#and i knew i had made them myself and i remember them so vividly they were horrific and i just looked at them and started crying in such a

[lovsome]

i need to vent about SH (tw !!!!!) for a sec in the tags bc i am feeling very overwhelmed sorry

[kyuujo]

↳ thinkin of u <3

↳ sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro x fem!reader (separate) ↳ nsfw(ish) ↳ established relationships, nudes, descriptions of masturbation (fem), “sending them nudes/spicy vids while they’re in public”, slight sexting?, contains crack (sorry i can’t help myself), no explicit sex but lots of allusions to it, language, aged up characters, not proof read :x, my writing

↳ 1k words

↳ tbh i’ve thought about this trope for a long time and finally got the creativity and inspiration to write it! i’m not entirely sure of the quality of this as i’ve never written anything like this before, but i hope it’s still enjoyable! thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy!! <3

“… now that you’ve played alongside japan’s u-20, would you ever reconsider your decision not to join? the people want to know.”

sae sent an icy glare to the reporter across from him; he’d thought he’d made his stance on this vividly clear, but obviously not.

“no.” sae said simply, reveling in the spark of indignation his refusal brought to the man’s eyes.

“well, why not—?”

sae lifted a hand to silence the man when his phone pinged twice — maybe that was rude, but sae had the feeling that whatever had just come through his phone would be a thousand times more entertaining and engaging than the sleaze across from him.

and boy, was sae right.

my wife: seeing you on tv has me all worked up. maybe hurry it along? 😘

my wife: [video attachment]

despite his current surroundings and the many cameras pointed at him, sae opened the attachment — it was a video, one without sound, but the muteness didn’t take away from the sheer tempting nature of it.

you looked so good, back resting against the armrest of the couch and legs spread lazily and slit glistening in the flash of the camera. your fingers teased at your clit lightly, and desire shot through sae’s body as he itched to replace them with his own.

sae didn’t even get halfway through the video before his phone pinged with another message — and then another.

my wife: SAE YOU ARENT SUPPOSED TO LOOK YET

my wife: YOURE ON LIVE TV PUT IT DOWN

sae smirked and gave the reporter a lazy wave before standing.

“my deepest apologies, but i’m cutting this short. i have some other business to attend to.”

sae couldn’t give two shits about the way both the reporter and his pr manager sputtered and desperately attempted to flag him back — his woman was waiting on him at home, and that was far more important.

shidou rarely ever felt bored during matches — but so far, this one had simply been a drag. the opposing team didn’t really offer much of a challenge, and shidou had scored more points off of them than he could justly remember.

by the time half-time rolled around, shidou was seething and sweating, feeling incredibly tense and antsy as he whipped into the locker room.

his teammates knew not to bother him when he was in a dip like this, so they cleared a path for him and avoided eye contact at all costs. if shidou weren’t so frustrated he would have found it amusing.

there was only one thing that may make shidou feel the least bit better — messages from you, something he was guaranteed to find at half-time. a trickle of excitement slithered down his body when he pulled his phone from his locker and plopped down on the nearest bench. his phone read ‘3 unread messages’ when he clicked the screen on.

shidou didn’t think twice about tapping open the chat log between the two of you, a smile instantly gracing his lips at your first message.

babygirl💕: hope your match is going well baby!! i know you’re gonna rock it

babygirl💕: but on the slim to none chance that it may not be, i want to give you some motivation ;)

babygirl💕: [video attachment]

shidou probably should have ensured his sound was off before opening it — but your legs were spread open so deliciously and your fingers were working your cunt at a desperate speed, what was shidou supposed to do? think rationally? tough chance.

lewd moans and whines of “shidouuuuu” filled the locker room and ten pairs of shocked eyes met his. shidou’s cheeks warmed and anger sparked in his chest at the knowledge that now his teammates knew how absolutely angelic you sounded in the throes of pleasure.

all it took was a heavy glare and they were clearing out of the room to give him and your video some privacy.

every single tiny box on the shelf looked exactly the same.

what was he even supposed to get again? he’d read over the front of every box at least three times. pearl, radiant, braided… none of those words rung any bells in his head. what was it you had told him before he left?

“maybe it was the pearl…?” nagi murmured to himself, eyes narrowed as if that would somehow help the answer become more clearer to him. he gingerly grabbed a box and examined it before promptly putting it back on the shelf.

nagi didn’t like to admit defeat, but he’d been perusing this shelf for nearly thirty minutes and still didn’t know shit from shat — he’d have to phone a friend, unfortunately.

nagi slipped his phone from his pocket and was just about to tap open his contacts when his phone pinged with a message; ironically, it was from you.

babycake <3: hurry home love. i’m waiting for you 💕

babycake <3: [image attachment]

nagi’s eyes nearly bugged from his skull when he caught sight of the picture you’d sent him — you, sprawled across the lush queen bed, donning nothing but his freshly washed jersey. if he looked close enough, he could see the faintest tease of your nipples perked up beneath the fabric, and the hem of it fell to your mid thighs, hiding the sweet spot between your legs.

nagi sucked in a breath and clicked off his phone screen, willing his half-hard dick to calm down — at least while he was in the store. with furtive glances down each side of the isle nagi powered his screen on and, while avoiding letting his gaze fall to the tempting picture, typed a quick response.

me: omw. don’t move.

your period wasn’t due for another week, anyway. nagi always had time to figure out the pearl-versus-radiant-versus-braided debacle before then.

i genuinely had so much fun cooking these up! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments and reblogs are not at all required but are much appreciated!! <33

[fanficsformyfaves]

Now, You're Mine

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Possessive!Rhea, Breeding Kink, Hickeys (R Receiving), Choking (R Receiving), Cum-Filled Strap On (R Receiving), Bulge Kink, Mommy Kink

PREFACE: Rhea and Reader were hooking up on and off, but Rhea wanted her all to herself

A/N: Rhea's P.O.V. in Bold and Colored!

Flashback in Italics!

Texts in Bold and Colored!

Some surprise appearances by other WWE Stars!

THIS HAD ME GRIPPING THE SHEETS FOR REAL

Kinda toxic, but eh

RHEA'S P.O.V.

She was all I've ever wanted. From how beautiful she was, to her kind-hearted nature and quick wits, she was nothing short of perfection. I remember the day we met vividly.

I had just gotten done with my match and was grabbing a bite to eat with my friends.

"I'll take-"

"The chicken tenders", I say in unison with Fin and Priest.

The three of us laugh, as Dom shook his head.

"Typical", Priest mocked,

"Hey, I know what I like, alright?", Dom argued.

Snapping the menu closed and handing it back to the waiter.

"I'll be back", I say,

Dismissing myself and heading to the bathroom, but as I did, somebody walks out.

Time came to a sudden halt, as I took in just how beautiful she was. It was as if everyone else disappeared and we were the only people there.

She gives me a shy smile, before walking past me and heading back to her table. My eyes never leaving her, as she took her seat.

YOUR P.O.V.

I immediately walk back to my friends, trying hard to hide my flushed cheeks.

"You good?", Nikki questioned,

"Yeah", I hesitantly answered,

As my gaze fell upon her once more. I couldn't help it, even if I tried. Besides how breathtaking she was, there was just something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was the jet black hair or the tattoos that masked her hands, either way, I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

"What's got you all shy?", Brie questioned,

Taking me out of my head.

"What?"

She turns to try and see what I was looking at and immediately caught on.

"Oh, she's so your type"

"Dear God, please shut up", I pleaded,

"Who?"

It was now Naomi's turn to look and she also began teasing me.

"Oooh", she taunted,

Nudging me.

"Guys, come on. Let's not embarrass her", Nat ceased.

During the time of my friends poking fun at me, she looks over and sends another smile my way. If my heart wasn't racing out of my chest already, it surely was now.

Once we were done with our food and paid the bill, her table was also finishing up their dinner.

"Now's your chance, don't be shy", Nikki egged on,

"Nikki!", I warned in a whisper,

"Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Um, she could hear me?"

"You're really gonna let her go?", she emphasized,

Pointing, when I smack her hand away.

"Keep your hand down!"

"Sorry", she whispered,

"I think you should go for it", Nat chimed in,

"Oh, not you too"

"(Y/N), you've got nothing to lose. She says no and then what?"

"And then I die of embarrassment"

Causing her eyes to roll.

"Look, nothing's gonna happen, if I don't talk to her"

"Exactly. Nothing's gonna happen if you don't talk to her, which I personally think is worse", she retorted.

I take a deep breath, slouching back against the booth chair, when I notice her table begin to gather their things.

"It's now or never, champ", Brie added on.

Was I terrified? Absolutely...but after battling with the anxious chill in the pit of my stomach, I ultimately got up and carefully made my way towards her.

Every step feeling like boulders strung at my feet.

Once I was less than a foot away, I clear my throat in an attempt to catch her attention. She turns around and somehow, she was even more breathtaking up close.

Her eyes reflecting baby blue skies in them, as her lips curled up into a grin.

"Hi", I greeted,

"Hello", she smiles down at me,

"I hope I'm not being too forward, but, I think you're...really beautiful", I struggled,

I knew my face had turned a bright red by the way she eyes my cheeks.

"Do you, now?", she challenged,

"Yeah", I chuckled nervously,

"Well", she began,

Taking my hand inro hers.

"I said the same thing to my mates earlier. You're quite the sight"

My heart was on the verge of giving out.

"What are you doing after this?"

"Um", I say,

Glancing back at my friends, who immediately turned away.

"It seems we have an audience"

"Don't mind them, they're just nosy", I reassured,

Making her laugh to herself.

"I'm not doing anything"

"Perfect", she said,

Gently leading me outside.

We head back to the hotel she was staying at and after letting my friends know where we went, she started up a movie for us.

Let's just say the movie had simply become background noise.

Since then, we'd been hooking up on and off, but in all honesty, I wanted more. Don't get me wrong, what we had was beyond my wildest imaginations, but I often caught myself daydreaming about being more than just 'friends'.

It didn't help, the fact that she fueled these delusions. Intentionally or not.

In those moments, post-sex, there would be a glimmer of softness that made me melt from the inside out. A contrasting difference from how she would usually treat me in bed.

Little gestures she'd do, like playing with my hair till I fell asleep or tracing mindless shapes onto my back. It all just added to the already burdensome weight in my chest.

The longer this went on, the harder it became to keep my feelings at bay. The harder it got to avoid the questions that plagued my mind.

Would she want that too? What if she didn't? Would she get upset and cut me off entirely? I could have all the time in the world and none of it would be enough to find a single answer.

I was planning to just keep my mouth shut and take this secret to my grave...until I heard about Liv. She was Rhea's tag team partner and at first, I didn't think anything of it, till I saw their backstage interview, where she kissed Rhea's cheek.

Alarms immediately went off in my head.

I knew she'd been sleeping up with other people, but to actually see her flirt with someone else was the wakeup call I needed.

I decided to keep my distance for a while and eventually, she caught on. For the last few weeks, I'd been responding less to her texts and have ignored her late night calls all together.

As much as I hated to admit it, I missed her, but I knew I had to hold my ground.

(SUNDAY)

Rhea: Hey

Seen at 5:06 pm

Rhea: I haven't seen you in a while, how's things been?

Seen at 5:25 pm

(MONDAY)

Me: Good, you?

Seen at 9:03 pm

Rhea: Pretty busy lately, aren't you?

Seen at 10:00 pm

But what I think finally made things click for Rhea was when I run into her at Dom's birthday party.

As it was being thrown at her house, I knew to come prepared, so I put on the dress I knew she liked and paired it with the perfect heels. Between my hair, makeup and outfit, I was undoubtedly sure to make some heads turn.

Not even a minute goes by, before Rhea spots me and makes a beeline toward where I stood.

"Ladies", she greets,

As they all nod, before heading inside. She eyes me up and down, before taking a few steps closer.

"(Y/N)", she grins.

I cross my arms over my chest, avoiding her daunting stare.

"Beautiful, as always"

"Thanks"

She goes in for a hug, when I simply brush past her, leaving Rhea undoubtedly confused. For the rest of the night, I stood by, watching my friends get wasted and have the time of their lives.

I, however, was too distracted by Rhea watching me from across the room. The slicked-back hair, the leather top that perfectly showcased her strong arms. I was intoxicated solely by staring at her.

Somewhere in the night, my friends had completely disappeared and I was left on the couch alone.

That was until Sonya took the vacant spot next to me.

"I don't like parties either", she spoke,

Finally ripping my gaze away from Rhea.

"Hey, Sonya"

"You know my name?", her eyebrows meet,

"Yeah, I saw your match with Nikki and John. They invited me to watch"

"Oh, cool, your Nikki's friend. I'm assuming you came with her and Brie?"

"Yup, but...", I say,

Quickly scanning the room.

"I have no idea where they went"

"Well, Brie's probably throwing up the drinks she chugged and Nikki's probably hooking up with Cena upstairs"

"Probably", I chuckled,

Sipping my cocktail.

"But, hey, at least you got me", she joked,

Playfully nudging me.

"At least", I agreed.

"I hope this isn't me coming on too strong, but would you like to dance?"

"Um..."

I go to look back at Rhea and it was almost as if she was trying to communicate with her eyes.

It was now my turn to have fun.

"I'd love to", I turn back to Sonya,

Grabbing her hand and leading her to the dancefloor.

RHEA'S P.O.V.

What the hell was Deville up to and why was (Y/N) reciprocating it? I knew she'd gone almost radio silent lately, but I didn't think it was this serious.

My blood boiled at the sight of Sonya twirling her around, as her eyes raked up and down (Y/N)'s body. Shamelessly staring at what was mine. I knew I had only myself to blame, but I couldn't help but seethe with anger. It should be me grabbing her hips that way. It should be me making her laugh like that.

Had I messed up by not owning up to how I really felt? Yes, but I wasn't going to lose her over that. She was everything I could ever want and I'd be a fool to just let her go.

Having had enough, I shove my drink into Priest's chest and made my way over to them.

"(Y/N). Deville", I address,

Interrupting their laughter.

"Hey, Ripley", Sonya replied,

As I respond with a sarcastic grin.

"I need to talk to you", I address (Y/N),

"I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"(Y/N)", I cut off,

Causing her to be taken aback.

YOUR P.O.V.

I couldn't lie, the stern tone in her voice made my core ache and my knees go weak. I had no choice but to comply.

I follow her through the crowd and up the stairs, till we reach her bedroom at the end of the hall.

As we step inside, she closes the door behind her and leans against it.

"What do you want?", I questioned,

"Don't play dumb with me"

"I'm not", I egged on.

She scoffs, leaning off the door and taking a step towards me.

"Are we really going to do this?"

"I don't know...are we?"

I knew me challenging her was a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. I needed to know once and for all if this was something worth fighting for.

With a mischievous grin, she leans down to whisper in my ear.

"Do you really think Sonya, of all people, can treat you better than I can? Hm? Make you feel as good as I do?"

Her hands creep up to the small of my waist and pulled me in closer. I could feel my knees threatening to give out and was fighting so hard to stop it.

"Or was this all just to get my attention?"

She kisses up my neck and chewed on the lobe of my ear.

"You want me? You've got me"

Like I'd weighed nothing, she picks me up by thighs, causing a surprised gasp to escape me.

"All you had to do was say so"

She then carries me to bed and crawled atop me, kissing and licking up my legs.

"This dress. Fuck", she murmured against my thighs,

Before spreading them apart to discover my glistening core.

"I've barely started and you're already making a mess", she teased,

"Rhea", I whined,

"Yes, darling?"

"Please"

"Please what? You know I like to hear you say it"

I take in a deep breath, before finally locking eyes with her.

"Fuck me"

She smirks once more, before pulling away and walking over to her closet. I carefully observe her every move and once she was done digging through her clothes, she turns around, causing my stomach drops.

She's used straps on me before, but this one was...different.

"I've been saving this for something special, but of course you had to be a brat tonight", she says,

Stopping right before the bed.

"Take my clothes off", she ordered.

I crawl over to her, helping her out of her blazer, before unbuttoning her blouse and pulling her pants down.

Unbeknownst to me, she was already completely naked beneath her clothes. The sight of her exquisite body never failing to drive me crazy.

"My turn"

She pulls my dress off over my head, leaving me in just my stockings.

"No underwear? God, you are a slut"

And without wasting another breath, she pulls me in by my waist, whilst wrapping her lips around my hardened buds.

Desperate moans and whines escaping me as she did so.

"You're so much nicer when Mami's got a hold of you, hm?"

She then pushes me onto my back, before spreading my legs and ripping my fishnets down the middle. She must've sensed my concern, by the way her eyes flickered up to me.

"I'll get you new ones", she reassured,

Before pulling back and securing the toy around her hips.

I was practically drooling from how good she looked. From her inked hand rubbing up and down the dildo, to her insatiable eyes eating me alive, I could've cum right then and there.

"I need you, Mami, please", I pleaded,

Tugging her lips up into a smirk.

"I know you do. Why else would you try so hard to get my attention?", she teased,

Licking the shell of my ear and sending a chill up my spine.

In a flash, she throws my legs around her waist, dragging me in closer, whilst rubbing the tip of the strap against my entrance.

"Let's see if you can keep up"

She thrusts into me in one swift motion, filling me up to the brim and causing a cry to escape past my lips.

Her pace was immediate and rough, like the hand she snaked up my body, before settling around my throat. It felt like I was being split apart in the best way possible. The mixture of the pleasure and pain already causing tears to blur my vision.

"You're fucking mine", she grunted against my shoulder,

"Yes, Mami!", I cried out,

Grabbing her wrist.

With each merciless thrust, my orgasm was nearing faster and faster and I knew it was only a matter of time, till I came undone in her grasp.

"Fuck!", I whined under my moans,

"You're doing so good for me", she licked up my throat,

Reaching down to rub vigorous circles on my clit and yanking a final scream out of me.

"Do it. Cum for Mami", she demanded.

The stars in my eyes were all I saw, before being pushed over the edge.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I feel her hand pull back to squeeze the base of the toy, causing it to spurt out ropes of warm sticky liquid all over my clenching walls.

I let out a surprised gasp, as Rhea chuckled against my neck. She looks back up and smashed her now-smudged lips against my own.

"Now, everyone here knows who you belong to", she teased.

My stomach dropped at the realization.

[sadnymi]

Lovefool p2

[part one] [Mattheo riddle x reader]

Summary: Being the only girl in the group, and now stuck in the middle of nowhere with them, you found myself in a tricky situation. You had to share rooms, and Mattheo, leaving no room for negotiation, insisted that you would share with him. The problem was, there was only one bed. From uncovering feelings to heartbreak, it was a night you wouldn't forget.

Warning: angst,fluff,strong language, hints of smut .

Words:5,5k + Bonus scene.

When we arrived back home, I quickly said goodbye to the boys, avoiding eye contact with all of them. I couldn't bear to see their pity or confusion. I just wanted to escape to the solitude of my room. Once inside, I shut the door and leaned against it, finally allowing myself to break down. Tears streamed down my face as I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest.

There was only one week left before returning to Hogwarts, and I knew I would have to face them—most of all, Mattheo. The thought of seeing him again made my stomach churn. During that week, I waited for him to reach out, to say something, anything, that would make sense of what happened. But he didn’t. The silence from him was deafening, and it drove me insane.

All the other boys sent me messages as usual. Even Blaise, who had been so harsh, reached out, perhaps feeling guilty for his words. But not Mattheo. He ghosted me completely, and the pain was unbearable. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart would leap with hope, only to be crushed when it wasn’t him.

I spent days replaying our time together in my mind, trying to understand what went wrong. Had I misread everything? Was I just another conquest to him? The questions tormented me, and the lack of answers made it worse.

I remember that night vividly. The way he looked at me, the tenderness in his touch, the passion in his kisses—it all felt so real. But now, it seemed like a cruel illusion, a trick my heart played on me.

I tried to distract myself by throwing myself into reading, but every word I read seemed to blur into the memory of him. I’d catch myself staring at the same page for hours, lost in thoughts of his hands on my skin, his whispered words.

By the middle of the week, the weight of his absence was unbearable. I lay in bed, clutching my phone, scrolling through old messages, and torturing myself with his silence. The boys' messages were kind and casual, but they couldn't fill the void Mattheo left.

Enzo’s messages were the most frequent, always checking in on me, making sure I was okay. “Hey, how are you holding up?” he’d text, and I’d force myself to respond with a lie. “I’m fine, thanks,” I’d write back, even though I was anything but fine.

Blaise's messages were surprisingly considerate. “Sorry about the other day. Didn’t mean to upset you,” he’d said. I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with him; he had only voiced what I feared was true.

But Mattheo? Nothing. No calls, no texts, no attempts to explain or apologize. It felt like he had erased me from his life completely.

The pain was relentless, gnawing at me day and night. I felt hollow, like a shell of the person I had been before. I missed his voice, his laughter, the way he made me feel seen and cherished. I missed him so much it hurt to breathe.

The final straw came the night before we were due to return to Hogwarts. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and realized I couldn’t go on like this. I needed to confront him, to demand answers. I couldn’t start the new school year with this weight on my shoulders. I had to face him, even if it meant shattering my heart all over again.

I took a deep breath and picked up my phone, my fingers trembling as I typed out a message. “Mattheo, we need to talk. Please.” I hit send and waited, my heart pounding in my chest. Minutes felt like hours as I watched the screen, praying for a response.

But none came. The silence stretched on, suffocating me, and I knew that no matter what happened, I had to find a way to move forward. With or without him.

I boarded the train with a heavy heart, my eyes scanning the crowded platform. As soon as I found Enzo, I slid into the seat next to him, trying to muster a smile.

“Hi,” I said, glancing briefly at Mattheo, who was sitting across from us.

“Hey,” Mattheo replied, his voice neutral, his gaze avoiding mine.

Theo soon returned, his eyes lighting up when he saw me. “How have you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been okay,” I lied, forcing another smile. Before I could say more, Draco and Blaise joined us, making the compartment feel even more cramped and awkward.

“Hi,” Draco said, his voice soft, his eyes flicking between me and Mattheo. Blaise offered a similar greeting, his usual bravado toned down, as if he sensed the tension.

I tried to lose myself in my book, Emma another Jane Austen novel, hoping it would distract me from the unbearable atmosphere. But I could feel Mattheo’s eyes on me, and each glance was like a dagger to my heart. His stare was intense, and it made concentrating impossible.

“I’m going to say hi to Pansy,” I announced suddenly, grabbing my bag and book. I left the compartment quickly, not giving anyone a chance to respond.

As I walked down the corridor, I realized I couldn’t face Pansy either. She would ask questions, and I had no answers. I turned a corner, only to overhear a group of girls talking animatedly about their exploits.

“Enzo is amazing,” one girl said, giggling. “Blaise too, though he’s a bit too cocky for my taste.”

“Oh, Theo is a sweetheart,” another girl chimed in. “But Mattheo... God, he’s something else.”

My ears pricked up at his name, and I leaned closer, my heart pounding.

“What’s it like with Mattheo?” a third girl asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.

“He’s rough, but in a good way,” the first girl said, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “He barely looked at me, but I didn’t mind. It felt so good. He didn’t kiss me, though, just... did his thing and left.”

My heart pounded as I continued to listen, hiding behind the corner.

"God, I'd do anything to sleep with Mattheo again," the first girl said, her voice filled with a mix of longing and frustration. "But he doesn't sleep with the same girl twice."

"Yeah, he's got a reputation for that," another girl chimed in. "And yet, somehow, they all are so different with her you know??," she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

" Y/N right? What's so special about her anyway?" a third girl asked, her voice filled with venom.

"She's always hanging around them, like she's one of them. I can't understand how she managed to get in their group."

"I bet they all fucked her at some point," the first girl said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Do you think they share her? She's their slut for sure."

"I know right?," another girl agreed, her laughter harsh and cruel. "I mean, how else would she keep their attention? She must be really good in bed."

"Or maybe she just does whatever they want," the third girl added. "So pathetic, really. Always trying to act like she's so special. I bet she’s just a desperate little slut."

My heart pounded as I continued to listen, hiding behind the corner.

"Yeah, spreads her legs for any of them at the drop of a hat," another girl sneered. "She's probably been passed around like a party favor."

"And they act so protective of her," the first girl said with a bitter laugh. "I can't imagine why. What do they see in her?"

"They must be playing some kind of game," the third girl suggested. "Maybe seeing who can screw her over the most."

My heart beat faster and faster, each cruel word piercing deeper. Tears blurred my vision as I stepped away from the corner, desperate to escape their venomous gossip.

The world around me seemed to blur as I walked faster, not caring where I was going, just needing to get away. I collided with a strong chest, and looking up through my tears, I saw Mattheo.

"Why are you crying? “ His voice was sharper than a knife

“Who did this to you?" He asked once more when I didn’t answer his hands gently cupped my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears.

I pulled away, my voice shaking. "I'm not talking to you," I said, the tears flowing freely. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my hand.

"Stop it. Let me go," I demanded, trying to pull free from his grip.

"Not unless I know what got you crying like that," he insisted, his eyes filled with the same loving and caring expression that had once made my heart soar.

I looked away, the pain and confusion overwhelming me. "Just go and ignore me like you have been for the past week, or whatever," I said, my voice bitter. "Pretend I don't exist. You're good at that."

His face fell, looking speechless for a moment. I didn’t wait for him to respond. I pulled away, breaking into a run until I found an empty compartment far away from everyone. I slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the seat, sobbing uncontrollably.

The cruel words of the girls echoed in my mind, mingling with the confusion and heartbreak of Mattheo's unexpected concern. Why did he have to care now, after leaving me in silence for a week?

As the train rumbled on, I curled up on the seat, hugging my knees to my chest. The weight of everything pressed down on me, and I felt utterly alone. I had no answers, only questions that seemed to multiply with each passing moment. Why had he treated me so tenderly, only to disappear? And why did it hurt so much to see that same tenderness now, when I was already so broken?

Why had Mattheo been so different with me? Cause I’m pretty sure I wasn’t imagining that night and from what I heard from those girls it seems like he’s a different person from the one they are talking about .

I had a long time trying to explain to the boys why I suddenly disappeared and never returned. They didn’t look convinced, and their probing questions made it clear they weren’t buying my excuses.

Days passed, and I tried to put some space between me and all of them. It wasn’t easy. Draco cornered me in the common room one evening, his eyes filled with concern. "Something happened," he said, his voice low and insistent. "Tell me what it is."

"I'm fine, Draco. It's just family drama," I lied, my stomach twisting with guilt.

"You’ve been skipping meals and acting different," Theo added, joining us with a frown. "This isn’t like you."

"I told you, it’s family stuff," I insisted, hating how naked I felt under their scrutiny. It was like they could see right through my facade.

"Just...let us help," Draco pleaded, but I shook my head, turning away from their worried gazes.

Over the next few days, I was in a bit of a slump. Not only did I skip meals, but I also skipped more classes than usual. If I could have, I would have skipped the whole week, but unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

I grabbed my bag and walked through the courtyard, I overheard a girl talking loudly to her friends. "She's such a slut," she sneered, and my steps faltered. "I bet she's been with every Slytherin boy."

I stopped, my blood boiling. I turned around and marched over to her, my fists clenched. "What did you say?"

The girl looked taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered. "I said you're a slut. Everyone knows it."

The rage bubbling inside me reached a boiling point. "You think you know me? You think you can talk about me like that? Here’s a newsflash for you: I don’t need your approval or your pathetic opinions.“

Before she could respond, a boy next to her smirked. “Yeah, I’d love to fuck you just like the whole Slytherin boys have. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

I stepped closer, my fists clenched at my sides. "Why don’t you come a bit closer and say that to my face?" I said, my voice trembling with rage.

The crowd that had gathered around us watched with wide eyes and open mouths. "What's wrong?" the girl taunted. "Truth hurts?"

“Do you think it makes you look strong, demeaning someone you don’t even know? Do you think you’re better than me because you can spread lies and gossip? You’re pathetic. You think I care about what you say? The only thing that matters is that I know the truth, and that scares you, doesn’t it? Because deep down, you know you’ll never be anything more than a coward hiding behind cruel words.”

The girl, emboldened by the attention, added, "Your family must be so proud of you. What a disgrace."

"Shut your mouth," I said, stepping closer, my eyes burning with anger. "I don’t care what you think of me, but if you ever talk about my family again, you’ll regret it."

She looked a bit scared but tried to stand her ground. "Or what? You'll hit me? No wonder why your dad left,""

I saw red. I lunged at her, my fist raised, but strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. "Let go!" I yelled, struggling against the hold.

"Not her, not now, love," Mattheo's voice whispered in my ear, calming yet firm. He started to pull me away from the mess, his grip gentle but unyielding.

"Mattheo, let go of me," I insisted, trying to break free.

"Not until you calm down," he replied, his eyes full of concern. "I can't let you get into trouble over this."

He guided me into an empty hallway with a balcony, a secluded spot even the ghosts avoided. I was still shaking with rage, my breathing ragged. "Who do you think you are? Don’t touch me! Stay away!" I shouted, pushing at his chest.

"Just breathe, my love," he murmured, his hands cupping my face gently, thumbs stroking my cheeks. "Breathe with me."

His touch, his voice, started to pierce through the fog of anger. I took a shaky breath, then another, my heartbeat slowly steadying.

"Look at me," he said softly, tilting my chin up so our eyes met. "Every single one who talks bad about you is going to regret it. They’re going to wish they were dead before they ever said a word."

"Why do you act like this?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "You act like you care, like you—" I faltered, trying to find the right words. "Your mixed signals are driving me crazy! You pull me closer just to walk away after."

He looked pained, his eyes searching mine for understanding, but he said nothing.

"Say something!" I pleaded, tears welling up. "Anything!"

Still, he remained silent, and the silence cut deeper than any words ever could.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the rest of the boys appeared. Blaise was the first to speak, his gaze flicking between me and Mattheo. "You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Theo stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "This happened before, didn't it?"

I took a deep breath, nodding again. "Yes."

Draco crossed his arms, his expression softening. "Well, that explains why you were acting distant. You should have told us."

"I didn't know what to say," I admitted, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Enzo's voice was gentle as he asked, "What happened before?"

I glanced at Mattheo, who was watching me with an unreadable expression. I couldn't bear his eyes on me anymore. Looking back at Enzo, I said quietly, "It was on the train."

Their eyes widened as I recounted the overheard conversation, the cruel words that had been said about me, and how it had all culminated in the confrontation just now. Mattheo's gaze never left me, and I knew what he was thinking, but I couldn't deal with it anymore.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I just... I need to go to my dorm. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Enzo stepped forward, his concern evident. "I'll walk you."

I nodded, unable to look at Mattheo as I turned to leave. Enzo fell into step beside me, his presence a small comfort amidst the chaos.

The next day, as I walked into class, I was met with an unexpected wave of greetings and offers of help.

"Hey, need any notes from yesterday?" asked one girl, her smile bright and friendly.

"I saved you a seat," another girl said, gesturing to the spot next to her.

"Do you need a quill? I've got an extra," someone else offered, holding out a shiny new quill.

I looked around, confused by the sudden change in behavior. These were the same people who had ignored me or worse, whispered behind my back just a day ago. Before I could process it, a group of girls approached, all smiles and compliments.

"Your hair looks amazing today," one of them said, her tone overly enthusiastic.

"Yeah, and your shoes are so cute!" another added.

"Thanks," I muttered, bewildered by their sudden interest.

Then, the girl from yesterday's confrontation appeared, looking hesitant. She took a deep breath and stepped closer. "I'm really sorry about what I said yesterday," she began, her voice shaky. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean any of it, and I feel terrible."

I stared at her, trying to make sense of this abrupt apology. "Why are you apologizing now?" I asked, suspicion creeping into my voice.

Before she could respond, I noticed him. The boy who had made that disgusting comment about me the day before. His arm was in a sling, supported by a wooden splint, and his face was a mess of blue and purple bruises. He had a black eye, swollen nearly shut.

"I, uh, fell down the stairs," he mumbled, not meeting my gaze.

I looked between the two of them, realization dawning. My stomach churned, and I felt the sudden urge to get out of there. Grabbing my things, I bolted from the classroom, not stopping until I was far from the castle. I found myself in a hidden garden, a place where I often went to think.

I sat down on the ground, trying to calm my racing heart and catch my breath. I wasn't dumb. I knew what had really happened. I knew who was behind the sudden wave of attention, the apologies, the broken bones. It wasn't hard to piece it together.

Mattheo.

But clarity seemed a distant dream. I leaned back against the tree, closing my eyes, and tried to find a moment of calm amidst the chaos Mattheo had left in his wake.

I stayed in the garden for what felt like hours, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the turmoil. Eventually, I knew I would have to face him, to confront what had happened and what it meant. But for now, I just needed to breathe.

I felt someone approaching and sat beside me. I looked up and met Mattheo’s eyes. He was holding a book in his hand.

I felt someone approaching and sat up, my heart pounding. When I looked up, I met Mattheo’s eyes. He was holding a book in his hand.

"I—I got this for you," he said, his voice soft.

I glanced at the book, then back at him, and took it from his hand. It was Persuasion, another Jane Austen's novels. My heart beat even faster as I muttered a thank you. Then I noticed the blood on his hands, despite his clear attempts to wash it off.

He asked, "What were you reading on the train?"

I stared at him, incredulous. "You’re seriously asking me about my books while having blood on your hands? and probably terrorized the whole school before coming here!" I shouted.

He just smirked. "Are you insane, Mattheo? Seriously, what the hell?" I yelled again.

He raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I told you they were going to regret what they said yesterday, didn't I?"

"I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help," I snapped, trying to walk away, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me back until my back hit the tree.

"I know," he said.

I rolled my eyes and looked away, trapped between his hands on either side of my face and the tree behind me. His closeness was overwhelming.

"You’re insane," I muttered.

"Well, I need to talk to you, and you left me no other choice," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I chuckled sarcastically. "You kidding me? Because as much as I remember, you were the one who left after—" I stammered, my face turning red, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yes, my love, after what?" he asked, smiling even wider.

"After I went down on you? Or when I had my finger deep inside you?" he continued, his voice low and teasing. I put my hands over his mouth, desperate to stop him.

"Oh, Lord, stop," I said, my voice a whisper. He kissed my hand, sending a jolt through me, and I pulled it away quickly, my face burning even more.

"Don’t go shy on me now, love. I’m pretty sure I kissed more intimate parts," he said, leaning closer to whisper in my ear. "I've had your taste on my tongue for weeks."

I tried to hit him in the chest, but he grabbed both my hands with one hand, pinning them above my head.

“Listen,” he said, getting more serious. “Enzo told me about what Blaise said that day.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I really want to know another tale about you with a girl in bed.”

“Another tale?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I looked him in the eyes, my voice trembling with both anger and hurt. “I heard what that girl said on the train. About how good you were in bed, how you liked it rough, just did the job and left with no kisses. She wasn’t even complaining, Mattheo. She said she’d do anything to sleep with you again, but it’s too bad because you don’t sleep with the same girl twice."

“Did she now?” he said, smirking.

“Fuck you, Mattheo,” I said, trying to pull away, but his hold was too strong. “Fuck you so much. I get it. I was delusional to think it was more than a one-time thing for you because you don’t sleep with the same girl twice, you don’t—” My voice cracked, betraying my emotions.

"Did it look like a fucking one-time thing back then, Y/N?" he demanded, sharp and serious. I avoided his gaze, my anger and pain battling inside me.

"Answer," he insisted, his face inches from mine. I looked up at him, the intensity in his eyes making it hard to breathe.

"No," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

"Because it fucking wasn’t," he said. "It wasn’t a simple fuck. I was making love to you, and that freaked the shit out of me." The veins in his neck stood out as he spoke, his eyes blazing.

I blinked, trying to process his words. "So, yes," he continued, his voice lower but no less intense, "what the girl said was right. I’ve fucked other girls like that. Rough, fast, no strings attached. Just getting off and moving on. No kisses, no tenderness, just raw and dirty, didn’t look at them more than I had to.”

My breathing grew heavier as his words sank in.“So, does it look like that now?” he asked, his voice softer but still intense. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed.

“Fucking look at me Y/N,” he commanded, and I looked up at him, shaking my head.

“Every time I look at you, at those lips,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower, “all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you. How much I want to taste you. How much I want you in every way. It’s not just about fucking. It’s about you. Every part of you, that night... you were in my arms, and I managed to sleep. You have no idea how rare that is for me.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, my body responding despite my confusion. I could feel the heat between us, the undeniable pull that had always been there.

I looked at him, standing there, rain-soaked and intense, and the tears kept falling from my eyes.

“And no, I don’t want you to be my friend,” he continued, his voice rising. “I want to hear you moaning my name. I want to have you, all of you. To kiss every inch of you. To make you smile, to see you laugh. To put your happiness above anything because nothing else matters. Nothing but you.”

His words were raw, cutting through the rain and my confusion. The sheer intensity of his confession left me breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the pull, the magnetic force between us, stronger than ever.

“I’ve tried to stay away, to keep my distance,” he went on, his voice breaking slightly. “But every time I see you, it’s like a punch to the gut. I’m fighting a losing battle. I don’t just want you. I need you. In every way possible.”

I stood there, soaked and trembling, unable to speak. His words had stripped me bare, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. The rain continued to pour, a relentless backdrop to his declaration.

“So tell me, do you understand now?” he asked again, his voice softer.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. The truth of his words was undeniable, resonating deep within me. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, and met his gaze.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I understand.”

He reached out, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I will be so good to you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing my skin. “I would do anything for you. I fucked up, and I—”

I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his, cutting him off. For a moment, he was surprised and didn’t kissed me back, I pulled back, looking him in the eye. And as if a dam had broken, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.

He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were soft but insistent, demanding and giving all at once. I felt his hands on my waist, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his hips as he held me against him, the kiss growing more passionate. The rain poured down, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else.

His tongue parted my lips, and I opened to him, the taste of him intoxicating. He kissed me with a fervor that made my head spin, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me tighter against him. I could feel the hard lines of his body, the heat between us almost unbearable.

"Wait," I managed to gasp, pulling back slightly. "The book, the rain—"

"I'll get you a new one," he promised, his voice fierce, breathing heavily against my lips. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling gently until my face tilted up to meet his gaze. Then he kissed me again, more fiercely this time, as if he couldn’t get enough.

I melted into him, my hands clinging to his shoulders as he devoured me. His lips moved over mine with a raw, desperate need, and I responded with equal fervor. The world around us disappeared, the rain, the cold, everything fading away until there was only him, only us.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine. "Come with me," he murmured, his voice a soft plea. "Let's get out of this rain."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest, his hand slipping into mine, and we ran through the rain. We found shelter under a nearby awning, the sudden silence after the roar of the rain almost surreal.

He looked at me, his eyes dark and intense, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. "You're soaked," he said, his voice gentle, as he brushed a strand of wet hair from my face.

"So are you," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips.

"Well, we make a pretty pair then," he teased, his hand settling on my waist.

I laughed, the sound light and carefree, a stark contrast to the storm still raging around us. "We do, don't we?"

His gaze softened, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I've never seen anyone look so beautiful soaking wet."

I rolled my eyes playfully, running a hand through his wet hair. "You're just saying that because you want to kiss me again."

He grinned, leaning in closer. "Maybe. But it's true." His lips hovered over mine, the anticipation making my heart race. "And for the record, I do want to kiss you again. Very much."

"Then what are you waiting for?" I challenged, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn't need any more encouragement. His lips captured mine in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate, his hand tightening on my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the warmth of his body through the wet fabric of our clothes, the contrast to the chill of the rain making my skin tingle.

As the kiss deepened, his free hand slid up my back, tangling in my hair. I moaned softly against his lips, the sound making him groan in response. He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against my skin.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "The things I want to do to you."

My cheeks flushed, and I looked down, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness. "Like what?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I want to make you mine in every possible way," he said, his eyes burning with intensity. "I want to hear you scream my name, to see you come apart in my arms. I want to kiss every inch of you, to make you feel things you've never felt before."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the blush that was spreading across my cheeks. "You're making me blush," I whispered, my voice shaky.

He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Good. I like it when you blush." He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "I like knowing I'm the one making you feel this way."

I closed my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. His words, his touch, everything about him was overwhelming. "You're insufferable," I muttered, but there was no heat in my words, only affection.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. "You love it," he teased, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my neck.

I sighed, my fingers threading through his hair as I leaned into his touch. "Yeah, I do," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I really do."

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Good," he said softly, his hand cupping my face. "Because I'm not letting you go."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the rain. "I don't want you to,".

"So, I really have done it in your Mr. Darcy way, haven't I?" he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I was always jealous of him, when you talked about him like that you know?"

Before I could respond, his mouth was on my neck, kissing and sucking gently, then more insistently. I let out a soft moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Perfect," he said, admiring his handiwork.

I laughed, breathless and flushed. "What was that for?"

He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. "It's for Blaise. Since he loves to ask so much."

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress my smile. "You know he went on a date last night, right?"

"Did he now?" Mattheo replied, his fingers trailing down my arm. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

The possessiveness in his voice sent another thrill through me. "And what if I don't want to be claimed like some trophy?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against mine. "Then I'll just have to work harder to prove I deserve you," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his words seep into me. "You've already proven that," I said softly, kissing him again. "But I wouldn't mind seeing you try."

He laughed, the sound rich and joyful. "Challenge accepted."

We stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the rain a distant memory. His hands roamed over my back, his touch sending sparks of electricity through me. I leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my chest, and knew that this was where I belonged.

"We should get inside," I said, glancing at the castle in the distance. "Before we catch our deaths."

"Right," he agreed, but made no move to let go. "But just one more kiss."

"Just one more," I echoed, leaning up to meet his lips again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Bonus scene ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

As we approached our usual spot, I saw Blaise, Enzo, Theo, Pansy and Draco already seated, with an unfamiliar girl sitting beside Blaise.

I caught Blaise’s curious gaze fixed on my neck. He raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Blaise said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Is that a hickey, Y/N?”

I felt my face heat up, and before I could muster a response, Mattheo leaned forward, his grin turning positively devilish.

“Yes, mate,” Mattheo said smoothly. “It is a hickey.”

Blaise’s eyes widened slightly before he broke into a laugh. “By whom, I wonder?”

Mattheo wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “By me, obviously,” he declared, his voice filled with pride. “Wanted to make sure everyone knows she’s mine.”

I blushed even deeper, but I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Draco looked between us, his grin widening. “Well, it’s about time. I was starting to think you’d never make a move.”

Mattheo chuckled, his hand moving to rest possessively on my waist. “Trust me, I’ve made plenty of moves. Just decided it was time to make it official.”

He winked at me. “Just make sure he treats you right. If not, you know where to find me.”

Mattheo tightened his hold on me, his eyes flashing with a playful warning. “She won’t need to, because I’m going to treat her better than anyone else ever could.”

I laughed, the tension melting away as I leaned into Mattheo’s embrace. “I think I can handle him.”

"So," Pansy said, leaning forward with an impish grin. "Does this mean you're off the market, then?"

"Consider me taken," Mattheo said, his voice firm. "And very happily so."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Tag list :

@heelshiree @hoeforvinniehackerrr @cookiesex115 @mgchaser @mayamonroem @hereticdance @heelshiree @fallingblackveils @cardi-bre91 @sonnderlust @too-efn-old-to-be-here @gemizminee @broadwaybaby123 @howdyhowby@hisparentsgallerryy @sksksksk28

[h2llish]

⁀➷ ˖ tough love

notes ─── we love rollo <3 so this is my contribution to @cloudcountry 's event!

ROLLO FLAMME ─── if you don't care, you're not sure anyone will.

warnings ☆ fluff, some comfort, can be read platonic or romantic, gender neutral, reader is not yuu, playful teasing, lowercase intended, takes place after the event btw

the sky had become dashed with yellows and pinks as the sun began to set, and many of your peers began to retire from the rush of class. you would've liked to join them, but like clockwork, your routine left you climbing the belltower as the time on your watch struck six, with your books abandoned at the bottom for you to come back to. (if anyone stumbled across your belongings, they knew to leave it be, far too used to the routine of you and their president.)

you believe you had come to recognize every miniscule difference in the planks with how often you'd climb them, navigating the corners like your body had memorized every turn. and perhaps it has, since you've been climbing the belltower for more than a year every day to meet him at the top.

"there they are!"

you smiled and tilted your head respectfully as you reached the top of the tower, greeting the gargoyles that lived with the bell. they'd come to recognize your face, knowing you by name, and always waiting for you to reach the top at the same time, every day. ─ you'd only ever been late once, when you hadn't been aware of the quicker passage to the top. but since then, you'd always be there, even when you fell ill with a cold, or found it difficult to walk after a bad bout of food poisoning (specific, perhaps, but it did happen, and yet you still came at the exact time in which you promised you would. even if that did lead you to receiving a long scolding).

one of the gargoyles, who had always been more talkative, and seemed much older compared to the rest, waited to gesture over to the bell, where you could just barely see someone sitting on the other side. "we're especially quiet today."

"is that so." you sighed, gripping the bag on your shoulder with a lazy shrug, nodding at the gargoyle in your thanks.

rollo hardly batted an eye when you took up spot beside him, setting the bag down safely, and leaning back on your hands with an exaggerated sigh. "you know, having to climb all these stairs every day, gets exhausting." you said ─ a jab, you always made sure to poke at him. it was a test, something you've done since you were kids. you'd learned that his reactions to your jokes always told you how he was feeling, how open he was to talk to you.

"then stop climbing every day." he replied, rolling his eyes but not giving you the satisfaction of a glance your way.

you gasped, as dramatic as he'd known you to be, "but this is my time where i have you all to myself! i'm offended you'd say such a thing!"

"you're ridiculous."

"says the guy who is brooding all alone here in a tower." you snickered, and he finally looked at you, sending you a glare. but you hardly felt any anger behind it; at least not at you. ─ the anger you were used to seeing since the incident was always directed elsewhere, stewing, grieving.

"i'm not brooding." he scowled, and you raised your eyebrows, as if challenging that claim.

"sure you're not." you clicked your tongue and grinned.

he was talkative today, expressive ─ a rare occurrence with him. you'd consider it your lucky day if you didn't know he's only ever like this when his guard is down because he's simply too tired to keep it up. he's known you since you were small, you'd been there since the start of it all, and yet he still found it so difficult to relax. ─ you knew why, and you grieved for him when he could not.

he went silent, a scoff his final jab at your teasing, turning his head back out to the city that the bell overlooked, watching over it like a knight to its queen. the same city you can still vividly remember being covered in flickering flowers that drained you of the magic you built up if only to be at his side when he got into the college. ─ you remember being in the dorms, attending to any students who might need your help. and you remember when they started to fall unconscious. you remember looking outside as the flowers spread, until you too, went dark, only to wake sometime later with the mission of finding rollo to make sure he was okay. (he was, and you think you know why.)

"are you hungry?" you asked, crossing your legs and leaning forward.

"no."

"liar." you quickly rebutted, turning your head to him with narrowed eyes, "you didn't eat lunch."

"and how do you know that?"

"i know everything, my dear rollo." ─ you always made sure he was taking care of himself, always there to support even when he remained oblivious to it. you remember making that promise to yourself as a kid, to look out for him when no one else would, when he didn't know how to grieve, and he scowled and cursed at every mage that crossed your sight.

you grabbed the bag at your side and reached into it, pulling out sandwiches and bottles of water, "i brought you something to eat." you held it out to him with a look that told him he had to take it. he did, and he didn't need to say thank you because you knew that when tomorrow comes, he'll have your favorite pastry waiting for you, like he always did when you make sure to care of him where he lacked. "i would've cooked for you, but alas, i simply had no time."

"thank the stars." he sassed, and you would've gasped in surprise if you hadn't been expecting. ─ he really was so talkative today, lucky you.

"we are still sitting at the top of the tower."

"your threats have no effect on me." he scoffed, before taking a bite of the unwrapped sandwich.

you snorted and glared at him with faux annoyance, "see if i ever come back here."

a side glance as he chewed, before he jabbed back, "what happened to having me all to yourself?"

"i can manage."

"you're much too terrible at lying."

he's right, but you think that applies only when it came to your care for him.

and you know it will be the same tomorrow. ─ just as your watch strikes six, when the sky is painted with yellows and pinks as the sun begins to set, and many of your peers begin to retire from the rush of class. and although you would like to join them, you'd still find yourself at the belltower, like clockwork, with your books waiting for you to return to them, and a bag on your shoulder with sandwiches inside because you'd know he'd probably forget to eat lunch. and you'd find something else to jab at him about, to see how he's feeling, and know what he needs you to be.

because you made a promise to care for him, because you're not sure anyone else will.

do not repost, translate, copy, or run my writing through an ai

[stairs-feooff]

An Open Letter to White Emo Kids

When I was thirteen years old, I googled ‘how to be emo.’ The music, the aesthetics, the darkness of it all captivated me. There was transgression there, with boys in makeup and girls who weren’t ashamed to be bisexual. The online emo community on google plus (anyone else remember google plus? Just me?) took me in with open arms. I was allowed to be depressed, I didn’t have to hide my burgeoning sexuality or the starts of my struggle with depression, something I now know was caused by intense amounts of dysphoria and life in an abusive and queerphobic household.

Only, there was one problem. I wasn’t white. 

Certainly, nobody would say they had an issue with me being Latino to my face. Most people in the scene genuinely believed they were not racist. After all, they loved Latino people, they thought the guys in Pierce the Veil were so hot. They appreciated the culture too, sombreros and maracas were the full extent of Mexican culture, right? 

But to be emo, you had to be pale. I remember Onision saying that Black people couldn’t pull off emo, and while everyone I knew talked about how horrible he was for saying that, they all secretly believed it. The emo kids I knew stayed out of the sun, they wore long sleeves to stay whiter and some on the more goth side carried around parasols. It was just part of the gothic, to stay white and dead looking. I hid myself from the sun, my skin tanned quickly and well, we couldn’t have that. 

Every guide on emo aesthetics emphasized stick straight hair. Every emo kid I knew reinforced that idea. I begged my mom for a relaxer, she refused. It was alright, I figured out how to damage my hair well enough on my own. Pete Wentz kept his hair straight, spent his time with a flat iron to press down the curls that made him inpalatable to white suburban teenagers. I could too. The burns, the split ends, the fact that my hair didn’t start to return to its natural texture until I cut several inches off this year, that was the sacrifice kids like me needed to take to come into the scene. If not, you would be made fun of. You’d be compared to Ray Toro, everyone’s favorite ‘princess fro fro.’ He was Puerto Rican, just like me. No one talked about that, beyond whispering it around like a dirty secret. No one acknowledged his pride in his country, mirrored by my own pride instilled in me from my mother. Every piece of him, every feature identifiable as nonwhite was sneered at. His hair, his nose, his lips, the white kids said he was the ugly one because of them. I was too, I suppose. 

That was back in 2014. I remember it vividly, still.

Turn back the clock to the early 1980s. Dischord records has just signed seminal emo group, Rites of Spring. There is change in the humid Washington DC Summer air. A new genre would be born from it, branching from the existing hardcore movement. To say Dischord records created emo would be no exaggeration. Without them, the music all of us in the scene know and love would be nonexistent. Dischord was seminal in the scene, Dischord was also founded by Ian MacKeye, vocalist for Minor Threat and later, Fugazi. 

Minor Threat is not emo in the tradional sense. Musically, it’s similar to punk and hardcore groups of the time, lacking the distinct musical flourishes of MacKeye’s later emo group, Fugazi. Still, Minor Threat helped shape the hardcore scene emo was born from and created the record label that signed Rites of Spring, the first emo band. Fugazi is legendary in first and second wave emo circles, influencing bands like Thursday. MacKeye’s stamp on emo is inescapable, even in the third wave. MacKeye also penned the song: Guilty of Being White. 

Guilty of Being White is a minute of MacKeye complaining about systemic racism - or rather, being blamed for systemic racism. He’s sorry for being white, he’s so so sorry, don’t you feel sorry for him, a white man in the 1980s? Isn’t it horrible that white people are blamed for systemic inequality? Isn’t it horrible that he actually has to put work into allyship with people of color? 

MacKeye says he never meant for the song to seem racist. Surely, the fact that it’s become a favorite of white power groups is a coincidence. 

All that is to say, racism was baked into emo from the very beginning. The label that created the genre was founded by white men with very clear issues with racism, even if they did not see it that way. Pete Wentz flat ironing his Black hair and Tyler Joseph refusing to say he’s influenced by rap aren’t bugs unique to the third wave. Instead, they’re features of the genre. 

Now, I’m not writing this to ‘cancel’ emo. I love emo dearly, I still consider myself emo. It, in every wave, is my favorite genre of music. Rites of Spring, Jawbreaker, My Chemical Romance, these bands have shaped my life like no other. Through emo I have met some of my best friends, white and nonwhite alike. Emo allowed me to express my gender and sexuality freely. Emo changed my life for the better, and it continues to do so. No, I am not writing this to cancel emo, whatever that means. Instead, it is because I love the genre so much that I feel the need to point out its flaws, its shielding and harboring of racism since Dischord herself began. 

They say you should end essays like this with a call to action. Personally, I don’t know what I can say that hasn’t been reiterated a thousand times. Really, what am I supposed to say here? Stop being racist? I, like so many other people of color both in and out of the scene are tired of telling white people to do just that over and over. We are tired of seeing white people stop saying what isn’t acceptable anymore, not due to any sort of active unpacking of white supremacy on their part but simply out of a wish to not be ostracized. I am tired of going to emo spaces outside my friend groups and explaining to white thirty year olds what racism is, over and over and over again ad infinitum. I am tired of seeing white people try and take the lead on discussions of racism, whether it is to rapidly assert ‘im not racist but-‘ or to be on the opposite extreme, to jump the gun and form a dog-eat-dog circus, where the end goal is not to actually form a safe place for people of color but to prove how not racist they are. I am tired of watching white people jump on whatever they can to demonize people of color in the scene. I am tired of watching nuanced conversations about racism and complicitness in racism be overshadowed by people upset their pet white man isn’t going to kiss their other pet white man anymore. I am tired of watching children be called slurs. 

Perhaps my frustration is coming loose. It’s hard to be in the middle of all this and not be frustrated. At this point, I am disillusioned. These conversations are seemingly brought up every month, and yet, there is no systemic change. All I can say is I hope that one day, emo becomes actively hostile to racism and racists. Perhaps being aware that racism has been integral to the scene since the beginning is a good place to start. 

[anadiasmount]

is this real? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: breakup, attempt of a makeup. but you're not here to play around, wanting security, but it doesn't help when jude can't find out what he really wants. is your love really worth the shot?

wc: 2.7 k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: hi! i'm back this is kinda angsty and kinda meh :( i still hope you enjoy and like tho! also I will be starting a small jude series in the upcoming weeks, which I'm super excited about! in the mean time here is this :)

“Hi, buddy. Hi! How’s my big baby?” you say in a gentle voice to the German shepherd who couldn't stop licking your face in excitement, his tail wagging and almost crying. It was a month since you had seen Duke, and it was safe to say he missed you as well. He was a birthday gift from Jude about a year ago, since you had asked for one, and Jude wanted a guard dog when he wasn't home. 

You remember the day vividly since it was during the summer, a few weeks before his season ended, and you had the opportunity to travel with Duke around the holidays you took. Duke was a momma's boy, he wouldn’t ever leave your side no matter what. If Jude was here he would acknowledge him but he refused to leave your side. Duke was the biggest and softest sweetheart, he was so friendly and always so happy, so you wondered how he was after you and Jude split. 

Duke came into your embrace and let you hold him for a good five minutes before you got up and made sure he had his breakfast. You practised a few tricks and rewarded him with treats after. He continued to follow you around as you picked up your suitcases and took them upstairs. He tilted his head to the side confused before he whined and touched your leg, “I'm not going anywhere buddy, at least not yet,” you leaned down and kissed his head. He ran up the stairs and watched as you ragged up the three suitcases. 

Duke layed on the carpet as you went into the closet and began to retrieve your jeans and leggings from the drawer, along with your other skirts and shorts you had. Those all barely fit into one suitcase, having to lay on top of it in order to close it. One task was done but you still had to retrieve the other parts of your stuff. You wanted to make sure no trace of you was left behind. Wanting to leave a blank new canvas for Jude’s life. 

After putting that suitcase in your car, you walked back upstairs and started to take your shirts from the hangers. You never realised just how much clothes you had. Any of the shirts or dresses Jude had gifted you, you set them aside in a different pile in a box labelled “do whatever you want” for Jude to decide. You were being petty but you didn't care, you didn't want anything to do with him anymore, all the jewellery and stuff he gave you went into that box, including that damn promise ring…

“Y/n we need to talk…” Jude sighed, he shifted towards you as you sat on the park bench overlooking the small lake. “What's up? Is everything okay?” you ask, your full attention towards him. Jude covered his face, his breathing becoming uneasy as well as his heart. He wanted to avoid it but when you saw his state, the goosebumps appearing, you knew what he was about to do… it was a sign and you felt it.

“I-I-I wanna break up,” he stuttered, avoiding how you stared shocked with wide eyes at him. You let out a small gasp as tears brimmed your eyes, “But why? Have I done something?” you say shaky. You had the urge to reach over and comfort him, wipe his tears away, and reassure him you were here for him, but now you could just stare at him. Stare at his bloodshot eyes, his eyes completely dark and uneasy. 

“You haven't done a single thing, baby, I have to do this… I'm moving away and I just can’t do long distance, knowing that I'm holding you back. I also want to focus on myself and my career, I can’t let this move go to waste, it's a dream and an opportunity…”

Your gaze averted to the white swans in front of you, watching as they cuddled into each other, and swam away. You said nothing, having difficulty processing his words. It seemed like he made up his mind, and you always said you wouldn't hold him back… but now all you wanted to do was fight for your relationship. Fight for him. “Say something…” Jude said, watching intently as your bottom lip trembled. 

You sniffled and wiped your nose and tears away as you stood up. “What’s there to say… you’ve made up your mind. I’ll just go along with it” You smiled and shrugged upset, turning around and beginning to walk away from him. You heard as Jude shuffled around, and jogged towards you. “Wait wait wait, what do you mean? You have to say something, Y/n!”

“No, I don’t. All I can say is I hope it goes well with you Jude, that you have the best season ever in Madrid… And no, you would’ve not held me back… I know what I want, but now it looks like you're not a part of it,” you avoided his pleading eyes. Your gaze returned back to the white swans who now drifted away from each other. “Don't do this Y/n…” Jude begged, grabbing your chin gently, facing you to him where he had tears running down his face.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Jude. I’ll miss you but I won’t beg for you to stay, hold you back like you say. I’ll respect your decision…” Jude just stared at the girl who he loves to walk away. Jude cursed at himself, jogging to you because he made a mistake, a regret. But it was too late because you quickly disappeared. 

The first few days were rough, you avoided any light or noise, just staring out at the wall in front of you. But you grew angry at yourself and the world. Jude had left you, and everything inside you felt broken. You couldn't shake away the tears anytime you saw him pop into your head. Jude was a constant reminder he would always be there. 

For Jude it was worse, he showed up to training late, spoke only to his brother and mom who grew concerned, and even lost his spot in the starting eleven for their last game. Jude was devastated and without you there, he couldn't piece his life together. Jude wouldn't sleep, especially now that your sweet scent was gone from his pillow and sheets. If someone had asked Jude if this was where he would have been a year ago he would have laughed at their face.  

Jude had come back from a last meeting with his club, he was exhausted and only wanted to sleep. But he was taken back when he saw the house spotless, and it was strange that Duke didn't greet him at the door. But he smelled that sweet scent again, lingering all over the living room and kitchen, were you here?

Jude tried and tried to contact you, asking how you were or what you were doing, but there wasn't any sign of you. He would just watch your stories when you'd post but it looked like you were always with someone… He was beginning to grow frustrated, why couldn't you respond back to him? 

Jude walked up the stairs, seeing the bedroom door you once shared open. He looked around the room and saw different clothes piled everywhere. “No no, this can’t be happening..” Jude said out loud causing you to get startled. You avoided his gaze and whispered a small ‘shit, fuck’. You weren’t expecting him to come so soon home, or was it that you were here for more than you intended to be? Jude’s eyes directed to you, who was standing there looking effortlessly elegant and beautiful, his Y/n…

“I've set all the clothes and stuff you’ve given me in this box… you can do what you please with them, I don’t want it…” you say in a soft tone, cutting the silence from the room. Jude shook his head, still trying to process everything, “This can't be real… There is no way this is happening right now… This is just a dream right.” Jude paced back and forth, a hand on his forehead as he nervously chuckled.

Why was it so difficult to process what you were doing? Why was the image of you packing causing an ache in his chest? Why did it feel like you were packing away every memory and throwing it away? You were packing your stuff away and Jude knew it would be the last time he saw or heard of you. “Jude… Calm down…” you say, just watching as he sits on the bed in denial. “This day was bound to come… We have to move on, you know?” 

“It’ll be okay Jude-”

“No, it won’t. I can’t move on knowing that I still love you and the fact you're here packing everything away is hurting me, Y/n…” Jude stressed, just wanting to feel your comfort, your hands relaxing his tense body and whispering that you would stay. “Jude you broke up with me. I'm giving you space to figure yourself out but you can’t hold onto hope one day things will change. This is what you wanted, no?” you said, testing the waters. 

Jude went silent, unsure of what to say. He wanted to blurt out to stay, to not leave, that he loves you, but he had trouble doing so. Duke stood and came to your side, going between your legs and sitting, he was protecting you, Duke sensed you were feeling sad and recognized you felt like crying. “No, this wasn't what I wanted… I thought if I did what I did, it would benefit both of us but for me, it isn't… Fuck I can’t even drink my coffee without thinking of you there!”

Jude stood up, his height intimidated you as he towered over you, and you became shy and nervous. “I can’t sleep knowing the pain I caused for both of us or the fact your scent isn't in my sheets anymore… I can’t go and pass by the park we visit because it reminds me of you. I can’t help the fact I lost my best friend and girlfriend at the same time because I thought I was doing the right thing in protecting our hearts… Or it's the fact I refuse to let you go because I love you still.”

“Protect us from what exactly? Jude, I thought we were doing fine! We discussed how our relationship would work once you moved to Madrid. I have a year left of uni, graduating early so I can start my career early because that has always been my plan. You wouldn't hold me back from anything, I knew what I was getting myself into when I started dating you… If you had these doubts we could've talked it out, maybe save ourselves from all this!”

“I was scared you would lose interest and get tired of all the back and forth. Scared you would get unhappy knowing that the long distance would affect us both. I wouldn't know how you felt, and you drifting away, us growing apart, I didn't want that,” Jude insists, his hand connecting with your jaw and running his thumb along your cheek. You leaned into his touch, relishing the feeling, and fluttered your eyes closed, a sense of safety and home. 

“In a relationship, there’s stuff we need to sacrifice to make it work, and I was willing to do that because I love you. I want to see you succeed Jude, after all these years, the hard work, and dedication, you deserve this. Which is why I think it's best if we leave things as it is… We’re so used to and wrapped around each other we-”

“No no no, please-”

“You don't know what you want Jude! You pick and decide and live life as it goes! And I can't put myself through that because look at you now, you first claiming you couldn't do long distance and now saying we could work it out. What if two months in you realise it wasn't what you wanted? Are you becoming unhappy and breaking up once again? I refuse to be put through that, be treated like a test or lab rat just for your self-satisfaction. I also deserve to be happy,” you state, frustrated wiping your tears away and stepping back from him. 

Jude knew you were right, he hated it because it meant that now his biggest nightmare was becoming true. You were done, you were just done, you’d be willing to move on. Jude knew you for who you were, a girl who would listen and observe and not comment, but when you talked you spoke to let the message be clear and heard. So hearing this from you was quite humbling. He didn't know what he wanted, he was confused. 

“You’ll meet new people in Spain, this is just the beginning of something exciting and yet scary. Try it out Jude enjoy it, because this depends on how your future will be, around the people you're surrounded with… You never know, you may just find yourself where you should be… And I will always be here for you like I have, but right now it's better if we just focus on ourselves…” you say frowning, your palms sliding against each other to soothe your nerves. 

Jude just let out a breath and cried, his shoulders shaking and lips trembling which caused you to tear up knowing what you said was hurting him. But in all honestly it was the truth, “Come here,” you said, Jude didn't hold back and wrapped his arms around you, his head hiding in the crook of your neck as he let himself be completely vulnerable, holding you tight so he could relish the moment forever. Duke whined and laid his head on your legs, confused. 

Four months later here you were in England, mostly busy at Uni and an internship you managed to get after getting a referral. Duke and you enjoy walks in the morning and sometimes evening, going to dog parks to clear your head. You hate to say it but the breakup had taken a huge toll on you, you refused to admit it though. It was hard to lose the only person who had been there from day one. 

Jude was thriving in Spain, quickly fitting into the team and contributing to many goals and some assists. Best and youngest player, with many nominees to awards, It looked like he was doing better and happy, but you wouldn't know since your messages became less and less through those four months. You hated feeling a bit angry, jealous, and frustrated because he was doing better than you. 

But that would vanish because, at the end of the day, his happiness was yours as well. Even though you were miles apart, there was always something that brought the two of you together, which was Duke. You relished the good memories with Jude and cried to sleep because it wouldn't happen soon again. But a moment of honesty, you had to move on and not hold onto hope he would come back and chase you.

You learned to live with the fact but it was still hard to process. Maybe in another lifetime, you could have what you did with Jude, but for now, you were okay. It might be hard, but if something is worth fighting for, then it will occur, they just needed and required a huge miracle. You might have lost Jude but it meant you could learn from that and become a stronger person. 

Having been invited to an art gallery and museum, you got ready for the evening. Had the patience to complete a perfect blowout, and do your makeup. You also had the chance to wear your new black dress that fit perfectly for the evening. “How do I look Duke?” his head propped up and barked, which made you giggle. 

You turned to face the mirror for one last look, fixing your necklace, hiding the J initial that was still there, and spraying your favourite perfume. Your doorbell rang, and a few knocks were heard as you approached the door. Unbeknownst to you, Jude was on the other side. You opened the door to reveal him. “Jude!” you gasped, Duke coming to your side and shaking his tail when he saw Jude. Jude’s eyes roamed your body, his mouth slightly agape feeling breathless.

“I was hoping we could talk. Can I come in?”

[estapa-edwards]

YOU LOOK GREAT - N. MOLDENHAUER

paring: Nick Moldenhauer x fem! reader

word count: 6.6k

requested? yes - "Sorry for borrowing your clothes" "Dont be. You look great in them" w/ nick moldenhauer

warnings: use of y/n. change of povs. 1st to third

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As I stepped onto the University of Michigan campus, I was filled with excitement and nerves. College was a whole new world, and I was eager to dive into everything it had to offer. Little did I know, one of the most impactful aspects of my college experience would be meeting Nick Moldenhauer.

Nick and I met during freshman orientation. He was a towering figure, with a friendly smile and an easygoing demeanor that instantly put me at ease. We were both assigned to the same dormitory, and as luck would have it, our rooms were just a few doors apart.

​​"Hey there," he greeted with a casual wave, his voice carrying a hint of Midwestern warmth. "You must be Y/N, right? I heard we're practically neighbors."

"Yeah, that's me," I replied, trying to match his easygoing tone. "It's nice to meet you, Nick. Looks like we lucked out with our dorm assignments."

Nick chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Definitely. Who knows, maybe we'll end up being the best of friends."

Little did I know, his words would ring true in the months to come. As we settled into our respective rooms, the proximity of our living quarters made it easy for us to strike up conversations whenever we crossed paths in the hallway or kitchen.

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One evening, as I struggled to navigate the maze of laundry machines in the basement, I bumped into Nick sorting through a pile of clothes.

"Need a hand?" he asked, flashing me a reassuring smile.

I nodded gratefully, relieved to have some company in the otherwise deserted laundry room. As we waited for our loads to finish, we chatted about everything from our hometowns to our favorite sports teams, discovering shared interests and mutual acquaintances along the way.

At first, our interactions were limited to passing hellos in the hallway or brief chats in the communal kitchen. But as the weeks went by, we found ourselves gravitating towards each other more and more.

I vividly remember one chilly October evening when Nick and I found ourselves studying in the common area of our dormitory. With textbooks spread out on the table between us and the soft glow of overhead lights casting a warm ambiance, we delved into a deep conversation about our respective majors.

"So, what made you decide to major in sociology?" Nick asked, genuine curiosity coloring his voice as he flipped through the pages of my textbook.

I shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I've always been fascinated by human behavior and societal dynamics. Plus, I figured it would give me a better understanding of the world around me."

Nick nodded thoughtfully, his blue eyes reflecting the flickering light of the nearby fireplace. "That's cool. I never would've guessed you were interested in that stuff. I always pegged you as more of a science person."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Believe it or not, I actually considered majoring in biology at one point. But sociology just felt like the right fit for me."

Our conversation meandered from topic to topic, spanning everything from our favorite books and movies to our most embarrassing childhood memories. With each passing day, I found myself drawn to Nick's infectious energy and genuine kindness, his presence becoming a source of comfort and joy in the whirlwind of college life.

Before I knew it, our interactions had transitioned from sporadic encounters to regular hangouts. Whether it was grabbing lunch between classes or meeting up for late-night study sessions in the library, Nick and I were practically inseparable.

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One chilly evening, with the soft glow of the library's reading lamps casting a warm ambiance, Nick and I found ourselves huddled together at a secluded study table, surrounded by towering stacks of textbooks and piles of lecture notes. The gentle hum of students whispering and keyboards tapping provided the perfect backdrop for our intense study session.

As I struggled to make sense of the dense sociological theories sprawled across my textbook, I couldn't help but steal glances at Nick, who was engrossed in his own set of notes, his brow furrowed in concentration. His tousled hair caught the dim light just right, casting shadows across his chiseled features, and I couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that stirred within me.

"So, what do you think about this concept?" Nick's voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the task at hand.

I blinked, trying to focus on the page in front of me. "Um, sorry, could you repeat that?" I stammered, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks.

Nick chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I asked what you thought about this concept. You seem pretty lost in thought over there."

I bit my lip, trying to come up with a coherent response. "Honestly, I'm not sure. It's a bit abstract for my liking."

Nick nodded in understanding, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. "Yeah, I get that. Sometimes these theories can feel a bit...out there."

His playful tone sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but meet his gaze head-on, the air between us suddenly charged with tension. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though we were the only two people in the world, lost in our own little bubble of shared laughter and lingering glances.

As the hours slipped by and the library grew quiet around us, I found myself drawn to Nick in a way I couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was the late hour or the adrenaline of exam season, but something about the way he looked at me made my heart race and my palms grow clammy with anticipation.

And as we packed up our belongings and made our way out into the cool night air, I couldn't shake the feeling that our study session had been about so much more than just academic pursuits.

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The anticipation buzzed in the air as I made my way to the University of Michigan hockey arena, the excitement palpable with each step I took. It was game day, and as I navigated through the throngs of enthusiastic fans decked out in maize and blue, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for my friend Nick and the rest of the Wolverines team.

As I settled into my seat, the energy of the crowd enveloped me, filling me with a sense of exhilaration unlike anything I had ever experienced. The stadium lights illuminated the ice rink below, casting a mesmerizing glow over the gleaming surface, and I found myself holding my breath in anticipation of the game to come.

And then, as if on cue, the players burst onto the ice, their skates slicing through the frozen surface with effortless grace. Among them was Nick, clad in his signature jersey and helmet, his eyes focused and determined as he prepared to face off against the opposing team.

I couldn't tear my gaze away as the game unfolded before me, each play more thrilling than the last. From bone-rattling body checks to lightning-fast slap shots, the action was relentless, keeping me on the edge of my seat with every twist and turn.

And through it all, Nick was a force to be reckoned with, his skill and athleticism shining brightly as he darted across the ice, deftly maneuvering the puck with precision and finesse. With each pass and shot, he seemed to defy gravity, his movements fluid and effortless as he propelled the puck towards the opposing team's goal.

As the game reached its climax, with the score tied and the tension mounting, I found myself cheering louder than ever, my heart pounding in time with the thunderous roar of the crowd. And when Nick scored the winning goal in the final seconds of the game, sending the arena into a frenzy of cheers and applause, I couldn't help but leap to my feet in sheer elation.

Amidst the jubilant celebrations that followed, I made my way down to the ice, eager to congratulate Nick on his stellar performance. And as he skated over to greet me, his face flushed with exertion and his eyes shining with excitement, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride for my friend and all that he had accomplished.

"Great game, Nick!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my enthusiasm as I wrapped him in a tight hug.

Nick grinned, his breath coming in short gasps as he returned the embrace. "Thanks, Y/N," he replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’m glad you came.”

Nick's gratitude washed over me like a warm wave, filling me with a sense of contentment that I hadn't realized I was searching for. His words echoed in my mind, each syllable imbued with a depth of emotion that tugged at my heartstrings in the most unexpected way.

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I pulled back slightly to meet Nick's gaze. "Of course, Nick," I replied, my own voice filled with genuine affection. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. You played amazing out there."

Nick's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. "Thanks, Y/N," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "Having you here means a lot to me. It's like having my own personal cheering section."

I laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within me. "Well, consider me your number one fan," I declared, playfully nudging him with my elbow. "I'll be here cheering you on every step of the way."

As we stood there, basking in the afterglow of the game and the warmth of each other's company, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. There was a newfound closeness, an unspoken bond that seemed to transcend the confines of friendship and venture into uncharted territory.

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I fumbled through my pockets, panic rising in my chest as I realized that my dorm key was nowhere to be found. With a sinking feeling, I recalled setting it down on the coffee table in my friend's dorm room across campus earlier that evening. It was already late at night, and the thought of trekking all the way back across campus to retrieve it was daunting, to say the least.

"Shit," I yelled, frustration boiling over as I glanced at my watch, the hands ticking closer and closer to midnight. How could I have been so careless?

Just then, I heard footsteps approaching from down the hall, and before I knew it, Nick appeared in the doorway, concern etched across his features.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with worry as he took in my distressed expression.

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "I forgot my dorm key at Sarah's place across campus," I admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. "And now it's too late to go back and get it."

Nick frowned sympathetically, his brow furrowing in thought. "That sucks," he said, his voice tinged with empathy. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt for inconveniencing him. "I don't want to bother you, Nick," I replied, my voice tinged with regret. "It's my own fault for being so forgetful."

But Nick simply waved off my protests, his expression determined. "Nonsense," he declared, his eyes sparkling with determination."I'm not letting you wander around campus alone in the middle of the night. Besides, my dorm is just down the hall. You can crash on my couch for the night."

I blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected offer. "Are you sure?" I asked, feeling a rush of gratitude wash over me.

Nick nodded, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "Absolutely," he replied, his voice warm and sincere. "Consider it a sleepover. We'll watch some cheesy movies, raid the vending machine for snacks, and before you know it, morning will be here and you can go get your key."

His words filled me with a sense of relief, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for my friend and his unwavering kindness. "Thank you, Nick," I said, my voice soft with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Nick grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You don't have to thank me," he replied, his tone gentle. "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Right," I echoed softly, my voice tinged with gratitude. But beneath the surface, I couldn't help but feel a subtle shift in the air, a flutter of something unfamiliar stirring in the depths of my heart.

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As the movie played in the background, the dim light casting a cozy glow over Nick's dorm room, I couldn't help but notice the oversized hoodie I was wearing. It was soft and warm, the fabric carrying a faint scent of Nick's cologne that enveloped me like a comforting embrace.

"Hey, you're wearing my clothes," Nick remarked with a playful grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he gestured towards the hoodie I had borrowed.

I felt a flush of embarrassment creep up my cheeks as I glanced down at myself, suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Sorry for borrowing your clothes," I murmured, feeling a pang of guilt for invading his personal space.

But Nick simply waved off my apology, his expression warm and reassuring. "Don't be," he replied, his voice gentle. "You look great in them."

His words caught me off guard, sending a rush of warmth flooding through me. In that moment, bathed in the soft glow of the TV and surrounded by the comforting scent of Nick's cologne, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness that went beyond mere friendship.

And as we settled back into the couch, our shoulders brushing against each other in the intimate space, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us, something unspoken and electric that lingered in the air like static electricity.

As the movie wound down and the credits rolled, Nick stretched his arms above his head, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "Well, I think it's about time I hit the hay," he said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Got an early practice tomorrow."

I nodded in understanding, the warmth of the hoodie he lent me providing a sense of comfort as I curled up on the couch. "Yeah, I should probably get some sleep too," I replied, stifling a yawn.

Nick bid me goodnight with a gentle smile before disappearing into his bedroom, leaving me alone in the dimly lit living room. I closed my eyes, hoping to drift off into a peaceful slumber, but as the minutes ticked by, sleep eluded me.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down my spine as a vivid nightmare gripped my subconscious, sending me tumbling into a world of darkness and fear. I jolted awake, my heart pounding in my chest as I struggled to catch my breath, the remnants of the nightmare still haunting me.

Without hesitation, I sprang from the couch and made my way to Nick's bedroom, my pulse racing with a mixture of fear and desperation. I knocked softly on the door, my voice trembling as I called out his name.

"Nick?" I whispered, my hand hovering uncertainly over the doorknob. "Can I come in?"

The door creaked open, revealing Nick's concerned expression as he peered at me from the darkness of his room. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I recounted the terrifying nightmare that had shaken me to the core. Without hesitation, Nick pulled me into his embrace, his arms wrapping around me in a comforting cocoon of warmth and safety.

"It's okay, Y/N," he murmured, his voice soothing and reassuring. "You're safe now. I'm here."

And as we settled into his bed, our bodies pressed close together in the darkness, I couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over me

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As I blinked away the remnants of sleep, the warmth of the bed enveloping me in its comforting embrace, I couldn't shake the feeling of confusion that lingered in the air. Where was I? And why did everything feel so... different?

As I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, it dawned on me—I was in Nick's bed. Memories of the night before flooded back, the nightmare that had shaken me awake, and Nick's comforting presence as he held me close, soothing away my fears.

But as I looked around the room, I realized that I was alone. Nick was nowhere to be seen, leaving me feeling a pang of disappointment and confusion. Had it all been a dream?

Without hesitation, I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I typed out a quick message to my friends, recounting the events of the night before and the unsettling feeling of waking up alone in Nick's bed.

But as I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up, the sound of the front door opening caught my attention, sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Was it Nick? And if so, where had he been all morning?

My heart pounded in my chest as I approached the doorway, the anticipation almost overwhelming. And then, as I stepped into the living room, my eyes widened in surprise at the sight before me.

There, standing in the doorway with a sheepish grin on his face, was Nick. He was clad in a rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair tousled from sleep and a guilty look in his eyes.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, his voice tinged with nervousness. "I, uh, didn't mean to leave you alone this morning. I had to run out for a bit, but I'm back now."

I blinked in confusion, unsure of how to respond to his sudden reappearance. "Oh," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "That's okay. I, uh, was just... surprised to wake up alone."

Nick's expression softened, a hint of regret flickering across his features. "I'm sorry," he said, his tone sincere. "I should've let you know where I was going. I just went to get your key.” 

As Nick's words washed over me, a wave of relief flooded my senses. The tension that had been coiling in my chest loosened, replaced by a sense of gratitude for his thoughtfulness and consideration.

"You went to get my key?" I repeated, my voice tinged with disbelief. "But... why?"

Nick shrugged sheepishly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I know how much you hate running across campus alone, especially at night," he admitted, his tone earnest. "And after everything that happened last night, I just wanted to make sure you didn't have to go through that again."

His words struck a chord deep within me, stirring a swell of emotion that threatened to overwhelm me. Here was Nick, going out of his way to ensure my safety and well-being, even after a night that had undoubtedly left him exhausted and drained.

"Thank you, Nick," I said, my voice soft with emotion. "I... I don't know what to say."

Nick smiled, his eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. "You don't have to say anything," he replied, his tone gentle. "Just knowing that you're safe is enough for me."

Feeling Nick's arms wrap around me, pulling me into a warm embrace, I couldn't help but let out a shaky sigh of relief. His presence was like a comforting anchor in the midst of uncertainty, grounding me and soothing away the lingering traces of fear and doubt.

For a moment, we stood there, locked in a tight embrace, our bodies pressed close together as if seeking solace in each other's warmth. And as I buried my face in Nick's shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, I felt a sense of peace settle over me like a soft blanket.

"Thank you, Nick," I murmured, my voice muffled against his chest. "For everything."

Nick squeezed me tighter, his grip firm and reassuring. "Anytime, Y/N," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "I'll always be here for you."

And in that moment, surrounded by the gentle rhythm of Nick's heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as I had Nick by my side, I would never have to face them alone. With him, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly, unquestionably loved.

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The euphoria of victory pulsed through the air as Nick and his teammates celebrated their triumph on the ice. The cheers of the crowd still echoed in his ears as he made his way through the bustling streets of campus, the adrenaline of the game fueling his every step.

But amidst the jubilant celebrations and congratulatory pats on the back, Nick couldn't shake the feeling of restlessness that gnawed at his insides. Despite the victory, despite the adulation of the fans and the pride of his teammates, there was a sense of emptiness that lingered beneath the surface—a void that seemed impossible to fill.

So, without giving it a second thought, Nick found himself wandering aimlessly through the familiar streets of campus, the cool night air washing over him like a balm for his weary soul. With each step, he felt the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of freedom and exhilaration unlike anything he had ever experienced.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Nick found himself standing before Y/N's doorstep, his heart pounding in his chest as he hesitated for just a moment before reaching out to knock.

The sound of his knuckles rapping against the wood echoed through the stillness of the night, sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. What was he doing here? What had possessed him to seek out Y/N in the dead of night, with no explanation and no plan?

But before he could second-guess himself any further, the door swung open, revealing Y/N's surprised expression as she took in the sight of him standing on her doorstep, breathless and disheveled from the night's festivities.

"Nick?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock. "What are you doing here?"

Nick's throat felt dry as he struggled to find the right words, his mind racing a mile a minute as he searched for an explanation. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I needed to see you."

Y/N's expression softened, a hint of concern flickering across her features. "Are you okay?" she asked, reaching out to gently touch his arm.

Nick nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I think so," he replied, his voice steadier now. "I just... I wanted to be with you." 

As Y/N ushered Nick inside, a surge of tension crackled in the air between them, palpable and electric. There was a raw vulnerability in the way Nick looked at her, his gaze searching hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

"Thanks," Nick muttered, his voice husky with emotion as he stumbled into the warmth of Y/N's apartment. "I appreciate it."

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she guided him to the couch, his movements unsteady and uncertain. She couldn't help but notice the way his hand lingered against hers, the heat of his touch searing her skin even through the fabric of her clothes.

As she settled Nick onto the couch, a flood of conflicting emotions washed over Y/N—concern for his well-being, frustration at his reckless behavior, and a simmering undercurrent of something more, something she couldn't quite put into words.

"Here," she murmured, her voice soft as she handed him a bucket in case he needed it. "You should probably drink some water and try to get some rest."

Nick nodded gratefully, his gaze lingering on Y/N's face for a moment longer than necessary. "Thanks, Y/N," he said, his voice hoarse with gratitude. "You're too good to me."

Y/N forced a smile, her heart twisting with a mixture of longing and regret. "It's no problem," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... try not to make a habit of it, okay?"

Y/N's heart clenched as she watched Nick settle onto the couch, his features softened by the haze of alcohol. She wanted to reach out, to erase the troubled lines from his forehead, but she held herself back, the tension between them too thick to ignore.

"Goodnight, Nick," she murmured, her voice tinged with a mixture of concern and hesitation. "Call out if you need anything, okay?"

Nick nodded, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he mumbled a barely coherent reply. And with a heavy heart, Y/N turned away, retreating to the solitude of her bedroom, where she could grapple with the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume her.

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But just as she was drifting off to sleep, a loud retching sound shattered the silence of the night, sending a jolt of panic coursing through her veins. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Y/N bolted upright, her heart hammering in her chest as she rushed to Nick's side.

"Nick, are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry as she knelt beside him on the couch.

Nick groaned, his face pale and clammy as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I... I think I puked," he admitted, his voice thick with shame.

Y/N's heart went out to him, her own discomfort forgotten in the face of his distress. "It's okay," she reassured him, her voice soft and soothing. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Together, they worked in silence, Y/N fetching cleaning supplies while Nick slumped against the cushions, his face drawn with exhaustion and embarrassment. And as they scrubbed away the evidence of his indiscretion, a quiet understanding passed between them, unspoken but palpable.

"I'm sorry," Nick whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of running water. "I didn't mean to..."

Y/N placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch a silent reassurance that he was not alone. "It's okay," she replied, her voice filled with compassion. "We all make mistakes. What's important is that you're okay."

As Y/N finished cleaning up the mess, she turned to Nick, her expression soft with concern. "Nick, do you want to take a shower?" she asked gently, her voice filled with compassion. "I can go grab you some fresh clothes while you clean up."

Nick nodded weakly, gratitude shining in his eyes as he met her gaze. "That... that would be great," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a reassuring smile, Y/N helped Nick to his feet and guided him towards the bathroom, her hand a steady anchor against his trembling frame. She couldn't help but feel a surge of sympathy for him, his vulnerability tugging at her heartstrings in a way she couldn't quite explain.

"Here, I'll go grab you some clothes," she said, her voice gentle as she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Just take your time in the shower, okay? I'll be right back."

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As Y/N slipped into Nick's dorm room, the air felt charged with anticipation, her heart pounding in her chest with a mixture of nerves and excitement. She had come here with a singular purpose—to retrieve some clothes for Nick—but as she stepped inside, her gaze fell upon something unexpected.

There, sitting on Nick's desk, was a small velvet box, its lid slightly ajar to reveal the glint of polished metal within. Curiosity piqued, Y/N approached the desk, her fingers trembling as she reached out to lift the lid.

And then, as she gazed upon the delicate piece of jewelry nestled within the box, her breath caught in her throat. It was a dahlia pendant, its petals crafted from shimmering silver and adorned with tiny sparkling diamonds. It was exquisite, a breathtaking work of art that seemed to shimmer and dance in the dim light of the room.

As Y/N's eyes fell upon the exquisite dahlia pendant nestled within the box, her breath caught in her throat. The pendant glimmered in the dim light of the room, its delicate petals crafted from shimmering silver and adorned with tiny sparkling diamonds. It was a breathtaking work of art, a testament to Nick's thoughtfulness and attention to detail.

But as quickly as her eyes had landed on the pendant, Y/N felt a pang of guilt wash over her. She had never intended to stumble upon such a personal and intimate gift, and the realization that she had inadvertently invaded Nick's privacy filled her with a sense of unease.

With trembling hands, Y/N carefully closed the lid of the box, her heart heavy with regret. She had no right to pry into Nick's personal affairs, no right to intrude upon the sanctity of his space. And as she turned to leave the room, her mind filled with conflicting emotions, she vowed to keep the discovery to herself, to respect Nick's privacy and his right to keep his secrets.

Y/N reentered the room, her heart still fluttering with the weight of what she had discovered, yet determined to maintain a facade of normalcy. "I got your clothes," she announced softly, holding out the bundle she had retrieved from Nick's closet.

Nick looked up, a grateful smile spreading across his face as he accepted the clothes from her outstretched hand. "Thanks, Y/N," he murmured, his voice hoarse with gratitude.

Y/N returned his smile, though her mind was still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. She couldn't help but steal a glance at the closed box on Nick's desk, the image of the dahlia pendant etched into her memory.

But she quickly pushed aside her curiosity, focusing instead on the task at hand—helping Nick get cleaned up and settled for the night. With practiced ease, she guided him towards the bathroom once more, offering him a reassuring smile as she left him to his privacy.

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As Y/N entered the living room, her steps cautious and tentative, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at her insides. Nick was still there, slumbering peacefully on the couch, his features softened by the light of the morning sun.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N approached him, her heart aching with a mixture of concern and affection. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for leaving him alone on the couch all night, but the events of the previous evening had left her emotionally drained and uncertain of how to proceed.

"Nick?" she murmured softly, reaching out to gently shake his shoulder. "Are you awake?"

Nick stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he blinked up at her in confusion. "Y/N?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "What time is it?"

Y/N checked her phone, noting the time with a furrowed brow. "It's almost noon," she replied, her voice tinged with concern. "You've been asleep for hours."

Nick groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sat up on the couch. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice sheepish. "I must have passed out."

Y/N shook her head, offering him a reassuring smile. "It's okay," she said, her tone gentle. "You needed the rest."

Nick nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "For everything."

Y/N returned his smile, her heart swelling with warmth at the sight of him. "Anytime, Nick," she replied, her voice soft. "Anytime."

As Nick rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Y/N couldn't help but notice the fatigue etched into his features. "You look exhausted," she remarked, her concern deepening. "Did you sleep okay?"

Nick nodded, though there was a hint of hesitation in his response. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I just... I've been feeling a bit off lately."

Y/N's brow furrowed with worry as she took in Nick's weary demeanor. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Nick hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away before meeting hers once more. "It's just... everything feels so overwhelming sometimes," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'm constantly struggling to keep up, to meet everyone's expectations. And... I don't know, I guess I'm just tired of pretending like I have it all together when I really don't."

Y/N's heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Nick's words, the weight of his struggles evident in every syllable. Without hesitation, she wrapped him in a comforting embrace, holding him close as if to shield him from the world's harsh realities.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Nick," she murmured, her voice soft with understanding. "You can be yourself, flaws and all. I'll still be here for you, no matter what."

Nick's shoulders sagged with relief as he leaned into her embrace, the weight of his burdens momentarily lifted in the warmth of her presence. "Thank you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Y/N held him tighter, her own heart swelling with affection for the man who had unwittingly stolen it.

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As Y/N made her way to the arena, her heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. It was the biggest game of the season—a chance for Nick and his teammates to prove themselves before the playoffs—and she was determined to be there to show her support.

The atmosphere inside the arena was electric, the air crackling with energy as the crowd roared with excitement. Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as she watched Nick take to the ice, his determination evident in every stride.

As the game unfolded, Y/N found herself on the edge of her seat, her heart pounding in time with each pass and shot. The tension in the air was palpable, each moment filled with the promise of victory or the threat of defeat.

And then, in the final moments of the game, with the score tied and the clock ticking down, Nick seized his opportunity. With a burst of speed and skill, he maneuvered past the opposing defense, his stick connecting with the puck in a perfect shot that sailed past the goalie and into the back of the net.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game and a hard-fought victory for Nick and his teammates. Y/N couldn't contain her excitement as she joined in the celebration, her heart soaring with pride for the man she had come to care for so deeply.

As the players made their way off the ice, Y/N caught sight of Nick making his way towards her, a triumphant smile on his face. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his joy infectious as he spun her around in a whirl of excitement.

"We did it, Y/N," he exclaimed, his voice filled with elation. "We won!"

Y/N laughed, her own happiness bubbling over as she returned Nick's embrace. "I knew you could do it," she replied, her voice filled with pride. "I'm so proud of you, Nick."

Nick's smile widened at her words, his eyes shining with gratitude and affection. "Thanks, Y/N," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her smile widening as she gazed up at him. There was a warmth in Nick's eyes, a tenderness that spoke volumes without him having to say a word. In that moment, she felt closer to him than ever before, their bond strengthened by the shared experience of victory and celebration.

As the crowd began to thin out and the arena emptied, Nick turned to Y/N with a serious expression, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes. "Y/N, there's something I want to talk to you about," he said, his voice low with intensity. "Something important."

Y/N's curiosity was piqued, her pulse quickening with anticipation. "What is it?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Nick glanced around the nearly empty arena, his expression serious. "Can we talk after I get out of the locker room?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency. "It's... it's something I've been wanting to say for a while now."

Y/N nodded, a sense of excitement tingling in her veins. "Of course," she replied, her heart pounding with anticipation.

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As Y/N waited outside the locker room, her anticipation grew with each passing moment. She couldn't shake the feeling of nervous excitement that coursed through her veins, her heart pounding in her chest as she wondered what Nick wanted to tell her.

Finally, the door swung open, and Nick emerged from the locker room, his expression serious yet determined. Without a word, he gestured for Y/N to follow him, leading her to a quiet corner of the arena away from prying eyes and curious onlookers.

Once they were alone, Nick turned to face Y/N, his gaze searching hers with a mixture of apprehension and longing. "Y/N," he began, his voice soft but filled with emotion. "There's something I need to tell you. Something I should have said a long time ago."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the seriousness in Nick's tone, her pulse quickening with anticipation. "What is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nick took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke. "I love you, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember, and I can't imagine my life without you."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she took in Nick's words, her heart overflowing with emotion. She had waited so long to hear him say those three simple words, and now that he had, she felt like she was floating on air.

"Oh Nick," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I love you too."

Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace as she buried her face in his chest. In that moment, surrounded by the quiet of the empty arena and the warmth of Nick's embrace, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

And then, as they stood there together in the quiet of the arena, Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. With trembling hands, he opened it to reveal the dahlia pendant, its delicate petals gleaming in the dim light.

"I want you to have this," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "As a reminder of my love for you, and everything we've been through together."

Tears streamed down Y/N's cheeks as she reached out to take the pendant, her fingers trembling with emotion. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

Nick smiled, a tender expression on his face as he gently fastened the pendant around Y/N's neck. "Just like you," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

I got a little too carried away when writing this. oh well, who doesnt love moldy

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

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First Chapter

17. 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽

From that moment on, (Y/n) clung to the new arrivant. While Dorian was relieved to know his partner had gotten over his initial dislike for the girl, he wondered what had been the catalyst for this change. The other day, the child had another nightmare. In the middle of the day, she had entered their room and made a beeline for Killian's coffin. The dark haired vampire had comforted her, while Dorian had smiled at the sight fondly. He preferred not to dwell too much on the cause of this positive outcome ; it was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, as they said. Everything was good; everyone was in their place. It was almost perfect.

The girl would turn twelve in two weeks and the next blood moon would be a week after that. He knew Killian probably still planned to leave, but Dorian knew the other vampire well. His dear companion was so predictable. His compassion would make him stay. For their girl. He wouldn’t leave her. The blond just had to find a way to make him stay until the girl's turning.

He gazed out one of the study's windows and observed the silhouette riding on a horse outside in the night. He smiled, resting his chin on his hand as he followed Killian's path with his eyes. The dark haired vampire had always been one for the outdoors, even as a human. He had fascinated Dorian, and still did to this day. He could still vividly remember their first meeting, a memory that would never leave him.

· • —– ٠ ⏳ ٠ —– • ·

Humans, Dorian found, were quite interesting beings; they had this way of living — always in motion — that baffled him. Despite the specter of impermanence hanging over them, humans embraced life with a tenacity that Dorian found intriguing. They indulged in pleasures, sought out joys, and painted their existence with vibrant hues of experiences. It was a paradox that resonated with him on a profound level — the knowledge of an eventual end, yet an unwavering commitment to savoring every fleeting moment. It made him wonder if he had acted the same way once. 

There was a time, one or two forevers ago, when he too had been part of this vibrant dance of life. He had been human, a mere mortal swept up in the currents of time. He didn't remember much of his time as a human; his turning had erased most of his memories. Disappeared in an ember, a burned tableau turned to ashes dissolving in the wind of eternal change, leaving behind a void where his mortal past once thrived. He had started anew as a blank canvas; his own sire abandoning him carelessly only days following his turning.

"Tell me more about yourself, Monsieur de Beauvoir," a voice pierced through his contemplations, and he turned to regard the lady who had initiated the inquiry. Despite his charming smile, her name had already slipped through the crevices of his recollection.

"I am sure there are more interesting discussions than listening to the stories of a man such as myself, milady," he responded in a melodious voice.

The human giggled, as if that had been the funniest joke she had heard. "You are too humble, Duke de Beauvoir," she gushed. "What brought a Frenchman such as yourself to England ?" The lady asked, stepping closer.

 "I merely wished for a change of scenery," he replied vaguely, his tone carrying an air of mystery that only fueled the lady's curiosity.

The lady's words, laced with a hint of flirtation and delivered in a sultry voice, hung in the air like a delicate perfume, enveloping the space between them. "A great reason to make new acquaintances," she insinuated, her gaze locked with Dorian's, her proximity closing the gap between them.

In response, Dorian allowed a playful glint to flicker in his eyes, acknowledging the unspoken invitation. He was always willing to be entertained. He considered the possibility of continuing their exchange in a quieter corner of the palace, away from the prying eyes and curious gazes of the other attendants.

"A great way indeed," added a new person who inserted himself into the conversation, "Charlotte, why don't you introduce me to this fine gentleman ?" 

Dorian, accustomed to the art of captivating an audience, turned around with practiced grace, ready to unleash his signature charming smile. The voice that had interrupted their conversation had piqued his interest, and he welcomed the attention with a subtle anticipation. Among vampires, pride was a prevailing trait, and Dorian, in particular, relished the spotlight. The knowledge that others hung on his every word, that he could control the narrative and reveal only what he wished, provided him with an exhilarating rush.

As he prepared to unveil his charismatic persona, Dorian's poised demeanor faltered ever so slightly at the sight before him. Long wavy auburn hair lazily gracing his shoulders; sharp yet beautiful features and striking hazel eyes. Truly, a sight to behold. True beauty was something hard to come across, yet here it presented itself to him, in such unforeseen circumstances. The mortal put an arm protectively around the lady’s shoulders and Dorian narrowed his eyes slightly, unsure of their bond.

"Brother," Charlotte greeted with warmth, introducing the mysterious man at her side. "This is Duke Dorian de Beauvoir."

Dorian inclined his head with a polite acknowledgment, his charming smile remaining intact. "Bonsoir, it is a pleasure to meet you," he trailed off, trying to catch the name of the stranger.

"Killian," he supplied. "Killian Ambrose-Hart."

"Ambrose," he mused inwardly. An ancient name, steeped in history, meaning Immortal. Everlasting. The serendipity of the encounter was not lost on Dorian. His lips curled up. This must have been fated. Dorian's eyes, still retaining their playful gleam, lingered on Killian for a moment longer. 

"Why don't you join us," the blond suggested, gesturing at an empty seat at their table.

"Brother, sir de Beauvoir is from France," Charlotte informed him. "He was about to tell me more about himself."

"Nothing quite interesting, I'm afraid," he responded a bit dismissively, turning his attention back on the brother who had sat down reluctantly. "London is grand and lively, nothing like what I am used to from France. I would need someone to show me around to get accustomed to the new scenery."

When the other didn't seem to get the hint, the conversation continued, the sister trying to get Dorian's attention while he had been ensnared by the unsuspecting brother. The siblings eventually departed and the blond was left bitter.

Now that Dorian knew he existed, no other man would suffice. The heart wanted what it wanted, and his ? Well, his wanted this elusive human.

· • —– ٠ ⌛️ ٠ —– • ·

"Are you almost done ?" (Y/n)'s modulated voice brought him back to reality.

His eyes landed on her, adorning a magnificent rose red dress that complimented her complexion. She posed on a black chair, elegant and youthful. He looked back at his tableau.

His first and last human portrait of her. Her skin still glowed with colorful warm hues, her eyes lacked any hint of red and her teeth were dull compared to that of vampires. He rarely captured life, but he was willing to make an exception for his child. Soon she would be different. For the better, but nonetheless different.

He wondered how she would react to her turning. He would ensure it would be as painless as he possibly could. This would certainly be a night to remember, and perhaps even the first she would remember. Dorian wondered if like him, she would be among the few who lost their memory of their human life following their turning. He hoped she would. Starting anew with her would be the greatest gift that could be given to him. He could educate and mold her properly; no pesky memories of her parents and her peasant life. She would only know him and Killian.

He turned back towards her. "Not yet, doll," he answered and chuckled as she sighed. "Be patient— and smile."

"Do you often paint ?" She asked, perhaps trying to make the time pass faster.

"For as long as I can remember," he answered. A talent he must had retained from his human life, he supposed. "All paintings on display on this floor were made by me."

"Really ?" She turned around, pointing at one portrait of him and Killian in the room. "Even this one ?"

"Indeed," he confirmed with a smile, then added: "Stop moving, doll."

"Isn't it easier to bring in a painter to paint you and him together ?" (Y/n) asked, settling back into place.

"We tried," he acknowledged, "but we found mine always turned out better."

Painters had this ability of picking up small details most didn't see. Teeth too white, fangs too sharp, skin taking a deathly color. They saw too much. They showed too much. They accentuated it all too much, peeling away the carefully crafted façade created by them. Presenting what wasn’t meant to be shown ; what they didn’t want to be shown.

"They really are pretty," she complimented.

"Thank you," he smiled. "We are almost done."

[gyuriac]

idontwannabemeanymore | i. sae content: don't lose thy self (idk bro i hate summaries) pairings: sae itoshi x fem!reader (implied cz this is like the sequel of my other work Perdiste, but im pretty sure it's not explicitly said so...) notes: ANGST ANGST ANGST (the mc in first fic is using fem pronouns here bcs i cant write them with they/them in this perspective sorry 😓) kinda bad ugh ihatewritersblock ➜ first part

She was like the sun, the way she lit up the whole room by just existing. Her bright visage was enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. They were akin to moths to flame, Sae just can’t stop longing for her.

You knew he only used you for something, for his ego perhaps. Yet you stayed, played stupid whilst he scrolled through her social media right beside you. 

Only smiling, although with spite, when he immediately agreed when you mentioned her name.

They’ve been scolding you, calling him the most vile words that you didn’t even know, berating you for staying with a moron like him. 

Yes, he has ghosted you on multiple occasions, ignored you unless he had something important to say. But despite all of that, it’s still him.

The Sae who had willingly went outside to the heavy storm just to save you from getting sick yet he himself got sick instead.

It hurts, your heart feels like it's been pricked by needles endlessly before getting run over. You wanted to punch him, scream at him for being such a terrible person-but you also wanted to hug him and tell him how it’s okay and you love him.

It’s a mess and you don’t know what to do.

Alcohol is disgusting. Its bitter substance gives the feeling of your throat burning but it also makes your pain go numb. So you drink, and drink, and drink. Desperately trying to forget that he only agreed because you spoke of her name.

Your hand reached for another glass before it was taken away.

“Hey… that’s miiine. Get your own..” you slurred over your words, arms flailing around as you stood up wobbly. 

The culprit only sighed. “This is your fourth glass, you ought to be responsible and sober yourself up.” He scolded you before bringing the alcohol to his lips before drinking it all in one gulp. His nose crinkled in disgust before shoving the empty glass at the bartender.

You scowled at the sentiment, letting your head rest on the table. “What do you know?” you mumbled quietly while you stretched your arm for another glass.

Despite the loud buzzing like crazy with music and people, he still managed to hear you somehow. 

“I know that you look stupid downing alcohol like it’s water.” He gripped the new glass from your hands. Even though you’re so drunk that you can’t tell your lefts to your rights, disappointment was clearly exuding from him. So you find yourself pouting, Your gaze rose to his face from his hands ; his cyan eyes, full of irritation, dared you to argue back to him.

Rin Itoshi was never a fan of yours. You can vividly remember him tugging on your hair while playing in the sand pit and then you crying before getting comforted by the red head back then.

You stared at him, examining his features, while he asked the bartender for water. It was unsettling, you don’t remember him being able to drink legally nor being taller than you. Your eyes ended up on his sharp cheekbones replacing the once soft chubby cheeks and it hit you how much everything changed.

Sae wasn’t that boy who won’t eat his lunch unless you're with him, he wasn’t-

“Sae! My man!”

Perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, you bolted upright, turning your heel. The confused calling of your name fell deaf in your ears. All you thought was him and only him.

One more time.

If he looks you in the eyes, you’ll stay.

“Sae!” His name slipped from your tongue naturally, like it was just made for his name-him.

“I’m glad you came! It was such a pain managing by myself, thank the gods Rin was here!”

Please,

“How was your practice today? Any improvements lately?”

look at me…

His eyes lingered on your lips for a bit before a call of a name sliced through the whole crowd albeit quite muffled yet you swore Sae’s whole visage lit up like he was just saved from drowning.

And you smiled, tears welling up as you bit your lips hard.

Because no matter what you do to change to yourself, you will never be her. You will never be the one he calls first when he’s drunk nor will you be the one always on his mind.

“I’m sorry.” you murmured, breathing heavily while trying to gather your bearings. He raised his eyebrows, gears not turning in his head. 

With shaky hands, you linked your arms around him, face buried on his neck. Inhaling his musky scent one last time

“I love you so much.” 

Your voice came out as croaky, pulling away from him. 

Your hands found its way to his hair, ruffling his hair roughly that the gel failed to hold its shape. Just as you thought, he looked better this way.

You turned away from him; from your world. You can’t look at him, not when his cold gaze is enough to break your already fragile resolve like glass.

“So…I…” It’s hard to find your words, not when your tears are spilling at this point. Trying to calm yourself with shaky breaths.

You cleared your throat, hands desperately finding something to hold on. “I forgot to do something at home.”

You love him. That’s why you’ll leave him—let him be free of you to pursue her back.

“I’m not coming back, enjoy your night.” 

Like heavy rocks were chained on your feet, it took all of you just to take the first step. A heavy exhale left your lips before you started your stride.

It started slow at first, like a hatchling taking its first step before it hastened.

Because you love him, you wished—prayed even that for once he’ll pick you. Grab your arm, and finally look at you.

© gyuriac . i'm begging you to not put my works in any a.i thingy and please don't plagiarize. I don't own anything but my edits and writing.

[ladyofthebears]

To add this this whole Jace discourse I just want to say this:

I am the result of an affair my grandmother had with a native american man whilst my pappy, who raised me, was in Vietnam during the war.

As a white passing mixed kid, i was not called names often. I was looked down on, i was treated like an outsider in my own family, sneered at with whispers spread behind my and my brother’s backs.

I have been called a mongrel only a few times but i vividly remember the first time it happened.

I was small enough that my brothers could still trick me into thinking i was adopted because of my pale skin and light hair. After a family gathering (of my Pappys side of the family), i asked how everyone in the family knew we were our father’s children immediately.

My brother smiled very sardonically at me and sprouted something about him and our other brother sticking out like sore thumbs. I was confused, because they knew i was my father’s daughter as well, despite how i looked. I asked why they ignored us and were mean and looked at us like grandma looked at the dead snakes in her garden. He laughed at me and said

“Guess life is just harder for filthy mongrels like us”

I remember that phrase so vividly. And maybe my brother meant it to be joking, but those words stuck with me for years. Stuck with me through puberty when i wore even PALER foundation and put blonde streaks in my hair. Stuck with me as i grew up further in a racist religion that specifically makes indigenous people out to be evil. I remembered it when i finally started interacting with more native people in college to reconnect, remembered it when a white girl told me that “if i wanted to be taken seriously as an Indian i should dye my hair black and start tanning”

Those words have haunted me for a long time and they have only helped to make me despise myself and how I came to be.

I hate being stuck between two things- i hate looking white and having all the unfairly given privilege it grants me over my brother. I hate how i am seen as a pretendian for trying to interact with my culture. I hate knowing i can never get tribal affiliation because of the affair.

I know i have immense privilege because of how i look, but those words still haunt me. Because at the end of the day, thats how i see myself at my lowest moments.

I know that on twitter there is major discourse about Jaces words and actions.

And while yes, this is a fictional show, Jaces struggle is one i am intimately attuned to. I said things and did things i regret looking back out of anger for my own situation, i acted in immature and childish ways. But at the end of the day, i can look back and recognise that because i lived through it, and grew through it. I was constantly confused and hurt and torn between differing worlds and families and peoples and it took me a long long time to come to peace with it.

I am still not fully at peace with it.

So- while you may criticise the writing all you want, please realise that Jaces hurt and anger are feelings that can be very very real for some people. Jace, is obviously a fictional character who doesnt have real world feelings. But your mutuals, the people who see your post on discover page are, and your words about a fictional character can hurt them too.

I am not saying mince your words and center your world around sensitive snowflakes- i am saying, have some empathy- even if it is for a stupid fictional character. Because maybe along the way, you can find empathy for other real world people too.

These were the kids that were made to feel like dirty mongrels.

[99hook]

Personal Photographer

Synopsis: he wants to vividly remember what you look like when you’re coming undone for him

18+ it’s nothing but smut and tooth aching sweet shit cause I couldn’t help myself lmao

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, dirty talk, picture taking in the act (if that’s even a warning idk)

A/N:This is one of the ones you all collectively pitched concepts and ideas on and I just ran with it! Enjoy babes! Keep an eye out for your requests over the next few days and lmk if you wanna be tagged! 🫶🏼

Tyler always took pictures for you when you couldn’t be with him. Everywhere he went, he made sure he brought that camera and snapped some shots of places or things you would’ve loved to see. It was also a good way for him to remember where to take you when he gets some time off. At this point, he has certain places he wants you to see all across the country.

“You’ll love this place.” He shows you the picture of a beach he checked out. “The water was so clear and blue. I know you don’t wanna get in unless you can see what’s around you, so we’ll have to go there one day too.”

You smiled as you raked your fingers through his hair, and he mindlessly rubbed your legs that were stretched out across his lap. You leaned your head against his shoulder and placed a single kiss to it.

“Missed you so much.” You whispered against his skin. He glanced down at you, cheeks a tad bit rosier than usual before he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pushed some hair off of your shoulder and placed a series of hot, wet kisses down the side of your neck before he set the camera down and picked you up, taking you to the bedroom.

“I’ll show you the rest later. We have lost time to make up for right now.”

He’d only been gone for five days but it felt like eternity for both of you. He really wanted to take things slow tonight, but there was a neediness taking over that he couldn’t control. As much as he wanted to make slow, sweet love, the look of you laying underneath him wearing nothing but his t-shirt and panties was simply driving him wild.

He hovered over you letting his eyes roam. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. You know that?”

The shade of your cheeks deepened and he smirked at how shy you still got when he complimented you. It was his goal to make sure you always knew how beautiful you are to him, and make sure you wholeheartedly believed it, too.

He leaned down and placed a tender kiss to your lips, letting them linger for a moment. He felt your hands roam his back, nails gently digging into his skin, and a sly smirk formed on his lips when he picked up on your own neediness for him. As always, it was mutual.

The tips of your noses brushed before your lips connected again, this time far more intense and fueled by the desperation for each other. One of his hands cupped your jaw while the other one roamed down to the hem of your (his) shirt, sliding up your thigh until he found a drenched spot on your panties.

You felt him smile against you and let a little chuckle slip. He already knew the affect he had on you but it was always appreciated when he could physically feel it without even trying.

Your breath hitched in your throat when he used his middle finger to push your panties aside. A sudden series of needy moans and short gasps were lost within his mouth when he started gliding the pad of that same finger up and down and collecting all those sweet juices just to use them as lubrication for when he does this.

Another smirk effortlessly plays on his lips when your nails dig into his back. He pushed his finger between your walls, up to the last knuckle and curled it against your g-spot slowly. He pulled back to watch you, one of his absolute favorite things to do.

His eyes intently studied your reactions as pride swelled within him. Just one finger and you were a moaning mess beneath him. He liked to play around with the rhythm to find what you liked best and by now he’s got the sequence down like second nature.

Three pumps against your sweet spot slowly, then five quicker, rougher ones. You spread your thighs as far as they’d go but involuntarily shut them around his hips when he started rubbing circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. His mouth slightly fell open as he watched you, brows furrowed in concentration as he made a mental record to give you as many orgasms as you possibly wanted tonight.

“Fuck you’re so hot like this” his voice was filled with an edgy rasp that had your head spinning. “I can feel you tightening around me, you’re already so close you can probably taste it, can’t you baby?”

All you could do was nod eagerly as your mouth fell open and strained gasps and broken whimpers flew threw the air. You started squirming around, hips bucking to match the pumps of his finger and he felt the sudden warmth against his skin, and the way your walls throbbed around him.

“Oh fuck, Tyler I-“

“Mhm, record time” he muttered before he dipped down and latched his lips to your neck, sucking your skin roughly to add to the sensations of it all. “I can feel it babygirl” he muttered against you, “can feel you coming around my finger, fuck I can’t wait until it’s my cock your coming on”

Within seconds you were hit with a high that nearly blinded you. Tyler knew exactly how to ride you through it, and he made sure you were trembling until the very last second. He pulled back again to look at you, sliding his finger out and bringing it to your lips, tracing the wetness across your bottom one before he watched you open your mouth to invite it in.

You could’ve swore you saw that man internally lose it when your lips cupped around his finger and sucked your own juices clean off with a smirk. Within a split second he pulled that finger out and replaced it with his lips. A teeth clashing, tongue fighting type of kiss that sucked the air right out of your lungs.

Your panties were swiftly pulled all the way down to your ankles and you kicked them onto the floor while he raised your shirt up to your neck and leaned up on his knees, quickly sliding his sweats down to his thighs, along with his boxers and grabbing his hard shaft in his hand.

Your eyes fell to it, widening slightly. You’d seen it a trillion and one times but for some reason it always surprised you when it stood proudly. You were always certain you couldn’t take all of him but somehow you did.

The corner of his lips lifted at your reaction before he wrapped a hand underneath your thigh and pulled you down from the pillows you were propped up on. He tapped the tip against your clit three times, then eyed you as he slipped between your walls, but couldn’t help but let his own eyes roll when he felt you squeezing around him.

“Fuck.” He muttered underneath his breath, tipping his head back for a moment. He looked back down at you and the way your brows were knitted tightly together, a general response to his size that he always adored seeing.

He brought his hand up to cup your jaw, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip as he pushed all the way in, and when your mouth fell open, his thumb took the invitation in. You sucked on it, eyes on him doing your best not to close them. His lips parted and a look of pure euphoria washed over his face, but as soon as it was there, it vanished.

You could practically see the gears turning in his mind. An idea forms and he can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before.

“Hold up, let me grab something real quick.” He pulls out of you and slides off the bed, leaving the room for a moment to return with his camera in hand and a boyish grin on his face.

You glanced down at it and then back up at him questionably.

“Will you let me do this? I promise nobody will ever see these. I would have to kill them if they did.”

He made his way back between your thighs and waited for your answer. There wasn’t a lot of uncertainty around it. You were just a little self conscious and he knew that, but this was a part of wanting you to realize how stunning you are.

“Okay.” You whispered, watching as his eyes lit up. He set the camera next to him and pushed back in, a little rougher this time. He was now on a mission to pull more reactions from you. He wanted to capture every single thing you did in these moments. Everything he made you feel.

He hiked your leg up, your ankle resting on his shoulder as he pulled out, almost fully, just to slam back into you with a force that had the headboard hitting the wall.

Once he picked up the pace and had you consistently moaning and whimpering beneath him, he grabbed the camera, never once slowing down as he held it up and snapped the pictures he was going to be looking at a lot when he was away from you.

“You’re so fucking hot right now gorgeous” he praises as he captures your blissed face, coupled with your shirt riding up to your neck and your breasts on full display for him. He took his hand and cupped one of them, snapping a picture of that.

Any sense of insecurity that you originally had was washed away in that moment. He was admiring your body while he simultaneously fucked into you. Some of the pictures were probably going to be blurry as he picked up the pace but those were going to be memorable anyway.

He angled the camera down to where his cock disappeared between your walls and gripped your hip with one hand, taking a picture of that too. Two, to be exact.

“You are a fucking masterpiece.”

You moaned to his praises and reached up for him. He placed the camera down and leaned down, holding your ankle against his shoulder as he rocked into you. You were an absolute mess of whines and moans and shortly you were going to be screaming his name and he knew it.

That’s exactly what he was aiming for.

He put all his focus into making you come harder than you ever have. He wanted to see everything he could possibly do to you. He wanted to make this something you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about next time he has to leave.

“You’re taking me so well, baby.” He praises. He reaches over and finds your hand, intertwining your fingers and pinning it over your head. His forehead presses against yours and he looks down between your sweaty bodies and watches his length disappear into you.

“That tight little pussy is squeezing my cock like your life depends on it.” He grits his teeth as he pulls his hips back and crashes back into you, earning a squeal to echo through the room. A sound he knows he hasn’t yet heard from you, and one he wishes he could hear forever.

“Like that?” He breathlessly starts to pant. All you can do his nod and hum a response. Any words you have ever learned in your life are long forgotten.

He picked up on your body language and switched the pace, pulling out to snap back in, hitting your sweet spot just right every single time.

His hand gave yours a squeeze when he felt your walls clench down around him and he knew then and there that you were on the edge of an all consuming orgasm and he wanted to make absolute certain that it was going to leave you in shambles.

“Look at me” he demanded as he pulled back and hovered above you. You felt his grip around your hand loosen and his fingers slip away before he cupped your jaw instead. “You wanna come?” He quirked a brow, watching as you nodded needily.

“Need to hear you say it. What do you want?” His hips snapped in and you swore you could feel it in your stomach.

“Yes! Fuck yes tyler!” You shouted, your voice strained and rasped.

“Yes what?” His tone grew deep and thick as he continued rocking into you, sending your mind far off from your own body.

“I want to come!” You cried out. “I’m so close, I need it! I need to come so fucking bad!”

“What’s stopping you?” A condescending edge lingered. “Need me to fuck you harder?” and before you could even respond, he dropped your leg off of his shoulder and rose up to his knees, wrapping his hands under your thighs and hiking them up to his waist to hit at an even deeper angle.

His thrusts sped up and his cock drove even deeper, hitting a spot you didn’t even know you had that caused tears to prick the corners of your eyes. You tried to look up at him but he was a blur and when you squeezed your eyes shut all you saw was a white, blinding light.

“That’s my girl. Taking all of me so fucking well.” He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly and your breasts bouncing from the impact and he knew it wasn’t going to be long for him either.

“Oh God!” You cried out. Your stomach was churning as a warmth spread rapidly through your veins and Tyler could see that you were seconds away from coming completely and utterly undone.

He quickly grabbed the camera and held it up, thrusts still strong as he tried with all his might to fight his own release. The moment he felt that warm sensation engulf him, your walls throbbing around him, he snapped a photo, probably his favorite one, for that matter.

You pressed your head hard against the pillows, back arching high off of mattress as he kept fucking into you, praising you as he helped you ride out that high.

“That’s it baby, thats what you needed.” He felt it himself, and he was able to give into it now. “Im about to fill you up, I want you dripping for me when you get up in the morning. Then ima fuck it all back into you.”

His thrusts got stronger yet sloppier. You felt his fingertips digging into the skin of your thighs as he watched you, still consumed by your own orgasm.

“Ima make sure you stay filled up with me when I’m home. Not gonna be a time my come isn’t dripping down these thighs.” He bends down and gives your inner thigh a series of kisses and a few bites in between, only adding to the euphoria you were succumbed in.

“And when im gone, you’re gonna remember this. Remember me fucking you how you deserve to be. ‘Cause I’ll be back to do it all over again.”

You could hardly comprehend him due to the ringing of your ears but you peered your eyes open and managed to catch his head tipping back, jaw clenched tight as he crashed into you three more times.

His hips stuttered then stilled, chest glistening with sweat and low groans buzzed through his throat as he did exactly what he said he was going to do.

It was then that you grabbed his camera, quickly sneaking a pic of him in that exact moment. His cock twitched and you felt the warmth fill you to the brim, watching as his chest heaved heavily and beads of sweat slid down from his collar bone to his torso.

He looked back down at you, clearly fucked out himself. His hair was sticking to his skin and lips parted and swollen, cheeks slightly rosy too.

He noticed the camera in your hands and pieced it all together through the brain fog.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece.” You whispered breathlessly, the corners of his mouth lightly twitched upwards. “I want that picture. Wanna remember that when you’re gone.”

He pulled out of you slowly and collapsed on top of you, holding his own weight with his elbows as he cradled your face. He placed two gentle kisses to your cheek before he pulled back with a dimpled grin.

“I won’t let you forget.”

[royal-tea-blogs]

Lily Orchard Deserves Better

These thoughts have been rumbling around in my mind for a while now and considering what happened recently with her tumblr being taken down twice and the recent situations, I just wanted to give my two cents so my brain can stop bothering me about it. Heads up for typos and grammar since I wrote this on my phone.

The first Lily Orchard video I ever watched was Over Cooked, a video about Steven Universe’s handling of Amethysts character. Now even as a 12 year old at the time I still knew it was better for me to avoid the content I know would make me mad, and I was a huge fan of SU at the time. But curiosity got the better of me and I ended up watching it.

Then I watched more. Because she made sense. Then I wanted more of her videos. I vividly remember thinking to myself “wow that was harsh” every now and then, but beyond that there weren’t too many cases where I was actually mad at her (because I’m not a pathetic diaper baby who gets mad at opinions what who said that?)

I watched her from then on rip my previous favourite show to pieces, I watched her rip brony pedos and crybabies to pieces and I loved nearly all of it, even if I didn’t agree with some of it.

It took me a while, don’t get me wrong. She discussed it herself in a few videos: people on the internet are used to a lot of shield jokes and bootlicking by the creators (which is fine!). But once I built of more of a tolerance by listening to what she had to say, I found myself a lot more critical in the long run.

Now I still haven’t quite learned my lesson on my curiosity getting me to watch things that I know will make me mad, so I’ve seen a few Lily Orchard debunking videos. Near every single time it is blatantly obvious that they either didn’t understand what her actual point was, or are deliberately misunderstanding it. I just wanted to grab my monitor and shake it screaming “THATS LITERALLY NOT WHAT SHE MEANT” but alas.

The sheer amount of harassment that Lily has gone through for OVER A DECADE is ridiculous. Especially considering a huge amount is from whiny cartoon stans who have nothing going on in their lives.

As for the criminal allegations, if they have the proof they claim (and proof that has apparently convinced other friends so apparently despite Lily’s previous support of them) then take it to a courtroom. I’m personally done listening to those sorts of accusations until something is at least ATTEMPTED to be done about it in a meaningful manner.

As for Stockholm allegations: I’ve seen the clips. I saw one years ago and it broke my heart at the time. It does seem like Lily might have written Stockholm. But I haven’t done lots of searching into that. You know why?

Lily has made it abundantly clear, for the entire seven years I’ve been watching her (at least as long as I can remember) EXACTLY where she stands when it comes to pedophilic behavior, proshippers, abuse victims, and that type of content.

Did she write Stockholm? Her behavior and stance nowadays means that, to me at least, it doesn’t matter. The Lily of today (hell, even years ago) certainly wouldn’t support such a fic and would rake the writer over hot fiery coals, she’s made that blatantly obvious.

Would admitting if she did write it been the morally correct thing to do instead of denying it? Yes.

Do I blame her for a denying it (if she did write it)? After seeing even a tip of the harassment iceberg she’s had to endure for far pettier things? I don’t blame her a bit.

Either she never wrote Stockholm and she’s always held these beliefs and behaviors, or she saw the error of her previous behavior and CHANGED FOR THE BETTER. It’s not like it would have been the last time, I see she tries her best to correct her mistakes.

Honestly? That’s good enough for me. Harassing her over a fic from a decade ago that she has either never even written or blatantly disowned and now condemn the very behavior of is just nonsense. All of it is.

Anyways Lily, I love your content and I really hope you can keep doing what you’re doing and writing what you love ❤️

[iggyartsblog]

A small vent about marble hornets and creepypasta becoming a recent trend

Tw for description of psychosis, gore description

Read if you wish, if not just enjoy the gifs

Marble hornets is on its 15th year anniversary this year and because of this it's resurfaced and there's a wave of new age fans that enjoy the web show and have delved deeper into creepypasta lore as well as the slenderverse. On a normal person level I have no issues with this. I don't believe In gatekeeping analogue horror from back in my time from today's generation, especially something as good as marble hornets.

My issue is this (Trauma dump incoming) : from the age of 7 I was suffering deep psychosis as a result of using creepypasta and marble hornets as a way of coping with trauma and the stress I was under with neglect and having to look after my sick parent and having no healthy friendship in school. Yes, I was one of those kids who wished with all their hearts that the slenderman would come and take them away and make their problems disappear. The problem was I wanted it too much so my brain just made it happen. I was suffering from really bad derealisation as well as auditory and visual hallucinations of the characters. They would talk and interact with me, just not in the way I wanted them too. I remember so vividly washing up after dinner one night and seeing laughing jack break through the door and stab me in the stomach. I remember watching as my stomach and intestine dropped out of my body as he picked them up and swallowed them by the handful while still managing to maniacally laugh in my face. I screamed until my dad came in and told me jokingly to shut up, clearly not seeing my distress.

These hallucinations impacted my social life too. It was clear to me that there was a handful of them that were not out to get me and wouldn't hurt me if I played along with them. The most normal thing I had to do was just not ignore them. I hallucinated ticci toby a lot, especially in public. I had learned that if I didn't talk back to him he would get agitated and I would have nightmares of the slenderman murdering me so I would always talk back. This made going out with friends difficult because I had to respond to him no matter what. This lead to a lot of bullying from my friends and not many people wanting to talk to me.

For years, until I was 12, I kept slipping through the narrative I was either schizophrenic or actually one of the followers of the slenderman (I used to call myself a proxy, now the word makes me feel physically ill). This belief is probably what made the hallucinations last as long as they did. I wasn't aware at the time how deep in psychosis I was as I refused to talk to my parents about it in detail as my mum used to threaten to take me to a mental hospital as a small child when I used my imagination and said I could see a butterfly, for example, that wasn't really there. My sister knew and so did her friend but I'm sure they both thought it was some game.

So, I'm speaking in the past tense. This is behind me, right? Well, it was for a good few years. I was able to do this via limiting myself all access to anything creepypasta related or marble hornets related which was very hard because it was like my safety blanket for so many years. I tried to not put myself in rooms alone without music or something playing in the background so I can concentrate on that and not give anything the chance to harm me. When I did hallucinate I would take videos to prove to myself nobody was there and in time I was able to ignore them completely and the eventually went away. This took about a year or so of discipline and I think it only worked because it was psychosis and not schizophrenia.

However, the reason I'm talking about this now is it's all come back to me. I'm hallucinating again, I'm being hurt again and I'm unable to sleep properly because of the nightmares that plague me due to it. The reason is very clear to me. Media consumption has caused me to relapse. My girlfriend is obsessed with marble hornets and won't stop showing me stuff about it, which is totally fine because she shows me things she likes out of love. However, when I open Tumblr after it's full of marble hornets and creepypasta. It's the same story for other social media. I'm totally okay with people enjoying the fandom and I'm okay with seeing it from time to time but I do feel so bombarded with it all that's it's triggered me into psychosis yet again. And the way people enjoy this media isn't making me feel any more comfortable online either. You cannot imagine what it's like seeing IRLs of monsters that's harmed you physically and mentally roleplaying and twinkifying the character like the character hasn't killed people or tortured people in their source. I can't stand people simping over Tim from marble hornets after I've repeatedly been assaulted and tormented by a figment of my imagination with the exact same face. Having Jeff the killers bloody and broken face sting like a fresh wound in salt over my eyes when I fall asleep seems like a complete contrast to the hot fuckboy version that people put in their pfps and dirty talk on character ai. I'm not saying you can't be thirsty for a man with no eyelids, my point is it's really strange from my point of view.

Now that you've listened to my rant I just want to make it absolutely clear that if you enjoy marble hornets or creepypasta or the slenderverse you have all the right to keep loving that media. I don't want to put people off or make it seem like I'm trying to gatekeep. I do just want to share a very brief overview of my experience with this media and how it's affected me in hopes it might prevent someone else from going through something similar. This is also a reminder for all horror fans to take a break once in a while to cleanse yourself of all violence and fear for a while and look at some positive media to rest your brain once in a while.

I doubt anyone would be interested in hearing more about my experience with psychosis but if you are ill gladly talk more about it. I'm going to do everything I can to overcome this unwanted sequel and I will over come out weather social media and the people around me let me or not. I've done this before and I'll do it again.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

this was quite a while ago so my memory is hazy but it still sort of bothers me, so

AITA for making a quick comment about a ship dynamic(???) i didn't like in the ship tag?

before you jump on my ass, this isn't pro/anti stuff. literally just a matter of preference.

not going to mention the specific characters or media in question for pure anonymity's sake. i'm just going to assign arbitrary names to the characters in question for readability. let's say Albert and Bartholomew, or something. and the ship name can be Fucking BartBert I Guess.

"Bartholomew" had a traumatic experience in his childhood that had a very large impact on his mental state, let's say. as a fan of. um. "bartbert". i had noticed a trend in fan works of this ship depicting an AU version of Bartholomew that had never had this traumatic event happen to him. not that there's anything wrong with that, really. i just found it sort of strange and i was more interested in the canon character, additionally i found it sort of comforting to think that Bartholomew was worthy of love scars and all, so to speak. so i made a short post in the tag expressing pretty much that. along the lines of "why is there so much fanart like this? can't he be loved the way he is?" or something like that, and tagged it as bartbert because i wanted to see other people's thoughts on it. in retrospect it could've been read as dismissive or inflammatory i suppose but i really didn't mean it like that. i was just a little bit annoyed and confused by it.

fast forward a little while and this person comes into my notes saying something along the lines of "for some reason i can't reblog this on my main, but it's because people have been nice enough to make fanart of the AU that i made." i didn't think i knew this person at all, so i essentially just responded trying to assure them that i don't know them and wasn't trying to attack their art or them personally or anything.

i'm not sure exactly what happened after that because it's been like 2 years but in essence, i had actually blocked their main a few months before, because they had been posting about that AU and i didn't like it, so i just blocked and moved on like i usually do with stuff like that because i didn't want to see it in the tags. i probably didn't even realize at the time that they were the creator of the AU. but this person pointed out that i had their main blocked as like, evidence that that post i had made was a personal attack against them, or something like that?? of course i didn't mean it in that way, i had just blocked their main months ago and forgotten about it, and i wasn't even really trying to be rude but they blocked me before i could try to explain myself.

i remember this whole thing pretty vividly because i was at the zoo with my family that day and feeling like i was being accused of something i didn't do, or being called mean or being picked on by someone with a much larger following than me presumably, just for making a single post the night before was really stressing me out on what was supposed to be a fun day. in addition i ended up leaving the fanbase for the work in question entirely pretty soon after because i didn't want people to think i was weird or mean. it's sort of colored my recollection of the work in general, which sucks because i do still really like it.

in retrospect i'm honestly not sure if what i did was wrong or not. i suppose i shouldn't have put negativity in the tag but also i feel like you should be allowed to express negative opinions the same as positive ones, right? as long as you aren't being a jackass about it. although at the same time i can sort of see their perspective because i think if i saw a post like that about something i had made i might've jumped straight to being defensive about it, too...

but anyways it's one of those memories that creeps up on me while i'm trying to go to sleep, so,

was i the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[iheartchv]

Sunny Day Jack x Reader:

I Never Forgot 2

What if you were one of the few people who remembered vividly about Sunny Day Jack... even after the whole show seemed to have been forgotten?

☀️Rating: Fluffy

🌈 Part 1 | 🌈 Part 3

❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤💛💙❤

Rousing from the (fainting?) episode, you groggily recalled what happened. Lets see... You went to a threft store, came home with a VCR tape, and then... the next thing you knew, you woke up laying on the couch. And sitting on the floor next to you was Jack (you remembered him, though) with a worried look on his face. How did he even get here...?

"Hey, are you okay, y/n? You had me worried there for a minute." He gave you a relieved smile.

You blinked in confusion. "You're... still here... It wasn't a dream? Ha, so it wasn't no fever dream!" You then sat up as you exclaimed. "I knew it!"

"What? What is it?" He was still looking concerned about you as he wondered what you were talking about.

"You... The SunnyTime Crew Show... it was all real. I knew I wasn't crazy."

He blinked in confusion, but didn't say anything to upset you. That was the last thing he wanted to do. "Who said you were crazy?"

"People on the internet, those I come in contact with. They kept telling me there was no such thing.. but I knew I couldn't have made all of that part of my childhood up."

"Hm? What's an internet?"

Oh, right. The internet wasn't widely used till the late 90s. You explained what the internet was and how much everything has changed since then. You then started talking to him, catching him up on things. For the entire moment, you felt like you were catching up with a best friend. Your eyes softened as you looked away from him, feelings and memories of Ian coming to mind.

Jack noticed the change in you. "Hey, is everything okay? You look so sad."

You turned to look back at him. "Oh, I'm just... thinking about someone."

"And do they always make you feel that way?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you... want to talk about it?" His dark yet soft eyes looked at you with such care. Your heart sped up with a pleasant feeling as the look he gave you was one you had seen multiple times in the show, one of kindness and caring. "I'm here for you, Sunshine. You know that, right? I care about you, and I only want you to be happy."

"Sunshine? You've never used to say that."

"Well, uhm, it's... a special nickname. And... you're a very special friend to me." A tint of pink colored his cheeks. Then he placed his hand on your shoulder. "If that's alright by you, I mean..."

You didn't mind that nickname. If anyone else called you that, or any other name related to the cute kind, you would've been like a grumpy bear. But because it was Jack, you didn't mind at all. "That's fine by me."

"Great." He smiled brightly, a huge grin on his face. The way he acted would remind you of a puppy. "Oh, by the way... I've got a question that I wanted to ask you."

"Ask away."

"How... how do you know who I am? I didn't introduce myself to you. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered that you know who I am." He gave a chuckle. "I'm just curious." He folded his arms on the edge of the couch near you and rested his chin on them, seeming to watch you.

"I... just knew." You shrugged. "You've always caught my attention... and, maybe, because I felt kinda connected to you." How could you give a definitive answer when you were just as confused as he was?

"Hm, okay. I'll take your word for it, Sunshine." He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but to smile back. His whole being was infectious, just being around him would make you feel happy and warm inside. "So, what do you wanna do?"

Question was... Where to start?

I think I'll write one more part to this and end this story. Maybe when the full game is released, and with more research on the lore, I will rewrite this story. Enjoy SDJ fandom~☁️🌈☀️