#but like. why are seemingly none of the guys i end up feeling things for into masculine women.

[rivalsispunk]

Beneath The Surface (Chapter 2 of ongoing series When We’re Alone)

Best friend’s dad!Declan O’Hara, boss!Declan O’Hara x AFAB reader

Series summary: Journalist Declan O’Hara is in need of a personal assistant as his Corinium career skyrockets, and his daughter Taggie has the perfect candidate: her best friend. What seemingly starts as a professional relationship soon snowballs into something both Declan and reader were never expecting and are no longer able to deny.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, (eventual) smut, cursing, age gap romance (reader is a few years older than Taggie), mention of male appendages (IYKYK), more warnings added per chapter

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter summary: Declan grapples with the risk of hiring you while you grapple with whether or not you're good enough. Once the verdict is in, you both realise you may have jumped in feet first a little too hastily.

A/N: Things are heating up in more ways than one and I am soooo ready for you guys to meet the silently unhinged Declan... Oh, and in this universe, Declan did end up interviewing Margaret Thatcher. Also not entirely proofread so may be some mistakes. Happy reading!

Chapter Two: Beneath The Surface

“A promise of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct questions on his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to publish his prosperous love.”

You’ve spent the last half hour reading, then rereading, the same page of Pride and Prejudice, your creature-comfort book since you were a young teenager. Normally, you’d be able to recite the passage from memory by now, but your mind has been elsewhere than focussed on the words in front of you. It’s been over a week since your interview with Declan and you’ve heard nothing. Zilch. Nada. For days, your brain has been stuck in a constant loop of questions you’ve no answers for.

Why hasn’t he called? 

Why haven’t you heard anything? 

Did he find someone better?

That last one has been the most burning question of them all, coupled with the memory of Declan’s gravelly voice telling you, I’d be lucky to have ya.

So, why hasn’t he called?

It’s not lost on you that you sound more like a needy girl hanging out for a guy after a date than someone waiting to hear back about a job you weren’t even sure you wanted until the moment you were sat in his office. But you do want it.

The job, that is.

Taggie was none the wiser, too. She’d told you her father had barely given her an inkling of where his head was at, and that he remained suspiciously mum on the outcome of the interviews he’d had in the days succeeding yours. “I think he’s just been busy,” she countered, mentioning that Declan had been on edge in the lead up and preparation for his televised interview with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. You were well aware, and knew how much the opportunity meant to him, so you’d made a conscious effort to stay away from The Priory, as not to overwhelm Declan or put any additional pressure on him to make a decision about the assistant position. Instead, you’d met Taggie in town for afternoon tea on the days she wasn’t preparing for an event, or a meal at Bar Sinister when time called for a catch up. But the Thatcher interview was days ago now — a roaring success with both viewers and ratings — and you were getting restless for news.

Slamming your worn out copy of Pride and Prejudice shut, you reach for the phone by your bedside and dial your best friend for what feels like the fiftieth time this week. You’ve called The Priory so often in recent days that she doesn’t even say hello when she answers.

“Still no word yet,” she sighs down the line. “He’s in an awful mood tonight, though. Went straight up to his office when he got home, refused dinner. I think Mummy being away is getting to him.”

You hum in agreement, not that you have any real insight on the matter. “I’m sure he’s fine, Tag. Probably tired of putting up with that Tony Baddingam’s shit. I told you what a right arse he was to your dad when I was there, didn’t you?”

“You did. Honestly, I didn’t think about anyone else at Corinium when I suggested you work for Daddy. It’s one thing for you to be under him, but to be at the beck and call of Lord Baddingham, too?” You practically hear Tag shudder down the line. “Makes me feel ill the way he treats the women who work for him.”

You push aside any runaway thoughts elicited by Taggie’s mention of you under Declan and shrug. “It’s fine, Tag. I’ve dealt with enough Baddinghams in my time to know to tread carefully.” You pull the phone cable taut and pluck it with your finger. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve got the job anyway. I should have heard by now.”

In the room above Taggie, Declan stubs out his cigarette, reclining in his office chair as he listens to his daughter’s voice reverberate through the house. One final plume of smoke emerges from the pile of ashes and butts that have accumulated in the tray over the last twenty-four hours. He ought to be prepping for his next TV interview, a fairly benign chat with a local farmer who has grand plans for the land on the outskirts of the Cotswolds. A piece of cake, he’d told Tony earlier today when he was asked how his preparation was coming. However, he’d flicked through his notes and research God knows how many times this evening, yet couldn’t recall one lick of fact about his upcoming subject. Instead, he’d spent hours — no, days — agonising over whether he should hire you. His producer, Cameron Cook, was breathing down his neck for him to hire someone so he was spread less thin, but it’s not an easy task. On paper, you’re the perfect choice. Hell, in reality, you’re the perfect choice. Still, he prayed that one of the interviewees after you would prove better candidates (and notably male), but no one measured up to you. Sure, they were intelligent. Passionate, somewhat. But then there was you; intelligent and passionate, and looking far too delectable in that bloody skirt that belongs to his fucking wife. Yes, his wife — that’s if she still even wants to be called that — who’s been gone for weeks without as much as a phone call or letter to the house. Their son, Patrick, had mentioned that she’d phoned a couple of weeks ago to inform him she was back in the city, but spared their university-bound child the details of her whereabouts. Declan loves Maud, despite her shortcomings — of which there are many — but he couldn’t help but resent his wife for her absence, and moreover, for the constant dull ache that had been burdening his cock since seeing her skirt on you. He rationalised that if Maud was here, he wouldn’t be up at night thinking obscene thoughts about his daughter’s best friend who had showed up to his office all smiles and curves in his wife’s long-forgotten hand-me-downs. Every time Declan closes his eyes he sees the shallow dimple that adorns your left cheek. He gets random flashbacks of that black lace bra he imagines holds perfect breasts, if he just allows his mind to wander.

He flexes his hand in an attempt to rid it of the itch that’s been daring him to relieve himself ever since you left his Corinium office. There have been countless instances over the last week where he wondered if he just gave in — just a little, just a stroke, something, anything — that the ache will go away. But there’s a bigger part of him that’s afraid that once he starts, he won’t be able to stop, and then how will he ever be able to face you again? Face Taggie again, knowing the pure filth that’s taken him over in the moments when he’s alone?

Cameron had demanded that afternoon that he chooses someone to pick up his slack by the weekend so help her God or she’ll stick him with an intern with more boobs for brains, and he knows — he knows — he can’t be stuck with someone with the same level IQ as a stale loaf of bread. He’d combust. So, against his better judgement, he decides as he lights yet another cigarette, that he’ll offer you the job as his assistant.

So help him God.

The phone rang just after half seven as you took your first bite of marmite toast. “Do you want the good news or the best news first?” You wince at Taggie’s chirpiness so early in the morning.

“Umm, best ‘til last,” you option. “Good news first.”

“Well, I’m making shepherd’s pie for dinner and you’re coming over.”

“Alright,” you giggle. “And the other news?”

“We’re celebrating.”

“Celebrating you making shepherd’s pie?”

“No, you nitwit! We’re celebrating you! You got the job! Daddy just told me on his way out this morning.”

Your chair whines against the floorboards of your flat as you shoot to your feet. “I got the job?”

“You got the job!” Taggie shrieks down the line. “Daddy said he was going to phone you when he gets to the office but I couldn’t wait to tell you myself. I know you’ve been anxious waiting to hear back.”

“Oh, Tag, I can’t believe it! I really thought he’d found someone more suited,” you express, cheeks pinching with a grin.

“He said he was very impressed with you,” your friend continues, voice laced with pride. “He also suggested we go shopping for some new officewear.”

“So, he hated my outfit, is what you’re saying.” Him and everybody else at that bloody station.

“No, it’s not that. I think him seeing you in Mummy’s clothes freaked him out a little, is all,” Taggie confesses. “He’s been a bit all over the shop since she’s been gone and I suppose when it comes to her, out of sight, out of mind is best.”

You think back to Declan spluttering his tea everywhere during your interview, and his little explosion afterwards. It makes sense that he doesn’t wanted be reminded of the woman who stepped out on him. You were just glad his reaction wasn’t to something you had done.

You and Taggie chat for a few minutes more about potential shopping destinations and your plans for the day before she rushes through a goodbye, eager to get to the market to pick up groceries for your celebratory meal. An hour later, Declan calls.

“Morning, it’s Declan,” he says, words stifled by the cigarette between his lips. “Declan O’Hara.”

You bite down a smile at the unnecessary clarification. You do the same to thwart your enthusiasm at finally receiving his call. “Hiya. It’s nice to hear from you. How’re you this morning, Declan?”

“Yeah, good, good. Tony’s riding my arse as per usual but other than that, good.” Silence reigns as you wait for Declan to relay the good news. After a moment, he clears his throat like he just remembered you’re on the other end of the line. “Look, I don’t have long, but I wanted to give you a bell to let you know the assistant job is yours. If you want it.”

Although you were already aware of the job offer, you do a happy jig in your kitchen. “Yes, thank you! Of course, I accept.”

“Great. Does Monday work as a start date?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there. Thank you, Declan.”

“Welcome. Chat soon.”

The line goes dead not second later, and while you’re still overcome with excitement about the new job, your chat with your new boss seemed off. Declan seemed off. Far removed from the chatty, friendly man you sat across from at Corinium just days ago. But like he said, Tony was on his back. He’s probably just… tense.

It becomes clear to Declan as he watches you and Taggie move seamlessly around the kitchen while clearing up after dinner that you’re effervescent. Far more than he’s ever noticed, in all the times you’ve visited his daughter over the recent months, and it bothers him. He hated how his pulse quickened at the sight of you on his doorstep two hours earlier, David Bowie T-shirt peeking out from beneath your checkered coat. If you were at least the tiniest bit irksome or slow-witted or just plain dull, he’d be able to reckon with the fact that his reaction to you was purely chemical. Just another man taken by a young woman’s good looks. But then again, if he found you any of those things, he wouldn’t dare allow you anywhere near his work, near his research. Nor would he be impressed with his daughter adopting a friend as such, either. 

Your laughter trills, egged on by the celebratory champagne Taggie had provided, and Declan catches the tailend of his daughter flinging a handful of dishsoap suds in your direction. You were a good girl, a good friend, being there for Taggie in the last few months. Always willing to lend a hand, or an ear, certainly a shoulder to cry on more than Declan liked to think about or admit. But you were just that: a girl. A girl who was now his assistant. He’ll be damned if he were to become another man at Corinium taking advantage of that power imbalance, which is why he replaces his glass of bubbles with a whiskey and retires to his office after supper, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s forehead as he goes.

You decide to sleepover at The Priory after consuming a few too many glasses of champagne for it be considered safe to drive home. Although, sleepover may be too generous of a word because you’ve barely slept a wink since sinking into bed beside Taggie over an hour ago. Your friend, however, had no trouble drifting off, only to start snoring so loudly the whole bed vibrates. You’ve already tried covering your head with a pillow and the counting backwards from one hundred trick to coax yourself to sleep, but it’s no use. You slide out from under the poppy-printed covers and tip-toe downstairs in a sweater hanging on the back of Taggie’s bedroom door. You’re swimming in the woollen brown garment. It falls to mid-thigh and is sleeves are at least half an arm-length too long, but it keeps the chill at bay when you swing open The Priory’s back door. You slide on a pair of Wellington boots that sit on the doormat and step out into the biting air. In it, the inches of skin between the hem of the sweater and your long socks prickle with goosebumps, and your breath forms a fog under the soft glow of fairy lights leftover from a garden party the O’Hara’s hosted in the summer. Somewhere in the distance, a owl twoos and foxes rustle through shrubbery. When you lived in the city, the nights were overrun with sirens and drunken hooligans singing football chants down the alleyways and other racket that made it very difficult to hear yourself think. Meanwhile, out here, in the countryside, you could just be.

���Nice sweater.”

“Fuck!” The sudden verbiage shocks your shoulders to your ears. There’s no mistaking that voice, yet you have to scan the area to see where the Irish lilt is stemming from. It’s not until you hear the swish of water that you realise he’s in the hot tub that’s tucked away from the courtyard, his silhouette barely visible against the night. “Declan. You gave me a fright.”

“Sorry,” he croaks. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “Taggie’s snoring like a freight train.”

As your eyes adjust to the dark, you just catch Declan’s moustache quirk with a lazy smile. “Just like her mother.”

The comment coaxes you closer to the tub, waiting for Declan to elaborate, but whatever story he might’ve spieled evaporates with the steam from the water. The heated pool was just another of Maud’s extravagant buys, and Declan hated the addition when it showed up in a delivery van, during summer, of all seasons, because he knew it would be forgotten about in a matter of days once she’d found something new to obsess over. There was always something with Maud. If it wasn’t an extravagant purchase to distract herself with, it was a lover, and if it wasn’t a lover, it was a trip far, far away from the Cotswolds. Her recent truancy being case in point.

There’s hardly any light in this corner of the yard, aside from a small golden glimmer beneath the hot tub surface, but it’s enough for you to take in Declan’s form. He’s lax, whiskey in hand, with his head reclined against the lip of the pool. You notice the thick smattering of chest hair across the breadth of his torso, dark and unruly. The few men you’ve ever been with have been around your age, either trimmed or unable to grow body hair where its desired. But then again, they were just boys in the scheme of things. Declan has always been so fucking manly. His already dark hair black with water, pushed away from his face like he’s slicked it back with his hands. It hasn’t stopped miniscule curls frizzing to fruition at his temples. Declan takes a sip of the amber liquid in his glass.

“If I’m being honest, I thought you’d be a tad more excited when I spoke to you this morning.” The subject change surprises you.

“Oh, trust me, I was! But–“

“But Taggie had already broken the news to you by then, hadn’t she?”

You look down at your feet, not wanting to give your friend away, but Declan knows his daughter has a hard time keeping a lid on her excitement. “It’s alright,” he chuckles. “She means well.”

“She’s a good friend. They’re hard to come by.”

You’re telling me, Declan thinks, taking a one-handed inventory of his own close companions.

The frosty air hugs you and your toes seize under its bite, even through your socks and boots. “Do you mind?” You point to the hot tub. It takes a moment for it to click in Declan’s brain that you’re asking if you can join him. It would be rude for him to say no. Stupid for him to say yes. Instead, he gives a non-commital shrug and whispers Lord, help me into his glass. Over its rim, he watches you perch on the edge of the tub to while you toe off your wellies. They land with a thud on the pavement and you giggle to yourself, oops, when one ricochets into a nearby shrub. Muscles zip up the back of your leg when you peel off your socks, and Declan has to force himself to look away when the hem of your sweater — no, his sweater, one of many Taggie had stolen away — rides dangerously high on your thighs as you swing your legs over the lip of the heated pool. He’s thankful that only one of the lights below the surface is in working order because his prick rouses when a satisfied hum seeps from you as your feet kiss the warm surface. Declan’s jaw ticks. The devil on his shoulder probes that you’re purposely torturing him and his conscious bites back that he’s a sleazy bastard for thinking as much. You’re not doing anything. You’re just here.

Get a grip on yourself, O’Hara, he scolds, and chases it with a swig of whiskey he only hopes will burn away the filthy thoughts you manage to conjure for him.

“You got another one of them?” When he faces you again, you’re pointing at the glass that’s fogged up in his sweaty palm.

“The champagne not enough for ya?”

You roll your eyes. “If you don’t want to share, just say so.”

“You can’t handle this.”

“Are you really going to sit there and tell a girl what she can and can’t handle?” you press, eyes locked in on his. “You’d be surprised what I can handle, Declan.” You don’t mean for it to sound so provocative, but challenging him has set your whole body ablaze. For good measure, you quirk an eyebrow at Declan, and the subtle move has his cock doing the same in the confines of his striped swim shorts. Without another word, Declan floats across the hot tub to where you’re seated and presses his glass into your hand. You offer a thank you in the form of a gentle smile before pressing your full, blush lips to the rim. Tilting the glass to the sky, you can feel Declan’s heavy gaze on you, watching. Waiting. You allow your eyes to fall shut as the bitter prickle of the whiskey waves over your tongue, so you don’t see him slide a hand to the back of his neck. His nails dig crecsents into the skin there, both as punishment for and distraction from the fact his mind is trekking to dark places where your lips are pressed somewhere far more sinister. He can’t keep his eyes off you while you drain what’s left of the whiskey, your eyes fluttering open when you realise there’s nothing left.

“I told you I could handle it,” you tell Declan, ignoring the slight burn that stings at the back of your throat. You both reach your hand into the small space between you, fingers grazing as you pass the glass back to Declan. 

The air between the two of you is charged. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone lit a match and the whole world went up in flames taking the pair of you with it. That same pained look that took Declan’s expression over during your interview rears its head again. Before you get the opportunity to put a name to it, a door creaks in the distance and your name echoes into the night.

“Are you out there?”

Taggie.

Taggie.

There’s a flurry of movement as Declan slides to the opposite side of the hot tub again and you all but catapult yourself onto the pavement as if you’d been caught redhanded. Doing what, you weren’t entirely sure, but you were certain it wasn’t a good look. You yank your socks over your damp feet, followed by the wellies and make a start for where the kitchen light illuminates your friend in the doorway.

“There you are!” she sighs, almost relieved, when you meet her at the step. “You alright? I thought you might’ve driven home after all.” “God, no. I’m fine! Just…” you glance over your shoulder to where the blaze of a cigarette burns in the darkness. “Just getting some air.”

Loved writing this chapter, and things are just getting started!! Reblog, share, comment: it all means the world to me!! <3

Previous chapters: Chapter 1: The Interview

[yrbutchgf]

hm

[cameronsprincess]

i understand that reqs r closed and u completely don’t have to fulfill this but i thought you’d do a BANGER job at this prompt: u and rafe r married but are getting divorced and u threw a divorce party… only to end the night going home with him… a little bit of angst with some smut?? idk make it ur own 💗

zyaaaa<3 i love you for this, and thank you for trusting ME with your request!!!

CW: 18+ only! slight angst, more fluff than i intended, divorce, smut, male receiving oral, piv sex.

note: yeah yeah reader went out w her friends but left w rafe and none of them tried to stop her. in my head none of them noticed their interaction/her leaving with him. let’s pretend they’re blowing up her phone while she’s gettin’ the best dick down of her lifeee. also, i suck at endings, its my biggest flaw so yeah sorry if the ending is bad.

“here’s to finally being free of the most toxic marriage to the most toxic man!” you say joyfully, clinking your glass with three of your closest friends.

your friends all giggle, bringing the champagne flutes to their lips and taking small sips. you glance around your house, a weight seemingly lifted off your shoulders as you take in how freeing it feels to finally have your divorce finalized. you’d been married for three years, and while it was good at first, somewhere during the marriage your— now ex— husband had become cold and indifferent toward you. you couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, nor could you give a reason why, but all you knew was enough was enough. you were too young and too beautiful to spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage to a man who treated you like shit.

your friends voice rips you from your thoughts. “earth to y/n.. you okay babe?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, giving your friend a big smile before nodding your head. “yeah i’m fine,” pausing, you down the rest of your champagne, setting the glass onto your coffee table and rising from your spot on the couch. “let’s go out tonight.”

your friends all share slightly concerned looks with one another before their attention lands on you. nicole clears her throat, awkwardly shifting before she finally speaks, “i mean.. yeah sure, but are you sure you wanna put yourself out there like that right now?”

you roll your eyes, sighing. “yes i’m sure. i just spent the last year of my life going through a messy divorce process, so i’d like to go out with my girls, have some drinks, dance a little, and maybe, just maybe, find some hot guy to bring home. i’m not going out to find my next husband, jesus.”

and that’s exactly what you did, but little did you know… the man you’d go home with was your ex husband.

—

“another shot of patrón please? thank you!” you shout to the bartender, giving him a flirty half-drunken smile.

the bartender nods, moving to pour your drink before sliding it across the bar to you. you smile, grabbing the glass and downing it before setting it back on the bars top.

“a pretty woman like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks.” a low, raspy voice says from behind you.

you bite at your bottom lip, smiling to yourself before turning to face the mystery man. your eyes widen in shock when you see rafe, standing so close to you that you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“rafe.. what the fuck are you doing here?”

he smiles down at you, taking a step closer, backing you into the bar. “i could ask you the same question. the divorce only finalized today, trying to forget me so soon, sweetheart?”

“i’m not your fucking sweetheart, rafe. now leave me alo-”

rafe grips at your hips, pulling your body into his. he dips his head down, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, groaning as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “i miss you. do you miss me?”

your pussy pulses from his words, the smell of him so intoxicating it had your head spinning more than it already was. you did love him, and you hated that he pushed you to file for divorce, but it’s how things were. you couldn’t mess up everything you’d fought for, not now, not ever.

you try and shove him back, but his hands tighten on your waist, not allowing you to move. “baby, stop. m’sorry, for everything. i know the divorce finalized today, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still fuck.. maybe try and just be friends, date, see where life takes us, right?”

he was trying to manipulate your drunk mind, and you couldn’t let him win. you refused to let him win. it was done. you were free of him, so why was he here and trying to reel you back in? he didn’t miss you, he missed the comfort you brought him, he missed how you’d always try and calm his mind, how you’d forgive him every time he fucked up. he didn’t miss you.

“rafe please, stop. i’m too drunk for this argument. you don’t fucking miss me, you miss the way i was for you,” you pause, your half-lidded eyes looking up and finding rafe’s beautiful blue eyes. “i can’t do this, please.”

you tear your eyes off his, knowing if you looked into them for too long, you’d be a goner. you’d go home with him, let him have his way with you, and wake up regretting it in the morning, because you and rafe could never work out. not as friends, not as a couple, not as anything.

rafe slides his left hand up your sides, reaching your face and cupping your cheek in his hand. his thumb slowly strokes the skin before he hooks his thumb and index finger under your chin, forcing your head up.

“baby.. i do miss you. please, just— just let me prove to you how much i fucking miss you.”

his words tug at your heartstrings, your body melting into his touch like it always did. tears well in your eyes, your chin wobbling as you look into his eyes, eyes that used to make your heart stop and made you feel safe and at home.

sighing, you nod your head once. “okay.. okay fine. just one night, we can look at it as… goodbye sex. right?”

a smile takes over rafe’s lips, “whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart. let’s go.”

he quickly grabs your hand, pulling you across the dance floor and out the doors of the club you were in. the warm, mid-summer air hits your skin, the light breeze sending goosebumps up your arms. rafe drags you across the parking lot, eagerly reaching his truck and unlocking it, opening the passenger door for you. you raise a brow at him, “someone’s really trying tonight, isn’t he? you stopped opening my door for me years ago.”

rafe chuckles. “i’m sorry for that… truly.”

you roll your eyes, giving him a small smile before lifting yourself into his truck, pulling on your seatbelt as he shuts the door for you. he rounds the front of his truck, hopping into the driver seat and starting the truck, putting it into reverse and speeding out of the clubs parking lot.

the ride back to rafe’s house is comfortably silent, and the second you two arrive, rafe is killing the engine and hopping out to help you out and into his house.

you barely make it through the front door before rafe’s lips are on yours. he grips your hips in his hands, squeezing tightly as his lips devour yours. he bites at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it softly. he rests his forehead against yours, the sound of both your heavy breathing filling the small entryway of his house.

“fuck i missed you, i missed you so fucking much sweetheart.” rafe breathes out, his hands slowly running up and down your sides.

he runs his hands down to your ass, squeezing at it softly before running them down further, his fingers playing with the hem of your dress. he begins slowly pulling the dress up your body, exposing your black lace thong, sucking in a sharp breath, “fuck.”

your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze, “rafe.. please? ‘m so horny, just need to feel you tonight, okay? just make me forget why we split up.”

rafe bites his bottom lip hard, nodding his head furiously. he pulls your dress off completely, tossing it behind you. he dips his head down again, his lips attacking the length of your neck with sloppy, open mouthed kisses. your knees grow weak, slightly shaking when he sucks softly at the skin of your neck, pulling back and groaning as he admires the deep purple bruise he’d marked you with.

“so beautiful,”

you drop to your knees, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt, finally pulling it free from the loops of his khakis and tossing it to the floor before working his button and zipper. rafe is quick to shove his khakis and boxers down, letting his hard cock spring free. you moan at the sight of him, hands reaching out hesitantly to grip at his thick shaft.

a low groan spills from rafe’s lips the second your hands wrap around him, giving slow and deliberate strokes. “always looked so pretty on your knees f’me, never wanna lose this, baby.”

you dart out your tongue, licking up the precum that had leaked from his tip. you moan at the taste of him on your tongue. you missed him, and this is definitely a huge step backward, but you’d deal with the consequences later. tonight, you wanted to soak up having him be attentive and loving with you again, he hadn’t been this way in so long.

“c’mon baby, suck my cock, need to feel those pretty lips wrapped ‘round me.”

you obey, wrapping your lips around his swollen tip and sucking at it lightly, your hands still slowly stroking at his shaft. rafe groans, his head thrown back in pleasure as his cock twitches in your hands. you slowly push more of him into your mouth, sucking him down your throat until he’s buried deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. you hold him there, breathing in deep through your nose, while your tongue works at the vein on the underside of his cock.

you pull your head back, leaving only the tip in your mouth. you tease him, sucking at his head before pulling him out completely, giving quick strokes with your hands, your lips leaving soft kisses up and down his length.

rafe wraps his hand in your hair, tugging harshly at your messy locks as he groans in frustration. “baby, please? you wanna hear me beg? i’m not beneath begging, not with you at least.”

you shift on your knees, your clit pulsing at how desperate he was for you. this is what you wanted, for rafe to be desperate for your touch and attention. not wasting another second, you push him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you begin bobbing your head up and down, taking him all the way down your throat before slowly sliding him back out. rafe’s grip on your hair loosens, but he quickly tightens it back, yanking at your hair harshly as he holds you in place. he begins thrusting his hip, fucking himself down your throat at a quick pace, taking away your air with each push of his hips.

tears roll down your face, your throat already sore from how hard he was fucking it. you gag and moan around him, feeling him twitch in your mouth, the vein on the bottom of his shaft throbbing. you work your tongue against him, helping push him toward his release. rafe’s cock swells, low curses falling from his lips. he yanks your head back by your hair, his cock slipping from your lips, “goddamn… forgot how good you take a throat fucking, baby.. but i wanna cum somewhere else tonight.”

your tear-filled, bloodshot eyes meet his and he extends his hand out for you to grab. you hesitantly place your smaller hand in his, letting him pull you up off your knees. his lips are on yours in seconds, tongue slipping into your mouth, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. rafe listen you off the ground, pulling you into his arms as your legs wrap around his waist. he walks you into the large living room, his lips never leaving yours. he finally breaks the kiss, gently dropping you onto his couch, the cool leather chilling your hot skin.

rafe drops to his knees, his fingers digging into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs and tossing them onto the coffee table behind him. his eyes flit down to your dripping pussy, the bright blue of his eyes drowned out by his blown pupils. he grips your thighs in his hands, roughly spreading them further apart, “you’re soaked, sweetheart. i knew you fuckin’ missed me.”

you whimper, rolling your hips in a silent plea for him to touch you. rafe chuckles, his right hand releasing your thigh and moving to cup your pussy. he slides two fingers through your slick folds, coating them in your arousal before bringing them to his lips, “mmm.. still so sweet.” he rasps.

rafe stands to his full height, lifting you off the couch and turning, sitting himself down with you in his lap. you grind yourself against his hard cock, moaning at the delicious pressure on your clit as you did. rafe lets his head fall back, his hands tightly gripping at your ass as he helped you slide yourself against his throbbing cock. you lift yourself onto your feet, hovering over him as you grasp his shaft in one hand, lining him with your entrance. rafe’s eyes find yours, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he waited to finally feel your pussy wrapped around him.

you slowly sink yourself down on his cock, the two of you moaning in unison. you sit yourself all the way down, burying him to the hilt, both of your hands flying to his shoulders, your nails digging into the soft skin. rafe hisses in a breath, his cock pulsing inside you, “can i move? please baby? wanna fuck this perfect fucking pussy.”

you whimper when he bucks his hips, the swollen head of his cock hitting at your sweet spot. “yes. please, rafe. please fuck me.”

that’s all rafe needed to hear. his hands make purchase on your hips, lifting you up off his cock, leaving only the tip inside before he slams himself back in. you cry out his name, leaning forward and burying your face in his neck. rafe lifts your hips slightly, allowing himself just enough room to quickly pound himself into you. your walls clench around him, tears rolling down your cheeks from the pleasure he was giving you but also because you knew, you couldn’t let him go again after this.

you lift your face from his neck, resting your forehead against his, the two of you staring into each others eyes as rafe continues to fuck himself inside you. rafe pulls his right hand off your hip, his thrusts slowing as he reaches up and swipes a tear from your cheek. “don’t cry, baby.”

you sniffle, “just feels so… fuck— so good, rafe.”

rafe slowly moves his hips, his thrusts slow and sensual. you cup his face in your hands, your eyes scanning his perfect face before falling to his lips. rafe leans forward, capturing your lips with his as the two of you move your hips in sync. you moan against his lips, your walls fluttering around his cock, “rafe.. ‘m so close… please..”

“i know baby… i know,” rafe lets out his out pleasure filled moan, his voice cracking as the next words leave his mouth, “i love you… fuck i love you, this is all about you, let it out, be my good girl and cum f’me, yeah?”

you let out a choked sob, the three small words that left his mouth pulling your heart in more ways than one. your mind is reeling, does he mean it? was losing you what he needed to realize he truly loves you and needs you? do you forgive him? your pussy clenches around rafe’s dick, your lower belly tightening as rafe’s slow strokes push you toward the edge. you sink your teeth into rafe’s shoulder, muffling your cries as you come undone around him, tears uncontrollably rolling down your face.

rafe groans, his thrusts slow and sloppy. his dick twitches inside you, a choked “i love you,” escaping him as he pushes in deep one final time, holding himself inside you as he fills your pussy with his cum.

the two of you are holding onto one another, coming down from your shared highs. heavy breathing fills the room, and when you fully come down from your bliss, you’re pulling yourself off of him, scrambling to find your panties, ignoring the wetness between your thighs and his cum seeping out of you. you’re quick to throw your panties on, turning to rush and find your dress, but rafe grabs your wrist, pulling you back into him.

you can’t look at him, “hey.. baby, look at me, please.”

a tear falls down your face, but you force yourself to look into his eyes, noticing that his are filled with his own unshed tears.

“this was a mistake.” you whisper, but rafe heard you anyways.

his brows furrow, “how can you say that?”

you try and push off of him, but he tightens his arms around you.

“rafe, please. we got a divorce. you made your bed, you chose to treat me like shit and lose me. we can’t work. we don’t work.”

rafe sighs, “listen. i meant everything i said, i’m fucking sorry. i love you, i just… goddamnit, i just suck at showing my emotions. i suck at letting people in, and because of that, i pushed you away and lost the best fucking thing that ever happened to me,” you laugh, rolling your eyes but rafe’s face never falters. “i’m not fucking joking. i fucking love you, okay? okay, y/n? i fucking love you, and i need you.”

you don’t know what to think. your divorce was just finalized, you can’t possibly go back… can you? you do love him, and never wanted this in the first place. what if you take him back and things go back to shit? you’ll look like an idiot.

rafe cups your face in his hands, his blue eyes shining as he stares back at you. “i see you overthinking this, and i understand. i do. but hear me out, please?”

“o—okay..”

rafe blows out a breath. “thank you. i know how i feel. i fucked up, and i want to prove to you that i can be better… for you. please, just, stay with me tonight, let me try and get a start on proving to you how much i need you back,” he pauses, swallowing harshly before he continues, “and if after tonight, you still feel the same.. you can leave and i’ll never bother you again.”

you think over his words, knowing that you would do anything to receive the love you once did from him again. you squeeze your eyes shut, running a hand through your hair as you let out a shaky breath. “rafe, i— fuck.. okay. fine. but if i do choose to take you back, you cannot go back to how things were. i can’t go through this again, i can’t look like the idiot who went running back just because her ex husband spewed a few sweet words after sex..”

rafe smiles hopefully, “i understand, i promise, i mean everything. i will prove to you how much i fucking love you,” he leaves a soft kiss to your lips, standing from the couch with you in his arms bridal style. “now, let’s get your upstairs and cleaned up, then we’ll lay in bed and we can talk about anything, whatever you want, tonight’s all about you, and i’m here to listen and do whatever i can to fix us.”

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @rafesbabygirlx @sarahsangelicdoll @nemesyaaa @cherryobx @httpsdrewstarkey @rafeyscurtainbangs @oceandriveab

[unclewaynemunson]

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

[arachpool]

Transmasc!James who hasn’t told a single person outside of his family, not even Sirius knows until he begins to live with the Potters. It got sorted out at Hogwarts so no one would ever know, and it wouldn’t get figured out, he would just be James. No one knew what was in the past. James had always been James. No one could ever figure it out.

Ideally.

James’ whole perfect set up seemingly crumbled to the ground after a Quidditch game against slytherin that ended too quickly and resulted in an overall win, but didn’t really commemorate toward the House Cup due to lack of points and a too-quick catch of the Snitch. James was eager, sue him.

He was alone in the locker room, as usual, as he always waited for the rest of his team to exit before even beginning to change. He had been in the middle of changing when Regulus barged in, clearly in the wrong locker room.

Dread was barely enough to explain the way James felt, yanking his robes to his chest to hopefully cover the dark crimson binder that constricted his chest. Regulus noticed it. Of course he did. He was too observant not too.

Regulus wasn’t stupid. It clicked awfully quick for him, and then how drastic this must feel for James hit him like a brick. Eyes widening, he made quick work of an exit, huffing out an apology.

James nearly cried that night, and decided confronting Regulus would be the best option.

So he managed to find the younger before Quidditch practice, tugging him into a random empty classroom.

“What, Potter?” Regulus asked with slight annoyance at being disrupted. James swallowed.

“Yesterday. About yesterday.” It clicked in Regulus’ head what James was getting at. Regulus blinked up at the brunet. “Can you not…tell anyone? Like- please? I just-”

“That I walked into the wrong changing room? Potter, why in the world would I tell anyone that?” Regulus quickly covered, shaking his head in mock annoyance. James blinked. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Regulus knew. He also knew Regulus was obviously already denying the concept. A warm smile spread across James’ face, one that made Regulus’ heart skip.

“Thank you, Regulus.”

“Sure, Potter. Sure.” Regulus left the classroom as quickly as possible, desperately attempting to shake the feeling in his chest.

Months passed, and with each one, James and Regulus grew closer. It wasn’t intentional at first, James would beg to be Lily’s plus one to Slughorn’s Slug Club parties, and Regulus was a part of them, and who could really blame James for gawking at Regulus when he first saw him in dress clothes. They’d talk at the parties, more words being spoken at each one until they started hanging out outside of these things; sneaking up to the Astronomy tower at night, huddling under James’ invisibility cloak as they searched the castle for places to just hang out without the chance of being caught.

Until one day, James trudges into breakfast looking like fresh hell, and barely speaks to any of his friends. As if knowing this was a monthly occurrence, none of his friends even batted an eye at the mood shift. Sirius even continued on like nothing was different. Regulus had noted this during prior months, but didn’t care as much as he did now.

Again, Regulus wasn’t stupid. He could put two and two together.

So after James rejects Regulus’ offer to hang out after practice, James is wholly shocked to find a pile of items sitting on his bed when he enters the guys’ dorm that night. Peter and Remus had already knocked out, it being so close to a full moon that Remus was too exhausted to even bother going to Sirius and James’ practice. Sirius was too clingy to notice it, crawling into bed with Remus almost instantly.

James, on the other hand, was gentle with his random gifts as he examined them. On his bed sat a dark green blanket and a small box with a note placed atop it. He unfolded the note gingerly, smiling stupidly at Regulus’ neat handwriting.

My sun,

The blanket has a heating charm on it for you, and the box has some chocolate frogs and also chocolate from the kitchen. I had a House elf deliver it for me. I hope you feel better.

-R.A.B.

James couldn’t help the grin that plastered over his face. He sunk into the bed, positioning himself with the new blanket and popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

The next morning, Regulus was hit in the temple with a paper airplane. He gave an irate glance toward the origin before melting at James’ goofy grin. He neatly unfolded the parchment, smiling at the messily scrawled out ‘thank you I luv ya’ in still wet ink.

[cherryhak]

Still care - Han Taesan

.pairing : Han Taesan x reader

.genre : fluff, exes to ??, taesan reaches out to reader after 2 months, kinda rushed, she/her used, mention of Sungho, no angst dw, happy ending ig

.warnings : none ?, mention of stressed and being burned out from studying, also skipping meals

.wc : 1.3k

Taesan observed your figure from across the room watching as your eyebrows scrunched in concentration but also taking notice of the constant tapping of your foot against the floor and the way your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth ; you were clearly stressed, burned out even.

But taesan couldn’t do anything about it, not anymore.

He could only watch from afar, hoping that you would take a break by yourself even though, deep down, he knew you wouldn’t.

« you still care, don’t you? » a voice snapped him back to reality

« what? » he absentmindedly answered shifting his gaze from your figure to the owner of the voice ; Sungho.

« You still care » the eldest carefully repeated.

Now Taesan was confused « About what ? »

« Y/n, » he motioned his head in your direction « you still care about her »

Taesan simply looked at his friend’s face for a few seconds, silent, before moving his gaze back to you. Your head was now buried in your arms and you were seemingly taking a nap.

He was relieved at the sight of you finally taking a break after what seemed to be a couple of hours, but then Sungho’s question dawned on him.

“you still care, don’t you?”

« Do I ? » he asked himself out loud.

He knew he still did but after what happened it was hard for him to sort everything out.

He missed you, he wanted to go back to you and hold you in his arms but he also respected the fact that you didn’t want any of that.

He would never do something you didn’t want. And that’s why for the past 2 months, ever since your mutual break up, Taesan has been fighting the urge to run up to you and hug you, beg for you to come back to him.

If you wanted to keep your distance then that’s what Taesan was gonna do, cause that’s what you wanted.

« Have you spoken to her ? Recently, i mean » Sungho asked

« No i haven’t »

The boy was slightly shocked by the youngest’s answer. He expected you guys to stay friends as you ended things on a good note

« Why ? »

« She doesn’t want to talk to me.. i guess » he whispered the last part

« Did she tell you that ? » Sungho asked, already knowing the answer to that.

Taesan simply stayed silent looking down at his lap, fingers playing with the matching ring he still wore.

Sungho had a point, you never actually said you wanted to keep your distance, he just assumed you did.

« Right, » Sungho started, catching the boy’s attention once more « so why don’t you go talk to her ? »

Taesan snapped his head up at his friend’s suggestion, already feeling the nerve wrecking feeling dawning on him. « Right now ? No way. She probably doesn’t want to see me-»

Sungho stopped his ramble before he could go any further

« To me, it looks like she needs comfort right now, » he looked in your direction— you were gripping your hair, letting yet another sigh out of your mouth. You looked like you would lose it any moment now. « and you’re the only one who could give her comfort, Taesan. »

Taesan sighed, following Sungho’s eyes and analyzing your stressed figure.

You sure looked like you needed some comfort but did you need it from him ? Surely he was the last person you wanted to see right now, right ?

His racing mind was quickly interrupted by a hand landing on his shoulder

« Go » the older encouraged, patting his shoulder.

Taesan pondered for a minute. He could not just go and sit next to you that would be ridiculous. He had to find something— anything to talk to you.

He looked at you once more before making up his mind and walking to the vending machine at the corner of the study room.

He knew how you were when finals were approaching ; you spent so much time studying that you lost track of time and ended up skipping meals, feeling stressed and tired.

He felt like he had to do something, even just making sure you took a five minutes break, anything.

He pressed the number on the machine and inserted a coin resulting in a small strawberry milk carton dropping into the tray.

As he grabbed it, Taesan felt his heartbeat getting faster in anticipation.

What if you reject him ? What if you just straight up ignore him ?

He exhaled a shaky breath and made his way over to your table.

Papers and books were messily scattered all over the table, your hand supporting your head and your glasses were slowly falling off of your nose as you had your head buried in one of your many textbooks.

You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the man pulling up a chair and sitting right in front you.

A small thud stole your attention, looking up to see a pink and white strawberry milk carton being set down on the table.

Your tired eyes trailed up to the man in front of you and that’s when you froze.

Han Taesan was right before your eyes and for a second you thought the lack of sleep was making you see things but before you could say anything he beat you to it.

« You’ve been skipping meals, am i wrong ? » he said, taking the carton and opening it before handing it to you

« Your favorite » he smiled shyly.

Stunned would be an understatement to describe how you were feeling but you tried to maintain your composure, muttering a small “thanks” as you took the milk from his hand.

« I know im probably the last person you wanna hear that from but you really should take a break from studying so much »

You eyed him suspiciously as you took a sip of the strawberry flavored milk, waiting for him to continue.

The boy sighed at your lack of reaction, seemingly realizing that he’ll have to explain himself.

« I still care, » he started « about you and your health.. i mean, i know how you get when you’re stressed so i was making sure you were doing okay. You know… as friends »

You let a small smile spread on your face upon hearing those words

« You still care? » you asked softly

« I do » he was looking everywhere but your eyes

« And here i thought you didn’t wanna hear from me » you chuckled to yourself

« What ? » his wide, shocked eyes met yours for the first time « What do you mean? »

« I don’t know.. i just assumed you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore »

His head dropped as a laugh erupted from him and you were not sure how to interpret it, really.

« That’s crazy, » a hand came up to rub his face in frustration as his laughter died down.

Now you remember, it was his embarrassed laugh.

« I thought you didn’t want to hear from me » he said, empathizing the “I”

« What- Why ? »

« I don’t know, i just assumed you did » he looked at you with tender eyes as it was now your turn to laugh.

« I missed that »

« Missed what? »

He rested his head on his palm, looking at you with that soft smile you fell in love with « that laugh of yours »

A small, comfortable silence took place as you both just looked at each other, rediscovering one another after 2 months apart.

« Taesan » you called out

« Hm? »

Your hand reach for his across the table, intertwining your fingers together just like muscle memory.

You take notice of the ring still adorning his finger even after your break up and you smile, looking at your left hand also wearing the ring.

Taesan notices it too and his smile grows wider, squeezing your hand affectionately.

« I still care too »

[jazzsonly]

ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ

pairing(s): sam carpenter x g!p!stem!reader

warning(s): none. very very brief kiss. mentions of reader being a nerd/nerd-like. not proofread.

summary: sam might have said no to your date but you get something even better.

part two. coming soon!

────────✯────────

when you met chad, you’d never thought you would become best friends with a guy like him. he was an idiot jock, who liked to party and be shirtless.

you were a smart tutor, a somehow homebody who liked to party. so i guess, you could say that’s what you guys had in common,

partying.

you tutored chad every wednesday but one weekend at a frat party you bumped into the jock, surprisingly ending up having a drinking contest. you found it a little odd to be drinking with the same guy you’re tutoring but chad found it cool, he found you cool. he had never met anyone as smart as you but now he had never met anyone more fun than you.

as much as he loved his friends if core four, he couldn’t deny you were down for things with him they wouldn’t be. after, the partying and drinking contest together, you both got more comfortable together, setting up study dates at each other’s apartments.

those study dates eventually became call of duty battles, checking out the girls on campus together, sometimes hitting the gym together. there was no denying you and chad were newly best friends, despite ethan’s sulking jealousy.

now, you were glad you met chad but even more glad when he introduced you to the core four, more importantly sam.

sam.

you were no better than a man when you first laid your eyes on the girl, you stared at her like she was a piece of meat. it was so bad that now everytime she entered room and you were there, chad just had to joke telling you to close your mouth.

you were sure sam sorta kinda had thing for you too, from chad she was super uptight with new people, definitely not a trusting person but with you, she was chill. she sat next to you during movie nights, shared the popcorn with you, sometimes she even laid her legs in your lap.

this enflamed your crush even more, well until tara claimed it was only because she thought anyone chad brought around was just as dumb as him. and no dumb person could be ghostface.

but she was wrong, you were top of all your classes, well almost all.

fuck chemistry.

“chad, focus.” you slap the back of the boy’s head who had dozed off at the sight of tara.

“ow! i am focused!”

“stop being a baby, i didn’t even hit you that hard. now, how many vertices are in this problem?” you point at the math sketch in the textbook.

“uh…7?” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

you had been at the kitchen counter for hours trying to tutor chad but he had only gotten two questions right.

“look, don’t get mad at me you’re the one who supposed to help me know this stuff.”

“you’re impossible to teach!” you throw your hands up, dramatically letting them fall back down.

“what are you doing?” you turn your head a the familiar voice, your favorite voice.

sam who had just emerged from her room from a hibernated nap.

“trying to tutor this idiot.”

“hey!” you ignore chad, all you energy engorged with sam.

“you? tutor?”

“uh, yeah, i’m top of all my classes…well except for one.” stupid chemistry, you thought.

“you are?” you nod.

“then why are you friends with chad?”

“hey!”

“i ask myself the same thing.” sam just nods at your words, making her way to the fridge.

“can we take a break now?” you flag chad off and he takes that was his leeway to take the couch with tara.

“soo…sam?” you move your way around the counter.

“yea?” she answered despite her back away from you as her eyes scanned the fridge.

“i was thinking, i mean if you want to uh go to a movie with me?”

you watched as her movements paused and she turned towards you, you couldn’t pinpoint what she was feeling or her facial expression but there was something there.

“sorry but i can’t…” she trailed off, closing the fridge and seemingly retreating back down the hallway into her room.

you stood there, dumbfounded.

dumbfounded yet unphased, if sam carptener’s love was a challenge the nerd in you would gladly accept it.

“she’s not gonna give up, just watch.” you hear chad mumble to tara, which you flipped him off.

in the coming weeks after that you expected sam to avoid you like a plague but she did the opposite, it was like everytime you were over she went out of her way to be around you. making sure to touch your shoulder when she moved by you, hugging you as a greeting, hell she even cuddled with you on movie nights and to say the least, you did not mind.

but what you did mind was when you asked about her rejecting your advances, she would avoid it.

once again the nerd in you would not allow this, you would get to the bottom of it and right now was the perfect timing. everyone had left to the store to collect snacks for movie night, minus chad who was in tara’s room doing god knows what with the girl.

it was just you and sam, empty and open apartment, side by side on the couch while family feud played.

“so, you’re really not gonna tell me why you won’t go out with me?”

“you don’t give up do you?” the carpenter turned you, resting her hand on the back of your head, fingers getting tangled in your hair.

see.

“you’re so clingy when i’m here, so why won’t you go out with me?” you watched as she bit her lip, suppressing a taunting smile from you.

“you’re cute, you know, i think you’re cute.”

you smile, “i think you’re cute too, so go out with me?”

a breathy chuckle came from the girls lips, and she moved close to you.

“kiss me.”

“what?” you were taken back.

“kiss me before i change my mind.” and then you didn’t hesitate. you closed the little space that was between you two, landing a soft but stern kiss onto her lips. your hands finding her hips, pulling her closer and her arms found their way around your neck.

a sigh of relief and satisfaction somehow escaped your lips, while a hum escaped hers. her kiss was candy mint, it tastes good and you didn’t wanna stop but unfortunately air became an issue and you reluctantly pulled away, “so does this mean i can take you out?”

“stop asking me out.” she scoots away just in time because the door flew open and in came ethan with bags on bags while anika and mindy came behind with empty hands.

“thanks for the help.” ethan mutters sarcastically.

━━━ part two (coming soon!) take it easy on me, it’s my first time writing in MONTHS.

[ichayalovesyou]

Why Do Old-School TV Duos Have SUCH MLM Vibes?!

I think there’s something very specific about the formula and writing style of non-serialized/semi-serialized shows from the 60s to 80s that featured two grown men going on wacky dangerous adventures that makes my gay little literary analysis brain go absolutely off the wall bonkers. I’m trying to figure out why!

I’m writing this on my Trek blog because I don’t think this pattern in people actually shipping these types of relationships the way they do if fandom as we know it wasn’t born via TOS in syndication. That being said! I also think it has to do with the way these shows are designed that makes myself and others OBSESSED with a specific character dynamic that feels (to me) damn near impossible to replicate in modern television. In a way that’s more than just fandom, it’s in the way TV like this was written at the time!

Further explanation under the cut!

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

I think what it usually boils down to is this. There’s a charming protagonist whom without the series could not operate, frequently top billed or the title character! (See: Wild Wild West, Starsky & Hutch) BUT he doesn’t have anyone to play off of! So what do they do pretty much every single time? Give Mr. Idealized Vision of Time-Period Masculinity For Genre a second guy to rhyme with!

See but the other guy has to play opposite but parallel to our hypermasculine protagonist. So what frequently ends up happening is that in order to play off our “normal” guy, even though he’s also a white dude, is that he’s still somehow Other.

They’re always perfect for each other, and they always get into scenarios that would be written, shot and interpreted by conventional audiences as romantic IF either one of those characters were a woman! Especially at the time these shows were made in.

If the one is aggressive, the other is gentle. If the protagonist is violent, his counterpart is intellectual. If the one is stoic, the other is emotional. Which (while one size def doesn’t fit all) usually makes the second guy come off as much more queer-coded (and sometimes other minorities like neurodivergent/disabled etc) than the other because of the traits associated with masculinity vs gayness at the time! Our prime examples in these gifs are Spock, Hutch, Artemus, and also *BJ!

*(M*A*S*H is a bit of a unique case since the show flirts with queerness more openly in ways that people more into the series have explained better than me but I think it still fits the formula I’m discussing.)

Here’s the thing though right? We’ve got two best friends, and the show NEVER really feels right if one of them is missing unless the focus of the story is how A & B operate without each other while trying to find the other one. They stick with and rescue each other unfailingly in scenarios that might destroy a regular friendship.

Hell, there’s often stuff that would emotionally/physically destroy a regular person/character in modern media. But because it’s not serialized they always seem to pull through seemingly through the power of friendship alone or dealing with it off-screen! Emotional consequences? Yuck! (Unless it’s M*A*S*H or Starsky & Hutch, like I said, not monolithic)

Here’s the thing that some people might say throws a wrench into the interpretation I’m discussing. What about the absolutely non-stop parade of conventionally attractive women the main protagonist (and less frequently the supporting man) goes through?

I would reply: how many of those female characters actually emotionally impact our protagonists as characters long term?

The answer is of course, because it’s NOT serialized, almost none! Kirk can watch Edith Keeler get killed by a car accident and still be making eyes at Spock the next episode. Hawkeye can have a “life changing” romance with a Vietnamese humanitarian woman, then share a blanket with BJ next episode like she never existed!

The Doylist explanation of course is not just the fact it wasn’t serialized but also just, constant, blatant 20th century sexism. Which SUCKS!!! As well as not wanting a long term love interest to throw off the character dynamic of our duderagonists. It’s the 20th century tv equivalent of bros before hoes.

However the Watsonian explanation always seems to result in no love interest EVER being more important than what the two protagonists have no matter whether you think they’re queer or not. No attractive woman could make our reputed babe-hound protagonist abandon his buddy. There’s no earnest romance our more queer-coded supporting man doesn’t end (or get ended for him) often for the protagonist’s sake.

Now some of these women are incredibly well written and straight up GOOD matches for our guys. So why wouldn’t they get involved in something long term UNLESS!! They were in love with each other the WHOLE time?

What if protagonist (frequently the babe hound) doesnt know he’s queer, or knows but doesn’t know he’s in love with his bestie, or any number of similar fruity explanations? The supporting man also runs into this explanation but people tend to believe he’s already aware that he’s queer but either also doesn’t know he’s in love or is keeping it to himself because time-period homophobia and/or thinking (probably not unreasonably) that babe hound is straight?

Between the inherent closeness of being narrative foils. The regularly scheduled life or death drama creating sometimes insanely romantic (in the narrative if not a literal sense) drama between the two. The revolving door of weekly women they never seem to get attached to enough to leave one another. The non-serialized nature resulting in sparse personal information/history about the protagonists as a result.

I think between the very NATURE of the way tv shows were written at the time. Plus the way fandom was shaped by a dynamic that has rippled through how media works and is interpreted by fans for decades upon decades. It’s not hard to imagine getting really emotionally invested in the possibility of the protagonists being in love is a fantastic way to enjoy the media!

In conclusion, it’s really fun and easy to go “these bitches gay! Good for them good for them!”

[yichens]

Pit Babe Characters x Cartomancy ➣ Part 5: Winner & Dean

Jack of Clubs: Reckless and a little too sure of himself. Gets in trouble a lot because of his bad temper. Seven of Spades: A card of bad luck and loss. Making hasty decisions out of frustration.

for @pitbabeanniversary week 5 prompts: winner & dean

(more thoughts under the cut!)

disclaimer: i am not an expert in either cartomancy or tarot reading. i did a lot of research on these two sites to come up with these cards for the characters. some of the meanings associated with the cards are still only my own interpretation, so they might not be completely accurate.

when i started this series, i was sure of only two pairs and their colors: babe and charlie would be blue, and winner and dean would be red, just like the team colors. so here we are, the only pair to have only black suits for their cards, ironically depicted in blood red.

winner: i was a little disappointed that there isn't "the biggest asshole" card in the deck, but i guess it makes sense that each card has good and bad sides, just like us humans and our lives have good and bad in them. so, winner gets the "winner card" (i am endlessly amused by winner's nickname when he's such a loser (affectionate) in the series). he gets the card that always reaches for the first place, for the biggest prize.

jack of clubs is the card that approaches everything with great passion and enthusiasm. they have endless energy, so they often participate in some kind of competitive sport. they're confident, courageous, and charming. but they're also arrogant, quick tempered, shallow, and thoughtless. which i think summarizes winner perfectly bc he's almost always insufferable and hard to handle, has a loud mouth, and begs to get punched. also please for the love of god, someone take the gun away from him.

dean: obviously a spade which as a suit is often linked to challenges and obstacles as well as failures and losses. overall, i don't think dean is a bad guy; i know he's trying his best and cares for his pack. he's like a son to alan, and a little brother to north and sonic etc. he just has a lot of ambition and big dreams, and i understand his frustration when it seems that he will be kept from accomplishing anything. he wants to be a star, and it must suck to notice that your efforts don't matter. especially when someone like charlie takes your place from right under your nose seemingly without any effort.

the most fitting thing about the seven of spades for dean is the experience of lacking progress. dean isn't moving forward the way he wanted which eventually leads him into making bad choices and big mistakes. he accepts kenta's offer that dooms him, sets him up for failure and abandonment. i believe him when he says he never meant for charlie to actually die (which he doesn't but dean never gets to know that) bc dean is not evil. he's just a human who feels like he's been treated unfairly and no one seems to recognize that, no one else but tony. it's painful how such things can be so easily used. that's probably why his betrayal completely blindsides the rest of the pack, never realizing how deep dean's disappointment is.

as a pair, i find it most amusing that winner and dean ended up with a ton of parallels linked to the other pairs and their cards. they're a pair of jack and seven just like kenta and kim. winner even has the same suit, clubs, as kim which you can interpret in multiple ways (they're not the same person, but they somehow occupy a similar place in the story, yet approach it differently). meanwhile, dean has the same suit as charlie and they're only two numbers apart. interestingly enough, six of spades that falls between them, is the card of completion and healing. it's the card that represents a quiet, almost stale period in life after something big has happened. it promises better things in the future, but first you need to center yourself again.

none of these parallels were intentional, but i find it fitting that they happened anyway. i can't really see winner and dean as a proper pair bc they don't actually even meet much in the series, but they are tightly connected to the others and all the big events that transpire. maybe it's meant to be then that they connect to the others rather than to each other. they are puzzle pieces and without them, the picture wouldn't be completed.

[crazyoffher]

PARANOID.

wednesday addams x fem!reader

summary: wednesday becomes what one would call "jealous" and the only way to get her to stop is through confession.

warnings: none.

word amount: 2300+

a/n: this is a rewrite of my old wednesday fic "jealousy doesn't suit me well" (old version now archived)

Ajax, a gorgon boy, was somebody that you considered your best friend. He was one, if not the most energetic person you’ve met beside Enid. You loved him dearly, seeing as he was the only person willing to even sit next to you in class when you first started at Nevermore, and your friendship with him quickly grew.

In present time, you hung out with a newcomer in the same year as you, a deathly Wednesday Addams, more than you hung out with Ajax. He understood well, seeing as your crush on the monotone girl grew like wildfire and he was distancing himself from you too, finding his time consumed by day-to-day dealing with his own crush.

A nice, peculiar girl by the name of Enid Sinclair, but God, did she have to annoy you that much? You knew she only ever meant well, so you tolerated her for the sake of Wednesday and Ajax.

As the months drew closer to summer, you made a pact with the gorgon that you would hang out with him a lot more for the sake of friendship, homework, and crushes. That put a toll on Enid, constantly being cornered by the girl and swearing to make pinky promises that you weren’t sneakily getting with him, which you mentally gagged at the thought of.

He was a nice guy. Well groomed, kind-hearted, intelligent, and attractive, but he just wasn’t for you. After all, your eyes grew into hearts only for one psychotic goth girl.

On the topic of her, your constant hanging out didn’t only affect Enid, but Wednesday too, the girl seemingly more sullen and dead-eyed when you’d drop by her dorm to say goodnight after spending the entire day with Ajax. She constantly bombared you with questions…

“Where were you?”

“Were you alone with him?”

“Why do you feel the need to constantly be in his presence?”

And every time, you’d give her the same answer.

“I can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a lie, you genuinely couldn’t for the life of your own sanity and Ajax’s. She’d shut up after your responses, to your surprise, and give you a small goodbye before shutting the door in your face.

You felt bad, and you’d only hope your plan would work out in the end. Your shreds of hope being thin didn’t ever help your nerves as the days passed by like television calendar montages, paper after paper being discarded because you just couldn’t form your emotions right.

In the present timeline, your head was lulled down as you made your way through the halls of Ophelia, walking down the pathway mindlessly with your feet stuttering a bit as if you were a drunkard. Your hand rummaged in your pants, desperately trying to get a grip on the slippery key, and you shut your eyes in contentment when you pulled the metallic object out of your pocket.

“Finally.” A mutter was vocalized from nobody but you, rubbing your eyes with your other hand from your need for rest as you trudged up to your dorm room door, the space empty as your former roommate had recently faced expulsion for a reason that was still classified as unknown. You shoved the key into the lock with might, hand clasping over your mouth as you let out a deep yawn, feet stuttering once more into the room.

You were tired, but even saying that was an understatement. You felt close to death, your classes taking their normal toll on you, and you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to help Eugene get his bees in control at the tiring hour of 5:30 a.m. It had been nineteen hours since you had awakened, and last time you checked, that wasn’t a good thing in your books.

The bright lights lit up the room immediately after flipping the switch, verbally groaning, and shutting your eyes as you walked further into the room. You soon faced your closet, squinting your eyes as you searched for a fresh pair of pajamas, but your eyes flew open, and you let out a small yelp at the voice coming from the other side of the room.

“Back so late?”

“Fuck, Wednesday!” You jumped, your hands flying to your chest in an attempt to calm your breathing. Through your widened eyes, you noticed the girl sitting on your former roommate's bed, hands intertwined and set on her lap, her posture straight, and her eyes bored into your figure. “You are aware it’s midnight, right? What’re you doing here?”

“I could only presume you were aware of the time too.” Wednesday stood up, her posture still straight, and she walked toward your study desk, fixing up the mess that consisted of pencils and papers strewn out. “Curfew was two hours ago.”

You grabbed a plain black shirt from your closet, turning to give her a quick ‘really?’ look. “Yes, because I bet you care so much about curfew. Need I remind you of the times you forced me to break the rules last year?” The gothic girl didn’t reply, shuffling your papers into one thick stack.

“It was for commendatory reasoning. I know nothing about your trips; carry on the fact that you prefer to keep them private, but I can assure myself that what it is that you’re breaking curfew for isn’t an adequate reason.” She spoke calmly, well-paced, and formally; you could only mentally snarl at her quick-wittedness.

You moved to your drawers, pulling out the first pair of shorts that revealed themselves. Wednesday faced you now, her eyes never leaving your figure as she awaited a response from you. Her eyes were filled with their normal sense of death and destruction, but almost had a small glint of… sadness?

“And yet,” you started off, shutting the drawer closed and throwing the clothes on your bed, “here you are, in my dorm instead of yours. If you’re going to berate me for rebelling against a simple curfew, at least don’t be a hypocrite about it.” 

“What were you doing today?” She disregarded your words; her body leaned against your study desk, and your head turned to face her, eyes unconsciously raking over her body from her shoulders to her legs. “It’s like you want to hear the same answer every time.”

“I’d rather not.” She pushed herself off your desk, the lingering of your eyes over her body not going unnoticed, a small smirk begging to form against her lips. “I was hoping to get a different answer from you—the truthful one, you could call it.”

“The truthful one?” You questioned. She did a curt nod, her bangs jumping slightly from the movement. “Fine. I went to Séance Society at 1:30, Archery Club at 2:30, and then Ajax and I went into town. We stopped at the Weathervane for coffee and to do homework, then we walked around before we went to a corner store to buy snacks. We waddled all the way back to the school grounds, and here I am.”

At the end of your sentence, you pointed to your shoes, marking your location. Wednesday only sucked her teeth, taking a step forward before crossing her arms. “And?”

Your lips thinned, with dimples popping out at the action, and you tried your hardest not to create an outburst. You questioned how you'd managed to develop a crush on her when she drives you crazy. “That’s it. Why do you care so much?”

Wednesday’s expression didn’t change, but she was having a mental battle with figuring out an excuse to say that would sound like her. “You are my friend, and I care about my friends.” That didn’t sound like her at all. “I must know your whereabouts at all times for your safety.”

“Bullshit.” You stated, your gaze now fixed on her. “You wouldn’t ever admit that, meaning that those words were an on-the-spot lie-”

“Well, we’re not on the topic of me right now.” She interrupted, annoyance lacing her voice at your accusations—your true accusations. “We’re conversing about you and your secrecy. Tell me what you do with him; I’m not asking anymore.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you let out an agitated huff at her sternness. Your mind was in a battle, deciding whether today was the day or if you should just tell her half the truth. Would Ajax kill you? Maybe, but your confidence was at an all-time low, and you had no other options.

“Ajax’s been discussing with me a... uhm, sort of... plan about Enid. Ajax has a crush on her, and we’ve been figuring out a way for him to, er, confess his feelings to her so they can date. Yeah…” 

God, did you suck at lying, and Wednesday could see right through you. She advanced toward you this time, and from the distance between the two of you, you could see the mixed emotions welling up in her gaze. “What else?”

“Wh-that’s it, Wednesday. I swear-”

“But your swears mean nothing.” Ouch. “You couldn’t hold eye contact with me; your words were faltering; your fingers were itching at your arm; and your voice was half an octave higher. I firmly believe you are truthful in your speech about Ajax and Enid, but you’re lying to me about it being the whole truth.”

You gulped, your brain shredding under her gaze, and you thought hard. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5-

“Fine!” You huffed, stomping to the front door and crouching down to pick up the bag that you left. Wednesday would rather die than admit that she mentally flinched at your tone, watching as you ruffled around in the bag before pulling out a journal.

“Now is not the time to ask for my help on your homework, (Y/L/N).” You shook your head at her words, walking back to where you stood before and opening up the journal on a random page. Inside that page was a folded piece of paper, and your fingers twitched as you went to pick it up.

To say your nerves were at their peak would be a trivialization when you looked up and saw Wednesday standing directly in front of you, staring at you with narrowed eyes. You drew your hand out in her direction, silently telling her to take the paper, which she did not. “What is that?”

“Read it and find out. Not today, though! Tomorrow seems like a goo-” Wednesday took the paper, carelessly opening it, and her eyebrows scrunched when she saw how much was written. She looked up at you with curious eyes, not preparing to be outside your dorm room with the door slammed in her face a couple of seconds later.

You sank into the door, hands over your face, and you screamed, the sounds of embarrassment muffled. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” You repeated, bolting away from the door, settling into your chair, and gasping for air. You sat there for about thirty seconds, though it felt like hours, when a knock was placed on the door.

"Y/N, open the door," Your ears pick up Wednesday's voice, which is quieter than you anticipated and infused with a rare warmth. She sounded sincere rather than irritated or sarcastic.

You took a deep breath, getting up from your chair and going to unlock the door while swallowing your anxiety and peering out to see Wednesday's frustrated expression.

"Look, I know this is unexpected," you started in a voice that was shaking. ”However, what I stated in that letter is real. Wednesday, I've liked you for a while.”

It was like a major weight was taken off of your shoulders. You had finally confessed to the girl you’d been chasing for over a year, and you watched a battle happen through her eyes, multiple emotions mixed in her mind and overdosing her brain.

There’s a slight shift in Wednesday's mood, and you can see the turmoil in her eyes. "I do not understand why you would think that about me. I'm not exactly the easiest person to be around," she acknowledged, her tone containing a hint of vulnerability. Your eyes softened at her words, a pang of sympathy coursing through you for the girl. 

She had been so despised, so targeted, even if most of it was her fault, that it broke her down — broke her mindset down into believing that she was unlovable, even by her friends.

You take a step forward, your attention fixed on her. "You may not realize it, Wednesday, but you are incredible. You're powerful and unique, and I respect how you remain loyal to yourself regardless of what people say. Your willingness to go against standards intrigues me."

Her usually stoic face shows a small crack, a glimpse of uncertainty. "I've never been in a situation like this," she confessed quietly. You found that hard to believe; the beauty of the girl was something you drowned in most days, but you knew that it was the truth because people were afraid of her. Never you, though.

With a gentle smile, you say, "Me neither, but that's okay. If you let me, we can figure it out together."

Wednesday keeps silent for a second before taking a cautious step closer to you. "You make me feel... different, too," she confesses, carefully choosing her words. You clench your jaw to fight off the large grin that threatens to form on your face, and your heartbeat remained fast-paced, but for a different reason this time.

You reach out, taking her hand with caution in your movement. You didn’t want to make her uncomfortable in anyway, but she reassured you when she gave your hand a light squeeze. “We don’t have to figure out anything right now. Consider this… confession?” You gave her a small smile, and it grew wider when your eyes fell on the corners of her lips, watching them twitch into the smallest smile.

“Confession.”

☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @n0vabug

[euseokz]

@ eunseok — i’m so much better than him baby, let me prove it to you . . cws : none, i think . wc : 1.2k+ . genre : angst & some fluff

EX-BOYFRIEND! EUNSEOK who, even after you’ve been broken up for months, is still utterly obsessed with you.

he still thinks about you regularly, randomly texts you asking if you wanna hang out even if he knows you’ll always just tell him that the point of breaking up is that you don’t wanna be together anymore — as if he doesn’t already know that. he still hopes that you will come back to him, that you’ll ask him if he wants to give each other another chance, all his dreams getting crushed when he got word you were going out with someone else, one of his closest friends at that.

eunseok didn’t know if he was sadder because you had moved on from him so fast (you guys had been broken up for months at that point, so you definitely wouldn’t call that fast), or angrier that you had chosen sungchan of all people.

sungchan was nice, sure. eunseok obviously liked him, otherwise they wouldn’t be friends, but as your boyfriend? sungchan had to have been one of the worst choices he could think of — so, to give himself some peace of mind (and because he was butthurt and wanted to know what sungchan had that he didn’t), eunseok decided to confront you about it, showing up at your doorstep one late night, coincidentally wearing what he knew was one of your favorite shirts of his and the cologne you always used to compliment him on.

you were surprised to see him, after all, any contact he had attempted after your break-up was through text, he had never tried to actually see you again, but as soon as he opened his mouth you knew what had given him enough motivation to break the only boundary you had actually set. you still let him in, curious as to what he had to say, and that was probably your first mistake of the night, because he then went on a rant about all of sungchan’s flaws, even the ones that were completely irrelevant to you if you did become his girlfriend — something that to you still seemed so far off because you had only gone on one date, one short date that ended with you wondering why you even accepted to go on it in the first place, something that eunseok clearly didn’t know and that you didn't plan on telling him any time soon, too entertained by his desperate rambling.

eventually you did stop him, telling him that he was overreacting, that it wasn’t that serious, but then he got a look on his eyes that told you that he wasn’t joking, that to him it was that serious, the thought of you with anyone else seemingly truthfully affecting him for some reason. you assumed he would have moved on by now, that his constant pestering of your messages was something he only did as a source of entertainment since he had always enjoyed teasing you, but apparently not. eunseok still had feelings for you, and that was something you hadn’t considered, because why would he? you had broken up with him, not even giving him a full reason beyond that you wanted different things at that moment… he should hate you, so why did he still have feelings for you? when you asked him about it, eunseok himself couldn’t give you an answer, because he also didn’t know why he still felt the same way towards you after so long, why he still loved you just as much as he did months ago. sure, at first he resented you a bit, but he got over it faster than he would ever care to admit, immediately going back to loving you and wanting you back more than he had ever wanted anything else. maybe it was pathetic, but could you blame him? eunseok loved you more than he had ever loved anyone else, and to him you had always been the one, so how could he ever just forget about you? just move on as if nothing serious had ever happened between you two? that was utterly impossible, and you should have known that, he thought.

eunseok would always want you back, and when the thought that maybe he wouldn’t ever have you again crossed his mind, he had to run to you to try to prove that he was worthy of your love, that you would always be the one for him.

his confession touched you, and if you were being honest, you did miss eunseok at points, how could you not? he treated you better than anyone else ever had, made you feel things no one ever could, so why should you not still be a bit hung up on him, even if you were the one that wanted to break things up in the first place? you had never considered going back to him though, fixed on the fact that if you ever felt that you should leave him then that must have been a sign — but now, with him standing in the middle of your house, you couldn’t help but wonder if breaking things off hadn’t just been a huge mistake on your part, or maybe a step you needed to take to truly realize just how much you also loved him, because just as much as you thought that eunseok shouldn’t have feelings for you anymore, you also knew the same applied to you. you shouldn't love eunseok anymore, and you genuinely thought that you didn’t, that you were just at a point where you liked him over some fond, past memories, but that was clearly not the case, because if it was, you wouldn’t be wanting to run to his arms the second you saw him, and you wouldn’t want to kiss him as much as you wanted in that second. maybe eunseok was pathetic for still wanting you back, but then you were at the same level as him, and definitely in no position to judge.

as much embarrassment as it gave you to admit it, you told the man before you that you might also feel the same towards him, that you might still want him even if you don’t want to admit it, and to say that a look of pure glee took over eunseok’s face was probably an understatement, the realization that there was still hope for you two something that made him all too happy, way happier than he thought he would walk out of your house feeling at least. he wanted to pick you up, to envelop you in a tight embrace and promise to never let you go this time, but he held himself back, aware that wasn’t the time to do such things. so, instead, he smiled at you, that sweet smile you had unknowingly missed — that emotion, the one related to missing your ex, one you quickly realized you had been ignoring for far too long — and promised that he would do better this time, that he wouldn’t do anything that would ever even make you want to consider leaving him again, his honesty making you chuckle as you walked him towards you couch, ready to actually sit down and have a proper conversation.

[itsskyvoltage]

A Taste of Adventure

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x female! reader

Warning: None

Masterlist

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Y/N L/N had always known that life aboard the Thousand Sunny would be anything but ordinary. Being a member of the Straw Hat Pirates meant constant excitement, facing wild and unpredictable challenges alongside an even wilder crew. But nothing could have prepared her for how one seemingly harmless accident would change the dynamic between her and the captain, forever.

Luffy had always been carefree, impulsive, and a little reckless. His boundless energy and unshakable dream of becoming the Pirate King inspired everyone around him, Y/N included. His infectious laugh and genuine love for adventure had drawn her to the crew in the first place. But what she hadn’t expected was for that same reckless energy to lead to the most unexpected turn of events. It all started on an ordinary day aboard the Thousand Sunny. The sea was calm, the sun was shining, and the crew was in high spirits. Everyone was busy with their usual routines—Zoro was napping, Sanji was cooking, Usopp was tinkering with his gadgets, and Nami was keeping a close eye on the ship’s course. As for Y/N, she was helping Franky with some repairs, but Luffy, being Luffy, was busy running around the deck, looking for something fun to do.

“Hey, Y/N! Want to train with me?!” Luffy’s voice rang out, full of excitement as he dashed toward her.

Y/N barely had time to turn around before Luffy came barreling toward her with his usual enthusiasm. “Luffy, wait, you’re going to—!”

But it was too late. Luffy’s momentum sent him crashing into Y/N, and before either of them could react, they stumbled, and Y/N fell backward. Luffy tried to catch her, but in the chaotic scramble, they both ended up tangled together. The next thing Y/N knew, Luffy’s face was inches from hers, and then—smack—their lips collided.

For a moment, everything froze. The world seemed to stop as Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She could feel the warmth of Luffy’s lips against hers, soft and unexpected. It wasn’t the kind of kiss she had imagined—if she had ever imagined kissing Luffy at all. But here they were, lips pressed together in a totally unintentional, completely accidental kiss.

Luffy blinked, his wide eyes staring into hers in surprise. For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Then, Luffy pulled back, his usual carefree grin spreading across his face. “That was fun!” he declared, completely oblivious to the weight of the moment.

Y/N, on the other hand, was utterly flustered. Her heart raced, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “L-Luffy, that was—!”

But before she could finish, Luffy laughed. “Let’s do it again!”

“What?!” Y/N’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Luffy, you can’t just—”

But Luffy didn’t seem to care about the rules of kissing or what was considered “normal” behavior. In typical Luffy fashion, he leaned in again, his lips landing on hers for a second time. This time, it wasn’t an accident—it was deliberate, and Y/N could feel the light pressure of his lips as he kissed her again, his smile still present.

Y/N’s mind spun as she pulled back, her heart racing. “Luffy, you can’t just go around kissing people like that!”

Luffy tilted his head, his expression innocent yet curious. “Why not? It feels good.”

Y/N was at a loss for words. How could she explain something so simple yet so complicated to Luffy, a guy who had no filter and no concept of boundaries when it came to things like this? She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Luffy leaned in again, placing another quick kiss on her lips. This time, it was more playful, almost like he was testing it out, seeing what it was like to kiss her more than once.

“See? It’s fun!” Luffy said, beaming at her like he had just discovered a new game.

Y/N’s face was practically on fire. “Luffy, you can’t just kiss me whenever you feel like it!”

“But why not?” Luffy asked, genuinely confused. “I like kissing you. Don’t you like it?”

Y/N’s heart did a somersault at his innocent question. She couldn’t deny that there was something sweet about the way Luffy was acting, but it was still overwhelming. She had never thought of him this way before, and now he was kissing her like it was the most natural thing in the world. And the craziest part? Luffy wasn’t embarrassed. Not even a little. He was just being… Luffy.

“I—It’s not that I don’t like it,” Y/N stammered, feeling flustered. “It’s just… kissing is something special. You don’t just do it all the time.”

Luffy considered this for a moment, scratching his head. “Special, huh?” His grin widened, and before Y/N knew what was happening, he kissed her again, this time lingering just a little longer. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I like special things.”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, though she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Luffy…”

From that day forward, Luffy became addicted to kissing Y/N. Whether it was a peck on the cheek, a quick smooch on the lips, or a surprise kiss on the forehead, Luffy found every excuse to sneak in kisses whenever he could. It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing—whether they were fighting enemies, eating together, or lounging on the deck, Luffy’s lips always found their way to Y/N’s.

At first, it drove Y/N crazy. She wasn’t used to this kind of affection, especially from someone like Luffy, who seemed completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind his actions. But as time passed, she found herself growing accustomed to it. In fact, she even started to like it. Luffy’s kisses, though spontaneous and often out of the blue, were always filled with warmth and sincerity. It was like his way of showing how much he cared, even if he didn’t fully understand the significance.

One evening, after a long day of sailing, Y/N sat on the Sunny’s deck, gazing out at the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the sea. It was a peaceful moment, one of the rare times when the crew wasn’t in the middle of some crazy adventure.

Luffy plopped down beside her, his usual grin plastered on his face. “Whatcha doin’, Y/N?”

“Just watching the sunset,” she replied, smiling softly. “It’s nice to have a quiet moment every now and then.”

Luffy hummed in agreement, leaning back on his hands as he gazed out at the ocean. After a few moments of silence, he turned to Y/N, his eyes sparkling with that same playful mischief she had come to recognize.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his voice casual but sincere.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. By now, she was used to Luffy’s requests, but it still caught her off guard every time. She turned to him, her cheeks warming as she nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

Luffy grinned, leaning in to place a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. It was gentle, sweet, and surprisingly tender. When he pulled back, his smile was softer than usual, his eyes filled with a kind of affection that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“You taste like adventure,” Luffy said, his voice full of wonder.

Y/N blinked, her face flushing. “What does that even mean, Luffy?”

He shrugged, his grin widening. “Dunno. Just feels right.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling with affection for the boy who had somehow managed to steal her heart without even realizing it. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” Luffy said, laughing along with her. “But you like me anyway, right?”

Y/N’s smile softened, her eyes shining with affection as she leaned in to kiss him this time, a gesture that surprised Luffy but made him beam with joy. “Yeah,” she whispered against his lips. “I do.”

And from that moment on, Y/N knew that no matter where their adventures took them, no matter how wild and unpredictable life on the Grand Line became, she would always have Luffy by her side—kisses and all.

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

15/16

<<< previous part

Word count : 5.2k

Warning: poorly translated French (English translation at the end)

A/N : I feel terrible about how long it’s taken me to write this, the inspiration just hasn’t been with me for a little while. I hope you enjoy it regardless ❤️

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SC - With the weight of the world seemingly off her shoulders, y/n absolutely flew around the track today. It feels like for the first time in a while, we’re seeing Thirty in her element once again.

Even with two rampaging Bulls chasing her down, it’s the Prancing Horse who takes the chequered flag. Y/N Y/L/N wins the Spanish Grand Prix!

MB - Despite all of the noise this weekend, it’s races like this one that define y/n as one of the best drivers of this generation. From the flawless start, to defending from the tremendous speed of the two Redbulls when it mattered most - that was a wonderful race to watch.

SC - I’m sure Ferrari were hoping for a 1-2 finish today, but after Charles' engine issues forced him to retire, I think they’ll be happy to get the most possible points with y/n’s fastest lap too. Look at that celebration, if there’s one thing about Thirty, every win is just as exciting as the last.

The feeling you got when you won never was any less triumphant, no matter how many you had tucked under your belt. But after how long the weekend had felt, this one felt particularly special. You climbed atop your car and pumped your fists above your head - practically giddy with glee as the crowd cheered for you, the underlying boos barely phasing you. They just didn’t matter - their opinions didn’t matter.

Your eyes zeroed in on a small group of girls who were in the grandstands, dressed head to toe in red - waving a banner for you above their head. Their celebrations seemed louder than anyone else's so you made sure to wave, putting the biggest smile on their faces before you hopped over to the car.

You laughed as the team swept you up in a tight hug when you ran over to the barrier, patting you on the helmet - the noise vibrated through you, making your heart soar. If there was a group of people you knew you could rely on, it was your team; even after your reveal, they were never any less supportive of you, always there for you no matter what the result was and treating you as they always had. It was one of the reasons why none of the contracts you offered tempted you, Ferrari are your family, you belong in red.

After swapping your helmet for your team cap, both Redbull drivers approached - Max giving you an overly enthusiastic bro hug, slapping your back so hard it almost hurt but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Amazing job, y/n. Almost got you.”

“Well, thankfully you and the smooth operator were too busy having a family squabble for that.” You teased, pulling back to let Carlos hug you as well, the Spaniard’s strong arms looped around your middle. “Now, if you boys don’t mind me - I have a winner’s interview to do.”

“Good job, y/n. Really happy for you.” Carlos made sure to get his praises in before you head across parc ferme. “See you soon.”

“Congratulations, y/n, what a result!” Naomi looked almost as excited as you as you approached for your post race interview. “How are you feeling right now?”

Your face was already hurting from how much you were smiling, you placed a hand on top of your cap and laughed. “I’m over the moon, this win felt so good.”

“After all you’ve had to deal with since your reveal, this is definitely wonderful to see.” She praised. “You raced spectacularly, anything you’d like to say to the people out there who still doubt you?”

“Honestly? After everything the guys, Max, Pierre, Esteban and Charles especially, put on the line for me, none of it really matters anymore. I have confidence in my skills and talent in this sport and knowing that my rivals believe in me too means everything… I won’t pretend that reading cruel things online will magically stop hurting, but I know what I’m capable of. I’m a world champion for a reason and there’s nothing anyone can say that will take that away from me.”

“Is this the start of your triumphant return, are we going to see you up on the top step now you’ve got your confidence back?”

“I’m ready for whatever the rest of the season throws at me. The championship is still all to play for right now, so I’m going to put my best foot forward and focus on racing.”

“Thank you so much, y/n. Congratulations. Your race winner, everybody!”

You waved at the crowd as you stepped inside to head to the cool-down room, your heart racing. Max and Carlos both greeted you with large smiles as you stepped into the room, the Spaniard playfully swatting at the brim of your cap to knock it from your head - swapping it for the 1st place Pirelli cap. “Much better, hermosa.”

“Thank you, however…” You knelt down to pick up your Ferrari hat, dusting it off before placing it on the table, a teasing lilt to your voice as you spoke. “Don’t disrespect! You can be proud of me for winning without being rude about my team, Carlos. I won’t ever let you forget you were almost one of us.”

“Idiot.” Max mumbled playfully, a strong arm draping across your shoulder - his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. “Congrats again on the win, y/n. You raced like a proper champ.”

“It felt good. Like of course winning is always good but this one felt different. Perhaps it was the timing of it, but there’s something about winning while feeling confident in myself again that makes me hungry for more.” You smiled softly. “To be honest, it felt more like the two of you were pushing me along than racing me… I’d thank you for taking it easy on me but there’s no way that that’s true.”

“You know I’d never do that. It was all you.” The Dutchman scoffed. “How dare you remember how good you are at racing, how am I supposed to beat you now.”

The way you grinned at him, gave Max flashbacks to your karting days together - your genuine joy when you beat him or all of the other boys in races. He could picture the small girl with her hair all messy from her helmet, sticking her tongue out at him when he whined to his Dad that a girl beat him. It’s not fair, she pushed me! When in reality you were just talented from day one. The way anyone could ever doubt you were Thirty bewildered him because you were you. Driven. Passionate.

It was why he never had any issue sharing the podium with you - your wins felt truly earned. Sure every driver had a win or two that they got under unusual circumstances but when the two of you were on those steps together, he could see how much you enjoyed it, no matter which number win it was and finally being able to see your smile made it all the better.

As you lifted your trophy above your head, you scanned the crowd for Charles - who, despite his DNF, was now standing in the front row, smiling up at you with pride. He threw you a cheesy wink as he clapped, not letting his own race ruin this for you. Despite not being your first win of the season, it was your first time on the top step so you relished every second of it - drowning both Redbull drivers in champagne before chugging some of the sparkling liquid. Max made sure he poured his drink down the back of your race suit, something he insisted he missed out having to share with your body double after the last win when you scolded him for it.

You felt on top of the world, all of your criticisms temporarily forgotten when that evening, all you could hear was the clinking of glasses against your own - the girls’ lips all sparkled with champagne as they toasted your victory. As much as you loved the guys, being celebrated by other women made your win all the more special. Lily looped an arm around your middle and pulled you close as Carmen snapped a photo - their laughter twinkling through the air. They gushed on how amazingly you raced, teasing you as your cheeks flushed.

All of this however, didn’t stop Charles watching you from across the bar - your red race suit traded for a gorgeous dress of the same colour, your eyes sparkling under the lights. The confidence you were radiating was intoxicating; he wanted to blame it on the beer he was drinking but there was nothing more he wanted than to have his hands all over you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, everything about you was magnetic. He wanted to steal you from the girls, but he knew you needed this. Even when Max slapped him on the shoulder, he struggled to tear his eyes away.

“She’s not going to vanish if you stop looking at her, mate.” The dutchman teased, Charles finally turned away from you. “Let her celebrate, she knows where you are when she’s ready.”

“Something about her is just…different. Lighter.”

Max smiled softly, secretly fond of how Charles was with you. “She just won a race!”

“No, no. It’s more than that.” The other driver insisted. “But I just can’t put my finger on it… and if you’ll excuse me, I can’t just watch from a distance. She’s too beautiful.”

“Gross.”

He shoved Max lightly on the arm before crossing the bar to get to you, weaving between the flashes of red of those who were still in their team kit. Charles watched Lily give you a look before you cast your eyes over your shoulder - your face cracking into a grin. Your teammate felt grateful you were as pleased to see him as he was you. “Charles.”

“Mon amour.” He hummed, draping an arm around your waist - pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Sorry, I couldn’t stay away from you any longer. Having fun?”

“So much. I’m glad you’re here actually, we were just talking about you.” You lent into his touch.

“Oh yeah?”

Lily’s brow raised playfully. “You’ve got a big battle coming, il Predestinato. Now that our girl’s back, you ready to step it up?”

“I don’t think she ever left.” You looked at him as he spoke, his green eyes already fixed on you. “Just needed a little reminder of who she is.”

You smiled softly at him before leaning in to kiss him - his hand coming up to rest on your jaw. “I’ll never forget again thanks to you, and who knows, there’s still 16 races to go… anything could happen.”

“Joint world champions.” He teased, “That ever happened before?”

“Don’t think so.” Your laughter was soft, Charles had practically forgotten the presence of the girls watching you both with a fondness in their eyes. “But if anyone could do it, it would be us.”

“Cheers to that and cheers to you, y/n. I love you.”

You clinked your glass against his. “I love you too.”

***

Yourusername added to their instagram story

***

After your race win in Imola and poor strategy in Monaco from your team - ruining Charles’ chance at a win at his home grandprix, it didn’t take long for you to catch up to your teammate in the points and by the time the chequered flag was waved in Azerbaijan, you were the championship leader and it felt good. You could tell the strategy calls were starting to affect your boyfriend but whenever you brought it up, he told you it was all fine and that he was nothing but happy for you and selfishly, you believed him. You wanted him to feel as excited as you did, and it was the first time in a long time you were feeling good about your career.

Instead, you focused on racing with the same confidence you always knew you had before your reveal and with the people around you always making sure you had a smile on your face - the last few straggling cynics barely made a noise over the roaring crowds every time you lifted a trophy above your head.

Part of you thought maybe you had just become more attentive now you were free to be yourself, but every race that passed seemed to have more and more female fans eager to greet you at the barricades, ecstatic that you were leading the championship even if there was only 7 points in it.

“You’ve got this in the bag, y/n!” They always told you Canadian’s were nice, and it was shown with the way your new poor assistant’s arms were piled high with gifts as fans chatted away with you. You were never allowed to talk to them before as Thirty, so meeting them really was a delight. “Those boys don’t stand a chance.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Charles is pretty good.” You smiled softly. “But, I’ll tell you what… I’m gonna do my absolute best for you.”

“You’re already the champion in my eyes, regardless of how the season ends.”

“Oh stop, you’re gonna make me cry.” You laughed softly, giving the girl a one armed hug. “I have to go now, thank you all though - for the support, the gifts. I’ll try and win for you today, promise.”

You helped to take some of the gifts from your assistant before heading towards the motorhome, saying hi to the other drivers as you passed by - after the protest, they had much more an effort to include you in idle chit-chat or debates they were having with another driver. Whether it was Esteban trying to get you to convince Mick and Lance that his long standing feud with Max was definitely over or Kevin showing you photos of his kid, it was nice. It was truly all you had ever wanted from your reveal - not just to be a driver, but to feel like one too.

Charles tucked you under his arm before the driver parade started, bickering with Pierre in French about god knows what but the glint in their eyes and the cheeky smile on Charles’ face assured you it was all in good fun. You simply rested your head against your boyfriend, eyes closed as you enjoyed the surprisingly warm weather as you waited for the flatbed to start moving.

“Mon amour, are you falling asleep standing upright?” He teased, squeezing you into his side.

“Mhmm, you’re so comfy, Charles.” You hummed softly, standing up straighter as the engine began to rumble - wanting to wave to the crowds instead of being caught dozing. “Besides, I’ve got to be well rested before I win the race later.”

“Leading the championship and suddenly your ego is massive.” Pierre teased, kicking you lightly in the shin - making you whine and glare at him. “I’m kidding. You deserve to be cocky, you have been very impressive recently.”

You raised a brow. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Gasly.”

“Uh oh, Pierre, you’ve made an enemy of Thirty. You better there’s no chance of the two of you tangling during the race.”

You practically snorted out a laugh. “Oh Charles, he won’t need to worry… unless, maybe I end up lapping him.”

“Oh it is on.”

It was your turn to bicker with Pierre, your boyfriend slipping away to talk to some of the others as the flatbed pulled back in to drop you all off at the pits. You felt in such high spirits when you got in the car that there was just nothing that could stop you - you were sure of it. You were going to get your 3rd title and Ferrari their first WCC since 2018. it felt like you owed them at least that much after keeping you on.

And oh, did you love this track. With its tight barriers hugging the track and long straights, the high speed was risky but made the race all the more exciting. That paired with the two Redbull’s sniffing at your car’s rear end and your teammate starting at the back of the grid, it was bound to be an exciting race.

Max put up a hell of a fight, chasing you down and barely giving you even a second to breathe - he nearly caught you on more than one occasion, but not pitting during the late safety car was his fatal mistake - his pebbled tires were no match for your shiny new softs. And before long you were lifting your second consecutive first place trophy above your head, Max and Lewis alongside you.

You felt untouchable, blowing a kiss in the direction of a small crowd of Redbull fans who had booed you louder than the rest as you’d been handed your trophy before giving their golden boy a good hosing down with your champagne, the two men who you shared the podium with upended the bottles over your head in a bubbling waterfall- a giddy smile on both of your faces as you celebrated.

“Hey congrats.” Lewis grinned, patting you on the shoulder as the three of you stood on the podium for the photo together. “Winning looks better on you every time.”

“Thanks Lewis, means a lot. Especially from you.”

The three of you stepped off the podium for your post race interviews, and you just couldn’t shake the electricity running through you. Not a single interview passed without them commenting on just how different you seemed - how over the course of the past few races, the personality they had loved beneath the helmet seemed to have finally come to the surface. “It’s so nice to see how much you’re enjoying racing again, y/n.”

“Yeah, it’s been really really good.” You smiled, your hands resting against the cool metal barricade in front of you. “Sure, I still see and hear some nasty stuff but it… it just doesn’t feel the same, it doesn’t hurt as bad knowing that I have nothing to prove to them. They’ll never like me, and that’s okay. I have plenty of supporters and friends who love me and back me up no matter what.”

“Well, it’s good to have you back. Hope you enjoy your weekend off, see you at Silverstone.”

You thanked the press before heading back to the Ferrari motorhome, letting out a yelp as you were practically tackled by your boyfriend as he swept you up in his arms. “There’s my race winner.”

“Oh who cares about my race win when you made it up from 19th to 5th!” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him - the warmth from his body made you feel at ease. “That’s far more impressive. You very much deserved the driver of the day, I’m glad your hard work was recognised.”

“Well...” He carefully placed you on the floor, placing his hands on your hips. “How about we take our weekend off to celebrate your phenomenal race and my win, hmm?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. He smiled against your lips and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss like you weren’t surrounded by the hustle and bustle of your team packing up now the weekend was over. Neither of you cared, you simply couldn’t get enough of each other.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but notice the cheeky glint in his eyes. You let your hand move to rest on his jaw, brushing your thumb across the stubble. “That sounds like an offer I simply can’t refuse.”

***

***

The skies were blue when you touched down in Silverstone, another favourite - a classic; the Tifosi showing wasn’t as big as it used to be but there were enough flashes of red amongst the crowds for you to feel their support. But, much to the disappointment of the Mercedes and Mclaren fans filling the grandstands, you and your team were currently on track to win the whole thing. You’d spent more time than you cared to admit trying to figure out what the earliest race you could win the championship at despite your slow start to the season.

But with Charles, Max and Carlos all having an equally impressive score sheet, you honestly had no idea which way it was going to go - you could only hope it would be in your favour. You’d worked so hard to fight for not only the championship, but the respect you deserved that you knew that you couldn’t stop now. Everything was to play for and you couldn’t back down now.

SC - Welcome one, welcome all to the Formula 1 Lenovo British Grand Prix here at Silverstone, the sun is shining down on all of us Martin and it looks set to be a good race. With the Ferraris and Redbulls occupying the two front rows, it will be a challenge for anyone else to claim victory. Our Championship leader shares the front row with Max Verstappen, who is gaining with each race on her and her teammate Charles Leclerc.

MB - It definitely is one to watch, the battle between the Prancing Horses and Bulls has been thrilling so far this season. I can’t wait to see how this all plays out and with Y/N having claimed podiums in her last six races, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her back on that top step.

SC - I’d put money on it if I was a betting man. Her performance leading up to this point has been something special. But with Max picking up the pace, I think he’s definitely her biggest competitor right now.

MB - Now Crofty, I wouldn’t write young Leclerc off so quickly, he is second place right now.

SC - Well, I’ll guess we’ll just have to wait and see as the grid lines up for the start of the race. The British Grand Prix is about to start, engines are revving… and its lights out, and away we go!

You felt breathless as you pulled into parc ferme, what a race. Despite your win, you couldn’t help but think about Gyanyu, George and Alex - the crash at the start was scary and you were lucky to have not been a part of it with a third of the grid getting tangled up. As much as you loved to win, it was always a bittersweet feeling when others were potentially hurt.

As you climbed out of the car, you made an effort to try and catch as many of the other drivers you knew had been part of the incident as you could as they made their way through parc ferme. You immediately wrapped your arms around Seb as he climbed out of the car, your former teammate giving you a gentle chuckle in response - promising that he was okay. So you glanced around the crowd for your childhood friend, Pierre smirking as he saw you approach. “Aw, coming to check on me?”

“Don’t make me regret it, Gasly.” You chuckled, pulling him into a hug. “But if you’ll excuse me, I did just win. Catch you later.”

You tried to catch Charles before he ducked away but you were ushered towards Lewis and Carlos for the podium interviews. With your fresher tires brought on by Esteban’s safety car, he wasn’t able to hold you off… or Lewis… or Carlos. So he was understandably frustrated. But you were still happy and wanted to celebrate with the team and you were sure once he’d had his moment of annoyance, he’d be happy for you too.

It was hard to have that same attitude when the roles were reversed the following week in Austria, and it was you who barely missed out on the podium and it all came to a head in your driver’s room. “I think we need to talk.”

“Oh?” Charles gently took off his first place cap and placed it on the coffee table. “Everything okay?”

You took a deep breath. “I don’t know why we haven’t had this conversation before but I feel like we need to talk about what happened this week and last week… when one of us wins and the other doesn’t. I think we need to find the balance of being able to understand how the other one feels versus celebrating the winner.”

“Yeah, yeah I get that. Well…” He approached you slowly, placing his hands on your hips - giving a gentle squeeze. “The winner can be sympathetic and the other can be supportive, but if one of us has a particularly bad race when the other wins then we just check in on how they feel first before jumping for joy at the win.”

“We’re both in with a chance of winning this whole thing, we have to promise not to let that get in the way of what we have.” You looped your arms around his neck, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. “I'm really happy with you and I don’t want me beating you to ruin that.”

“Oh, you’re gonna beat me are you?” Charles chuckled. “Well, best of luck, mon amour. You’re gonna need it.”

***

***

Leading up the summer break, things stayed on the up for you but not so much for Charles the agreement between the two of you more in force than ever. Hungary was the last race before you could enjoy a relaxing few weeks away from the paddock but with Charles’ DNF in France the weekend before he’d lost 2nd in the WDC to Max, the Dutchman now 5 points ahead thanks to his victory and it was clearly bothering him. You were soaring ahead and he was starting to be left behind - you 33 points ahead.

Charles spent as much time as he could with fans, making sure not one was missed - chatting away, taking photos and bringing as many smiles to their faces as he could. He would always be the tifosi’s golden boy; despite you leading, he would always have a special place in their hearts and you couldn’t blame them. There was something charming and gentle about him, he was impossible to dislike. The way he avidly listened to every word fans said to him, the look on his face full of genuine interest. He was so kind and you knew someday he was going to live up to the massive expectations they had all put on his shoulders - you wanted to win the championship, but someday it was going to be his turn and you knew that he would have their support every step of the way.

As you finally stepped away from the crowds, you linked your fingers with his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze - noticing his deflated stature as you walked towards the motorhome. Neither have you qualified on pole and his hopes of winning were being diminished by the minute. “You looked like you were having a good time with the fans, what’s the matter? Talk to me…”

“I hate to say it, amour, but now that you’re off ahead in the distance - I’m gonna have to play the role of second driver.” He grumbled softly. “I really want you to do well, y/n, I do, but I want it to be fair.”

A soft sigh left your lips and you turned him to face you, his green eyes locked on yours. “I won’t let it be unfair. I’m gonna talk to my engineers and let them know how I feel about it.. When I beat you, it’s all gonna be on my own merit.”

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile, shaking his head a little. Your heart skipped a beat at his laughter, his strong arms looping around your middle. “And when I beat you, it’ll be because I deserve it too.”

“Exactly. We’re equals.” You lent up to press a kiss to his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Last race until the summer break, we just have to get through this and then you and I can escape to your yacht and make the most of the privacy.”

“You are beyond tempting.” He purred, pulling you in closer. “If we weren’t surrounded by all these prying eyes, I’d have you exactly where I want you.”

A giggle escaped you, you raised a playful brow at him. “Well, then what are we waiting for? Your driver’s room has a lock on the door, doesn’t it?”

Your teammate groaned, his nose nudging against yours before he kissed you with even more intensity than before - not caring about the cameras or poor staff members walking past you both to get into the building. The butterflies erupted in your stomach as he smiled against your lips, not wasting a second more before he tugged you into the building towards his driver room. He pressed your back against the door as he closed it, his pupils blown with lust as they scanned your figure. “As pretty as you look in red…”

“I’d look better in nothing?” You teased, slipping your hands under his polo - he shivered as your cold hands ran across his skin. “C’mon, Charles. You can do better than that.”

“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, dropping his voice to a whisper as his lips brushed across your skin. “Tu es délicieux(1)…je t’aime de tout mon coeur(2).”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. “God, you speaking French really does something to me.. Don’t stop.”

He tugged you away from the door as he pulled your polo over your head, lips only breaking from your skin to mutter filth in french. You were weak at the knees as he pulled back to look at you - his lips shiny with your gloss. You reached up to brush your thumb across his bottom lip before tugging on his chin gently to bring him back into a kiss as he began to work on the button of your jeans.

“Did you lock the door?” You managed to get out, feeling breathless but your boyfriend seemed relentless, grunting in response as he dropped to his knees to pull your jeans over your hips, tugging you lightly so you thumped down on the couch with a soft oof. “Charles, the door.”

“You’re killing me.” He whined, running his hands up the insides of your thighs - pushing them apart. “Je ne peux pas supporter d'être loin de toi ne serait-ce qu’un instant(3), amour.”

You draped a leg over his shoulder. “If anyone walks in, I’ll run you off the track later.”

His lips curved into a devilish smirk. “Deal.”

****

charles_leclerc posted to his instagram stories

***

Next part >>>

(1) you’re delicious

(2) I love you with all my heart

(3) I can't stand being away from you for even a moment

I hope you enjoyed ❤️ thank you for all your continued support regardless of my terrible posting schedule

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[kivrumi]

⭑ᡣ𐭩"₊SEVEN 𐙚⁺˚

chapter 2 - burger queen

FEM!READER × ? JJK

ʚ PAIRINGS : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro, Ino Takuma, Higuruma Hiromi, Kento Nanami, Naoya Zenin ɞ

{ it is not stated here who the reader ends up with, the story is to find out.. }

NON-CURSE AU | COLLEGE AU

꒰ SUMMARY : How did you end up in such a mess with various guys? From strangers, friends, and crushes to ex-boyfriends and enemies. How did, what you thought was simple, life turn out like this? And who exactly were you to end up with?

꒰ WARNINGS : SLOWBURN - NSFW 18+ - mature & sexual themes - smut / lemon - language - violence - mentions of obsessive behaviour - sub/dom mentions - angst andd fluff :3

SEVEN MASTERLIST

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"He got you too huh.." Shoko says as you lay on her lap. You were in her room, which to your surprise was quite very pink. She stroked your hair as you had just finished telling her about all the new experiences you had today

"Noo he don't got me, I swear" You accidentally lied. Does he have you? You've only met once? Then again, Toji Fushiguro has never uttered a word to you yet has you wrapped around his finger. Seems like Toji and Satoru are just two silly crushes you've gained, due to your lack of love life. You've had a boyfriend once, it ended quite confusing but that was years ago, you being 16 at the time.

"What every girl says, just don't fuck him"

"Why would I fuck him, I don't just fuck anyone"

"Liar, if Toji walked into this room right now and told you to get on your knees you wouldn't hesitate"

the silence was all you managed to hear after that sentence Shoko just dropped.

"True.." you reply, late. Lifting your head from her thighs, you sit properly beside her and ask "You know, you've never talked about your own love life to me" You see Shoko glance at her fidgeting hands and a small smile that seemingly grew on her face just for it to vanish as she answered you.

"My love life is boring, don't bother asking about it" Obviously you were fully convinced but it was better to leave it at that than pester her with a variety of questions, making her supposedly uncomfortable.

—

You didn't know many guys in a romantic aspect. Well actually, none apart from your ex. The only thing that has been carrying your love life is a pathetic crush on a popular evil man. So why were you so invested in making it work? Why were you back on this side of college? Why were you staring daggers into him currently seeing his arm wrapped around a girl? You know her, she's in your class. She would constantly talk about Toji, about how he never notices her and how she wishes to have one conversation with him. I wonder how she was able to achieve those wishes...

She was stunning of course, but you and everyone else knew that in a week or less, she is getting replaced. Why does every girl let that happen, and why do you find yourself craving for just a day with him?

"You're back here? Only been a day and you missed me. Thought the next time I'd see you was when I planned to stalk you in your psychology class" Turning behind you to locate where and who had just said that only to be met with the blue eyes of Satoru Gojo. Satoru Gojo... is he becoming someone in your love life too? Or were you going to be his week-long obsession, seems like the trend that goes around for hot popular boys like him.

"Right..." you then slowly turn your head back to Toji, for some odd reason not wanting to miss a moment to see the way he is. The way that he acts. Is he trash for the first few days he lets you be with him? Or does he love bomb you and leave you till you feel empty?

"Toji? Seriously?" This guy seriously doesn't hold back on his words, does he?

"What about him..."

You then slowly head to your main hangout spot. Only for a curious Gojo to follow you around this time.

"Seems like someone has a crush"

"No i don't. And don't interfere with my love life, that shit is personal you know"

"So I'm not in your like, love life radar? Because if I am I would like to know about your love life" You give him a confused look and halt your movements as soon as you two reach the outdoors.

"Seriously? Gojo I don't know you nor am I interested" A lie but you don't find yourself being with someone so stuck up, as much as it hurts to say it. Your eyes are still only on Toji. "Now you can stop following me around" and with that, he obeys like a little puppy and leaves as you walk further down, and see a familiar abandoned cafe. You still constantly go there, alone, with others or sometimes they are already there. It's your group spot. Opening the broken tilted door, you're met with bean bag chairs, empty coffee cups, and two sleeping figures.

"Choso, Kento, get UP!" you then lightly kick the bean bags they're on, but due to their deep sleep you have to kick harder.

"eugh, what are you doing" Choso groans as he rubs his eyes. You then roll Choso lightly over till he falls off the bean bag as you plop yourself on it. Despite the fact, there were multiple other bean bags.

"just claiming my spot back..." It was just your favorite bean bag because it was your favorite color, Choso knew this. "and payback for not answering your door last night when I wanted to come over to your dorm room, you did promise me."

"But I did text you that Kentos thing took longer than expected"

"But you could have just told me before I stood at your dorm room door like an idiot"

Choso just groaned due to his lack of excuse as he sat up from the floor, realizing Kento had gone back asleep. "When are you going to get a new roommate?" I ask, Chosos last roommate got kicked out of the college for vandalizing and blackmailing the teachers. You still wonder what kind of blackmail they had on them, too bad it was all confidential. Choso was pretty scared of his last roommate and now he has been alone in his dorm for at least a month, this is why he is always either begging someone to come over or invading other people's dorms.

"Apparently there is another guy in another dorm building who has been by himself for a good 3 months, I think they are looking to put me with him"

"aawh does that mean you're not going to be down the hallway now?"

"I guess so"

You two just stay quiet for some time, thinking to yourselves. As you are wondering what kind of burger you're getting, later on, Choso's thoughts are more complicated. He was thinking of you, and how much you have impacted his life since the day he met you. How he gets up in the morning with you in mind and falls asleep to the thought of you. But you were just his best friend, right? He does not like you like THAT. Right..? Yes, you were gorgeous and breathtaking, he remembers when you went up to him as a kid and he was mumbling his sentences. He was just a shy kid, that's why he went red and flushed from the fact he was speaking with you. When you got your first boyfriend at 16, he wasn't jealous, he was rather frustrated if he would treat you horribly. And when you were heartbroken for the first time, why was he happy? Why was he happy you no longer was in a relationship, it's not like Choso would ever want to take it that far with you.

"Maybe a cheeseburger," You say, still fighting your other thoughts "Or maybe I should just ditch the burgers and.. get ice cream" It was a difficult choice. After all, you weren't that hungry, but there was no food at home. Maybe you should just beg Shoko to make you something despite her always being so busy with her science classes. Choso just lightly laughs at your words before replying,

"Come with me, let's get you a burger and ice cream"

—

"Your fucking it up aren't you," Choso says as he watched you take the fattest bite of your burger. You two sat at a fast food shop as you got the food he promised you. You swear that you will pay him back but you both know that's false, as you're broke with no job, with some funding your mother sends over to you for basic needs. Choso has a part-time job at a local campus cafe, you rarely visit him though due to the stale coffee they sell. But Choso being broke or not wouldn't mind spending his last pennies even if it was for this fat ass burger.

"Hell yeah" you reply, as Choso ate his dainty fries.

"These fries are real good" Choso says with a full mouth

"don't speak while you're eating.. you got to be etiquette!" you tell him, as you shake your head sideways.

"We are at a Burger King"

"A real Queen will always stay royal, no matter where she is"

"my bad, I'll take notes"

you hum, acknowledging how Choso is dependent on your knowledge. You disliked the silence after that, so you got to sing

"I'm at Burger King with my Burger Queen..."

"what-"

"Can I get a large fry.. shes vegan ple-"

"why do I have to be the Queen?"

"Because you're my Queen Choso, plus it fits more perfectly since you're vegan too yumming on fries"

Choso is silent, wow. You really were intelligent.

—

The next day, now you mindlessly walk to an open field on your school grounds, you don't know why but lately you've been exploring the entire college. Last year was a total bust, always in your dorm room playing video games and watching anime. You sit down on the ground, near a wall as you place your head onto it and stare into the distance 'Wait, am I near the soccer pitch?'

"You know, I was actually not expecting to see you for a third time in a week. Did you come back here for me?" Looking to your right, and above you there stood Satoru Gojo "isss this seat taken?" He jokes as he points to an empty spot on the empty field. He sits there anyway before you can even think to reply

"This part of the college is nice, I should come here more often but, that just means I'd have to run into you all the time. that just sucks" You're not actually that mean, you're just afraid of rejection so you resort to joking bullying. He puts a hand where his heart is, suggesting your words hurt him. His actions makes you take note of his shirt, a blue soccer shirt with a big 9 in front.

"You checking me out? And you swore you wouldn't fall for me?"

"That's not it, don't get your head so twisted, i was just looking at your shirt. I may not be a soccer fan but boy I would like to own all of their jersey's"

"Then why didn't you just say the word baby?" he asks, hands ready to lift his shirt over. Just as he revealed his abs you pulled his shirt back down, and you might start meowing at the sight of his bare chest. "Aawh why'd you pull my shirt back down"

"I do not want to indulge in your whore antics"

"But Toji is a whore you can get down with? Okayyy i got it"

"e-excuse me?!" you say as your face starts to heat up

"Yesterday wasn't the only time i saw you eye fuck him sweetie, was a bit hurt when I was coming out of the locker room to guide you to your dorm and be your knight in shining armour to see you eye fucking another whore. Or does that make you one too?"

Speechless, you were. You knew it was obvious but you didn't like the idea of someone else guessing your crush, that just means maybe Toji realized too. You must look so desperate.

"Sweetie you look shocked," Gojo says, smiling at your frozen face, he gives a chuckle and then says "Don't worry, I won't tell the guy. Matter of fact, ill give you a chance to know him"

"...chance to know him?"

"yeah, I mean you don't seem like a party girl but im sure by now with all your stalking you would know how frequently Toji hosts parties since he has a big fucking ass house near the college"

"I do not stalk him-"

"Anywho, just come with me and you can have the chance to talk to him"

"Wouldn't he be mad a random guest came over?"

"Nah parties are supposed to be full of randos, plus... who can deny a sweet sexy girl like you" Due to his words you push him and he falls on his elbows as he chuckles at your reaction "It's on Halloween tho, so wear a costume"

"Gojo... why are you even doing this for me?"

"I don't know, maybe you read me wrong and I am actually a decent guy? Actually a decent guy wouldn't send a sweet girl to Toji Fushiguro, but if that's what you want that's what you're going to get" You nod at his words, did you really read him wrong? Was Shoko complaining without giving him the benefit of the doubt? "Mind telling me your name now sweetie?" You then answered him with your name and he smiled at it "Cute, still keeping your contact name as Sweetheart though" He gets up and stretches his arms up, looking back at his phone to check the time "I'm ten minutes late to training, you really got me distracted, hard to bother for anything else where you're around sweets. Also, put it in your address info, picking you up at 8 pm on Halloween night, see ya" You watch him walk away from you, as you remain seated on the grass floor. Blush remained on your cheeks, why did you always get so flustered? Is it just because you have always lacked this kind of attention, and now you find you're addicted to it and always wanting more? It does seem like it.

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@kivrumi do not steal / copy / reword / translate my work

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Charlie’s Intentions

Awhile back I made a theory about why Charlie and Sev broke up(her secretly using him to try to find Lilith) and how the hotel could be a second attempt to reach out to her

Not trying to say she’s never done good things that help others or atleast tried to….but when you think of it, they’re often still to or for her benefit(for the hotel to work). Warning this goes DEEEEEPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!

Helping Sir Pentious even after the reveal(fav moments) Even after beign revealed to be a Vee spy, Charlie forgave him and let him have the chance to be a real guest….but that would be to her benefit(having more guests, especially those willing to go along with her activities). Many have pointed how quick she was to support Sir P, making Angel feel left out(I get both sides, on the one hand she def put a lot of attention towards Sir P and perhaps couldve been more supportive towards Angel like in the roleplay, but on the other hand, Angel at that time often made it VERY clear to their faces he didn’t believe in the plan or was interested beyond having a free room and going on the idea the pilot events still happened, AFTER THAT whole stunt at the terf war & News station, he’s pretty lucky Charlie didn’t just kick him out, like Vaggie probably would’ve wanted(can’t blame her though Angel def is not easy to her especially).

But that begs the question, did she let Angel stay and puts up with his behaviour as she genuinely didn’t want to give up on him, understanding redeeming him wouldn’t be easy or because….he was their ONLY client and didn’t want to risk losing that but now that there’s another and seemingly easier to work with client, ready to focus solely on him…was she just being innocently insensitive, not understanding how that hurt Angel or…was she honestly just more focused on making progress with anybody.

Was her putting Vaggie in charge of the trust activities out of a well meaning but misguided spur of the moment decision thinking they’d relate better to Vaggie as not jsut a sinner but also someone learning to trust them and vice versa…or was it to avoid screwing things up herself, as none of her past attempts seem to work a lot and figure Vaggie would have better luck as she’s able to control things, or if it didn’t work wouldn’t really cause any more damage to Vaggie’s already distant relationship with the gang. And only intervened when things were getting out of control and apologized to Vaggie as th least thign she’d want is her biggest help to go…

I don’t think we need to really get too deep into how she handled didnt go so well Ep 4. She never really thought much of Angel’s work situation and situation in general outside the hotel and the main motive for her going to Val was to get Angel more time for HER project(which wouldn’t have been so bad had it not ended how it did). During one of the sets she was advertising the hotel to a camera guy WHILE FILMING! And though the fire was an accident and careless OSHA, had she have just waited and focused on talking specifically about Angel to Val or had waited to talk with Angel when he returned, I think it’s safe to say a lot would have been different atleast. She did atleast seem, genuinely remorseful and wanted to make things right for unintentionally getting Angel hurt….or was it more about Angel being mad at her(not about making someone u care about angry at you via doing something to upset or hurt them and more about him not trusting her and potentially would reconsider being her client). Perhaps a mix of both?

Valentino-For all you know Amorcito, part of her screwed things up on purpose just so you wouldn’t try to get her to help beyond her stupid hotel 🏨 😈

Not 100% sure of the afternath(how fully aware she and the gang r of the situation, just know Val SUCKS and it’d be ideal to get him away). Did she talk to him about it after, did she ask the gang on what could be done, is she looking for ways beyond jsut the hotel to get him out, is she figuring that the best thing for her to do for Angel is to help him redeem and get into Heaven….or just focusing on her main goal, now seeing more motivation for Angel.

Was she really inspired by her father and his “dreams”, or figured by connecting to him in a way, he’d at least listen cause of his ego, being the King of Pride. She did still say “my people” not “our”.

Charlie was under the belief her dad was only in contact with her “when he was bored or needed something(not sure what bored could mean, maybe her not realizing he did want to check up on her). Didn’t call in over 5 months…whos to say she figure turn the tables. She only had gotten him involved when they were desperate and it was Vaggie who suggested his help.

Was Charlie just angry about the higher ups not knowing what gets someone into Heaven because of the potential implications of people who aren’t necessarily pure evil being damned to eternal blaze or even death because of this system….or also because she realized all the stuff she was trying to do to begin with could’ve been all for nothing, wouldn’t change things. Heck one could argue she was defending Angel from Adam because she had allowed him and the others to go to the club, perhaps wanted to give them a lil reward for the help so far and though it would’ve also kept them from being in or causing trouble(especially since she’s paying) while she and Vaggie were gone( another thing is perhaps her wanting to make up for ep 4 by letting angels friend take him and the rest out for a fun night, appease her own guilt)loss

Did she come to forgive Vaggie because she genuinely wanted to despite what she did and lying to her and that it’s part of her principles she promotes in the hotel like Rosie said(second chances) or because Rosie reminded her Vaggie’s been the one helping her throughout the story and coudlnt afford to stay angry with the war coming(Vaggie also brought weaponry too). Heck it was VAGGIE who explained things and made it clear to the gang this wasn’t their fight and had no obligation to risk themselves while Charlie ran off with Al, not even explaining what they’re doing.

I’m not trying to say Charlie’s some bad person who’s manipulating everyone. It’s clear she does have legitimate care for the gang and has had moments showing that, but you can’t deny there’s a lot that could be interpreted of having….ulterior motives. People often run by a bit of self motivation, we all need a little of that, it’s only a problem when u don’t consider how it could affect others, only focusing on your own goals and desires.

She’s not only not really thought a lot of the gang and their stuff beyond the hotel, but also def unaware how sinners are and hasn’t seem to done really solid research on humans or the concepts of redemption and rehabilitation. I don’t think she’s even asked them WHAT THEY DID TO COME DOWN TO HELL! She def didn’t seem all too interested in Missy mentioning how she knew Al back when he was alive. She also didn’t give her the same kinda introducing she did with Sir P. Granted she was busy with her dad but you’d think she’d have been atleast more interested.

Could one of the reasons that her methods and activities are kinda childish just simply because she’s very sheltered and naive… or that’s she’s simply scratching the surface to make the sinners seem good enough for Heaven so news will spread and Lilith…for all we know the day she helped Vaggie could…be more than meets the eye. Was she already out with the intent of trying to help sinners(her moms people) from the extermination or was there something else…(I like to imagine she was trying to help sinners💖)

Is her heart completely in the right place and just goes about things the wrong way…or could even her good intentions have an under layer of selfishness she doesn’t even realize that compromises the hotel’s goal of helping and healing souls. If this could be the case, could this reflection help Charlie grow and learn how to help sinners, being able to properly connect with them….or could this realization drive a genuine wedge between her and everyone

….perhaps leading to

What do u guys think? Could their be a bit of dark in her sweet apple core? really love to know💖🍎🍏

[chasedeys]

hi hello i keep thinking about joemarr being fwb at lsu but it never turns into anything until they’re playing together on the bengals and they’re a little older and more mature. but when they think too much about what their relationship is they realize they’ve been in love this entire time and neither of them want to be the one to admit it </3

oh hellooo!!!! this is sooo??? i would love!!!!! to hear more of your thoughts on this fwb au!!!!!! insane little tidbit of them not realizing they're actually together are you in my headddd are you planning on writing a fic?? please say yes 🫶

i have. so many thoughts. on fwb joemarr 😔 and all of it is angst. which i don't write. but just the way i have this in my drafts 😭 please don't ask why i never actually reblogged it

i know i said i have thoughts on this fwb au but in all honesty it's very jumbled it's a mess it's unfinished it has a beginning and a little point in the middle and literally no end. but i'd like to expand on it anyway! so:

like 20% knowledge of their lsu timeline sorry (i wish i knew more of their roster btw :(( this would make writing this entire thing easier and more detailed) but midway through their undefeated season when they're finally getting way more comfortable outside of the field, a post-game party in one of the seniors' house, drinking, partying etc, they weren't exactly attached at the hip that time yk still slowly learning how to be friends instead of just teammates, learning how to joke with each other, learning what makes the other tick etc. they end up seated together at a table with the rest of the guys, table small enough and crowded enough they're pressed right up against one another but it's casual you know they're bros completely normal to have your arms touching as you yell at one of the guys to chug etc etc. they just end up staying close the whole time—yapping at one another, jeering at others together, ganging up on justin that one time, weirdly sharing personal things with each other in the middle of a crowd when no one was paying attention to them, smiling at each other dopily for a weirdly long time like for some strange reason, that night they clicked in ways never before outside of the field?? like that moment ja'marr said they both clicked on the field for the first time ever, but this time in the middle of someone's dining room, pressed ankles to shoulders to each other, also in the middle of the loud cheers of their teammates, breath seemingly in one space from how close they were together.

the crowd dwindles but they stick close together, joe has his arm around ja'marr like he usually does at times when his adrenaline is high but this time it's just because he just wants to (not that he fully understands why), ja'marr is quiet because he's sleepy so he just follows wherever joe is dragging him, and they're walking out the house with some of the guys, someone is singing ballads loudly and incoherently for some reason, and joe's house is close by, so they stop there and ja'marr is just following in like a dumbass because he's so fucking buzzed but he feels safe with his quarterback so who gives a shit if he's intruding. none of the other really say anything because, hey why not their star qb and their little wide receiver seem like they'd follow the other anywhere really at this point so have at it. and they're hollering the two goodbye as they walk away and now joe and ja'marr are just alone together in joe's modest little rental and it's quiet and comfy and they're grinning at each other dopily for the nth time and then somehow the most natural progression for them is for joe to offer ja'marr the bed and ja'marr to scoff and say they should just share like hell either of them is fucking up their back on the shitty couch and then they're brushing their teeth in joe's modest bathroom side-by-side and joe is offering him some sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in and ja'marr is just staring blankly down at the faded spongebob t-shirt handed to him while joe is rambling at him how he has just one pillow so do you want to rock paper scissors this or—they kiss 🤗

like you could say ja'marr dropped the t-shirt and stepped right into joe's space and kissed him or you could say joe trailed off mid-sentence because he got so fucking distracted by his wr being shirtless in his bedroom in his sweats staring down at his shirt with those stupid lashes that he reached out an arm to reel him in to kiss him or you could say they just decided right then right there they wanted the other in no other way than like that that they both did the stupidest thing they could possibly do mid-season and kiss their teammate and undress them and shove them toward the bed and climb on top of them and grind down against them and—

they completely blacked out unfortunately for their first time 😔 joe woke up first with his face tucked into ja'marr's neck and he groggily untangles himself without clocking how or why they're like this and he sits up and looks blankly down at ja'marr spread eagle snoring in his bed wearing nothing that he could see and covered in bitemarks and promptly untangles himself away from the bed and out the door and into his bathroom to freak the fuck out by himself. got himself together somehow and starts making pancakes (? does he cook. i don't actually know.) because fuck if this ruins anything between them or their chances of winning the natty his one-track-minded-ness and sheer determination to win saves them tbh. ja'marr wakes up alone but joe's clanging pans in the kitchen so he knows damn well someone's outside and he knows this is joe's bedroom and all those clothes strewn around is both of theirs and the splitting headache and sore everything doesn't stop him from realizing that holy fuck they slept together. frantically tugging yesterday's clothes on, panic mounting like crazy, probably crying too, and stopping right in front of the closed door with his head pressed against the wood feeling like everything is falling apart. he musters up the courage to walk out anyway and he can't read joe as well as he does now while joe's putting up a frigid front through sheer stubbornness when he's also freaking the fuck out inside especially when he comes face to face with an ashen-faced ja'marr clearly crying too.

there should be like more after this like hooking up only sometimes, growing closer and attributing it to how they're also fucking now but is it really all there is to it. they completely sidestep that initial awkwardness because what else could they do they got a game to win a championship to get to. they get sooooo much better on the field making each other look stupid good etc etc. and throughout this shit show of sleeping with each other they have talked about it just once and that was to say 'I don't think im gay but' and how there's 'no harm' in continuing the way they do. yeah.

things come to a stop after the natty of course, they don't see each other as often because joe's getting ready for his combine (?????) etc i don't actually know what goes on after tbh but basically they grow apart, joe moves out of nola back to ohio, gets into cincy, gets injured, etc. i think i could add like more to this entire arc (?? what fucking arc) but no thoughts rn tbh. oh but this little period is also where they come to terms with their sexuality!! being apart for a whole year, learning how to be somebody without the other, exploring other options, settling firmer on who they are, etc.

ja'marr gets into bengals, and things don't really start up again at first because they don't really feel like it? like they're still relearning who the other is after all these months apart? like it was just really genuinely casual to them they either fuck or they don't, it was a bit of fun, they aren't going crazy when they see each other again because to them it didn't really mean much of anything other than a bit of fun between friends! but there's some totally insane underlying feelings that they don't realize of course. the emotional roller coaster of ja'marr's preseason drops getting attacked left and right, joe steadfast in his belief in ja'marr comforting him (there's totally a high tensioned scene of this where they're just shy of something but ja'marr was too fucked up about his drops for it to actually come to anything), then their first game together first nfl touchdown 🫶

they might fuck again after that? but to be completely honest i have nothing else to add to this. maybe some angst of them starting up again and then stopping because suddenly it got...weird? because they're starting to realize oh wow hey what i'm feeling for you is not casual stuff. theres a little 'hey i don't think we should do this again tbh like let's focus more on the sb now that we're yk in the nfl we're not dumb kids anymore' or something idk but mostly i want them to agree not to fuck again untilll ->

this one fucking sceneeee that honestly kickstarted this entire thing but basically post sb loss they just slow-dance to the first time ever i saw your face by roberta flack. this just would notttt leave my minddd. they just dance slow and intimate in the middle of joe's living room. and it's like. after they lost the superbowl. after ja'marr dragged his ass out to the get him out of his head and after a whole day of just getting drunk of their asses and drinking away their feelings very manfully and fucked-upped-ly. they spill out their uber to joes house but they can't sleep and they just. start up the radio that's annoyingly repeating the superbowl fuckery and they just keep switching the station until they end up weirdly in this obscure one where the host is saying something completely unintelligible and then the song's opening instrumentals start up and of the sudden they're just wrapped around one another in the middle of joe's living room.

and then they're just in each others arms and staring deeply into the others eyes and still trying to deal with the loss and this uncertainty between them as roberta flack croons the first time i ever kissed your mouth i felt the earth move in my hand like the trembling heart of a captive bird that was there at my command my love and i just feel sooo fucked up over it. staying rooted in one place on joe's ridiculous rug just wrapped up in one another neither able to say a word the radio conveniently shutting off just dead air until boom who knows kissed who first they just end up in bed together like all those times before.

and its the first time in a while that they actually sleep together again after their pact to not do it again! and the thing is it's good this time! it isn't like any of the other times they slept together and pretended everything was fine and made the stupid conclusion that it was bad for them! i mean it was because they didn't really talk about it if they did it would be great you know but. this time they feel settled! they actually cuddle unashamedly in the afternoon that they woke up! had brunch together with the food that's usually delivered around that time for joe! made very distinct training plans together, fired up for the next season and trying again for a ring etc etc actually making plans for the future together basically.

AND THIS COULD END HERE OKAY like they have full blown realization and actual conversation that oh. this is it. this is literally the it that they've been avoiding for some reason and oh my future is literally you and not just on the field as a quarterback or a receiver or a teammate but you as something so definitive for me that there is literally no other way this could end other than us being together! totally could end here but!! in a separate timeline by which i mean if i could make it wayyy angstier than it needs to be:

like everything is niceeee, everything is hot and horny it's crazy they keep doing things together they've never thought of doing with anybody else! but they're not fucking talking even when they keep getting feelings and freaking out in the most random of moments over the other (hence the posts up top) and then burying their feelings down the next second because they think the other doesn't feel the same and think that what they have going on is enough. really. it is.

okay so like this fwb fic in my head is actually. way longer. like as in ja'marr trades out of cincy longer 😭 just they just keep pretending everything is fine and dandy and that shit is sooo not good for them and this actually ends in ja'marr being unable to handle all his feelings and running away leaving cincy lmaooooo sooo sorry (no idea if they won a sb before ja'marr left or not lmao which would be more fucked up do you think). i feel like i should expand more on why this ends up that way but i can't. which is like why this is never going to be a full fic 😭. it's kind of like that one time i mentioned this in an ask sort of inspired by bad bunny's cloud 9 'you will always be my favorite form of loving' 😃.

this is honestly mostly because of another slow dancing scene i can't get out of my head :")) they slow dance one last time before the news officially breaks out the next day to hey that's no way to say goodbye roberta flack ver. jesus sorry im in my feelings with her sooo sorry but look at the lyricsssss do you get me

I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm And your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm Many loved before us, I know we are not new And in city and in forest they loved like me and you But now it's come to distances, both of us must try Your eyes fill with sorrow Hey, that's no way to say goodbye I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time Walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme You know my heart goes with you, your love stays with me It's just the way life changes, like the shoreline of the sea But let's not talk of love or change, things we can untie Your eyes fill with sorrow Hey, that's no way to say goodbye

ja'marr trades to another team, the nfl actually set them up against each other for week 5 and so they finally see each other again after that one last dance where they didn't hook up btw to add to the misery. they fall into bed again after whoever the fuck won i have no idea and. fought......fucked each other up beyond repair.........

i don't actually know how the story would progress after :) so sorry. it's like my mind stopped right there and theres no end in sight to their misery hurt no comfort etc. but if it's any consolation i do think i would end this not fic im not writing with ja'marr trading back to cincy and they finally make up officially and win a sb together <3 (the i love you post up top is set during their first match up btw so they got way too fucked up about it because?? you fucking left me for another team??? and fought etc but the love is there ofc so they called each other and made up etc)

on another handdd i also have thoughts for a completely different fwb au where they aren't freaked out at all btw. like no life changing thing about it they just go on with their lives like 'oh we're fucking now? of course we are' because they're soooo comfortable with each other they don't need to freak out about it or talk about it they know each other why would trusting the other with something as intimate as sex be anything bad. it feels food! it's fun! they love how they are in the bedroom together! and their relationship just progresses naturally to actually being together in an actual relationship because of course! they go on these dates anyhow what's more with feelings involved?

joe thinking 'oh I'm in love with you' as ja'marr unpacks their uber eats for them on joe's living room where they plan on binge-watching star trek discovery rambling about every little thing he could think of and then just nodding and going on with his life helping ja'marr unpack and needling him for his pickiness with food. ja'marr thinking 'oh I'm in love with you' as joe fusses over the new chrome hearts catalog that ja'marr showed him trying to pick over their new matching jackets or something and then just nodding and going on with his life telling joe to shut the fuck up he is not wearing that pick something else. pressing foreheads after the second orgasm of the night and just staring at one another and quietly letting out their first i-love-yous and then grinning at each other and laughing and rolling around on the bed trying to be the first to kiss the other after that bombshell and going on with their lives deciding if they want to move in together, if they want to tell their parents at the same time to save the hassle, if they should finally bring tee out of his misery of pretending they aren't together no matter what tee says, etc etc. just one without angst because they trust the other so much it really isn't difficult at all.

oh and there's this lovelyyyyyy bit of one night stand thing during the natty championship that @cementcornfield cooked up that i am sooo obsessed with that you should definitely read if you haven't!!!

sorry if any of this doesn't make sense or the grammar is shit btw 😭 but i would loveeeeeeeeeee to read more on this ask you sent!! tell me all about your ideas!!!!! please <3