#because you've got the Big Sads

[starvingtongue]

i miss them. i miss them so much. [ for dona! ]

@braskide

they had never really spoken about it. for all their conversations since Sin's defeat, for all their talk of spheres and the youth league, even with fiends spilling out of the temples and the dark aeons threatening the townsfolk, not a word was said between them about the hole they had left behind.

why would they?

both of them knew the feeling the Aeons had left behind. the hole they left behind in their souls, the very fibre of their beings. their souls once connected with the fayth now left scars across their souls. ones that would never truly heal and every summoner would continue to feel until the day they died.

it was something they never spoke about. any of them. there had been times when she had run into Isaaru. pleasantries had been exchanged, maybe a light hearted joke from his end to ease the awkwardness, he had always had an annoying sense of light-heartedness about him, and they had quickly parted ways. neither of them spoke about the tear the Fayth had left behind. there was an unspoken agreement amongst them. they would not speak of these scars that had ravaged them so deeply that Dona had barely looked towards Kilika temple without feeling a pain deep within her soul.

she wondered if that's why Isaaru went all the way to Zanarkand. while there was a constant reminder of the Final Aeon and what their pilgrimages led up to, there were no temples. there were no clergymen, no priestesses, no members of New Yevon, reminding them that their home housed a Fayth. maybe that's why she'd heard rumours of him turning Zanarkand into a tourist trap, maybe it was his way to try and plaster over the wounds the Fayth left behind. everyone had their coping mechanisms. a way for them not to speak about it.

why would they want speak about it?

some things were too painful to voice. some scars ran too deep that words weren't enough. no amount of words could convey the sheer pain of having the connection to the Fayth one second and then another not. the sheer confusion she had felt, after experiencing pain that had wracked through her body like never before, only to come to moments later to find her connection to the beings she had merged with gone. the first thing she had felt when she realised Yuna had defeated Sin was not happiness, no, it was an overwhelming sense of cold and panic. Dona couldn't put her finger on why, but the very absence of the Aeons had caused her to panic. she had managed to hide it well, feign happiness in the moment, but it had felt like someone had scooped out parts of her soul with a spoon.

she had spent days, no weeks, in an almost depression like haze after Sin's defeat. Barthello had tried to drag her out of their house in Kilika to celebrate with the rest of the village, but she had only managed a couple short hours before retreating back into their hut. sure, there was an ebb of happiness at the fringe of this, a feeling that she should be happy that Sin was gone, she should be relieved that it hadn't been her that had to do what Yuna had done, but she wasn't. she'd be a food to try and convince herself otherwise. in truth, she missed the Aeons. she missed the bond they'd shared, the power that had flowed through her veins when she summoned them. she missed bonding with them like she had never bonded with another human being. they had understood her better than anyone ever would. she had prayed and prayed and prayed at their temples to obtain their power in an effort to defeat Sin and bring peace to Spira for at least a few months. and within the span of a couple hours, with little warning, they had gone. and they had left a deep chasm in her soul that she still didn't think had closed all the way.

no amount of words could convey that to another human, Guado, or Ronso. she could count on one hand the amount of people that understood that feeling and one of them was sitting on the edge of dock in front of her.

without so much as a word or a snarky remark, Dona gently sat herself down next to Yuna. they sat so close that the fabrics of their clothes nearly touched. she could smell the traces of Yuna's shampoo, the perfume she would've put on this morning. in an uncharacteristically kind, almost soft, move on Dona's part, dark brown eyes tracing the rise and fall of the waves coming towards them, Dona put an arm around Yuna's shoulders. she wouldn't admit to anyone, not even Barthello, that her eyes had began to water moments prior. if anyone asked, she would claim it was the strong wind coming off of the ocean that was making them water. she didn't trust her own voice to get any more than the next two words out of her lips. she worried that in doing so, the tears that were building up were going to spill from her eyes.

"Me too."

[churipu]

SAY "DADA" 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. toji cries but he doesn't admit it bye

note. i just spent a good hour watching the "glimpse of us" parents-baby trend, it's so cute. i just had to make something family themed for the jjk men :( i'm so sorry for the lack of updates, i just finished work and boy— it was stressful.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"come on, little guy . . . say dada, da . . . da!" gojo nodded his head slowly, in his grasp stood his one year old son.

all he got in return was a loud strained laugh from the little boy, "it's okay, baby. take it slow, come on, dada . . . da . . ." the blue eyed male softly spells out the word.

"satoru, you've been trying for an hour now." you informed him, eyeing the father-son duo every now and then, "he's going to get it eventually . . ."

gojo chuckled, "i know, baby. 'm just so excited, what if he said his first words when 'm out on a mission," a sad smile etched onto his lips as he cradled the baby in his hold.

"dada!"

it took gojo a few seconds to process what his son just uttered in excitement. slowly, the corner of his lips tugged upwards in happiness — gojo cheers loudly, nuzzling his face into your son's little belly, making him craze out in pure euphoria.

"you just said your first word, good job, buddy! 'm so proud of you," gojo muffled out into the baby's tummy, "daddy's so proud of you."

gojo then faced you, "his first word is dada, i'm going to cry . . ."

to which he did, sniffling loudly — making the little boy imitate him, scrunching his face into a big frown before wailing out a loud cry. hearing your baby cry, gojo softly hushed him, patting his back, "no, no, baby. daddy's crying of happiness, not sadness, please don't cry."

"aren't you two just the cutest?" you asked, kissing the baby on his chubby cheek — calming him down almost immediately. his loud cries ceasing down under your touch.

"we are." gojo chuckled, nose raging red from sniffling mucus.

"please get rid of your snot, satoru . . ."

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"come on, dada. say it." toji mutters, pulling on megumi's little cheek — gently, and the baby seemingly annoyed, swats off his father's giant fingers.

toji scoffed, "huh, wonder where y' got that attitude from."

you eyed him, "what do you mean? megumi's exactly just like you — i carry him for nine months and he ends up being a copy of you," you chuckled, ruffling megumi's hair.

the young ten month old baby crawled his way over to you, settling himself on his lap, eyeing his father sharply, "what're y'looking at, huh?"

instinctively you hit toji's bicep gently, "stop that."

"'m not doing anything . . ." toji replies back, rolling his eyes before crossing his arms, "stupid baby."

"dada!" megumi shrieks out, pointing his small finger accusingly at toji, a cute glare looming over his dark eyes, "dada!"

toji blinked once. twice. thrice, and he ended up scoffing, looking away from both you and megumi, "he said his first word, and it's me," toji mutters into his skin, clamping his palm over his lips as his elbow propped down onto the couch's hand rest.

"good job, 'gumi!" you cheered, raising the boy up in the air, kissing his cheek which made the baby erupt in small laughter.

megumi crunched his legs happily, yelling out gibberish with a mix of "dada dada!"

"that's right, dada!" you parrot happily, gently hopping with megumi in your arms. eyeing toji who had been silent, "toji, are you okay?"

he grunted, brushing his face with his hands, "do i not look okay?"

"did you cry?" you ask.

toji grunted yet again in disdain, "why would i cry because the brat said his first word?" he did.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami sat on the floor cross-legged with his eleven month old daughter on his lap as he scanned the newspaper. at every page, his daughter didn't miss every spot on the dull colored paper, pointing at the paper and muttering out incoherent words.

"mhm, that's terrible news, isn't it?" he replies, sipping on his coffee mug.

you emerged from behind the bedroom door, hair disheveled, "good morning," you mumble out, wiping the back of your finger over your eyes.

"dada!"

you froze and eyed your daughter, and nanami did too. his head looked down onto the young girl in amusement, his gaze softening, "your first word . . ." he whispers, carrying the baby into his strong arms.

"you just said your first word, baby!" your raspy morning voice chirped, it was as if your exhaustion had disappeared in a heap of moments and you trotted down the ground, approaching the father-daughter.

"i'm so proud of you," nanami gently placed a kiss on top of his daughter's head, cradling her small body.

you were pulled into a hug by nanami, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and he pulled you to his side — his cheek leaning on your head in content, "good morning."

"dada dada!" your daughter cheered happily, patting nanami's face with her small hands.

"mhm, i'm dada, baby." he mumbles, letting the young girl do as she likes. you cooed softly at the sight, wrapping an arm around his waist.

a good morning it is.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[chocogoldie]

Love Slip

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contains: established relationship, a bit suggestive at one point

short continuation of Nip Slip 18+

It's been a while since the two of you started dating. Approximately three months, two days and forty-three minutes. But who's keeping count?

During your time together, you've come to learn many things about the blond ticking time bomb:

One, he's a very organized and clean guy. He has to-do lists separated into categories in his phones' notepad app, a strict schedule he follows everyday to stay in shape — not that he needs it, but getting to brag about being able to lift you up certainly strokes his ego — and an extremely neat room that stays neat no matter what. He brushes his teeth three times a day, eats healthy meals, has a proper skincare routine and smells of sweet caramel even when he's dripping with sweat coming back from the gym or from an intense training session with your classmates. ln short, his hygiene is top notch.

Two, he's a little bit of a gym freak. Not that you'd ever mind, you even find it hot most of the time, but sometimes he gets provoked by his other gym buddies, mainly Kirishima and Kaminari, to try out all sorts of exercises with you on his back. Push-ups, squats, even yoga poses, literally anything they can think of just to see if it'd work. You've fallen on your ass more than he'd like, or care, to admit. Not because he wasn't strong, no, but because you cannot concentrate on holding onto him for the life of you, always getting distracted by the way his muscles flex and how he grunts from exertion. It's a sight for sore eyes, strands of hair sticking to his forehead while his usually spiky hair dampens and falls down beautifully, framing his face. It reminds you of your first night together, so of course you wouldn't be able to pay attention to anything else. You don't mention how incredibly good he looks in his compression shirts. Yes, he bought multiple after you oggled him up and hinted at loving the way they fit muscly men.

And last but not least, he's clingier than anyone you've ever met which is a stark, and quite frankly adorable, contrast to his sharp appearance. You're working on some assignments? He's bringing you food and making himself comfortable on your bed while putting on a weird dating show on the TV, occasionally checking up on you to remind you to take breaks. You're going for a quick grocery run? He doesn't waste a second to throw on whatever clothes he can find and join you, walking around the store with the shopping cart and imagining you two as a married couple well into your marriage shopping for your little family. You're taking a bath? Scooch over, he's helping you wash your hair and back. You're feeling sad? He's bringing your favorite ice cream and listening to you vent while gently running his hands over your face, back, thighs, arms, anywhere to soothe you. He cradles your face when your sobbing gets louder, pressing his forehead against yours to help ground you into reality, to snap yourself out of your worries by murmuring “I'm here, baby,” or “I got you”. All in all, he's a big softie for you.

He often shows his affection through his actions, but sometimes when the two of you are alone and in the silence of your bedrooms, he pushes his embarrassment aside and spills his heart out. He vents about hero work, about how he doesn't think he's good enough, or rather, nice enough to be a hero, always ending up berating people to hide his true intentions and words. It's something he's always struggled with, but he's been working on it constantly with you, his friends, and in therapy. He tells you everything about what happened during his time in highschool, how the man literally died for a minute, and how much that impacted his life onwards. You listen intently and comfort him through it, crushing him into a tight embrace to remind him you're there for him as well and that you'd do anything to make him happy. He tells you that your presence is enough.

He whispers soft “I love you”'s each night before you two drift off to sleep, letting his hand rest on the small of your back underneath your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his to be able to sleep. The warmth your body provides gets rid of his reoccurring nightmares and allows him to sleep soundly throughout the night with you by his side. And he very quickly realizes he never wants to lose you. Ever.

Because he might've slipped into having a little crush on you, but he willingly chose to fall in love with you.

© chocogoldie 2024. do not translate, copy, or repost.

a/n: a little smth i came up with while waiting for the poll to finish :3 hope u enjoyed it! not proofread

[nochepsicodelica]

Suggestive

"Tojiii," you squeal when he picks you up, before using his back to shut the car door. You lean forward and take a long whiff of the cologne he spritzed on the collar of his shirt. "Mmm... you smell so good. You trying to seduce me?"

He chuckles at the way you go back and sniff around his neck, like a dog. "Is it working?"

You inhale deeply once more, sighing exaggeratedly before responding. "Uh-huh. Want you to fuck me. Ugh, Toji, baby, i'm ready for you," you say, getting a head start by kissing his neck.

"Nah, pretty girl. Can't do that to you, tonight." He pins you to the door to keep you balanced as he fishes for the keys in his pocket.

"What?" You say, pausing the movement of your lips, your mood quickly deflated.

"What?" Toji repeats, looking at you as he turns the key in the lock. He lifts you off the door before opening it, keeping his eyes on yours.

"Am I not fuckable? You really don't wanna do me?"

"What are you even talking about, ma?" He shuts the door, locking it before carrying you to the bathroom to help you out like he usually does after a night out with plenty of drinks at your disposal.

"You..." your eyes start watering, enormous tears quickly forming and gliding down your cheeks. "You said you don't want me."

"That's not how I meant it, baby. Don't cry."

"What. Ever. I don't care anymore. Just... just put me down," you say, pushing at his chest.

"We gotta get you ready for bed," he says, setting you down on the edge of the sink. He grabs the pack of makeup wipes from the drawer you told him you keep them in and pulls a wipe out. "Close your eyes."

You do as he says, but only because you're stuck there until he moves out of the way. "I'm..." you sigh, heavily. "I'm s-sleeping on the couch, tonight."

"Mm... and why's that?" He asks, while focusing on wiping off the mascara from your eyelashes, and the trail that made its way down your cheeks. He's not concerned for what you said, because he knows for certain that that won't be the case at all.

"'Cause you don't love me. You've made it clear that you don't want to touch me. If we sleep in the same bed, my leg might graze yours." You laugh. "Who knows what'll happen if that happens. I'm surprised you even wanna be this close to me, now."

Toji sighs, throwing out the spent makeup wipe. He rests his hands on the counter, on each side of you, before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your lips. "Just got even closer, mama. What are you gonna do?" He laughs at your widened eyes, and when your expression contorts to one of sadness again, he can't help but maintain the amused grin on his face at how quickly your mood shifted.

"Be sad," you respond, softly. "You don't wanna make love to me? How can you kiss me and not want more?"

The sound of your voice breaking softened him up a little more. That and the insufferable look of hurt in your eyes. "Hey, look at me," he says, cupping your jaw to manually bring your gaze back to his. "It's not like that, at all. Don't cry over this, sweetheart." He runs his thumbs beneath your eyes, brushing away your returning tears. "You know I love you and I want you all the time, but I'm not gonna touch you like that when you're drunk." Your pretty eyes are killing him with how sad they look. Your cheeks are reddened and warm from the mix of the alcohol in your system and your emotions, and your lips are trembling. "Baby, you can't even walk straight. I'm not gonna take advantage of you. Stuff like that is only done by shitty people. You understand?"

"No," you choke out through a sob, breaking open the dam of your emotions.

"Of course you don't," Toji says, a soft smile taking over his features as he picks you up again and carries you to the room. He sets you down on the bed, propping you up against the pillows so you don't fall over. He can hear your sniffling subside as he rummages through your drawers, searching for something to change you into.

"You wanna wear shorts or just one of your really big shirts?" He asks, spotting your favorite oversized t-shirt. You don't answer, keeping your attention on your hands, letting him talk to himself like he's a crazy person. He calls for you, again, nothing more than a "ma", just incase you don't answer again. As he expected, more silence.

"Oh, so you're just not gonna talk to me, anymore?" He asks, turning to look at you, catching the way you shake your head slightly, still not looking at him. He grumbles to himself about your little attitude, before turning back to the dresser. He closes your drawers and opens one of his, fishing out one of the black shirts he always wears, before making his way back to you.

"Arms up," he instructs, grabbing onto the hem of your blouse. You sluggishly roll your eyes and lift your arms, allowing him to pull it off. He unfolds his shirt and scrunches it up so that he can facilitate the process of getting it on you. "Alright, put your arms in," he says, when you just sit there, unmoving. Again, your attitude shows as you follow his instructions, but the second your arms go in the holes and the material of the normally short sleeves extends to your forearms, you gasp.

"Your shirt?" You ask, enthusiastically. "It's your shirt?!" You ask, again, with the most lovestruck look on your face.

Toji snickers. "Yeah, baby. That's my shirt." Your eyes are filled with so much light, it's ridiculous how little it took to get this reaction out of you. You're literally giggling to yourself over a shirt, and he can't see it as anything short of adorable. "Alright, alright. Let's finish up so we can go to sleep."

You're a lot more willing to listen to him, now that your mood is boosted. You unbutton your shorts and lift your hips to slide them off, handing the article to Toji so he can put it in the dirty clothes hamper.

"Gonna go get some stuff from the kitchen. Be right back," he says, glancing at you before leaving the room. Not even two minutes later when he returned, you were already fast asleep, quiet breaths flowing past your lips. You laid on your back, your arms folded above your head. Toji shut the bedroom door before walking over to your nightstand to set a couple of ibuprofen tablets down beside a glass of water. He swiped his thumb over the corner of your lips, collecting the small patch of drool that glistened on your skin and wiping it off on his sweats. He went back to turn off the light, and quickly made his way to his side of the bed.

He turned you onto your side, earning a few irritated whines from you due to the disturbance. "I know, I know," he murmurs, pulling his shirt down to cover your exposed hip. He stayed up a little longer, to keep you from shifting onto your back when you stirred. His hand stayed firm on your waist, preventing you from moving much at all, and occasionally he got to laugh through his nose at your nonsensical sleep ridden mumblings.

[literalgrill]

Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.

"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."

"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.

Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?

Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.

So for once, you could breathe easy..

Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.

He must get a kick out of watching you perish.

"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"

"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"

"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."

Silence.

"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."

"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"

"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."

"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.

But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.

"Is the document for sale?"

"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."

You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.

Sebastian's Document

Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?

For some reason, it made you frown a little.

"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.

"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"

"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"

For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"

"It's more of a courtesy to you."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"

".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"

"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."

With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-

"Hey."

You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.

"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."

Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."

"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.

What you did was certainly a nice gesture.

He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.

What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.

It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.

That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.

Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."

The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.

They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?

And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"

They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.

They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.

It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.

Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.

To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.

Suddenly, a car horn.

Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"

Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"

There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"

Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"

And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".

Eddie wanted to punch him.

But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.

Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"

A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.

"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"

They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.

The man completely ignored them.

"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."

All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".

The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."

Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."

Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.

"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"

Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."

And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"

Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.

Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.

But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:

"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."

Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.

"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."

And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"

Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."

Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:

After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.

The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.

Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.

And finally...

The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".

[liz-on-leash]

A Bad Friend

[Commissioned]

NewJeans Kang Haerin × Male Reader

Noncon, Drugged, Fingering, Facefuck, Squirting, Creampie

4,850 Words

The air was buzzing with energy as you strolled around inside the college party. The music thumped through the speakers, the bass pulsing in your chest. 

The room was alive with movement - bodies swaying, drinks sloshing, laughter and chatter filling the air. The dim lighting cast a warm, hazy glow over the scene, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere.

Amidst the chaos, you spot Haerin sitting alone in the lounge, her phone clutched in her hands. You can't help but notice how her pretty features are tinged with a hint of sadness. 

You know she's here because her boyfriend Jihoon invited her, but had to back out at the last minute. Poor thing, all alone at a party where everyone else seems to be having a grand time.

You make your way over to her, a friendly smile on your face. "Yah, Haerin-ah," you call out, drawing her attention. Her face lights up when she sees you, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection. After all, the two of you have been friends since high school.

Haerin's face brightens, her big eyes shining with relief. “Oh, yah…" she calls your nickname, a wide smile spreading across her pretty features. You return the smile as you plop down on the sofa next to her.

"What is a pretty princess doing all alone over here?" you ask, acting not to know the gist of the situation. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Haerin's smile falters slightly as she lets out a small pout. "Jihoon oppa had to leave for a family thing at the last minute," she explains. "Now I'm just waiting around to leave. I already told him I'd get a taxi, but he hasn't replied yet."

You nod sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "Well, you don't have to wait around here all by yourself," you offer. "I can give you a ride home if you'd like."

You notice a flash of hesitation in her eyes before she quickly shakes her head. "No, it's okay," she insists. "I will just wait a little longer to see if Jihoon oppa replies. I don't want to put you out."

You know full well that Jihoon has probably warned Haerin to stay away from you. After all, you've never exactly been the model student - you've always been a bit of a troublemaker, much to Jihoon's apparent annoyance. 

You remember the smug little smirk on his face whenever he's with Haerin as if he's silently gloating over the fact that he got to "steal" her away from you - that only he manages to get in her pants. 

The thought of it irritates you, and you find yourself growing a bit more annoyed than usual before you are pulled from your reverie by Haerin's voice.

"You don't have to worry about me," she says with a smile. "Go have fun! I'll just wait here for a bit."

But you shake your head, returning her smile. "Nonsense, Haerin-ah, I'm your friend, of course, I'm going to keep you company." You stand up, gently squeezing her shoulder. "I will grab us a couple of drinks. Nothing too strong, I know, haha.”

Before she can protest, you turn and make your way towards the drink table. But instead of heading to the main bar, you veer off towards a small, more discreet-looking setup - the "special" booth, as it's known, that provides extra ingredients.

Haerin doesn't seem to suspect a thing as you return with two expertly crafted cocktails in hand.

Haerin flashes you a grateful smile as you return with the drinks. "Thank you so much for spending time with me," she says, taking the cocktail from your hand without a second thought.

As the two of you sip your drinks, you fall into an easy conversation, chatting about classes, professors, and the general chaos of college life. Haerin's cute laugh is music to your ears, and you notice the way her skirt rides up just slightly, exposing the smooth skin of her legs. 

Your gaze drifts to the small swell of her breasts beneath her shirt, and you feel your cock start to harden in anticipation.

Before long, Haerin's words begin to slur, her eyelids growing heavy. She doesn't seem to realize her state, continuing to prattle on as you nod and smile, your mind racing with wicked thoughts. 

Finally, her voice trails off as she loses consciousness, her head lolling forward.

Right on cue, Haerin's phone on the table lights up with a message from Jihoon, saying he will be there in 30 minutes. 

You scoff, cursing that smug bastard under your breath. Haerin is yours for the taking tonight - let's see how proud Jihoon can be after this.

You push aside your anger towards Jihoon, instead focusing your attention on your unconscious friend. You adjust Haerin's posture, guiding her head to rest against the backrest of the couch. 

Your fingers caress her soft cheeks, coaxing her lips into a delicate pout. "Such a pretty girl, about to get ruined." 

If only she had chosen a better man - for example, someone who didn't constantly get under your skin like Jihoon does. "Oh well," you sigh, "Time to have a taste of Kang Haerin." 

The couch is soft beneath Haerin's limp body, her once-vibrant frame now completely pliant and under your full control. You've been planning this moment for weeks, fantasizing about having your way with your friend, and now, with a little help from a potent sedative in her drink, she's at your mercy. 

Her long, slender legs, encased in sheer black stockings, dangle over the couch, twitching slightly as if in a dream. You smirk, knowing that soon, she'll be writhing in ecstasy, or so you hope.

Leaning closer, you inhale the sweet scent of her hair, a mix of vanilla and strawberries. Her breathing is slow and steady, a soft purr in her throat indicating she's deep under. You gently brush her jet-black locks away from her flawless porcelain face, exposing her delicate features. 

Her lips, usually so quick to challenge and tease, are now slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her pink tongue. You can't resist running your thumb across her plump lower lip, savoring her warmth. She's so fucking beautiful, and tonight, she's all yours.

Your eyes travel down her body, taking in the sight of her perky breasts rising and falling gently beneath her simple branded white shirt. The fabric is already loosened, hinting at the treasures beneath. 

But you're not in a hurry. You want to savor every moment of this violation. Your fingers trace the outline of her nipples, now hard and straining against the thin material. Haerin stirs slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips, but she remains unconscious, a willing victim to your desires.

With slow, deliberate movements, you slide your hand down her flat stomach, the muscles tensing at your touch. Her belly button, a tiny indent, quivers as your fingers poke across it. Further down, your hand reaches the hem of her short skirt. Her pussy, your ultimate destination, awaits.

You lift her hips, bunching her skirt around her waist. Her legs, those long, luscious limbs, fall open, offering you a glimpse of her panties. The fabric is sheer, leaving little to the imagination. 

You can see the outline of her bald, swollen pussy lips, already glistening. The scent of her drugged arousal hits you like a punch, a musky, feminine odor that makes your head spin in delight. 

You waste no time ripping her panties aside, the sound of tearing fabric filling the lounge. Haerin's cunt is exposed, a pink slit that's already beginning to flower under your intense gaze. 

Her clit peeks out from its hood, a tiny pearl begging for attention. You chuckle softly, reaching out to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger.

"Time to wake up, sleeping beauty," you whisper, giving her clit a sharp tug.

Haerin's body jerks, her legs squeezing together as her eyelids flutter, but remain hazy. She tries to speak, but her words are slurred and incoherent.

"Shh, it's me," you soothe, not wanting her to resist. “I'm keeping you company while your boyfriend is gone, remember? And I'm going to make you feel so good."

Your fingers dive into her slit, easily sliding through her juices, coating them in her essence. She's so wet, so ready, despite her confused state. You curl your fingers, searching for her sweet spot, and find it rather quickly. 

Haerin's body arches off the couch, her legs shaking as she tries to escape the sudden onslaught of pleasure. "No... stop..." she mumbles, but it's clear she doesn't mean it.

You don't listen anyway. Instead, you thrust two fingers into her tight cunt, pumping them in and out, violating her drugged innocence. Her pussy is hot and unbelievably wet, gripping your fingers. You add a second finger, stretching her, feeling her inner walls clench around you.

"You like that, Haerin-ah? You like being fucked by my fingers while you're out cold?" you taunt, slamming your digits into her harder.

Her eyes roll back, and she whimpers, her body betraying her. You lean down, biting her neck, marking her as you continue to finger-fuck her mercilessly. Her cunt is making lewd squelching sounds, filling the air with the scent of her sex.

Withdrawing your fingers, you admire her gaping hole, then deliver a sharp slap to her pussy lips, leaving a red handprint on her pale skin.

"You're so wet for me. I had no idea you're such a slut. Maybe Jihoon never made you cum like this," you sneer, slapping her again, enjoying her whimpers.

Haerin's eyes focus on you, a mix of confusion and lust clouding her vision. She tries to push you away, but her drugged state leaves her weak. "I'm… Hnn…" she manages, her voice hoarse.

You laugh, grabbing her thighs, and forcing her legs apart again. "You'll be begging for more soon. I'm gonna make you cum so hard you'll forget his name."

Your fingers dive back into her, curling and twisting, finding that sweet spot again. Haerin's body goes rigid, her back arching off the couch as she whines, a high-pitched sound of pure ecstasy. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers, milking them as her orgasm rips through her.

“There you go, cum for me," you encourage, pounding her cunt with your hand.

Her canal spasms uncontrollably, soaking your hand as she rides out her climax. You keep working on her, determined to make her cum again. Haerin's body trembles, her legs shaking violently as she tries to push you away, but you're relentless.

"Please... stop... can't take more..." she begs, her voice weak.

Ignoring her pleas, you show no mercy, adding a third finger, stretching her to the limit. Her pussy is a mess, juices running down her thighs, but you don't care. You want to degrade her, own her in this moment.

Withdrawing your fingers, you lift them to your mouth, sucking her essence off, savoring her taste. Then, grabbing her head, you shove your fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself.

"Lick them clean, you dirty girl," you command, holding her head still.

Haerin's hazy eyes are wide with shock, but she obeys, her pink tongue swirling around your fingers, cleaning them of her own juices. You grin, knowing you've marked her in more ways than one.

As you release her, Haerin collapses back onto the couch, her chest heaving, her body spent. You admire your handiwork, knowing you've given her an experience she will never forget. That is if she even remembers any of this at all.

Haerin's body lies beneath you, her awareness gradually returning to reveal the violation you've already inflicted. Her eyes, like pools of molten honey, weakly flicker open, revealing a haze of confusion and vulnerability that excites you to no end. 

With a smile, you straddle her delicate frame, positioning your throbbing erection directly in her line of sight, ensuring her quivering limbs are trapped between your powerful legs. Her chest rises and falls beneath you, the thin shirt now clinging to her sweat-soaked skin, outlining the rigid peaks of her nipples.

Haerin's breath catches, her body stiffening beneath your weight, as she becomes aware of the predator above her. You can almost taste her fear, a delicious appetizer to the main course you're about to serve. 

Her gaze locks onto your bulging crotch, her eyes widening as they take in the impressive length and girth of your cock, already straining free against the confines of your clothing.

"Open wide," you say, your voice dripping with lust as you grab a fistful of her silky hair, exposing her slender neck.

She tries to resist, a feeble attempt at rebellion, but her drugged state leaves her powerless against your strength. You yank her head towards your aching cock, making her whimper as her soft, pink lips part in anticipation. 

Her breath, hot and moist, washes over the sensitive head, causing it to throb and leak a thick bead of pre-cum.

"Come on, take it in," you coax, using her hair to guide her mouth onto your shaft.

Her lips touch the tip, hesitantly at first, then with more urgency as the taste of you excites her senses. Her mouth feels like a warm, wet glove as you push forward, inch by inch, stretching her lips around your thickness. 

A strangled moan escapes her, accompanied by a flood of drool that coats your shaft, making it glisten in the dim light. "Suck it, Haerin-ah," you command, your voice hoarse. "Show me how much you love my cock."

Her eyes, glazed with lust and confusion, meet yours as she reluctantly begins to move her head, taking you deeper into her mouth. The sensation is exquisite—her tongue, still groggy from the drug, clumsily caresses the underside of your cock, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

You hold her head in a firm grip, controlling the pace as you start to face-fuck her with deliberate thrusts. Her eyes water, tears mixing with the drool that freely flows from her mouth, creating a wet, sloppy symphony as you plunge her mouth. The sound of her gagging and the sight of her struggling only serve to heighten your arousal.

"Look at me. Are you secretly a cock-craving whore, Kang Haerin?" you sneer, forcing her to maintain eye contact as you fuck her mouth with increasing ferocity.

Haerin's throat contracts around your shaft, her body's natural response to the invasion, and it sends a jolt of pleasure through your nerves. You thrust harder, her nose buried in your pubic bone, her breath hot and desperate against your balls.

With each thrust, you feel her resistance melting away, her mouth becoming a willing participant in this depraved act. Her tongue, now more alert, swirls and flicks, learning the contours of your cock, making you grit your teeth to hold back your release.

“Ohh, fuck… I'm going to feed you so much of my cum,” you groan, slamming into her mouth with abandon.

Her eyes roll back, her body trembling beneath you as she tries to process the overwhelming sensations. Her hands weakly push against your thighs, a futile attempt to create some distance, but you easily swat them away, holding her in place.

As you pound her mouth, her lips and throat provide a tight, wet sheath for your cock, massaging and sucking you with each withdrawal and penetration. The slurping, gagging sounds fill the room.

"Swallow it all, or I can make you wear it and parade you all around the venue," you threaten, your voice desperate with impending release.

With a final surge, you unleash a torrent of hot cum down her throat, holding her head in an iron grip as you empty your balls. Haerin chokes and sputters, her eyes bulging as she tries to swallow, but you keep her impaled, forcing her to take every thick rope of your seed down her stomach.

You feel her throat muscles working, massaging your sensitive cock as she struggles to accommodate your load. Finally, you release her, allowing her head to fall back, her mouth hanging open, glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

Gasping for air, she stares up at you, her expression a mix of shame, pleasure, and disbelief. You admire the sight of her, knowing you've pushed her boundaries, marked her as your own. 

Adjusting your clothing, you shoot a final, possessive remark. “Remember this moment, Haerin-ah. Tonight, You're mine to fuck however I please."

Just as you're about to tuck yourself away, the sound of giggling and high-heeled footsteps approaches. Two women, clearly inebriated, stumble into the lounge, their eyes widening at the sight before them.

"Oh, shit! Are we interrupting something?" one of them slurs, her eyes flicking between Haerin's disheveled form and your half-exposed crotch.

You let out a bark of laughter, relishing the momentary confusion on their faces. "Not at all, ladies. Just having a bit of fun. Come on in, I was just finishing up anyway."

The taller of the two, a blonde with smudged makeup, raises an eyebrow. "Finishing up? Looks like the party's just getting started." She winks, taking a step closer, her gaze lingering on your brunette friend.

You'd love to stay and play, especially with Haerin's warm, cum-soaked body still waiting for  you, but you're aware of the ticking clock. Her boyfriend is on his way, and you have no intention of ruining your plan.

"Tempting as it is, I've got other plans for this one," you say, nodding towards Haerin. "But feel free to help yourselves to a drink."

With that, you scoop Haerin into your arms, her body limp and pliant, and gather her belongings. She mumbles incoherently, her eyes blinking as she tries to focus on your face.

"Where... what...?" she slurs, her voice hoarse from the rough face-fucking.

"We're going for a short ride, baby," you whisper, nuzzling her neck. "And then I'm gonna finish what I started."

You stride towards the door, Haerin's body cradled against your chest, her legs sagging, still bearing the marks of your fingers. The two women watch, mouths agape in a chuckle as you exit.

Outside, you gently deposit Haerin into the backseat of your car, arranging her skirt to provide a modicum of modesty. Her eyes drift shut again, her body surrendering to the drug's pull. You start the engine, a devious plan forming in your mind.

"Time to take this party somewhere more private, Haerin-ah," you mutter, pulling away from the curb.

The drive to your apartment is a blur of streetlights and growing lust. Haerin remains unconscious, her body swaying with the motion of the car. You can't wait to have her again, to mark every inch of her without the fear of interruption.

As you pull into the empty parking lot of your building, the excitement builds. You carry her up the stairs, relishing the weight of her in your arms, and unlock your door, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of your home.

Haerin's eyes flutter open momentarily as you lay her on your bed, the soft sheets welcoming her small body. She blinks, trying to focus, her lips forming a question.

Your gaze remains fixed on Haerin's body as you begin to undress, your cock already stirring back to life, eager for another round. You peel off your clothes, revealing your muscular frame, every inch of you focused on the beauty lying on your bed. 

Her eyes, slightly clearer, watch you with fear as she processes her surroundings. In one motion, you yank her skirt up, exposing her stocking-clad legs. 

The delicate fabric clings to her thighs, accentuating her slender limbs. You then tear the material away, leaving her stockings intact as a sexy contrast to her pale skin.

Haerin's breath quickens as you pull her body up to remove her shirt, her movements weak and uncoordinated. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the haze from her mind. "No... please..." she whimpers, a feeble attempt at resistance.

You snatch her shirt and bra from her body in one swift motion, baring her perky breasts. Her nipples, already hard and erect, stand at attention, begging for attention.

"Relax, Haerin-ah," you whisper, your voice a low, menacing purr. "You're gonna beg for more after I'm done. Trust me."

She tries to push against your chest, but you easily overpower her, pinning her hands above her head, holding her in place. "Why are you doing this? We're friends..." she pleads, her voice cracking.

You lean down, your lips brushing against her ear. "Friends fuck, Haerin. And I've been wanting to fuck you for a long time. Especially now, to teach that asshole boyfriend of yours a lesson."

Her eyes widen at your words, a mix of anger and unwanted arousal flashing across her face. Before she can respond, you align your throbbing cock with her sticky slit, the tip already slick with her juices.

"No... please, not like this..." she begs, her voice breaking as you tease her entrance, not yet granting her the penetration her drunk body craves.

With one thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, claiming her pussy in one stroke. Her eyes roll back, and she screams, the sound raw and primal. “Ohh God—!"

Her body trembles beneath you, her pussy gripping your shaft like a vice, milking you as her internal muscles spasm. You feel her heat, her wetness, enveloping you, welcoming you home.

"Scream harder for me," you grunt, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into her, over and over, setting a brutal pace.

Haerin's cries fill the room, a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Oh God, oh God, please... it's too much..." she sobs, her body shaking with each violent thrust.

You show no mercy, pounding into her, your balls slapping against her ass with each retreat and advance. Her pussy is so tight, her walls massaging your cock, threatening to milk your load prematurely.

"You feel that, Haerin? My cock owning your pussy?" you grunt, reaching down to pinch her hard nipples, making her arch her back.

"Yes... oh yes... I feel it..." she cries, her voice hoarse. "It's... too much..."

You lean down, biting her neck, marking her as yours. "You're gonna take it all, every inch, and you're gonna beg for more," you promise, your voice a gravelly growl.

With each thrust, you go deeper, harder, your cock hitting her cervix, making her see stars. Her body is a mess of sensations, the drug intensifying every touch, every penetration.

"Please... I can't... I'm gonna..." Haerin's words trail off as her body tenses, her pussy clamping down on your cock as she's hit with a powerful orgasm.

You don't let up, continuing to pound her through her climax, determined to make her see stars again. Her screams echo in the room, a testament to the raw, animalistic sex unfolding on your bed.

As Haerin's resistance crumbles, you release her wrists, knowing she's now completely at your mercy. Instead, you grasp her hips, your fingers digging into her flesh, and lift her, angling her body to meet your relentless assault. She clutches the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white, as she screams, her voice raw and hoarse.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries, her words becoming indistinguishable from the guttural sounds of pleasure and pain.

You watch her face, contorted in ecstasy, as you thrust into her roughly. Her eyes, wild and unfocused, stare up at you, pleading and inviting at the same time. Your cock, a rigid piston, disappears into her wet heat with each forward lunge, only to emerge slick and glistening before slamming back home.

The force of your thrusts lifts her body off the bed, her ass meeting your groin with a satisfying smack on each downstroke. You feel her inner walls, hot and slick, gripping and massaging your shaft, threatening to milk your cum prematurely. But you hold back, wanting to drive her to the brink of insanity.

Her pussy, now raw and swollen, stretches to accommodate your thickness, the lips molding around your girth, leaving a red, puffy outline as you withdraw. Her juices flow freely, coating your cock and balls, creating a lewd, glistening display.

"Please, stop, it hurts!" Haerin begs, her voice cracking. "Your cock... it's in my stomach... it hurts so much!"

You chuckle, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into her, making her body jerk. "Liar. You love it. You're just a dirty cum slut who can't get enough."

Her cries turn to incoherent moans as you lean down, your free hand pressing against her distended belly, adding a new layer of sensation to her already overstimulated body. Her orgasm, which had momentarily subsided, reignites with a vengeance.

"No... again... can't..." she whimpers, her legs stiffening, her body shaking as she's hit with another powerful climax.

You feel her pussy convulsing around your cock, trying to pull your seed from your balls. With each spasm, you thrust harder, driving her over the edge again and again.

Haerin's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed, as she screams, her throat raw from her incessant cries. Her pussy clamps down on you, a grip that threatens to send you over the edge.

You violate her deeper, harder, your balls slapping against her swollen, sensitive lips, driving her to the brink of consciousness. Her tits, bouncing wildly with each impact, leave a trail of saliva and sweat as they sway with the rhythm of your pounding.

"Cum for me again, Haerin-ah," you demand, your voice a raspy command. "Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."

Haerin's body convulses, her orgasm ripping through her like an electric current, causing her to see stars. Her juices flow, adding to the wet, sloppy sounds of your fucking, as she surrenders to the pleasure you're inflicting upon her.

As your climax approaches, you feel the familiar tightening in your balls, the knot forming, signaling your impending release. Your thrusts become more deliberate, slower, as you savor the moment. 

Coincidentally, Haerin's phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the room. You see the caller—her boyfriend. An evil grin spreads across your face as you withdraw from her, leaving her pussy gaping, glistening with her juices.

Haerin, sensing a momentary respite, flips onto her stomach, her body trembling, as she tries to crawl away, her movements uncoordinated and weak. You chuckle, striding across the room to answer the phone.

"Jihoon sunbaenim? How's it going?" you answer, your voice laced with false formality.

Haerin, hearing her boyfriend's voice, freezes, her eyes wide with panic. You toss the phone onto the bed beside her, the screen lighting up her tear-streaked face. 

"He wants to talk, Haerin-ah. Go ahead, explain what you've been up to."

She shakes her head, her body trembling, as she tries to cover herself with the sheets. "Please... don't..." she begs, her voice vibrating.

Ignoring her pleas, you grab her by the waist, pulling her up onto all fours, her ass high in the air, presenting herself to you. She knows what's coming, her body betraying her as she begins to leak fresh juices, her pussy still swollen from your rough treatment.

"Looks like she's too busy to talk right now," you say into the phone, positioning yourself behind her. "But I'll be sure to pass on your regards."

With that, you plunge back into her, your thick cock stretching her well-used hole. Haerin screams, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the sound, but it's no use. Jihoon's voice, now frantic, fills the room as he hears her cries.

You grip her hips, holding her in place, as you begin to pound into her from behind, your balls slapping against her clit. Her body is a canvas of pleasure and pain, her ass cheeks quivering with each impact.

"Fuck! Fuck! Oh God— No!" Haerin screams, her voice muffled by her hand, her body betraying her as she pushes back against your thrusts, meeting your rhythm.

You reach around, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and yank her head back, arching her body, exposing her neck. 

Her response is a guttural moan, her body going limp as she resigns to the sensations coursing through her veins. You feel her pussy clench around your cock, milking you as she's hit with another powerful orgasm.

With a throaty grunt, you unleash your load deep inside her, your cock pulsing as you fill her womb with your seed. Haerin screams, her body shaking, as she's forced over the edge once more, her juices flowing to mix with your cum.

You hold her in place, your cock twitching as you empty yourself into her, before pulling out with a loud, wet squelch. Haerin collapses, unconscious, her body spent and satisfied. 

You laugh, ending the call, and head to the kitchen, leaving her lying there, sated and vulnerable. As you pour yourself a drink, you can't help but chuckle, anticipating her reaction when she wakes up, the realization of what her trusted friend has done.

[csainzoperator]

baby : CL16 ☆

summary: y/n horner has dropped a new single. its a sexy and fun song. but y/n had broken up 4 years ago, and since then there was one superhit album with a sad and shady vibe. new year, new y/n? or new man? let's find out.

(charles leclerc × singer!reader)

trigger warnings: sexual intendos, typos (tried my best to not make any)

face claim: barbara palvin

read more under the cut!

y/nusername has posted!

hi, lovers. i know its been quite a while since you've heard from me but hey! i'm back and my single "baby" is dropping on friday, 8/12/23. stay tuned for more updates. love you all always, i thank each one of you as i wouldn't be here if it weren't for you guys 💋

liked by taylorswift, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 928,712,821 others

christianhorner proud of you, darling ❤️

- gerihalliwellhorner WE are proud of you (the spice girl inside me is squeaking)

landonorris GO BESTIE

- y/nusername ILY DUMBASS

carlossainz55 all the drivers can't wait for this! (we all are disgusted on the inside)

- y/nusername 🤭🤭

- estiebestieee GIRL WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

- y/nloverrr stop....DOES THAT MEAN THE DRIVERS HAVE HEARD THE SONG ALREADY

- pierregasly 🤐

y/nfann YOU LOOK SO PRETTY

paddockclubb y'all wondering if the drivers have heard the song when i'm out here questioning reality cos CHARLES LECLERC HAS LIKED THIS POST.

it was the end of season lunch and you were kind of nervous as you would finally be telling your parents about charles and you. your friends were thrilled but you just didn't know how your father would react.

the heavenly creatures and godly people had given you a blessing. BECAUSE NO WAY IN HELL YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT IT ALL ALONG?

"you aren't letting him in on any red bull secrets now, are you?" your father questioned you. and you replied right back, with mock seriousness. "you mean have i told him how max cuddles his cats and how checo never stops talking about mexican food? yes dad i've kept that a secret." your boyfriend lets out a chuckle as you finish your sentence, squeezing your thigh below the table.

"aww maxie you're a softie at heart" lando teases him as max glares at you playfully. the brunch was a success and you just couldn't wait to get back to the hotel with charles because, oh dear lord. he looked absolutely ravishing. divine. sublime even. and he knew what was on your mind, the way his hands kept brushing yours, his soft kisses when no one was looking. you felt it all.

y/nusername has posted!

fancy hotel but this is how we showed up 🤞🏼 liked by christianhorner, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 99,827 others.

landonorris oooh who's that hot man

- y/nusername carlossainz55 come get your child

- carlossainz55 my apologies

- carlaaaando EXACTLY WHO IS THAT MAN

charles_leclerc 🌟

y/nusername has liked this comment

- f1wags WTF ARE Y'ALL SEEING THIS.

- estiebestiee if y/n and charles are a thing. I'M NOT READY FOR THIS 🖐🏼

y/nloverr OK BUT THE UPGRADE THO. from that trash guy 4 years ago to charles mfkin leclerc 🙏🏼

it was the big day. your single was about to drop today and your boyfriend was lying down on your lap, telling you how he would LOVE to tell the world that the song was about him. you agreed, it was about him. he slowly got up and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands slip under your shirt.

"aren't we getting cheeky now, mr leclerc?" you teased. "oh we are just getting started, baby" he mumbles as he kisses down your neck. and just like that, he made your big day much more special by his, let's say, needy touches.

y/nusername has posted!

"baby" out now on all platforms! enjoy streaming. sending kisses 💋 liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton and 288,718,123 others.

y/nfannn "baby, baby, do i taste like candy, sugarcoated he says i'm the most sweet" UM GUYS????? I'M NOT OK 🖐🏼

landonorris great song ig 🙄

- y/nusername oh cmon we all know you love it

lewishamilton great job, sis. got a sick beat 🖤

y/nusername has liked this comment

f1wags GUYS. I'M 100% SURE THAT'S CHARLES' BACK.

- carlandooo RAH STOP I'M WEAK IN MY KNEES RN

y/nloverrr "i'm a handful but, that's what hands are for. pin me to the floor, treat it like its yours" SCREAMING YELLING KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR GN. she ate that up 🙏🏼

charles_leclerc 🤭

charles_leclerc has posted!

"baby" is ab me. y'all can cry now 🤭 liked by y/nusername, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 287,112,123 others.

y/nusername i love you, baby.

- charles_leclerc NAH. i love you more.

- y/nusername shut up, i will kill every person who says against me, i love you more.

- charles_leclerc wow look at you making me all scared AND getting me horny at the same time.

landonorris UM. I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT.

pierregasly THERE ARE KIDS ON THIS APP.

maxverstappen1 why y'all acting like we didn't know since ages. anyways. *pretends to be shook* CONGRATS GUYS!

y/nleclercfan PARENTS 🤞🏼

lechairrr y/n basically told us how good charles is in bed by her song 😭

f1wags HAH. I KNEW IT. I SAW IT COMING BUT I'M STILL SO SHOOK RN?????

scuderiaferrari red looks good on you guys ❤️

the end ♡

[wolfiesmoon]

A cat is a cat

Leona x gn!reader

Caaaan you feeeeel the looove toniiight~~♪

ok i'll stop

School is stressin me the f out but but i'll survive for leona🫡🫡🫡🫡

"Are you okay? Why are you just staring at me?" You ask, confused at Leona's staring. He's been sitting next to you and just... looking at you for a while now. You made eye contact with him and somehow you've just been sitting there for 10 minutes as he slowly blinks at you every now and then.

His face scrunched up at your words and he looked a little hurt for a moment before looking away. "It's nothin'."

"I saw that." You were reffering to the 'kicked puppy face' and you know he knew what you meant. But alas, he just crossed his arms and insisted he doesn't know what you mean.

"Ouuukay then." You looked in front of you, not knowing what else to say or do. But you couldn't get the way he looked at you or the way he got offended over your nonchalance out of your head. What is up with that? Is it a beastman thing? What does staring at someone mean to lions?

This calls for a beastman behaviour research session, you suppose...

.

Even after various google searches of the phrase "what does it mean when your lion boyfriend stares at you for a long time" and its variations, you couldn't come to a conclusive answer.

The point is, this must be one of those things which you're just supposed to know in a relationship. There's no guidebook for it out there.

Which puts you in a tough spot since you don't know what to apologise for. Leona seems unbothered around you but Ruggie did tell you he's been sulking and asked you if you know the reason a few days ago.

Grim even had to snap you out of your thoughts a few times during class because you were so bothered by it. Yeah, the same guy that's practically asleep as soon as Trein opens his mouth.

Speaking of Trein, you were staring at his cat during magic history class and suddenly remembered something. You watched a 'cat facts' video out of pure boredom a few weeks ago and in that video they mentioned that cats show affection by slowly blinking at eachother. And that it applies to big cats too.

Oh.

OHHHHH.

Oh my god, it all makes sense now!

Suddenly you're seeing Leona in a more adorable, pet cat-like way. You can't believe that lion beastmen actually kept that aspect of their cat counterparts, but it's a very cute surprise for sure!

You also realise now why he looked so hurt. During that whole blinking session he was wordlessly telling you how much he loves you only for you to go "Why are you staring at me?". You'd be sad if that happened to you, too.

Suddenly you can't wait for history class to be over. You've got a stubborn lion man to apologise to.

But now you can't help but wonder what other instincts Leona took over from his animal counterpart.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arsenal II

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The last match against Arsenal

Pernille doesn't like to see you sad.

It goes against her very core as your mother.

When you were a baby, she used to pick you up every time you cried. As a toddler, she let you into the Big Bed every time you whined. Now, as a child, she can't let you out of her sight when you grow morose.

It was expected though, for today to effect you like this.

It was the last match Chelsea would have against Arsenal before you all packed up your lives and moved back to Germany.

Arsenal is your favourite English team, no matter how many times Magda tried to bribe you into choosing Chelsea. You adore the players and the club and, while Pernille knows you want her and Magda to win things, you wouldn't be too sad if the title was awarded to Arsenal out of nowhere.

You've woken up sad. You've eaten your breakfast sad. You've spent the whole day sad no matter how many times Magda and Pernille have tried to cheer you up.

You were a little sniffly in the car and Magda even let you wear your Arsenal shirt even though you'd be sitting on the Chelsea bench.

"There she is! Little Gunner in the making!"

You look up at the familiar voice of Leah.

You didn't even realise the warm ups had started.

"When are you coming to play for us, huh?"

You shrug.

You like Leah, you really do. She's tall and she's funny and sometimes she clashes with Momma on the pitch and that's kind of cool to watch. You want to be happy to see her but she's just a reminder that you're leaving.

You don't know why you have such weird feelings about leaving.

You like England but you like Germany too. You like living in England but you liked living in Germany too. England and Germany. Germany and England.

You're sure that you'll enjoy living in Germany again but right now, all you can think about is the fact that you don't really want to leave.

"What's the face for? Not happy to see us?" Beth has joined Leah now and you look up at both of them, swinging your feet.

You shrug again.

You don't know how you feel about any of this.

Your emotions flip flop around quicker than you can understand them as you sit on the bench in a weird form of limbo as everything happens around you.

You don't want to leave London but you do. You want to go and live in Germany again but you don't.

Everything is so confusing and your tummy swirls around with everything that you're keeping buried deep down.

"She's having a bit of a hard day," Magda says, rubbing your shoulder gently.

You turn into her body, burying your face into her shirt as if she could shield you away from all the change going on around you.

Morsa is big and strong. She'll be able to protect you.

Momma's there as well because you can feel her pick you up and place you on her hip. You hide yourself away in her neck and she rubs your back.

"We..er...Can we borrow her after the match?" Leah asks, jerking her thumb back towards the tunnel," We've got some stuff for her."

"That would be nice, wouldn't it, Princesse?"

You don't respond, just sitting mute on the bench.

You don't remember much of the match. You wouldn't be able to tell anyone who won. You just sit on the bench with your head down in an Arsenal shirt, getting the sinking feeling that it would be a long time until you would be back to see them play.

(One day, you'll win a league title in a sold out Emirates Stadium with the team).

But right now, all you can think about is that you're leaving. It's all you can think about even as Morsa and Momma take your hands and guide you to the Arsenal locker room.

You're numb to most things as you're helped up into somebody's cubby. You start paying attention again when Viv kneels in front of you.

Viv is cool. She's one of the best strikers in the world and you've let a lot of people know that. She's quiet as well. She's not as loud as Beth or Katie but you don't think she needs to be.

People watch Viv because she's great, because she's the best. People look at Viv and can't help but listen to what she has to say.

"We'll miss you on the Chelsea bench celebrating for us," She says to you and you sniffle.

"Miss you guys too," You manage to get out as tears dip down your face.

You blink away your blurry vision as Viv holds her shirt out for you.

"You keep this safe for me, alright?" She says.

"I don't have a shirt to give you."

"Don't worry about it. I want you to have this one."

(One day, when you're older, you'll play against Chelsea at a sold out Emirates and win. One day, you'll give Viv your own shirt.)

"I don't want to leave anymore." You look past the Arsenal girls to look at Momma and Morsa standing by the door. "Why can't we stay here? I don't want to go to Bayern!"

You keep looking at them but Viv touches your knee gently. "I used to play at Bayern, you know."

"Really?"

"Yep. Before I came to Arsenal. It's not all bad. You speak German, right?"

You nod.

"I didn't speak German when I moved so I struggled a bit. You'll have to help out Magda when you get there."

"I can do that."

"I'm sure you'll learn a lot in Germany so when you're older you can come back here and show it all off."

You nod.

Viv grins. "Good. Now, I think everyone wanted a group picture before you go off. You up for that?"

The picture gets buried somewhere in your picture album at home but you never forget about it, even after you leave Arsenal again.

[sweetteainthesummerx]

☄. *. ⋆ mine ⋆ . * . ☄

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: nico hischier x eldest daughter!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, sex is mentioned, but not too graphic!! fluff and happy ending

song: mine by taylor swift

summary: you've had to fight for yourself and everyone your whole life, now you have nico to fight for you.

word count: 2.5 k

notes: UGH nico my love!! this is for all of the eldest daughters who deserve the world :) hope you enjoy!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

i was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin', wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

it's during one of your first dates with nico when you realize this boy is special.

you don't do relationships. you're sensible enough to know that romance isn't like how it's portrayed in media because even if there is love between two people, there will always be hesitations and complications.

complications that you do not need, not when your job keeps you busy and you have your family to think of.

there's another reason though, one you don't like to think much of as a reason for your aversion to vulnerability.

you grew up with an absent father and a mother who cared too much. your perception of love had been thrown out the window, stomped on and ran over.

so when you meet nico at a bar and he asks for your number, you don't expect it to progress anywhere.

but he's so handsome, all dimples and foreign accent as he buys you a drink and tells you that you're pretty.

three dates in, he's got you wrapped up in his arms between his legs on his bed.

he's warm, broad chest under your back. you snuggle closer, pressing the tops of your cold feet into his calves. he dips his face into your shoulder and smiles.

the notebook is playing on the tv facing his bed as he fiddles with your fingers. you told him it was your favourite last week when he took you out to an art museum. you didn't expect him to remember.

you cannot believe this man. he's made you cum three times, once with his mouth, another with his fingers and the last with his cock.

and then he drew you a bath and dried your hair for you.

when you ask him why, he puffs out his chest awkwardly, scratching one of his big bicep and tells you he really likes you and he wants to take care of you.

who does that in this day and age?

he had texted you earlier to see if you were free for dinner. you expected mediocre food and then sex.

maybe a few minutes of cuddling before you left his apartment, but he's breathing in the smell of his shampoo on your hair, holding you like it's the only thing he wants to do on a saturday night, after he had you writhing in his sheets for nearly an hour.

you want to run, because he makes you speechless and your mouth dries up with how sweet he is. you're not used to being taken care of, as sad as it sounds.

normally you would be halfway back to your apartment if had been anyone else.

but this time, something tells you to stick around because you have a premonition that even if you do get hurt, nico hischier is going to be worth it.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

we're takin' on the world together, and there's a drawer of my things at your place

"hey, handsome." your boyfriend of a month comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss into your hair.

he asks you to be his girlfriend during a morning walk in the park, eyes earnest. you say yes eagerly, because you don't know if there's something so different about him, but he makes you so deliriously happy.

so after a week or two of dancing around each other and no labels, he makes you his with a sweet, long kiss next to the flowers that are starting to bloom in the damp spring air.

now you're in his kitchen, words coming easy to you again. you tell him he looks handsome with his wet hair and week-old beard.

he flushes like he always does when you compliment him.

cute, you think.

you turn from the overnight oats you're making for him to kiss him properly. he nips your lip and you laugh.

"I have something for you, schatz ." the pet name makes you weak in the knees, and you're glad he has you pinned against the counter.

he slips a key into your fingers.

your heart drops to your stomach, and it bounces back up.

"really?" you ask, and he shrugs, oddly shy and pink.

"you're here so much, and I want you around more. it doesn't make since to drive all the way to your apartment when it's dark."

you swoon; does he even know the effect he has on you?

soon, half of his closet is full of your clothes, your pink toothbrush has a spot next to his and your girly products he has no idea how to use are scattered on his counter.

he buys you a nightstand for your side of the bed, and it has a picture of the two of you on it.

you wonder if it's too early in the relationship for something like this, but nico tells you he doesn't care.

he just wants you. you want to cry, because no one has ever just wanted you, with all of your complications and busy schedule.

he cuddles you to sleep and tells you that the two of you can take on the world together, and the first time in a while, you feel content and steady.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded, you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

you don't think of your father often. he left when you were 13, when you were young enough to be ridden with emotion and the feelings of inadequacies because why didn't he want you?

but you were also old enough to take care of your four younger siblings as your mother took to bed, her own problems boiling up.

sure, he kept up with birthdays and holidays by sending money instead of well wishes, but you wanted him to be present.

the last you saw of him was at your high school graduation a few years ago. you've given up since then, because he's remarried and has step-kids he treats the way he should've treated you and your siblings.

your mother has moved on. she's dating again and you like seeing the flushed glow on her cheeks over facetime as she tells you about some math teacher that took her out to an Italian restaurant.

your youngest brother, the runt of your family, your sisters always joke, is finally 18 this year.

they can all fend for themselves and you are just you.

sure, they still call you up every few weeks with something trivial, but you are no longer just the oldest of four, or the reliable daughter your mother counted on for everything.

and nico reminds you of this all the time when you start to worry and get in over your head.

you're happy and carefree. you go out with nico and his team mates who gag when the two of you kiss, and laugh at your jokes.

nico takes you on dates, and lets you try and cook swiss dishes on his days off.

your mind is clear of your father, until he calls you on a wednesday night.

nico is fast asleep beside you, and you have to wiggle out of his embrace to reach for your phone.

"hello?" you ask groggily. you don't check the caller id, but you wish you had when your father says your name enthusiastically into the phone.

you want to throw up. what does he want?

"listen, kid. I know I don't call enough, but Johnny is a huge hockey fan. I was wondering if there is anyway that you could get tickets since your boyfriend plays for the devils?"

"how did you find out-" you asked, half-shocked he still has your number saved, and half-shocked at the sheer audacity he has to ask you for a favour for one of his step-sons.

"I saw on the news, kid. now, I would really appreciate if you could do this for your father-"

you want to berate him. if he has the time to read those useless gossip pages, why hasn't he come to see you or even called just because?

you don't even realize nico is awake, but he takes the phone from you.

"excuse me, sir, but your daughter has an early day tomorrow. she needs to go. she'll call you back, if she wants."

he hangs up and turns to you, eyes soft in the light of the lamp he turns on to see you better.

"oh, schatz," he sighs, pulling you into his lap and wiping you tear-wet face.

you're sobbing, but you need to stop. he doesn't need to see you like this, not when this was the behaviour that made your dad leave your mom.

he pulls at your fingers that are stifling your cries and kisses each one of them delicately, "let it out, liebling."

he hates that you think he's going to leave you. he hates what your father has done to the way you think, and he hates that your hurting.

seeing you cry makes something primal and angry stir in his chest, because you deserve all of the good things in the world and more.

it frustrates him that there is nothing for him to do, no one to punch - well, maybe your dad - and all he can do is be there for you.

between the conversations about why you're so guarded and the way you pull back whenever your relationship progresses with him, he knows.

he knows your scared, but he's so determined to make you see that he's so willing to do anything for you, and your future.

"I promise you," he whispers when you calm, only hiccuping slightly, "we will never make your parents' mistakes."

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

i ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street...braced myself for the goodbye...then you took me by surprise, you said, "I'll never leave you alone"

"why didn't you talk to me about this before hand?" he huffs, setting down his mug.

you can feel something jittery and hot floating a milimeter above your skin, incasing you in the want to retract, to leave.

your stomach is empty and you want to vomit. you can't look at him, not with frustration on the tip of your tongue.

"I didn't think you needed a say in my career!" you exclaim, and the hurt on his face makes it hard to breathe.

"I would like to know what's going on with my girlfriend, especially if she has to travel every month for work!" he rubs his temples, "we hardly see each other as is-"

"I need to support myself! I would love to quit and be a trophy wife, but forgive me for needing financial independence in case you leave me!"

you scream that last part, and tears are starting to sprout in your eyes. this is so stupid, but there is no part of you that can shake off that needling feeling that he might go.

nico gapes at you, trying to unpack everything.

you shake your head, fingers trembling as you stand.

"I'll give you some space." you have no where to go, maybe your sister's house two hours away by train, but you can't stand the tortured look on his face.

you run out, ignoring his calls of your name until he catches you on the street.

his fingers loop around your wrist easily, and you want to shake them off because you can't bear having his gentle touch now and losing it later.

"I'll never leave you alone, schatz. you know that. so don't walk out on me, please."

you hang your head low; you love him so much, but it's so hard.

you're so afraid to lose him you're not letting yourself love him.

you tell him so, and his face crumples as he takes you in his arms.

you whisper promises to each other under the streetlights, to never leave each other and to communicate better.

from then on, you believe everything he says.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

nico is watching you from the kitchen, because your youngest sister forced you to sit on the couch and gave him a dirty look that had him following her into the kitchen to help with the drying.

she notices the smile on his face: soft, completely unguarded and full of admiration.

she sighs. maybe you are in good hands after all.

when you called a month ago to tell her that nico brought you to switzerland on a whim and you didn't panic, make an itinerary and freak out, she almost choked on her water.

you who bared your teeth at the unknown, who always needed a plan?

he made you so carefree. it makes her relieved that you have him now, because she saw how bad things were when your mother was depressed and you were balancing school, a part time job and watching all of them.

she was too young to understand anything then, but she wishes now that she had behaved better, understood more, just to take a pound off of the heavy burden you carried.

"y'know, I think you're making her a rebel."

"what?" your boyfriend laughs at the younger girl, and she nods seriously.

"she came late today, and she only fixed the flowers once. that's crazy improvement."

"hmm." he's smiling at you again, while you laugh at something one of your brothers' had said. she relishes in the fact that he can hardly take his eyes off of you.

"she's had to fight for us her whole life," this gets nico's attention, "and she's had to fight for herself. we were always here, but we were too young to understand the weight she carried for us."

"but now," she feels oddly emotional, the unwarranted guilt she has from simply not understanding dissolving in her throat, "she has you to fight for her."

you, her sweet sister who wasn't grown and was forced to take on more than any kid did, finally had someone in her corner.

you could afford to be careless once in a while now.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

+ you are the best thing that's ever been mine

you are undeniably sick: runny nose, shivers, a cough.

calling into your job for a day off, you sleep in until your phone shines 2:37 PM.

nico hears your stirring, and comes in. he smoothes your hair and kisses your red nose.

quietly, because he's afraid your head hurts, he hands you a bowl of soup and reties your hair for you.

he fusses, the captain side of him coming in as he fluffs your pillows and rub your shoulders.

you can't remember the last time someone looked after you when you were sick.

so maybe it's the delirium and the fact you can't really breathe, but you give him a loopy smile (the Advil was kicking in).

"you are the best thing that's ever even mine, handsome."

he flushes and rolls his eyes affectionately, and cuddles you close.

your statement still stands when he inevitably gets sick half a week later and becomes a whiny baby.

you love him so, so much.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[feninina]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

[hippiegoth97]

Random Eddie Thought #2

This one really got away from me, but it's nice to write something new again :)

18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie, smut, sex dreams/fantasies, mentions of genital piercings/oral sex/masturbation/choking/unprotected sex, invasion of privacy, erections, crying, heavy kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lovers

A Few Tags: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @mediocredreams

@micheledawn1975 @slowandsteddie @bimbobaggins69 @etherealxwitch @taintedcigs

You're in the kitchen of your apartment, getting a snack to share with Eddie, your best friend, who's come to have a perfectly platonic sleepover with you. You've known each other since high school, becoming fast friends. You never fit in the with 'in crowd' and Eddie naturally picked up on your awkward and shy nature. Over the years he's managed to get you to open up more and be yourself, though it's mostly only around him, even after all these years. You tell each other everything, and have been there for one another through thick and thin.

One thing he hasn't seemed to notice, however, is your growing feelings for him. As you both matured into your mid-twenties, you've been unable to deny just how gorgeous Eddie is. With his long curls, big brown eyes, and lithe body covered in tats and piercings. Not to mention he's perpetually dressed in band tees and jeans that don't leave much to the imagination. Ugh, he's absolutely perfect. Inside and out.

That's not to say he hasn't always been hot stuff, because of course he has. But he's not the scrawny little boy who picked you out of a long line of geeks and freaks anymore. No, now he's a strong, handsome, sexy man. A man who treats you like no one ever has before. He brings you something every time he comes to see you, ranging anywhere between a new book or a pretty rock he found on a walk once. He opens doors for you, and holds you in his arms when you're sad. He makes you soup when you're sick, nursing you back to health even if it means missing work.

The only thing missing, is something you've craved since the day you met him. Something you've never spoken aloud. Something you've only verbalized in late night cries of ecstasy when you get off to the thought of your best friend. Something you've only admitted in the pages of your diary. The diary that Eddie has just found in your bedside drawer, along with a pretty pink rabbit that makes him chuckle when he first sees it.

And what do we have here?... Eddie thinks to himself, pulling the book out of its hiding place. It's thick, bound in leather, detailed with little leaves and flowers. He thinks maybe it's a poetry journal, or a sketchbook. You share his affinity for the creative. It isn't until he actually opens that he realizes what's inside. Your deepest, darkest secrets. He flips through the pages, noting the dates as he reads about strange dreams you've had, or bad one-night stands. His eyes widen when he reaches an entry from a week ago, with the opening line: I dreamt about Eddie again last night...

He debates putting the diary back, not wanting to invade your privacy. He's not one to snoop, especially when you tell him everything anyway. Well, at least he thought you did. He bites his lip, tapping his foot on the floor as he decides what to do. He really should just put it back, and pretend he never saw it (or your special toy). But something inside him begs to know what your dreams of him are like. If they're anything resembling the dirty fantasies he's had of you while alone in his bed, he can't let it go until he knows for sure. He decides to read the next few lines, after flicking his eyes to the doorway to listen for your footsteps coming back from the kitchen.

...it was the same as all the others. Eddie was in my bed, and we were naked. His soft, warm lips were on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and his hands were everywhere. It felt so good, having him kiss me like that while he explored every inch of me. His fingers were carefully thrusting inside my pussy, making me so fucking wet. I could feel his dick pressing into my thigh, and I took him in my hand. The noise he made when I touched him was so beautiful, he sounded so breathless and needy for me...

Eddie knows he should stop. This is wrong. So, so wrong. These are your private thoughts, and he shouldn't be reading them. Even if they're making a tent form in his pants. His heart races in his chest, and he feels rather hot under the collar. His stomach twists with an uneasy mix of guilt and arousal. He lets out a shaky breath, once again weighing his options. Keep reading, or put the damn thing away and never, ever bring it up. He looks down the hall, wondering how much time he has left before you come back. Against his better judgment, he gives in to his desire for you. With eyes glued to your neat handwriting, he reads on.

...I could feel him grow in my hand, fuck, he was huge. I've seen it in real life before, and not entirely on accident. Since we're so close, we change in front of each other sometimes. And even though I've never seen it hard, I can tell his dick is big. It's even got a goddamn piercing on it, shining in the light like a lure. I swear to God, it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees and take him in my mouth whenever I see it...

Eddie scoffs loudly, unable to believe you've actually been checking him out. A part of him wonders if this is a sick joke, that you'd somehow known to leave this here for him to see. Any second now, you'll come busting in here and laugh in his face. Maybe even snap a picture of his embarrassingly large erection amd make copies to give all your friends.

But that's not you. You're too kind and sweet to him to ever pull such a cruel (and improbably elaborate) prank. Sure, he's wanted you for years. To call you his girl, to love you the way you should be loved. To kiss you, and hold you, and touch you in all the ways he thinks you'd like. To love you, and spoil you like the queen you are in his eyes. He's just never allowed himself to think you'd ever feel the same about him. Until now.

"What are you doing with that?" You ask softly, frozen in place in the doorway of your bedroom with a tray of snacks in your hands. Your eyes are blown wide, as you've come back to find Eddie on your bed, reading your diary, with a huge hard-on in his pants.

"I-I, I was, uh, just...um..." Eddie babbles helplessly, slamming the book shut and tossing it across the room. As if it being anywhere else will magically absolve him of invading your privacy. You just stare at him as he goes red in the face, and gestures with his hands as he fails to come up with an explanation. "...sorry." He says after letting out a long string of unintelligible sounds. He cringes at the word, realizing it's not nearly enough. But his mind and mouth can't come up with anything that doesn't sound like a feral goblin choking on a chicken bone.

"What part did you read?" You ask, your own cheeks turning a deep crimson. You really hope he didn't find your latest sex dream entry, but the glaring evidence in his jeans tells you that's exactly what he saw.

"Read? No, I was, um...j-just skimming..." He chuckles nervously, hoping you'll buy it. But the darkening blush on your skin and tears welling in your eyes lets him know he's truly caught. "Sweetheart, I—" Eddie starts, standing up as you're about to fall apart.

"Eddie, I swear, I-I didn't mean it! It was just a dream, and pfft! I was high when I wrote that!" You laugh uncontrollably as a way to hide your tears of embarrassment, frantically shaking your head. You've never been so mortified in your life, caught red handed in the worst way possible. You could've gone forever without ever letting him know how you feel. The potential rejection seemed too painful to endure. "I didn't mean it, Eddie. I didn't." Your laughter devolves into soft sobs, your grip loosening on the tray. Eddie catches it before everything tumbles to the floor, setting it on your dresser.

"Sweetheart, c'mere." Eddie takes your hands in his, and leads you over to your bed to sit beside him. You follow him, unable to do much else as tears stream down your face. "I'm sorry for snooping, angel. That wasn't right for me to do." He says sadly, stroking your soft skin with his thumbs. You nod in response. "And we can pretend this never happened, okay? Like you said, it was just a dream." He offers, his own words stabbing into his heart at the idea of never fully being with you the way he wants. But he doesn't feel like he's earned it. Not after making you so upset, and betraying your trust.

"Why did you read it?" You ask abruptly, more curious than angry. As humiliating as it is that he found you out before you could tell him yourself, you want to know how those secret words made him feel.

"I got bored, and curious. I found it in your drawer, thinking it was poetry or something. But then I found the entry of you dreaming about me..." Eddie trails off, pondering what to say next. "...and I got more curious."

"About what?" You continue, your tears drying up.

"About whether or not you want me the same way I want you." He boldly admits. He may as well, since your diary entries admitted your own wonderful, awful, heart-breaking, nerve-wracking secret to him. You don't say anything else, eyes blown wide in shock. "I want to be with you, princess. I've always wanted that." He says emphatically, making your heart swell as well as race.

"Really?" You ask, as if his erection earlier wasn't enough indication of his desire for you. You've dreamt about this moment so many times, spent numerous moments throughout the days and nights hoping one day he'd see you. You now stupidly realize, that there was never a time where he didn't.

"Yes, really. If you can forgive me for being a creep, that is." He says with a chuckle, making you giggle as well.

"Yeah, I think I can manage that." You smile, squeezing his hands with your own. "How far did you get anyway?" You ask curiously.

"Uh, right about where you talked about wanting to suck my massive, pierced cock." Eddie replies, moaning in an exaggerated way on his final words to tease you.

"Ugh, that's so embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face in shame.

"It's really not, babydoll. I'm just flattered that you noticed." He insists, pulling your hands down so he can see your pretty face again.

"I'll count myself lucky you didn't read any more." You giggle sheepishly, recalling how the rest of that dream went. You riding Eddie's cock while his large hand wraps tightly around your throat, filthy praises leaving his lips to spur you on. Him fucking you from behind, tugging your head back by your hair as he grunts and groans with every thrust. Among other equally explicit things.

"Shit, now I have to read the rest!" Eddie says impishly, diving off the bed to get the diary that still lays on the floor.

"Eddie, no! Please, it's too embarrassing!" You shriek, clamoring after him. But he's quicker than you, snatching up the book and holding it above your head. You try to jump up and tear it from his reach, but it's no use. He chuckles at your foolish attempts, slowly moving closer to you while still holding the diary above your heads. His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands meet his chest, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement. He gazes deep into your eyes with burning lust, a smirk plastered on his lips.

"Think of it this way, sweetheart. If I read the rest, I'll know exactly what we're doing tonight." He speaks seductively, in a way you've only heard in your dreams.

"This can't be happening." You scoff, convinced you somehow fell asleep before Eddie came over tonight.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I'm in love with you?" He asks, dropping the Casanova act for a second and tossing the diary on the bed. He cups your cheek, and leans in to kiss you. His plush lips meet yours, giving you a taste of sweet, beautiful reality.

"Mm." You grab hold of the sides of his face, deepening the kiss. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, drawing a quiet moan from you. Time seems to stop as your mouths move together as one, and joyful tears spring from your eyes. This is all you've ever wanted. To love Eddie, and to have him love you back.

He carefully leads you backwards to the bed, laying you down on top of it as he kneels above you. He pulls away, wiping the salty tracks from your face. He smiles warmly, admiring every last bit of you and saving it away to remember this forever. "Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, as if it's his dying wish.

"Please." You reply softly, giving him a nod.

"Perfect." He reaches over for the diary, finding his place as he lays down beside you. "Now...where were we?" He muses, eyes bugging out when he reads what comes next. "Christ, I picked a good night to be nosy." He turns his head to look at you, wearing a devilish grin unlike you've ever seen on him before. "I swear to god, I'm gonna make all your dreams come true, babydoll. Even if it takes all night." He purrs, before chucking the damned book away one last time and pouncing on you.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hot and Cold | Charles Leclerc

WC: 3K

Charles x gf!reader

Summery: "I can't do this anymore, I can't be everything to you one minute and then mean nothing to you the next." from my 1K celebration

Warning: angst, don’t think there’s anything else.

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Being a Formula 1 driver, isn't easy and it's a very demanding job. You know that and everyone that knows someone in F1 knows that. The sport takes a big toll on everyone involved, physically and mentally. You've seen what the pressure does to drivers. Charles, who you've been with for a long time is a testament to what it does to people.

The road to reaching F1 for Charles was long and hard and he lost so much on the way. There was so many sacrifices he had to make just to reach his destination and achieve his dream.

On track, the smell of burning rubber is strong and the air is filled with adrenaline. It was all familiar to you now. Charles was in his element there more than anywhere else. To everyone he's Charles Leclerc the prodigy, the hope to Ferrari, but beneath that helmet he's just a man juggling the weight of his dreams and the expectations.

Off track, as Charles's significant other, you try to be there for him as much as possible provide all the love he needs, to comfort him when he needs it, to be a stable constant in his life. Charles is a loving and attentive boyfriend, he always wants you to fly with him and be there with him. Whatever your needs are he always tries to meet them.

As the new season progressed though things have began to change, and at first it was just a bad race he'd be upset for a couple of days before he'd become normal again, but then his mood would stay down for longer and the moments when you two could be happy together became less and less. It was rare now to have a moment with Charles that's just the two of and filled with joy.

It was when Charles is home that you started to feel the distance between the two of you. Charles was home but his mind was a thousands miles away, caught in strategies, cars and lap times. As you watched you could see his brows furrowed in thought, his arms absently tapping the arm of the sofa, and a bang of longing twisted in your chest.

"Charles." You called gently trying to pull him back to you, to here, to now. Charles looked up, when his met yours, you can see reflecting exhaustion and something else you couldn't pinpoint. Guilt? Or was it the weight of the expectations?

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" He smiled oh so sweetly, and you returned his smile.

"I was saying if you're not feeling up to it we can cancel our reservation for dinner and go another time." You tell him and Charles takes a moment to answer, and that is telling enough for you, if he wanted to go he would've jumped at the idea of going and refused instantly. "It's alright my love, we can go another time."

"Can we? You won't be mad?" Charles asked and you gave him a reassuring smile.

"No I wouldn't." And you weren't mad, you were sad, you were really looking forwards to tonight, you bought a new outfit and had it all planned out. There was no other time to go, Charles is heading into a triple header and there was no time in between to do anything.

There was no late-night conversations, because Charles wanted to sleep to reenergize, there was no sharing dreams or thoughts, and you haven't been intimate in so long as well. Your heart ached on those night where Charles was sleeping next to you but it felt like he was so far away.

At one point he got you a gift with a hand written letter and you felt like the Charles you fell in love with is back, you were filled with hope. But then the next day he was back in his head, and distant. You're starting to feel like he's playing with your emotions.

Charles one day decided to take you out in Monaco to a café you haven't been to in a long time. You dressed for the occasion, dolled up. The walk to the café was a nice one, you walked hand in hand, talking and laughing. Once you reached the café, Charles got an email from Ferrari and like that he was gone, you ordered for the both of you, something that fit his diet so when you ate he wouldn't feel left out or tempted since he's been hard on himself when it came to the diet and the gym. The food and drinks came but he was still lost in his own world, taking a bite of your food, everything was tasteless, you wanted to spit out the food as your stomach churned. Putting the fork down you signalled to the waiter to bring the check all while Charles is still lost on his phone, he's been good at blocking everything when he's working these days, and he's been working a lot. You paid and he was still none the wiser.

Only when you stood up that he looked up from his phone.

“Amour?" He was confused, he looked around him and saw the now cold drink you ordered him and the bill on the table.

"I'm going home, don't worry about the bill, I paid, when you're done you can come home." You said with a smile and turned to leave.

"y/n, wait!" Charles scrambled to follow you, he walked out after you. Charles jogged until he was behind you, he held your arm to stop you from walking, and as he opened his mouth to speak his phone rang. He glanced at it and bit his lip. He had no idea what to do now. You laughed dryly.

“Just answer." Charles didn't put up a fight and you slipped out of his hold, but you didn't go home, you weren't in the mood. So you walked around the city, enjoying the good weather.

"y/n!" Someone called your name and for a split second you hoped, you hoped it would be Charles, but you recognized that voice. You turn and smile, a fake smile, your heart started beating in your chest as your emotions started to get to you and you fought them.

"Max, hey." You greeted the RedBull driver, you've been dating Charles long enough to be on good terms with the other drivers and their girlfriends. "Kelly, how are you?"

"We're good, how are you?" Kelly asks and you both hug and press your cheeks together in greeting.

"I'm, I'm good." You nod and then bite your lip, Kelly didn't believe you and frankly neither did Max and out of the two he knows you least.

"We were just going back home, if you're not doing anything, maybe you'd want to come over?" Kelly asked and you looked at the couple and gave them the smallest smile you could master.

"No, I don't want to intrude." You say and shake your head no.

"Where's Charles?" Max asks and Kelly hits his chest softly and glared at her boyfriend. Max was a bit confused. Kelly watched your expression, you smiled before your brows wavered and your lips trembled.

"Oh honey." Kelly pulls you in for a hug. Kelly holds you for a few minutes while you calm down, once you did the couple took you back to their home.

Sitting in their living room, you just broke down and told them what's been going on. Your phone started ringing half way through and blowing up with texts from Charles, all going unanswered. The couple were baffled with what you said, to everyone you always looked like the perfect couple, the envy of everyone. Yet, here you are crying your eyes out because your boyfriend has been ignoring you for the better part of the year.

You spent the night at the Verstappen-piquet household before you decided to head back home.

"Are you sure?" Max asked as he walked you to the door.

"Yes, thank you, I'll be fine." You reassured him, and with a quick hug you left. It didn't take long for you to reach your shared house with Charles, when you walked in you heard hurried movements before Charles appeared in front of you.

"Oh mon amour, I was so scared." He did look stressed, you sighed and closed the door lightly, your moves were slow, you took off your shoes and dropped off your bag on the table by the entrance before you turned to look at Charles, it's apparent you both didn't sleep well. You knew Charles had work today, that's why you went out yesterday, but he was dressed in sweatpants and a random shirt, a stay at home outfit.

"We need to talk." You said, your voice tight, struggling to contain the emotions that threatened to spill over. You had given Charles so much time and space in hope that with time he'd find his way back to you, that the coldness in him will thaw and melt, but the moments when you think it happened aren't enough, they're rare and far between.

"Look, if it's about yesterday, I'm so sorry, I should've-" Charles started before you cut him off.

"No, we need to talk about us." You said your voice trembling ever so slightly, you both move to the living room and you sit across from Charles. When you first started dating and until a year ago, you've never sat apart on any sofa, in any room, but it's becoming familiar now. "We need to talk about how we've been struggling lately, our relationship is drowning."

"Drowning? y/n, amour, yesterday I just had an important email and then call about work." Charles tried to explain but it just made you more sure that this conversation had to be had.

"And last week?" Charles frowns thinking about last week, you had planned to go out with your friends, but he bailed last minute to stay home and get on the sim, so you went alone. "And last month? My mum's birthday? Our anniversary?"

"A-Amour, I didn't realise I've been under alot of pressure, you know that." Charles sighed, the sound was heavy and weary, he couldn't meet your eyes, he knows he missed up big time. "The season is in full swing, and I need to focus." "Charles, we've been like that since last year, I only had you for a part of the winter break before you were back at work." You frown, trying to make him realise for how long he's been like this, and you've tried to be understanding, to be by his side and take it. "What about me? Do I not matter to you anymore? Does our relationship mean so little to you?"

"No, it's not like that." He said rubbing his temples. "I'm just... I'm trying to keep up with everything."

"Everything but us." You said your voice gaining an edge as you started feeling angry.

"I... I didn't realise," He stammered, standing up and taking a step towards you, you stood up but took a step back, you didn't want him near you, to touch you, if he did, you'll give up. It hurt him seeing you step away from him, but knows he deserved it. "I'm Sorry, I've neem so caught up with everything, I didn't see what I was doing to you."

"Caught up?" You repeated, the anger in your voice apparent, but your next words took a turn as your voice trembled. "You've been so focused on your career, on your races, that you've forgotten what's really important, I've been right here, waiting, hoping for the old Charles-my Charles-to come back, but all I got are those glimpses and small moments."

Charles' shoulders sagged, he ran a hand though his hair and his eyes filled with pain and regret. "I never meant to hurt you, I just thought that... I thought I could handle it all, I thought you understood."

"I did understand, I do." You said and the tears you've been fighting welled

up in your eyes. "But understanding doesn't mean I can endure this forever. I need you, Charles. I need you to be here, really here and not just you on the phone or in the sim room."

Charles wanted to promise you that he'll be better, but he's scared to make a promise that he may not be able to keep. You knew Charles well enough to know what's going on in his mind, and so the tears escaped and you smiled, it was a painful smile teary and hurtful.

"I can't do this anymore, Charles." You said and you tried to stop the tears from flowing, it's starting to dawn on him what your next words will be. "I can't mean everything to you one minute and then mean nothing to you the next."

"Amour." Charles sounded broken, he loves you and you know that, but sometimes love isn't enough. You've chosen Charles so many times but you have to choose yourself right now, you have to, or this relationship will drain you out. You walk around Charles and head to your shared bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you, you take out your suitcase, and pack your essentials, what you'd need for a week, knowing Charles will be out of the house for a race after that.

When you walked out after you were finished, you saw Charles siting on the sofa looking miserable, you left the suitcase by the door and walked up to Charles. He looked up at you and glanced at the bag behind you. this is it, you're leaving him and he deserved it. He looked broken and it took everything in you not to go back on your decision. You opened your arms and Charles walked in to your hug, he was heavy in your arms. You both held each other for a long while, this may be the last hug you share. No matter what happened there's still so much love that you have for each other making this more painful.

"I'm so sorry amour." Charles muttered in your ear and you ran your hand through his hair and sighed =

"I know, my love, I know." You say back and pull back, you try to give him a small smile. Your hand was on his cheek as you rubbed it, feeling him for the last time. Charles's arms on your waist tightened, he didn't want to let you go. "I'll see you around

Charles."

That was his que to let you go, you kissed his cheek just next to his lips and his hands flexed before he let go. You walked out of his arms. You opened the front door and rolled out your bag before you closed the door you looked at Charles, who was frozen.

"I'll still wear red on the weekends, I'll cheer you on, no matter what." You hesitated before you said. "I love you Charles, please don't make this hard on yourself and don't pressure yourself, I'm choosing myself, so you choose yourself too."

With that you closed the door after you and left.

Being without Charles has been hard, you’ve been together for so long. Even if he’s been distant before you broke it off, you’d always be finding yourself wanting to text or call him. You found an apartment in Nice that you rented until you know what your next steps will be like. Your life has been intertwined so much with Charles’ that it was hard to untangle it. There was this constant ache in your heart.

Charles, on the other hand, was a man undone. The realisation of what he had lost hit him with the force of a speeding car. He threw himself more into his races, each victory a hollow echo of what he truly wanted, his ups aren’t so satisfying now. It wasn’t the podiums that filled his thoughts; it was you, the person who had been his anchor and his heart.

And so one evening, as the sun started to set, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Charles standing there, his eyes red-rimmed and weary, a man who had been through his own kind of race, one that he desperately hoped would end with you.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance.” He began, his voice raw with emotion as he didn’t give you a chance to say anything, he was scared you’d slam the door in his face. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I’ve realised that without you, none of this means anything. The races, the wins, they’re all empty without you. Please, give me one more chance. I promise, I’ll be the man you need, the man you deserve.”

You stood there, heart pounding, torn between the pain of the past and the love you still felt for him. You saw the sincerity in his eyes, the desperation of a man who had finally realised what truly mattered.

“I still love you, Charles.” You said softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “But I can’t go through this again. You need to prove to me that things will be different, that you’ll be there, really there.”

“I will.” He said, taking your hands in his, his touch warm and familiar. “I swear to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just give me the chance to show you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the man you had fallen in love with, the man who had been lost but now stood before you, pleading for a second chance. With a deep breath, you nodded, a tentative smile breaking through the tears.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “One more chance.”

And as the sun set, bathing the city in a warm, forgiving light, you stepped back into the arms of the man who had found his way back to you, ready to start anew and rebuild the love that had once seemed lost forever.

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THINGS THEY DO TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU

synopsis: they can't apologize like normal human beings, so they do their quirky acts to make you forgive them

characters: sanji (shocker), zoro & luffy!

warnings: swearing, (unintentional) angst for luffy..

a/n: my new hobby is making cute character banners oops 🫢 banner inspired by @sixosix <3! happy ending for luffy here !!

☆ whenever you and SANJI have had a fight or disagreement of any sort, he folds first. he is always the first one to give the 'cold-shoulder' act up.

☆ usually, he wouldn't ever stop talking about how much he loves you and how absolutely drop-dead gorgeous you are, but the moment he should talk about all that, he doesn't.

☆ he knows he fucked up.. but he can't bring himself to charm you up like usual.. so- he decides to bake his way out of this problem!

☆ your favorite cake, fruits, drinks, chocolate, and anything you ever mentioned to enjoy will be made and presented to you by your truly apologetic sanji <3

☆ he'd be standing in the kitchen for hours on end. not taking a break because he feels like it's 'his responsibility' to make you forgive him the hard way.

☆ eventually, after being presented more than a month's worth of desserts.. you got worried about the state your charming blonde lover was in.

"not that i forgot our fight.. but you should take a break, sanji.. you've been overworking yourself since this morning!" you tell him, trying your hardest not to sound worried. he gives you an exhausted smile, dropping the cutlery he had in his one hand and the spatula he had in the other one. "you talked to me," he spoke, barely louder than a whisper, before he let out a sigh of relief.

you felt your heart ache, seeing him in his current condition; sweat dripping from his forehead, hands cramped up from all the work he had done, and his apron splattered with a mixture of flower and melted chocolate.

your eyes met his almost immediately, which resulted in him instinctively noticing your sorrowful eyes. "what's wrong, darling? you alright?" he dusts his hands off with the kitchen towel before making his way to you swiftly. "my love why are you giving me your sad puppy eyes right now?" he chuckles as he cups your face in his cold hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"because you overworked yourself because of me.. your hands are all cramped up because i was too stubborn to forgive you right away! i don't deserve you sanji.." he gasps, almost offended. "now that is the bullest crap i've ever heard. darling, i've gone way longer with way more pressure on me to complete dishes for a full-house back at baratie." he chuckles yet again, this time more relaxed. "what i did today was a mere exercise to make sure i was still able to perform under some pressure," a big smile growing on his face.

"sweetheart, if anything i don't deserve you.. i'm sorry for upsetting you earlier.. i was deep in the wrong, yet i'm only apologizing now. forgive me, my love." sanji gives kisses your forehead while grabbing your hands, interlocking them with his. "then let's say we're even now.." you two make up and after forcing sanji to let you help clean up the kitchen, you do just that.

☆ sanji tells you he won't 'bake his way out of a fight' anymore, but knowing him, you didn't believe that statement one bit. you told him to "just make sure you don't overwork yourself anymore.. wouldn't want your pretty hands to hurt.." ~ which ended with him teasing you the whole afternoon.. "you think i have pretty hands~? how very endearing, my love."

☆ now anytime you and ZORO fight, with him being in the wrong, his pride always gets in the way of him owning up to his shit and apologizing. that's all you need from him, an apology. you don't expect him to bake you desserts or write you a poem declaring his live for you, no you just want an apology that isn't forced out of zoro by sanji or nami, or even usopp!

☆ you ignore him because he messed up big time and won't even acknowledge it? ha, child's play, he ignores you. you don't even know how this petty fight escalated so far that both of you haven't talked for a good couple days.

☆ usopp is basically begging you two to make up. considering he had been forced given the role to communicate things between the two of you. zoro needed to clean his sword but didn't know which cleaning agent to use, because you always gave him the right cleaning agent? ⟶ usopp is sent to you asking you which cleaning agent is best to clean zoro's swords with. receiving the dirtiest glance from you, you tell him to tell zoro "he should pay attention more to what others say, instead of staring at his reflection off of his sword 24/7!" ⟶ usopp goes to zoro and delivers the message. zoro scoffs and chuckles lightly before angrily giving usopp yet another message to deliver to you. ⟶ after a while usopp started hiding from the both of you, not wanting to get sent to other anymore.

☆ nami is on your side, of course, sending dirty glances to zoro any chance she gets. she doesn't give him the silent treatment, but instead aggressively tries to let him acknowledge his faults so he could own up to his shit and just apologize!

"y'know zoro, i'm not even in this relationship, yet your ego still somehow found a way to suffocate me! fucking realize you've been acting like a child and just own up to the fact that you messed up, damn it." nami blurts out, all in one breath, before she walks off annoyed.

zoro let's out yet another scuff before sanji makes his way to the moss head. "don't you even start-" zoro sends him an angry glance which has sanji raising his hands in defense, chuckling slightly. "i just can't stand seeing my beloved y/n in distress like this. i don't know the details, i don't want to know the details. all i know is that if you don't want to lose her, i'd act fast if i were you.." he just as quickly turned away and resumed his kitchen activities.

out of all the things the crew told him, hoping to convince the stubborn moss head to apologize to you, this stuck with him for the rest of the day.

after having a rather silent diner with the crew, the same as the past few days, you finished first, leaving the table immediately. "thank you, sanji, the soup was delicious, as expected," you tried to smile at him which resulted in your lips becoming a wobbly line.

"anytime, darling, i'm glad you enjoyed.." sanji noticed your sorrowful expression, as did the rest of the crew. you sent him a forced smile again before leaving the kitchen, heading for your and nami's room.

zoro sighed before standing up from his spot, leaving the kitchen to follow you. reaching your room's door, he notices you locked it. "hey! open the door," zoro leans against the handle, his forehead against the door. "come on now, just open the door for me baby.." his voice softens, realizing how fucking stupid he's been acting, neglecting you in so many ways. "listen.. i'm sorry for being such an ass- you didn't deserve my shitty attitude, i shouldn't have acted so stubborn, i'm sorry. i- i just can't lose you okay? please open the door and talk to me, yell at me, scream your lungs out, just please let me see you baby.. " with that he balled his hand that was leaning on the door into a fist, remorse dripping out of his mouth as he finally realizes how wrong he has been acting, how bad he's been treating you, how much more you deserved.

what surprised him was that the moment you opened the door, you weren't carrying an annoyed expression. no, your eyes were teary, your upper lip was trembling, cheeks a red shade, and your eyebrows furrowed. "h-hey, don't cry now.." zoro wrapped his arms around you, whispering endearments into your ear whilst caressing your back.

you two ended up cuddling on you small framed bed, that barely kept the two of you on it. not a word communicated between the two of you. just you laying on his chest, playing with his fingers while his chin rests on top of your head, still caressing your back.

"i'll do better for you.." zoro breaks the silent, planting a kiss on your head. "i can't lose you, i won't lose you.." you look up at his last statement, putting your hand on his cheek. "you won't lose me.. you'll never lose me."

☆ yeah, fights with this man sure are extreme.. but you two make it work

☆ every once in a while, on a full moon, you and LUFFY experience a disagreement lead to a big fight. of course your relationship isn't always all rainbows and butterflies. but considering luffy's nature of not taking most things serious, lots of fights were prevented. you thought luffy was flirting with a waitress when you left? he laughed so hard, getting cramps in his stomach, because he thought it was the most stupid thing ever that you believed he would flirt with someone other than you. he made you feel ridiculous, thinking of such a thing! ⟶ fight prevented!

☆but sometimes, this very nature of his was what lead to some of the most dreadful moments of your life.

☆ anytime such an event would take place, luffy would be the furthest away from it, the furthest away from you.. it's not that he's angry at you, per se. he just needs his time alone to review all his actions leading up to the fight that may have caused for it to get this big. most of the time he'll be dozing off, too tired to look back on his actions. he doesn't even know himself why he always ends up avoiding you for a couple hours after a fight. all he knows is that he, somehow, always ends up understanding what went wrong between the two of you.

☆ but this routine action of his doesn't always receive a positive reaction from you..

there he went, yet again, neglecting his responsibility in this fight. it was petty, you knew it was, still you wanted him to own up to it! it wasn't fair that he'd leave you shaking, crying, screaming at the top of your lungs, out of nowhere. you were talking, well actually arguing, about how luffy had been avoiding you lately, how he'd turn around once he'd see you, sit at the other side of the table, leave the room the second he saw you enter it, but what hurt the most was that he'd shake off your touches..

you finally confronted him about this, not wanting to bottle up your emotions any longer. luffy reacted as usual, disregarding the issue jokingly, he assured, "it's not a big deal~ you're just seeing things." and then you snapped, everything you bottled up 'till this moment, unleashed. you were a sobbing mess. he had never seen you in this state, shit even you have never seen yourself like this.

you asked him what happened, what you did wrongfully. why was he ignoring you? why did he act like he was allergic to your touches, your voice, your conversations, to you? why all of a sudden? what changed between you? you wanted, no, needed him to answer; you hoped he would realize how stupid he was acting, how neglecting he had been. you needed him to take you in his arms and assure you he still loved you, that he still cared, that he always will..

as if all your sobs were disregarded. instead of talking to you, he stood up wordlessly and walked out of your room, gently closing the door behind him. which resulted in your cries escalating as you tried muffling your sounds with a pillow.

where did he go? why did he leave all of a sudden? does he not care about you? all of these thoughts were racing in your mind, overwhelming you to the point you were gasping for air. at this point, nami came sprinting to your shared room, worried about your condition. "what did that boy do?!" she questions with a mix of distress and anger.

all the while, luffy was sat on the figurehead of the going merry, the sheep. he was enjoying the cold breeze as he kept breathing in and out, trying to understand what had just happened. he soon realized he walked out on you the moment you needed him most. and oh how it should've hurt him, how his heart should be aching right now. instead, he feels nothing except the subtle chilly breeze flowing against his skin, through his hair, moving his flip-flops. he knows he should care, he knows he should run back to you, embrace you in his arms, and tell you he loves you. but he doesn't because as much as he wants you to feel loved and cared for, he can't be the one to make you feel that way. it's not fair to you, you deserve someone that means it when he tells you he loves you and always will be there for you.

he can't put on this facade anymore. he stopped caring a while back, but he believed it to be a decent thing to have you believe he was still the guy that would comfort you when you had a nightmare, the guy that would give you his last piece of meat to show you he cares, the guy that would cuddle you to sleep whenever it was too cold..

he thought it'd be easier for you. oh, how it turned out to be quite the opposite. because he faked your relationship this long, and it had come to an end like this; you didn't only lose your lover tonight, you lost your friend.

MEI'S NOTE: uhm.. yeah idk what happened at luffy's part- but I hope you enjoyed ☺️💓