#a whole day has passed and I did nothing but to write this text

[ifwdominicfike]

the words i cant say

summary - matt is infatuated with you, you’re all he ever thinks about now. having no one to let these secrets out to, he decided why not write about them instead..

it was killing him, having to keep these secrets to himself for so long was tiring. the only thing being his outlet was his journal, pages among pages filled with him just rambling about you. of course he would never tell you these things, afraid of going over your boundaries and ruining the whole friendship.

if you were to ask him what he loved most about you he wouldn’t be able to answer that question, he loved every single bit of you. of course he wrote about that as well, he couldn’t not think about you even if he tried.

a couple weeks ago..

“her everything is perfect, her eyes, her style, her humor, the way her smile brightens when i compliment her on anything - june 19th”

“she looked so pretty today, i kept staring at her lips i hope she didn’t notice.. - june 25th”

“her voice is the sweetest thing i’ve ever heard, i can talk to her for hours - july 12th”

“i cant help but wonder if she thinks about me the way i think about her - july 22nd”

to shorten it down he was in love with you, and he had no plan of telling you anytime soon.

he wanted to push these feelings away, feeling bad for pining over his own best friend while you had no knowledge of it. he couldn’t help it though, he thinks back to the countless amount of times you two had spent together. late night drives, going thrifting, or just staying in watching cheesy rom-com movies.

during group settings his eyes would wonder over to you, staring longingly at you laughing and smiling big while you were having the time of your life. you would turn your head and see his light colored eyes looking at you with a soft expression, which ended up in both of you turning away while heat rushed to your cheeks.

there was some nights where you stayed up thinking about him, just wondering what if? but you brushed it off, thinking maybe its all in your head..

you were coming over today, it was nothing new, you always came over to hang out when you didn’t have anything specifically planned. you were excited to see matt, you haven’t seen him in two weeks due to his work schedule and all of his meetings piled up. he finally had a free day and you were overly excited when he asked you if you wanted to hang out.

you loved spending time with him, no matter what it was. as long as it was with him you were happy.

he had texted you to come whenever you wanted, you were already in pretty comfy clothes so you got your keys and left. the drive there was calm, music flowing through the car consumed the silence and before you know it you’re already in their driveway.

you texted matt that you were outside already and not even a minute passes before you hear the door unlock and open, you were met with his disheveled figure, hair messy, slightly cropped shirt and sweatpants resting low on his waist..

“finally kid you’re here, you were taking forever” a smile spread across his face as he rolled his eyes sarcastically. you step inside as he holds the door for you, “i haven’t seen you in forever and you already have a attitude??” you say raising an eyebrow as you set your keys down on the table.

“oh come on, you know i missed you doll.” that name. you didn’t hear it often but when you did your cheeks would turn bright red as you stumble over your words. that stupid grin on his face said everything you needed to know. “i missed you too, matt!!” you flashed a cheesy smile at him before you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest.

a couple months ago..

“the feeling of her arms around my waist feels so right.. wish i could always have her this close. - january 17th”

“she has to know what she’s doing, right?? fuck. her smile makes me weak. - january 29th”

“she looked gorgeous in that top with the little bow, her hair done up differently, her pretty jewelry scattered around her figure as well, i couldn’t help but steal glances each time she wasn’t looking in the car. - february 6th”

you return the hug, his comforting scent surrounds you, making you feel at peace. finally feeling his warmth that you longed for for a little too long, you both pull away and his face lights up. “shit- i forgot i had gotten you something when i was away, come on” your face forms into a confused expression “you didn’t have to do that matt, you know that right??” your smile still being very evident as you protest him getting you a gift.

“yeah yeah i know, but it made me think of you so i haddd to get it!” he grabbed your hand and dragged you over to his room, you flop down on the bed as he searches around looking for the gift. you hear him scattering around while muttering words to himself until a certain book under his pillow catches your eye.. you didn’t know matt was getting into reading? “ooh matt what book are you reading?” you hold it up to show him the hardcover journal.

“huh? im not readin- WAIT!“ you open it up to see your name on the first page, several times actually. you scan through it curiously, you finally realize that it was definitely not a regular book. he was basically confessing his love to you in every single page, matt was too late as he rushed over to you snatching the book from your hands.

you quickly stand up, jaw basically on the floor and your face redder than ever. you didn’t even know what to say, its not like you didn’t feel the same because you did.. its just you couldn’t believe he wrote all of that about you. “l-look y/n i can explain i just-“ his words coming out in stutters “matt, matt please, just calm down. okay? y-you’re okay, come on..” you lead him back over to his bed, both of you sitting down at the edge. “im really, really sorry y/n you weren’t supposed to read that. i understand if you feel uncomfortable or if you wanna leav-“ you cut him off bringing your hand to his cheek and leaning in, your lips colliding with his.

you caught him off guard but he instantly kisses back, you smile into the kiss and bring your other hand to back of his neck pulling him more in. his hands traveling down to your hips, holding onto you like you could disappear any moment. you both finally pull away, heavy breathing while you watch that same stupid grin form on his face.

“what?” you ask laughing. “nothing, its just- i’ve always thought i would be the one to kiss you first” his smirk growing wider by the second. “oh shut up, you’re so corny” you roll your eyes in a playful manner and push at his shoulder a little.

“i really did mean it you know? everything i said in that journal. you really, really mean a lot to me and i- i can’t see myself loving anyone else other than you y/n. since the first day i met you.” tears forming in your eyes as he continues to talk, “you mean everything to me. words can’t express how i feel for you, i would’ve said something sooner but i didn’t wanna ruin the relationship we already had and-“ you laugh at his mouth running off again, his nervousness taking over once more.

“matt, please im so sorry but shh. i feel the same way, you weren’t really the best at hiding that staring problem of yours you know..” you giggle at his embarrassed expression “i love you, a lot. you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, you were always there for me whenever i needed someone and you never fail to make my days better. i love you so much.” he watches you in awe, how could someone so precious be in front of him right now?

“so does this mean like, im your boyfriend now, right..?” you giggle and take his hand into yours “well.. i dont know, i haven’t been asked yet..” he smiles and gives your hand a small kiss. “y/n, may i be your boyfriend?” your smile growing ten times bigger before you nod your head immediately. “yes, yes yes YES!” your arms instantly wrapping around his neck as you pull him into another kiss, this time it was filled with love, and patience. the world stopped the second you two filled the gap in between, until you feel him pull back.

“i love you so fucking much y/n. words wont ever be enough for me to show you how much i really do.”

“wait. what about my gift though?”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

my first fic.. this took me like 2 days to write because i had no idea on how to go with this, i feel like its kinda all over the place too it feels rushed to me idk why 😭😭 if there is any mistakes or missing words, NO THERE ISNT. please be nice, again this is my first time writing. im always open for ideas or tips on anything!! also thank you to @flouvela for encouraging me on writing this ILYSM GF 🤍🤍 ok bye now!!

[daeniradraconis]

Banter Between the Lines - Hughes Brothers

Author's Note: Hey, so here’s another quick chat-style piece! I haven’t had much time to sit down and write properly lately, so short and sweet it is for now. 😊 Feel free to send me some requests if you’d like! (You can check out the "rules" here: link). I can’t promise when I’ll get to them, but I’ll definitely find time soon.

Summary: A little fluff with a touch of smut (nothing too crazy, just some extra flirting). Quinn’s girlfriend roasts the boys while calling them out in their group chat.

Warnings: Nothing major, just some mention of 🍆.

It was one of those quiet Sunday nights where everything felt slow. You'd spent the evening catching up on your favorite shows, but it was hard to concentrate when all you could think about was Quinn. The constant distance between you two had become harder to ignore with each passing day, and as much as you loved how happy he was with his team, you missed him. And, truthfully, you missed the whole family.

You’d gotten close to Jack and Luke over the years, and now, with Quinn playing for the Vancouver Canucks and Jack and Luke together on the New Jersey Devils, the family dynamic felt a little more spread out than you liked. Sure, they’d all make time for you when they could, but it wasn’t the same as those days when you’d all hang out together.

Tonight, instead of a call or a quick text, you decided to turn to something a little more familiar. You opened up youtube and searched for their latest highlights.

All three of them were struggling on the ice, and it showed. It hurt to see them like this, especially when you couldn’t do much to help. So you did what you always did in times like these—opened the group chat and prepared to roast them into oblivion. If nothing else, it might make them laugh.

you: just finished your highlights. Quinn, congrats on being the saddest guy on the ice again 🥇. Jack, loved the mini tantrum energy 👏. Luke, did you forget which team you play for? because those turnovers were next-level.

Jack: wow, you really woke up and chose violence.

you: always. someone has to keep you humble.

Luke: humble? this feels more like a personal attack.

Quinn: what would you call it, then?

Luke: bullying.

you: oh, Lukey, don’t take it so hard. I tease because I care 💕

Jack: you literally plotted my ex’s demise last month. is that “caring” too?

you: first of all, it wasn’t a plot. it was more of a… fantasy.

Quinn: putting her in the ground “while she’s still breathing” doesn’t sound like a fantasy…

you: listen, if she hadn’t been such a manipulative little snake, I wouldn’t have had to consider it 🐍

Luke: terrifying. but honestly? fair.

Jack: I could’ve handled her myself, you know.

you: oh, really? because from where I was sitting, she had you wrapped around her finger like a puppet.

Quinn: she’s not wrong!

Jack: whose side are you on?

Quinn: hers. always.

you: damn right honey. and don’t worry, I’m not plotting her demise anymore… unless she tries to come back. then all bets are off.

Jack: remind me to never date again. you’re scarier than Quinn’s slap shot.

You grinned as the banter flew back and forth, but your focus shifted to Luke. His disastrous date still didn’t sit right with you.

you: okay, but seriously, Lukey. I've heard some gossip. how does a girl ditch you mid-dinner? you’re literally the sweetest human alive.

Luke: THANK YOU! finally, someone gets it.

Jack: don’t encourage him. he needs to toughen up.

you: excuse me? let him be sweet! not every guy needs to have your level of 'I’m too cool for feelings,' Jack.

Quinn: valid point.

Luke: thank you, Quinn.

you: honestly, Luke, I’ll never understand how she left. did you say something weird?

Luke: no!!! I was perfectly normal.

Quinn: “normal” is a stretch…

Jack: is this really the same guy who told a girl on a first date he’d make six different accounts just to sort himself into Hufflepuff six different times because he didn’t 'trust the algorithm'?

Luke: OKAY, THAT’S DIFFERENT. I was being honest!

you: oh, Lukey. you’re lucky you’re adorable because that is painful 😂

Luke: this is why I didn’t want to tell you guys.

Quinn: bro, it’s fine. just embrace the awkward puppy vibe. it’s clearly your brand.

Luke: I hate you.

Jack: ugh, why does he get the sympathy? roast him more guys!!! I can’t be the only one taking L’s here.

you: because Luke doesn’t put ketchup on his eggs like a serial killer, Jack.

Luke: yeah, what is WRONG with you? ketchup on eggs? really?

Jack: you people are so dramatic. it’s normal.

Quinn: nothing about that is normal.

you: thank you, Quinn. once again, the only rational person in this chat.

Jack: stop flirting with my brother. it’s disgusting.

Luke: seriously. I can feel the weird vibes through my phone.

You smirked, knowing exactly how to push their buttons.

you: you’re just mad because Quinn’s risotto is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

Quinn: best risotto AND lasagna. don’t forget!

you: how could I? it’s the only reason I keep you around. And of course your magic 🍆

Quinn: oh, not my sparkling personality? btw you're objectifying my body...

you: hmm… maybe that too. but i have my priorities straight!

Jack: 🤢 STOP. this is disgusting.

Luke: seriously. this is TMI guys!!

you: just jealous, you two can’t even scramble eggs properly.

Quinn: cooking skills = key to a woman’s heart.

Luke: ugh. golden child strikes again.

Jack: some of us don’t need to cook because we have charisma, thank you very much.

Quinn: does your charisma excuse ketchup on eggs? because it shouldn’t.

Luke: still the biggest red flag in this chat.

Jack: Y’ALL ARE SO DRAMATIC.

You smiled at their bickering, your heart full, untouched by their chaos.

you: okay, but for real… I miss you guys 💔.

Luke: aww, finally some love.

Jack: are you feeling okay?!

you: don’t get used to it. but yeah, I miss you. Quinn, risotto night when you’re home! Jack and Luke, you can come eat it too.

Quinn: deal. but I’m ignoring them for the first hour I’m back. i need my time with you!

Luke: RUDE!

Jack: gross. is this the flirting portion of the chat? can we not?

you: love you too, boys. even if you’re disasters.

Jack: love you too. now stop flirting with Quinn before I puke.

Luke: seriously. save it for your own chat.

Quinn: jealousy doesn’t look good on you two.

Luke: jealous of what? your cooking? maybe. your 🍆? absolutely not.

you: you should be Lukey! your brother got some great 🍆

Jack: I’m OUT.

Luke: same.

Quinn: good job hon. guess it’s just us now. you: just how I like it 😘

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 8

Source for pic

Trouble 8

Word Count: 5093

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I am DYING to write the next chapter... just you wait...! Now I need to know each and every one of your thoughts on this, please!

Masterlist

“Roronoa.”

“Cap.” Zoro matches his long strides with Mihawk’s. The hospital beeps sound faintly from the rooms they pass, and nurses hasten their steps to answer some wailing woman two rooms down. 

Mihawk stops abruptly in front of a room, and his amber gaze pierces Zoro's eye. “I know you just got back and barely had any time to rest, but I thought you might want to be present when we interrogate him.”

Zoro nods. It's another one. Another man has shown up with missing limbs and a note. A crime of passion seems far-fetched now. This case and Lucci’s are definitely related. They're too similar to be a coincidence. 

Besides, Zoro doesn't really believe in coincidences. 

“Has someone talked to him already?” Zoro asks as Mihawk’s hand sets on the handle. 

“The doctors haven't let anyone near him yet. And they say he's heavily sedated, so we might not get much out of him for now.” Mihawk is directly involved now, and that alone tells Zoro they are about to treat this case with the level of respect it demands. 

“After you, Cap.”

The door swings back as Mihawk pushes it, and both men stand near the hospital bed. Zoro recognizes the man immediately. He's the store clerk of the grocery shop he usually goes to. 

“Hello. I'm Captain Dracule Mihawk, and this is Officer Roronoa. The nurses told you we were coming, right?” 

The man nods, his eyes glazed over and out of focus. Then he raises his arm as if he’s going to run his fingers through his hair, but groans when his stump hits his forehead instead. 

“I have nothing to say.” He sounds slightly frightened as his voice wavers, with shaky breaths escaping his lips. 

Mihawk ignores him, a scowl forming on his lips. “What do you remember about the person who did this to you?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Any detail is important. Height, build, voice, distinctive features–”

“I have nothing to say!”

Mihawk inhales deeply. Zoro knows his Captain is a very patient man. If he were the one doing the interrogating, he would be shaking the man by his collar right now. Couldn't the man see they were trying to help him? 

“So you were threatened.” It's not a question. It's a mere statement. The man's eyes fill with tears as his chin trembles slightly. 

“What am I supposed to do now? My hands were my job. I can't do my job without my hands!” He sobs, his shoulders sagging. “Not just my job… How am I supposed to live like this? He ruined everything.”

Mihawk places one hand on his shoulder, his hawk-like gaze losing a bit of its edge for a moment. “It's not all lost. You're alive, and that's more than many people can say. We're trying to help you. We want to catch the bastard who did this before they can hurt somebody else. But we need your help to do it.”

The man closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then he starts talking. He says that it was a man who did this - massive, bulky and really tall. He had a mask covering his face, a hoodie and gloves on, so any detailed description is off the table. He also had a rough voice and immediately threatened him if he shared the details of what happened with the cops. 

“After he… when he… he said to never touch what's his again. I didn't understand what he meant. I was in shock, I guess.” He sighs, his head falling back. “Can you call the nurse? I can't take this pain anymore.”

Mihawk nods, and Zoro turns, ready to leave, but the man isn't done yet. “He had maniacal red eyes and seemed amused by my suffering.” 

The clap of the notebook his Captain had been scribbling on signals they’re done, so Zoro takes another step towards the door while Mihawk thanks the man for his help. But when they’re halfway through the door, he speaks again. 

“I should've listened to her. She said someone was coming for me.”

Her?

“Who are you talking about?” Zoro speaks for the first time, his stomach churning with unease. 

The man shrugs and shakes his head, his chin trembling again as, most likely, the threats the criminal spewed fill his mind. “It's nothing. Nothing. Forget it.”

“Who is she?”

“I said fucking forget it. Leave me alone, I'm done!” 

Zoro grits his teeth, his instincts driving him towards the hospital bed, ready to drill the man with more questions until they get what they came for. But Mihawk’s firm grasp on his shoulder stops him. 

“We'll leave. Rest. Thank you.” They both leave the room, and Zoro growls as soon as the door clicks behind him. 

“He knows more!”

“And you should know when to stop. Let him rest. We'll try again another day.” Mihawk starts walking, and Zoro follows, staying silent when his Captain asks the nurses to check on the man. “I have a feeling this case is just getting started, anyway.”

Mihawk’s foreboding words echo in Zoro's brain all the way back to his car. The creep who's doing this is leaving him uneasy. A feeling of dread tightens his stomach and constricts his heart. 

All he can think about is keeping you safe, and he can't exactly pinpoint why. 

Though it's quite a coincidence that Rob Lucci ogles you and gets his eyes removed, and the store clerk hits on you and gets his hands chopped. Quite a coincidence indeed. 

And Zoro doesn't fucking believe in coincidences. 

-*-

You take your car to Robin's, even though Nami offered to pick you up, knowing how unreliable your old car can be sometimes, because you want to avoid having Zoro bring you home. And, gosh, you want nothing more than to spend time with Zoro, but if you can help it, you'll do whatever’s in your power to keep him from touching you. 

No matter how hard that might be. 

You don't even know how you’re going to get into the right mood to party with your friends. They all have so much energy, and you… don't. At least not right now. 

Briefly, you wonder how many times you’re going to use the ‘I'm just tired’ excuse today, but a buzz from your phone distracts your thoughts. 

Unknown: Remember, Kitten, no one touches what's mine.  Unknown: Behave, be a good girl for me, and I won't be upset.  Unknown: I'm always watching. 

You stuff your phone into your pocket before forcing a fake smile onto your lips and buzzing the doorbell of Robin's apartment. She opens the door with a smile that quickly turns into a frown upon setting her eyes on you. 

Not even all the makeup in the world can disguise the massive bags beneath your eyes, the redness in them, or the frayed look. And even if it could, Robin is your most perceptive friend. 

Still, she doesn't address the matter directly. She simply gives you a tighter hug than usual and whispers in your ear: “You need anything, honey? I won't ask questions, even if it's murder.”

The laugh that bubbles up in your throat is completely genuine, and you feel a little lighter. “Oh, trust me, Robin, I know you're the one to ask! But I'm okay, just tired, I guess.”

That's one. 

“Are you sure? You know I know ways to get rid of a body without getting caught…”

“Nico, I'm right here. I have no qualms about taking your ass to jail, you know?”

He's teasing Robin, but his piercing eye is set on you and you have to bite your lower lip to stifle a sob. Zoro's mere presence exudes safety and all you want to do is rush into his arms and forget everything. Forget about feeling scared, trapped, helpless and useless. 

He's right there. 

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?” Robin smirks, shoves Zoro playfully, and returns to her home, leaving you two alone in the doorway, where Zoro leans casually. You notice his piercing gaze assessing the dishevelled state of your hair, the lack of care with your chosen outfit, the way your hands fidget with the hem of your jacket, and surely the way your lip trembles. 

“Hi. Not today, Zo.” You give him a soft smile along with your chill greeting, but the slight buzz in your pocket alerts you, and reminds you not to push it, so you quickly erase it from your face. 

Zoro's eye widens, and he crosses his arms as his brows scrunch. “Is everything–”

“I'm just tired.”

Two.

“See you inside, I’ve got to go greet our friends.” You try to get past him, but he stretches his arm across the doorway and blocks your path. You inhale a quick breath and are inundated with the smell of steel and his musky scent. Safety. Protection. 

… Home…

“Hey. Talk to me.” He mumbles, reaching and tilting your chin slightly so he can look into your eyes. “You look like you haven't slept in days.”

Bzzzz.

You shake your head both as an answer to his question and to deflect his touch. A quick step away brings your back against the doorway, his arm right next to your face and he leans in, seeing you're trapped. 

“Yeah, I know. Too much farm work, I guess. I'm just–”

“Tired?” That's three. 

You nod. Bzzzz. Then you flinch, and Zoro arches his eyebrow. 

“Talk inside, okay?” And before he says anything else, or does anything else - because it's starting to prove impossible to stay away from him - you duck beneath his arm and scurry inside. 

-*-

What the royal fuck? 

Tired? That's not tired. That's exhausted. You look like you've been through hell and back and, apparently, you don't want to tell him why. 

What's going on? 

Zoro follows you inside and closes the door behind him. He watches as you force a smile on your usually cheery face and greet the rest of your friends. Then he watches as Luffy hugs you tighter than usual - probably noticing your frayed state - and watches you push him away, your hand flying to your pocket. 

You stare at your phone, eyes darting back and forth - reading - then you close them shut with an almost imperceptible shudder, and put the phone back in your pocket. 

What is going on? 

He watches you when you think nobody's watching, and he sees the way your hands tremble as you reach for a sandwich you only nibble on, giving the rest to Luffy. He sees the way your eyes dart around the room and the way you avoid windows, preferring to sit in the middle of the living room and on the floor. 

He's especially interested in whoever is texting you, because you can't seem to let go of your phone. Though the texts don't make you happy. They seem to upset you. 

He also sees the way you avoid the Cook and all his flamboyant attention. He realises that your actions are so thought out, so careful, that you're not even your clumsy self. He sees you struggle, trying to smile and to engage. 

To pretend. 

But mostly, he watches as you actively avoid him all night. 

Something is definitely going on. And he's going to find out what. 

-*-

Unknown: The Vinsmoke is too flirty. Get away from him.  Unknown: You're doing so well, Kitten.  Unknown: Avoiding the cop all night. Look how well-behaved you are. 

The hundredth involuntary shudder assaults you. You're trying. By all that is sacred, you really are trying to be good. 

But you feel watched. Not that usual uneasiness that comes from the creep watching you, no. Sadly, you're already getting used to that dreadful feeling. What you're feeling right now is the piercing gaze of Zoro. He's watching your every move. And all you want to do is gravitate towards him. 

He's right there. 

With a heavy sigh, you collect the empty plate of the food you never touched - thank God for Luffy's unending appetite - and go to the kitchen to set it in the sink. 

“Need help?” Fuck. You just saw Zoro snoozing on the couch. Does he have superpowers or something? Now you're both alone. 

Your heart starts hammering away in your chest as you rinse the plate and set it aside. With a deep, steadying breath, you turn, holding a dish towel in your hands as you dry them. “Thanks, Zoro, I'm all done.”

The smile plastered on your lips feels as fake as the little plastic birds Robin has adorning her windowsill. But you try to sell it as you drop the dish towel and start to move to get away from him as fast as you can. 

“So you're running from me again?”

Shit. 

“What are you talking about, Zo? I'm just heading back, you can come too if you want.” But he doesn't move. And he's blocking the door. 

“Stop lying to me, Trouble. You've been avoiding me all night.” Does he actually sound hurt? “What's going on?”

“I'm just–”

“Don't even think about giving me that crap about being tired. You're not tired. You look like hell.”

Bzzzz.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk.” You try to make light of the matter and get past him to go to the living room, but he grabs your shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh. 

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

You flinch and shudder, your eyes closing with a gasp. 

“Stop. Talk to me.” You sigh and close your eyes. You want to tell him everything. “Are you still getting those weird gifts? Is that what this is?”

Yes! And so much more! “No, Zoro. The gifts stopped, the person must have given up.” You sigh, the lies coming easier than you would’ve liked them to. “I'm tired. I hate being alone in that big house, and I miss my dad. That's all.” Some truth mixed with the lies might just help you sell them. 

He nods, and his hands squeeze tighter. “I get that. But that doesn't explain why you're running from me.” Bzzzz. You flinch again and roll your shoulders, trying to evade Zoro's touch because you know that's what the texts are sure to be about. “See? Why are you avoiding my touch, Trouble?”

Shit! 

“I'm not.” Wow. That lie wouldn't fool a child. 

“Prove it.” What? You raise your brow, lips curling into a dumbfounded expression. “Let’s finish what we started. Let me kiss you.”

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

No. God, no. 

You want to. You want this nightmare to come to an end. You want Zoro to kiss you, and to hold you, but mostly, you want him to protect you. To help you crawl out of this miserable rut you got yourself into. 

But you can't. Because you know the texts that await you are all threats to his safety, and you can't risk him. You just can't. 

“I… Zo… I'm not feeling well, another time, maybe.”

You can't bear the hurt in his eyes so you look down, but he doesn't relent. “I thought… I thought we had something. I thought you wanted…” His hands cup your cheeks and he forces you to look at him.  “This.”

You do. God you want all of it. 

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

Zoro leans slowly. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Your throat feels dry, your phone doesn't stop vibrating and there's not enough air in the world to fill your lungs. 

“I did. Before.” You leave it at that and he's so surprised by your answer that you take advantage and slip past him, trying to hold back sobs as you quickly make up an excuse to your friends and leave. 

You shouldn't have come. This was a mistake. You just managed to hurt Zoro. 

Fuck. 

-*-

You don't quite know how you made it home, but you did. Tears kept streaming down your face, and you blinked them away furiously, but reaching home and locking the door behind you doesn't bring the sense of safety it used to. 

Everything is tainted. You don't feel safe anywhere. 

The phone burns a hole in your pocket with its incessant buzzing. Someone called you on your way over, and you bet it was Zoro. You don't dare to look, as you already know there are dozens of texts from your interactions with Zoro tonight. 

He almost kissed you, and he was so adamant in trying to find out what’s wrong with you. Your friends noticed something was up, but the tired excuse worked perfectly with them, whereas with Zoro… 

He didn't buy it for an instant. 

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

“God, just stop!” You screech, your hand clawing at your pocket as you take the device out and turn it off without even glimpsing at any text. You place it with force against the kitchen table and slump in the chair, holding your head tight as sobs claw up your throat. 

You're tired, you are. But it's not just physical. What he's doing to you is much worse. It's torture, and it’s bringing you closer and closer to despair. 

A melodic sound comes from your phone, and you hold your breath, removing your hands from your face as you stare at the bright screen. It turned itself on. 

What? 

Bzzzz. 

Unknown: Kitten, don't shut me out. You don't want to anger me any more than you already have. 

You stand up abruptly and widen your eyes, a hand pressing against your mouth as a way to trap the whimper that threatens to escape. Then you turn off the phone again, setting it back down on the table as if the thing were on fire. 

You can count the time passing by the accelerated thrums of your heart hammering against your chest.

The melodic sound chimes again, and you freeze as the screen lights up once more. Its obnoxious light fills up the room as the harbinger of doom itself. 

Bzzzz.

Unknown: That’s strike two, and I’m not amused. Don’t shut me out. I’m not–

This time you turn it off and shove it inside the kitchen junk drawer, amidst corks and can openers, hoping against all hope that this nightmare comes to an end, because how can it continue if you push it out of your sight?

Your stare burns a hole in the drawer, but you don’t hear the melodic jingle of the phone turning on, nor any buzzing. Is it… over?

The sounds of the old house seem amplified as you train your ears on any noise.

Can it actually be this simple?

BANG!

Your scream comes as unannounced as the loud bang that rattled the front door. Grasping the edge of the table with all your might, since your legs gave out from under you, you stare in the direction of the front door.

Then you hear it, clear as day, loud as if it were right next to you: footsteps. Heavy footsteps thump on the porch in a slow, taunting march. It’s him. It has to be him. You feel all your limbs locking up, constricting your breaths.

BANG! 

This time, you press both your hands against your mouth and stifle your cry. He’s right there. Your breath comes out of your nose in loud, rapid bursts, and your head feels light. It’s over. He’s come for you and there’s no escape. 

The footsteps cease, and you take a deep breath as tears drip down your face. Did he give up? 

You're not quite sure how you get the courage to do it, but you approach the front door with very light steps, avoiding the creaking boards of the floor and standing on your tiptoes to try and see through the peephole, even though you’re already dreading what you’ll find once you press your eye against it.

Darkness.

You can’t see anything. Should you turn the porch light on?

BANG!

This time, you can’t contain your loud cry as you fall to the floor. The door rattled right against your touch and your stomach tightens at the thought that there’s just a door separating you from whoever is out there. 

You crawl backwards, deranged sobs leaving you as you curse and plead, not quite sure what to do.

And then, as your back hits the kitchen counter, you know what he wants.

Getting up on shaky legs, you can still hear the pacing outside the door. You’re terrified. Fear makes your limbs congeal, and you shake your hands to try and stop them from trembling. Your fingers fumble with the drawer, and you have to clasp your phone with both hands as you turn it on. 

The melodic ring resounds all around the kitchen, and, as soon as the phone is connected, it buzzes.

Unknown: Good girl.

-*-

Another restless, sleepless night. 

You can’t shake away the fear that he left behind, no matter how much he assured you over texts that he would never hurt you, he just needed to make you learn. You’re a fast learner, he said. You can be good, he added. You just need to be reminded of this now and again.

He kept calling you his, kept saying you’d learn to love him, to call for him, to need him. 

You were so shaken up from the whole ordeal that you threw up whatever meager food you had managed to eat at Robin’s. Then, you locked yourself in your room again, trying to drown out any thoughts of heavy footsteps or threats. 

There was no rest or sleep.

Just paralysing fear and helplessness. You can’t see a way out of this hell. Maybe there really is no escape.

-*-

Saturday comes and goes, and though your friends call, you ignore them. 

Except Zoro doesn’t relent. He calls, and you don’t pick up, so he calls again, and again, and again until you do. 

“I was about to march in there and see if you were alive.” He’s growling, but he still sounds a bit hurt, and you grimace, making yourself smaller against your couch. You’re sitting on the floor, somehow it seems more secluded, safer.

“I’m fine, I’m just sick. I think I caught a cold.” You cough a bit, trying to sell the lie, but at this point, you doubt Zoro actually believes anything you say.

“Right. So, you’re not coming with us to the movies today?”

“Not today.” You sound defeated, exhausted, shaken, and scared. You hope he just thinks you’re as sick as you claim to be. 

“What if I go to you and we watch a movie at your house? I can get the Cook to make you some soup.”

A whimper almost leaves your lips, and you have to take a few extra seconds to compose yourself before answering. 

“It’s okay, Zo. I’m fine. I just need some rest, okay? See you soon.”

And you hang up on him, like the coward you are. 

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Kitten, that’s enough indulging the cop. You don’t get to answer any more of his calls. He needs to know you don’t want anything to do with him.

You read the text and drop the phone on the floor next to you, your head falling against your knees as you hug them tighter. You’re numb to all of this now. He controls you, he owns you, and there’s no escape. 

You’re trapped in your own home, cornered in your own life. 

You’re barely surviving. You’re just existing.

And it’s painful as hell.

-*-

The week goes by, and you fall into a numb routine. You get up, throw away whatever gift is waiting for you - sometimes they’re fresh flowers or candy, other times there are dead animals or crumpled flowers - you feed the farm animals, then try to eat something.

The afternoon is spent cowering in fear until you do the rest of the chores. Then, you try to eat something else for dinner after you lock up every inch of the house. You curl into bed in your locked bedroom, cry yourself to exhaustion, and start all over again the next day.

The stalker’s texts are relentless. He praises you and your beauty, your behaviour, and how good you are to him. Then, sometimes, he says you still need to learn, to accept that you’re his, and to understand you will love him back eventually.

And then, there’s Zoro.

He calls, he texts, and he comes knocking at your door. Every single day.

You pretend not to be home when he comes, even though he says he knows you’re home, but you don’t open the door or say anything. And then, he always gets a call from the station, something urgent that comes up, and he needs to go.

You know it’s him orchestrating Zoro’s life as well as yours. And the noose tightens around your neck. 

-*-

Friday comes, and you’re not even strong enough to get out of bed. You’re drained. You ask Ace to help with the animals and stay curled up in bed for the majority of the day. Your phone is strangely silent.

No Zoro.

No stalker.

You fall asleep. A restless sleep born from weariness and depression. Then, you wake up drenched in sweat. It’s almost dark outside, and an ominous feeling grips you in its hold. You try to listen, to hear if there’s anything out of place, any foreign sound that doesn’t belong, but all is quiet.

You check your phone, and there’s nothing there.

Everything feels peculiar and unusual. 

You get up on light feet and have to take an extra minute to steady yourself because your head feels light, and you feel faint from not eating all day. Then, you slowly make your way downstairs. It’s too quiet. Too eerie. 

Something is definitely wrong.

It takes you an extra minute to notice, but when you do, all the breath is knocked out of your lungs. 

There’s a huge, beautiful bouquet of fresh roses in the middle of the kitchen table.

He was inside your home. 

He was inside while you were asleep and vulnerable. He could have been in your room, he could have touched you, he–

Heavy gasps disturb the eerie silence of your home as fat droplets of tears stream down your face. You can’t take this, you can’t. It’s too much, and you’re not strong enough. There’s no way you’ll be able to survive this alone.

You grab your phone and press Zoro’s name, placing the phone against your ear with trembling hands. It’s time to tell him everything.

Except the call doesn’t go through.

“Come on!” You whine, your legs giving out as you fall to the floor, the red from the roses still burning your retinas. You try again. And the call doesn’t go through.

It’s his doing. 

The police. You dial the number and press the phone against your ear, but it disconnects before even ringing. 

“No!” You scream and throw the phone to the floor, getting up hastily and bumping against a chair before your trembling fingers grasp the landline phone. Sobs and hiccups leave your lips, and you don’t even care, You’re so tired, you just want this nightmare to end.

The line’s dead.

A broken, desperate scream climbs up your throat, and you lose track of time as you curl up into a ball and cry some more. 

There’s still someone who can help. Even though asking for his help is the last thing you want to do, maybe it’s exactly what you need to get out of this.

Ichiji.

Determination and a newfound purpose seem to stop your tears from flowing freely, and you grab your phone again, taking a seat on the couch this time, not wanting to stare at the roses anymore and not daring to touch them yet.

The call goes through, and you sigh in relief.

Two rings, and a familiar voice churns your insides. “Well, hello, Doll. This is… unexpected.”

“Ichiji, I need your help.” There’s no use beating around the bush. “I need you to spare me one of your bodyguards.”

The idea hit you like a truck. Ichiji has tons of bodyguards, he can be persuaded to share one, you’re sure of it. Even if you have to owe him something - and you know he’s going to collect - it’s much better than living in this constant fear.

The silence prolongs for a while before he sighs heavily into the phone. When he speaks again, his voice is clipped and monotone. “I would love to help, Doll.” Somehow, you doubt that very much. “But I’m a bit understaffed at the moment.”

“Cut the crap, Ichiji. You have dozens of bodyguards. Each one is better than the last.” It’s true. They’re all elite. Might as well just say he doesn’t want to help you, that you can understand.

“Had.” Another heavy sigh. “I had dozens of the best bodyguards. My best one left around the same time you left me. And half of them followed him out.” He chuckles dryly as the information sets into your tired brain. His best bodyguard?

You remember him vaguely, though the name eludes you, you talked to him on several occasions. Ichiji’s events were boring and dragged on, so you made small talk. He seemed to like what he did and was the best at it. 

“Do you see the chaos you left with your departure, Doll?” This time, you’re the one that sighs. 

“I just need one, Ichiji, please.” How low have you stooped, to be begging the asshole who broke your heart? 

“I can’t. What I’ve got left are mediocre soldiers and a footlong list of threats. I barely feel safe leaving the house. But if you feel so unsafe, maybe you can crawl back to me, Doll, I’m sure I can make arrangements.”

“Goodbye.” You exclaim dryly into the phone before turning off the call. 

A bodyguard was your last hope. The small flicker of light that had turned on. And now you are truly alone. No Zoro, no police. Just you and the stalker.

You turn your head back into the kitchen where the bouquet stands, taunting you with its beauty. He was inside once. He’ll be inside again. 

How long before he hurts you?

You don’t even know when the tears started to flood again, but soon enough, your face is completely wet, and your shoulders shake with every ragged sob. You have never felt this helpless.

You’re trapped.

There’s no way out.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

And he’s come for you.

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache

Liked this story? Like my writing? Consider buying me a Ko-Fi, please!

|Chapter 9|

[mymegrokosmos]

hiii! can i pls request one where reader surprises mingyu on tour? i love your works so much, thank you for all the effort that you put in!! <3

i love this big giant puppy he's such a sweetheart. i hope this came out okay anon sorry for the billion year wait. it's a little short but maybe i'll write a follow up at some point when my brain is working again.

It’s early, or late depending on what timezone you consider, when you drag yourself to the airport. You text Scoups as you check in, updating him on the eta. It’s taken you a lot of coordinating and evading. Their managers and at least three other members are in on this. The hardest part hasn’t even been keeping it from your boyfriend, it’s been not slipping up where Hoshi can hear. You love Soonyoung dearly but the man cannot keep a secret.

You’re practically vibrating by the time you step onto the plane. It’s been months of so many little details you had to get just right and so many last minute changes. You nearly said to hell with it and just ruined the surprise too many times but you know it’s going to be worth it when you see the surprise on his face.

The flight isn’t long, not by the long haul standards you’ve gotten used to since you started dating a member of seventeen, but it feels like it takes forever and then suddenly time speeds up and everything is going at double time. You text Cheol again to let him know you’ve landed, sending your message to Shua and Hannie too just in case. You’ve got a little group chat now from all of the coordinating this has taken. The three eldest members, Jihoon and Minghao have been instrumental in getting this all into place.

As the car pulls up to the outer gate where you wait in the pickup zone you smile at their manager. He didn’t have to come himself but he assures you it’s fine, the boys are all at rehearsal and in good hands he’s not rushed. The conversation feels easy as you head towards the hotel first to drop your things and it settles your nerves a bit, this small piece of normalcy.

That’s when the plans change. They were supposed to have a short rehearsal today and then come back to the hotel before the show for a quick break of a few hours. Time to grab some food, showers and a nap. Practice runs long and they’re not going to have time to make it back so there goes surprising your boyfriend in his hotel room. You were ready for something to go wrong though and so you came prepared.

It’s okay, you’ll pivot. And you do.

It still doesn’t feel real when you get your pass and follow along with the staff backstage. You can’t believe the day is finally here. It feels like you must still be at home in your bed, asleep and dreaming this whole thing. Until you catch the barest glimpse of him. Of all of them. They’re just running off to get in place for the lift that will propel them up on stage.

Hao catches your eye over your boyfriends’s shoulder and he can’t wave for giving you away but his smile tells you this is real. It’s almost time. You’re here. You grin back and then they’re gone.

He doesn’t spot you until the end of their set. He’s just, finally, stepped behind the set after what you think was aju nice number fifteen when you lock eyes and his smile turns into an oh. HIs fangs pop out as the surprise melts into a grin even bigger than he gave the fans screaming the encore and his name and then he’s running. As soon as the stage closes after the last member, Soonyoung getting dragged along tonight, he’s bounding towards you.

It doesn’t take long with those long legs of his he eats up space like it’s nothing. You barely have time to squeak before you’re lifted into his arms, spun around and set back on your feet with his forehead now pressed to yours.

“Gyu!” You’re laughing even as you swat at one bicep. “You’re all sweaty babe.”

He whines but doesn’t let you go, pouting at you as he pulls you even closer instead. “I can’t believe you’re here. What are you doing here? How did you plan this?”

You smile, hands coming up to cup his face and brush the floppy brown hair back out of his face. He leans into your touch and you vaguely register the other members being herded past you by a monotone Minghao who is having none of their nosyness.

“I had a lot of help.”

You don’t get a chance to say anything else. He’s already sweeping you further backstage, lips pressed to yours to swallow your sounds of surprise.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too Mingyu.”

“Yah!”

You grin against his lips, smiling up at him as he carries you towards their green room. Your legs tighten around his waist as his hand on your back flexes slightly. You lean up to nuzzle your nose against his.

“I’m only teasing baby. I love you, you know that.”

He nods, eyes closing as he just holds you for a minute and you rest your hand against his chest to feel the way his heart beat jumps under your palm. He swallows and when he opens his eyes again they’re somehow even softer than before.

“Next time I’m taking you on tour with me. I don’t care what we have to do to make it happen. If I have to bribe your boss. I’m making it happen.”

You just shake your head and press a kiss to his jaw. “We’ll figure something out.”

He nods and before he can say anything else the door down the hall flies open and Soonyoung’s head pokes out around the frame.

“Are you two coming to dinner or are we leaving y/n to get you home from here?”

Mingyu sighs, forehead dropping to rest against your chest. “I’m going to kill him.”

You run your fingers through his hair. As well as you can with the styling products and sweat slicking it together at least.

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not.”

You glance at your mutual friend over his shoulder. “We’ll meet you at the hotel. I expect hugs and all your best tour stories tomorrow. I’ll bring the soju.”

Soonyoung salutes and then you’re alone again. “Room service and cuddles?”

Mingyu nods. “Mm, sounds perfect. WIll you rub my shoulders for me too? The right one’s been acting up again.”

“Yah, Kim Mingyu stop overworking yourself. Hot bath and a massage just for you when we get back. Now put me down so we can get a car before the others decide to kidnap us for dinner anyway.”

And just like that his hand is in yours, tugging you along as he yells for their manager while you laugh and try your best to keep up.

[quinnkdev]

i wrote a short thing about OFF, and my relationship to it as its translator; thoughts ive wanted to put into words for a while.

you can read it here as well, under the cut.

wait! wait... there is more to be said about OFF than, at the time of my previous review, i had the bandwidth for. i had, temporarily, reached a point of saturation with it - you only regurgitate a game's text again and again so many times until you start getting a bit weary of it, after all - but now that the bomb has burst and the remake is public knowledge (i kept that stuff secret for 2+ years!), i have the peace of mind to really unpack this. OFF was my companion for the late end of my teen years and more or less the whole of my current adulthood. the better - maybe even the best parts of my life - were (at least in part) shaped by adoration for and dedication to this game and its story. OFF survived the beginning and end of several friendships and relationships (romantic or otherwise) throughout my life, and i project it will survive many more - if not me, as a living human being. and i hope you understand that this is a lot to put into writing. can you imagine? something you did at 16 years old, because you were bored and liked a video game; a text someone else made, passed through you like a pamphlet - outgrowing you like that, becoming larger than you may ever be? i wrestle with that feeling frequently. some would grow resentful of the object of this kind of ruminating, especially as a writer and gamedev themselves- but i can't find it in me to ever hate OFF, no matter how often i hear about it; there simply is nothing like it. OFF has created several core memories that i can flash back to. i remember the knot in my stomach at its ending. i remember that it was time to sleep, and i remember staring at the ceiling, closing my eyes, and seeing void behind them, with white bedsheet ghosts floating there. i remember the resolve to translate it. i remember: "i have to show this to decon" (a friend that i've long since stopped speaking to). i remember isaiah (friend i lost touch with, number 2) asking me to keep working on the translation because he loved the game and wanted to know what happens in zone 2. i remember a vacation in france i mostly spent on a shoddy laptop my grandmother owned, on slow (maybe dial-up) internet, tinkering in RPG maker 2003, trying to make more headway in a language i only barely knew better than the one i was translating from. i remember this more than the majority of the relationship that introduced me to the game. that's sad to consider, isn't it? can a story be more significant than a person? i was very unwell for large parts of the time i spent working on this translation. i had dark thoughts; i feared impossible and possible things both. i was depressed, and i made very real attempts to turn the world in the only window i know - my eyes - off. permanently. and maybe- that is why OFF is larger than me. because in the negative space of its conclusion, in the turning of the final switch from ON to OFF, there lies a question: "is all this despair, all this hurt, all this misery and all of this unsolvable injustice of this world worth it?" and OFF, in my opinion, says: yes. or at least, for me it did. i'm not letting go of these memories, or of these stories, or of my adoration for this game. i love it more by the day. i owe a lot to it. this isn't a funeral, it's a celebration. thank you, OFF, and thank you, mortis ghost. i would not be here, i would not be this, and i would not be me without you.

[gay-wh0re-slut]

Hiiiiii THERE!!!!!!!!!

I love love loveeeeee everything your writing and would like to that the opportunity to thank you so much for your services! ���

I have a request if that’s okay…

Rhea x Fem Reader having had a fling now and then nothing serious besides a kiss or two. Reader has a toxic situationship she keeps going back to where the guy hurts her constantly as in not being faithful, but they still have make up smex in a constant cycle.

Rhea’s finds out about all of this through friends of a friend type situation. She confronts Reader one day to make you leave him. Reader basically confronts that she stays with him cuz he’s a man and she likes that masculine energy for security but there are hardly any good men left so she won’t bother leaving him in search of a new one. Rhea asks like what about a woman? and Reader laughs and says a woman can’t give her what a man can sexually. LOL

Rhea is upsets but sees the challenge..

Idk where I am going with this.. PLEASE, MAY WE GET HUGE STRAP ENERGY DOM RHEA PLEASE 🤭

Thank you so much❤️‍🔥

hehehe you’re welcome soldier🫡

but oh shit oh fuck this is so good…damn i have no words to describe how i feel rn this is crazy good thank you for the request seriously.

after writing: this is soooo incredibly long i’m sorry so get comfy haha

Teacher

rhea x fem!reader

content: talks of a toxic relationship before getting down and dirty with Mrs. Hot Goth Wrestler with a skilled tongue, good fingers and huge strap 😌

“We have to stop doing this,” she says out of breath.

“Yees,” you moan, “but not now.”

The two of you were in a one stall bathroom backstage, away from everyone. Rhea was feeling you up as she went back to kissing you roughly. Her hand travelled down to the zipper on your pants but you stopped her.

“Oh come on,” she tried to seduce you back into it.

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you pushed her away a bit, “I’m sorry,” you wiped your mouth.

Her whole aura changed when you broke the kiss but she didn’t want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to do. She didn’t say anything which made you feel worse than you already did.

“I’ll uh… text you later,” you fixed your shirt that she had roughed up.

“Yeah,” she stepped out of your way.

You walked out of the bathroom hanging your head, feeling horrible.

Several months have passed and you are back with your ex, but you’ve been on and off the whole time. You swore you would never date a cheater but when it was good, it was so good. He treated you like a queen by giving you flowers all the time, setting up random dates and the sex was amazing. He worked you out better than anyone else and he knew it too and held it over your head.

It’s only been one time that he’s gone behind your back. You caught him sending pics to “The Pizza Palace”, so you screamed and yelled and cried then left him for a good few weeks before he came crawling back to you.

Your friends begged you not to go back to him but you couldn’t get over how good he was in bed and you were afraid you wouldn’t find anyone else who could love you.

“I’m so sorry baby, I promise I won’t do it again, I’m so sorry, I love you so so much. I was stupid and I couldn’t see that you were perfect for me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I’m so sorry,” he cried.

As soon as you accepted his apology you had ground rules: whenever you were suspicious of his texts, he had to let you look; his location was on at all times; and you needed to know his work schedule.

But once a cheater, always a cheater and somehow he found a way to cheat on you again. You had enough and finally cut ties with him for good, or so you thought.

“Baby please, I’m so sorry, I can’t live without you. You’re my baby, I need you, I won’t do it again,” and you ended up right back in his bed.

This went on for a couple months and Rhea had kept trying to meet up with you again, but you pushed her away. She had no clue what was going on behind closed doors but she was going to find out. So she asked a mutual friend of yours when they went to lunch.

“You didn’t know?”

“She never told me anything,” the wrestler’s face was shocked.

“Oh yeah girl. He’s obviously mentally unwell himself and he’s taking it out on her by cheating and then asking to come back. The only reason she keeps going back is because ‘he’s a god in bed’, ” the friend air quoted.

“My god. No wonder why she’s been avoiding me,” Rhea was upset about the whole thing. Her mind was racing trying to figure out what she could do to help you out.

“I’ve been trying to tell her not to go back to him, but she won’t listen to me,” the friend said insinuating that Rhea could most definitely do something.

You haven’t talked to Rhea in a while, just some brief hello’s here and there as you passed her by. She kept her distance after you basically ghosted her but she couldn’t stay away for long.

“Hey,” Rhea texts you.

“Heyy,” you replied but you were on your couch a couple weeks after you got back with your ex, refreshing the maps for his location every second.

“Wanna get coffee tomorrow?” she asked not wanting to set off any alarming messages that she was basically having an intervention so she could get you alone.

“I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about you,” you weren’t lying, you did miss her but as a friend more than anything else.

“Perfect, 10 okay? At the one near your place?”

“I’ll be there!” you smiled at this small interaction but you couldn’t think about anything other than when he was going to get home.

The morning came and you were sat at a table in the coffee shop when you heard the door open for the australian.

“Hi!” she walked towards you displaying her arms for a hug.

You were engulfed by her muscles as she squeezed, “How’re you?” you questioned knowing something was up because she doesn’t usually hug you.

“Almost broke my clavicle last night but I’m good,” she chuckled rubbing on the bone, “how about you?”

“I’m doing okay,” you couldn’t lie to her, “there’s been some ups and downs but everything is good.”

“That’s okay,” she gestured towards the register.

Both of you waited in line talking about random things, ordered and went outside to sit.

“A little birdie told me you were back with your ex?” Rhea wasn’t one to dance around a subject.

You faked a laugh, “yeah,” was all you could say.

She took a sip, “and how’s that going?”

“It’s… good I guess. I’ve made some rules with him about his whereabouts and texts but nothing too crazy,” you took a drink to hide the awkwardness. You knew that she knew what had happened by the way she asked the question so you didn’t want to bore her with the details again.

“Yeah? Well that’s good, but you really should be trusting of your significant other you know,” her accent was calm but strong.

“I do!”

She threw you a look.

��To a point,” you cleared your throat, “He’s just so…” you balled your fists in front of her, “good.”

She rolled her eyes, “that shouldn’t be the reason that you should stay with him,” she took another sip to let that sit in the air, “there are other people that would kill to be with someone like you.”

“I know, I know. But I like having a man around you know? It makes me feel safer knowing that he’s there,” you smiled but your subconscious knew that it was a fake smile.

“Right,” her tone was stern, “have you even tried to find someone else?”

“Yeah!”

Another look.

“Okay fine, no I haven’t because every time I think I’m done with him and download a dating app, he comes crawling back.”

“Oh my god. You can’t keep going back to him,” her eyes were piercing into yours.

“I know, but he’s so kind and caring when he’s not in someone else’s bed,” you rolled your eyes as you sat back in your chair swirling the cup.

“Well,” Rhea sighed as she mirrored your movements, “have you…ever thought about being with a woman?” again, not one to beat around the bush.

“What!? No. I couldn’t. I don’t even know what to do with myself sometimes, let alone another woman,” you said nervously.

“Have you even tried it?”

“Well no, but-”

“Exactly. So,” the tattooed legs crossed, “leave him and find you a woman,” she smirked.

You were taken aback at her bluntness but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Are you…asking me on a date Ripley?”

“Not unless you want me to. As if you haven’t thought about it,” she chuckled.

“No, I mean- I like you but not like that,” you waved away her response. Well, maybe you could be with a woman, you thought. No! No… well…

“Uh huh,” she let you work it out for yourself for a minute before she brought you back in, “let me know the next time he cheats,” she snarls as she stands. “I have to get back to training,” as she pushed her chair in.

You looked at her in confusion at the sudden change in energy, “okay,” you stand and walk over to give her another awkward hug.

Though it was weird, she accepted. Holding you in place, she whispered in your ear, “Trust me, I can treat you much better…in and out of the bedroom.”

You let go of the hug as she smirked at you before she walked away. You watched her put her cup on top of the trash can by the food trays before walking towards her car.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

Not even a week passed and he went and cheated on you once more. You cried and screamed again as you finally walked out of the house for the last time. You sat in your car fumbling for your keys as you tried to call Rhea, “pick up, pick up, pick up,” you chanted between sobs.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniffed, “Can I come over?”

You could feel her smirking her devilish smile behind the phone knowing she was saying ‘told you so’ to herself, “C’mon,” she said.

You sped over there and banged on the door.

“Damn, chill, the door didn’t cheat on you,” she opened the door but you pushed past her.

“Hey woah,” she closed it, locking it behind her, “sorry about the joke but-”

You threw your wallet and keys on the kitchen table as she followed you in as you cut her off with your finger, “don’t say you told me so because I already know, but you got in my head and now I can get you out,” you dropped your hand.

She confidently leaned herself on the counter, “Well,” she shrugged as she gestured to herself smirking.

“Stop it,” you slammed yourself down on a chair.

“I’m kidding! I am sorry that he cheated on you though…again,” she tried to hide her giggles.

“Rhea please,” you wiped your nose with a napkin that was neatly stacked in the middle of the table, “I know I’m dumb for going back to him but when it was good it was good, okay? It wasn’t just the sex even though it may seem like it,” you broke down again.

She immediately stopped feeling proud of herself and started feeling sad for you. She hated seeing you hurt but she knew that she had to be the voice of reason right now. She sighed as she sat across from you, rubbing your arm, “is there anything you need me to do?”

“Beat his ass?” you joked.

She laughed, “I don’t need a lawsuit, but I would if I could.”

You blew your nose then crumpled up the napkin, “Remember what you said at the coffee shop?”

“When?” she knew exactly when.

“When you hugged me. Did you mean it?”

“Oh…yeah,” she said casually as her muscular arms crossed leaning back in the chair.

“Could you-”

“You wanna do it right now?” her eyes widened, “yeah, no. What we are gonna do,” she stood, “is run you a shower for as long as you need, to get him off of you, use whatever you want in there, and then,” she pulled you out of the chair walking you to her bathroom, “we can talk about what happens next.”

“Okay,” as you stepped inside the bathroom.

You were in there for probably 45 minutes. You stepped out with a towel wrapped around you, your hair dripping with some left over eyeliner stuck on your eyes, but you didn’t care too much.

“Clothes are on my bed,” she shouted from the kitchen before she walked out with two glasses of wine, setting them on the coffee table.

You changed into one of her big tshirts and sweatpants, then joined her on the couch, “Thank you,” you said weakly.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll always be here for you. Now, did you think about anything specific you wanted to talk about?” she handed you the wine glass.

“Mm,” you took a sip, “I’m not sure how to word this,” you became embarrassed.

“Try your best,” her hand landed on your thigh as she turned to sit criss-cross facing you.

“How does it…work?” was the best you could do.

“How does what work?” her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

You bit your lips trying to muster up the courage but decided there was nothing left to lose, “sex…with a woman,” your face turned red.

“Oh!” she chuckled gently slapping her hand on your thigh, “the same as with a man but it’s more enjoyable and much hotter,” she winked.

“But there’s no-”

“There is, it’s just… silicone,” now Rhea’s face was a bit red but not for the same reason, “But there’s plenty other ways to get the job done.”

“Oh,” you blinked as your mind tried to figure it out.

She took another big sip, followed by a big sigh, “did you think of anything else? I know today’s been a lot so we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. And you’re more than welcome to stay the night if you need to, plenty of room,” she gave you a sincere smile.

“Not really,” you picked up your legs onto the couch and hugged them, “and thank you, we’ll see what happens,” you finish your wine.

“For sure,” she finishes hers too and gets off the couch. She gestured towards you silently asking if you want another, but you shook your head no, so she took your glass with her into the kitchen.

She came back out and sat back down in the same position.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

“Anytime,” her eyes were staring into yours, twinkling in the sunset light coming from the window. She looked so beautiful in this light, was it because she actually did or because you were heart broken, again, and you needed a distraction? Whatever it was, you made a quick decision.

So you cupped her face with your hand and gently kissed her. She easily fell into it but broke it off gently.

“Are you sure you want to start this? Because I won’t be able to stop,” she was sure of herself.

“Yes,” you tried to kiss her again but she backed away.

“Because I know you’re just doing this to feel as though you’re getting back at him. And I don’t want to be used as a distraction so I need to know if you actually want to go through with this,” she was calm but stern with her words, wanting to make sure you understood.

“Ever since, whatever we had back then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think he was the distraction from you,” the light bulb went off in your head as you said this, because it was true. Rhea always made you feel loved and appreciated no matter what.

Her mouth fell open slightly as she took in this new revelation, “Never thought of it that way,” she cleared her throat.

“So yes, I want to go through with this. Mainly because I want to see if you can keep your promise,” you smirked.

“Ah ah, I didn’t promise anything,” she pointed, “but I can definitely prove it.”

“Then prove it, teach me the ways,” you tried to think of anything else to say but it came out before you could stop it, “of lesbian sex.”

“Please don’t ever say that again,” she scoffed.

“Sorry,” you hid your face.

“You should be, that was weird.”

“Yeah, oops,” you chuckled.

“So, you sure you want to go through with this because,” she cocked an eyebrow and smirked as she shrugged, “I’m pretty good if I do say so myself.”

“Alright alright, calm down,” you smiled putting your hand up to stop her. You took a deep breath and took a second to think about everything, “I want to do it.”

“Finally,” the wrestler breathed as she grabbed your face and smashed your lips together. It wasn’t like you haven’t kissed her before, but it was different this time. There was yearning and lust and you wanted more of it.

Small moans came from the both of you as your hands glided up her bare thighs, prying at the edge of her booty shorts. Her hands moved to your waist to pull you closer but you decided to straddle her instead.

“A little desperate, are we?” she guided your hips down onto her lap.

“Sshhh,” as you kissed her again. Now her hands were gliding on your thighs. After a few moments, her hands found their way under your, well her shirt, and felt up your back pulling you in tighter. You arched your back into her with a low whine. Her nails dug into your back sending shockwaves through your body and directly to your core.

You gently began to grind your hips and she took the opportunity to put her hands on your ass and guide you through it. Moaning into the kisses, you ran your hand through her hair while the other kept your balance on the back of the couch.

She snuck one of her hands to the front of the waistband playing with it, “can I…”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, you were nervous but you’ve never felt safer.

She slowly slipped her hand underneath and began to gently caress your hot center with just a layer of fabric separating her hand from you.

“Shit,” you whined.

“You okay?” she caught your gaze.

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip.

Drawing small gentle circles on your sensitive bud, your hips jerked a bit as you let out a small whimper. You tried to cover it by kissing her again.

“Don’t hold back,” she whispered, “It’s hot.”

You were still weary but thankful she said something. So you nod in response before resting your head on her shoulder. Her pace had gotten faster now and you were riding her hand in perfect unison. “Mmmfuck,” you threw your head back.

You removed your hand from her hair to meet with hers in the sweatpants. You stopped her hand and moved it under the one layer that was blocking her. You removed your hand but she got the message immediately. She ran her fingers over your wet folds picking up what had been oozing out of you before going back to her pace.

You moaned as your head fell back onto her shoulder, breathing heavily. She twisted her head and started to kiss your neck before ever so slightly biting. Your moans became more frequent and the pressure was quickly beginning to rise.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Don’t say it…just do it,” her voice was deep in your ear.

And with that, the pressure released, “Oh GOD,” you yelled as you threw your head back once more. She kept her pace and let you ride it out.

After an about a minute she removed her hand, “you okay?”

You were breathing heavily into her neck, “yeah,” as you sat up.

“Good because we’re not done yet,” and she easily picked you up carrying you to her room and onto her bed. She set you down gently, “totally up to you, but on a scale of one to ten, how rough-”

“Seven,” you blurted out a little too quickly.

“Hm,” she stood above you with her hands on her hips, “so what do you…”

“Oh, uhm,” your face turned redder than it was. You never had this conversation with your ex he just kinda did what he wanted, “I’m… not sure.”

“Do you like when someone talks you through it?”

You thought about it, “yes.”

“Do you like being praised or no?”

You thought again but longer this time, “I’m not sure.”

“We can try both and see what happens,” she said casually, “What about choking?”

“Oh yeah for sure,” you didn’t have to think about that one.

“Okay,” she chuckled, “obviously you’re a pillow princess.”

You acted surprised, “how’d you know?”

“I could tell,” she laughed. “Are you okay to start again?” her tone became serious.

You readjusted your position, placing your hands in your lap neatly, “Yes ma’am.”

“Ooh, I like that,” she cooed. “Now get comfy, princess,” as she pointed to the pillows behind you.

So you scooted back a bit and laid down on the bed. You watched as she crawled menacingly on top of you. The tattooed hand slid up your torso and to your neck turning your head to the side and holding it in place. She ran her tongue up your neck, sending a shiver through your body. Your hands were carefully placed on her sides just to have something to hold on to.

She kissed down your jaw, to your mouth before making eye contact with you, “Anything he could do, I can do better,” she growled.

You couldn’t say anything you were so turned on now. Never in a million years did you think you would be in this situation. So you smiled devilishly in response.

“Promise,” she tacked on before going back to your neck. She sat up and tugged at the waistband of the sweat pants, “Can I take these off?”

“You can do anything you want,” you finally admitted.

“Don’t tell me that,” she smirked.

“I’m serious,” your tone was stern as you caught her icy blue eyes with yours.

Her eyes flicked up and down your body, “okay,” her voice graveled.

She easily slipped the pants off of you but you took it a step further and took the shirt off too, leaving you in nothing but underwear.

She was surprised but her energy quickly changed. Her eyes filled with hunger as she looked over your body taking in every inch. It didn’t take long for her to spread your legs to begin to kiss on your thighs.

You whimpered at her touch as your hands flew to her hair, holding it out of her way. Kissing her way up your thighs, moving from one to the other with every other peck, she looked at you as she landed one on your soaked center.

You moaned catching her gaze as she smiled into another kiss. You writhed under her as she continued to touch everywhere but where you needed her most. You were over it so you pushed her head away.

“What-”

“Just,” you threw off your underwear as quickly as possible, “fucking go for it, please.”

“I thought I was teaching you?” she joked.

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

“So desperate,” she said slyly.

“God, please Rhea,” you were basically whining at this point.

“I don’t know, I like hearing you beg,” she smoothed her hands over your thighs.

You did whine a little, gently hitting your fists on the bed, “Ugh! Pleeaase!!”

She scoffed before she dove her head back down. Her tongue smoothed over your wet folds immediately.

You gasped, “fuck, yesss,” as you picked up your legs, folding at the knees.

She held your hips in place as her tongue worked its magic. She hummed into you, causing your body to shiver again at the vibrations. She skillfully flicked her tongue over your clit before lapping you up again.

The noises coming out of you were something you didn’t think would happen but you let them come anyway. Moans and whines filled the room as she continued. The knot inside of you returned, causing you to ride her face.

She smiled into your movements holding you tighter. She kept her pace steady as your hips jerked against her, “shit…ffffuck,” you moaned. Just a few more moments and you were coming once again. You yelled in pleasure as she forced your legs open to stop you from suffocating her, she didn’t stop though, letting you finish out your high.

Once you came down, she kissed her way up to your mouth, “you taste so…” she thought about it, “delicious,” and kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself against her but you didn’t mind. She was right, she was doing everything better than he was.

“I think you’re ready to turn it up a notch, yeah?” she said as she slinked off of you and went to the closet.

You covered your eyes with your hands trying to think of what she meant. You couldn’t believe you were here with her of all people. THE Rhea Ripley, pleasing you, making you feel safe, giving you everything you need and more. You were afraid you were in love with her.

The door clicked open, “Close your eyes,” she said before walking out.

“Okay,” your hands fully covered your eyes now as you heard her walk towards you, then felt her crawl onto the bed above you once more.

“Don’t peek,” she said as she felt you up once more, running her hands over your hot skin. She slid them up your torso and to your breasts, gently running her thumb over your nipples. Your back arched into her touch. She maneuvered herself between your legs, “such a pretty sight.”

Another shockwave went through your body as you heard those words, you didn’t know you liked praise until this moment.

“You liked that, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you tried to remove your hands.

“Nuh uh, I said no peeking,” she started to draw small circles on your clit again with her thumb, “you’ve been such a good girl…”

You whimpered into her touch, arching your back a bit.

“But I’d like to see you,” her tone became harsh, “be a slut,” and she pressed harder into you.

“Fuck,” you whined.

“Good to know you liked that too,” her fingers danced at your entrance before easily pushing inside of you.

You slammed your hands onto the bed gripping onto the sheets as you arched your back, “FUCK,” you screamed.

She slowly pumped her fingers in and out of you holding one of your thighs open. She kept her steady pace watching you squirm at her touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes but you could feel her staring.

“You’re doing so well for me,” she purred.

You moaned at her praise, hearing her deep chuckle in response. She picked up her pace gradually until she was satisfied, and stayed like that for a few minutes.

As more whines fell out of you, you barely noticed her moving into a different position on top of you until she pulled her fingers out, “Look,” was all she said.

So you fluttered your eyes open, “holy fuck,” you breathed as you watched her suck her fingers clean. But what really caught your eye was what she was wearing: a strap.

“Don’t worry, you can take it, easy,” as she lined it up with your dripping entrance. But first she picked up your legs and folded you in half, “You ready princess?”

“Fuck yes,” you groaned.

She smiled as she guided it into you slowly, letting you get used to it.

“Yessss god…Holy fuck,” you moaned when she started to slowly pump in and out of you.

“You okay?” she reassured.

“Never better,” you choked out.

“Thought so,” she smirked. Quickly picking up the pace, “Bet he never made you feel this good, huh?”

“N-never,” your eyes were in the back of your head.

She was now plunging into you at an ungodly pace, “too bad he never got to see how good of a slut you are.”

The praise mixed with degradation was driving you insane, and she was right. He never treated you this well and you loved every second of it and she could tell too. Your tits were bouncing, your eyes were rolled and your legs were shaking. She was hitting you just right, “Oh god, Rhea!” you whined.

She loved hearing you say her name. She was enjoying the view as much as you were enjoying her. The bed began to squeak as she pounded into you. One of her hands snuck its way around your legs and to your neck, gently squeezing around it. Your hand gripped her wrist as you smiled devilishly at her.

“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess,” she huffed.

“Go…faster,” you choked out.

“Such a fucking whore,” she barked, but she grabbed your calves with either hand and pushed your legs father down, completely folding you in half. She took a deep breath and began to pound into you so hard and so fast that you lost your breath.

“YES,” you screamed and after a few more seconds, “FU-U-U-UCKK!!” and you came again. But that didn’t slow her down.

She kept her insane pace, “C’mon baby…one more,” she demanded, “I know you got it in you.”

Whimpering at every push into you, it didn’t take long to the pressure to rise again, “OH FUCK, YESS…GOD, RHEA,” and once again, you came but this time your whole body shook and your legs fell weak under her.

She finally slowed her pace and gently pulled out of you. Your body fell limp as she slid off of you smiling and breathing heavily.

You caught your breath, “four times,” you rested your hands on your forehead, “four…times.”

“I never break my promises.”

[v3nusxsky]

Hi

could u pls to a smut oneshot with lady lesso with prompts 29 and 52 it’s the readers first time with her. Possibly adding in overstim and aftercare.

Princess 18+

*Authors note~ Lesso smut has returned god I’ve missed writing! I love being back into my happy space and writing fics for all our favourite ladies*

Trigger warnings~ overstimulation kink multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, dom!lesso, daddy kink, bondage, mirror sex, sex toys (vibrator and enhanced strap on), dirty talk/sexting/nudes teasing, fingering!, oral, fem!good!reader, power dynamics (good vs evil), somnophillia (consented before)

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

52~ "Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So gorgeous when I'm fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only me.

29~ "Want my fingers in you?"

•••••••••(Banner to come)•••••••••••

You’ve always been a firm believer that the line between good and evil is never as clear cut as people perceive it to be. For you, it’s more a spectrum that people move up and down on, not something to define someone’s character. After all the phrase “what’s another man’s trash is another man’s treasure” has to mean something. Right. Perhaps that’s why you, of all the princess professors to enter the walls of the school for good and evil, caught Leonora’s eye. Fate. Destiny. Or just pure luck would have it that you’d soon become her princess. The one she would try to be better for, to move up the spectrum of good and evil. But even you should know that the red head wouldn’t be able to be purely good all the time. No. She limited that side, the almost cruel sadistic side of her, to the bedroom only. Was she evil for this? You were about to find out.

The special chime of Leonora’s phone sounded around her office. You. Only you had that chime. But why would you be texting her knowing how she had a meeting with all the staff to attend now. “I’m sorry daddy, I just get so turned on thinking about the last time” was what it read with a video underneath. At first pixelated but it soon became clear. Here you were wearing nothing but wine red rope, tied in intricate patterns while holding your favourite vibratior to your clit. Your phone in front of the mirror allowing lesso to not only hear but see every reaction to your self care. Teasingly running your fingers down your body to spread your folds apart, your arousal just leaking out of your puffy lips. Clearly this wasn’t the first self induced orgasm of the day.

Instinctively the red head chewed on her ruby lip as she replayed the video. God you were something. However did she get so lucky? But something lying dormant in the woman screamed to be let out, to put an end to this foolish attempt to prove dominance over her. Simply, this beast wouldn’t take this lying down at all. Fingers as quick as lighting typed her response before shoving the small black device in her pocket of her waistcoat and left for her meeting, “be naked when I get back home dove.”

Two whole hours. She had to wait two whole hours before leaving the school. And in those two hours you’d gifted yourself three more self inflicted orgasms before passing out in your bed naked. That’s exactly how she found you when she returned. Blissfully unaware of what you’d caused.

Your right leg position at a right angle as your left leg lay flat against the covers, your arousal still thick in the air as you unknowingly left your core on show to her preying eyes. Really, it’s not her fault. At least that’s how she reasons with herself. You’d spoke about her waking you up this way, something you wanted to try, and what better excuse than today. Falling asleep like this was asking for it after all. Practically begging her to take advantage of you. Her poor innocent princess.

It took less than a minute for Leonora to position herself between your legs. Now eye level with your pussy she couldn’t help but dive in. Her precious little dove all ready for her to take. Eating you out from behind like a starved animal. No matter how many women she’d had in her bed, no one could ever compare to the taste of you. The scent of you. Just you. Hers. The way your body responds to the ghost like touch of her hands trailing your body as she lapped away at your glistening folds. The sleepy little moans that only she could hear. Hers. And to think you had yet to wake up, to find her home where she always wanted to be.

“M Nora?” You mumbled disoriented and dazed by the delightful feeling of someone’s mouth working at your sensitive bundle of nerves. The only response you were given was the fee of her teeth grazing your clit in a silent reminder. “Daddy!” You almost squeaked in shock and pleasure to but cut short with your displeased whine at the sensations she provided stopping dead. “Oh no was my poor princess getting close hmm? Did you like daddy waking you up little slut?”

Oh did you ever. With how your chest rose and fell and the pretty blush on your cheeks spreading to your breasts being all clear indications of how much you liked it. That’s ignoring the copious amounts of slick now covering your folds and her chin and lips. “Daddy why’d you stop” flew from your pouty lips before you had a chance to think about it. “Because my princess is a grade A whore who can’t help but touch what is clearly mine. You. Are. Mine. And you must be punished dove.”

At least you’d had the decency to cover your sleepy features with an attempt to look ashamed of your actions. But deep down you both knew that this was exactly what you wanted to happen. You wanted to rile her up, push her buttons and get well and truly fucked. Strutting around the room the dean of evil tied you to the bed frame in record time. Now lying flat on your back arms and legs spread. Cunt on full display as her eyes raked over your beautiful body.

“Want my fingers in you? Hmm do you want daddy to fill that slutty little hole for you?” She teased knowing that it wasn’t everything you wanted. See Leonora knows her princess. You need more than her fingers to feel like worlds exploding. But she also knows that her fingers can get you most the way there. Many nights had passed with her testing how far her fingers alone would push you into pleasure. “Fingers or nothing princess” was all it took for you to begin to plead for her to touch you. Anything really, “please daddy. Please just touch me. It never feels good unless you do it please.”

She couldn’t help but be mesmerised with how well you took her. Your greedy little pussy sucking my fingers into your weeping little hole. She’d chuckle when a harsh curl of her slender digits against your G spot had you gasping for breath. “More. More please god more Nora” you whimpered as your hips continued to buck up into her skilled hand to once again be denied. “Poor dove. My poor useless little princess. You need daddy huh? Want to be daddy’s play thing? My precious doll? Let daddy use your slutty body and take what you’re given.”

Time really is a concept when your girlfriend is Leonora Lesso. Your whole body bound and marked up at her will. Orgasms ruined by her demand until tears streamed down your checks as you babbled out incoherent please and whimpers. Lesso would be lying if she said you didn’t turn her on to the max. You were just so pretty. Her pretty princess. Even crying so prettily just for her. God it turned her on. A beautiful princess all for her to use.

“Shhh okay princess, daddy will give you what you want now. So pretty dove. Daddy has just what you crave sweetheart” lesso murmured while she shredded the last few remaining articles of clothing. When had the rest gone? You weren’t sure, too lost in chasing the orgasm she wouldn’t allow you to have. Wide eyes taking in the new appendage between your lovers legs, “d-daddy?” You stuttered confused. How ? More so, you wanted it. In your mouth, in your hand and more importantly burried inside your cunt as she crawled up to ensure her crotch was level with your mouth. “Oh princess you like what daddy has for you hmm? Come be a good little cock slut and make it nice and wet for daddy. Repay me for turning me on for hours while I was working. Come earn your pleasure darling.”

Despite the fact that lesso was now adorning a life like dick, she was moaning and grunting like she could feel the way you’d hallowed your cheeks to take her further. The head of the cock touching the back of your throat as you gaged around the shaft. Slender hand gripping a make shift pony tail in your hair as she guided your head along the length just long enough to edge herself. Not only does she love to edge her dove, but receiving edging was also something she adored. “Out! Now. I want to be inside of you now. She demanded quickly manoeuvring herself to be between your thighs once more.

You felt every inch slip inside your snug walls. Every ridge hugged by every pulse of your pussy. “Take it princess. Take it for daddy” she grunted as the last inch sunk into your tight warmth. “Such a slut, just made for me. Sophie tight I can hardly move with how you’re gripping me. Fuck.” She grunted as she slowly pulled out of you to slam back inside. Mesmerising herself with how your walls sucked her back in. How well you fit together. As one. Hers.

As if it couldn’t get any better, vibrations began to fill the room with a constant buzz. Inhuman sounds began to work their way from your body as you bucked like a wild horse into her thrusts. "Look at your reflection princess . Look at how gorgeous you are. So gorgeous when I'm fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only me. Mine” she growled forcing you to turn your head towards the fall length mirror. Watching as you joined as one. “Daddy need to please god please need it” you jumbled up your desperate pleas as she finally gave you the permission to cum for her. The orgasm being everything you needed and wanted. Blissed out by the pleasure she was bestowing on you. Only, she didn’t stop. No. She continued to fuck into you until finally she was satisfied. “Good fucking girl princess” she whispered before slipping out of your now gapping quivering hole, “such a good girl for daddy. My best princess.” She used her magic to free you and clean you up before whispering praises and holding you close for the remainder of the night. Her girl. Her princess. Her love. Her dove.

Word count ~ 1879

[wouldvelovedmewheniwassoft]

help keep a queer disabled system couple from breaking NC with my rapist ❤️‍🩹

(CW: parental abuse/familial trauma, death from cancer, alcoholism, domestic violence, homelessness, sui + hospitalization, incest/rape, victim-blaming, abandonment + gaslighting by a toxic friend, harassment involving police, disordered eating)

please don't tag my post. proof of situation provided in imgur album.

i've held off on publicly asking for help beforehand, as i know there are many people in more dire circumstances right now. but i'm at a point where it's absolutely necessary.

i moved out of state to live with my partner system (we both have DID) in March of this year. we already planned to live together, but circumstances forced me to escape and go NC (no contact) with my remaining family for my safety.

i lived in my childhood home for my whole life until this year. my parents and extended family have always been abusive, but things escalated after my mom passed from Stage 4 lung cancer. my father started deteriorating after her diagnosis in 2018, and since her death in 2022, our relationship is no longer salvageable.

his alcoholism worsened significantly, resulting in multiple instances of him driving home drunk, collapsing, and almost being charged with a DUI. he hasn't hit me since i was 13, but he's acted domestically violent by slamming and hitting things whenever i've angered him. he threatened me with homelessness twice for being suicidal (once after a four day hospitalization, once after an attempted overdose), knowing full well i had no resources at the time and would've ended up on the streets. i attempted to escape last year, but my paternal aunt purposefully sabotaged it, forcing me to stay in an unsafe situation and suffer quietly. my mother's family abandoned me in 2020, and they no longer accept me (specifically for being queer/trans, disabled, and a vocal leftist), so they wouldn't help even if i wanted to resume contact.

it took over a year to move out due to my father controlling every aspect of my life with the justification of me being disabled. i tried to get his blessing for me to move in with my partner; but he refused to let me leave him, and he made it clear his disapproval of my relationship was because he didn't want me to have any autonomy outside of him.

the breaking point came after three days of nonstop verbal and emotional/mental abuse from him over an argument he started; everything culminated in him raping me while i was incapacitated. both my best friend of three years and their partner offered for me to crash at their apartment while my partner planned to get me. they also escorted me to a sexual assault center in my state to get a rape kit done.

i burned nearly every bridge in the process, as the people who could help me sided with him. but i didn't anticipate my friends to abandon me, too. they spent my last three days with them coercing me into changing my escape plan and dismissing my visible distress at how doing so would jeopardize my safety. less than 12 hours before we left, my best friend abandoned me via text, saying they'd refuse to help me if i didn't get police involved. anything i said in response resulted in gaslighting from them, mainly using therapy speak of "boundaries" and "triggers" to justify their actions. i cut contact with them after my partner told me they planned to drop me from the start (they told my partner this in a phone call while i was out) and discovering a cruel vague post they made after i last texted them. the last time i ever reached out was to send them money to get through their own situation.

since then, my partner and i have struggled financially. they're currently one write-up away from being fired, and their supervisor has always been volatile, so confronting him or going to anyone else at their job will do nothing. they've gotten help from their grandparents, but they're similarly abusive and unaccepting of them for the same reasons, so it hurts them to beg them even if they're unable to go NC right now.

i'm unable to reapply for disability, and previously lucrative sources of passive income have currently dried up. i'm waiting for orientation to be scheduled so i can start my new job, but we've financially suffered in the meantime. my account was charged off, and i only just now paid off a month's worth of PayPal debt; most of the debt came from paying off medical bills after i was injured in late April (currently contemplating pursuing legal compensation but nothing's set in stone).

i had to break NC twice for my father to help, but it's been triggering both times. i had to block his number before due to him harassing me via call/text, and he made me talk to police twice by falsely reporting me missing.

i cannot risk breaking NC again if my future job falls through or my partner loses theirs. we both had to skip meals several times within the past month to keep from buying food, so it's gotten scary already.

anything you can send helps. if you're unable to, PLEASE share this wherever you can. i also do writing commissions, so DM me to know my rates and what i'm willing to write.

ca | pp | vm

imgur album

(edit 6/18/24: created a new imgur album link; had no idea why the first one was inaccessible, but hopefully this is better formatted and contains additional context)

[lumosinlove]

Day Two of @oknutzy-week-2024 !!

Write Me In

Finn O’Hara, the lead singer of Night Swimming, the band that tops charts year after year, has an interview set with music’s top writer, Leo Knut. The whole thing will take place over one week at the locations and times of Finn’s choosing. Leo’s not freaking out. He definitely hasn’t had a crush on Finn since he was sixteen. Logan Tremblay, the band’s drummer, definitely had nothing to do with Leo realizing he liked boys.

Leo’s to go see the concert and then do the first part of the interview after the show. Only, when he’s shown back to Finn’s dressing room for the first interview, Leo definitely opens the door at the wrong moment. Because there is Finn O’Hara, heartthrob to people everywhere, kissing his drummer, Logan Tremblay.

Leo had gone through too many outfits. His bedroom floor back at his apartment was a mess of his clothes. The problem was that he didn’t know where they were going. Where would Finn O’Hara want his interview done? He was in the middle of a massive world tour so they could end up anywhere from his dressing room to his private jet. That had happened to Leo before. He’d gotten right on the plane with the star and then be left at their destination to get himself home.

They could go to one of New York City’s number one restaurants—Paps were always catching Finn at Nobu and Via Carota—or it could be one of the apartments he kept. It could be a damn night club for all Leo knew. You didn’t wear the same clothes to Via Carota as a night club. Well. Some people did, he guessed.

Finally, and only cut off by the prospect of being late, Leo stepped out of his building’s elevator in slim fitted slacks and a white button-down, open at the collar. If he needed to dance, he’d undo a few buttons and dance. Otherwise, his sleeves were cuffed just below his elbows and his blond curls were cooperating perfectly. At least he had that going for him. The other variable had been his bag. Usually he carried his leather cross-body with his laptop and notebook. He didn’t want his laptop at a club—or a restaurant, to be honest. He’d settled on folding his sunglasses into his shirt and slipping a pocket-sized notebook into his trousers along with his phone.

The only thing he knew for certain was that he was going to get to see the concert first. And he was being cool about it. Completely professional.

Not thinking about the posters he’d had on his bedroom wall when he was sixteen. He wasn’t. His mom had sent him the picture of him grinning like a lunatic at Finn O’Hara’s first world tour. He wasn’t thinking about it. Not at all.

From his back pocket, his phone began to buzz. His assistant, Cassie.

“Hey, any chance you know where the hell I’m going?” he asked.

“Ten bucks you cry.”

Leo closed his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

“Or go completely speechless.”

“I am an adult.”

“You cry when we pass those pet stores with puppies in the window.”

“I am a compassionate adult, Cas. Now where—”

“You’re going to the show!”

“I mean after,” Leo asked. “Any word from Finn—from O’Hara’s team? Where are we doing this thing?”

“How many outfits did you try on?”

Leo hung up.

The venue was much what he expected. Finn had five albums out with a much anticipated sixth one coming sometime this year. The June night was cool as Leo fell into the masses headed to Metlife Stadium. His magazine had said they’d send a car, but Leo opted for the trains. Maybe they were a pain, but so was traffic. And besides, this way, Leo would get to see the fans. Finn’s real fame had come with his second album, titled Bring The Stars, and he’d only gotten bigger with his third, Red&Gold, so there were many a star-studded dresses and golden, shimmering outfits. Leo stuck out sorely in his black and white. He texted Cassie.

Maybe I should have been more festive.

She replied immediately. I’ve seen your heartthrob O’Hara shirt. An emoji that had its tongue sticking out quickly followed.

Not helpful.

He talked to a few of the fans. One girl who had drawn gold stars all over her body. A boy wore a shirt that read I’M THE STARS, TAKE ME over a strong chest. It was a rather touching lyric in Finn’s song, but on the shirt it looked like a pick-up line and made Leo smile and write it down.

At the venue, he was lead straight to the VIP tent with his press pass, and was handed about four lanyards that would keep him there, allow him to go between the viewing tent and the VIP bar, and another that would later let him backstage. The woman who gave them to him promised to fetch him sometime after the encore. Then he was presented with a Finn&Tonic.

“Oh, I’m working.”

The woman smiled. “For the next two hours, you’re watching a concert.”

True enough, Leo thought. His inner teenager was whirling at the very manufactured idea that Finn had created this drink for him. He was sure anyone over twenty-one in the stadium was feeling the same.

“I tried to get Finnarita to happen, but no-go.”

Leo turned towards the voice at his shoulder and froze. He stared. He opened his mouth. He thought about speaking. The red hair, the brown eyes. It looked—well, almost how Leo imagined. Then again, he’d never seen Finn up close before. God, he was so much sturdier than his posters made him out to be. His chest and arms were pushing out against his t-shirt. Leo needed to not be looking at his chest. He should say hello. He should say something.

“What are you doing here?” he blurted out. He looked towards the stage where the opening act had just come on.

There was a laugh from beside him and when Leo looked back over, a hand was being extended. Without thinking, Leo took it.

“I’m watching the show.” The winning smile turned secretive. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m just the brother. Alex.”

Oh. Of course. That’s what was off.

“Oh,” Leo said. “Oh my God.”

Alex laughed harder. He shrugged.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—” Leo let out a laugh because something about Alex made it feel like he could. “You probably get that all the time.”

“People think we’re twins. Always have. I’m used to it.”

“Well, I’m Leo.” After a beat, Leo did what he hated to do. “And I am under an obligation to tell you right now that you’re speaking to press.”

Alex nodded. He was probably thinking up some excuse to walk away. Whatever. Leo was used to that. No one wanted a random quote ending up in the wrong place.

“I know who you are,” Alex said instead. “I loved your piece on poetry in pop.”

Leo only just managed to swallow a sip of his drink around his surprise. “Oh? Thank you. It was a fun one. Listen, I still feel bad about nearly freaking out on you.”

“Ha, don’t worry. I mean, it’s a good thing you’re a fan—you are, I take it?”

“Yes. I mean, yes.”

“Well.” Alex nodded to his nearly empty drink then to the VIP bar. “You can join me for a drink later to make up for it.”

“Sure, of course.” The words came out of his mouth, but as Alex grinned and turned towards the bar, all of the heat rushed to Leo’s face.

He wasn’t positive, but he was fairly sure he was being hit on by Finn O’Hara’s big brother. Either that, or scoped out to make sure he was worthy of writing the story. Or he was being nice?

Leo gave up on thinking and watched Alex’s shoulders walk away.

There was a little menu in the tent and Leo glanced at it, trying to picture Alex O’Hara buying him a drink—and kissing him. The list was funny. Album themes. Song titles. Maybe he’d let Alex buy him a Rum & Gold.

Then, it was all Finn. He came out onto stage like something from one of Leo’s fantasies. He wore dark jeans and a green tank top that read LUCKY ME—a hit single off of the second album. Leo had died for that song in high school…He still did.

I watch you fill your cup with sugar,

Waitress asks 'what will it be?’ 

In this world of ‘order up!’ 

Babe, you let me rest ease-y

I just say lucky me

I just say lucky me

“You know, I grew up here.” Finn’s voice echoed through the stadium after that song—it was quite a contrast. Lucky Me got more and more sexy with every verse. The diner waitress and I watch you fill your cup with sugar soon turned into Let me fill you up with sugar, let me drown in sweet and sweat. Leo wanted to know who in Finn’s life took their coffee sickly sweet.

“It’s the best city in the world,” Finn was saying. “Oh, and hey, my big brother’s here tonight! Everyone say Hiii, Alex-aaaa-nder!”

Alex got a thunderous hello and Finn—Finn was looking right at the VIP tent. Right at Alex. Who was standing right next to Leo again.

For a second, Leo swore Finn was looking at him. He felt those brown eyes, and when Finn smiled, lighting up every screen in the place, Leo felt that, too. He started to sweat, to blush. He was no better than anyone else in this crowd.

He swore, he swore, Finn was still looking at him when he raised his microphone to his mouth and said. “So many beautiful people here tonight…” Then he raised a hand. “You guys ready?”

He let them cheer, he tilted his head back and basked in it, the strong lines of his throat and jaw on complete display.

In a low, deadly rasp, Finn said, “Let me hear you, Lo.”

When he dropped his hand in a powerful fist, the drums kicked to life behind him.

Lo. It was only then that Leo managed to tear his eyes away from Finn. Three beats answered Finn’s words and the spotlight swung to Logan behind his kit.

Leo was going to die. He’d vastly overestimated his ability to keep his focus while doing this assignment. How was he supposed to remember his own name, much less how to write, when Logan Tremblay was sat there sweating through a clinging gray t-shirt, his brown hair curling up around a backwards black hat. Logan started up a beat that Leo would recognize anywhere. Their song I See Red had come out last year and Leo had been most intrigued because it was the first time Logan had sung alone on parts of a song. Although Finn sang most of it, Leo had played it over and over again for the parts that Logan sang. His voice was slightly deeper than Finn’s, the vowels influenced by his French-Canadian accent.Then there was the part when, like in Lucky Me, they traded beats and lyrics. The stadium went mad, though, when Logan began to sing his verse. Nothing but him and his drums.

I see red in my dreams.

Pressed against me,

Hard and gently,

Making me see.

Meant to be.

Two beats.

I see Red breaking free.

Looking at me

Breathing, ready,

No make believe.

Meant to be.

He went right into the bridge and the way he sang it—it was like Leo had never listened to the song at all until this moment. The way his body moved as he pounded the drums. Finn joined in, harmonizing and grinning wildly. The crowd had no care for the melody—they screamed the lyrics with Logan and the lights flashed every time his sticks hit his drums.

Red in my dreams getting all over me,

Sweat in my eyes please say you’ll never leave,

I knew once I woke I’d take it all back

So I never woke and we stayed like that.

I am not asleep and you are not a dream,

And my Red looks good in the sunlight gleam,

Not going back to sleep, or how it was.

Cover me in Red for forever cause

I see Red cross the street

Waving to me,

Wearing blue jeans,

Such a day dream.

Meant to be.

Finn looked flushed when he raised his arms to the crowd.

The crowd lost it—and continued to do so every time Finn and Logan did a similar call-and-answer. Finn’s voice and Logan’s drums. It was like a heart. Its beat and breath. Leo found himself grinning all through their song Green Eyes, rumored to be about a girl Finn spent a night with on tour in France. With each of Finn’s verses, Logan’s drums answered him with as many beats. No, you don’t—say much—but I read—your touch. Now Finn was standing behind Logan as Logan played, leaning in to share his microphone. You fall—I sigh—Oh my—green eyes.

It was hot. It was more than hot, it was sensual. Personal. The microphone caught Logan’s laugh and the crowd lost it all over again. A group of girls just in front of the VIP tent were sobbing—Leo was fairly sure they had been the entire time. He started to laugh a little, even if it was sweet how they held each other through the swaying rhythm of Your Loss and Thin Ice.

Leo knew he had been waiting for his favorite song. He’d been hoping each time a new one began that this would be it. It was softer, and he thought maybe he’d get to hear a bit more of Finn’s voice alone above all the instruments.

What actually happen was so much better. Finn sat down at the piano and began to play—alone.

“How are we all doing? Enjoying ourselves?” Finn grinned when the crowd roared for him. “Okay, good. Good, good. Um. This next one I’m gonna play a little piano, how’s that?”

Leo fought the urge to cover his giddy smile.

“Fantastic. You guys are great, I gotta tell you. But I’d expect nothing less from my favorite city… So, I think there are a lot of lovers of this song out there,” Finn said. “Me included. I actually didn’t expect everyone to love it so much because I know it’s a little different. Little sadder than our usual stuff. I wrote this one alone. Haven’t written anything alone since, but this one I did. I think it’s about making choices. It’s about wanting something so bad…” He paused, playing a few gorgeous soft chords, and Leo knew. This was his song. “That you hold on, even to the tiniest sliver.”

As raptured by Finn as Leo was, a movement on the stage caught his eye. Logan was getting up from behind his kit and leaving the stage. Leo frowned, watching his broad shoulders disappear. Maybe he was getting water because Finn played this one solo. Finn, on the stadium monitors, seemed to be watching, too.

“It’s a song about hope, really,” Finn said. “This is Rooftop.���

Part of Leo wanted to close his eyes, as he always did while listening. When Finn began to sing, he was a thousand places at once. Driving back home in New Orleans and singing it at the top of his lungs. Laying in his bed in the dark, crying so hard he couldn’t breathe through his nose. Swaying with Cassie at some party at the end of the night.

He didn’t close his eyes. He was here. The closest he’d ever been to Finn O’Hara in his life. He could see his famous freckles. Those gorgeous brown eyes—and the sorrow in them just now.

It’s a long, long, summer night

And I have no where to be.

I am gone, gone, lost the fight

Against hoping you’d want me.

It feels wrong, wrong, sitting here

Cause this is your place too.

You are gone, gone, lost the fight

But you know what is true.

I know you do.

Finn let the crowd sing the second I know you do back to him before he hit a gorgeous, thrumming piano chord and sang the chorus in a way that made Leo’s throat close up—as it always did.

I will lose my balance, I will

I will choose the highest place

Sit where only wind can race

Faster than your heart.

I will lose my courage, I will

I will fall and see your face

Reach out just enough to trace

All our broken parts.

And the bridge. God, the bridge. Sung in this quick, chopped low voice that Leo leaned into like he was thirsty. The crowd sang along so loud Leo felt it in his chest.

Bet the blood’s there still

Lingering on that window sill

But what no one sees

Are the ruins left of me.

Cause I’m still up there

My dreams smoking in the air.

Find the highest part

That’s the place we start.

And the blood’s still fresh…

The beautiful, beautiful pause. He was magnificent with the piano. The screens showed a shot of his hands, pale, strong wrists, delicate fingers. Leo got swept up by the key change, slowing it down, Finn’s voice raising, strong, the words drawn out, and so, so desperate for—for the memory, Leo thought, hand pressed against his chest. This song had always felt like a memory.

I wish you best

But I need you to know

That I will not rest

Until you tell me to go-oh

I’ve still got one hand

Locked on the ledge

Think I will hold on

Until you throw-oh

Me

Down

To my

Death.

Finn’s mouth rested against the microphone. His eyes were closed. The summer wind brushed his hair back from his forehead and—and Leo saw the tear track on his cheek. His voice was so, so soft for the final verse.

It’s a long, long, summer night

And I have no where to be.

I hold on, on in the fight

Of hoping you’ll want me.

Leo was in a daze when the set ended and he was whisked away by two people with headsets and backstage badges on. He fumbled to show his own passes to the three rounds of security. To his surprise, what he thought of as backstage was actually under the stage. He was lead through a curtain beneath the front part of the stage and through what resembled scaffolding. It was also a maze. He tried to keep track of where he was, but that plan went out the window in a second. There was no way he’d make it anywhere on his own if he had to. Soon enough, the low ceilings and metal poles disappeared and he was in the actual rooms of the stadium. More endless hallways, but a bit less of feeling like the whole thing could collapse on his head.

“Here we are, Mr. Knut,” said one of his companions. They’d arrived at a door that had a plastic sheet on it reading O’HARA.

Leo didn’t hear much of what was said after that. O’Hara. Leo saw flashes of all the posters, all the interviews, all those Instagram lives Finn used to do from the apartment he shared with Logan. He missed those videos. Finn in the kitchen talking about the new music he was working on, Logan wandering by shirtless behind him. It almost made one feel like they were in the room—which had probably been the point.

When he looked up again, the two headsets were walking away.

“Wait! Wait, should I knock or—”

But the world had already moved on in the post-show chaos and Leo was left standing there. He was more than surprised to find himself alone. He’d thought, being a journalist and all, they’d watch him like a hawk. Most musicians wanted to control what he saw. Apparently not Night Swimming.

Leo stepped closer to the sign, to the door, listening. He didn’t hear anything behind it. Not talking—maybe music, but it was hard to tell where that was coming from. Hesitantly, Leo knocked.

The door fell open a few inches. The latch must not have been done properly. Leo’s eyes raised in surprise. Now he could hear something—it was soft beneath the shouts and passing carts outside. But someone was inside.

Leo knocked again, gently, not wanting to startle, and took a half-step inside. He was expected, surely. Finn had been told?

Any words he might have had died in his throat.

Finn was inside. It was a warm space, soft music playing. A dressing table, a mini fridge, a guitar propped up against the sofa, an electric kettle. And Finn.

Finn who had Logan pressed up against the wall beside the mirror, its light warming their skin, kissing him. Kissing Logan in the same way he sang—with everything. Logan looked like Finn was all that was holding him up. He was still in the gray t-shirt, but his hat was gone—knocked to the floor by their feet. His dark curls were wild. Finn’s pale hands had hitched up his shirt and they made a stark contrast against Logan’s tan muscles. Logan made a soft sound into Finn’s mouth, Leo saw him bite at Finn’s lip and pull, and then Finn was dragging his lips down to Logan’s neck.

Maybe Leo made a sound himself, he didn’t know, but Logan’s eyes flashed open and met Leo’s.

Green. Green green green and then—

Interest. The look in them was so intense that Leo couldn’t move. He couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t look away, couldn’t shut the door. Logan’s hand fisted Finn’s read hair and he—he pulled Finn off of his neck to kiss him again—eyes on Leo. He tapped Finn’s hip and Finn stopped. Leo heard him ask, what? Logan nodded his head in Leo’s direction.

Suddenly, brown eyes were on him, too. Finn’s eyes.

“Oh,” Finn said. His lips were pink and slick from Logan’s. Logan’s strong hand was still knotted in his hair.

“Excuse me,” Leo choked out. Finally, he forced his eyes down. Kissing, his mind chanted. FinnandLoganFinnandLogan. “I’m—I’m so sorry, I was told—”

“No, no, no,” Finn said. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Finn looked around for a moment, a little dazed, and then spotted his shirt. He pulled it on backwards, cursed, and righted it. Damn right lucky you, Leo thought, glancing at Logan’s mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m—so sorry, I’m here for…um.”

“Leo Knut,” Finn said. He strode forward and offered Leo a hand. If he was at all nervous about what Leo had just caught him and Logan doing, he didn’t show it. “I know, I’ve been looking forward to your interview. My brother and I, we talk about your work all the time.”

Leo was going to pass out. “Okay. I mean thank you.”

Finn smiled a little. He wiped his mouth. Leo tried to keep his eyes from following the motion.

“Um.” Leo said. “The show was fantastic.”

“Yeah? Thanks.”

“You’ve seen us before,” Logan said—and not like a question.

“Yeah,” Leo replied. “This is my third time. I’ve been a fan for a while. Since the beginning, really.” Stop talking. “So. So, my office said that we would be—well, I’m here for…”

“Right,” Finn said. “Of course. I think we’re doing an hour now, right?” When Leo nodded, he gestured to the couch. “Please, sit. Can we get you anything?”

Leo blinked. “Oh. Um. Water?”

“Let’s order food,” Logan said, collapsing on the couch. “I’m fucking starving.” He looks at Leo. “Or am I supposed to get out for this Finn O’Hara interview?”

“No,” Finn said, then looked at Leo. “I’d like him to stay.”

“That’s completely fine,” Leo said. “Better, even.” That sounded weird. “I mean, I’d love to hear both of your—of what you have to say.”

Leo stumbled through his questions. He fumbled his words, his phrasing. He had no direction, no path, he couldn’t remember all the angles he’d planned to try until he found this story.

The worse part was, he knew they could tell. Logan’s stormy eyes tracked his missteps like a shark. He was a quiet one. Leo had known that. He was like that in interviews. It bordered on rude, honestly, but Leo knew he had a sweet side. He’d seen videos of Logan spending a solid thirty minutes talking to fans through fences, outside of their hotels. Talking, taking photos, signing autographs, recording video messages for friends. So, Leo withstood the glare. He had, after all, walked in on him kissing Finn. The world certainly didn’t know about that.

By the time the hour was up, Leo had nothing but an empty notebook and a headache. 

“We don’t have a show tomorrow,” Finn said. “Why don’t you come around to the apartment? Lo and I sleep late, but mid-day?” Finn smiled at him, friendly and sweet.

Lo and I. Was this Finn telling him something? Were they more than roommates? Not that it was any of Leo’s business, not that it had anything to do with the article, it was only…Leo tried to imagine himself at seventeen, knowing that Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay shared the part of himself that he was most unsure about. God, what that would have done for him.

“That sounds wonderful,” Leo said. “Thank you. Should we say noon?”

“Two,” Logan said. “We sleep late.”

Leo looked back to Logan. No smile. Studying. That same looked Leo had received during the kiss.

“Two, then,” Leo said.

If there was one thing he hadn’t expected from tonight, it was not being able to get out of that room fast enough.

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚡

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: this one was quite hard to write because it took everything in me not to describe max getting murdered instead 🥲

✮ cw: crying, general sadness, verbal fights, slut shaming

✮ wc: 2.5k

jules feels like a zombie. 

for two days all she does is sleep and work. she barely eats, only showers once. she cries quite a bit though. it feels like everything sets her off…

every time she closes her eyes, jules remembers the way matty had looked at her before she ran away. she thinks of matty hitting max and matty cradling her face to make sure she's okay. she thinks of their last kiss and all the ones before. 

fuck. 

for two days she barely exists as a real person, barely checks her phone or answers to people’s texts and phone calls. she should have known better than to get herself tangled up in feelings again. she should have known better than to trust herself with ‘no strings attached’. because there are always strings. 

and now she can’t break them without hurting herself more. 

on the third day she wakes up to carly shaking her awake.  

it’s startling at first, she thinks someone’s broken into the flat. then she thinks it’s matty… ultimately when jules opens her eyes to carly’s concerned face, she can’t help the tears that gather in her eyes. 

“hi,” she whispers, swallowing through the lump in her throat. “sorry, did i forget we were going to do something?”

carly says nothing for a minute, just looks at her with scrutiny. 

“move over,” she motions for jules to shift, and jules obeys. 

carly gets in bed next to her, gets under the covers and pulls her into a hug. only then does she allow herself to cry again—big, loud sobs that send fat tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“i’ve made a mess,” she wails. “i’ve made a mess and i made him sad.”

“nico?” carly asks, “what—”

“no,” jules interrupts her. she’s done with this fake charade, she’s done lying to her friend and lying to herself. “not nico. there was never a nico.” she sniffles like a child, wiping her nose on the duvet. “i mean, yes there was but—”

“jules, you’re making no sense…” carly looks at her with a blank face. her lips are pursed into a thin line and her eyes are a little wary, but jules can see the concern written there plain as day. she doesn’t blame carly thought, she knows she’s talking like someone who’s gone mad. 

“it’s…matty,” she mumbles, “it’s always been matty.”

“adam’s matty?” carly’s eyebrows fly so high up in her hairline that jules almost giggles. more so when she registers what carly’s just said.

through tears she laughs. “adam’s matty. yes.” 

“what about him?”

“well…” she wrings her hands, suddenly nervous and scared that carly would be mad at her for lying this entire time. “it’s a bit of a long story.”

“let’s hear it then,” carly nods her head, and jules starts at the beginning.

“and this has been going on for…”

“more than a month, yeah…” she’s already in tears again, ashamed to look carly in the eyes and find contempt or judgement. 

“why didn’t you tell me?” carly mumbles. “why did you lie the whole time?”

“i—” jules chokes, crying more tears. “i was scared you’d think i was using him. i was scared you won’t like—”

“jules!” she interrupts, incredulous, “what am i, your mum?! none of my business who you fuck, i just… i wish you would have told me…”

“i know,” jules plays with a loose thread on the duvet. “i’m so sorry, i lied to you, i am.” 

she looks up, finally looking carly in the eyes. there’s a little bit of annoyance in her face, some anger too as is to be accepted. but more than that carly looks at her with concern. still, after jules is done confessing her lie, her friend looks at her with concern. 

under the duvet they’re sitting side by side, their arms touching. jules leans over and rests her head on carly’s lap like a child. a second passes, and then she feels fingers threading through her hair. 

“and now…”

“i want…” she looks down in shame, “…more.”

“and why is that a problem?”

because i don’t think he wants me? because i don’t know if it’s a good idea? because there’s a chance he might have feelings for someone else? because because because. 

she smiles at carly sadly. “it doesn’t matter. i think whatever we had is over now.”

“jules,” carly holds her face between her warm hands, making jules look at her. “i’ll say to you what i said to you ages ago, back when you first wanted go on casual dates. you don’t have to any of it if you don’t want to. but if you’re going to, i want you to be happy with it.” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “it looks like you’re not happy… ending it.”

and that really is the truth, isn’t it. she’d rather have some half-baked version of him than have none of him at all. but her heart is fragile. she can’t invest years in matty like she did in max. she can’t have that end the exact same way—in heartbreak and tears. 

“don’t assume what he wants,” carly nudges her gently. “ask him what he wants.”

“mmm,” jules wipes at her cheeks again. she’s sure her entire face is red now—red and splotchy. 

“now go on,” carly nudges her, “let’s go for a walk or something. i’ve got the whole day free and i’m bored!”

jules laughs. it’s a watery chuckle and more tears fall down her cheeks, but she feels better than she has in days. weeks, rather. she feels lighter and freer. 

“should we get ice cream?” she asks, and carly nods with all the enthusiasm in the world.

there’s another thing she has to do before she can fully bring herself to talk to matty. not that he has reached out to her… she supposes it’s fair this way. she’s the one who fucked up, she should be the one to apologise. 

and so a week and a half later she sets out. not to matty’s place, not just yet. she goes to the house she hasn’t seen in close to eight months. 

jules turns onto the familiar street and knocks on max’s door. 

it used to be her door once, she remembers. she wonders if the house still looks the same—if the sofa and the loveseat are where she left them. she wonders what’s replaced the trinkets on the shelves that she took with her. she wonders if the bedroom is as clean as she used to keep it and if the fridge is as organised. she wonders and wonders and realises… she does not care. 

jules no longer cares if the house inside looks like a mausoleum or if the bedroom looks like a garbage dump. 

she no longer cares if max lives comfortably or not. 

jules waits, ringing the doorbell again and shielding herself from the sun that’s high up in the sky. after ringing it for the third time, she hears footsteps—heavy dragging footsteps and then the door is yanked open. and just like that there’s max, hungover and looking like shit in last night’s clothes. 

he smells of stale alcohol and cheap weed. jules wonders how she ever loved this man, how she ever looked at him and found him attractive. 

“juliette…” he sounds surprised. she swallow the sour taste it creates in her mouth. it’s her name and yet when he says it, it sounds like the ugliest word in the world. 

“move,” she says, no willing to touch him to shove him aside. “i want to talk.”

max snorts and steps aside, motioning her in. 

jules takes in the house while he shuts the door behind her. there’s a thin layer of dust on the now empty shelves that look like they have not been used in quite some time. there are cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling and crumpled up empty beer cans by the sofa. 

the ashtray looks like it hasn’t been emptied in over a week. 

the house has certainly seen better days. 

“sit,” he motions towards the sofa. one look and jules wrinkles her nose in disgust—who knows what kind of things he gets up to here now that he’s single. 

“no, i don’t plan on staying long,” she declares, moving away to put a little more distance between them. no matter how far she moves though, she can still smell the stink coming from him. 

“right,” max smirks, “what you here for then? healy didn’t satisfy you last night, did he?”

jules closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. she’s not here to fight, she’s not here to fight, she’s not here to fight!

“max, i need you to stop.” 

“stop what?”

“i need you to stop sending flowers and coming back into my life. i need you to stop giving a shit about who i’m fucking, i need you to stop—”

“oh so you can be a whore and spread your legs to whoever you want and i can’t say shit about it?”

jules grinds down her molars, bristling at the interruption. this is fucking impossible, he is fucking impossible. 

“max, listen to me,” jules begins, her voice steady despite the anger bubbling up inside her. “i didn’t come here to argue. i came here to make things clear.”

max scoffs, leaning against the wall with a dismissive glare. “so we’re setting boundaries now are we? so you can run around town fucking that boy and ruin my reput—”

“max!” jules raises her voice, trying not to go slap him in his own home. “i’m not interested in discussing my sex life with you. i want you to understand that whatever i do, whoever i do it with is none of your fucking business.”

he snorts again, shaking his head. “and you think it’s okay for your boy toy to hit me like that? he’s fucking lucky you were there.” 

“lucky?” jules scoffs, incredulous. “max, you were out of line, and you know it. you can’t just show up and act like you still have some kind of claim over me. matty stood up for me because you were being a complete jerk.”

max’s smirk falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, crossing his arms over his chest. “you think he’s some kind of hero? he’s just using you, juliette. just like—”

“just like you did?” she interrupts, her voice sharp and cold. “don’t project your failures onto him. matty’s nothing like you, max. he will never be like you. ever.”

max opens his mouth to say something but she’s not done talking just yet. she’s not done talking and she’s not going to leave here until he promises never to bother her again. 

“i’m being so fucking serious right now,” her voice sounds firm and jules wonders if matty would be proud of her if he were here. she’s certainly proud of herself. “i need you to stay the fuck away from me. no more flowers, no more messages, no more trying to intervene in my life. i do not care what your little cronies think of your reputation anymore.”

max whistles low, looking her up and down. “you’ve grown a backbone.”

“yeah,” she shrugs, smirking at him, “i’ve also learned what it’s like to fuck a real man.”

max’s face flushes with anger, but jules just looks at him with pity. she’s done letting him make her feel small, done letting him control the narrative of her life. she’s just… done.

“don’t ever come near me or mine again.” she warns him one last time. 

max sneers, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—defeat, maybe, or regret. jules doesn’t care to figure it out. she’s said what she needed to say.

turning on her heel, she heads for the door, not giving max a chance to respond. she’s done with his toxicity, done with being the good little girlfriend who gives away all of herself and forgets to be a person of her own. 

jules steps outside, the sunlight warm on her face, and takes a deep breath, feeling lighter than she has in months.

back at her flat, jules takes a long, hot shower, scrubbing away the remnants of whatever might have clung to her in that house. it feels like there’s a disgusting oily sheen to her skin, like max and his gaze still linger, making her feel small all over again. 

she wraps herself in a towel and sits on the edge of her bed, her phone in hand. her heart pounds as she scrolls through her contacts and finds matty’s number. she’s scared, but carly’s words echo in her mind.

ask him what he wants.

with trembling fingers, she types out a message:

jules: hi, can we talk?

she stares at the screen, her thumb hovering over the send button, but jules doesn’t send it. instead she repeatedly presses backspace. 

she remembers carly’s words, but she also remembers her own. 

matty’s nothing like you, max. he will never be like you. ever.

and she was right then, wasn’t she? she thinks back to all the time she’s spent with matty. matty, who’s put her first every single time and been a friend to her even when he didn’t have to. she remembers matty cradling her face and asking her if she was okay. she remembers making him sad. 

she’d made him sad. 

jules feels a fist squeeze around her heart. if she’s going to make it right, she’s going to make it right in person. and she’s going to do it right now. 

she dresses as quickly as she can, reciting her speech in her head and trying to calm her nerves. she’s going to go and wear her heart of her sleeve, she can’t let a panic attack get in the middle of that. 

his house is only a short bus ride away but her heart is in her throat the entire time. jules doesn’t know what she will say to him once she actually sees him. she doesn’t know if he’d be willing to hear her out or if he’d just turn her away. 

what if he just wants a clean end to… them?

turning onto matty’s street is so much more nerve wracking than max’s. for one, it takes her an eternity to ring the bell. 

maybe she should just run away again and come back some other day. maybe she should have stuck to her original plan of messaging him first. 

still, jules knows this is the right thing to do. matty deserves a real apology, and she’s not going to deprive him of one. 

jules stands outside matty's house, her heart pounding as she rehearses her speech one last time in her head. she takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, hoping he will answer.

to her surprise, it’s cleo who opens the door.

“jules?” she sounds surprised. “hi! come in, what’s up?”

jules nods at cleo. “i’m here for matty,” she tries to keep her voice even. “i need to talk to him.”

[dalliesque]

'그만 집어치워 고민 같은 거'

Angel Or Devil — Tomorrow By Togheter

✴ ꒰ 𝗧 𝗕𝗬 𝗧 ꒱ sypnosis in which the whole uni shipped her boyfriend with someone unknown, forced to keep the relationship a secret out of force. will she do justice to herself and reveal the daunting truth? or would she stand there and watch as her lifeline slowly fade away from her?

꒰ png ' sungho × fem!reader, smau, written, fluff fluff, silly, slight angst. cw ' curse words, reader is a bit dumb, some parts might be toxic to people contents : 13 attachments. wc ' very long (me and my laptop gave up at counting the words srry), semi-proofread! ꒱

⌗ 雨曦 talks ୨ৎ i want grammarly dead, that shit messes up my writing and proceed to call it grammar. like gtfo 😃🔪

content under the cut!

Y/N had been counting the days since Danielle, Minji's best friend, had sent her that text. It felt like an eternity had passed, yet the sting of the message still lingered. She regretted agreeing to Danielle's request, but she couldn't explain why she had done it in the first place. She still wonders why she made that decision, but she finds it hard to answer her own question. However, it was too late to change anything now. Y/N couldn't even tell Danielle the truth about her relationship with Sungho without hurting Minji. Guilt is consuming her every day, but she chooses to keep quiet for the sake of Minji's happiness, she couldn't bear the thought of making Minji sad. Y/N didn't want to be the reason someone didn't get to experience the same love she had. She was a people-pleaser, and it was something she couldn't help.

Sungho was far from dumb. He could sense that his lover was slowly but surely slipping away from him. He was bewildered and demanded answers. Why was she drifting away from him? Had he done something wrong? Was she annoyed with him and giving him the cold shoulder? None of it made sense to him. He had not acted poorly in recent days, and you started ignoring him on that day, the day where #mingho was created. Sungho finally wrapped his mind around it. He wonders if your behavior towards him was driven by jealousy. Did you deliberately ignore him for that reason? But you weren't the type to be jealous over a stupid Twitter hashtag right? Well technically the whole uni are aware about this #mingho shenanigans.. Great, he messed up.

Sungho pants as he takes a breather finally catching up to you. He calls out, trying to get your attention. You removed one of the earplugs blocking your hearing as you turn around, taking a look at him. "Sungho?"

Sungho's face is pale, and he looks like he has seen a ghost. You hurriedly hand him a bottle of water from your bag, him drinking it in one go. Seeing him finishing the drink you spoke again, "You know you shouldn't call me pet names around the university. People will know we're datin—"

chuu!!

before you can finish your sentence, Sungho cuts you off in a chaste kiss, him slowly pulling away with a smug look on his face.

"Sungho!" you hit his shoulders right after your brain finishes registering what he just did.

"What?" he replies, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Get lost."

Sungho smiles sweetly and intertwines his hand with yours.

"How could you get rid of this beauty?" he gives you a wink, a teasing smile visible on his face.

"Narcissistic bitch" you mutter jokingly at him, giving him the side eye before cracking to giggles.

"Tch, Jealousy is a disease"

"shit" a curse leaves your lips upon seeing the notification.

"something wrong?" sungho eyed eyed you worriedly, before diverting his attention back to stirring the meal on the stove.

"it's nothing"

"you sure?"

"im sure" you gave him a small smile, thinking of a way on how to reply to the message.

"100% sure yeah?" sungho asks one more time in a more lively tone this time.

you chuckle assuring him one more time "100% sure love"

"okay... if you say so" sungho's rest his hand on his hip, focusing on the meal.

"sungho babe?" you ask him, waiting for a response from the latter.

"yes love?" sungho turn around showing you a comforting smile.

"hmm do you recon seeing anyone when you met me this morning?"

"well .."

...

"i think so?"

"who is it" you tilt your head unknowingly, curious on who watched both of your lovey dovey moments earlier in the day.

".. minji ..?"

"minji.." you repeats his words to yourself, gathering yourself togheter.

"everything alright love?" sungho turns off the stove, making his way to you carresing your cheeks softly.

you nod your head, quickly changing the topic.

"Let's just talk about something else"

"you took a picture of me when i was asleep???!!!" sungho gasp dramatically, covering his mouth with a hand.

"yups and i just uploaded it!" you beam proudly, showing him your phone.

"oh you're soo done!" sungho hurriedly opens his phone, opening twitter instantly forming an evil payback.

"ehh.. babe i think you should, umm open your twitter..." sungho chuckles loudly, watching you open your phone.

"huh?" your thumb hover over the application's logo as the red icon indicating notifications continue to add its numbers.

'so many notifications ..'

and you clicked it. regretting every single second of it.

"oh my goodness sungho!"

sungho let out a fit of giggle, pinching your cheek "yes i know.."

"what should i do..!" you whine, burying your face deeper into his chest.

"just.. accept it..?" he spoke before his chest was meet with your fist.

"ow! hey you, that's mean!"

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ join the gang here + ꒰ 𝗧 𝗕𝗬 𝗧 ꒱ ⋅ ⋅ my library ୨ৎ

୭ ˚. my loves @lilacgyuvin ⋅ ⋅ @hyunhanie ⋅ ⋅ @keii-starz ⋅ ⋅ @starryriize ⋅ ⋅

[risuola]

satoru gojo character & story analysis — all of it began with a miracle.

it's a piece of writing i wanted to do for a long time. it's not fanfiction, there's no reader. it's just his story from beginning to an end ( which i refuse to believe it's the end), it's what i think he was going through, what i noticed and assumed.

contains spoilers. — wc. 2,6k

It all began with a miracle.

A child is born, an anomaly, a little boy that in all helplessness and vulnerability is meant to be the strongest. A baby with hair as white as the snow and eyes as blue as the sky cries out loud, letting out his first few breaths and the balance of the world shifts.

Boy grows up, but without the warmth and love so needed and craved — he’s learning to survive in a world that doesn’t want him. He has looked death straght in the eyes more times than he's met the gaze of his own parents. With a bounty on his little head and with eyes filled with blooming resentment, he must keep his head high because he’s a pride. A treasure of his clan, a bearer of two techniques that did not appear together for hundreds of years. He’s blessed, but the blessing is nothing but a curse.

He knows about curses before he ever sees them. He knows about curses before he learns to write and he faces them while kids of his age are enjoying their time on the playground. It’s fine, his peers wouldn’t understand him anyway. He was fine alone. He was fine.

Years pass and he learns. With people around him, he’s lonely. A burden of power weighs him down, it swallows him whole and he feels alienated. The strongest sorcerer of the new era. The title feels strange on his tongue for years and he doesn’t feel the strongest. He’s a child, he wants to be— he can’t.

He grows arrogant, he grows distant and isolated. Directing his attention to things as trivial as gameboy games and playing cards, he leans towards normality that he craves so much. He finds joy and pleasure in sugary treats, because that’s what make him feel almost regular. But then, he meets someone special. Suguru Geto. A boy just like him, a boy with power that others do not understand. They become friends.

It’s the first time in Satoru’s life that he has a friend and he’s overwhelmed. He’s in love with the feeling of having someone, anyone, who understands him. He craves the time he spends with Suguru, he longs to see the black haired boy, he cannot get enough of him, always texting him, sending pictures, calling. And Geto wanted that too. The dynamic of friendship blooms into something beautiful, it roots deep within him and he wants nothing more, because with Suguru, he feels complete. Because with Suguru, he’s no longer alone.

The sky is blue. The bluest it’s ever been and the sun is so warm and pleasant. The days blend into each other, he doesn’t count them, he doesn’t care. He just wishes to be in this time forever, he wishes for this spring to stay like this because he’s there with him. And there are other people that care for him too? That are not afraid of him, that do not want him dead? He loves it. No matter the curses, he’s untouchable, he’s the strongest. They are the strongest.

But then, the blue sky turns red, the easy mission of protecting the star plasma vessel turns dark and bloody and Satoru dies for the first time. The sound of a blade cutting through his flesh, the feeling of it cutting the tissues and the warmth of his own blood made them dizzy. He falls to the ground and stills. Is it over? He doesn’t know. What’s with the balance of the world, what’s with his world, what’s with Geto?

Throughout heaven and hell, he alone becomes the honored one.

Everything shifts again. His body, as strong as ever becomes even stronger. Toji is gone and he doesn’t know what happened to Suguru. Riko is gone. It seems like he’s alone again but there’s a child on his mind now, a thought of a few-years-old boy somewhere alone. A child whose father he just killed.

He’s in crisis. Amanai’s body is light in his hands, cold against his warm body as he carries her out of the room full of simple humans, blinded by an ideology that is nothing but cruel. He sees the death of someone whom he grew to care about and he realizes that despite being the strongest, he simply cannot save people he wants to. And then, Suguru saves him. There’s no point in that, he says and Satoru listens. The sound of clapping makes him numb. Everything what happened made the shine of his eyes dull out. The blood in his hair feels foreign, the clothes on his body are trash. He’s dirty, he’s tired, he died just moments ago. But he listens. He knows better than to defy. He listens and leaves the cult behind.

The scale shifts again. Satoru is stronger. Suguru is left alone, Suguru feels abandoned and Gojo cannot help. His solo missions and the determination to master his techniques are driving him into oblivion. He still longs for his friend and in fact, there’s nothing else that motivates him than the wish to keep his close ones safe. He’s still himself, he picks all of him up soon, he throws himself into getting more out of what he inherited and he becomes the strongest. He saved Ijichi, but he couldn’t save Haibara.

And he couldn’t save Geto.

Is he the strongest because he’s Satoru Gojo or— what the hell does that even mean? He doesn’t know, but the sight of his closest friend, the one and only, the ride or die, turning around and disappearing into the crowd makes him want to scream. He grieves. He feels like he lost everything he had. The sky has never been so blue again.

He’s just a teenager. A young boy that never got to know love and care and yet, he decides to love and care for a boy, whose father took everything from him. It is, after all, Toji who turned his life into hell — taking the life of Riko, nearly killing Suguru and planting the seed of hatred into his mind. It is Toji who initiated Geto’s change, who initiated his own change. And the boy, Megumi, looks so similar. But Satoru takes him and his sister. Those kids are lucky. Satoru is not a father, but he gives his all to this new role. He doesn’t show it, but he cares.

Years pass by and he becomes a teacher. He wants to change the world he lives in, he wants to make sure the next generations are capable of protecting themselves. He doesn’t want anyone else to suffer as he did. He wants the kids to be strong, he trains them, nurtures them. He’s not the best teacher, he lacks qualities that make him likeable, but he does his best. He thrives in the way his students get better, he loves their smiles, he watches their friendships and he thinks that for as long as he is alive, he will not allow any kid to have its youth taken away. He lives by that statement.

He loses himself.

Lonely in the world, he realizes there’s a long-distant family around. Okkotsu. So Satoru saves him, trains him, loves him. And Yuta loves Satoru back. Things are good for a moment. Megumi grows good — he’s a troublemaker at school but to Gojo, he’s perfect. Tsumiki is in coma, but he cares about her as well, making sure she has the best medical attendance and conditions. For a moment, it’s perfect.

Until it’s not.

Until Suguru Geto appears at Jujutsu High after nearly a decade of absence, looking so familiar and yet so foreign. But his voice is the same, the tone in which he calls Satoru, it’s all so close to his heart. Satoru feels his heartbeat quicken, there’s a pressure in his throat and he wants to scream, but he can’t. Everyone is around, his kids are there, he can’t, he’s the strongest. So he stays there, focuses and he knows that after so many years, the time comes that he will have to make the sacrifice he wasn’t able to years ago.

Satoru blames himself. He did so for years, he felt lonely and guilty. But Suguru looks happy. Is he happy without him? The Night Parade happens. There’s trust. Despite everything that happened, Gojo trusts his one and only friend to not kill innocent young sorcerers because Gojo loves him still. It’s a feeling that’s always inside his chest, a friendship that will never be burned down. He wouldn’t be able to rid himself of it, no matter what happens.

But he kills him. The sight of Suguru so bloodied breaks his heart. The soft smile and light tone of his voice are etched into him and he knows that it is necessary to finish what he started that day in the past, in front of the fast food store. At this point, Satoru is so used to putting himself on the least important position, that he comes to terms with hurting himself if it means to protect his students, the youth.

There’s an importance to a body that he cannot deny. It is so undeniably human of him to want his closest friend to have a proper burial, to not be cut down and burnt as any other sorcerer. Satoru, egoistically, wants to have a place to come to, to talk to, to lay flowers at. He thinks that it’s alright, that it’s his own, that he’s allowed to do this because there’s no one stronger than him, right? He thinks that it’s alright to have Suguru’s grave to himself because that would feel like he still can talk to him, visit him. He takes care of it too. Flowers are always fresh, the candles are lit, the grave is clean and he feels him inside. The dead body filled with residuals so familiar, it puts Satoru at ease.

Until he doesn’t have that much time anymore. Because Sukuna awakens and he has yet another kid to take care of, to fight for. And he doesn’t know it yet, but nothing will be the same again.

Things go downhill from there. Where was he when Sukuna ripped his precious student’s heart out? As he sits in the mortuary, watching Shoko getting ready for the section, he cannot help but blame himself again. He promised to protect that child, he took him under his wing, he trained and taught him, ready to stand against the demon inside and still, he failed. And then, he laughs because this time, it seems like life is merciful. Because Sukuna allows Yuji to live.

Halloween night brings much less luck and he feels like a weapon again. Upon a curtain over Shibuya, he is sent alone because it is assumed that he’s gonna clean all the mess that unraveled. No matter how many people are there, how many curses and how dangerous. He’s the strongest, he’ll deal with it. He has to fight and he enjoys it even, for a moment, until he has to make sacrifice of people that, deep inside, he doesn’t care that much about? He cannot save everyone but there’s a promise in his actions, that he’ll at least exorcise the curses.

He makes a choice. Hanami first. He should’ve gone for Jogo. It’s chaos. And then…

The eyes he possesses tell him it’s Suguru Geto, but his soul knows otherwise. He’s sealed and he knows that he should’ve allow Shoko to dispose his friend’s body properly. But he didn’t want to. And now it was his fault.

It’s not that long for the world to go on without him and still, it seems like it’s close to ending. Satoru gets out but there’s no celebration, only grief. He has become a criminal. Most of his colleagues are dead. Is Nanami’s death his fault? Maybe if he’d exorcise the fire curse first— or Mahito. If not for Mahito both Nanami and Nobara wouldn’t—

Every choice he made in life, that prioritized his own well-being and happiness, backfired tremendously.

And Megumi. His babyboy, his stubborn son is now possessed by Sukuna? Why didn’t he see that coming? Tsumiki is gone too. And Yaga. He struggles to count the losses. A date is set and deep inside his gut he knows what will happen that day. He gives it his all. The mastery of his techniques. His fit body, his strength and all of the battle iq he has. He fights with everything he’s got, he bleeds and hurts, but it’s Megumi he fights for. It’s youth he tries to protect, it’s his son.

He feels alive for a moment, despite all, he thrives in the environment of battle so intense and extreme. He reaches the absolute top of his abilities; he gives it his absolute all. He wants to win, he wants to prove he’s the strongest, he wants to protect those who are important to him. But it’s not enough.

His fight is broadcasted and his death is too. Like a twisted reality show, an entertainment, with all the bloody detail and harsh reality of his situation. His last breath is shown through the screens. He thinks of his students a lot, he wants to show off for them, to teach them that there are levels of power that he wishes them to reach and yet, he fails. Because the levels of his power are simply not enough.

Satoru dies. Alone on the battlefield. He dies by the hand of his own boy, praised by the demon inside him and he wishes he could speak at the final moment. He knows what will happen next.

Five minutes.

He gave his permission. Used to treat himself as nothing but a weapon, he doesn’t care much what will happen to his body once he’s gone. The hope of resting next to his friend is long forgotten, he doesn’t dare to think wishfully, he doesn’t give into his egoism yet again. He wants his team to win and if that means they will use his lifeless body, throwing away his soul, then so be it.

Five minutes.

He doesn’t think much about it when Yuta brings up the topic. Frankly, he has no intention to lose the battle. He wants to take down Sukuna by himself, because if he does it, even if he dies in the process, his close ones will be safe. And he beliefs in them too. He hopes that everything he’s done in his short life is enough.

Five minutes.

That’s how long Yuta’s technique will work.

For five minutes, he’s still being used.

For five minutes, he still has to be the strongest.

It’s five minutes, and he’ll be able to rest.

The last five minutes of Satoru Gojo.

Satoru is a character deeply tragic but built so beautifully. He’s never had anything and yet he lost everything. One by one, he watched his close ones die, right in front of his eyes and he couldn’t do anything about it, even though he was the strongest. A title, almost mocking, stretched throughout his entire lifetime, marking him with powers that made him untouchable but rendering him unable to save people he cared about. His life was a trial, proving how resilient was his personality. Despite the arrogant, joyful mask, there was a deeply responsible man who dreamt big about changing the world but failed.

I’d like to think he’s got to know love, intimacy, the warmth of a touch even as gentle as a kiss to his temple but there’s nothing of such clues throughout the manga.

That is him. That is Satoru Gojo.

a/n. if you made it through this entire text, congrats! i don't expect this post to be read many times, but i needed to get this off my chest because i'm the kind of person who likes to analyze the characters. i have thoughts about most of the characters in jjk, so if you're interested in reading my dissection of someone else, let me know.

also, let's make a biding vow to give our man the fluffiest fics ever, the happiest moments and the sloppiest heads, thanks.

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader.

Part 10 wooohooo thank you for all your support I appreciate it massively!!! Don’t worry if this story has slowed down a little it’s going to pick right back up (without any spoilers 😉). Also I’m hating using the use of y/n it’s making me cringe, it’s too late to add a name to this character isn’t it 😭😭

Tension still continues between Daniel and her. Neither of their pain seems to be subsiding, and it’s safe to say Max is becoming semi-aware of their situation…

Warnings: talk of alcohol, mentions of a previous panic attack but nothing graphic, maybe some swearing? The next chapter will be HEAVYYYY, spicy, arguments, angst, crying omfg I am excited to write it so stay tuned 🤫

The first night she’d slept properly was after her panic attack, tiring her to the point of exhaustion as she passed out listening to all the cliche, heartbreak songs, Celine Dion was on the top of her list. The following few nights were hit or miss depending on sleep, luckily, right before Penelope’s 4th birthday party she’d managed to have a good sleep meaning she was pretty much raring to go.

She’d decided there’d be absolutely no tears and awkward interactions between Daniel and her, they’d texted a couple of times when he was checking if she was okay, but that was the extent of it. She couldn’t spend anymore time thinking about the man, nor could he spend any less time thinking about her. She plagued his mind, he felt like he was going absolutely crazy.

Struggling to carry the large bag full of barbies and the dream house she’d bought for the young one, Max ran over in amusement, taking the large present from her grasp. “Hi! Thank you, Max.” She offered him a quick hug. “What have you bought her, a car?!”

“Barbies of course!” “P’s gonna go crazy when she sees this. How are you anyway? Better after the other day?” She laughed out of embarrassment at his question. “I’m completely fine now, sorry I had to run away.” I shook my head. “No it’s fine, as long as you’re okay.” Max wasn’t an idiot, neither was Kelly. Neither was P.

“P was just concerned that’s all.” He patted her back with his free hand as smiled gently. “She’s excited to see you, P!” Max called out. “Look who’s here!”

“I’m excited to see her- oh my god! Is that the birthday girl?!” She fell to her knees at the little one ran into her arms, giddy with her birthday excitement. “Happy birthday, P!” She gave her a squeeze as P jumped back. Daniel watched with a gentle smile, his hand tightening around the grip on his beer bottle as his heart crumbled at the sight.

Meanwhile, she had to yet to see him there. She squealed with excitement, clapping as P did a spin her adorable dress. When she did say her hello’s she was speaking mainly with Kelly and a bunch of women she’d met a handful of times before. She was relieved to see her friends already there, somehow the thought of walking in somewhere was still intimidating to her. Through the whole evening her and Daniel didn’t speak once, they were on the opposite side of the garden all night, she stuck with her friends and he stuck with his. It somehow made Daniel feel more awkward than ever, and he wasn’t sure if it was a conscious effort on her behalf to speak to basically everybody but him. It hurt deep inside of him, it stung at his heart harsher than anything he’d felt before and a weird sickness would fill him every time he thought of how she’d avoided him. Daniel didn’t want it to be like that, if they couldn’t be together then surely they could be as close as they were before?

Daniel would always drive her places, grabbing her smoothies, and they’d always manage to find one another snickering in the most inappropriate moments. She’s sought him out after races where they’d gossip together, giggling at all the influencers there who had no clue what the hell was going on. Daniel never thought he’d miss when they were just friends, but the separation and distance between the pair felt uncomfortably cold. Another person who noticed this was Max. Odd little things had been happening, first y/n runs off crying, then Daniel looks like a sad puppy lingering around. He couldn’t help but recognise how the two didn’t speak, it was insightful, maybe he was looking too hard into it, but to Max it was blatantly obvious they were upset at one another. “You alright?” He approached the Australian man who was just preparing to leave. “Yeah, yeah, had a good time, thanks for the invite man.” Of course Daniel smiled in response.

“Something going on with you and y/n?” Max openly asked, Daniel was stunned, momentarily speechless. Maybe it was the alcohol, but Max blurted out the question quicker than he intended to. “Y/n?” Daniel flinched. “She was just a bit upset the other day, that’s all. I talked to her about it.” He scratched the back of her neck, partly avoiding Max’s question. The Dutchman decided against pressing him on the topic. The slight avoidance of the question struck Max as odd.

“Is she okay?” Daniel went to wince again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure she is.” Although he wasn’t sure at all. She seemed good today, he was glad, but surely if she was over this whole thing she would’ve spoken to him… maybe he should’ve made the first move? Oh god, his mind was overthinking like crazy, even messier with Max’s straightforwardness. That evening it was Daniel’s turn to listen to pathetically cliche heartbreak songs.

A couple days later, after qualifying, she was there again. Daniel had just gained the 6th fastest lap time, however his track time was then deleted for exceeding track limits. It was a nightmare, she found herself going from cheering to stood in disappointment. She knew Daniel wouldn’t be so happy, he’d probably take it on the chin but 6th was incredible, especially to say he was driving a tractor.

That day, her feelings had warmed up to Daniel. It’s like seeing him again at P’s birthday rid some of the anger that contaminated her previously. Once she’d spoken to both Checo and Max, she noticed Daniel lingering not far away, he’d just been talking with her dad once he’d returned over from the Alpha Tauri garage.

He walked so close besides her, and he didn’t even notice her at first, until she stood up from tying her shoe lace and they were all of a sudden face to face. “Hi Daniel.” She borderline squeaked and he felt his stomach knot and flip. “Hey, you alright?” He scanned over her face. She looked good today, not so tired.

“I’m good.” She turned away. “How about you?” Her hand raised to shield the sun from her face, actually looking him dead in the eye now. “Ah, I’m okay.” He seemed to shrug, and for a second it was a little awkward. When she scanned over his face she could feel her stomach flipping.

“You did good today, I mean- I know the whole thing with the track limits happened, but to get initially to 6th is so good.” She spoke, shrugging her shoulders timidly. “Thank you.” His voice was gentle, slightly hoarse, his chest ached so desperately for her, he yearned for her so longingly.

“Red Bull 2024’s looking promising.” She commented light heartedly, even forcing a small breath of laughter as his lips twitched up softly. “Ah, I don’t know.” He dug his foot into the ground as her smile, too, faded and she glanced over him before down to the floor. It was awkward. And it was about to get 10x more awkward when Christian walked over. “What’re you two flirting about?!” Daniel felt breathless at the fathers comment, he was positive his cheeks were already burnt up. “Dad.” She scoffed out a laugh, playfully nudging his arm away. Daniel forced a laugh.

“I’ll see you both later.” He gave Christian a friendly smack on the arm before heading off in the opposite direction and not sparing her another glance. She winced at the action, unknown to the pain that rattled through Daniel’s chest.

“What was that all about?” Christian asked, eyeing up between Daniel and his daughter. Again, she winced, cringing at the thought of having to explain anything.

“I was just speaking to him about the qualifying.” She shrugged, although her tone wasn’t so convincing. “You’re both blushing.” He narrowed his eyes, an amused smile forming on his face. She knew what he’d do, tease her to death, despite being completely blind to everything else that had already happened.

“No im not!” She defended, spluttering and raising a hand to her obviously burning cheek. “Yeah you are! Look I know you might fancy Daniel a little but-“

“Stop, I’m not 12.” She grimaced. “He is a great bloke is Daniel, anyway.” Oh my god. She officially wanted the ground to swallow her up. Not only had her dad said this to her, but he ensured Max Verstappen was in right in the firing point, overhearing all the conversation.

Max oddly looked like he’d seen a ghost, he was slowly puzzling everything together and now he was convinced that y/n and Daniel were secretly doing it behind everybody’s backs. The girl in the hotel room, the ‘discreet’ love bite on her collarbone, the hushed conversations- Max was a genius!

“I knew it!” He stormed over, filled with excitement. As soon as Christian had left the scene, he was bursting to expose the secret he’d discovered. “Know what?!” She turned in surprise.

“You and Daniel, you’re together!” Oh fuck. She felt her eyes bulge and heart begin pounding. “What?! No, no, Max, no we’re not.” His smile faded seeing as how hushed she was being about it. “You’re not?!”

“No! I mean- no…” “But I’ve seen it, I’ve heard you both.” She cringed again at his words and knew there was no denying, she just needed to quieten him.

“No- I mean yes, but we’re not anymore. Please, please don’t say a word.” An odd sense of panic washed through her, Max was stunned, staring back to the anxious looking girl. Her eyes looked the exact same way they did at the race track the other day.

“I-I won’t. Are you ok?” “I’m fine, I am. Just please don’t say anything, you can tell Kelly just not a soul else.” She pleaded, luckily she knew Max was a man of his words. It felt oddly freeing to get the secret off her chest, it’s like it had been waiting to just be blurted out the whole time. Now it really felt real, the whole thing was semi out in the open, did it make her bad to be exposing something she promised to keep secret?? The thought would eat her alive, but so did the secrecy surrounding her, very much, public sadness…

———————————————————————

🫨🫨🫨🫨

@dinodumbass @mccall-muffin @allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @ricciardhoe-3 @headinthecloudssblog

[muldermuse]

this is kind of a ramble so bear with me:

thinking about sending two sinners!gator into an absolute tailspin when he shows up to your house to see everything in boxes and your clothes packed up in a few suitcases by the door

he’s like ????? WHAT IS GOING ON WHERE ARE YOU GOING???? and just casually saying “skipping town” and going to kiss him and he’s like ??????

i can only imagine the catharsis of telling him that “there’s nothing in fargo for me, most of the town hates me and the ones who don’t just wanna fuck me, you’re probably gonna marry glenda which will only make everyone hate me even more if they find out i’m the other woman. So I want to live somewhere else. I’m not happy here.” and he obv freaks out

and maybe you’re just going to stay at a friends house while your place gets painted, but maybe leaving was on your mind (it’s easier to sell a house with fresh paint👀), and maybe you wanted to see how serious he was about coming with you…but none of that is any of his business…

i’m usually not an angst girlie but i’m on my period and it’s probably a safer bet to be melodramatic and pick a fight with a fictional man than one i actually know 😭😭

ok this ask made me feral, i felt so ANGSTY writing it

thank u so much for sending it through angel <3

18+ only!! Angst below the cut!! Gator is mean and reader is maybe meaner. They're both terrible people. He calls her a whore, she calls him a lot of mean names. Mentions of smut but no actual smut.

Maybe, this is super far in the future for the two sinners fic or maybe it is not canon. who knows!!! not me!!!

You’re not sure how he found out. You’ve quietly handed your notice in at work and said goodbye to the few in this shitty town you care about. Jenson, Jax and Steve have been ghosted (but you know that they’d all come back with a simple ‘you up?’ text). You weren’t going to tell Gator you were leaving- he didn’t deserve a goodbye. You’d planned to go for 3 months as your place was going to get renovated in that time (you’d been saving up for years to make it more of a home). So, you thought that the months away would be an opportunity to become a new person. A better person. Someone who didn’t fuck pathetic Sheriffs. If anyone looked in; they’d think you were going forever. You’d decided that as soon as you left, you’d block Gator and when (or if) you returned, you’d avoid him like the plague.

The U-HAUL parked in your drive probably gave it away. Or when Glenda saw you filling up your truck and made a snide comment about what you were doing. Or maybe it was when you fucked him 2 days ago he made a passing comment about how empty your home looked. Since then, the entire hall area is covered in boxes filled with your possessions. You try not to let it depress you that your whole life has been packed up in a matter of days. You need a fresh start, you’re moving in with a friend a few towns over and you can be whoever you want to be for a few months. No one there has to know that you’ve been fucking a loser in a relationship for the best part of 2 years. You know it’s him as soon as he knocks on the door, no one knocks as loud as him and other people wait to be invited in. Gator lets himself in as you’re checking your backpack one final time.

“The fuck is all this shit?” He kicks a box that’s in his way and you’re thankful you don’t hear a shatter. “Saw the U-Haul and uh- Glenda saw you fillin’ up. Plannin’ a trip or somethin’?”. He tries to sound unbothered but you know him better than that.

You don’t look at him when you tell him, “Yeah, I’m leaving”. You tell yourself that it’s because you’re checking your backpack but really it’s because you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins and you’re trying to compose yourself before you lose your shit.

“The fuck did you jus’ fuckin’ say?”

“Sorry, I’ll say it slower because you’re a fuckin’ idiot. I am leaving”. You draw out the last three words and stare at him. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you try to read the expression on his face. It’s a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness. A soft kiss his pressed to his cheek as you walk into the dining room to check your toiletries box. That’s the only pleasantry you’ll exchange with him today- or maybe ever again.

His boots stomp behind you as he follows you in. “Well, where are you goin’?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m there, Gator. Now you can fuck off back to Glenda and play fuckin’ happy families for the rest of your life”.

“Well- why are you leavin’? You’ve never mentioned this before”. His voice breaks as he speaks, either a sign he’s getting choked up or he’s getting really angry.

You can feel the anger rattling in your chest and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears becomes overwhelming. “Why am I going? Gator, everyone in this town fuckin’ hates me or thinks that I’m a total whore because of your fuckin’ bitch of a girlfriend. Who- by the way, you’re goin’ to marry because you’re too fuckin’ chickenshit to upset your crazy daddy…” You slam your hands on the table and take a quick breath, “Gator- I fuckin’ hate it here, I’m miserable and I can’t do it any longer- it’s killin’ me”.

He’s stood opposite you and fuck, does he look mad. He doesn’t move for a minute but then shoves your boxes off the table and kicks them when they hit the floor. After a few seconds, he kicks them again with more force and slams his hands on the table.

“Yeah, real fuckin’ mature Gator, breaking my shit beca-“

“What about this? What about us?” His voice is more muted than you’ve ever heard it. His breath is shuddering gasps. You’re unsure why it enrages you.

You laugh cruelly, “What us? What the fuck are you talking about? Gator, you have a fuckin’ girlfriend who you’re going to marry.”

“Yeah but when has that stopped you- huh? You can’t put this all on me. You’re jus’ as bad as me.”

He moves to stand in front of you. The energy in the room is charged, usually, when it feels like this between the pair of you, it would end in some angry sex where you’re both trying to dominate the other person but you both know that isn’t going to happen today. 

“You’re movin’ away to be a fuckin’ whore somewhere else... or because you’re jealous of Glenda. She gets all of me and you jus’ get the fuckin’ scraps”. His smile is wicked and his eyes look darker than you’ve ever seen them.

You take a step closer to him, “I couldn’t think of anything fucking worse than havin’ all of you. You’re a pathetic fuckin’ daddy’s boy who’s never won anythin’ in his life”. You get close enough to whisper in his ear, “you’re a fuckin’ loser, Gator.”

You hate how much you want to fuck him in this moment and by the red bloom that’s creeping up his neck; you know he feels the same.

He leaves your home silently. He kicks another box on his way out and you finally hear a shatter. His tyres spin as his car races off your front lawn. 

You should block his number and know that that is the end of this awful affair. 

But you both know that it isn’t.

[em-harlsnow]

em have you seen the tiktok trend of folks trying to eat as fast as their husband??? do u think ian or mickey is the fast eater? or is it both of them?

p.s. i LOVE ur tiktok trend fics they make me giggle they're SO silly <3

thank you so much! i’m writing a lot of anxt at the moment, so these help me write something a bit more fun!

ian figures out the day after that mickey was fucking with him, using his own idea of doing the trends. he knows that he deserves it, but still.

a few days later, he finds a new trend. it’s not so much a prank, although ian’s been looking for those too, but it’s funny and a challenge so he’s obviously going to do it.

see, mickey’s a quick eater, which ian thinks is weird because he’s small. well, small compared to ian who actually chooses to enjoy his food instead of scoffing it down in three seconds.

he thinks he can definitely eat faster than mickey if he actually tried.

they pass a burger king every wednesday at the end of their route, and ian thinks its the perfect opportunity. they don’t eat fast food out as much anymore, usually ordering it and saving eating out for fancier meals. but when he suggests it to mickey, he gets an enthusiastic ‘hell yeah, gallagher, knew why i married your ass’.

ian orders the same as mickey, so the competition is even. it’s a big burger, the Double Whopper, which ian thinks probably has enough cholesterol to give three men heart problems, but he’s not backing down from the challenge. even if mickey doesn’t know it’s a challenge.

they eat in the car, and mickey almost looks happier than he did on their wedding day when he unwraps the thing. it makes ian jealous of a stupid burger.

he starts immediately, taking a large bite which ian matches pretty much exactly. faster than expected, mickey washes it down with a sip of coke and then starts on the next bite, leaving ian rushing to catch up.

jesus, he’s used to having things down his throat, but this is a whole nother level.

the thing is, mickey actually seems to be enjoying the burger which ian doesn’t get because he’s hardly tasting it. he’s moving on to a third bite before ian’s even finished chewing.

he regrets his decision, but maybe he can make this work. if he distracts mickey with conversation, maybe he’ll slow down.

“you know debbie texted sandy?”

mickey nods, continuing devouring without breaking eye contact with the food, and now ian’s left behind from his break to talk.

with his mouth full, he garbles, “did she reply?”

and mickey, completely content with eating with his mouth full, says, “can’t talk right now, eating.”

well, there goes that plan.

for a moment, mickey takes a break. he sips from his coke and munches on handfuls of the chips they got instead which ian matches bite for bite. annoyed, he notices mickey has a lot more of his burger left than ian.

“hey, what’s that?” he shouts, pointing, and while he’s distracted ian gets a few more bites in.

“what’s what?” mickey asks, looking to where ian’s finger is.

“thought i saw a big rat.” he mumbles around another mouthful.

mickey gives him a weird look, then proceeds to finish the burger in two more bites while ian just looks on, completely stunned.

desperately, he tries to take a few more bites but he hasn’t even finished what he’s already has and ends up looking like a chipmunk.

mickey watches him while he sips his coke, laughing.

“what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing, im eating.” he says in a way that’s barely distinguishable.

“you look like a squirrel.”

ian just holds up a middle finger, realising this is just a lost cause.

mickey continues to laugh, and ian just rolls his eyes.

once he’s finally done, he looks at his husband like he’s mad.

“what?” mickey asks, swiping at the corners of his mouth to see if he’s got sauce anywhere.

“you eat so fast i don’t know how you don’t choke.” ian tells him, finally realising he can enjoy the chips without having to rush.

“i’m good at not choking on big things.” he laughs, making ian shove him and roll his eyes again.

i hope it lived up to expectations!!

-> send me a tiktok trend and ill write a mini fic!

[lynxtheserval]

Can i request Self-awake! Yandere! Illumina x player! reader? reader main sword

deadass kinda hard to write with limited information so I'm so sorry if it's bad or ooc!

Also! This wasn't the best writing I've done so I'm so sorry for that, but schools been hella crazy ngl

Might do a part 2 if y'all want , but it might take a while to make haha

Self-Aware!Yan!Illumina x player!reader

(TW: not as hard on the yandere aspects, but still a tw for stalking (kinda), kidnapping (also kinda), and curse words)

It was a normal day for you, at first at least. You got up, went to your classes in college, went back to your dorm, and played a Roblox game for a little while. You played Slap Battles for a good moment or two until you got bored of slapping children off a cliff with your overpowered paid glove. You then got back onto your favorites page, and saw a game you haven't played in like… a week.

Phighting.

It seems it got some sort of update, because the game icon changed to… some sorta deity looking thing. You didn't know much about the lore, you were mostly just playing the game for the gameplay. You had no idea what or who the icon was showing, but you went into the game without a second thought.

It loaded up like normal, same old music, same old map, same old characters… seems like nothing much has changed.

So you picked your main, Sword, and got into the game. You went to where Zuka was, pressing all the buttons you needed to get into the game.

It loaded.

And loaded.

And loaded.

Why the hell was it taking so long?

You started getting a little frustrated, and made an audible sigh of annoyance. You tried to close the game, but.. you couldn't? You went to the task manager, and tried closing Roblox from there, but Roblox didn't even show up! In fact.. nothing did. Your computer was messed up. You tried to turn off the computer as a whole, but surprise surprise, it didn't turn off.

“What the fuck..?” You murmured.

Then your computer froze completely. You tried clicking every button, tried turning it off AGAIN, and anything you could think of, until the computer suddenly unfroze.

You looked back up at the screen, and you saw you were.. still in Phighting, somehow. You were still in Crossroads, But every other player was gone, and all the NPCs were too, you were alone.

“What the hell..?” You decided to look around the map, or the middle part of Crossroads at least.

Then you saw something in the chat. A name in purple-ish white text. A name reading: Illumina.

“Hello, I've been waiting for your arrival, Y/n.”

It.. it knew your name. Not your username, but your ACTUAL FUCKING NAME. Your own computer doesn't even know your own name! You use your username for everything!

You managed to type in the chat:

“Hello? How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you, my dear. Now why don't you come meet me face to face, hm?”

Your computer froze again. Then, out of nowhere, your body started hurting, your ears started ringing, your eyes got blurry, your head started aching, it felt like you were dying. You soon passed out.

You woke up startled. You quickly sat up, but your head didn't seem to be feeling too great. Once your vision calmed down and you were able to see again, you looked around at where you were. You seemed to be in some brightly lit white room with no door and no windows. You got up from the oddly comfortable bed you woke up in and stood up. And with a thud, you fell onto the floor, your legs giving up on you.

“You won't be able to walk for a few hours, Y/N. So stop trying.”

You heard a voice, intimidating and masculine in nature. You looked up towards the voice.

A man, or what looks to be a man, was looking down at you. A bright figure, with one wing, dressed in mostly flowy clothes. He was wearing mostly white, but had a hint of purple in his outfit as well. Not to mention, one purple horn protruding from the left side of his head, with two other small horns coming out of the main one.

You moved to try to get up again but before you could, the man picked you up, and placed you back on the bed. You both made eye contact, his eyes… they were completely white, and bright, they seemed like they would blind you if you looked in them too long. He took notice of this, and smiled slightly.

“Good morning, love. Are you feeling okay? Humans.. I do not know if they handle world transportation well.”

“I.. who.. who are you..?” You managed to ask, it was hard for you to talk, it seemed.

“I am Illumina, and you are Y/N, such a lovely name.”

He placed a pale hand on your cheek, and laughed a little when you tried to pull away. You were confused, and scared, but you felt so.. weak, that you didn't have enough energy to push back too hard.

“Y/N, do not worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

“Wh..what do you mean..? Wh..where am I..?”

“You're home.”