#because I sure as fuck don’t know how to do it

[hauntedfawnn]

۶♡ৎ Ex!Boyfriend!Rafe Eating Your Ass ۶♡ৎ

Cheating (not on reader), ass eating, fingering, choking, hair pulling, daddy kink, spit kink, anal, possessiveness, Rafe and reader are low key toxic for each other 18+MDNI!

(I read this fic by @novashelby and it had me really thinkin bout ass eating so shout out to her for thaaaat)

“I knew you fuckin’ missed me, baby.” You can hear the smirk on Rafe’s voice even if you can’t see it. He has you face down on his expensive sheets with his large hand pressing the side of your head into the mattress. “You might not want to admit it, but how wet your pussy is for me, says it all.”

Rafe chuckles as he kneels behind you, running his fingers through your dripping folds. You hate that he’s right, you always end up bent over for him no matter how many times you tell yourself it’s the last time. He always pulls you back.

“You know you can’t stay away from me. You always come runnin’ back for more.” Rafe dips the tips of his fingers into your dripping cunt before running his wet fingers on your clit. He teases your pussy with his thumb, letting you get lost in the pleasure long enough to pull it away from you and land a harsh smack on your clit. It makes you squeal and try to close your legs on instinct but Rafe keeps them open with his knee. “It’s cause you know that lil boyfriend of yours will never fuck you like I do.”

“You don’t know anything about him-“ Rafe lands another harsh smack on your pussy and laughs at the way you squirm and squeal.

“Yeah? I know if he was keeping you satisfied you wouldn’t be bent over like a fuckin’ whore for me.” He smacks your pussy again, this time following it with a spank so hard on your ass you’re sure it left an immediate handprint. “Plus you’re drippin’ f’me.”

Rafe runs the tips of his fingers along your pussy, wetting them with your juices. He traces your lips and your clit before sliding his hand up to your asshole and circling it with his pointer finger. “Bet you don’t let him play with your ass, do you, baby? This hole is just for daddy, right?”

“Raaafe, Shut up.” You whine into the mattress, embarrassed by the truth in his words. You told your new boyfriend you weren’t into anal when the truth was you just weren’t into it with anyone that wasn’t Rafe. There’s a lot of things you only trust him to do and that’s why you can’t give him up. He’s so fucking toxic but he fucks you like he loves you and hates you all in the same vein and it’s like you’re addicted to him. Rafe spanks you with his free hand, pulling a little yelp from you that makes his cock jump.

“Drop the fuckin’ attitude, doll. That shit might fly with your gamer bitch boy boyfriend, but that’s not how we do things around here.” He spanks you again before thrusting two fingers knuckle deep inside you. He curls them just right, he always knew how to work you like you were his favorite toy. He presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. Rafe grabs the globe of your ass with his other hand, pulling you open for him. He leans down and lets a line of spit drip from his mouth directly onto your asshole. “Miss this sexy little ass, you gonna let me eat it from the back, for old times sake?”

“You’re lucky to even have me in your bed-“ Rafe pulls his fingers from inside you to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you up against his chest.

“Nah, that’s not how we’re gonna play it, princess.” Rafe grits into your ear. “We both know you want it, so just admit it. Say ‘yes daddy I want you to eat my ass and treat me like the whore I am.’ Say it or I won’t fuckin’ touch you.”

“Fuck, please?” Rafe’s hand tightens on your throat as he leans down to sink his teeth into your shoulder. The pain sends a jolt straight to your already throbbing pussy.

“That’s not what I said, is it? Beg slut, beg me to eat your pathetic little asshole.” You can feel Rafe’s sinister smirk against your skin and you hate that you’re going to do exactly what he says because you aren’t leaving here without it.

“Please eat my ass daddy? Please? I’ll be so good, I’m sorry for having a bad attitude.” You pout your lips and look over your shoulder at him and god if you didn’t want him to touch you so bad you would probably punch that smug look right off his beautiful face.

“That’s my girl.” Rafe snickers before pushing your head back into the mattress. He grips onto your asscheeks, pulling them apart and spitting onto your hole again. The warm liquid drips down your pussy and onto your clit, sending a shiver down your spine. He rubs his thumb in little circles around your hole, pushing it in every so slightly and then he leans down and licks from your clit all the way to your asshole. “Missed this ass so bad, you gotta stop depriving me, baby.”

Rafe mumbles into your pussy as he runs his tongue back down your clit before laying it flat and running it across your asshole. He licks you greedily, sliding his tongue between your cheeks and teasing your pussy. He circles your ass with his tongue and then pokes it inside you, flicking it in your tight walls.

“Oh fuck.” You moan into the sheets as Rafe fucks your ass with his tongue. He switches between circles and flicks of it inside of you, making you drip with his spit as your pussy clenches around nothing. And almost as if he can read your mind Rafe slides his fingers into your dripping cunt, thrusting them in and out of you at a brutal pace. His thumb finds your clit and it makes your eyes roll back. “God I’m gonna come already, daddy.”

“Mmm, there’s my obedient little slut. Come for me.” Rafe groans into your ass before shoving his tongue as far deep inside of it as it can go. One of his big hands spreads you open while the other finger fucks you, bullying your sweet spot. His thumb finds your clit and that’s all it takes to have you clawing the sheets and clenching around his fingers.

“Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, oh it’s so good, daddy.” You grind your ass back against him as your orgasm wracks your entire system. Rafe fucks you through it before pulling back and admiring the view.

“Would ya look at that.” Rafe grips onto your ass and pulls it apart so he can watch your cum drip down your thighs, his spit dripping down your crack and mixing with it. His finger circles your asshole before dipping inside to the second knuckle. “You gonna let me fuck your ass, baby? Need to feel you squeezing my fuckin’ dick.”

“Yeah fuck, yes.” You’re so far gone you aren’t even ashamed of how quickly you agree. Rafe rubs his hand on your pussy, wetting it with your juices before bringing it to his cock and using it as lube. He jerks himself a few times as he spits on your ass again and brings his finger to your hole, shoving it all the way in. “Oh my godddd.”

“Oh fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You really aren’t letting him play with this ass, huh? It’s all mine?” Rafe chuckles as he presses a second finger into you and thrusts them in and out of you slowly, opening you up for him. “S’gonna feel so good, goddamn.”

“Please.” You don’t even care if it hurts, you just want to feel him inside you. “Fuck me.” You wiggle your ass and arch your back even further, practically presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. Something in Rafe snaps in that moment and he brings his cock to your asshole and presses the head inside.

“Oh fuckin’ shit, baby, so tight.” Rafe groans as he brings his hand to your clit and rubs circles on it, the pleasure distracting from the burning stretch of his cock. He spits on you again before pressing halfway in and pulling out again. When he presses back in this time he slams his entire dick into your ass and it nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Oh god.” You whine and writhe beneath him, your body subconsciously trying to run away from the stinging pleasure.

“Where you goin’? Huh? Fuckin’ take it.” Rafe wraps his arm around your middle, locking you in place. His hand on your clit slides up between the dripping folds of your cunt before he presses two of them into you and thrusts them in and out of you time with the pumps of his cock.

“Fuck, I feel so full, daddy.” You’re practically limp beneath him as you drool into the mattress. “Fucking use me.”

“Use you? Oh baby, I’m gonna do more than that.” Rafe pulls his cock out of you to the tip before slamming it back into you and repeating the action. “I’m gonna fill this ass, then I’m gonna send your pathetic little boyfriend a picture of it. Wanna know the best part?”

“Hmm?” You’re so fucked out you that you don’t even fully process his words, blindly agreeing as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

“You’re.” Thrust. “Gonna.” Thrust. “Fuckin’ let me.” Thrust. “Aren’t you, princess?”

“Uh-huh. Oh fuck.” Rafe’s thumb finds your clit just as he pumps deep into your ass, his fingers curl against your sweet spot, and it has euphoria washing over you. “God, I’m coming again.”

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, give daddy your cum.” When your pussy stops spasming around his fingers he pulls them out and uses his opposite hand to yank onto the back of your hair. He pulls your head back and brings his wet fingers to your lips. “Taste yourself.”

He shoves them into your mouth as the hand on your hair yanks hard. You swirl your tongue around his digits with a moan as you lick your juices from his skin. He pulls them from your mouth with a pop before giving your hip a bruising grip and using your hair for leverage as he fucks your ass harder than before. Skin slaps against skin and the groans leaving Rafe are nearly animalistic.

“Gonna fill this slutty little ass with my cum, tell me you want it.” Rafe’s thrusts grow harder and sloppier by the second and you can tell he’s close so you clench around his cock.

“I want your cum, daddy, fill my ass.” Rafe’s dick twitches inside you as the hand in your hair pushes your head back down into the mattress. He leans his large frame over you as he pumps hard and deep into your ass. All it takes to have his cock bursting inside you is another clench of your walls.

“Yeah, that’s it, slut, take my fuckin’ cum.” Rafe pushes your face into the mattress so hard it cuts off your airflow as he fucks himself through his orgasm. His cock fills you with ropes of his cum and when he pulls out, he takes sick satisfaction in the way it drips out. “Don’t move.”

Even if you wanted to, you’re so fucked out that you’re stuck where you are. Panting on Rafe’s sheets with your ass in the air. You hear rustling behind you before the snap and the flash of a camera go off. It takes your hazy mind a second to process what he’s doing but when you do, you shoot up and turn around.

“Hey! Give me my fucking phone, Rafe!” You squeal as you launch yourself toward him but he just holds it over your head as he types. You manage to get your hands on it right as you hear the sound of a message being sent. You look at the screen in horror as you see the text he sent your boyfriend accompanied by the photo of his cum dripping from your ass. “Are you serious!?”

“Yeah. I am.” Rafe tongues his cheek and runs his hands across his chin as he smirks smugly. “I was tired of watching you pretend you liked that loser just to piss me off. Now he knows who really owns your little ass.”

“Ugh, fuck you!” You huff and slap his chest but he just grabs your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Pretty sure you just did, baby. But if you wanna go for a second round…” Rafe licks his lips as his eyes roam your naked body.

“No. I’m leaving.” You try to turn away from him but Rafe grips onto your shoulders, holding you in place.

“Nah. Lay your ass down, I miss that fuckin’ pussy. You’re not going anywhere.” Rafe grips onto your throat and pulls your face inches from his. “You’re mine and you know it. So stop playin’ your little games, I’m over it.”

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You groan as you throw yourself back on his plush pillows. You’re not leaving. And you both know it.

Tagging mooties: @rafescorpsebride @rafesheaven @rafescvntyclubgf @eerielamb @that-sarcastic-writer @moonlightseranade 🤍

Divider by @anitalenia

[imsofreakingtired]

what if you and Sevika had a lesbian situationship divorce and she goes on a shimmer bender crashout

content warnings: blood, violence, self-destructive thoughts, uhmm chaotic angst

like she just doesn’t stop using it. she has a belt full of Shimmer cartridges and uses three at a time whether she’s fighting or just needs a kick, an escape.  

uses it even when she goes to the brothel and just picks any girl who looks remotely like you. she sees you in the sky, hears your voice echo through the streets, feels your hands on her skin when she’s in the gardens, thinks if she closes her eyes she can almost believe the girl she’s with is actually you. calls out your name huskily when she comes. hates herself for it but can’t stop the cycle. and she always fucks on Shimmer, rushing through her veins. making everything dizzy and hot.

she does it even more because she remembers how you always scolded her for using Shimmer, saying it would eventually destroy her. a part of her wants to destroy herself for leaving you. a part of her hopes you’ll save her before she does. 

one night she gets caught up in a street fight and takes on like ten muggers at once. they have knives and masks and want her Shimmer supply, she laughs with the freedom of a woman who has lost all hope. last thing she remembers is thinking, “oh, baby’s not gonna like this.”

you hear a bang on your door in the middle of the night and you jump out of your half-sleep, a knife in your hand. you’re so sure the enforcers finally found you and you know you’re not going down without a fight. you open the door, gripping the blade so tight your palm aches. but there are no enforcers. it’s just Ran, their eyes wide and desperate. they’re propping up a lifeless figure, knees nearly buckling under the weight. Sevika. 

your first thought: Oh Janna. I’ve lost her. 

the knife falls to the floor with a clatter. you open the door wide enough to let Ran in, more dragging Sevika than walking her. you cast a swift look up and down the street to make sure they had no unwanted company following them, then you shut the door firmly and run over to help Ran prop Sevika in a chair. 

“I was gonna take her to Singed,” Ran explains. “but do you know what she said? ‘fuck Singed. i’m not going to Singed.” 

Ran looks at you. “she told me to take her to you, or let her bleed out in the street.” 

you fall to your knees in front of Sevika, and you try to keep your hands from shaking as you inspect her. she’s in bad shape. her mech arm is broken and shimmer leaks out from its wires onto the floor. her shirt is torn and bloody. her face is darkened with bruises and blood, but even in this state you’re confident that whatever she did to the goons that attacked her was ten times worse. 

she stirs awake, half-conscious. grey eyes look up at you in a haze. you wish she hadn’t. you wish she just stayed unconscious. because now that she’s giving you those eyes you can’t even remember why you were angry, you can’t even remember the emotion itself. 

you want to cling to even the memory of being angry at her, just so you don’t fall apart looking at her like this. 

“help me move her to the bed,” you tell Ran, and together you prop Sevika up again and lay her down on your bed. you barely notice the Shimmer staining your clothes, all you can see is the shallow rise and fall of her chest. 

“i can take it from here,” you tell Ran. “thanks.” 

“just…keep her alive.” 

when Ran is gone, you set to work cleaning the wounds. the cuts aren’t as deep as you feared, only one - a gash across her right forearm -  needing stitches. Sevika stirs and groans just as you finish dressing the cuts. she mutters something. you lean in close and hear her whispering your name.

“i gotta tell her…” Sevika trails off. “i gotta tell her i’m sorry.” 

something fails in your heart when you hear this. you smooth her hair out of her eyes and kiss her forehead. 

“i’m right here, you idiot.” 

Sevika’s eyes open and rest on your face. and you’re thinking fuck, fuck. whatever she did or said to hurt you didn’t come close to the sharp pain of seeing her expression relax, her eyes soften with relief. you take her face in your hands, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. 

“i’m sorry, too.”

[reignpage]

how do you think jjk men are with embarrassing moments during sex? like if something embarrassing that happens to either them or their partner, do they play it off, try to inject humor, swear off sex to be a monk?

i read a similar post by an author advocating for well, not just more realistic depictions of sex in fics, but to include some of the awkwardness present in them too?? their post included geto’s hair getting stuck in butt cracks, Toji pulling a muscle, Nanami losing his boner, and Choso full on shitting himself accidentally to help with reader’s embarrassment over queefing 😭😭😭

like yes it’s funny and bonkers but cuz sex isn’t always the passionate sexy fuckfest we see in fics/movies, people don’t always cum at the same time, yes you DO need lube AND prep, foreplay DOES matter, dryness or losing an erection midway no matter how horny you are is common yano?? 😤😤

lowkey wanted to go anon lest you call me perpetually horny 😭 but ignore me if my shit’s getting old

own your shit bae, no pun intended. ur horniness could never get old. I like these questions cause they're like brain teasers. okay okay lemme have a go

Gojo:

says a cringy line

I can totally see him trying something new that he thinks would be super sexy like

"oh yeah? you like that? you're such a dirty whore, aren't you? come on, cum and show me who you're daddy is."

reader will pause and stare at him like, did you hear yourself?

gojo will have a moment of realisation and give himself the ick. even he has limits.

he collapses on top of reader and begs her to forget that, will be a blushing mess.

he'll think about it once in a while and cringe

but in the moment, he'd throw a tantrum if you can't stop laughing and making fun of him.

"it wasn't that bad! you're being mean, seriously. I just got caught up, okay? stop laughinggggg"

gets very pouty, protests, and you have to seduce him back, really compliment the hell out of him

then he'll force you on top and make you take the lead so he doesn't give himself another opportunity to be embarassing

Geto:

trying to switch positions in a tight space and then you accidentally rest your elbow on his long hair and he almost rips outs chunks

probably gets irritated because you've damaged his brilliant hair

takes a breather and then starts back up again

punishes you during sex

will crack a smile if you do

"yeah, alright, laugh it up. but if I develop a bald spot, neither of us will be laughing."

will make sure that never happens again

might even pull your hair during sex to show you how it feels (not too hard obvi)

Choso:

might get too subby lol

like "am I a good boy mommy? am I doing good? I don't want my mommy to be mad at me" and he's in tears

idk how to write mommy kinks lol

and you both have a moment of clarity where it's like, damnnn you okay? didn't know you had trauma like that

he'll get very shy and embarrassed

might even start crying, trying to run away

you'll have to reassure him it's fine and then just go slowly and gently, having more loveydovey sex

late at night, he'll ask you if you really didn't mind because he doesn't want you to be freaked out or think he's not a man

but I imagine it'd become a kink you indulge him once in a while

just gotta teach him it's okay, just don't spring it on someone mid act lol

Toji:

trying a really acrobatic fucking position, whether in the living room or in the shower, gets his footing wrong and slips, smacks his head against the wall, takes you down with him

he knocks himself out

you have to wrangle his 200 pound or something body in to a safe lying position and wait for him to come to

when he does and he remembers what happens

bro is in denial

no he didn't slip

no he didn't overestimate himself

no it didn't hurt

no he's not embarrassed stop asking him

gets very grumpy and will storm off, grumbling under his breath

comes back calmer

neither of you mention it but it hangs in the air as you both prepare dinner together

once sat across each other, you make an eye contact and you burst out laughing

he rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his lips

"yeah yeah, what fucking ever. you try lifting your heavy ass up whilst you're balls deep"

next time tho, he gets you back by forcing you to endure vanilla sex, going very slow and shallow and overly sweet

makes you beg for him to fuck you normally

he'll consider it

Nanami:

drunk sex, becomes wayyyy too emotional

"sweetheart, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire world, I love you so much do you know that? I honestly -hiccup!- c-can't live without you, oh goodness, please don't make me live without you!"

he's still inside, he's not even thrusting anymore, he's just crying into your neck like a baby

you're brushing his hair, shushing him, orgasms forgotten

might vomit on you a little

wakes up with a killer hangover and a night full of memories he wishes he could erase

"oh god, honey. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't believe I did something so ridiculous. no I know loving you openly isn't ridiculous, but I wouldn't be wrong to say crying, leaving you unsatisfied, forcing you to care for a man child, and cherry on top, vomitting on you is just a little ridiculous."

has to go make it up to himself for being a terrible husband

will spoil you for the rest of the week

or anytime he remembers

might actually drink less because of it lol

Sukuna:

he'd kill you if he did something embarrassing

pray he never does

[fragilefawn333]

boarding school ⟡

f!arcane characters x f!reader - girl’s boarding school AU- hall-monitor caitlyn, straight-A student mel, athletic vi, rebel jinx, teacher cassandra x fem!reader (fluff and kissing)

cw; kissing w/o explicit permission, weed, teacher/student. also i wrote this instead of sleeping in the middle of the night so! (3k words)

Caitlyn - Caught  

Smoke spills from plush-lips, curling into cold air. The stall-room’s door is scribbled and graffitied; etched with phone numbers and corny messages. You shuffle on the edge of the lid, allowing bitter tobacco to hit your throat again - exhaling the scent into the girl’s bathroom. You’re halfway through a particularly thrilling daydream when a knock at the door startles you into the world. Stubbing the cigarette on the toilet, you call out to the intruder;

“I’m pissing, leave me alone.”

An extremely annoying, posh and very familiar accent rings off the tiles;

“No you’re not, I can see the smoke. No smoking in the girl’s toilets. Come out.”

You stand up, flushing the toilet for dramatics, and unlock the stall door. Deep-blue eyes, framed by furrowed, pissed off brows, stare back at you.

“Hello, Kitty-Cait,”

She frowns at the nickname, and you shoot a sickly-sweet glance at her, sing-song voice. Before shoving past her and turning on the tap (again, dramatics - got to sell it.) She glares at you through the mirror, towering behind you as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“That’s two misdemeanours, you know; one for smoking and two for missing class.” She clicks her tongue, face shifting into a half-smile, “And I’m pretty sure that makes your third offence of the week. Which adds up to an hours detention.”

“I told you. I was using the bathroom. Is that a crime?” You shut off the tap, turning to face her.

“Ok, where’s your toilet pass?” She persists. God, she’s so annoying. With her dark, shiny hair always in that tight-ass ponytail and her pink, glossed lips. For a minute, you catch yourself wondering how soft they are — but you shake that thought out of your head. She’s annoying, that’s it.

You rolls your eyes, and press your own lips together. “Fine. Write me up.”

“I could,” Something shifts in her tone, and she smirks — flashing gap-toothed smile, “Or, you could do me a favour. And I might - forget - about it.”

“Favour?” You scoff, “Like what?”

“Kiss me.” She says, and your eyes widen. What?!

You stutter, trying to find the right words to say — yet they all get caught in your throat. Finally, you swallow your surprise, “Fine.” And she smiles.

She saunters towards you, until you’re caught between her and the wall between the sinks. Glancing down between her impossible long, dark and perfect lashes - lips parting slightly.

Caitlyn closes the gap, albeit hesitant, and presses her lips against yours. The bitterness aftertaste of tobacco and the sweetness of her strawberry lipgloss intertwines as her tongue finds your mouth. Long fingers find your nape, pulling you closer as warmth engulfs you — contrasting the cold tiles of the walls sticking to the back of your knees.

Eventually, Caitlyn pulls back, lips swollen and panting. She smiles another toothy-dopey smile into your flushed pink cheeks, before pushing back. Straightening her uniform and tightening the ribbon at the back of her head, Caitlyn turns on her heel. You stare after her, wanting to say something — anything. But the kiss has left you half-dazed and your thoughts too much to collect and make sense of.

Caitlyn glances back at you, still pushed against the wall and dizzy.

“Don’t let me catch you again. I might not be as — lenient,” She giggles, licking your taste off her lips and skipping out of the bathroom. Leaving you unable to do anything then gape after her because, goddamn, her lips are soft.

Mel - Copy-cat

Ticking echoes through the room. The old clock nailed to the peeling wallpaper a reminder of the thirty minutes you’ve spent doing fuck-all. Shit, you really wished you had studied longer. Last night feels so long away as you mentally curse your past, sleepy self for making excuses rather than picking up the textbook. You told yourself that this was nothing but a mock-exam — not a real test, but now that you’re sitting in the exam room, it feels real.

You find yourself still making excuses, telling yourself you can’t focus because of the unrelenting clock or the constant coughing in the far end of the room. Even though it’s not true, you can’t put pen to paper because you have no clue what to write. Meaning you are going to fail, again.

A quick glance around the room and you feel even worse, as everyone else seems to be completely fine — especially your desk-neighbour. Typical, straight-A student Mel Medarda is scribbling away, already questions deep into her paper. From your position next to her, you can make out some words. In pure desperation, you find yourself leaning ever-so closer.

You check on the teacher, finding him engrossed in his book, you out of sight at the back of the classroom. Ok, you can do this — just a few answers.

Your eyes flicker to the sheet of paper again, catching a few words and writing them down. Back to the teacher, who is still distracted. And back again to her paper, lingering too long on her long, delicate fingers, tipped with manicured nails. Her wrist is adorned with golden bracelets, travelling down to her knuckles — where equally beautiful, and expensive, rings are. Her arms are bare, allowing your eyes to greedily run over her exposed skin. To where the push of her shoulder blades forces a hollow in the material of her shirt. To her hazel eyes, flecked in gold — staring right at you. Fuck.

She stares at you, eyes wandering from yours to her paper to your paper. Pieces of hair frame her face as she turns it back to you, gold clasps keeping it twisted together glowing against her dark-skin. Honeyed voice spills from plump lips as she whispers;

“What are you doing?”

You just shrug, stupidly. Too entranced by her presence, her eyes on yours, to come up with a reasonable excuse. Shuffling back a bit to your seat, making it look like you’re not obviously copying off her work. Mel gapes, opening her mouth again and huffing at your lack of response.

“Are you copying me?”

Now that prompts a response. You almost jump out of your skin at her words. Failing class is one thing, but pissing off one of the richest pupils in the school will have your head on a spike. You filter through your mind; searching for something to absolve you of your crime. You falter, and your body acts on its own, lunging forwards until your lips meet hers — this will keep her quiet, surely.

She tastes like mint, her lips tender as she lets out a muffled squeak. For some reason, she doesn’t fight nor pull away. Instead, her lips turn upward and when you pull away, she’s smiling? You exhale shakily;

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

Mel laughs, in a way that is so angelic you forget to breathe for a second, before slamming her hand over her mouth in an attempt to silence herself. She murmurs, voice low;

“I was going to ask if you needed some help.” She flashes white teeth, nibbling on the end of her pen, “I tutor, and you’re cute, so I wouldn’t mind.”

You turn crimson, nodding fervently — still embarrassed you kissed her in the middle of class. She chuckles again, quietly this time and tells you to meet her after class. The taste of mint still lingers at your lips.

Vi - Locker-room

The faint smell of sweat and Victoria Secret perfume resides in the locker-room. You sit on the edge of the bench pushed to a corner, nursing a large scrape on your knee. Diving to catch the ball was a stupid idea, especially considering you did it to impress a girl who barely looked your way.

You take the wet paper-towel and try to clean up remaining blood, stuck to skin and wound. The pain comes in sharp waves radiating from the scraped knee, and you are so absorbed in fighting the urge to cry you barely notice the door swinging open. Strong scent of spicy aftershave spills into the room, burning at already tear-struck eyes. The plastic bench dips slightly at the weight shuffling next to you. You peel your gaze away from stained towel and to your right, only to be met with grey-eyes. A hiccup escapes your lips, and you tense as a calloused finger wipes away wet cheeks.

“Vi?”

Vi grins, a hum of confirmation. She grabs a small piece of hair cascading down your face and moves it behind your ear.

“I came to see if you were okay. That looked nasty.”

She cocks her head towards your injured knee, red hair brushing over her shoulder. Before you can register her movement, she reaches out and takes the soaked paper from between your fingers. Vi wrings it out slightly, moving to place it back to your knee — inspecting the cut. She lets out a puff of air and furrows her brows. She’s so close to you, that you can feel the heat radiating off her body — it lulls you into a comforting daze. A sudden pang of embarrassment radiates in your chest, becoming increasingly aware of your disheveled appearance and tear-stained face. Reluctantly, you pull away from Vi’s soothing presence.

Vi notices the shift in your attitude, raising an eyebrow and meeting your face. “Everything ok?”

You nod, rubbing the last of your sobs away with the back of your sleeve. “Just… hurts a bit, that’s all.”

“Hm.” Vi chews at her bottom lip, pink-tongue darting out to wet parted mouth. “This might seem silly, but it used to help my sister,” she leans towards you — an unspoken ask for permission. You nod.

She bows her head to meet your knee, now clean from grime and dried-blood. Pressing chapped lips against the gash. It stings a bit, and you jerk back subconsciously. Yet, the warmth of Vi’s lips and the tenderness of which she kissed your injury makes up for the small pain. She smiles up to you, eyes kind and touch soft. “Still hurt?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, pondering her question. It hurts less after being cleaned, but the feeling of her lips on your skin lingers — and you want more. You nod your head. “Maybe again?”

Vi laughs at that, leaning back down to kiss the graze again. However, the break of contact is only momentary as her mouth meets your leg again, only this time slightly higher up. Your breath hitches as her fingertips follow the path of her mouth, up to rest on your cheek.

“Still hurt?” She asks again, only this time you shake your head. Looking into powder-blue eyes, you lean into her palm rubbing circles into your skin. There’s only inches of space between you, making your heart thrum as you run your tongue against blunt teeth. It takes a second, but eventually she closes the gap — capturing your lips with hers. The kiss is rough, less soft than the one to your knee. Vi pushes you against the wall of the locker-room, and you palm at her shoulders, her biceps sculpted under your hand. You pull away to breathe, inhaling deeply — the scents of the locker room filling your lungs.

The door bursts open again, and the rest of the class rushes through, ready to change and get on with the day.

Jinx - Rule-breaker

You shift in your bed, turning to face Jinx’s side of the dorm. Moonlight bleeds through open window, shining into the room and creating patterns on wooden floor. You slip out from underneath the sheets, socks padding on planks as you move to the open window.

Perched on the windowsill, Jinx rests back against the wall. Joint wrapped gently around lips, you watch as she breathes slowly, stomach growing taunt with each breath.

“Is that… weed?”

You hesitate, fingers reaching out to hold the support of the window. Jinx giggles, taking another inhale and holding the smoke in her lungs. You swallow, stomach fluttering at way she sits so relaxed. Her abdomen bare as her shirt folds above her ribs.

“That’s against the rules. If you get caught — you could get kicked out,”

Jinx rolls her eyes, slumping back to the wall. “You’re so whiny, loosen up a bit.”

She pats the sill next to her, beckoning you to sit next to her. You shuffle opposite to her, leaning back and watching as her nimble fingers take the blunt from her own mouth and holds it in-front of yours. She raises an eyebrow questioningly, cocking her head — daring you.

You turn your head to stare at the flickering lights of the other dorms. And Jinx huffs, pulling the blunt away and to her own lips. You exhale sharply at the sight of her cheeks hallowing, her mouth puckering around the edge of the rolled paper.

“You’re such a goody-two-shoes.”

She sticks her tongue out mockingly, waving the blunt around. Mischievous round-eyes meet yours, and you flush — turning back again to the light dotted around the building, like man-made constellations twinkling against darkness. You feel her feet prod at your legs curled up to your chest. Her nails are chipped blues-and-pinks, another rule-broken.

She finishes the joint, flicking the butt out of the window. Blue-braids cascade down thin shoulders as she leans forward. She takes a painted nail and drags it down your sternum, feeling the way your heart thrums against the skin. “What am I going to do with you?” She whispers into rosy-cheeks.

Jinx is the definition of insolent. A risk-taker, adrenaline-junky. Doing things for the sake of it and not really caring for consequence. She raises slender fingers to your face, dragging it down lips, watching as they part at the feeling of her caresses.

“I would ask if I could kiss you, but it’s against the rules. And I know how you love to follow orders.”

You swallow your anxiety, the intimate tension creating a lump at the back of your throat. You glance down to her lips, swollen with bites and small cracks. They’re cherry-red, flushed with blood as she drags her tongue along the bottom.

“Do it.”

Jinx smiles, brushing her nose against yours. She presses herself to you, and you can taste the faint-weed on her tongue. She kisses like she’s hungry, always been hungry and it feels amazing when you let her have you. You take your hands and hold her cheeks, running your thumb in soothing circles. Your noses brush together again as she moves her head.

Teeth scrape against rough skin, and a raspy chuckle vibrates through your mouth as Jinx laughs. You pull back, staring into ocean-blue eyes — watching as they glimmer under the shine of the industrial galaxy.

Cassandra K - Teacher's pet

You place another textbook onto the pile, shuffling them onto the middle-shelf at the back of the classroom. As you continue collecting the remaining books from the desks, the light shifts as the noon continues. Fragmenting onto the floor, creating patterns at your feet filtering an orange-pink glow through the half-shut blinds.

You decided to stay behind after class, being the one elected (and volunteering) to help your teacher clean up. Ms. Cassandra Kiramman sits at her large, oak desk — pen scratching onto paper as she writes or marks something. Occasionally she looks up, watching as you glide around the classroom, throwing away abandoned paper or cluttered books. The sun catching your face, illuminating features in a soft, dewy haze. You look angelic like this, she thinks.

You’re a good help, a benefit to the class. Always willing to do whatever it takes to secure a good reputation, educated mind. There’s also the added benefit of your teacher being insanely attractive.

You peek over the stack of equipment, pretending you are preoccupied with ‘helping,’ and find that Mrs. Kiramman’s eyes are locked on you. Deep, blue drags over your figure, greedily taking in your form.

She sits, perfectly poised, with contempt superiority. Blazer tight around her arms, and her chest. The navy cotton suits her, frames cerulean eyes and soft, pale skin. It’s a shame that it’s your last year at this school, you’re definitely going to miss this. Her stare, flickering towards you in the middle of a lesson, and the way she calls your name — sweetly spilling from thin, neatly coloured lips.

You put the class-equipment away, smiling at her in a slightly flirtatious manner. “All done?” She chides from the front of the classroom, resting her head on her fist and watching you through half-lidded eyes. You nod, sheepishly making your way to her desk.

“You’re a good girl. Thank you.”

The compliment makes you blush, fidgeting with the ends of your hair. Ms. Kiramman sucks in, hollowing her cheeks, as she pensively stares at you. For a minute, the room is quiet — only the hushed wind and chiming notifications from the computer filling the room. Suddenly, she straightens and examines the window to the hallway. She looks as though she expects someone to burst through the door, but the hallway remains bare, no pupils or teachers alike in sight.

Cassandra beckons you over with her index finger; long and neatly trimmed. Pushing herself from her sitting position, she looks down to your blushing face.

“For your hard work,” she says politely, yet her voice shakes ever-so-slightly.

She leans down, pecking you on the corner of your mouth. You stifle a gasp, holding your breath as your eyes dart to meet hers.

“Uh, thank you,” you manage to squeak out between quickened breaths. “…thank you.”

You raise your hand to touch where her lips just were, heart fluttering at just the recall of light sensation. You barely even notice that she’s back behind her desk, pen in hand and brows knitted together as she continues her work. As though nothing happened.

You feel giddy anyways, turning to leave the classroom. Stepping through the parted shadows, a golden-glow kissing at your face.

[shigarosie]

ushiwaka x chubby reader because I need him desperately

“Hi, excuse me? My friend needs to get laid, would you consider-” 

“Oh my god! Stop!” 

Ushijima looks away from the tv across from the bar, where he had been watching a volleyball match. Hinata was playing, and he didn’t have a tv of his own, so it was off to the nearest sports bar he went. 

Beside him were two girls- pretty girls, he thought, though one was definitely more his type than the other. Curvy, plush, soft, sweet looking. She seemed shocked, her mouth agape as she slapped her friend’s shoulder. Embarrassed maybe, considering how her face was flushing. Or was that the alcohol? A drink was in her hand, something fruity. It looked almost empty. He wanted to buy her another one. 

“Ignore her,” you said, glaring at your friend. “I’m so sorry, that was incredibly rude and disrespectful.” 

“He’s hot,” your friend stage-whispers to you. “You should let him take you home.” 

“We’ll leave you alone now,” you tell him, grabbing your friend by the arm and beginning to try and lead her away. 

“You don’t have to,” he tells you. 

Your friend pushes you forward, closer to the very tall, very muscular, very handsome stranger sitting alone at the bar. 

“Aren’t you like. Totally creeped out and uncomfortable?” You ask, your arms wrapping around your torso. 

His eyes drag down your body, then take their time coming back up. He doesn’t shy away from eye contact, and that paired with the very serious look on his face made you squirm a little. 

“No,” he says. “I don’t mind.” 

Your lips purse. He watches the pretty shade of lipstick you have on smudge a little. Cute, he thinks. Very cute. 

“You can ignore her,” you repeat. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I don’t need-” you stop abruptly, considering your words. Maybe it wasn’t entirely untrue, but she doesn’t need to announce it to the first attractive guy she sees on your behalf! 

At your prolonged pause, Ushijima raises an eyebrow. His eyes dart back down to your body before they remeet your gaze. “Are you sure?” 

You gulp. Was he really implying he would take you home? Was he actually repeatedly checking you out? Was he not at all deterred by the bluntness of your friend throwing you at him?

“Y-yes?” 

He smiles a little. “You don’t sound sure.” He flags down the bartender. “Her next drink is on me.” 

“Oh you don’t have to-” 

“I want to,” he says, still with that very serious tone of his. “If you really don’t want to stay here and chat with me, you’re free to leave. But I don’t mind buying a drink for a beautiful woman.” 

You bite your lip. What harm could it do to talk with the handsome stranger for a bit? Maybe… Maybe you did need something to loosen you up a bit. 

“Okay,” you say, your voice smaller than you wanted it to be. You sit beside him, shimmying a little when the skirt of your dress slips up your thigh a bit. He definitely noticed, dark eyes lingering on your hemline before your new drink comes and he hands it to you, his large fingers daintily wrapped around the stem of the glass. He seemed gentle for such a large man. 

“I’m not always gentle,” he says. 

Fuck. You said that out loud. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks and your neck, and you sip your drink to keep yourself from saying anything else stupid. 

“But I can be,” he continues. “If that’s what you’d like.”

You take a deep breath. “You don’t have to chat me up,” you tell him. “Really, my friend-”

“This isn’t about her,” he cuts you off. “Or what she said. This is about you. And how attracted to you I am.” 

Oh, he’s blunt too. 

“So you… really want to take me home?” You ask, looking for him to reconfirm what he already made plenty obvious. 

“If you would allow me such a pleasure,” he says, one of those large, gentle hands falling to your bare knee.

You take a breath. Then a sip. Then you place a hand on his forearm. 

“You don’t… have to be gentle,” you say. 

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches into his pocket, throws some bills onto the bartop, and stands, offering a hand to you to lead you out of the bar. 

You think you hear your friend cheer as you leave together.

[quarterlifekitty]

The Gaz secret baby post was sooo delicious. He totally would go "oh fuck yeah a baby it’s baby time". You've infected my brain with this trope and the doctors are saying it's incurable 🤒 I keep thinking of Nikolai in this trope!

He's not made his attraction to you any secret – you dismiss any reciprocated feelings because it's just not realistic with both of your jobs. The task force finishes a gruelling but successful op with him, and everybody decides to let loose for a night. After a few many rounds of drinks… you inevitably fall into his bed.

Cut to 5 weeks later, you're staring at a positive test and wondering how long you can keep this a secret. You resolve to never let Nik know he's the dad. Someone who loves his job, disappearing for months… you decide it's best for your child to have at least one present parent and maybe you're scared of the rejection.

I’m so ashamed I haven’t done this trope for Nikolai!!! I love the idea of you trying actively to hide it— it’s not just a one night stand thing, you really know each other and you’re still trying to get away with it.

At first, when he sees the baby— he just assumes it can’t be his, because you would’ve told him, wouldn’t you? Surely you wouldn’t think he didn’t want anything to do with a perfect, chubby baby made from both you and him. So when he’s questioning, it’s about the timelines. He knows there wasn’t anything labeled between you— it was one night, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but the beast inside him still bares its teeth at the idea that you fucked someone right after he fucked you.

Price, for all that Nik is his best mate, promised to be your confidant as your captain, and he wouldn’t betray that. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a messy bitch who will start making a whole load of implications. Some of them are pretty crude, too, because he’s trying to goad Nik into confronting you. Saying things like “You should dick ‘er down again soon, last time it settled her down like you wouldn’t believe.”

It makes Nik more and more sure that there wasn’t anyone else. You were never really the type. Which means the baby must be his, and for some reason, you don’t want him to know.

That makes his blood hot. The idea that you don’t want him to father his own baby. You’ve always been a bit bristly to him, and he’s never known exactly why— he was hoping to find out the morning after you fell into bed together, but you ran out first thing, and he was contracted in a job soon after.

So he hangs over you more than before, watching from a distance, the gears turning as he considers what the fuck to say to get you to fess up. He wants to hear you say it. He doesn’t want to just ask and have you confirm or deny.

It hurts that you don’t want to tell him. That you don’t feel it’s safe for him to know. That you’re trying to protect yourself and the cub from him knowing. And despite the support from your own squad— it can’t have been easy for you.

But he also doesn’t want to miss out on another second of fatherhood. There’s an impatient roiling in his gut about it. Seeing your fat little baby, his fat little baby, and not being able to wordlessly lift it from your arms and hold it close to his chest and kiss its head.

So he’s conflicted, to say the least.

[linklethehistorian]

Being aware is not fearmongering. Acknowledging things exist and encouraging people to fight against it is not fearmongering.

Anyone who sticks their fingers in their ears and shouts “La La La I can’t hear this, it’ll never happen” is part of the problem.

Anyone who tells themselves “there’s no need to worry or do your part in trying to ensure it won’t happen because it’ll take care of itself” is part of the problem.

People who rest so assured that their precious country cannot become something evil or horrible because “surely the good people in this country will stop it” and use this as an excuse to not fight against it and do what we can as a people to ensure that is the case are part of the problem.

No matter how unlikely something seems, repeat it with me, please:

Never assume there are enough people opposing it already that you don’t have to do your part. Never just assume that you are safe and forego action and precaution. Never. Ever. EVER. Assume.

I know so many goddamn people who assumed that we were safe from a Trump presidency — who assumed that we had enough votes, and that also because we had a history we learned from of having him before, this could never happen.

But Trump still won. Whether it was fraud or otherwise, Trump still won. It still happened.

Don’t fight people like me who are trying to spread awareness. I am not the enemy. In-fighting and trying to convince everyone that it’s okay, don’t get worked up and try to fight it, nothing bad could ever possibly happen because by and large the country is full of good people helps no one.

People I trust in my reblogs have already pointed out the things that make this a distraction tactic, but this does mean that it isn’t also worth paying attention to at the same time as the things they’re trying to distract against. It does not make it a non-threat. And I was sourcing the tweet I was showing. This was in the early fucking hours of this being revealed. I couldn’t go and pull up other news articles at the goddamn time.

Now I can.

I will not stop sharing things that spread awareness and encourage people to take their lives into their own hands whenever possible just because people want to stick their heads in the sand and pretend like every other person in history that surely, their beloved country cannot become a dictatorship because “we outnumber them”.

Source

Transcript:

“BREAKING: A constitutional amendment has been filed allowing President Trump to seek a 3rd term in office.

"No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than three times, nor be elected to any additional term after being elected to two consecutive terms, and no person who has held the office of President, or acted as President, for more than two years of a term to which some other person was elected President shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice."

It was filed by Congressman Andy Ogles (R-TN).

Don’t let this slip by unnoticed. This is not just “one extra term”, it’s a warning shot. It’s a red flag. It’s an omen.

They are slowly turning up the heat in the pan. Do not be the frog who sits denying it’s getting hotter.

One extra term will become two, two will become three, and three will eventually give way to lifelong reign of each president.

Fight. Fight for God’s sake.

Contact your local representative of congress. Convince them we do not want this.

We are going to end up in a dictatorship.

@ikiyou

Please help spread this. I don’t usually get political and I don’t usually ask for assistance but this is important and you have more reach.

[aj-norizz]

Let Me Entertain You- Charles Leclerc x reader

Where the teammate girlfriend of Charles Leclerc thinks the new FIA swearing ban is awful. And when Charles crashes she decides to show the FIA how much she cares

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing (duh), Charles crashing

Drop a message to be on the tag list and please follow, like or repost guys ❤️

Back to Masterlist!

“Hey mon amour,” Charles piped up as you drove together, your hand unconsciously stroking Leo’s golden fur.

“Yes darling?” you replied.

“Have you seen the new swearing rule?”

“Of course i have…everybody on social media has been tagging me in it for the irony…”

“Are you going to abide by it?”

“You goody two shoes darling…am i fuck.”

“Point proven i suppose.”

“Ricky where’s Charles?” your name crackled statically through the radio.

“Second right now Y/N, pushing Max for first.”

“How far am i from Max?”

“Around 5 seconds. You’re too far to push for first but you should be able to hold third unless we need you to defend Charles’ second place.”

You sigh.

You were always used as a ploy for the constructors bid and Charles’ championship challenge.

Despite the fact the man was the love of your life you couldn’t help but know that even you had better chances of winning the championship this season then your boyfriend.

“All heard Ricky…”

You kept battling lap after lap.

You weren’t sure why Ricky had said you couldn’t push for first, there was still around 30 laps to go. You knew deep down inside though.

Ferrari and good team strategies didn’t mix well.

As you were racing past the main straight you noticed something glistening.

“Ricky…there’s some debris on the main straight…they need to stop the race before somebody runs it over.”

“Noted. We’ll see what we can do.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself on the main straight, staring at the front mirror.

“Ricky! For fucks sake when is the debris being moved? It’s a fucking front mirror as soon as that’s run over it destroys tires!”

There was no response for two minutes.

“Y/N the FIA have given you a penalty for foul and abusive language.”

What the fuck.

You switched your radio off with no intention to turn it on until the end of the race.

That was until you heard of a problem coming through from Ricky.

“What’s going on?!”

“Leclerc’s ran over the debris.”

“Charles…fuck’s sake…”

And then Ricky went deadly silent. Never a good sign.

“Ricky?”

“Y/N you can’t freak out.”

Your heart dropped.

You’d only ever been told that when you had found out Toro Rosso were dropping you.

And fine you had met Charles and become happier than you ever were with Horner but still, those words were never good.

Especially because they were so condescending.

“What is it?”

“Yellow flags, slow down.”

You instinctively slowed down as you passed by the area seeing a car fully in the barriers.

A red car.

“What the fuck! Ricky is that Charles?”

“Y/N-“

“Is it Charles?!”

“Yes…”

“Why are they not stopping the fucking race?!”

“Don’t do anything irrational.”

That was her last straw.

“Red flag! Red flag! Leclerc’s car is on fire!”

AJ parked up- not caring where she was. She saw the RedBull of Max Verstappen do the same ahead of her and the McLaren of Lando Norris behind her slowly grind to a halt.

The flames were blinding.

The 19 drivers all stood together on the grass, Lewis listening to coverage to try and hear the latest.

“From what we can hear the flames are tame and are only in the back of Leclerc’s car…but here’s the question. Where are the marshals and where are the FIA?”

You stood in silence.

“Max you know where the FIA office is the best…i need to pay a visit after the race.”

“Are you sure?-“

“Franco you’re so innocent man…” Max laughed. “AJ is more or less the reason the fucking stupid swearing ban got put in.”

“Oh shit!” Carlos yelled.

The fire had spread- engulfing the whole car.

No.

No.

Your first instinct was to lunge.

To rush to Charles’ car.

But Max’s grip was too hard to escape.

“Maxie! Max! Let me go! Let me go!” you screamed- a mixture of agony and annoyance coating your voice.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

And that’s when the FIA finally arrived.

Charles was pulled out of the car and that’s when Max let you go.

“Charles! Charlie!” you called out, hoping for some sort of response.

Silence.

You tried to follow the medial car but an FIA superior stopped her.

The fucking audacity.

You couldn’t wait for that media pen

You were waiting in the media pen when the first interviewer walked over with a slight smile.

“Miss Y/L/N. How do you feel about your penalty for swearing and the new introduction of the rule?”

“It’s fucking bullshit. This isn’t fucking Disney Channel- we are grown adults. If they’re so worried about us swearing in life or death situations then maybe they should invest more into the kids channel.”

“I see…and how is the team feeling about Charles’ crash?”

“We’re quite worried…i’m hoping to get all my media buries wrapped up quick enough so that i can go and see him wherever he is…hopefully the team will announce a statement as soon as we know…” you answered, a slight smile appearing on your face as you knew the interviewer had a script to follow but was also being as respectful as an interviewer can get.

“Well i won’t hold you for much longer…but any final message for the FIA?”

“If you think this new little rule will stop me from swearing then you can suck my hairy cock.”

The interviewer choked as you smirked and flaunted off- ready to see your boyfriend.

Charles laughed as you explained to him what had happened in the media pen as he slowly sat up in his hospital bed.

“You are crazy mon amour.”

“Crazy in love.”

“You are so corny.”

“That’s what you love about me,” you quipped with a smile.

“Who am i to deny that?”

“I was so worried Charlie…” you whispered as you softly rested your forehead against his.

“Oh mon amour…”

“I know Charlie…”

“Know?”

“I know you’re scared of the fire…”

You smirked as you walked into paddock, the media eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Over here!”

“A minute please!”

You just skipped past into the Ferrari garage.

Ricky smirked. “What a little performance you put on him?”

“I did do GCSE drama.”

“Grade 9?”

“Grade 8 actually but i was robbed-“

“The FIA are furious.”

“Let them be.”

She noticed the Netflix cameras zooming in on her and Ricky’s conversation especially after Charles wandered over, his arms engulfing your shoulders as he kissed your hair from behind.

“What are you going to do mon amour?”

“I’ll let them complain.”

Ricky laughed- a proper laugh.

“They want a statement.”

“A statement?” Charles echoed in confusion.

“I’ll give them a statement,” AJ laughed. “FIA, let me entertain you.”

“Yes?”

“If you stop my swearing i’ll stop my driving…i’m not 16 anymore…stop treating me like one.”

Charles smiled in pride.

“If they want to treat me like a child i’ll drive like a child.”

“Come on you two!” Fred called out, rushing them to get into the cats for quali.

AJ smiled as Charles wrapped his arm around you.

“Ready to put on a show mon cheri?”

“I’m always ready to entertain.”

[clxja16]

Not Actually Together

Charles Leclerc X Reader

Genre: faking dating au!

Warnings: none atm

Word Count: 1.4K

Author's Note: I have not written a part two for this, so idk when or if a part two will ever come out. other than that enjoy ;) <3 I also feel like this really stupid, please give any feedback

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

“Hey, can I speak to you?” Charles questioned from across the room as he made his way towards you through the motorhome, “privately please.” 

“Of course,” you answered, following after Charles, going to his private suite.  After the two of you entered the room, shutting the door on the rest of the world, “what would you like to talk about?”  You smile sweetly as you ask Charles.  

Charles forgets for a moment what he wanted to ask, you smiled and he forgot how to breathe, let alone speak.  “What do you think of her?” Charles asked, still looking at you but, pushing his phone forward.  Showing you a picture of some girl, “her name is Alexandra.” 

“She’s pretty,” you answered, still smiling so sweetly at Charles, “Did she make a move on you?” 

 Charles looks back at the photo on his phone.  “Yeah she did,” Charles spoke hesitantly, cautiously looking back at you.  Looking for any sign of  ire.  

“Are you asking for my permission to go after her?” You question with a small chuckle, Charles was quite cute when he was nervous.   

“I…” Charles sighed, “I just wanted to know what your thoughts were.”  Charles looks at the picture of Alexandra on his phone in front of him.  She was certainly quite beautiful, she was most definitely his type.  Why does he have such an uneasy feeling though? 

“Charles, this is only for the public.  We’re not actually together, if you wanna go date her, then go, do it.  I’m not holding you to this fake relationship.” You said, with a bit of a laugh, trying to mask the tiny bit of heartbreak you were feeling.  Charles was never yours to begin with, there is no reason to pretend he is. 

“Are you sure?” Charles wanted you to stop him.  He wanted you to hold him to this relationship.  He wanted you to disapprove.  He wanted you to tell him no.  But he knew you wouldn’t do that to him.  You’re only going to do what you think makes him happy.  

“Charles, we’re only in this predicament because you don’t have the best track record when picking girls.  So the team picked me for you, that way your fans will actually like your girlfriend.  This is simply because the team wants it. This isn’t real, go ask Alex out.” You say it so casually, Charles loathes the way you push him towards Alexandra.  He wants you to fight, he wants you to be jealous, he wants you to want him.  

“Thank you…” Charles says looking back at the photo displayed on his phone.  He looks at Alexandra, and he thinks maybe it’s time to move on.  “For your permission, thank you,” Charles says grateful, he pulls you into a hug, kissing you on the temple.  

When you finally pull away from his embrace you say, “just don’t make me look like a fool.”  

Charles chuckles at the request, “what do you mean?” 

“Don’t be flaunting Alex all around,” you say, in a very serious tone.  You look at Charles squarely this time, you want him to understand you completely.   “I don’t mean to be cocky or egotistical, but I play a fucking good girlfriend to you for the public.  So don’t be flaunting Alex all around, making me look like the stupid little naive girl that everyone knows is getting cheated on.” 

Charles nods along, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”  He can’t imagine anyone wanting to cheat if they were with you, “I promise I won’t do that to you.” 

“Thank you,” you say earnestly.  Even if the intimate relationship wasn’t real, the respect and the friendship you and Charles have built, is authentic.  

“Why don’t you go out with someone too?” Charles asks, curious as to why in these past six months of faking a relationship you never brought up anyone.  

“Well there is this guy that I have a thing for,” you say honestly. 

“Why don’t we go on a double date, that way fans won’t get suspicious?” 

“No no,” you laugh at the request, “this guy has no feelings for me whatsoever.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“We talked about it before,” you half-lie, you weren’t exactly fully truthful when you ‘talked about it.’ 

“Well, let’s look for someone, for you,” Charles says, completely serious about the notion.  Maybe if you’re with someone too, it would be easier to let you go. 

“No,” you laugh more, you don’t think you’ve ever heard such a ridiculous idea, “no way.” 

Charles laughs at your dismissiveness of the situation, “what about Pierre?” 

“I’m sure Pierre is very serious about Kika,” you say, with a bit of a chuckle at how serious Charles is acting about finding someone to set you up with.  

“Well I’m gonna find you someone, I can assure you,” Charles declares, almost like it was an official notion.  “I have to go down for a briefing, then I'll be back and we can go out to dinner tonight.” 

“Put on a show for the fans tonight?” you question, watching Charles. 

“Of course, my dear,” Charles says overdramatically with a wink, before walking out.  

After Charles leaves, you feel your smile fall.  You want to laugh at yourself for thinking Charles could have wanted you.  The tears start to brim your eyes and you can’t help but thinking you did this to yourself.  You allowed yourself to be in this predicament, so now you must live with it. Just until the season ends, that’s what you tell yourself.  Six more months, give or take.  

-

“Hey,” Carlos said, trying to get his teammates' attention, “why so…” Carlos makes an over exaggerated frowny face at Charles.  

“I don’t know,” Charles said, still replaying his earlier conversation with you.  He tries to find any sign of anything from you.  He dissects every word you utter, he questions every thought spoken, he searches for any inclination that you might’ve lied. 

“Did you speak to y/n about Alex?” 

“I did,” Charles answers, not expounding on his response.  

“She said no?” 

“No,” Charles says with a certain level of surprise, “She said okay.” 

“Great, that’s what you wanted,” Carlos says, “right?  That is what you wanted?”  Carlos has a feeling that this isn’t what Charles wanted, but it’s really not his place to say. 

“It is,” Charles sighs, “but I don’t know something about y/n being so okay with it, it bothers me.” Charles got up and started to pace, while Carlos decided to take a seat, watching his teammate work through this.  “Did you know there’s someone that she's interested in?”

“Y/n?” Carlos questions just to be sure, “don’t tell me that’s bothering you.” 

“No, it’s not,” Charles says, half trying to convince Carlos, the other half trying to convince himself.  “It’s just, y/n said that he’s not interested in her.  I mean how can someone not be interested in y/n, she's crazy smart.  She’s so kind. Did you know at this past Monaco grand prix, she helped collect gifts from the fans to give to me?  She knows how to cook, and not to mention she’s bloody beautiful.” Charles says with a full grin, as he thinks about you.  He can picture you clearly, he has memorized every little detail of your face, down to the way you scrunch your nose when you don’t want to laugh at his horrible jokes.  

Carlos laughs at his blind teammate, “clearly, you’re not really interested in Alex.” 

Charles sighs again, “I thought if I had brought up Alex to y/n, she would give me some type of sign that she was into me, like i’m into her,” he confesses to Carlos.  “I thought maybe, I could get a reaction or something,” Charles shakes his head at himself, he can hear how stupid he sounds without Carlos pointing it out for him.  

Carlos has never wanted to slap someone, as much as he wants to slap Charles.  Carlos runs his hands across his face, “that is the most singularly stupidest idea I have ever heard, and I have heard our race strategies before.  Why didn’t you just outright ask y/n if she liked you?” 

“I didn’t want to be so obvious about it,” Charles shrugs, “Plus it's better this way, she already said she’s interested in someone else.  Not to mention I have tried for the past six months to turn this into a real relationship, this is just me finally moving on.  I deserve to move on don’t I?” 

“Of course you deserve to move on Charles,” Carlos sighs, “but do you even want to move on, or do you think you have to?” 

Charles doesn’t respond, he doesn’t know how to respond even if he wanted to.

[lipsent]

SHOW ME WHO YOU ARE .ᐟ ── PITFIGHTER VI. been wanting to do something like this for a while now omg. i keep thinking about @shouyuus’s work and i decided to make my own version, because … i have rotted for far too long over this woman and i cannot lose any more sleep.

TAGS . . . 18+ !!! , f.reader , meeting at the bar , drunk vi , but she sobers up as she fucks you , vi yearning for you .

+ @eveningatthemoviesnetwork @thehoneypotserver @pixelcafe-network <33 tysm guys

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI probably spotted you across the bar she always crashes into after her bloodied wins. she’d definitely give you a look and continue to stare even when you catch her, her eyes darkened and her brows furrowed as if she’d met you before and that non-existent encounter held a gory weight.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI pushed past all the people dancing and flailing around just to get to you. some poor guy even tripped and fell on his ass just from her drunken shove alone—and seeing as she too were fighting ghosts to keep from swaying, it couldn’t have been that strong of a push. then again—this is vi, the pitfighter champion.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI somehow had the balls to let loose in front of you while you were trying to dance by yourself. you surprisingly didn’t mind despite how heavy her glances were, and it was almost telepathic how you both communicated wordlessly when you allowed her hands to rest on your waist.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI kisses like she didn’t wreak of cheap liquor, her tongue nearly pinning your own down from how aggressive she was with needing to feel you on her. chest to chest, she supported your back when she continued to push against you like she knew she had this horrible habit of greed, of needing everything from something as sweet as you in three seconds, physical limitations be damned.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cursed herself when she grabbed your hand and led you back to her room, knowing exactly how disgusting and grimy her sweat-filled bed was and had of course decided she’d rather get a slap to the face for even thinking you’d ever lie down on that thing than not try at all. what do you take her for, a madwoman? with a girl like you, she would be if she didn’t take you somewhere when you gave her enthusiastic consent.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI seems like she’s begging to get lockjaw when her tongue swirls anxiously around your clit, every so often flicking upwards in that sweet spot she’d discovered made you squeal and arch your back. how you reached new heights in both your moans and your nerves when she very carefully slipped a finger in, her thumb replacing her tongue when she rose up again and let you taste yourself on her tongue without warning. you grabbed her shoulders as if you want to shove her away, and when she entertains the idea that you could in fact hold a candle to her strength, she just huffed and smiled before going, “you opened your mouth, princess. don’t tell me you didn’t like that.”

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI finally gets to fucking you and holy shit she was waiting so painfully long for you—her first strokes of her clit against your own were rough from the very start, both of you soaking and bubbling from everything that had been happening tonight—except she held out on her own pleasure just so she could see you come undone on her tongue and fingers. She bucks her hips against you roughly and the initial contact is explosive—you both moan in unison, yours higher and shakier as if racing her to something. you fell limp right after that first stroke and she continued to hold your leg up against her, hips bucking at a frenzied pace like she could see your orgasm approaching quickly, stopping at nothing to claw and fight to bring it back down to earth and let it spill all over her.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI has a death grip on your thighs and your waist when you cum, making sure you don’t squirm away now as your clit and hers throb in an unspoken rhythm like they’ve done this before and have made their shapes match perfectly with where contact is made and rubbed and heightened. You’re certain there’ll be bruises where her thumbs dug into her skin, and you can see it on her face the way one corner of her lips turn up just because she managed not to dig her nails into your skin but oh fuck is it going to bruise. she doesn’t even seem to realize, she’s too drunk on your clit to think now.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI cums and you scream because she pushes her clit all the way up yours like she wants to take up all of you in a capacity physically and biologically impossible for either of you—but she pulls your leg and waist towards her anyway, screaming your name when she cums and she pants, letting her grip lax finally as half-mast black-smeared eyes drag up your body from one last lick of the view before she collapses next to you, both of you panting and taking in the liquor and sweat.

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI found the strength in her to somehow get up and pass you her waterbottle. when you tried to sit up, you winced and she snapped her head back to you only to put the waterbottle aside and slide a leg under your knee, her left arm slipping under the curves and lumps of your back and its bones before lifting you like you were wind ready to slip away. “hey woah woah—i’ve got you,” she muttered and you swore stars circled your head at how incredibly gentle she sounded, as if someone else’s sweet, unused and unexercised voice made it into such a hard-trained throat and still managed to stay soft despite everything. her hand’s grip was tight but her arms were so stable you might as well have been lying on a rock or a bumpy wall.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI lent you her jacket when she offered to at least send you off to wherever you needed to be in the morning. you were about to shrug the jacket off when it was time to leave but she chuckled weakly as her hands weigh it down on your shoulders, keeping it there before going, “nah, return it to me when we see each other next time. i’ll be at the bar every night.”

˖ ✶ PITFIGHTER VI lost her mind even more than she already had when you didn’t return for the next three days. her punching bag broke from its chain, stuffing blasting in her face and she had to go through one hell of a hassel to get a new one. but all she thought of was you and so she was ending fights quicker, thinning her voice and reducing it to a coarse hair of a sound from all the screaming. even if she had wiped the spot where both of you came, she flipped her mattress the moment she found the stain.

ᯓ ݁˖ PITFIGHTER VI jacked off to you eventually, needing to forget you quickly but after cumming found that it just might be her end because she can’t forget how sweet you smell, the taste of you somehow still lingering when a week or two have gone by and she’s weakened by the lack of your essence—not just from your clit but from the saccharine flowers that you managed to plant in her head and her chest with the memory of your smile, eyes narrowed like it was making room for such a pretty thing. she can’t breathe when she jacks off to you, remembering how your hips twitched into her at how good her clit felt against hers.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

Girl I have so many questions about your story it’s actually ridiculous!

(I don’t want to overwhelm you though so imma hold back)

is reader becoming a snake person a reference to snakes preying on bats and birds?( and will the snake being joker’s be important?)

Is Tiffany going to have to put effort into pretending she’s the ✨perfect sister✨ now that reader obviously isn’t going to do jack for them anymore? (Because ungrateful families don’t deserve muffins 😒)

Is reader going to be a hero or villain, or maybe something in between?

will we be able to get an idea of why the batfam treats reader like they’re some sort of pest?( you’d think they’d be more careful since reader could easily expose their identities if they thought about it 😒😒)

and finally.

Tim had a very…different…reaction to reader ‘framing’ Tiffany- is that important?

-🚚

yay ok this is my first like real ask! Yall have been making me so so happy with all the love! It really encourages me! And don't worry about overwhelming me! I can take it :) i'm answering this and then signing off to go to bed because I have the worst flu ever.

Ok so yes! Reader becoming a snake-meta-person does have to do with snakes preying on birds, honestly that was a little easter egg for funsies. Im glad you caught it! reader's gonna eat those hoes up !!!!!!! ( and they'll lock her up right after)

Tiffany will for sure try to imitate reader at first but that will eventually lead to her downfall! she can only keep it up for 6 months and then she'll be discovered. she can't imitate the genuine love and care reader puts into these things so they'll always be off no matter how much she tries. the batfam will end up realizing what they lost and do whatever it takes to get it back.

And yes, the snake being the Joker's will be important bc he's the joker and is so fucking insane that even his snake has to be special! all powers have consequences and these will be heavy. it will put reader through it, but will really shape them as a person.

Im leaning more toward reader being a hero??? but with the snake being literally radioactive it might be a kinda venom dynamic. im still not too sure tbh. with all the angst and neglect and the troubles of being a teen, she might be a bit of an anti-hero! she might pull a jason (ironic, i know) and go around killing all the villians!

the thing about the batfam, is that they don't even realize what they're doing to the reader. they literally see her as irrelevant so they don't notice their neglect or how much it affects reader. she's not even on their minds enough to be perceived as a threat. the only ones purposefully being mean are Damian and Jason, Damian because he sees reader as less than/ a threat and Jason because he is trying to push the reader out his life and not 'taint' her innocence.

Tim's reaction is different because he's suspicious. he thinks he would've noticed if reader was capable of doing something so sneaky and underhanded. he's the only one who is suspicious because he simply doesn't think she's smart enough to do this. he's gonna be the first to see Tiff's true colors.

Goodnight yall!!! i'll be back tmrw morning! keep sending more asks! I take requests so if you have any ideas you want me to write just send them in! I'll yandere platonic or romanitc. SEND THEM IN!!!!!!!!

[retroaria]

thinking about mafia!dazai x bosses daughter…

suggestive but no smut soo…18+…..

he probably pays the security guards outside your room to keep quiet about his nightly visits. if not that, then we could apply the fact that dazai created the entire security system for the port mafia, so i imagine the whole unit is loyal to him. either way, he does what he has to do.

you’re like a drug he can’t get enough of. the only thing that soothes the undying hatred he has for Mori is that he gets to fuck his daughter right under his nose.

he steps inside, taking off his coat and shoes before making his way over to you on your bed. you’re in exactly the position he wants you in already. stripped down to nothing but the lacy lingerie he bought for you, hair down and tuckered behind your ears, kneeling on your plush comforter. you’re pouting at him because you’re upset with him, though he can’t help but feel like he’s being teased by that face. he practically melts at the way your ears perk up the second you see him open his mouth to speak.

“Sorry ‘donna, you know I hate to keep you waiting…” his words came out with little regard as he made his way over to the bed, letting his attention fall to the way your hands grip the sheets in front of you and how your eyes look him up and down in anticipation. he sits down on the bed beside you, one hand grabbing your chin to keep your eyes on his, the other pulling your hand gently from the sheets and lifting it up to his lips. he plants a chaste kiss to your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours. “Forgive me?”

“You know I always do…” the words left your mouth in a timid fashion as you felt the heat rising to your face from his touch.

not sure if i should expand on this idea or not. this ship is lowkey something i pulled from an oc au i had made for bsd back in high school lolz. maybe in the future…for now, i leave you with nothing but crumbs.

pink dividerz: @anitalenia - don’t remember where i got the sparkles from :(

[the-court-of-dreams]

ONYX STORM SPOILERS

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Quotes that KILLED ME in Onyx Storm

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1)

To the ones who don’t run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.

Books have always been a safe place for me. I still remember picking up The Hobbit when I was still a kid, closing my bedroom door and going on an adventure. I'm almost 25 now and I still love going on adventures. From magic schools to institutes, hidden cities to castles, forests to enormous capitals. With cars and ships and horses and broomsticks and dragons. Every story, a new adventure. Every book, a new journey. Oh, how I love travelling!

I only ever had one friend who loves reading as much as I do and our conversations about books, the hours we spend making theories, and analysing everything that happened... they are some of my most beloved moments. ( @strovilos , you are the joy of my life) My other friends don't understand as much, it's okay. I' ve always been the kid hiding books under my desk, staying up past my bedtime with a light under the covers. So yeah... that dedication really got me.

I was invited to places, but I almost never felt included while being there. That was okay too.

I always preferred riding dragons anyway.

2)

Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything. He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back.

Wow, that didn't take long at all, huh? Straight in the fucking feels.

3)

I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.

Such a good start for me and my fucking heart. Thanks, Rebecca... I really appreciate it.

4)

If I’m to be court-martialed for helping Braxtyn defend his people, then I shall welcome the trial. All who channel from dragon and gryphon alike should flourish under the wards, and now Aretia will be that haven should one of the others ever return.

Lyra... I fucking stan!

5)

So with all the love in my heart, put your fucking uniform on, because we need you.

Look, I'm not saying that Ridoc is my favourite character in this book... but... Ridoc IS my favourite character in this book.

I died with the whole squad dynamic, but the four of them will always hold a special place in my heart, I fucking love these kids.

6)

Even hundreds of miles away, he’s still taking care of me and doesn’t even know it.

I KNEW this godsdamned book would be full of angst....BUT DID IT HAVE TO BE ALL OF IT??? DID IT REBECCA????

7)

You might be angry when you realize I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. But it’s only because I no longer fully trust my ability to walk away.

—Recovered Correspondence of His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor, to Cadet Violet Sorrengail

FUCK ME MAN....Come on...WHYYYYYYY????

8)

But the thought of you being out there, beyond the wards, facing down a known attack of venin, triggered something in me I’ve never felt before. It was hotter than rage, and sharper than fear, and cut deeper than helplessness, all because I couldn’t get to you.

Fuck you.

9)

I would have killed anything and anyone in that moment to reach you. No exceptions. I would have channeled every ounce of power beneath my feet without hesitation if it would have landed me at your side.

Double fuck you.

10)

If I’d been there, beyond the wards, I would have drained the very earth to its core to keep you safe.

TRIPLE FUCKING FUCK YOU!!!!

11)

Pain isn’t new to me, Jack. She’s an old friend I spend most of my days with, so I don’t mind if she sings to you.

Violet Sorrengail... you are the most badass bitch to ever badass. (I feel like that's SUCH a Remi thing to say. Fucking finally.... iykyk. Shout out to @skyfallscotland for writing fucking masterpieces. Getting notifications from you always makes my day. If any of you are into fanfcition, i STRONGLY recommend reading everything this girl has written. You can start with Fear and Flame. Thank me, and HER, later.)

12)

“We live by the Codex—” I try again.

“I live by you. When have I ever given a fuck about the Codex or the Code of Conduct?” He cradles my face and leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”

I love them so much it hurts.

13)

Love of my life. You have nothing to be jealous of.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

14)

“There’s no magic here.” He tugs me against him. “No power. No lure. No taunting reminder that I can save everyone if I just reach for it and take what’s offered. It’s only…peace.”

For the first time since fetching the luminary, I seriously debate Tecarus’s offer.

When I tell you this book was PAINFUL for me....I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING.

15)

"...Sgaeyl…" He glances up at the trees as if he can see her in the sky above us, a look of longing on his face.

If I had a dollar for everytime this book broke my fucking heart.

16)

“My consort,” Xaden replies casually. “Violet Sorrengail.”

I'm deceased.

17)

I can’t quit watching Xaden’s eyes in case their flecks change back to gold whenever I see him during Signet Sparring.

They never do.

Like my heart will never again NOT be broken for these two.

18)

“The pain. The mess. Give it to me. I’ll hold it. I know that sounds ludicrous, but I’ll find a way.” I lace our fingers. “I will hold everything you don’t want to feel because I love every part of you.”

This ship... this fucking ship...

19)

“Seems Catriona has found someone worth lagging behind for.”

I loathed her in the previous book....but gods did the poor girl go through it in this one....

20)

“There is no cure for me.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s why you have to become better than me. There’s only you.”

I seriously don't know why I'm putting myself through this torture.

21)

When things get…shitty, I hope you can look down at it and imagine us sitting there together when this is all over. That’s the vision I’m going to cling to: you and me, holding hands, looking over the city.

This right here broke whatever soul I thought I had left. It just hurts so much when the characters cling to a future that I fucking know isn't going to happen.

22)

It’s almost like this room is removed from time itself, a tiny corner of the world where we simultaneously live together yet don’t.

Rebecca literally...WHYYYYY????

23)

I didn’t reach for any form of power because even in that state, I knew it could take me back to day zero, and day zero doesn’t give me you. I clawed my way back to myself and left.

Screaming, crying, throwing up.

24)

While most deities allow temple attendants to choose their timeline of service, only two require a lifetime of dedication: Dunne and Loial. For both war and love change souls irrevocably.

For the love of Gods, please let this be some kind of clue.

25)

I love you more than this city. Do not die defending it.

Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.

26)

At some point I’ll stop looking for her, right?

I KNOW Andarna had her reasons... but my girl Violet did not deserve that after everything she's been through.

27)

His smile instantly becomes a core memory.

MY smile instantly becomes a core memory....as in I don't think I'll have one again.

28)

You’re not a weapon of destruction. You’re not venin. You’re the artery power chooses to flow through. You’re life.

I fucking ship this SO MUCH. I love me some enemies to lovers, slow burn, full of angst shit.

29)

When push comes to shove, I'm not the best of us. She is.

YES VIOLET, THAT'S YOUR BESTIE!!!!!!

30)

“That’s a little menacing,” I admit to Feirge. “Then let us be menaces,”

I ADORE multiple povs. I've been waiting for Rhi's and Imogen's pov for 3 books, and I was NOT disappointed. Wish I could have more of them though.

31)

She’ll rip the very sky apart before she and Glane accept defeat.

GO IMOGEN! GO! GO! GO!

32)

The flame of perpetual rage that lives in my chest burns hotter. Fuck that horde. Fuck the venin who ride them. Fuck that unholy vortex of a tornado at the end of the northern field, and fuck the orders to stay grounded in these winds.

FUCK! I love this girl so damn much.

33)

I’m glad it’s you with me. Parapet to Malek’s own doorstep. I’m so sorry I have to go first this time.

To be honest, I didn't really care about Quinn for three books now... but I SOBBED in these 3 pages.

34)

And you should tell him, Gen. Tell him, and you find some happy.

And the fact that she preached for my second favourite ship of the series with her dying breath??? Miss Quinn, you have my heart. I didn't care for your existence for three books, but man, did you get me in the end.

35)

“We made it a good one.”

This one cut me so fuckign deep I had to stop for a good ten minutes. I did not see it coming. I did not think I'd care. I still don't understand why I did. But I really, really did.

36)

“I’m not leaving you!” He leans in and slides his hand behind my neck. “I’m not leaving you, Imogen,” he repeats, softer this time.

If these two don't end up together, I'm gonna make it everybody's problem. I PROMISE!

37)

“You have been the gift of my life,” I tell Tairn.

I've read some theories that Tairn will die in the end... First of all...HOW DARE YOU? And second of all... REBECCA DON'T YOU DARE, I WILL-

38)

She was the first to choose me, to elevate me above all others, the first to see every ugly side of me and accept it all, and every single person in this fucking canyon will die before they remove a single one of her scales.

The fact that Xaden channeled for Violet but really turned to save Sgaeyl... I did not expect that. And although it was painful as fuck to read through... to me it was perfect and a job really well done.

39)

Shadow brings quiet. My soul departs like pieces of ash from a fire, flaking free and drifting away as power consumes the space it once inhabited. I’m no longer on the ice—I am the ice.

Xaden...baby...no....

40)

Save them, the last remaining pieces of me beg, holding on with teeth and claw to keep from being torn away, too.

I will never... ever... recover from this.

41)

“I love you.” Violet’s voice cracks the cold, and a silken thread of warmth wedges itself in the opening before it seals shut, locking it in place.

No. Wait. I grab for that thread with desperate hands, clawing to keep her as more of my pieces are blown away, lost to the void. She is warmth and light and air and love.

This was so fucking painful to read I literally have no fucking words.

44)

I love her. That is the emotion I cling to, the fire of pure power burning at the feeling’s edges, and I know if I take it any further, it will be the next and final piece to float away.

😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

45)

“What did you do?” My head snaps toward Imogen, and a deep sense of foreboding takes root in my chest. She slowly lifts her gaze to mine.

“What you asked me to.”

How THE FUCK am I supposed to wait who-knows how long for the next damned book???

All in all, I really enjoyed this. I never got bored and I didn't mind the side missions at all.

The xaden×violet of it all shattered my heart. I definitely loved their relationship more than the previous books (It really reminded me of their dynamic from one of the best pieces of literature I've ever had the pleasure to read, a fanfiction piece called Storm in the quiet by @justallihere. She is truly the best.).

I just knew this was coming, and all of their trying would lead to this... it tore my heart apart. I love heavy angst in my books, but it hurts like a motherfucker when you have to wait for the next book in a series. I've promised myself I would never start an unfinished series ever again but oh well....

I loved the side characters so much, and I feel like I got to see them more and get to know them better in this one.

Ridoc is the best comic relief character I've read in a long, long time, and I love him so much (I almost had a heart attack when I thought the cook actually stabbed him.)

Aaric is a little shit and I'm so here for it. His exceptionally well written character was one of the highlights of the book for me.

Imogen and Garrick are my babies and I want them to end up together SO FUCKING BAD.

Also, the Drake and Mira crumbs? Chef's kiss.

I have to admit I was very fed shipping wise.

Unexpectedly, I also laughed my ass off in this book... so I'll probably make another post with all the times I died of laughter. Who would have thought?

My soul will definitely need mending and a good dose of fanfiction to get me through the long wait. To the people who are gifted enough to write these fanfcitions, you are my heroes. Cheers!

Final thought, Xaden Riorson, THE MAN that you are.

Accurate image of me after finishing Onyx Storm:

[kawhh]

dark!jack taking videos of you when you don’t notice. whether under your skirt that he always suggests you wear or when he’s buried inside of you and you’re out of it (bc he may have slipped something to help you sleep), he watches them whenever he can’t be home with you.

maybe one day he puts cameras in to watch you when he’s on roadies, just to take care of you

I will kiss you through the screen. This is a threat. Sorry nonnie, this is long.

He's been so frustrated with having to be separated from you so often even though he loves his job. The fact that he can't see how your eyes roll back as he fucks you? Can't see how you cry? Can't see how well you take him? Can't see how big he is compared to you? The stretch of your cute little pussy as he forces his way in? The curve of your perfect ass under his favourite skirt? Criminal.

You're so innocent, you won't even facetime with him and talk dirty. You get all squirmy and red the minute he says something suggestive. What he'd give for you to be confident enough to at least touch yourself for him so he can see slightly.

It does give him an idea though... Just because you aren't confident enough, doesn't mean he can't make his own content. He finds it adorable, but he's getting manic. He's researching cameras on his roadies - taking advantage of the fact that you can't possibly find out.

He doesn't want some shit, blurry video footage. He wants 4k. He wants to see the cum leak out of you around his dick. He wants to see how soaked your thighs are. He wants to hold you open so he can get footage of how stretched you are from him. He wants footage of how your underwear barely covers your ass under your skirt. Needs to see his release paint your throat.

He needs you out of it for this plan to work. You'll ask him what the camera is for, you'll freak out, you'll protest, you'll whine and complain. He can't have that - he needs this footage.

You'd never suspect that he's added something special to your tea - you're so thankful that he's made it for you while you're in bed. You don't even notice the tiredness kicking in. Why would you? You've been stressed from work, it's perfectly natural. You don't see him crawling over you with a manic smirk, reaching for his zipper. You're barely concicious when he lifts your legs over his hips.

He's being so gentle, not wanting your body to fight the drug too hard. Taking his time getting the right angles, forcing your tight little body to slowly stretch around him. He's practically drooling as he eventually loses it. Running his fingers through the leaking cum, stuffing it back into you to get more footage of how it seeps through the small gap between his dick and your walls.

He gets addicted to watching the footage of you on his trips. He just needs more. More of everything. More of you existing. Putting makeup on? He wants to see it. Sleeping? He wants to check. Touching yourself? He needs to watch. He's got the money to install a whole camera setup in the apartment and he's sure as fuck gonna do it. You'll never have to know..

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ Sevika/Abby/Ellie: Love letters ✞⛧

Warnings: fluff

𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕜𝕒

Hey Brat,

I don’t know what you want me to say in this. You should know by now that I’m not one for long speeches or anything sappy. But since you’re still here, I guess I’ll give you something to chew on.

You’re mine. That’s the only thing you need to remember. No one else matters. No one else will even get close to you while I’m around. I don’t care if you think it’s possessive or crazy, but you’re not going anywhere. And don’t even try to argue with me about it. You wouldn’t win.

It’s cute how you think you need to take care of me sometimes. You’re not the only one who knows how to survive, but I’ll admit—your little touches, your care, it’s not the worst thing in the world. But don’t go thinking I need you. You’re not my damn therapist, and I’m not your project. But I’ll let you fuss over me anyway, since you seem to enjoy it. I’d kill anyone who made you feel less than adored, so don’t get any bright ideas about being too independent.

You’ve got a good thing going, so don’t fuck it up. I might not say it outright, but I’d burn this whole damn city down before I let anything happen to you. So yeah, maybe I’m a little soft on you. But don’t get any funny ideas. You’re not gonna change me, and you’ll never hear me say anything cheesy, like those damn love words. That’s not me.

But in the quiet moments, when you’re all tangled up with me, I’m not thinking about anyone else. Just you. Keep that in mind next time you get all worried.

So, there. That’s your “love letter,” for whatever the hell that means to you. Take it or leave it.

-Sevika

•|||——————————————————————|||•

𝔸𝕓𝕓𝕪

Hey,

I’m not great with words. Never have been. So, you’ll have to bear with me.

I’m not some romantic, and I don’t do the whole love-letter thing. But I guess I owe you this, if only because you’re the one thing in this messed-up world that’s made sense. You’re the constant, the one person who’s been there even when I didn’t deserve it. I don’t know if you get that, or if you’ll ever really understand how much that means to me.

I’m not good at talking about feelings—hell, I’m not even sure what they are half the time. But I know this: I trust you. I trust you in a way I haven’t trusted anyone in a long time. And yeah, maybe that’s not saying much, but I’m not exactly the type to let people close. You’ve earned your place, and I’m not just letting anyone in. So, don’t take that lightly.

I won’t sugarcoat it—I’ve made my share of mistakes. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make things right, but I’m trying. I’m fighting for something, for us, and I don’t know where that’ll take me, but I know I’ll keep pushing forward as long as you’re by my side. You’re the reason I keep going when it’s easier to quit. You make it worth it.

I’m not perfect, and I don’t expect you to be either. We’re both broken in our own ways, and that’s okay. I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, I’ll fight for you. You mean more to me than I can say.

So, yeah. Maybe not the flowery words you expected. But that’s the truth, and it’s the best I can do.

<3 Abby

•|||——————————————————————|||•

𝔼𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖

Hey you,

I don’t even know where to start, but I guess that’s pretty typical for me. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what to say, how to say it, and if I even have the guts to send something like this. But here it is, I guess.

I’m not great with words—never really was. I tend to get stuck in my head, and even when I have something I want to say, it comes out… wrong. But I hope you understand that I mean every word, even if it’s clumsy or awkward.

There’s something about you that makes everything feel… right. Even on the days when I’m a mess, when I forget to text back or I zone out for a bit because my head’s too loud—whenever I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe. And I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but I’m grateful for it. I’m grateful for you.

You make me want to be better, even if I don’t always show it in the best ways. I know I can be a little weird and I overthink things like a lot, but the truth is, I’m just trying to make sure I don’t mess things up with you. You mean more to me than I’m probably letting on, and sometimes that freaks me out.

I catch myself looking at you sometimes, like I can’t help it, and I know I probably look like an idiot when I get all flustered, but it’s because you’re… I don’t know. You’re just everything to me. It’s hard to explain, but I think you already know.

When I’m with you, I don’t feel like such a loser anymore. I don’t have to be perfect or say the right things or try to impress anyone. You make me feel like I don’t have to be anything other than just… me. And that’s probably the best gift anyone could give me.

So, yeah. I guess I just wanted to tell you that. You mean the world to me, more than you know. And I’m sorry for all the weirdness, the moments when I get quiet or lost in my thoughts. It’s just… I think about you a lot.

I’ll stop before I get all awkward and ruin this, but I hope you understand.

I love you. And I’m so damn lucky to have you.

Love,

Ellie

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[bullet-prooflove]

Recipe For Disaster: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @alisbackalleybbq @mia1653 @privatetruths

You have a problem.

It comes in the form of a six foot three Army Ranger that you find standing in your kitchen, wearing an apron and following a recipe from one of your mother’s old cookbooks.

“Harry.” You say as you hear Rip’s footsteps on the porch behind you. “What are you doing here?”

“Making dinner.” Your ex-fiancé says as if it’s the most natural thing in the world before leaning over to adjust the temperature setting on your oven. “I thought I’d make you something special for your birthday.”

Your birthday…

That was three months ago.

You understand almost immediately what Harry’s in the midst of one of his episodes. They’ve become more common over the recent years, they often take the form of phone calls because he forgets the two of you aren’t together anymore. It’s part of his condition, a traumatic brain injury he’d received when an IED exploded back in Afghanistan. It fucks with his memory, makes him unpredictable.

Right now he’s reliving your birthday from five years ago, the one where cooked your mother’s humble pie before he got down on one knee and proposed to you in front of the fire.

You feel Rip’s presence behind you, the shift in the air as his gaze comes to land on the stranger in your home, the one with the knife in his hand. It glints wickedly in the light, reminding you of just how quickly this situation can turn if it’s not handled right.

“Rip.” You say as calmly as possible because you know that every single instinct in him is vying to take down the threat. “This is Harry.”

You see the moment it dawns on him, who Harry is. His dark eyebrows furrow into frown because Harry shouldn’t be here, he should be in the VA care facility outside of Bozeman that specialises in looking after veterans with his type of illness.

“You staying for dinner Rip?” Harry asks him, his hand trembling just a little as he continues to dice the carrots into cubes.

“I…Yea.” Rip responds because there’s no way in hell he’s leaving you in the company of a man who once choked you out in the midst of a breakdown.

“Cool.” He says setting the knife down, before he clenches and unclenches his fist. “Man I do not know what’s going on with my hand today.”

You know. It’s another effect of the brain injury, a tremor that comes and goes depending on his stress levels. Escaping from the facility, making the journey here and breaking into your home, it’s all exacerbated his condition and you know what comes along with that, you still have nightmares about it.

“Why don’t I help you out there?” Rip says, stepping into the kitchen, his palm coming to rest upon the knife, pressing it flat onto the counter. “You can start lining the tin with that pastry and I’ll take care of the chopping.”

Your body tenses because you aren’t sure how Harry’s going to react to another man stepping onto his territory. You wonder if his fight or flight response will kick in, the way it usually does. To your immense surprise he concedes by nodding his agreement and  busying himself with the task at hand. The relief you feel in that moment is palpable, Rip must see it in your features as he tilts his head up to meet your gaze.

“Imogen, why don’t you make those calls.” He says gently before tipping his head towards Harry. “I’ve got this.”

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