#and THEN when he apologized and said he wanted to be better you could FEEL the self hatred within him still | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gibberishfangirl · 2 days ago

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WINDBREAKER | i crumble completely when you cry

Synopsis ✰ you caught a bad case of the blues

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Mitsuki Kiryu, Jo Togame

Contains ✰ sfw!, crying, them trying to comfort you, lots of hugs, kisses, established relationship, bottled up emotions, reader is stressed/sad, seasonal depression, reader has self doubt, anxiety is implied, angst with a good dose of fluff, boyfriends are boyfriending

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

man… you’ve been so mean to him all day. ‘what’s her problem’ sakura couldn’t help but ask himself that question on repeat. the way you shoved him off whenever you walked past him, avoiding eye contact, and ignoring him whenever he tried to talk to you. he was tired of it, you’ve been like this for days. he could feel himself getting more frustrated the more you shut him out of your life. he was going to talk to you today if it was the last thing he’ll do. “hey can we talk?” “no.” you curved him with a harsh reply as you walked past him once again. five. that was the fifth time you did that this day. you disappeared out of his sight while he processed the amount of times you shut him down.

sakura let out an exhausted sigh as he continued to walk down every street looking for you. where could you even be at this time? he was getting hungry and it’s late he just wanted to make sure you at least got home safe at this point. he considered going into your guys’ favorite diner to catch some food and see if you were around the area. he eventually figured why not and made his way over there only to be stopped in his footsteps as he heard soft sniffling and sobs coming from the small neighborhood park. he felt his heart drop at the sound as the whimpers sounded too familiar to his ears for his liking. he hated that sound. mainly because he hated you being so sad.

he felt like an idiot. you were sad not angry this whole time and he couldn’t tell the difference. Sakura quietly made his way into the park when he spotted you crying on the swing set all by yourself. he took a seat on the swing next to you before opening his mouth “you okay?” you instantly recognized his voice but couldn’t respond from the choked up sobs you were letting out. the most you could do was shake your head no as you tried to stop crying. Sakura rubbed small circles on your back as you continued to sob and choke on your tears struggling to catch your breath. you rubbed your eyes with your sweater as an attempt to stop the tears.

“c’mere it’s okay.” sakura guided you off the swing and into his lap as your sobs reduced to small hiccups. sakura would be a liar if he said seeing you like this didn’t break his heart or make him feel sad as well. he hates to see you not be yourself. nonetheless he accepted your affection as you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled into him. “‘m sorry i was so mean to you.” your voice cracked as you apologized. sakura continued to massage your back, “it’s okay, y’know you could’ve told me if you were just feeling down.” “i-i-i-knowididntnwant-wan-you to-worry.” you blurted out as fast as you could in between sobs. to anyone else it might’ve just sounded like gibberish but sakura understood what you were trying to say. “i’ll always worry about you regardless.” sakura admits with a blush, slightly thankful you couldn’t see it as your head was buried into his neck. he consoled you for as long as you needed never breaking the grasp he had on you. he didn’t want to let go until he knew you were ready.

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

of course Ume knew something was wrong. he’s a lot more observant than he leads others to believe. especially when it comes to you, he notices everything about you. he knows you better than he even knows himself. which is why he couldn’t stand the way your eyes were swollen and puffy from the previous nights you obviously spent crying. despite trying your best to conceal it with make up or fake smiles he knew. it made him feel bad to think there was something you wouldn’t want him to know about. of course it was your right to choose what you wanted to keep yourself but it still hurt him to not be able to be there for you the way he wishes he could be.

if you didn’t want to talk, that’s okay. he’d never force you to if you weren’t ready, it’s not his right. for now he’d accept being there for you as he laid on the hammock with you on his chest. you both sat in silence as he listened to your faint heartbeat and small inhales and exhales. he grew worried when he felt your breathing become unsteady. he took a moment to stop looking up at the sky and tilted his head down to you. your hair was covering most of your expression so he tucked some of it behind your ear to get a better look at you. “there you are~ my pretty lover.” he coo’d at the sight of your face while you scoffed in response. “wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” he gently asked you unsure if he should’ve asked at all. he slightly regretted it once he saw tears prickle in your eyes. the way he could visibly notice giant tear drops gathering at the bottom of your eyes.

“don’t know what’s wrong with me. i might just be crazy.” you mumbled against his chest as tears streamed down your face. “ah don’t say that you’re not crazy. it’s normal.” he reassures you, playing with the strands of your hair just the way you like as he slightly massaged your scalp. “doesn’t feel normal.” “doesn’t mean it’s not okay.” “i’m just sad.” “it’s okay to be sad sometimes, just gotta talk through it and fight it okay? don’t let it swallow you whole.” “that’s hard.” “yeah… well that’s why you have me. i’m always here to help.” Ume gently reassured you before placing the softest kiss on the top of your head. it was so soft you almost missed it.

“you don’t ever wish you were with someone more normal?” “and miss out on someone as amazing as you? nah.” “i think you could find better.” “what a silly thing to say.” Ume couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his mouth. in his perspective it truly was such a silly thing for you to say since it didn’t get better than this in his eyes. you were the best that he could ever find in this world and he has no intention on letting that go ever. “it’s not funny!” you’d pout finally looking up at him with tear stained eyes. “you’re right, it’s not. you should never think i could possibly find someone as perfect as you are.” he agreed with you but not in the way you thought he would. Ume couldn’t help himself as he pulled you up closer to him so your faces can align. he placed a kiss on your lips, another two on the corners of your mouth, another two on each side of your cheeks, one near the corner of your left eye, another near the corner of right eye, and lastly one on your forehead. Ume would kiss your tear stained face for as long as he needed to in order to stop those evil thoughts from entering your head.

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

Suo couldn’t really pinpoint what was wrong. despite him being pretty well at reading people and understanding where someone is coming from he couldn’t tell what was happening. had something happened recently to cause such a change in you? did he do something wrong? all he could do was watch you sadly as you poked around your ice cream barely consuming any of it. it took you forever to finish it, and it was your favorite ice cream. normally you would’ve finished it quickly while telling him a funny story that happened between you and your friend. the date night between you two was spent in silence for the most part despite his attempts to perk up the conversation. maybe you were done with him? maybe you were finally over the relationship? his mood was going down the drain the more he wondered what was this tension surrounding the two of you.

“you okay suo? you seem upset.” the sound of your soft spoken voice snapped him out of thoughts. he looked at your eyes and now that he thought about it… he’s never seen you with such sad eyes before. your eyes were drained and had no light in them yet here you were asking and caring about him. you reached over to feel his forehead “mm’ your a bit warm. we should get you inside you can get sick.” you insisted taking him by the hand and leading him back to your home. once the two of you got to your place you laid in bed together and you asked again “you sure you’re fine? i don’t want you feeling bad.” while cuddling closer to him. all the negative thoughts Suo was thinking earlier vanished. of course you still loved him, you wouldn’t act this way if you didn’t. but still… you weren’t happy and he didn’t know how to help.

“are you okay?” he finally asked. “huh? why wouldn’t i be?” “your eyes. they look sad.” “oh…” you could feel your own face heat up, you didn’t think he’d notice but of course he did. Suo noticed everything. “i don’t really want to talk about it right now.” you sheepishly admitted. you felt a bit cowardly about not being able to open up about the random sadness that tended to pain your chest every once in a while. you always struggled with opening up about this situation and never knew how to word things which is why you tended to avoid it as much as you could. “that’s okay. we’ll talk when you’re ready. i’ll just hold you for now if that’s okay.” “that’s more than okay.” you sighed in relief, glad he didn’t push the topic further. you felt the tension that had burden you all day lift off your shoulders for that night. having someone who can understand you in silence and comfort you was all you could wish for in that moment. sometimes you didn’t want to talk, you just wanted to be held.

something Suo would always do for you: he’ll hold you and never let go. some people couldn’t handle silence but you were glad suo was so understanding and understood it in the same way you did. words couldn’t describe the amount of relief and comfort you felt once you woke up in the morning to find yourself still in suo’s arm. his grip on you never weakening as your eyes met the soft sleeping expression worn on his face. it felt nice to snuggle into him and listen to the bass of his heartbeat knowing he’d never leave no matter how hard things got. it filled you up with hope that bad days don’t last forever and that they will go away.

Mitsuki Kiryu ᡣ𐭩

he couldn’t stand the way your eyes puffed up from the amount of crying you were doing. he hated to see how sad you were like any other good boyfriend would. he would wipe your tears carefully as he held your face. he’d take in your facial expressions as you sniffled and rubbed your eyes. you avoided any type of eye contact with him, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about how wrong this hang out went. the two of you were at a party, you thought it’d help cheer you up but you ended up getting overwhelmed. Kiryu was the first to realize you were upset and took you outside for some fresh air. he knew you were at a vulnerable place and kept you perfectly hidden from sight with his body. you didn’t want anyone else seeing you like this. “you okay love? wanna leave? we can go home.” Kiryu wasn’t sure of what exactly triggered this response from you but his utmost concern was getting you comfortable.

“yeah. let’s go, wanna go home.” you replied shyly still avoiding his caring gaze. Kiryu guided you away from the scene, he didn’t even bother saying goodbye to anyone. once the two of you got home he grew even more worried considering the fact that you hadn’t stopped crying. the only difference was your cry became more silent over time. you sat on the bed as Kiryu helped undress you. carefully taking off your jacket and shoes, he treated you like a fragile porcelain doll. you didn’t fight back his help and laid on the bed to cuddle up with a pillow. he’d sit on the edge next to you as he pushed your hair out of your face. he’d trace the sides of your face with his gentle soft fingers. “want some hot chocolate? might make you feel better.” he’d offer. he assumed from your complete silence you didn’t want to talk about it so he moved on to doing anything else he can to cheer you up. you felt like your voice would give out on you if you tried to respond so you settled with a small nod.

“kay, be right back in a few minutes.” he’d press a gentle kiss on your cheek and wrap a blanket around you before heading out. just like he promised he was back within a few minutes with a nice cup of hot chocolate. he sat back on the edge of the bed and softly blew into the cup wanting to make sure it wouldn’t be too hot for you. he was relieved to see you more calm, your hiccups and soft sobs were gone as you gained the energy to sit back up. he brought his hand behind your back to give you a small massage while he used his free hand to bring up the cup to you. the sip of the hot tasty substance really helped you calm your nerves. “thank you.” you mumbled with a blush finally meeting his eye. the small gesture of you meeting his eyes had Kiryu smiling. he was glad you finally were able to meet his gaze after all this time. “of course. let me get you some pj’s” he offered already getting a set out for you from his closet.

“c’mon lemme help you.” he insisted resting his hands on the buckle of your jeans. he wouldn’t pursue action without your full consent. “i-no! you shouldn’t. that’s… embarrassing… isn’t it?” you blushed furiously. this whole conversation was almost enough to make you forget about your previous crying session. “embarrassing?? no. it isn’t why should it be? i want to take care of you.” he giggled playfully. his voice and loving eyes cracked a small smile out of you for the first time this night. especially with the way his voice was laced with pure genuine love. “oh… okay then.” you weren’t used to others going out of their way to care or cheer you up the way Kiryu was doing right now. it felt nice and comforting to know someone like this would be in your corner at all times. Kiryu’s love goes above and beyond for you even if you were in dark times. he’d help guide you back to happiness and care for you each step of the way. he wouldn’t push on the subject until you were comfortable.

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

Jo can always get the hint when you’re feeling down. hes very observant so it’s easy for him to catch any small detail about you even if you assume he didn’t notice. so when he noticed your blues coming in and your distant behavior his first thought was wondering if someone did anything to you. but when you never came to him for help he figured it wasn’t that. you knew if someone was giving you problems you could always get your boyfriend to handle them so it had to be something else. maybe it was something he couldn’t understand? he’d bring hell upon anyone who unsettled you so he didn’t know how to handle when it wasn’t someone. you were typically the more outgoing one than him in the relationship so he hated seeing you mope about. he’d come up with ways on how to cheer you up even going as far as asking Choji for some advice. who better to ask for advice? you were his sole reason for finding the motivation to get out of bed everyday, if you were feeling sad he’ll do anything in his power to make it better.

you sulked in bed for most of the day waiting for Jo to get back home from work and running errands. you almost called it night until the door gently creaked opened revealing your tall handsome man. in all honesty Jo was tired after a long day of work but he still wanted to make this night special for you even if it meant dragging his tired feet across every store to find your favorite flowers, snacks and movies on dvd so the two of you can have a movie night. curiosity struck you fast as you quickly removed your covers waiting for him to show you what was in the bag. Jo let out a chuckle at your quick reaction, “hey pretty girl, got you some stuff.” he’d take off his dirty black work jacket before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. the two you spent the night chatting about his day for a bit before cuddling and watching the movies. it was nice to get your mind distracted from the thoughts that were haunting you lately.

“do you want to talk about what’s wrong?” Jo asked as the first movie ended. “not really, guess i just felt a bit down.” you tried to shrug off. you weren’t the best at expressing yourself during these times especially when insecurity was eating you from the inside out. Jo raised a brow up at you already knowing you all too well to know it was more than just “feeling down”. “i was a little insecure.” you mumbled quietly hating the way it sounded so foolish out loud. Jo felt a bit taken back at your response a small part of him was waiting for the punchline but it never came. not that he thought it was funny in the slightest, but because in his eyes you were as good as life itself got. he wasn’t sure how to respond at first, he wanted to tell you that you shouldn’t feel that way but he felt like that wasn’t a good move. he can’t force you to feel differently but he wished he could make you realize that you were perfect. instead of responding he tilted your head up at him and kissing you straight on the lips.

“what was that for?” “for being you.” Jo mumbled before interlocking your lips once again. he figured it would be better to show you how beautiful you were instead of only using his words. even if that meant having to show you every single day for the rest of his life. he’ll do it even after you realize you’re the only one for him. you could expect many cuddle sessions and more to come from Jo anytime you felt the slightest bit of insecurity or doubt creep into the back of your mind.

a/n <3: i’ve been feeling pretty down recently so similar posts like this are coming soon 😭 sorry but i hope yall still enjoy! also i am a FIRM believer that jo is the type of man to work all day just to provide for the both of you and still make time to create special moments for you each and every single day. he’s just such a lover boy sorry i don’t make the rules.

#sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #mitsuki kiryu #mitsuki kiryu x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker

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aboutcustardcreams · 1 day ago

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Wake up call

pt. 1

a/n: I'm not going to follow the series episode by episode, as I already mentioned. This story will focus primarily on the three witches' story, so I'll probably jump forward and back in time at my own discretion from now on. If you're curious about something in particular, feel free to tell me in the comments. Would you prefer that I go back or forward from now on? (also, sorry for eventual typos or mistakes).

pt. 2

Agatha looked as surprised as you for a moment. The boy was on his knees, squirming uncomfortably at the rope around his wrists and ankles. He said something, his voice sounded muffled through the duct tape.

“Oh, uhm.. well, I may have accidentally kidnapped him.”

You blinked in disbelief, “How can you accidentally kidnap someone?”

The kid muttered something else you couldn’t quite comprehend. You thought it was his way to agree with you, so you grinned, whereas Agatha groaned in annoyance. As the boy persisted, you realized what he really wanted from you.

“Oh–”, you mouthed a quick apology, lips stretching in an awkward smile as you took the tape off his mouth with a quick puck. He winced, but then muttered a ‘thanks’ to you. Had he been locked in there the whole night? Instead of that, you asked a different question, “you alright?”, twirling your finger, you made him turn around to untie the rope around his wrists and ankles.

He sighed and gave you a grateful smile once free, “much better.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, not really sure about what else was to say, despite having tons of questions. There couldn’t be a moment worse than this to have to deal with a kid.

“Agatha, love, care to explain?”

Your lover paid no attention, or rather she feigned to be distracted doing practically nothing more than walking up and down the house, as she mentally freaked out due to the last events.

“There’s nothing to explain–”, she waved dismissively, “For all I care he can keep the house.”

The boy frowned and quite frankly so did you. You walked up to her, confusion written all over your features, “Agatha, what in heaven are you talking about?”

The boy followed behind in silence.

When she suddenly spun around, Agatha was so close, you almost stumbled backwards. “Did you listen to Rio’s words or not?” There was a hint of frustration in her tone, quite relatable in fact, and yet...

Your head lolled to the side, “so your plan is to leave?”

“Glad you’re catching up," she grinned cheekily.

With no magic at her disposal, she had no intention of facing the Salem Seven, and even less letting you anywhere near them to save her life. So running was the best and only option she could think of at the moment; that hopefully would give her enough time to figure out a way to restore her magic and be a witch again.

You ran a hand through your hair, eyes glancing only briefly over the boy, who gave you a tight smile in return. A part of you wondered what he was doing still there. Didn't he have places to be, like school or whatever?

Before Agatha could walk from you again, you reached out to grab her wrist, “So, this is what we will do,” you started, silently enjoying the whiny sound slipping from her lips, “we sit down, talk it out like mature adults, and you–” pointing a finger at the boy, “you’re gonna tell me why you broke into our house in the first place.”

“Uhm.. yeah, I..”

“We don’t have time for this!” Agatha exclaimed, “Need I remind you there’s a price on our heads?”

A playful smirk tugged at your lips and unable to resist teasing her, you quipped, “technically it’s on yours. I only happen to be in your shit as per usual.”

The boy let out a quiet chuckle, that you were about to reciprocate hadn't it been for Agatha’s hand flapping at the nape of your neck, “Oof!" you whined.

Amusement glimmered in her eyes, “You had it coming,” she retorted. Then she glanced over the boy, with a grimace. “Not to be rude or anything, but we’ve got a lot on our plate so if you could just–” She pointed to where the front door used to be, her confidence dimming slightly, “this house is a complete disaster.”

She looked so annoyed right now, tired and scared even, but the latter she would never admit. Completely forgetting about the boy, you focused on Agatha and placed a hand over the small of her back, “it’s not so bad…” you trailed off, resting your chin on her shoulder. She knew you weren't only referring to the conditions of the house. Her eyes fell shut for a moment, her features relaxed when you started stroking her skin, lips barely brushing against a soft spot behind her ear, “we have an excuse to redecorate now.”

Despite everything, Agatha let out a small chuckle. She turned around and draped an arm around your waist. With everything that happened in such a short time, she hadn’t given herself a moment to truly cherish the fact that you were back—the real you. Sure, even without your memories, you stood by Agatha’s side all those years, but having you here now, like in the old days, felt different. It was different. Her eyes darted from your face to your collarbone, nose scrunching up at the sight of the nasty bluish bruise— a reminder of Rio’s hands on you. Her hand glided up to your face, tracing your jawline before slowly moving down to your collarbone, fingers barely grazing your skin, mindful that it was still tender and possibly sore.

“Are you–?”

Your eyes softened at the hesitation in her voice, “you shouldn’t worry about that.”

“I always worry about what matters," she argued back.

"Sappy," you teased.

With an eye roll, she smirked, "brat."

When her eyes darted towards the boy once again, she let out an incredulous scoff, “you better have a darn good reason to still be dangling here.”

Color drained from his face. Quite frankly, Agatha could be intimidating when she tried. Even when she didn't. “I-I do!” He cleared his throat. “I want to walk the Witches' Road. It’s the only reason why I broke in here really and–” he was talking so fast, for a moment you thought your mind had tricked you. There was no way he said the words ‘witches’ and ‘road’ in the same sentence.

Agatha's eyes snapped wide open, “what’s that you say?”

“The Witches’ Road,” he repeated, slower and firmly. It hit you hard. You couldn't help it. “I want you to take me there,” his eyes softened and so did his voice as he added, “please.”

Agatha tried to meet your eyes then, but you had your gaze dropped to the floor.

“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist.”

“You’re lying,” he argued.

Agatha scoffed bitterly, “am I?”, voice rising in exasperation.

When you slowly lifted your chin towards the boy, you squint your eyes so much as if you were troubled by a sudden headache, “You’re asking for a death wish here.”

Agatha agreed, “quite literally.”

The boy looked crestfallen, but he didn’t back down, “You only say that because you think I’m inexperienced, which is fair. I am. But I can make it to the end-”

Your lips pursed in a grimace as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. First Rio, then the Salem Seven on your heels, and now this boy who had no idea what he was asking for.

“Look, I love your confidence– but the Road is no place for a kid.”

Agatha sank into the couch in the lounge, curling a finger at you in invitation. Smiling, you obliged, perching yourself on the armrest beside her. You were close enough that her hand could slip to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing soft, lazy patterns over the fabric of your pants. The gentle rhythm of her touch soothed you, and you allowed yourself to calm your nerves, focusing on her proximity and nothing else.

“I’m sixteen,” he objected, taking a seat onto the chair across from you.

“Oh, why didn’t you say that before? That changes… nothing.”

You had to stifle a laugh at her sarcastic remark.

He gave a dramatic eye roll. “Come on! You walked it before and survived!”

Your brows knit in a frown. Just how much did that boy actually understand about you and Agatha? Or rather, how much did he think he understood? No one truly knew what it had been like for the two of you back in the eighteenth century. People clung to their own assumptions, and you let them—after all, the real truth was far too painful to share. Not a single soul knew the true story behind the reputation Agatha had built, nor the reasons why so many had to die in the first place.

Agatha’s hand stilled on your thigh, “I had a very good reason to stay alive, plus I’m exceptional.”

It wasn’t a lie, not completely at least.

The boy’s eyes shifted from Agatha’s to yours. You felt as if he knew what Agatha was talking about you. You saw something, a glimpse of understanding in those eyes that somehow unsettled you. If Agatha was known as ‘witch killer’ for all the wrong reasons, your reputation also preceded you, but you struggled to say the words.

“I read an egregious amount about you two. I’ve been obsessed since I first came up with your Salem days… the way you two met, and oh my God- don’t get me started on your magic skills.”

So you and Agatha had a little fan.

Agatha’s interest rose considerably. She grinned, “cute. Isn't he a cute pet?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure whether to be flattered or freaked out by all this interest,” you mused.

The boy completely ignored the fact that Agatha just called him pet. “Sorry, I just– you’re a necromancer witch!” He was now struggling to keep a posed tone of voice, and you found yourself scratching the back of your head, not really used to being praised by your gift/curse. Quite the opposite in fact. “Guilty as charged,” you quipped.

Agatha’s hand moved towards your knee, thumb brushing in a soothing circle there. You smiled inwardly at the gesture.

“Books say witches your kind is so rare, powerful and–”

“harrowed, banished, burned at the stake?” You cut him off in a sing-song tone.

Agatha snorted, “you name it.”

She knew better than anyone what it felt like to be brushed aside. It was one of the reasons why she could bond with you so easily and so quickly. You understood her before she could even attempt to comprehend the complexity about herself and her power.

Teen blinked confusedly, “I was gonna say interesting.”

You clasped your hands together and took a deep breath. “Look, we appreciate your enthusiasm. You seem like a really smart boy, and I’m sure you’re destined for great things, but we can’t help you, not with that-”

“But I saved Agatha from the spell…” his smile turned into a frown and his features dimmed as a consequence, “I’d have come to you too if she hadn’t locked me up in the closet. But w-wait,” he suddenly came to a halt, eyebrows knitting in a frown as a new question popped up in his mind. “How did you wake up from the hex?”

Agatha knew, but said nothing, leaving the explanations to you.

“It’s hard to explain–” Being a necromancer allowed you to have all sorts of… vibes. Plus your soul was connected to Agatha’s and her life being threatened by something– or rather someone you knew quite well worked as a wake up bell for you, “it’s like a sixth sense, but better. I can always feel when Agatha needs me. I got a pull into reality the moment Rio broke into the house with the purpose of harming her. I felt her aura. She and I– let’s just say our magic works like opposite poles of a magnet.”

Agatha’s features hardened a bit, as she nibbled on the inside of her cheek out of nervousness. Your magic being complementary to Rio’s had caused you more problems than anything else. She almost lost you to her, and that’s something she would probably never forget.

The boy hummed in thought. He was clearly intrigued by your magic and took a mental note to ask you more questions at the first next opportunity, considering he left his notebook in the car.

“And who’s Rio? I didn’t hear much but– there seemed to be a history–”

“Trouble.”

“A bitch.”

Both you and Agatha said in unison.

“We don’t really need to talk about her now…” you kept vague, hoping he would catch the silent message passing through your eyes. Talking about her was never easy, not when your feelings for her were so tangled and conflicting. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love her anymore, cause you still did. And Agatha... well, she probably did too, however, she would never admit it, not to you and even less to herself. The past clung like a shadow, and neither of you could ever truly forget. The ache of Rio's choices lingered, buried deep, a silent reminder of what your bond once was and could never be again.

He pressed his lips together and gave you a slow nod of his head in return.

“I’m curious,” she smacked her lips, your head turned towards her, as she continued, “If you’ve got the goods to break a spell cast by the Scarlet Witch, why do you need the Road?”

Your eyes widened in shock. Was she really considering this?

“The Road promises that what you’re looking for awaits at its end. I need to walk the road so I can figure out the extent of my power..” he explained and she hummed, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Don’t you need power yourself?”

Agatha’s back stiffened, “I most certainly do, yes.”

“She doesn’t need to walk the Witches' Road for that,” you pointed out, glancing at the purple witch with the corner of your eyes.

The boy was confused. Without giving him too much information, you simply told him that you could share your magic. And, in a way, it was true. A more accurate version would have been explaining that Agatha could kill a witch by absorbing all her power, leaving nothing behind but dust. But that was far too dramatic, plus you were still one hundred percent sure she couldn’t and wouldn’t harm you in any way.

She let out a long, exhausted sigh at your insistence, “For the umpteenth time, I’m not taking your magic–”

“Ugh!" You groaned. "Aggs, Rio warned us–”

“She mentioned the Salem Seven, didn’t she?” The boy cut you off. “I’m sorry but y-you’ve got zero chances against them without magic, Agatha.”

She shot him an icy glare, “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

Your lips trembled a bit, as you struggled to hold back an amused grin.

“I’m just trying to understand which alternatives you have,” he muttered defensively.

Agatha opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Nothing that she could use to hush both you and the kid.

“He’s got a point, you know. You need my magic, like right now.”

Once again, she ignored you. “Or maybe, we need to walk the Witches' Road one last time.”

The boy’s mouth parted ajar, “Really?”

“Really?” You echoed in a squeak.

She simply nodded her head, giving you an innocent smile that only fueled your incredulity. You let out a quiet, bitter chuckle right after, at the same time shaking your head in disbelief.

“Agatha, sweetheart, a word?”

You held out your hand for her to take, and just like she did a moment ago, you forced a serene, tranquil smile—one that didn’t quite reach your eyes but would have fooled anyone who didn’t know you better. She took your hand, her fingers curling around yours as she let you lead her toward the kitchen. Once you were far enough from the boy to speak more privately, you locked eyes with Agatha. Your face was practically shouting, ‘What the hell?!’ —a silent message that she heard loud and clear, without a single word spoken.

“The Road doesn’t exist! What’s your plan?”

“We are the only ones aware of that,” she stated matter of factly as if that could be used as a great advantage. “Teen is right, without my magic, I can’t defend myself against the Salem Seven, I can’t protect myself or you.”

If this wasn’t handled carefully, it could spiral into something much worse. You knew, better than anyone, how deeply it hurt Agatha to feel powerless, especially when it came to protecting those she loved. She had faced this agony with Nicky, and now, here she was again, reliving the same fear, this time, for you. Her own life, in that moment, felt like nothing compared to yours. Because without you in it, there was no existence worth living for her.

“You could,” you insisted, in a low, almost pleading tone. “if only you took my power–” It was so easy.

“I’m not willing to take any risks with you,” she stepped into your bubble, her hands tightening around your shoulders, in a possessive and yet still attentive way. She wanted you to understand. She needed you to be on her side on this. “I need to make sure I've got control over my thirst first. It's been so long since the last time I did that so I'm sorry but you’ll not be the lab rat for it.”

“Are you really thinking of using the boy?”

Agatha’s mouth dropped open, “Oh no, my God- no! I’m not talking about Teen, you idiot!”

You crossed your arms over your chest and gave her a defiant look.

She gave in after a bunch of seconds, “Okay, maybe I did think of him for a minute. He did break the Scarlet Witch’s hex, though."

You pinched the bridge of your nose at that.

“But we still need to ‘walk’ the Witches Road, except that this time, we aren’t killing anyone,” you’re ready to argue back again, but she didn’t let you, so you bit your bottom lip instead, trying really trying to find the silver lining at the end of this plan. “Here’s what we will do: we gather a coven, make some female friends, sing the Ballad, it doesn’t work, wowie-!, I call them names, they get angry and blast me. I take their magic and stop right before they turn into dust.”

She paused and took into your eyes, letting you assimilate her words, hopeful you’d find her idea good enough, because there was really no time for anything else.

“So, to recap—,” you cleared your throat, “you’re willing to lie to that kid, to the poor witches we’ll meet along the way, witches who’ll eventually turn against us once they learn our intentions, but you’re not willing to take my magic that’s literally within arm’s length because you’re scared you’ll kill me.”

She hummed, feeling quite satisfied with your summary, “yep.”

A slow smirk spread across your lips, “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe," she conceded. "But this plan’s gonna work.” Agatha shifted closer, her hands sliding to your hips, her fingers pressing into your skin with a slight possessive touch.

Your gaze fell to where her hands rested and for a moment, there was silence.

Time ticked. She waited.

“Fine. Oh my God- fine–”

Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a crashing hug. Your pout quickly turned into an amused smile, and finally into a fit of giggles when her lips began peppering kisses all over your face.

“Atta girl!” She said with a proud grin, to which you responded with a snort.

You’d be pissed, though, if by the end of the day, you’d be forced to resurrect a bunch of witches. But you kept quiet about that.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #Teen #agatha harkness x reader #Teen x reader #wlw #Kathryn Hahn #Aubrey Plaza #Joe Locke #marvel #witches #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agathario

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icallhimjoey · 1 day ago

Text

Almost, Always

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: it's monday! and fake joe's here for you! he's... not exactly the best, for which i apologise, but, he's all for you, so please, enjoy him fictionally and respect him privately (too much to ask? i hope not?) ok great talk everyone, love you <33 xo

Wordcount: 6.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Four days of silence.

Four days of not looking each other in the eye. Of no physical touch. Of not saying a single fucking word.

You moved around each other in a shared space until you had the thought that you were probably better off avoiding each other completely for a little while.

Joe was convinced he had every right to wait for an apology before he’d speak to you again. You, however, obviously heavily disagreed.

You had just been honest.

Joe had asked for you to be honest and so, you had been, but apparently, you’d done it wrong.

It started with an evening of not speaking after an outburst. A silent night routine where you completely avoided one another. Acted like the other person wasn’t even there. You’d thought then that you’d speak in the morning. That you’d talk things out after getting some sleep, because maybe that was the problem.

You slept with your backs facing each other and dreamed of better moods in the morning.

But then the next morning, Joe had gotten up and only made one coffee.

One singular cup of coffee.

He drank it at the kitchen table, looked at you all bitterly like a disappointed parent would look at their child who was ruining their potential, and then left the empty cup there for you to grow even more annoyed at. More than you already were.

That one evening of silence had slowly turned into four days.

You bit your tongue, though. Kept quiet, because Joe did too. Stored the annoyance away. Swept it under the rug, and even though this metaphoric rug was starting to look really lumpy, you pretended you could walk over it fine still.

You then also ignored that this is precisely what the fight had been about. About you shutting up about all the little things that annoyed you. All the small things that didn’t feel worth the effort to say anything about in the moment, because you didn’t want to be a nag.

Things built with you.

Being bothersome was your worst nightmare, so you wouldn’t say anything for ages until then suddenly, on a random afternoon, a teeny tiny drop made the bucket overflow and you’d fall apart at something so stupidly insignificant which would take everyone by surprise.

Would take Joe by surprise.

And it made sense that Joe’s first reaction to your fire would be to light his own. You’d snap and shout, so Joe’d snap and shout right back.

“Babe, you never fucking communicate! It’s always– I’m always guessing with you! Just tell me when something upsets you!”

“I am!”

“Yea now you are! But you’re telling me about shit I said three months ago! What do you want me to change about something I did three months ago?!”

“I don’t want you to change anything– my God! You asked me what’s wrong, so I’m telling you what’s wrong!”

It was always the same fight. And usually, you’d end up saying something so stupid to your own ears it would break the tension and make you laugh. It’d be easy to apologise in those moments, because you knew this was on you, and the warmth coming off of Joe as he’d turn soft at your laughter would always sort of fix things.

“Stop being so silly,” he’d say as he’d hug you. As he’d kiss you on the cheek until your embarrassed grimace, aimed fully at yourself, disappeared.

“Got some moaning left in there?” he’d ask, tapping the side of your head with a finger, making you giggle despite yourself. “Want to go shout into the air from the balcony? Since you’re here now, this is the time to get all of it out.”

That was how it usually went.

And he was right; you could definitely communicate better. Express feelings in the moment rather than hold on to all the negative shit for ages.

Easier said than done, but at least you were aware that you had to stop saving things for another day.

This time the fight had been different though. There was no eventual humour slipping through any cracks. No secret smiles hidden from each other until you stopped being able to conceal them. No apologies. Zero kind words. Just… anger. And silence.

Joe was waiting for you to break first. For your wrath to turn into something a little softer that he could mould into something more to his liking.

And you were waiting because Joe was waiting. Simple as that.

It didn’t feel fair that every time you’d share negative feelings, Joe would end up calling you silly.

It didn’t feel fair that Joe never apologised for anything.

It didn’t feel fair that, just because you were quiet for a moment as you collected your thoughts, Joe spat, “Silent treatment? All right.” at you.

Four days.

Four days of Joe making a morning coffee just for himself, actively choosing to ignore, and therefore, hurt you.

Four days of his lone empty coffee cup left on the table, which you then didn’t clean, because why the fuck would you, but the sight of it was eating you alive.

You spent four days witnessing petty, childish behaviour from the man who you started believing you needed some space from. A little breathing room. Just until he’d miss you enough to reach out and say sorry, you know?

You wondered if he was thinking the same.

If the silence was also letting his mind wander into those same dark corners yours was exploring.

But then, Joe broke it.

A glass of wine on that fourth night broke it.

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but… it felt like one. You decided it was an apology.

You were sitting on the sofa, tapping away on your phone, talking to Emily about your stupid boyfriend, and she was a good friend, made fun of him effortlessly which really did a good job of making you feel better.

Then, Joe placed a glass of wine down on the coffee table in front of you.

It didn’t fully register at first.

You saw the glass, but assumed it was Joe’s wine that he poured for just himself, and if you were going to want some, you’d have to go and fetch you own.

Mid-typing out a message to Emily about it, you felt Joe sit down next to you, and when you chanced a quick glance, you saw that he was holding a glass of wine himself as he got comfortable and turned on the TV.

Slowly, your phone lowered into your lap, and you stared at that glass of red wine on the table for a moment.

Without warning, your eyes welled up.

He poured that for you.

In the effort to not let Joe notice how this gesture hit you right in the gut, you held your breath until you were shaking, and then a heaving sob burst out of you.

Shit.

You shattered.

Split right down the middle, and burst into pieces with such vigour, you surprised yourself, but surprised Joe more.

He had expected you to pick up the glass and empty it in the sink, or whatever.

Four days was much longer than he thought you’d let this go on for.

His girlfriend was stubborn – he knew that. But four days? Four days was a really fucking long time. And, apparently, four days was long enough for a simple glass of red supermarket wine to make you cry.

The astonishment rendered Joe useless for a moment.

He just looked at you for a moment as you sat with your phone in your lap, head dropped down, and your face covered by both your hands.

This was really fucking embarrassing.

Your legs felt the want to escape the situation before your mind got the chance to catch up. You were up on your feet and wanted to bolt it to the bedroom when you heard Joe put his glass of wine down.

You hadn’t even taken two steps before you got taken hold of by an arm. Pulled into a chest. Held firmly into place.

Going from four days of moving around each other like you didn’t exist to one another, to the very sudden tightest hug you’d received in ages was a lot.

And then Joe placed a hand on the back of your neck and squeezed you gently, making you fucking bawl.

No one apologised.

No one said a word, actually.

But you took whatever that glass of wine was as enough of an olive branch to let yourself be hugged.

Be shushed quietly.

Be gently kissed and softly touched.

It shouldn’t have counted as an apology, but you’d taken it as one, and Joe had conveniently let you.

Saturday night.

You’re out.

Alone.

You know Emily would have come if you had asked her to, but you hadn’t, because she would’ve likely asked a bunch of questions you didn’t want to answer.

“Where are we going?” “That’s not where we usually go...” “Why are we going there?”

Couldn’t tell her. She’d try her best to talk sense into you. Would try to convince you that this behaviour wasn’t serving anyone in the long term.

And she’d be right.

But you currently don’t really care about the long term.

Short term is where it’s at.

Where all the fun and the excitement lives.

So you’re out. Having drinks at a bar by yourself, and you do your very best fending off any trickle of doubt at your life choices until you see him walk in.

Jackpot.

You fucking knew it.

You pretend you haven’t seen him at all, of course. Continue your chat with the girl behind the bar, until suddenly–

“You know you’ve got the worst timing?”

Joe sneaks up on you.

His voice is low in your ear, and you do your very best to sound as surprised as you possibly can when you gasp a small breath, all innocent. You turn your head to see him over your shoulder, both his hands on your sides as he looks down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You say it like you truly didn’t expect to run into him.

Oscar worthy.

Well. It would have been, had you not both been very aware that you’re exactly where you are for this exact reason. Wearing what you are wearing, drinking what you are drinking. It’s more than a lucky guess that he’d be here tonight.

Joe’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

“I’m here with a whole group.” Joe’s making excuses he already knows aren’t going to stop either one of you.

“Do I know them?”

“No.” Joe answers as he scans your face from the side. God, you look all… glossy.

“Good.” Would’ve been a bit awkward otherwise.

“You better hang around for a bit.” Joe gives you a face, sort of stern, and it’s so comfortable to frown at him. To act all offended. Like it’s not exactly what you want to hear.

“Excuse you, I’m–” you start all aghast, and want to add, I’m seeing someone, which is a lie, but you get cut off by a strong squeeze into your waist from both his hands.

“I’m not joking. Give me… maybe, like, an hour and I’ll come get you.”

You scrunch your nose at him and he gives a small nod, his grin spreading wide, before he turns around and finds the people he came in with.

You’re alone. Single, and having drinks in a bar by yourself, which has every opportunity to feel a little sad, but instead you feel giddy. You predicted you’d run into him, and then you did.

Perfect.

You’re a genius.

After last time, you kind of want Joe to think that you are seeing someone. Just to make you feel like you’ve got the upper hand. Not that it matters. You’ve both made the same wrong choice in similar situations before. But, still. You just don’t want him to win.

Joe joins his friends, and he throws a quick glance back to see you smile into your drink as you take a sip.

Yea. Glossy is the right word, he thinks. He could stare at you all evening.

Fuck.

A whack to his shoulder by one of his friends pulls him into a conversation and momentarily, he shifts into the evening he had planned to have.

He forgets about you for a minute, but never entirely.

It’s like there’s a constant little buzz in the back of his head, and he keeps wanting to look over. See what you’re doing. Who you’re talking to. Who’s talking to you.

Joe’s in trouble.

You do things to him that he can’t entirely comprehend, and that no one before or after you has ever really managed. He doesn’t know what to make of that most of the time, except that the feelings he’s got for you are sort of… big. And scary.

You’re still devastatingly gorgeous to him, he can objectively look at you and think, yea she’s fucking hot, but you also manage to make him laugh. Manage to him feel heard and cared for. Manage to make him forget about all current worries life has on offer for him.

And Joe is generally, just, doomed.

Whatever he had with you had worked for a while and then suddenly it hadn’t anymore. You’d suddenly wanted out, but now… it feels a little like you both want to start over. Like you both want to forget about that chapter of bullshit. Pretend it never happened.

And what’s the problem with that?

Is whatever you are doing now a problem? If it works?

If it doesn’t hurt people, Joe thinks there’s no issue.

But he knows it actually does hurt people. It’s another truth he ignores. Tries to, at least.

There’s no denying the gravitation pulling the two of you closer and closer together until eventually you end up a tangled mess. Like a pair of forgotten earphones left in a coat pocket, too annoying to untie, so instead someone will pull at both ends until the earpieces reach both ears, leaving the wire tangled up even tighter as it sits under their chin.

Even though Joe appreciates the poetic beauty he can find in all of that, he knows he’s got to fucking stop hurting people all the time.

He can’t help his feelings.

But he can help how he treats others.

If he is going to choose to let the general ache of a bad week be soothed by the balm of your presence, he can at least have the decency to not let others presume they’re dating him. Because generally, that’s always been his problem. Joe’s vague and avoidant and all about surface level fun – he never defines anything if he can help it, and he lets others think what they please.

It’s easier that way.

For him, at least.

It’s both a shame and a godsend that this is a part of him that you know through and through. That you see. He doesn’t have to try to hide it, because he knows that it’s of no use with you.

And apparently, it’s fine, because here you fucking are, aren’t you?

He remembers when he thought you were just the same, and remembers how he felt so lucky at first.

A perfect match.

He’d learnt over time, you’re actually very much not the same. But! You had at least some of the same tendencies, and you showing up in this particular bar tonight was enough proof of it.

Joe’s in his group of friends, and they’re all chatting and laughing, and this was meant to be a fun night out, but he might as well just leave right now. His mind is with the girl at the other end of the bar, sat on her own, smiling and chatting to whoever had the courage to strike up a conversation.

Yea.

He’s got more problems.

Forget not wanting to define anything with anyone.

Joe also has to stop banking his entire future on the idea that you want him too.

There’s… there’s a lot of things to ignore.

It should foreshadow that the path he’s going down isn’t good. Isn’t the right one. But... it’s so fun and exciting, he kind of has to know where it leads.

He sighs loudly, a frustrated grumble originating from sheer defeat, and he gives the glass he’s holding a glance. He’ll finish this, and then he’ll fetch you and leave.

About fifteen minutes later, he’s got you under his arm and is leading you outside. Asks, “Yours or mine?” because there’s no need to act coy with you.

You answer, “Yours.” a little too quickly for Joe not to raise an eyebrow at.

You’re walking together, and you’re still fixing your scarf, but your steps are too determined. Too rushed for your quick answer not to hide at least some secrets.

“What, you got anything to hide from me?”

“No–”

“Let’s go over to yours. It’s closer.” he challenges without the intent to actually do so, footsteps still carrying him in the direction of his own flat.

“No, I–”

“Or has Jasper left all of his things strewn about?” Joe couldn’t finish the question before having to twist his mouth in a bid to hide his smile.

You stop walking for just a second, and give him a dead pan stare that transitions into an eye-roll before you flatly say, “All right, good night.” and pretend to turn around to leave.

It makes Joe throw his head back in a laugh, both his arms grabbing at you and pulling you close.

“Mine, okay. Mine.”

And you fall back into step, smiling into your scarf at how you just made Joe’s laugh echo down the street.

Feels good to make Joe laugh.

It’s quiet for a bit, just a short few seconds. Just footsteps on the ground amongst the noises of the city. Somehow, it feels like it drags on, like every second lasts a whole minute, and you can’t help filling it with awkward chat. “No,” you start. “Jasper’s put all of his things where they’re supposed to go.” And you give Joe a pointed look after.

He bites immediately.

“Wha– I always put my things where they’re supposed to go!”

He doesn’t.

You know he doesn’t.

He knows you know he doesn’t.

It’s impossible to forget all of the little things that made the rug look all lumpy. You’d always keep things under there for ages, which gave you a lot of time to quietly lift up corners to examine all the mess.

So you snort, and he stutters through beginnings of words he never finishes to find excuses that don’t exist until you’re both laughing.

Then he says, “Here. I’ll put this thing where it’s meant to go.” And you think it’s just about the cheesiest innuendo ever, but then he takes your wrist in his hand and lets his fingers intertwine with yours.

You look up at him with a pursed smile, but Joe’s already looking right ahead, making sure you don’t bump into anything.

You’re lucky it’s cold enough to blame the flush of your cheeks on the cold wind.

You hold hands all the way to Joe’s flat.

It’s nice.

You also talk about Jasper all the way to Joe’s flat.

That’s less nice.

Joe asks what else Jasper does that he allegedly doesn’t. If he lets you keep your heating on. If he lets you sleep closest to the door. Every question comes out with disdain, like this loser doesn’t know what he’s fucking doing.

And you answer every question with lies. Paint a very pretty picture.

Jasper doesn’t even fucking exist, but you like that Joe thinks you’re taken. That you’re off the market, and that he shouldn’t be taking you home, but still chooses to. You think maybe he wouldn’t have held your hand if he thought you weren’t already spoken for.

However, it doesn’t feel so nice to remember all the things that ruined your relationship with Joe. He just keeps listing a bunch of shit you’d once yelled at him for, and you don’t think he fully understands how it’s bringing the mood down.

Presumably, you’re meant to think it’s funny, so you smile, but all of it sits wrong in your gut. It leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth that uncomfortably sticks to your tongue and sours your mood a little.

The short-term fun with Joe is meant to be just that. Fun. You don’t want to be reminded of all the reasons why you shouldn’t be going home with him right now. If you did, you’d have taken Emily with you tonight.

You refrain from saying anything, though.

You’re still you, after all.

You just smile and tell Joe that Jasper actually does do all the things that Joe never did, and hope it sparks enough jealousy in him to maybe do something about it.

“Hmm,” Joe says when you turn the corner and his building comes into view. “Jasper sounds... he sounds kind of perfect, doesn’t he?”

He does.

You’ve created the image of a perfect boyfriend. One who you know you’d never actually gel with; you need someone who pushes back a little.

Problem is... Joe knows that too.

Just when the thought crosses your mind that maybe Joe knows you’re making everything up, that you’ve been lying this whole time you’ve been holding hands, Joe confirms your fears.

“Almost too um... almost too good to be true, wouldn’t you say?” he narrows his eyes in suspicion, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Yea, well. Some people are.” you shrug, but know Joe is reading your unsteady body language just fine.

“Sure, sure. Yea. I guess so.” Joe says, and then falls silent.

He knows you’re lying.

Well, fuck.

And then, he lets the silence linger.

Joe doesn’t say anything as he fishes his keys from a pocket and lets you into his building. Doesn’t say anything as he pushes the lift button. Just gives you a little smile, like he’s trying to hold in a chuckle, thinking secret thoughts.

It gets in your hair.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s... no, it’s nothing.”

Joe lets his small smile turn into a fat smirk and it’s starting to get on your nerves. The lift doors open, and you assertively step inside before Joe can give you a small ladies-first gesture.

Joe watches you press the button to his floor before he shakes his head a little and follows you in.

“What?” you ask again, and to that, Joe finally lets a barking laugh out.

“What?” he mimics, feeding off of the brooding bit of bite he can sense growing underneath your skin.

“If you’re trying to piss me off, it’s fucking working.”

“I’m not trying to do anything.” Joe patronises, joy very much still visible in the lines on his cheeks.

He knows you’re single.

He knows there’s no Jasper.

“Hmm.” It’s your turn to narrow eyes at him. “Yea, no. Of course not. You don’t have to try to piss me off, you’re right. You’ve got the skills to auto-pilot your way–”

In a lightning-speed quick move, Joe shuts you up by suddenly getting close enough for you to stumble back against the mirrored panel or the lift. He’s got two hands touching your sides over your coat, firm enough for you to feel them through the thick layers of fabric.

It startles you into silence, and makes you audibly swallow.

You can see from up close how Joe smugly pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes roving over you slowly, and, fuck.

Yea.

Yea. Okay.

It shifts.

All of it is shifting.

The annoyance and slight anger transfers into something else.

Into something a little more raunchy.

You feel a sudden rush down your body from the way Joe’s eyes blaze with intention.

Joe knows you. Bit rash of you to forget.

Just before the lift stills and the doors open behind him, Joe lets his body sway forward a bit to press himself up against you entirely. It makes your breath hitch and stutter. Makes you want to grab hold of the large collar of his coat to pull him down enough so you can kiss him.

But then, in a blink of an eye, he’s gone. Pushes himself off, quickly moves away, walks out of the lift, and leaves you there to catch your breath for a second.

Fucking hell.

Oh, tonight is going to be interesting.

You don’t leave the lift until the doors start closing and you have to quickly launch yourself across to get an arm in front of the sensor. Down the hall you see him disappear into his flat, leaving his door open, and you take rushing steps to follow him inside.

You don’t want to waste any more time.

You want to undress right there on his doormat, despite the bitterly cold temperature you’ve just stepped into.

You want find Joe, who you can hear is already opening and closing cupboards in his kitchen, and just... you don’t know. Jump him, you guess.

That lift moment has made you want to devour him. Made you want to be devoured by him.

But then you close his door and step into his kitchen, and find him at the counter. He’s got his back turned, and is super calmly pouring two glasses of wine.

No urgency.

Zero haste.

He knows what he’s just done to you. Knows the effect that likely must have had. He’s toying with you. Fucking playing.

You drop your coat where you’re standing, right onto the floor. Toe your shoes off to make a pile. You cross your arms and grab hold of the bottom of your top, ready to pull that over your head next, but you pause to watch Joe’s shoulders move under his shirt as he carefully twists and pushes the cork back onto the bottle to seal it.

When he turns around, he leans against the counter, one hand on the edge of it, and in the other he’s holding a nice fat glass of red.

Glass.

One glass.

For a moment you just assume that there’s another hiding behind his back, though it doesn’t even fully register.

You make eye-contact as he takes a slow sip of his drink, and then you slowly pull your top off. It reveals a lacy bra you’re convinced Joe likes the look of.

And you’re right.

Joe halts, and openly stares. Mouth in his wine. Hypnotised. Frozen on the spot. Mind slowly turning to mush.

He’s predictable like that.

Men in general are easy like that.

You take a deep breath, inflating your whole chest, and Joe groans at the sight. The glass of wine gets put back down behind him, and you don’t even think he has taken real sip. Then he takes a few steps to pull a chair from his table.

He holds a hand up that means, one second, and pulls at the fabric of his trousers to give himself a bit more space before he sits down. He shifts a little, settles in, and then leans back with his legs spread wide, both hands behind his head, fingers folded and elbows sticking out.

He takes a deep breath before he gives a small nod that says, carry on.

You bite your teeth into your bottom lip as you smile, because Joe is an idiot, and you let your hands find the button to your trousers to take off next.

Then, suddenly, it lands.

There’s one single glass of wine on the counter.

One.

You stop your movements as you look at it and watch the red liquid inside softly swirl from when Joe put it down.

It takes a second for Joe to follow your gaze, and for him to understand what you’re looking at.

He frowns in confusion a little, looks back at you to see that you’re still staring, and then looks back again, and–

“Oh...”

Your expression has gone cold.

And Joe thinks that maybe he gets it. He isn’t entirely sure, but he’s smart enough to know that the show he had just settled in for is probably going to get cancelled if he doesn’t do anything.

“Did you...”

But he’s not sure what to say. Doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. When you start moving, he thinks maybe he doesn’t have to.

It’s crazy how this feels like it used to feel, before.

But, it’s a little different now, because… there’s nothing at stake. There’s no you to protect. No you two as a couple to preserve.

That stupid single glass of red wine.

You fucking hate it.

And you know it’s sick, you know that you’re not meant to enjoy this, but the feeling of rage bubbling up within you honestly feels kind of good. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to experience full-body resentment, and have the immediate source of it right there to take it out on.

You want to feel this dark, sticky displeasure.

Feels fucking good.

Joe’s been reminding you of what a shit boyfriend he was to you, which was meant to be ha-ha funny. Joe thought enough time had passed. You had gone from no-contact to two people that bickered for a bit, and then would end up in bed together. It had happened twice already, and you had all the right ingredients to keep this going. The recipe had proven itself delicious, and Joe thought he could just... serve the same meal again.

It’s self-destructive, you know it is, but… you are hungry for it too.

You take a few slow steps and walk over to look at this glass of wine more closely. Joe watches you from his seat, entirely unsure of what to do, and then, without warning, you slowly push the whole thing into the sink.

Red splashes everywhere, and the glass clatters loudly, but it doesn’t break.

Next, you take the bottle into your hands. Look at the label for a moment. Pretend to read it. It’s still pretty full.

Too bad, you think. Such a waste.

You remove the cork, turn around to look Joe directly in the eye, and then tip that over as well. The whole sink colours blood read as you drain the whole thing, and all Joe can do is watch on from his seat.

He doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t say anything.

Just watches you and feels the energy of the room build.

He’d forgotten how things always build with you.

You’re quite the sight, face reading thunder, standing in his kitchen in your bra, breath deepening with every second that passes.

Joe hates what it does to him inside of his trousers.

When the bottle empties, wine clattering in the sink, Joe sees your face change. Something more… calm seemingly overcomes you. You look... pleased.

“Does that feel justified?” Joe asks, eyes blinking at you.

“Fuck you. Yes it does.”

“Do you have any idea how expensive that was?”

You don’t give a shit how expensive that was, but just because you know Joe does, you want to know.

“Tell me.”

Joe scans your body all the way down and then all the way back up.

“Come here.” Joe holds an arm out and reaches for you.

“Shut up. Tell me.” You’re already making your way over.

“That’s a class A premier grand cru...”

You take Joe’s hand and let him pull you to sit on his lap. To straddle him, thighs spread wide, one leg over each one of his.

“That was a class A premier grand cru.” the words mean nothing to you, you know fuck all about wine, but there’s something glorious about correcting Joe.

“Hmm.” Joe hums as his nose nudges yours, and he lets both hands slide up your thighs until he finds the bits he likes holding most. He uses his grip to pull you in closer and continues, “A blend of merlot, and cabernet franc...” Joe’s French accent is awful. “An award-winning Château Angélus from... from 2016, I think...”

That’s fairly recent, you think. Can’t be that expens–

“Cost me over 500 quid.”

Your eyes darken.

Good.

You wouldn’t pay much more than a tenner for a bottle of the same size.

“Should’ve poured me a glass.”

And it’s only then that the penny drops. That he gets it. You can see it in his eyes. The flush of memories suddenly making it to the forefront of his brain.

The silent treatment.

The coffees he didn’t make you.

The wine he eventually did pour for you.

That one glass of red that temporarily had fixed everything.

Shit.

Joe grimaces. Groans. Squeezes his eyes shut. Feels like an idiot.

“Should’ve poured you a–”

You kiss Joe.

Hard.

Breathe him in, and move in enough for it to almost make the chair tip backwards. You’ve got both your arms around his neck, hips moving over Joe’s lap in a desperate grind, all needy and in search of feeling something.

Fire.

You want to feel the fire.

Momentarily, you think it’s working. That something is catching aflame. You can feel how Joe spreads his legs even wider, bucking his hips upward as he presses himself into you.

Joe is straining in his trousers, and he groans as you figure out the right rhythm to make it feel good with every hip roll, with every back and forth.

You break the kiss to let a moan escape you, head dropping back, and Joe’s mouth finds the skin of your neck to taste. His teeth graze before he kisses as you fiercely move against each other. Louder noises escape you when Joe lets a hand curl around and grab you by the back of your neck.

“Yea? That feel nice?” he pants, and all you can do is bob your head in a barely there nod as you keep moving.

It does feel nice.

Feels really nice.

Not exactly fire, though. You’re both in trousers, fabric rubbing together furiously, dry humping each other like a pair of horny teenagers who haven’t passed third base yet.

So, not fire, but nice none the less.

In contrast, there’s a lot of things Joe’s feeling, and he kind of wants you to know about all of them. Needs to speak them into the air in order to fully process what’s happening inside of his brain.

“Did you know I um… I broke everything off, the next day?” Joe starts, and stops to curse under his breath. “Fuck. Yea, keep going. Shit. Ah... A-after you left, I mean, remember? I had a lot of m-missed calls, so I called her back, and I–”

You shut Joe up with a kiss.

Try to at least.

“We could–” Joe starts again after turning his head and pushing you aside with his nose, both hands spread wide over your thighs as he helps you move over his lap. “Remember, how we really were something?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Try to focus on the feelings inside of your body instead of on the words you don’t want to hear.

“We could be something still.”

“N-no.”

You refuse to acknowledge what Joe’s trying to tell you, but don’t stop your movements. You can’t stop, head dropping back. This all feels too good.

It’s still not fire, though.

There’s no stakes.

You’re both single, and every decision you have made this evening turns out to have been inconsequential.

It’s... it’s almost boring.

But it’s good enough.

You just need a couple more seconds, you can feel it building already.

“We c-couldn’t be somethinhgh...” you choke on your words, unable to finish the sentence.

“Yes,” Joe insists, voice low and breathy, your bodies still moving in tandem. He then uses one hand takes hold of your face by your cheeks, tilting your head down so he can make eye-contact with you for a second.

“Yes we could.” He sounds hopeful as his eyes search yours. “Don’t you get it?”

But your eyes are glassy. They flutter and want to roll back.

Joe knows this look.

Know what this means.

And it’s not like Joe thinks his kind words will really fix anything, but, maybe they will, you know? Maybe. He’s glad he has said them anyway, even though you look like you haven’t even properly heard him.

“You close, baby?”

He switches gears.

“Yea? Come on.” He helps you move with strong arms that press you down a little more, and your arms scramble behind his back in your want to hold onto him tightly.

“There you go.” he coos into your ear, and, it’s not fire, but you come anyway.

Joe should have poured you a glass of wine.

Shouldn’t have brought up bad memories, shouldn’t have tried to be funny about it, and absolutely should have simply gone and poured you a glass.

You pretend that a glass of wine would’ve made a difference tonight.

The difference that you had hoped to find.

That would’ve lit the fire.

Deep down you know that’s not it, but still. The empty bottle is right there, watching you come down from your high, Joe still hard beneath you, and it’s easy to use that as the excuse.

You decide on the spot that Joe’s going to have to deal with what resides inside of his underwear by himself.

You’re done.

Sitting up, you look him in the eye for a short moment and softly but definitively say, “Should’ve poured me a glass.” and press a small kiss to his cheek which Joe gladly accepts.

Because he knows you’re right.

“Should’ve poured you a glass.”

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #joe quinn fanfiction #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #rpf #almost always

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retroaria · 1 day ago

Note

hiii!!!! congrats on 1.5k omg!! could i get the dialogue nsfw no. 4 with chuuya (and maybe dazai if u feel like it) with sub!fem!reader please? tysm!!

₊˚⊹♡ Chuuya Nakahara x sub!fem!reader ₊˚⊹♡

a/n: cliffhanger lol bc i love leaving the smut up to your imagination 😌

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

There was an uncanny stillness in the air surrounding Yokohama tonight. It was thin, breezy, serene - the streets were quiet and clean. “Chuu~ did you have something planned for us tonight?” you leaned against your door as you held it open, your eyes flickered up and down Chuuya’s figure before you. “It’s awfully quiet out…”

A sly smirk spread across his face as he reached out to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in, “Wouldn’t want anyone dying on date night, all operations are at a halt. You’ve got me all night darling.” he cooed at you, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into your sides. “Are you ready to go?”

“You lead the way.” you tilted your head up and spoke into his ear, teasingly. His hand shifted to your lower back, guiding you out the door.

Chuuya didn’t get to spend nights like this with you often. His position in the mafia demanded his full devotion, and you knew this when you decided to entangle yourself in his madness. You meet with him in shadows as he passes through, or you’ll wake up some mornings in his arms, left to wonder how he snuck in the night before. He often would apologize profusely for his shortcomings as a partner, though you both know you couldn’t leave each other no matter how distant you felt.

On occasion, life would slow down, and Chuuya would find a way to arrange a single night where he isn’t needed. He’d call you in the morning, tell you to dress up as nice as you please, and by nightfall, there he was at your doorstep - roses in hand and a smile on his face. These clandestine meetings gave you time in between to yearn and long for each other. It made every touch feel electric, and every teasing word that melted off his tongue pool into your panties.

The night was beautiful as always, Chuuya Nakahara wouldn’t be caught dead doing anything less than extravagant for the woman he loves. A candlelit dinner, a piano playing softly throughout the room, a bottle of his finest liquor, and his hand holding yours across the table as he gazes into your eyes and listens to you speak. You spent the evening getting blissfully lost in each others presence, your temptations aided by the alcohol.

Eventually you found yourselves stumbling slightly through the streets back to your apartment, hand in hand, clingy closely to each other. He recounted a recent mission, pride and righteousness laced in his words. Chuuya was nothing but a punk who made it big in the criminal underground, surely no one in your life would approve of your relationship with him, but that only made it all the more fun. No one could rile you up this much, keep you on your toes and at the edge of your seat - ready to release every inhibition upon his command. As you neared your building, he wrapped his arm snug around your waist and pulled you close, excitement and anticipation bubbling up inside you.

You fumbled with your keys as Chuuya pushed his body up against your backside, his warm breath trailing down your neck as he nibbled playfully on your ear. “Someone’s antsy…” you said just above a whisper as you finally pushed the right key in and opened the door.

“I only have but so much time with you doll, I think we better to make the most of every second…” he said, lacing his fingers with yours as he let your guide him into your apartment. As soon as the door shut he practically yanked you into his arms, his fingertips tilting your chin up to face him, “…that is, if you’ll allow me?” he smirked at you expectantly, his thumb tracing down your jawline before moving to gently rub your cheek.

“Whatever you want…” you muttered out, entranced by his seductive touch and gaze. You aren’t even sure how it happened, he wrapped you up in his cloud of lust, and you came back to as your back fell softly against the bed sheets. Chuuya kneeled on the bed before, sat perfectly between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs to your hips.

He slipped his hands under your shirt, smoothing against the skin of your body underneath as he hummed in delight. You sat up slightly and lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head and toss it to the side, his hands supported your back and he pulled you into a passionate kiss as you worked on undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You both worked your way through each others clothes, you pulled down his boxers and watched his cock perk up against his stomach- his tip slightly leaking in anticipation. Chuuya stopped abruptly once he had you in your bra and panties. He took in the view before using his hands to pray open your legs, squeezing gently at the fat of your thighs. His fingertips grazing down until they met your clothed core, pressing slightly through the fabric of your panties. Your breath hitched and his eyes darted up at you. “Is this where you need me baby?” he said to you softly, playing with the hem of your panties teasingly.

You hummed in approval, shaking your head a bit as your hips gently grinded up further into his touch. He pulled his hand away and placed it firm against your chest, sliding up until his fingers were wrapped loosely around your neck. “Use your words doll, tell me where you need me.”

He’s barely even touched you and he’s already taken your breath away, your hips buck slightly again, “Hmph~ anywhere chuu, please…” you pleaded. His eyes darkened a bit.

“Anywhere I want?” the devilish smile he flashed down at you was painfully hot, you wanted to instinctively shut your legs for some amount of friction as you felt your wetness pooling in your panties.

“Anywhere…touch me anywhere chuu~” your approval was all he needed to finally begin playing with you as he pleased. He pulled your panties down, lifting your legs above his head so he could pluck them off and toss them to the ground. He kept one hand wrapped around you neck as he trailed the other down your thigh, feeling the gentle pulse of your nerves the closer he got to where you needed him most.

Finally, his fingertips made there way down to your heat, pushing through your folds and rubbing against your entrance, collecting your arousal to spread up towards your clit. As he drew slow circles on your bundle of nerves you let your eyes flutter shut in pleasure. You could feel his hand around your neck tighten.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” he said sternly, increasing the pressure of his fingers rubbing against your clit. Your eyes met his and you were immediately pulled into his lusty gaze, your vision locked on him as you whimpered at his touch. He released your neck hesitantly, only to use his other hand to plunge two of his slender fingers into your gushing entrance. You rolled your hips into his hands, egging him on to speed up his thrusts. He curled his digits into your sweet spot and prodded at it roughly, continuing his movements on your clit and nearly pushing you over the edge. “I want you to look at me while you cum all over my hands princess, let me see how good I make you feel.”

Your eyes darted down to watch his hands work your cunt and you could see his cock hanging eagerly over the sheets, his tip red and plump, a subtle white glaze precum dripping down into his shaft. Your mind filled with dirty visions of his cock pumping rope after rope of his hot seed into your weeping cunt. Your body squirmed and tosses under his touch and you looked back up at him, brows furrowed and rolling slightly back. He could feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he sped up all his movements.

Chuuya groaned as he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head. He removed his hand from your clit and brought it back up to wrap around your neck, his other hand continued finger fucking you so rough you could feel yourself tipping over the edge. You stomach fluttered and your hips lifted slightly. You brought your hand up to wrap around his bicep, your nails digging into him as your orgasm washed over you. You moaned out and he watched you fall apart beneath him with his mouth slightly ajar, looking at you like he was ready to devour you whole.

He rode you down from your high, removing his fingers from your hole and rubbing gently through your folds. He leaned down and kissed your neck, trailing his kisses up until he reached your soft lips. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away, quickly replacing his mouth with the fingers you came around moments ago, pushing them past your lips and swirling them around your tongue. “Mmm~ good girl, taste all that cum I fucked out of you…”

He reached his other hand down to slowly pump his throbbing cock, swiping his thumb over his leaking tip with a low groan. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and gripped your hip firmly, he rubbed his cock through your slick folds and moaned, his tip swiping back and forth against your clit. You squirmed beneath him, overstimulated, and he chuckled down at you.

“I’m hardly done with you baby, I know you can take it all for me tonight, isn’t that right?” he said as he lined his tip up with your entrance.

“Y-yes, Chuu~” you cooed at him. He reached one hand up to caress your cheek gently as he looked down at you with a mixture of lust and adoration.

“Good girl, now let me make you feel good princess…”

#chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya nakahara headcanons #chuuya headcanons #chuuya smut #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs chuuya #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #chuuya nakahara x you #⟡ ⠀ after hours training

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 3 days ago

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Hiiii

can you do 80s jason fucking you for the first time and he cums to quickly but he gets hard again in a second and he fucks like a god ?

💋

A/n: I'm guessing this isn't quite what you were talking about but I was craving soft Jason 🥹

Warnings: Smut, riding, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You'd been taking it slow with Jason for multiple reasons, he was busy with bands, he'd never been with anyone like that before, also he just wanted it to be perfect for you.

It was your birthday and Jason went all out. He took you on a walk around a park to a picnic he'd set up by a creek under a willow tree, it was quiet and candle lit and he made your favourite meal.

Then, he brought you back to his place. There was a trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom.

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. "Is this a good end to the night?" He asked, his voice soft as he waited for your approval. "We can just go to sleep if you want, I was just thinking... I don't know." He mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"No, no, it's perfect." You said, turning to face him. "You did great." You smiled, stretching to kiss him.

"Well then, I guess we should get going." He said awkwardly. You giggled at his nervousness and took his hand in yours, leading him to the bedroom.

You crawled onto the bed, Jason hovering over you with your lips connected. You helped him get your clothes off before he sat back to take care of his own clothes, all while you shamelessly admired him.

Jason was down to his boxers and he paused, looking you up and down. "Where... do I start?" He asked, worried he might make a mistake.

You chewed your cheek as you thought about it but Jason was already moving down the bed and positioning his head between your thighs.

His tongue was on you in a instant, lapping up your juices, dipping into your cunt and bumping his nose on your clit. Your hands were in his hair, tugging on it and pulling him closer. You’d never fucked before but he’d definitely gone down on you a few times, although he was nervous you’d also blown him on occasion.

It’s not that either of you were virgins, neither of you were exactly experienced but you weren’t virgins. Jason just wanted to it to be perfect.

Of course, that meant he had to help you cum before he could cum. Plus he just loved making you feel good so starting by eating you out was perfect in his mind.

Your back was arching off the mattress already as his calloused fingers prodded that spongey spot, drawing a gasp from you along with your first high of the night.

He let you come down from it, running the pads of his fingers up and down your sides to make you twitch. He was gentle and sweet but he wanted to get a reaction from you whenever he could, in whatever way he could.

You smiled up at him, reaching for him and wrapping your arms around his neck when he moved over you. “Are you ready, love?” He asked, kissing up your jaw and nibbling your earlobe.

You nodded eagerly, giving him a gentle squeeze, feeling your walls fluttering as he pushed himself through your folds, gathering your juices to use as lube before pushing into you. You could tell that much was already a lot for him and he refused to move, partially to let you adjust.

He groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck, hips twitching as he came inside you, mumbling apology after apology while you held him and assured him it was fine.

When he was ready he sat up and kissed you before reaching to the nightstand and grabbing the bottle of water that was there. It was nice to just feel him inside you but you were more than ready for more, so much more, and he was willing to deliver.

"I'm sorry, love, you just felt so good." He said, chuckling softly, a bit out of embarrassment. Maybe a lot out of embarrassment. "I'll do better, I promise." He kissed your lips a last time as you smiled up at him.

"Whatever you give me I'll take." You said, pulling him back for another kiss, this one didn't break so soon and Jason started rolling his hips into yours.

He kept a slower pace, taking into account the sounds you made and when you made one he especially liked he angled himself to keep hitting that spot. His lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, leaving your mouth open for moans to slip out.

He ran a hand up and down your side before finally landing on your clit, rubbing it with his thumb to match his thrusts. Gradually he got faster, always keeping in mind how you felt and muttering praise in your ear. "You're doing so good for me, such sweet sounds." He said, kissing just under your ear.

You felt your second high creeping up on you, slowly washing over you and lasting what felt like an eternity. By the time you were coming down from it Jason was laying beside you, holding you to his side and littering your face in kisses.

Looking down you could see he was still hard and just ignoring it, despite how red he was.

You kissed his shoulder as you looked up to meet his gaze. He was smiling down at you, happy he got to make you feel good. It didn't matter all too much how much pleasure he was deriving from it, he could help himself to that later, his attention was on you.

Your attention was on him.

You moved to straddle him, grinding down on his length and hearing a soft grunt from him. "What're you doing, sweetheart?" He asked, a hand moving down to your hip. He didn't hold you still, didn't guide you, he just wanted to touch you, feel you under the pads of his fingers.

"I want to feel that again." You said, adjusting and sinking down on him, face scrunching as your body was still reeling from the earlier pleasure.

Jason laughed at that, his cute little giggle sending butterflies to your belly as you started moving on his length. He put his thumb back to your clit, rubbing it in those sweet, sweet circles.

Not wanting to make you do all the work he kept moving his hips, thrusting up into you, still watching for those pretty moans of yours. If you tried to go faster he slowed you down, you were both sensitive and he knew it, if you just let that high find you it felt better, washing over you and making you see white.

It hit you again, coming up slowly until Jason was helping you to lay down on him, only this time he didn't pull out. Instead he went faster, hips losing all sense of rhythm. Being sensitive it made you whine right into his ear, only adding fuel to his fire, your body bouncing on his until he was painting your walls with his cum, unintentionally bringing you over the edge a fourth time.

Even after he didn't pull out, keeping you on top of him and holding you tight as you both caught your breath.

"Thank you." He whispered, kissing your cheek. "Felt so good." You only nodded in respond, kissing his neck and drifting off to sleep on top of him, not minding the sticky sensation between you and only craving his warmth.

#metallica rp #metallica fanfiction #80s metal #metallica #metal #metallica smut #metallica imagines #metallica x reader #jason newsted #jason newsted x you #jason newsted fluff #jason newsted x reader #jason newsted smut

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paulyenvol6 · 3 days ago

Text

Called to the Devil (Chapter 4)

Contains: mentions of smut, flirting, sexual tension

Wordcount: ~2.24k

Masterlist of this story

A good time they indeed had.

Arika and Elayne laughed together and drank and she liked the hand's daughter more and more. She still widened her eyes at her lose tongue at times but it seemed as though Arika was able to relax the more time she spent with Elayne.

Still, her attention was drawn to Daemon many times because he just looked too handsome. Tonight he wore a black jacket with a high collar and intricate silver clasps running down the front. Elayne had to force herself not to look at him for too long and just hoped that Arika didn't notice her interest in the king's brother.

A little later Elayne felt the wish to dance so the next person who asked her she didn't refuse. There had been countless suiters who wanted to spend time with the young Baratheon girl because she was from a noble house and of a marriagable age. But this far she had apologized to each lord because she rather had wanted to spend her time with Arika but now, as young Hectar Lefford had approached, Elayne agreed.

It wasn't even about Lord Hectar, she just loved dancing and got lost in the soft tones as she rocked her head in rhythm to the music. Not long after Elayne had enough though because Lord Hectar only showered her with compliments about her beauty and she grew tired of it. So she excused herself and flitted off the dance floor to search for Arika.

But to her surprise she wasn't where she had left her behind and Elayne's eyes wandered over the feast. She frowned and then decided to search the garden. Perhaps she had desired a moment away from the loud noises and craved some fresh air.

So she left the celebrations and made her way through the gate and then out among the bright stars. But Elayne couldn't find her friend here either. She was just about to turn around when she heard a noise next to her. She turned around and twitched in surprise when she saw Daemon in front of her. He seeminly hadn't expected to see her here as well because he lifted his eyebrows.

"You.", he just scoffed and Elayne squeezed her eyes.

"Have you seen my friend?", she asked because she didn't come up with a better reply.

"Your friend?"

"Arika. The hand's daughter."

Daemon chuckled. "So you found yourself a little pet already."

Elayne hummed angrily. "She's not my pet, she's my friend. Have you seen her?" The prince thoughtfully put his finger to his mouth.

"I think your little puppy has overestimated herself a little. I saw her father dragging her out of the hall and she didn't look like she was able to stand on her two feet by herself."

Elayne growled and dropped her gaze.

"You put on quite a show back there, didn't you?", Daemon suddenly spoke quietly and she looked up to him at once.

"What do you mean?"

The prince smirked crookedly. "On the dancefloor. Your hair thrown back, eyes closed."

Elayne bit her lip and raised her chin. "Did you like what you saw?"

"Not one bit.", he said, emphasizing every word and her face got cold which made Daemon chuckle. But still she glanced up to him and the desire in her eyes was clearly visible to the prince.

"I liked what I saw.", Elayne breathed and pleadingly looked up to him.

She closed the gap between them until she could feel his chest against her but Daemon continued to look at her smugly.

"I bet I can make you change your mind.", the girl whispered. "I know I can."

"Mhmm, you think so.", Daemon hummed and Elayne's eyes brightened up.

"Yes. Yes, I can. I know how to do it, Daemon."

He chuckled in response and watched the air entering and leaving her mouth rapidly.

"Get on your knees then.", he hissed and she smiled widely.

Elayne almost fell to her knees and stared up to him expectantly and her eyes were big with anticipation. She wanted to open his pants but Daemon softly slapped the back of her hands and started to unlace them himself.

"Close your eyes.", he whispered darkly in the meantime and she obeyed.

She waited. Waited for him to say that she should open them again. Or to feel his tip entering her mouth but none of it happened. And then Elayne just had to open her eyes because she didn't know why he kept her waiting for so long but as soon as her eyes sprang open she felt confused. He was gone. Had it merely been a dream? No, that wasn't possible.

Now anger and patheticness filled her senses. How could he do this? Leaving her here alone kneeling in the garden. Quickly she stood up and looked around to see if someone was there but luckily she was alone. 'What an arsehole.', Elayne thought and grinded her teeth. She felt disgraceful right now and wished all of this hadn't happened.

Why did she always embarrass herself in front of him like that? Dropping to her knees and then not even noticing that he had left her. He probably had laughed to himself afterwards, seeing her on the stoney ground waiting for him to shove his cock inside of her mouth. Elanye squinted her eyes and tried to keep her head as high as possible as she walked back into the keep.

She didn't see Daemon for the rest of the night and wondered if he had gone to his chambers. And yet she was glad about his absence because being confronted with him right now would have been too shameful even for the confident girl.

Elayne was happy when she found herself in the safety of her chambers and exhaled loudly. That had been a rather eventful night and she had grown tired. And that's why she sleep overcame her as soon as her head hit the pillow and even her chaotic and relentless thoughts about the rogue prince didn't stand a chance against the sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Elayne also didn't see Daemon during her quick breakfast the next day. It almost seemed like the floor had swallowed him and she thoughtfully nibbled at the apple in her hand.

The other members of her family noticed that she acted differently to when she had just arrived at the keep and didn't really know how to deal with it. On one hand they cared about the girl and were worried that something was bothering her but on the other hand they were relieved that Elayne was finally a little more calm and well-behaved at last.

So no one dared asking her about her pensive mood and everyone just ate their breakfast while glancing at Elayne every now and then. She didn't notice any of these gazes though and fully ignored the people around her. After she was done with her breakfast Elayne left the room to fulfil her obligations for the day.

It was a Wednesday which meant that she got to spend her morning as she wished so Elayne decided to walk down to the beach where she threw little rocks into the ocean while singing songs of her childhood. She knew that her companions in court didn't wish for her to leave the safety of the keep, but she didn't care. Sometimes she just had to see something else than the walls and corridors that always looked the same. She came here to smell the salty air and hear the peaceful sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

But soon Elayne had to make her way back to the red keep because in the afternoon she had to attend her lessons with her septa which was why she found herself in the library only a few minutes late.

"That's not a fine behaviour for a lady.", Ysa commented it with lifted eyebrows and Elayne smiled apologetic.

"Well… I'm here to become a lady, right…?", she tried and the septa rolled her eyes but looked a little amused.

The next hours turned out to be both exhausting and boring and Elayne tried not to yawn too often and especially not do it open-mouthed. Ysa taught her about history, mathematics and biology and soon her head was throbbing. She really did try, to be honest. Not because she was eager to learn about these things but because she liked her septa. She had been one of the nicest persons and Elayne didn't feel the desire to make this woman's life hell.

But still, in the end she couldn't hide her annoyance anymore and was leaning back in her chair when Ysa announced that the lesson was finished. She jumped up at these words and just wanted to turn around and leave this horrible place when her septa made her stop.

"Be so kind, child and bring this book to Prince Daemon. He wished to borrow it last week but I wasn't done with the sorting so I promised to have it brought to him next week."

Elayne frowned. "Fine.", she mumbled and intended to take the book but Ysa held on to it.

"Elayne.", she said demanding and of course she understood what she had done wrong. She swiftly straightened up and cleared her throat.

"Of course, septa Ysa."

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm but luckily her septa didn't notice it so she smiled contendly and let her take the book. "Thank you, child."

Elayne couldn't stop herself from walking extra loud as she approached the prince's chambers. Of course did she have to bring this to Daemon from all people. As if she was his servant. She didn't even know whether she wished to find him in his chambers because on one hand she feared the humiliation and didn't yearn for the smug look on his face but on the other hand… Elayne merely craved him and his presence. Her lust for him hadn't vanished after last night though part of her wished that it had.

But when she opened the door and peeked into the room nobody was there. So Elayne quietly hasted into the prince's chambers and dropped the heavy book on the table in the middle of the room. She exhaled, rested her hands on her hips and then looked around one last time before she attempted to leave but she suddenly heard steps and then a voice cut through the air.

"What are you doing in here again?"

Elayne swiftly spinned around only to stare into Daemon's flashing eyes. He examined her with amusement, clearly thinking that she had come here to try and seduce him once more.

"Septa Ysa told me to bring this book into your chambers.", she explained while pointing to the table. But the prince didn't believe her and squinted his eyes.

"The septa told you… Since when do you do what you're told?"

Elayne rolled her eyes and Daemon sensed her sulkiness. She avoided his gaze and also didn't answer him so he took a step towards her. The girl immediately let her eyes wander over his face in order to figure out whether he was mocking her or flirting with her.

"You arsehole.", she spitted and Daemon smirked as a reply. "You left me alone in the gardens."

The prince sighed and watched her pitiful. "I didn't expect you to be the kind of person to feel humiliated. You know… just generally."

Elayne clearly wasn't satisfied with his answer and grinded her teeth.

"Fuck you. I wanted to do you a favor."

Now Daemon laughed out, it was a quiet and deep sound. "You wanted to do me a favor? I think it was you who has been begging for me to fuck your mouth ever since you arrived here. I could walk down into the city and within 5 minutes I would have a dozen willing whores at my mercy. The only difference is that you'd do it for free."

Elayne's eyes were glistening with anger but to her shame she could also feel this pulsating heat between her legs. But she just ignored it, Daemon couldn't notice it anyways. She was looking for an answer but felt too dizzy to come up with something and the prince laughed about her.

"Oh sweet girl. I think you're overestimating yourself a little."

Elayne's cheeks turned red as her nostrils flustered and she took yet another step forwards. She was now close with her face to his neck and Daemon turned his head to look down at her.

"You're an arrogant ignorant idiot.", she hissed. "No wonder your wife has fled your company."

"Careful, little one. Don't get too comfortable with your words.", he purred and let his thumb run over her jaw. She slightly smiled and bit her lips.

"I'm not gonna let you command me what to say. You don't have any power or saying over me."

Her voice was merely a whisper and if her words had made him angry, Daemon didn't show any sign of it. He rather looked amused and didn't pull away when the girl got even closer with her face.

"Oh I think I do have a certain power over you. I think I could make you drop to your knees know if I wanted you to.", he whispered and Elayne felt her breathing fastening.

"I think not.", she answered. "I think you had your chance."

Daemon chuckled at that and playfully nibbled at his lower lip. "Mhm... What a shame I missed it."

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turtle-steverogers · 10 hours ago

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i rlly like ur posts abt how steves rough time with his dad as a little kid affects him later in life. i was wondering do u think the other avengers notice? and if they do what do you think they think/do about it?

also tbh i rlly like ur posts in general lol. i hope you have a good day!

I think the other Avengers notice after some time, considering most of them have similar experiences. I imagine it's sort of an unspoken thing, but it's almost... more notable on Steve, because he's so goddamn young and because when he wakes up from the ice, he's so goddamn stretched thin, that the reserves he usually has to shove all those old habits into a box are low. He's jumpy, the others notice. A raised voice-- especially male-- makes him flinch before he smooths out his face. Making requests is hard for him, and mistakes-- even small ones-- are met with scrambling apologies and frantic attempts to fix the problems.

No one says anything, because they know what it's like, and they don't want him to feel cornered. But there's a hard mission, and he and Natasha are alone in a motel room, and Steve is so clearly low. Kids had been involved. And Natasha had seen the way Steve had shut down to see the marks and bruises on the little boy and girl they'd gotten out of a trafficking situation, and she understood. Albeit for different reasons, but at the core, the pain was the same. They'd both just been kids when they were hurt. Young and lost and wondering what they'd done to deserve the grown ups around them squashing them down and making them feel no better than the dirt.

He doesn't say anything, so she doesn't either. But that night, she can't sleep, and neither can he, and when she hears him shift, roll over. Curl onto his side as the silent tears start, she can't stand it anymore.

Her bed creaks as she slides out, ignoring the rough crunch of the carpet as she pads over to Steve's bed and climbs in behind him.

She crawls onto the bed behind him, stretching out. "Can I hold you?" she whispers. Steve shrugs. He doesn't care. He doesn't understand why she would want to be the big spoon to his hulking frame, but if she wants to, he won't stop her. He's too tired to. He feels her wiggle close and slides an arm over his chest, hugging him flush against her. Her palm rests over his heart and she rubs, soothing.

It eases some of the weight. Some of the ache. He breathes, shaky. She kisses the back of his neck. It's quiet for a long time.

Natasha's voice is soft and private when she speaks. "It hurts, what they did to us, doesn't it?"

Steve freezes, listening. Natasha holds on. He doesn't move her.

"Why would anyone treat children that way? Hurt them that way?"

Steve clenched his jaw, resignation in his gut. "How could you tell?"

Natasha sighs. "I put it together, more or less."

Steve nods and doesn't say anything. It's quiet here, outside the city. The world dark and lacking that telltale bustle. Steve hates it.

"It's alright that you're hurting still," Natasha continues, and Steve wants to beg her to stop, but he's too curious, too desperate for someone to see him that he doesn't. "It's okay that you're still scared. You're safe, darling... you don't have to believe that yet."

He starts to tremble.

"Shh, baby, hey," she soothes and her voice is easy to stomach. Easy to understand. "Breathe for me."

He sucks in a deep breath.

"Did they hit you in the Red Room?" he asks.

"Sometimes," Natasha says. "It was calculated, though. Discipline."

Discipline. Steve doesn't think his father meant for his hits to be discipline. They were just... correction. To get him to shut up. Or maybe so he could get his anger out.

"Breathe," Natasha reminds again. Steve takes another measured breath. "You don't have to tell me anything. But you can. I won't get it all, but I might understand."

Steve considers that. "How old were you? When it started?"

"I don't remember," Natasha said. "Very young. Four, maybe? You?"

"I don't remember either," Steve whispers, and he's furious. Suddenly, he wants to set the world on fire. For the little girl who just wanted a chance to see the sunshine, and for the little boy who just wanted to play. "Maybe the same."

They fall back into silence. Steve can feel his teeth chattering. Natasha starts humming a song, simple and soothing under her breath. He knows he doesn't have to say anything else; she understands. He lets his eyes fall shut again.

#steve rogers #natasha romanoff #mikey answers #mikey screams into the void #tw abuse #tw child abuse

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sokuly419 · 1 day ago

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I have so many thoughts and feelings about act 1 of Arcane season 2. I don’t think I could even put them into coherent sentences right now. A few things that I can are:

— I’ve said this on a couple reblogs but I can’t shake the thoughts about it. When Cait finally lets herself break in front of Vi, I noticed Vi almost hesitate. It looks like she takes a small step back before leaning forward to catch Cait. Once she does, she doesn’t seem to hug back right away, hands closed into fists. Even when she does, her hands are still closed. When Cait slides her arms down Vi’s back is when Vi finally opens her hands. I have a feeling it means something (aside from the dropping of her guard) and we might get a parallel to it.

— Speaking of Vi dropping her guard, she does it a lot around Cait in act 1. After their kiss, the gauntlets come off. Before the uh… super heartbreaking breakup, the gauntlets come off. She completely lowered her guard before talking to Cait (who was still armed) which almost makes it worse.

— Vi already drinking a lot.

— Completely unrelated to the show itself… Maddie’s voice actress is the same one who voices the companion Cait in Fallout 4. Kinda found that funny but also a touch irritated with myself for not noticing seeing as Cait is my favorite companion (outside of Dogmeat, of course). Like I should have noticed from the lines “I have to ask…” and “… a heart like yours.” Like… she says it damn near the exact same way in the game. So that makes 2 people in Arcane related to Fallout in some way. Ella Purnell (Jinx) being the other. She plays Lucy in the show. Just a neat little bit of trivia for the Fallout fans.

— Cait, darling, I love you but you’re making it awfully hard to keep defending you. Knock it off and go get your girl back. You better have a damn good apology.

— Jinx was so unbothered for most of act 1 and I am so here for it. Especially with Sevika’s new arm.

— I see a lot of people going on about Maddie. Her vibe is all off to me. Not related to any of the leaks either (sigh). Just… nah. I dunno what it is.

— Can we also talk about the blue guy on the strike team? Come on. He’s cool and doesn’t even say a word. I want to know more about him. He has a good vibe about him… for now at least.

— Cait’s cape is cool looking.

— Heimerdinger was so unbothered. Absolutely love it. Funny lil guy.

— Viktor is Jesus?? Alrighty then.

— Mel got kidnapped?

— Ambessa needs to kindly fuck off and leave Cait alone.

—Jayce needs to not touch things sometimes. I swear. Had to go fuck around with magic at the worst time while our girls were in the middle of a fucking battle.

There’s so much more bouncing around my head but can’t quite put into words yet. I’m sure I’ll get there and have even more to say once act 2 destroys us further. Until then, let’s just focus on that kiss and not what happened after…

#arcane #arcane season 2 #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #caitvi #arcane s2 #jinx arcane

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southtopaz · 20 hours ago

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PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts, slowburn.

Word count: +6,5k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

Iris winced, hissing softly as the antiseptic stung against her busted lip. Mindy was gentle as she dabbed the cotton against the wound, her brow furrowed in concern.

"This fucking hurts," Iris muttered, unable to mask the discomfort.

"I know it does," Mindy replied, her voice soothing yet firm. "But look at the bright side: that guy probably has a broken nose because of you."

Iris couldn't help but let out a small, reluctant laugh. "That made me feel strangely better."

"As proud as I am of you for punching that asshole, maybe next time you could avoid the whole bleeding thing."

"He deserved it,"

"Totally, but you've got to stop acting like a rabid dog. You can't fight everyone that annoys you" Mindy said, setting the used cotton aside and crossing her arms.

"Yes, I can,"

"Jesus, Iris," Mindy replied, exasperated. "We really need to talk about your anger issues."

After a moment of silence, Iris finally broke it, her voice filled with worry. "Do you think Tara is pissed at me?"

"Oh, definitely," Mindy replied, her tone teasing. "Are you going to talk to her?"

"I'm not apologizing for punching him," Iris declared, crossing her arms.

"You definitely shouldn't," Mindy said, nodding vigorously. "That bitch deserved it! But maybe you two could talk about what happened before?".

"Before?" Iris's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah! I'm pretty sure she's more upset that you left her dancing alone than about you fighting that guy," Mindy explained, a smirk creeping onto her face. "Knowing Tara, she probably thought it was hot,".

"What?" Iris exclaimed, her mouth agape.

"Not you acting surprised". Mindy snorted. "Are you having a stroke right now, Ris?"

"I'm just... confused," Iris admitted, shaking her head as if that might clear her thoughts.

"Want me to clarify the situation?" Mindy offered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I'm talking about when you two were dancing, definitely not thinking about sleeping with each other!"

"What? We weren't looking at each other like we wanted to do that. Don't be stupid!" Iris shot back, but she couldn't help the flush creeping up her cheeks.

"Then stop eye fucking each other for one second."

"What the fuck? That's ridiculous. We don't do that."

"So you never thought about it?" Mindy pressed, her eyebrows raised in challenge.

"No," Iris replied defiantly, but her tone wavered slightly.

"Oh, come on! You fucking liar, Fifteen-year-old you has a lot of things to say right now,".

"Shut up, Mindy, you're really pissing me off," Iris snapped, crossing her arms like a petulant child.

"Can't handle the truth?" Mindy teased, winking.

"We are friends," Iris insisted, her voice firm.

"Are you though?" Mindy countered, leaning closer. "I'm your friend, and you definitely don't look at me like that. Thank God, by the way!" She rolled her eyes dramatically.

Iris opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Sam in the doorway. She paused, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion as she took in the scene: Iris with a look of disbelief and Mindy with her signature smug smile.

"Mmm, what is going on here?" Sam asked, her head tilting slightly as she crossed her arms.

"I was just telling Iris how she should talk to your sister so they can stop eye fucking each other," Mindy declared, her tone cheeky.

"WHAT THE FUCK"

Mindy just laughed and winked at them as she left the room, her job clearly done.

A moment of awkward silence settled between Iris and Sam before Sam finally spoke up, breaking the tension. "So..."

"Don't listen to Mindy," Iris quickly interjected, trying to wave away the earlier conversation. "She's on crack"

Sam chuckled softly, stepping closer to her friend. "I just wanted to thank you for today. Seriously, what you did for Tara..."

"It's nothing," Iris replied, shrugging it off.

"Yes, it is! Who knows what could have happened to her if you weren't there?"

"I'll always be there,"

"I know." Sam paused, biting her lip nervously. "But do you think she's right about... you know, the things she said?"

"I mean, Sam..." Iris hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I can't blame you for wanting to protect your sister. God knows I'm just as paranoid. But Tara has a point, at least to some extent."

Sam looked down, nodding in agreement. "I just want her to be safe. She means everything to me."

"I know, but you have to let her live, too," Iris replied gently.

"You think she hates me for being so overprotective?" The vulnerability in Sam's voice didn't go unnoticed.

"You're her sister; she loves you. You two just need to talk it out," Iris reassured her, pulling her into a warm hug. Sam hugged back tightly, grateful for Iris's support. When they finally released each other, Sam turned to leave.

"Oh, and you should also talk to her," Sam added, pausing at the door.

"Yeah, I'm aware," Iris said with a sigh.

"Because you know Mindy was right," Sam said playfully, a smirk spreading across her face. "You two are tiring me out with all this will they, won't they."

"WAIT, WHAT?"

Iris felt a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach as she prepared to talk to Tara. The tension in the air had been palpable all night, as things had taken a weird turn between them and she knew she had to address it, even if it made her uncomfortable. She tried to block out Mindy and Sam's words; they weren't helping her anxiety at all.

Knowing Tara had likely sobered up but would soon be grappling with a headache, Iris grabbed a bottle of pain relievers from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she headed toward Tara's room, her heart racing with each step.

As she reached the door, she knocked lightly, announcing her presence. Tara was reclining on her bed, half-propped up on one elbow, deeply engaged in a conversation with Quinn. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated Tara's features, casting a warm glow on her expression, but Iris could see the fatigue lurking beneath her surface. When they both turned to her at the sound of the knock, Tara's surprise was evident, and Quinn, sensing the shift, quickly rose to her feet.

"I'm gonna go, let you guys... chat," Quinn said, her voice soft as she headed for the door. As she passed Iris, she exchanged a meaningful glance with Tara, a silent communication that Iris couldn't see before the door clicked shut behind her.

"Figured you would need these," Iris said, holding out the bottle of pills and giving it a gentle shake. She stepped into the room, placing the bottle on the small table in front of the bed, feeling the weight of the moment settle around them.

"Thank you," Tara replied, managing a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You can go back to your room. I'm pretty sure the fighting is done for the day."

Iris couldn't resist a playful retort. "That's a shame; I was ready to throw some more punches." She flexed her arms dramatically, trying to lighten the mood, before sitting next to Tara in the bed.

"Oh yeah? Everyone better start fearing for their lives then,"

"What can I say? I'm just too cool,". They exchanged a silly smile, the kind that made the world around them feel a little brighter. For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, both of them trying to find the right words.

"Thank you," Tara finally said, her gaze drifting down to her feet, the weight of her words hanging in the air. "For not letting me go up those stairs."

Iris shifted closer, their shoulders brushing lightly. She could feel the warmth radiating from Tara, and it gave her a sense of comfort. "It's no problem really. I would gladly punch him again if you asked me,"

"Yeah, but then you got hurt," Tara replied, tilting her head to study Iris's face more closely. Her eyes dropped to the small bruise on Iris's lip, a reminder of the confrontation.

"It's okay, I don't mind. It was just my lip," Iris said with a shrug, trying to brush off the concern. But there was something deeper in Tara's gaze that made her heart race, a mix of gratitude and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. The air felt charged, as if the silence between them was waiting for the right moment to spark into something more.

Tara glanced down at her white shirt, noticing the faint, dark stains that marred the fabric now that she had gotten rid of her tie and suit jacket. A hint of panic crept into her voice as she asked, "Is that blood?" It seemed the mess wasn't limited to just the cut on Iris's lip.

Iris's eyes widened for a moment. "No?" she replied, trying to deflect.

"You're not supposed to answer with a question, Ris," Tara teased, a grin tugging at her lips. Iris laughed quietly, and Tara felt a rush of warmth at the sound. There was something magical about being the reason behind Iris's smile, a feeling that made her heart swell.

"I think I was more messed up than I realized," The shorter girl admitted, the weight of her words sinking in.

"What happened? You don't usually drink like this," Iris probed, concern threading through her voice.

Tara looked away, unable to meet Iris's gaze. It felt as if the truth was etched across her face—how she had drowned her worries in drinks, all to forget the sight of Iris leaving with that boy, Damon. The memory stung, and she forced herself to swallow hard. "I just... had a lot of things on my mind,"

"Anything you wanna share?" Iris nudged her gently in the shoulder, her touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down Tara's spine.

"Not yet, if that's okay," Tara replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I respect that," Iris said, her understanding evident. "I have a lot on my mind too." The air between them shifted, Tara felt the walls she'd built around her emotions start to crack, and for the first time, she considered sharing the weight of her feelings with Iris. But for now, she simply held on to the fleeting connection they shared, hoping it would be enough.

"Did you have fun?" Tara asked, her voice light, but there was a hint of curiosity behind it.

"I did, especially when I got to dance with you." Iris locked her gaze onto Tara's, the sincerity in her eyes making Tara's heart skip a beat.

"Yeah? You weren't that bad,"

"Maybe we can do that again sometime. I think I still need some practice." Iris wiggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly, and Tara couldn't help but nudge her playfully, a warm laugh escaping her.

"You didn't dance with Damon?" Tara inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Damon?" Iris laughed, shaking her head. "He would rather die than dance with me. Not even his boyfriend gets him to do it."

"Boyfriend? Oh," Tara said, her surprise evident.

"Yeah, why?" Iris asked, tilting her head slightly, curiosity piqued.

"I thought... maybe you two..." Tara trailed off, her voice softening.

"What? No way! He's just my friend, and besides, he is gay,"

"Sorry, that's embarrassing." Tara instinctively put her hands around her head, trying to shield her blush, but before she could hide, Iris gently grabbed one of her hands, intertwining their fingers in a warm clasp.

Iris looked down at their joined hands, the softness of Tara's skin grounding her. "Besides, even if he were into women, I wouldn't go for him either," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"Too picky?" Tara asked, her heart racing with an unexplainable thrill.

"Maybe," Iris replied with a slight shrug. "I guess I'm more into brunettes."

Tara's heart raced so fast she thought she might faint. The implication of Iris's words washed over her like a wave, leaving her breathless. "Good choice," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

After a moment of silence, where the only sound in the room was the rhythm of their breaths, Iris finally spoke up, her voice gentle yet firm. "You know, don't be mad at your sister. She loves you and she's just trying to protect you."

Tara sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know, but still, sometimes it feels like too much." The weight of her words hung in the air, thick with unspoken emotions.

"Maybe," Iris replied, rubbing soothing circles on Tara's hand. "But she's just trying to keep you safe. So am I." The warmth of Iris's touch sent a shiver of comfort through Tara. "Even if we both still live with the fears of the past."

"I'm sorry for that," Tara muttered apologetically "I didn't want to be rude. I know how much better you got after therapy."

"It's okay," Iris assured her, a soft smile breaking through. "And yeah, I did. Perhaps you should consider it too." At the look on Tara's face, Iris snorted softly, the sound lightening the mood. "Geez, I'm not saying now, but maybe in the future if you ever need it."

"Is Iris the psychologist talking or Iris my friend?"

"Both?" They both laughed, the tension easing further. "I didn't want to go either, but now I see how much I've improved."

"I see it too," Tara replied, sincerity in her tone.

"Before, I would've never gone to that party," Iris continued, her gaze turning introspective. "I remember being constantly on edge, like someone or something was out there just waiting to attack me." She paused, taking a breath to steady herself. "Don't get me wrong, sometimes I still feel like that, and I think it had become a part of me. But I've learned to embrace it."

"I never told you this, but I'm really proud of you," Tara said, her voice steady.

Iris took a deep breath. "It also helped me not to be scared of love or feelings anymore," she admitted, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "It's funny; I almost thought I would never be able to feel again."

"And do you?" Tara asked, leaning in slightly. "I mean, feel again? Are you still scared of it?"

"I haven't been scared for a while," Iris said, her eyes reflecting a vulnerability that was hard to ignore. "Not when it's the most beautiful feeling." They locked eyes, unable to look away, and the moment felt charged, almost electric. Tara had to look away, her heart pounding, she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"So should I be worried about the line of people that are probably waiting to date you?" Tara teased, trying to deflect the intensity of the moment.

"I highly doubt anyone would wait," Iris replied, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"You'd be surprised," Tara shot back, her heart skipping a beat as she realized they were moving closer to each other, the space between them shrinking without conscious thought.

"It's more probable that I should be the one worried about the people waiting to date you," Iris countered, her tone light but her eyes serious.

"Believe me," Tara said, her eyes tracing every movement Iris made, captivated by her "There's nothing to worry about."

"Good, because you can do so much better than date that perv Frankie,"

"You think so?" Tara whispered, her voice barely audible, as if she were afraid to disturb the delicate moment they were sharing.

"Tara..." She breathed out, struggling to find the right words to convey the depth of her feelings. "You're—" She paused, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, making it difficult to articulate just how much Tara meant to her. "Everything."

"Anyone would be lucky to have you," Iris finished, her voice filled with sincerity. The words hung in the air, causing Tara to hitch her breath, her heart racing as if it were trying to escape her chest. She took her time looking at Iris, the warmth radiating between them making the world outside seem irrelevant. Her gaze slowly shifted to Iris's lips, a magnetic pull drawing her in. Gently, Tara brought the hand that wasn't holding Iris's to brush against her wounded lip, her fingertips caressing it with a tenderness that made Iris suppress a whimper. The soft touch sent a jolt of electricity through them, both feeling the intensity of the moment.

"Does it hurt?" Tara asked, her eyes searching Iris's for an answer, only to find Iris staring intently at her lips, mirroring her own longing.

"Not really," Iris breathed out, the words escaping in a whisper that felt charged with meaning.

Their foreheads pressed together, the warmth of their skin mingling as they both tried to steady their breaths, the air thick with anticipation. "I'm not messed up anymore," Tara whispered, her voice soft but firm. "Just to let you know."

"Okay," Iris replied, her heart fluttering in response. They leaned in, their faces inches apart, the world around them fading into nothingness. Just as they were about to bridge the gap between them, the door swung open.

"I forgot... my phone," Quinn said, her voice cutting through the moment. But then she stopped short, taking in the scene before her. The two girls, so close together, made Quinn's eyes widen in surprise. She grimaced in apology, Iris and Tara pulled back quickly, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Shit sorry, um—did I cockblock you?" Quinn questioned, her voice cutting through the charged air, making both girls look at her in surprise.

"What did you just say?" Tara blurted out, her tone a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "God," they both exclaimed simultaneously, the embarrassment radiating off Iris as she pressed her hand against her forehead, while Tara's expression shifted to irritation.

"I cockblocked you" Quinn said, her eyes wide as she assessed the situation.

"No," Iris insisted, shaking her head vigorously, desperate to stop Quinn from digging herself into a deeper hole.

"I cockblocked you, didn't I?" Quinn pressed on, oblivious to Iris's attempts to ease the tension.

"Quinn if you continue saying cock im going to kill myself".

"Immediate no," Tara interjected, her voice firm, but Iris stood there uncomfortably, not really knowing what to do with herself.

"Quinn," Tara sighed, looking down at the floor as she tried to gather her thoughts. "What did... what did you need?" Her brows furrowed in disbelief; she couldn't fathom how her day had taken such a turn.

"My phone," Quinn replied, her tone casual as she bent down to pick it up from Tara's desk.

"Don't ever enter a room like that," Tara told her seriously, her voice low but laced with anger.

"I won't," Quinn promised, shaking her head earnestly, though a hint of sheepishness crept into her expression.

"It was rude," Tara continued, her irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

"I'm gonna go," Iris said awkwardly, signaling toward the door as if she were trying to escape the situation. "I think I left my... um, window open." The words tumbled out in a rush, and she turned to leave but paused for a moment. "Talk to your sister, okay? She heard what you said," Iris said, her voice softening just a bit before she slipped out the door.

"Okay," Tara smiled at her, but the moment Iris left, that smile vanished. She turned to Quinn, a steely resolve settling in. "I'm going to kill you."

Quinn's eyes widened in panic. "I'm so sorry, sorry!" she mouthed as she hurried out of the room, leaving Tara alone with her thoughts.

Tara sighed in disbelief, her mind racing with a mix of frustration and lingering hope. As the door clicked shut behind Quinn, she couldn't help but lay back on her bed, a smile creeping onto her face. She let out a giggle, the warmth of the earlier moment with Iris still tingling in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, she was finally on the verge of getting what she had always wanted.

Iris and Tara were sprawled comfortably on the couch, the soft glow of the television casting a warm light across the cozy living room, mingling with the faint hum of conversation from their group of friends nearby. Laughter bubbled up now and then, a lighthearted soundtrack to their evening as everyone made an effort to enjoy themselves, if only for a little while.

Iris leaned back against the cushions, her head tilting slightly as she glanced at Tara, who was curled up beside her with a playful grin. Tara's hair fell in soft waves around her face, and Iris couldn't help but admire how effortlessly beautiful she looked in the low light.

Tara leaned back against the cushions, "What do you want to watch?" she asked.

"Let's just see what's on the news," Iris suggested, reaching for the remote. She clicked through a few channels until the familiar logo of the news station appeared on the screen.

As the reporter started talking, Tara settled down next to Iris, their shoulders brushing together. Iris could feel a familiar warmth spread through her, a reminder of how comforting it was just to be near her. They exchanged a quick smile, but that moment of serenity shattered when the news reporter appeared, his face serious and his voice steady.

"And in other news, a recent investigation has uncovered troubling details related to the events of last year's incident of Woodsboro," the reporter said, his tone grave. Iris's heart felt like it skipped a beat, her stomach twisting as memories flooded back, memories they had tried to put behind.

Tara stiffened beside her, the color draining from her face as she listened intently. "No..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Iris's eyes were glued to the screen, watching as the reporter continued to speak. "I'm standing in front of the apartment building where the mutilated bodies of two students..." They heard the sound of Chad's footsteps thundering after the door, his desperation palpable as he raced to catch up with Sam. Just a few moments later, Sam and Danny walked in, their expressions full of concern as they approached.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, glancing around the room, her eyes wide and searching, with Danny trailing closely behind her, a look of confusion etched on his face.

Quinn, with a sly smile, couldn't help but comment, "Cute boy. Nice," pointing up at Danny, a playful glint in her eye.

But the levity was short-lived as the news turned grim. "Were discovered. Their names have just been released by police. Jason Garvey and Greg Bruckner".

"No," Iris heard Tara whisper in disbelief. In an instinctive gesture, Iris quickly grabbed Tara's hand, squeezing it tightly to offer comfort in the midst of the unfolding chaos.

"Holy shit, that's that chode from our film studies class!" Mindy exclaimed, her finger jabbing at the TV where the breaking news report was streaming. "The ones obsessed with Argento!"

The atmosphere thickened as the report continued. "Also found at the scene were various Ghostface costumes, a character popularized by the Stab movie franchise".

"No way," Iris whispered, her heart racing. Deep down, she had sensed something was off about Jason with his weird interest on Sam going to that party, she didn't want to imagine what was his plan. She could feel Tara's gaze burning into her, a silent acknowledgment that they are both thinking the same thing.

Sam let out a deep sigh. "Pack a bag. We leave in ten," she declared firmly, her voice cutting through the silence in the room.

"Sam! Wait, Sam!" Tara yelled, springing up from her seat to chase after her sister.

"We're getting out of the city," Sam replied, her tone leaving no room for debate.

"I'm not getting stabbed in the name of these fucking movies again!" Iris interjected, standing up with determination. "I'm buying the tickets." The fierce resolve in her eyes made it clear she was serious.

"What?" Danny blurted, confusion and concern mingling on his face.

Chad turned to Danny, gently but insistently pushing him backwards. "Thank you very much, suspicious new guy, but we got it from here," he said, waving him off with a quick flick of his wrist. "Have a good night. Get home safe. Go, go, go." His tone was urgent, he needed to protect their little group.

As Tara sprinted after her older sister, she watched as Sam headed straight for the knife stash, her hands deftly pulling knives from the holder. The glint of steel caught the light, and Tara felt a chill run down her spine as she realized what Sam was preparing for.

"Sam, just wait a minute here—" Tara exclaimed, her voice rising with anxiety. She could already sense where this was heading, and she hated it. "Let's just talk about this!"

"Sam, bring me one!" Iris shouted, her resolve unyielding.

"On it," Sam replied tersely, her focus unwavering.

"No, wait, Iris, not you too!" Tara pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice.

"No, we are leaving," Sam hissed, storming past Tara with two knives in her hands, she handed one to Iris, who accepted it without a question.

"No, wait, let's talk about this for a second!" Tara tried to reason with Sam, her voice softening as she attempted to pull her sister back from the edge of impulsive decisions. "This attack might not have anything to do with us!" Tara's words hung in the air, a fragile hope that perhaps they could find a different way out of this nightmare.

Sam spun around, the sudden movement stopping Tara in her tracks. "Are you serious?" she demanded, her voice a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

"It's Halloween! Everybody's wearing masks!" Tara countered, her tone defensive as she tried to make sense of the chaos spiraling around them. "You don't know"

"Tara, this isn't a coincidence!" Sam snapped, exasperation spilling over. "You knew those guys!"

"Barely," Tara shot back, her voice heavy with shadows of doubt and fear.

"You guys looked really friendly," Iris interjected, only adding fuel to the fire.

"Not helping, Iris!" Tara retorted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"There's no way you think that it's just a coincidence that the guy you met and got close to you, was found dead with a stash of Ghostface costumes" Iris pressed, her tone fierce, eyes blazing with intensity.

"Thank you," Sam said, shooting Iris a grateful glance "Chad, Mindy, back me up."

Chad hesitated, glancing at the floor as he searched for the right words. "It's a little bit..."

"Close to home," Mindy finished for him, still perched on the couch with Anika, who looked equally troubled by the unfolding drama.

"See?" Sam exclaimed, her frustration beginning to morph into a desperate plea for understanding.

"It's better to prevent than die in the process," Iris added, her voice firm.

Tara turned to Iris, hurt flashing in her eyes. "Why can't you be on my side for once?"

"I'm always going to be on your side," Iris replied, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow. "But not if it ends with you dead."

Tara turned around, her eyes landing on the ginger-haired woman perched on the couch. Quinn sat there, her expression a clear reflection of fear and confusion as she absorbed the tension radiating through the room.

"Quinn, your dad's a cop, right?" Tara asked hurriedly,desperation creeping into her tone.

"Can you call him and find out what's going on?"

She turned around once again to shout at her sister and Iris "Before you two make the unilateral decision to abandon my college education and flee the fucking state!"

Quinn hesitated for a moment before nodding, her brow furrowing with concern. "I'm calling him now," she said carefully, raising her phone to her ear.

"Thank you," Tara replied, her voice softer now, though the underlying anxiety remained.

Just then, the phone rang, and the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. Everyone seemed to freeze, wide-eyed and tense as they exchanged anxious glances, the ominous sound amplifying the dread hanging in the air. Iris reached for Sam's phone, her fingers shaking slightly as she glanced at the caller ID.

"Gale Weathers," Iris read aloud, a sarcastic laugh escaping her lips. "I think the fuck not."

With that, she hung up abruptly, placing the phone back on the table with a decisive clatter. Gale had turned their tragic story from the previous year into a sensationalized tale, cashing in on their traumas, and it got on Iris's nerves. She remembered how Gale had twisted their experiences into a narrative that painted Sam as a "natural killer" and Iris as a "naive lover." None of them held the older woman in high regard at that moment.

"Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?" Ethan asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"You gotta keep up, my dude," Anika replied, her tone dripping with incredulity as she shook her head at him like he was a dumb child.

"You've never watched the Stab movies?" Iris turned to Ethan, an inquisitive glare piercing through the boy. As he shook his head in denial, she stared at him for a moment longer, watching him struggle to maintain her gaze, his discomfort palpable.

"Sam," Quinn called out, worry etched across her features. "My dad wants to talk to you."

Sam looked up, her expression shifting from frustration to concern as she took the phone from Quinn. "Mr. Bailey, hi"

"Hey, Sam. I was actually just about to call you," he replied, his tone professional yet tinged with urgency.

"Well, my sister thinks I'm probably overreacting," Sam told him, a hint of frustration seeping through.

"No, unfortunately, you're not," he said, the gravity of his words settling heavily in the air.

"What do you mean? What's going on?" Sam questioned, confusion etching lines on her forehead.

"I'm afraid I need you to come down to the station," he said, his voice firm with concern.

"Alright," Sam replied, her mind racing as she processed the sudden shift in the conversation.

Hanging up the phone, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Without saying a word to anyone, she moved towards the door, her pace brisk and determined.

Tara and Iris exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. In an instant, they moved to follow Sam, urgency propelling them forward. "You guys stay here. We'll go with Sam," Tara called out. They didn't wait for a reply; they were already at the door, Sam poised on the threshold, ready to step into the night.

"Tara? No, get back inside. Lock the door," Sam called out, turning to face them, her expression unable to hide her frustration. "Iris, go with her and keep her safe."

"Are you serious? Now you don't want to stick together?" Tara shot back, disbelief lacing her words as she crossed her arms defiantly.

"She's right, Sam. You're insane if you think we're leaving you alone," Iris chimed in, her voice resolute as she stepped closer to Tara.

Sam hesitated, glancing between her sister and Iris, her resolve wavering under the weight of their insistence. "I just—" she began, but the look on their faces told her all she needed to know.

With a reluctant sigh, she finally relented. "Fine. Let's go." Together, they started walking towards the station, each step heavy with unspoken fears.

As The three of them walked down the street, Sam's phone began ringing once again. She instinctively glanced at the screen, and her heart dropped. The sight of the caller ID made her freeze in place, rooted to the pavement.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Iris asked, her voice laced with concern as she noticed the shock written all over Sam's face.

Tara, too, stopped walking, her eyes darting between Sam and the phone, a look of disbelief crossing her features. "What the fuck?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. They all could see the name glaring back at them: "Richie Kirsch."

"I...I never deleted his contact," Sam confessed, her voice shaky. "This is coming from his number."

A chill ran down Iris's spine, her instincts kicking in. "Don't pick that up," she warned, urgency rising in her tone.

"Yeah, just let it ring," Tara echoed, glancing around as if expecting someone to jump out from the shadows.

But Sam, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, ignored their pleas. With a deep breath, she pressed the green button, accepting the call against her better judgment.

"Who is this?" Sam demanded as she gripped the phone tightly.

"Hello, Samantha. Did you miss me?" The voice was unmistakable, distorted by the sinister quality of a voice changer, sending shivers down their spines.

"Oh God, I hate this motherfucker". Iris muttered, burying her face in her hands in frustration. Sam, determined to face this threat head-on, switched the call to speaker mode so Tara and Iris could hear as well.

"I want you to think long and hard about whether you really want to do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead" Sam growled into the phone, her voice low but steady.

"You should be thanking me, Sam. Jason and Greg were gonna kill you, your sister and all of your friends" Ghostface replied, his tone mocking and sinister. Just then, the three girls caught sight of a suspicious figure approaching them from down the street, a hood pulled low over his face, obscuring his features.

Instinctively, Iris stepped in front of Sam and Tara, her body tense as she faced the stranger. The man walked past them, his gait slow and deliberate, yet he didn't make eye contact. Iris's heart raced as she glanced back at her friends, trying to gauge their reactions while keeping her eyes on the hooded figure. The atmosphere grew thick with tension, each of them acutely aware that this was far from over. "I gutted them before they had the chance"

"Thanks dude for murdering people in our name".

"Hello to you too, Iris. I can't wait to formally meet you," Ghostface mocked, his voice dripping with amusement.

"I can't wait to meet you either," Iris retorted, her voice steady despite the quaking fear in her stomach. "So you can personally meet my knife" Her heart raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she spoke.

Sam sensed the tension building and quickly interjected, hoping to redirect the focus. "So what? You're protecting us now?" she questioned. She wanted to pull Iris back from the brink of confrontation, fearing that provoking him further might escalate the situation.

"Not quite," Ghostface replied, his tone icy and calculated. "I'm going to show the whole world who you really are. A liar and a killer. I'm going to punish you". Each word dripped with a chilling certainty, as though he relished the thought of punish them.

"You shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet, asshole" Sam shot back, her anger boiling over.

"Don't be cute. You're gonna pay for what you did. And I'm not gonna stop until I butcher you. You and anyone who gets between us. You and Tara better watch your backs" Ghostface said. "As for you Iris? I'm going to have so much fun watching you beg to end you once I force you to watch the final moments of everyone else".

"You want me dead? Get in line motherfucker"

"You better watch your backs."

"You better watch yours." Sam snapped, her voice laced with venom.

"Tara, behind you!" Iris shouted, her voice slicing through the night air with urgency. The adrenaline surged through her veins as she realized the danger. She had been so consumed by the call that she hadn't noticed Ghostface stealthily approaching.

Before she could even process the situation, a gloved hand clamped around Tara's neck, getting ready to stab her right in the chest. Panic gripped Iris, but there was no time for fear—only action.

"No!" Tara screamed, her eyes wide with horror as she felt the presence of the killer. Iris lunged at Ghostface, her small frame colliding with his. The force of her impact sent them both tumbling into the nearby bushes, leaves and branches scattering in all directions.

"Run!" Sam shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. She grasped Tara's arm, yanking her forward with a desperate urgency. The street stretched out before them, dark and foreboding, but they had no choice. They had to escape.

"In there!" Sam pointed towards a convenience store glowing dimly in the distance, its neon lights flickering like a beacon of hope. The three of them sprinted down the empty street, their hearts pounding in rhythm with their frantic footsteps.

"He's coming!" Iris yelled.

"Help! Somebody!" they cried out, desperation lacing their voices as they dashed for the store. Ghostface was close behind, his presence a looming shadow, ready to strike at any moment.

"Please help us!" Tara shouted once they were inside. They tried to get to the front of the line in order to talk to the owner.

"There's a fucking line here, girls" someone snapped.

"Someone is trying to kill us" Iris yelled defiantly, her voice echoing in the cramped space. "You think I give a fuck?" Just as the words left her mouth, the store door swung open with a jarring creak, revealing Ghostface, who entered with an unsettling calm, his dark figure cutting through the fluorescent lights like a shadow.

"You got a problem here" The guy who snapped at them bravely said as he approached the killer, who in response just tilted his head, the mask obscuring any trace of emotion, before stabbing him in the gut multiple times. Gasps of horror erupted from the other costumers, their panic palpable as they rushed toward the door, desperate to escape the unfolding nightmare. Another guy tried to stop him but that just resulted in him getting stabbed in the neck.

The three girls exchanged horrified glances, their eyes wide as they gasped in shock, instinctively backing away from the scene. The air felt charged with fear as Ghostface began to advance towards them, his movements deliberate and predatory.

"Hey!" The store owner yelled, popping up from behind the counter with a shotgun. He pulled the trigger but it wasn't fast enough as Ghostface dodge it just in time. The man looked appalled as he walked through his store to approach the killer only to find that he disappeared.

"Go out the back!" He shouted at them.

"Thank you!" Tara yelled in response, the three of them not wasting another moment before rushing towards the door.

"Fuck, it's locked," Sam cursed out as she and Iris continued to force the lock in order to open it.

"Keys!" Tara called to the man. "We need your keys!"

The man began searching for the keys and just when he finally found them, Ghostface appeared out of nowhere and used the fact that he was distracted to stab him in the chest. The owner fell into the floor grumbling in pain as he tried to escape the store but it was no use as Ghostface grabbed the shotgun that was on the floor and shoot the man in the head making all the blood splutter into the fridges.

Sam pushed both girls down onto the ground signaling them to keep quiet as they crawled to another aisle.

They could hear Ghostface's footsteps as he fired at the freezer behind them, glass shattering everywhere. He squeezed off a few more shots, but a quick glance told Iris that he was getting closer. Sam seized a can and hurled it to the far end of the store, hoping to divert his attention.

Unfortunately, it didn't buy them much time. They managed to get to another aisle in silence, but then Ghostface turned, locking eyes with Iris for a brief, chilling moment.

Before Ghostface could pull the trigger again, the three girls acted on impulse, shoving the shelves of food onto him with all their strength. Cans and boxes tumbled down, creating a chaotic barrier as they scrambled to escape the scene.

"Run, go!" Sam shouted, her voice laced with panic. The urgency in her tone snapped Iris into action. She grabbed Tara's hand, feeling the tremor in her friend's grip, and urged her forward.

"Tara, we have to move!" Iris cried, noticing how her friend stood frozen, eyes wide with fear. Sam was already darting ahead, glancing back to ensure they were following.

They sprinted toward the door, hearts pounding, Iris let out a sigh of relief when they were finally outside and they could hear Police sirens getting closer to them.The relief didn't last long as once they turned around to look back at the scene, they found the Ghostface mask laying on the ground, which could only mean one thing. He had escaped.

#scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x fem!reader #sam carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin

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midnight1nk · 17 hours ago

Text

EPISODE CONCEPT #4

What if... SMG3 had the courage to confess his feelings for the real SMG4?

For context, this is part two of my Episode Concept #3 [link], which many have asked for! @lovesick-simp, this is for you! (this is somehow longer than #3, holy shit.) Now, without further ado…

I promise.

He could never forget the feeling of tangible pixels leaving his arms. What once skin and clothes turned into mere 0’s and 1’s.

Those eyes, the ones he was willing to sink in its depths for hours, they cried. Of apology, of bittersweet farewell. He promised a lot of things, and one was to never let Four cry.

But it was never your Four.

At the time, a thousand thoughts passed through his mind. That this was simply a nightmare, or he had gotten too drunk. Or he ate a Wonder Flower by accident. Somehow, some way, this can’t be happening. He wanted to deny it all, but he knew. Why deny the truth when he fading away in your arms?

Goodbye, Three…

“SMG3?”

Three jumped at the mention of his name, turning to Tari who looked back at him with concern.

Tari: “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to know if you’re okay. You’ve been staring at Lil’ Spot for a while.”

He blinked at her, and then looked down at the gray-feathered duckling nestle in his cupped hands. Ah, yeah, he was.

SMG3: “I was just daydreaming, that’s all.” [*looks around, recalling where he was*] “It really is a nice place. It’s not far from the Showgrounds, right?” Tari, smiles: “Yep, I always like to come down here, it helps me clear my head. Plus, I get to hang around with the duckies!” SMG3: [*nods and with a finger, he soothes the duckling’s head*] “You were right before, I could use the fresh air.” “Eh, Tari, a little help here?”

Three looked across the way to see a couple of yellow ducklings climbing all over SMG4, who was standing by the edge of the lake. All over on his arms, his shoulders, under his blue cap. As Tari ran over to help, Four trying to not let any of them fall while giggling, tickled by their fluffy feathers.

Three began to smile, and perhaps he could let his heart feel that missing warmth.

Have courage.

But the cautious part of him didn't let him. He should've known better, he apologized to his heart.

Not yet.

Four and Tari came back with the tamed ducklings lined up in their arms.

SMG4: “If I spent a little more time with these little guys, they're gonna think I’m their mom.” SMG3, hums: “You always did have a thing for being the center of the universe.” SMG4: “Hey, it's not like I do it on purpose.”

And yet, you managed to become mine. But Three kept that thought to himself.

Tari: “It's getting late, and I told Meggy I was making dinner tonight. I should probably get them back to their mother.” SMG4, handing the ducklings from his arms to hers: “Yeah, we should head home, SMG3.”

Three said goodbye to Lil' Spot before handing the duckling to Tari, who promptly went to drop them off and returned. While Four was distracted, folding up the picnic blanket, Three leaned towards Tari while keeping an eye on Four.

SMG3, whispered: “Tari, could you please do a simulation check?”

Tari looked at him, her concern reflecting once again. He has asked that everyday. Any chance he was with her, it was the same. The first few times, she tried assuring him, telling him, “It's okay, SMG3. There's no need, you’re safe now.”

But it never seemed to calm his nerves. As much as she wanted to protest, she knew that it wasn't an unreasonable exaggeration. Whatever the simulation did to him must've been really horrible for him not to tell anyone what happened. To think he was back.

Tari nodded and programmed a command on the floating screen projecting by her arm. A window popped up saying, No detection of simulation.

Tari: “All clear.” SMG3, letting out a sigh of relief: “Thanks. I owe you one.” Tari, letting out a small smile: “No worries, we’re your friends after all. Though, I wouldn't mind having one of your cookies again once you’re healed.” SMG3: [*chuckle*] “That I can do.” SMG4, swinging the backpack over his shoulder: “Alright, ready to go?”

SMG3 nods. After saying goodbye to Tari, SMG4 pushed SMG3’s wheelchair on the path towards the Showgrounds.

It’s been over a month since Three was freed from the simulation. The Crew wasted no time bringing him to the hospital. The rest, well, it seemed like a blur. To Three at least. The doctors and nurses, what they said, he never caught it. He was lucky that his friends were there to remember for him. Three wasn’t exactly sure what to feel. Should he grieve? Should he be grateful that the Crew found him and his son?

What he did know was the promise that he kept.

The Crew was naturally relieved to see he was in good hands, but anyone could tell that they were exhausted from the stress of the search. So, while Three was going through recovery, they took turns watching over him. The rest, who didn't have the shift, took the chance to rest.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

One night, Tari and Saiko were walking down the quiet hospital hall, Saiko holding a gift bag and Tari a duffle bag with colorful patches all over it.

Tari: “Do you think SMG3 will like the card?” Saiko: “He’s a big softie on the inside, of course he will. Let's just hope we can pry SMG4 away from him.” Tari: “You can't exactly blame SMG4. I mean, don't you remember? He didn't sleep for days, or even eat. He was worried sick.” Saiko: “But he needs rest too, not just us. SMG3 is rescued, he should let us take care of it, if he wasn't so stubborn.” Tari: “Well, that nurse did say SMG3 would be better soon. Maybe we convince SMG4 this time.”

They reached to Three's room, but they found an unexpected sight when they opened the door:

Four fell asleep on the chair beside the bed, his head resting on Three’s lap like a pillow. A sleeping Three had a hand gently on Four’s hair with all the tenderness and quiet reassurance in the world. What was free, their hands were intertwined. It was certainly a rare sight, and they seemed so at peace with each other.

Tari and Saiko shared a glance, a gentle smile.

Tari: “Aw, that's so cute.” [*snaps a picture for the group chat*] Saiko: “C’mon, let’s them be.”

Saiko tiptoed into the room and left the gift bag on the nearby table. Peering at them one last time, she gently closes the door. They could always come back tomorrow.

There, what awaited in the gift bag, were reminders of home. A bomb from his cafe, a mini-plush of Eggdog, a record of jazz music. A homemade card, one side filled with heartwarming messages and the other a drawing of all the Crew with the Castle in the background, one of the best works Melony has ever done.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG4: “I bet I can drink a thousand cans of Monster Energy.” SMG3: “Nah uh! You’re lucky I can’t drink that stuff yet because I would’ve totally beaten you!” SMG4: “Oh, really? Well, I can’t wait to see you try.”

The two laughed as they reached the Castle. Eggdog greeted them at the door, happy to see his dads (And yes, I know what I said, shh) after Three's physical therapy session and jumped into his dad’s arms for a quick hug. Beeg4 slowly followed his brother, only letting out a pufferfish noise as a small “hello”. He isn’t usually the affectionate type. Four went to get Three’s customized cane leaned against the wall, and helped Three get to his feet. (The cane was a gift from the Crew but Bob was the one who added neat little secrets for Three to use. Though, Bob wants it to be off the record that it isn’t because he’s gone soft or anything.)

Ever since Four proposed the idea for Three to stay at the Castle, this has become second nature for them. They switched out the wheelchair with the cane at home so Three would be more comfortable walking around. Plus, he would usually hold Four’s arm to lean on. After his physical therapy appointments, Four would cook up dinner for the whole family. Or see if there’s any leftovers or takeout on special occasions. Three recently got the approval to eat solid food again, and Three couldn't be more glad. He was honestly getting sick of the same old soups day after day. Well, even if they tasted good. And they all sit at their usual seats at the table, not that they assigned seats or anything. It felt natural.

And today was pizza night.

SMG3: “Y’know…” SMG4, setting the pizza down: “No.” SMG3: “Oh, c’mon. You haven’t even tried it, you big baby.” SMG4: “And I already know that your ‘Ultimate Pizza’ is a disgrace to culinary art. To your tastebuds. Who the hell puts baked beans on pizza?” SMG3: “Well, Eggdog likes it.” Eggdog, helping set the plates: [*happy bark*] SMG4: “Oh, so now you’re bringing the kids into this? C’mon, Beeg, help me out here.” [Beeg doesn’t respond] [*acts dramatically, like someone stabbed him in the heart*] “I’ve been betrayed. Pleh.” SMG3, shakes head amusingly: “Shut up and eat, idiot.” SMG4: “Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.” [*taunting*] “Forever.” SMG3: “Oh no, whatever should I… do.”

He… said this before, hasn’t he?

SMG4, mouth full of pizza: “Uh, SMG3, you’re good?” SMG3: “Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” [*eats his slice somberly, looking away*]

Four kept his gaze on Three. He wanted Three to tell him what was in his mind. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand. Comfort him. They have been there for each other at the worst of times. At each other’s worst.

There were two things they shared with absolute certainty: (1) they’re both stubborn, and (2) they would put up a brave face for the people around them.

Four did, when he discovered Three and Eggdog missing from the cafe. He would put on a determined smile, telling the rest of the Crew that they would rescue Three. But he supposed they could see right through him. That he was crumbling. Three was the one who saved him when he went insane and was possessed by the demonic keyboard. How could he not be frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t do the same?

Biting into his pepperoni slice, Four thought to himself, if only there was a way to take away all the pain Three was feeling right now. If only Three would let go of the front he has and let him show his pain in front of Four. To let Four be his safe space.

There isn’t much he can do, other than to let Three come to him on his own terms. When he is ready.

After finishing up dinner and washing the dishes, they all went to Four’s room. Eggdog and Begg decided to play Jenga, Three sat on the bed scrolling through his phone, and Four went back to editing videos since there was a lot of catching up to do. The record player was playing jazz music, the LP cover was signed “To SMG3”. Three bobbed his head while Four hummed the notes, admittedly it was a great disc that they could both enjoy. After a while, Three reminded Four to take a break from the screen, to which Four immediately complied and sat next to Three.

SMG4: “How’s your legs?”

SMG3: “Tired. But not as bad as last time. Could you pass the pills?”

SMG4, grabbing the bottle and handing it to Three: “Well, you are getting better in today's therapy session. Just wait a bit more.”

When SMG3 grabbed his medication, they briefly touched. It normally wouldn’t mean anything, but there was a tingle. Of curiosity, of warmth. The two lightly blushed, which they quickly brushed it off. They sat in silence as Three swallowed the pills.

SMG3: [*held his jaw by the hand*] “Do you know what I miss the most?” [*looks at Four, who nods as a sign for him to go on*] “Dancing.”

Three didn’t lie, it was one of the things he loved to do. That, and one other reason...

After some thought, Four stood up from the bed. Three didn’t even notice until Four stood before him. Four cleared his throat, a tint of pink on his cheeks, and held out his hand.

SMG4: “Wanna dance?” SMG3: [*puzzled, looking at the hand to Four and back*] “SMG4, I think we should get you some glasses.” SMG4: [*amusingly rolling his eyes*] “’It doesn’t have to be perfect.’ Isn’t that what you always told me?” SMG3: [*starstruck at the remembrance of this memory, lightly chuckled*] “And you dare to use my own words against me.”

Four helped Three up to his feet, his arms being his only support instead of the cane or wheelchair. At first, it was naturally awkward, being that Three is still recovering. Their dancing, if you would even call it that, was more of them shuffling their feet around the floor. They didn’t care.

Fly me to the moon Let me play among the stars

Slowly, they melted in each other’s embrace. Oh, how easily it was to be lost in the other’s eyes, pools of ruby and sapphire. Secretly, they wished they could be like this forever.

Let me see what spring is like On Jupiter and Mars

In the back of Three’s mind, alarm bells were ringing loudly. It isn’t real. He just wants to be friends. Somehow, Three ignored it all the moment Four gave him a smile.

In other words, hold my hand In other words, darling, kiss me

What Three didn’t know, Four was lost in his own mind. The romanticist that he is, he’s freaking out in the inside like a high school girl. It felt like a scene in the romcom movies he watches. But it was real. Three taught him how to give second chances. Perhaps there was a chance now.

Fill my heart with song Let me sing forevermore

Three ran his fingers on Four’s sleeve. It’s real. He’s real.

You are all I long for All I worship and adore

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

In other words, please be true

His hope.

In other words, I love you

As the song ends, the two came to a stop, but they didn’t part. Once again, they were lost in each other’s world.

SMG3: “…We’ve stopped.”

SMG4: “We did? Then, why is a room still spinning?”

Being so close to the other man, the tension was high. Have courage.

Even then, it wasn’t enough. He’s not your Four. Three cleared his throat, looking away before any temptation got hold of him.

SMG3: “I’m… pretty tired, SMG4.” SMG4: “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” [*reaching to hand Three his cane, hiding his disappointment*] SMG3: “Thanks anyway.” [*walks out the door, preparing to go to bed*]

SMG4 stayed where he stood, his heart skipped a beat. It felt like a dream. He danced with his… Well, ‘friend’ was never the right word for him to label Three. Partner? Maybe.

Crush. Yeah… that sounds about right. Ever since Four was saved by Three, he never looked at their relationship the same way. “Just friends” was the stability for the longest time. The “safe” term. And yet, it was selfish to wish for something more. So much so that Four had dreams of a domestic life with Three. Holding hands, to lean to his touch. To…

Four shook his head. Three didn’t seem ready, or even interested. It was just part of his imagination and nothing more.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

The concrete halls were dark, cold by the touch. All was silent except for the dripping coming from an overhead pipe leak. Light shined through, daring the shadows to confrontation.

They didn’t think they’d be back, but here they were.

Mario, Meggy, and Saiko walked down the abandoned building, remembering their way to a specific room.

Meggy: “We’re getting close, guys. Keep your eyes peeled.” Saiko: “I seriously don’t see the point of us coming back here. Whoever did this is long gone.” Meggy: “Tari was telling me how SMG3 was, and… Look, whoever did this really messed him up. But they must’ve had some big plan for them to involve SMG3 in something. We gotta figure out what it was.” Saiko: “If you think it’s gonna help, fine. Like I said, I’m only here as backup.”

Finding the right door, they entered what was once the simulation room. The group split up and searched for any clues.

Saiko: “Looks like they didn’t come back here.” [*examines the monitor and finds a file of plans in creating the simulation*] Meggy: [*picks up the simulation machinery*] “It’s completely busted. Find anything, Red?” Mario: “No.” [*trips over a hidden box, spilling its contents*] “Ow, my ass.” Meggy: “Are you alright?” Mario: [*rubbing his head*] “Yeah.” [*looks at what he tripped over*] “Hey, I found SMG3’s clothes!” Saiko: “Clothes?”

Indeed, there was a pair of black overalls, a dark blue long-sleeve, and a familiar cap. Meggy picked up the cap, spinning it in her hands. Seeing the “M” emblem, she recognized it immediately. SMG3 wore this getup before the redesigns, and she knew why the “M” was attached.

Meggy: “The Youtube remote. They were trying to make SMG3 into a villain again.”

Mario and Saiko exchanged a glance, seeing the situation at hand. To force Three into a villain again…

Saiko: “You guys get out of here.” Mario and Meggy: “What?” Saiko: “The simulation machinery may be destroyed but it doesn’t mean another one can’t be built.” [*presents the file to them*] “That person’s going to come back and get their things, maybe continue with their plan. They already hurt one of us, it can’t happen again. You guys get out of here, I’ll take care of it.”

Mario and Saiko looked at each other before giving a nod. Saiko was right, the culprit always comes back at the scene of the crime after all. The two left, leaving Saiko alone in the room. She picked up a lighter and lit the file blueprints, watching these plans of cruelty burn to a crisp. She was lucky to buy one of Three’s bombs just for a moment like this. She lit up and ran out, letting the explosive destroy it all. The clothes, the plans. The building itself. Every single bit to a crisp.

No one messes with the Crew. No one.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

“Three?”

SMG3 opens his eyes, widening as he recognizes his surroundings. The white void.

SMG3: [*heavy breathing*] “No, no, no.”

He turned his heel, ready to run, when he was stunned to see…

SMG3: “…SMG4?” SMG4: “God, you really are pathetic.”

Three is left stunned.

SMG4: “I mean, did you really think I had feelings for you? I’m only taking care of you because I feel bad.” [*walks over to Three*] SMG3: “I thought—” SMG4: “Oh, you thought? Please, get a grip on what’s real here.” [*harshly grabbed onto Three’s arm*] Villains don’t get happy endings.” SMG3: “Four, you’re hurting me. Stop it. Just stop!”

Suddenly, Four went limp, starting to fall over.

SMG3: “Four!” [*catching him*]

Three turns Four over to see his face half of it was pixelated, fading away.

SMG4?: “You… couldn’t keep your promise.” SMG3: “No… I… I’m trying. I really am.” Digital SMG4: “I got a chance to live, to experience love of all things.” [*his voice quickly distorting*] “And you ruined it all.” SMG3: “No, it’s not true. It’s not!” Digital Four: “Why, Three? Why did you have to be so cruel?”

In that moment, Four faded away, its code in the wind.

SMG3: “No, no no!”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

SMG3: ”NO!”

Three jolted up from the bed. A hand clutching at his shirt, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Four, who slept right next to his partner, also woke up.

SMG4: “SMG3. Three. It’s okay, that dream isn’t real. It’s not real.” [*his hands gently cradled Three’s face*] “Easy, easy, easy.”

Three finally came to his senses, grounded by Four’s reassurance. His heavy breathing settled until his panic was no more.

SMG4: [*his thumb caresses the other’s cheek*] “See? It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

From the calmness and comfort of his hands, Three leaned into his touch. What he dreamed of, that wasn’t his Four. They stayed like this, the air becoming heavy. Until Three reached to grab Four’s hand from his cheek, but he didn’t shoo the other away.

SMG4: “Three…” SMG3: “I can’t. Sorry…”

SMG4 sighed, once again unable to reach him. But there still had to be a way to help Three.

SMG4: “Hey, do you think you can sleep again?” SMG3: [*shakes his head*] “No.” SMG4: [*gets up from bed and grabs Three’s shoes*] “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Three had no idea where Four was taking him, but here they were: walking through the woods still in their pajamas, in hoodies, and shoes. They weren’t in a rush but Four was seemingly eager to show him this mystery. He looked at Four without the other noticing.

Me, the Crew, everything, it's an exact copy of the real thing.

The Four in the digital world was a mere copy. But even a copy could never show him what he was about to see:

Beyond the woods, there was a field of white flowers. Open to the beautiful stars above. The two sat down and looked at the view.

SMG4: “Whenever I get a nightmare, I always come here. I just happen to stumble over all of this. But it somehow clears my head. Especially after… the ‘perfect’ incident.” [*small chuckle*] “I guess there are some things we can't get over.”

Three looks at him, hanging on to every word.

SMG4: “I care a lot about you, SMG3. More than you could ever realize. But it hurts to see when you’re trying to keep it all together. I know that feeling all too well. I can’t force you to tell me what happened in the simulation, but know that whatever happens, I’ll be here for you.”

Their hands got closer together. Their pinkies touched, they noticed but didn’t show.

SMG3: “I don’t know if you should. All the people I care about don’t stay for long. I’m unlikable, SMG4. I’m a villain and always will be.” SMG4: [*shakes head*] “You’ve changed. Besides, I like you. All of you.” [*their pinkies intertwined*] SMG3: “Four…” SMG4: “No, I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t leave you. Whatever you wish me to be, I will be it. A friend, a partner. Someone you can talk to. Anything.”

The air felt heavy once again, and everything became a blur. The silent wind passed through their hair. Have courage.

SMG3: [*gulping*] “…Then, let me ask: are you real?”

A free hand from Four held the other’s face.

SMG4: [*briefly looking at Three’s lips*] “As real as you want me to be.”

Whatever stopped him several times before, Four cut those ties loose. He leaned forward, his eyes slowly closing. He was patient and ready to see if Three would reject him. But Three didn’t and let Four close the gap.

A soft kiss, it was brief. It was tender. It was real.

Three kissed back, letting the other know he reciprocated. They parted for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.

SMG3: “Then, be true for me.”

They went for a second kiss, this time with passion and longing. This. This cleared every doubt they had before. Their insecurities, whatever held them down. Three wrapped his arms around Four’s neck while other did the same, around Three’s back. If this was a dream, screw it, let them dream. This time, nothing was going to take it away from them.

A single tear rolled down Three's cheek. It's been a while, hasn't it?

SMG3, talking in between kisses: “I love you, Four. I always have.” SMG4, doing the same: “I love you too, Three. I wanted you for so long.” SMG3, parting from kiss: [*laugh*] “Oh? Did you now?” SMG4, turning bright red: “Uh.. c’mon, dude, don’t ruin the moment. It’s not my fault you’re attractive.” SMG3, mischievously leaning to Four: “Really?” SMG4: “Shit.”

Three nuzzled into Four’s neck, kissing all over and leaving Four laughing at how ticklish it was.

SMG4, bursting in laughter: “Three, s-stop!” SMG3, whispered: “Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who thought the same.”

Oh, how wonderful was it to listen to the sounds Four makes.

His shooting star, his sweet prince.

His Four.

After a while, the two catch their breath. They leaned onto each other, held hands, and looked back at the stars.

SMG4: “I promise I’ll be true for you.” [*gave Three's hand a squeeze*] SMG3: [*hums, returning the gesture*] “Well then, I’ll do the same for you.”

Three held many promises, one was to never let Four cry. Now, there was another: to be his truest self.

#smg4 #smg4 smg3 #smg34 #smg43 #smg3 x smg4 #ink episode concepts

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theloveoffootball10 · 2 days ago

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sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ- ᴛ ʜ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ʏ

m a s t e r l i s t

ᴛ ʜ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ʏ

Sprint weekends have never been my favourite. I know some people love them but for me, I prefer the more traditional weekend set up. That being said, I can't complain when Lando is having a good weekend. It could be going better if you ask him but fourth in practice and sprint qualifying then third in the sprint race isn't something to be sniffed at. I watch as he gets out of his car removing his helmet and balaclava from my spot at the back of the garage. I know a lot of the mechanics are used to me being here now but I like to keep out of their way. I'll often talk to Jon but I know he's got a job to do as well.

"Hi baby" feeling Lando wrap his arms around me from behind I melt into his body. Despite the heat of Texas I just want to be close to him.

"You okay? Well done on third place" kissing Lando I run my fingers through his sweaty hair "I know you would've liked first but I'm still proud of you"

"Thanks baby. I had a feeling we'd struggle out there. The Ferrari's are quick this weekend so I think third isn't too bad" it's nice to hear Lando being fairly positive after the sprint. I often think he blames himself when he shouldn't and he's far too critical of his performances on track "can we get out of here? I want to taste you before qualifying"

Lando's words go straight to my core. A few small worlds and I can feel the wetness between my legs starting. I barely nod my head in agreement when I'm practically dragged through the paddock to Lando's drivers room. A few people try to catch him for interviews but he doesn't stop for anyone, only muttering quick apologies as he bumps into them.

"Fuck baby I need you badly" Lando mumbles into my neck as my back hits the now closed door. I feel Lando's hands move agonisingly slow from my waist to my boobs. Letting out a moan into his mouth as I feel his hands cup my boobs before his attention turns to my nipples. His fingers expertly pinching my now erect nipples between his thumb and index finger.

"I love how your body responds to me" Lando whispers in my ear and the only response I can muster is a moan. I've lost all train of thought all I can think about is the way Lando makes me feel.

We both know we don't have long until qualifying especially now Lando has also skipped media he'll have to make up for beforehand as well. I'm pushed onto the small couch and my legs are over Lando's shoulders before I even register what is going on.

"Lando I need you to touch me" lifting my hips for Lando to pull of my underwear I'm almost tempted to touch myself when I feel his tongue. My legs are spread as wide as they will go and Lando holds them open with his massive hands.

Unable to resist, I lace my fingers through Lando's hair tugging gently as I feel his nose run up and down my slip causing me to gasp in surprise. Lando has never done that before but it feels so good.

"Baby you're so wet for me" He strokes his tongue over my wetness giving me long wet licks, his tongue sliding in all of the right places as my grasp on his hair tightens.

"Just for you Lando" I manage to mumble between moans. My legs shiver as the heat build up inside of me. This is going to be another occasion when I climax embarrassingly quick.

"I know you're close baby. Cum for me Lucía" feeling Lando's tongue expertly write his name on my clit I can't hold back much longer. He knows this is what tips me over the edge and he's quick to use it to his advantage.

"Oh fuck, yes!" I moan loudly forgetting the walls of these driver rooms are paper thin. Lando doesn't stop until the wave of my orgasm has passed. His head remains between my legs as he looks up at me, his hazel eyes twinkling and a cheeky grin on his face "that gets better every time"

"I love when you cum after I claim your clit as mine"

“I’m all yours Lando. I know we don’t have long but I want you to fuck me” I say pulling Lando’s black fireproof shirt off and pushing his race suit down his hips. I don’t even need him to take the full thing off.

“You love when I fuck you hard don’t you” Lando says as he takes his hard cock in his hand rubbing the tip up and down my slit and over my clit. The feeling has me clenching around nothing.

“Lando please” I’m so desperate for him at this point, it almost knocks the wind out of me when he thrusts into me hard “fuck yes. Like that Lando. Feels so good”

Lando thrusts his hip frantically chasing his high knowing we’re on limited time. I wrap my legs around him tight holding him as close to me as I can as my hips lift off the bed meeting Lando’s with every thrust. I’m so close to my climax I know I need to hold back and let Lando cum first. I want him to cum first, I’ve already been lucky enough to have an orgasm.

“Lando I need you to cum in me” I breathe out between moans and I clench my muscles around Lando.

“Fuck you feel so tight when you do that” as I feel Lando cum inside of me his hips don’t slow down until he brings me to my second orgasm “you’re amazing Lucía. I love you so much”

“I love you Lando” I pull Lando into a kiss as my breathing slows down knowing he’s got probably five minutes until he has to go “how many people do you think heard us this time?” I ask with a laugh knowing someone is bound to have heard. Neither one of us even try to keep the noise down.

“Definitely Oscar if he’s in his room and probably everyone downstairs” Lando answers with a grin on his face. He doesn’t even care if people hear “I need to go and make it up to these journalists, I’ll see you after quali”

“Good luck babe. You’ll be amazing” with a quick kiss Lando is gone.

Cleaning myself up I get dressed pulling on the clothes Lando quickly pulled off me. I don't think I'll ever get bored of that man. He has media commitments but it doesn't bother me that he's left me straight after sex. This was more of a quick desperate fuck than anything. Believing the coast is clear I walk out of Lando's drivers room and through the paddock where out of the corner of my eye I see my boyfriend in the arms of another girl down the side of a motor home. Fucking Alesha. His arms are around her waist, her fingers tangled in his curls as he holds her against the wall with his hips.

I'm in shock. I don't know what to do. I blink multiple times willing the sight in front of me to disappear but it doesn't. Walking away I don't know how to handle this. I'm so angry. I don't cry I just pace back and forth around the paddock. I'm arguing with myself when to confront Lando. I know I have to because if I don't it will eat away at me until I snap. My best opportunity seems like after qualifying until I see the dickhead laughing and joking with some of his mechanics.

"I didn't want to believe what I've just witnessed was true. I never thought you'd ever do something like that to me. You were supposed to love me and respect me but you go and do that behind my back!" I run my fingers through my hair in frustration willing myself not to cry, instead choosing to raise my voice. I didn't want to do this here in the paddock but I can't hold back any longer. People are beginning to take notice of the commotion but it doesn't deter me.

"Baby please let me explain" I don't even need to tell Lando why I'm angry. He knows he's been caught red handed and can't deny his actions.

"No Lando. I'm not listening to shit excuses. I've always been strong and independent and I'll continue being that without you. It's unbelievable you claim to love me but you cheat on me the second my back is turned" I feel the tears filling my eyes and I know it's a mix of anger, frustration and sadness.

"Look if you just listen to me for ten minutes I promise you I will tell you the truth. This is all ridiculous"

"Don't you fucking dare tell me this is ridiculous. I'm done with you. You're an absolute cunt don't ever speak to me again" I fume as I turn to walk away from Lando when I feel him grab my hand to stop me. Without even realising what I'm doing my hand connects with his cheek with a massive crack. I can't believe I've just done that. Turning away from Lando I go to make my way to the Aston Martin hospitality lounge I see Alesha standing feet away from me "you're welcome to him but ask him where his lips and tongue were a mere 20 minutes before he had them down your throat. Hope you like the taste of my cum"

I'm fucked. I've never raised my hands to anyone in my life and now I dread to think how many people in the paddock saw what just happened including press. I need to get out here right now. Practically running up the stairs I knock until I hear the quiet invite in.

"Papá, he hecho algo estúpido" I say taking a seat in my dads drivers room resting my head in my hands "I've fucked up so bad" it's not until I feel my dad pull me into his arms I break down. The tears fall freely and I don't try to stop them. I'm devastated.

"Lucía breathe and tell me what's happened" my dad tries to calm me down but it doesn't work, I just can't seem to catch my breath. I've never had a panic attack before in my life and I can't believe I'm about to have one over a boy. He's not a man. "Come on princesita breathe with me" I don't know how long it takes but eventually my breathing slows back to normal however my tears don't stop. My dad doesn't push me. It's one of the many things I love about him. He knows I'm hurting and I know he's dying to take off like a bull but he stays by my side.

"I caught Lando cheating on me papá" saying the words out loud makes me want to physically vomit "that slut Alesha who's the F1 TV host. It was fucking minutes after we had sex as well. Oh my god I've just slapped him across the face in the middle of the paddock. Fuck!"

"Cabrón! I'll kill him! How dare he do that to you! He deserves that slap" letting my dad hold me in his arms I cry into his chest. Right now I'm just a lost little girl who needs her dad.

"He promised whatever they had last year was over. He promised me papá" wiping my eyes I try to get my tears under control but it's pointless "I know you have qualifying papá but I need to go home. I need to get out of here I can't stay where he is"

"Anything you need Lucía just tell me. I can have him into a barrier in three seconds flat if you want"

"Please don't compromise yourself papá. I just want to go home and be away from all of this. Away from him. Away from her. I might punch her if I come across her smug face again"

"I wouldn't stop you mi princesa. Stay here and I'll go and arrange your flight with Chelsea"

"Gracias papá. Te amo"

"Yo también te amo" as my dad leaves me in his drivers room the enormity of the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I never in a million years thought this is what my relationship would come to. I need to get out of Texas and as far from formula one as possible.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one smut #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula one #lando #lando smut #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #Lando series

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maryamf1d · 2 days ago

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Bullying

Liam has faced hatred over these past few months for people were convinced that he hated zayn and harry. But how could you hate liam? When he literally helped everyone in the band. Trying to pick up pieces made everyone smile. After the band split apart, he was the one who was left behind. Like you should see that people were there supporting zayn for his new single (never neglecting the fact that people somehow started to hate him as well for leaving why do they do that!) but then many many people supported zayn. Then there was harry, there's a biiiig community of us that doesn't listen to liam, louis, niall or zayn, but harry. So basically Harry's got the biggest support (which obviousleh he deserves and so all of them deserve too). Niall, they all were very excited for niall to release his singles and album. They supported him in a way where it was seen. For louis and liam, the ones who were the best songwriters of the band, had been left behind. I see no support behind liam. I saw no support behind louis until, FITF tour and album. That made me soooo happy I can't define it in words. Now liam had been releasing singles but no one quite noticed because nothing was a banger still saying that it's the lack of support. Not a lot of people like liam now. All the things he had said he's apologized for them. YOU GUYS NO ARROGANT ASS APOLOGIZES FOR ANNNYTHING!!!! Where are you living. Even when they receive hate ok? Even when they receive hate!!! Now honey lemme clear this out I've seen many people on the internet saying bad things about him and saying but they're heartbroken because he wasn't the liam we knew and we lost our childhood. Bro, i definitely am sorry that you lost that and you're allowed to show grief and definitely are allowed to mourn and give condolences. But you are not allowed to talk about things, bad things that he did in the past. Like bb honey, are you guys literally ignoring the fact that this man has been very much upset. And DEPRESSED? Why do you not see that. Makes me furious makes me furious! Because i know what the hell is going through someone's mind when their mental health is slightly compromised. Depression is a thing you can't control. You have no control over how you manage the situation "the liam we used to love is not the liam he became" this statement, this thing defines that there was something that had been going on in his life. Always wonder WHY (helps a lot). I've been studying psychology as a subject and dear friend, i can understand many behaviors that such patient manifest. Now i want you tell me, if someone was a sunshine like liam and becomes someone that you guys paint bad, isn't it obvious he was depressed. Like honestly in this world everyone deserves kind words okay? And people haven't been showing kindness to liam. Everyone literally everyone has said things that they didn't mean to. You don't define a man from his mistakes. And he admitted things that he said were not quite nice so please no asshole has admitted doing wrong. He is the best person. He could've been better. Think of yourself in situations that you were misunderstood. Think of it in a different way please. Please don't hate on him. Because whoever he's left behind are still alive and feeling the pain that you people give through words. You're bullying me, you're bullying his family, you're bullying his friends and bullying his fans. It's not an inner child that mourns to his death, it's everything in us directioners that's mourning. I feel everything you say about him. We all feel everything you say about him. Please stop torturing us and his friends and family. We did nothing wrong to you guys. HE DID NOTHING WRONG TO YOU GUYS.

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ssaemilyhotchner · 2 days ago

Note

Hey congratulations on the milestone 🥳

Can I request letter A 🫶🏻

hope you enjoy & ty for participating! 🌹

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

letter: A | prompt: adrenaline | wc: 2.1k | cw: alcohol, mostly just them making out bc Emily doesn't get her way lol | a/n: Post-ep for 7x15, "A Thin Line."

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

“Prentiss.”

Without looking up from her desk, Emily simply made an unintelligible noise in response.

“Come on, Emily.” Hotch’s voice was gentle yet insistent. He’d been watching her stare blankly at her after-action report for nearly an hour, her leg bouncing rapidly all the while. Idly, he wondered if she’d even be able to bear weight on the leg and found himself moving in a little closer in case he needed to steady her. “I’m taking you home.”

Emily finally raised her gaze to meet his. “I don’t want to go home.”

He nodded knowingly. He had expected as much, knew what the weight of silence in an empty apartment felt like, especially after a case like this one. “Then let’s get a drink. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Emily studied him for a long while: the strength in the set of his jaw, the sharp angle of his body, his hand heavy on the back of her chair. What she really wanted was to be reckless, anything to stave off the dread that had weaseled its way under her skin. Running herself ragged at the gym, maybe, or getting into a fight, or fucking a stranger.

But, she conceded, in lieu of those, there were worse ways to cap the evening than at O’Keefe’s with Hotch.

From the moment they set foot in the bar, their eyes were everywhere but on each other. Even with the bass of the unrecognizable song pounding through them like a heartbeat, silence pressed pointedly between them as Hotch’s mind raced. As he thought about how everything had narrowed to the sight of her emerging from Hilary Ross’s home, blood snaking bright red down her fingers. As he thought about the way fear had dried his mouth, tasting bitter on his tongue.

She had been quick to reassure everyone that she was okay, of course, a demonstration of overcompensation that had only made him more apprehensive. He knew she could feel his eyes on her during their flight home, especially as Morgan had moved to sit by her, clutching her good hand in apology. He had watched Emily’s lips twist teasingly as she once again assured the other man that San Bernardino was not an echo of that warehouse in Boston just a year before.

He had watched as Morgan rose and returned to his previous seat, and Emily’s careful mask crumpled ever so slightly around the edges.

He had watched as her gaze found his and held it, a challenge.

“I’m okay.”

Hotch blinked in surprise; he hadn’t expected she would be the one to broach the topic. He took a long pull of his beer. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

That earned him a trademark Prentiss glare. His lips twitched at the sight, glad her fight wasn’t gone entirely. “I know,” she replied testily.

“Do you? Because your thumb is bleeding from where you’re picking and I don’t think you’ve noticed.” He watched as she snapped back into her body and reached across their small booth for a napkin to staunch the small crescent of blood. “Your first injury in the field since Doyle, and with Morgan as your partner nonetheless,” he said carefully. “What you’re feeling is understandable, Emily.”

“Hotch,” she warned, before downing the rest of her negroni. “Your projecting isn’t exactly making me feel better.”

He raised his hands slightly. “I’m not projecting. I’m just looking out for a friend.”

She knew he was right, of course; no amount of overcompensating could make her do Morgan’s healing for him, but when she closed her eyes, she could still see the all too familiar look on his face as he registered her injury. She didn’t want to be thinking about any of that right now, though, and she certainly didn’t want the play-by-play of her boss profiling her in real time.

Emily grumbled something that sounded a lot like who died and made you my therapist then pushed herself up onto her feet. “I need another drink.”

“I want to dance,” Emily said, several shots later. “And I want you to come with me.”

Hotch frowned pointedly at her sling. “Emily, you need to go home and rest.”

“You’re so serious,” she whined. “Come on, Hotch. Loosen up for a night,” she said with a devious smile. She traced a slender finger around the rim of his glass of whiskey, toying with the idea of getting him another drink—anything to get the tension out of his body. “Please? For me?”

Hotch eyed her pretty pout warily—he had always been a sucker for her doe eyes, and he was beginning to think she knew—then stood and extended his hand. “One dance.”

“Excellent.”

They both knew it wouldn’t just be one.

Emily hummed contently as they moved in tandem to the beat of the music. His touch was light and respectful but warm, and she found herself leaning into it more and more. Inhibitions blissfully lowered, she dropped her fingers to the curve of his arm to trace a vein there, causing his hip to stutter accidentally against hers. Her gaze snapped up to his then, and her heart pounded at the look of obvious want in his eyes. Her resulting smile was beatific.

“What’s making you smile like that?” Hotch murmured, the low thrum of his voice only stoking her need.

“Nothing,” she said sweetly, biting her bottom lip and watching as his eyes flicked down to her mouth, then back up.

He chuckled. “You’re not a very good liar when you’re tipsy.”

“But you have to admit, I’m a pretty good dancer for someone who got shot less than 24 hours ago,” she said brightly, before looping her good arm around his neck and closing the space between them—the space he’d been trying diligently, if not half-heartedly, to keep.

“That you are.”

Fuck, she felt good as she moved against him. He vaguely registered the alarm bells sounding at the back of his mind at the heat building between them, but Hotch couldn’t think beyond the fact that this was Emily and she was in his arms, just like he had wanted for years. Every glance through his blinds at her in the bullpen, every cup of coffee delivered to him with a smile, every swish of her ponytail when they were paired together in the field, all of it building and cooling and culminating here.

“You were right, by the way,” he said eventually. She made a curious noise in response, the sound turning into a giggle at the shiver she pulled from him as her thumb traced mindless little patterns at the very top of his spine. “I was projecting. I didn’t want you to be alone this evening…but I didn’t want to be, either. I needed to see that you were okay.”

Emily looked up at him, besotted, then took his hand in hers and placed it over her chest. He clenched his jaw at the action; he could feel her heart, strong and racing at his touch, and was instantly consumed by the need to find every way he could elevate her heartbeat. To feel her heartbeat at every join of her, every join of them.

“Feel that?” she whispered, cutting through his reverie. “I’m okay.”

He hadn’t meant to kiss her back. Really, he hadn’t.

One minute, they were dancing, their bodies moving in sync as they toed the line of propriety with stolen touches, a nose against a cheek; the next, she was silencing his laugh by pressing her lips to his, rejoicing at the groan that rattled in the back of his throat as he felt her tongue coaxing his mouth open.

Hotch’s grip on her hips tightened, but the taste of gin and campari in her sweet mouth made him channel all of his restraint and pull away. “Emily—”

She moved her lips to the corner of his mouth. “If you even try to stop this,” she whispered, “I will break your jaw.”

Hotch barked out a surprised laugh. “Sweet talker,” he said dryly. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Emily grinned widely. “I like the sound of that.”

As he piled her into the car, Hotch felt a pang of guilt at the victorious expression that had flickered across Emily’s face. He knew what she was craving; she needed a release, she needed him, but no matter how much he wanted the same, he knew he couldn’t follow through. Not tonight.

Finally reaching Emily’s place after much giggling and wandering fingers at stop lights, Hotch watched amusedly as she threw herself onto her couch. “Can I get you anything?” He eyed the Bialetti on her stovetop before sitting down beside her. “Some espresso to sober you up?”

“I’m not drunk,” she countered unconvincingly.

He snorted. “How about a different method? Dave shared a hangover trick with me when I was still fresh out of the Seattle field office. You’d just need amaro, which feels like something Emily Prentiss would keep around.”

She gave a throaty laugh at that and the sound shot straight to his groin. “I do have amaro. You are not the only one Dave has ever plied with expensive alcohol and gotten drunk. But,” she said, holding his gaze, “I don’t want to talk about Dave anymore.”

And at that, she straddled him.

Hotch’s eyes fell shut at the press of Emily’s body against his. There was something about her that triggered the most visceral reactions from him, his throat constricting and chest tightening as her teeth found the shell of his ear, the sensitive spot right below it. Perhaps it was that he had imagined this so many times before: imagined unraveling her carefully constructed exterior and coming undone to her, with her, imagined finding her pulse point with his mouth and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, only now he was actually doing it and she was whining and it was the most exquisite sound he had ever heard.

Emboldened by the sear of his mouth on her neck, Emily reached for him with renewed determination and urgency, fisting a hand in his shirt and making to tug it upwards over his head. It was the jolt to the present that Hotch needed, and he forced himself away, panting heavily. He wanted her to keep going, wanted to feel her, wanted to press his mouth to more of her, cut through her anxiety and adrenaline right to the core of her and make her fly apart; but instead he dropped his face in the curve of her collarbone and left a kiss there. “Emily, you have no idea how hard it is for me to stop you right now,” he ground out, “but we shouldn’t do this tonight.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea how hard you are,” she purred, rocking her hips against his and rejoicing in his resulting whispered fuck. “I want you, Hotch.”

“And I want you, too. I have for years.” Hotch smiled a little at the pretty blush that colored her already ruddy cheeks at his words. “But regardless of how eloquently you protest, I’m going to feel like I’m taking advantage of you right now,” he said as she opened her mouth to interject, “and I don’t want this to be something you regret tomorrow morning.”

Ghosting her lips against his in a barely-there kiss, Emily slowly shook her head. “I could never regret this,” she whispered.

“Please, Emily,” Hotch said a final time, stilling her hand as she tried taking her own shirt off this time. He rose to his feet, Emily still wrapped snugly around him. “Not like this. We need to get you to bed.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time,” she said cheekily; but she followed him obediently, flashing him an inviting smile once she had stretched out across her bed. She watched him hungrily as he raked his gaze over her and swallowed thickly.

Needing the distraction, Hotch slipped away to find ibuprofen and fill her a glass of water. When he returned, she had dressed down and removed her sling, and was staring at him as if he were stupid, but he just shook his head and sat in bed beside her. “You’ve had a really hard day,” he said gently, running a hand through her silky hair. “When the alcohol and adrenaline wear off tomorrow, I’ll be right here, okay?”

“Sometimes I hate that you’re such a good guy,” she said with a concessional sigh; but when she looked at him, all he saw reflected in her gaze was admiration.

Hotch couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. “I’m sorry.”

Emily laughed then, lolling her head to the side to peer at him with tired eyes. “Thanks, Hotch,” she said softly.

“Of course, Emily.”

She was out in a matter of minutes.

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luluy33art · 1 day ago

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Chloe's Second Chance AU

(ik I'm so creative with names)

A 24-year-old Chloe returns to her 13-year-old body a few days before the events of the show

She is a way more mature Chloe who learned from her mistakes after going to therapy (and after being exiled to New York and becoming independent from Audrey)

She considers New York her true home cuz she never felt truly loved in Paris

After getting better, she was able to be friends with Adrien again, but their relationship was never the same

She had many part-time jobs to be able to survive without Audrey's help

WHEN SHE RETURNS

She freaks out the first few hours and desperately searches for a way to come back home, but after calming down a bit, she sees this as an opportunity to apologize, she still looks for a way to come back tho

She want to go back cuz she doesn't want to go through everything with her shitty family again (being humiliated by Audrey, being traded by the parent who thought he loved her for her half-sister who doesn't even share blood with him, being exiled by him...)

Chloé plans to apologize to everyone, but the priority is Marinette (because she was the one she treated the worst) and she decides it with a apology letter. After finishing the letter she receives a message from Adrien

ADRIEN

He thanks Chloé for persuading his father and says if he goes to school, it will be thanks to her. Chloé sends him a message that she is 100% sure that he will succeed. But she also tells him he doesn't need to be with her all the time anymore and suggest to pretend they don't know each other, feeling guilty about his rough start at school bc he was friend with her.

Adrien is confused and thinks Chloé doesn't want to be friends anymore, despite all the messages, Chloe doesn't answer him anymore. Adrien despairs wondering what happened and has deja vu, feeling abandoned again (mommy issues) his determination to go to school becomes 10 times more intense to find out what happened with Chloe

Adrien still helps Fu, but he's more stubborn this time and pushes Nathalie's hand away, which distracts Gorilla so that he can actually go on the first day this time

He hugs Chloé, causing a scene. When asked if they are a couple, Chloé firmly says they are just friends

She said it firmly and without hesitation. Adrien feels a lump in his throat, but he wonders why, obviously they are friends and always have been so why does it feel so painful?

That's because he recently felt for the first time that he could actually lose Chloe, that friend who was there since he was practically born. Added to the fact that he had recently lost another important person (Emilie) makes him become a little possessive of Chloe

...

Cloe: Are you sure? I still feel that it will be difficult for you to get along with the others if they know that you are my friend...

Adrien: As I said I don't need a friend who doesn't like you

....

Marinette: Are you friends with Chloe?

Adrien noticed Marinette's obvious dislike towards her friend, he frowns

A: You know what? Nevermind

He turns around, angry, knowing that Marinette is one of those people he won't become friends with. And Marinette just rolls her eyes

ALYA

Chloé avoids Marinette and is surprised when Alya greets her enthusiastically. Chloé freaks out at the sudden greeting, wondering why Alya is sitting next to her then she realizes the consequences of not fighting for the seat and tries to pair Alya and Marinette, but Alya is more interested in talking about superheroes.

Chloé, a secret superhero fan (influenced by Adrien when he showed her the magical girls in the anime, but since it wasn't appropriate for a daughter of a politician, she repressed that taste, but after being exiled she didn't have to hide it anymore), bonds with Alya over their shared interest.

Chloé feels guilty for taking Marinette's precious friend but decides to keep Alya as her seatmate since Alya is new she doesn't know about all the bad things she did and it's refreshing to have someone who doesn't avoid her or isn't afraid of her

Since Chloe never put the gum, Mari doesn't fall in love with Adrien, but she still doesn't like Adrien cuz he's Chloe's friend

Chloé realizes too late the consequences of not putting the gum (Adrien from the future told her) Chloé has no idea how to fix it and doesn't want to put the gum in again either, but she makes herself believe that maybe it's for the best, it doesn't make their first meeting so unpleasant and surely in the future there will be more opportunities for Mari to fall in love with Adrien! (Adrien told her many of their romantic events)

Obviously mari never fell in love with Adrien

MARINETTE

Marinette receives a letter from Chloé before the first day of school, that letter doesn't let her sleep causing her anxiety.

On the first day, Chloé looks at Marinette sitting in her seat, deliberately avoiding her and passing her by without even looking at her (Mari stares at her expecting her to tease her, but is surprised when she ignores her and wonders if the letter was real, shakes her head dismissing it and "it's probably a trap")

Umbrella scene

Marinette confronts Chloé about the letter, saying what the hell does this mean

Chloé blushes saying that it's an apology letter, but Mari doesn't believe her at all

Chloé assures her that it's not true and begins to explain

C: The reason why I've bothered you so much even more than the others is because I was jealous of you

M: Jealous? But you're Chloe Bourgeois! The girl who has everything!

C: Not everything-she said with a sad smile- you have friends who love and support you and a wonderful family that believes in you. My mom abandoned me when I was 5 and my dad sees me as nothing more than a political tool

Marinette stares at her not knowing what to say

C: I know that's no excuse for everything I put you through and I understand if you don't want to forgive me but you deserve an apology and an explanation. I'm truly sorry Marinette

M: I-I don't know if I can forgive you, I have to think about it

C: Fair, although could you accept my umbrella? My limo is right in front so I won't get wet

Marinette cautiously accepts the umbrella and a clap of thunder sounds at that moment making her heart beat faster causing the umbrella to close suddenly, Chloé laughs before she can help it and apologizes

C: I'm sorry I didn't mean to make fun of you! It was just something very sudden and-

M: Haha it's okay, I admit that it was kind of funny

Cloe smiles at her in relief

C: See you tomorrow Dupain Cheng -she says before getting into the limo-

M: A-aha s-see you, why am I stuttering?

AUDREY

Audrey comes back way more earlier bc of Chloe's new behavior (maybe André asked her for help, but I honestly don't think Audrey will listen to him, although that might just get her interest a little)

So Audrey becomes Style Queen earlier and Marinette is sent by the lucky charm to Master Fu (maybe this happens before Tikki gets sick so it would be the first time she meets the guardian)

Fu doesn't let Marinette choose the holder this time because he doesn't know her as well as in the series, he suddenly remembers when Chloe helped him on the first day of school and tells Marinette that he will choose the new holder of the bee himself

Chloé is very confused as to why the miraculous was found somewhere else, but she doesn't think much about it in order to help LB and CN quickly

Once they win, QB tries to LB returns the Miraculous to LB but LB panics saying not to reveal her identity

QB is very confused and LB explains to her that she has been chosen

QB asks her confused if she doesn't know her identity and LB tells her no. She also asks if this is permanent or temporary. (I don't know if LB knows that, either way, if it's just temporary the Guardian will contact her to return it)

QB agrees and leaves and yes it was temporary (I still don't know how she would return it, maybe Fu disguises himself?)

But Pollen is very sad and tries to convince Fu to make her a permanent hero, flattering her for everything

Pollen: she is the best Queen Bee I have seen, she is very strong, she is very mature for her age, she is very intelligent and cunning, she knows how to do everything (because of her jobs in her past life) (Basically she is Tikki 2.0)

Pollen does this every time a new Akuma appears

Someone gets Akumatized

Pollen: Do you know who could help LB and CN to resolve this quickly? Queen Bee~

Fu is a little tired, but I find it somewhat endearing and also understands that kwamis want to go out more

Relations Situation

Chloe likes LB

Marinette likes Chloe (she's in denial but Tikki knows better)

Adrien likes Chloe

Adrien and Marinette hate each other

LB only sees QB as a good friend

Sabrina hates Alya (explained in kofi)

Chloe sees Adrien as a friend/sibling

Chloe doesn't know LB or CN identities

If you want to know more all the lore is available in my kofi! (I'll probably post there new AU ideas and art in the future so stay tuned ^^)

Cooking a new AU rn

#Chloe's second chance au #chloe bourgeois #chloenette #chlodrien #chlobug #I had to summarize 13 Word pages in this 💀💀#So there are a lot of details that I left out

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