presence. And the thing is, despite all of these strangers hounding you with every name under the sun and criticizing your capabilities, qualifications, and very existence, the thing that hurts the most is the radio silence from the only person you know could make it all better.

Now, more than ever, you need your best friend. But he isn’t here.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and unlock the stall with great reluctance. You know better than to be hiding away, shirking your responsibilities while crying over a few missed phone calls. You have a job to do, and a real professional wouldn’t let something as simple as a handful of tasteless comments get in the way of that.

You should be used to them. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.

Your first month at McLaren wasn’t entirely different.

When you were first hired on, Carlos had been in Formula One for a handful of years already and had built up a devotedly loyal fanbase with a decently large percentage of possessive fangirls who had come for your head the moment your existence had been announced.

The McLaren Instagram account had posted a picture of you standing between their two grinning drivers, your camera strung around your neck, with a very nice caption welcoming you to the team, and despite no indication that you were by any means involved with either of them in a way that went beyond professional, the comments had been taken over by feral teenage girls who saw the act of you simply standing near Carlos to be a direct threat against their “chances.”

Though it had been frustrating being met with childish threats and petty insults in your comments, you hadn’t really held it against any of them. You remember being a teenage girl and crushing on a celebrity. Deep down you knew you never had a chance with them, but that hadn’t stopped you from hanging posters in your bedroom and doodling their name beneath yours inside of scribbled hearts in your diary.

Regardless, it had taken close to a month for the negativity to die down, and you hadn’t had Lando then, either, so now shouldn’t be much different.

In fact, everyone on the Manchester City team━ trainers, physios, media coordinatiors, and anyone inbetween━ has been very polite about everything between you and Garrett. A lot of them have just avoided saying anything about it, which you’re very grateful for because you don’t think you’d be able to hold back your grimace while thanking them for their well wishes, and the few who have mentioned it typically only say something vague like a wishing you the best of luck or hoping you’re happy.

An intern gave you a sympathetic smile the other day, and you’d nearly burst into tears in the middle of the office of the Director of Communications, so you know you aren’t truly alone in this.

You just feel alone.

Exiting the bathroom is a simple affair. There’s no one standing post outside ready to give you any shit for being hidden away, and nobody comes sprinting around the corner as you make your way down the hall to the press conference room that’s been temporarily turned into your base of operations.

You think you’ll probably be able to go the rest of the afternoon without running into anyone, when you open your door and find━ sitting in the front row of the seats typically saved for journalists and the press, scrolling across his phone with a disinterested look painted across his face━ Jack Grealish.

“Jack,” you greet, a bit shocked. You close the door to the room gently behind you, and cross the distance to your desk. “Did we have a meeting scheduled? It must’ve completely slipped my mind, I sincerely apologize.”

He offers you a polite smile. “No, we didn’t, so no need to be sorry. I actually just wanted to check in. See how things are going with everything.”

You blink at him in surprise. Apart from Garrett, you haven’t really had much time to speak with the other players. They wish you good morning and good afternoon when they see you, and if a ball goes astray they always call out for you to watch your head, but between their morning training and their afternoon training, their strategy reviews at lunch, and the frequent in between meetings with physios, nutritionists, and trainers, they don’t get much time to chit chat with a simple photographer.

You clear your throat, “Erm, it’s going well. I’ve gotten some really good shots these past few days. There’s one with Rodrigo that I’m particularly proud of. It should do well with the fans.”

“And things with Ward?”

You purse your lips.

“Figured.” Jack sighs. “Look, nearly everyone you run into here knows or has at least some inkling into what he’s like. He’s a prick. None of the lads on the team like him, it’s why the managers are trying to get him out of here.”

You lower yourself down into your chair. “He told me they were planning to trade him off because of his reputation.”

Jack scoffs, “Yeah, ‘cause that’s the ‘official’ reason. They can’t cut his contract early for legal reasons, so they’re waiting for it to expire and coming up with an excuse for why they ain’t re-signing him. It’s really just ‘cause the rest of us can’t keep dealing with his massive ego and the fact that he’s a misogynistic fuck who doesn’t know the first thing about respect.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” you mutter with a sigh.

If he expected you to defend Garrett and is surprised by the fact that you haven’t, Jack doesn’t show it. He looks relaxed sitting across from you, like you’re having a casual conversation and not actively shit talking a member of his team. It gives you the impression that he knows significantly more about Garrett than you do, and that because of what he knows he probably figured out that one party in the relationship is not the most willing of participants.

“How’d you get all wrapped up it in then? Didn’t figure you to be the type to go after pricks like Ward.”

You debate over whether you should tell him or not. There isn’t much Jack can do about the situation regardless, but it would at least get things off your chest and if someone else knew then maybe you wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

There’s only so many days you can spend hiding out in the women’s restroom trying not to bawl your eyes out, and you’ve already reached your limit.

You heave a sigh, “It’s kind of fucked up really.” A pen on your desk catches your attention and you start to fiddle with it, avoiding Jack’s eyes which have focused directly onto you. “He asked if I would help him fix up his reputation by pretending to be his girlfriend so he could show everyone that he’s matured and can hold down a steady relationship. When I told him no, he threatened to make up a lie about inappropriate conduct to get me fired and blacklisted from the industry, so for the sake of preserving my career I agreed.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Jack murmurs, shaking his head. “I’m real sorry he did that, Y/N.”

You shrug. “It’s happened, so, there’s nothing I can really do except wait it out at this point.”

When you look up and meet his gaze, Jack looks murderous. His hands are clenched into fists on the armrests, knuckles white with the strength of his grip. His brows are furrowed, and his lips are twisted downward in a scowl.

“If you need anything,” he starts, “let me know. And I mean it. We all know how Ward can be. He’s a knobhead. So if you need anything━” his emphasis on the word and what that implies makes you feel more comforted than anything has since the whole fiasco started, “━then you let me know, or you tell one of the other boys and they’ll find me, alright?”

All you can do is nod.

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yourusername there’s no place like home

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━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry

━━ a/n: no lando yet, but we've got a cutesy little grealish scene to make up for it because i couldn't have a story with manchester city and not include him! lowkey writing this part made me wanna write for a footballer too... anyways! hope you all enjoy!

[felpimburning]

SVSSS/PIDW au where Shen Yuan transmigrates as a child, like he died in his old body as a four-year-old, I'm just gonna say he was shot by some guy with a gun who was getting payed by *insert rival company to the Shens* to kill a member of the family, and the guy didn't wanna orphan some kids so he just shot one of them and ran tf out of there.

Shen Yuan just wakes up in an alleyway as some OC insert that looks exactly like him but he was basically just tricked by the system in thinking he was going to play a game. He is disgusted by how dirty the clothes he's wearing are and wants to stop playing the game so he can be clean.

Cue him eventually getting hungry and asking a lady for some food with tears eyes and the lady folds like a wet tissue to a sad child and just hands him some tanghulu, which Shen Yuan is very happy about.

Yue Qi eventually sees this young and sad child just munching on some tanghulu in an alleyway and just immediately and internally adopts him, because the boy very much reminds him of his Xiao-Jiu, he becomes even more firm on adopting this child once he learns his surname is also Shen.

Yue Qi introduces the confused but happy Shen Yuan to Shen Jiu and is excited to see how they interact. Shen Jiu kicks it off by saying he wants this new child gone, he doesn't want to share HIS Qi-ge, but he slowly grows curious enough to let Shen Yuan stay, he just wants to know why his hair is so short and why he is also a Shen, maybe they're related and he also got abandoned, because he keeps crying about how he misses his family.

Of course months go by and Shen Yuan gets severely attached to his new siblings, thinking he was abandoned by his real family and not wanting them to leave him, so he is very clingy, and Shen Jiu is not happy with this, he wants his Yuan-di to stop being so emotional, people are going to take advantage of the fact he's so nice, and Shen Jiu might not be there to help him, which makes him annoyed because he wants to be seen as strong enough to protect both Qi-ge and Yuan-di.

A year passes and Shen Jiu is six now, Shen Yuan had turned five, and Yue Qi has turned 8 and eventually presents as an alpha.

(Yes, plot twist, there is omegaverse because I said so.)

Yue Qi's alpha pheromones kick in and he becomes ten times more attached to his little brothers, and he would gladly bite anyone who hurt them (Yes, this has already happened).

Shen Jiu dislikes how strong his Qi-ge's scent is and tells him that it's so musky and he should learn to dim it down a little bit. Shen Yuan just tells his Qi-ge that Jiu-ge is absolutely right, Yue Qi agrees.

Eventually, the slave traffickers find out Shen Jiu and Yue Qi have been technically smuggling Shen Yuan around and they're happy because they have another person to get them money, so, what do they do?

They brand him and form a contract, now referring to him as Shiyi.

Shen Jiu and Yue Qi absolutely refuse to call their didi anything but his name, and of course, Yuan-di or Xiao-Yuan.

Things go as normal with the three brothers all being little shits.

Two years pass and Shen Jiu presents as an omega.

He despises it and insists on pretending to be a beta, Shen Yuan is confused but doesn't argue, he has seen how people often treat omegas, and it isn't very kindly.