#but do anyway to keep face for the people who look up to you. who depend on you

[nanenna]

Jeez Louise This is a Mess

Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post

Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.

---

John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.

John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”

Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”

“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.

“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”

Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.

The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.

“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.

“You would think so.”

The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…

“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”

“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.

“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”

“Will that work?”

“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”

Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.

Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”

“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”

“You don't know who I am?”

“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”

“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”

“Then what do they call you?”

“How about you tell me your name first?”

“I’m Deadman.”

The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”

“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.

“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”

The Fentons all shook their heads.

The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”

“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”

“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”

Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.

It did… well not much.

Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.

Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”

John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?

“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.

“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”

And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.

“What did you do?!”

“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”

“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.

Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.

Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.

“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.

The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.

John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”

The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”

For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.

Everyone was staring at the display.

“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.

“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.

“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”

“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”

“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”

“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.

“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”

And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”

“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.

“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.

“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.

“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.

“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”

“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.

“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”

Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.

[rosewaterandivy]

vena amoris

Summary: some part of me must have died / the first time that you called me “Baby”

Pairing: s.h. x reader

W.C.: 2.5K

Themes: the usual— repressed feelings, smut mentions, Cabaret quotes, Steve ‘down bad’ Harrington™️

A/N: well ahoy there! Did I take a mental health day and brain rot this into being? You bet! Title is Latin for “the vein of love.”

“Oh god,” You’d remarked, with a knowing smirk and lifted brow. “Can you imagine?”

Your tone brokered no argument. It wasn’t a whimsical, starry-eyed, sigh filled statement coming from a naive girl.

No, instead it was a wry, flippant remark laden with sarcasm and pity as the woman by the college green gleefully sobbed out a yes, yes, of course! to a polite smattering of applause as her newly minted fiancé slipped a sparkling band onto her finger.

“And on graduation day, no less.” You bat away the few hairs that had flown into your face buoyed by the summer breeze, your graduation gown fluttering about your legs. “Damn my guy, let the woman have her moment jeez.”

Steve struggled to laugh and maintain composure, because the thing was, he actually could imagine it, and had even done so himself from time to time. The time honored predicament of “keeping it casual” while remaining friends.

He remembers it clear as day, how you’d met in front of the dining hall as he’d overslept (again) and rushed to shove his pockets full of cereal before his morning lecture so as to not fall asleep during Macroeconomics.

”Hey, Buck-o!” You’d crowed from the table riddled with pens, to-go coffee cups, and clipboards, “Are you registered to vote?”

All he can remember thinking, after the pre-requisite it’s too damn early for this was the ever eloquent, well, fuck me.

Nevermind that you were wearing a Reagan Ruined Everything shirt accompanied by the flaming visage of the man. Nevermind that your friend merely snorted at your bombastic accosting of students for the sake of democracy. Nevermind that several people had shoulder checked him in their rush to get waffles and coffee.

”Ritchie Rich,” You’d said with a smile, “Voting solely for your interests or ready to join the proletariat with the rest of us?”

It was an unlikely friendship, to say the least. You, a blue-blood former ballet dancer until “my tits grew in” majoring in poli-sci and him, the sole progeny of a captain of industry on the ivy-league to corporate office pipeline.

So, it really was inevitable that you’d fall into bed together. Even without your grandparents wheedling and match-making attempts. But still, you weren’t dating— he wasn’t that kind of guy and you weren’t even interested in a relationship anyway.

It was sex and friendship, that was all.

Argento movie marathons because it was “a crime you’ve never seen something outside of a cineplex, Harrington,” underneath mountains of a goose-down duvet. Trips to the Cape just to pass the time, M&M’s riddling the hardwood floors in front of a roaring fire with his head between your thighs. Dragging him out on cold autumn mornings to canvass for local elections. Late nights where you’d pass out in front of the flickering tv screen after watching Bitter Rice.

Sure, Robin side-eyed the entire situation and Dustin never failed to remind him how much of an idiot Steve was being. But, in fairness, it was never something that struck either of you as odd.

It was college, people do weirder and more detrimental shit all the time without the evergreen excuse of misguided youth. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Eddie was the one to ruin it all.

“Dude,” He’d said, surprisingly serious as he loaded up his bike for the drive back to New York. “Not for nothin, but if I were you Harrington,” He inclined his head toward where you were at the coffee cart. “I’d lock that shit down.”

”Whaddya mean? We’re just friends.”

“Sure buddy,” Eddie laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

But did he really think about it after that? Of course not, just continued to careen toward graduation and the inevitable.

He was destined for great things, according to his father: continuing the family legacy and filling the coffers, working abroad in Europe for year post-grad and securing those overseas accounts.

So when he wasn’t suffering through mind-numbing lectures, and being at dear old dad’s beck and call, Steve was doing what he did best: wilding with the gang or hanging out with you.

Which mostly resulted in fucking at increasingly creative locations at your place or his, but he digresses.

His graduation was uneventful— his father sternly nodded his approval while his mother posed them like dolls for a family photo. They’d drug him to a prolonged who’s who of his father’s connections under the guise of a celebration dinner, to which none of his friends had been invited.

Steve had schlepped himself back to the apartment, less drunk than he would’ve preferred given the circumstances. Only to be greeted by you at the door, in one of your more creative get-ups consisting of a 1920’s boudoir set with stockings.

Plum-painted lips split like a ripe fruit, white pearly teeth gleamed in the dim hallway light. And his heart nearly beat its way out of his chest.

“Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome,” You gently kick the door of his apartment the rest of the way open to reveal people packed to the brim inside— Robin, Dustin, Eddie.

“Fremde, étrange, stranger.”

Because of course you’d throw him a going away party, themed no less (“Cabaret only seemed appropriate since you’re Berlin-bound come morning,”). The drinks are flowing and the music is thumping and all he wants to do is kiss you, so he does.

And the world doesn’t cease to turn, the music doesn’t stop, his friends don’t give a damn. No one is shocked by this turn of events, not even the elusive ex of Stanford fame Nancy Wheeler.

Because if there’s one thing that everyone knows, well everyone excluding you because if you somehow caught on to him Steve might actually drop dead right then and there—

What everyone knew was this: Steve Harrington was not and had never been a casual guy.

He heard Eddie mumble something about Sisyphus into his drink before pulling him off of you. Your lipstick was smeared and a little patchy now, but he sure as shit didn’t care, his own mouth was probably branded now too, bruise-colored as if he’d bitten into an overripe stone fruit.

A big deal is made about getting the King a drink, as Eddie all but frog marches Steve to the bar.

“So,” He greets, clapping him on the back, “You’re down bad.”

Steve nearly chokes on the beer, the frothy foam ticking at his nose. He swallows past his heart lodged in his throat, and shakes his head.

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell that to your mouth, Liza,” He sweeps a thumb against Steve’s bottom lip, it comes back riddled in purple lipstick. “You know you leave tomorrow, right?”

Steve turns back to the bar and signals for a shot of something, anything really. He sips at his beer in the interim, letting Eddie’s declaration linger in the air between them.

They drink in silence until Robin stumbles in, dragging Steve away claiming “besties before the resties!”

He spies you and Dustin chatting nearby, you catch his eye with a lascivious and exaggerated wink before throwing your head back in laughter at something the dingus had said.

The party rages on for hours— he’s already packed and ready to go for his flight tomorrow, and he knows you’d put a lot of effort into this send off, but Steve would like nothing more than to wrap himself around you and fall into bed. Eventually someone catches onto this and alerts the guests that they “don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!”

Steve doesn’t know who to thank for that, Nancy maybe. He’ll figure it out later. At that moment, he was more concerned with getting those glasses out of your hands and that garter belt on the floor.

“Hey, you okay?” You’d asked in the early morning light, watching as he stumbled into his pants and threw on a shirt.

Your face was freshly scrubbed of your makeup from last night, soft and open as your eyes trailed him from your spot in his bed.

He was a weak, weak man when he’d sat down with a sigh and asked, “Tell me not to go?”

He can hear you shuffle across the bed, can feel the warmth of your body as it drapes against his back.

“Tell me not go to,” Steve continues, “Tell me to blow off my dad, the Harrington destiny, tell me to fuck it all and that I can figure something else out.”

You nose along the column of his throat, lips settling at the nape of his neck. His hand finds its way to yours, arms wrapped against his shoulders, fingers dancing along his collarbone. He links a solitary finger with yours crooking into each other like monkeys in a barrel.

“Oh babe,” You sigh, the pet name rolling prettily off your tongue, “You know I won’t do that, as much as I would delight in smearing the Harrington name.”

You grip him all the tighter.

“You have a plane to catch and a life to start. A life you were dragged kicking and screaming into but you know what?”

“What?”

“The only way out is through, Steve.” You rest your head on his shoulder, continuing, “The changes you want to make? Well, it’s your life so make them. Who’s going to stop you? You’re a blue-blood white man in a world built to serve people like you.”

“Are you going to lecture me about the patriarchy? Because it’s too early for that—"

“I’ll spare you, just this once.” You tease, “But no, I’m just saying that you have options and it’s a year away from your father. Take advantage of it.”

Steve knows you mean well, that you’re trying to put a positive spin on his departure but still, it hurts.

He stands back up with what he hopes is a believable smile on his face. He expects to see you settled back in the sheets when he turns around, not hopping on one leg as you attempt to jam your foot into your Vans with one hand, while clawing into a bra with the other. Somehow, you’re already in sweatpants.

He can barely restrain his laugh, “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, accompanying you to the airport, duh.”

And if his heart wasn’t already broken, surely this would’ve been the nail in the coffin.

“No, don’t get up.”

“Too late for that.”

“My bags are already in the car,” He tries again, trailing after you from the bedroom to the kitchen.

“Great! Do we have time for coffee?”

“No, seriously,” Steve catches your hand before it can land on the doorknob, tugging you back from the door.

“But,” Your voice has lost its joking tone and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. “I have to say goodbye. I have to wave at you from the gate.”

“They won’t let you past security.”

“Then I’ll wave from there,” You say with a sniff, blinking the tears from your eyes. “I have to go, please.”

Steve, in that moment, chooses to glance up at the rafters of his loft apartment in an effort to keep his emotions in check. So he misses how greedily your eyes take him in, as if it’s for the last time, how you’re biting your lip so hard as to draw blood.

And by the time he looks back down again, you’ve found a spot on the floor to stare steadily at.

“Hey,” He says, curling a finger under your chin prompting you to glance up. Steve gives you a watery smile at best before imploring, “I need you to listen to me, please.”

He waits for your nod of assent before continuing.

“Everything is all set— I’ve paid the rent on the apartment for the next year, so you don’t have to worry about that. I know you won’t use the car service, but there’s a few more weeks left on that too, so.”

Your face falls with the finality of it all. That Steve is actually leaving, that he’ll be in Europe for the next year “growing up” as his father intended. And that maybe you should’ve done more to help him want to stay.

“There’s a ticket for you on the counter for after midterms, I’ll meet you in London and we can do whatever you want, just like we agreed.”

You nod quickly and take a short breath. He kisses you on the forehead and promises to call once he lands.

As his hand twists open the door, you blurt out:

“Please don’t do this. Let me come with you to the airport. You’re going to be gone for so long and—"

“Baby.”

And you know he’s serious because that diminutive is solely reserved for when you’re at least two orgasms deep and he’s got your knees up by your ears. Sweat-slick and ruddy-mouthed, your whole world narrowed to focus on him, desperate longing veiled by throes of passion.

Steve doesn’t even turn back, and you can hear how his voice shakes. “If you go with me, I won’t get on the plane.”

Your arm drops from where you’d reached after him, hadn’t even registered the action as you did it.

In a small, guilty voice you say, “I know.”

The muscles of his back feather as he sighs, his grip on the doorknob knuckle-white. He knows you can’t really mean it, that it’s the scared, vulnerable part of you stumbling as you offer him an olive branch; a way out.

In the end, he got on the plane anyway.

Smash-cut to a year later, the same college green but this time it’s not him in the graduation cap and gown. Steve took the week off for your graduation festivities, flew back into Logan then rented a car for the drive to Cambridge. Made nice with your parents and grandparents, shook your grandfather’s hand politely when he’d said that Steve was a “fine boy from a fine family,” and tried in vain to forget the fact that this is the same man who’d learned his granddaughter was sexually active with him, mind you, in front of no less than a missionary, a minister, and a rabbi.

But all of that is neither here nor there, as you clap politely for the newly engaged couple, pinning your mortarboard beneath your elbow. And because he knows you, Steve catches your eye roll sequence, surely at the audacity of That Man who proposed on his girlfriend's graduation day, from Harvard no less.

He snatches the satin covered cardboard from you, and throws an arm around your shoulders walking you toward the rager of a graduation party Eddie was throwing at your apartment.

“I know,” He says conspiratorially, relishing as you lean into him. “God forbid a woman do anything.”

Your laugh is a good distraction for him, something loud and joyful to focus on as the ring box in his left pocket sinks like a stone.

[coichii]

SUNFLOWER - HAN

pairing - spiderman!bf!han ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: angst & comfort

word count: 1.8k

warnings: cursing, reader thinks Han died, shitty writing that I thought was good at first

summary : Han led a double life, being your loveable boyfriend to Spiderman in the blank of an eye, obviously always putting himself in harms way for the sake of Brooklyn. You knew this about him, doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare you to death whenever he gets hurt.

A tap on the window stops your thoughts.

It’s 10pm on a Tuesday, so a knock on the window of your 7 floor apartment building in the middle of a dangerous city isn’t very, well, welcoming.

Carefully, you stand up, not failing to grab the hard baseball bat laying in you closet for moments like these.

Slowly and quietly, you make your way to the window, opening it and putting your weapon into batting position before your eyes lock onto the man behind the glass.

“Woah woah, baby. It’s just me.” Han defends, holding his arms in the air as if he had just been wrongly convicted. “Why do you have the bat.”

“Damnit Hannie! How many times have I told you to stop doing that!” You huff out, dropping the baseball bat out your hands as he chuckles and climbs in.

“Hey, honey~.” He teases in a sing song voice, wrapping his arms around your torso after closing the window. You can feel the warmth of his body, but you’re still upset.

“I’m going to seriously hit you if you keep doing that.” You pout, turning your head from him in fake anger; it’s hard to be mad at him for long.

“Don’t worry, cutie. It won’t hurt anyways.” He winks, causing an even deeper pout to form on your lips.

“Hmm, you still upset? Lemme kiss that pout off your lips then.” He grins, then he’s kissing you.

It’s sweet and slow, saying words lips can’t. His hands move from around your torso to your waist, giving the flesh a tight squeeze. You love kisses like these with him so much that you can almost forget what you had seen on tv earlier in the day.

Keyword : almost

A highly wanted criminal had escaped the prison early in the morning, and Han— well, SpiderMan was tasked with stopping him, which he didn’t.

They had ran into eachother near the Brooklyn Museum, and things escalated from there. Spiderman was injured slightly, and while you know that he heals fast, knowing exactly who was under that costume made your heart ache every time he got so much as a scratch on his body.

You pull away slowly, and Han furrows his brows. “Baby, are you still hurt?”

He bites his lip, the look in his eyes turning almost somber. He doesn’t like when you worry about him, not because he doesn’t like the attention, but because it makes him feel guilty.

Sometimes he wishes he could take all the worry you have about him and bury it far away, but he knows that for as long as he wears that suit, you’ll be worried about him.

“I’m fine, y/n. Don’t worry about me, okay?” He consoles, giving you one last peck on the lips. “Why don’t you get some sleep while I finish some paperwork work, hmm, bubs? It’s late.”

You frown at this, studying the look on his face intensely before you move away and sigh.

“Okay. You’ll be in bed soon though right?” You look up at him, and he can’t help but put his smile back on his face.

“In no more than an hour, hun.” He assures, moving towards the bathroom to take a quick shower before starting. “I won’t be long”

You make your way to the one bedroom in your shared apartment, mind still caught up in the events of the day.

You knew that the one who had escaped was very dangerous and had hurt hundreds of people before he was finally locked up for good. The fact that he was now free formed an aura of uneasiness around you and the entirety of New York City, and it was evident.

The streets were quieter; a horrible sign in the city that never seems to sleep. You could feel it in the air that everyone was on high alert, including your boyfriend.

The paper work he was doing? All of it was connected to him. He was a serious threat, and it was scaring you. The last thing you wanted was for Han to get seriously injured.

It’s happened once before when you guys had already been dating for a while, right around the time he told you that he was Spiderman.

He got beat up pretty brutally, and it had struck a fear in you that you hadn’t even known existed.

The fear of losing him.

That night when he returned, you held on to him and cried for hours. He desperately tried to comfort you, running his hands across your back and telling you he was fine.

Even if he was though, you’d still worry about him.

How could you not.

◂—♥︎—▸

It’s 5pm now, and you had just got off of work.

As you walk through the city, the feelings of brisk, autumn air soothing you, you realize it’s been too quiet. Even quieter than it had been yesterday.

You hadn’t been on your phone since it’s muted during your work hours, and you like to keep it that way until you get to your apartment, but you’re starting to think you should check it.

Nevertheless, you keep your regular pattern, walking until you reach the familiar building and door, walking in.

The anxiety is still eating at you, so you’re not surprised when you find your self turning on your TV and going to your local news station.

What does surprise you though, is when you see a live video of Spiderman laying on the harsh concrete clutching his side.

The air leaves your lungs, being filled with something else. Something thin, something dreadful.

It’s fear.

Your fearful eyes are glued to the screen. You want to look away, but it’s as if there’s an invisible force forcing you to stare at the TV.

It’s your worst fear broadcasted on live television, and there’s nothing you can do about it. All you can do is let the tears roll pitifully down your cheeks as the reports ramble on and on about his health, but you don’t want to listen. All you can do is pray.

Pray that those days where he held you weren’t going to come to an end. Pray that the times where he would swoop you up and take you to the roof of various buildings wouldn’t come to a close. Pray that even while it pissed you off, he would still be crawling through that window in your bedroom at the dead of night. That’s all you needed.

Him.

◂—♥︎—▸

You don’t know how long you had been there, but you don’t flinch when you hear the apartment door crack open.

You do move when you see who walks through the door.

There, a very beat up Jisung makes his way through the door, bruises and scars littering his arms. Cuts are all over his pretty face, causing a red tint all over. That’s all you can see through his tank top and long pants, but you know it must be worse.

You don’t know how you process all that, because once you register that it’s him, your running towards him faster than you’ve ever ran.

“J-Ji.?” You manage to stutter out, touching his skin delicately as if he could shatter, and honestly, you were scared he would. “Ji! O-oh my god! I t-thought you d-died!”

He grabs onto your hips, pulling you into his chest and rubing your back to console you. It usually works, but today, it’s only making the tears flow harder.

“What? Sweetheart, I’m fi-“ but you weren’t hearing it.

“Fine..? FINE!? You were not fine! I watched you lay there on the ground almost dead and you want to tell me you were fine?! I don’t know how much longer I can sit there and watch you ALMOST DIE, just for you to come home and say you’re fine, Han! I can’t take it.”

Your rambling angrily, stopping when you read the look in hans eyes.

fear & despair

“W-what do you mean by how much longer. Please don’t m-mean what I think you mean.” You can see the tears forming in his eyes as he pieces together your words and your shacked with guilt, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“No. I don’t mean that at all. I-I’m just emotional. Just g-give me a minute to think, and then we can talk.” You whisper that last sentence, turning around and walking out of the shared living room, leaving behind a very shattered Jisung standing there, hand out as if to reach for you, but missing.

Missing by a long, long, shot.

◂—♥︎—▸

It’s not too long until you find yourself walking out of the bedroom, finding Han laying on the couch, seemingly staring into nothing, and this only makes you feel more guilty.

“Hey.” You start, seeing as Hans head swiftly turns towards your direction, eyebags heavy.

Have these tears always been blocking your vision?

“Listen. I am so, so, so sorry for how I acted. It was so wrong of me to yell and scream at you when you were still injured, especially to the point you would think I would even ever consider breaking up with you. I don’t want you to think being Spiderman is a burden for me, I was just emotionally overwhelmed and I am sorry.” You start, watching as his eyes slowly start to twinkle with tears.

Have these tears always been rolling down your cheeks?

“I just…can’t stand watching you get hurt. The thought of you.. n-not coming home kills me. You mean the most to me that anything or anyone ever has in all of my lifetimes, and the thought of losing you? It fucking scares me. But I shouldn’t have yelled at you or pushed you away. I’m sorry, Ji.”

He’s sat up by now, grabbing your hands in his. His eyes are sunken, and he still has various scars on his face, but the bruises have faded by now. You wish you could kiss all his pain away, but it’s hard to when it’s the emotional kind now and you feel as if it’s your fault.

“It’s okay, I understand. But listen to me, that’s never going to happen. I’m never ever going to leave you here by yourself. You will always have me. Until we grow old and much farther, I will never leave you.”

His words fill you with the sort of comfort you hadn’t felt for a long time, settling the aching in your heart that you carried for longer than you care to remember.

You knew there was going to be countless times where he was going to get endangered in the future, and you were never going to stop worrying about him. But for now, you felt at peace with him, your Spiderman.

Your hero.

back to masterlist

A/N : oh my goodness… proofreading this day of post is hard. I write a story and think it’s hits, then I go back and read it and it’s horrible…

[redrose10]

This was a request for fake dating with Jungkook and prompt #40 I think I have always been in love with you for @yoongznme. I hope you like it!

< Lemonade >

Warnings: Hints of body insecurities

#40 “I think, I have always been in love with you.”

*******************************************************

“I’m sorry what?”, you asked them to repeat themselves for the third time still not believing what you were hearing. When your boss asked to have a word with you about a promotion you thought it would include a few extra responsibilities and hopefully a much needed raise because being a makeup artist for an award winning kpop group did not really pay as well as you’d think.

You never expected to be told that you would be pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend though. It was some crazy plan that the company’s PR team came up with after he had recently gotten some bad press over something dumb and out of his control but at the end of the day it was still bad press effecting numbers which effected profit.

They thought that it would be a good idea to make it look like he was a loving, sweet, devoted boyfriend who could do no wrong. Somehow or another your name got thrown in the mix because you yourself were nice, polite, and you had this kind of the good girl next door thing that they were looking for.

You were nervous to say the least. Jungkook was attractive, no one would deny that. He was also always very kind and thoughtful when you interacted and you definitely had a small crush on him but you were a professional and knew not to let your emotions get in the way of your work plus there’s no way a global superstar would ever actually want to date a struggling makeup artist.

However you agreed, though you had the suspicion you really didn’t have a choice anyways if you wanted to stay employed, and they told you to be back at the building tomorrow night at 8pm.

So you did just that. You were in the dress one of the stylist left for you and you’d done your makeup and hair. Jungkook was styled perfectly as usual and he smelled so warm and comforting as he gave you a hug, “You look really nice Y/N.”

“Thank you.”, you whispered hoping he couldn’t see you blush.

The plan was to drive over to a very well known hotspot for dinner. Idols frequented the place constantly so there was also a stream of paparazzi and fans trying to catch a glimpse.

When you arrived the amount of people shocked you. As soon as Jungkook appeared there were earth shattering screams and so many flashes of light you couldn’t see a foot in front of you.

“Y/N, just stay close behind me.”, he said taking your hand and helping you out of the car while making sure to block the view of the cameras so you could get out comfortably in your dress.

Once you were in view the screams got even louder although maybe angrier. The camera flashes definitely increased though giving you a headache. The bodyguards began to push through the crowd with Jungkook close behind, his hand tightly gripping yours as you tried to keep up.

Inside, the restaurant was significantly calmer which you appreciated. Jungkook sipped on his beer while you stuck to a lemonade.

“I’m sorry the company is making you go through this.”, he said finally after a bout of silence.

“It’s okay. They’re paying me quite a bit so it’s worth it.”, you chuckled not noticing the slight grimace on his face.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Jungkook was a great guest and you relaxed enjoyed hearing about his travels and all the funny stories he had, especially the one about Yoongi tripping and falling face first into a cake that Namjoon had decided to leave sitting on the living room floor for some strange reason. He showed you a picture of Yoongi’s face covered in frosting and you couldn’t wait to tease him about it when you saw him next.

After dinner the crowd outside had died down a little bit was still enough that you had to put on an act. Jungkook pulled you close against him as he took you outside and right into the waiting vehicle where he continued to hold you against him even as the car sped off. It sent a wave of emotions through you so you made sure to create a little bit of space between you both just to remind yourself that none of this was real.

It looked like the plan was working perfectly because the next morning there were several headlines questioning who was the cute woman Jungkook was photographed with last night. The fans were also loosing their minds over it, posting over and over about speculations and rumors. You did your best to try and avoid most of them because while a good chunk were generally in favor of the relationship there were still many, mostly fans, that were not happy about Jungkook possibly being in a relationship. This resulted in you seeing some hurtful words about yourself m before deciding to log out of all of your social medias.

The next several weeks were filled with much of the same. Various stages photo ops took place so that fans and photographers could catch moments between you both. When the rumors finally started to become out of hand the company released an official statement confirming the relationship between Jungkook and you, a sweet, down to earth makeup artist that he had fallen madly in love with. The media and fans lost their minds.

You went into this whole thing thinking it would be easy. You were getting a big payday to basically hangout with Jungkook and let your photo get taken. You didn’t expect for your crush to grow into being full on in love with him but it was hard not to fall. He was so incredibly thoughtful and sweet. He was always ordering you lunch or bringing you a coffee even when the cameras weren’t around. When your cat needed an unexpected emergency surgery he paid for it in full after overhearing you cry to one of your friends about how you couldn’t afford it. He was always telling you how pretty you looked or complimenting your clothes with a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. When you were visiting a friend and missed the last bus and you called him as a last resort hoping he could ask the company to send a car he drove over an hour at 2am to personally pick you up himself while staying on the phone with you the whole time so that you wouldn’t be scared.

After a few months of this it was getting harder and harder to remind yourself this wasn’t real.

Up until this point things were going great. Your relationship was doing exactly what the PR team had hoped. People pretty much completely forgot about his previous scandal and were focused on how he was a sweet and generous boyfriend. His image had never been better.

Then there was an incident. Jungkook was very protective always keeping you close to him. Even when the bodyguards reminded him that they were there for your protection as well he still insisted on personally seeing to your safety.

So one morning you were set to board a flight to New York. Of course the entrance to the air port was packed full of paparazzi and fans all screaming and trying to get photos and videos of you two. The airport had put up barriers but with the amount of people all pushing and shoving some of the barriers got knocked down allowing the crowd to surge in.

Security did their best to surround you guys and get you through the crowd but they were greatly outnumbered.

Thanks to the loud noises and flashing lights and amount of people surrounding you it all became too much and you began to panic. You held onto Jungkook, squeezing his hand that was interlocked with yours to try and ground yourself and remind yourself that you were okay.

“It’s okay Y/N. I’ve got you. We’ll get through this.”, he said trying to comfort you.

The crowd surged forward again. Thanks to your blurry vision and panic you aren’t sure exactly what happened but somehow you tripped ending up on the floor. You were trying to get up fast before you got trampled on but you kept getting pushed and shoved down until you felt someone grab your waist and pull you up. Instantly you recognized the familiar cologne and tucked your face into Jungkook’s shoulder as he quickly pulled you through the rest of the airport.

On the plane where it was quiet and safe you started full on crying. You felt so silly but you couldn’t hold it in any more.The fear and anxiety became too much.

Jungkook came over handing you a bottle of water and some ice for your bruised knee. He rubbed soothing circles on your back as the plane took off, “It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”, you whispered starting to feel a little better.

After a while you managed to fall asleep and take a small nap. When you woke up Jungkook was still sitting next to you. He was staring intently at your face.

“Stop looking at me. I’m always so ugly when I wake up.”, you chuckled feeling much better than earlier.

“Impossible. You are never ugly Y/N.”, he whispered.

He was fidgeting with his shoe lace. Something you had picked up on being a nervous habit of his.

“Hey Kook, is there something on your mind?”, you asked.

He waited a moment before nodding, “When we get back from New York I’m going to tell the company that we need to end this fake dating thing. I can’t do it any more.”

You felt like you wanted to cry again but you swallowed it down because maybe he thought you were too weak or why would he want to be with the girl who tripped an embarrassed herself and himself, “O-Okay. It’s up to you.”

“I just…I’m so selfish”, he chuckled, “I’m not going to keep putting you in danger though. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you Y/N, especially if it was my fault. What happened back at the airport…that was a wake up call. I’m sorry I ever suggested this.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion., “What do you mean you suggested this?” You were under the impression this was all the companys PR team but now it seems like he had a part of it.

His cheeks turned a bright red before he ran a hand through his already messy hair, “Well I guess I might as well come clean now.”, he turned his body to look at you fully, “Y/N when the company suggested this fake dating thing I was against it at first. But then…then I thought maybe I could use it as an excuse to spend more time with you. I’ve always thought you were really cute and sweet and kind and I had a bit of a crush on you. So I convinced them to get you to be the woman I fake dated. I was too shy to ask you to hang out so I thought it was a way to spend time with you and get to know you better.”, he made eye contact with you for a brief moment and you could see the fear in them. He continued, “I think I have always been in love with you. I love you more and more every day.”, your heart was practically beating out of your chest at his confession. You tried to stop him but he continued, “And that’s why we have to end this. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. You don’t deserve this.”

He looked as if he was about to cry and it made you want to just cuddle him and make everything go away. Instead you chose to grab his hand and hold it on your lap, “Jungkook I love you too. I have for quite a while. Honestly, I didn’t think you would ever see me like that so I thought this was all your company’s idea.”, his shoulders seemed to relax a little at your words so you went on, “I know that dating you comes with lots of hardships but I think the positives greatly outweigh those negatives and I don’t mind going through them. If…if you want to I would like to continue to date you, but maybe actually date and not fake date anymore.”, you chuckled.

That got a big smile out of him too which warmed your heart. “I would love to keep dating you Y/N.”, he nodded. You cuddled in closer to him spending the rest of the flight talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s presence.

When the plane landed he had already arranged for a car to pick you up straight from the tarmac so that you wouldn’t have to endure the stress of walking through the airport with him again.

When he finally made it out front and jumped into the car he smiled at seeing your face, “I missed you Y/N.”, he then leaned in and kissed you like it was nothing new. “You already got into the lemonade didn’t you.”, he chuckled after tasting it on your lips.

“Kook we were only separated for like ten minutes and of course I did. You know lemonade is my favorite.”, you giggled.

He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, “Doesn’t matter. It was ten minutes too long.”

You gave the top of his head a kiss as the car sped off to your new destination.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Something Else - Lando Norris

<word count - 8614> |part 1 - Nerd|part 2 - Rumours|part 3 - So Special|

warnings: more maths, biology, bitches

That night, Lando spent his evening in his room, procrastinating. He had homework to do, but he couldn't bring himself to sit at his desk and pick up his pen. Plus, he could just do it with you tomorrow, anyway. 

The excitement that he felt as a result of getting to sit with you again, getting to spend time with you again was unlike anything else he had ever felt. It was like he was a young child on Christmas Eve, unable to wait for the next morning to roll around so that they could see what Santa had brought them. 

His whole family could see a clear shift in his mood, since they had grown so accustomed to moody, sad Lando over the past couple of days. All he wanted to do was get to school the next day just so that he could get to second break and meet you in the library - and that was something he never thought he'd say. 

Lando had also made his mind up that tomorrow, he was going to ask for your snap. Or your number. Having your number felt a lot more personal and serious than just having your Snapchat. He had a lot of people's snaps, but not many people's numbers. But he wanted yours. 

He wanted to save the conversations you'd have, he wanted to be able to call you when he got home from school and talk to you until he couldn't keep his eyes from drooping shut and then do it all again the next day until he could spend his weekends with you. 

Lando truly was the epitome of a love-sick teenage boy, pining after a girl who he wasn't even sure who wanted him back. You had to though, right? You wore his jumpers, you helped him with his work, he drove you home, hell you hugged each other. 

Meanwhile, you were happy, just not to the scale that Lando was. You were confused, to say the least. You didn't think that everything was just automatically going to blow over just because you had stuck up for yourself once, and the fact that you had was surprising to you. 

But you didn't know if you could keep on standing up for yourself, remembering how you had just broken down in front of Lando and felt like a complete idiot. It also baffled you how... understanding, he had been.

He didn't laugh, didn't tell you to get a grip, he didn't stand there awkwardly - well, he did but he had the right intentions. He had hugged you. I mean, what teenage boy hugs a girl that they're friends with when she's crying?

Despite the jokes he sometimes made, he clearly had an old head on young shoulders. The maturity that he had showed made you like him more, if you were being honest. How much you like him was obvious to you at this point.

You'd always been able to appreciate his face, but now it was more than that. You wanted to spend time with him, sit with him, just be near him. You wanted to laugh at his jokes, hear his voice, make him laugh. 

Yet there was always the fear. If you were actually together, what other rumours would people spout? How much worse would it get? Sure, you'd have Lando there by your side, and you knew he'd stick up for you, but how much more could you take? 

Was your adoration of him enough to cancel out everything people said?

Alas, the next morning, you had the courage to get on the bus instead of having to walk the freezing journey to school. Lando wasn't there, but you weren't upset by it. Max and his friends also didn't say anything, which was... weird, but you chose to ignore it. 

That and the weird feeling of dread that you had in your gut. 

Anyway, you walked into school, actually going to the canteen instead of the toilets or the lockers in fear of people talking to you. As you sat down at the table you usually did, the people that filtered in gave you weird looks. 

It almost looked remorseful, maybe something along the lines of pity? They spoke in hushed whispers around you, none of them making the effort to speak to you. You just scrolled on your phone as you sat there, your headphones in your ears. 

You could hear the faint chatterings of the other people in your year, but you were more focused on your phone. Eventually, the people in the canteen fell silent, the light buzzing of their conversations dying down as the doors opened. 

Out of curiosity, you looked up to see Lilly, strutting into the room. You knew something was amiss, but you had no clue what it was. People looked between you and her, and you were so confused as to what was going on. 

To make the atmosphere worse, Lando walked in after her a few seconds later, and you saw how come people's eyes went wide. Lando smiled at you before taking himself over to his friends, and Lilly went to her own table. 

"Mate, is it true?" Max asked Lando, and all he could do was roll his eyes. He had heard the sentence a lot of time recently, and he could only assume that he was about to hear some bullshit. But what Max said nearly made his heart stop. 

"Did you cheat on Y/N with Lilly?" 

Now that was a question that had a lot to unpack. To start off with, there was no way he could've cheated on you since you weren't together, that was the first major thing that he went through in his head. 

The second thing was that it was a stupid question; he'd never cheat on you. If you were his, he wouldn't risk losing you over something so stupid and hurtful as cheating. If you were his, he'd never have the desire to be with anyone else. If you were his, he'd be the best damn boyfriend he could've possibly been. 

Thirdly, it was already established that he wouldn't cheat to begin with, but certainly not with Lilly. God, even the sound of her name in his head made him want to throw up. He knew she had a massive crush on him, but he'd never stoop that low. 

"Who the fuck said that?" he rushed, his tone not lacking urgency. 

"I don't know where it came from, Will told me this morning," Max sheepishly said, not missing the alarm in Lando's voice. He knew his friend had been having a hard time lately - and he was a participant. But he also knew that it was going to get worse from now.

"Oh my christ," he mumbled, getting up nearly as quickly as he had sat down. Lando had spotted Will going over to the lockers earlier, and he hoped he was still there. You saw his face, the look on it. 

There was no emotion on his features other than rage, and you still didn't know what was going on. As he left, people carried on looking between you and Lilly, and you could only assume that it was something to do with her. 

"Will," Lando said, spotting the blonde boy fiddling with dials on his locker. 

"Hey Lando! What's-" he cheerily started, but he stopped when he saw Lando's face. He knew what he was asking about. "What's up, mate?" he asked, not even knowing if he wanted to find the answer out in the end.                                             

"What did you tell Max? About me 'cheating' on Y/N?" 

Will was internally cursing Max for telling Lando that he had been the one to spread the message around the friend group, and he was nothing short of terrified of Lando right now. "I just told him what Maisie told me," he quietly said. 

"And what did Maisie tell you?" Lando prompted.

"She just said that things weren't great between you and Y/N and that you apparently spent last night with Lilly..." he trailed off, and the pieces all fell into place in his head. Lilly. 

She had surely been the one to spread it around her friends, who were the gossipers of the school. He should've known it would be her, especially after how she had spoken to you and about you when he was listening. 

He wasn't going to bother going to Maisie and asking her what Lilly had said, but he knew Lilly would just spout pure and utter bullshit to him and it'd be a waste of time trying to get the truth out of her. At least Maisie would be easy to intimidate the veracities of the story out of. 

Lando needed to get to the bottom of this, preferably before first period so you wouldn't spend your lesson upset. It was naive to think that this wouldn't get back to you before that point, but he would be a lot more relieved if he could tell you what was going on before you got upset. 

"You absolute idiot, you know that Y/N and I aren't together, and you sure as hell know that I wouldn't touch that bitch with a 10 foot barge pole!" Lando spat, taking himself away from will before he did something he'd regret. 

Meanwhile, you were still in the dark about everything that was going on. Until now. "Hey... erm... I'm really sorry to hear about what Lando did. It's really shitty. Especially with Lilly. I guess we all should've seen it coming," someone came up to you and said. 

It was one of the usually shy girls, so it was surprising to see her come and talk to you out of the blue. "What are you talking about?" you asked, and her mouth dropped.

"You don't know what he did?" she asked, suddenly feeling like this was the single worst idea she had had in at least the last five years. 

"What did he do?" you replied, thinking that Lando had done or said something that was instantly going to ruin the reconciliation that you had both made yesterday. You really hoped that it wasn't something he had done, because you didn't think you could handle that volume of feelings again. 

"With... Lilly... you know... cheated..." she mumbled, avoiding your eyes and looking at the freshly buffed canteen floor. 

"Lando can't cheat if we were never together to begin with," you coldly said, your voice betraying no emotion. For some reason, the word 'cheated' sent a pang of hurt through your body, but you couldn't quite decipher why. 

Maybe it was just the mere idea of Lando cheating on you that sent your heart into a spiral, but there was certainly something about it that hurt. And with Lilly? Ha, that was funny. As if he'd do that... or would he?

Oh here came the doubt, the questioning, the lack of reasoning. Lando would never cheat on you. Never. He was not that kind of guy, and you couldn't even see him thinking of it, let alone actually doing it. But you weren't even together so it didn't matter.

"Oh... I... erm... sorry..." she trailed off, scurrying away from you before you had chance to say anything else. Now you knew why everyone was giving you looks and whispering about you. They all believed that you and Lando were together from the first set of rumours, and now it seemed perfectly plausible that he had cheated on you. Just great. 

In the interim, Lando skulked down the hall, before spotting Maisie just before she reached the canteen. "Maisie!" he called out, jogging up to catch her. The girl's face absolutely fell when she saw Lando, and she was clearly of the knowledge that she was in some deep shit.

"Look, I only know what Lilly told me, OK?" she said, and he could have laughed at how scared she was. 

"Which was...?"

"That things between you and Y/N were rocky, to say the least. Apparently she was too boring, too square for you. So you called Lilly and... you know." Maisie explained. The implication in her words wasn't lost on Lando, and he could feel the hot sears of fury building up in his stomach and spreading through his veins. 

"And you believed it? You really fucking believed a word that she said? Are you seriously that naive?" he grovelled through gritted teeth, really trying not to lose his temper with the cowardly girl in front of him.

Maisie was scared. Terrified, even. "She's my friend... I..." she stuttered, unable to meet his eyes. 

"Well she shouldn't be, get better friends. She is nothing but a lying, manipulative, awful person that you'll be better off getting rid of sooner rather than later," he told Maisie, leaving her awestruck at what he had said. 

Now all Lando had to do was find the single thing that had caused him the most distress as of recent: Lilly.

He had seen her in the canteen, and he assumed that she'd still be there. Pushing past Maisie, he stormed into the room, and you knew he knew. You had instantly jumped to the conclusion that Lilly had been the one to spread the rumours, and now it seemed that Lando was trying to resolve the issue. 

"Lilly what the fuck are you playing at?" he sneered, leaning over the table and towering over her. The smirk on her face looked proud of what she'd done, and it pissed him off even more than he already was, if that was possible.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you watching him. He knew you knew, and he was going to go to every length that he could to make sure that you weren't upset by this, by her. "Not my fault she was too vanilla for you," she laughed, her friends grinning along. 

"Too vanilla? Are you out of your fucking mind? I'd rather be dead than touch you!" Lando near on yelled, people averting their eyes to him as his voice raised slightly. 

"Not what you were saying last night..." she chided in a sing song tone, and Lando was about 2 seconds away from losing his cool. 

"Well then let me make it quite clear. I would never ever want to be anywhere near you, got it? Now stop making shit up that everyone knows isn't true just because no one actually likes you. Y/N doesn't, your friends don't, no one around here does, and I sure as hell don't," he ranted, and Lilly's confidence faltered. 

He could see the slight expression of jealousy on her face, since she knew deep down that her efforts of being with Lando were proving futile. There was also some semblance of hurt there, since it was never nice to be verbally berated by the boy you had a crush on. 

"And what makes her so special, eh? Her drab personality? The fact that she's a complete suck up? Her lack of friends? Or is it just because she's clever?" she spat back, her tone not lacking that familiar snark that she was famous for. 

"She's a hell of a lot more than you'll ever be. If I hear one more lie come from your mouth, your life around here will be hell," Lando finished, moving across the canteen to go and sit with his friends: who had all been watching the ordeal from afar. 

He hadn't noticed, but pretty much everyone in the year was watching the argument. Even you, sitting at your table by the wall, were dumbfounded. As Lando sat down, you could see how he was trying to seem all cool, calm and collected like he normally was.

But, you could see the faint inklings of his anger still lingering on the surface, and you were sure they'd be there for the rest of the day. You were pissed off too, but you couldn't help but feel a small smidgen of upset too.

You didn't want to be upset, not by Lilly, never by Lilly. Yet you were. That sad feeling that you'd had over the past couple of days was creeping back in, as much as you were willing it to go away so that you could carry on as if this had never happened. 

Cutting through the light chatter, the bell rang out that signalled that you should go to first period. You spent your hour in history not really concentrating on the details of the Cuban Missile Crisis, more on what Lilly had said.

Something about the words ran deeper than they ought to have, and it was like an itch you couldn't quite scratch. "Y/N, who was it that met with Anatoly Dobrynin to secretly resolve the crisis?" your teacher interrupted, pushing you momentarily off the path that your mind was taking you down.

"Erm..." you stuttered, and something that resembled concern flashed in your teacher's eyes. You were normally so on the ball, always switched on and tuned into lessons. But, he wouldn't hold it against you that you were zoned out once.

He had never ever seen you not paying attention, so he'd let it slide. Just before he said the answer, it popped into your head. You seemed to remember reading about it in your textbook once, but it might not have been right. "Robert Kennedy?" you said, and a soft smile found its way onto his face. 

"Yes, well done," he nodded, and you were off the hook for now. You could go back to your little daydreams about everything that had gone on in the morning. Or day-mares. You weren't quite sure. 

First break and second period went by, and you remembered that you said you'd help Lando with his biology. The anxiety that you used to feel about seeing Lando was crawling through you, feeling almost like a hand wrapped around your neck.

You were at the library first, as usual. You didn't have biology today, but you had brought your text book just so you could fill in any of the gaps in your own knowledge before attempting to teach Lando any of it. 

You weren't actually sure what about anatomy he was wanting to learn or if that was just a joke, but you thought it would be better to be prepared. The chair in front of you was pulled out, and Lando sat down with a big grin on his face. 

He was trying to be normal, but he was scrutinising your every move to see if you were OK. "Hey," he smiled, rummaging through his bag to get out his crumpled work book and biology textbook. "So, tell me about that cycle thing," he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, ready to listen to you. 

"The menstrual cycle?" you pressed, since there were many cycles he could have been referring to. Plus, it was funny to see the flush of red on his cheeks and the way the tips of his ears turned pink when he was embarrassed.

Lando may have been a mature boy when it came to your emotions, but he was just like the rest of them when it came to talking about slightly awkward topics like periods. "Erm... yeah. That one." he confirmed. 

"OK, so, what you need to know about are the 4 hormones. You've got LH, oestrogen, progesterone and FSH. FSH causes the maturing of the egg in the ovary, LH triggers ovulation, which is the release of the egg into the uterus. Oestrogen repairs and thickens the uterus lining, and progesterone maintains the uterus lining." you explained, and Lando tried to be an active listener by nodding his head as you spoke. 

"Sure, yeah, I can remember that," he nodded. "You'll probably have to explain it a few times to me, but I can remember that. It isn't so hard," he reassured, but it sounded like he was telling himself more than he was telling you. 

"So from that, try some practice questions, and then we can fill in any gaps after, yeah?" you said, taking his textbook and flicking through the pages until you found the practice questions at the end of the chapter on the menstrual cycle. 

"Yes ma'am," he jokingly saluted, picking up his pen and looking after the questions. "Do you have some paper?" he asked, clearly not having brought any. You just rolled your eyes at him, ripping a sheet out of your notebook for him. "Thanks, you're the best," he winked at you, his eyes moving down to the paper on the table before he could spot you blushing. 

God was he charming. As Lando distracted himself with getting on with the practice questions, you figured you might as well finish your physics homework that you had been given in second period. It wouldn't take you long if you concentrated. 

But it was hindered by that small feeling of anxiety again. Anxiety of being here with Lando. Lilly's words echoed in your head again, and the stab of pain didn't become any less stinging as you thought about it.  

'Her drab personality?' You knew you weren't the most egregiously outgoing person in the world, or the most funny, but you didn't think you were drab, per se. Maybe just reserved. The people that had put the time in to get to know you seemed to find you funny.

Well, Lando seemed to find you funny. That had to count for something, right? You didn't have to be overly loud or obnoxious just to have a personality, but you were in high school, so maybe you did. 

'The fact that she's a complete suck up?' You wouldn't say you were exactly a suck up, you just liked doing well in your lessons, it was as simple as that. You didn't like getting told off, so you did your work, and you did it well. 

The praise brought you a nice little ding of satisfaction, and you didn't really see much reason to act out or not do your work. You had your moments where you had forgotten things, but your teachers were lenient since you were always so diligent. 

'Her lack of friends?' Now that was just inaccurate. You had friends, most of them were people you just so happened to sit next to in your lessons and you hung out on occasion. You didn't hang out with them in school since you liked to knuckle down and get your work done during the day so you could limit the amount you did at home. 

You went out on the weekends, whether it be for lunch or to do some activity that one of them had picked. There was just the illusion that you didn't have any friends, but you didn't expect Lilly to be so observant. 

'Or is it just because she's clever?' The more you thought about it, the more you thought that being smart was the only thing you had going for you. It was easy to look past everything that made you you when you were always getting the best grades. 

A lot of people seemed to omit the detail of your name when referring to you, simply calling you the 'smart one'. It had never bothered you before, so why did it now? Surely though, Lando didn't just like you because you were smart?

Most of the time, you weren't being academic when you spent time together, so there had to be more to it than that. As you got in your own head, your self-confidence was dwindling. Was all of that really what people thought of you?

That you were drab, friendless, a kiss ass, just the smart one? Maybe they had and you had just never noticed. All anyone ever saw you as was clever. The little lonely thing who just studied instead of having a worthy social life. 

That you were destined for solitude with nothing but your textbooks and scientific journals teeming with knowledge. It wasn't how you wanted yourself to be seen, not in the slightest. For a moment, you considered having a full on glow up, complete with the leather pants and hairspray - just like Sandy in Grease.

But that would be a little too much, so you decided against the idea. At least you didn't have long before you could leave that place and never look back. School had never been about the people to you, not until now, anyway. 

Lando noticed that you weren't doing anything, your pen was just hovering over your sheet and it had been for a few minutes now. He didn't know whether you were brainstorming or thinking, but by the look on your face, whatever you were thinking wasn't pleasant.

"Hey..." he softly mumbled, reaching out hand to place on your arm from across the table. He gently shook you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You just looked at him for a moment, your brain taking you back to where you were. 

Right. Studying. Biology. Physics. With Lando.

"You stuck?" you asked, leaning over to glance at the practice questions he had been scribbling down onto the paper. 

"No, you just seem a bit spaced out. You doing OK?" he asked, concern written all over his face. He had a feeling he knew what was going on, and he was nearly 100% sure that he was right. 

"Yeah, I'm good, just tired," you lied through your teeth, and Lando knew it was complete and utter bullshit. His expression hardened, not liking that you were lying to him. He hated it when you lied to him.

"Hey, c'mon, don't do that. Talk to me," he urged, his hand still remaining on your arm as he squeezed it. You stayed silent, not wanting him to take the mick out of you for thinking the way you were. But Lando wasn't having it. "Please? You're clearly upset about something. You can tell me." he pressed. 

"I just... nevermind. It's stupid," you dismissed, picking your pen back up to actually make an attempt on your physics homework. 

"No, we're not doing that. If you don't tell me, then I can't make it better," he carried on pushing. Lando just wanted you to open up to him, to make you see that he could trust you. He wanted to fix your problems for you.

"I... do you think I'm drab?" you asked, and he was taken aback. He took a few seconds, thinking over your question. He hated that you even had to ask him that in the first place. 

"No, course I don't, you're so much more-"

"OK so do you think I'm a suck up? Do you think I have no friends? Is the only good thing about me my brain?" you rambled, and his face softened. He was right. It was exactly what he thought it would be: Lilly's words had gotten to you. 

"No, no. Listen to me," he said, but you were still looking down at the paper and fiddling with the top of your pen. "Can you look at me?" he asked. His mum always got him to look at her when he was upset and she was trying to be reassuring, so he figured he'd try the same approach as her.

"Y/N. Look at me." he said more firmly. The sternness in his tone wasn't like anything you had heard from him, and you didn't know what else to do apart from listen to him and do as he said. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, the softness hiding behind the hard exterior. 

"You are none of that. Don't let Lilly think any less of yourself. You're not drab, you're a joy to be around. You're not a suckup, you're a hard worker. You have friends, you've got me. And there is so much more to you that just your brain. Sure, it's an incredible thing that I admire about you, but there's more to you than just that."

Now you really didn't know what to say. Somehow, Lando had just said exactly what you needed to hear. Yet it didn't make the insecurity go away, not fully. "But do you think other people think that? Or is Lilly just saying what everyone thinks...?" you nearly whispered. 

"You don't need to care about anyone's opinion. Not everyone else's, not mine, and certainly not Lilly's. The only opinion you should care about is yours," he told you, and that was another moment where Lando showed that he was wise beyond his years. 

"OK," you agreed, and Lando finally removed his hand from your arm. He seemed settled by your agreement, but he knew he hadn't fully convinced you. He'd keep an eye on you and be ready to swoop in and quash any more of that lingered self deprecating doubt. 

"Now, do your physics. We can't have our number one scholar falling behind, can we?" he chuckled, trying to bring some light to the situation. 

"As if you could catch up, Norris," you laughed, finally starting the questions that you had to do. You had them done in ten minutes, and finally the bell went for the end of second break. You and Lando packed up your stuff, ready to head to your next lesson. 

"Hey, can we meet back here for the second half of lunch? I've got some maths I need help on," he asked, and you couldn't say no to him.

"Sure, I'll be here all lunch so just come up whenever," you told him, and he ran out to the language block for French so that he wasn't late. You just had English downstairs, so it was a short walk for you. 

Exactly as he said, Lando trudged back up to the library halfway through lunch. "My French teacher is an absolute bitch. She kept me behind for ten minutes because apparently the way I say 'jouer' isn't French enough for her. We went through pronunciation for ages and said I need to work on it," he scoffed, plopping down in front of you and earning a glare from the librarian. 

"So are we doing French or maths today?" you chuckled, thinking he'd want to do French after his little outburst. 

"I would rather die than have to think of 'qu'est ce il y a dans ta ville' again," he mocked, purposely avoiding trying to pronounce the words right. "We're doing maths. And we're doing polynomial division. Because further maths is kicking my arse at the moment,"

"Sure, sure, OK. Get your book out," you told him, going into your bag to get your own maths book out. You had it last period, so you thankfully had all your stuff to hand.

"You know, I'd be much better at maths if I could sit with you again..." he said, hoping you'd catch onto what he was asking. It was true - his maths was a hell of a lot better when he had you to help him and guide him through it. 

"Are you asking if you can come back to your old place?"

"Yes. Yes I am." he confirmed. 

"Then yeah, I think you're good to move back to your old place," you confirmed, and the smile on his face was adorable. If you were being honest with yourself, you were also missing him in maths. The seat next to you had been left vacant, and you quite liked it that way.

But, having Lando there would've been a hell of a lot better than sitting by yourself. You enjoyed teaching him and it brought you a lot of satisfaction. It was nice to have that sense of fulfillment when you had shared your knowledge to someone, especially when it was Lando. 

 "So what is it about polynomial division that you don't get?" you asked, taking his book from him and looking at the half-done sums on the page.

"I get the first bit about putting x into x cubed, but from there? Nah," he told you, and you could see what he meant. He had gotten past step one, but had completely faltered on the rest of the maths.

"So now you want to times out your x squared by the -4 after the x and put that under there," you told him, pointing to the spot on the page where he needed to put in the multiplied terms and numbers. 

You talked Lando through the rest of the steps and went over a few more with him, before letting him go through a few himself. "Are you OK? You know, after earlier and everything. I don't want you thinking like that about yourself,"

"Oh, yeah, it was just a short thing. I was being silly," you shook your head, and Lando seemed to believe you. 

"Good. And... what do I do from this bit? Minus the 3?"

"No, plus. If you try to minus a minus, it turns into a plus, yeah?" you reiterated, and he instantly remembered the small maths fact. He just smiled at you, and you couldn't quite decipher what the look in his eyes was. It looked like some form of wonder, but you decided that that was just wishful thinking on your part. 

"You're something else, you know that?" he quietly said, and you wouldn't have caught it if you weren't in the near silence of the library. 

"Hm?" you asked, wanting to make sure you had heard what you thought you had heard. 

"Oh, nothing," he blushed, pretending like he was doing his maths while you sat there. Lando mentally scolded himself for the slip up, annoyed that he had let it leave his lips. It was a freudian slip, yes, but he wasn't going to admit that. 

He wanted to tell you again, and he wanted to tell you over and over and over again until you believed it, but he didn't want to push it too far. You had only just gotten back to normal, and he didn't want to ruin it just as quickly as he had gotten it back. 

You both worked in silence until you needed to go to your 4th lesson of the day, yours being Spanish and Lando's being chemistry. "Can I walk you there?" he asked, not caring if he was late for chemistry, he hated the lesson anyway.

"Sure," you agreed, packing up your stuff and walking by his side. Lando wanted to be able to reach out, intertwine his fingers with yours and feel the warmth of your hand. But again, that'd be too much far too soon. 

People gave you dubious glances as you walked through the corridors, and the people going into your class thought it was weird when Lando just stood outside with you when they knew he wasn't in their class. "Have a good lesson, yeah? I'll see you in maths," he smiled, leaning against the wall next to the classroom door. 

"Yeah, enjoy chemistry," you smiled at him, walking in and taking your seat. After spending all that time with Lando, you forgot one teeny weeny detail. You sat with Lilly in Spanish. Great. And the realisation kicked in when she took her seat next to you. 

Dread settled in the pit of your stomach, even if she didn't say anything for the first half of the lesson. The two of you didn't have any reason to talk, so you were perfectly happy with ignoring her existence and getting your lesson out of the way. 

Yet of course, you had to do partner work. The task was simple, it was just testing each other on vocab. One of you would give the English word, and the other would give the Spanish word back. But, it wasn't like you could get out of it or ask to move places, since that would be way too obvious. She didn't initiate the conversation, so you had to be the bigger person and start it.

"Do you want me to ask first or do you want to?" you asked, and she looked at you as if you had just thrown up on her. The disgust on her face was obvious, since she made no attempt to hide it. If anything, she was playing up to make you feel worse. 

"You can ask," she said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms. You looked at the vocabulary that you had written down in your book, scanning through the different words.

"OK... what is the plot?" you asked, and she sighed.

"Don't know." Oh. So that was how this was going to go. OK, yeah, sure, you got the idea. 

"El argumento. What is the scene?" 

"Don't know." she said, looking bored as ever. She looked like she wanted to say something, but for whatever reason, she was holding her tongue. That wasn't like Lilly, not at all, so you were slightly surprised. 

"It's really easy, come on," you huffed, feeling quite frustrated that she was being so stubborn and pig headed. But it was Lilly, what else were you expecting? 

"Look, Y/N, if it wasn't already obvious, I don't like you, and I'm certainly not going to sit here and play classmates with you, OK?" she said in the way an adult would scold a child. 

"Good, because if it wasn't already obvious, I don't like you either. But I'm not going to sit here and be a bitch about it, OK?" you replied with the same tone, and you spotted the spark that ignited in her eyes. 

Did you slightly regret snapping back? Yes. But was it a little fun? Hell yeah. 

"Ha, please. I'm not a bitch, you're just delusional," she scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. Delusional? How had that come out of your previous sentence? Clearly noticing the confusion on your face, she spoke again. 

"Did you see that little show that Lando put on this morning? He's a good actor, isn't he? Mind you, it is quite pathetic that you believed it." she said, and you dropped your book down onto the table. 

"You and I both know that that is absolute-" 

"He just uses you, you know that? Ever since you've been 'friends', haven't you noticed that his grades in pretty much everything have gone up? He didn't mean a word of it," she spat, and it was like she had read your mind and brought back up the rest of your insecurities. 

She had triggered them earlier, and now she was doing it again. "Not so mouthy now, are we?" she grinned, clearly satisfied with your facial expression. 

You felt the familiar trepidation of seeing Lando next period coming back to the fore, and all you could muster was a simple, "And this is why nobody likes you."

"Lando seems to," she said after hearing your quip, but you both knew it was bullshit. At least that wasn't true. Or was it? You didn't know what was true in regards to you and Lando anymore. 

Did he really just use you to get his grades up? Was that all this was?

Spanish was over after a little while, but you went straight to your maths classroom so that you wouldn't have to see Lando during break. Your teacher wasn't there, so you just sat in your seat to think about things. 

She walked in after some time, you couldn't say how much time you had been sat there, but there were likely only a few minutes left until break was over.  "Y/N? What's wrong? Did something happen with Lando again?" she asked, seeing the look on your face. 

"Not with Lando. Well, not Lando directly, anyway." you mumbled, and she knelt down in front of your desk. 

"You can tell me," she said. Lando had said the exact same thing to you earlier in the day, but it didn't have the same effect coming from her. 

"It's fine, I've got it covered," you said, and she decided not to press the issue further. It wasn't long before the bell went and people started filtering in. Surprisingly, Lando was one of the first to walk in and came to his seat next to you. 

"Lando, to the back," your teacher said, and he instantly knew something was wrong. 

"Miss, it's fine, really," you reassured her, and Lando briskly took his seat beside you. He could tell the energy around you was off, and he was hell bent on getting to the bottom of it. 

Meanwhile, Lilly's words were storming through your head like a runaway freight train. 'He just uses you'. It had been a fear you had held for a while, albeit one that you had convinced yourself of being irrational.

Surely, there was no way he'd do that, right? There was no way he would hug you, drive you home, walk you to class, spend his free time on projects for you if he was just using you. People weren't overly nice to people they were exploiting. 

Or maybe he was just doing it to butter you up, keep you sweet for him. Keep his grades higher. Maybe he had figured out that his niceties got him favours from you, all of which involved help on his school work. 

Maybe he was what you initially thought he was when you first talked to him on that broken down bus. A character. A special version of Lando Norris, crafted just for you. The edition of him that would get him what he wanted in the most efficient manner. 

Maybe, just maybe, Lilly was right. Lando was the star actor, the leading role, the puppet master. And you were simply the one on the strings, dancing to whatever sick tune he played.  

While you were thinking, Lando let some of the lesson go by until you were set off to work on some questions. "What's wrong?" he asked straight up, turning his body so that he was facing you more. When you didn't answer him, he nudged your leg with his knee under the table. "Come on, I know something's wrong. Is it about earlier?"

'No, I've just come to the conclusion that you might be using me' was what you thought, but you still couldn't deduce whether it was just Lilly and your mind wreaking havoc on you, or if it was the uncovered truth.

"Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours," he said, hoping to get some form of a smile from the compliment. He would take anything at this point. However, you gave him nothing. You kept your eyes trained on your paper, your pen mindlessly scribbling. 

"Was it Lilly?" he asked, and he saw the slight change in your expression. Well at least he knew something about what was going on with you. Even just the mention of it triggered the familiar, hot prickle of tears at the backs of your eyes. 

Lando spotted you welling up, and he knew he'd hit a sore spot. "Hey, no, I'm sorry for pushing, I'll stop, it's OK," he rambled, feeling panicked at the prospect of you crying. He had seen it a few times, and it was a few times too many. 

He also didn't want you to feel embarrassed by crying in the middle of class, especially not because of him. "You're OK, I'm sorry, it's OK," he tried to soothe as you tried to fight the tears back. 

Lando wished he could just hug you like he had before, since that seemed to take the pain away for a little bit. At least then, he wouldn't feel so useless and like he was just sitting by and watching you get upset. 

All he wanted was to hold you in his arms, make sure that no one else could ever hurt you again. But even then, it probably wouldn't be enough. "It's nothing," was all you could muster out, and something in Lando snapped. 

He was so frustrated, he didn't know what to do with himself. He tried to tear his eyes away from you, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to look at your pretty face all day. But, he left you alone, returning to his maths. 

Lando couldn't focus though, and time seemed to move unbelievably slowly while he was waiting for the lesson to end so that he could talk to you in a less public space. The bell had rung after an agonising half an hour, but you were too quick for him to catch as you practically ran out of the classroom. 

He couldn't spot you as you walked through the corridors, since the hoards of people leaving their lessons obstructed his view. Darting out of school, he saw the bus waiting, and he was meant to be catching it, but he didn't care about that right now. 

On the other side of the road, he saw you walking down the pavement with your headphones stuffed in your ears. He had to jog across the road as he was nearly ran over by a van, but that was the least of his worries right now. 

"Y/N!" he called out after you, but you clearly hadn't heard him over your music. That wasn't going to going to deter him, however, as he continued to jog down the pavement and started walking next to you. "Y/N, talk to me," he said, slightly huffing as he finally got to slow down.

"Hm? Oh," you mumbled as you heard him beside you, not knowing what to say. You didn't want to push him away, but you didn't want to be like this anymore. 

"C'mon, tell me, I'm here, there's no one around, it's just you and me," he tried to convince you. Stopping and turning to look a him, he saw the tears welling up in your eyes again, and he still didn't know what to do. 

"You can't just be my friend again, then suddenly stop talking to me and not even tell me why," he ranted, his frustration seeping through his words. 

"Look, I don't think we should be friends, Lando." you said, and he felt like his heart had stopped beating in his chest. 

What the hell had triggered this? Why were you thinking like this? And why wouldn't you tell him what was going on? He hoped that this was just some spur of the moment thing, that you were just upset and acting on impulses.

God, he couldn't take this again. Not again, he wouldn't let you walk away from him again. He wouldn't lose you again. He had lost you once and it had been the worst few days of his recent memory, and he wasn't going to let you slip away that easily.

"No, no, don't do that. Don't do this to me, don't be stupid," he scoffed, waiting for you to crack a smile and tell him you were kidding and that you were just a bit on edge from something or another. The smile never came. 

"Why? Why the fuck are you coming to this conclusion?" he continued, but the tears just started to silently fall down your cheeks. 

"Me being associated with you just brings us both unwanted stress and upset. Your friends take the piss out of you, everyone seems to take the piss out of me and I can't do it Lando. You're brilliant but I just can't do this anymore," you sobbed, trying to walk away from him. 

"No, no, you can't say that and not tell me what someone said to you," he pressed, grabbing your wrist and tugging you back so that you couldn't walk away from him. "I know it was Lilly, but you've gotta tell me what she said to you."

"She... nothing," you stuttered, and Lando's patience was wearing very damn thin. 

"No, don't try pull that bullshit with me, I will not have it. You're going to give me one good fucking reason right now or I will lose it with you," he said through gritted teeth.

"She said that you don't actually want to be my friend and that you just use me to get better grades and it got me thinking and-"

"And what?" he cut you off, "You really believe a word that slimy bitch says? Sure, you helping me with my work is great, I won't deny that, but I spend time with you for you. And you wanna know why? Because I think you're amazing. You're funny, pretty and a hell of a lot smarter than anyone should be." he carried on, and he realised by your facial expression that he may have said more than he was meant to, but he didn't care at this point.

"You... huh?" you said, the words replaying over in your head.  Was he meant to say that or was he still just trying to keep you attached to him?

"I said I think you're amazing and you're more to me than just a tutor. You're my friend. Dare I say one of my favourites because you never take the piss out of me, you're always nice to me, and being around you makes me happy. And you're too smart to believe a word she says." he reaffirmed.

Your eyes searched his face for any trace of dishonesty, any hint of a lie. Yet, it they found nothing. Not a speck of chicanery in sight. He kept saying all this stuff, and it was supposed to be exactly what you needed to hear. Then why wasn't it?

"Were you and Lilly ever anything?" you asked, the question slipping past your lips before you could even find it in yourself to stop it. You didn't even know why you cared - well, you did. The stallion of jealousy was rearing its ugly head, and there was no way that you could suppress it.

You liked him, you liked him a lot. And, even if he had only had something fleeting with Lilly, it still would have upset you. 

"No." he sharply and quickly answered. "Why the fuck would I ever-" he started, before cutting himself off with a sigh. Getting annoyed at you wasn't the best approach, even if you were making it damn impossible not to. "No. No I never and will never have anything with her." he said. 

"But still, people are still awful to me and to you," you whispered, trying to hold back even more tears. 

"That doesn't matter, not to me. I don't give a shit what people think, I just give a shit about you." he pleaded, hoping and praying that you weren't going to turn around and leave him.

Despite the clear sincerity in his voice, you couldn't bring yourself to believe him. As much as you desperately wanted to believe him, you couldn't. You needed to believe him, but you couldn't. 

The worst part was was that you knew the notion was completely absurd, but you believed it anyway. "Please don't do this..." he whispered, moving his hands to hold you at the top of your arms. God, he didn't want you to go. Not again. 

"I'm sorry, Lando..." you mumbled, shrugging away from his grip and pushing your headphones back into your ears. With every step you took, it felt like another stab to his already broken heart. 

Lando closed his eyes, unable to watch you walk away from him. "I thought you were the smartest person I knew, but it turns out you're the fucking dumbest," he called out after you, his voice cracking on the words. 

It was mean, sure, but he didn't care. What he did care about wa the fact that the only girl he had ever had real feelings for was walking away from him, and there was seemingly nothing he could do to bring you back. Nothing. 

A/N - Already 5k into the next part of this, and I'm sorry, I know it felt like it was just getting better. Alas, we're getting there. And happy birthday Lando! He may piss me off to no end, but damn do I love writing about him 💖

tag list: @cheriladycl01 @ln4swiftie @mariedeyes223 @ironmaiden1313 @daemyraforever56

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I'm in love with this series!! Jay Todd, my beloved. Just, ah, the world building is so good, and the FEELINGS! Don't even get me started on the smut cause I was fr fanning my face. I talk about my fav parts below the cut!

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in.

Plsss, I'm swooning already. Love that she doesn't need the helmet to get shit done.

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before. “You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored.

Ah, I'm grinning! You can fr feel her confidence through the screen

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks. “I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

OOOHHHH!! Get him!! It's over for me. She has my heart and I'm buying her anything she wants

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds. “You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing.

!!! I've got heart eyes for this fr

Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

No notes. I love when two people are equally enthralled with each other

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway.

aw that's sweet but also only burners my girl? I worry for her lots

Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers.

I've decided that they're married, your honor. Just, ah, I love how quickly they entwine into each other lives! Just finding your person and knowing you want to be with them all the time, do everything and anything with them.

How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

Oh, it's so fine. They're absolutely just friends and there isn't anything more to it at all and they definitely don't see each other anything but platonic besties

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

I mean, I'd let her

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.” “Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress.

AHH, I'm losing it over this interaction!! and all of it done in each others arms!! INSANE!! It really shows how comfortable they are with each other. I just adore friends to lovers

Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her. Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

PLEASE! I'm drooling. Reader is better than me cause I would not have made it out of her apartment

Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure.

I actually love Jay's and Dick's sibling antics

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.” Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Misunderstanding of century!! But I am eating it up!!! Angst is my kryptonite

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor.

owwww. The heartbreak. The humiliation. I wanna sink my teeth into it

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.” “Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

GERRY! just, oww!! All of this is ow. Fr the pain reads so real and I'm devouring every line

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

Swooning. This angst is so sick and twisted (but in a good way, I swear)

“Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

CRUEL and UNUSUAL. I'll take fifteen

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced.  “These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

Plssss, chekhov's gun but it's the underwear I knew were gonna come back up. I looove it. And Jay being just as desperate has me feral!!

Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

hehe, The way I am giggling and twirling my hair

Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

I think I forgot how to blink reading this. my jaws on the ground

Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

!! They're nasty and I love them for it

“I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.” “Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

eee I'm obsessed with this!! The way I want to sink my nails into it and never let go. I looove they're dynamic fr. Sunnie you're actually feeding the Fem!Jason enjoyers soooo good 🥰💙

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[rothpie]

❝INHERITANCE❞|part1

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Marriage of Convenience; JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

Summary: The rebellious child of a noble family, the last hope, the one meant to carry on the family name. Your grandfather’s health was failing, and though you were expected to inherit everything, he had pulled away from you completely. Now, there was only one condition for you to receive his inheritance; to get your life in order, stop coming home late at night, give up drinking, and, of course his last wish—a marriage.

Warnings: kind of daddy issues, mentioning losing parent

selly's note: I'm so excited!!! hope you like it💗💗💗

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Parties had always been intriguing. For some, they were an escape from life; for others, a lifestyle. They were places where you’d run into everyone you knew or didn’t know. You always hoped they’d play good music, and when you walked in, you loved that moment when most eyes turned your way. Feeling their gazes, being the center of attention, being talked about—that was power. You couldn’t live without attention. Sure, everyone enjoys a little of it, but you craved it every moment.

You loved dancing wildly, drinking, and letting loose at parties. It was one of those rare times you’d truly disconnect from everything. Laughing crazily with your friends, getting close with a guy—it thrilled you. It was as if the world were ending and you were going out with a bang. Live fast, die young, right?

You were meant to live each day like it was your last. You were here to enjoy life, and you had no intention of stopping—because you wouldn’t stop. Today could be your last day.

It wasn’t just a behavior; it was a way of life.

And you were in love with it.

The future could wait; you had more important things to do now—like being young.

You loved the label of “party monster.” Even while listening to The Weeknd, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in the scene. You didn’t think you could live without partying—not at this point.

Most people didn’t matter much to you. Usually, you enjoyed drinking and hanging out with people your own age, soaking in the party vibes, watching people cannonball into pools, the beer pong games, seeing everyone try to drink from kegs. You loved being young.

No lie, you loved everything that came with youth—guys, the fun, the parties, sex, the yacht parties…

Even if you didn’t always prefer getting drunk, your body wasn’t exactly used to it. Strong drinks got you tipsy fast. Most times, you ended up having friends drop you off at home, or you’d wake up at some guy’s place you’d hooked up with. It didn’t matter. You never felt ashamed of one-night stands. Sex was just a part of life. And though you didn’t always like sneaking out quietly, you still did it.

Sticking around and getting emotional wasn’t your style. You hated the “What are we now?” question. You’d rather jump off a cliff than hear it.

Sometimes, though, you’d wake up at home, only to face your dad’s and grandfather’s disapproving stares. Most mornings, you’d stumble down to breakfast looking like a mess. Even after washing your face, your mascara and eyeliner would still smudge, the headache hitting hard—you looked fucked, no doubt.

But you were just a young girl who partied.

You might come home late, drink, be out most of the week, and practically treat the house like a hotel, but hey—at least you didn’t do drugs. That was an accomplishment, right?

You were just a girl.

Hanging out at the golf club didn’t interest you. You thought it was ridiculous, even though you were part of the Kook crowd. With so many things to do, golf? Really?

There was only one reason you’d stay out under the sun that long—tanning. Nothing else could keep you baking in the sun. Ever.

Most people at the golf club weren’t there for golf anyway. They’d wear their best outfits, spritz on perfume, do their makeup, and show up just to flaunt themselves. Some were hoping to score a date for the night, others looking for a potential spouse. The place was swarming with people trying to show off their wealth, a live version of a dating app. You hated it.

Waiting in line for a guy? 

You wouldn’t even look at someone who wasn’t interested in you from the start. Your guy had to be loyal. Chasing other women while pursuing you? Eliminated. Eyeing three other girls in the same room as you? Out. Walking alongside you and your best friends on the same beach? All three of you would kick him to the ass.

You never needed it. Your family name was known, and everywhere you went, you stood out. You didn’t need to make yourself known or put in extra effort to catch people’s attention.

You were already valuable. The brightest jewel on the island. The shiniest diamond.

You were noticeable even on the path you walked.

Still, your love life wasn’t exactly successful. You weren’t sure if it was by choice or if the guys on the island were just idiots. Either way, you always knew most of them were after your family name—maybe to get into the company, or for the benefits it would bring to their own families. It was always a letdown.

Looking back, you were grateful. Those experiences taught you something, and you were now certain none of them were worth a second thought. Your exes were terrible. Thank goodness you hadn’t given any of them your virginity.

One had been worse than the others. But at least he was handsome—and muscular, tall… Too bad he’d left the island.

You were never treated as the “heir” they wanted. Before you were even born, they’d wished for a boy. They’d wanted you to be a son. It was insulting. But you just preferred to think of it as saying, 'Too bad, bitches—I’m a girl!'

Thank heavens.

As a kid, you always wanted a sibling. So did your parents, especially a son to carry on the family line. But when your parents plans conflicted with God’s plans, there’s no telling what might happen.

Before you could have a sibling, you lost your mother. She was in the same car as your dad, and he was the only one who survived. When he refused to remarry, you were left as the family’s only grandchild.

No, you weren’t a boy. But you were still the one they had to trust to carry on the family line. You’d take over the company someday; you’d be the boss. They’d always made that clear. They let you be a kid for a while, but the moment you hit adolescence, the serious talks started. Because of the family’s public image, they always expected you to be polite and courteous. You were, of course.

But over time, these expectations became stricter, and as you felt more pressure from your family, your need for freedom grew.

As much as you loved the party life, you’d take over the company one day. That ambition was in you—it was just a matter of time. And until then, you’d live it up.

Who said girls can’t carry on the family name?

You were living proof, like millions of women out there. You had plenty of time before taking over the company, and for now, you were enjoying the moment. Future you could deal with the future. Why would you worry now?

At this age, you and Jada and Aaliyah were way too busy partying.

It had taken days for you all to decide on a birthday dinner over a party, if we’re honest. It was Jada’s 20th. It was a big deal, and you’d discussed a lot of options. But finally, she decided on a quiet celebration with her closest friends instead of a big party.

The reason was simple.

Her family had just bought a new home, and they’d made it clear they wanted no parties for a while. Jada was on board with that anyway. She didn’t want people throwing up on her new couches or couples making out all over her place.

Besides, she realized you could manage with a small, private party of your own.

First, you’d talked about doing it on a yacht, but Jada didn’t want to risk throwing up on a boat after drinking, not to mention the fear of falling overboard while drunk. It was very much something that would happen to her. She couldn’t stay stable on anything that moved.

After a lot of back-and-forth, Aaliyah came up with the idea of a dinner. She told you both to leave the details to her and picked the spot. Jada was thrilled.

She felt like she was getting a surprise party—although she knew it’d be just the three of you and was fully aware of the plan, she still acted clueless. Even on the way there, she acted like she had no idea why or where you were going—as if it wasn’t her birthday.

But neither you nor Aaliyah broke character. You both played along as if you were headed to the yacht. It became a little game between you.

“Girl, I swear—kisses to the chef won’t cut it! I need to go back to the kitchen and fuck him. If a man cooks like this, I owe him at least ten kids,” Aaliyah said, cracking you both up. Thanks to her, you had the best seats with a full view at Figure Eight’s top restaurant—prime Instagram Story material.

As you took a sip of your white wine, Aaliyah cleared her throat. You turned to her, smiling.

“Girl, you’ve lost it. What if the chef is, like, 54?” Aaliyah scrunched her face, and you joined in, pulling a face as Jada raised an eyebrow. She seemed incredulous. She took another bite before saying anything.

“You two are fucking idiot. Hugh Jackman’s 56, and I’d get in his bed in a heartbeat. I’m ready to be his personal whore.”

She had a point. If the chef looked as good as Hugh Jackman in his fifties, maybe he deserved a look, especially considering guys your age were nothing to brag about.

But still—the idea of dating, let alone sleeping with, a guy old enough to be your dad? That made you feel pretty gross. Just thinking about it made you cringe.

It was nasty.

Unless, of course, it was Hugh Jackman. For him, you'd practically sign up to be his broodmare.

After Jada threw out her little example, the silence stretched, and she looked at both of you with a smug grin. She’d laid down her final word. Period.

Spending time with these girls? Honestly, the best.

Aaliyah, right beside you, let out a dramatic sigh, catching your and Jada’s attention. When she put her hand to her mouth and dropped her fork, the two of you exchanged puzzled, worried glances. Was something wrong? But just as you started to feel real concern, Aaliyah moved her hand and started talking. “I cannot believe I forgot to tell you!”

For a moment, you were seriously worried about her, but quickly you realized that what she’d forgotten was merely a juicy piece of gossip. Which, for the three of you, was life-or-death level serious. If it wasn’t something major, there’s no way she’d be reacting like this. You dropped your fork, grabbing your wine glass as you turned to her. Jada followed suit, shaking her head with a hint of annoyance. “Girl, you’d better mean this in a good way, or I’m throwing you over the railing. You just freaked us out.”

Aaliyah tucked her hair behind her ears, her face breaking into a huge grin. She knew she was holding gold. This might just be the gossip of the year.

After clearing her throat, she looked at the two of you with sparkling eyes. “First off, I heard this from my mom. The whole island doesn’t know yet, but soon enough, everyone will. So we’re like, one of the first. Do you realize how big this is?” Aaliyah took a deep breath, savoring your expectant stares. She was clearly pleased at how primed you both were.

If she held back any longer, you were about to discover telepathy.

“You guys know the Rodolp's, right? They have a son our age, Harry. Apparently, Mr. Rodolph has been coming home later and later, and eventually it came out—he’s cheating on Mrs. Rodolph.” Gossip-wise, you were unimpressed. Who cared about middle-aged infidelity? Cheating on your wife of forty years was just... gross.

“I can see it on your faces. Hold on. Apparently, the person he’s seeing is someone our age.” Now that was interesting.

You turned fully to her, a mischievous grin growing on your face. “Girl, you’d better give us more. I’m dying of suspense here.” Jada nodded in agreement, pointing to you as she puckered her lips. “Right on the money, babe.”

“Do you remember our last year? That term when we mostly had classes together? Biology class, with Liliana. Apparently, Mr. Rodolph is fooling around with Liliana from biology. And it gets even worse—Liliana and Harry are dating. The guy is cheating on both his wife and his son, with his son’s girlfriend.”

Aaliyah was a fucking queen.

You and Jada were on the verge of screaming. If you’d been at home, you two would’ve been shrieking your heads off, but since you were in a restaurant, you both had to clench your teeth to avoid an outburst. This scandal was going to be the talk of the town for months, and thank heavens it had come your way first.

“Damn… Double homicide.”

Leaning back with pride, Aaliyah pointed to herself, clearly reveling in her role. She looked like she’d just swept every major award.

Best Gossip in the Game.

That award was hers. She deserved it.

After that, things settled down a bit. You went back to eating as Aaliyah filled you in on the divorce proceedings, how Harry was firmly on his mom’s side, and any other spicy detail she had on the Rodolph's situation. Jada blew out her birthday candle, and you handed over your gifts—she was thrilled. With a designer bag in one hand and a diamond necklace around her neck, she struggled not to scream from excitement, kissing each of you about a thousand times.

The rest of the evening felt like the perfect girl’s night. You laughed, gossiped, had a blast—until the food was gone and the alcohol intake was way too high.

No one expected to get that drunk. You were pretty sure Aaliyah had promised to only have a little, yet you were positive she had polished off a bottle herself. Jada? She didn’t even pretend; she kept saying it was her birthday and she was entitled to it. She wasn’t wrong.

At one point, Jada even contemplated going into the kitchen to hunt down the chef. She nearly got up but couldn’t decide if she should carry her new bag or stick with her regular one. She added something about 22 or 52 looking no different in her eyes.

And you? Every moment with these girls was priceless. You were making new memories to look back on, imagining them as your kids’ honorary aunts, and then as their kids’ aunts too. Best friends for life.

None of you stopped drinking. You egged each other on, shot after shot, until you lost count.

At the end of the night—you were all completely hammered.

How you got home, who paid the bill, who drove? No clue. You opened your eyes the next morning in your own bed, with a throbbing headache. You felt as if you hadn’t had water in forty-eight hours, and your stomach was burning. You wanted to just lay down on the cool floor. Hangovers like this were the worst.

Sitting up, you reached for your phone. The group chat was lighting up with notifications. When you opened it, you saw that Jada and Aaliyah were already awake, talking about just how far things had gone last night. Jada was still going on about the chef. You’d really gone too far.

It was supposed to be a normal dinner, celebrating Jada’s 20th birthday. A night to hug each other, share some love, then go home—naturally, you’d gone way beyond that.

After reading about Aaliyah getting scolded by her mom, you set your phone back on the bed, unable to deal with more notifications with your throbbing head. You’d text them back later. As much as you loved the wild nights, you hated the mornings after.

To snap yourself out of it, you headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. You were sure you reeked of alcohol, which you absolutely despised. Smelling bad was practically the worst thing you could think of. You had to smell good, always. The shower didn’t take long, and after you got out, you brushed your teeth and went back to your room. You wrinkled your nose at the lingering smell of alcohol.

You opened the windows, threw on some casual workout clothes, and as you brushed your hair, you couldn’t help but think how much you loved being a girl. The self-care, the hair products, all the creams… how do guys even go without this stuff?

What the fuck do they even talk about? How do they survive missing out on all this?

You couldn’t. It was baffling.

Once you were done, you left your hair damp and headed out of your room.

As you were about to enter the living room, three men in suits caught your eye as they exited. Instead of finding your dad and grandfather seated as usual, you noticed your father standing by the window, gazing out over the view, while your grandfather was settled in an armchair, tapping a pen rapidly.

"Good morning," you said, hesitating slightly. Things were always tense in these situations—you were used to it. They didn’t approve of your lifestyle. They might even consider it… unbecoming. And you got it to an extent, but the tension was draining. You’d always hated it.

“More like good afternoon, dear.” Your grandfather’s voice was gentle, but you sensed the sarcasm. He wasn't pleased. Classic.

Just as you were about to respond, you saw your dad turn away from the window. He rubbed his face with his hands, his eyes settling on you with a look so intense it ignited a spark of dread in your gut.

What the fuck was going on?

“Would you like to sit down?” Your grandfather’s voice broke the gaze you held with your dad. You immediately took the seat across from him, catching a hint of a smile on his face. Yet it wasn’t warm. It was an unsettling grin, one that made you feel… uneasy.

You did not like this. Not a bit.

Your dad moved to stand between you and your grandfather, arms crossed. But now he wasn’t even looking at you.

“You never understood.” Your grandfather’s voice cut through, and your brow furrowed. You hated this strained atmosphere. You wanted to get up and leave. But you knew you wouldn’t.

"I’ve tried to help you understand; your father has tried. You’re twenty years old. What are you even living for?”

Okay, now you were officially starting to worry. Your grandfather’s tone, the whole approach—he seemed to be trying to soften the blow. And that, somehow, was even worse. Right now, you hated everything about this.

“You used to be a kid with straight As, despite those odd habits of yours. You didn’t want to go to college; we let it slide. You carry yourself with a confidence that can only come from knowing you’ll always be cushioned. No lie, it’s true.” His smirk widened as he placed the pen down on the coffee table and leaned back.

You’d rarely felt fear in your life. With your father and grandfather behind you, the family name erased any need to be afraid. Your last name was its own protection.

You’d always known that whatever happened, you’d come out fine. That’s why you’d never been scared.

But now? Now your body was nearly trembling. This wasn’t like the usual lecture about your carelessness, or how thoughtless you could be. It was always that same song and dance. But today, they’d taken it somewhere new.

You couldn’t help but be scared.

“So we expected, at the very least, that you’d learn from your mistakes. But it’s clear that’s not happening. You need something to wake you up—a push. And we’ve found one. Until you prove yourself, you won’t receive even a single percent of your inheritance.”

What?

Did he just—did he really just say you were cut off?

As if you didn’t carry the family name? As if you weren’t his grandchild? There was no one else in line for this inheritance. If he left it to your dad, it would still go to you eventually.

So, just because you were young, he was really taking away your rights? This was your birthright! What you did—it wasn’t some rebellion, wasn’t meant as a statement. You didn’t act this way because—

This was your birthright…

Your grandfather started coughing suddenly, his frail body rattling with each hack. Your father moved quickly to his side, and you got up as well. But he raised his hand to stop you both. A helper came to wheel him out of the room, his chair squeaking slightly on the floor. Watching him leave, you replayed his words in your mind, trying to make sense of it.

It was impossible. This was your birthright! How could he just strip it from you?

“You’ve gone too far,” your dad spoke, fixing you with a look that felt like a fireball about to explode. You wanted to lash out, to yell, to demand that this decision be taken back. But the words didn’t come.

“You came home last night like a disaster. Do you know how hard I had to fight to keep him from cutting off your credit cards?” He shook his head, his voice rough. “You’re going to fix this. You’re going to restore your image in his eyes, because right now, you are anything but the girl he wants you to be.” Your hands went to your wet hair, squeezing in frustration. You wished this was all a nightmare, that you were still sleeping.

“What do you want from me, Dad? Should I become some kind of church girl?” Your voice had risen without you realizing it, and you quickly quieted down. You hated feeling cornered, hated this situation, hated everyone—everything.

And those credit cards… if they were cut off, there’d be nothing left for you. And now, losing your future inheritance entirely? It was catastrophic. It wasn’t like you wanted your grandfather dead; you loved him, outdated as he was. But this felt so unfair… You hated every bit of it.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes!” Your dad’s voice snapped you back to reality, his tone so firm it reminded you of being ten years old, on the verge of crying because you hadn’t gotten your way. “Your grandfather is ready to leave the money to the government, do you understand? No—look at me. Let this sink in. Money, property, the company—everything. Fix this. He got married at twenty. It’s practically a miracle he hasn’t lost his mind with you staying out all night, bringing home God knows who. You’re going to fix this, understand?”

You found yourself nodding automatically.

The way he was using this inheritance as a punishment was disgusting. Leaving it all to the government—now that was a nightmare. You did not want that.

“Can’t you… Can’t you change his mind?” you asked, voice low. Your father gave you a look like you’d just spoken in a foreign language. He took a few quick steps forward, disbelief on his face. He was furious that you still seemed unwilling to accept this reality.

“Do I look like I haven’t tried?” His voice was hard, his expression angry. He was holding back to avoid drawing attention. Neither of you wanted this conversation getting back to your grandfather. “If you want the money, you’re going to stop spending your nights out like some fool. Yes, actually, a church girl wouldn’t be a bad idea. Hell, maybe even get married if you need to, I don’t know! Just make him happy! I’m not the one causing this mess!”

Your hands pressed against your head as you closed your eyes, feeling the weight of it all. You tried to think. Even if you did all of this, how did you know your grandfather would ever change his mind? Maybe he’d never truly approve…

When you opened your eyes to speak, you found an empty room.

Of course—your dad had left.

[wren-kitchens]

i will hurt you, almost definitely (ask the people who have left me)

1454 words

the chests in the barn aren't the most comfortable of chairs, but gem is just making do, anyway. she's been staring at the scratch in the mangrove that she's pretty sure is from when mumbo took all their torches for about ten minutes now, mind entirely elsewhere. there's nothing- it- she's not sure. but.. she and joel seem to be on-track to winning this whole thing. so the question isn’t how will they win—because frankly she's pretty sure they've got it covered if they just keep doing whatever it is they’re doing—it's what happens next. because- it's terrifying to think that gem would have to repeat history, and she's sure- she's almost certain that she won't. they'd- if they both get to the end, they'll find a way to do it fairly. they'll- they could make another fight club. and then- then it's fair. neither of them will betray each other, she's- gem is almost sure.

yea I wrote this in about a day I think I was possessed by the spirit of toxic yuri

i'm not too great at writing arguments yet so if it feels awkward or rushed just pretend it doesn't tyty

here is part two!!

the chests in the barn aren't the most comfortable of chairs, but gem is just making do after all. she's been staring at the scratch in the mangrove that she's pretty sure is from when mumbo took all their torches for about ten minutes now, mind entirely elsewhere. there's nothing- it- she's not sure. but.. she and joel seem to be on-track to winning this whole thing. so the question isn’t how will they win—because frankly she's pretty sure they've got it covered if they just keep doing whatever it is they’re doing—it's what happens next.

because- it's terrifying to think that gem would have to repeat history, and she's sure- she's almost sure that she won't. they'd- if they both get to the end, they'll find a way to do it fairly. they'll- they could make another fight club. and then- then it's fair. neither of them will betray each other, she's- gem is almost sure.

gem never really.. forgot what that was like. the image of pearl's face, stony and serious in the way it never is, circles in her mind every minute of every day, coupled with that agonising aching in gem's chest as she realised what that expression meant for her- for them. the way pearl spoke- as if she didn’t even know- of course she didn't want to- how could she even think-

there's a kind of creaking that doesn’t feel familiar, and gem stays as still as she can, listening as the noise seems to move. it's above her, she realises with a jolt, in the attic. gem pulls out her sword, slowly and silently, tensing as she hears the gentle sound of footsteps descending the ladder behind her. she's died once today, and that is absolutely enough for her- whoever this intruder may be is in for an unpleasant surprise.

the sound of a sword unsheathed, and within an instant, gem's blade flies to meet pearl's- and something in her burns. gem pushes herself off the chests, fighting with an intensity she hasn't needed to use since secret life; pearl clearly wasn't expecting it, if the look on her face is anything to go by. it takes but a few moments for gem to disarm her, sword at her throat, panting.

"once wasn't enough?" gem says, and something shifts in pearl's expression. "or is this some kind of tradition now?"

pearl is grinning, as if she has any right. "c'mon, I had to give it a shot, didn't I? yellow and all- who else was I going to kill?"

anger bubbles up in gem's chest, and she swipes her sword at pearl's face- slicing a clean cut across her cheek. "you’re just asking to be red, aren't you?"

it appears that pearl didn’t expect anything other than banter—and maybe she didn't expect to win in the first place—because it takes her a moment to recover. she dabs a hand against the cut, and blinks in surprise when her fingers come back bloody. "I- y’know, I didn't do it to hurt you-"

"kill me?" gem says, voice sharper than she expected it to be. "you didn’t kill me to hurt me-"

"I didn't fight you because I wanted you to die, I fought you because I wanted scar to live." pearl pushes herself to her feet, grin gone from her face. "I couldn’t have both-"

"you could have let it be fair." gem's voice breaks a little, even as it rings through the still air. "you just- you just sacrificed yourself for him, you didn't let me have a chance."

pearl takes a breath. "I wanted him to win-"

"oh- and I bet he thanks you for that!" gem throws her arms out. "you- he was- do you even know?"

"so you wanted that fate?" pearl demands, and gem is pulled up short. "is that what this is about- you wanted to be stuck in purgatory for a year? is that it?" 

gem rakes a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "of course I didn't-"

"so why is it a problem?" pearl half laughs, and gem notices that the sword has left her hand. "you- you don't want to have won- what else is there?"

"I thought we were friends." gem says, and it's not quite a lie. her chest aches as she watches pearl's expression shift into that stupid sympathetic look everyone has given her whenever she says that. 

everyone but joel. he gets it- more than she thought he would.

"we are friends, I just-"

"no, you don't- you don’t get to do that." gem takes a step forward. "you don’t get to- to spout the same shit i’ve heard from everyone else. 'it's just the games', 'you guys are still friends'- no, you broke my trust."

pearl gives a helpless sigh. "I don’t- what else do you want me to say? you’re-"

"if you say 'new' I will rip your throat out." gem says through bared teeth. "weren't you?"

pearl blinks, gaze darting to the side- to the exit. "I- what?" 

gem finds herself moving unconsciously- to block any kind of escape pearl might have. her heart claws at her ribs. "when scott left you? the person  you were supposed to trust- did that hurt? or were you just new?"

"gem," pearl takes a step backwards. "what- what are you getting at here?"

there are tears in her eyes, and gem blinks them away. "I thought you’d get it. you- you lived it, I thought you’d stay."

"it's not the same thing." pearl's voice is harsher now- gem hit a nerve. 

"it's close enough." gem says, fists clenched, shoulders tense. "it's close enough that you should know how much it hurts." 

pearl shakes her head, moving in a way that's almost pacing, but far too jerky and disordered to quite count. there's a stab of regret, and gem hates herself for it. "no. no, it's- that is not the same. he- he left me- i’d done nothing-"

"what did I do?" gem's voice wavers, and she can’t help it. "did-" she can barely finish, and she hates it. "did I do something to you?"

"it- we were soulmates." pearl says, a little more certain- a little more confident that gem can’t find an argument for that. "you and I.." she hesitates, no longer as sure.

gem exhales shortly. "did you- was I not as important?" 

all of a sudden, pearl snaps. "can you just let it go?" she demands, and gem flinches. "it was a year ago- that's just how it goes, okay? why are you so- so fixated on it?"

and before gem can even think about what she's doing- "because I love you!" she yells, and the words echo through the room as if they were in a cave. 

pearl is staring at her as if she'd just stabbed herself in the chest, and gem feels extinguished. "so is that- is that good enough for you?" there are tears falling down her face, and she can’t bring herself to care about it. "is that- is that close enough to soulmates? do you want me to elaborate about how it felt, or can you just agree that it fucking hurt when you killed me like I was nothing."

"so- so you can go back to your impulse, and your cleo, and your scott." gem spits, wiping her eyes. "and you can- you can pretend you’re their loyal dog, and you and scott can do what you always do and die before things get hard and call it a noble sacrifice." gem pushes the gate open. "but I don't want to see you again until i’m the one taking you out of the series." 

"I- gem-" pearl catches her wrist, and gem has her sword out before she's even fully turned around.

her hand shakes, but her gaze is steely. pearl is crying too, and a part of gem just wants to give in and pull her close- but it's only a small part. "pearl, you know me too well to think i'm bluffing."

pearl takes a short breath, and drops gem's hand. as gem lowers her sword, pearl slips out of the back entrance and disappears into the night. gem watches as she runs across the bridge, into the woods, until her silhouette is indistinguishable from the shadows cast by the birch trees- and gem crumples to the floor.

the moon is high in the sky by the time joel finds her there, and the sun is up by the time gem has stopped crying. but there's something in the centre of her chest, something burning red—and there's something else too.

gem is going to win this game.

[cyarikaplease]

if i could give you the moon

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You move into a new neighborhood and decide to join the local YMCA to meet people, bringing you to Joel Miller and his wife, Liz. You develop a small crush on him, keeping it to yourself. But when he reveals to you that he’s in open marriage, you decide to take a chance on him, no matter the consequences.

Warnings: lots of angst and smut

You’re standing in a long line at the YMCA waiting to sign up for a membership. It’s kind of crowded and you’re wondering if this is a bad idea. But then again the Y is so close to your new apartment. It would be kind of pointless to sign up for a membership somewhere else that’s farther away and probably more expensive. So you wait until it’s your turn. The woman sitting at the desk hands you your little YMCA card for your keychain and says, “The gym is upstairs and the pool is down the hallway on the left. Both have locker rooms attached.”

You nod and head down the hallway, pushing past the doors into the pool room. The strong scent of chlorine hits your nose as you enter and your feet make a splish sound when you walk on the wet tile. You spot the door to the locker room on the other side of the pool, scanning the room as you do but trying to make it not look like you’re staring at people. The truth is you just want friends. You’re new to the community and eager to make friends. And the Y seemed like a great starting point for new friendships. 

It seems to be mainly women at the pool today which makes you feel a little more comfortable. You go into the locker room and change into your swimsuit. And that’s when you meet a woman a little older than you named Liz who’s using a locker two spots down from you.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” she says, not looking at you while she changes into her swimsuit. 

“Just joined today,” you respond. 

“I’m Liz Miller,” she says, turning to you and holding out her hand, “My husband and I come here.”

You tell her your name and ask, “Do you live in the neighborhood?”

“A few streets over. You?”

“My building’s two blocks away.”

“Nice. Are you new in town?”

“Ahh so you don’t know anyone. Well I’ll be your swimming buddy today.”

“Sounds good to me,” you tell her, following her back out to the pool.

You get in the pool without needing to adjust to the temperature; it’s already pretty warm. You swim laps with Liz, stopping occasionally to talk in between. Your eyes burn from the chlorine and you make a mental note to pick up goggles. She tells you about her husband, Joel. He works in construction and she works in advertising. She’s leaving for a work trip tonight for two weeks in New York City. Your first friend and she’s already leaving for two weeks. Looks like it's back to square one for now. Eventually it’s time for her to go and you’re feeling a little winded anyway. You get changed back into your t-shirt and gym shorts in the locker room and skip using their shower. You live two blocks away so what’s the point in showering here. You walk back out to the lobby together and that’s when you meet Joel. 

You’re taken aback for a moment at just how good looking he is, even under the shitty fluorescent lights in the lobby. His hair is a little damp, presumably from sweating after a good workout. His facial hair is a bit patchy but it’s endearing.  His warm brown eyes feel like they’re staring directly into your soul as he shakes your hand, his touch lingering just a little too long. But Liz doesn’t seem to notice. You notice that he’s not wearing his wedding band although Liz is wearing hers. Maybe he just forgot to put it back on after working out? It’s a shame he’s married because he’s totally your type. But you’re just glad to have two new acquaintances. 

“Now you have two familiar faces here,” Liz says, smiling at you. 

The three of you walk out to the parking lot together but they go to separate cars. You get the sense that they don’t seem like a couple that’s codependent on each other. Or they both came here straight from their jobs. Who are you to judge? You just met them. You have no idea what the dynamic of their relationship is like.

You walk home as the sun starts to set. It’s a warm evening in late June and the Y membership is about to come in handy when you need to cool off from scorching summer heat. You go home and take a shower before winding down for the evening and heading off to bed.

Work goes by pretty slowly the next day. You’re anxious to swim or even work out in the gym to exert some of your stress. You’re also just eager for a chance to make more friends. You come from work and change into work out clothes, bringing your swimsuit with you in your bag. You walk to the Y and contemplate working out in the gym but opt for the pool instead. You change in the locker room and step into the pool. It’s pretty dead tonight. There’s only 3 other people swimming in this ginormous pool with you. You swim a few laps by yourself before getting bored and deciding to leave. But as you get out of the pool you notice none other than Joel Miller walking through the door on the other side of the room. He catches you looking at him and immediately walks directly towards you. You feel a little self conscious for a moment at the fact that you’re greeting him in your sopping wet swimsuit that’s clinging to your body. 

“Hey, how are you?” he smiles. 

“I’m alright! Did Liz leave last night?”

“She did. She left around one in the morning.”

“Damn that’s late. Aren’t you tired from driving her to the airport?”

“Nah, she took a taxi.”

Maybe your suspicions about them not being codependent were right afterall?

“But anyway I came to check on you before I left for the night.”

“You’re sweet. I was just about to change and leave, too.”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby,” he says, gesturing back towards the door.

“Uh, sure! I won’t be too long,” you say before turning and walking to the locker room, maybe speedwalking just a tad. For some reason you got the sense he was staring at your ass as you walked but you didn’t dare turn around and look. You dry off and change into your clothes hastily before walking to meet Joel in the lobby, butterflies swelling in your stomach for some reason. 

You meet him in the lobby with a big smile on his face, drinking in the sight of you with your flushed and hair wet. 

“Get a good workout in?” he asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“I did. It was a lighter workout for me today.”

“That’s nice… Well I’ll see you around?”

“Mind if I walk you home?”

You’re taken aback at first because why would he want to do that? But then age you don’t know the neighborhood that well yet and it is getting dark out. But you also only live two blocks away so what’s the point of him walking you home. 

But before you can contemplate it even more you say yes. 

And so you’re walking to your apartment side by side, not really saying anything at first until you can’t bear the uncomfortable silence anymore. You make small talk until you reach your building.

“Well, this is me,” you say, stopping in front of the door to your apartment building.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” he asks.

“Uhh not much. I have a new bookshelf I’ve been meaning to build since I moved in. Maybe I’ll start that tonight?”

“I can help with that,” he says, taking a step towards you. 

You gulp at the idea of Joel Miller alone with you in your apartment. This really isn’t a good idea. But he’s the one who offered. And you can have him leave straight after it’s done. 

“S-sure,” you say.

You lead him through the hallways and flights of stairs in your building until you reach your place. You slide the key into the lock and go inside, holding the door open for him as he enters. 

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess. I’m still not one hundred percent moved in yet,” you say, feeling a little self conscious at the state of your apartment. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” he shrugs, “Now where’s this bookshelf?”

You bring him into your bedroom of all places and point to the flat cardboard box leaning against the wall.

“There. As you can see I haven’t even attempted it.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckles.

You sit on the edge of your bed as he goes to work. You watch him construct your bookshelf little by little before you ask if he needs anything.

“Want a bottle of water?” you ask, rising from the bed. 

“Sure,” he says, looking up at you from his position on your floor.

You go into your kitchen and grab a cold bottle of water from your fridge. You go back into your bedroom and crouch down on the floor to hand it to him. And that’s when he locks eyes with you, staring at you intently until his lips suddenly come crashing into yours. 

You pull away immediately and shout, “What the hell?! You’re married! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Hey,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’m in an open marriage.”

You raise your eyebrow in disbelief but before you can say anything he speaks first.

“I’m being completely serious,” he says, his big brown eyes pleading with you.

It’s not completely unbelievable. Some of your friends were in open relationships. You yourself have never been in one and you’ve never been with someone that is. But deep down, you want him and he seems sincere. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before I just did that. I understand if you want me to leave,” he says, starting to get up.

You sigh.

“No you can stay… but you’re right, that would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

“Does that mean I can do it again?” he whispers, his eyes searching your face for an answer.

You close your eyes and the butterflies swell in your stomach again. Somewhere in your mind there’s a small voice telling you this is a bad idea. But it’s small enough that you ignore it.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He lips meet yours again as he presses you against the edge of your bed. His tongue grazes your lips, begging you for access. And when you give it to him his tongue explores your mouth as his hands caress your face. You kiss him back and slip him a little tongue, too, but it's clear that he wants to be the dominant one. You give in and let him as his mouth, face and hands completely overtake you. He pulls away for a moment and you two look into each other’s eyes. Almost as if you’re reading each other’s minds you both stand up and move to the bed. You lay down and your chlorine crusted hair splays out on the pillow. You silently wish you got to shower and shave before this happened. A sexual encounter with your new acquaintance was not in the plans for tonight. 

He pulls his shirt over his head and removes his shorts before hovering over you. You take in the sight of his naked body, tanned skin peppered with beauty marks. His legs are toned and muscular just like the rest of him. But what he does have is a small pudgy belly that maybe doesn’t particularly match the rest of his physique but is still attractive nonetheless. His large hands move up your thigh and underneath your shorts. He slides them off in one fluid motion and moves down to your thighs, spreading them open. He drinks in the sight of your cunt rapidly getting wet in anticipation for his touch. He bends down and licks one long, slow streak up all the way up to your clit. And that’s when you ask, “Are you sure? I didn’t get a chance to shower after swimming…”

“Don’t care,” he murmurs against your core, sending vibrations through you.

You shudder at the sensation and let him continue, relaxing a little. His tongue works small slow circles around your clit as you raise your hips a little, pressing them more on his face in response to his touch. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you even closer into him. With his arms around your thighs you can’t squirm as much but that also lets him press his lips, tongue and nose directly into your cunt, bringing you closer to orgasm. You cum against his face, coating him with your release, soaking his nose, lips, chin… practically the whole lower half of his face. He laps up the rest of your juices before bringing his face by yours.

“You taste so good, darlin’. Ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

You feel your cheeks go hot at his praise. He goes to take off his shorts and asks, “Did you want me to use a condom?” 

“That’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you say, still feeling a little breathless.

He chuckles at the post orgasm inflection in your voice and says, “Okay, darlin’.”

You spread your legs for him and he gathers your release from your cunt on his fingers. You shudder at the sensation. He slicks his already hard cock and aligns himself with your entrance, thrusting into you slowly until you take all of his length. His hands grasp your waist as he begins to fuck you relentlessly, burying his cock deep into you with each slam of his hips. He showers you in praise, telling you how you’re such a good girl for taking his cock so well. All you can do is moan and whimper in response. 

You’re sure your neighbors can hear between the creaks of your bed frame, both of your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. But you’re entirely too blissed out to care. With one last forceful motion of his hips against yours you come undone, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Your orgasm pulsates through your core and sends shockwaves throughout your body. Before both of you know it he’s releasing his load inside you, painting your inside in thick ropes of cum as he lets out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you and immediately starts apologizing but you just laugh.

“That’s what the pill’s for,” you chuckle. 

He lays down next to you on the bed and already starts yawning. 

“You can crash here if you want,” you say, “But you owe me a finished book shelf in the morning,” you chuckle. 

“Whatever you want, darlin’. Tomorrow’s my day off,” he murmurs against you, the sleepiness evident in his voice. 

“Deal,” you whisper, before drifting off to sleep yourself. 

You wake up the next morning wrapped in bedsheets and the scent of Joel Miller as he sleeps pressed against you. The realization of last night’s decisions is setting in and while the anxiety in your gut rises, something about it also feels so right. You peel yourself off of him and go to the bathroom. He stirs and wakes up watching your naked form from behind as he whistles at the sight. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, “Hope you’re ready to build that bookshelf.”

“Oh I’ll get right on it, darlin’,” he says, sneaking up on you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean back against him and close your eyes. All of your anxieties and hangs ups about the situation melt away as he holds you in front of your bathroom mirror. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and goes to work on your bookshelf. You make him a cup of coffee and bring it to him after you brush your teeth. He gets the bookshelf done in no time and the two of you are left with the rest of your Saturday, completely free. You decide to take a shower together, washing each other in this new form of intimacy. You realize he doesn’t have any other clothes to change into so that’s when he has the idea to walk back to the Y, pick up his truck and head back to his house. You throw on your clothes and get ready to walk back to his truck, silently hoping the parking lot wouldn’t be too busy this morning. What would people say if they saw you two walking to his truck together? If he’s in an open marriage, though, does it even matter?

Before you leave he says, “You stay here. I’ll come back for you.”

You nod and wait for him in the lobby of your building. He pulls up front and you hop in the passenger seat. Awkward silence fills the drive until you get to his house. He brings you inside and leads you to his bedroom. You look at the pictures of him and Liz while he packs. You’re staring at a wedding photo when you think to ask, “So how long have you been in an open marriage?”

He pauses for a moment and says, “Only about a year. I found out she was cheating on me and I proposed the idea of an open marriage instead of getting a divorce.”

You’re conflicted. You feel bad for him that he went through that but he also seems happy now, content with his decision on an open marriage as far as you can tell. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “That must’ve been really hard for you.”

“It was,” he replies, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “But I’m doing much better now. I don’t tell a lot of people about the open marriage, though. My friends and family still don’t know because it’ll open a whole line of questioning as to how we got here. And then I’ll have to tell them how she cheated on me and I just… I don’t think I can do that.”

He sounds hurt; betrayed. You turn around to face him and meet his eyes, filled with sadness, and say, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he whispers before kissing you, “Come on. Let’s go have a fun weekend together. I packed enough clothes to get me to work Monday morning.”

“Okay,” you nod, following him back down the stairs. 

At least they don't have kids, you think to yourself. That would make this situation about a million times messier. 

You get back his truck and drive back to your place, the tension in the air dissipated after his heartfelt confession. You spend the rest of the weekend together going through a cycle of fucking, watching TV, showering and talking. You learn so much about him and his background; his family, where he grew up, what he does for a living. He tells you everything and you feel you can tell him everything, too. The connection you feel with him is one you’ve never felt with anyone else before. It almost makes you forget for a moment that he’s married to another woman. 

But now it’s Monday and your fun weekend with Joel has come to an end. He has two long days at work ahead of him so you can’t go to the Y together until Wednesday night. You’re a little sad but you get it. He can’t spend all of his waking hours with you. The next two days drag on and after you get home from work you find yourself feeling lonely. And it doesn’t help that your sheets smell like him. 

But after two agonizingly slow days you finally get to see him again. You walk to the Y with a little pep in your step at the thought of seeing him again. You find him in the lobby and he greets you with a smile.

“I thought I’d swim with you today instead,” he says. 

“Sure,” you tell him before both of you walk to the pool room together, separating as each of you enter your respective locker rooms. You change quickly and meet him by the pool which by some miracle was completely empty tonight. You get in the pool with him and swim a few laps but mainly the two of you spend time messing around. Until he pulls you close and looks you in the eye. The heat of the pool room and his hot breath are almost too much to bear. But then he kisses you and suddenly you forget all about how you are. The kiss grows more and more passionate and you start to worry that someone will walk in and see.  You pull away to tell him to stop but he grabs your hand and leads up the pool steps. 

“What are you doing?” you ask as your bare feet hit the slick tile. 

“Going somewhere more private,” he says leading you to the single stall bathroom on the same wall as the locker rooms. 

“Here?” you question him.

“Why not? It’s empty tonight,” he says, opening the bathroom door, “Ladies first.”

You go in the bathroom and he follows you, locking the door behind him. He wastes no time reaching for the strap of your swimsuit and peeling it off of you. He slides off his swim trunks and you bring your hand to his cock, caressing it lightly to tease him.

“You’re killin’ me, darlin’. Please,” he whispers by your ear.

You giggle and give into him, wrapping as much of your hand as you can around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his eyes in pleasure. 

You love making him feel good and you especially love when he vocalizes it. You spit in your hand and stroke him more, picking up the pace. But before he can finish he stops you and licks his fingers, bringing them to the entrance of your cunt and teasing you this time. You whine at the featherlight touch and beg for more. 

“Doesn’t feel so good huh darlin’?” he teases. 

“Please,” you whine. 

“Fine,” he sighs, sounding fake annoyed before pushing a finger into you slowly. 

You lean back against the sink and spread your legs wider for him, begging for more. He gets off on watching you writhe in pleasure from just one finger before slipping in another. He curls them upwards, emitting soft moans from you as he brings you closer to the edge. But before you can cum he pulls them out of you and slathers his cock with your wetness. You whine at the sudden absence but you’re cut off by the sensation of his cock slamming into you. Your breath hitches and he watches you get adjusted to his size, eyes scanning up and down your body from your face to your tits to your cunt gripping his cock. He supports you against the edge of the sink and pumps into you with more force. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly with every slam of his hips. You know you’re not going to last long between that and the adrenaline of fucking in a public space. Your orgasm washes over you as your cunt grips and releases his cock like a vice. He releases his load into you and you’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum coating your insides. He pulls out of you and places a sloppy kiss on your lips before whispering, “Good girl.”

He helps you stand on your feet and you both go to put your swimsuits back on. 

“I’ll go first, okay?” he says. 

You nod and he swiftly leaves the bathroom, locking the door behind him. You wait a few minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to a thankfully empty pool room. 

“Change and go home?” he says, looking over at you.

You nod and go into the locker room to change, in disbelief that this is your life and that Joel Miller just fucked you in a bathroom at the Y. This would become your routine for the next two weeks until Liz comes home, fucking at the Y, your place and even his. Something about doing it as his house felt slightly wrong though. And you know exactly why but you choose to bury that feeling. 

It’s the night before Liz comes home from her work trip and you’re at your apartment, spending one last night together until he has to go home to his wife. 

“When will we do this again?” you ask hopefully. 

“I’ll let you know when, darlin’,” he says with the gentlest tone. 

You nod and your stomach starts to hurt, worrying at the possibility that this was it for the two of you. 

Liz is officially home and you’ll see her at the pool tonight. You have mixed feelings about it. Two weeks ago you would’ve been excited to reunite with your new friend. But now after learning everything you know you’re not sure about how you feel about her. 

You walk to the Y and your legs feel like jelly. You’re also nervous to face her again after everything that happened with you and Joel and it makes you wonder… Did he tell her about the two of you? Is he planning on it if he hasn’t already? Regardless, you're not going to be the one to tell her. He’s the one married to her; he can do it himself. 

She greets you with a warm smile in the locker room, commenting about how she was in need of a good workout. You just smile and nod, for fear that if you open your mouth you’re going to spill everything to her. 

You swim together and keep the conversation mainly about her work trip. She tells you she has to go on another one in two weeks and you fear that that will be the next time Joel will want you. 

You finish your laps and change in the locker room before meeting Joel in the lobby. He treats you differently around her, like he did when you first met him two weeks ago. You watch them walk to their separate cars before walking home. The realization hits you on the way back. He’s not going to be yours for at least two weeks. 

You were correct in your assumption. The second Liz leaves he’s calling you up, asking if he can come over. And you give in without thinking. 

You open your door when he arrives and let him in before asking, “How long is she gone this time?”

“Just a week,” he says softly. 

Before the mood can shift into a more depressing tone he wraps his arms around you and presses wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. You missed him too much to care about how upset you are deep down, letting him take you again tonight. 

You go into your bedroom and he pushes you down onto the bed. He pulls off your shorts and he spreads your thighs apart. 

“God, I missed this so much,” he says before bringing his tongue to your core. 

You close your eyes and grips the sheets for purchases as his tongue works your cunt. He pulls one orgasm out of you quickly and already begins working on the second. He slicks his fingers and inserts them into you slowly before returning his tongue to your clit. It’s almost to the point of overstimulation until your second orgasm washes over you. You coat the lower half of his face and his hand all the way down to his wrist with your release. He lays on the bed next to you as your thighs continue to shiver from the aftershocks of your high. You go to reach for the waistband of his shorts but he stops you.

“Tonight’s just you darlin’.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhmm. Missed you so much.”

You kiss his cheek and fall into the crook of his neck. He rubs your back as you two catch up, telling each other about the past two weeks without one another. You missed him so much and the voice in your head is small enough to ignore it again.

And this becomes your routine for the summer. Whenever Liz is away Joel is yours. Sometimes she’s gone for a couple weeks at a time. Sometimes it’s just a few days. She’s also not always going away for work either. Joel tells you she visits her boyfriend, too. Which in return makes you less guilty about your situation with Joel. But you also feel weird about becoming her friend so you keep her at an arm’s length, beget letting the friendship transcending past the Y. You’ve made other friends in the process, though, upstairs in the gym. You use the gym on the days you know for sure that he won’t be there, usually Mondays and Tuesdays. 

One day as you’re on the elliptical a girl named Julien strikes up a conversation with you. She’s a year older than you and she introduces you to her girlfriend, Angela. Another day when you’re using the pool, you meet an older woman, old enough to be your grandmother, named Agnes. She does water aerobics to keep herself active in her older age. She tells you that you remind her of her granddaughter. She’s one of your favorite people to spend time with. Another day as you’re walking through the lobby as you’re leaving you accidentally bump into a woman named Marina. She’s a teacher at the local elementary school. Sometimes you’ll join her for happy hour after work. Even if you’re in a messy situation with Joel you’re glad that you finally have a small cluster of friends. But the thing is… They’re all close to Liz in some way. Marina went to the same sorority as Liz. Agnes’s husband worked with Liz’s father. And Julien is Liz’s cousin. None of them have mentioned anything about Liz and Joel being in an open marriage. But then you think back to what Joel said; about keeping it on the down low and that quells your anxieties… for now. 

This routine brings you all the way to the start of fall. Joel’s birthday passes and Liz is home for that, meaning you can’t celebrate with him until her next work trip in a few days. She’ll be gone for five days this time. 

He wants you to stay with him while she’s gone and you reluctantly agree. You’ve never spent more than one night at his place. But the truth is… you’ve fallen in love with him. And you would do anything to make him happy. 

You pack your bag and he picks you up at your apartment. The drive to his place is tense and the tension follows you all the way up to his bedroom where it finally dissipates.

You push him down onto the edge of the bed for him to sit. You slide his pants down where you see his cock pitching a tent in his boxers, a dark spot forming where the pre cum is leaking. You pull down his boxers and waste no time taking him in your mouth as far as he can go. Your hand wraps around the part you can’t fit. You swirl your tongue around his head and your other hand goes to cup his balls. You want to suck him until completion but he has other plans. He pulls you up his face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss before falling onto his back. And you know exactly what he wants. You pull your shirt over your head and take off your pants, straddling him until you sink onto his cock. Both of you sigh at the sensation and you begin to rock your hips against him. His cock is buried deep inside you and with every motion of your hips it hits you at the perfect angle. Your hands are flat on his chest and his hands grip your waist, squeezing you until you cum around him, soaking his cock and groin with your wet release. You’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum spilling into you before you hop off of him and lay down beside him. 

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head. 

You’ve never been with someone that made you feel so loved and valued like Joel has. And that’s what breaks your heart the most. This is the greatest love you’ve ever known and he’s married to someone else. 

You fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up the next morning to go to the Y. You tell him to drop you off at your place so you can walk there, so it doesn’t look suspicious. But he doesn’t care. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Someone is going to catch you two together and you know it. And it begs the question… is it really an open marriage if he has to hide you from everyone in his life? That thought has crossed your mind before, of course. But you’ve been able to bury that feeling down… until now. 

He pulls into the parking lot and you scan it for anyone you may know. But that’s pointless. Everyone here knows Joel and Liz are married. 

You get out of the truck the whole walk to the front door your head is spinning in different directions in paranoia. Joel brings a hand to the small of your back as you walk in. The automatic doors slide open and you see no one you know fortunately. 

You go to the pool together and walk to the locker rooms, there’s small clusters of people spread about but again no one you know. You get changed in the women’s locker room and your paranoia worsens. You step back out to the pool room and your ears start ringing. You’re on the brink of a panic attack. Joel takes one look at you and immediately knows something’s up. He pulls you into the single stall bathroom that you’ve fucked dozens of times in and caresses your face. He doesn’t have to say anything. He knows you’re not doing well and all he can do is hold you. Just when you think you’re about to calm down the door opens. He forgot to lock it. And you see none other than Julien staring at you wide eyed and mouth agape. She doesn’t know what to do for a moment and you’re both staring back at her while she stares at you. You feel like you’re gonna throw up. Suddenly she turns on her heel and bolts. Without thinking you follow her and she goes all the way to the parking lot. She stops and turns to face you, tears springing in her eyes. 

“Don’t tell me it’s true,” she says.

What did she mean by that? Were guys suspected of being involved? Were you guys not careful enough?

“I… You don’t understand. He told me they’re in an open marriage. I never would’ve…” you trail off, but you can’t lie to her. 

She scoffs and says, “Did you really fall for that? You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid. He’s already cheated on Liz once and that was his lie the first time.” 

You feel complete panic overtake you in its purest form. Everything you’ve built, every friendship you made feels like it’s all coming crashing down on you. 

She goes to leave and you go to follow her again before she turns and snaps at you, “Don’t!” 

You watch her get in her car and drive off and you’re left in the parking lot, completely dumbfounded. 

You go back inside as you start profusely sobbing, trying to make it back to the locker room with your head down. You feel like everyone is staring at you; like you have a million eyes all hyper focused on you. You don’t see Joel when you return to the pool room but in all honesty he’s the last person you want to see right now. You hastily change in the locker room and go to leave the pool room and that’s when you spot Agnes in the shallow end. She doesn’t even have to say anything, she has the most disappointed look on her face. Tears sting your eyes once again and you practically run out of there and into the parking lot. You stop for a moment to catch your breath before taking off down the street towards home. You reach your door and your hands are shaking as you insert the key. You fall into your apartment and collapse onto the floor. The shock and betrayal you feel right now is indescribable; it’s a pain you’ve never known before. You lost the person you love and all of the friends you’ve made. All of it slipped away from you right before your eyes. 

Not only are you feeling betrayed, you’re also feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. You gave him the greatest love you’ve ever given another person and it was all built on lies. And you feel stupid for falling for those lies. 

You hear your door open but you don’t bother to look up. You know it’s Joel but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He collapses on the floor and pulls you into him. But you’re falling apart in his arms. He’s holding you like you’re going to slip away from him; like you’re water in his hands and he can’t keep you whole. Your tears are soaking his shirt and you can feel him crying against you, too. 

Somewhere inside you you know that he never understood the love you gave him. He’s crying but he doesn’t understand why. 

To you, your love was your greatest gift to him. But to Joel, it was anything but. 

[l-in-the-light]

Finally someone said it! Every time I try to point it out, people just dismiss it, so I stopped yapping about it, but I will now, because I feel encouraged by this.

Franky, our resident specialist on cyborgs, checked up the PX-4 model they just defeated and declared it's a cyborg, not a robot. He's half-human, half-machine. That's why they bleed!

But who are the Pacifistas then? Why do they look just like Kuma? Look at Sanji's reaction there. We know that Germa actually CAN create humans/clones from scratch!

They all have the same face (and body shape). Just like Pacifistas that look exactly like Kuma.

Franky didn't know that you can create humans from scratch, so he thought Pacifistas are just Kuma's twins or cyborgs modified to look like Kuma. But thanks to Whole Cake Island arc we know human beings CAN be built from scratch!

Judge continued the research (that he did before with Vegapunk) by himself, escaping Government's grasp. The research was for copying and augmenting life which means they researched lineage factors aka the blueprints of life itself. They take OP's equivalement of DNA from a person and make clones.

Judge even keeps those human clones in a special bio-like substance, which we know is kinda neon green. Color green often appears in One Piece in science related to lineage factors (SAD, soldiers of Germa, Seraphim's green blood), and also in relation to soul (any time Brook activates his soul resonating abilities), and, curiously enough, the steam coming from Udon's prison camp chimneys is the same shade of neon green. And then people wonder why do I keep yapping about Green Fairy alcohol... I just see the pattern here, okay. It's green, just by that fact alone it's suspicious, and drinking it did alter Strawhats behaviour for a bit. It screams soul/lineage factors.

And here's a moment of angst for you all. Yes, those clones are people and are unaware they're clones. They're just living their lives the way they were programmed (in their life blueprints), blissfully unaware they're disposable living shields and military power.

The question of "free will" is being raised here. And we should ask the same about the Pacifistas (and perhaps Seraphims). They're also clearly programmed to act the way they do, which is very machine-like. But they are half-humans.

Caesar says this in chapter 684: "[Punk Hazard] is a military testing faculty! We're all here because the Navy wants a weapon that can kill as many pirates as possible!". Punk Hazard wasn't just some random science lab where anyone does whatever they want. They're all there for this purpose, not just Caesar. Vegapunk and Judge were doing things for the military as well.

We know that officially it's Vegapunk who discovered lineage factors. I say "officially" here because I have a feeling he wasn't actually the first, but it's just the obscure feeling I have about it, I don't have clear evidence. Anyway, Vegapunk worked on lineage factors and Judge is using lineage factors, so either VP shared the research data with him or Judge pursued it on his own after they went their seperate ways.

Judge proved to us one thing: yes, you can create human beings from scratch, as long as you're smart enough to make use of lineage factors. You can also use it to clone people! Judge can do all that thanks to Vegapunk's research, so it's likely Vegapunk can do that as well and even better. That's how Pacifistas were born. Seraphims are an even better versions of Pacifistas, because they use green blood with lineage factors for devil fruits and use the best lineage possible: that of Lunarians.

If Vegapunk has Lunarians' lineage factors at his disposal, then there are two possible deductions to draw here: 1. he was part of the research group that was performing really cruel experiments on King, because he is literally the last Lunarian present in the story and we know indeed he was captured by the Government at some point (guess in what science lab was King kept? On Punk Hazard). 2. Government (Saturn) shared with Vegapunk the results from the said experiments so he can develop Seraphims.

But let's theorize that Vegapunk did whatever he could not to dirty his hands and he only sticked to creating countermeasures to mass murder weapons, and whatever the Government was doing to the prisoners, he had no hand in it. But after he got captured by the said Government and forced to work for them (and created Egghead as the result, seastone coating for ships, Pacifistas and Seraphims, among many other things), it's likely he had to at the very least adapt the research data they gave him that they gathered from experimenting on humans. They also had to give him access to SAD (hence the green blood). And of course he had to use Kuma's lineage factors to make cyborg clones of him aka the Pacifistas.

Also, just to clarify, I don't think Vegapunk experimented on humans willingly, I think he was forced to either 1. ignore it and saw it being done under his nose (he was definitely not unaware of it, he was the leader of the science group on Punk Hazard) 2. use the data given to him that was gathered through human experimentation (Vegapunk is smart, he must have guessed how that data was acquired) 3. build cyborg human clones for the Government. Let's also not forget Stussy, who is apparently a clone made by Vegapunk as well!

But I do believe Vegapunk always did whatever he could to not cross a certain line. After all we know that while working on Punk Hazard, he earned Ibel Peace Prize for 'GP Flowers' that bloom out of gunpowder and did those very resistant protection suits that work even against deadliest gas weapons developed by Caesar. But he also did some human enlargement experiments (most likely on the prisoners, but at least he never experimented on children, Caesar made sure we know that). It's simply that in the world of One Piece there's only so much you can do without making your own conscience guilty, if you work for the Government.

Also, Vegapunk might have had a choice to leave and live the rest of his life as a runaway, but then he wouldn't be able to do science anymore. His only choice would be doing it for the criminals in some emperor's empire, like for Big Mom. We can treat him as Government's hostage who just couldn't oppose their power or views directly. Or, quoting Sanji, Vegapunk could have just given up on his dream and hide for the rest of his life in some god forsaken hole, like Woop Slap in Fuusha Village or Wolf in the North Blue, to never openly attempt science again. (Hm, why am I mentioning Woop Slap? Oh, I dunno, just a hunch). I think Vegapunk's ultimate plan to send his research stratum to the clouds was his final stand against the Government. He never truly wanted to cooperate with them, not after what he learned that they do. But he really had limited choices there. Using their funds to create potential for better future of the humanity is really awesome way of flipping them a metaphorical finger for a goodbye though.

Also fun fact, but there is one interesting inconsistency about Punk Hazard's explosion. There were in fact, two explosions, not just one. We know Caesar pressed a self-destruct button (Vegapunk installs that in every research lab he worked in). But there was apparently one more explosion in a different lab. I like to believe Vegapunk did it by himself, either to make use of the situation and destroy the human experimentation site of the Government (he could even blame Caesar's explosion for that, which would be quite clever), or because he was simply mad about the human experiments. It would be basically him flipping them a finger as a goodbye, haha. Sadly he got captured by the Government later.

I like Vegapunk exactly because he is such a morally complex character, makes him feel very human in his struggle to stay at the side of "good" in the "good vs evil" debate.

But let's not forget when Clover visited him at Punk Hazard, Vegapunk himself voiced his concern, unprompted "you won't find the answer to good and evil in old stories", proving that this dilemma was always at the back of his mind when he stayed at the lab there.

Also the "stand down" advice seems genuine, maybe he also had to "stand down" to get through Punk Hazard phase of his life, witnessing the many horrors there.

Also, Vegapunk did think the clones he created are actually humans, as one can see from his interactions with Stussy. He never treated them like machines. Would he treat Pacifistas like humans as well, though? That I'm not so sure about. He might have planned them to be just living machines with a computer program instead of a brain, but as long as he uses people's lineage factors, the results always go beyond his expectations and comprehension. Pacifistas might as well be one of Vegapunk's unmentioned sins.

It will be commented on later by Drake, but something I feel that gets overlooked by the fandom is that the Pacifistas bleed. They're not pure robots. but utilize the Vinsmoke cloning technology and are like Franky--a slurry of mechanical and organic bits mixed together into one.

So when characters like the Straw Hats blow them up, it's not as simple as destroying a robot. There was a person in there somewhere, even if they were grown in a vat and had their brain replaced with a computer. This is a little bit more obvious with the S versions shown in Egghead, but no less horrific here.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 12 - Jealous

@jegulus-microfic November 12, Word count 746

Previous part First part

James jumped out of his car before any of the others could even unbuckle their seatbelts and opened Regulus’s door for him. Regulus looked up at him a bit bewildered, but took his hand anyway and let James guide him out of the car. 

“How come you never do that for me?” Remus pouted as he walked around the car to where Sirius stood waiting.

“Because of what I let you do to me this morning,” Sirius quipped, raising his brow, daring Remus to keep going as he would definitely describe every moment in minute detail. He’d done it before and would feel no shame in recounting their exploits in front of his brother. Remus smartly kept his mouth shut, and they headed into the gallery silently. 

James was surprised how many people were milling around the exhibits and just how large the art show actually was. There were so many artists showcasing their work. 

“Where’s yours?” He asked Regulus as they followed the crowd to the first display. 

“Back right,” Regulus told him, pointing in the right direction. James started to walk that way, but Regulus tugged his hand to stop him. “No, we have to look at everybody’s. We can’t just go straight to mine,” Regulus muttered quickly. 

“Why not?” James questioned. “I want to see yours,” Regulus’s cheeks turned pink as he ducked his head. 

“I need a few minutes to prepare myself for going over there,” Regulus admitted, clearly nervous about how James would react.

“Let’s go look at some art then,” James said, kissing the back of Regulus’s hand and following after Sirius and Remus. “Thank you for telling me what you needed, love. You can always do that, and I’ll respect it every time,” He didn’t need to look down to know how deep the red was that coloured Regulus’s cheeks now, he could quite happily picture it in his head.

They caught up with Sirius and Remus, the former having a heated discussion with Remus in front of the artist about his piece. 

“I just don’t get it,” Sirius was saying. “I mean, it’s just a tennis ball,” Remus sighed. 

“It’s modern art; the tennis ball represents the way that commercialism has changed the way sports are viewed,”

“It represents a game of fetch,” Sirius retorted, much to the artist's ire. Remus hurriedly moved Sirius along to a painting of a park. “See, Remus, there’s a dog playing fetch with a tennis ball,” He said loudly as they took in the work. 

“I changed my mind,” Regulus said quietly into James’s ear. “I can not follow him around here, let's just go see my stuff,” James beamed down at him. 

“Lead the way, love,” 

Regulus led them all the way to the back of the hall and stopped in front of ‘Burk with a Nana’. “Wait!” James exclaimed. “They let you display it with that name?!” Regulus shrugged. 

“Art,” He said simply, as a means of explanation. “As long as it isn’t too sweary, they don’t mind.” 

James moved with Regulus, looking at each piece. Regulus seemed to lean towards painting, but there were charcoal sketches, clay sculptures and a cat made from intricately twisted gold-coloured wire. James was in awe of Regulus and was about to say so when he spotted him chatting with a tall, dirty-blonde-haired man. He felt suddenly quite jealous, an emotion he wasn’t used to feeling at the easy way they were conversing and the smile on Regulus’s face. He strode over there, putting a possessive arm around Regulus and waited to be introduced. 

“James, this is Evan. Our parents know each other. Evan, this is James, my, er, my…”

“Boyfriend,” James provided helpfully. To be fair to Regulus, they hadn’t discussed labels, but, by the pleased look on Regulus’s face, he quite liked this one. Evan’s eyebrows shot up his face in surprise. 

“Oh, wow,” He said. “Erm, wow, Regulus, that’s so good,” His face softened. “I’m so happy for you. I’m here with my boyfriend, actually. I think you know him. Oh, look, here he is now. Darling, look who it is,” A slim-built man in an expensive-looking suit strode over to their little group, his dark brown hair slicked back expertly, showing off the sparking diamond earring, glinting off the light as he neared them. James felt Regulus still at his side. 

“Barty,” Regulus breathed out when the man stopped before them, looking shocked at who Evan was talking to. 

“Reggie?” 

Next part

[nervocat]

“Gargoyle Watching.” (no cws - wc: 586, platonic/fluff, male reader) FEM ALIGNED DNI WITH THIS POST OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

[name] Draconia, the Malleus Draconia's little brother. They both had the same reputation of being the feared and revered Draconia's, and they weren't very different either (though not as scary as people say).

Wandering Night Raven College's campus, the rain pattering on Malleus’ umbrella the two were under, [name] listened to his elder brother ramble on about the different gargoyles on campus with a fascinated look in his eyes.

Pointing to one on a building, Malleus explains the detail to it and his own guesses on the gargoyle, his brother listening intently. He was about the only one who could listen to him talk on about these things.

“It's been there for seemingly a very long time, I wonder what it's seen..” Malleus comments, putting his hand back to his side. You nodded in reply as you kept your eyes on the gargoyle.

“It does.. but it still seems to be staying up just fine,” you comment, looking back up at Malleus. “I like walking out in the rain.. we should do it more, perhaps.”

“Perhaps we should.. I find it quite nice as well,” he says, a smile forming on his face as he looks down at you. “Should we go see more?”

You smile back and nod eagerly. “Of course, brother, I would be delighted to walk around more if you should invite me to.”

Following close behind Malleus to stay under his umbrella, you walk along the paths before he points to another, one with water falling from its open mouth.

“Do you see that one, dear brother?”

“I do, Malleus, it's very intriguing,” you say as you watch the water fall from its mouth. Malleus watches with you, before looking over to you.

“Do you wish to see it up close?” you look over to him, a slightly confused look in your eyes.

“See it up close..?” seeing how Malleus' eyes narrowed with his smile, fangs peeking out, you knew he was up to something.

“Of course — follow me,” quickly following him, having to take more rapid steps to keep up, you end up on the roof of said building with the gargoyle, able to now look at it up close.

“Are you sure we're able to do this, brother?”

“No one's out while it's raining, and now we can see this gargoyle up close,” he says, sitting down with you having to follow suit, though not sitting down and staying on your feet, hands on your knees.

Malleus seemed to be enjoying watching the water coming from the gargoyle, leaning forwards almost all the way to see the face of it. Feeling the rain starting to hit you a bit, your lips pull down into a slight frown.

“Malleus, you're leaving me in the rain,” he just laughed.

“The rain is nice anyways, dear [name]. It's nice whether you're dry or not,” was all he said, teasing smile still on his face as his legs dangled off the building, free hand on his lap and glancing back at you. You huffed, just looking back at the gargoyle, Malleus following suit.

You noticed how the teeth of the gargoyle broke the steady stream of water, making it split ways from the rest of itself. Huddling as close as you could to Malleus, you just look at it with him, the only noise being the flowing water and the pitter-patter of the rain against your brother's umbrella.

You should definitely go gargoyle watching with him more, even if you weren't in his club.

[ ★ notes: a little indulgent fic for Malleus based off his clubwear card :33 I actually love sm how this turned out and it is longer than I anticipated it to be but that's ok. Hoping I didn't mischaraterize Malleus throughout the fic.. and I would so make more posts abt Malleus and a biological little brother specifically but I will wait until I catch up to book 7 (<- is currently still stuck on book 6) ]

★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦

[atlas-nsfw]

Good luck with your final papers! When you’re done and have time, can I request an afab!reader x unicorn with breeding kink and first time/defloration?

I know virginity is a ridiculous social construct, but I was thinking about the archetypal unicorn trait where they can only be tamed or approached by virgins. Plus the thought of having to take a massive horse cock for your first time is both terrifying and tantalizing.

Also, random question… do any of the humans with womb tattoos on the ark enjoy being bred, or actively go out of their way to be impregnated by monsters?

🪢

Most kinks aren’t based on reality anyway so virginity kinks aren’t really different! Virginity and monsters are both made up and what kind of hypocrite would I be if I turned down one and not the other.

As for your question: it varies from person to person! The tattoo helps numb pain and make the tattoo holder more easily aroused but it isn’t flat out mind control. Some people arrive and their first monster experience and birth are so startling that they end up hating it. Other humans really enjoy themselves, usually because their first time with a monster is really good. The main scary part is not understanding the languages of the monsters (as well as the less sapient monsters and the monsters who just use humans as cum dumps and dildos). Between you and me, Lamia are probably the best monsters to end up with. They keep as many humans as they want and spoil them the whole time!

Now for your afab!reader x m!unicorn! As expected it takes place on the Monster Ark. Cw: virginity kink, dubcon, non-sapient monster, hypnosis

You awoke in a warm, shaded grove on a bed on moss. A brook babbled nearby and several large, moss covered stones rested nearby. They appeared to be part of a ruin. Your first thought was this must have been a dream. Why else would you be naked and out in the wilderness? Furthermore, there was a strange glowing tattoo on your stomach that you absolutely did not remember getting.

You looked to the sound of the water and saw it.

The unicorn stood on slender, elegant legs, white fur glistening with an unnatural glimmer. Its large brown eyes looked into you and you felt at peace in its gaze. You felt no fear as it approached. Instead, you felt a warmth blooming in your core.

It leaned its head down, the tip of its horn touching your forehead. You let out a sigh, utterly relaxed. You limbs

Moved on their own, causing you to stand and walk with the unicorn to the ruins. There, you laid down on a narrow stone. Your head felt pleasantly fuzzy as you spread your legs. You remained content even as the beast stood over you, the flat head of its cock poking your virgin cunt.

It was only when it pushed inside you, breaking and spreading you with its inhuman girth, did the daze lift. You gasped, the pain too intense to even muster a scream. You clawed at the moss, unable to move with the massive cock speared inside you. It pushed further and further as tears filled your eyes. For the first time, you considered it not a dream.

“Oh dear!” A soft voice chirped in your ear. You turned your head to see a little naked person with dragonfly wings. A pixie. He grinned at you. “You look to be in pain! Don’t worry. I can help!”

“G-get it off,” you rasped.

“No, no. He has chosen you! But I can help with the pain until your tattoo kicks in!” The pixie beamed, rubbing his hands together before blowing on them.

Sparkling dust blew across your face and you shut your eyes. The pain evaporated. All that was left was a wonderful, full filling.

The unicorn dragged his cock most of the way out, until just his head filled you, before slamming back in to start an intense pace. This abuse of your insides should have been excruciating but instead of cries of pain, only moans of pleasure came out. It felt so good to give your virginity to this monster. All of the reasons you thought of holding onto it before were meaningless. You loved this thing and its cock.

Thoughts of all else fell away as you begged, not for it to stop. No, you begged for more, you begged for the monster for fill your womb with its seed, you begged to be knocked up by this strange creature. It could have your virginity, your body. It could use you whenever it wanted. You would give it foals. All you wanted in return was this pleasure forever.

Taglist: @leitor-sonolento, @kittycatkandies , @ren-lives-here , @tiredsleepyhead

[chowdersinterlude]

Dunce

Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader

contains: Fluff, slight angst??, denki and reader have a little argument buttttt you could never be mad at him<3

summary: Denki (being the show off he is) is always surrounded by girls, but never thinks to what you might feel seeing YOUR boyfriend being touched and flirted with by other girls

Cons of having a dumb but hot boyfriend (the internet's standards) is that every girl is gonna want him.

Since patrol day is kinda silent you decide it would be a perfect time to spend time with your loud-loving boyfriend<3

After you text him (of course) he’s IMMEDIATELY there, but where? Oh there.. amber yellow hair standing out in a crowd

But oh?, he’s surrounded by fangirls

You decide to walk up to him and pull him away, but as you try to he just swats your hand away

“Please wait princess, I have fans here.”

What the fuck? Is this mf stupid?

“Denki Kaminari, and I’m your girlfriend”

He sighs and lays his gaze on you, but obviously is quickly shifts to the girl in front of him who’s touching his chest

“Woah there, calm down ladies”

He laughs and giggles

All of this makes you furious, but ultimately if he actually loved you, he would’ve been moved out of the crowd soooo? You decide to go and hang out with someone else.

Y/N💓 : Kiriii can you meet me at our spottt??

Kiri : Sure!! I’ll be there in a sec💪

What a cheesy idiot. Anyways

As you walk to the secluded parking spot next to a specific park you’re met with crimson red eyes and a warm smile

“So I guess I’m always the last one huh?” You tease and softly nudge his arm

“So what’s up?” He looks up at the sky, puffy clouds forming unknown shapes

“It’s just my boyfriend being a dick” you scoff and smirk

“Why? What did denki do now?” He puts an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close

“He just doesn’t understand what it’s like to be jealous”

“To see people touching YOUR partner”

Kirishima tilts his head

“What do you mean?”

“Him with his pride just lets girls flirt and touch all over him”

Anger starts to build up in your lower stomach

“It’s really fucking annoying seeing it”

The anger slowing fades away when kirishima pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist

“Have you talked about it with him?” He says as he pulls away

“Well I tried?”

“He just brushed me off and continued to talk with the girls”

“Maybe we can confront him together”

Kirishima bumps his fists

“Sure you little idiot” you laugh at him softly

“Lets go” he pulls your hand

“Lead the way”

You interlock fingers with him and walk next to his side, doubt leaving your body when you turn to see Kirishima's determined face.

What an idiot..

“Y/N there you are!” The blonde exclaims and runs towards you

“I was looking for you to apologize..”

He scratches the back of his neck

“Denki. We need to talk” you let go of kirishima’s hand and stand in front of him

“W-what? Talk about what? Are you gonna break up with me?” His loud and clumsy personality leaves his body when he hears your words

“No denki. I wanna talk about some boundaries”

His gaze softens a bit from your reassurance.

“Denk, I’m your girlfriend not those girls who keep touching you”

“It pains me to see girls touching on what I call mine”

“My love, My boyfriend”

“You need to learn to tell people you have a life partner and stop being a dunce”

He nods almost frantically and hugs you tightly

“I’m sorry y/n”

You and kirishima both know this boy is gonna need a lot more than just talking.

[bluestarlett]

Mmmm I don't fucking know,,

What were your thoughts while making the cosmic character designs??

HELLO OMG HI HI HI hELLO OMG so

their designs are over a year old and frankly have changed a LOT since their earliest designs HOWEVER i will talk about their current designs :]

I suppose I'll talk about Seraph's first so... Everythng from this point forward will be under the cut so I don't bore everyone <3

So first of all hi this is Seraph he's my beloved beautiful fat angel man

ANYWAY:

there are a lot of small details in all of the Starcatchers' designs which reflect their personalities! Seraph, for one, does not like being constricted or held in place. Hence why he always wears pretty loose-fitting clothing! His belt is meant to represent Selene (his mom) as well as Gaea. (the symbol in the middle is the star of gaea, which is a symbol that shows up repeatedly in every cosmic design. The only ones who do not have a star of Gaea in their designs are Saturn and Scylla! [given that saturn holds no respect for the gods, and scylla is not a god.])

SECONDLY!

The reason his heart is exposed is based off of the phrases, "Home is where the heart is" as well as "heart in the wrong place". In a very early loop, he attempted to take his heart out of his chest, given that he never necessarily felt 'at home', and told himself that was his own fault.

He has scars practically all over him (to symbolize his endurance and perseverance), especially on his hands. Originally, the reason for this was based off of my FRIEND Heart (@apollodoesnotpost ) because his hands are very rough and calloused but have always been very warm and comforting to me, which is very similar to Seraph's character. Additionally, this gained some extra symbolism with the release of RIProducer's Language of the Lost, specifically with the lyric "These fingers and these palms, full of love despite the scars".

Also! The eyes on his halos are meant to look like moons! Black scleras, white irises, and the shapes of his irises change along with the moon phases! It's really the only way for the Stars to keep track of the state of the moon, given it's kind of... crashed into the ocean? (result of the Juno Incident.)

NEXT UP saturn

Hi hi!! so uhh hehe... saturn is kind of just self-indulgent, really. at face value there isn't a bunch hidden in their design however there's still a few things I can talk about :3

first of all, their shapes! Seraph is a very round and relaxed character whilst Saturn is much stiffer and sharper. Their coat, for one, is meant to make their shoulders appear much broader and stiffer than they normally would be. Funnily enough, in contrast to their appearance, Saturn is a very languid and slinky character. (For reference; I have a few rules I have to follow when I write the Starcatchers, specifically when they move. Seraph is often described as 'waltzing' or 'dancing' when he walks given he is very musical and upbeat, saturn is described as 'slithering' or 'slinking' given that they move the way an actual octopus does, and aster 'creeps' and 'trudges' because she is very stiff and rigid due to how anxious she usually is.)

As you might notice, NONE of the clocks in their design read the same time. I promise you this is intentional, i am NOT stupid. The only clock on their body that reads the correct time is the one in their eye! However, they tend to keep that one covered, since when they look at people through it, they kinda are subject to. severely traumatic prophetic visions (aka, they watch Seraph and Aster die over and again in future loops and can do nothing to stop it because they cannot stop the passage of time.)

Also! It's not in their reference, but in almost all of my drawings of them, Saturn's clock eye reads as 3:33! :]

Another little neat detail! The tubes on Saturn's arm are NOT A BOMB. The blue liquid running through them is the blood of Scylla! Modern technology doesn't work all that well on Tycho, and while gears and switches can be helpful with some things, magic tends to be more efficient. Also, you can't see it in this ref, but Saturn's arms are osseointegration prosthetics! (aka, they are prosthetics attached directly to their bones as opposed to socket prosthetics.)

The little snake pin on their collar is a reference to their earliest concept design! In BETA beta, Saturn was meant to be a snake! They had medusa hair :] unfortunately, I can't find any of my concept sketches from this time though.

Next is Aster!

So first of all.

Her similarities to Rapunzel were in NO WAY intentional, however they absolutely make sense given that she is very princess-trapped-in-tower coded.

First of all, her earrings! You cannot see it in this reference because I accidentally messed up </3 however her earrings are supposed to be Stars of Gaea. Right now they are just normal stars because I FORGOT.

Secondly, the star mesh fabric actually plays an extremely important role in her design! All of the gods (and ONLY the gods) have that mesh fabric incorporated into their designs. (For example, Gaea has his sash, Charon's cloak, Selene's sleeves, etc etc.) This is meant to hint at the fact that she is connected to the gods in some way and that she was one at some point.

Another thing! All of the characters in Cosmic have their shoulder markings, usually connecting to Gaea or the other gods in some way. (Example; All sirens have teardrop markings which bear resemblance to Scylla's marks, all seraphim have moons which are Selene's markings. Gaea has 4 pointed stars with one point facing directly up whilst Charon has hourglasses like that of a black widow!) All of these markings glow white, however, you might notice that Aster's do not! This is because her markings are meant to resemble scars to represent the way in which her divinity was ripped from her. Have fun with that ^_^

She also has the most grey hairs out of the Starcatchers (both because she's the oldest- or, well, second oldest- as well as a way to symbolize her emotional exhaustion. The more absolutely fucking broken the stars are, the more aged they look in some ways lol)

This isn't relevant whatsoever, but her lashes are Not based off of Furina? I actually know nothing about genshin impact. her lashes are based off of the Jellylashes item on Gaiaonline!

(these!)

ok that's it im not talkign about gaea because he doesnt deserve it

[dresden-syndrome]

26/VII-1978. State Security department No. 64, Burgas region, People's Union Republic of Bulgaria, EESU.

"Full name?" Iva Kostadinova Milcheva.

"Date of birth?" 7th of April, year 1950.

"Registration place?" City of Burgas, "Prvi Internatsional" street, **** **** **.

"Ethnicity, citizenship?" Bulgarian, citizenship of EESU.

"Employment?" European Communist Party, chairman deputy of Burgas municipal committee.

The same unchanging questions and answers, learned by heart and thrown in an emotionless bureaucratic manner. Who knows how many thousands of them Iva had to fill before; in this country, it's just a part of life. Only this time she was made to sit in what looks like interrogation room, the guards standing besides and the light of table lamp straight to her face. Trying to keep calm and still, like she always used to, just as if today is not the most horrible day in her life.

"What did you bring me here for?"

During her Party career Iva managed to cooperate with State Security quite a lot; although wary of them, she viewed them with respect rather than fear. This day, when they called her to get in the black Volga for a visit, she didn't think anything could go wrong - saying no to State Security invitations has never been an option anyway - until they cuffed her hands and turned to the unknown direction.

"You've been accused of assisting in a right-wing revisionist conspiracy against the socialist regime. Did you know that?"

Arrested. Arrested for political crimes.

It's somewhat like an accident; nobody is safe from it, everyone prays it doesn't hit close to home yet it feels like it won't happen to you right until it does. As experienced as she was, Iva couldn't yet believe that. Isn't it that only the spies and enemies end up there? How could she, who always loved her motherland more than life itself, become one?

"No. I didn't participate in anything."

There were no answers in her head, no time to plan what to say or do for a better outcome. Only one task of immense willpower. Not to cry. Not to scream out loud. Not to think of her breaking future. Stay calm. Do what they say. Even if it gets worse. Even as she feels the cold steel lock on her wrists and her eyes cover by a thick cloth.

"Take that one to cell 2-18."

As Iva exited the main hallway, held by guards by each side, into what seems to be a staircase, a horrifying scream struck her ears from below. It sounded like someone cried out in pure agony, abruptly ending with a sound of doors locked at that lower floor.

"Just what they deserve."

After a long disorientating walk through quieter upper floors, the blindfold falls, the cuffs unlock and the door shuts with an unpleasant metal bang. A cold lonely prison cell, for a couple of weeks or for the rest of her life. Nobody knows.

The nice summer day which began with a cup of strong coffee, two cigarettes and a nice walk along the beach filled with Soviet tourists and ice cream shops finally comes to an end.

Art tag @painful-pooch @prismpanic @generic-whumperz @suspicious-whumping-egg @onlywhump @whumpedydump @whumpthefifth @monarchthefirst @sunshiline-writes @project-xiii @3-2-whump @unforgivenn