#and it seems like some of you (the same few people actually) live and breathe that drama every day

[disdaidal]

Whoever sent me that ask about a Billy anti, I’m only going to answer you the same thing that I’ve answered others so many times before: block them or ignore them. It’s the best way to deal with them.

I am not going to publish that ask because it gives a direct link to a post and I don’t encourage bullying anyone - even if it’s a person with a ‘bad take’.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

skinamarble hornets, i was like i hope my favorite skinamascene has been uplomarinked on youtube....reminds me of that season one marble hornets entry that's the First House Visit and how i saw it described somewhere as like "absolutely nothing happens, & it's terrifying" & it reminds me of the torment of watching as the series was released & Every Time something came out, no matter what happened in like setting, atmosphere, plot, scares, there'd be someone going "ugh another Nothing entry" over the most crucial &/or enjoyable shit so long as it didn't feature [& he's cookin hot dogs on the stove???] & didn't feature it like every other minute for good measure. as though a format that is predictable, like the promise of the same kind of scene in the same intervals of timing, would actually be scary or at all interesting. shoutout to these the entries, or even intervals of time within entries, where "absolutely nothing happens" and it's called suspense in knowing it Could, tension in an unsafe, uneasy, unsettling situation in the meantime, & then also potential followup recontextualization that only creates more tension for later similar material. ("absolutely nothing" happens (of course, actually, things happen, but) in the skinamarink scene save for the literal last few seconds when the "jumpscare" is a very brief change in audio & visuals which is neither actually that loud nor like showing anything scary(tm) (technically a la marble hornets i think people say you can like see an arm extend for a nanosecond but i never catch it if so lol) but rather hits at all because of 8 minutes of suspense & tension & Nothing Happening But It Could) (also bravely standing up like "it's fine that skinamarink has some jumpscares, including the obvious few even jumpier than this" like who cares if it's "easy" necessarily & also that Knowing such startlement can happen ramps up the tension even when it didn't, but it could've. like so)

[pucksandpower]

So Good to Her

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the public reacts to the TikTok challenge you and Charles inadvertently participated in

Read So Good to Me (about the TikTok challenge) here

The TikTok that the British influencer posted of his encounter with you and your incredibly generous boyfriend quickly goes viral, racking up millions of views, likes, and comments within mere hours.

It spreads like wildfire across social media platforms, with people sharing it on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook — even LinkedIn of all places. Everyone marvels at this mystery woman with the boyfriend of all boyfriends who casually sent her €10,000 just to buy a pair of shoes.

In a cozy London flat, a group of university students and diehard Charles fans gather around a laptop, eyes wide as they watch the now-viral video for the umpteenth time.

“I can’t believe Charles has a secret girlfriend!” Megan, a petite blonde wearing a red Ferrari cap, exclaims. “How did we not know about this? We follow his every move!”

Her best friend Ethan nods in agreement, his brow furrowed. “Seriously, who is this girl? She’s drop dead gorgeous and apparently Charles is just casually sending her 10 grand for shopping sprees?”

“Okay but like, goals though,” Lexi chimes in dreamily, clutching a Charles Leclerc poster to her chest. “Imagine having a boyfriend who’s not only mega hot and talented but also spoils you rotten. She’s living the dream.”

Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, he can’t just throw money around like that. I bet this whole thing was staged for clout.”

Megan shoots him a withering glare. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would be the point? Charles is already one of the most popular drivers on the grid, he doesn’t need to pull PR stunts for attention.”

“Plus did you see the way he talked to her on the phone?” Lexi points out, rewinding the video. “That was not acting, that was real love and affection in his voice. I’m so soft for them already, ugh.”

The trio falls silent as they watch the clip again, zeroing in on every little detail and facial expression from both Charles’ mystery girlfriend and the clearly shocked TikToker.

Ethan chuckles and shakes his head. “I still can’t get over her reaction though. Just a guy who loves driving fast cars — I mean, the cheek! She really knows how to keep a secret, gotta give her that.”

“An icon, honestly,” Megan declares. “The fact that she told him to donate the money to an animal shelter too ... okay, I can’t even be mad. She seems like a sweet person.”

Lexi sighs happily, starry-eyed. “They’re literally a power couple. The sheer confidence and BDE of it all. I’m so jealous but also like, rooting for them? We have to find out who this girl is!”

As if on cue, Megan’s phone pings with a Twitter notification. Her eyes widen as she swipes to view it. “Guys. GUYS. The TikToker just confirmed her first name is Y/N and posted another video with a few more details about her!”

“Well don’t just sit there, play it!” Ethan demands, practically launching himself across the couch to peer over Megan’s shoulder at her phone screen. Lexi scrambles to join them, bouncing with anticipation.

In the new clip, the TikToker is grinning excitedly at the camera, an extra bounce in his step as he walks along the same Monaco street where he first approached you.

“Right, so I’m sure by now you’ve all seen my video with Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend go absolutely mental viral,” he begins, running a hand through his artfully tousled hair. “Which, can I just say — thank you so much for the insane support and love, you lot are the best fans ever.”

“Get to the point,” Ethan mutters under his breath, earning a sharp “Shh!” from both girls.

“Anyway,” the TikToker continues. “After she left and I finally picked my jaw up off the floor, I did some digging. I headed to that little boutique she mentioned in the call with Charles, just to see if she actually went in and bought anything. Thought maybe if I asked the staff, they might be able to give me some more info, you know?”

Megan, Ethan, and Lexi all subconsciously lean closer to the small phone screen, hanging on to his every word.

“So get this — not only did she buy the shoes, she apparently also went next door and purchased, and I quote, a frankly alarming amount of lingerie. The cashier said she dropped over 5 grand like it was nothing!”

Lexi lets out a scandalized gasp as Ethan chokes on his sip of Red Bull. Megan just shakes her head in wonderment. “The actual legend,” she murmurs reverently.

The TikToker laughs and waggles his eyebrows suggestively at the camera. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m definitely sensing some spicy thank you for the shopping money activities were planned for a certain Ferrari driver, if you know what I mean. Get in there, Charles!”

“Gross, I so did not need that visual,” Ethan grumbles, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips all the same.

“Oh shut up, as if you wouldn’t do the exact same if you were dating Charles,” Lexi retorts with a playful shove to his shoulder.

“ANYWAY,” the TikToker presses on, “I did manage to squeeze a few more details out of the lovely shop girl. Apparently Charles’ girlfriend is named Y/N, no last name given for privacy reasons. But she’s a regular customer and, I quote, an absolute sweetheart who only ever has glowing things to say about her man. So there you have it, folks — Y/N and Charles are the real deal and we’re all just peasants watching a fairytale unfold.”

Megan sighs dreamily as the video ends. “Y/N and Charles,” she repeats to herself, already typing the names into her social media search bars. “God, even their names sound good together. I have to find out everything about her.”

“Dibs on making their ship name hashtag go viral,” Lexi calls out, already furiously typing away on her own phone.

Ethan snorts and rolls his eyes affectionately at his friends, but there’s no denying the small, reluctantly impressed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth too. “I give it two days before they’re papped together on some glamorous date night now that the secret’s out. Hope she’s ready for the attention dating an F1 star brings.”

“With that level of confidence and the way Charles clearly adores her? I think our girl Y/N will handle the spotlight just fine,” Megan says confidently.

Lexi nods in firm agreement. “Yep, a true queen. Charles better lock that down and wife her up real quick before one of us tries to snatch her for ourselves!”

***

In a cozy apartment not far from the very street where you had your memorable encounter with the TikToker, three young women huddle around a laptop screen, eyes wide and jaws slack as they watch the now viral video for the umpteenth time.

“I can’t believe this,” mutters Isabelle, a pretty brunette with an impressively encyclopedic knowledge of Formula 1 stats. “Charles has a girlfriend? Since when?”

“And he just sent her €10,000 like it was nothing!” Exclaims Maia, nervously twirling a strand of her platinum blonde hair. “I mean, I know he’s loaded but holy shit, the way he spoils her ...”

The third girl, Claire, bites her lip, a pensive look on her delicate features. “Did you hear what she said at the end though? Just a guy who loves driving fast cars. She was obviously talking about Charles. But the way she said it, all mysterious and like it was some inside joke ... I don’t know, it just rubs me the wrong way.”

Isabelle scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please, she was totally gloating. Didn’t even have the decency to act a little humble about the fact that THE Charles Leclerc is apparently head over heels for her.”

“Exactly!” Maia chimes in, nodding vigorously. “Like okay, congrats, you bagged a hot, rich, famous race car driver. No need to rub it in the rest of our faces.”

Claire wrinkles her nose. “I just don’t get the vibe that she actually cares about him, you know? I mean, who asks their boyfriend to send them money in the middle of the day for some stupid shoes? While he’s working? She seems like such a gold digger.”

“Ugh, you’re so right,” Isabelle agrees, her lips curling in distaste. “Poor Charles is probably blind to it because he’s so gone for her. He didn’t even hesitate to transfer that money!”

Maia sighs dramatically and falls back on the bed. “God, it’s so unfair. Why can’t I find a man who’s that generous and totally obsessed with me? I’d treat him so much better than she does, you can already tell.”

Claire hums and taps her chin thoughtfully. “You know what, I think this smells fishy. How do we even know she’s actually Charles’ girlfriend? For all we know, she could have paid some guy who sounds like him to play along for a TikTok clout.”

Isabelle’s eyes narrow as she considers this possibility. “That’s true ... I haven’t come across any photos of them together or anything. Why has no one ever seen her before if they’re supposedly so in love?”

“Exactly!” Claire exclaims, growing more animated. “I’ve been a Charles fan for years and I’ve never seen or heard anything about a girlfriend. If they’re really dating, there’s no way it wouldn’t have come out before now.”

Maia sits up, suddenly energized by this new conspiracy theory. “Oh my god, you’re right! She’s probably just some wannabe influencer trying to get famous by pretending to be with Charles. That’s so pathetic.”

Isabelle nods slowly, a determined glint in her eye. “You know what? We should do some digging. Try to find out who this girl really is and expose her for the fraud she clearly is. Charles and the world deserve to know the truth.”

“Yesss, I’m so down for an investigation!” Maia says gleefully. “Imagine if we’re the ones who reveal that this whole thing is fake. We’d be doing Charles a huge favor.”

Claire is already pulling up Instagram and Twitter on her phone. “Let’s start by going through the comments on that TikTok and seeing if anyone has identified her or posted any receipts. There have to be some clues somewhere.”

The girls spend the next few hours poring over social media, searching for any scrap of information they can find about the mystery woman who has supposedly captured Charles Leclerc’s heart. They work themselves into a frenzy, convincing each other more and more that you can’t possibly be Charles’ real girlfriend. In their minds, you’re clearly just an opportunistic clout chaser looking for your 15 minutes of fame.

“God, I hope Charles sees through her act soon,” Isabelle says for the hundredth time, shaking her head. “He’s too good for some two-bit gold digger who’s just using him.”

“We’ll make sure he finds out who she really is,” Claire assures her firmly. “And then he’ll have no choice but to dump her lying ass.”

Maia sighs wistfully, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “Do you think once he’s single again, I might actually have a chance? Like, if I run into him at a race one day and strike up a conversation, maybe he’ll realize I’m the girl he’s meant to be with ...”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Claire says with a laugh. “First step is taking down this fraud of a girlfriend. Then we can daydream about being Mrs. Leclerc.”

The girls giggle and go back to their social media sleuthing with renewed determination. They’ve decided you’re public enemy number one and they won’t rest until they’ve exposed you for the fake, money-hungry, clout-chasing liar they’re certain you must be. In their eyes, they’re crusaders for truth, fighting to save their beloved Charles from your clutches.

What they don’t realize, of course, is just how very real and very deep Charles’ feelings for you actually are ... and that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, Internet conspiracy theories be damned.

***

In a dimly lit basement somewhere in Italy, a group of die-hard Charles Leclerc fans huddle around a computer screen, their jaws dropping as they watch the video for the umpteenth time.

“Guys, are you seeing this shit?” Enzo, the self-appointed leader of the group, asks incredulously. “Who the hell is this girl and how did she bag Charles freakin’ Leclerc?”

“Dude, we don’t even know for sure that it’s actually Charles,” Giovanni points out skeptically. “She never said his name. It could be some other rich dude with a fast car.”

Enzo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, who else could it be? €10,000 like it’s nothing, is it possible that Leclerc has a secret girlfriend we don’t know about all this time? A guy who likes driving fast cars? It’s obviously Charles! Our boy is LOADED and that’s exactly how he’d spoil his girl.”

Luca nods in agreement, a dreamy expression on his face. “God, can you imagine being with Charles though? Having him call you all those cute pet names and just showering you with love and gifts? I’d fucking die.”

“Yeah, she has to be the luckiest woman on the planet,” Enzo sighs wistfully. “I mean, I’m straight, but even I’d let Charles ruin me, you know what I’m saying?”

The other guys murmur and nod in emphatic agreement, all of them momentarily lost in a fantasy of being Charles Leclerc’s pampered significant other.

“Okay but like, how is this even fair?” Giovanni gripes, breaking the spell. “The rest of us mere mortals are out here busting our asses on Tinder and Hinge, praying a decent girl will swipe right, and Charles just gets to date a literal goddess who is probably a model?”

“Life isn’t fair, Gio,” Enzo says solemnly. “Charles is on a completely different level. He could have any woman he wants and they’d all say yes before he even finished asking. The rules don’t apply to a guy like that.”

Luca suddenly sits up straight, his eyes widening with realization. “Holy shit, guys. Do you know what this means? If Charles is taken, that’s one less F1 driver on the market for all those grid girl groupies to throw themselves at! Maybe the rest of us actually have a chance now!”

Giovanni snorts derisively. “Yeah, you wish. Those chicks are still gonna be busy trying to get with Sainz or Verstappen or Norris. They’re not gonna settle for some nobody Ferrari fan. Let’s be real.”

“Wow, way to kill the vibe, Debbie Downer,” Luca mutters. He turns back to the computer and hits replay on the video, watching enviously as the TikToker clearly shows the €10,000 bank transfer on your phone. “Seriously though, how is this chick not freaking the fuck out? If Charles Leclerc randomly sent me 10 grand I’d be screaming and probably pass out.”

“She’s probably used to it,” Enzo says with a shrug. “I bet this is like, a regular Tuesday for her. Just casually strolling around Monaco, stopping into designer stores whenever she feels like it, Charles’ black credit card weighing down her Hermès purse. The bougiest of WAG lives.”

“God, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with her for just one day,” Giovanni says longingly. “Can you imagine getting to wake up next to Charles every morning? Having him make you breakfast and give you forehead kisses and tell you how much he loves you in that sexy accent?”

“Okay, now you’re just torturing yourself, bro,” Luca laughs. “You’ll be lucky if you can get a Tinder match to agree to split the bill at McDonalds.”

“Why you gotta bring me back to my sad reality like that?” Giovanni groans, chucking a throw pillow at Luca’s head. “Let me live vicariously through Charles’ bougie mystery girlfriend for a little while longer, damn.”

Enzo sighs and leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “You know what the craziest part of all this is? The fact that Charles managed to keep a whole ass girlfriend hidden from the world. Like, the media has been speculating about his love life forever and no one had a clue he was actually in a serious relationship. That man moves in silence like a ninja.”

“Yeah, and did you see how he just casually threw out that he loves her?” Luca gushes. “He was all I love spoiling you, you deserve the world. My dude is head over heels for this girl and I am LIVING for it.”

“Ugh, why can’t I find a man like that?” Giovanni whines dramatically. “All I want is a guy who will write me cute Instagram captions in three languages and buy out the Gucci store for me but I guess that’s too much to ask!”

“Maybe if you stanned Charles harder, the universe would reward you,” Enzo snarks. “Start leaving thirsty comments on his shirtless pics, see if that manifests your dream F1 boyfriend.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t already do that,” Giovanni retorts with a smirk. “How else do you think Oscar Piastri ended up in my DMs last night?”

“Wait, WHAT?” Luca and Enzo exclaim in unison, whipping their heads around to gape at their friend.

Giovanni bursts out laughing at their shocked faces. “I’m just kidding, jeez! You think I’d be sitting here listening to you losers if Oscar freaking Piastri actually messaged me? Puh-lease.”

“Man, don’t even joke about that,” Enzo grumbles, clutching at his heart. “You really had me going there for a sec.”

Luca huffs and slouches down in his seat. “Can we get back to being jealous of Charles’ sugar baby girlfriend now? I was enjoying that more than whatever the hell this conversation turned into.”

“She’s not his sugar baby!” Enzo argues. “They’re clearly in love! Did we watch the same video? The way he talked to her was mad cute. That’s his GIRL girl.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Luca concedes, holding his hands up in apology. “Charles might spoil her but he obviously adores her for more than just her looks. That’s the real relationship goals right there.”

“Imagine being so secure in your love that you can just ball out on your partner like that and know it’s only going to make them love you more,” Giovanni muses. “Cannot relate.”

Enzo nods sagely. “Charles is just built different, man. In more ways than one.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Luca agrees. “So, are we watching this video another 50 times or are we moving on to the Grill the Grid compilation I found of all of Charles’ most adorably flustered moments?”

Enzo grins maniacally and reaches for the mouse. “Oh, you know we’re watching the hell out of this absolute gift again. And then we’re gonna spend the next three hours cyberstalking Charles and seeing if we can find any other crumbs about who this legendary mystery woman is. For research purposes.”

“This is the most productive thing we’ve done in months and I’m not even ashamed,” Giovanni declares, cracking his knuckles in preparation for the intense social media deep dive they’re about to undertake.

***

In a crowded sports bar in Dublin, a group of die-hard Ferrari fans gather to watch the latest race. But today, there’s another bit of F1-related content that has their attention. They huddle around a phone, repeatedly watching the now-infamous TikTok video.

“Can you believe it? €10,000 just like that!” Exclaims James, a tall, lanky guy with a mop of curly hair. “I mean, I knew Charles was loaded but damn ...”

“Forget the money, did you see his girlfriend?” Tom, a stocky redhead, chimes in. “Absolutely stunning. Like, how does a race car driver land a girl like that?”

Mark, a quieter guy with glasses, rolls his eyes. “Uh, maybe because he’s Charles freaking Leclerc? The man’s a beast on the track and has the face of a Greek god. Girls probably throw themselves at him left and right.”

The guys all mutter in begrudging agreement, a note of envy coloring their voices. On screen, the video replays yet again, showing you confidently calling up your boyfriend and securing the small fortune without batting an eye.

“God, what I wouldn’t give to have a woman look at me the way she probably looks at Leclerc,” Tom sighs wistfully.

“In your dreams, mate,” James scoffs. “Girls like that are way out of our league. We can’t compete with a Ferrari paycheck and Monaco real estate.”

“Still doesn’t seem fair though,” grumbles Mark. “The dude’s already got it all — talent, fame, money. Leave some for the rest of us!”

On screen, the video reaches the part where you coolly inform the gobsmacked TikToker that you don’t need his measly €2,000 and he should donate it to an animal shelter instead. The guys let out low whistles, clearly impressed by your classy move.

“See, that right there, that’s what separates the Monegasque princess types from regular girls,” says James with an air of authority. “We would’ve taken the cash in a heartbeat.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m a man of principle,” Tom jokes, puffing out his chest exaggeratedly. The others snort and shove him playfully.

As the video ends, the guys sit back, each lost in their own wistful imaginings of what it must be like to be Charles Leclerc. To have the money, success, and effortless charm to win over a girl like you.

Mark is the first to break the contemplative silence. “Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong,” he muses thoughtfully. “I mean yeah, Charles is a lucky bastard, no doubt. But that girl, she seems like a real catch too. Like the kind of person who’d keep you humble and grounded, even when you’re a superstar athlete with the world at your feet.”

The others consider this, nodding slowly. “Fair point,” concedes Tom. “Behind every great man and all that jazz. Leclerc may have his millions but he still needs someone to call him out on his BS from time to time.”

“Exactly,” agrees Mark. “And did you hear the way he spoke to her on the phone? The dude’s completely smitten. He may have all the money and fame, but I bet she’s the real prize in his eyes.”

“Alright, alright, settle down Dr. Phil,” James interjects with a good-natured eye roll. “You gonna start writing romance novels in your spare time now? Maybe they’ll make a movie — The Tifosi Who Loved Me: A Charles Leclerc Story.”

The guys all crack up laughing at that, the tension broken. Their envy towards Leclerc’s charmed life remains, but it’s now tinged with a newfound respect and even a touch of empathy.

“Y’know, jokes aside, I do hope he realizes how lucky he is to have her and treats her right,” Mark says sincerely as their chuckles subside. “A love like that seems rare these days.”

Tom reaches over to clap Mark on the shoulder. “No worries, mate. Did you see the dopey grin on Charles’ face in those paparazzi pics of them together that came out earlier? That man is whipped with a capital W. He knows he’s got a keeper.”

“As he should,” nods James sagely. “Behind every great Ferrari champion is an even greater woman keeping his ego in check. Tale as old as time.”

On that note, the guys clink their pint glasses together, silently saluting the unnamed woman who stole the heart of Charles Leclerc and the envious admiration of Formula 1 fans worldwide. The mystery girlfriend with impeccable style and a heart of gold.

As the pre-race coverage starts up on the bar TV, the guys settle in to cheer on their favorite driver, their fleeting jealousy replaced by the camaraderie and excitement of race day. But in the back of their minds, a single wistful thought remains — what they wouldn’t give to find a love like Charles and his girl seem to share. Guess that’s just one more thing to add to the list of reasons to idolize Charles Leclerc.

***

Among the hordes of viewers obsessively replaying the clip are three best friends gathered for a girls night at a posh Parisian penthouse. Colette, the willowy blonde draped across a velvet chaise lounge, takes a sip of her champagne and shakes her head in wonder.

“God, can you imagine having a boyfriend who just casually drops 10k on you like it’s nothing? Talk about relationship goals,” she sighs dreamily.

Next to her, Nadia snorts derisively while scrolling through Instagram on her phone. “Oh please, like that’s hard to find. I bet loads of rich guys would do that for their girlfriends. It’s not that impressive.”

From her perch on a tufted ottoman, Stephanie raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? You think Liam would send you that kind of cash without batting an eye? Mr. I-Need-To-Check-With-My-Financial-Advisor-Before-I-Buy-A-New-Tie?”

Colette erupts into giggles at the scathing impression of Nadia’s banker boyfriend. Even Nadia cracks a reluctant smile before tossing her sleek dark hair.

“Whatever. I’m just saying, that TikTok chick’s boyfriend can’t be THAT special. I’m sure if we did the same challenge our boyfriends would come through too,” she declares with more than a hint of competitiveness in her voice.

“Oooh yes, let’s do it! Let’s recreate the video and see what happens!” Colette squeals, bouncing up and down on the chaise with excitement.

Stephanie, ever the voice of reason, looks uncertain. “I don’t know, guys ... isn’t it a bit tacky to demand money from them like that? What if they get mad?”

Nadia rolls her eyes. “Oh come on Steph, live a little! It’s just a silly experiment. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Okay, okay fine,” Stephanie relents, unable to resist her friends’ cajoling. “But I’m blaming you both if Omer breaks up with me over this!”

“Deal!” Colette grins impishly as she grabs her phone. “I’ll go first — let me call Henry and we’ll see if he’s as generous as Mystery Monaco Man.”

With a deep breath, she dials her property developer boyfriend and launches into her rehearsed plea as soon as he picks up. “Baby!” She whines. “You’ll never believe what happened. I’m out with the girls and my Louboutins broke! Like the heel just totally snapped off. I’m absolutely gutted, these were my faves. Is there any way you could send some money to my account so I can grab a new pair on the way home? Pleeeaaase, I’ll love you forever!”

There’s a heavy pause before Henry’s clipped voice comes through, tinged with annoyance. “Christ, again with the bloody shoes? What is it with you women and wasting my hard earned money on bits of leather you don’t need? Can’t you just take the broken ones to get fixed?”

Colette’s perfectly glossed pout trembles, her blue eyes shining with disappointed tears as Nadia and Stephanie look on in pity. “Never mind,” she mumbles. “Forget I asked. Chat later.” She hangs up and flings her phone down despondently.

“What an ass,” Nadia spits. “You deserve so much better.” Colette shrugs sadly but rallies as she turns to Stephanie expectantly.

“Okay Steph, your turn to give Omer a ring! Let’s hope he restores our faith in rich boyfriends everywhere.”

Stephanie grimaces but dutifully calls her Qatar-based hedge fund manager beau. In her most saccharine voice, she makes her case. “Habibi, you know that gorgeous YSL bag I showed you last week? It finally came back in stock but only for today! Could you maybe pop some cash in my account so I can treat myself? I’ve been working so hard lately and-”

“Wallahi Stephanie, how many handbags does one woman need?” Omer cuts her off irritably. “If I buy you this one, I don’t want to hear any more whining for designer things for at least 6 months, got it? I’ll send you 500 euros, that should more than cover it.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks, I guess ...” Stephanie replies glumly before ending the call. She shakes her head at her friends. “Well, it’s something at least?”

“Hardly,” Nadia scoffs. “These men, I swear. Okay, time for me to show you girls how it’s done. Watch and learn, ladies.”

With a confident smirk, she video calls Liam who answers distractedly, clearly still at the office despite the late hour. “This better be important Nadia, I’m right in the middle of-”

“Liam. Focus,” Nadia cuts him off crisply. “I need you to send €10,000 to my account right now. No questions asked.” She arches a commanding eyebrow, daring him to argue.

Liam just blinks at her for a moment before letting out an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, you need me to do what now? 10 grand, are you mad? For what possible reason?”

“To prove you love me,” Nadia retorts smugly. “I saw this thing on TikTok, some girl’s boyfriend sent her-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Liam interrupts. “I’m not one of your little social media playthings to manipulate for views, Nadia. My money is not a toy. I’ll buy you a thoughtful gift for your birthday next month, but I’m not in the business of flinging cash at you for no reason. Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us have real work to do. Goodnight.”

With that he abruptly ends the call, leaving Nadia staring at the blank screen, a red flush of embarrassment and anger creeping up her elegant neck. Stephanie and Colette exchange knowing looks.

“So … that went well,” Stephanie quips sarcastically.

Colette sighs morosely as she flops back onto the chaise, hugging a silk pillow. “Maybe that girl’s boyfriend really is one of a kind. God, I bet she feels like the luckiest woman alive. Can you even imagine being THAT loved and adored?”

Nadia seems to deflate, her bravado evaporating. “No,” she whispers. “I can’t. You’re right, Col. Mystery Monaco Man is clearly in a league of his own. I bet he makes her feel like an absolute queen every damn day.”

Stephanie nods thoughtfully, twirling a lock of hair. “You know what though? Good for her. She seems lovely and down-to-earth in the video. If anyone deserves that fairy tale romance, it’s a girl like that who doesn’t even realize how special it is.”

“Ugh, so true. god I’m depressed now,” Colette groans, reaching for the champagne bottle to refill her glass. “To Mystery Monaco Man — may he set the standard for rich boyfriends everywhere. And to the girl who’s lucky enough to love him — may she live happily ever after and never take a single moment for granted.”

“Hear, hear,” Nadia and Stephanie chorus, clinking their glasses against Colette’s.

As the bubbles fizz on their tongues, the wistful faraway looks in their eyes betray the same thought — what they wouldn’t give to trade places with you for just a day, to know what it feels like to be cherished so completely by a man like Charles. To them, you’re living the ultimate dream.

If only they knew the best part isn’t the extravagant gestures or lavish gifts.

It’s the little moments. The soft kisses pressed to your temple. The fingers intertwined with yours. The sleepy smiles over morning coffee. The shared laughter and inside jokes. The unwavering support and unconditional acceptance. The bone-deep feeling of safety and coming home.

That’s the real fairy tale. And no amount of money could ever buy it.

***

Back in Monaco, Lando Norris slouches comfortably in his gaming chair, eyes glued to the triple monitors in front of him. He’s meant to be reviewing telemetry data in preparation for the upcoming race weekend, but the notification chime from his phone proves far too tempting. Lando picks up the device, fully intending to only glance at it for a second before dutifully returning to his work.

But then he sees it — the TikTok that at least a dozen people have sent to him in the past hour alone. Curiosity piqued, Lando clicks on the video and watches intently, his brows steadily rising towards his hairline with each passing second.

“Wait, is that ...” he mutters to himself as the clip plays out. When your boyfriend’s voice comes through the speakers, Lando’s eyes bug out comically. “Holy shit, it is Charles! And Y/N!”

A knock on the door makes Lando jump slightly. Before he can respond, a familiar mop of tousled chestnut hair pokes into the room. “Hey mate, did you see-” Max Verstappen starts to say.

“The TikTok of Charles simping hard for Y/N? Yup, watching it right now,” Lando finishes for him, eyes still glued to his phone screen in fascination.

Max invites himself into the room fully and flops down on the couch. “Absolutely crazy, right? Who just casually sends their girlfriend 10k for a random pair of shoes?”

Lando snorts. “Certainly not you, you stingy Dutchman,” he ribs playfully. Max chucks a throw pillow at him in retaliation.

“Hey, even I splurge on my girlfriend sometimes!” Max protests. “I just bought her ... erm ...” He racks his brain trying to remember the last lavish gift he purchased unprompted.

“A six-pack of Sugar Free Red Bull last week?” Lando supplies dryly.

“... Shut up.”

The two dissolve into snickers before turning their attention back to the TikTok, which has now looped to the beginning again.

“Charles is so whipped for Y/N,” Max observes, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “He’s just asking to get taken advantage of, throwing money around like that.”

“I think it’s kinda sweet,” Lando admits with a shrug. “He just wants to make her happy. Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if your girl asked!”

Max scoffs. “What, fall victim to a gold digger? No thanks mate.”

“Y/N’s hardly a gold digger and you know it,” Lando chides. “She works hard for her own money and buys plenty of expensive gifts for Charles too. They just like spoiling each other ‘cause they’re in luuurve.” He draws out the last word in a silly voice, making dramatic kissy faces.

“Yeah, yeah, true love and all that sappy bullshit,” Max says dismissively, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m just saying, no way in hell I’m sending 10k on command for a pair of fucking shoes!”

Lando hums thoughtfully. “I would.”

Max’s head whips around to stare at him incredulously. “You what.”

“If it was the right girl? Sure, I’d do it,” Lando says nonchalantly. “Maybe not for something frivolous like shoes, but if my girlfriend called me up and said she needed 10k transferred ASAP? I’d do it, no questions asked. You gotta have that level of trust.”

Clearly torn between wanting to take the piss out of his friend and feeling a reluctant sort of respect, Max just grunts noncommittally in response before turning back to rewatch the clip once more.

Debate rages online among the fans about the cute interaction. Most find the whole thing adorably romantic, cooing over what a doting and generous boyfriend Charles is. They swoon at the obvious love and care between you two, speculating excitedly in the comments about when Charles might pop the question.

Others are more cynical, rolling their eyes at Charles “simping” so hard and accusing you of only dating the Ferrari driver for his money. However, these naysayers are quickly drowned out and ratio’d by your legions of adoring supporters.

Through it all, you and Charles pay the speculation little mind, blissfully wrapped up in your fairytale romance.

Charles returns home that evening to the mouthwatering aroma of his favorite pesto pasta dish wafting from the kitchen. He grins when he spots you at the stove, swaying your hips to the sultry jazz music playing from the speaker as you stir the sauce. Quietly, he comes up behind you and slips his strong arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Mmm, smells amazing,” he murmurs appreciatively.

You turn in his embrace and loop your arms around his neck, smiling radiantly up at him. “Welcome home, Cha-Cha,” you greet him, using the silly pet name that never fails to make him chuckle and scrunch his nose adorably. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“And what’s for dessert?” Charles asks with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

Biting your lip coyly, you untangle yourself from his arms and saunter off towards the bedroom. “Come find out after we eat. Oh, and I picked up a little something special to express my gratitude for earlier ...” you call over your shoulder with a wink.

Charles’ megawatt grin could power all of Monaco for a year. Viral TikTok or not, the Monegasque knows he’s already the luckiest man in the world to have you as his partner through this crazy ride called life.

No amount of money could ever compare to the joy of being loved by you.

[lustlovehart]

I'm more curious about the reverse!Monster au, how are the others test boys and Fellow honest and Skully are like in this version?

I like to believe they’re generally the same as the dorm leaders actually. Unlike regular Monster!Twst who have the 7 wonders as the biggest wanted bounty in the monster hunter field, as well as their pesky magic capabilities, the seven in Reverse Monster!Twst, are basically regular people who are just highly capable at their jobs. The same thing goes for everyone else, they don’t have the super abilities their monster counterparts have, so they’re regular people as well. I can give a general consensus on how all of them meet readers though!

Pairings: Fellow, Skully, Neige, Chenya, Heartslaybul, Savanclaw, Octavinelle, Pomefiore, Diasmonia x Reader

First however, We should go over the others, as some of them aren’t officially apart of the Monster Hunters. Also, there is 100% spelling errors in here, so sorry!! Reversed

These men are supposed to be Monster hunters… So why… Why do they act more fiendish than a Monster like you?!?

Fellow - A con artist on sages quarter who regularly scams people on the streets. Karma catches up to him when he finds you hiding in the shadows, attempting to sell you a fake artifact, only for him to catch a closer look at you, and realize you’re the monster the Hunter organization has been looking for. He should run, but the closer he looks at you… You’d be quite the attraction… Many people would pay to see the all-famed beast in a cage! Synopsis: To which Fellow pathetically attempts to catch you, realizing as time goes on, maybe there’s more to you than just money… Leading to his obsession.

Skully - The information logger of the organization. He doesn’t hunt any monsters down but collects info brought back to make records. He's been obsessed with knowing more about you, as your existence is shrouded in mystery. Imagine his surprise when he’s working late at night, only to look up and realize his (few) pictures of you are missing! His long limbs stumble over to search, he trips when the feeling of a monstrous trait lies on the ground. He’s prepared to run out when he stops and finally realizes who’s sitting there. You look down at him, your eyes following his every movement. Well now… Now that he knows it's you and not some random, how could he ever let those other Hunters defile you?! Synopsis: Skully finds the love (or monster) of his dreams in his decrepited study room! Now all he must do is hide you away from everyone else… But how is he supposed to do that when you won’t even answer what you’re doing there?

Neige - A support Hunter, who rather than do the hunting, acts as medical backup on the field. There’s not much to complain about when it comes to him, unlike the other factions. People like the 7 Highers and their upper ranks are looked upon with admiration for their skill, but in the same breath spat at due to their more than disagreeable personalities. Not Neige though, he’s the only sweet person in the field. This is why his co-workers are in shock when they succumb to their wounds, watching Neige tend to the monster who has practically sent them to their graves. Neige looks back with a sad smile, but when he turns it shifts to a smile with great joy. Synopsis: The only healer in the work field, realizes he recognizes you, perhaps from a dream, or maybe another world. But all he remembers is how much he strived to find you again in this reality, slowly abandoning his life, in turn, to live this new one with you.

Chenya- The weird citizen who somehow always finds you. No matter how many trees, rocks, or even heads you throw at him, he just always seems to come back with a smile on his face. He’s not a part of the monster organization hunting you down, but he isn’t normal either. All you know is his name is Chenya, and he wants… You don’t know what he wants but he’s always there! You wonder if he’s a monster too, but the way he answers no so casually tells you he is just a regular human. So why is he everywhere??? Synopsis: This human holds too much mystery to be sure of his motives, but one thing is for sure, he has a great interest in always staying by you.

Heartslaybul Upper Ranks- They find out about you when they follow Riddle one day on a private job. The moment they see him confront you they silently cheer him on, completely expecting their tyrant of a unit leader to immediately behead you upon sight. When he doesn’t they’re left in a state of confusion, only further enriching the feeling when Riddle doesn’t kill you, but cages you. You escape his grasp once more and all of them overhear the way he whispers.

“I shall not let you escape…!” Now they’re curious as to why Riddle is so set on taking you, not because of the rules of his job, but because of his wants. You’ve successfully swayed the strict Rule-Followers heart, it only makes sense his soldiers have grown curious about you… They scramble away when Riddle walks in their direction, though now that they look closer… Are his cheeks blushed red? Ace’s snickers immediately alert their leader's attention, his face instead red with anger. “Are you the reason they’re gone?!” They’re all quick to run as Trey attempts to calm him. Surely, it can’t be that serious, You’ll get that monster next time! Trey is the only one who hears Riddles's confession of not beheading you, but rather… No, this should be a secret between them.

Ace and Deuce - Officially meet you on a mission, where their luck randomly has them crossing paths with a disguised you. When that cloak falls, the beginning of their infatuation is sparked. They can finally see you up close… and now they finally understand why Riddle is so obsessed with you. Ace throws a quick smirk at Deuce, silently communicating a plan. They feign worry as they pose as travelers, worried about your safety. They’re lucky you assume them to be innocent merchants and not secret hunters. However… are merchants usually this close to their clients? They’re basically breathing on you…!

Trey and Cater - You sneak into Trey’s part time bakery on Sages quarter, attempting to try all the food you have never tried. The both of them are assume you’re just a random monster that showed up, giving them extra work. They’re proven wrong when they instead find you. They’re quick to put away their weapons and beckon you over with sweet promises.

Savanaclaw Upper Ranks- First introduced to to the idea of you when they see Leona covered in scratches and bruises, they assume he either went out on a mission, or something else entirely. Their suspicions are proven wrong when they quietly hear Leona mumble your name, kicking rocks as he plans his future trap for his prey (you, though, not even Leonas sure if he can can call you prey. The moment he catches you, he already knows he’s gonna treat you way better than the meat slabbed on his plate). They remember the name quickly, a top rated bounty. Jack is proud at their unit leaders strong strive that hasn’t been seen in so long, while Ruggies wondering if there’s a way for him to get some of that money. One thing is sure, Leona certainly has them interested in you too (accidently).

“Damn monster… Ruinin’ my sleep…” The two of them watch Leona glare at a flower. They think he’s gonna sand it down to dust. They’re thrown off when he plucks it and pockets with a swiftness that’s honestly funny. Now they need to know who has their unit leader so starstruck.

Jack & Ruggie - Meet you when they’re training. It’s pure chance when the leaves of a tree rustle, a body falling out of its branches. They rush over, assuming it to be an innocent towns person who most likely broke a rib or two. They’re frozen when the body picks its head up, the pretty sight of the most heinous monster in existence (you) blinking at them in a daze. Ruggie laughs as he leans you on his shoulder. Well, now he doesn’t think he wants thatbounty money anymore. Jack was never in it for the reward, but he can’t deny he thinks the same as Ruggie.

Ocatvinelle Upper Ranks- They’re already aware of you from the get go. They were both hiding behind a tree as they witness Azuls first meeting with you. So, in a sense, their first meeting with you was right then, beating Azul with dark bruises before fading into shadows. They never tell him about their excursion though, acting oblivious when Azul vents to them about his encounter with you. Ohh…! He really thought he could get you…! They nod along, subtly feeding into his confidence. My, and they thought he only wanted the status! To think you changed Azul from just one meeting alone… You are quite the entertainer.

“I’ll get them next time…!” Azul slams his fist down on the desk, his weapons clattering at the impact. Usually, he would care about such damages, it’s expensive furniture! But the look on his face is something entirely different, as if he couldn’t care about that fortune anymore. What would it matter if he can’t lavish you in it? He buries his head in his hands, glancing over at the golden conch on his table. Monster like shiny things don’t they? Perhaps you’ll come out to him when you see it’s glimmer. Jade and Floyd giggle as Azul scrambles to form a basket of glittery objects. Jade shines the gold necklace in his hand, it’s comforting to know they all had the same idea~

Jade & Floyd - They finally meet you face to face after such a long time of only knowing your elusive nature, all because they flashed diamond and gold in the moons light. Despite the way you snarl and throw insults at them, they don’t seem fazed one bit. “Ehh, Shrimpy’s kinda pretty up close huh?” Jade nods along. That uniform of theirs looks familiar... That slimy hunter..! Though… You think you might prefer him over these two…

Pomefiore Upper Ranks- Another pair (#3) who stalk their unit leader. Though, Completely unwilling for Epel. The sight of a disheveled bruised and beaten Vil is distraughting for Rook, he’s only narrowly held back by Epel who clings to him. He whispers warnings to the blonde, if you got out there you’ll die! But to let a comrade in arms perish despite being so near must be a much more horrible fate! He’s already pulling back the string of his bow to kill an ugly beast like you. But then, Vil ducks out of the way, the moonlight hitting you, and allowing both of them to see the sight Vil saw so up close. The bow drops down as Rook gasps. My... You are the epitome of beauty.

“How horrible…” Vil sits up from the dirty spot on the floor, dusting off his uniform. Rook and Vil are ready to run up to him, but stop when they notice Vil lift an object up to the light, a sadistic laugh of victory escaping his throat. “Yet amazing.” a bottle of crimson liquid illuminates with the moon behind it. “You and I, should be the fairest together.” he covers the glass container in a sack. “But first, I should strive to become much fairer.” Epel is left quirking an eyebrow at a teary eyed Rook. He doesn't know why… But he feels like Rook wants to both hunt you, and court you.

Epel & Rook - Meet you because of Rook somehow picking up your disguised figure in an overpacked crowd. You’re unsuspecting to the hunters that lurk behind you, wanderingly aimlessly in your next feast. You’re about to open your mouth and take your first bite of a meal, when a gloved hand covers your mouth and brings you into the body heat. A mysterious blonde man look at you with a smile while he tugs. Non non, your face would be sullied with blood! Our queen wouldn’t like that, right Epel? The other hunter nods, tightening the rope in his hands. Something tells you it’s not just Vil who’s determined to see your beauty up close.

Diasmonia Upper Ranks- They’re alerted to your continuing existence when Malleus bursts through the door, his overwhelming strength almost shooting the hinges. It's been a while since he’s acted like this. The first time happened when he first became unit leader, his cause of disarray being a sighting of you he missed by two minutes because Crowley kept the sevens meeting running long. It doesn’t take much to assume this next cry is caused by you as well. They’re proven right when Malleus tightens his fists, cracking the statue near the door with a strong hit. The utterance of your name proves them right. He takes a glance at the pictures of you ripped from books, each one adorned with a flower he believed to fit your aura in the frame. He turns back with anger and sorrow, walking away from the board.

“I finally saw them… But was it even worth it if I couldn't speak to them?” The confession leads to panic. Malleus… Finally met you? So… You do exist! They’re about to cheer for him, but remember his current unpleasant mood and deter from the decision. Though, the only thing left to do then is get you for him, is it not? They all collectively look at each other before leaving the chambers with great haste. Lilias laughing with joy, Silver is dazed yet still determined, and Sebek… Well, he views you with disdain, as you are a filthy monster, the things they’ve sworn to kill and protect the world from. But, you are the object of Malleus’s interest, so… He should most likely pursue you.

Lilia & Silver & Sebek - Meet you through a sucessful plan, where you glare at them from above the fire they have you dangling over. You’re shouting curses at them, hoping at least one will cast and bring misfortune to their lineage. You grunt in frustration when nothing lands due to your panic. Lilia tilts his head at you, questioning if this is really the monster blessed with the highest bounty in history, as well as Malleuses infatuation. Though he can’t deny it, he’s quite curious too, and he can confidently say the other two feel the same way. Silver is fully awake for once as he stares at you, even Sebek doesn't seem as uptight. In both of their minds, you’re a danger to Malleus, but you’re also his in the same breath, which is why... They feel so guilty for feeling the same way he does towards you. Lilia laughs as he swings you towards his arms, catching you with a strength unbefitting his frame. It seems you’ve captured both Diasmonas Unit leader and his uper ranks.

And perhaps… Maybe all of Sages Quarters key people.

To every ones misfortune, their traps fail and Monster!Darling escapes from them everytime, further increasing the missing count of Sages quarter, and perhaps the world.

[celestialprincesse]

💕♤

Simon Riley, who you meet at the casino after a long night with a bad date, and you can't help but fixate on his clearly expensive suit clad back as he thumbs methodically through his cards at the poker table.

Simon Riley who doesn't dare stare back at you in your trance for fear of frightening you away like a startled doe. But hell if he doesn't love the way your eyelashes flutter slightly and your breathing becomes a little staccato.

When he catches your stare, you startle, torn between making a run for it and actually allowing yourself to live a little. When he beckons you over with an inviting tilt of his head, you decide the latter. Simon Riley plays at the high tables with the people who don't have to worry whether they win or lose, but unlike many of his cohorts, Simon does not drip with ostentatious wealth or ugly, monogrammed name brands.

"You play?" He hums to you, and his voice makes you squirm. His words feel sultry, seductive, like the bass which trembles through your feet at a club, despite his lack of technically seductive language. Your head shakes subtly as you angle him a wide eyed stare that definitely isn't meant to seem as erotic as it does - but when you gaze up at him with such reverence, he can't help but feel drawn to you.

When he asks if you'd like to, and you again deny him through fear of blowing all his cash due to your immense lack of a poker face, he guides you to sit with him anyways, at first on the edge of his chair, but after a few complimentary Martinis, on his lap. Most of the men at the table lech at you and your slippery, satiny dress like you're some high class whore invited to the table for their entertainment, but for Simon, you feel like luck on legs - pure class. He'd be lying if he said that he wouldn't like to take you back to his room and see tears filling those obscenely pretty eyes whilst you whimper around his cock, but he'd never act on it. Not when you look so nervous just sitting there on the sinewy muscle of his suited thigh. He can't say the same for some of the men he plays with.

He's careful to indicate that he's into you whilst not making you uncomfortable. A brush of his knuckles against the curve where your ribs meet your waist or a twist of his fingers around a stray lock of hair tells you enough without making you feel flighty - and when he offers to walk you back to your room in the early hours of the morning, he doesn't barge his way into your simple, impersonal hotel room, he simply leaves you with his suit jacket slung over your shoulders, phone number in the pocket and a promising kiss to the cheek.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

I wanted this to be a oneshot but now I have casino series brainworms ᥫ᭡

[bitter-me]

Golden Hour

Jing Yuan | M. Reader

----------

Reincarnation AU

----------

There's a particular painting inside the Luofu Museum. It's a painting of the former General, they say that the General never smiles and always has a blank expression. That painting is the most precious and one of a kind in the whole world...

Why?

Because it's the only time...

Where the General finally smiles...

----------

"Huh... "Wise and Brave; Jing Yuan." Hey, wouldn't it be funny if he's actually you from the past?"

"Nonsense, we just have the same name."

[Name] turn his head towards the white haired man with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah.. Sure.. But you do have the same smile as him." He said as he look back at the painting in front of them.

The General in the painting looks almost identical to the man standing beside him  down to the same smile. Then again, [Name] couldn't imagine Jing Yuan being all stoic like, a smile fits him better. "You know... They say that the General had fallen in love with the Strategist in the Xianzhou, some even say that the Strategist was the reason why he started smiling."

"Really?"

"It's just a myth though, don't know if it's true."

Jing Yuan chuckles at that statement, after all myths are just myths, there's no telling if it's real or not. It's probably fake, people usually make up things just to satisfy their own fantasies, but something in him tells him otherwise.

That maybe, just maybe... It's the truth.

.

.

.

.

.

"ARE YOU INSANE?!"

"It's the most optimal solution, General."

"BY SACRIFICING MY MEN!?"

"Losing a handful of soldiers are better than losing civilians, plus—isn't it their duty to give their live for the people and die in battle?"

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT WITH SUCH A CALM VOICE?!" The General huffs as he glared daggers at the man in front of him, the man who proposed the very strategy that practically sacrifices his men "for the greater good." Jing Yuan always wonder how this man is able to be the Strategist of the Xianzhou...

A man who stood to benefit from betraying others... It's not proven or anything and yet...

Jing Yuan is certain that he'd turn against the Reignbow Arbiter in a heartbeat...

There's isn't a sane bone in his body.

The other man sigh at Jing Yuan's response as he crosses his arms and spoke up with his usual calm yet firm voice. "And here I thought you'd be more reasonable, given that you're the General."

"The leader of an organization is at the pinnacle of it and, at the same time, he is its slave. The leader must be more than willing to commit any atrocity in order to ensure the organisation's survival."

He hates it.... He hates this man so much...

How could he talk about that so casually? As if these men... Were just mere pawns to him... After all sacrificing a few pawns means relatively little if it means your King's safety.

'He's not thinking about the people.. He's thinking about the Xianzhou Loufu's survival instead...'

"They were right about you... You're a wolf in sheep's clothing..." He started as he continues to glare daggers at the man. The man only gave him an unamused look as he asked in a calm voice. "And why would you think that?" Jing Yuan scoffed at the question as he crosses his arms. "Talking to you is impossible."

"But in all honesty, give my strategy some thought, General."

"There's nothing left to think regarding that. I want you to change it this instant."

The man sigh at the order he was given, he uncrossed his arms and took back the papers from the General's desk. "As you wish."

And with that... The man left his office.

Jing Yuan sigh as he put a hand on his forehead and look down at his wooden desk. "I can't believe that man... [Name] was it..?" He mumbled under his breath.

'It's as if a life meant relatively little to him.'

.

.

.

.

.

"I never knew you could be a skilled doctor.."

"I was the Head Physician before becoming your strategist, General."

"..."

The two fall silent as [Name] bandaged the general's wounds. It seems even the "Mighty General of the Loufu" can get hurt. How fascinating. Once he's done, [Name] lets out a sigh and puts back the supplies he had used. "I suggest you shouldn't go to any missions at the moment. Let your wounds heal."

Jing Yuan remains silent as he inspects his carefully treated wounds. The bandages aren't too tight, and his body isn't as sore anymore. [Name] might be a sociopath with the types of strategies he comes up with. But he's a wonderful physician. Maybe he should stay as one.

"Can't have you start bleeding out in the middle of a fight after all. Unless you wanted me to operate on you then go ahead."

Jing Yuan can't help but sigh at those words. Of course the doctor has to open his mouth and end it on that note... even if he's good, [Name]'s still a sociopath though..

"...Understood."

"Good."

.

.

.

.

.

The crowd was silent as they watched the starskiff flies to through the sky. Reaching greater heights. "Another sent of.." The doctor mumbled under his breath.

"Sad, isn't it?"

"Not really."

Oh you sociopath! Jing Yuan snapped his head towards him. He was about to argue until he saw a soft smile on the doctor's face. A soft. Melancholy. Smile.

"It's not sad. It's poetic." [Name] says softly as he watches the starskiff. "In a way, if you're at a loss, you could look up at the sky and.... remember that they're watching over you.. and there's nothing to be afraid of.." Turning his head towards the general, [Name] gave him a closed eye smile as his hair got caught in the wind. "It's almost romantic, is it not?"

Jing Yuan felt a strange and warm feeling on his chest. Without thinking, he returns the smile with his own. "If you put it that way.. it is kinda poetic.."

----------

"Well... I heard that the Strategist is far more worse than the General." Jing Yuan spoke up, making [Name] turn his head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" He asked as he crosses his arms, waiting for am explanation. "Yup, they say that the Strategist is a sociopath. I've also heard that the General was the reason the Strategist began to have a "heart". " Jing Yuan concluded with a smirk on his face.

[Name] can't help but chuckle at those words. For some reason.. he had a feeling it was true..

[forever-rogue]

i saw you wanted tasm Peter requests and I’m here to provide! 😭✨💕

how about a fake dating-ish meet cute where you feel scared walking home bc of some sketchy looking people following you and you grab Peter’s (who lives in the same building as you) hand and ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he readily goes along with it bc he’s always had a crush on you. I just think he would be so sweet and worried later when you get home bc you’d looked super scared

AN | No but I love this idea!! It’s sort of a meet-cute!❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | mild language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't drunk.

Not drunk-drunk anyway but mildly tipsy. Or wholly tipsy if you were being completely honest with yourself. 

Anyways, that wasn't the problem, at least not entirely. Walking home through New York, late at night and tipsy by yourself, a young woman on her own, probably wasn't the best idea. But the party had dragged on and on and your friends had already left with their…friends for the night, and you were tired, hungry, and bored.

So you decided to walk home. You somehow managed to convince yourself that brisk evening stroll would make you feel better. You hadn't been wrong for the most part but as once you got closer to your apartment building, an uneasy feeling started settling into your stomach. 

You looked around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but you could see that there were two guys that seemed to be watching you. You ignored it for a bit, but when you noticed that they seemed to cross every street that you could, and turned all the same corners, you grew worried. 

Trying to keep the panic at bay and act normal proved to be difficult. You thought for a moment that you might have been paranoid or overreacting but you'd seen enough true crime documents to know that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Your salvation came in the form of the man that lived in the apartment across from you. 

You vaguely knew him and were almost positive his name was Peter Parker. You just hoped right now that he'd help. 

Speeding up, you caught up to him a few moments, quickly reaching for his arm and stepping in front of him. 

“Hi, hi,” your eyes were wide and he immediately grew concerned, “I know we don't really know each but we live in the same building, you're actually across the hall from me. I - this is - can you please pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for a little bit? There's these two guys that have been following me for a while now and I'm-”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently cutting you off as he instinctively reached for your hand. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you laced your fingers through his and fell into step with him, “I'll take care of you.”

You squeezed his arm, “thank you.”

He nodded and turned around a corner to see the men you were referring to. When he spotted the duo that you had to be talking about, he shot them a warning glare. At a few moments, he could see realization cross their features before they seemingly altered their path.

He made sure to keep an eye out on the rest of the way back to the building. Luckily he didn't see them again. He hoped that they hadn't decided to go and find someone else. 

It felt like you could breathe again as you pulled your hand from his and turned to face him. You were taken aback for a moment by how beautiful he was. Sure, you'd been him around the building plenty of times before but you'd never gotten to look at him this closely. 

“Thank you,” your voice was soft - gentle - was you offered him a small smile, “I thought that maybe I was going crazy for a bit and then I kept seeing them. I just didn't want anything to happen. Thank you for probably saving me from them. It's, sorry, you're Peter, right?”

“I am,” he nodded as you offered him your hand for a proper shake and introduction. He said your name and you looked at him in surprise, “we've been neighbors a while and I just…caught it sometime. I'm glad I found you too. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I'm cold, hungry, and slightly buzzed but I'm alright,” you promised, “thanks to you. I swear I owe you big time.”

“You don't owe me anything,” he insisted as he started to shrug off his zip-up sweater. He'd noticed the dress you were wearing and wondered if you'd been cold. He held it out to you, causing you to look at him with sweet eyes, “take it. I don't want you to be cold.”

You already knew better than to argue with him so you gratefully it took and slipped it on, immediately overwhelmed by his delicious scent, “thank you, Peter.”

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He wasn't entirely sure if he'd meant to ask, but it just sort of blurted out, “I-I was thinking about ordering some pizza.”

Liar. He was a damned dirty liar. He hadn't thought about pizza but he also hadn't wanted to let you just leave to go to your apartment. Not now, not yet.

“Yeah?” Your face lit up and he nodded shyly. He'd order the whole pizzeria if you wanted just from that smile alone, “that sounds good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Realistically, you probably shouldn't have just trusted Peter so readily, especially since you'd just had the run-in with the creeps on your walk home. But there was something about Peter that told you that he was trustworthy. 

So you didn't hesitate to follow him up the stairs to the floor where both of your apartments were. You stopped instinctively at your door and Peter paused for a moment.

“Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be able to read your mind, “do you want to meet on the fire escape once the pizza's here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I'll see you in a little bit.”

“Sounds good,” he started to open his door but quickly turned around, “wait! I didn't even ask you what kind of pizza you like.”

Your laugh was pretty as you turned and gave him your requests. He offered you a small salute before both of you went into your respective apartments. You closed the door gently and leaned against it, letting out a small sigh.

This evening had definitely taken a turn that you hadn't been expecting. But somehow, it turned out a lot better than you had imagined. Plus, you finally got to really meet and speak to the cute boy next door. He'd caught your eye from the moment he'd moved into the building, but you'd never quite managed to work up the courage to say anything besides the neighborly hello here and there. And now…now you were wearing his sweater and going to have pizza with him.

You almost danced to your bedroom and spent entirely too much time trying to pick out something comfortable but cute. You wanted to be warm and cozy but didn't want to look like you were trying too hard.

You ended up settling on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, but pulled Peter's sweater back on. You wanted to hang onto it for as long as possible. You managed to slide on your slippers as you heard a knock on your door.

“Pull yourself together,” you hissed at your reflection, “and act normal…somewhat normal.”

Slowing your walk to the door, you opened it in an attempt to look casual. Peter had the same idea and had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You almost choked on your spit at the sight. What a bastard.

“Ready for some pizza?” You nodded as you followed him towards the fire escape at the end of the hall. He slid open the window and stepped out, offering you his hand to help you. You didn't hesitate to take his hand, trying not think too much about his large his hand was compared to yours, “nice sweater by the way.”

“You better watch it or I'm going to steal it forever,” Peter really liked the sound of your laugh. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it with him forever. 

“Keep it,” he insisted sweetly, “looks better on you anyway.”

“Stop,” you groaned as you sat down, gently pushing his side, “that's how you get a girl to call in love with you.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks pinked, “is it working then?”

He didn't know why he felt so bold or what had gotten into him but he was feeling something. Maybe it was just your magnetic presence but there was something about you that made him feel so warm and comfortable.

“Peter,” you weren't about to admit that the answer was yes so you just scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “I should have said makes all other girls fall in love.”

“Mhmm,” he opened the pizza box and nudged angled it towards you, “dig in. I hope you like it because it's from one of my favorite places.”

“It better be good then or I'm afraid I'll never speak to you again,” you teased, grabbing a slice and taking a big bite. Peter watched you with an amused as you quickly realized that this was indeed delicious pizza. You quickly finished the rest of the slice before offering him a nod, “alright you've passed this test. The pizza is delicious.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It's getting pretty late,” you said softly as you looked at the softly glowing screen of your phone. It was a lot later than you had realized; the two of you had ended up talking for hours, the pizza all but gone, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly, “you're right.”

“I had a good time though,” you promised as he nodded shyly, “thanks for saving me tonight…and all of this. It's times like this that remind me that not all people are terrible.”

“It's no problem,” he insisted, “I'm glad I was there when you needed me. I had a good time tonight, regardless of how we got here.”

“Me too,” you offered his shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside and waiting for him to do the same, “I'll see you around, Peter.”

“See you around,” the two of you went into your respective apartments and you quietly shut the door, trying to hold in your sounds of excitement. Your night had taken a complete 180 but you weren't complaining. You'd been wanting to meet the boy for the last couple of years and now that you'd gotten to spend some time with him, you only wanted more.

The question then was - how do you spend more time with Peter Parker without making it obvious you might have fallen in love with him?

You’d figured that out sometime later. Right now you were going to soak all of the good feelings you had into your body as you went to bed.

Little did you know that just across the hall, Peter was doing the exact thing. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You tried to run into Peter after that evening whenever you could. You would slowly leave for work in the morning and then take your sweet time coming home in the hopes that you would run into him somewhere in the building. But over the next couple of weeks, you managed to have no luck. It suddenly seemed like he had an opposite schedule of yours. For a moment you wondered if it was on purpose, but you knew that he wouldn’t do that.

Peter was hoping for the same thing; work and his…extracurricular activities kept him busier than ever. He had to be at the lab early in the mornings and often wasn’t coming home till the midnights hours. There were a few times when he’d contemplated knocking on your door, even if he just got to see your pretty face for a few moments. But he didn’t want to disturb you so he kept on waiting for the right moment to see you again. 

It turned out that the right moment happened to be when you were getting ready to go out with some friends one evening and Peter was coming home, looking run down and tired. His face and entire being lit up at the sight of you. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure that he would be able to hear it (unbeknownst to you, he definitely heard it) or it would burst out of your chest. 

“Hey-”

“Hi-” the two of you spoke at the same time before looking at each other sheepishly. You felt like your entire face was on fire as you looked at your feet for a moment to study your nerves, “hey Peter. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know,” he tried to contain his excitement when he realized that you had been missing him as well, “I can’t believe our luck. For years we saw each other all the time and now…nothing. Kind of feels like the universe is laughing at us.”

“I thought about coming over,” you admittedly sheepishly, “but I didn’t want to bug you. I wasn’t sure how you late you were working or…yeah.”

“I thought about the same thing,” he confessed as you grinned at him, “but I’ve been working longer hours so I’d get home late and didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t have been a bother,” you shrugged it off, trying to make it seem like no big deal when in fact it was a huge deal.

“Good to know,” he huffed a small laugh before clearing his throat, “I should, ugh, let you go. I don’t want to keep you from your date or whatever plans you have.”

“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, wanting to shut that train of thinking down right away, “I was just going to meet a few friends for dinner and drinks.”

“Cool,” he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to hear that, “I hope you have fun.”

“Unless you’re not busy and want to get dinner,” you only had a bit of courage left as you got the words, wondering how he’d react, “like together I mean.”

“I’m not busy, I’m free,” his stomach felt like it was doing backflips, “but are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll just text my friends,” you waved your hand dismissively as you pulled out your phone, “they won’t mind. Trust me.”

They really wouldn’t. They’d been hoping and rooting for you to get with the pretty boy next door for some time now. 

“Cool,” that was an understatement, “let me just go and change and then we can go. I’ll come to yours in a few minutes.

“Okay,” you breathed nervously, unable to hide the smile on your face.

“Okay,” he agreed softly, his eyes and smile big and pretty, “luckily this time it���ll only be a few minutes and not weeks.”

“It was too long.”

“Definitely.”

[bountycancelled]

decisions

luke castellan x child of hecate!reader

requested: yep! I hope you like it anon

warnings: allusions about death, but no character dies.

content: yall, it's 1 am rn, and I just wanna go to sleep. it's unedited and nothing bad happens I promise. I'll do a proper content thingy in the morning. pls enjoy while I pass out.

"you know those kids are probably gonna have nightmares for at least a week, right?"

you didn't need to turn to know who was behind you as you leaned against a tree trunk, toying with a twig in your hands. Luke castellan seemed to have an affinity for interrupting you anytime you found solace in being alone. you didnt know how he just... knew, when and where to find you during times like these, but he always did. you found yourself minding his presence less and less as time when on.

"they should consider themselves lucky, I was debating whether or not I should just summon a ghost for them tonight, but I figured they couldn't handle it, and this camp doesn't have any trauma counselling so." the leaves on the twig in your hand withered at an accelerated place in your hands, and a part of you felt bad. you usually kept your distance from anything living since you knew your touch had the possibility of having an adverse, and sometimes deadly affect, but tonight was just one of those nights.

Luke chuckled at your words, plucking one of the now wilted leaves from the twig in your grasp as he spoke up once more. "you know, I actually want you to help me with something, if you don't mind. I need help deciding whether or not I should do something."

you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look. "you know I can't make decisions for you. I don't have the ability to know what consequences you'll have to deal with."

"isn't hacate the goddess of crossroads?" Luke countered, a small smirk on his face. you knew that he was only pestering you because he thought it was funny that you always needed to explain your abilities and your godparent to people, but you couldn't just keep silent at his bait nonetheless.

"that doesn't make me some kind of fortune teller, I can't decide for you which direction to go to when you reach a fork on the path. I just have a vague understanding over what you're currently debating if you should do."

"okay okay, no fortune telling. but can you at least point me in the right direction? it doesn't matter how vague." he asked, and you tilted your head to stare up at the starry sky, because you knew that even in the dark, Luke could convince you to help him with nothing but a pleading glint in his deep eyes.

he didn't relent at tour silence or your avoidance of his gaze, uttering a small "please?" which finally broke your resolve.

you took a deep breath, finally looking at him once again, your face deep in concentration. "not a guide either. but I get the sense that... if you don't do what you're thinking of doing, you'll regret it." you felt a bit lightheaded afterwards, but the tree you were leaning against was enough security for you.

Luke on the other hand didnt seem to think so, showcased by how his hands immediately went to your shoulders in an effort to keep you up, while also unintentionally coming closer. a bit too close for comfort, but you were too foggy for the lack of distance to hit you yet.

he nodded at your advice, biting his lip before speaking once again, not missing the way your eyes flicked towards his lips and then back to his eyes, almost instantaneously.

"then I'll just go ahead and say it, I like you. a lot." he had expected a few different reactions, you immediately jumping into his arms and accepting his confession (his personal favourite hypothesis), you shyly stating that you felt the same way, you being shocked that he had feelings for you at all (he liked to believe that he wasn't entirely obvious) but he didn't expect what you did next.

instead, you blew air from your nose, giving him a look he couldn't quite place. "you have horrible taste. and you're also delusional. we've had maybe 4 conversations the entire we've known each other, and you like me?" you rolled your eyes, shaking your head at the words you were about to utter. "but I guess that makes me delusional too, because I feel the same way."

he pouted at your words, feigning hurt with a hand placed on his chest. "you wound me. if I had known you were gonna be this mean... I would've confessed sooner." he added with a slight smirk, trailing his other hand from your shoulder down to your waist, leaning his face towards yours.

you were quick to shut down his advance, maneuvering your way out of his hold. "one thing you're gonna need to get used to, castellan. no touching. at all. at least, not until I'm sure I can control my ability. you have a goodnight though." you called out as you walked away from a now needy Luke, leaving him leaning against the tree.

he quickly followed after you, trying to plead his case. "no touching? that's insane, how could I not touch you? I'm not afraid of death, especially if it comes from my hands on your body, or vice versa. I'll happily forfeit my life for a kiss. come on, I'm fine with just a peck. actually, no. I take that back. if I'm gonna die, we need to make out before I go."

you simply shook your head, reiterating your rule, unable to stop a grin from forming on your face. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a serious look in your eyes. "... okay. but just a peck. im serious."

it was not just a peck. but luckily, Luke made it out alive. (though, he seriously wouldn't have minded if he didn't.)

[gilbertscurls]

hey could u do a story on how chris would skip classes to make out with girls for the whole period? thank uuu

hope you like it!! <3

Live a Little ➵ Chris Sturniolo

part 2!

The last bell of the day rang, and students poured out of classrooms, eager to escape into the late afternoon sunshine. Senior year felt different—there was a sense of finality to everything. Everyone was making plans, talking about college applications, and preparing for the next chapter of their lives. For you, though, high school had become a blur of routines and responsibilities, an endless stream of homework and stress about the future.

But for Chris Sturniolo, things seemed... easier. While you were juggling AP classes, extracurriculars, and planning for college, Chris was barely showing up to half of his classes. The rumor mill was always buzzing about what he was up to, and more often than not, the stories involved him skipping class to hang out with girls, spending entire periods in secluded spots around the school making out. He had a reputation, but somehow, he never seemed to care.

You had known Chris for a while, not well, but enough to know he wasn’t all that concerned about his grades or what people thought of him. He was always laid-back, joking around, and never seemed to take anything too seriously. It was both infuriating and fascinating at the same time.

Today, you found yourself lingering by the lockers, shoving your books into your backpack, when a voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hey.”

You looked up to find Chris standing a few feet away, leaning casually against a locker, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of trouble. It wasn’t unusual to see him around, but the way he was looking at you now—directly, with a hint of something more—made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your pulse quickened.

“Heading to your next class?” he asked, though you knew it was just for show. You could tell by the glint in his eye that he had something else in mind.

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah… unlike some people, I actually go to my classes.”

Chris chuckled, pushing himself off the locker and stepping closer, his presence commanding and easy. “Come on,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you don’t really need to go to every single class, do you? It’s senior year. Live a little.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you was intrigued. “Are you seriously trying to convince me to skip?”

“I’m not just convincing you to skip,” Chris said, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, his gaze locking onto yours, “I’m convincing you to spend that time with me.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. There it was—the infamous Chris Sturniolo charm that so many girls seemed to fall for. But you were different. You weren’t like them, right? You had a plan, goals. You weren’t about to throw that away for a guy.

Still… something about the way Chris was looking at you made it hard to say no.

“And what exactly would we do?” you asked, crossing your arms, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this situation.

Chris grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to the closeness between you. Against your better judgment, the thought of skipping class—just this once—didn’t seem so bad. After all, it was senior year. What was the harm in having a little fun?

Before you could overthink it, Chris reached out and gently tugged on the strap of your backpack. “Come on,” he urged, his voice soft and coaxing, “let’s go.”

You hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding, allowing him to lead you down the nearly empty hallway. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed him, half-excited, half-nervous. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t skip class, didn’t just ditch your responsibilities for a guy—but this was Chris Sturniolo. And there was something exhilarating about stepping out of your comfort zone with him.

Chris led you to a part of the school you didn’t frequent—the old wing, where barely any students hung out. The classrooms were mostly used for storage now, and the halls were eerily quiet. He opened the door to one of the abandoned rooms, glancing back at you with a playful smirk as he held it open for you.

You stepped inside, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. The room was dimly lit, with dusty desks scattered around and old textbooks piled in the corners. Chris closed the door behind you, the sound of it clicking shut echoing in the empty room.

Before you could say anything, Chris was in front of you again, his hands gently gripping your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes bore into yours, the intensity making your pulse quicken. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath soft against your skin as he leaned in.

“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” Chris whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Your breath hitched. You wanted to deny it, wanted to say that you hadn’t given Chris Sturniolo a second thought, but that would be a lie. There was something about him—something about his carefree, rebellious nature that intrigued you, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back, though the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

Chris chuckled softly, his hands sliding up your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. “Liar,” he teased, his voice low and sultry.

And then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, testing, but it quickly deepened. His hands gripped your waist tighter as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. It felt so wrong, but so good at the same time.

Chris backed you up against one of the desks, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the edge. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but he silenced you with another kiss, his hands now roaming your body, sending sparks of electricity through you.

It wasn’t like the stories you’d heard about Chris—about how he’d make out with girls and then move on, never caring about what happened afterward. This felt different. There was a hunger behind his touch, yes, but there was also a tenderness. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t treating you like just another girl. He was taking his time, savoring every second.

You broke away for a moment, your breathing heavy as you looked into his eyes. “Chris…” you started, but he cut you off with another kiss, his hands cupping your face.

“Just this once,” he whispered against your lips, his voice full of heat and desperation. “Let me have this moment with you.”

And against your better judgment, you did.

The minutes passed in a blur of kisses and soft touches, your heart racing with every moment. You couldn’t believe you were here, in this empty classroom, making out with Chris Sturniolo of all people. But it felt right, somehow. Like this was where you were meant to be, even if it didn’t make sense.

Eventually, you pulled away, both of you breathing heavily. Chris rested his forehead against yours, his hands still on your waist, holding you close. For a moment, everything was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of your breathing.

“We’re gonna get caught,” you whispered, though the thought didn’t seem to bother you as much as it should have.

Chris smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Probably,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But it was worth it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” Chris shot back, his smirk widening.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did love it—loved the way he made you feel, like you could break the rules just for a little while and the world wouldn’t fall apart.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Chris pulled you in for one last kiss, slow and sweet. “We should probably get out of here,” he said, his voice softer now.

You nodded, slipping off the desk and smoothing out your clothes, trying to compose yourself before heading back into the hallway. Chris grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you walked out together, not caring if anyone saw.

For the first time in a long time, you felt alive. And maybe, just maybe, skipping class for Chris Sturniolo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274

[bittersweetorpheus]

☆ THERE IS NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN ☆

The original sin is the fairest: everyone sinks. make the most of the final feast, because for the sinners, the curtain call has come.

☆ CONTENT WARNINGS ☆

Spoilers for 4.0 Fontaine archon quest, pov switches, co-dependency & obsession, hints of soft yandere

“I’m not quite sure when it began, but a prophecy has been circulating around Fontaine: the people will all be dissolved into the waters, and only the hydro archon will remain, weeping on her throne.”

This has become a fact for the Fontaine people, with the water levels slowly rising and consuming parts of the nation. Everyone has different opinions on this- some ignore it, deciding to live in the moment- surely they’ll be long gone before water consumes the whole nation, some believe it’ll be like returning to their origins, and some dread it- how horrible must it be to dissolve into water and possibly lose themselves forever?

But mostly, the Fontaine people have been resigned to it, and gone about their day as normal. The water levels were rising pretty slowly, anyways, so it wasn’t their problem yet. Or it wouldn’t be, if the rising water was still moving at the same pace. However…

☆ 1 WEEK BEFORE THE DUEL ☆

Your awakening is a gentle one.

Or, atleast, it is for about a minute or two before you realize you’re underwater. You panic, scrambling around like a fumbling idiot for another two minutes before you finally get your wits about you and realize that you are, in fact, not drowning and are breathing like normal even though you’re underwater? Unfortunately, along with that realization comes the fact that you… well, where even are you?

You take in your surroundings. Ignoring the fact that you’re underwater for some reason, it’s actually… very pretty. There isn’t a single piece of litter in sight, and you don’t have a hard time seeing, as the water is clear and beautiful. An underwater cliff arches a few miles behind you. The lush ocean ground beneath you splits apart and a trench can been seen below it that splits into multiple different paths leading even deeper under the ocean. The ocean floors and cliffs are lush and foliage is all around you, ranging from huge and tall stocks of plants resembling a mix between flower stems and lilypads to areas with plants the color of autumn leaves. Fish can be seen almost everywhere- crabs that glowed a mesmerizing blue, tiny tidalage, seals splotted in pastel colors, groups of fishing swimming together, and more.

The clear, litter free ocean, bright foliage, and adorable pastel creatures make for an idealized version of an ocean. And, surprisingly, they seem familiar somehow.

Wait…

You give the seals nuzzling you one last pet, and make your way to the surface of the water.

You surface. Huge mountains with colorful foliage surround the ocean. A beautiful city can be seen in the distance, with some ships floating near it. Some sort of bridge can be seen running from the city and through the mountains. It goes so far that it disappears from your line of sight.

Oh.

Oh. Your guess was right. You’re in Fontaine. You stay there for a bit, astonished. You push that to the back of your mind, you’ll deal with it later. But first, did you still have your inventory? You cross your fingers- please, please, please! Archons, you spent so much money getting all those weapons and characters and so much time just farming materials and artifacts. You shudder at the thought of losing all your progress. You’ve already checked the banners, and they’re the same as usual, so you close your eyes, trying your hardest to imagine opening your inventory and-

Huh? What? You are, once again, astonished. You close your inventory and open it again- maybe its just a glitch? Or maybe you’re delirious. You open it again. Nope. Nothing’s changed.

When did you have all these characters- you’re pretty sure some of these characters haven’t even become playable yet. And all these weapons? Wait, how good is your artifact luck? How is this possible? Are you gonna be banned for hacking? Can you even be banned if you’re actually in the game?

You slowly close the inventory once again, still in shock.

Surely this is a dream, right? Yeah! It’s just a lucid dream, even if it feels so realistic.

You decide to spend your time exploring and petting more animals- maybe even meeting some characters! Who knows when you’ll be able to dream like this again.

Yep. Just a dream. You’re just dreaming, thats all.

☆ 1/2 WEEK BEFORE THE DUEL ☆

Dozens of rain droplet streak down the stained glass windows of Nuevilette’s office. Jazz plays, alongside the sounds of a heavy downpour of rain and the ticking of the clocks in the office. He finishes flipping through the files and leans back in his padded chair. He hasn’t been able to do much work these couple of days, always anticipating the familiar feeling of warmth flooding into his body and being guided to do things, but it never came, and with that realization, the rain had started to pour even harder.

Had you finally abandoned him? Had he not concealed his feelings well enough? Were You able to see through his facade? Had You finally noticed his concealed feelings whenever he saw You guiding the ever so immature Furina, or doing exploring the city with Navia? How the corner of his lips would curl down every so slightly whenever You took the warden, Wriothesley, to go ice-briding when You felt bored, one-shot bosses with the Champion Duelist Clorinde for fun, or farmed for talent materials for the magician triplets?

He may not understand humans and their emotions, but even he knows what these feelings are. So, he promises that he’ll stop soaking in jealousy or anger when you fawn over the two Fatui Harbingers or anything of that sort. Just… come back to him. Don’t abandon him. Comfort him like You always do. Praise him, praise his appearance, praise his personality, please come back, he needs You.

But he knows that You haven’t abandoned him. You’re still here, in fact, Your presence is stronger than ever, and the whole of Teyvat is flourishing, almost like its in celebration of something. So, where are You?

Neuvillette sighs, standing from his chair. He’d better check on Furina- who knows what she may be doing without your guidance. As he starts to walk to the door, his long tailcoat brushes against his desk, making a file that was buried beneath all the others fall down, onto the ground. It’s contents sprawl on the floor.

He bends down, picking up the papers and placing them back into the file. As he does, he skims over the contents.

He frowns. Could it be true?

☆ 2 DAYS BEFORE THE DUEL ☆

People are whispering, and Focalor is frozen in place.

The whispering grows louder. She can make out hushed and anxious tones.

“What’s she doing just standing there? How disrespectful.” She hears.

She snaps out of her state of awe, and tries to take grasp of the situation. Unfortunately, in her panic, she says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Imposter!”

☆ 1 DAY BEFORE THE DUEL ☆

“And what do you say to these claims?” Nuevillette asks, snapping ‘The Imposter’ out of their stupor.

“No.” ‘The Imposter’ says.

Nuevillette frowns, “no? I ask that you elaborate.”

“How am I supposed to defend myself if I don’t even know what I did wrong?” ‘The Imposter’ reasons, still not fully processing the situation.

“Hah! Trying to act dumb won’t work here. You know what you did!” Focalor interjects. Truthly, this situation had come to be because of her carelessness and now it had spiralled way out of her control. She can’t take back what she said now, so she’d had to pray for the best. She dug her grave, so she might as well lie in it and hope for the best. I mean, surely it was fine, right? Surely this is an imposter. “If you can’t defend yourself in court, than you might as well duel to prove your innocence.

“I- huh? Alright, then.” ‘The Imposter’ says, not seeing any other choice. “I request a duel, I guess.”

“Very well, your request is accepted. You will be dueling against Clorinde tomorrow at dawn.” Nuevillette says.

People slowly filter out of the court room in anticipation for the day of the duel.

Focalor has a sinking feeling in her gut.

☆ THE DAY OF THE DUEL ☆

Clorinde sits at the harbor, too ashamed to watch over The Creator.

The duel had lasted no more than one or two minutes. The Creator had made no move to fight back, and Clorinde had made quick work of Them. It was only when she had made her way over to Them to end Their life when she noticed the ichor that spilled from Their many wounds. Her heart sunk into her chest. In a panic, she screamed for doctors. She had tried her best to keep Them awake, but They had already fallen unconscious by the time the doctors arrived.

Obviously, The Creator was still alive- who knew what would happen to Teyvat if The Creator, Themselves, Died. But she couldn’t get the image of their unconscious form out of her mind. The sin she’d committed weighed her down like the anchor of a boat.

She sighed, standing up shakily, starting the walk back to the city and…

Wait. Was the water level always this high?

Oh.

Oh. 

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Mine - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI Fluff & Angst

JJ x KookExGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: language, name calling, child birth and it’s side effects.

📖 JJ’s ex is pregnant and the baby is his 💕

5k

Reader’s POV:

JJ has come by every day since the breakup, never at the same time. His beautiful blue eyes still find a way to catch mine. I iced him out completely, ghosting him only a few weeks after we made it official.

We had been pining after each other for years, rushing into everything when we finally got what we both wanted. We never once thought about playing it safe, fucking raw in the back of his Bronco that night, and every chance we got after that. We couldn’t get enough of each other… Every time we were alone, our hands were on each other, clothes thrown across the room, tangled up in sheets.

“Fuck that,” was the last thing I heard him mumble to John B before he and his friends disappeared for weeks. They talked about hooking up, girlfriends, and how the last thing they want to deal with is a pregnant one after John B. and Sarah had a scare of their own. ‘We’re too young. They’re too expensive. I’m not ready for that shit. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? There’s no way in hell’.

And here I stand.

Nine months and five days along, hiding it from him because, at this point, I’d instead go at it alone. I didn’t know where he went, and when he came back, something had happened. I could tell something was going on with him and Kiara. The longer I was away, the closer they got. He seemed happier with her. I can do this myself… even though I don’t want that. Not at all.

He still calls me from time to time. Usually late at night when I’m already asleep. JJ doesn’t always leave a message, but when he does, it’s a jumbled mess of drunken words.

I’ve shut out all my friends. The only people that know are my parents and the little old lady next door. They think it’s some random tourists. My parents kicked me out on my ass after I decided to keep the baby. 'You think you’re so grown? You think you can handle this pinching pennies? What kind of life is that?’ They gave me up that day. 'If you want to act like trash, you can live like trash.’

But who’s the actual trash here?

As much as I wanted to return to my simple life, I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t bring myself to get the abortion they were more than willing to pay for. I went from a Kook to a Pogue in a matter of seconds. And, at my twenty-week appointment, when I saw that little boy in my tummy, I knew I made the right choice.

I snagged an office job pretty fast: a beautiful spot, a real-estate agency close to the beach. The clientele is great, Pogues with just enough money to hire someone to sell their little shacks instead of doing it themselves. Work, community college, sleep, rinse, and repeat. I’ve saved enough to buy a crib and some basics… Stopping by the thrift store just off Figure 8 to nab some Kook’s hand-me-downs. I want to give this little boy the life he deserves… I want to prove my parents wrong.

I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart after the baby is born, rushing to plunge that silver spoon straight into his mouth and 'save him from all this.’ But, come to find out, this life saved me. An existence under their thumb is not where I wanted to be. I don’t want to raise a Kook. I want to raise a Pogue. I just wish I knew what I was doing. I really wish I had Jayj.

You look out the large front window, watching as he passes by, surfboard looped under his arm as he steps toward beach access. His eyes drift your way, turning ahead before he disappears again. Shit. You look down at your stomach, watching the baby turn, your round tummy rolling with the baby’s movements.

Like clockwork, you’re hit with a braxton hicks contraction. Your belly squeezes taunt, breathing strained, causing you to draw little breaths, blowing them slow. You look up at the wall, watching the clock strike 5. Yes. Grabbing the armrest, you struggle to stand, pressing yourself up. You waddle toward the door, turning the open sign to close before nabbing your keys.

The warm summer air kisses your skin as you pass through the door; the sunset paints the sky in the west. Fuck. Your stomach contracts again, a contraction so intense you have to grab the brick wall for support, eyes screwing shut as you breathe through it again. “Hey…” Your heart sinks, eyes flashing open as you meet JJ’s wide gaze.

“Hi,” you force the word through tight lips, still clutching the wall.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently. JJ’s stare falls down your body, landing on your bump, your hand cradling the bottom out of sheer practice.

“M'fine,” you whimper as you turn quickly, clipping toward your shitty little car before he can ask anymore, tears brimming in your eyes.

JJ’s POV:

I watch her car slow-roll over the speed bump, steering through the parking lot into her tiny carport. My muscles are tense; emotion pooled in my eyes as I watch her battle to get out of her car. I know she’s pregnant. I didn’t ask. It was the first thing I wanted to blurt out. Even though my dad’s a grade-A asshole, he still taught me that shit ain’t polite. I just didn’t think she would disappear that fast. She grabs the handrail, heading up the steps, pulling open the apartment door before falling out of sight.

Everything was fine until I left… And, when I came back, she was gone. She fuckin’ vanished, dropping me for no one, from what I’ve seen, at least. She’s shut herself in completely, never coming out.

I couldn’t help but check on her every chance I got. Make sure she’s okay. I should have known something was off. Her family’s loaded. There’s no reason that Kook Princess should be hanging out around here. She should be off at some fancy-ass college, living the dream. The second I saw her in that office, red flags should have been waving left and right, but they didn’t.

She didn’t want to talk. I could tell… The look in her eye was enough to let me know to stay the hell away. That, paired with the fact that she never called me back. Most of the time I wasted… I can’t lie. It was probably for the best. But she saw my number and chose to ignore it; decided to leave it unanswered. Somethin’s goin’ on… Maybe she’s gotta new boyfriend. There’s no reason why she’d be here otherwise… Unless there’s more to the story. 

Maybe all this is 'cause I told her I loved her. I don’t know, but that’s the last thing I said before I left. And I still feel it. I still love that woman. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she was ready, and I left, and she started to second guess everything. I mean, how could she not? I vanished, then she did… Can I really fault her for doing the same exact shit?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My body jumps, chills running down my spine as headlights flood my rearview mirror. Goddamnit. I’ve gotta make a decision, in or out; am I gonna do this or not? I stomp on the gas, speeding ahead, barreling away as my tears break free.

She was a good girl before she met me. I wasn’t a virgin, but she was. She gave that to me. I don’t think she was sleeping around with anyone else.

That baby’s mine. I know it.

Reader’s POV:

DING.

You drag your body over to the microwave, snagging your TV dinner. The apartment is quiet, just the lull of the evening news playing in the background. Plopping down on the weathered couch, you snag the remote, flicking through the channels aimlessly until you find your comfort show, snuggling in a little more as you swirl your spaghetti on your fork.  

Grabbing the remote, you turn it a little louder, trying your best to drown out the thoughts raging in your head. The interaction with Jayj, the horror in his eyes, the way you left, fleeing the scene altogether. I miss him. Every part of him. God, he is so fucking beautiful. Those goddamn eyes, and that perfect face, his voice. I - DRIP. DRIP.

You look between your thighs, a wet spot gathering on your sweatpants, dribbling onto the floor below. You pinch the bridge of your nose, expiring a frustrated breath. As if this day wasn’t mortifying enough, let me add pisses your pants to the list… You close your eyes softly as a tinge of nausea sets in as well.

Maybe if I take a shower, I’ll feel better… You rise to your feet, liquid continuing to trickle its way down your leg.

Shit…

Is this it? It wouldn’t be far-fetched. I’m past my due date. Did my water just break? You feel your bottom lip wobble, muscles stiffening as you face reality that that might be the case.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Fuck. You look down at your soaked pants. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“One sec, Dot,” you call out for your neighbor.

“Umm… Hey. I-It’s JJ,” you hear his muffled voice behind the closed door. Everything stops; your body, frozen as you watch him through the little kitchen window, just a crack of sight through your curtain. No. You shuffle toward the bathroom, clutching your stomach, a new sensation of emptiness you hadn’t felt before.

“Ow… Ow… Oh my god,” you gasp, holding the bottom of your stomach. “It’s fucking happening… No. Fuck!” You scream, another contraction rocking you. The soft knocking turns into a loud bang. “Let me in, y/n. P-Please. Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You grip the doorframe tightly, trying to center yourself, to no avail. The room starts to spin around you, stomach churning, mouth salivating. Am I going to throw up? Why am I gonna throw up? You trip slightly on the rug, falling to your knees, crawling the rest of the way toward the toilet.

“Y/n?” JJ yells as he frantically fiddles with the doorknob, knocking at the glass trying to open that as well.

“Ja-” You go to answer, letting out a cough instead, emptying your stomach into the bowl. Then you hear it: metal on metal as the doorknob twists.

“Y/n?” JJ stutters, his boots bounding toward the bathroom. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” you cry as you see a look of sheer panic in his eyes. “Why are you here?” You whisper.

“I-I… Umm… I don’t know?” He spurts as he moves a little closer. “Do you want me to c-call your parents?”

“No!” You shout. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want them here,” you yell. JJ’s eyes open wider.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, Jayj. Don’t apologize.”

He kneels close, rubbing your back softly. “Did you need me to clean up out there for you? Do you want me to get you a new pair of pants? Or maybe a glass of water? A rag? You want a rag? Yeah?” You throw up in the toilet again, causing JJ to release a sympathetic gag.

“Jayj… you can’t do that,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. M'sorry, y/n,” he sighs, trying to compose himself. “Here.” He grabs a scrunchie off the counter, gathering your hair in a ponytail.

“Thank you.” You grip the toilet tightly, trying your best to calm down, but it’s simply momentary. “Fuck,” you howl, your pain wrapping around your back to your front.

“Y/n, s-shit,” JJ whimpers, dropping his head in his hand. His own personal panic setting in. “Are you - fuck,” JJ tries to speak, but the words aren’t easy. “Are you pregnant?”

“Is that not clear, Jayj,” you cry. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to go to the bathroom, JJ!” You scream, voice bouncing off the walls as you feel pressure building between your thighs.

“O-Okay. Of course. Do you need help standing?”

“Will you get me a bucket first?” JJ nods at you rapidly. You let out a loud cry, whole body pain, indescribable hurt. “Fuck!” You scream.

“Should I call 9-1-1?”

“The bucket, JJ. Please!”

“Okay. Alright. Sorry. S-Sorry!” he panics, running out of the bathroom. You hear him bang around in the kitchen, talking himself into a frenzy.

“Grab anything, JJ! Please!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ. It’s fucking hot in here.” You rip off your shirt, tossing it to the side.

“This! Okay… This will work,” he cheers breathlessly, running back into the bathroom with a pot. You quickly tug your pants down, taking a seat on the toilet. You draw the pot under your chin, breathing deeply.

“Fuck… this feels so much better.” You moan, feeling slight relief in this new position. A new heat rises in your cheeks, humiliation brewing as you feel the weight of JJ’s gaze on you. The last night he saw me, I was in a paisley sundress, his arms around me, lips locked on mine. I felt beautiful. JJ always made me feel that way. He told me he loved me. That girl. Not this one. I can’t believe he’s seeing me this way: tummy round, naked, sweaty, sick, and in pain. All I can do is cry.

JJ walks over, kneeling before you as his beautiful blue eyes search for yours. “Y/n, we gotta get you to the hospital. Okay?” His voice is gentle and calm. JJ tucks some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear as you match his watch. You can see his eyes getting glassy; he’s also completely and utterly overwhelmed, still trying to stay calm for you.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mewl.

“Hey, s'okay. You’re gonna be alright. We just gotta go, baby.”

Baby. The guilt hits you next, hard and fast. How would I feel if roles were reserved? How would I feel if this secret was kept from me?

“JJ… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

JJ swallows thickly; the tears pooled in his beautiful blue eyes break free as he looks back at you. “The baby’s mine?” He fights the words past his lips.“This is amazing… I just - I. Fuck. It’s okay, honey. But, why - Why wouldn’t you just tell me, y/n?" He whispers, his voice hoarse and broken with emotion.

"I didn’t want to ruin your life, Jayj. We had just started dating-”

“Ruin my life? Why would this ruin my life?” He cuts you off in disbelief. Your muscles tighten, a sharp pain radiating as you try to remain in the moment with him. You can see his face change with yours, seeing the pain in your eyes. “Let’s go. Let’s get you to the hospital,” he whispers as he rests one hand on your cheek, the other set lightly on your tummy.

“I can’t move, J,” you whimper.

“I can carry you. Okay? The hospital is only five minutes away. I can get you there in three. Fanciest driver in The Cut. You know that. Yeah? We’ll be there in a heartbeat. Everything’ll be fine. We’re okay. Okay?” He sniffles, lifting the neck of his white tee shirt to wipe the emotion out of his eyes. “Let me get you some clothes, sweetheart.” You nod in reply, gripping the counter tightly as you battle through the pain of another contraction.

JJ races back into the bathroom as fast as he came out, handling you carefully as he tugs on your oversized t-shirt and shorts. He guides you to your feet, helping you into your Converse sneakers, tying them tight before lifting you into his arms. You clutch onto him as you ride out another contraction, burying yourself in the crook of his neck. Your tears wet his shirt as he walks with you toward the door, stepping out into the night. “You’re okay, baby. You’re alright," he soothes, kissing you gently on the temple.

JJ tugs open the door of the Bronco, setting you inside before sprinting around the front. JJ flicks the keys, making the engine roar. He throws it in reverse, peeling out of the parking lot before skirting onto the main street, making you clutch the grab rails for support. "Shit. Sorry, princess,” JJ winces as he sees the fright in your eyes. He thrusts his hand into his pocket, thumbing through his cell phone as he dodges through traffic.

You can see the tears still sparkling in his stare; JJ’s jaw coiled tight as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line. He’s terrified, just like you, his phone trembling in his hand. “Hi. Uhh… Shit. My girlfriend and I are on our way in. She - she’s…”

“In labor,” you whisper, helping him along.

“She’s in labor. We’re about two minutes away. Uh… Umm, let me ask,” he breathes, eyes snapping your way. “How far apart are they? Have you been timing them?”

“Timing what?” You ask sheepishly, watching as JJ’s eyes lighten on yours.

“Your contractions, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper, cheeks hot with shame again, your ignorance on display. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I should know this. Why don’t I know this?“

"S'okay," he whispers. JJ looks down at the dash, eyeing the little clock.

"Fuck, Jayj,” you sob, the pressure of another contraction setting in.

“Shit. Sorry - sorry, I’m here. Umm… Like four minutes tops? Yeah. Mhmm… She’s close,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat. “Yeah. Yeah - The front. We’ll meet you out there.” You try your best to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you see the hospital sign glowing like a beacon in the night. JJ stuffs his phone back in his pocket, reaching for your hand instantly, weaving his finger in yours before drawing them up to his lips. He kisses your hand, lingering on your skin, hiding his quivering lips.

“Motherfucker!” You scream, driving your heels into the floor of the SUV; yet another contraction barrelling through your body as you pull up to the curb. JJ grits his teeth as you squeeze his hand tight, surely drawing blood.

JJ’s POV:

“Take a deep breath for me, y/n,” the nurse aids. Y/n’s eyes slam shut, her beautiful face scrunching in discomfort as the nurse checks her further. “Okay… 10 centimeters,” she says calmly. “I see some hair.” Y/n’s eyes remain shut in fear as she nods her head frantically. Her little hand squeezes mine again; the only relief she can get this far along. I can’t believe she almost did this alone - all by herself. What if she couldn’t have made it to the phone? 

Why can’t she call her parents? Why is she alone in the first place? Why wouldn’t she just tell me? I feel my thoughts start to race with the beating of my heart. “Y/n,” I whisper. Her gaze matches mine, sending me into a spiral as I see the speckles of red against the whites of her eyes, popped blood vessels, and tears pooled in the corners. Heat rises behind my eyes again as I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re doing so good, y/n.”

“M'not,” she hiccups, hand clutching her little bucket as she waits for her tummy to turn again. “I let you down, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. M'not fucking ready-”

“Y-You’re ready,” I stammer; the stutter in my voice deceives me, but I mean every word. “You didn’t let me down. I went into your room, y/n. I saw the crib, all the clothes you have hung in your closet, the baby book with all the Post-it notes sticking out. You’re ready. 'Course you’re scared…” My voice fades to a hush as she tucks herself in my neck. I’m instantly struck with Deja Vu, thrown back into the night that changed everything. The last night she was mine… I clear my throat, beating my lashes shut.

“The baby’s a boy, Jayj,” she whispers gently.

“Yeah?” I ask happily as I choke back tears, feeling her nod against my shoulder.

“M'sorry, Jayj. I-” Y/n fleeting words turn into a wail, nails digging into my forearm.

“Please don’t apologize, y/n,” I soothe, kissing her head. “You’re so strong, baby girl,” I whisper in her ear, feeling her muscles contract.

“We’re going to need you to start pushing, y/n.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers.

“You can, baby. You can.”

“You know how you feel like you need to go to the bathroom? Push like that. Okay?” Y/n shakes her head no.

“You’ve got to, baby. A'ight? You’re amazing, y/n,” I breathe, moving closer. She presses her forehead against mine, gritting her teeth. “You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.” Y/n presses her quivering lips against mine, taking my breath away. Those lips… Holy shit. My hand wraps around the back of her neck, drawing her even closer. “I missed you," I whisper shakily. 

"I missed you too, JJ,” she echoes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj,” she whimpers.

“M'not goin’ anywhere. M'not leavin’ you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sobs.

“Y/n?” The nurse calls. “What’s your pain level when you have a contraction?”

“10,” she soughs.

“You’re going to have a contraction in a few seconds. We’re going to need you to push hard. When you feel it coming on, take some deep breaths. When you hit 10, push. Okay? JJ, we will need you to count to ten for her. Y/n, we want you to push all 10 seconds.” I can see the shift in her face; her pain, increasing. Her grip on my hand gets tighter. Y/n’s eyes shift to mine, giving me a nod.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

“F-Fuck!” She screams, her eyes slam shut as her body trembles in pain. “S'not working,” she snivels.

“It’s working. You’re doing a great job. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor assures. “This next one might be it, but you’ll have to push really hard.”

“Did you hear that, baby?” I breathe, my lips resting on her forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“You’re doing a great job, Y/n,” the nurse whispers. Y/n’s eyes flutter shut, wincing in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t believe a word of it.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

“Ow… Ow… No. It burns,” she wails. The words catch my throat as I push back tears.

“We have him. Keep pushing.”

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

She lets out a guttural scream; the doctor catches a baby, drawing him out. “Oh my god,” I breathe.

“Oh… H-Holy shit,” she whimpers. “Is the baby okay? Is he breathing?” I hear the baby’s high-pitched cry. A wave of relief crashes over me. Y/n dissolves in my arms as we look out for our little boy. 

This was the last thing I expected, the furthest thing from my mind when I woke up this morning. But, now, here I am. Here he is. Here she is, my beautiful fucking girl. We made him… He’s ours.

“I’m so glad you came, Jayj,” she cries.

“Me too, baby. Holy shit.” I grab a towel from the nurse, blotting the tears and sweat from Y/n’s face. “You did so well, y/n. Fuck. You okay, honey?” I mumble before meeting her lips.

“M'okay." God, I can’t stop. I kiss her deeper, making y/n smile against my lips. "I missed you,” she whispers.

“I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so damn much,” I sigh.

“You’re going to be such a good dad-”

“You’re going to be such a good mom. The best mom. The baby’s so lucky to have you as a mom,” I babble, kissing her forehead and cupping her dewy cheek. I hold y/n tightly, watching the nurse cradle the baby in her arms. She sets him on the towel, cutting and clamping the umbilical cord.

She walks over, resting the baby on Y/n’s chest, and in that moment, I feel a shift. Everything seems a little clearer: her, him, and they’re both mine. My heart feels like it could fucking burst as I look at him in her arms. He’s so tiny, so small and fragile. I just want to keep him safe.

Y/n’s lips rest on his tiny head, a pink and blue striped bonnet covering a mess of blonde hair, just like mine. “Jayj,” she whispers, extending him to me. I draw the baby close, blinking, my tears gone. He’s so peaceful; his eyes shut tight. I can feel the warmth of his little breaths against my skin.

“Wow,” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling as tears fall. Y/n rests her head on my shoulder. We’re okay. Everything’s okay.

“You look beautiful,” I breathe.

“You’re a liar, JJ Maybank.” Her nose scrunches, eyes rolling away. Fuck. I missed her.

“I’m not. I promise.”

“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again,” she chuckles through a sigh, hands resting on her once-rounded tummy. 

“You jokin’?” I scoff. “Been dreamin’ about that for the last, what, nine months now? S'the first thing we’re gonna do when we get outta here.” Y/n chuckles as she raises an eyebrow, making me double back.

“6 weeks, Jayj,” she whispers as her flushed cheeks blush even more.

“No…” I gasps. “You sure? I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doin’, princess. Gonna need to fact-check that shit.” I give her a taunting look, making her roll her. “M'just kiddin’, sweetness.” Taking out my phone, I flick to the calendar, checking the dates. “The 24th, baby girl.” Y/n lets out a sleepy little laugh, tucking herself in my arms again.

“Babysitter?”

“Mhmm… Whoever you want,” I soothe.

“Sarah and Pope.”

“Ah, Cameron and Heyward. Couldn’t agree more, baby.” She snuggles in a little closer, her eyes on the little bassinet, watching the baby sleep. “So…” I sigh as I take a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I’m officially a Pogue, Jayj?” She asks weakly.

“Yeah… I’ve got a few questions, princess. That’s a good start,” I mumble, resting my lips against her temple. She takes a deep breath, expelling a laborious sigh.

“Umm… Well, my parents didn’t want me to have the baby-”

“Stop,” you whisper, shaking your head 'no.’ “I think I know where you’re goin’ with this, and I can’t hear it. Alright? I don’t want you to say it either. Please.” Y/n bites her cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry - m'so, so sorry.” I cup her cheek, kissing her lips. “You got me… You got all my friends - you’re friends. This baby will be so loved, y/n. I swear.”

“Okay, Jayj.”

“Thank you for not doin’ that, baby. I just - I can’t even imagine that now,” I breathe, feeling my throat tighten as I watch his little chest rise and fall.

“It was never an option, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, y/n? Why did you think it would ruin my life? Why did you break up with me-”

“JJ,” she breathes as she rests her hand on my chest, grounding me again. “That was a huge fucking mistake. I’m so sorry. We had just started dating, and then you left. And, right before you left-”

“I was talking to John B about what a nightmare this shit would be…” I cut her short, dropping my head, nodding as I put the pieces together.

“When you came back, Jayj, I didn’t know what to do. And, I saw you with Kie, and you looked like the two of you had somethin’ goin’ on. Between that and my parents, I felt it would be easier for everyone if I went at it alone.”

“Kie is just a friend. Alright? She always has been. And life isn’t easy, y/n,” I whisper. “You know that just as well as me. Doesn’t mean that the hard isn’t worth going through. I swear I will be here for you both if you’ll let me.”

“Really?” Y/n asks shakily.

“Please, y/n.”

“I need you, J. I want you in my life,” she whispers, an unease in her tone like you may say anything but the apparent 'yes.’

“I need you too, princess.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she warns. “I have read books, sure, but if today showed me anything, it let me know I’m not fucking ready.”

“S'not true, honey. I’ve seen you with him already, and you’re a natural. We’ll figure this whole parenting thing out together,” I smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj.”

The lights are low; the sky is dark, only the glow of the television casting light in the room. Drawing back the blankets, I climb inside, pulling her back into my chest. I focus on the sound of her breathing, the way she fits in my arms, just like I remembered, just like I dreamt about. Her soft, supple skin and the sweetness of her perfume surrounds me.

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she calls. A hospital worker walks in with a bouquet. Y/n smiles brightly, setting them down on the counter. Reaching over, I snag the card from the top and pass it to her; a little smile stretches on her lips from the sweet gesture alone. “To our newest little Pogue. Welcome to the family, baby boy. Love, Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, Aunt Kiara, and Uncle Pope.”

Y/n reaches up, brushing the tears from her eyes as I do the same. “Your friends are pretty special, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Our friends, baby,” I smile. “They’re gonna be so happy to have you around again.”

She smiles and nods before tucking the little note back into the bouquet. Tonight was horrifying… a stark contrast to this moment. The woman I love is no longer in tears, no longer in agony, no longer scared. She’s my light… My safe place.

“What were you gonna name him, y/n? I’m sure you already have something in mind.”

“Jaxon James.”

“JJ?” I hum happily as I pull her in tight. Her sparkling eyes match mine, a blissful smile setting in her perfect lips.

“He looks just like you, Jayj; your nose, your hair, your eyes,” she sighs dreamily. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s so damn cute. Oh my god,” I whisper; catching a glimpse of his round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Can he have your last name, Jayj?”

“Oh wow,” I breathe, her question alone conjuring up yet another round of tears. I flutter my lashes, doing my best to keep it together. “Of course, baby. Thank you. That means a lot to me… You mean a lot to me,” I whisper.

“You two mean everything to me, Jayj.”

I hold her cheek in my hand, brushing her buttery-soft skin with my rough thumb. “We’ll start with him, then you, of course. When the time’s right.”

“Yeah, Jayj?” She whimpers through tears.

“I never stopped lovin’ you, y/n. Of course, I wanna be with you forever. Let’s start with the first step. Huh? Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

She grabs my face, lips crashing into mine as her body language alone screams 'yes’. My hands fall down her body; the familiarity of her in my arms feels just like home.

“Of course, Jayj.”

“6 weeks. Huh?” I tease, peppering kisses on her beautiful face through a gravelly laugh as she giggles and smiles.

“I love you, JJ.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[jockbroski34]

New Year's Resolution

Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.

I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.

I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.

I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.

He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.

"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."

I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.

"Look at yourself dude."

I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.

"You good bro?"

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.

"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"

I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.

"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."

He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.

I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.

"You feeling better, bro?"

"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."

And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.

We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.

"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."

Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.

After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.

"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.

"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.

"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"

"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.

[tomasweetheart]

UNLEARN MY HURT — s. kiyoomi x gn!reader

sypnonsis: growing up in a home where lashing out was normal, it's weird to have someone be so patient with you as you unlearn all those toxic behaviors

warnings: mentions of fighting, reader never learned how to properly express themselves (me), sakusa is so loving and patient that it's sickening, hurt/comfort-ish??, established relationship, use of petnames (angel)

notes: i want to preface this by saying, i used my own experience with my toxic household so i'm sorry if it doesn't resonate with everybody, i also wrote this at 5 in the morning so if there're mistakes whoopsies, i'll fix them later

something people don't realize, is that sakusa kiyoomi is a patient man.

he's patient with atsumu when he's annoying him, he's patient with hinata and bokuto as their rowdiness becomes too overwhelming for him, and he's patient with himself as he takes deep breaths to avoid snapping.

sakusa kiyoomi is in touch with emotions and is open about how he feels. he seems brooding and closed-off, but he's the last person to hesitate to tell someone how they're making him feel.

sakusa kiyoomi is your polar opposite.

it's hard for you to open up about a lot of things, especially anger. it's hard for you to keep it in check, so you push it down. the more you do it, the worse it becomes. which leads to your small irritation becoming full-fledged rage at the simplest of things.

this is something that rings true tonight as you walk through the door to you and omi's shared apartment, pinching the bridge of your nose with closed eyes as you let out a heavy sigh before you hear kiyoomi emerge from the living room.

"hey," he says softly as his eyes look at your figure up and down (that's something else about kiyoomi, he can read people eerily well), he can almost smell the anger radiating off of you, "...you wanna talk about it?"

he walks over to you and puts a comforting hand on your shoulder that you shrug off almost immediately as you walk to the kitchen, where he follows.

after a few minutes of silence as you get yourself a drink, you turn to kiyoomi with furrowed brows, "why don't you ever get mad at me?"

sakusa blinks a few times in confusion before he furrows his own brows, "...what?" he questions in that same soft tone, "you want me to get mad at you...?"

"no," you say firmly, almost in a sneer, "i said, why don't you ever get mad at me."

truth be told, you were yelling at yourself to shut up and stop while you were ahead. ultimately though, you decided to ignore your better conscience as you continued to attempt to push his buttons.

"i mean, if you shrugged my hand off of your shoulder and ignored me, i'd be fuming," you admitted, your voice slowly getting louder, "i just...don't understand why you never scream, why you never get mad at me and take it out on me as a response."

sakusa took a deep breath before he responded calmly, "because what good would that do us, angel?"

your eyes widen slightly as you look at him, searching your brain for an answer, "because..." you mumble as you trail off in useless thought.

you can't actually think of any reason, you just know that's how your parents dealt with things. pushed them away until it got too much to handle, and then snap at each other almost over nothing.

you look away from him with slight embarrassment as you swallow the lump in your throat as sakusa walks over to you, holding your face between his hands.

"it wouldn't do me any good to yell at you, even if i'm irritated with you," he said, "i just find something else to take it out on, like the volleyball court or taking some time alone. something i can do to process how i'm feeling."

you look up at him as your eyes become glossy, placing your own hands on his where they rest against the side of your face.

"angel, i love you, but pushing down how you're feeling isn't healthy," he says in a comforting tone, "and it also isn't healthy to take it out on someone who hasn't done anything. i know emotions are hard, okay? but i need you to understand that i'm here to help you through them and figure out what works best for you."

you looked up at him and nodded as you blinked, a few tears running down your face in the process that sakusa quickly wiped away.

"so how about we go sit down, and you tell me what's actually wrong, okay?" he asked again in a soft tone, a warm smile tugging at his lips.

you nodded again as you took his hand, sitting down on the couch as you prepared to open up.

he was right, emotions are hard, but having someone as patient as sakusa kiyoomi around makes them a little bit easier.

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Living with Luca Headcanons

Warnings: Mildly suggestive, references to violence, period-typical sexism.

Angst and Fluff ahead.

Domestic Hcs

Luca Changretta is a man of simple, yet refined, taste. He keeps a fine house for you, nothing too showy but comfortable and far from the poverty he grew up in. He will spare no expense at keeping you happy in his home, you only need to ask. If you want a garden, he’ll pay to build a greenhouse so you can tend to your beauties year-round. If you like to bake, he’ll pay for more ovens so you can bake bread while baking pies at the same time. If you like to paint, he’ll give you a room to do just that. Luca is never grandiose about it, no. He never drops these gifts on you among others or as a big gesture. You’ll be walked to your gift with his hands over your eyes at the most. 

When Luca comes home to you, it’s with slow, lumbering steps. All he does is run about the city, knocking heads and greasing palms. And this Devil gets up early, so he’s exhausted by the time he sits down in his favorite chair. However, even in his worst state he is not without elegance. Luca will sink into his chair and try to stop you as you pull off his jacket and shoes. He’ll relent in his attempts at shooing you when you offer to rub his shoulders. He can’t say no to that. Once you put your hands on him, all the weight just falls away. Your thumbs rub slow, deep circles, and his eyes close as a low groan rattles through him. He likes to take one of your hands and kiss the back of it as his way of telling you he’s grateful. 

He may pay the bills… but you’re the Lady of The House. That means that nobody is allowed to disrespect you when he’s around. You don’t often get to see Luca angry, but he gets very upset when male guests curse in your presence. He swears very little around you due to being rather traditional about what is and is not suitable to say or do around women. For a guest to act that way around you is to spit in his face and tell him it’s rain. There have been guests that were escorted outside by Luca never to be seen again…

When you’re feeling down, he likes to turn on the record player and pull you into a slow dance. Holding you close as he hums along to the tune. You can’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders and sway with him, breathing in the smell of his cologne mixed with tobacco and most likely a bit of gunpowder. Luca Changretta is many things, but he’s a gentleman and a romantic over all others. 

Relationship Hcs

With his trusted few (or men he’s about to kill) he likes to overshare about you. Take for instance a bookie that’s squealing to the cops. Luca and his men have busted into his apartment to interrogate him, when he sees the bookie likes to paint. Luca will take a few minutes to ask him, “What sort of paint— or medium do you prefer? Acrylic? Hm. My lady, she’s all about watercolor. What are your thoughts on surrealism?” 

Luca isn’t all glamour and big gifts, he likes the domestic life with you. Marriage to him isn’t the life ruiner that it is for other men. With how brutal his work is, the mundane feels like a sanctuary. Which means he treasures every little thing you two do together, including gossip. He’ll listen to you vent while reading a book or flipping through the morning paper and actually follow along. He’s a master at multi-tasking. Mr. Changretta never forgets important dates, or names. If you complain to him about Agnes from bookclub, he will remember her and her annoying dog the next time you bring her up. However, do be careful how upset you let yourself seem about people… Luca likes to “solve your problems,” for you.

As stated above, Luca is traditional. If you are to marry him, he expects you to stop working. You can have as many hobbies as you like! But Luca Changretta will not stand for the future mother of his children to be straining herself at some job. He would honestly be offended, as he would take it as you not trusting him to provide for you. It also goes without saying that he would be paranoid that an enemy of his might be able to hurt you if you were out in the open like that. But really, his first thought would be: “What would she want a job for?”

Another thing that will bother you about him is that he is a man of secrets. Luca will not tell you what’s on his mind if it involves his “work,” or any sort of violence. He doesn’t like to bring his bloody business home with him at all. So much so, if he so gets a drop of blood on his suit, he’ll go to one of his many apartments around town and change. In your moments of insecurity during the earlier stages of your relationship, you can’t help but think he’s changing his clothes after cheating on you. It takes time for him to let you know of the darker parts of him. That said, Luca will never fully let you in. When he’s grieving or furious, he hides it. Smiling in your face the whole time he talks to you about seeing some family in England for Christmas.

[jointherebellion215]

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile…. 

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

[nyrasproblm]

Ignorance: part 1/?

Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You confess to Joel and are rejected.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: ANGST, mention of deaths, typical canon violence, end of the world, Jackson!Joel.

note: this story had already been posted before my blog was deleted and is also available on AO3.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Ignoring the bad part of things was your favorite thing to do. It made you less sad and gave a false sense of normality in the destroyed and rotten reality you lived in. Not that Jackson was destroyed and rotten, but the world outside the gates was. So that's why you ignored everything, the spores, the cordyceps, the clickers, runners, lurkers, all of them. You did everything to escape being put on patrol, you wouldn't leave Jackson unless it was a matter of life and death. Your tasks in the community were taking care of the gardens, the stables and cleaning the community cafeteria.

 

It seems like a lot, but it's good for not looking idle and useless, it takes up your entire day and gives you a feeling of work accomplished and satisfaction at the end of the day, when you climb the few old wooden steps to the porch of your house. Those steps really need replacing, actually. If you stood still for more than a few minutes on top of them you ran the risk of falling. But you left that aside, you had something else in mind. In fact, you had one person in mind.

 

That almost completely gray-haired man, with a grey beard, robust, deep and serious voice, strong Texan accent. Joel Miller. You couldn't stand being around him for more than a few minutes, your heart was beating very quickly and you felt butterflies in your stomach. The man was Ellie's father, a girl a few years younger than you, she was a bit foul-mouthed but nice, you had already spoken to her a few times.

 

You held your breath from the first time you saw him in the community a year ago, and it's never been the same since. Whenever you passed him on the streets you held an idiotic sigh, you felt like a teenager for acting like that, but you couldn't help it. The man had your heart in his hands and you couldn't do anything to get it back.

 

Some people in Jackson spoke badly about Joel behind his back, saying he was a surly, violent man who had a lot of mood swings. One of your few friends, Emily, said the same thing when you mentioned Joel to her, but you ignored it. It wasn't like he was that bad, it should just be that the hard years he lived outside the gates were taking a toll on him, but you were sure he was a good person.

 

You said this to Emily, but she reiterated that Joel was an extremely violent and bad-tempered man who had done terrible things in the outside world. You chuckled and said 'and who hasn't done terrible things out there?'. Emily sighed and the conversation ended there

 

Holidays in Jackson were celebrated without fail, especially the most famous ones, like Christmas and New Year, but Maria began to innovate and encourage other things, like spring food festivals, Mother's Day, and Valentine's Day. It seemed strange to celebrate Valentine's Day at the end of the world, but the young people in the community seemed to get excited, you included, so hearts and pink things were hung on the doors of the houses and some lights were painted pink too, in the community bar.

 

Oh, one thing that wasn't mentioned: your house was almost opposite Joel's house. A coincidence. You took advantage of the Valentine's Day arrangements and picked up some decorations to hang in your house, a medium pink paper heart was glued, and next to it two small red hearts. You pulled away and smiled widely as you looked at the minimal decorations that gave some life to the almost colorless landscape.

 

You heard heavy footsteps trampling the snow and turned to see the man himself, shotgun slung over his shoulders, backpack on his back and a tired expression on his face. Joel looked directly at your door, then looked at you and shook his head and turned to enter his own without saying anything.

You let out an excited squeal along with other women whenever someone confessed to their loved one or handed over a hastily made card. The number of these events had been increasing since the community was dressed up for the holiday. You couldn't wait to do the same, you had already planned everything, you had handmade a card for Joel, it wasn't pink or red, he didn't seem to like those things very much. It was a nice card that could be used to decorate his room, or something like that, if he didn't actually have a room.

 

You wouldn't do that in front of everyone, you knew Joel was an older and reserved man, he didn't seem to like attention. You didn't know his schedule, you only saw him occasionally passing home at dusk, so that's what you did: you sat on your sofa below the window and waited until Joel passed by. As soon as he appeared in your field of vision with the same thick beige jacket, the same shotgun slung over his shoulder, the same worn brown backpack and the same heavy boots you stood up and took a deep breath. She watched until he entered the house and closed the door, then took the card from the coffee table and put on his coat, opened the door and took the few steps it took until he arrived at Joel's house.

 

The card you had prepared was made of yellow paper, folded in half, it had a bee drawn with your best artistic gifts and right below it there was the phrase 'Bee mine?' in large black letters. You let out a giggle through your nose and walked up the few steps to Joel's house, knocked on the door softly and waited.

 

You didn't notice, but the window curtain moved to open a tiny crack, where Joel peeked out. A few seconds later the door opened and you caught your breath. There he was, he looked tired and you felt bad for going to talk to him at this time. Shaking your head slightly, you were about to start speaking, but before you could open your mouth, Joel spoke:

 

"May I help you?" the hoarse voice spoke.

 

"Oh, good night." you said shyly after a few minutes. "I... I wanted to, uhm–"

 

"Listen, young lady, I don't mean to be rude, but I just got here and I'm tired." he continued.

 

You swallowed hard and took the card from behind your back, holding it towards him.

 

"I-I was hoping to talk, but you're tired, so... here it is, I made it for you." you waved the card but he didn't move to take it. "It's for Valentine's Day."

 

Your stomach was churning, his expression didn't look very good, he looked very seriously at you, then looked at the card.

 

"You can take it, it’s for you–” you tried to extend the card to him again.

 

"I'm sorry, but, did you really think this was a good idea, girl?" the tone of voice was rude now. "Coming over to my house like that and handing me a piece of paper?"

 

"I– uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." you swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wanted to give the card I made."

 

"And why do you want to give me this bullshit so much?"

 

You had your face lowered but you looked up, slightly wide-eyed at his aggressive sentence, consumed by a wave of angry courage you blurted out:

 

"I really like you."

 

"What?" he said mockingly after a few seconds. "Do you really like me?"

 

"Yes." you answered bravely, still feeling the lump in your throat. "I– I really like you, I mean… I mean I'm in love with you."

 

Joel stared at your face for a few seconds, as if studying you, then let out a light nasal laugh and said:

 

"I'm old enough to be your father, girl. Go home and don't bother me again, you seem like the pushy type."

 

"Listen, please, I've loved you for a long time–"

 

"What are you talking about, stupid girl?" he looked very angry now, his brow was furrowed and his nostrils were flared. "Love? You don't know what you're talking about."

 

"If you give me a chance to–"

 

"Go home, I told you." he said. "There's no chance of that, or anything else, I don't want anything to do with someone like you, understand? Don't bother me anymore."

 

Then he went back inside and slammed the door in your face.

You knew very early and came home very late to avoid laying eyes on Joel. Maybe she shouldn't have ignored the warnings about him after all, but he was still present in your heart. You shoved the card deep into your dresser, you were embarrassed to look at it now.

 

Ironically, now that you wanted to be more busy you had less work, winter had arrived and the ground was frozen, so the garden was at a standstill. So you dedicated yourself to the horses and cleaning the mess hall, returning home at almost the same time as always.

 

You hadn't told Emily what you were going to do and you hadn't told her about the rejection either, she was going to throw it in your face that she had warned you. You felt so stupid now, how could you have thought you had a chance? So much self-esteem.

 

The days passed quickly and you were thankful for that, but it wasn't like you forgot what happened. Your first interaction with Joel since the incident was when you were cleaning the cafeteria to close, it was already dark and it was practically empty. Mopping the floor repeatedly and sighing every now and then, you didn't see him walk through the large doors.

 

"Are you guys finishing early?" the thick Texan accent spoke from behind you and you froze momentarily, then turned to him with an effort of blank expression.

 

"This week, yes, we are down one person." you replied and went back to mopping the floor.

 

"Okay, thanks." he seemed to hesitate for a moment before walking outside again, and you let out a sharp breath.

The universe seemed to make fun of you and a few days later you had your next interaction with Joel.

 

Someone covered you in cleaning the cafeteria, so you used the free time to try to fix the rotten steps on your porch. As you repeatedly hammered the nails into place, you felt a poke on your shoulder and stopped your movements, feeling your stomach turn in knots when you saw Joel behind you.

 

"Can I help you?" you asked, standing up and brushing the snow and dirt off your knees.

 

"Do you realize it's already night? I need to go out on patrol tomorrow and you're making too much noise." he said rudely.

 

"Right. I'm sorry." You turned around and started picking up the tools you used, holding them against your chest and seeing the best way to climb without falling.

 

You had only fixed one of the steps, the one closest to the ground, so you climbed up on it and stretched your leg to try to climb over the others, but the new step wasn't securely fastened and you slipped, letting out a pathetic little scream.

 

You heard footsteps approaching and his arms lifting you off the ground quickly.

 

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Joel's deep voice asked and you glanced at him sideways.

 

"I'm fine, thank you." you replied and saw him come closer to rest his hand on the small of your back. "Don't touch me." you exclaimed.

 

"I just wanted to see if you were hurt." he took a few steps back, looking embarrassed.

 

"I am well, thank you." you responded quickly and walked away from him, picking up the materials you used earlier again.

 

You balanced yourself and took a little jump to the porch, entered and closed the door.