#but then I looked at her for a millisecond and completely did not care anymore

[bucketofbugz]

best thing to come out of the episode?

Her.

she is Apple she is Bow she is PINK she has a bowtie oh my gosh she is peak

and look at her! floating above everyone else for a second as they all plummet to the ground

[hysteria-things]

Hii first of all i love your work, i have a request can you do a smut with chris and matt, like a threesome

PURE ECSTASY (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been feeling guilty for what you did, but you don’t have the balls to tell matt. one night, he shows up at your house… and he’s not alone.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, THREESOME, swearing, oral (female and male receiving), A LOT of degrading, some praising, p in v, cuck matt lol, spanking, daddy kink, sex tape, unprotected sex (nope!), hair gripping, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,080

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chris and matt are cocky asf in this and they’re a little mean🫣

honorable note: happy birthday @whatrulookingat11 🤭

arguing bounces off the walls in the living room, the three boys bickering back and forth with each other. well, it’s mostly chris and matt.

there’s a high chance they don’t even know what the argument is about anymore because this has been going on for minutes.

“you’re so infuriating.” matt says sternly to chris, who’s scrolling on his phone with no care in the world.

“then don’t piss me off and i won’t be,” he replies, not bothering to look at his brother.

“you guys give me such a fucking headache.” nick butts it, getting up from the couch. “i’m going to go to my room and edit. don’t murder each other while i’m gone.”

he walks out, matt still ranting as chris blocks his voice out.

he opens his hidden album, tapping on the video of you and him. he smirks, cutting his brother off. “want to see something cool?”

matt’s words are cut off, and he stares blankly at chris. “what?”

“come look at this.”

he’s hesitant, but slowly lowers himself down next to his brother. chris sighs, turning his hand away from his face so he can show matt. he makes sure the volume is high, but not so high that nick can hear.

matt’s face turns to disgust, because why the fuck could chris be possibly showing him a sex tape. “why the fuck are you showing me this?”

chris smiles menacingly. “you’ll see.”

the video portrays chris’s point of view railing into you, your moans and squeals coming out of the phone speaker. then, the camera moves to a face. your face.

you’re completely wanton, his hand gripped tightly on the top of your head. “say hi to matt, ma.”

“mm— h-hi, matt,”

matt rips the phone out of chris’ hand, taking a closer look at if what he’s seeing isn’t a hallucination. chris loves the thrill of seeing matt’s face change from confusion to shock in a matter of milliseconds.

“this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”

there’s no way he can watch the whole thing, so he throws the phone onto chris’s lap.

matt’s weirdly calm, emotionless even. “what… the hell did you do?”

“i fucked your bitch.”

he wasn’t kidding when he said that if matt pisses him off he’ll show him the video. chris always keeps his word.

placing your now empty bowl from dinner down, there’s a knock at your door. you look at the time, and it’s pretty late on a weekday.

you get up anyway, walking over to the front door and seeing none other than matt and chris standing there. “hey?” you question, feeling intimidated.

“can we come in?” matt asks, as chris just casually walks inside and makes himself at home.

matt shrugs, closing the door. you walk back to the living room, chris scanning his surroundings while matt takes a seat in the sofa chair.

he extends an arm, indicating for you to come sit on his lap.

“so, uh… what’s up?” you ask nervously, sitting down on him. chris walks in front of you guys, glancing up at matt.

“did you fuck chris?” he asks, getting straight to the point. your eyes widen.

shit.

“n-no.” you stammer. “why do you ask? that’s crazy.”

his hand travels down your body, lightly squeezing your breast before putting his hand down your pajama shorts. he pinches your clit, making you yelp.

“i’m going to ask you again.” he says, just as chris starts to get on his knees. “did. you. fuck. chris?”

“no!” you protest, chris slowly pulling down your shorts and panties.

“we got ourselves a liar,” he smirks.

“i-i didn’t—“ you get distracted once he starts to kiss your inner thighs.

he chuckles, his breath hitting your folds. “she’s wet already.”

matt starts to rub at your clit and you pout. “you’re going to make this way worse for yourself, baby. just admit it.” he tuts. “or maybe i need to show you instead.”

“i think you should.” chris sighs.

taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens his messages with chris and presses on the video. he dangles the phone in your face. “ringing any bells? this was you a week ago.”

when matt says that, the man between your legs flattens his tongue on your pussy before licking strands.

you whine, turning your head before a hand grips your jaw. “look at it. look at how much of a slut you are.”

“i-i’m sorry.” you apologize, tears brimming your eyes. “i’m sorry, matt.”

he takes the hand on your jaw and brings it back to your clit, rubbing on it hard as chris inserts his muscle into your hole. “you don’t seem that sorry, since my brother is tongue-fucking you and you seem to be enjoying it.”

you moan once chris digs deeper, squirming on your boyfriend’s lap. “if you’re gonna act like a slut you’re going to be treated like one.”

you squeeze your eyes tight as matt rubs circles and chris eats you out like a madman. the video still plays, and you’re starting to replay that night in your head.

“daddy! g-gonna cum, daddy.” the speakers of the phone boom.

the mixture of chris’ filthy words he said to you last week and your sounds make you even more aroused, your legs shaking and squeezing his head.

“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it. this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”

“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”

a string of moans falls from your lips before you cum all over chris’ face. he removes himself, giving you time to breathe.

he starts unbuckling his belt. it’s a little difficult being that he’s still on the floor, but now he’s sitting.

matt removes his hand, putting his phone away as well. chris grabs your arms and yanks you to the floor so you’re straddling him. “what-what are you—” you’re cut off by the stretch of him, pulling you down on his dick.

you look around with glassy eyes, matt now unbuckling his belt right by your head. “you already fucked him once. i’m sure you can do it again.”

chris thrusts from below you, your eyes immediately rolling back and moaning so desperately. the phone comes out once again and he leans back pressing record at how you look on top of him.

“f-fuck. chris—” his hand makes contact with your ass.

“try again.”

“d-daddy…”

“sorry, what did you say? i don’t think he heard you.” he smirks, looking at matt who’s rolling his eyes. “say it, ma. what do you call me?”

he spanks you again, and you cry out from the pain. “daddy!”

“that’s right, and who makes you feel this way?”

what a douchebag matt thinks, springing his dick from his pants and wrapping his hand around it. he’s looking at how pathetic you look, your mewls of pleasure turning him on. he pumps his hand, moaning lowly.

your sounds get drastically higher once your g-spot is hit, but he smacks your asscheek again. “i will spank you until your ass is numb if you keep ignoring me.” again… and again. “who makes you feel this way?”

you grip onto his biceps, scratching at them. “y-you, daddy. only you— shit!” you drag on, starting to bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts. you’re so fucking close.

matt whimpers from next to you, biting the collar of his shirt as he grabs your jaw to forcefully look at him. the way his hand is pumping and the muffle of his moans are wanting to send you over the edge.

chris moves his phone to the side to get a better view, trying hard not to get matt’s face in frame. to him, it’ll ruin the moment if he sees his brother in the sex tape. this is only for you and him.

“o-open.” matt stutters, his shirt falling from his teeth. you open your mouth, and his cum lands on your tongue. “swallow… good girl.”

he continues, “did you see that, chris? the slut listens to whatever a man says. do you just let random men fuck you? ‘cause it seems that way.”

tears leak from your eyes, shaking your head with a whine. “i’m gonna cum.” you whisper, matt’s grip on your jaw firmer.

“do it. cum on my brother’s cock like the whore you are.”

whimpering, you quiver and spread your fluid down his base. chris moves his phone to where you’re conjoined, your orgasm slowly dripping around him.

chris moans, his thrust becoming sloppy. “don’t you dare cum inside her.” matt warns.

“wouldn’t be the first time.” he thrusts up faster to get to his orgasm, the most shit-eating grin on his face. “or the second.”

matt snarls, but chris sighs. “fine.”

he lifts you off of him, shooting his release onto your stomach.

matt lifts you to bend you over the chair. you rut your hips back, not even noticing you did it until he hums of approval from behind you. “i think she’s needy for more.”

chris smirks. “i think so, too.”

you wince once he starts to push into you, adjusting to his size rather than chris’. he starts slow but gradually gets faster. your arousal drips from your pussy, and moans escape from your open mouth.

“fu-uck, baby. please don’t s-stop.” you whimper.

your moans turn to yelps the deeper he goes, your walls closing tight around him. in the middle of your moaning mess, a cock fills your mouth.

chris’ hand grips your hair, him now thrusting into your mouth at the same fast speed matt’s doing. “you’re getting too loud, ma. don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

matt’s hands grip onto your hips, grunting each time you clench. the vibration from your moans flows through chris’ body, making sure to capture what you look like taking two dicks at once on his phone.

“sweet thing just wants to be used.” he fake pouts. “am i right?”

he’s being a cocky mother fucker, being that he knows you can’t respond. you try to respond, but it’s only a gag and gulp.

they know your response anyway, which is: yes.

“i’d say that’s a yes.” matt says.

drool hangs from your chin, the noises of you sucking chris’ dick getting more intense. “she’s close.” matt points out. “squeezing me like she’s going to break me in half.”

“i think we’re overstimulating her.” chris grins, taking a piece of your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

each time matt thrusts into you, you choke on chris. you’ve never done something like this, but it feels so good. you cross your eyes, cumming down matt’s shaft.

it makes a mess on his and your thighs, the sound of wet skin on wet skin rubs you the right way.

“just a little more, baby. taking me so well.” matt praises, and you hum at the compliment.

chris tenses in your mouth, pushing your head further down to deepthroat him. “shit.” he curses under his breath. you gag, feeling his cum go down your throat.

some of it spills from the sides of your mouth and he pulls out. your spit mixed with his orgasm dangles on your face. you inhale sharply and cough, but it turns into a soft moan since matt is still fucking into you.

oh, and chris made sure to capture all of that, too.

he lets go of your head, saving the video, and casually picks up his clothes off the floor. your cheek falls to the arm of the couch, the way matt feels making your mind fuzzy.

he groans, leaning so his head rests on your shoulder as he peppers kisses on the bare skin. “i fucking love you.” he says through gritted teeth, pounding himself into you harder.

you whimper. “i love mm— you too.”

he exhales before painting your walls white, making sure you take it all. you sigh in relief and he pulls out, making sure to clean you up.

you roll over, smiling wide because of the pure ecstasy you just felt yet again. “are you kidding?” matt asks, looking in the direction of the kitchen. you squint your eyes at the figure.

chris is there, fridge open as his finger taps on his chin. “do you have anything good to eat? i’m always hungry after sex.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @braindead4l @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns

[pandorasfavorite]

Maneater Part 2

You could only assume Dominik's match went well, considering he ran out of the ring with a huge grin. Your match was 5 minutes after him and you are anxious to just get out there and get it over with. You've never wanted to leave work more than you did today. While Dominik was in his match you had time to reflect on what happened just moments before, you were letting your guard down and letting him get close to you. Much too soon for your liking. You need to pull away from him, it's all just tension and the equal desire to fuck. Nothing more, you wouldn’t let him make you feel anything else.

Dominik came inside and his hair whipped side to side, then finally his eyes landed on you. His smile only got wider, and his pearly white teeth were obnoxious. He starts walking towards you, you don't smile back; instead, you look the other way. In your head, you are chanting to yourself to remember your morals.

"Hey", Dominik stands in front of you, swerving his head to meet your eyes. You huff as if you're annoyed, turning your glaring eyes to meet his. His smile fades a bit at your expression and you can't control the twinge of sadness at causing it. You raise your eyebrow at him. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, "Uh, you excited?". God, you loved making him squirm. You couldn't be rude to him, your personality craved attention and making men work hard.

"To talk to you? Or my match"

His smile comes back in a millisecond, "Me".

"Depends how much money do you have?", you run your fingers through your hair leaning forward, Dominik could see your complete figure. Not that you cared, you wanted it that way, you wanted to make him work hard. You see the way he swallows and the way he couldn't stop himself from looking you up and down. No man can control themselves anymore. He takes a step closer to you; confident; "As much as you need Hermosa". He's too confident, he needs to take a step back. You make the rules.

You push Dominik back by one of his shoulders, and he watches your hand move forward. "How much I want, you mean", you dare him to challenge you. Dominik opens his mouth to talk but he gets interrupted, he may have to get used to that. Your music blasted and you sidestep around him, walking out on the walkway. While you are walking to the ring to meet your opponent, Dominik is running backstage to watch your match.

At your match; right off the bat, the girl wants to start running her mouth about how you act. You don't pay attention to that nonsense, but when you speak, it's only the truth. "You either want to be with me or be me. Isn't that right?".

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

The next day you had another match, not that you weren't expecting any less. Hours before your match you spend time training in the empty ring, no one bothered you for good reason. Lately the Judgement Day couldn't leave you alone. You heard the door open and close and part of you was expecting Dominik to come out and beg you to join the Judgement Day again like he has before. Though this time it was both Damian and Dominik. You could feel the anger of being bothered by two guys itching at you. They both walked up with those 'intimidating' faces or so they say.

They are a few steps away and you whip around putting a hand out in front of them. "I'm not doing this shit today. Leave", you cross your arms and sneer at the pair. Damian's face drops into a deep frown, and Dominik is biting his lip subconsciously. They don't say anything, instead opting to stare you in the face like a couple of idiots. You shake your head at them, a rude look on your face to say the least. "Look, what do we have to do to get you to join?", Damian says at the jump with his profound voice. You snort; laughing in their face.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, attempting to gain your composure, but the way they are so adamant about having you is remarkable. "Yall can't be serious", you put a hand on your hip and you are smiling completely. Dominik's eyes widen and his face shares the same smile. Dominik is bursting at the seams with joy, so much so he taps Damian and points at you. Your smile drops in an instant; assuming the worst; that Dominik Mysterio was trying to make fun of you.

You take a step towards Dominik. "What the fuck is funny Mysterio?".

You notice his body tensing and his hands flexing, "Nothing, you were smiling I just thought it was cute".

...

...

Damain sighs deeply; about to smack Dominik. "Cute man really?", Damian turns to Dominik. Dominik shrugs expasterated. You feel yourself about to smile again just from the interaction. You nod to yourself. You walk towards Dominik and grab him by the upper arm, and God the muscle firm in your hand. You dragged him with you, and he followed along tripping over his own feet. He was tripping so much that you had to stop and grab him by the collar instead. You pulled him behind a wall to where Damian couldn't see. He shouldn't see this.

You push Dominik against the wall and he tries to get up off of him. You lay your hand flat against his chest pushing him against the wall and keeping him there. You may be in control but Dominik is still taller than you, and the way he was looking down at you with those deep eyes almost made you want to kiss him. You shake your head at those thoughts. You make that intense eye contact with him that you long for, "You need me to join the Judgement Day right?".

"Yes", he says a millisecond after.

I wanna see you all on your knees, knees.

"Get on your knees and beg".

There are many things Dominik could do. He could laugh in your face which wouldn't work out well for him. He could walk away. Or he could sink to his knees and beg for you to join the Judgement Day.

Dominik's gazes never flattered, he kept eye contact as he sunk to his knees, his hands grasping your waist to keep his upright. "I'm begging you, please" his voice turned light and nearly trembling. Was he getting off on this? "Please, please join. You won't regret it, you will have everything", Dominik's hair fans in front of his face.

Maybe the Judgement Day wouldn't be that bad. After all, Dominik doesn't mind giving in to your every command. In fact, he wanted it. "Stand up", he stands up without hesitation. "Let's go"

[duffslut]

Jealous girl

Slash x Reader

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 505

Warnings: Angst/Smut! Minors Dni.

Taglist: @guns-n-roses-gal @a4tumnvenice @used-to-love-her-06 @changbinsdummythiccahrms @guitarsfan @em-21 @their80smichelle @svrgs-blog @rocketttqueennn @wiifitboard @unknownperson246 @fxcethestrange @lovergirl4slash @rottoneggs01 @metallical0ver @brunette-barbie4562 @appetiteforattitude @prettypersuasionn @gyaas @nenynra @brezeblog @damianodavds @ch3rry-earrings @1-800-meth-blog @hauntedrosie @inkieink @blinca @rocketqueen1989x @rafesgirl7 @thatsoversace @maverickman5k @metallicaloverrr @xoxytoxinx

You were having a jealous fit again. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw that bitch sitting on your boyfriend's lap, pretending to interview him when in reality she was blatantly hitting on him. And worst of all: SLASH WAS FUCKING ENJOYING IT.

The carefree smile on his lips made your blood boil, why the fuck was he acting like he didn't have a girlfriend? You turned off the TV and threw the remote away.

Slash only arrived home hours later, and your head hurt from how angry you were with him. You were already in bed, with your arms crossed and tapping your feet nervously.

- Hey honey. - He said giving you a kiss, you didn't move.

- What's wrong? - He asked, his body was sweaty, he took off his shirt and wiped his belly.

- Did you fuck her? - You asked, looking him deep in the eyes.

A look of terror formed on his face, but only for a millisecond.

- If I fucked who? - He said mockingly.

You hated his answer, you hated the fact that he knew exactly who you were talking about and just decided to play with your feelings. You got out of bed completely out of your mind, distraught, running towards him with your fists ready to punch him in the stomach but your efforts to hurt him just didn't seem to affect him at all, you punched his chest as tears of anger rolled down your cheeks.

- Why do you do this to me!? - You asked between sobs, tired of trying for nothing and just resting your face on his chest, feeling his hand stroking your hair.

- You'll get over it. - He said, you felt your heart ache, he didn't even care about thinking of an excuse anymore.

- No! - You exclaimed, trying to get away from him by pushing him, but he held you back.

- Shut up! - He screamed, and your body shook in fright. - You're acting like a fucking brat!

You looked at him scared, now he was the one who was angry, and you were completely helpless being held by his arms.

- No one else will love you better than I do Y/n. - Slash said softly, sliding his fingers down your face and squeezing your cheeks, forcing a pout for him to kiss you.

You were breathing heavily and tried to pull away when he kissed you, but his fingers hold on your cheeks so tight that all you could do was groan in pain, his tongue slid into your mouth roughly and his lips sucked yours. Your tears kept streaming down your face and Slash used his thumb to wipe them away.

- Don't make a scene, doll. - Slash whispered, moving his hand down to your panties.

- No, I don't want to! - You exclaimed when his fingers touched your pussy.

- I think you do. - Your body twitched at his sudden touch, you were wet, your mind was telling you to stop him, grab your things and leave him, but your body couldn't help but surrender to him.

[itneverendshere]

i did something great - r.c (part three)

people asked and I delivered, here's part 3!! part 1 and part 2 warnings: SMUT; rafe cameron x kook!reader; exboyfriend!topper; possessive!rafe; mentions of violence (rafe beats the shit out of topper); mentions of slut-shaming;

Rafe's losing it.

He’s got that look like he might actually kill someone, like he wants to kill Topper right here, right now. But he knows you’d give him hell for it, and honestly, that’s the only thing holding him back.

His hands are shaking, fists clenched so tight it looks like his knuckles might pop. And Topper? That smug piece of shit is standing there, completely unaware—or maybe he just doesn’t care—that Rafe’s about a millisecond away from snapping. Rafe can’t stop replaying it in his head: Topper’s hand hitting your face. The way you probably winced. It’s burning him up inside, but he’s fighting to stay cool, for you.

Eyes locked on Topper, he's moving through the crowd like a damn bulldozer, his muscles bulging under that half-open shirt, tension rolling off him. Everyone at this party seems to know what’s about to go down because they’re all backing off, making space like they don’t want to be anywhere near when he finally explodes.

When he gets close enough, Rafe doesn’t even need to yell—his voice is low, dangerous. “Thornton. A word.”

Topper laughs, of course, thinking this is all a joke. “Tired of her already?”

He grits his teeth, trying to keep it together. “Keep it down, or I’ll shove that beer up your ass.”

But Topper just keeps pushing. “You should thank me, man. I handed her to you on a silver platter.”

Rafe’s practically vibrating with anger, but he’s holding on by a thread. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

Topper takes a step back, that cocky grin slipping just a little. “I’ll do whatever I want with her.”

He steps forward, voice cold, like ice. “Not anymore.”

But then, Topper pulls that smirk back and goes too far. “I’ve been a lot closer to her.”

Rafe tenses, jaw tight, Topper hit a nerve. But he's not backing down. “I know exactly how close you got.” His tone is lethal, like he's already picturing what he's going to do next.

Topper laughs, but it’s forced. “I know you’ve always had a thing for whores. Keep it down, will ya? It’s embarr—”

And that’s it.

Rafe snaps. His fist slams into Topper’s jaw with a crack that cuts through the party noise. The fucker stumbles back, knocking into a table as everyone around them gasps. Rafe’s hand is throbbing, but it doesn’t matter. That punch? Worth it.

“If you even look at her again,” He growls, “I’ll make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Topper’s tough-guy act is crumbling fast. He’s seen what happens when someone crosses Rafe, and right now, he’s realizing how deep he’s in. He steps closer, looming over him, voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll be watching you. If you touch her again, I’ll make sure you pay for it. This is your warning.”

The crowd’s buzzing, whispering, but Rafe doesn’t care. His eyes are locked on Topper, daring him to make a move. He's trying to save face, mutters something about how you're not worth it. “I know you, Cameron,” he adds, like he’s still got some upper hand.

Rafe just smiles, a dark, almost mocking grin. “You think you know me?”

And then Topper makes his final mistake: he swings. But he’s way too close, way too slow. He dodges it like it’s nothing, and now, Topper’s messed up big time. The calm that settles over Rafe is worse than the fury—there’s no mercy left.

He moves fast, a brutal uppercut that lands right on Topper’s nose. The sickening crack echoes, and before that piece of shit even hits the ground, he’s out cold. Kelce catches him just in time, barely keeping him from face-planting on the floor.

Rafe steps back, shaking out his hand, and smirks down at Topper’s limp body. “Sweet dreams, bitch.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

When your boyfriend climbed through your window at 2 in the morning—hair a mess, hands bruised—you were ready for a whole scene. Maybe he was drunk, maybe he was about to have a meltdown, maybe there’d be some tears.

But not this.

The look in his eyes, the way his knuckles were split open, shirt barely hanging on... Yeah, it was obvious. He’d punched the shit out of Topper at that party. And maybe if you weren’t completely caught up in him, you’d care, maybe give him a lecture about how fighting doesn’t solve anything.

But right now? Not a single word about it crosses your mind.

Instead, you let out this little squeak as he presses you deeper into the mattress, one of his big hands planted between your shoulder blades, forcing your back into this ridiculous arch while he’s fucking you within an inch of your life. His thrusts are deep, like he’s trying to drown himself in you, each one harder than the last, and you can’t stop the sobs spilling from your throat.

You’ve already come twice—once from his fingers and once from his mouth—and now your body’s basically jelly. Your mind? Long gone, floating somewhere far away.

“Rafe…” You manage to whisper, barely.

“Hm, flower?” His voice is teasing, all low and rough, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Jesus.”

“Nah, just me,” he chuckles, this smug little grin in his voice. “You said you could take it, remember?”

And there it is—your stupid mouth, writing checks your body can barely cash. It’s almost laughable how you can’t even think straight when he’s near you, touching you. How is it even fair that someone can be this ridiculously hot, have the biggest dick you’ve ever seen, and be cocky as hell?

Your breath catches as he hits that spot deep inside you, over and over again. You swear your entire body is trembling from the intensity. “Said you’d be good for me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear, making you shudder.

“Can you just—" You try to ask, but your words falter as he pulls your body up, pressing your back against his chest, lips brushing your neck. The sight of him—his messy hair, flushed cheeks, the way his chest is slick with sweat—it leaves you speechless.

“Just what?” he smirks, like he’s reading your mind, and then his hand slides down, fingers finding that sensitive spot between your legs, circling in just the right way. “This?”

Your body jolts from the overload of sensation, eyes rolling back as you let out this desperate sound, hands gripping the sheets like they’re your only anchor. His hips keep moving, slow and deliberate, driving you insane.

“Flower,” he hisses, his voice barely controlled. “Behave.”

He watches the way his cock disappears into you, completely mesmerized. His eyebrows knit together in concentration, lips slightly parted.

Fucking hell.

You can feel him trembling behind you, groaning with each thrust. You reach back, fingers tangling in his hair, giving a soft tug. He groans low in your ear, and you let out this little moan that has him shuddering.

He’s sucking on your neck, leaving marks that you’re sure will be there for days. “Rafe…” you whine, voice all broken and breathless.

He buries his face in your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you. “Have no idea what you do to me, flower,” he mutters, his voice rough and dark. “You’re mine.”

The heat radiating off him is almost unbearable, his eyes wild and dark, consumed with desire.

“I’ll kill him,” he breathes, his words hitting you like a punch. He’s angry, really angry, and you can feel it in every sharp thrust. But all you can think to say is.

“Later. Fuck, you can kill him—later.”

You’re flat against the mattress again, your cheek pressed to the bed, and it feels like he’s going to fuck you straight through it. Honestly, you’d let him.

“Fucking—” His hips snap harder, hitting your g-spot, and you you mangle his name into the fabric. "So good f'me."

He’s pounding into you now, each thrust harsher than the last, and you’re clenching around him, the heat of your orgasm building up again until there’s nothing left but him, him, him. Your vision blurs, your body trembling uncontrollably as a third orgasm crashes through you, leaving you completely wrecked.

You glance at Rafe from the corner of your eye, watching the way sweat clings to his skin, and it takes your breath away. Your body’s gone limp, muscles clenching around him, and you can hear his deep moan as he finally lets go, his release filling you.

“Fuck” he whispers, both of you panting, his chest pressed tight against your back, "I love you."

"I love you too."

[alexismcknight25]

What if Ella Kneeled!

AU chapter 15 - Rewrite the past

This is an AU of my Rewrite the Past fanfic. I kept thinking What if when The Queen of Hearts asked Cinderella to kneel, she did. Every time I thought about it, I loved the idea, but I couldn’t believe she actually would so while I could imagine she would I couldn’t figure out why until it hit me if it was an alternate version of Rewrite the Past: The Rise of Red edition maybe she would. This Cinderella is a bit lost. Ever since Chad’s betrayal her family has been falling apart so what she thought maybe here she could get her old friend back. So here we go my version of that scene with some back story of Rewrite the past.

Hope you enjoy

Haylie Myers

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

“Stop it Bridget” Cinderella yells out to the Queen of Hearts after she has successfully subdued everyone

Chloe looks at her mum surprised at her words and actions. She hasn’t seen her mum this passionate and broken at the same time in as long as she can remember. 

Cinderella starts moving away from Chloe towards the front where Bridget is.

“You’re better than this!” Cinderella says as she arrives the guards in front of The Queen of Hearts and her daughter

The guards bar her.

“Let her through” The Queen of Hearts commands

“This is too far. I know that what happened was hard for you, but that was ages ago” Cinderella continues, she wishes she had been there for her son. Maybe she could be there for Bridget. Not even her husband is around much anymore. She hardly sees him anymore, Chad’s betrayal hurt him. He drifted away from her and Chloe. Some days its feels like she is a single mother to Chloe. Charming was too busy to even come to his own daughters first day of school. Allowing his duties to take up all his time.

“It feel likes yesterday to me” The Queen of Hearts tells her

“It was a stupid prank” Ella says painfully

The Queen of Hearts Scoffs “Stupid, I could forgive. Humiliating a girl at her first dance, turning me into a monster in front of everyone. Now that’s just cruel” Her voice breaks a little at the end having to remember those moments again from back then

“You’re right” Cinderella agrees 

“You didn’t care then. You were off with your Prince. Where is he now. Ooh, but you will now” She speaks to Cinderella before speaking to everyone

“You will all show me the respect I deserve!”

“Now Kneel” The Queen of Hearts asks Cinderella

Cinderella thinks about it. She has lost her son. In most ways she lost her husband that day too. He was never the same. It was Auradon’s fault. Their King and Queen ignored her son. Her son was once best friends with king but then he disappeared and came back stopped being friends with him. The king and Queen turned her son into the monster he became. They refused to help him to be better. They helped Audrey to be better but not her son. The King and Queen called Audrey family but not her son. She’s had enough. Maybe if she does this she will get Bridget back. Maybe they can free Chad from The Isle and bring him home.

With all these thoughts she does what nobody expects, she kneels before Bridget.

The room gasps watching her kneel before The Queen of Hearts.

The Queen of Hearts looks shocked for a millisecond before Bridget puts her hand out to Ella and raising her.

“Thank you” She says as she brings Ella to stand beside her

“Should’ve known CINDERella, would stand by her old friend” Someone in the audience comments

“Well we know where her son got his villain side from now” another person comments

“Guess this is why we never see her husband anymore” another comments

“ENOUGH! The next person to say another word. OFF WITH THERE HEADS” The Queen of Hearts yells. Ella is now on her side, that means her protection. She wonders what the people meant about Ella’s son and husband. Where was her Prince? Why wasn’t he here?

Chloe is completely shocked that her mum actually kneeled before The Queen and is now standing right up there beside her.

Also all the cruel comments people are making about her mum and their family. 

This is the Queen they never use to make these comments about.

Now they are blaming her mother for her brother’s actions.

“Red, grab Ella’s girl. Bring her up here” The Queen of Hearts tells her daughter

Chloe starts to turn and move away but everyone is staring at her. Do they expect her to be exactly like her mother, like her brother.

These people are the reason she doesn’t have any true friends. They don’t trust her because of her brothers actions and now her mothers.

Red moves away from her mother to go after the girl. Maybe she can grab her and take her back with her to change the past.

Red is now in front of Chloe. 

Chloe is unsure what to do but realises it probably safer up front for her with her mother and The Queen of Hearts. Who knows what these people might want to do to her.

“Like Mothers, Like Daughters” A comment from the crowd as Red and Chloe make there way up to the front.

“Who said that?” Yells the Queen of Hearts

Red and Chloe now up the front but off to the side.

“Do you want to stop this, change this?” Red whispers to Chloe

“Of course I do, but how?” Chloe whispers back

Red brings out her Time Machine while still keeping it hidden from their mothers. “This can change it. We can go back and change. Just a press of the button” 

“I don’t know how far it will take us back. It should take us back to the moment that could stop all this. We need to go though before our mums notice we are up to something” Red also comments after a moment hiding the watch again

“Fine lets do it, you better be right about this” Chloe comments

“Don’t worry Princess, just press the button” Red comments as she brings the watch out and together they press down the button on the Watch as their mothers look at them shocked.

Red and Chloe disappear from time into the past.

[smoooothoperator]

Lovely

a/n: hey there beautiful people!!! Thank you so much for the support and all. You know you can ask me whatever and give me oppinions of everything ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist | Askbox

Charles Leclerc had always been a man of precision, of perfection. As a Formula One driver, he knew that every decision, every move, every millisecond counted towards the ultimate goal of crossing the finish line first. He knew that every move, intentional or not, was going to be part of the final result of the weekend. He needed to be perfect, making a perfect show and showing all the skills to prove that he's worthy.

But off the track, he was much more reserved, much less impulsive. The way he laughed and he smiled showed how calm he was. The way he walked around showed that he doesn't have to need to be at a place immediately. His life out of the car was calm, slow. He has the control.

He's not the one that make big plans, usually prefers to help making them. He wasn't the type to approach strangers at a bar and strike up a conversation. It was something unnecessary, knowing that somehow that will make him anxious because he hated not knowing what will happen next.

That was until one fateful night in Monaco.

It had been a long week of training and meetings, and Charles was looking forward to letting loose with some friends at one of Monaco's popular nightspots, hoping that his mind and body relaxed once he sat on a chair.

He arrived at the bar, ordered a glass of one of their famous local non-alcoholic drinks, and took a seat at one of the high tables. His friends were nowhere to be seen yet, so he decided to people-watch for a while.

His eyes scanned every inch of the bar, looking at that group of friends that talked about their week, or at that couple that argued that movie they should watch once they arrived to their shared apartment. Many different people there, all of them having someone to talk to.

And then he noticed her.

She was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine, and staring into the distance, sometimes looking down at the glass and admiring the dark red color of her drink. There was something about her that caught Charles' eye. Maybe it was the way she sat there, alone and with no one next to her, a smile on her lips while she drank a small sip of that grape based drink and leave a soft satisfied sigh escape her red lips afterwards.

Without noticing, his legs took control of his body, deciding to get out of that high chair and walk over her.

"Excuse me" he heard himself talk, trying to sound casual and not nervous. "Mind if I join you?"

The woman in front of him looked up, surprised, but nodded with a soft smile while she left the glass on the table. "Uh... Sure"

He smiled and sat next to her on the empty chair beside her. Even closer she looks more beautiful that he imagined. Those earrings that danced everytime she moved her had softly, made him smile. The small necklace that adorned her neck made a fire burn his chest.

They started talking, and before Charles knew it, they had been chatting for over three hours. He doesn't know if his friends arrived to the bar, not like he cares anymore. They talked about everything from travel to music to their shared love of good food.

Charles found himself completely drawn in by her warmth and intelligence, and he was thrilled when she seemed just as interested in him, giggling with everything he told her and nodding when they agreed on something. It was like if he knew her for long time ago, the confidence of talking with her about everything made him be comfortable and not know how many hours they spent talking.

But as the night wore on, Charles started to feel a growing sense of anxiety. He didn't know how to ask for her number, or even if he should. What if she wasn't interested? What if she was married, or had a boyfriend? What if the reason she was at the bar was because she was waiting for her partner and the fact that they have been talking for hours gave her problems? He didn't want to ruin the mood of the night, how easy it was talking with her.

Eventually he looked down at his watch, raising his eyebrows surprised.

"Oh God, it's 3:15 am" he gasped, making her chuckle.

"You have to work tomorrow?" she asked softly, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

"Well, kinda" he sighed. He has to do some online interviews, and even if that was at his home, he has to show up.

"Oh, then... Good night" she nodded.

Both of them got up from their chairs and walked to the door of the bar, but walking on separated ways. That left him with a weird feeling inside his chest, that grew with every step he made while he walked towards his car, growing into frustration and into anger.

Why the hell he didn't ask for her name? Or for her number? Is she from Monaco? Will he ever see her again? He should have asked if she was waiting for someone...

All those thought were running around his mind as he walked over his steps, going the other way to his car and trying to find her on the street.

And when he found her again, he breathed in deeply, closing his eyes and clenched his fists, hoping that he had enough courage to let his voice work.

"Why you didn't ask me my name?" he blurted, feeling the words chocking him.

She turned around with a smile on her lips that reached her eyes, and walked close to him, standing just a meter away.

"Why you didn't ask me mine?" she asked back, biting her lip.

"I'm Charles" he said quickly, looking down at her.

"I'm Cora " she said smiling, looking into his green-ish eyes.

"Give me you number" he asked, somehow anxious. Maybe she has a boyfriend and he's taking a step too big. "I had fun with you and I would love to know more about you"

"Sure" she smiled nodding, relieved that he asked her the only question she wished he asked during that three hours chat. "Give me your phone"

He felt the air leaving his lungs when she smiled while writing the digits of her phone number on his phone. She pressed the call button and after some seconds he gave him the phone back.

"I'll text you when I arrive home" she said and bite her lips, standing on her toes and kissing his cheek softly.

He stood there frozen, looking that blonde woman walked away from him, taking his breath away and with her phone number saved on his phone.

Not long after that, when he was already sitting on his car parked on the garage if his apartment building, he heard a notification on his phone, making the screen shine with a text on it.

Cora: I'm home. Thank you for this amazing night, Charles

His smile grew wide and felt how his lungs had air again, making him sigh happy and satisfied.

Charles: let's do it again. Are you free next Friday?

Days went by and be planned everything for that date, one she surprisingly agreed to have. He made sure his schedule was clear, his car was washed that morning and the restaurant he reserved had that table on the balcony free. On his way to her house he bought her a flower bouquet with a mix of all the flowers she liked, something he remembered when they talked about it not long ago.

It was perfect. He has the control again. But when he saw her opening the front door of her house, he felt the air leaving his lungs again.

She looked absolutely gorgeous, with that dress that hugged her curves and those earrings that hypnotized him before. Her shy smiled made his legs feel like jelly and he had to blink a few times, making sure that what stood in front of him was real.

"You look absolutely beautiful" he said with a breathless smile.

The date was a dream, she is a dream for him. It was like if his angels -Jules, his dad and Anthoine- brought her to him to ease the pain of their absence. And because he thought like that, he needed to keep her on his life, no matter what.

They started to talk more and more. She told her about herself, that she's a musician that works on a music school teaching kids, but her dream is sing on big theaters her favourite operas. He told her who he is, they he's a driver of Ferrari, that he travels a lot and is barely at home.

But she didn't care. For the first time, someone didn't care that he travels a lot all weeks, that he's barely in Monaco.

"You have my number and I have yours" she said smiling, shrugging her shoulders while eating the brownie they shared for dessert. "If you want to talk with me you just can text me. I have time for you"

She has time for him. That's the best thing so.eone told him.

So he did text her. When he landed, when he arrived ti the hotel, when he saw something that reminded him of her. When he ended his first practice to answer her support message, when he told her he got pole position and explained it what that meant. When he was feeling nervous about the race and needed to hear her voice.

They texted and texted, talking about everything and nothing. He liked that,she liked that. Both of them started liking their dynamic, but somehow both craved for that to become more.

She called him to invite him to a recital her students will have next week, asking him to go to support her. He answered quickly and cutted her rambling, knowing that she was nervous becase that was the first time he will get into her world.

"Hey, it's okay" he smiled. "I'll go. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there to be the person that cheers the most, okay?"

And indeed, he showed up there, with a flower bouquet for her and a box with snacks for her students. The moment the kids saw him they gasped, nit understanding why the famous Charles Leclerc walked inside the classroom with flowers for their teacher. Both of them were like the duck mom and the duck dad, him helping her with the organization with the kids, and giving them high fives before and after their performance.

"Thank you" she smiled looking at him, wrapping her arms around his waist while they watched the last kid play a small piano music song. "For coming and helping me"

"Be my girlfriend" he whispered looking at her, feeling that it was the right time to ask her

And like that, with the sweet melody of the piano on the background, she pressed her lips on his on a soft kiss, the first one of many.

They were together, happier than ever. He supported her job and she supported his, making sure to show interest on their projects and helped each other with their problems.

He helped her study something new while he played the piano and she sang next to him, feeling confident enough to show him how was her process of discovering a new song and trying to dominate it.

"I'm sorry if I sound like a chicken being killed" she sighed hitting her head softly with the paper score on her hands. "Sometimes I hate this process"

"Well, then you are the most beautiful dead chicken I've ever seen" Charles smirked, hugging her shoulders and kissing her temple. "Come on, let's repeat it, I started to understand what the score was saying"

She started going to his races six months after they started dating officially, receiving the attention of curious fans that wanted to know who was the girlfriend of the Ferrari driver, the woman that made him smile every time he stood on a podium searching on the crowd for her.

After three years together and knowing that what they had was something serious, they decided to search an apartment for both of them. It started as something to do during their free time, commenting that place and adding small "what if..." to their conversations.

"Let's move in together" he said an afternoon, with his laptop on the desk and her sitting on the couch behind him.

"Hm?" she frowned surprised.

"Let's buy that apartment" he said turning around. "The one you liked. The one where you can see the sea and has a balcony with enough space to put a tableto have breakfast every morning. No more what if"

She smiled and nod, and they immediately started to do a list of what they had and what they needed.

Their love was growing and they needed somewhere were they can share their love. No more taking turns of where to sleep, no more small spaces on the closet to fit the clothes, no more exchange of keys. Now they can share everything.

"I can't believe we did this" she said standing in the middle of their new apartment, holding his hand while watching all the furniture inside boxes and clothes on suitcases.

"Now we can adopt that puppy?" he smirked hugging her.

"Slow down, cowboy" she laughed. "First we should get used to the place"

In fact, a month later they adopted a puppy. A small golden retriever puppy that captured their heart the moment they went to the shelter.

"I can't believe they abandoned this little guy" she mumbled holding their new puppy. "We will protect you, okay buddy? You'll have a lot of friends, yeah?"

"I bet Roscoe and Angie will go crazy to meet him" Charles joked holding the bag with the things the dog needed. "Our Enzo will stole the heart of everyone on the paddock"

It was like if they had a kid, and somehow something started to blossom on their relationship. They loved each other more and more, and even if everyone saw how their relationship changed to something bigger, they never had the rush to take the next step.

He won races, championships. She won competitions and got smalls roles on operas. They bad everything they wanted, yet they never had enough.

But that changed when he had that crash.

It was the race before the summer break, Hungary. Cora was on the hospitality with an already year old Enzo laying on her feet, watching the race in silence. Charles was leading the race, but fighting with Max for the lead. It wasn't hard, he had enough power and speed to keep the gap.

"Come on, love..." she whispered, biting her lip and tapping the table softly.

Everything was going great. He was getting a bigger gap from the RedBull and the next second he was spinning and having a collision with that blue navy car.

"Oh my God!" she gasped just like the rest of the people watching the race.

He was unconscious just like Max, and both of them were sent to the hospital urgently, waking up some hours later. Charles had a hard hit on his head, so he barely remember led what happened.

"Hey, hey, take it slow" Cora whispered standing up quickly, helping him sit and handing him the water.

"What happened?" he frowned looking at her then at his hand, the IV and the small oximeter on his finger. "My head..."

"You gave us a big scare" she smiled weakly sitting at the edge of the bed, holding his hand. "I... I thought I was going to lose you..."

Charles looked at her and felt his heart break. When he woke up he didn't notice the dried tears on her cheeks and how puffy and red were her blue eyes. He was at the edge of dying, just how in many other races, but nearly crossed that line during the race.

Now he remembers how his life flashed in front of his eyes the moment he felt the car out of control, how he heard her laugh and the giggles of kids, how he felt her lips on his cheek and the way she whispered that she loves him every night before falling asleep in his arms.

That crash made him open his eyes, made him realize that it's too late to take a step back and the right moment to take the next step.

"What should we do?" he asked one night, laying on the bed with her between his arms.

"Hm? For your winter break?" she asked back softly, a little sleepy. "I thought we planned going on a trip with my family? I mean, my sister told me you talked with her..."

"No, I don't mean that" he said sitting on the bed, looking down at her. "I mean... Us. We have everything, right? The apartment of our dreams, we have Enzo, our careers are were we wanted them to be..."

"Marry me" she said sitting in front of him.

"What?" he gasped, surprised that she was reading his mind.

"Come on, we are on the 21st century. Girls can ask that too" she chuckled holding his hand. "The thing we should do us get married. I mean... At least that's what I feel that we would do, the next step, you know? And maybe talk about kids and-"

"Yes" he smiled grabbing her hands, stopping her talking. "God, yes! You were reading my mind"

"Wait, really?" she smiled surprised, frowning when she saw him getting out of the bed and walking towards the closet to grab the small red velvet box.

"Really" he nodded kneeling in front of her with one knee. "I have been thinking about it for a while, actually. Since the crash I had in Hungary..."

"Charles..." she smiled looking at the ring.

"No, no. I had everything practiced, the speech and all" he interrupted her, making her laugh with tears in her eyes. "Cora, I know you for four years already and you know how I am. The moment we met was something special that only happens once in my life. I'll never get mad to my friends for leaving me one in that bar because thanks to that I met you and that day became one of my favorites. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to see you on a dress and walk next to your dad towards me, I want you to have my last name and I want our kids to share it too. God, Cora, you are the guardian angel they brought for me"

Cora smiled, cupping his cheek and wiping away his tears. She knows how he's feeling, not having his dad and best friends with him.

"Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?" he asked with a breathless chuckle.

"Yes, I will" she smiled holding his hand and pulling him to a tender kiss. "But if someone asks I was the first to ask you to marry me, you just had the luck to have a ring already"

"Deal" he laughed, kissing her again and again.

[shieldofiron]

Moving In Stereo

Many moons ago I applied to the Harringrove Zine with a concept: what if Steve was a lifeguard with Billy at the pool. I ended up writing a completely different concept for the zine after way too many talks with @adelacreations but Lifeguard Steve has been waiting in the wings, ready to promote the Zine Preorder that opened today! The zine is made to support charity and there’s many ways that you can back it and read the crazy thing I had to write after finishing this, and all the incredible stuff the other contributors have come up with. We’re so excited to share it with you. And now without further ado: lifeguard Steve

Billy Hargrove had a new title: King of the Poolside. The whole town fawned over him, all the suburban moms who asked Steve about Billy’s schedule and blatantly stared at his body, all the teen girls who made eyes at him. Even the little kids liked him. Whenever Steve would sub in the aquatots class there would be a chorus of questions about, “Mr. Biwwy.”

It was starting to piss Steve off.

Steve didn’t mind not being King anymore. Billy could have the crown, shove it up his ass for all Steve cared. But they didn’t know the real Billy Hargrove. Despite a teary, drugged apology that night when Steve drove him home after the Byers, and the occasional conversation in the break room, Billy Hargrove remained as he always was: an asshole.

“Stick to your stand, ” Steve grumbled when Billy leaned against Steve’s leg, one golden shoulder pressing into Steve’s calf. Billy was hot all the time. Steve swore he could see steam rising off Billy’s shoulders when he rose out of the pool. Somehow he managed to do it in slow motion. The asshole.

“You can see all of the pool from your stand, though,” Billy smiled and snapped his gum, his eyes hidden by mirrored aviators.

“Then we’ll switch.”

He had to remind himself that Billy was an asshole, because for one millisecond Billy frowned and he almost looked hurt.

“Can’t be near me for even a second, huh?” Billy looked up, but his face was impossible to read behind his sunglasses. They only reflected Steve back to himself. His pink cheeks from Billy standing too close. His slightly wilted hair, curling at the ends from the heat. Billy was so shiny, chest gleaming, golden hair glassy and lustrous. Steve could see himself reflected in all the weirdest ways.

Steve shrugged. “Not my job to tell you what to do.”

Billy snorted, “You act like it enough.”

“Whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes. “One of your fan club is coming over.”

It could be splashing, but it nearly sounds like Billy muttered, “Showtime.”

It’s Karen Wheeler, tottering in a new swimsuit and heels that seem frankly dangerous close to the water’s edge. Steve twitched, the heat from where Billy’s shoulder was pressed to his leg almost throbbing with awareness.

“Hello, Steve,” She smiled too warmly. “Billy.”

“Dig the new suit, Mrs. Wheeler,” Billy pressed his sunglasses up his nose and gave her a toothy smile.

“Thank you, Billy,” She preened, and stretched out on a towel next to Steve’s stand. “The sun’s moved over here, so…”

Billy nodded, leaning into Steve’s leg, “Oh, yeah. Gotta chase those rays.”

She laughed like it’s the funniest thing she’d ever heard, and for some reason Billy did too, his white teeth gleaming.

Steve shuffled in his seat.

“Thanks for your help, Harrington,” Billy punched his leg softly, and Steve glared at him. “See you later Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Bye, Billy,” She called out hopefully. She has a bag slung over the back of her chair that reminded Steve of when Steve and Nancy used to date.

She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and asked him what he’s doing now that he’s graduated while her eyes lingered on his chest hair. Steve gritted his teeth before draping a towel over himself.

Billy Hargrove was an asshole. But Mrs. Wheeler was starting to wig Steve out pretty bad too.

That afternoon, he was still in a sour mood. The stalls at the community pool have these wimpy curtains. They barely gave the illusion of security but King Billy always acted like he couldn't see that this stall was occupied.

“Whoops, sorry, Harrington,” His voice echoed off the tiles and Steve slipped, hand waving out in the middle of nowhere to help him catch his balance.

Billy’s arm shot out and caught him by the elbow

“For fuck’s sake Billy,” Steve’s voice was higher than he wanted, and kind of breathy. Billy was stark naked except for red flip flops. “This is the third time this week.”

“Sorry, compadre, I have a lot on my mind,” Billy nodded and turned, throwing the curtain closed behind him. “Really didn’t mean it.”

“Like what? It better be good, because if my… fucking dick is going to be exposed it better be for a damn good reason,” Steve groused.

“Nothing I didn’t see in school, chill out, baby,” Steve can practically hear that toothy grin.

“What’s on your mind?”

Billy doesn’t answer right away. But the shower next door turns on, and Steve can hear the slap of Billy’s flip flops.

“How do you know if you’re in love, Harrington?”

Steve’s mouth fell open and he got a mouthful of the nasty pipe water.

“What?”He asked.

“Like… I never been in love before,” This was followed by the patter of flip flops. “So I’m trying to get some perspective.”

“I… you think you’re in love?”

“Probably,” Billy doesn’t sound happy about it. Water splashes on the tiles around Steve and he imagines the water splattering across Billy’s chest, heat rising like steam. Slow motion.

“What makes you think so?”

“I’ve been saving money,” Billy said. “I’m very close to getting back to California. I could go. But there’s this person…”

“So… tell her how you feel?” Steve expected that he would be fucking elated to find out that Billy was leaving, but instead it feels kind of empty and blank.

Billy laughed, a short firecracker burst of a sound, hitting the tiles all around Steve like a whip’s crack. It was very different from the way he laughed earlier.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Just trying to figure myself out, you know.”

“When would you leave?”

Billy sighed, “Sooner is better. They’re never gonna feel the same way. I’m kidding myself, you know?”

Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair, waiting too long before responding. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t worry about it,” This laugh sounds more like the Mrs. Wheeler laugh, loud and, Steve’s starting to suspect, fake.

“You could still give it a try,” Steve offered weakly, “You’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

The laugh got louder, “You’re a riot, Harrington. Really, you are.”

Steve drove home with his head weirdly muddled with this news. He should be psyched about Billy's leaving. And if Billy got with his crush, he would have less time to piss Steve off or flirt with everyone in town. It was a win win.

It’s only when Steve was in bed later that night, the smell of chlorine still hanging in his nose slightly, that he wondered. Why Steve said she, but Billy said they. Like it could be anyone.

Like it could be a guy.

He watched the next day, the way Billy hung back from the crowd of girls, always holding himself apart. He slid away from a girl who was practically falling out of her swimsuit, smile frozen on his shiny face. Mrs Wheeler is staring at him, and Steve is uncomfortable to think how he’s not much better.

Come to think of it, he’s never seen Billy really hang around a girl that long. Oh he talks to them, goes on dates. He sleeps with them, or so Steve has heard. He’s never attached to any of them, he never seems to linger around one more than any other. Steve used to be part of SteveAndNancy and SteveAndMichelle and SteveAndChrissy. Billy wasn’t Billy and anybody.

It’s pretty easy to keep an eye on him because the only place Billy seems to linger is around Steve’s stand. He hangs by Chet at the gate sometimes too, giving him sunny smiles that make Steve’s chest hurt. Eddie Munson rolls by sometimes at closing, sitting with Billy in the back of his van.

Steve started to stare so hard he swore he was getting blinded by the glare off of Billy’s necklace, the gleam of his fake smile.

He showered and started to lock up in a fog, when he heard a splash in the water. The pool is closed… Steve’s blood runs cold. He promised himself if he took this job that nothing like what happened to Barb would ever happen again.

He groped under the check-in desk, coming up with the plank that they use to prop open the window when the weather is stifling, and crept out into the pool area.

“Jesus, Harrington,” Billy bobbed in the water, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Steve exhaled a shaky breath, “Fuck, Billy. I thought you were like a wild animal or something.”

“Who says I’m not?”

Steve dropped the plank to his side, “What are you doing out here?”

Billy leaned back in the water, his hair floating out in a dirty blonde halo, “Taking a dip. It was hot as hell today. You wanna come in?”

“I just showered.”

Billy shook his head, “Haven’t seen you in the pool all summer. Can you even swim?”

“How do you think I got the job, asshole?” Steve frowned.

“So prove it, asshole,” Billy grinned.

Steve grumbled, hating Billy for baiting him and hating himself for rising to it.

“There’s that King Steve spirit,” Billy smiled smugly. “Feels good, right?”

Steve floated along, annoyed that it did actually feel good. He tried not to think of the mass of swimming kids he’d seen opening their mouths underwater in the pool all day, and just enjoy.

“Did you talk to your crush?”

“Talk to them every day,” Billy replied with a laugh.

That ruled out Eddie Munson.

Steve frowned, bobbing closer, “You talk to them every day and you don’t know if they like you?”

Billy smiled ruefully, “I know they don’t.”

Steve rolled his head back into the water, “You could tell them. What’s the harm, if you might leave soon? No regrets, right?”

Billy doesn’t respond, but Steve was content enough to wait, his face turned up towards the late afternoon sunset, eyes closed. He hadn’t gotten into a pool for pleasure in so long.

It almost felt like the water lapping up, brushing Steve’s face. A warm press, something soft brushing his lips. If it hadn’t been for the stifled moan, Steve might have thought it was the pool.

He opened his eyes, and Billy was covering his mouth with his hand, swimming backwards. Steve could see his own shock reflected back in Billy’s bare blue eyes.

“Sorry,” Billy said, “Fuck, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Steve blinked at him, his brain still catching on to what happened.

“I’m so-” Billy swam swiftly to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out, shaking his head.

He kissed him. Billy kissed him?

It didn’t make sense. Steve’s game has been shot. He hadn’t gotten a single date this summer, nor a single kiss. He’d been a dick to Billy, snapping at him with the slightest provocation. He wasn’t King Steve anymore and Billy could have anyone he wanted.

He was slammed out of his reverie when the gate slams shut, leaving Steve alone, bobbing like a cork.

Billy didn’t come to work the next day. Or the next. Steve felt like he was going through his days under water, in slow motion.

“He quit,” Heather raised one perfect brow, “Will you mop up in the boys bathroom? Some kid threw up a hot dog.”

Steve didn’t exactly want to clean up hot dog but it wasn’t like there was Billy around to hang out with. Billy to jostle and scowl at, Billy to float on the water with. Billy to kiss…

Later, Billy asked Steve when he realized, when he decided he needed to rush over to Cherry Lane right away and bang on the window until Billy opened up. Billy asked when Steve decided to kiss Billy then and there, in front of God and everybody.

Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was when he was mopping up chunks of hot dog, chlorine clogging his nostrils, nothing to do but think. Billy had said he loved someone. Someone he talked to every day, who didn’t like him much. Someone who could be a boy. Someone like Steve.

“You’re an asshole,” Steve laughed as he flopped through Billy’s window and wrapped his arms around him. Billy didn’t gleam like he did at the pool, all shiny surfaces. But he kissed Steve like he meant it, reflected back all the mixed up feelings swirling in Steve’s chest. All of this and in slow motion too.

[gaoau]

razzmatazz

it's the color of his loss.

is there color in your world? warnings — none. word count — 896

prev. — next.

the rich red headband on his head contrasted with the pale color of his skin. [name] grinned brightly at him with her own white headband in hand. she forced it into his palm. suna quirked a questioning brow as he stared down at it.

"wouldja tie it fer me?" she spun around on her heels, clasping her hands behind her back. a lively tune swam into the air while she bounced on the balls of her feet.

suna huffed out a sigh. not at [name] and her spontaneity—he hadn't gotten completely used to them, but he couldn't say they bothered him anymore. [name] chuckled to herself as he wrapped her headband neatly, careful not to pull at her hair on accident.

he tightened the knot with a bit too much force out of playfulness. "there." her shoulders stiffened and she whipped around in an instant. suna feigned innocence with a smile.

"yours s'crooked." it wasn't, though. her fingers were tugging at the red fabric before he could protest. she acted quick and softly flicked his forehead. his smile widened. "seems fittin'," she commented, arms akimbo as she gazed at the color.

suna glanced up in a failed attempt to see the headband. "i thought i was colorless."

"i mean, red suits ya." [name] laughed. it wasn't the practiced giggles or the bubbling cackles. this one was new, a rumble behind closed lips. not his favorite, but better than seeming a robot. then again, when did he start ranking her laughter?

"care to expand?"

"i'm learnin' with ya, suna-kun. red looks real good on you. brings out yer eyes."

"white suits you, i guess." although he couldn't tell if it did, returning her words would most likely please her.

her ahahaha! giggles spilled and pooled at their feet. suna wanted to kick them away. so annoying. he really hated them. "i ever told ya i like yer eyes?"

a chuckle slipped. "that explains why you love eye contact so much."

her laughter this time bubbled from inside her chest. the grin on her lips crinkled her eyes, yet they always found their way to his own. "by the way," she remembered, digging her hand into her backpack. "noble fruit for a noble fruit. or s'that cannibalism?" she presented him with a clear container.

he could see the pear carefreely cut into cubes packed together inside the hard plastic. suna cringed at the idea of fruit cannibalism, but laughed nonetheless. "i'll take the pear, thanks." he nodded his head while accepting the container from her. [surname] smiled warmly at him.

far in the distance, away where the enthusiastic first-years vibrated with excited anticipation for their first high-school sports festival, music signaled the start of competition. the dance club walked on stage and took the responsibility of pumping every student up with polished synchronization. juvenile chants and cheers echoed around the inarizaki campus.

suna stared uninterested at the kids letting the tunes grab hold of their bodies to sway them and everyone else along. beside him, [name] imitated their moves, albeit smaller and with less charisma. it clicked in his brain. she twirled in place, a shining beam pulling at her lips.

he stabbed his finger on her side to stop her from hitting him with her flowing hands. [name] squeaked and halted, eyes blinking owlishly at him. "shouldn't you be up there?" suna nodded towards the stage.

"eh? ah. oh. naw." all emotions known to humans swept over her face in a millisecond. she dismissed them with a shrug, resuming her quiet dancing. "just helped 'em out with the choreo an' positions an' stuff. i know a thing or two 'bout dance, but not enough to dance."

"how do you manage to say that while dancing right in front of me?" suna stepped away from her swinging arm. thank the volleyball reflexes.

yet not even those sharpened reflexes could save him from [surname]'s swift claws as they grasped his wrist. "well, dancin's pretty fun, ya know. dontcha think?" she spun herself underneath his arm, mimicking the students on stage with their own assigned partners. "i leave the spotlight an' the whole razzmatazz to 'em, though—oh!" her grip vanished while she clapped her hands. "that's a good color!"

"what?" suna blinked. a smile rose to his mouth at the sheer absurdity of her random prancing. how she never got tired from jumping around subjects was beyond him.

"razzmatazz!" [name] clapped again. "i'll show it to ya f'the red team wins."

he rose a brow at the declaration. "what if the white team wins?"

her cackles were genuinely human, originating from the core of her chest. "then you'll have ta live without it. learnin's more fun when it challenges ya."

black and white. colorless. [name] had made it clear since the first time she spoke a single word to him.

suna didn't know what it meant. when the white team won, he thought he was starting to understand. he decided against searching the color up on his own. it wouldn't have been the same.

he had to live without it in a monotonous world reigned by colorlessness. he didn't want to anymore, so he would sit and wait to win the next one.

[blazehedgehog]

My experience with Final Fantasy 8 is as follows (spoilers):

Oh man, Final Fantasy 7 was like the greatest thing I ever played. Maybe better than Earthbound, maybe better than Chrono Trigger, definitely better than Final Fantasy 2 (4). I put 100+ hours into FF7, did literally everything, and did most of it without using a guide. I can't wait for the next one.

Holy shit, the demo for Final Fantasy 8 is incredible. This game is going to rule. I'm over the moon with excitement.

Okay, FF8 just came out out, I'm going to rent it.

Euh... this is a long, boring intro, and they changed the sequence from the demo to be a lot less cool. But it's fine. I guess. I get up to around the point where you either first reach or go back to Timber. I never rent it again after this one time because it doesn't grab me.

Over ten years pass. During this time, I harbor no ill feelings about Final Fantasy 8.

I became aware of Spoony's videos during the early dawn of internet video, but they were long. Too long. I never watched him.

I'm over at my cousin's place. She hands me a copy of Final Fantasy 8. "My stupid ex left this here and I don't want it. Do you?"

Uh, yeah, sure, I guess. I never got a chance to finish it and by now I've forgotten why.

Re-start Final Fantasy 8 from the beginning. So it's like, Harry Potter by way of Neon Genesis Evangelion?

Squall is such a walking stereotype. You'd almost think he was a parody of something.

Zell is so pathetic in such a specific way that he kind of becomes my favorite character. (CHICKENWUSS)

These kids are barely old enough to drive and they're supposed to be world class wizard assassins? They're being asked to kill the most powerful witch on the entire planet? Most of them don't even know how to file their taxes.

Finally get to their big assassination scene against the witch.

They are trying so hard to make Rinoa seem cute and likeable.

I know the "you stay behind for your own safety" damsel thing is a bad trope, but it was pretty clearly established that Squall's team had the assassination planned out to the millisecond and any distraction, deviation or hesitation from that plan will lead to the entire team being murdered. It had to go perfectly. And yet Rinoa is dumb enough to jump into action at the last second and screw everything up. Surprise: it ends in what is basically the worst possible scenario! Depending on your read of this situation, Squall's own blood is on her hands, and not even for any particularly good reason! She just did it on impulse! She is such an idiot it actually makes me angry!

But somehow Squall miraculously survives what should be a VERY fatal blow without so much as a scar, in a game where this same character wears a scar as a fashion accessory. And it's never explained.

Final Fantasy 8 rapidly loses me as the tone of the entire story changes completely. I'm starting to wonder if I still care about what's going on.

Okay, we're going to split into two teams, with Team A trying to stop a missile launch, and Team B trying to do... something. A train? Was there a train involved? It's been a while.

TEAM B DIED?

Well I'm back at school again and THE PRINCIPAL IS MARRIED TO THE EVIL ALL-POWERFUL WITCH THAT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO KILL?

THERE'S SOME KIND OF SLUG MONK LIVING IN A CYBER-EGG IN THE BASEMENT?

THE WHOLE ENTIRE SCHOOL CAN FLY??

I definitely don't care enough about this anymore. I'm done.

Screenshots from the last time I touched the game in 2012 judging by the Dscaler date in the file names.

I never looked back.

I had a lot to say about Final Fantasy VIII at the MAGFest soapbox.

(Thank you Shadow Hog for recording this.)

[kuroosdarling]

heartache by the number

kuroo x reader

a/n: ANGST/NO COMFORT. big sad emotions here. the title is from a song that goes well with this fic! remember, kuroo loves you and would never do this to you <3

also not tagging anyone on the fic bc i didn’t know if y’all wanna be included on the angst. <33

part 2

“why not me?” you plead, not caring how pathetic you sound. you felt each tendon of your heart snapping as you desperately searched his eyes for an ounce of hope. you were only met with guilt. not only was he shredding you heart, he was stealing your breath, your very lifeline. the air was suffocating and all you could do was stand there and suffer.

“im sorry.” he said tightly. like he couldn’t offer up any more emotion. no, that was all reserved for her now. “it was always her.”

there it was. the killing blow. the basis of the arguments you had been having with each other for the past few months. you finally got your answer. you were right all along. he loved her.

it hadn’t always felt like this. it was only when kuroo had gotten a new coworker is when things started to change. he had been so excited, especially because she used to go to the same high school as him. he had explained how they lost touch after he graduated.

when he talked about her, you saw his eyes begin to shine more and more. she was stealing his heart right before your very eyes. you didn’t want to believe it, so you didn’t. you just pretended she was some far off myth that you’d never have to interact with.

wrong again. he started inviting her to the hang outs with you and your mutual friends. she was beautiful, of course. she got along well with everyone. when he would laugh, his attention was on her. when she smiled, he would gaze over at her and look at her with a softness that used to be reserved only for you.

eventually, you couldn’t hide in your denial anymore. that’s when the arguments started and everything had gotten worse.

kuroo would have more late nights at work, wouldn’t text you as much throughout the day, and he’d never have a good enough excuse as to why.

everything had hit the point today. the last argument. hell, maybe even the last conversation. you look at him, still not believing you were having this conversation with him. you thought back on the way he looked at her, the way he obviously made her feel. the way you didn’t make him feel anything anymore.

“okay.” you said, trying to reel in the sob that was threatening below the surface. you didn’t need any more pity. you weren’t even sure if he felt bad, he had completely turned off his emotions right now. he had always been good at hiding them, and you had always been good at reading him. but now, it’s like the language changed and you’re right back where you started. “let me get my things. i’m going to go stay with bo tonight.”

he nodded. not even another word for you. he looked down at his feet. he couldn’t even look at you now? how the fuck did you get here? the image of her filled your mind again. you let out a defeated sigh and march on to your shared bedroom. you take the essentials as bokuto or someone else can grab the rest of it another day.

you walk back out into the living room. he hadn’t moved. you go to open your mouth to say something but you’re cut off by his phone ringing. instinctually, you look down at the phone laying on the coffee table and see her picture on the screen. of course. you almost laugh to yourself.

you were basically being thrown out of your world while she was more than eager to take your place. probably ready to comfort kuroo once you were gone. you couldn’t waste another moment here. you needed to get out.

you pause at the door for a millisecond, the last bit of hope in you dying out as kuroo doesn’t say anything. you nod to yourself and walk out the door, having no reason to look back.

[brucewayneargento-moved]

Back and Forth - ReneTheStan

Additional Tags:

AngstAngst and Tragedy, Tragedy, Hurt No Comfort, Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Note

Summary:

"Jon…Jon I can't take it anymore…I don't even know why I'm calling you. You're still in space or whatever. I was an idiot to think that I could have a friend, and even more so to believe that anyone would even care. Grayson abandoned me, also my father and Alfred...Alfred died because of me...I...

"Who am I kidding, Jon?...I can't go on with this anymore"

Fic under cut

As he bounced his feet against the tiled floor to kill time waiting for visiting hours to arrive, young Jonathan Samuel Kent thought about the contrast of light and dark that was produced by the sunlight that entered through the windows covered with metal bars.

The neuropsychiatry section of Arkham Asylum was not at all what the son of Superman had expected. Perhaps the legends that his "little brother" had told him about the place were simply exaggerations to scare him when they were little.

A couple of lonely tears escaped her eyes, making their way down her cheeks and ending up on the marble floor. Jon clenched his fists as if that would make time pass faster.

Going back to the look of the place, it didn't deviate much from what the hospitals in Metropolis, if you count the baroque architecture, pointed and with decorative gargoyles that covered every inch of the place, but... what else to expect from Gotham City?

"Jonathan?" The eighteen year old boy looked up and met the brown eyes of Dr. Thompkins.

The steps taken from the waiting room to room 206 were too slow for the son of Superman. As if the New Gods wanted to torture him by making the whole process as burdensome as possible. The boy felt like he had a noose around his neck that only tightened with each step on the marble floor of the hallway.

But no matter how much he was suffering at the time…he had made a promise and Lois Lane's son would never break a promise.

When they reached the  room, Jon took a deep breath, steeled himself, and slowly turned the doorknob.

Jon just breathed calmly when he could see Bruce Wayne had not hung from a rope made of sheets, but was coloring a children's book on a chair in front of his bed.

ONE WEEK AGO

Jon knew deep down that something had gone terribly wrong as soon as he heard his mother crying from his room. The mere thought of that happening was enough to wake the teen from his nap.

His first instinct was to fly out of there, which he did at great speed. In a split second he found himself in the kitchen of Jonathan Senior and Martha Kent. In it, the two older adults were watching a report by Jon's mother on TV, where there was a large red banner that read: "latest news."

"Mom," Jon said quietly realizing his mother wasn't really there. "Pa, Ma…what's going on?" The boy turned to see his grandparents.

Martha was a very sensitive woman and at that moment she was stoic, almost in shock, while Jonathan was the one who was crying.

"Jonny…it's about your little friend in Gotham City…"

.

.

.

 

Jon didn't need to use his laser vision to know that Bruce was barricaded in his youngest son's room.

The outward flight was practically a millisecond, the boy of steel found himself at the gate of Wayne Manor, around him there were hundreds of police officers commanded by James Gordon Sr., who warned the boy's deaf ears that Superman was already in the premises and that it was best not to intervene.

But Jon wasn't listening. Rather, he was focused on the beating of his father's heart. It sounded erratic and of almost uninterrupted frequency.

Jon could have sworn he blinked just once and suddenly found himself in Bruce Wayne's hallway.

His father, the man of steel, was sitting outside the main room. With his head in his hands

"Bruce…Bruce please get out of there…" He begged, like someone who had already given up completely.

"Oh Jon," Superman said looking up, noticing his son. "I didn't want you to find out like this…"

"How long has he been there?" Jon asked coldly.

"Three days, at least…" Jon ignored the pain of that information.

"I've tried everything to make him see reason, to make him understand that Damian…but he's not listening to me, he's like in a trance. I tried to force him out but he has kryptonite and I…"

"I'm going in…"

" Jon, I've tried everything, what makes you think that–

"Mr. Wayne? I'm Jon Kent…Damian's friend."

A minute of silence passed. Jon took a deep breath.

"Listen Mr. Wayne, we both love Damian, I know you don't want to believe he would have done something like that, I don't either. …

"I'll help you get to the bottom of this if you let me in"

The door opened slowly, from inside came a thick, almost sinister voice.

"I'll just talk to the boy…" Batman warned.

Jon tried not to burst into tears the moment he stepped into Damian's room and the door closed behind him. In that split second he saw the legs sticking out from behind his large Victorian bed in a pool of blood.

"Superboy…" Batman said in his typical pentatonic voice. "Keep your composure, no matter how real it looks, you must believe what I tell you…"

"My son didn't kill himself…"

His violet eyes met Bruce's bloodshot blue ones.

"It's a Scarecrow or Bane trick…Damian would never do something like that, he's too stubborn to die like that…"

Jon nodded slowly.

"Mr. Wayne…"

"Names, Superboy."

Jon nodded again. "Maybe it would be easier if you could show me how you came to that conclusion, I believe you, it's my father who needs to be convinced…

"Sure, Superboy…" Batman said. "Well, to begin with, when Alfred examined the body, he found that–"

He stopped in his tracks. Jon watched as Batman's pupils slowly returned to their original size and the red color left his eyes. At that moment he knew his move had gone too well.

"Alfred…Dick…Damian… "

"I'm so sorry, Bruce…"

Another minute of pause and silence passed.

"Bruce!" Jon yelled and used his super speed to snatch the batarang out of her hands and grab it from behind before she could even brace it against his chest. throat.

"Jon," Bruce said softly. "I'm dead anyway. "

"I'll be sent to Arkham for interfering with a police investigation during an emotional breakdown, at least let me be with my son."

Jon ignored all the emotions that suddenly surged through him upon hearing that and remained stoic.

"Damian was strong throughout his life and in your one weak moment you decided to kill yourself, if you weren't strong yourself...it would be an insult to your memory."

"I will visit you in Arkham and give you my protection if necessary."

ONE WEEK LATER.

Jon returned to home after the funeral, he told his parents he needed space and they didn't object. The eighteen-year-old boy went to his room and decided to open his cell phone to see who had left messages of condolence for him.

He didn't expect to find a Voicemail from two weeks ago from Damian. His finger moved independently of his brain and he pressed play.

"Jon…Jon I can't take it anymore…I don't even know why I'm calling you. You're still in space or whatever. I was an idiot to think that I could have a friend, and even more so to believe that anyone would even care. Grayson abandoned me, also my father and Alfred...Alfred died because of me...I...

"Who am I kidding, Jon?...I can't go on with this anymore"

The tone that indicates the end of the message sounded. Jon buried his face between his knees and covered his head with his arms.

[angelsxbelle]

hq boys when they cheat on you.

this is so angsty i’m sorry buy- i was in desperate need of haikyuu cheating angst and i couldn’t find any so i wrote some:’)

characters: atsumu, tendou, semi, bokuto

i hope this is okay, i might do more of this as a series with different characters- also for whatever reason my bokuto tags weren’t working??

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing explicit, angst, unresolved angst in some, general sadness

ATSUMU  ♡  you had noticed a change in the man you had once called your boyfriend, the late nights, the lipstick on his shirt that didn’t look familiar. the feeling that he didn’t want you anymore. and yet to the untrained eye he was the same loving and caring boyfriend he had always been. you could have sworn he was exactly the same as when you first started dating, when he was in love with you and only you. he claimed to have just been tired, he was affectionate but somewhat hesitant, as if there was something he was looking for somewhere else but couldn’t find it. so when you came home early from work one night, remembering he would still be at the practice he said he had, you finally saw what he was looking for, the bags of groceries crashing and breaking on the floor as you clutched your hand to your chest in disbelief, fingers clawing at the fabric of your shirt. atsumu’s eyes shot up to you in a millisecond, you could see the cold fear in them as he realized that you had just walked in on him on top of another girl in your bed. “b-babe! It’s not what it looks like i promise! ya just walked in at the wrong time!” you hesitated, “h-how could you do this to me tsumu? you said i was good enough, that you love me, was it nothing this entire time? you said at the beginning no other girl could compare to me, am i just nothing to you? nothing?” “just please stay i promise i can fix it! please don’t go ya can’t-” “don’t do this to me tsumu”, you say as tears spill down your cheeks. you force yourself to walk away, taking small steps as you feel like you’re about to throw up. he was right, you thought. those other girls could never compare to how worthless you were.

TENDOU  ♡  being with tendou was amazing at first, he was the best boyfriend you could ever have asked for, he always knew what to do to make you fall in love with him even more, the little things that you would always notice he did for you. and as you settled into your relationship things were still just as good, you were closer to him than before. as you had known tendou in high school and after graduating you knew him better than anyone else did, about his past, his insecurities, his fears. he was a cheerful and playful person normally, it was part of his personality but it was also his way of hiding the things he didn’t want anyone else to see. you noticed lately he was getting clingier, more anxious, the smile on his face had started to slip away as the days past and he seemed less and less like himself. all you could do was comfort him, while you laid in bed with him and held his face to your chest as you whispered all the things you loved about him into his ears as tears streamed down his face. and then one afternoon while he was at work, you got a text from your best friend. you read what she had said, but you just couldn’t understand. so you waited for him to come home. it was silent. you stood in front of him, while he sat at your kitchen table. “satori, i know you cheated on me.” his eyes got wide and you could see the panic etched in his face. “before you freak out, i’m not leaving, i hate that you did this to me, but i’m going to forgive you.” he broke down in tears in front of you, his sobs echoing off the walls of your shared apartment. you walked up to him and wrapped him up in a tight hug. “i’m s-sorry”, he cried while clutching on to your shirt, “i’ll never do it again.” you said, “i love you, and i know you need me right, now, and if you ever do i’ll leave but for right now, i can’t lose you. we can figure this out, i promise.”

SEMI  ♡  he had always told you he got shy seeing people he knew come to his shows, that it would make him nervous and that he’d mess up and freeze on the spot. and you believed him, and kept your distance since you knew you were the one he came home to, and you trusted him. and so you were content with just laying on his bare chest at home, listening to him pluck away at his guitar as he sung softly for you, it was moments like these that made up for it all. things had been going well for you, but when you had a night off of work the same day as one of his shows, you figured it couldn’t hurt to try and see him if you hid in the shadows where he couldn’t see you, and just listen to him play. and so you snuck away that night, butterflies in your stomach from nerves and hopefulness. just as you had imagined, he was amazing, every word he sang came out of his heart alive, and after it was all over you made your way backstage, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset with you. so there you stood, in the doorway of the backstage entrance, feeling your heart drop the ground and shatter as you watched your boyfriend kissing another girl against the wall, grabbing handfuls of her ass and her hair, like you had never even existed at all. his eyes opened, and grew wide as he saw you standing in the doorway. “b-babe! what are you doing here?” “i came to see you, i guess you were right, i shouldn’t have come here at all”, you said, voice cracking as you fought back tears. “w-we can still make this right though, she didn’t mean anything to me!” you could see in his eyes that he knew he was fighting a losing battle, and as you saw tears prick at the corner of his eyes, you turned around and muttered, “goodbye eita.”

BOKUTO  ♡  from the day that he asked you out with a boyish grin on his face and a blush painting his round cheeks, bokuto koutarou had been the best person to be by your side, always the right choice for you and the only man you could ever imagine being with your entire life. even after years he never changed, every day with him was just as interesting as the last and he always showered you with love, never letting you forget how much he loved you. sometimes he had to reassure you since you would get insecure occasionally, reminded of the twitter comments saying the bokuto koutarou deserved someone better looking. he would kiss you all over, saying he loved every part of you and that you were all his, forever. one night you were watching one of your favorite movies together, cuddled up on the couch together wrapped up in layers of blankets with his big arms wrapped around you. he got up to go use the bathroom, and you sat alone on the couch waiting for him to come back when you heard his phone buzz, and decided to stop and look at it to make sure it wasn’t for work. 1 image attachment. 2 image attachments. you opened up instagram to check and your heart rate skyrocketed once you saw what it was. pictures of a girl with what you could barely call lingerie on showed up on the screen, a girl with a much nicer body than yours and perfect features. “babyyy i’m baaack!!!” you looked up and held up the phone, whispering, “kou, what is this?” his face completely distorted into an expression of pure horror, all the color washing away from his cheeks. “i- i didn’t ask for those, i promise! she must be one of my fans that tried to send me pictures, i’ll block her right now!” “how am i supposed to believe you kou, you can do so much better and you know it”, you almost shouted. his heart broke when he realized what you really thought of yourself. tears started to stream down your face at the same time they leaked from your boyfriend’s eyes, he pulled you in close, whispering in your ear, “i would never hurt you baby, i love you too much.” you held onto him tighter, you knew he was telling the truth and you also knew he’d never hurt you either, never in his whole life.

so um- yeah bokuto’s originally wasn’t supposed to have a wholesome ending but he was too much of a cinnamon roll i couldn’t do it :’)

[dclsbaby]

Let You Go - Dominic Calvert-Lewin (One Shot) 🦋

Summary: You leave Dom without warning after his mum expresses her disapproval of you and he tries to get you to come home with him. (Massive thanks to @dee192​ for requesting this, I changed it up a tiny bit but I hope you’ll still like it) 🤍 x

Warnings: painful pain angsty angst

Word Count: 2.1k

masterlist

“She doesn’t want to see you,” you could hear your friend say. “Please, let me just talk to her, fuck, let me just see her!” Dom begs.

“There’s not much I can do Dom, please you have to understand. Seeing you right now isn’t what she wants, or needs!” your friend replies. “What does she not want? Me? She doesn’t want me anymore?” he asks. “I—I don’t,” your friend sighs, not knowing what to say. “That’s right you can’t answer me, so let me fucking see her,” Dom pleads.

“I need answers! Let me fucking in!” his voice getting louder and louder, your friend unable to contain him for much longer.

You rested your head behind the door, trying to listen in on their conversation. Your emotions were all over the place, you so badly wanted to run up to him, tell him that of course you want him, but your relationship just wasn’t on the cards.

Words of “I’ve seen the likes of you before”, “you will never be enough for him” and “you are just another gold digger trying to rob him of all his money” said by his mother play through your mind over and over. And he doesn’t even know it.

Barely half an hour since that painful conversation, you swiftly packed all your things into two full suitcases and left your shared home to take shelter at your friend’s home.

You wiped the house clean of your things with except for a post-it that says,

I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.

You deserve someone better.

Please just trust me and let me go.

The paper wasn’t big enough to write an explanation, and you weren’t planning to give him one anyway.

Since then, it’s been two weeks of complete silence from your end.

Now, he’s standing in your friend’s driveway, arguing with her after getting a tip from a friend of his on your whereabouts.

***

You are desperate to see him, even for a split second. You needed to see him, just once more, to forever remind yourself of the contours of his face you used to trace with your fingertips, the full lips you sorely miss, and the comfort of his arms you so painfully want to be wrapped in. To remind yourself of your one true love, that no other man after him could ever live up to.

Giving into your impulses, you step behind the window to catch a glimpse of him. One peek was all it took for his head to shoot up to where you stood, as if his senses activated the second you were in sight.

You’ve been seen.

You felt your body freeze, before making a run for the stairs to hide yourself from him.

“(Y/N)...” he whispered. “(Y/N)—No, don’t run away from me!” Dom chases after you. Of course, he beats you to it and grabs your arm, making it impossible to reach the top of the stairs. Reminder to never even be bothered to run away from a professional athlete ever again. There’s no point.

“Don’t fucking run away from me for fuck’s sake!” he yells at you. Catching up to you within milliseconds.

“What the fuck do you want, Dom?” pulling your arm out his grasp, your hostility surprising Dom. You take a step, hovering above him. “What the fuck do I want? I want you to fucking come home! I want you to talk to me so we can work this out like fucking adults!”

“I don’t want to fucking talk to you, I made that very clear,” you tell him. “You left without an explanation, (Y/N)! You honestly think that I deserved that? That I deserved to come home to an empty house, to find the love of my life gone, and a stupid piece of paper telling me that you’ve left? Fuck off,” Dom shakes his head in anger.

“You just have to trust me, please, just leave,” you plead. “I am not fucking leaving until you give me answers.”

“Did you cheat on me?” Dom’s voice barely made it out. “Cheat on you? Of course I didn’t, how, how could you even think that?” taken aback at his question. “I don’t know, maybe you’ve been playing a game this whole time,” his voice gets louder with every syllable.

“A game? You think I’m enjoying this? Fine, the fucking truth is, I am split in two, Dom. I left half of my heart with you in that house that I no longer can function. You haven’t seen what I’ve been like over the past couple of weeks, so you don’t get to accuse me of playing a game,” you retaliate.

“You haven’t seen what I’ve been like!” upset at what you said. “You left for no reason! You barely gave me an explanation! I am so in over my head that I’ve been shit at training, shit at games, I’ve had the entire Goodison yell profanities at me when I got taken off, I’ve disappointed everyone because my mind, my heart, and my fucking soul is set on you!” Dom angrily lets out his thoughts.

“So it’s my fault? Great, another thing that I should take blame for,” you chuckle sarcastically, feeling overwhelmed. “Cheers Dom, nice talk, have a great night,” you proceed to walk up the stairs before Dom pulls you back down.

“I’m not fucking done with you,” he says sternly. “We are working this out now,” gesturing to the floor.

“Fine, not here, you’ll wake the entire neighbourhood up,” you continue your way up the stairs and into your friend’s guest bedroom, with Dom trailing behind you. Dom nearly shudders at the sight of the room, unhappy that you’ve made it into a home with everything so tidy, so in place, so cosy. He briefly wonders if you’ll ever come back.

***

The second the door was shut, you and Dom went back to arguing. And he wasted no time.

“You shut me out for weeks! You packed up your bags and left while I was at training, you don’t pick up my calls, you ignore my texts, you hide out at your friend’s place while we have our own home, you left me with nothing except for that stupid post-it!” he pants. “How the fuck do you think that made me feel? You’ve put our entire relationship in a small piece of fucking paper,” he looks away for a moment. “You couldn’t even say goodbye.”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye to you? Did it ever occur to you that if you ever tried to stop me I would’ve stayed and been with you even though I know it wouldn’t work?” you raise your voice.

“How would you fucking know that it wouldn’t work? You barely gave us a chance to work it out, you just left!” his arms flail in frustration. “I don’t even know what we’re meant to work out, why you even left!”

Silence fills the air before Dom shifts closer to you.

“Why did you leave me?” Dom softly asks, barely making eye contact. You let out a deep breath at his question.

“You don’t get it Dom, you just don’t,” you look onto the floor. “What is it that I don’t get? Tell me, please,” Dom begs.

You’ve been cornered and there is no escape.

“Your mother hates me, and there’s nothing I can do about it,” shaking your head. “My mother? What?” Dom pulls back and sits up straight.

“We had a conversation,” you’re finally about to speak your truth. Dom’s head shot up, confused.

“You weren’t home, she came over and sat me down,” you pause, pressing your lips together, bracing yourself for what’s about to come out of your mouth. “Your mum told me that I am a gold digger, that I’m with you for the money and the fame,” you can feel tears pooling in your eyes. “Wh—what?” Dom takes a sharp inhale in shock. “She sees her as her own daughter and I can’t live up to that,” you refer to his ex.

Dom looks up to the ceiling in disbelief. “Your mom told me she knew I couldn’t make a living for myself with the job that I have, and accused me of preying on you to be set for life,” a tear rolled down your eye to which you quickly wiped. “I—” “And she’s right, in a way,” you look up at him, cutting him off. “You bought us a house, you built us a home, you provide me with comfort, you give me security,” you pause for a moment. “You gave me everything, whilst I gave you nothing.”

Dom stays silent knowing there’s more. And he’s right. “But even if you didn’t have all of those things, even if you barely have a penny in your pocket, I’d still be in love with you. If everything we have, if everything you have would be taken away from you right this second, I’d still be in love with you,” you place a hand on his right cheek, and notice that his eyes have turned bloodshot red.

“But I also can’t handle disapproval. If your mother thinks that you’re better off without me, as much as it kills me,” you begin to cry. “I—I have to respect that,” your voice breaking. “I just want you to be happy, even if that means I’d have to let you go.

Dom pulls you into his arms, holding you, embracing you, harder than ever before.

“I don’t care what my mother thinks, I am in love with you and only you,” Dom assures you whilst trying to process what you said. “You have given me more than I could ever offer. You’ve shown me that I am a man who deserves to be loved. You’ve filled me in with so much love my heart could burst at any given time. You’ve given me more reasons to live and give my all in this world. That is more than anything I could give you.”

“You deserve someone else,” your voice breaks. “I deserve you. I have no interest in reliving my past or even have anyone from my past be a part of my life today, because you are my life,” he says, staring into your eyes hoping you believe him.

You look up to him in shock and relief at the same time, if that’s even possible.

“I love you too much,” he says, holding your face in his hands. “I would marry you right fucking now if I could, I would get eloped with you right now and run away from the world. Just the two of us,” Dom tells you. “We don’t need anyone’s blessing. I don’t care for it,” he confesses. “I just want you.”

“We can’t be together Dom, your mum—” “—I don’t care what she thinks. I am grown enough to know what’s meant for me and what isn’t. She was massively out of line and shouldn’t have made such a despicable accusation,” he says, pissed off.

“Don’t say that, she’s your mother,” you try to calm him down. “I get that, but she’s almost cost me the love of my life, and if I lost you I can’t ever forgive her for that,” he whispers. “We’ll go through this together, you have to believe me when I say that I’m not letting anyone get in the way of us,” he tries to convince you. “You should’ve known that I would do anything to protect what we have.”

“I didn’t want to put you in a position where you had to choose,” you say to him. “I understand, but that isn’t your choice to make baby,” Dom says.

“I love you, (Y/N). No one and nothing can get in the way of that, ever, you have to believe me, please,” Dom begs. “I love you,” you say it back.

Dom puts a hand behind your neck, pulling you close before planting a hard kiss on your tear-stained lips. The kiss was desperate, full of longing, desire, and rage all in one.

It was a kiss that almost went too far, but there was something else you both needed to do.

You broke off the kiss and pulled away from him.

“Come home with me? Please?” Dom asks, hoping you’d come back home and never leave again.

“Only if you help me pack,” you tease. Dom’s face brightens up, dimples on either of his cheeks, his nose scrunching in excitement.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says, a peck on the lips after every ‘I love you’.

You both stood up, ready to make a mess out of your friend’s guest bedroom.

Dom places his hands on your hips tugging them closer to his, before leaning into your face. “Don’t ever leave me again,” he pleads.

“Never.”

[idontblushsrry]

Anon asked:  Hello, Anon! May I ask a Hiei from YYH fic, where S/O is a little jealous of how close Mukuro and Hiei have become. Try to been mature and if Hiei likes her back (he does) he will come to her, she wait for it as she moves her relationship forward and hopefully it becomes something more, but something happens that makes her doubt and that makes her remember why she has never dared to say what she feels so she explodes a little and leaves away until the boy is curious to know what happens to her.

A/N: Slightly rushed and open ended ending but I hope you enjoy anyways!

Word count: 1262

They went so well together.

Despite everyone else’s assurances that Hiei saw Mukuro as nothing more than a friend, that was so obviously a lie. Sweet as the sentiment is, your friends trying to protect your feelings hurt even more in the long run. 

Hiei didn’t smile at just anyone like that.

“Hello!”, Botan’s hand waved in front of your face, obscuring your view of their conversation. “Earth to planet Y/N. Did you get any of what I just said?”

As much as you loved her, you needed Botan to move her hand within the next five milliseconds. 

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch it.” From the corner of your eye, Botan pouted, brows furrowed and hand still in your way. 

“Y/N”, a long drawn out whine of your name, it managed to snap your attention towards the reaper, ““What was the point of even asking me about the latest Spirit World gossip if you weren’t even going to listen?”

Of course, Botan could never know but, you only asked her so that you’d have a valid excuse to stay behind and attempt to eavesdrop on Hiei and Mukuro’s conversation. Hiei was frighteningly perceptive and you didn’t need to give him a reason to suspect you were jealous of Mukuro or even that you had feelings for him.

You snap out of your thoughts to see Botan’s hand snapping in your face once again. “Y/N, are you alright?”

At that, Hiei’s head turns, focus going from Mukuro to you. You look away the second his head turns and completely miss the concerned look Hiei spares you. 

“I-I’m fine Botan.”, she looks unconvinced, glancing at you, then Hiei, then you again.

Seems she’s put together the pieces, a cattish mischief takes over her expression, replacing the previously concerned one “Y/N, you sly devil, you’ve nothing to worry about my dear, you already know H-”

“Let’s just go Botan, please.”

Maybe any other day, she might have continued, but the sound of your voice on the cusp of tears gave her pause. As you dragged her along, she didn’t put up much of a fight; she didn’t say anything either, letting your thoughts be your only companion on the walk out.

You decided to look to the bright side of things.

Hiei dating Mukuro was the perfect opportunity for you to get over your feelings for him. No, you weren’t happy, in fact, some part of you fought, kicked, and screamed against your plan of action. But, that part of you could be repressed, along with the part of you that still had has feelings for Hiei.

It didn’t matter that you once thought you and Hiei’s relationship was deeper than that. It didn’t matter what Botan said, and it sure as hell didn’t matter what you felt. 

That’s another brightside. Now you could reexamine you and Hiei’s relationship from a much more (admittedly pessimistic) informed perspective. Apparently Hiei had already written you off in his mind, his cold behaviour towards you further cementing that.

Sure, he was cold to everyone but a part of you thought that maybe he was saving all of his softness for you, oh how wrong you were.

Heartbreak was a bitch, but you were determined to keep it together for as long as possible, and keeping it together involved avoiding Hiei completely, then so be it.

It had been nearly three weeks since you started your self-imposed ban, in all that time, you were proud to say that you’d only asked after Hiei once. You’d sought out Kurama and asked if he knew where the fire demon had gone. Ever the gentleman, Kurama didn’t comment on the desperation in your tone, he just smiled politely and informed you of a mission that Hiei had undertaken for Mukuro.

You didn’t ask about him anymore after that.

The feeling was strange, putting yourself back together when you were alone, yet saving face and remaining gracious in public. Your heart still ached, but you could find solace in knowing that Hiei was at the very least happy. 

Your progress halted one night, memories of Hiei and hopes of what could’ve been left your dreams tainted. If your heart was set on punishing your mind, it had succeeded. 

That same night, you went to the balcony of your apartment. If sleep would not come to you, at least you could watch the sunrise. As you sat there wrapped up in your blanket when the very man you’d been trying to avoid appeared in front of you.

“You’ve been missing.”, brief and to the point as he always was, Hiei spared no words on protecting feelings.

“I could say the same to you.”, this conversation needed to end quickly. Already you were on the verge of tears, the anger in Hiei’s voice sending your anxiety skyrocketing.

Even in the darkness, even when angry, Hiei was always someone to behold. You’d never been on the recieving end of his temper, he was kind to you, or so you thought. Perhaps he was just too aloof too care, either way, this sudden burst of anger is both unexpected and befitting of a fire demon.

“Y/N, you know that’s not what I’m talking about. Botan told me you got the compact I sent you, why didn’t you call me?!”

You don’t respond, merely looking at your feet, trying to hold back tears at the sound of his voice rising. Hiei moved closer, the shadow he cast growing larger and larger with each step. Soon, his shoes came into view, your mind tried to distract you with random one off facts about shoes. 

The moment he touched your chin, your plan failed, your brain short-circuited and you were forced to confront the fact that, despite your best efforts, you never even attempted getting over your feelings for him.

How could you, his hand was rough and warm, when he looked into your eyes, you were reminded of every reason you fell for him all at once.

“I can’t- I couldn’t”, your words fail you but Hiei waits patiently, deepening frown urging you to continue, “I couldn’t call you Hiei, you shouldn’t even be here.”

“What do you mean I can’t be here? I’ve been here a thousand times before and suddenly it’s a problem?!”

The tears you’d been desperately trying to keep at bay break through, it is with a watery and weak voice that you respond. “Hiei, Mukuro wouldn’t appreciate you being alone at my house so late.”

“The hell’s she got to do with it?!”, he yanked his hand off your chin, and you broke. Any semblance of maturity, pride, or dignity you had was completely gone now. If Hiei insisted on staying then he’d see the blubbering mess you were trying to hide. 

Hiei didn’t say anything, his usual callous nature pushed aside for a moment. At least you thought so, until you heard snickering coming from his direction.

“I don’t know what’s so funny Hiei.”, great, now you were pouting like a child. If he stayed any longer, maybe you’d throw a tantrum too. 

“Y/N really, I never took you for being this dumb.”

You opened your mouth to argue but you were caught off guard by Hiei taking your hands in his and sitting next to you. He laid his head in your lap, muttering about “stupid humans” and “isn’t it obvious”.

Together, you watched the sun rise and as the sun hit Hiei’s face you thought maybe, just maybe, Hiei could have feelings for you after all.

[sicparvismorrigan]

Big Fun

Sam helps you feel better after you lose your temper.

Uncharted/Sam Drake/Post-U4

Viewpoint: 1st person gender-neutral reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: ~2.6k [complete]

Okay, outing myself a little here in the hopes that it’ll be a comfort to at least one other person. This happens…more often than I would like. I’m working on it.

This came about because of a discussion with @writingawaymylife thanks Aerin!

Read on Ao3

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you shitting me!”

You finally lose what little patience you had left and punch the wall. Underneath the cheap wallpaper it’s solid concrete and you instantly regret your feral outburst. There’s a millisecond of nothing before the pain comes rushing in, and then you’re bent double, clutching the wrist of your injured hand with the other and groaning.

You try and flex your fingers to check if they’re broken, but you can’t really tell. It’s too late. Your hand is numb within the minute. Shit, that’s really going to hurt in the morning.

You’re clumsy anyway, it’s the way it’s always been and the way it always will be. You know what you need to do, how you need to move, but your body won’t respond how you want it to. You’re always dropping plates and glasses, smashing them to bits. Usually when you’re already running late, and then you have to waste more time by scurrying around looking for a dustpan to get rid of the evidence.

You’re forever bumping into things, stubbing your toes and taking layers of skin off your shoulders and shins when you walk straight into doorframes. When you try and pour things you spill them more often than not. Yet more mess to clean up, yet more time wasted.

Your fingers just won’t work sometimes, often so badly it takes you multiple attempts to tie your shoes. And when it’s cold you’re practically useless. You just give up and tuck the laces into the shoes, feeling them rub through your socks, promising yourself to fix them once you’re back in the warm, everything will work out as long as you don’t trip over your own feet before you get there.

It’s the most frustrating thing in the world. Normally you can shrug it off, you’re used to it by now. But things had been going wrong all day, even without your clumsiness, and matters just came to a head.

You remember exactly what caused you to erupt into expletives and punch the wall. It had already been a frustrating day, work was a pain in the ass, as usual. All of the most awkward customers in the world had decided to descend upon you right before your break. By the time you got home you were in a pretty foul mood. Too wound up to relax, you decided to take a load of laundry downstairs to put in the washer.

You attempted to, anyway. After trying and failing 3 times to pick up the same damn sock from the floor of your room that your fingers just would not grasp, you’d given up and kicked it away under the bed in anger. Oh sure, couldn’t pick it up but you managed to land a furious kick the first time around.

Though you were trying your best to manoeuvre around the doorframe with the pile of clothes you still bumped off it with your shoulder, muttering ouch as the latch scraped your arm. Then you overcompensated by moving too much in the other direction and stubbed your toe on the corner of the door. Instant pain that made you see red.

The pile of clothes in your arms were promptly thrown on the floor in a fit of rage. That was when you punched the wall. And now you’re a sorry state, fingers throbbing and face red, trying not to scream.

Oh shit, you hear Sam moving around in his room down the hall. There’s no way he didn’t hear you. Well, this is embarrassing. There isn’t time to pick everything up and hightail it down the stairs before he catches you, not with your mangled claw out of action.

You hear his door creak open. You slowly turn around and stare guiltily at your roommate as he pokes his head around the doorframe.

“I heard…” He takes in the sight of the pile of laundry scattered on the floor and you holding up your tingling hand, still hopping from foot to foot. “Jeez, again?”

***

Sam is your friend Elena’s brother-in-law, or something like that. You aren’t clear on how exactly they’re related, but you knew her from college, long before she got married. She heard you were looking for a new roommate a few months back, and she got in touch, telling you she knew just the person.

You baulked initially when you got a phone call from her after sparse contact over the last few years. You were actually enjoying living by yourself again, though money was a bit tighter. Your last roommate was pleasant enough at first, however they soon turned out to be a nightmare, it was a relief to get rid of them. But you liked Elena a lot, and you did owe her one or two favours. For some reason she thought you and Sam would hit it off.

And much to your surprise, you did. You were a bit nervous of him to begin with, but Sam turned out to be so laid back he was almost horizontal. The perfect foil to your occasionally manic energy. Living with him was easy, there weren’t any awkward silences. If you were in the same room but didn’t feel like talking, he was fine with it.

Your apartment was pretty basic but he seemed happy there with you. He even made you dinner sometimes when you’d had a tough day and you’d just come in and flop face down on the sofa. Sam would wordlessly stand up and then half an hour later come back through to get you with the same phrase every time. “You gonna eat something, or what?”

Elena had reassured you he probably wouldn’t even be there a lot of the time. He just needed somewhere to touch base every few weeks, she turned out to be correct.

You didn’t even really know what Sam did. He didn’t appear to have a job, he was almost always home during the day and seemed to spend a lot of time on your Playstation (“our Playstation” according to Sam). But he came up with his half of the rent every month and then disappeared again for a few weeks. You didn’t ask, not your business. You’d started to find the house too quiet and empty when he wasn’t there and you were always waiting to hear the keys in the lock and his joking “Honey, I’m home!” whenever he came back.

After moving in it didn’t take him long to pick up on your quirks, or notice that you were more accident-prone than the average person. It had led to the only argument you’d ever had with him.

One time while making dinner you’d dropped a plate and cursed yourself as it cracked in half on the tiled floor. You’d stared daggers at him, daring him to say a word about it. You totally weren’t expecting what he did next.

He’d just looked at you dead in the eyes as he pushed another plate off the counter. Exactly like a cat would.

You blew up at him. “What in the hell did you do that for? Now there’s twice as many sharp bits to clear up!”

“It’s just a plate.” He had shrugged, leaning back on the counter.

“What’s your damn point?”

“That it really doesn’t matter, and that I don’t care that we’ve had to replace pretty much everything in this kitchen since I moved in.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Not everything. You owe me a plate now.”

“You know, maybe we should invest in plastic ones.”

“We are adults Sam! And it’s not good for the environment.”

“And the current… situation is not good for your bank account!”

“Just because you’re used to plastic cutlery.” Kind of a cheap shot, but you’re still mad. You’d gathered he’d done jail time, but you didn’t dare ask what for, or how long. You caught him saying weird things sometimes and eventually realised it was because his concept of time was a little warped. He kept referring to the 90’s like it was only last week, instead of nearly 20 years ago.

Sam just laughed at your plastic cutlery comment, not at all offended. “Yeah, and I like living here so much I’m willing to do that if it means you’ll stop beating yourself up.”

“I’ll think about it.” You grumbled. But you got some plastic cups and plates on your way home from work the next day. Sam was right, it was a lot better, though it made you feel like a kid again.

As you’d gotten more comfortable with Sam you’d given up trying to hide the fact you were a walking health hazard and didn’t stifle your curses anymore.

At first he seemed amused by your clumsiness, he even laughed the first few times you did something stupid. But he quickly realised how upsetting your lack of control over your own limbs was for you, because it happened so damn often. He stopped making fun as soon as he noticed you couldn’t laugh it off with him. It wasn’t a joke to you. From then on he’d been surprisingly nice, he always attempted to make you feel better when it got too much.

***

Even so, right now as you were having a stand-off with him in the hallway, you gritted your teeth and tried to keep your voice even. Stay calm, he’s just concerned. “Yes, again.”

“What did it ever do to you? Y’know, standing there, being all wall-like…stopping our house from collapsing?”

“I lost my temper again. Punched the damn thing.”

He shook his head. “I’ve told you, you’ve got to look after those hands.”

“But they’re so fuc-“ You stop and sigh when he raises an eyebrow. Calm. “Flipping useless. I’m useless.”

“Not true.” Sam steps out of his room and walks in your direction. On the way he kicks a rogue sock back onto the main pile of mess on the floor. “Take that, you scoundrel.”

“I just wish my brain worked normally.”

“Your brain is fine. Your music taste on the other hand.” Sam moved his hand up and down in an ‘ehhhhhh’ motion and shook his head. “No no.”

He’s kidding, of course he is. Damn his sense of humour. But you don’t feel like smiling just yet. It still fucking hurts. “I think I broke something this time.” You really thumped the wall. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve actually done damage.

“You want me to check?”

“Please.”

You hold out your hand for him and he carefully wiggles and stretches your fingers one by one, watching your face for any reaction. You wince once he gets to your thumb. Oh, that one hurts the worst.

“No, thumb on the inside? For real?” Sam looked at you in disbelief.

“Apparently so.”

“That’ll learn you. That’s like rule number one of punching anything.”

You sigh. “Anything broken?”

“No, we’re all good. But keep your thumb on the outside next time or you really will break it.”

“Surprisingly, I wasn’t really focusing on technique that much. Oh hey, you should check this one again.” You hold your middle finger aloft.

“Very funny.” But he smirks at you, knowing he’s helping you feel better.

“Come on, you do that one to me all the time.”

“Learning from the best, what can I say? Oh, shit…” Sam’s staring past you.

“What, what’s wrong?” You glance back in the direction he’s looking.

Sam moves to the wall, right where you just punched and looks at you in faux-panic. “I need a medic!”

“Really?” You watch in amazement as he starts to do something to the wall which looks an awful lot like the chest compressions from CPR. Wow, he’s very committed to this bit.

“We’re losing them!”

“Sam, there’s barely a scuff on the wallpaper. I definitely came off worse.”

“I need a crash cart stat!” He yells at nobody in particular.

“Jesus Christ. You’ve been watching too many daytime medical dramas.” You just shake your head, but the corners of your mouth are threatening to twitch upwards.

“Have not…Beeeeeeeeeep! Aw, we lost them. RIP.” He finally steps away from the wall and shrugs. “I tried.”

“You’re such a goofball.” At least you’re smiling now.

“Hey, it worked didn’t it? Frown upside down.” He squeezes your shoulder. “You really did a number on that wall though, huh? I heard it all the way down there. Hell, I felt it. Made the stuff on the shelves rattle.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a bad day. A really bad day. People are assholes.” You glance down at the pile of laundry still littering the floor. “I should pick this up.”

“Do you have to right now?”

“Well, yeah…I was on the way downstairs to wash it.”

“I’m not sure the structural integrity of our house could take it if you had another…incident on the way to the washer. That wall’s concrete but you’re gonna end up going clean through one of the others. Then you’ll lose our security deposit.”

“My security deposit.”

“Right, right, right. That doesn’t mean you can punch holes wherever you like.”

“You could fix it though if I did?”

“Yeah, I guess. Y’know, I’ve never really asked you about it before, but talk me through it, what goes on in your head right before you flip out?”

“I don’t know, I just…see red and it happens before I can stop it.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s nodding. Bizarrely, he doesn’t look too freaked out to you admitting you pretty much go into berserker mode over minor inconveniences. “I know you can’t do anything about having 2 left feet, but you can do something about letting it get to you.”

“What, count to 10 or something?” You ask, mocking. Like you haven’t heard that one before.

“Yeah, seriously.” You get the impression he’s talking from experience. “It works, don’t question it.”

Screw it, he’s being really nice. At least he understands it’s not because you’re an idiot, it’s because your brain isn’t wired like most peoples. And he was right about the plastic plates. “Alright. I’ll try.”

“And you come tell me if this thing pisses you off again, I’ll deal with it.” Sam shakes his fist at the wall. He really is an idiot sometimes. But he does make you laugh. He’s your idiot.

“Gotcha.” You give him a thumbs-up with both hands, wincing again, the movement hurts.

He gives you a sly look. “How about you flex those fingers, and we play a game awhile. Crash Bandicoot maybe?”

“Again? I’ve got loads to do….” You fidget anxiously. you know what he’s up to though. Trying to get you to chill out.

“Just for a little bit. Scared I’ll beat ya?”

“Pffft, not even close, but I’m at a disadvantage this time.” There’s still no way he can win.

“I resent that, I’m getting pretty good.”

“You just mash the buttons.” It’s a fact and he knows it.

“C’mon, c’mon. I gotta at least beat your high score before I have to leave again.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I’m in. Let’s go!” You nod in the direction of the stairs.

“Loser deals with that later on.” He points at the abandoned pile of laundry on the floor.

“Deal, don’t go easy on me.” You step around it and follow him to the sitting room. Even with a crippled hand you’re pretty sure you can thrash him. “Elena and I used to play this in college, wonder if she still has it…”

***

Thank you for reading!

Yeah…I am not just clumsy, I am more like ‘danger to myself and others’ levels of uncoordinated. But I can’t be the only one! Don’t worry, Sam’s got your back ;) Also the title is the song Big Fun from Heathers the Musical because once again it has invaded my life. The whole soundtrack has been on a loop for days now. I LOVE IT. Punch the wall and start a fight!

- Sam Drake and Elena Fisher belong to Naughty Dog/the Uncharted creative team and I (sadly) take no ownership of them.

- This work is not for profit though it belongs to me and I must be credited when copying or reposting elsewhere

- As mentioned before reader is intended to be gender-neutral so please interpret this fic however you like. This is my first x Reader fic published and first g/n reader viewpoint I’ve attempted so I hope I did okay. I myself identify as mostly female so that’s what I normally write because it’s easier for me to connect with. But this was fun.