#despite how he might want to strange his friends at times from how often they butt heads when bored | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

khioneee · 4 months ago

Text

ORGAN THIEF

synopsis. you tell yourself caleb was never yours to have, so you let zayne get close. until caleb decides he doesn’t like to share. warnings. jealousy. mentions of violence. angst. pairings. caleb x reader (x zayne) word count. 7k. an. felt like crying tbh. might edit later.

when you were young, there was no such thing as distance between you and caleb.

you were always together, moving through life side by side, never questioning it. there were scraped knees from racing down the street, grass stains from summers spent lying in the backyard, and lazy afternoons where he let you steal food from his plate without complaint. nights meant whispered conversations under blanket forts, his voice always the last thing you heard before sleep took you.

you grew up together, side by side, pulling each other out of the awkwardness of childhood, shedding timidity like second skin.

caleb and y/n, y/n and caleb.

here’s y/n.

here’s caleb.

here's a bond that no one else quite understands.

your love for caleb hasn’t changed, but it’s grown into something you didn’t understand. can’t understand. not yet.

but caleb has grown. taller, sharper, still careless with his hair, but just as hopeless at tying his tie in the morning. there’s a natural ease to him now, a quiet confidence that draws people in without effort. he doesn’t just enter a room, he shifts the atmosphere, commanding attention without needing to say a word.

you hear the way the girls in the hallways whisper about him, their voices hushed but excited, their eyes lighting up when he so much as glances in their direction. he’s the kind of person people gravitate toward, like planets drawn to the pull of the sun.

kind. athletic. smart. golden.

the one who remembers names, who helps the new kid find their classes, who scores the winning shot and shrugs like it was never in question.

when caleb talks to people, he makes them feel important, like they’re the only one in the room, like whatever they’re saying is the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. he finds beauty in everything, in everyone, and in return, people can’t help but see the same in him. they admire him, look up to him, want to be close to him.

but they also fear him.

they don’t realize it at first. not until they get too close to you.

at first, you didn’t think much of it.

the way conversations with guys ended abruptly, how some hesitated before sitting next to you, or how your lab partner, who had been openly flirting with you just the day before, suddenly kept his distance. his easy confidence had dulled overnight, his laughter forced, his eyes avoiding yours.

maybe it was just a coincidence, a strange pattern you convinced yourself wasn’t worth questioning. but then it started happening more often. the brief glances, the quiet goodbyes, the way some of caleb’s teammates barely acknowledged you despite knowing that you were close.

still, you never questioned it. because, in the end, it never really bothered you.

caleb had always been like that.

like how he insisted you wear his jersey at his games. the first time, he tossed it at you casually, like it was an afterthought. ‘now they’ll all know exactly who you’re watching.’

you rolled your eyes but pulled it on anyway, ignoring how it smelled faintly of his cologne and sweat. after that, it became a habit. if you ever showed up without it, he’d pull it from his bag and toss it over. no words, no discussion.

or how he always left his jacket with you when you were cold. it didn’t matter if you insisted you were fine. if he caught you rubbing your arms or tucking your hands into your sleeves, his jacket would be around your shoulders before you could protest. warm, a little too big, and never once did he ask for it back.

if you returned it to his room later, he’d only shrug like he hadn’t expected it back in the first place.

and then there were the small things. how he always found a way to sit next to you, even when his friends were at another table. how he would drop by your class between periods, casually placing a snack on your desk before walking off without a word. he never explained why, and you never asked.

maybe you should have questioned it more.

but the thing that stood out the most was that caleb never introduced you as his sister.

it would’ve been the easiest thing to say. it would have explained the connection, the way you were always around each other, how naturally you fit into his life. but he never said it. not once.

until people noticed.

one day, after a game, one of his teammates finally asked.

‘so, she’s your sister, huh?’ the guy grinned, nudging caleb in the ribs.

caleb didn’t respond immediately, just looked at him, unreadable.

the guy smirked, pushing further. ‘should i start calling you brother-in-law, then?’

you expected caleb to laugh it off, maybe roll his eyes or shove the guy off like he usually would. but he didn’t. his response was smooth, controlled, and too even.

‘she’s off-limits.’

there was no room for argument.

his teammate hesitated, raising his hands in mock surrender before forcing out a laugh. ‘damn, man. didn’t know it was like that.’

you didn’t think much of it.

not until a few days later, when that same teammate got injured at practice.

a bad fall, they said.

a collision that left him with a bruised eye and a limp that lasted over a week.

accidents happen all the time in sports. it was easy to write it off as bad luck.

but when you glanced at caleb, standing on the sidelines, unbothered, indifferent with bruises along his knuckles, you felt something shift in your stomach.

maybe you should have been mad. maybe you should have confronted him, called him out, demanded an explanation.

not because it was unfair.

not because it was wrong.

but because you liked it too much.

you liked the way caleb made it impossible for anyone else to get too close. the way his hand lingered at the small of your back when he guided you through a crowded hallway. the way he always waited for you after school, even when you had nothing planned.

the way he looked at you sometimes. like there was something simmering beneath the surface, something unspoken and dangerous and impossible.

and that was the problem.

because he wasn’t yours.

because he was supposed to be your best friend.your family. the one person you shouldn’t want.

you understood now. the love you had for him has grown to fill the spaces you didn’t have when you were a child. it’s grown into longing and desire and jealousy, something so fucking powerful and essential that there isn’t a piece of you that doesn’t love him.

so you did the only thing you could think of.

you avoided him.

at first, caleb let it slide, pretending not to notice the way you pulled away. he let you ignore him in the hallways, let you skip out on lunches, let you slip past him at home without so much as a glance. maybe he thought you just needed space, that whatever was wrong would work itself out on its own.

but after a few weeks, the cracks started to show. he stopped lingering after class, stopped waiting for you outside your door, stopped trying to pull you back into his orbit. the easy confidence he carried dulled, his smirks a little less sharp, his presence not as loud. he wasn’t himself, and he knew it.

then, one day, he cornered you after the last period.

the hallway had mostly emptied, students filtering out in groups, their voices fading into the distance. but caleb wasn’t moving. he stood in front of you, arms crossed, blocking your path, his amethyst eyes sharp and unwavering.

‘you’re avoiding me.’

it wasn’t a question.

your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. ‘i’m not.’

his jaw clenched, his expression unreadable. ‘bullshit.’

you exhaled slowly, willing your voice to stay steady. ‘i’ve just been busy.’

he scoffed, shaking his head. ‘right. too busy to come out of your room? too busy to even lok at me? we live in the same house, y/n. you don’t just disappear on me.’

you swallowed, opening your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. caleb ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, frustration radiating off of him.

‘so you win. whatever it is i did, i’m sorry. now will you please fucking forgive me and put us both out of our misery?’

the words hit harder than you expected. he thought this was about him. he thought he had done something wrong. and worst of all, he looked miserable. bruises under his eyes, the tell–tale signs of too little sleep. heartbreak seeping through the sunshine boy's skin and weaving its way through his veins and making rivers.

the weight of it crashed into you all at once, the lump in your throat impossible to swallow. before you could stop it, your vision blurred.

caleb’s face shifted the moment he saw the tears, his frustration dissolving into something softer.

his shoulders relaxed, his hands twitching at his sides before he finally reached for you, pulling you in without hesitation. his warmth wrapped around you, solid and steady, his breath slow against your hair. his fingers found their way to your hip, his lips pressing lightly against your forehead, his presence sinking into you in a way that felt painfully familiar.

and you didn’t resist.

because despite everything, despite the space you had tried to put between you, despite how complicated things had become, caleb still felt safe.

so you pressed into his touch, letting yourself breathe him in, letting yourself forget, just for a moment, that you had ever tried to let him go.

friends, friends, friends.

he held you close, his voice rough with emotion. ‘i’m sorry, pipsqueak,’ he muttered against your hair. ‘whatever i did or said, i’m sorry, okay?’

you didn’t answer.

you couldn’t.

because the truth was—

you were the one who needed to apologize.

because this was never about him.

it was about you.

and the fact that no matter how hard you tried, you could never, ever stop wanting him.

too much, too much. you wanted caleb too much, want too much always, but you are not together and you had to accept that.

caleb’s pinky locked into yours. you weren’t sure if it’s another apology or a source of comfort you need in your state, or just plain habit, but he’s touching you (friends, friends, friends) and that’s all you really need to know.

because despite everything, caleb still felt like home.

but home didn’t last.

caleb starts staying out late.

at first, it’s nothing. just a few nights out, a way to kill time.

you hear about it through his teammates, offhand mentions from gran when she asks if he’s home yet. It doesn’t bother you.

caleb has always been social, always had people orbiting around him, always found ways to fill the spaces in his life.

but then it becomes a habit. the late nights turn into early mornings, his weekends disappear into parties, and soon enough, it feels like he’s never home. he moves through the house like a ghost, slipping in while everyone else is asleep and leaving before anyone notices.

and you notice.

you notice the way he comes back smelling like perfume that isn’t his, how his lips are redder than before, how his amethyst eyes seem heavier, dimmer, weighed down by something you don’t recognize. you see the kiss stains on his neck, the scratches down his back.

you wish they hurt. you wish you left them there.

you don’t avoid him, not entirely, but you don’t talk to him the same way. your words are clipped, your tone indifferent. you stop waiting for him after school, stop lingering in doorways to say goodnight, stop reaching for him first.

when he nudges your shoulder, slings an arm around you, tugs on your sleeve like he always does, you pull away before he can get too close.

and caleb notices.

at first, he brushes it off, shrugs like it doesn’t matter. he teases you the way he always does, pokes and prods, waiting for you to roll your eyes and shove him back. but the space between you keeps growing, stretching into something neither of you know how to name.

he stays out later. comes home smelling stronger, marked up worse, his voice hoarse in the mornings like he’s been screaming into the night. he looks at you, waiting for a reaction.

but you don’t give him one.

and for the first time in your life, caleb stops trying.

the sky was falling weeks later when the door of your own room opens. blinking sleepily, you leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. he swayed against the wall, there is purple and green pressed all over his skin.

it’s caleb, whose lips are swollen again.

it’s late. too late.

the smell of beer clings to him, mixed with something sweeter. something that isn’t his.

his hoodie is loose, his hair messy, his steps uneven as he leans against your doorframe, eyes heavy-lidded but sharp as they land on you.

‘you mad at me, pipsqueak?’ his voice is lower than usual, playful, teasing, but there’s something behind it. something that isn’t entirely a joke.

your lamp lit up the dark bruise on his neck in a ghastly light. you could still see the fingertips, could feel the ghost of them pressing into his skin. friends.

your hand goes white–knuckled, gripping into the sheets. ‘go to bed, caleb.’

‘i’ll sleep in your bed,’ he mutters, like it’s obvious. like it’s true. like you’ll agree without doubt.

you exhale, shaking your head. ‘you’re drunk.’

‘and?’ he counters, stepping into your space, his smirk faltering just slightly. ‘you say that like it changes anything.’

you don’t answer.

because maybe it doesn’t.

he peeled off his hoodie without a word. there are red fingernail marks on the ridge of his spine and bruises on his hips, signs from the girl with perfume you smelled on him last night, the girl who gets to touch caleb in the places you can’t.

he watches you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to figure something out. and then, finally—

‘i don’t get it.’ his voice is quieter now, more serious. ‘what did i do?’

you settled back against the bed. ‘nothing.’

‘bullshit.’ he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. ‘you’ve barely looked at me in weeks, y/n. you don’t wait for me anymore. you barely talk to me. and every time i try to touch you, you act like it makes you sick.’ his jaw clenches. ‘so tell me. what the hell did i do?’

you should lie. you should push him away. you should say something sharp, something final, something that makes him leave.

but you don’t.

and caleb, drunk and tired and hurting, sees right through you.

when he reached your fingers, he thread them between your own, collecting all the pieces of your conscience and disappearing without a trace, all remnants of your soul in hand.

his expression shifts, something softer flickering across his face. and then—

his fingers graze your cheek, barely there, like he’s testing the distance between you. the touch is slow, hesitant, deliberate. like he knows he shouldn’t, but he’s never been the type to stop himself when it comes to you.

his hand moves to your hair, tucking it behind your ear with practiced ease, like it’s something second nature, like he’s done it so many times before that he doesn’t even have to think about it.

his thumb lingers, brushing over your cheek, tracing the frustration etched into your skin. it’s warm, careful, almost apologetic. like he’s trying to smooth out the anger, the hurt, the weight of everything unspoken between you.

then, softer than you’ve ever heard him, he murmurs, ‘how can i sleep if my favorite girl is mad at me?’

and when you look at him, really look at him, your breath stumbles in your chest. he knew how to do it. how to make you feel like the sun rises in his veins only for you.

because caleb doesn’t just sound tired. he looks it.

the dim light casts hollows into his features, emphasizing the exhaustion settling deep in his bones. his eyes, usually sharp and full of mischief, are duller now, heavier, shadowed by something that feels dangerously close to regret. there’s no cocky grin, no teasing glint.

just quiet, aching exhaustion.

for the first time, caleb looks small. like the saddest man on earth, like he’s holding onto something he doesn’t know how to fix.

you couldn't help but think of the amount of stars that had fallen with every step he took with a frown.

and it wrecks you.

you wanted to hold him, but you knew you’ll be left with burned fingertips and calloused heart.

because he smells like beer and someone else’s perfume. because there are scratches on his back that weren’t made by your hands. because he has no right to touch you this softly after spending his nights with people who don’t know him the way you do.

because no matter how much you wish you didn’t care. you do.

and so, despite everything, despite the weight pressing against your ribs, despite knowing you shouldn’t. out control, out of control, out of—

you kiss him.

for a tense, breathless second, he didn’t move.

his body stiff, frozen, caught somewhere between hesitation and something else entirely.

and then, you felt it.

his hands sliding up, fingers threading into your hair, gripping tight.

and then for a second. just a second. he kisses you back.

it’s desperate, reckless, a collision of everything you’ve been holding back. his lips taste like beer, and you don’t care. your fingers grip his hair, pulling him closer.

his lips crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless.

a quiet moan escaped you, swallowed by the heat of him, by the way his hands moved down, gripping, pulling, like he couldn’t bear the space between you.

then, he tore himself away from you. friends.

tepping back so fast it felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. the warmth of his mouth, his hands, his presence, gone in an instant, leaving behind nothing but the sharp contrast of cold in his absence.

your eyes snapped open, breath uneven, pulse hammering as you stared at him, trying to make sense of what had just happened. caleb stood right in front of you, his chest rising and falling too quickly, his disheveled hair messier than before, his lips still swollen from the kiss. his amethyst eyes were dark, unreadable, but something about them made your stomach twist.

because he knew.

he knew what this kiss meant. he knew what you felt, what you had been too afraid to say. he knew you had shattered whatever fragile barrier had been keeping this moment at bay. he knew.

and yet, he smiled.

not the kind that comforted, not the kind that softened his sharp edges. this one was different. it was hollow, something cold curling at the edges, something sharp enough to cut through you with ease.

‘had enough practice?’

his voice was light, almost amused, as if the kiss had been nothing at all, as if it hadn’t just unraveled you completely. you could only stare, frozen in place, his words slicing through you before you even had the chance to process them.

and you took it for what it was, a dagger to the heart.

then, with careful, deliberate movements, he stepped back, putting more space between you, widening a distance that already felt impossible to cross. his hand raked through his hair, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no real amusement in it.

‘if you just wanted to get your first kiss over with, you could’ve told me.’ the words were effortless, thrown out like they meant nothing, but there was something in the way his voice faltered at the end that made your stomach drop. his gaze flickered over you for a second, lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, wasn’t quite anything at all. ‘guess now you’re ready for the real thing with whoever you actually want.’

your mouth opened, but no words came out.

it didn’t matter. caleb didn’t wait for a response. he exhaled sharply, his eyes lingering for a beat too long before he turned away. there was no hesitation in his steps, no second glance, nothing to suggest that this moment had shaken him the way it had shaken you.

and then, just like that, he was gone.

he doesn't think, doesn't wait, doesn't want.

he just leaves.

disappearing into the dark, leaving you standing there, cold, alone, and regretting everything.

and maybe that was the moment you lost him.

y/n and caleb, and it's hard to tell where one end and the other begins. there probably isn't a difference, and trying to draw the line would doom the both of you.

this time, caleb starts avoiding you.

and this time, you know exactly why.

it’s different now. worse. because he doesn’t just disappear at school. he disappears at home, too.

you hear him tell gran he has practice when you know he doesn’t. you catch glimpses of him slipping out late at night, hood up, car keys dangling from his fingers. when he comes back, it’s always late, long after the house has gone quiet.

you pretend not to hear the front door creak open, the careful shuffle of his footsteps down the hall, the way he pauses outside your door for just a second before moving on.

he doesn’t look at you.

not in the morning when you pass each other in the kitchen, not when you sit at opposite ends of the dinner table, not when gran asks him a question and he answers without ever acknowledging the weight of your silence. the air between you is thick, heavy with everything unspoken, but neither of you say a word.

at school, it’s even worse.

you used to know exactly where to find him: leaning against his locker, sprawled across the lunch table, laughing too loudly, always moving, always there. but now, he’s everywhere except near you.

and when you do see him, it’s only for a second. a glance across the hallway before he looks away. a flicker of amethyst eyes lost in a crowd. an almost-moment before he disappears again, slipping into someone else’s world, somewhere you don’t belong.

you should’ve expected this. you should’ve known that kiss, your first kiss, would wreck everything.

but somehow, it still hurts.

and what’s worse, what makes your stomach twist, what makes your skin feel too tight and your throat close up, is that you hate yourself for it.

you hate yourself for wanting it.

for wanting him.

you feel disgusted when you think about it, about how easily you caved, about how much you liked it, about the way his hands felt on your skin, his lips against yours. you hate that even now, when you close your eyes, you can still feel it, still want it, still crave the weight of him against you like a sickness you don’t know how to cure.

so you do what you can. you push forward. you stop waiting.

and that was when you met him.

it started with a name, called out in class like it meant nothing.

‘zayne and y/n.’

your biology teacher paired you together for a semester-long project, and you hadn’t expected anything from it. zayne wasn’t someone you had paid much attention to before, and when he pulled out the chair beside you, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness, just quiet acceptance.

‘looks like we’re partners.’ his tone was even, uninterested, like he was already calculating how much effort this would require.

‘looks like it.’you mirrored his indifference, expecting nothing more than a few study sessions and a forgettable final grade.

but it wasn’t just another assignment.

zayne wasn’t like caleb.

he didn’t overthink his place beside you, didn’t steal glances to gauge what others might think. he wasn’t loud, wasn’t overbearing, didn’t fill the silence with pointless conversation just to make his presence known. he was steady, self-contained, comfortable in the quiet. after weeks of feeling like you were walking on eggshells, that steadiness ws a relief.

at first, your time together was purely academic.

library meetings that were structured and efficient, an easy rhythm of work that never strayed beyond the boundaries of your project. but then, something changed. lunches became routine, neither of you discussing it but always sitting at the same table. walks to class happened naturally, steps falling in sync without effort. conversations stretched beyond assignments and deadlines, carrying into late-night messages about things that had nothing to do with school.

zayne told you about his love for the winter, and how he would sneak out during the first snow fall. you told him about the time you and caleb got caught sneaking out, how caleb had talked his way out of trouble while you stood there panicking.

unlike caleb, zayne didn’t tease, didn’t turn your stories into jokes at your expense. he just listened, nodded like he was actually picturing it.

too kind, too understanding, too much of exactly what you needed.

somewhere along the way, you became friends. and soon, you were always together.

dinners with gran started to change. it used to be the three of you. gran, caleb, and you.

but caleb started skipping them, claiming he was busy, always finding somewhere else to be, never home long enough for it to feel like anything but an excuse.

zayne, on the other hand, filled the space caleb left behind.

it started as a casual invitation.

gran insisting he stay after studying, reassuring him there was more than enough food. he had accepted without fuss, without hesitation, and from that night on, his place at the table never felt out of place. gran told stories you had heard a thousand times before, and zayne listened to every one of them, nodding along, asking questions like he hadn’t already picked up on the details from you.

he wasn’t a replacement for caleb.

but he was something constant.

then one afternoon, you and zayne crossed paths with caleb in the hallway.

there was no tension, no hesitation, no moment of discomfort where zayne second-guessed himself. he just looked at caleb, gave a simple nod in acknowledgment, and kept walking, like it was nothing.

like caleb was no one special.

like he wasn’t even worth a second thought.

caleb didn’t say anything. he just stood there, watching.

but you knew that wasn’t the end of it.

and you were right.

the moment the wrong boy fell in love with you. and you wished he could pull out your heart, and make him see that you fell in love with the wrong boy too.

that was why you were here, standing in the biting cold, surrounded by barren fields of frost, with zayne’s rare laughter curling into the air like something warm, something that was meant to feel safe. that was why you let him get close, why you let yourself believe, even for a moment, that this could be enough.

you shouldn’t have been thinking about caleb.

so you focused on the wrong boy instead.

on the way his voice carried in the quiet, on how he walked beside you without hesitation, how his presence didn’t ask for anything more than what you were willing to give. he wasn’t waiting for you to figure things out, wasn’t demanding answers you didn’t have. he was just there. steady. certain.

maybe that was what love was supposed to feel like when you didn’t want it. something easy, something quiet, something that didn’t threaten to tear you apart.

but it still didn’t fit right in your chest.

‘we’re here.’

zayne’s voice pulled you back, his excitement evident in his eyes as he gestured toward the sled he had set up.

you blinked at it, then at him. ‘are you serious?’

he grinned, brushing the snow off the seat before tossing his scarf around your shoulders, adjusting it with careful hands. the fabric was thick and slightly uneven, the pattern something you wouldn’t have picked for yourself, but it was warm, and it smelled like him.

you raised an eyebrow, eyeing the details.

‘gran taught me how to knit,’ he admitted, a flicker of amusement in his expression.

your fingers traced the edges of the scarf as you exhaled. ‘it’s nice.’

and it was.

you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry over how endearing it was, how easily he gave things to you, how much he seemed to mean it. he could have handed you anything, and you would have taken it, because this. this moment, this feeling. was already too much.

then, without a word, he just looked at you.

not a passing glance. not a fleeting moment of consideration.

zayne never did things halfway.

when he looked at you, he made sure you knew.

his hazel eyes were bright despite the winter gray, his expression unreadable but not indifferent. there was something certain about the way he watched you, something steady in the way his gaze settled, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

like he took in every detail.

the way the cold had flushed your cheeks, the way your breath curled into the air, the way the weight of the moment made your fingers tremble against the scarf.

‘is there something on my face?’ you asked, startled by the intensity in his stare.

he shook his head, his gaze flickering slightly before settling again. ‘i wish i had more time with you.’

the words were quiet, simple, but the weight of them landed hard.

you swallowed, pulse stuttering, because there was something in the way he said it that made your chest ache. he didn’t say it like a passing thought, didn’t say it like he was reaching for something just out of grasp. he said it like he knew.

like he already understood that whatever this was, whatever you were, had an expiration date.

his eyes dropped, just for a second, barely noticeable, but enough.

enough to know what he was thinking.

enough to know that if you leaned in, he wouldn’t stop you.

and for a fleeting moment, you wanted to.

not because it was right. not because it was real.

but because you needed to forget.

you needed something to press over the ache in your chest, something to drown out the weight of caleb’s absence, the sound of his voice in your head, the way he had always, always been there. until he wasn’t.

but you didn’t.

because it would have been a lie.

‘gran, we’ve talked about this—‘

caleb’s voice cut through the air, sharp with frustration, breaking the moment before it had the chance to solidify into something real.

‘no, you talked. an aviation school halfway across the country? when there are good ones right here? what’s wrong with being close to home?’

the front door creaked open, and as if time couldn’t be any crueler, gran and caleb stepped outside.

his presence was immediate, impossible to ignore.

caleb had always carried himself like he belonged in any space he occupied, but now, standing in the cold with the weight of an argument still lingering between him and gran, he felt like something distant. something storming just beneath the surface, unreadable and untouchable.

zayne sighed, shifting beside you, but you barely noticed.

because while he was looking at you, you were looking at caleb.

your stomach twisted, the weight in your chest pressing down harder, suffocating in a way you didn’t understand.

‘and i know it’s far. i know it’s hard. but it’s not about running away.’ caleb’s voice was firm, steady, like he had already made up his mind. he barely hesitated before adding, ‘this is what’s best for me. for all of us.’

and just like that, it was over.

he turned before anyone could argue, before you could even process what he had said, stepping back into the warmth of the house.

the door clicked shut behind him, and somehow, that sound felt louder than anything else.

you don't know what's love and what's hate now. if there is a difference between the two of you, y/n and caleb, here.

later that evening, you fell.

it was late, exhaustion pulling at your limbs as you trudged up the stairs, arms full of books. zayne followed a few steps behind, his pace unhurried, hands tucked into his pockets as he listened to you yap.

you were mid-sentence, distracted by the conversation, too focused on the warmth of another presence at your side to notice the uneven step beneath your feet.

your toe caught the edge, and before you could react, your balance shifted forward. books tilted dangerously in your grasp before slipping from your fingers as gravity pulled you down. your stomach lurched, breath catching in your throat—

but you never hit the ground.

zayne’s hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, his other pressing against your waist with steady ease. his grip was strong, grounding, keeping you upright before you even had the chance to panic. your breathing was uneven, heart hammering from the sudden shock, your body tensed from the lingering adrenaline.

for a moment, neither of you moved.

his fingers still pressed against your skin, his touch neither hurried or hesitant. . he had caught you, steadied you, and yet he didn’t let go.

you became painfully aware of the way his chest hovered just inches from yours, the warmth of his palm burning through your shirt.

when you looked up at him, his expression was unreadable. calm, composed, but something else lingered beneath the surface. he wasn’t just looking at you. he was waiting.

waiting for you to move. waiting for you to step back. waiting for your permission.

and that was what made your pulse stutter.

it’s too much and it’s never enough.

you should have pulled away. should have created space. should have let the moment pass as nothing more than a near fall. but you didn’t.

because then, his gaze flickered. just slightly, just for a second. before his eyes dropped to your lips.

your breath hitched, and before you could process what was happening, a voice shattered the moment.

‘y/n? zayne?’

gran’s voice, light, amused, pulling you back to reality.

and then—

‘what the fuck?’

caleb.

your entire body locked up, tension snapping through your muscles as your head turned toward the sound.

he stood at the end of the hall, unmoving, his eyes dark, expression unreadable. his jaw clenched, the muscle ticking, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides.

he wasn’t just watching. he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to.

zayne, still close, exhaled a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, as if this was nothing, as if caleb wasn’t standing there barely a few feet away. gran smirked, clearly entertained by whatever she thought was happening.

caleb did not.

he didn’t speak, didn’t demand an explanation, didn’t so much as glance in your direction. he just turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing down the hall without another word.

and somehow, that was worse.

dinner was slow, thick with something unspoken, the weight of the evening settling over the table like a fog.

gran, as oblivious as ever, carried the conversation, her voice the only thing filling the silence. ‘he’s going to be a doctor, y/n,’ she said, beaming like it was something worth celebrating.

zayne gave a polite shake of his head, still eating, still composed, his presence unwavering despite the obvious tension in the room. ‘still got a long way to go.’

but the real shift came when caleb sat down.

for the first time in weeks, he joined dinner.

he didn’t make an excuse, didn’t disappear before the plates hit the table, didn’t claim to have somewhere else to be.

he was here. silent, stiff, but here.

his fork scraped against his plate, but he barely ate. his shoulders were tense, his fingers gripping the edge of the table just a little too tightly. he answered when spoken to, voice clipped, his eyes fixed on his food, refusing to meet yours.

zayne, on the other hand, didn’t react. he carried himself with the same quiet steadiness as always, like nothing had changed, like caleb’s presence, or his anger, meant nothing to him. he didn’t fidget, didn’t acknowledge the storm brewing across the table, didn’t shift under the weight of caleb’s unspoken frustration.

and that made it worse.

but you noticed.

caleb was stiff, his usual relaxed posture replaced with something rigid, something tense. his grip on his fork was just a little too tight, his knuckles flexing under the strain. he barely touched his food, answering gran’s questions with clipped responses, his voice measured, controlled.

through it all, he never once looked at you.

your stomach twisted, the weight of his silence pressing down on you more than any harsh words ever could. it wasn’t like caleb to hold back, it wasn't like him to sit in the same room as you and act as if you didn’t exist. but tonight, he was locked in his own storm, letting it brew under the surface, making sure you felt it, even if he refused to acknowledge you.

then, after zayne left, gran turned to caleb, her gaze slow and assessing, studying him the way only she could. she took a sip of her tea, setting the cup down with a quiet clink before speaking, her tone light but deliberate.

‘zayne is a good boy, but whether he’s good enough for you...’ she let the words linger just long enough to make them feel heavier before tilting her head toward caleb, watching for a reaction. ‘what do you think, caleb?’

the shift in him was subtle.

a slight tightening of his jaw, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression, the barely-there twitch of his fingers against the table. you barely had time to process it before he moved, smooth and purposefully, his arm slipping around your shoulders like it belonged there.

his grip was warm, steady, and possessive.

‘i think,’ he said, his voice softer than usual, the perfect balance of ease and sincerity, ‘as long as pipsqueak’s happy, then i’m happy too.’

the words were convincing.

to anyone else, they would have sounded effortless, genuine even. but you knew him. you knew the calm in his voice when he was anything but. you knew the way he smiled when he wanted to bite back something sharper. you knew the restraint in his touch, the tension running just beneath the surface.

and right now, caleb wasn’t just mad.

he was furious.

furious that you had kept something from him. furious that you had let someone else too close. furious that, for the first time, there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

later that night, when you knock on his door, he opens it immediately, like he had been waiting.

the hallway is dim, the only light spilling from his room, casting sharp shadows across his face. the space between you feels suffocating, thick with something unspoken, something heavy you aren’t ready to name.

his expression is unreadable, his face carefully blank, but you see it anyway.

the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip tightens around the doorknob, the barely restrained control in the way he stands, like he’s holding himself back.

your pulse thrums in your throat as you force the words out. ‘did you mean it?’

caleb doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, his silence stretching unbearably between you.

you swallow hard, pushing forward even as your stomach twists. ‘as long as i’m happy?’

a second passes, then another. his jaw tightens, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he finally answers.

‘no.’

the word lands between you like a blow. it should make things clearer, should make it easier to understand, but instead, it only makes everything worse.

you shift on your feet, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs, but caleb just watches you, his amethyst eyes locked onto yours in a way that makes it impossible to breathe.

‘then why are you acting like this?’

there's a crack in his surface, his electric electric eyes gleaming in undetectable, hidden message. his expression was a clear indication to what he felt.he wasn't ready to hear that.

his exhale is slow, controlled, measured, but there’s something beneath it, somehing restrained. and then, just as carefully, he says it.

‘get rid of him.’

the command slices through the air, sharp and undeniable, like a final puzzle piece snapping into place. your stomach drops at the certainty in his voice, at the quiet weight behind his words.

‘i-i can’t.’ the response comes out weak, barely more than a whisper, but it’s the only thing you can give him.

something in caleb shifts instantly. his body tenses, his expression sharpening as his focus narrows completely onto you. his movements are deliberate, controlled, like he’s making a conscious effort not to move too fast, not to let whatever he’s feeling slip past the careful edges of his restraint.

‘what do you mean you can’t?’ his voice is low, steady, but there’s an edge to it, a dangerous thread of something unraveling just beneath the surface.

you look away, knowing that whatever comes next will change everything. ‘i don’t want to hurt him.’

the silence that follows is heavier than anything he could have said.

his lips press into a thin line, his shoulders squaring as the warmth in his eyes fades into something colder, something unreadable. his posture doesn’t change, but the shift in the air between you is unmistakable.

‘so you’d rather hurt me?’

the words hit you harder than they should. you weren’t prepared for them, weren’t expecting the weight they carried, the way they landed with a finality that made your chest ache.

your throat tightens, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say, don’t know how to fix whatever just cracked open between you. but caleb doesn’t look away, doesn’t take it back, doesn’t even flinch as the meaning behind his own words settles over him.

his gaze flickers, the muscle in his jaw tightening before he exhales sharply, like he’s regretting letting you see this part of him.

‘are you saying… you’re jealous?’ the words feel too fragile, too uncertain, but they leave your lips before you can stop them.

for a moment, he doesn’t move.

doesn’t breathe.

you expect him to deny it, to roll his eyes, to throw some dismissive remark at you like he always does. you expect him to do what he’s best at, pretend it doesn’t matter.

but he doesn’t.

he just watches you, his silence heavier than any answer he could have given. and then—slowly, carefully—he smirks.

‘if you want me to say i’m jealous, i will.’

his voice is smooth, effortless, light in a way that only makes your stomach twist. it should be reassuring, should make this moment feel less like a breaking point, but it doesn’t.

because it’s too easy. too casual.

like he’s still pretending.

like he’s still keeping you at a distance.

your fingers curl into fists at your sides as the frustration rises, your voice barely more than a murmur. ‘you could have just lied.’

caleb exhales sharply, tilting his head slightly, and then he moves.

too close. you're too close together for just friends.

your back presses against the wall before you even realize you’ve stepped back. his presence is everywhere, surrounding you, his warmth pulling you in even when you know you should push him away.

and then his hands are on your face, fingers cupping your jaw, steady and warm, grounding in a way that makes it impossible to think.

your pulse jumps, a sharp inhale catching in your throat as his amethyst eyes lock onto yours, the distance between you disappearing entirely. there’s no teasing in his gaze this time, no smirk, no sarcasm.

just heat.

just certainty.

his thumb brushes against your cheek, slow, deliberate, like he’s memorizing the feel of you, like he needs to. and then, his voice drops lower, softer, barely above a whisper.

‘i am jealous, baby.’

a pause.

a beat of silence so heavy you can feel it in your ribs.

his fingers tighten just slightly, his grip firm but careful, like he’s making sure you don’t move, like he doesn’t want you to look away.

you're trying to not cry now but you missed everything you never had.

and then—

‘more than you think possible.’

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lilyinmysoul · 2 months ago

Text

But Not Kiss

PervDBF!Joel X FReader

Summary: Drabble about Joel jerking off to his friend’s daughter’s pictures.

Notes: Joel and reader do not interact at all, Joel is a parasocial pervert and incredibly lonely, by lonely I mean he hasn’t been touched by a woman in years, age gap, reader is fresh out of college, masturbation (m), palming, can be considered dark!joel, no outbreak, a bit of proofreading, I’m having writing block and this is what I came up with.

On most nights in Joel’s bleak and lonely home, he would wind down after work with a cold beer in hand, the TV playing an old rerun on cable or a DVD fished from his old collection in the garage.

But it was Saturday, and Joel had a duty as a good neighbor and a reliable friend to your father. Joel does work too much, but he’s not the workaholic that he seems to be—he’d never work weekends. He finds that as long as he tries to convince himself that he only helps your dad out of the goodness of his heart, his mind begins to believe it.

They’ve got lots in common—they root for the same football team and drive the same model of truck. They both like country and old rock music, listening to it while they crack open a cold one. But Joel wasn’t quite sure why his attention would stray so often from his newfound companion and fall onto his girl instead—maybe it was how striking he found your features, or the fact that he’d been alone a long, long time. Either way, while he couldn’t ignore it, he could try his best to make it seem justifiable—clear his guilty conscious. Maybe it wasn’t too bad, he was just captivated by you, that’s all.

Despite your father’s friendly and outgoing nature, he and Joel were never close. That was, until four months ago when your dad asked for his help hauling in his daughter’s things. ‘My girl’s just graduated college,’ your father had explained. ‘She’s movin’ back in for a little, figurin’ things out.’ He was over the moon, and so was Joel as soon as he had seen you.

It wasn’t a crush; Joel was an adult. Deny it as he might, it was nothing short of an infatuation. Each glimpse of your face would catapult his heart rate and have it beating something dangerous in his chest. He’d go about his day with thoughts of you lingering in his mind, pleasant little daydreams of your face, your words, your body.

In recent months, Joel had begun to accept your father’s friendly advances, his presence in your home more frequent with the more time they spent. He’d assure himself that he wouldn’t pay mind to you and your tiny night shorts, but for some reason, he’d tend to be over in the evening time, once you’d changed into your pajamas.

Joel wasn’t big on small talk, but with you around, he’d make an extra effort to interject with a question or a little compliment—he couldn’t help it. What was once lingering gazes shifted into something more consuming. He joked to himself that maybe you were omnipresent with the way that everything reminded him of you, but the statement held some truth.

He had just waved your dad goodbye, the heavy wooden door shutting behind him. The blinds of the house were open—wide open—and he could still see your figure through them as he ambled down your driveway and began his course down the sidewalk. He had gotten two beers down before you had arrived home, your sweet voice and kind face doing something strange—but not unfamiliar—to Joel. He wanted to stay, to watch you, but he knew, then, that he needed to go. When he had felt a familiar twitch in his pants, he made for the door with a polite farewell.

Now, his mind was still clouded with ideas of you. In past weeks, it had become increasingly difficult to think of anything else, his everyday tasks overtaken by thoughts of you completing them with him. He had thought about holding you, kissing you, having you. He liked to imagine your hand in his while he completed his most dreaded chores, knowing that if you were near him, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad.

His home is only three houses down. It’s a short walk, but his pace is slow, somewhat of a stroll as his mind continues to wander. He’s in no hurry, but the sparks in his lower stomach are spreading—as they do each time he sees you.

Joel’s house has come into view now, his step quickening as his destination nears. Up his driveway he walks, and up his steps he goes as his restless mind leads back to you.

Fishing the house key from his pocket, he fumbles for the right one before sticking it in the lock. It turns and clicks, and his door creaks open as he pushes it in, shutting it behind him.

He locks the door, kicks off his boots, and double checks the lock again—just to be sure—before his tired body starts up the stairs. He ignores the fridge and its cold Coors Lights, the idea of a shower, and his comfortable recliner. There is something better: having a hand down his pants—something he has denied himself too long, for each time his mind wanders to you. Joel can’t touch himself without imagining you doing it for him, and this fact makes him feel despicable. His friend’s own daughter, just short of half his age. It seemed, though, that the more clouded his mind became with your image, it bothered him less and less. You seemed like something of an eidolon; though, you were very real, yet seemingly out of reach.

Joel knows exactly what he’ll do once he makes it inside his room, so he fishes his phone from his back pocket. The little phone was outdated and small, but it had a clear enough display. He rubs his thumb over the screen a few times before turning the cold knob and stepping into his bedroom. Joel flicks on the dim light, approaching his bed as it dips with his weight when he sits. It’s made up and empty—as it has been for all too long—and he wishes it wasn’t. He longs for you in his bed, or any woman, really. But, he works so much, there is so much to do… or maybe, he just doesn’t have the social capacity to go out and meet people. The phone lights up as he presses the side button with a calloused finger—this will do.

For a moment, Joel’s lock-screen looks back at him, his rare guilt and hesitance creeping back in. An impatient, yet relaxed left handed travels to his eager bulge, staving off his rowdy mind as he contemplates his actions.

By every sense of the word, Joel was horny, and he knew what he wanted. He could pull up a clunky porn website on his pocket relic, but his mind would stray to you again. He spends another moment thinking indecisively, before unlocking the phone and pulling at the button on his jeans with his free hand.

With a zip, they are open, and he sighs. Joel feels fucking pitiful, but determined either way. Theres a little wet stain of pre-cum on his faded blue briefs, and he takes it as a sign to keep going.

Rather than opening a search engine, he opts for his gallery, guiltily scrolling to his destination—maybe the way he diluted himself was deliberate. Was it totally normal that he had a folder in his phone for photos of you? Maybe; you were just his neighbor, after all. But now, it was something a lot different from a so-called innocent collection of snapshots.

Opening it finally, Joel is met with just nine pictures. It isn’t much, but it’s enough. For a moment, he thinks that he doesn’t see you nearly enough to be thinking about you like this, with a longing so intense, but he brushes off the thought. With a few more squeezes to the rock-hard tent in his boxers, Joel eases down the front of the elastic waistband, just enough for his aching length to spring free.

Joel’s cock has longed for a whole lot more than his fist, but he just couldn’t have it, so he wets his fingers in his mouth. Lightly, his fingers trace over his length in delicate strokes as he begins to scroll through the images.

He selects the first picture, an innocent frame of you in a heavy jacket and boots standing next to Joel. This one had been taken by your father and sent to him—if only he knew what it had been used for. You had been working on building the deck outside of your house together—Joel had volunteered to show you both the ropes. Hammer in hand, you were smiling at the camera, and to Joel, it was the greatest sight. His hand establishes a steady pace, his rosy tip leaking a hearty bead of pre-cum just from the thought of you. He often imagined that beautiful smile looking up at him, your knees planted on the ground. Maybe you’d be impressed by his size, or just glad to see him. He found your teeth adorable, and so were your lips. He didn’t have to wonder if they’d feel good around him, he knew they would.

Joel gives himself a tighter stroke this time, the pressure in his stomach intensifying. He scrolls to the next picture, one you had posted of yourself on the couch with a bucket of popcorn, wearing your skimpy pajamas.

He loved those ones, the thin fabric that you’d pay almost no mind to. The low neckline of your tank top left a clear view of your cleavage, and a hiss leaves his mouth as his hand speeds up. In the photo, your legs are bare and graceful. Your shorts cover almost nothing and your tiny shirt leaves your belly button visible. It’s equally adorable as it is arousing, and Joel feels his pleasure mounting as his slick fist courses up and down his length, seeking a release that only you seemed to be able to give him.

Joel takes an extra moment to trail his eyes over your arms and neck, each feature he loves about your lovely appearance; kind and sweet, welcoming and ever so attractive. He pictures your warm hands wrapped around his cock, or your sweet mouth whispering and begging him for his touch. There is something so tantalizing about your saccharine eyes and how he envisions it would feel for them to meet his, lovingly.

The following picture is one that Joel had taken. You displayed a tray of cookies proudly after pulling them from the oven. It had been a nice day—you had offered him one of your creations and asked him to snap a photo. The accomplished look in your eyes was so sweet, and he imagines that the camera was gone, and your beautiful smile had been pointed toward him, instead.

Joel is frustratingly close now, his imagination straying beyond the photos as he pictures you now, sitting on the bed, or lying underneath him. He wants to know what you feel like, what you think of him. His mind conjures what kinds of sounds you might make when you cum, how you touch yourself, and how often.

He feels the coil in his stomach about to snap, and mutters your name to himself a few times. It seemed to be a sacred word to him, something that delivered infinite comfort and arousal. With a few final strokes, his tip leaks with cum as it spews out in ropes, spurts of the cloudy liquid landing on the phone screen, overlaying your picture—your sultry smile. Joel sighs and wipes his fingers on his denim jeans, standing up reluctantly to get clean.

Thanks for reading!! Reblog if you liked, feel free to send an ask

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saduko · 11 months ago

Text

PAY YOUR DEBT

Lando Norris x Driver!Reader 7.6K words

Summary: Lando's Austrian crash could not have come at a worse time, and now he's scrambling to find someone to replace him in the upcoming Quadrant video. He's so lucky you care, and that you're horrible at lying. Or in which, reader takes Lando's place during Quadrants; 'Spill Your Guts', and they manage to pull some interesting information out of her.

Childhood Friends to Lovers, Pining, Slowburn

Despite having never met you, the cast of Quadrant were more than familiar with your name for one of a few reasons. The first being that, you were of course, a renowned Formula 1 driver beloved by many. The second being their own proximity with another famous Formula 1 driver who so happened to be your Mclaren teammate.

For years they watched from a distance, saw your interviews and watched your races, cheering their team in orange on as the two of you dominated race weekends once again. It was obvious Lando was fond of you just off the way the two interacted on track, but beyond their parasocial concept of your relationship, they knew he liked you because of the sheer number of times your name was mentioned in the Quadrant circle. Lando’s inability to refrain from speaking about you was frankly an ongoing joke at this point. Though they playfully rolled their eyes at every mention of your name, they knew they couldn't necessarily criticize him for it either. Its hard not to talk about people you spend a lot of time around, and naturally, with you two being teammates and all, it wasn’t all that strange for him to want speak about you.

And when they consider the fact that your history stems way beyond just the devoted McLaren camaraderie you share, it’s hard to be mad at him when he brings you up. You two did grow up carting together after all, entering every stage of your lives with the other. You were childhood friends.

Except they had also spent a lot of time with Lando. Yeah, you might work with him, but so do they, and they knew he wasn't just talking about you because you were around often. They knew he wasn't just mentioning you because you grew up swerving along the same tracks or because you now wore the same bright papaya orange.

The man so obviously liked you and they all knew it. He mentioned your smile far too often to hide it, and he always seemed a bit too proud when he talked about being the reason you did. Not a single Quadrant member has ever spoken to you before, and yet somehow each one could articulate the way your eyes crinkled tight when you laughed or how your lips pursed hard when you found something funny but didn't want to show it.

He liked you, even if he denied it.

And so the Quadrant cast begged and begged to meet you. Eager to see the woman who has evidently captured the man's attention, despite his insistence to the contrary to no avail. Though, their efforts hadn't entirely fallen on deaf ears; in fact, Lando had been trying to get you in a Quadrant video since he founded the damn company, begging for nearly four years, only to be met with the same dismissive glare from your gleaming eyes every time.

“One day, Lando. Not today.”

One day, you would say. Though he’s starting to think one day is no day at all. In your defense, opportunities away from the relentless gaze of the media are far and few between and the brief moments of peace you manage to find are precious. The thought of spending that private time filming yet another video for millions to watch has never been particularly enticing. As much as you care for Lando, sometimes you cherish your downtime just a little bit more.

But... this time he was stressed, and you could see it. He was supposed to film a Quadrant video this week. Finally home in London for this week’s Grand Prix, at last, he was able to put a little more effort into his personal business. It was one of the very few times a year he was able to participate in the creative side of the brand. The whole video had been planned, written, set up and was ready to be shot. The date was set, it was finally coming together. But then Lando crashed. He crashed in Austria and now his work at Mclaren had essentially been doubled for Silverstone week and he had no time to film. And now all the week’s worth of effort put into preparing the video had been flung out the window. It was supposed to be yet another spill your guts video focused on Lando and his career but now with last week's events disrupting this week's schedule, they were going to have to rewrite all the questions and find someone to fill his spot.

And so you’d watched him for the past few days on calls, asking around to see who could be available on such short notice. Between his team of producers, the other members of Quadrant and possible candidates for the video, on top of the copious amounts of obligations he had at the Mclaren headquarters, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty knowing you were spending all the current free time you had between track work lounging around the Hilton pool. You technically had no reason not to help. Changing the script wouldn’t be an easy task with the little time they had. You knew filling in meant they would have their empty spot filled and they wouldn’t need to tweak the script as much. You were a driver too, the questions they would have asked Lando still mostly applied to you as well. And you knew it’d do Lando a huge favor; lift such a massive weight off his already heavy shoulders so he could run around McLaren focusing on what actually mattered most this week - getting his car ready for the upcoming race.

And so you did it. You smiled so kindly at Lando on that faithful Wednesday afternoon and so calmly announced that if he was struggling to find a replacement, you’d be happy to help him out just this once. It was finally one day, you would take the spot for Quadrant.

Landos face had never expressed so much surprise yet simultaneous relief. And it was only a matter of seconds until Landos arm had reached entirely around your waist and your feet had left the ground. You caught a few questioning glares being sent your way from a couple Mclaren engineers in the garage, but the breath struggling to find its way to your lips at the force of it all left you unbothered. “Y/n, thank you so much, you don’t understand how much this helps me out! I owe you so bad.”

You would never say it to him, but his smile in that moment had almost paid his debt entirely right then and there. All the nerves and doubt about the decision you just made had nearly swept right by as you watched his face light with adoration. But instead you sent him a defeated grin as he placed you down on your heels. “I’m gonna hold you to your words. I better not regret this.”

“You won't, I swear.”

__ Regret this you will. As soon as the quadrant team had received the call that in his place, Lando's fellow teammate would instead be filling in for his absence, they immediately knew this wouldn’t be the video everyone was anticipating. They would take this opportunity to finally squeeze out the information they had been waiting to know for years. This would be their first time meeting you, and god was it a gold's mine worth of an opportunity. Not only would they be able to question you about your life as an F1 driver, they could also question you about your romantic life as an F1 driver, specifically about your relationship with Lando, a topic you successfully eluded everywhere else. But this video was the perfect opportunity. They would have a polygraph on set, and you were doing Lando a favor. You couldn’t leave and most importantly, you couldn’t lie.

The topic of your love life wasn't a new one, and a flurry of greedy journalists digging for a story have attempted to ask about your potential feelings for anyone and everyone on the grid. You always denied ever liking any fellow drivers and kept adamant that your driving and personal lives stay separate. But they had Lando as a secondary source - maybe to a fault - and from everything the man had explained, there was no way you weren't at least a little into him. And they were gonna get it out of you.

Was it a bit unethical? Maybe. Was it manipulative? Perhaps. Had Lando already told them he’d cut their pay if they fucked with you. Absolutely. But he’d be fine once he hears what you would inevitably say. He could thank them after they got you to confess the crush you just had to have on Lando.

So here you were, staring at a set full of very enthusiastic YouTubers, all beyond eager to be sharing a table with the phantom of a woman they had been hearing about for almost 4 years now.

Not only were you a talented and beloved motorsports athlete, more importantly, you were the girl their mate liked. and as a friend, they were curious, but as youtubers, they were out for blood. And if there's one thing a group of Youtubers were going to do, it was get you to admit your deepest darkest secrets for online content.

There would be no filling, only spilling, they'd be sure of that.

Oblivious as you were, despite how nervous you initially felt about participating in the video, it had been smooth sailing so far along. Everyone was nice enough and you could see why Lando enjoyed the company of these people, they were all quite funny after all, and the questions were not the absolute mood draining, time wasters you were used to receiving.

You were nervous coming into this but maybe this wouldn’t be all that bad.

The table settled from their laughter as Ria finally swallowed whatever it was she had been forced to bite into. Bull testicles? You didn’t want to know, and honestly it didn’t really matter all that much anymore because for the third time round, it was your turn again, and you were now being strapped up to the Polygraph machine.

Max Fewtrell's eyes sparked with a menacing joy as they locked with your own. He was hosting this video, meaning he was safe from the contents of the table, but more importantly, he got to interrogate the girl his best mate was into. He was the only person who knew that for a fact thanks to the multitude of conversations Lando has had with him in private, begging for advice on what to do. As bad as he felt about it, Max could never give Lando a straight answer, he didn’t know his fellow driver, didn’t know what it was she felt, and if she truly meant what she was saying in her interviews, it wasn’t looking too good for his friend.

This was finally his opportunity to help out.

“Y/n…” His voice carried menacingly around the room, dragging out each syllable to draw the suspense. You eyed him playfully, keeping your guard up as his eyes flickered from you to the card in his hand and then back up to you a few times. The last few questions had been relatively tame, all relating to your job; who your favorite team really was, who you disliked the most on the grid, (you'd had your fair few arguments with Stroll, but you bit into an 1000 year old egg because you were not going to admit it.)

A part of you hoped they were giving you easy questions because you were a guest - a good friend of Landos at that, but at the back of your mind you knew better. And that’s why when the question escaped Max’s lips, you really didn’t feel all that surprised. “Do you really mean it when you say you like to keep your professional life and your private life separate?”

Simple enough, but you were smart enough to know the implications of the question, so you hesitated. “... Yes.”

A pause, no buzz. “That’s true.” Ethan comments.

“Okay that’s too easy, let me rephrase it.” Max’s gaze bore straight into your own. “Do you really mean it when you say you don’t see any of the boys on the grid as like, candidates? You don’t find any of them attractive?”

The groan that escaped you was so inherently guttural you hadn’t even noticed you made the noise. Everyone laughed at your reaction and it seemed so light hearted on the surface, but inside your mind was beginning to race, heartbeat speeding up as if the peddle was full throttle. This was exactly what you were nervous about.

You had felt a bit uneasy once finding out a polygraph machine would be present, and crossed your fingers that the team wouldn’t get into the topic of your romantic ties with the boys on the grid. You guess your luck didn't really extend past the track. initially, no ties with the other drivers sparked any fears within you at the question. You really didn't have any romantic ideas of anyone, the others truly were just friends, boys you grew up with, some like brothers. None of the boys had ever made your eyes wander, or ever had your heart skipping beats when you made eye contact. There wasn’t a single driver you could think of that had ever made you nervous or left you hoping for anything more than just a friendship. No one except that one boy. That one stupid boy that had led you into this goddamned position in the first place. That one stupid boy who’s mates were all gathered around the table with eager eyes directed entirely towards you, waiting for an answer. This was truly your worst nightmare. Maybe you did like Lando, maybe the moment had awoken within your days in F2; seeing him grow from the scrawny kid on the track to something else entirely. So what of it? No one needed to know that. Curse you and your incessant want to help that stupid boy through his stress. Why did he need to make you care about him enough to do this? Now, you could ‘fill your guts' if you really wanted to, but with a yes or no question like this, no answer is just as much an answer in itself. You had watched this game enough to know how it worked, and so you opted to take your chances against the polygraph machine. “Yes I mean it.” One phrase. A simple phrase muttered through a guilty smile, and yet you could hear your heart through your ribs as you told the lie and it was so, so silent after that. The anticipation felt like the devil himself had engulfed the room in its glory. The faces at the table had your palms sweating further and Ginge’s ability to hold such intense eye contact left you wondering if there was more to this than it seemed. God, was this the longest 3 seconds of your life. But you were good under pressure. If you can keep your heart steady driving at 350 kilometers an hour, you could keep your heart steady enough to lie your way out of this question-

Beep.

Suddenly the room was ablaze with noise, yelling and screaming as everyone expressed their disbelief yet absolute excitement at the answer. Incoherent sentences thrown your way one on top of the other but your brain couldn’t decipher a single sentence, instead engulfed in the thought of how much this would change the way all the boys spoke to you, how Lando spoke to you, now that they knew you did like someone. You could already hear Danny’s teasing voice followed up by his sly, all knowing smirk. Fuck. Was it too late to back out? Maybe you could bribe Lando into deleting the footage.

But as you glanced forward into Max’s eyes, you saw the silent omniscient smirk that trickled on to his face - like the calm amidst the chaos - and you knew there was no going back. You were cooked. Your face fell into the palm of your hands, sheepish laughs slipping past your lips as you spoke in a slow, bashful tone, “No! It’s-.. It’s not like that!” But damage control is useless when the damage is already done. “Oh really?!” Ginges thick accent was next to echo across the room over top all the others, “Cause it seems like you’ve been secretly canoodling with some fast bastards and lying to all us about it!”

Ethan was the first to laugh, and soon everyone else's laughter followed suit, and as defeated as you felt a loud chuckle slipped past your lips at the comment. At the very least they were being funny about it and not trying to make a huge deal of it.

However, for the time being they couldn't prove it but once you admitted it, there was no going back, so you figured doubling down and playing dumb was the best option. “No- like, okay; the boys are good looking, they're attractive but that doesn't mean I necessarily like any of them. I grew up with these boys, you know, they’re like brothers to me. Your machine is definitely bugging out or something.”

“Nah, I think it’s working fine.” The reintroduction of Max’s voice had the room settling once again. It seemed all the quadrant members were on the edge of their seats, like they had been anticipating this the whole time.

“But if you’re sure it’s not working properly, I can try asking a different question, rephrase it a little better for you?" Max's face turned towards the camera. "In fact, we have a little tradition here!” His eyes gazing through the lens as he spoke. “Spill your guts tradition says that guests have to answer the final question and rules are no eating on the last round.” Now his eyes turned to you, “Truth’s only, so I hope you have your answer ready.”

You were just moments away from opening your mouth to protest, the words at the tip of your tongue; No thanks it’s fine,’ or even just a ‘I’ve already answered two questions, it’s not my turn anymore.’ as petty as it was. But the words were never able to slip past your overly gnawed on lips before your heart was sinking to the absolute pits of your stomach. “Who do you like on the grid and why is it Lando?”

Panic. “God! No- no it’s not Lando!” Deny. “Definitely, not Lando!” Deny.

The polygraph machine was silent for a moment as everyones eyes flickered over to the screen, and you endured the tension in real time as your forehead came down, lips pursing. And yet nothing came, no beeping sound to be heard.

To this all the boys are silent, and Ria’s eyes flicker up to Max as the man furrows his brows down. There was no way they managed to make the driver inadvertently admit she liked someone, just for it to not be Lando. You had to like him. All the stories Lando told him, all the words you spoke to him repeated back to Max, all the looks Lando was adamant he observed. All the nights clubbing, celebrating their wins together in videos Max himself saw. Your hands would travel just a little too far up, or your eyes would hold his just a little too long. It had to be Lando. He knows it.

“Okay, okay fair enough. Then I'll ask again, more direct. Y/n, do you like Lan-”

You knew the flaring panic in your eyes was not doing much to help your case, neither were your next words, but by the grace of god, or maybe his pity, that machine didn't beep despite your lie and you had just been handed an out, and lord be damned if you weren't going to capitalize on that inconclusive result. “Wait!”

You need to be smart about this. You needed to give them something they wanted whilst not giving them everything. A little sacrifice to spare a lifetime of embarrassment, and probably a long and testing conversation between you and Lando. “How about I take one bite of every single thing on this table, chew and swallow instead.” Your eyes held so much hope, pleading for an out but Max only laughs at your soft little doe eyed expression and you couldn't help but frown.

“Okay, that’d be quite funny.” Ria’s laugh suddenly bit the air, and you had to silently thank her for subverting the attention elsewhere for a moment.

“I wouldn’t do that for no one, especially not for Lando. Are you sure you don’t like him y/n?” You knew Niran was joking but god did his comment make your hands sweat. Calm down.

Max shrugged, ignoring the remarks of his fellow Quadrant members. “Rules are rules, can’t eat your way out of the last question, you have to answer.”

You have to think fast. “...Okay, well…" Hm. "How about this?” It’s the only thing you could think of on the fly, but maybe it’ll work. “I’ll tell you the details, but- I won’t mention any names. So you get to know the whens and what’s, without knowing the who’s." Your laugh was light hearted, though it sounded more nervous than humorous.

A silence suddenly engulfed the room, eyes darting back and forth as the people on the table thought over the offer. In fact the room was so silent, you felt you could hear the gears turning in their heads and you couldn’t help but feel your heart rate speed up just a little more at the prospect. These people were essentially marketing geniuses. They were youtubers whose jobs it was to get as many views as possible. Whatever the decision, you knew it wasn’t about to be in your favor, but about what favored Quadrant as a brand. You were no good at marketing - you drove fast cars even faster for god sake, but damn if you didn’t hope your idea was good enough for them.

Ginge’s voice was the first to sound. “Nah, nah, stop trying to change the conversation speedy gonzales, you think ‘cause you’re a bloody F1 driver you can- you can bend the rules!? It may slide over there princess but it ain’t gonna slide ‘ere.” His finger pointed down into the table with a glare that almost felt real and you were really trying to think but now you were laughing.

So was everyone else apparently, because it took you a moment to hear Steve’s smooth voice through all the noise, “Alright, but we’re already putting the girl through a lot.” Then finally Max spoke again. He was really starting to feel like the governing power here, “Okay hear me out. Names are easy to find when you have a story. We get the story and then we evaluate.” His eyes bore directly at you, laughing as he spoke. Max knew with whatever story you told, he could just go right to Lando and together they could eventually connect the dots. He wasn’t trying to out you to everyone… just to Lando.

After a moment of deliberation Aarav spoke, “All agreed?” To which everyone seemed to nod in agreement.

Max nodded his head. “Alright Y/n, you win. In that case, this guy you like-”

“-I don’t like him-” “-How long are we talking?... This guy you like.” The last comment had a playful laugh leaving your lips as you brought your nail to your mouth. He was purposefully pushing your buttons.

Your lips, previously curled into a smile, had now pursed at the question. “I don’t like him.” You reiterate. “It was like a small little crush if anything.”

“Was it recent?” Max questioned. “No, god it was years ago.”

Beep. Fuck, you completely forgot about the Polygraph. You could ring that stupid things neck. Come on, man throw me a bone or something. Max smiled at the revelation, glancing over at Ria as she spoke through her smirk. “Must be more than just a small little crush if your heart beat is rising at the thought of him.” To this, your head hung low as your laugh sounded. “I plead the fifth.”

You couldn’t even imagine how you would look to any viewers at home once this came out. They had well and truly cornered you here.

“Well this isn’t a bloody democracy now is it, this is an ambush.” You're very right Ginge this really is an ambush, you thought. There might be no escaping this one.

“When did you first notice you liked this person?” Ria was determined to keep the conversion on track. This is the most anyone had ever gotten out of you regarding your love life, and it being about another driver? Potentially Lando?! They were so close to what they wanted. You were silent for a moment, assessing the people staring on with anticipation. You’d only ever told this story to two people, your mom and your best friend. Were you really about to expose it to the world? The polygraph strapped to your chest said you were.

“I-... I first felt it a couple years back.”

Compliance. They got you.

“How far back we talking?” Max questioned.

“I don’t know…” your eyes flickered up at him. “Maybe early F2 days?” Ria’s eyes just about bugged out of her head as you answered, hands coming down onto the table with a gasp. “That’s like over 5 years ago!” Her reaction had you groaning, face turning a shade red enough to match the ferraris you race against as you sunk down into your seat. “Now I need to know! There had to have been a moment where you felt it! Because you had been racing with these boys for years! There has to be a moment of clarity, or was it like, progressive? Or-?”

“It- It was definitely progressive in some ways but I do remember the moment it kind of.. hit me.”

“Was it sudden?”

“So sudden.” You laughed. “Tell us!” It felt strange to engage in this conversation, you had sworn to yourself that no one else would ever hear about the feelings you had buried away for years now. Was it better to speak or to die? That truly was the question… But, It was out now, everyone knew you had feelings for one of your teammates; at least one of your F2 ones. What more harm could the details afflict? Besides you’d raced against a multitude of drivers in your F2 career, many of which never even made it to the current F1 grid so the chances of anyone guessing who you were even talking about had to be slim. Speak it was.

“We were-” The observant eyes of the Quadrant members beamed on at you as you bit your lip in deliberation, but the debate in your brain was finally over, and so you took a breath in.

“We were in between seasons beforehand, so I hadn’t really seen the boys in a few months. And I remember walking into one of the common rooms, where a bunch of the boys were all sitting around before the race, and again, I hadn’t seen these boys for quite a bit.” Your hands moved with every word you spoke, “And the thing about the F2 is that, we were all about 17 to 18 right, so most of the boys had already had their growth spurts, puberty and all that… except for this one guy.” Your eyes were bright as you recalled the memory, a laugh chasing the ends of your lips as the table fell silent.

“And at this rate - in my 17 year old brain - the only thing that ever really mattered to me was racing. Like I could genuinely have cared less about boys and relationships and all that, I’d never had a boyfriend and I was so disinterested in it. To me these boys were my friends off track and my competitors on, nothing in between. So I remember seeing everyone I hadn't seen for while and not really thinking much of it. But then my eyes kind of looked on and… noticed.. him.” God that sounds so corny but you were trying to be inconspicuous, not give away too many details. It wasn’t working.

“Him?” Max smirked.

“Him.” You doubled down. “The person.” You glared as a light laugh sounded. “He had always been a bit more on the smaller side, I guess? A 'late bloomer.'” The phrase came to you. “And I don’t know what the fuck happened in those four months we were away but god did puberty hit that motherfucker like a truck.” This time the laughter was a lot louder and you leant back, suddenly a little more comfortable now that the weight had been lifted off your chest. “It was like, he had gone from this scrawny little kid everyone used to pick on to this… man in the blink of an eye and my brain could not comprehend it.”

“Moment of clarity.” Ria laughed and you laughed alongside her.

“No really! Like that’s really what it felt like. I remember hugging everyone because I hadn’t seen them in so long, but when it came to this guy, I just, like- stared and nodded at him and he gave me the weirdest look cause I'd never done that before!” Your voice was thick with embarrassment as you chuckled, and everyone joined in your laughter. Then you stuck up your pointer finger. “But it gets worse.” You swallowed. “So my brain’s already kind of short circuiting in that moment and I guess he thought my odd behavior just wasn't worth his time because then he just goes on, puts his hands down and takes off his shirt-”

“What?!” Ethan yelled.

“Because we were racing soon and they always would! They would change around the paddock all the time! It’s so normal, they still do it, and I never, ever thought anything of it, like it never phased me. But this one time, when he just lifted his shirt over his head and I was already feeling things I’d never felt before, I was already confused, and oh my god. I don’t know what happened to me.”

Once again the table was booming with laughter. “No, it was so bad. Definitely one of my worst moments. It got to the point where one of the other boys; no names - had to smack me alongside the head and tell me to stop glaring.”

Max’s eyes lit up as he heard the last part. “Wait, people noticed?” “Not people, just the one, I think. If anyone else did, they never said anything.”

“Huh.” Max nodded. “And you don’t feel this way anymore?”

The word came without hesitance, “No,” you shook your head.

Beep.

Max had just found his jackpot moment. He had the information he needed.

What a week it had been. Between the guilt of Austria, the subsequent frantic Mclaren schedule leading up to Silverstone and the stress of the Quadrant video, Lando felt he could truly take his first breath of fresh air knowing at least one of those problems was officially resolved.

The day was nearing its end meaning you were probably just about done filming with his crew and were likely headed back to the hotel for some well deserved rest before a hectic day of simulation practice and debriefing tomorrow.

He knows he has already done it 1000 times over, but he really needed to thank you for the favor you did him this week. No matter how much you spoke of all free time you had, he knew you were really just as busy with race prep, it wasn’t the simple ‘schedule squeeze’ you had made it out to be and he was more than grateful.

“What time did you say Y/n was coming back?” Charles’ voice rang loud throughout the room as his eyes flickered up from his phone. A few of the drivers had decided to spend a not so usual night in Max's hotel room sharing a few drinks. Camaraderie and all that, especially after the tension of last week.

“She should be finishing up now.”

“Is she coming back here?” Charles continued, still glancing between his phone and Lando’s eyes, fingers tapping briskly over the screen.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to her. Why?” Landos eyebrows furrowed down as he asked.

“Nothing, Alex was asking, that's all. I think she was going to stop by if so but I’ll tell her don’t worry.” To this Lando hummed. As much as he hoped you would stop by - hoped you would have a few drinks with them because you always got a little touchy and so much more bold with your advances when you did (and he’d be completely lying if he said he didn’t love it everytime) - he also knew how exhausting a day of filming was. Further, he knew his friends, and as much as he had scolded them - put them through the ringer about not messing with you, he knew them well enough to know they would do it anyways. You would probably go straight back to the room, and while he understood, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

Distracted with his thoughts of you, he had almost missed the buzzing of his phone on the table besides the couch armrest he had been leaning against, if it hadn’t been for Carlos’ voice breaking the trail his mind was wandering. “Lando compadre, your phone.”

Snapping his eyes to the side, Lando quickly reached out and turned it over to see Max Fewtrell's name splayed across the screen. And being too lazy to pick up the phone and assuming he was just calling to assure him that filming went well, he swiped his finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button to talk.

“Yeah mate, how’d it go?”

“She has feelings for a driver.”

Woah. No hello, no how are you, not even a build up to the revelation? It felt as if the world had stopped spinning as every single person in the room froze to look back at Lando with wide eyes.

“W-What?” Landos heart felt still in his chest as he spoke.

“We got her to talk about her relationships on the grid-”

“-You dickhead! I told you not to-”

“-I know you told us not to push her, but It wasn’t me!”

“You’re telling me she just admitted that on her own?” Landos voice was laced with sarcasm, a scoff of knowing disbelief leaving his throat. Bullshit.

“No! … Ria did it.”

“Max you muppet, she was doing me a favor! She probably hates me now.” Lando sighed into his hands before peaking through his fingers to glance around. All three boys; Charles, Carlos and Verstappen all had their heads turned towards the phone with wide eyes.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Max laughed. “Maybe not! She said there was a driver she had a crush on during her formula 2 days, she wouldn’t admit who and when we asked if she still liked them she said no, but the buzzer went off. She was lying, Lando.” The silence in the room seemed deathly thick as the words left Fewtrells mouth, the three other boys blinking at the words they were hearing. They were sure to be experiencing the same emotions Lando himself had been. Shock, confusion, maybe a little intrigue. The boys had been teasing you for years about your relationship status. You had been single for so long, yet constantly surrounded by men so it was inevitable that the conversations would arise; you had to like someone. Nevertheless, you always stood firm, exclaiming that always being around the boys just made it even easier not to.

After years of the same answers, with absolutely no indication to suggest otherwise, it was hard not to believe the words you spoke. And when you started dating your then boyfriend a few years ago - now ex, thank god for Lando - and bringing him around the paddock; a random guy none of the boys knew very well, the teasing well and truly died down. You really didn’t like anyone on the grid.

But now here they were hearing that the years of teasing, the years of questions, of loud drunken debates and near screaming matches had all been in effort to hide the truth they all suspected. A truth you had been hiding for over 5 years apparently.

The silence must have stuck out to Max Fewtrell beyond the phone, as he seemed to continue talking in the absence of a response. “Here’s what we managed to get out of her. He was an F2 driver that raced with her. She was close to him because he was one of the first people she saw after off season. She had raced with him before, so it wasn’t a new driver. And get this, he was a ‘late bloomer'- was one of the smallest in the comp before he shot up.”

Suddenly it was as if the gears were beginning to turn in Lando’s head, and he couldn’t help but pick up on the obvious smile Fewtrell definitely wore behind the phone. A late bloomer? There weren't many of those by the time they had reached Formula 2, and if there was one thing Lando was, it was a late bloomer. And it seemed everyone else had put the same cogs together, because now all the boys seated around were looking at him with sly smirks and cocked brows.

God, there was no way. Not a single chance! Lando had spent the past however many years of his life stumbling after this girl, chasing your shadow in hopes for just a single moment of something more between you. That you would glance at him from a distance for as long as he did you, yearn to talk to him as much as he did you, sit up and think about him as often as he did you. He had liked you for as long as he could remember, and while he admits it may have been more akin to puppy love back in his teen years, that innocent crush quickly developed into something so much more intense as he got to be close to you. He wasn’t really afraid to admit he had feelings for you, and while he's never really said it out loud, he also made no attempts to hide it either, and it quickly became obvious to all your mutual friends that he liked you.

The two youngest single people on the paddock that grew up together, now teammates, who were forced to be around each other everyday but somehow were still never apart, even when it wasn’t required, together anyway. Except one was obviously in love and the other would never like a driver, personal life and professional life were strictly separate.

Beep. Lies.

Fuck, no, he couldn’t get his hopes up like this. It’s something, but it also doesn't really mean anything.

“Okay but, there were a lot of damn drivers on the f2 grid. There were a few late bloomers, and she was friends with plenty of the other guys that never made it to Formula 1. She- she could be talking about a lot of people.”

“You didn’t think I'd call you with all this doubt, Bob?” Max’s voice was smug and mischievous and Lando couldn’t help but wince at the dumb nickname. “Respect my name. I wouldn’t leave without something to attest. Apparently she was caught staring at the guy by another driver. Another driver knows, or at least they noticed.”

“F2 years you said?” Verstappen's voice rang loud, it almost made Lando jump from the change in bass.

“That’s what y/n said.”

Verstappen's eyes seem harsh as his brows move down to come over his lids. “Coming back from the off season?”

“...Yeah?” Fewtrell agrees.

In the blink of an eye Verstappen’s tense face had quickly fallen into a bright and humorous expression, eyes squinting tight as his head fell back in a loud laugh, “Oh my god!”

“What?” Lando questions.

“Oh my god, Lando, It’s you!”

A chorus of ‘what’s’, and ‘huh’s’ course the room as Max leans over to give Lando an exhilarated slap on the back of the neck. Lando’s eyes are wide as he leans forward in a wince. Though, wether he was wincing at Max’s sudden motion or the revelation he’d just been subjected to, he wasn’t sure. You? Liking him?!

“It was me who noticed!” His laugh boomed as he spoke. “I remember it because I thought it was funny at the time, and for a while after it I thought she might have liked you because it was so unlike her. But she kept denying ever liking anyone and then she showed up with that prick of a boyfriend after that and I just let it go. I always knew it was something!” Max’s voice went raspy as he spoke in a loud, joyful tone, he was no doubt excited at the news. He loved you and wanted to help you wherever he could. And though he would never say it out loud, watching Lando pine over you; the way he cared for you, the way he would defend you when the media had negative things to say; he did think Lando would be a good match for you.

Now, Lando on the other hand, Lando’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions as he struggled to conceptualize the bomb that had just been dropped over him. He had spent so long pining after you, thinking you saw him as nothing more than just a teammate or worse, just a friend. The idea of you possibly liking him back was a concept he had spent night dreaming of yet never did he think the day would actually come. He was so unconvinced of it ever happening he almost felt unprepared, unsure of what to do or how to act now. Yet, here it was. The room seemed to buzz with a newfound energy, the boys' playful teasing barely registering as he tried to wrap his head around the idea.

"Lando, you okay?" Carlos asked, his voice softer than usual, breaking through Lando's thoughts.

Lando blinked, looking up to see the concerned yet amused faces of his friends. "Yeah, just... processing."

“She likes you mate!” His best friend's words sounded unreal to him. You like him. You like him too. All this time trying to form something with you, not realizing what you already had.

Crashing that goddamn car may have been the best fucking thing that's ever happened to him.

If he’d known this would have been the outcome of DNFing he’d have sent his car straight into the track barrier years ago. Sacrificing pole position if he had to.

He truly thought nothing could have taken him away from this moment, not a single other thing could pull him back from his thoughts of you. Nothing except you. And the sound of his phone beeping with the tone of an incoming call really did pull him back to reality. Because it was you. You were calling!

The boys incessant chatter had immediately come to a halt as Lando shot up. “She’s calling!” His head turning left to right as he frantically looked around at the boys around him. “She’s calling, what do I do?”

Fewtrell’s voice couldn't have come through any clearer. “Answer you knob!”

And so he did. He analyzed the buttons and clicked the one that ended the call with Max and sent it straight over to you instead.

His heart stuttered as the line went silent, anticipation pulsing through every inch of his veins. The boys sat back in their seats, eagerly eavesdropping on a conversation that could potentially bring a whole new meaning to the word WAG. But Lando didn’t care, more so he didn’t notice, he truthfully had been so sucked in by the letters of your name he forgot the boys were even there.

What was he even supposed to say? You didn’t know what he knew, maybe he shouldn’t have answered. And yet he found his voice shakily as his teeth clasped his bottom lip.

“Hello?” His breath stuttered as he spoke, and the line sat silent for just a moment too long for Lando’s liking. Y/n? “Lando, you owe me so bad!”

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #lando imagines #f1 x reader #ln4 #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #f1 #lando norris x you #quadrant #quadrant x reader

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vanesycho · 8 months ago

Text

kinktober day 9 [age gap]

|masterlist|

warning:age gap,smut, fingering, p in v

wc:2,3k

“Someone's not in the mood.” Seungcheol turned to him, who was pulled out of his thoughts by Jeonghan’s words, “Huh? Oh- no I’m fine, I just got distracted.” Minghao’s hysterical laughter caught everyone’s attention, while he sipped his drink in a relaxed manner and spoke, “Is that the bartender girl who distracted you?” The others had mocking smiles on their faces, and Seungcheol rolled his eyes, poured himself another shot. “Ooh, you like her?” He ignored Mingyu’s question, not missing your gaze as he drank his drink, and slammed his glass down on the table. “Nothing like that, I just found it strange that such a young girl would be working in such an environment.”

Even though he didn’t know your age, it was obvious that you looked young, yet you smiled politely at the customers and seemed happy to be working here, and that caught Seungcheol’s attention. Weren’t you afraid of what would happen to you? Your checkout time must have been late, and how were you able to get home alone? Or were you alone? Was there someone with you? You had been distracting him all night long in a way he didn’t understand, and he wasn’t happy about it. His eyebrows furrowed to themselves. “Dude, instead of looking at her like you’re going to eat her, how about you talk?” He kept Minghao’s suggestion in mind, but he didn’t rush and waited for the clock to tick down.

Everything was the same as it was 3 in the morning. The customers inside the bar were starting to go as it was almost time to close. Seungcheol turned to his friends, Soonyoung was already napping with Dokyeom, Minghao was sitting quietly in a corner listening to Mingyu. When he saw that the others were doing their own thing, he stood up. “Where are you going?” Mingyu asked in a tired tone. “I’ll be right back.” was all he said, and he was already walking towards you.

With the decrease in customers, the orders had also decreased, and just as you were about to be grateful that you finally had some time to catch your breath, the person who had pulled you from your thoughts sat down in front of you. You put on a tired smile. “What would you like to drink?” he just looked at you for a while "I don't want anything but..." you put the glass you cleaned back in its place and listened to him "Aren't you a little young to work here?" The question didn't surprise you, you heard it quite often so you had an answer ready "Being young might be misleading, I'm very good at my job and I have no complaints about working here." he nodded, it was obvious that you were mature for your age. Despite how delicate and small you looked... Normally, if he saw you, he wouldn't have guessed that you would be working in a place like this.

"So, doesn't it bother you to work in a place like this?" You took a deep breath. "No, on the contrary, I like standing on my own two feet. If something bothered me, I wouldn't be here." He remained silent in the face of your self-confidence and determination, you looked at him for a while and smiled and poured him a drink, after all, since it was almost time to leave, you poured yourself a glass and handed him the other. He smiled at the glass you held out to him and took a sip. "How long have you worked here?" You leaned your head on your palm, supporting yourself with your elbow. "I'm almost done with my first year." He examined your face carefully, staring into your eyes illuminated by the bar light for a while, then followed a path from your cheek to your neck, finally his gaze moved up to your lips and he swallowed. When he noticed the corners of your lips curling up, he looked up to your eyes. "Don't you embarrassed when you're examining someone?"

He laughed at your sarcastic sentence, tilting his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You were pleased to see such a gentle person behind such a stern and serious appearance, and you knew it you like it. "I didn't say I was uncomfortable." The sentence you said made him frown slightly, it was an answer he didn't expect, but he wasn't complaining, his expression softened. "I'm glad to hear it then." A slight smile appeared on his face. You could both feel the tension between you growing. Nothing had happened yet, but it was obvious that you both had a hunger for each other. "Tell me, what do you do?"

"I run a company, I own it." Your eyebrows widened in surprise. "So... You're a CEO?" He shrugged as if it was the easiest job in the world and took a sip of his drink. You blinked a few times. "Well, I didn't expect that." He let out a small chuckle. "Why?" This time, you were the one to shrug. "I don't know, I don't know what answer I was expecting, to be honest, but it definitely wasn't this." you took a deep breath "But I have no complaints, after all I managed to catch the attention of a CEO." he raised an eyebrow and grinned, moving a little closer to you from across the table "So you like this attention?" you looked at him challengingly, not backing away "Oh I mean... You've been watching me for hours, you'd have to be blind not to notice your gaze. Still, I admired you for having the courage to come to me, yes." Playing with him like this and heating things up only intensified his interest in you even more. His eyes locked on you, you noticed the change in his gaze.

"Tell me your name." His commanding tone without asking made you laugh, you leaned closer to his lips. "Y/n." His eyes immediately dropped to your lips. "Y/n.." he mumbled your name. "A name that suits a beautiful and young girl like you. Seungcheol." Seungcheol You repeated his name in your mind. "Y/n! It's closing time, are you still here?" Your friend's voice interrupted the two of you. You stepped back. "Ah.. It's done already? Didn't notice." Your friend glanced at the two of you and rolled his eyes. "Sure.. I wonder why."

You went to the back room to get your stuff, Seungcheol was waiting for you at the bar's exit. "Aren't you coming?" He shook his head in response to the Jeonghan's question. "No, you go, I have something I need to do." Minghao opened the car door, trying to get the dozing Soonyoung inside and muttered. "Sure, or you have 'someone' to do." "I heard you." Minghao ignored what Seungcheol said and got behind the wheel. Soon everyone had set off and only he was left. "What are you doing here?" He turned to you at the sound of the voice. "It's late, I thought I could drop you off, it might be dangerous to go alone."

You raised your eyebrows questioningly. "Is that so? Because I've been going home so easily so far." He put his hands in his pockets and leaned towards you slightly. "Still, is it worth risking it?" You crossed your arms. "If you ask me, it's more dangerous to get into a car with a guy I don't know." He laughed. "Oh, really? You didn't seem to care when you were teasing me earlier." You walked past him without saying anything and headed towards his car. His smile continued as he followed behind you. "That's what I thought."

The road was silent for a while. You were standing in the car waiting at a red light. He turned his gaze to you. You noticed this but didn't say anything. You looked at the green light that was on. "Look at the road." Your laugh reached his ears as he continued driving. "Are you always like this with your mind somewhere else?" he turned to you for a short moment "No. That's the weird part. I like you, I'm drawn to you and I don't know why. But I have no intention of stopping unless you reject." It made your heart beat faster that he was someone who could show his feelings so openly, it was obvious that he was a mature and thoughtful person, you licked your dry lips. When you noticed that the car had stopped, you looked out the window for a while "Thanks for the ride." He didn't answer, he just nodded. You stopped when you were about to open the car door "Would you like to come in?" Seungcheol didn't know what to say at first, finding the offer unexpected "Are you sure?" You grinned "Well...You brought me all this way, I thought I should give you something in return, you know?"

“I didn’t think you meant that when you said 'something in return'.” You started unbuttoning Seungcheol’s shirt. “Oh please don’t pretend, you’d have to be stupid not to guess what was on your mind.” He laughed and quickly laid you down on the bed. He quickly unbuttoned the remaining buttons, watching him take off his clothes, admiring his body. “Are you just going to stand there or…” You reached out your hand and gently brushed his body, slowly reaching up, coming to his neck and pulling him closer to you. He pressed his lips to yours without waiting, kissing you while he worked on removing your clothes, you helped him by slightly lifting your hips. He pulled back to take off your shirt and soon you were both completely naked.

He watched you lying underneath him, looking you up and down, muttering a curse under his breath. “Fuck you look so beautiful.” You giggled in response to his compliment. He spread your legs and got in between them, his fingers starting to caress your pussy without taking his eyes off you. Your mouth remained slightly open, breathing slowly quickened, he watched your chest rise and fall. Seungcheol's finger circled your clit and then he easily slid his middle finger inside your hole, you let out a loud moan "You're so.. warm, oh you feel so good even with just one finger." Then he inserted his second finger, the moan coming from you reaching his ears again "Cheol..." His name came out of your mouth with a whimper, his already hard cock aching.

He leaned in and kissed your lips "Are you okay, baby?" You looked into his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders "I'm okay, please continue." He didn't hesitate. His fingers were shamelessly moving in and out of your pussy, the wetness easily wrapped around his fingers, he curled them inside you and started to speed up. The pleasure made your voice get louder, "Cheol..More.. Please..Want you inside me.." he paused between the kisses he started to place on your neck, whispering into your ear, "Naughty girl...You were challenging me and now you're begging for my dick? I thought a young girl like you was completely innocent. Tch, how pathetic." His fingers hitting your pleasure point made your eyes blur with pleasure, "Yes- don't stop, please, I-" before you could finish your sentence, the fingers came out of you, you whined, eyes narrowed at him.

He laughed at your reaction and grabbed his cock and positioned it in your pussy. “Be patient. I need to see how you cum around my cock, can you do that, baby?” You nodded, and he pushed the tip of his cock inside you. “Good girl.” Even though you only had half of his big, veiny cock inside you, you already felt full. “Too much…Cheol, I can’t take any more-” You let out a groan of pain when he quickly pushed the rest of it inside you. He moved closer to you, pressing small kisses to your cheek and waiting for you to get used to it. “Come on, you can do it. You’re so good for me, hm? I’ll make you feel good.” He started to move inside you slowly, the fullness inside you was too much, his cock stretching your pussy felt like it was already destroying you. He was putting more in with each movement. “Good job, you’re so good, just- fuck- a little more.”

The pain was replaced by pleasure, and Seungcheol, realizing that you were getting used to it, started to speed up. He was ramming his entire length into your pussy with each movement, without mercy. He moaned deeply, his breathing becoming ragged. Soon he was already hitting your pleasure point, from the increase in your moans he knew he was hitting the right spot and didn’t slow down his movements. You watched as drops of sweat started to run down his neck, “I’m c-close..” he kissed your neck. “I know baby, cum for me hm? I know you can.” the words he whispered in your ear made you swallow hard. Your pussy clenched around his cock, your breathing was ragged and the pleasure was too much. You were already cumming when Seungcheol let out a deep moan in your ear. He pulled back and spread your legs, watching your fluids drip down around his cock and down your pussy. He pulled out of you and came onto the covers, throwing himself next to you and trying to catch his breath. “Are you feeling okay?” you smiled at how worried he was and moved closer to him, without waiting he pulled you into his arms and kissed your head. “Do you want me to clean you up? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep like this.” you lifted your head to look at him. “Oh you don’t have to do this, you can go, I’ll handle it myself.” he frowned. “Who said I was leaving?” now you were the one who frowned. “What?” he stood up and quickly picked you up and started walking towards the bathroom. “If you think I’m going to have a one-night stand and leave you, you’re wrong, young lady.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #svt x reader #svt smut #scoups imagines #seventeen scoups #scoups smut #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #svt scoups #svt hard hours #svt hard thoughts #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #scoups

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fairestwriting · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! Congratulations on passing your exams! 🎉🎉 Can I request a reader who is Malleus' adopted younger sister and is dating Leona? I feel like he would be very protective either way, and given his and Leona's relationship..... This is going to be fun hehehe

THANK YOU SO MUCHH :’D i dont talk about their beef often but lord does it fascinate me. this situation is one i would study under a petri dish. but i cant do that. so i just ended up writing a long hc list hfdjg

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

See, Malleus himself doesn’t think about Leona all that much. Not as often as Leona thinks of him, at least— So the way things play out might surprise you a bit. When you actually get to speak with Leona, you might be expecting a sort of hostility that… turns out to not really be there. He’s still not really warm and welcoming while you’re still strangers, sure, but he speaks to you like the fact that you’re in Malleus’ family is just entirely irrelevant.

…Malleus, on the other hand, really doesn’t love that you’re speaking to Leona, out of all people. Despite him not thinking about him that often Despite all of his talk about how he supports you making friends, regardless of who they are. ”Out of all people in the school…” He grumbles, shaking his head. He clearly doesn’t want to come off unsupportive, while clearly not supporting the idea of you two interacting at all. ”Of course I won’t stop you from talking to other students. But, does it really have to be Kingscholar…”

And it’s weird. Of course it’s weird. You’re wondering what Leona is thinking about for a great deal of the time while you’re still not all that comfortable around each other. In the few times he’s mentioned Leona, Malleus certainly had commented on how he could be a tricky person to figure out, even if he seemed so unmotivated most of the time. He might’ve mentioned one of his previous Magift plots and everything… And if he didn’t yet, he definitely will when he finds out you two are getting closer. It’s just that he doesn’t think it’s a very good idea for you to get this close to a person like him, he’ll tell you.

Meanwhile, Leona doesn’t care… or so it seems? You mention, one time, that you’re Malleus’ adopted sister, and he just shrugs. ”Wouldn’t have guessed. You two have nothing in common.” He replies, a lot more lighthearted than you’d expect. It easily could be part of the reason you two end up being drawn to each other, you’re used to people making too much of a big deal when they talk to you, since you’re part of the Draconia family. Not as much as they do to your brother, sure, but enough for it to feel a bit suffocating at times— And Leona doesn’t do any of that.

(What’s really happening, regarding Leona “not caring”, is that he at first thought getting close to you could bring him closer to getting back at Malleus like he wanted. But then, well, it turns out that he *also* felt a bit tired of how most people treat him. And you also happened to not do that. So he actually got attached.)

”You know, your brother’s not really gonna love the news…” Leona says with a snicker, putting an arm over your shoulders when you two actually start dating. Not that he really had to, when Malleus made a point of “checking up” on you regarding your thing with Leona a little bit too often. All so, how is Kingscholar, he hasn’t disrespected you in any way, has he. And his worries sometimes come on so suddenly, it’s like he’s not acting like himself… even when you’re this close to him, and you’re so aware of how much he cares about his loved ones.

It results in this very strange, mostly unspoken truce. Malleus may be suspicious, but after enough “checkups”, he’ll accept it… kind of. He won’t stop asking you whether Leona is treating you right or not, he’ll just do it less often. And Leona himself, well… he’ll always be a little smug about the whole thing. He feels like he has the upper hand in the whole thing.

(That, and, he’d never want to distance you from your family. Blood related or not. But like many of the things he thinks, you won’t really see him admitting it.)

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #lis writing

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solarismoons · 3 months ago

Text

Astronomy (Pt. 3)

‘It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart’

Wally Clark x fem!reader

Summary: You struggle amid Maddie's disappearance. Nicole begs for answers.

Warnings: Angst, slight fluff, mentions of alcohol, careful reading.

prev. chap next. chap.

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The day started well. Your cast was removed that morning and was replaced with a less obnoxious black brace. As usual, you floated through the day with your head clouded with thoughts of Wally. Life truly became sunshine and rainbows, just with a drunk dad and dead mom included.

Although you were too lost to notice, your friends began worrying. You were pulling away, becoming distant. You were doing the same thing you were secretly on Nicole’s ass for. All because of a boy. It wasn’t Wally’s fault, no–How could he know? He had warned you countless times to get more sleep, and that he could survive a night without you, but you ignored him. He was a distraction from real life, a dream you never wanted to awake from. But, it wasn’t merely that you sought refuge in him; your feelings truly ran much deeper.

But, life throws eventually throws curveballs. That night, dark storm clouds eclipsed the rainbows, and the cupcakes slowly molded. The other shoe had officially dropped.

────────────

The brush ran across your nail bed, a brilliant red thinly coating it with each stroke. You smiled down at the color, knowing Wally would appreciate it.

Your phone buzzed beside you, the vibrations causing it to skid across the desk. Carefully placing the nail polish down–your arm already stiff from the brace–you picked up the device with your free hand. Your eyebrows raised at the contact name.

“Mrs. Nears? Is everything okay?” You tucked the phone into the crook of your shoulder, holding it against your ear as you continued to paint your nails.

The woman was obviously flustered, her breaths coming in quick and sharp. “I- I haven’t seen Maddie all day. She- She didn’t come home after school!”

Your motions paused. “Wait- Wait- Slow down. Tell me what happened.”

A loud sigh sounded from the speaker. “Maddie never came home from school. It’s been an hour! I called Nicole, I called Simon, I called Xavier for fucks sake! He didn’t even answer anywa-”

A small smile spread across your face as you continued to paint your nails. “If Xavier’s ducking your calls he’s probably with her right now. You know those two… They might as well be locked in a box when they’re together.”

You could hear Sandra think for a second, her breathing slowing. She inhaled a shaky breath and agreed, reluctantly. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. I’ll try them both again in a little…”

As soon as you hung up the phone, your face dropped slightly. There was no reason to panic, right? It had only been an hour since school ended. Xavier and Maddie were practically infamous for how often they were almost reported missing when they were out. But, you had a strange feeling in your chest. One you couldn’t quite shake all night.

Maddie was officially reported missing at 9:43 that evening. Her blood was found on the boiler room walls early the next morning.

Split River might as well have become a ghost town. For the next few days, hundreds of students were forced to stay home from school–much to their ‘dismay’. For them, it was considered a vacation–a holiday of sorts. For everyone who knew Maddie? It was hell.

Despite all the chaos, detectives still could not find a single lead. So, all students were sent back to school and expected to pretend everything was fine.

────────────

The gym was filled with loud chattering, each echo bouncing off the bare walls. Folded chairs were spread across the floor, making a rather uncomfortable makeshift assembly.

“Everyone, please quiet down.” A few heads peeked up from phones, their eyes focusing on Mr. Hartman. He cleared his throat awkwardly causing microphone feedback to spill from the speakers. “Please, people.”

You zoned out for half of his speech, your eyes blank and focused on the chair in front of you. A few of his words bounced around your head such as “trying” and “missing persons.” It was nothing you hadn’t heard already.

If you were being honest, you felt terrible. For years, you couldn’t stand Maddie. Years you spent wondering, why Maddie? Why her and not you? Why did Nicole spend all her time with her, instead of you? But now, in her absence, you understood. The obsession, the infatuation. You missed her laugh. You missed how she could talk about a movie for hours without anyone getting bored. You missed her strange sense of humor. You just missed her–More than you ever thought you would.

Maybe… Maybe you weren’t ‘friends by extension.’ Maybe she meant more to you than you thought.

Whatever you truly felt towards her, it weighed you down. The strangest thing of all, though, was the energy you felt surrounding you. It was different from the one you felt near Wally. With Wally, it was an overwhelming sense of desire. Now, sitting in the too-crowded auditorium, you felt pained. Your heart felt heavy with each breath, and your head pounded with each word you spoke. It was almost like you could feel something that wasn’t actually there.

Your ears completely drowned out the principal welcoming Split-river's cheer squad to the front of the room to put on a rather disturbing performance–considering the context.

“Go… Split-river…”

“BA…DI…”

“For Maggie!”

The chants flickered in and out of focus, their meanings distorted like the flickering static on an old television screen. Your gaze drifted into the distance, unfocused and distant as if a veil had descended over your thoughts. How could someone just disappear? Leave all their friends and fami-

“They can’t HEAR you!”

Your head immediately snapped up to the bleachers, eyes focusing on Denim Jacket–Charley, as Wally had informed you countless times. He stood leaning over the railing, his mouth moving as if he was talking to someone. For Dawn, engaging in lengthy monologues with herself was perfectly normal, but Charley? From what you saw and heard from Wally, he was normal…For the most part.

His mannerisms, the way his eyes focused on the air next to him… He appeared just as you had imagined yourself looking while talking to Wally. Schizophrenic, basically. His eyes followed the air and he shook his head, chasing after seemingly nothing.

Your mouth hung slightly ajar, your eyebrows furrowed in a tight knot.

What the hell was going on in this fuckass school?

“Hey, you comin’?” Simon’s voice sounded out over the echoes of chattering and chairs scraping against the linoleum. You jumped a little, your heart picking up speed. Shit, you hadn’t even realized the assembly was over. Simon stood in front of you awkwardly, his face a mix of exhaustion and concern.

“Yeah- I… Sorry,” you muttered, collecting your jacket and backpack off the floor. It was still difficult with the brace, so Simon had to assist you with getting the strap onto your shoulder. You whispered a quick thank you before following the stream of students out the gym doors.

Running through the hallway, you body-slammed a few kids, causing all sorts of names to be thrown at you. You ignored them with a huff and continued your search. There he was, standing in the middle of the hallway, his eyes focused on the air again. He crowded around Nicole, who was busying herself with taping posters to the lockers.

You watched her shake her head and walk away, her fists clenched at her side.

Wally had told you countless times not to tell the others. Something about a chemistry ghost? You had no clue. Whatever it was, you knew he had his reasonings. So, you growled and ran your fingers through your hair, opting to turn around and stomp your way back to class.

You had to talk to Wally.

The day went by quickly, a new drama happening every other hour. It was like you were in your own TV show. Simon almost pulverized Xavier in the middle of a classroom, Xavier was caught with Maddie’s cell phone, Xavier pulverized Simon in the hallway, and to top it all off, you were forced to watch Sandra Nears struggle through a painful speech.

You could see Wally on the other side of the gymnasium, but he was already occupied. If it were under any other circumstance, you would’ve laughed at how it looked like a ghostly AA meeting. But, all you could think about was Maddie and whatever was going on with Charley.

Once again, you found yourself swimming through a river of students flowing out of the gym, each grabbing a candle on their way out. As the sun dipped slowly to the horizon, its warm rays surrendered to the night. Inky black unfurled across the sky, swallowing the last remnants of light. Only the moon was left to illuminate the ground below.

The one person you were looking for was unaccounted for, seemingly vanished into thin air. You should’ve been joining the search along with Simon and Nicole, but there were matters more pressing. As soon as you pressed your hand against the heavy metal doors, you heard heavy boots stomping from behind you.

“Where are you going?” Nicole asked, speed walking to catch up to you. She looked about the same state you saw Simon in just hours ago.

“To search,” you said, lying right through your teeth. She followed you out the door and into the cold evening air.

“What is going on with you?” Nicole continued to chase after you, mud caking into her boots as you both stomped across the field.

“I mean- Our best friend is missing,” You scoffed slightly, not in the mood for Nicole’s usual outbursts.

“No! Not that- You’ve been weird for weeks!” She ran in front of you, walking backward.

“There’s nothing fucking-”

She planted her feet, her face twisting in anger. Her hands flew out in front of her and she pushed against your shoulders, stopping you.

“No, no! You are not doing this. Please! Please talk to me!” Her eyes were wide and glossy, filled with a desperate need for answers.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” You said simply, trying to push past her. Her grasp was firm, yet not painful.

“Yes, there is! You’ve been disappearing from class for weeks, and you never speak to me anymore! Also, Mrs. Moore saw you sneaking out your window at 3 in the freakin’ morning! What- Why?” She was at a loss, words somersaulting out of her mouth uncontrollably.

“You talked to my fucking neighbor, Nicole?” Anger bubbled deep within you, seeping into your throat. Nicole didn’t understand. She never would.

“What was I supposed to do? You never tell me what’s bothering you! What happened to BFFs for life?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Oh, god, Nicole! We made that pact in 3rd-”

“I DON'T CARE! Okay? I don’t! I- I miss my best friend! I just want her back. Please.”

Each crack of her voice felt like a searing dagger, embedding itself deep within your heart, leaving a trail of burning pain in its wake. You stood there pathetically, unable to come up with even a lame excuse. “Is it drugs?”

You almost laughed at that, but instead, you shook your head quickly.

“Is it your dad? A boy?”

At her mention of a boy, your jaw clenched ever so slightly. She seemed to notice it, her hands slowly falling to her sides. The expression of sheer disappointment etched across her face was nothing less than heartbreaking.

“It is, isn’t it? Who is it? No- I..I don’t even want to know,” She said, holding her head in her hands. "Why him? Why not me? I’ve told you so, so many times ‘you can talk to me you know’ and you run to some… guy?”

You bit your lip, your previous anger returning. Just as she opened her mouth again, you interrupted her, “Because of Maddie!”

Nicole took a small step back, her eyebrows shooting up toward her hairline in surprise. She stood there, momentarily frozen, her mouth slightly parted in disbelief. Deep brown eyes scanned every inch of your face as if it had the answer to each of her questions.

“It’s always her! You’re the one who pulled away from me first! Every single time I tried to hang out, your response was always, ‘I’m with Maddie!’” You paused, catching your breath before continuing. “I was so lonely, Nicole! I’m sorry for turning to someone who would actually fucking give me the time of day!”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, shimmering like the stars that hung in the sky. With a small step backward, she recoiled as if struck by the weight of your words. Her voice shook with guilt as she cleared her throat, “I-I didn’t know you felt that way.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. “I never told you.”

Taking a step forward, she took your hand in her own, squeezing tight. “I wish you did.” Her lip quivered as tears finally fell from her lashes. “I love you, okay? Please, don’t forget that. I love Maddie too, and- and I didn’t mean to push you away. Neither of us did.”

Tears fell from your eyes as well, each droplet becoming a weight lifting off of you. “It’s fine, Nicole.”

She wrapped her arms around you tightly, her fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt as if she were afraid to let go. Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking into your tank top, leaving behind damp patches. “It’s not. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry,” Nicole repeated, pulling you impossibly tighter against her. “Whoever this guy is, he’s lucky to have you.” She pulled back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, coal-black mascara smearing against the soft skin. “You don’t have to talk to me now. Just, please- remember that you can.”

“I know,” you whispered, sniffling. You pulled her tightly against you, wrapping your arms around her waist, mirroring her prior actions. “I miss her,” you sobbed into her neck as the weight of your friend's disappearance came crashing down on you in an instant.

“Me too.”

You both stood there beneath the gentle glow of the full moon, its silvery light casting a serene glow over the courtyard. The cool, whispering breeze danced around you, sending goosebumps across your arms. Reluctantly pulling back, you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, sniffling loudly. You squeezed your friend's shoulder, a sad smile crawling onto your face. “Let’s go find Simon and search for Madds.”

Nicole nodded, taking your hand in her own. You walked back into the school, fingers intertwined. Guilt for each nasty thought you had about Maddie mixed with your anger at Nicole dissipating, created an unsettling flurry of overwhelming emotions. Despite the soul-crushing war in your head, your best friend’s warmth was a reminder that you weren’t as alone as you thought.

You cared for Wally. You truly did. But, he couldn’t always be there for you. It wasn’t fair to him. So, for the first time in weeks, you pushed him out of your head, replacing him with glimmers of hope–hope for the future and hope of Maddie returning safely.

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tags: @just-here-to-readd @shotos-angelic-whore @morstuavitamea-a @sweetdayme4427 @vanessa-boo @mylovelysnowflake @liyahrantssometimes @amara-mars @funperson21 @pixviee @kmarie06 @cdej6 @binniesbabe @salty-salts-stuff

a/n: sorry this one took so long! hope you enjoyed this chapter! I felt like Nicole needed some love.

#school spirits #milo manheim #school spirits season 2 #wally clark #split river high #charley school spirits #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim fanfiction #wally clark x reader #wally clark fanfiction #wally clark x you #school spirits x reader #school spirits fanfiction #nicole herrera #fem!reader

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devil-in-hiding · 6 months ago

Note

I had this idea last night and it’s been eating away at me since:

Childhood best friend!Simon who left when he joined the military. Cbf!Simon who, after finding his family murdered, disappears again -or so you think. Simon, who spends every night he’s in town at your place while you sleep. Who sees that you kept his old jumper, the one he gave you before he left. He sees how you hold it and cuddle it, holding it to your nose as if hoping it still smelled like him after all these years. He can’t give you a new one, but he can make this one smell like him again. When you’re out buying groceries, so much more often than usual, it seems, he takes the jumper and rubs in against himself; his armpits, the back of his neck, and then, against his cock and balls as the scent of you fills his nose.

You seem to sleep better that night.

Other things start to change too. He now starts to touch you as you sleep. Just brushing his hands against your hair. Feather-light touches that are almost impossible to feel.

He does darker things too. You are, thankfully, single. And he makes sure you stay that way. Your nice lotion gets an extra load of five of protein. Your blind dates mysteriously stop texting you back. You’re getting /frustrated/ which leads to a night with your vibe and dildo (much smaller than his, Simon notes. He’ll have to change that). Your little moans and whines make it almost impossible for him to not barge into your room and take you. But Simon Riley is nothing if not patient. When you finally fall asleep, one hand still clutching your dildo, he sneaks out.

Two weeks later, a mysterious package is at your door from a secret admirer. You don’t even notice the “clone a Willy” printed on the bottom of the silicone toy. What you do notice is how big it is and how much you want it to ruin your holes. You set to work right away, opening yourself up. Getting so frustrated that it doesn’t fully fit. All the while your secret admirer watches from your closet.

And when he does finally lay claim to you? It’s all roses and apologies.

He knocks on your door after a particularly grueling mission, bouquet of your favorite flowers and a teddy bear in hand.

“Simon?” You say, shock coloring your voice. “My Simon?”

“‘Ello, lovie,” he replies. Sheepishly smiling, he holds out the gifts.

“This is real? You’re really here?” You ask grabbing the flowers and teddy.

“‘M here,” he says, scared you might reject him after all this time. Not that it matters, but it would still hurt.

You drop the gifts and he braces for the rejection. What he didn’t plan on, was you wrapping your arms around him and sobbing into his chest. “Si, I missed you so much.” He leads you into your flat, you don’t wonder how he knows where your room is. He sits you on your bed and holds you while you cry.

He’s a perfect gentleman for the first few months of dating and rekindling your friendship. It’s not until you tell him one night after a few drinks too many, “you know, Si? I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids.”

“Did you now, lovie?”

“Still do,” you confess, eyes strangely clear despite the alcohol.

He doesn’t think when he finally kisses you. Falling into bed with you is easier than breathing.

Your breath hitches as you feel that familiar stretch when he enters you. But you don’t think about it. You don’t think what it means when he hits every spot that your secret admirer’s gift reaches.

Now he has you. And now he’s not letting go.

♠️

I’m clawing the fucking floor my scent kink has not recovered jeowkdkfoekskdkrkkwlfk

#simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod ghost

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yanderes-galore · 1 year ago

Note

can i request platonic yandere sukuna

I don't think Sukuna has a platonic bone in his body, but I thought of some funny/interesting ideas for this :) Short as I couldn't think of a lot of platonic Sukuna ideas-

Yandere! Platonic! Ryomen Sukuna

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Denial, Violence, Jealousy, Mentions of ownership, Forced companionship.

The idea is both amusing and a bit scary.

Sukuna is known for being sadistic and ruthless.

He's known to take what he wants and shows no sympathy towards others.

But here's the funny part...

He changes a bit with you.

Here's this great ancient curse user who cares for no one and only wishes to create chaos.

Yet he's so attached to this one Jujutsu Sorcerer who isn't even all that strong compared to him.

At first he tries to deny it, no... He doesn't care for you.

He doesn't care for anyone.

Despite what he says, he still manages to be there for you.

He's adamant towards you and others that he doesn't care.

Then he's saving you from some strong curse.

He acts very begrudging in his actions.

He acts like you're a nuisance and even rants to Yuji about how reckless you are.

He's accidentally showing he cares despite trying to deny it.

After all... He could just let you die.

But he can't bring himself to do that.

Most of his obsession with you is denial.

He just saves you to soothe himself.

He isn't very friendly... Yet he clearly cares despite his sharp words.

After all... If someone like Kenjaku or his lackeys touched you, how else do you explain the rage in Sukuna's eyes?

Most of the time Sukuna's obsession is "romantic" or "sadistic" in nature.

Although, in this concept he may think you have enough potential to keep him around you.

You may not want to be companions... But he's here now.

You get on his nerves yet also calm him.

It's strange.

Since you make him feel so odd he keeps you beside him.

In a way he feels you're his.

Due to the way you make him feel, he's decided he just has to take you in as his student.

It's interesting if you're friends with Yuji too, as Sukuna will often swap control or create a second mouth to speak with you.

You might as well all be "friends", right?

He's mocking when he calls you friends.

While he's rude and cruel, having him on your side can aid you.

He may not listen to you... But every fight you're a part of he just... Goes off.

He's still possessive and oddly protective with you, even if he's "platonic".

He follows you around while using Yuji and even offers "lessons".

They can be harsh... But it's something, right?

A platonic Sukuna still feels like he "owns" you.

It's just in a different way.

In this case, you are no pet, you're a student he intends to build in his image...

Which, in his eyes, ultimately makes you his to manipulate.

"What? You scared? Doll, I'm on your side! You're lucky I like you... If I didn't I wouldn't spare you just like the rest."

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna #platonic yandere

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wakasaz · 1 month ago

Text

Tanked & Tangled

𓆜 Pairing: Taiju Shiba x Reader

𓆜 Synopsis: A date with your best friends older brother

𓆜 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, oral, public sex, best friends older brother, Taiju is a warning of his own. I think that's everything

𓆜 A/N: Not proofread, possible spelling errors, I'm obsessing over Taiju atm

You had known the Shiba family since elementary school — since the days of scraped knees and juice boxes, of watching Taiju tower over the other boys even as a kid. Yuzuha had been your best friend for just as long, and with that came familiarity with her brothers. Hakkai was sweet. Taiju… wasn’t.

You never understood why your heart betrayed you in middle school. Why, despite his sharp words and iron fists, your gaze always found Taiju’s broad back as he walked ahead of you and Yuzuha. Why your stomach twisted when his eyes met yours— intense, unreadable, and dangerously addictive.

You never told anyone. Not Yuzuha, not even yourself out loud.

So when Taiju cornered you outside your apartment one evening, standing next to his bike like some sort of looming statue, you weren’t prepared.

“We’re going to the aquarium tomorrow. Be ready at 1.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Just turned, leather jacket shifting with the wind, and added, “Wear something warm. I’ll pick you up.” Then he left, leaving you with a pounding heart and trembling fingers.

The next day came in a blur.

The aquarium was quiet on weekdays, soft lights reflecting off tanks of blue, couples whispering, children laughing. But Taiju was silent. He moved slowly, hands shoved in his coat pockets, stopping often to watch the fish glide past. You saw something strange in him— calm, maybe even... wonder?

“They’re peaceful,” he said, pausing in front of the shark tank.

You blinked. “The sharks?”

He nodded. “They’re powerful. Doesn’t matter if the water’s calm or rough— they keep moving. Unbothered.” His voice was low. You watched his expression soften, lips slightly parted, lashes lowered.

You swallowed. “I didn’t expect you to be into aquariums.”

Taiju turned his head, one brow raising. “I’m not into everything I do violently.”

You looked away, shame creeping into your chest. You had judged him — maybe not out loud, but often in your thoughts.

He stepped closer, crowding your space. You looked up, heart thundering.

“You think I don’t see how you look at me?” he asked, voice near your ear.

“W-what—” you gasped

“I’ve liked you since middle school.” His hand brushed your jaw, firm but gentle. “You always looked at me like I was someone worth watching. Even when I was a bastard.”

“I never told anyone,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Not even Yuzuha. I didn’t want to hurt her.”

His gaze searched yours, serious and dark. “You didn’t hurt anyone.”

And then, slowly with the deep blue of the shark tank casting shadows across your skin— he kissed you.

It wasn’t rough like you expected. It was slow. Heated. His hands cradled your waist like you might shatter. You responded before your brain could catch up— gripping his jacket, heart blooming in your chest.

He pulled away just enough to press his forehead to yours.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured. “Got it?”

You nodded, dazed, eyes glazed over

“Good.” He kissed you again– this time deeper, letting you feel all the unspoken tension that had built for years.

He backed you up against the tank, your back hitting the cold surface causing you to gasp at the feeling of the cold glass. Taiju deepened the kiss more, pushing his tongue past your lips to explore your mouth, committing the taste of your to memory.

Your hands found itself in his hair, pulling on the multicolored strands making it messier than before.

His hand wandered from your waist down to your thighs where he lifted you with ease. Your legs wrapping around his waist, pushing his hips against you.

You moan into the kiss as his hands find your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. You grind against him when you feel him harden against you, in return he starts grinding into you– meeting your hips.

He breaks the kiss to start biting and sucking on your neck. You gasp when he finds your spot– he chuckles against your neck before dropping to his knees– he yanks your pants down while throwing your legs over his shoulders– your back against the glass of the aquarium.

He licks up your covered cunt before pushing your panties to the side and devouring you like it's his last meal. He licks and sucks anywhere he can reach. His tongue flicks your clit before he takes it in his mouth and sucks.

Soon he adds a finger finger fucking you before adding a second and curling them against that sport that makes you see stars. He continues to lick and suck as he thrusts his fingers into you.

You pull on his hair moaning his name

“T-Tai!"

He smirks against you. Changing him speed from fast to slow back to fast. You throw your head back hitting the glass as you come undone his tongue and fingers.

Taiju continues to lick as you ride out your high before standing– your legs around his waist against. He undoes his pants pulling out his cock pushing it against you and thrusting the tip hitting your clit making you jump.

He pushes into you with a groan, clenching his teeth at how tight you are. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan. He bottoms out and waits a few seconds letting you adjust to his size before he starts thrusting slowly then speeding up.

The aquarium is filled with the sounds of both your moans and skin slapping. His hand is around your neck adding enough pressure to make you gasp. He pulls you into a heated kiss, it's all tongue and teeth. He fucks you rough against the glass.

You can feel yourself about to cum again. Taijus hand finds your clit and rubs. You moan his name so loud he slams his other hand against your mouth to quiet you from anyone hearing. Your eyes cross and your heads thrown back as you ride out your second high–legs twitching around his waist.

It doesn't take Taiju long to finish as well. Pushing deep into you before cumming– filling you up with a groan of your name.

You both stand there panting, catching your breath before he pulls out. You feel his cum start to run down your leg but Taiju pushes it back in with his fingers telling you not to waist any of it.

He helps you redress– fixing his clothes as well before he kisses your forehead and takes your hand intertwining your fingers.

“So, jellyfish next?” He asks, smiling down at you.

Maybe Taiju Shiba wasn’t as simple as violence and scars. Maybe, beneath it all, he was like a shark— always moving forward, drawn to what made him feel alive.

And right now, that was you.

#im obsessing over taiju #tokyo revengers #taiju shiba x y/n #taiju shiba smut #taiju shiba x reader #tokyo revengers taiju #taiju shiba #tokyo revengers taiju shiba x reader #tokyo revengers x yn #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #♡~mazie is talking~♡

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chackyxyooj · 2 months ago

Text

Vol. 3 - Craving Your Love: Sad Girl Sex

→ “Sleepin’ with somebody makes nothing better, just ignites my loneliness.”

╭──────────.★..─╮

Description: Garroth doesn’t invite people over with the express intent to sleep with them. That being said, he’s not sure how he ended up sleeping with you but he’s not one to complain. || ONESHOT, SMUT (Size Difference, Overstimulation, M!SoftDom)

Included: MS!Garroth X Reader

WC: 2.5k

CW: Strong Sexual Themes | NSFW

One Night Masterlist

╰─..★.──────────╯

Sexual Content Ahead: If uncomfortable with this type of content, please DNI! - Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Are you… ah…” Garroth can feel himself melting into your touch. The hand you hold against his face is so warm. So calming. It almost makes him forget that his cock is buried deep inside of you. Almost, but not quite. “I can’t think straight. That’s how good you’re making me feel.”

As Garroth admires your flushed expression, he can’t help but wonder how things ended up this way. He’d be doing you a huge disfavour if he didn’t admit to how beautifully captivating you are, but he’d be doing himself a disfavour by saying he knew what he was doing. It’s not like the boy is completely clueless, he’s had sex before, but he’s never had a one night stand.

Until tonight, it seems.

It isn’t very often that a group of young adults partake in a game of seven minutes in heaven - not in Garroth’s opinion, anyway. That kind of thing is usually reserved for teenagers and college-goers, not for something like a block party.

Target demographic aside, Garroth found it strange that such a game would get started at a time like this. He found it even stranger that his group of friends would set up this kind of game, much less the fact that he found himself being shoved into a dark closet without his consent. As it goes, it was a similar story on your side, too.

Despite what many outsiders might assume, you and Garroth decided to skip the kissing and the awkward silence to partake in some pleasant small talk instead. It was one of the best decisions Garroth has ever made.

To be honest, Garroth isn’t sure how he hadn’t met you earlier! Someone like you, who he could only think to describe using compliments, was a genuine joy to be around. He was thrilled that you decided to stick around and chat after the two of you were released from the confines of the closet - even more so when you accepted his offer to walk home together.

It came as a surprise to Garroth that, despite meeting you at a block party, you didn’t, in fact, live on the block. You only came clean with this information after the two of you had walked around the entire block for the third consecutive time.

At first you were too embarrassed to admit that the person who promised to be your host had left earlier in the night, but time has a funny way of bringing out the truth. An early exit isn’t usually a problem but you were 90% certain that your host was engaging in some fun you weren’t keen on overhearing.

Being the person he is, Garroth obviously offered to let you stay at his place. Sure, the boy may have two roommates but his door has a lock!

Garroth’s grip on the bedsheets tightens as he attempts to maintain his self-control. As much as he wants to pull himself close to you, he doesn’t dare lay his hands on you - lest the boy accidentally end up hurting you. He’s already sizably larger than you, not to mention his abnormal strength.

But oh, how good he feels every time he sinks deep into your cunt. Feeling you around his length is like nothing he’s ever known. It’s addictive; so very damn addictive.

Your hand slips from Garroth’s face as you gingerly bite down on the side of your hand. Every thrust of the boy’s hips causes another quiet sound to slip past your lips. It feels good - you feel good - but you can’t help but feel like the boy is not enjoying himself quite as much as you are. It’s as though every movement he makes is made in an effort not to go too far.

You turn your gaze up to the boy. His expression looks tense and sweat lines his hairline. You try to open your mouth to speak but the quiet, involuntary moans choke out the words you want to say.

Embarrassed, you turn your head and tuck your face into the pillow.

Having your eyes closed seems to make the boy’s hesitance all the more clear. It almost feels like he’s faltering before every move he makes. Even after getting this far, you can’t help but fear the worst.

You’ll be the first to admit that getting thrown into the closet with the cute blonde was the best thing that could’ve happened to you, but even that was something that he didn’t have much choice in. He offered you a place to stay since your friend was nowhere to be seen, but it never seemed like he had intentions to sleep with you. It was only after you suggested it that he went along. Was he just trying to spare your feelings? Is the boy not actually enjoying himself?

Despite the flaring uncertainty that festers in your stomach, you put your hand against the boy’s chest and give him a small shove. “W-wait.”

Upon hearing your request, Garroth stops himself immediately. Has he done something wrong? He certainly hopes not. If the look on your face is anything to go off of then, well, it’s probably best that he just asks you straight up. “Are you okay?” He asks, noticing how you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just that…”

Despite the ache and desire to continue, Garroth quickly pulls away. “I’m so, so sorry! I hurt you, didn’t I? Good Irene, I should’ve been more careful-”

“No, that’s not it at all!” You assure the boy. You don’t try to pull him back in, but you do sit up beside him. “I just… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Me?” Garroth repeats, confused. “I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I don’t know. I mean… it just seemed like you were…” Garroth watches as you hide your expression behind your hands. Worry immediately sets in but he prevents himself from reaching forward. After a deep breath, you continue. “It seemed like you weren’t really enjoying yourself. Or like, it feels like you’re holding back. Did I…? Is this too much?”

It hadn’t even occurred to Garroth that you might be picking up on his deliberate attempts to stop himself from accidentally squishing you. It comes as an even bigger surprise that his actions might be interpreted as reluctance.

Garroth is stunned. It’s true that you were the one who initiated, but that hardly means that Garroth was doing this out of obligation! Shouldn’t that be obvious?

“You have nothing to worry about!” Garroth insists. “I’m not just going through the motions. Far from it!” He finishes and gently holds your hand, caressing the skin with his thumb before leaning down to place a kiss against your fingers. It’s affectionate - far more affectionate than one might expect from something like a one night stand - but for Garroth, it feels natural.

He places another kiss against the palm of your hand, then another on your wrist. His lips keep traveling further up your arm until his kisses have reached the base of your neck.

What you think will lead to hesitation surprisingly provides none. There’s no semblance of hesitance as the boy turns your face and presses a kiss upon your lips. It’s a slow and cherished kiss; as if this will be the only time he’ll ever get to kiss you. Something that, to be fair, might not be inherently wrong.

While your first instinct was to pull away from the kiss, the boy quickly chases your lips with his own. One of his hands slips around your waist and the other glides across the top of your thigh. You nearly lose yourself in the moment when your companion suddenly pulls away.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks, his eyes peering up at you with a quiet but desperate plea.

Despite how the words sit right on your tongue, you’re too bashful to want to admit what’s painfully obvious. Beneath the boy’s gaze you can only nod at his request; let alone how you can hardly manage to hold his gaze at all.

With that simple reply, Garroth gains confidence.

Garroth takes his time with you. He carefully guides you back against the bed while whispering sweet words of affirmation the whole time. Once your head is against the pillow, Garroth dips down and peppers kisses against your neck and chest. A girl like you deserves to be pampered.

You’re beautiful. You’re so gosh dang beautiful! Garroth can’t get enough. From your chest down to your hips, Garroth is tempted to kiss every single inch of skin. He knows that’s not reasonable but he can’t help but love the way you shudder beneath every kiss. Your every reaction fuels his desires, to keep kissing until he’s satisfied, but Garroth knows not to keep a lady like yourself waiting for too long.

Garroth pulls away from you and sits between your ankles. He places his hands on the inside of your knees and, while lowering himself onto his stomach, carefully pushes your legs apart. Once he’s comfortably settled, Garroth presses a kiss just above your clit.

With no notable reaction from the action, Garroth begins to use his tongue against your clit. At first he tries to get a good rhythm but that quickly becomes a challenge when your hips start to move out of time with his gentle strokes. The boy is still quite adamant about not hurting you, but that doesn’t mean he won’t touch you.

The blonde is quick to wrap his arms around your thighs and pull your cunt flush against his face. He uses your attempts to grind as a guide to where you desire his touch the most. It isn’t long before the boy finds the perfect way to tease your clit.

Despite the short time he’s known you, Garroth can easily see himself getting addicted to you. From your fingers tangled in his hair to your increasingly needy movements, Garroth can only hope that he’s helping to bring you to your climax. If the way you roll your hips is anything to go off of, you’re getting really close. He hadn’t thought about it before, but the image of you reaching your climax suddenly floods his mind.

To see you arching off the bed; hear your voice consumed by pleasure; feel you pulling him in as you ride out your orgasm; it’s all Garroth can think about. He’s not sure if he should be thinking about you in such a blatantly dirty way, but when his face was literally between your legs he figured it wasn’t a problem.

Garroth is so enthralled by the notion of making you cum that he fails to realise that you do, in fact, reach your climax. Instead, he keeps going.

While you’re trying to come down from your high, your companion’s efforts keep you from coming down. The feeling is nearly as excruciating as it is pleasurable. A part of you tries to pull away, but another urges you to stay right where you are.

With a mind muddled with pleasure and desire, you try to get the boy’s attention through other means. At first you try tugging on his hair but his grip on you grows tighter and his pace becomes more relentless. You can’t even begin to get his attention with your words - your every attempt to speak is swallowed up by your breathless pants and moans.

Things really come to a head when the boy decides to gently push two of his fingers into your cunt. What you hopped was a moment to breathe was nothing but the boy’s efforts to keep you feeling good. To his credit, you were feeling good - too good.

Right on the precipice of giving in to your desires, a desperate plea slips from your lips.

Hearing you whine so loudly causes Garroth’s attention to snap over to you. To his surprise, you have your face buried between your arm and the pillow.

Garroth climbs over your body in an instant. He uses one of his arms to hold himself up while the other gently caresses the side of your face. “H-hey, are you okay? Was I too rough with you?” Garroth tries to get you to look at him but you keep your gaze hidden.

A mix of guilt and worry pools in Garroth’s stomach. He’s about to pull away when you quietly whisper something.

Garroth leans closer on instinct but he still can’t make out what you’re saying. Against his better judgement, Garroth gently pries your face out of your hands and forces you to meet his gaze. He wasn’t sure what he’d find when you looked up at him, but gosh. You’re so much prettier than he first realized.

“Geeze…” You shy away from the boy’s gaze. “Are you really gonna make me ask you again?”

Garroth suddenly clues into the situation and realises that you’re subtly grinding against the length of his cock. He barely has the chance to give you his reply before he’s bottomed out inside of you.

You grasp the boy’s arms tightly, almost desperately, as he starts to pull out. You’re almost embarrassed when a moan slips from your lips. Your companion, however, seems more than delighted to catch the quiet sound of pleasure.

You can feel the bed shift beneath you as the boy slowly pushes his length back into you. You’re still pretty sensitive from everything before so adding this on top is really pushing you to your limit. It’s no wonder why, when the thrusts of the blonde’s hips become more consistent, you can hardly hold back.

You can tell from the way your companion’s thrusts falter that he’s already really close to his climax. For a moment you think he might be holding back, but that’s when he suddenly pulls away. You open your eyes just in time to see the boy cumming on your stomach.

You’re surprised, but not because of anything your companion did. Rather, you’re surprised that the first thing he does is reach for his discarded shirt and clean you up - without climbing off the bed, no less. It isn’t long before you find yourself watching the boy in a mix of amusement and awe. You don’t suppose it’s very odd that the boy who was so afraid to hurt you was such a gentle caretaker.

When all is said and done, the boy is lying down beside you with a look that’s akin to affection. It’s flattering, to be sure, but not quite what one would expect from a night such as this.

“You’re so beautiful.”

If your face wasn’t flushed before, it was about to be. “Y-you think so?” You finally manage to stammer out. “I’m not one to toot my own horn, but thanks.” You start to sit up but feel compelled to stop when the boy starts to follow.

The boy, whether knowingly or not, breathes a sigh in relief when you stop mid-way. No matter how hard you try, you can’t help but find him ever-so endearing. “I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but, do you want to…?” He smiles at you ever so gently, asking you to stay with nothing but his open arms.

And you, of course, smile back.

#mystreet x reader #one night stand #oneshot #smut #garroth #garroth ro'meave #garroth x reader #garroth ro'meave x reader

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mbruben-stein · 1 year ago

Note

Alphabet swf for tmnt 2012 please

TMNT 2012 SFW Alphabet: Leonardo.

A/N: You weren't perfect on which TMNT Character to write, so I'm doing Leo, which I hope is okay with you. Also, I only write one character per alphabet SWF if it's the full list. Now, if you're picking a list of characters and only a few letters from the SFW alphabet, then yes, I would have done all four of them.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Leo tends to be more reserved in outwardly expressing affection, as he tries to maintain a serious leader-like demeanor. However, with someone he is truly close to and comfortable with, he shows his caring side through thoughtful gestures and quality time together. Leo is attentive and makes an effort to remember little details about his partner's interests and preferences. He enjoys having deep conversations and bonding over shared nerdy hobbies like sci-fi shows. While not extremely physically affectionate in public, in private Leo is tender, giving warm hugs, gentle caresses, and loving looks. His affection comes through in the way he is supportive, protective, and willing to make sacrifices for his loved one's wellbeing. Leo may not be the most vocal about his feelings, but his devotion and commitment speak volumes.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As a best friend, Leo would be extremely loyal, protective, and always there to lend an ear or help out however he can. The friendship would likely start with him coming to your aid in some situation where you really needed help. Despite being focused on his ninjutsu training, Leo has a big heart and would be drawn to befriend someone he sees struggling or in need of assistance. Once he commits to the friendship, he's all in - willing to put himself in harm's way for your wellbeing. Leo can be a bit overbearing at times with his "big brother" tendency to want to guide and teach. But he means well, and you'd have an unwavering ally and confidant in him. His nerdiness about shows like Space Heroes might initially seem strange, but you'd come to find his passion for heroic ideals admirable and endearing.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Leo tends to be a bit reserved when it comes to physical affection, but he cherishes quiet, intimate moments to cuddle with his significant other. He likes being the "big spoon" and holding his partner close, feeling protective yet relaxed in their embrace. Leo enjoys running his fingers gently through their hair or tracing soothing patterns on their back as they snuggle. Though serious by nature, he lets his guard down completely when cuddling, nuzzling his face against theirs and peppering soft kisses on their cheeks or forehead. Leo's cuddles are tender, his grip secure yet gentle, providing a sense of safety and comfort as the two enjoy each other's warmth and company in these blissful moments.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

While Leo is deeply committed to his role as the leader and protector of his brothers, there is a part of him that longs for a more settled life outside of constant battles and vigilantism. He admires the idea of having a place to call his own, where he can find peace and stability. However, his sense of duty and responsibility often overshadows his personal desires. When it comes to cooking and cleaning, Leo is surprisingly skilled, having learned the importance of organization and taking care of their living space from Master Splinter. He finds solace in the routine of preparing meals for his brothers and maintaining a clean environment, as it allows him to channel his disciplined nature into practical tasks that benefit his family.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Leo had to break up with his significant other, he would likely approach it with maturity and sensitivity, yet also with a sense of honor and directness that reflects his disciplined nature. He would likely want to have an open and honest conversation, expressing his feelings and reasons for the decision with clarity and respect. As the leader, Leo values clear communication, so he would aim to be direct without being unnecessarily harsh. At the same time, his protective instincts might make it difficult for him to fully open up about the reasons behind the breakup if he felt it could deeply hurt his partner. Despite his seriousness, Leo has a tendency to be idealistic, so the breakup might stem from a realization that the relationship was not living up to his romantic expectations or vision of the perfect partnership. His desire to emulate heroic archetypes could also play a role, perhaps feeling that the relationship was holding him back from fully embodying the qualities he admires. Ultimately, while the conversation would likely be difficult, Leo would strive to handle the breakup with grace, empathy, and a desire to minimize unnecessary pain or conflict, reflecting his role as a wise and caring leader.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Leo takes commitment very seriously, viewing it as a profound duty and responsibility. As a leader, he understands the importance of honoring one's vows and obligations. When it comes to marriage, Leo would want to take things slowly and ensure he is fully ready before making that lifelong commitment. He is a bit of a romantic at heart, inspired by the heroic ideals he sees in "Space Heroes", but he's also pragmatic. Leo would likely want to be financially stable, have a clear purpose and path forward, and be absolutely certain about his partner before proposing marriage. Once married, he would be fiercely loyal and devoted, viewing it as his role to provide and protect his family unit. While not opposed to marriage, Leo would carefully weigh the decision rather than rushing into it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Leo is incredibly gentle, both physically and emotionally, with his s/o. Despite his intense ninja training and battle-hardened skills, he has an incredibly soft side reserved only for his loved one. Physically, his touches are feather-light, his embraces tender and protective. He's always mindful of his strength, never wanting to inadvertently hurt his partner. Emotionally, Leo showers his s/o with patience, understanding, and unwavering support. He's an attentive listener, validating their feelings without judgment. His words are carefully chosen to soothe and uplift. Leo's protective nature extends to creating a safe emotional space where his s/o can be vulnerable without fear. With his maturity and wisdom, he's able to de-escalate conflicts and provide reassuring calm in turbulent moments. Leo's gentle nature nurtures a deep intimacy in the relationship.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

When it comes to hugs, Leo is not one to shy away from them, especially with his significant other. He finds comfort and solace in their warm embrace, allowing himself to momentarily shed the weight of responsibility he carries as the leader of the team. Leo's hugs are firm and enveloping, conveying a sense of security and protection. He holds his partner close, savoring the connection and the opportunity to express his affection without words. While Leo may not initiate hugs as frequently as his more outgoing brothers, he certainly welcomes and reciprocates them wholeheartedly. In those tender moments, the usually guarded leader lets his walls down, revealing a softer side that only his significant other gets to witness. Leo's hugs are a reminder of the depth of his feelings and his ability to be both a strong protector and a gentle, loving partner.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Leo's dedication to his role as leader and his desire to protect his siblings would likely make him cautious about developing romantic feelings. However, once he lets his guard down and allows himself to be vulnerable with someone he truly cares for, his passionate nature could lead to him expressing his love relatively quickly. In a relationship with his significant other, Leo would initially try to maintain a level of professionalism and not rush into things. But as the bond deepens and he witnesses their loyalty, strength, and ability to support him, his feelings would intensify rapidly. Leo's romantic side, usually overshadowed by his responsibilities as a leader, would emerge. He might surprise his partner by declaring his love wholeheartedly, albeit accompanied by his characteristic cheesy one-liners and attempts to emulate his beloved "Space Heroes" characters. While his brothers might tease him, Leo would be unfazed, secure in his love for his significant other and their acceptance of his quirks.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Leo's jealousy would stem from his deep care and protective nature towards his significant other. While generally mature and level-headed, the thought of someone else vying for their affection or potentially endangering their well-being would bring out a more possessive side in him. His jealousy would manifest through subtle actions - narrowed eyes tracking any perceived threat, a tightening jaw, and a shift in his body language to become more shielding of his partner. Vocally, he might make thinly-veiled comments about the other person's intentions or attempt to steer his significant other away from the situation. However, Leo would be conscious of not overstepping boundaries or appearing controlling. If the jealousy became overwhelming, he would likely withdraw to meditate and regain his composure, later having an open discussion with his partner to reassure himself and clear the air. Ultimately, his jealousy would be a temporary lapse fueled by his desire to safeguard what he holds dear.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Leo tends to be quite passionate yet tender when kissing his significant other. He savors every moment, wanting to express his deep feelings through the intimacy of a kiss. Leo particularly loves peppering gentle kisses along his partner's jawline and neck, finding those areas incredibly alluring. He'll often nuzzle his face against theirs before capturing their lips in a soulful kiss, trying to convey all the affection and adoration he holds for them. In return, Leo melts when his significant other plants soft kisses on his cheeks and forehead - those simple yet loving gestures make his heart swell. Though he maintains a serious demeanor much of the time, Leo's kisses reveal his profound capacity for tenderness and devotion to the one he loves.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Leo's serious and disciplined nature often softens around children. While he maintains his role as a protective older brother figure, he exhibits a gentle patience when interacting with kids. His time spent watching "Space Heroes" allows him to connect with their sense of wonder and imagination. The idea of having his own children one day both excites and daunts Leo. On one hand, he relishes the opportunity to nurture and guide the next generation, imparting wisdom much like his mentor Splinter. However, his protective instincts also make him wary of the immense responsibility of parenthood. Leo wants to ensure he can provide a safe, structured environment for raising highly-skilled ninja kids. Despite his uncertainties, the thought of starting a family with his significant other fills him with a sense of purpose beyond his role as a leader of the turtles.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Leo are a tranquil, almost meditative experience. He rises before the sun, carefully rolling out of bed so as not to disturb his sleeping partner. After a light workout and meditation session, Leo returns to prepare a healthy breakfast for them both. As his significant other stirs awake, they are greeted by the aroma of fresh tea and Leo's warm smile. He insists they start the day with a zen moment together, side-by-side on the mat, centering their minds before the inevitable chaos of the day's missions unfolds. Though his disciplined routine may seem rigid to some, Leo's mornings with his loved one are imbued with tenderness, respect for ancient traditions, and an unshakable devotion to strengthening the spiritual bond between two warriors' hearts.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights spent with Leo are always a mix of quiet quality time and geeky adventures. After a day of intense training or battles against the Foot Clan, Leo loves to unwind by cuddling up with his loved one on the couch to rewatch favorite episodes of "Space Heroes." He can't resist quoting the cheesy heroic lines, much to his partner's amusement. But his significant other also admires Leo's real-life heroism and leadership. Sometimes they'll play act battle scenarios, with Leo directing the strategy before dissolving into laughter at their silliness. Other evenings are spent stargazing on the rooftops, as Leo points out constellations and shares his deep thoughts about honor, courage and protecting his family and city. With his loved one by his side, Leo can truly relax and be his authentic, nerdy yet noble self.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

When it comes to Leo revealing things about himself in a romantic relationship, he would likely take a gradual approach. As someone who values discipline, maturity, and responsibility, Leo would want to build trust and intimacy with his significant other over time before fully opening up. Initially, Leo might share surface-level details about his interests, like his fondness for the show "Space Heroes" and his desire to emulate heroic qualities. However, he would likely hold back on delving too deeply into his personal struggles, insecurities, or vulnerabilities until he feels a strong emotional connection and senses that his partner is someone he can truly confide in. As the relationship progresses and Leo becomes more comfortable, he would gradually reveal more about his role as the leader of the Turtles, the weight of responsibility he carries, and the challenges he faces in maintaining harmony within the team, especially with his sibling rivalry with Raphael. He might also open up about his desire for perfection and the pressures he puts on himself to be an exemplary leader and role model. Rather than an all-at-once revelation, Leo would likely share these deeper aspects of himself in layers, gauging his partner's reactions and building trust along the way. Once he truly feels understood and accepted, Leo would be more likely to fully expose his innermost thoughts, fears, and struggles, seeking not just a romantic partner but also a confidant and source of emotional support.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Leo is usually calm, collected, and level-headed, especially when compared to his more hotheaded brother Raphael. However, his significant other has seen that Leo can get frustrated and angry at times, particularly when his brothers don't listen to his orders during missions or when he feels he has failed as a leader. With his partner though, Leo lets his guard down more. He may get momentarily annoyed if teased about his love for Space Heroes or if his strategies are questioned, but a reassuring touch from his loved one can quickly diffuse any flare of temper. Leo's partner knows he has a tendency to be hard on himself, so they are always ready with kind words and reminders that he's doing his best to lead the team. While Leo has an intense personality, his significant other's patience and understanding helps him work through frustrations in a healthy way.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

When it comes to his significant other (s/o), Leo's attention to detail and ability to remember are quite remarkable. As someone who prides himself on being disciplined and responsible, he would make a conscious effort to remember every little detail about his partner that they share with him. Leo is the type of person who would actively listen and pay close attention whenever his s/o talks about their interests, aspirations, or even casual anecdotes from their day. He would commit these details to memory, not just because he cares deeply for his partner, but also because he understands the importance of being attentive and considerate. With his analytical mind and his tendency to pick up on subtleties, Leo would likely remember small things like his s/o's favorite color, their preferred type of music, or the stories they shared about their childhood. He would also take note of their likes, dislikes, and any important dates or events that hold significance for them. While Leo may occasionally forget a minor detail here and there, especially if it was mentioned in passing, he would make a conscious effort to retain as much information as possible about his significant other. His ability to remember and cherish these details would likely strengthen their bond and make his s/o feel valued and appreciated.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Leo's favorite moment with his significant other is when they had their first real heart-to-heart talk, opening up about their hopes, fears, and what drives them. Despite his bravado as a leader, Leo deeply values emotional vulnerability and being able to share his true self with someone he loves. On that night, as they sat together gazing at the city skyline, Leo felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy unlike anything he'd experienced before. His partner listened intently without judgment, offering caring reassurance when Leo expressed his occasional self-doubts about being a good leader. In return, Leo provided a supportive shoulder as his loved one courageously revealed their own insecurities. From that point on, Leo knew he could trust this person wholeheartedly, and it solidified his commitment to the relationship in a way little else could.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Leo would be incredibly protective of his significant other, given his strong sense of responsibility and his deep care for those close to him. He would go to great lengths to ensure their safety and well-being, always remaining vigilant and ready to defend them from any potential harm. Leo's protective nature would manifest in various ways. He would likely insist on accompanying his partner whenever they venture out, keeping a watchful eye and being prepared to jump into action if necessary. He would also make sure their living spaces are secure, checking for vulnerabilities and taking measures to fortify them. Additionally, Leo would encourage his partner to learn self-defense techniques, not only for their own protection but also because he values discipline and preparedness. He would take great pride in being their mentor, patiently guiding them through training sessions and ensuring they can handle themselves in difficult situations. In return, Leo would deeply appreciate his partner's efforts to protect him as well. While he may initially resist the idea of needing protection, he would ultimately find comfort in knowing his loved one has his back. Their mutual commitment to safeguarding each other would strengthen their bond and reinforce the trust and respect they share.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Leo would put a tremendous amount of effort into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks when it comes to his significant other. Being the disciplined and responsible leader that he is, Leo would approach his relationship with the same dedication and commitment he shows towards his duties as the leader of the Turtles. For dates and anniversaries, Leo would meticulously plan every detail, from researching the perfect romantic location to carefully selecting meaningful gifts that reflect his deep understanding and appreciation for his partner. He would likely incorporate elements from his beloved "Space Heroes" show, adding a touch of his geeky charm to make the occasion truly unique and special. In everyday tasks, Leo would be attentive and considerate, always striving to make his significant other feel valued and supported. Whether it's helping with chores, offering a listening ear, or simply being present and engaged, Leo would put forth his full effort to be the best partner he can be. His perfectionist tendencies might sometimes lead him to overthink or stress over getting every detail just right, but his genuine care and affection for his significant other would shine through, making every gesture, no matter how small, a heartfelt expression of his love and commitment.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Leo is fiercely loyal and protective of his significant other, always putting their needs and safety first. However, his dedication to being a responsible leader often means he has trouble separating his roles, treating his partner more like a subordinate at times rather than an equal. His bad habit of constantly trying to emulate his fictional hero, Captain Ryan, can also grate on his partner's nerves. Despite his best intentions, Leo's tendencies to be overbearing, give too many unsolicited heroic speeches, and prioritize his duties over quality time together sometimes strain the relationship. His significant other loves his noble spirit but wishes he could loosen up more and be present in the moment instead of constantly playing the role of the wise leader. Still, they admire Leo's unwavering commitment to doing the right thing and support him, even when his heroic antics become a bit much.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

While Leo is dedicated to his ninjutsu training and being a responsible leader, he can't help but be a bit vain when it comes to his looks, especially around his significant other. He spends a little extra time making sure his mask is tied perfectly and his gear looks sharp before going out. Leo likes when his partner admires his toned physique that he works hard to maintain. However, his S/O finds Leo's concern over his appearance endearing rather than overbearing. They reassure him that he looks great no matter what and that his most attractive qualities are his bravery, loyalty, and caring nature as a leader and partner. With their support, Leo learns to not get too hung up on superficial looks and focuses more on being the best version of himself inside and out.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Leo deeply values his relationship with his s/o, who grounds him and provides emotional support amidst the pressures of leadership. While he tries to maintain a stoic front as the leader of the team, Leo's s/o sees his vulnerabilities and self-doubts. With them, he can let his guard down and find solace, comfort, and reassurance. His s/o reminds him not to be too hard on himself and encourages him to maintain balance in his life. Leo feels his s/o completes him – their unwavering belief in him bolsters his confidence, and their calming presence helps him stay centered. Without his s/o, Leo would likely feel incomplete, lacking that vital emotional anchor and source of unconditional acceptance that allows him to be his true self away from the weight of his responsibilities.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Leo sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and steady as he meditated. His mind was clear, focused solely on finding his inner peace and balance. Quietly, his s/o entered the room, smiling fondly at the sight of Leo in such a serene state. They admired how the soft light played across his green features, accentuating the strength in his jaw and the gentleness in his expression. Unable to resist, they padded over and knelt down beside him. Leaning in close, they placed a tender kiss on Leo's forehead, letting their lips linger for a moment. Leo's eyes fluttered open, surprised but meeting his s/o's loving gaze with a warm smile. Without a word, he reached out and pulled them into a soft embrace, holding them close as the world around them seemed to melt away. In that moment, there was only the two of them, connected by the powerful bond they shared. Leo's usual seriousness gave way to pure contentment as he basked in the affection of the one who held his heart.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Leo values discipline, focus, and responsibility, so he likely wouldn't appreciate recklessness, laziness, or a lack of commitment in a partner. As a dedicated leader, he may find it frustrating if his significant other is overly carefree or dismissive of rules and duties. Leo's protective nature means he probably wouldn't like someone who constantly puts themselves in harm's way or makes impulsive decisions without considering the consequences. While he appreciates his siblings' unique qualities, Leo's more serious demeanor could clash with a partner who is excessively goofy or immature. Additionally, his love for "Space Heroes" and desire for heroism might make him uncomfortable with someone who mocks his interests or fails to understand his values of honor and justice. Overall, Leo likely seeks a partner who shares his dedication, maturity, and sense of responsibility, while still balancing it with compassion and the ability to occasionally have fun.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Despite his disciplined nature, Leo is actually a restless sleeper when sharing a bed with his partner. He tosses and turns frequently throughout the night, often kicking off the covers or stealing them entirely. His ninja senses remain heightened even in slumber, causing him to startle awake at the slightest noise or movement. However, having his significant other by his side helps soothe Leo's active mind. He finds comfort in their warmth and steady breathing beside him. If they move closer and gently embrace him, it grounds Leo and allows him to sink into a more peaceful, undisturbed sleep. In the morning, he wakes refreshed, appreciating how his loved one's presence centered him through the night.

#tmnt 2012 leo #TMNT #TMNT 2012 #TMNT x reader #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt 2012 headcanons #leonardo x reader #tmnt leonardo #leonardo headcanons #leo x reader #leo headcanons

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heliads · 2 years ago

Text

Ink Stains

Moving from Amity to Dauntless was quite the lifestyle change. Still, nothing rocks your boat more than meeting Eric Coulter for the first time, especially when he seems to like you more than he should.

masterlist

Creativity does not flourish much in Dauntless, nor art for that matter. It is strange, then, that you, so fully borne of both, would choose this bloody faction as opposed to any other. Your birth faction, Amity, is better suited to your temperament and interests, but you had hardly realized that when you underwent the Choosing Ceremony. All of us must leave our homes when we grow up, and only very few can return.

Dauntless seemed like the furthest place you could run, so of course that was the one you chose. You missed it later, only after loathing it, blaming it for your troubles, and finally admitting that it might have been a good home to you, but only after far too long.

Sometimes, you think that’s why the city decided to force its inhabitants to choose their home faction when they’re so young. At that age, all you want to do is escape, so you pick something strange and foreign, a faction that your family would hate so you could fight back against them. When the dust clears and you realize that the past was not so terrible after all, you are in the middle of a strange place with no way of returning, so you have no choice but to fight to stay there.

It would instill a truly fascinating sense of dedication in its transfers, to say the least. Or perhaps no one is like that at all, and it is just that you have made a mistake with no way to fix it. Maybe you should have stayed in Amity after all, been content with familiar nothingness and learned to fake your smiles at least as well as your mother, or save your anger for when no one can see it, like your father.

You don’t think you were meant for Amity, though, not really. It vexed you to no end, the simplicity of it all. You did enjoy the painting, the artists that sprung up in every corner, common as dandelions, but that wasn’t the end of it. The rules were chafing yet vague, the expectations ever-changing. It should have come as no surprise that you would leave.

Besides, you did well in Dauntless initiation, to the great surprise of just about everyone there. They saw your brightly colored clothes when you leapt from the roof, but soon enough you blended in with the lot of them and people would double take when you told them you hadn’t been born in Dauntless proper. The thought that you could be from Amity of all places was insane, and had it not been for the fact that you still remember the waving gold of the fields, the high flying birds that soared above your head, you would have believed it as little as your new friends.

Despite your best attempts to immediately separate yourself from your former faction, you couldn’t shake the memories completely. That’s why you didn’t shoot for one of the top jobs or security positions. Those were snapped up by the really good kids, the ones who aren’t just not carefree but genuinely heartless.

You ended up taking a position among the ranks of tattoo artists and quickly soared to the top. Amity had taught you clarity and control in your art, and soon you were known for your original designs. More often than not, Dauntless looking for a new pattern would ask you to draw something directly as opposed to just using one of the countless templates already printed out.

It gives them a sense of originality, for one thing. No one tattoo is ever the same when it comes to your works. It saves members of the faction from the embarrassing experience of showing off a new tattoo just to see the guy across from you roll up his sleeve to reveal the exact same thing.

Soon enough, your name has spread far and wide across Dauntless, and you get more and more customers by the day. That’s how you know that you ended up choosing the right faction and way of life after all, and it’s also how you meet Eric Coulter for the first time.

Eric is somewhat of a mixed bag. He only graduated from initiation a year or so before you, so he didn’t lead your training when you first joined the faction. You’ve heard he’s a total killer, both in the fighting ring and at every other moment of the day, so you were more than a little uneasy when he first darkened the door of your shop.

You’re not really sure what you expected when he showed up in the beginning. That he’d yell at you, maybe, like you’d heard in whispers. Apparently he’d go off on anyone if he felt the need– someone taking the wrong water glass in the mess hall, or an idiot trainee who didn’t get ready in time– or he could have just been there to complain about some failed regulation you didn’t know about.

Instead, he was nice, actually, which was somehow even more unsettling than if he’d just been the harsh training leader he is to everyone else. He’d spent a lot of time admiring your works, even offering up a rare compliment here and there. At last, he’d decided on an initial design, and taken a seat on your chair.

Most clients talk at least a little while you’re tattooing them. New initiates usually rattle off their difficulties, grateful for an ear that won’t judge them or try to use their weaknesses to gain a position or two in the rankings. Experienced Dauntless sometimes swap gossip or discuss various pieces of information they’ve heard from contacts in other factions. Others just stay silent the whole time, thinking through ideas they’ll barely even hint at to you.

One of your friends has tattooed Eric before, and they told you he’d been absolutely icy the whole appointment, hardly even saying a word except to point out which tattoo he wanted. Maybe he’d just had a bad day then, because you and Eric actually end up talking the entire time.

He complains about the initiates being unable to so much as tie their shoes without needing his directions, and laughs when you counter his stories with what you’ve seen outside of the scheduled training hours. Eric asks you about how you started tattooing and seems genuinely stunned that you grew up in Amity.

“It doesn’t seem possible,” he tells you over the hum of the tattoo needle, “you’re, like, normal.”

You laugh at that. “The Amity are normal, Coulter.”

He narrows his eyes. “They’re weird. Happy-go-lucky strangers. Not you, though,” he adds quickly, “you’re tough. A real Dauntless.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t take offense if you insult the Amity,” you grin, “I left for a reason, believe me on that.”

Eric frowns. “What was the reason, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You sigh, staring at the design you’re working through for a moment before getting up the strength to continue. “I clashed with the higher-ups a lot. If you weren’t totally happy and living life all the time, you felt like you were disappointing them. Everyone there claims that they’re only ever nice to them, but the faction leaders told me I was a screwup more times than I could count. Even my own parents.”

When you risk a glance up, you notice that Eric’s expression has twisted down into something colder, something almost like rage. “They were wrong. They shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know,” you laugh to yourself, “I did well in initiation, obviously they should have guessed that.”

After a while, Eric is convinced to laugh a little alongside you, but the anger doesn’t erase itself from his features for some time. “Yes,” he mumbles almost to himself, “they should have.”

The rest of the session passes without incident. The next day, you find yourself waiting at your empty station. He was supposed to come back to finish the piece, but he’s a few minutes late, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s on purpose, that you said or did something to chase him off. It could be nothing, of course, but you never know.

He ends up hurrying in soon enough, the slightly quickened beat of his walk the only sign that something is on his mind. You look up when he arrives, allowing yourself a small smile. He did come back, then. You were not too much.

“Glad to see you,” you say, “I was worried I scared you off with my inherent Amity-ness. I’ve heard it’s bad for Dauntless. Ruins the whole stoic demeanor if we smile too much.”

His lips twitch upwards briefly, but whatever had been bothering him before tamps that forbidden emotion down soon enough. “No, not your fault in the slightest. Some initiate was using the wrong kind of gun during today’s drills, nearly put another kid’s eye out. I don’t even know where he got the thing, but it happened anyway.”

“Ah,” you say with a knowing look, “Initiates.”

“Always initiates,” Eric grumbles, but he allows his smile to stick this time, and you think that maybe he isn’t as bad as the rumors allow.

The rest of the session is just as good, if not better. Eric is kind to you, says things that grow increasingly apparent to be jokes. It’s funny, you’d always heard that he was this terribly cold guy, but everyone else must have gotten him at a bad time. Either that, or that’s the Amity in you seeing the best of everyone. Still, you’re certain that his good attitude whenever you’re around isn’t faked. It can’t be.

There’s silence from him for a while. You don’t take it personally, or you shouldn’t, anyway– Eric’s a busy guy, you know that from his words alone if not from always seeing him rush around the compound. He’s a Dauntless leader, he’s not going to be hanging around a tattoo shop unless he’s actively getting new ink.

Then, about a week or so later, he comes back in. Busies himself with looking at the patterns for a while even though you both know he’s not going to get something anyone else could have. This time, he talks to you, asks what you wish you got to draw more often. When you answer, he has you put that in his latest design. It makes your stomach tie itself in tight knots, more intense than even when you’d thrown yourself off the roof on your first day on Dauntless earth.

Confusingly, Eric stops you when you’re about halfway through, says that’s all the time he’s got and that he’d like to continue tomorrow, if that’s alright with you. You ask him if he minds having an incomplete tattoo on his arm and he just laughs, tells you he’ll pull his sleeves down or something. It’s a terrible excuse, but it’s what he wants and so that must be what you want, too. It’s good business. You can tell yourself that when you’re lying awake at night, wondering just what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Eric comes in almost every day, demanding increasing progress on his tattoos. You don’t know why he insists on doing them piecewise– it’s not pain tolerance, he’s got more of that than anyone around and it’s not like Dauntless Leader Eric Coulter would ever admit to something pathetic like pain. It must be something else, then. It must be.

The tattoos spiral and change as they spread across his skin. They’re a mess, to be honest, no cohesive pattern, like he’s picking the templates with his eyes closed and only the goal of covering as much flesh as possible.

You tell him his tattoo sleeves aren’t as coherent as they could be; he laughs, asks you to use your Amity artistry to make some sense of them. He seems unruffled by your accusations of poor taste. Later that same day, Eric punches someone’s nose in because some drunk fellow stumbling out of a party made the mistake of questioning the inked patterns. The idiot said the same things you did, more or less. One of you received a rare smile, the other, a broken bone. It makes no sense.

At some point, he’s going to run out of skin to tattoo. You warn him of this and he grins, flashing dagger-sharp teeth at you. Says that’s why he’s asking you to go so slowly with it. Inch by inch, he cedes control to you. You want to question what that means, but some part of you is scared to ask, scared that he’ll change his mind and leave, or worse, ask someone else to do it.

The last day comes, and this time you know it’ll be the end with certainty. Eric asks you to ink his throat in thick stripes, almost like you can see the angles of his spine through the skin. You sit there, trying to focus on your needle, finishing the design, instead of anything foolish like his head in your hands, his eyes resting quietly on you. He can’t talk while you’re working on his neck like this, but the weight of his gaze says enough anyway.

You finish the last stroke and allow yourself to sit there for one final moment, waiting for it all to be over. Your fingers rest on the smooth expanse of his cheekbone, and Eric raises his hand to cover yours.

“Well,” you say at last, trying to keep your voice light, “it’s been an honor to tattoo you, Eric.”

He smiles. The brief, unwelcome thought that this might be the last time you see him do that flashes through your head, and you banish it just as quickly. That’s not something you want to think about right now, if ever.

“I’d say I’m the one who’s been honored,” he returns, “you’ve got the best work in the faction and everyone knows it.”

You feel some small surge of pride in your chest when he says it, hot and bright like the Dauntless flames. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me in a different way,” he offers, “Drinks tomorrow night, maybe? On me?”

You smile back at him. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” he grins, standing so he can look down at you. “I’ll pick you up then. It’ll be fun. Maybe you can teach me some of that Amity optimism.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. It would suit him, you think, smiling more, trusting you so he can let down his guard. Looking at him, at how his eyes brighten when he laughs, you think it already does.

divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @poisonmenegan, @ozyynka, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alex-1967s-blog

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter oneshot #divergent #divergent imagines #divergent x reader #divergent oneshot #divergent eric #divergent eric imagines #divergent eric x reader #divergent eric oneshot

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infiniteeight8 · 3 months ago

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Ironstrange: soulmarks show potential/compatible soulmates and change (appear, fade, etc). Tony has one that has never changed, no matter how often he interacts with Strange. How does Stephen win him over?

I ended up doing a fair bit of mental world building to get this to work in my brain. I hope the result is interesting!

“Tony,” Stephen says, approaching him after an Avengers meeting has wrapped up. “Could we speak in private?”

Tony has been dreading this day ever since he spotted the mosaic decorating Stephen’s chest and realized that the design filling one of the hexes matched one of the pie slices in the circle Tony bears on his shoulder. But there’s no avoiding it, not really. “Yeah, alright,” he says, and Stephen’s brow wrinkles at the reluctant note that Tony doesn’t even try to suppress. Might as well start lowering his expectations now.

Tony leads them into a spare conference room. No point in making this too personal. Hitching one hip up on the table, he waits for Stephen to close the door behind himself and then waves for him to go on.

“We have soulmate potential,” Stephen says carefully.

“I’m aware.”

Stephen is quiet for a moment. “I take it you’re not interested in pursuing that.”

Well, this is already going better than expected. “I’m not,” Tony confirms.

“May I ask why?”

“Sure,” Tony offers lightly and waits.

Impressively, Stephen doesn’t seem frustrated or impatient despite being forced to ask the question again: “Why are you not interested in pursuing a potential soulmate?”

“Because I’ve been down this road before,” Tony says bluntly. “Three times, actually. Potential soulmates who come to me full of pretty promises about what our future could look like if only I’d let them in, give them a chance, open up. They push and they push and they push because they’re so sure we’re going to be perfect together, and when the mark never activates they get angry and resentful and blame me for not trying hard enough. I should have learned from the first two, but the third… The third was Pepper. At least I managed to salvage a friendship out of that one.

“In my experience,” Tony went on, “soulmate potential doesn’t improve relationships, it ruins them. I’m not interested in going through that again.”

Stephen is quiet for a long minute. Tony waits for the argument for how Stephen is different. Maybe he’ll claim the silver mark—a platonic soulmate—on his chest means he knows how this works. Maybe he’ll argue that they have more in common, both being heroes. Maybe he thinks magic gives him extra insight into the whole soulmate concept.

“I understand,” Stephen says eventually. “I hope we can be friends, eventually, but I imagine you’ll want some distance first.”

He turns and opens the conference room door, and it’s then, when Tony is still staring after him in disbelief, that Tony feels the flare of heat in his shoulder.

Stephen stops, but doesn’t turn back. Tony yanks his shirt off and cranes his neck to peer at his shoulder. “Well, look at that,” he says, bemused. Stephen’s pie slice shines gold. “Apparently all I needed was for someone to respect my choice.” He looks up to find Stephen still in the doorway, shoulders tense. “Get back here, Stephen.”

Stephen closes the door and hesitantly comes back to stand before Tony. “You’re sure?” His eyes go to Tony’s shoulder and the golden mark.

“I’ve never had an activated mark before,” Tony says. “The variables have changed.” Stephen arches an eyebrow and Tony rolls his eyes. “That’s a yes. I’m sure.”

Stephen smiles. “Good.”

#IronStrange #ficlet

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camilieroart · 1 year ago

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TMNT COLORCODED CHARACTER LINEUP COMPLETED !

After MONTHS of work, here is finally the lineup of all

61 CHARACTERS

That will be relevant at one point or another in Colorcoded season 1 :) More non-spoilery informations about them below !

Harry the Pickpocket gets beaten up pretty often. People like to hate what is ugly, and Harry wasn't the prettiest homeless guy around. Then again, most of the time he got beat up because he was caught stealing, but that's irrelevant. He had to do what he had to do to survive, and in New York, if you don't steal what you need, well people won't give it to you. More often than not, New Yorkers liked to step over him and a few sometimes walked on him, while still ignoring him. Harry was used to being hated, being beaten, being ugly and undeserving. What he was definitely NOT used to, was being saved by a group of reptilian people that, despite the fact that he stole from them, did not beat him up, talked to him nicely, and even built him a safe shelter. The Purple one even got him running water ! Now that he could drink and shower and look presentable, he might even be able to get a job, all thanks to these kids ! Harry didn't care that they were green and had a tough back. They were nice to him, and it was only fair Harry shared whatever scraps of infos he got to help them during missions. Especially when they brought some of these tasty pizzas…

Angel had always been called a bit naive, a bit stupid, a bit too good. She was always accommodating, always saying yes and her trust could easily be abused. But that wasn't true. Angel wasn't stupid. She knew what she was giving, and she knew that sometimes it was a bit too much. But she wanted to believe in the good of people, and in their good intentions, because it's always nice to be believed in ! So, what if she felt horribly ostracized by her only friends Casey and April, always out of the loop and pushed aside, ditched out of nowhere for them to run off with poor excuses ? They surely had a great reason ! Plus, she also kept secrets from them. You see, Angel had a part time job in the local Dimmart. She didn't really need it, it was just a good way to store away cash. And the fact that she didn't NEED it, made her able to freely walk out or shrug off if she gets fired. That definitely came in handy the night she caught a giant rat man and 4 turtles stealing from the store. So maybe she let them get away and purposefully covers for them everytime she can, but what else was she supposed to do ? She knows that people who steal, are usually people that don't have choice. Some nights, maybe the cameras have some strange malfunctions.

Steve Spiegel was a failed artist. At least that what his mom said. No matter how much work he put in his comics, nobody seemed to care. Maybe he just wasn't good at coming up with nice stories... But if there's one thing he's good at, it's listening to other people's stories, and giving advice. Now that's his thing ! Maybe he doesn't enjoy it as much as making his own stories, but at least, it pays the bills ! Plus there's that new client, Casey Jones, that had been telling him the craziest stories. Of course, Steve knew realistically, that this kid was either having a laugh at his expense, or in a serious situation that he struggled at expressing and tries to explain through silly stories instead. Either way, Steve listened like it was real, gave advice like it was true, and everytime the kid seemed happy and satisfied. And professional confidentiality be damned, these stories were too good to not be turned into a nice comic…

Vernon Fenwick was what you can call an asshole. After he failed to work in any of the TV channels the city had to offer, he made his own show called the Earth Protection News, courtesy of his roommate Ulysses S. Grant, that might have passed away soon after giving him the right to his show and all of it's audience. Vernon's show didn't work well at first. In this stupidly 'woke' world, having an openly racist, and misogynist and transphobic show seemed to have a certain impact on how it performed. It wasn't until the apparition of the monsters (that the arrogant and blind-sided left calls 'mutants' to hide their horrific nature) that Vernon truly started to shine. Each new footage or even pictures was dissected in his show and explained. People listened ! Finally the world knew he was right. These reptilians had grown tired of waiting, and decided to finally start to take over, but humans won't let them ! we'll fight back, starve them, torture them, kill them ! His show was bought by Channel 3, and millions hung to his every word ! And if Vernon hid some footage that proved these mutants weren't as dangerous as he thought, then who would know ? It was only a matter of time anyway. He could see it, when they mess up and the entire world is at stake because of them, oh he would be right. He would have won. And when it happens, Vernon would be there.

Akira is the Shredder’s right hand. When Shredder rose to power, he went against her, and was thrown into a prison pit to rot. But Shredder knew the man had talent and skill, and she didn’t want it to go to waste. She broke his mind, and took his eyes, and Akira is now completely obedient to his master.

Tanner G. Rollins is the failure of the family. His family moved to New York to make it, 2 generations ago, and were very successful. Tanner chose not to take over the family business and become a doctor. They were kicked out and banished because of it. He struggled really badly to become a dentist, and even then, clients were rare and barely enough to survive. Thanks to Splinter’s kindness, they decided to devote his life to helping mutants. He became a pro-mutant activist and takes care of mutant patients without ever compromising their safety. Also they’re a big rabbit fan. They’re just neat. He’s very blunt and honest, and heavily depressed.

Avril and xer twin Amaro Knox work in their grandma's (Anet Knox) Calm Corner Comics shop, and often scare of assholes that try to bother. They are both pro-mutants. Both are Tanako no Ichi fan. Avril is very chill and cool (xey/xer). Amaro is a party guy and always poppin'.

Anet Knox might be a small woman, but she is strong-willed and is a person to respect. She rules her comic shop with an iron fist, and is ready to beat the hell out of anyone disrespectful, despite her grandchildren being there to do so. She’s loudly pro-mutant, and is very happy to see Leo and Donnie whenever they come over for the new Tanako no Ichi manga or some Lynthia’s Legends.

André Murakami is a blind japanese chef, owner of the small but delicious restaurant "Fuyuuran". He was blind from one eye when he was born and fucked up his other eye by running around with a knife as a kid. He's very sweet and pro-mutant.

Renet Tilley is Casey's and April's history teacher, as well as their reference teacher. She is pretty awkward and shy around other adults and tend to relax around teens and younger. Her classes are always interesting and she strives to help her student as best as she can.

Shinigami and Yumiko live together. Shinigami was Karai's nanny and basically raised her. After Saki's death, she talked to Karai calling her sweetheart as she always have and got gutted and thrown out. Thankfully she was saved by one of the clan's cooks, Yumiko. They both ran away from the Foot and they assume they're dead. Since the Foot had always provided for them, they live in extreme poverty, and Yumiko works 5 jobs to try to save up to buy a proper wheelchair for Shinigami.

Baxter Stockman found, one day, a lot of canisters clogging his lab’s water tunnels, and after a few experiments, saw the potential in the mutagene. He sold it to scientists all around the world, and kept some to himself to experiment with. Ethicality and morality didn’t have it’s place in Stockman Entreprises, and it was in the way of progress. However, Baxter knew it was dangerous, and thus took it really badly when he noticed one day the Foot Clan spying on him, and decided to teach them a lesson. Baxter’s main drive is learning and discovering, advancing technology and driving humanity forward, no matter the cost. With global warming and world leaders playing with atomic bombs, time is limited, and Baxter will be the one to save the human race.

Don Vizioso is the nicest guy alive, he's known as the philantropist Vizioso. He would help you pay off your debt, take you under his wing if you're struggling, pay an ice cream to a little kid, shoot a guy that betrayed him 35 times in the head, pay for your college tuition, help fix the fucked up streets, or even give you access to his free hospital he set up in Manhattan ! His employees are helping out everywhere in the city, even if their influence is mainly in Manhattan. Recently, they have been bravely battling the group of thugs named the Purple Dragons, that keep aggressing people and destroying properties. Of course, Vizioso always helps with the reparations, sometimes coming down himself to fix up a wall or entertain the kids. For some reason, people keep coming after him with wild accusations, and these thugs often end up being recruited by the Purple Dragons. Plus, after the city announcement about the existence of monsters in New York, he's taken a stance on protecting New York, and has been bravely fighting back the creatures that keep trashing the city ! What a hero.

(This is the version that Vizioso believes about himself as well as the propaganda)

Don Vizioso is a mafia boss, despite being known by the mass as "the philantropist Vizioso". He would help you pay off your debt, but in return you're indebted in him. He'd take you under his wing, then shove you into a life of crime you can't escape. He would pay an ice cream to a little kid, because that way the shooter on the roof can't get to him. He would shoot a corpse until it's disfigured, and then go after his family. He would pay for your college tuition, and then ask you to kill the dean. He would fix the fucked up streets, and ask a tax from the people to pay for it. He made a free hospital, that actually records everything about you, and steals money every month without you noticing. His goons are looming over the entire city, but Manhattan is what is truly under his control, including the information. A group of resistant was created, called the Purple Dragons, but they are constantly discredited and Vizioso's crimes are pinned on them. Vizioso helps this idea that he's innocent by helping rebuild buildings he destroyed, but not the families he killed. When people realize they've been dupped, and lost everything after trusting Don Vizioso, they go after him, and then join the resistance. The mutants are a menace for his organization, and they won't destroy what took him so long to build. Plus, if he could capture them and sell them, he could make a good buck out of it.

The Purple Dragons are angry people, most of which have been wronged by Don Vizioso, that let their anger known. They are demonized by Don Vizioso and the city, and cast aside. Hun is their leader, driven mostly by anger and resentment. He always feels as if everything is being stolen from him and reacts impulsively and violently, which has often has negative effects in his life. He tries to aim that anger directly onto Vizioso and his energy into taking him down. During the raids to places that would weaken Vizioso, Hun goes wild and is often the reason for the bigger property damage. After hurting his loved ones when he was little however, he is always careful to not hurt people unless they ask/agree to it (like for a spar or he asks people if they want to fight. If they refuse he insists but doesn’t lunge for it anyway), or to defend himself or the people he wants to protect. Only when it’s directly and immediately. The few crimes they do commit in order to fight Vizioso is often the justification for the other, bigger crimes Vizioso commits and pins on them. Hun knows that getting mad at that and being violent back would only make their reputation worse, but he refuses to stay idle or passive in the face of the mafia boss. Hun, Koios Streight (the voice of reason), Nermin (tries to better the reputation of the Purple Dragons and deal with the damage. She's the n°1 reason Hun reigns himself in property damage). Also Koios and Nermin are dating. it's like irrelevant to anything ever. All the purple dragon things they wear is merch from Lynthia's legends (donnie's fav books) because it's about dragons and the color theme is purple.

Miss Chow, Malo and Arune are a little recomposed family. Miss Chow owns a food stall called "Chow's food and drink" in Manhattan. Arune and Miss Chow are married, and each handle a different job for the stall. Miss Chow is the main face and makes the food and such. Arune is usually working on paperwork and taking care of the finances and going to pick up Malo from school… Malo is from Miss Chow's previous marriage. She loves her moms but she's very very shy. She’s also partially deaf, but is able to hear pretty well with her hearing aid. Miss Chow is battling cancer, and thanks to Arune’s incredible talent in handling finances and worming through admnistrative, they’re able to stay afloat and have most of her treatment covered. Arune had a congenital malformation, and due to the fact she spent her entire life disabled and surviving America’s legal system, she really knows her way around their traps.

8-ball needs to feel like she has control over her life, and herself. After 18, her parents pushed her out for her to become independent, but 8-ball struggled and failed to get a job. Desperate and unable to seek refuge at her parents’, she was extremely grateful when a kind man took her in. What she thought was kindness turned out to be abuse, as he used her fragile mental state to control her. His constant pressure to be more beautiful and thinner, and her need to feel like she still belonged to herself led her to the dangerous path of controlling her food. It started small, not allowing any snaks after 2PM, then it became not eating more than once a day, then that one meal became smaller and smaller. It felt good, to be able to control that, to see the changes on her body that at last SHE was making happen. One day, as he hit her, one of her bone broke, due to malnutrition. He realized that his puppet would no longer work, and he left. 8-ball was right back where she started, in a much worse condition. Her control over her life kept slipping away, even with him gone, and it only amplified her need to control her food intake. Then, an evening she looked in the mirror after showering and it hit her like a truck. She was not okay and she needed help. But with no job and barely surviving, she couldn’t afford the help. She had no support group, nothing. So she made one, with other girls that like her were struggling and needed help but couldn’t get any professional one.

She is slowly relearning to eat without the swirl of guilt and horror to appear, but it’s very hard, and set backs happen often. But she’s going to survive it, she’s determined to make it. She wears wigs to hide her falling hair, and contacts because she likes it. Her favorites are the 8 balls ones.

The Turks were originally just a support group for disabled girls to talk about their problem, but it quickly turned into a way for them to expel their anger and sadness at being abandoned by society. It was founded and is being lead by 8-ball (favourite weapon baseball bat), along her two right arms, Aïda (spiky punchy things) who has down syndrome and is tired of being pushed aside, and Ruth (knife hidden in cane), an old black lady that seems fragile but will tear you apart, earning her the nickname “ruthless”. The gang often trashes the city and beat up people that make comments on their appearances. They tag a lot of walls about the city’s abandonment of disabled people and the lack of help and care for them if they do not fit hyper-specific criterias. As well as they are constantly judged due to their disability, leading to an impossibility to get jobs and sometimes even housing. They are led by 8-ball, that cannot fight due to her fragile physical state, but is the voice of their group. As the group gets known, they are being joined by other women, that while not disabled, are victims of societal or domestic abuse, and wishes for things to change. Of course all of this nuance and why the group was created is being pushed aside by medias and they are being labelled as a violent mob gang that only wishes to create anarchy. All their messages through tags are not relayed by the media, and some of them even present 8-ball and her right arms as big strong men (because how else could they have trashed the street ?). They are regularly being stopped by the turtles for hurting people, whenever it goes too far. However the mutants have never stopped them from writing their messages, as long as they didn’t hurt anyone. For a while, the girls abided to the rules, but they are getting tired of their messages disappearing in the wind. They need to do something big. To finally be listened to. Also this women only club does accept trans women, who goes through the same selection as everyone else.

it was originally a support group for women to reunite and talk about their problems and such. now, sure they trash the place but technically that's still the case. It's a support group for women about women discrimination, which includes all women, but it's a support group for women. Like that's just it. It turned into a gang which isn't great, but yeah. Plus it's not like a windmill. There's like questions they ask you before you join and stuff. It's a group that includes everyone that has experiences woman discrimination, and so includes trans women and Ft anything. Of course regardless of gender or build or whatever if you start being an ass you get kicked out

General Blanque is loyal to his country, and after that the world. He will defend it from any threats, and after New York City’s mayor gets attacked by monsters, and the mayor gets convinced to stay inactive, General Blanque decides to act in the shadows, helped by his assistant Lonae. It would take him a while, but he would get rid of these pests, before they fester and grow. He has a plan for a special squad of trained criminals, as he could not use soldiers without being noticed, and he’d grant them immunity if they succeed... Lonae is a model secretary and assistant. Always proper and straight, remembering all the meetings and accommodating her general whenever she can. Dutiful and loyal to a fault, especially to her clan’s leader, Shredder. She’s a wonderful spy, not once suspected by the General. Shredder stays aware of all the political movement happening in New York, without ever giving away her precious asset.

Libby and Harold Lilja own the store “Friendly neighbourhood store”, in the end of Brooklyn, towards Staten Island. Originally both graduate of a science PhD, their paths led them to each other, and in the end, to this little store that is their pride and joy. They met Splinter and the turtles when they were still little, as Splinter was trying to steal for food. The Lilja were the first ones to welcome the mutants with open arms and help them out. They are considered precious allies, despite not being in each others life all that often (not visiting each others houses or anything). Both of them are very outspoken pro-mutants, despite Harold being generally very quiet, and Libby avoiding political discussions.

Oxymary's maker, nicknamed "Ox" by fans. They're a bit fan of non-human creatures, going as far to inspire their main guiding character from a non-human, and then always dressing up as them when they go out. Which is ironic, when you know how anti-mutant they are.

Ox, making the game : "ommmmmg so like monster characters are soooo cool, so mysterious and interesting, and different ! i love how different from us monters are :D" Ox, as soon as they learn about mutants "oh ewwww what the hell is that kill it with fire"

The mayor is sooo important. He's so important you know. A big important man, that needs to be respected. And taken care of because he works soooo hard for this city. A good business man. A big boy. He can yell reaaal loud if you don't listen to him ! So brave ! So imposing ! He's doing soooo well, his mama sure thinks so. She supports him when he goes after the big bad monsters that harmed her baby boy ! Like a superhero.

James Bond is just a guy. He likes animals, and he’s a trans man who had Bond as his last name and just ran with it. He’s the only pro-mutant vetenarian in an anti-mutant clinic, so he keeps a low profile but he helps the turtles when he can. Nothing fancy or big, just a guy doing his part.

#colorcoded #colorcoded au #tmnt #tmnt colorcoded #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au #tmnt iteration #camilieroart

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suugarbabe · 4 months ago

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Origin Stories

(part 6)

summary: matty is struggling to understand his feelings, especially the ones he's feeling towards you; the rumor mill about the heir is slytherin is growing, and somehow you get confronted with it root of it

warnings: inferences to child abuse, emotional abuse, shit mother bellatrix; angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, foreshadowing if you know the lore

an: thank you to my love, my hub, my editor mans who makes sure your reading experience is always smooth, @musingsofahufflepuff <3

It was strange, really. How easily so many others took to the same opinion of your friends. Theo labeled shy and brooding; when in reality he was hilariously witty. Mattheo labeled as scary, dangerous, the heir of Slytherin; when truly he was the shy one. People often viewed Enzo as loud, seemingly always knowing about other people’s business; that one might actually be correct.

But what really had you laughing to yourself was how stubborn people were to keep their ideals. For example, anyone who held those previously mentioned thoughts about your boys surely would have to drop them after seeing what they accomplished for your birthday.

You’d thought them slightly mad when suggesting eating lunch in the courtyard in the beginning of March. But Mattheo had insisted. It’s your birthday after all. Would you deny letting us celebrate our favorite badger? And who were you to deny him?

Thankfully, despite the chill of the Scotland highlands, the lot of you were warm while sitting on the quilt laid out for you. “You’ve really mastered the warming charm, huh, Teddy?” Theo glared at Enzo’s use of his nickname, pointing a finger, “Do not say to me that name, Lorenzo.” You smiled at the interaction, Theo actually answering Enzo’s question, “Mamá used to do one for me lot of the time. So much I just learned it from watching.”

You and your friends spend the entire lunch out outside. Theo’s warming charm making it feel close to a summer’s day. The three of them had collectively gone in on a gift for you this year, a grin so wide spreading your face that you felt the skin pull on your cheeks.

Inside the gift bag Enzo had plopped in your lap was a new pair of golden colored crochet hooks, little black flecks spread throughout the coloring. “You can use them magically or the muggle way!” Enzo sat on his hunches, hands spread on his knees as he was practically bouncing with excitement.

“They were Matt’s idea,” Theo nudged his friend with his elbow. Mattheos cheeks dusted pink as he scratched the back of his neck, “But we all got them together. Do, erm, do you like them?”

You nodded, “Love them.” The three boys in front of you exchanged joyful smiles, essentially patting each other on the back for a job well done. “Well I’m glad you like them…Mocha’s gonna need a vest.”

The air in the great hall was thick. All of the students in your year crowded around the long stage set for a dueling exhibition much like what happened in the fall. “Someone take Malfoy’s wand, don’t want a repeat of the last time, yeah?” Enzo threw his head back, laughing at his own joke as he bumped his shoulder into yours. You shook your head, shoving him away with a smile. Draco gave Enzo the finger and a scowl; Enzo pretended to catch the gesture in the air and stuffed it in his robe pocket.

But the joke didn’t die there, Theo clapping his hand on Draco’s back, causing him to stumble forward slightly, “Yes, let me save us all from Slytherin embarrassment today.” Theo playfully pretended to pat down Draco’s robes before the blonde forcefully shoved him away, “Fucking Salazar, Nott. Get off me.” Mattheo watched in slight amusement as his cousin put distance between himself and Matty’s inner circle.

To help avoid any plans of revenge or mayhem, the professors assisting with the dueling club paired everyone up. You were thankful to be paired with Enzo, but you seemed to be the only lucky one as Mattheo was paired with Hermione Granger while Theo got stuck with Neville Longbottom. You hoped Hermione went easy on Mattheo, her easily being the top of your class; while simultaneously hoping that Theo went a little easy on Longbottom, as he was very likely at the bottom.

“Don’t worry, Enz, I’ll go easy on you,” You teased, wand ready and waiting for the go ahead from the professors. Enzo scoffed, “Oh please, little badger. Gimme your worst…I’m begging on my knees, truly.” With the signal to begin fired in the air, you wasted no time throwing a stinging jinx Enzo’s way. He was quicker than you expected, blocking the charm with a raised brow. “Been reading ahead, have you?” Enzo was smirking almost proudly and for some reason your cheeks grew warm. “Maybe a little, but I can’t tell you how far. I do plan on beating you,” you threw one, two, three more jinxes Enzo’s way, him blocking each one.

“Quick thing, aren’t you,” Enzo threw a spell your way, you blocking it quickly. Then he did something you’d not read up on yet; throwing two spells at once. The first one you were able to block easily, but the second hit you square in the ribs. Instantly you fell to your knees in a fit of giggles, grabbing your stomach and bracing yourself on the ground, “H-how…did you…do that,” your sentence was broken between laughs, Enzo kindly walking over to help you off the ground. “Dad taught me last summer. Said it would be useful in a few years for some reason, but it definitely came in handy today.”

Mattheo turned at the sound of your laughter, seeing you doubled over on the ground and smiling at Enzo. He could feel a rage beginning to build inside him, a deep heat in the pit of his stomach that felt like it was spreading through his veins the more you smiled at someone that was not him. In the next moment Matty was blown 5 meters backward, falling hard on his back and the air feeling sucked from his lungs.

He could feel his anger growing inside of him. His skin getting hotter, his vision getting black around the edges. Then he heard Enzo say your name, and you were laughing again, and so was he. And Matty just wanted it to stop, wanting everything to be quiet, wanted Enzo to shut his mouth and not say your name like that.He moved next without thinking. Standing quickly and firing off the spell with a wrath he hadn’t ever felt before, “Oscausi!”

The incantation left his lips and a sense of dread began to cover him. He looked over at Hermione, the one he was actually dueling, the one who caught the tail end of his outburst. Her mouth was now missing. Mattheo knew it wasn’t completely gone, just that he had sealed it shut; but that didn’t stop the young witch from panicking. “Bloody hell, Granger, I’m sorry…I didn’t-” Mattheo rushed towards her, but she backed up in the same steps.

Hermione then backed into another student, tripping herself in the process. “Oh my gods, look what Riddle did to Granger!” It just took one student to shout out before everyone started crowding. Mattheo didn’t dare look around, but he could feel them staring. “Take that as a warning mudbloods!” Draco’s obnoxious voice rang over the crowd, “the Heir of Slytherin will get rid of you all!”

There were gasps all over the crowd of students, murmuring about how someone needed to stop him, just grab Mattheo and turn him in to Dumbledore right now. Mattheo started to get that same feeling in his gut that he gets when he hears his mother’s heels click down the manor halls. He had to get out of there.

So that’s what he did, turning and pushing through his classmates and starting to run. Where he was running he wasn’t quite sure but he knew he had to get out of there, had to get away. Maybe to some place no one would find him, or maybe some place only one person would find him.

“I am not seeing him in any space, he is nowhere!” Theo threw his hands up in frustration before leaning back against the corridor wall. You, Theo and Enzo had been looking for Mattheo for the better part of an hour after dueling club, but were continuously coming up short. “Salazar’s sake, where would he go that we haven’t already looked,” Enzo scratched the back of his head and looked down the corridor, “I didn’t even know Matt was this good at hiding.”

Then it hit you. You knew where he was. “I think I know where he might be,” you looked between the two boys in front of you, “but I have to go alone.” Enzo shook his head, “Nuh-uh, we’re coming with you. Just show us where to go.” You looked from Enzo to Theo, eyes pleading. Theo placed a hand on Enzo’s shoulder, “Come, compagno, let them go. We’ll meet them in the star tower.” Enzo grumbled, “Astronomy tower.” But still, he turned and followed his friend.

Once they were out of sight, you turned and headed towards the kitchens. He had only ever done it once, back in first year, but you had a feeling that your instinct was right. Rushing down the spiral staircase you nearly tripped on the roots of the stone tree as you worked your way past the large barrels.

Sometime between last winter and now Mattheo seemed to have worked out how to silent his cries because you weren’t sure you were going to find him at first. But, as you made it past the last blocking barrel you saw him, as far in as his body would let him. Crouched against the wall with his head buried in his knees and arms wrapped around his legs. If you didn’t see his shoulders shaking one’d have assumed he was sleeping.

“Matty?” your voice was a quiet whisper, treating him like a scared puppy you didn’t want to spook. “Go away,” his muffled voice was shaky, much like the rest of him. You sat on the ground next to him, not saying a word. Instead you leaned your head over slightly, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping a hand around his bicep. “It’ll be okay, Matty.”

You saw him give a slight nod of his head in your peripheral before he leaned his head slightly to the side so he was touching you back in some way. Then the two of you sat in silence until he was ready to meet up with the others.

And everything did really seem to be okay. At least for a little while. There were quite a few weeks where it appeared like everything had settled. Students seemed to be a little calmer, talks of shutting the school down were mere whispers and rumors again. Your little group was even back to their normal teasing and mischief.

The latter bit was actually why you were heading back from the library alone. The three boys you usually surround yourself with managing to get themselves in detention for slipping puking pasties to the first years who sat in the front desks in Snape’s last lesson of the day. Theo had tried to claim ignorance, stating something about him ‘not being able to properly read the english description on the wrappers’, but the other two culprits read guilty as they couldn’t contain their laughter and remarks at the stench of Snape’s robes.

You didn’t really mind though, because it made everything feel right as it should. You were reading over your newly finished assignment when someone apparently wanted to get your attention, shoving your shoulder and gritting your name through their teeth. “Did you help him, hmm? Did you plot some sort of revenge against our friend for no bloody reason? Are you in on it?” An angry, red headed boy you knew to be Ron Weasley was shoving his finger into the joint of your shoulder with each pressing question.

You smacked his hand away from your body, “What are you on about, you prat?” Ron scoffed, golden boy Potter standing right behind him. “Don’t go and play dumb now, we know you and Riddle are probably in cahoots for some reason. Where is he now, huh? Usually bloody glued to your side like a lost puppy. Probably a ploy to seem innocent!”

Without thinking clearly you whipped out your wand, “Don’t talk about him like that. You don’t know the first thing about Mattheo!” At this, Potter shoved his friend aside to hold a black leather book in your face. “Do you know what this is?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, arms crossing with annoyance. “I don’t know, Potter..a diary? Gonna serenade me into boredom with some of your entries?”

Harry shook the diary in front of your face again, “Read the name.” You huffed a breath through your nose and glanced once more at the book in front of you. In clean golden letters was a name across the diary: Tom Riddle. It felt like your heart sank into your gut, an overwhelming feeling of heat and dread started to encompass you. It had to be a coincidence, right? There’s no way that Matty knew about anything going on. In fact, you knew he knew nothing. You knew your Matty.

You stood taller, arms crossed in a tighter hold, “Listen, I don’t know what revelation you want me to come to here, but shoving things in my face and acting like an arse isn’t helping you.” The sass in your demeanor seemed to only enrage Weasley further, him stepping in front of Harry again to maybe try and intimidate you. Or at least show you how mad he truly was. “You’re choosing to be blind at this point. Harry and I are going to find the proof we need to show everyone that Mattheo’s the heir of Slytherin that’s been trying to kill other students.”

His accusations had you seeing fire, “You seriously are looney, huh, Weasley. Like you said earlier, Mattheo is practically glued to my hip. I know you were some sort of ‘hero’ last year for whatever reason, but I don’t know why you’re taking that as a challenge to make yourself the center of attention every year. Honestly…it’s a little pathetic.”

Ron’s face was redder than his hair at this point, nearly spitting on you with his next outburst, “You know he got Hermione!” You took a cautious step back, confusion clearly written on your face, “What the hell are you talking about, he apologized for the stuff during dueling club weeks ago.” Ron pointed an accusatory finger at you, “Hermione’s been petrified, Pomfrey said she could’ve been killed if she wasn’t so brilliant. The dueling incident was clearly a warning; everyone said so anyway.”

Your face dropped, body untensing as you realized the boys before you were just hurting. Just two young kids trying to find a solution to something terrifying happening to someone they cared about. You knew that feeling all too well. “Listen, Ron, Harry. I’m sorry about Hermione…but Matty didn’t do this. If he were trying to get rid of muggleborns..don’t you think he would’ve done me in by now?”

Harry shook his head, still not convinced, “But..the diary, the name.” You shrugged it off, “I’ll admit it’s a weird coincidence..” Ron snorted, “Coincidence? You’re joking. It’s the same bloody name!” But you just shook your head, “It’s not him and quite frankly…nothing you say is going to convince me otherwise.” You turned to leave, only to be stopped by Harry grabbing your arm, “Just..be careful.” A simple nod was your reply before hoisting your school bag higher on your shoulder and going to find your friends.

You had decided to not tell Matty about the accusations Harry and Ron confronted you about a few weeks earlier. When he had found out that Hermione had been petrified, Matty truly seemed distraught. He was close to spiraling down again, but thankfully both Enzo and Theo were becoming more in tune with Mattheo’s warning signs and took him down to the quidditch pitch to clear his head.

Final exams hit you all a few weeks after that; studying then taking up most of your time. After you all completed the last one it was decided there was a need for celebration; and you knew just the idea.

The four of you spread comfortably on the blanket pallets that Matty showed the boys to make on their dorm room floor. As previously, you set up the projector, using your wand to hand the sheet on the wall. ‘Do not look directly into that light’ was Mattheo’s only warning. You did your best to describe picture films to Theo and Enzo while you set up, the concept continuously confusing to the both of them. “You’ve known unicorns are actually real your entire life but you’ve never heard of a picture film before?” you shook your head in disbelief, wondering how wizard-kind survived so long with their ignorance of muggle inventions.

When the film started playing, Enzo started laughing, “Ohhh, I get it now. So it’s like the Daily Prophet but with sound.” Your head turned slowly, staring blankly at the boy, “How in the hell are you passing all of your classes right now.” Enzo shrugged with a boyish grin before settling deeper into his pillows. As expected, Theo and Enzo enjoyed the experience just as much as Mattheo, making you promise to show them more once you all returned to school the following year.

A few days later, you were all sitting at your house tables for the feast. And just as the year before, Mattheo hated that you had to be on the complete opposite side of the room. He watched as the last post delivery of the year started, different colored owls swooping and dipping throughout the Great Hall dropping off last minute reminder letters for students with loving families. Which is what made it particularly shocking that a single black envelope fell directly in front of him.

With a tentative hand he turned it over, seeing the same scratchy scrawl that belonged to his mother as the previous letter right before Christmas. Theo and Enzo watched on in silence, knowing far better than to ask questions at this moment. Mattheo jabbed a finger in the small opening and ripped the top of the envelope open. The letter inside was short and to the point, similarly to how his mother liked to deal with most things. And also akin to most things that come from his mother, each word caused the pit in Mattheo’s stomach to deepen.

Your presence is no longer needed at my manor until your father returns. Tiberius Nott has graciously agreed to house you until you are called for. Don’t even fathom being an embarrassment, you know what that will get you.

Instinctively Mattheo’s hand reached for his face, his fingertips tracing the two scars on his right side. He read the letter over once more before discarding it on the table. No signature from his mother. But of course it wasn’t even needed. He knew who it was from, and she knew that he would; why waste the ink?

Theo picked up the letter from the table, holding it between himself and Enzo for the two of them to read. Theo perked up, “Ah, perfetto! We are summer friends, fratello! We will have so much fun, I will make sure!” Mattheo hummed, putting on his best attempt at a smile, “Thanks, mate. Looking forward to it.” Theo clapped Matty on the back, a broad smile on his face before returning to a conversation with Enzo.

Everyone’s attention in the hall was then directed to the main doors, as they opened to reveal every person that was petrified over the school year now happy and healthy and walking towards their house tables. Mattheo watched as Hermione ran towards her two best friends, hugging them each fiercely. He was happy that she was okay, though he would never admit that to anyone else. He was even happier that it seemed like no one was blaming him anymore for what had happened to all the students. Mattheo then looked across the hall to the Hufflepuff table, eyes desperately searching.

Once he found you, he couldn’t help the burning in his cheeks to find that you were already looking at him. With the cheeriest smile, you waved, before giving a brief point to the golden trio and giving a thumbs up. It was like you were giving your own indication of relief to him, letting him know that it was a good thing if he felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

The simplest action made him nearly forget about the letter with the cold empty words of his mother. He smiled back, a true and genuine smile that you always seemed to get out of him, and he waved, a shy two fingered thing. Mattheo desperately hoped that the summer away from you wasn’t going to be nearly as bad as the ones before, especially since this time he would also get to be away from his relatives, but get to be with someone he considered to be a brother.

#you all are getting a summer chapter next #so i hope you'll be into that #enzo berkshire #theo nott #slytherin boys #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #matty riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x gn!reader #x reader #x reader insert #origin stories series

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