#despite how he might want to strange his friends at times from how often they butt heads when bored

[devil-in-hiding]

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

[nightmare-the-cat]

This little snapshot brought to you by Insomnia!

What are the boyfriends discussing? Something to do with the team, probably, and how Gen tends to make competitive situations worse due to his lack of social graces-ending in fights between the Knights.

Guren is the only responsible one, which is probably why he’s the one in charge, but he has his moments of temperament too

Anyway you have no idea how cathartic it is to make fanart for a show I loved back in the day, especially since I wasn’t that good of an artist back then. Now I actually feel like I can make stuff that I can be proud of for it-and it feels wonderful seeing how far I’ve come

The next couple of days will probably be a Tenkai Knight overhaul-just because I’ve missed this show and wished there was a second season that focused on the characters as teenagers-with Guren trying to balance the conflicts of a very diverse group in terms of personalities as a leader, and everyone dealing with the changes of growing up while also still dealing with an alien civil war.

It probably wouldn’t have been as gay as I’m gonna make it for however long I end up making this stuff, but I’d like to indulge in the potential this show had for a while

Also @kazumahashimoto, saw your sidedcoin fanart the other day, know you are the main reason behind my reignited hyperfixation right now and I thank you for it

[saduko]

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!”

[vanesycho]

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.”

[yanderes-galore]

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."

[camilieroart]

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.

[heliads]

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

[mbruben-stein]

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.

[banj0possum]

I need more jock x reader with reader having a big attitude and shows big disinterest in Brandon🥰

Jock x Gn Reader pt. 3

there was also an anon who requested reader topping Brandon so ill add it in as well :3

🏈 You've been tutoring Brandon for a few weeks now. Even after he passed that english test, he insisted you'd tutor him even in other subjects.

🏈 Of course you didn't care because you never wanted to tutor him in the first place.

🏈 No matter how clear your explanations are, he never got it until an hour of guiding him step by step, it was terribly draining to you and the alone time you were supposed to spend instead of teaching a dumb jock like him what 2+2 was.

🏈 Despite you thinking he's all muscle and no brains, Brandon's pretty smart, he gotta keep his grades up for football somehow, but the more time he spent playing dumb, the more time he spent with you, zoning out of your cute face that gets upset when you notice him staring at you googly-eyed, snapping your fingers at him to wake him up.

🏈 He won't say it out loud, but he relished the thought of your annoyed face, it awoken a part of him that he didn't even know existed.

🏈 Brandon would spot you amongst the crowd during break periods and if he tried to tease you or mess with you, you'd give him a sharp glare, sometimes grabbing his wrist or arm to stop him from wrapping an arm around you or playing with your hair.

🏈 It aroused encouraged him honestly.

🏈 His friends would notice him talking and hanging out with you more often and would ask him about you, Brandon confessing his slight big crush on you.

🏈 They'd coach him, telling him sweet poems to write, pickup lines, gifts, gestures to make you notice him, even his friends' girlfriends would tell him things they felt would work with you.

🏈 He had a few tricks he used on girls to get with them, but they never worked with you, so he might as well try.

🏈 He'd try to impress you, lifting weights, working out, all to get your attention. A compliment, a glance, even a scoff over how much he's trying, please notice him!!!

🏈 You rarely did, but whenever you do, you'd go out of your way to push him off his high horse, lunches bought for you were repaid with you teasingly treating him to food, even feeding him which flustered him to no end.

🏈 Cheesy flirts were deflected towards him whenever you gave him little touches and the like. You made him feel so small, so inferior...he loved it.

🏈 You'd walk in the room, and he'd be in a strange pose looking at you come in, his head resting in his hand as he spread himself on your couch.

🏈 "Is it just me or did it just get hotter in here?"

🏈 But you paid no mind, in fact, you leaned over him, your hands supporting you on both sides of him evidently trapping him as his face goes red by you glaring at him. "Uh-uhm...wow, now it's actually getting hot in here..whew!"

🏈 You hated it, but his little moves started growing in you, eventually earning smiles and giggles from you as you hid your face from him, but you always scoffed and shoved him away afterwards.

🏈 But that changed when you heard from one of your friends that he turned down a girl who wanted to sleep with him. He'd never do that! Unless he already has someone in mind...oh no..

🏈 You tried your best to avoid him that day but of course he found you, he was about to spew out another pickup line when you grabbed him by his letterman jacket's collar and slammed him into the lockers, pinning him.

🏈 You asked if all along his flirting and gifts were all a ploy to get you to fuck him through seething teeth.

🏈 His sweat dropped as you pinned him, his face getting redder by the second.

🏈 He gets shy all of a sudden, looking down like a sad puppy, pulling at your heart. You sigh as you let go of him, walking away from him.

🏈 "One chance, my house." You say as you leave him there with his hand on the parts of his neck that got red from you grabbing his collar.

🏈 When he saw you leave, he pumped his fists in the air and ran to tell his friends you asked him out.

🏈 He drove to your house in the best clothes he had without making him seem desperate. He knocked on the door and you let him in. He's been to your house many times but never because of another reason than tutoring, this seemed more intimate to him somehow.

🏈 You sat him down and you two talked, if he really liked you, if he really wanted to be with you, if he really liked you not just for a one-night stand.

🏈 "Y-you really thought that?...Sorry it's just- I'm not good at this...actual relationships I mean..I know it sounds bad but-...yeah it is..but I really like you (Y/N)! You're smart and funny and awesome! and really cute..."

🏈 You never saw him so genuine, something in the way he sat so curtly, avoiding eye-contact with you, you knew he wasn't lying.

🏈 Your glare softened and a smile starts appearing on your face. You scoot nearer to him to ruffle his hair before pulling his head towards you for a kiss.

🏈 He melted into the kiss, putting a hand on your cheek, deepening the kiss.

🏈 You suddenly grab a chuck of his hair, pulling his head back. "If I find out this is all a joke, your ass is grass you hear me?"

🏈 b o n e r

[inkspiredwriting]

Silent Yearning

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five had first met Y/n at a coffee shop near the academy. He was waiting for his siblings, silently sipping his black coffee, when she walked in. The air seemed to change when she smiled at the barista, her laughter filling the room like a melody. Five's heart skipped a beat.

He’d watched her from his corner table, feeling a strange pull toward her. When their eyes met, he felt an instant connection, a spark he hadn’t experienced in his long, convoluted life. Despite the scars of time and the burdens he carried, Five felt a flicker of hope.

Y/n, oblivious to his inner turmoil, simply smiled back and went about her day.

Five’s encounters with Y/n became more frequent as if fate were drawing them together. They would often chat in the coffee shop, sharing stories and laughing over the absurdities of their respective lives. For the first time in ages, Five found himself looking forward to something other than his Job.

Their friendship grew, becoming a beacon of light in his otherwise chaotic existence. Five cherished every moment with Y/n, savoring the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions, the way she laughed at his dry humor, and the comforting warmth of her presence.

But as their bond deepened, Five noticed a shadow looming over his happiness—a shadow in the form of Y/n’s boyfriend, Michael.

Michael was everything Five wasn’t—charming, kind, and stable. He treated Y/n with a tenderness and respect that Five could only admire from afar. The sight of them together, holding hands or sharing a private joke, was like a knife twisting in Five’s chest.

Five kept his feelings hidden, burying his longing beneath a façade of stoic composure. He valued Y/n’s happiness more than his own and refused to let his desires complicate her life. But the pain of unspoken love gnawed at him, especially when he saw the way Y/n looked at Michael, with a love that was pure and unwavering.

One rainy evening, as Five sat in the coffee shop alone, he saw Y/n and Michael walk in, laughing and soaked from the rain. They took a seat near him, not noticing his presence.

“I have something for you,” Michael said, pulling out a small box. Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise and delight as he revealed a delicate necklace, shimmering with a simple elegance.

“It’s beautiful,” Y/n whispered, her eyes brimming with emotion as Michael fastened it around her neck.

Five watched, his heart heavy with sorrow. He wished he could be the one making her eyes sparkle with joy, the one who could make her feel loved and cherished. But he wasn’t. He was just a friend, an observer of the happiness he yearned to be part of.

Unable to bear the weight of his feelings any longer, Five decided to confide in Klaus, the only one who might understand his dilemma.

Sitting on the academy’s rooftop, with the city lights twinkling below, Five finally opened up. “I love her, Klaus,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “But she’s with someone else. And she’s happy.”

Klaus, for once, was silent, listening intently. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

Five shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. “Because it wouldn’t be fair to her. She deserves someone who can be there for her, someone who doesn’t come with the baggage of a broken timeline and a fractured soul.”

Klaus sighed, placing a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sometimes, the heart wants what it wants, Five. But you’re doing the right thing, even if it hurts.”

Five nodded, the weight of his unspoken love pressing down on him. He knew Klaus was right, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The inevitable day came when Y/n and Michael announced their engagement. Five attended the celebration, putting on a brave face, congratulating them with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

He watched from the sidelines as Y/n beamed with happiness, her eyes shining with a joy that made Five’s heart ache. As the evening wore on, he found himself retreating to the quiet of the balcony, staring out at the stars, lost in his thoughts.

Y/n found him there, her expression concerned. “Hey, you okay?” she asked softly.

Five forced a smile. “Yeah, just needed some air. It’s a big night for you.”

Y/n stepped closer, her eyes searching his. “I’m glad you’re here, Five. You mean a lot to me.”

Her words, meant to comfort, only deepened the pain. “You mean a lot to me too, Y/n,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I hope you know that.”

Y/n smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I do. Thank you.”

Five nodded, unable to say more. As Y/n walked back inside, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew he had to let her go, to accept that she would never be his. And despite the ache in his heart, he resolved to be happy for her, to cherish the moments they shared and to hold onto the memories of their friendship.

As the stars shimmered above, Five made a silent vow—to always be there for Y/n, even if it meant loving her from a distance. It was the least he could do for the woman who had brought light into his dark world, even if only for a brief moment.

Time moved on, and so did Five, carrying his unspoken love like a secret treasure. He continued his work, facing new challenges and navigating the complexities of his existence. But in the quiet moments, when the world was still and the weight of his responsibilities faded, he would think of Y/n and the love that could never be.

It was a bittersweet acceptance, a love that remained unspoken but forever cherished. And as Five looked up at the night sky, he found solace in knowing that some loves, though unfulfilled, could still bring a measure of peace to a restless heart.

[lokisprettygirl]

Twice the love (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern Au)

Chapter 1

Summary : You meet the love of your life during the worst night of your life but your man might not be who he claims to be.

Warning: Drowning, Resuscitation, Mention of suicidal ideation, alludes to cheating and smut

Note : I'm working on the next chapter of RTHF (I'm not abandoning it) but I had this little thing in my head so decided to write it down.

You remembered that night clearly as if it were yesterday, the night you had seen him for the first time, the night he had saved your life.

You had no intention of dying per say but you were drunk, depressed and lacked the most important skill one required before jumping into the water that was supposedly way deeper than 4 feet. Looking back now perhaps you wanted to die that night, or maybe you had a distorted sense of ideation but he had saved you.

You didn't remember much when he resuscitated you but you remembered his face, his angelic godly face, you remembered his greenish hazel eyes, his cheekbones that were sharper than your wit, and you remembered his silver hair, his curls wet and sticking onto his forehead.

“Come on darling, don't give up, you can't give up” 

You remembered hearing his soft murmur as he tried his best to pump the water out of your lungs.

You remembered his face vividly, but then you slipped into unconsciousness once more. When you awoke, you found yourself encircled by your friends, none of whom knew anything about the person who had saved your life, not even his name. He had quietly departed after ensuring you were safe amongst your loved ones.

From that moment onwards you felt as if you owed your life to him, an innate sense of gratitude filled your heart for that strange gentleman, it was as if that angelic man had stolen a part of your soul that you would never be able to reclaim again unless or until you see him but how were you supposed to find him? You didn't even know his name or where he had come from, all you remembered was his beautiful face.

You dreamt of him pretty often, innocuous dreams at first that became intimate later on, more than intimate if you were being honest with yourself, you saw his face so vividly as if he was actually there. You had committed every little feature to your memory, and everytime you woke up, you woke up with heavy breaths and a burning in your loins but then followed the disappointment and the emptiness, a void that you could never fill. 

It all came to a stop though, a year later you saw him in a bar, having drinks with his friends, before you could stop yourself your feet dragged you to him on their own, like a moth to a flame you approached him, gently tugging on his forearm to get his attention, you could hear his friends making crude jokes in the background but you didn't care at the moment..

Perhaps you should have cared, and you should have noticed how he had joined them instead of shutting it down immediately. You should have noticed. 

“Do you remember me?”

You mustered the courage to ask, your voice tinged with hope and a hint of vulnerability. He took one last swig of his drink before turning his attention towards you finally, looking at you from head to toe.

"Should I?" he inquired, his eyes meeting yours with a look of mild confusion. A year had passed since that night, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had forgotten you, a messed-up drunk stranger he had pulled from the water. Despite the doubts in your mind, you held onto a sliver of hope.

It was him, you wouldn't forget that face, that much you knew, he had been in your dreams almost every other night since that fateful one, he had been making it difficult for you to forget him.

“You saved my life two years ago, Margate beach?” You spoke nervously, sounding like an idiot probably so he chuckled and then smirked in response.

“Of Course i remember, how could I forget you love?” 

He told you and you breathed a sigh of relief as you heard those words.

He remembered you.

Now two years later you found yourself seated at a dinner rehearsal, some cousin of his you didn't even know or even heard of before.

He insisted you join him as his plus one even though he knew how important this week was for you and your late blooming career. You didn't want to upset him so you obliged, he had saved your life after all.

You didn't like upsetting him, you didn't like it when he got mad and raised his voice and-

“Excuse me, i think you're in the wrong seat” You heard a lady's voice so you got up and excused yourself as you stepped out of the lounge.

It didn't matter if he got upset sometimes, he had saved your life, perhaps he wasn't how you had imagined him to be in your head during that year you had dreamt of him but you loved him now and he made you happy…at times. It wasn't all bad.

You tried your best to make sure it wasn't all bad.

As you saw him leaning against the bannister in the corridor you approached him from behind and hugged him tightly. His familiar presence eased your anxiety a little.

“You brought me here and left me with people I don't know -”

You mumbled softly so he turned around, you didn't recognise the clothes he was wearing, a black suit you didn't even know he owned, it certainly wasn't his style, you were sure he had packed something else for the rehearsal dinner.

His eyes widened as he faced you and stared at you as if he was seeing you after a long time.

“You-” he spoke softly but then he paused for a moment, his eyes kept flickering, “You are okay” he continued so you looked at him confused,

“I'm okay yeah but I was missing you, I don't know anyone and I sat on the wrong seat like a moron” 

He placed his fingers on your cheek and caressed your skin, his touch felt different- softer, more loving, you couldn't really describe it but he seemed gentler, a feeling you have never had before with him, perhaps it was his surroundings, being around the family must have been comforting.

 It just bothered you how he had never told you anything about his family or his siblings but then you never told him about your family either, not because you didn't want to, but because he didn't ask.

In the past two years he never even asked why you were so drunk that night that you forgot you couldn't really swim.

Before your thoughts could spiral you cradled his cheeks between your palms and got on your tiptoes to kiss him ever so tenderly. He seemed as if he was taken aback for a moment but then he reciprocated the kiss, you felt your whole body lighting up as he moved his lips against yours, his touch felt soothing, like warm fire in cold winter, he tasted different and he smelled different so you pulled away to look at him for a moment as you couldn't really make sense of it. 

“Ray-” You spoke nervously but then you heard his voice.

“I see you have met my twin, love” 

You heard his voice so you looked behind in shock, you found your boyfriend of two years standing right behind you, the man who had saved your life staring back at you or so you thought.

“Raymond” You gulped in confusion as you said his name so he walked towards you and placed his arm around your waist to pull your closer, his fingers digging into your waist almost painfully, in the surrealism of the moment you didn't notice how how his hair looked the same way it did after he made love to you or how there was a red mark on his neck that you certainly didn't give him.

“Your brother?” You mumbled as you looked at the man in front of you, the man you had kissed just now, the man whose kiss had made you feel alive again, almost like that night when he had-

As your eyes welled up he furrowed his brows and brought his hand forward-

“Daemon.. Daemon Targaryen, it's good to see you..again.. darling”

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Chapter 2

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Hello, I just wanted to tell you that I love how you write!!!!...and I was wondering if I could ask for Geo x friendly reader with everyone, only if it is possible 🙌

Serenity within Camaraderie (Geo x Friendly and Kind! MC/Reader)

Hope you enjoy Anon! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Camaraderie: mutual trust and friendship among people who spend a lot of time together.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were possibly one of the most amiable people to have ever lived.

You were kind, respectful, honest, sweet.

You treated everyone well...you made people feel hopeful, calm, content.

It wasn't for show either.

Your heart was gilded and gold, opulent and adorned with angels. Like you. You were an angel.

In Geo's cold, hardened heart, you were like a flame.

Hot tongues that wrapped around his frozen soul, warming it until the ice and numbness melted away.

When Crowe first introduced you to the group, Geo was sceptical.

Nobody was simply nice for the sake of it, there had to be an aim, a desire, a goal involved. (He has no self-worth)

He reacted more hostile to you in the beginning, he wanted you to leave, to have that stupid niceness leave.

He wanted you to avoid him, hell, even insulting him would make more sense.

Kindness? Showing him respect and caring for him because he fucking exists? His bullshit detector is blaring.

Will try and sus out anything remotely strange that you do, trying to see if you have ulterior motives...

Well, until he asks you. Maybe with a bit of an underlying threat. "What's your motive." "My what?" "Nobody is as nice and polite as you without wanting something." "I mean...yeah. I guess." "So what're you after? Money, influence-" "I just wanna be friends Geo! Jeez!"

After a while, Geo does notice how charmingly sweet you are.

No matter who it may be, you always treated people with kindness, with respect. You made people at ease with your friendliness.

So he starts to accept that might just be your nature.

You treat people the way you want to be treated, with kindness, love and respect.

Then he slowly starts to realise how popular you are.

And...well...he dislikes it.

Your attention is elsewhere, is it not? Always trying to help out others, trying to support and be the pillar for the skies that are the student body.

Geo wanted you to stick with the group, to stick with him.

He'd never confess that of course, but he would try to use his reputation and intimidation to slowly get people away from you, much to your dismay.

You often grew sad when people pushed you away, telling them that they simply were too busy for you.

Well, except his group, along with his stupid brother and his friend.

So, despite his plans working, he decides to let you be as long as he his group are your priority.

Your favourites.

Your best friends.

He wants you to get attached, because then you won't go.

You won't abandon him for the hundreds of other people whom adore and cherish you.

And soon, you don't.

You hang out with the group, you grow close to Brittney, Jess and Deryl, before slowly worming your way further into his gelid, stone heart.

He fears the effect you have, he fears what would happen if his stoic facade were to collapse under the weight of your benevolence.

He doesn't think he deserves to be cared for by you...but alas, you continue to be your amiable self.

You tell him things about your day, while he is slowly panning out all the priceless nuggets of information that he has on you.

He will eventually start being more open to you.

Well, as open as Geo can be.

But you don't mind, you're just happy he wants to talk to you.

And it warms his heart bit by bit.

Seeing your smile when you wave to him.

He wants more. And he'll get more.

Will he eventually realise his feelings? Debatable.

But he does care for you, and if you happen to like him back? He'll accept. Quietly. "So...uh...wanna. Ehem, uh. Do you wanna hang out...some...sometime?" "Fine...sure."

He will be a bit caught off guard. And frankly, can you blame him? He's never been loved a day in his life.

But you're gonna change that. Bit by bit.

And slowly, your warmth, your kindness, your friendliness cracks Geo(de)'s cold exterior more and more. Until little cracks form, and from those cracks you see slits of a beautiful heart of gold, one filled with love, but frozen under endless layers of 'security'.

You'll make sure he relearns, that he understands that he's perfect the way he is.

And he'll slowly, after a long time, start to believe it.

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 2

Art Donaldson x reader : slow burn friends to lovers

I really hope you enjoy this Chapter, I’m enjoying writing this a lot. Somehow I’ve never done proper friends to lovers before, I tend to do established relationships. Enjoy! 🎾✨

Part 1

———————————————————————

It had been nine days since Art moved in. Nine days and you weren’t quite sure if you were more desperate for him to stay forever or leave immediately. Truthfully, your anxiety had never been as up and down as it was now. Sometimes you’d catch yourself watching the door waiting for him to return when you were writing an essay in the living room, only to be met by Patrick and scream at the sound of the key turning.

Your nerves were fried from frantically changing whenever you thought Art might come into your room to ask you a question and from convincing yourself you hadn’t locked the shower when he was home when you had. You always did. It was already becoming a little exhausting worrying so much about him catching you existing freely in your own home but Patrick had no such worries. In fact he seemed to be walking round the flat naked more often than he did when it was just the two of you- something neither you or Art condoned.

The biggest pro to having Art around was that you had his kinder perspective on issues as well as Patrick’s unforgiving honest one. It had already become normal to have Patrick passionately raising his voice at you for not being angrier at someone whilst Art reassured you that it was okay you were giving them a second chance. It was like having a devil in one ear and an angel in the other. You often refused to pick a side as it only riled the two of them up.

——————————————————————

1:45pm - text from Patrick

Staying at my girls house this weekend ;) there’s pasta in the fridge for you guys

Your classes had already finished for the day, there were only so many hours your professors could regurgitate the same theory to you before giving up. With the end of your time at Stanford University on the horizon you’d have to start actually thinking of job ideas that paid. It was a sickening thought, one that your professor kept forcing you to think about but you pushed away.

You clicked your phone to standby and thought about how you were going to fill the weekend without Patrick’s antics. Art could very easily spend the entire time whacking tennis balls back and forth until he sweat out his body weight but you had no such luck. Tennis wasn’t actually your thing at all, it was the main thing you and Patrick had always disagreed on. For years he tried and failed to get you to play with him: ‘be my doubles partner c’mon you know you want to!’ but you were not easily convinced. You didn’t mind watching Patrick play though, to be a good friend, but the truth was if Art wasn’t on the court you were disillusioned.

By the time you heard Art return, you’d proof read your essay seven times and submitted it. That had been the last job to do before your weekend off and it was over.

‘Y/N?’

He called out for you like he’d done it a million times, almost like you were married. You couldn’t help the way you shot out of bed, feeling elated to see him again despite it not being 9 hours since you last had.

You poked your head out of your room only to be met by an extremely sweaty Art Donaldson in your hallway. He was wearing your favourite outfit of his: red and white gym wear and a cap on backwards. It could have easily looked douchey on someone else but Art could pull anything off.

‘I’m gonna get a shower. Take out after?’

You barely heard his offer, instead focusing your gaze on the way his wet shirt clung to his muscles. He almost missed the way your eyes refocused as you diverted your cloudy stare back to his face.

‘Yep perfect.’

Patrick would be offended you chose pizza over his homemade leftovers but he’d live.

‘Okay great.’

Art had a strange relationship with fast food, he craved it but he was terrified at the thought of any and all decisions holding his tennis career back. You’d already noticed how much longer his workouts were the day after pizza.

Just as you thought to add that you wanted extra cheese on your half you felt the familiar sensation of your period starting.

Lock…

‘Art?’

He couldn’t hear you over the shower water.

‘Art!’

If only you had two bathrooms.

‘Donaldson I’m bleeding to death!’ You banged your fists loudly on the door. Was he deaf? You were going to leave a bloody mess on the carpet if he didn’t let you in soon. A few frantic movements later, including a distinct unlocking sound, and you were rushing pash Art to the toilet without a word. You knew he’d leave the second he realised what you were about to do but even so you didn’t care. In a few seconds the bathroom would look like a murder scene with or without him as a witness.

‘Sorry…’ you cleared your throat, looking up at Art, who was standing confused in only a towel. In your embarrassment you almost didn’t notice, choosing instead to rush into the safety of your room away from Art and his dripping torso.

Twenty minutes of scrolling later and your stomach was rumbling uncontrollably. Like clockwork Art knocked on your door, entered and told you in a quiet voice that the pizza arrived. When you didn’t respond he smiled. ‘Extra cheese.’ Even Patrick forgot to add that for you sometimes.

——————————————————————

‘Dip please.’

Art obliged, passing you the garlic sauce from his position on the floor. He’d sat down there to set up the ancient dvd player (‘Jaws’ wasn’t on Netflix) and never got up. ‘This film terrified me as a child.’ He mumbled, mid chew. ‘I didn’t go in the ocean for almost three years.’

A smile formed as you pictured a tiny Art Donaldson hiding under the covers from the shark he found too scary to look at. You’d never seen a photo of him younger than about fourteen but you could imagine that he was an adorable kid - the kind strangers called ‘a bundle of joy’.

‘I love the ocean, it’s one of the only places I never get sick of. Never.’

Art turned to look at you, eager to show he was listening.

‘Any time my mum could she’d take us to the beach for picnics, you know 1000 steps?’ He nodded at you. ‘That one was my favourite. There was a secret pool. I used to pretend I was a mermaid.’ You suddenly went quiet, remembering one time you fell and cut your leg on a particularly unforgiving rock and your Mum had to drag you home crying because you still wanted to play mermaids. You were a dedicated child.

Art took a large bite of pizza and looked up at you on your little sofa thrown. ‘You don’t do that anymore?’

‘Do what?’

The left corner of his mouth curled up slightly, an almost smirk. ‘Play mermaids.’

‘Ah, no. Not anymore.’

You dusted off the crumbs from your palms and lowered your head, feeling almost genuinely sad for a moment not to still be young and free: away from University stress and job worries. Away from all worries really.

‘Shame.’

Before you could say anything the best scene came on and as Quint recalled the doll quality of shark eyes your phone lit up.

8:16pm - text from Patrick

Her parents don’t like me but I’m slowly winning them over they’ll love me in no time hows art? Is he being boring?

Art watched you type for a moment before making a correct assumption. ‘Is that Patrick? Tell him he owes me five dollars.’

8:17pm - text to Patrick

We’re fine watching jaws rn Art says you owe him five dollars?

8:17pm - text from Patrick

I really don’t.

‘Art, he’s saying he doesn’t.’

Suddenly filled with energy, Art leapt off the floor to grab his phone and type feverishly to his friend. You watched him type for a moment, his fingers moving with impressive speed almost enough to make you picture something interesting. Almost.

‘What were you betting on? Do I even wanna know?’

If it was tennis scores, Patrick usually lost those. You’d been there in 2019 when Nadal won the US open instead of Medvedev and most of the living room had paid the price for it. Rest in peace glass side table. So long red planter pot.

Art suddenly looked guilty for a moment, he put his phone down and breathed. ‘He bet that you wouldn’t see me half naked until two weeks in.’ So not a tennis bet. ‘I said it’d be earlier, yknow given how small this place is and how I sometimes forget to lock the bathroom.’ Now you were confused, Art had never once forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Not even when he was, similar to you, so desperate he sent Patrick flying backwards to clear a path. The man loved his privacy.

‘I figured it was tennis related.’ You shrugged, finishing the last of your pizza.

Art scoffed slightly, before clearing his throat. ‘Not everything me and Patrick talk about is tennis related.’

‘But it is mostly about tennis right, I mean, it’s your entire life. It seems to be who you are, that’s why I made you watch ‘Jaws’ instead of SkySports for a change. Mix things up a bit.’ You smiled, playfully, knowing he couldn’t disagree with anything you said.

‘My entire life is not tennis.’

‘Isn’t it?’

He didn’t respond.

Chapter 3

Masterlist

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part three

art by the insanely talented @stainedlilac!

author’s note: sorry for the delay but i've been tinkering with this for a few months! i get married in a week so this is my wedding gift to you all. it's here and he's stoney-baloneyed and hot and bad and our poor reader is falling right into his trap. we got some defiling of a scarf this chapter. it's about 4.1k words. part one here, part two here. ao3 linky.

“She’s not even listening!”

Your eyes blink into focus on Catherine who is laughing. You groan and lovingly give her a dirty look.

“It’s Friday, let me zone out if I want to.” You slouch in your seat and twirl your glass in your hands. What had they been talking about? You try to remember but they are right — you absolutely have not been listening and you do feel bad about it. It’s been harder to make plans ever since you started your new job, despite the normal hours. Most nights you come home exhausted but also strangely excited for the next day to start. This is the first time you’ve seen your friends since and you should at least try to pay attention. 

“Okay, okay I guess zoning out is okay. I guess you can’t do too much of that at your new job?” Erica chimes in and leans over the table closer to you. “I feel like whenever we didn’t have calls we would always have these zone out staring contests.” 

“Oh my gosh, yes. And then we would realize that we’ve been staring at each other for a weird amount of time.” You give a soft laugh. You do miss working with Erica but you don’t miss the job. Catherine starts to chime in about how she barely has any time to zone out as a teacher and your mind starts to drift again, having heard this kind of talk from her so many times before. 

You think about what happened today. There have been situations over the last few weeks that made you ache in ways you know you shouldn’t for your boss but today might have been the most intense one yet.

You can’t stop thinking about it. 

***

You walk into the den and immediately smell the strong aroma of marijuana which means that you are getting goofy Terzo. There is still some hesitation in your steps, not wanting to bother him especially since from what you can see he is in the middle of watching something. You take a few moments to scan over the den. In the corner of the room is a wooden bar with a fancy cabinet behind it filled with fancy liquors and crystal glasses. You’re surprised by how stylish this room is compared to the rest but then again, the lights are off. 

Terzo is snuggled up on the couch in a t-shirt and shorts, his body draped across the couch entwined in a blanket. Your gaze drifts to the television and you gasp, giving up your position in the room. Terzo’s eyes immediately find you and he gives you a sleepy, sideways grin. His makeup is smudged which is common but it looks particularly messed up around his eyes. He’s been wanting you to come in here to see him, his mind wandering from the television every so often to think what would happen if you did — and now you’re here. 

“Ah, toppolino! Come, have a seat.” He slinks into the corner of the couch, offering you the space next to him as he gives it a few pat, heavy-lidded eyes giving you a flirty look. You swallow thickly, hesitating for what feels like an eternity before you relent, your feet feeling heavy as you walk over to the couch. You take a seat where he gestured and he’s quick to offer you the half-lit joint between his fingers, his shoulder leaning against yours as he quirks a brow. A breath catches in your throat — you’ve worked for him for weeks now and he always offered but something always held you back from accepting. 

Not today. 

You take a deep, long drag as he holds the lighter to the joint, his eyes never leaving your face. It burns but you don’t cough, perhaps trying a bit too hard not to. Terzo is so pleased, his smile only widening as he watches you inhale and exhale the weed. He feels a rush from you finally giving into this temptation, having tried to lure you in since you started. You don’t know that he’s been eagerly awaiting you to accept because he saw it as another step closer to doing what he wants with you. He’s slowly trying to wear away at your boundaries, especially after your reaction to him raising his voice to you. Terzo knew he could get you to play along. 

You feel him relax next to you, leaning in to rest his head on your shoulder as he turns his attention back to the television. Your eyes stay trained on the floor for a long moment, caught off guard by him. A blush rises to your cheeks. You choose not to think too hard about it and end up being your gaze up to focus on the footage playing. 

“I didn’t think you were in an acoustic band.” You say after a long moment of silence, becoming distracted by the video. It’s of him, dressed in the clothes you’ve grown so used to seeing in photos, performing to a small crowd of people, flanked by two men in masks. Terzo laughs, deep and full, and it makes you smile. He doesn’t laugh like that often. 

“I am a man of many talents, puffetta. This was to give the public a little taste of myself and the new album. We did a handful of these acoustic shows.” He picks up some blanket and smoothes it over your lap, heat rising through your chest up to your cheeks as his hand lingers in your lap for a moment. He notices. He always notices. Fingers lightly drift up the top of your thigh before he gently takes your hand in his. Your breath catches in your throat. Terzo’s touch is so soft, his hands feeling like butter as he places your own in his lap.

“You have a very nice singing voice.” Your voice comes out quiet like a house, almost shy about complimenting him on his talents. But in truth, it draws you in like a siren song. The way he moves his body, using his hands to accentuate the lyrics, and the deep eye contact with the camera and those in the crowd, is all but an act of seduction. You almost catch yourself swooning at the way he croons before remembering that he is sitting right beside you on the couch, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand that’s currently in his lap. The weed is hitting and you find yourself staring at the way his thumb moves, the way it feels against your skin, your eyes hazy and your cheeks starting to burn.  

“Grazie a mile. I see you like my dance moves too, eh?” He nudges you playfully and you giggle. Giggle! The weed is hitting. You are comfortable next to him, eyes hazy as your attention shifts from him to the videos and then back to him every so often. The more you look at him the more you notice how the brightness of his face starts to fade until his lips are pressed into a straight line. Maybe it’s difficult for him to watch this, his glory days, which seem to be such a thing of the past for some reason. 

“Have you thought about getting the band back together? Or doing some solo shows or something? You look like you belong on the stage.” 

“It doesn’t work like that, toppolino. My time was up and that was that.” He gives a sigh, shaking his head. There’s genuine sadness in his voice. You don’t understand how it could be so difficult for him to perform again but you choose not to pry. If he wants to talk about it, he would and his short response tells you all that you need to know. Silence passes between the two of you and Terzo lets go of your hand only to curl both of his arms around your waist. You rest your own hands on your stomach and he places his own on top of yours, fingers stroking gently at your wrists. It’s like he knows every way to take your breath away.

Terzo slips his shoulder behind your back, his chest pressing against you and he rests his head on your own shoulder. The two of you continue watching in comfortable silence, his wonderful singing voice filling your ears, his quips and jokes making you giggle. You feel moved by his former self and you feel… bad for him. You never had before but now, seeing how much he thrived in front of a crowd, how at ease he was and how their energy fed him compared to him living completely alone in a giant house makes your heart feel heavy in your chest. It doesn’t last too long, though, his deft touch and the way his exhales tickle your neck clouding your mind along with the weed.

Even with the slightly uncomfortable topic of conversation, Terzo is buzzing. It is taking all of his self control not to pull you into his lap and slip his hands between your legs, to feel if you are as aroused as he is right now. He wants to taste you. He wants to make you whine, to make tears stream down your face from how good he makes you feel, to hear his name dangling off your lips while you are completely at his mercy. Terzo grits his teeth as he holds himself back, trying to revel in the moment without pushing too far.

You start to feel hot. Tension building inside of you that is making it hard to focus on the video. You become all too aware of the way you’re breathing, chest rising and falling with each deep intake of air. Your head starts to feel heavy and you lean back, further pressing your back against Terzo’s chest. He makes a quiet, surprised groan, his hands squeezing your wrists tighter. Your cheeks flush and you feel a familiar throb between your thighs, shifting your body to try and stifle it but it just makes you press even further into him. It feels like something is about to snap inside, a bad decision about to happen even though it’s all you want right now until —

ZAP! 

You swear you see a flash of green and then there’s a sharp pain on one of your wrists. A surprised yelp spills out of you and you quickly snatch your hand from his grip. Terzo moves impossibly fast, somehow already on his knees in front of you, your delicate wrist already in his hand. 

“Oh no, have I hurt you?” He sounds sick with worry, his fingers lightly brushing over the spot.

“Just a shock. It’s all—“

“Non muoverti, prendo del ghiaccio.” Terzo murmurs and climbs quickly to his feet, leaving you alone in the room as videos of him play on the tv. You have no idea what he said. You run the pad of your thumb lightly over your wrist, reaching the mark only for it to sting from your touch. He’s back and on his knees before you again, already having your wrist in hand as he presses an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel to it. His sleepy, black locks fall into his face as he looks up at you. You watch as he stays focused on you and your reactions while he knits his brows, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Care is written all over his face.

It makes you feel wanted. 

“I am so sorry, toppolino.” His voice cracks as his eyes drop down to your wrist. He wants to kiss it better so badly. How could he have done that to you? What even was that? Terzo’s mind flickers back to how you felt against him, how warm you were in his arms. He feels a pang of anger for having that moment ripped from him. You reach out and lightly tousle his hair.

“Don’t worry.” You smile shyly and pull the ice cube from his hand so that you can hold it yourself. “I should check how the landscaper is doing.” You almost feel guilty for leaving him but you’re a teensy bit too high to handle the intensity that is radiating off of him. Terzo nods slowly but he still stays kneeling in front of you as you stand. The look in his eyes sends shivers down your spine. You reach out and ruffle his hair as another reassurance but you can’t help but get caught up feeling how soft it is beneath your fingers before leaving the room. 

Terzo stays on his knees and presses his face against the cushion of the couch after you’ve gone. Your scent lingers on the blanket. He groans quietly and digs his hands into it, bringing it up to his face. He was so close. So close. Terzo could almost taste you.

How much longer could he wait?

***

“New job is taking up a lot of your time, huh?” Erica asks as you eye your drink, contemplating if you should have another. There’s judgment in her voice but you ignore it, chalking it up to her being maybe a little bit jealous that you’ve escaped the call center. 

“Oh, definitely. He’s kind of a mess.” You smile and end up sliding your drink to the center of the table, deciding you’re finished for the night. It is Friday but you still have to drive home and you’re not trying to stay out for longer than you have to. “Rich, though. And also loves weed.”

“He sounds perfect. Maybe you found yourself a sugar daddy.” Catherine speaks up and you find your cheeks flushing red. It’s not the first time you’ve thought of Terzo as daddy. 

“He’s already paying me a lot.” You give a shrug, attempting to push the thought of how he had yelled at you, his anger making your core ache for him in a way you’ve never felt before. “But maybe — I might be open to it.” They both giggle. Your mind starts to wander, thinking about what he might be doing now. 

Terzo clocked the scarf you removed from your neck that morning. It’s a deep red with a black floral design and a silky texture. You left it on the entryway table and when you left for the day you didn’t notice that it was gone. In fact, you completely forgot all about it. Terzo had grabbed it and slipped it into his pocket before scurrying up the stairs to hide it away in his bedroom. Now, he is laying in bed with it in his hands, feeling the soft satin against his fingers. Maybe he would keep it forever, hidden away in a drawer in his room for him to use when he is missing you. Maybe he’d start a collection of your things.

He hums quietly, tilting his head back against one of his pillows as he brings the scarf to his face. Terzo takes a deep inhale, breathing in your scent and then giving a rumbling moan. He was so close to having you today. He could see it in your eyes how badly you wanted him and then he ruined it. Terzo pulls the scarf from his face, dragging it down his chest before settling it against his shorts. His cock is already bulging and throbbing underneath the fabric just from your scent and reminiscing about earlier in the day. He is certain that the seed is planted, all it needs to do now is take root and grow.

But it would have been so easy to take you today. He could have moved his hand closer and closer to that spot between your legs, lightly drifting his fingers along the seams until you couldn’t take it anymore, begging for him to go just a bit further. You would have spread your legs wide from him as his hand slipped down your pants, toying with the waistband of your panties. 

“Fuck.” Terzo’s hips jerk from the scene he has come up with in his mind, pressing your scarf more firmly against his bulge. His thoughts are a blur now, jumping ahead in his little fantasy to think about how your tight little cunt might feel around his pulsing cock. Terzo would keep you in his lap, hands firm on your hips as he pushes in as deep as he possibly could. He imagines what you might sound like, soft little sounds spilling from your lips while you take him. And then, he would stay still and make you squirm, make you beg for him to move his hips, to take you and –

A growl catches in his throat as he makes a mess in his shorts, his hips stuttering and his free hand fisting into the covers. Terzo could never finish out his fantasies of you, always reaching the point of no return before any real action could be thought up. His chest rises and falls, giving strangled breaths as he closes his eyes. How long would he last when he finally fucks you? His lips curl into a small smile at the thought – even if he cums early he would make sure to play with you until you're a whimpering mess. He sits up in bed and lifts the scarf to examine the damage: if there are any cum stains on it. None that he could see. He hums in satisfaction, dropping the scarf back in his lap but his gaze stays fixed on it.

An idea crosses his mind. 

You’re about to ask for the check when your phone lights up. A frown crosses your face as you focus on the message preview.

You left your scarf. Come get it. Now.

“What is it?” The concern in Erica’s voice snaps you out of your trance. The color has drained from your face, anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach from his tone. You left your scarf and Terzo sounds pissed about it. Is he in one of his moods? He has hardly ever texted you nor has he asked you to come by after hours before. You suck in a deep breath and grab your phone, slipping it into your coat pocket.

“Duty calls.” You offer a weak smile, your heart pounding in your ears. “Everything’s fine. Uh, just shoot me a venmo request for what I owe for dinner, alright?” Before they get a chance to respond you’re walking away from the table, brisk steps as your breathing starts to speed up. You can’t help but feel like you’re in trouble even though you don’t know how leaving a scarf could be a punishable offense. Your brain typically jumps to the worst possible conclusion, especially when your boss is the one aggressively texting you at 7:30pm on a Friday evening.

“Hey! Wait!” Catherine is chasing after you, nearly out of breath. You blink and realize you’re already at your car door, your feet having taken you where you needed to go while your mind raced. 

“I said you could shoot me a Venmo request—“

“No, no, this isn’t about that. I promised my brother I would ask you-“

“Dylan?” 

“Y-yeah, he’s been asking about you. A lot. He wanted me to ask if you were interested in getting dinner with him sometime.” Catherine is nearly out of breath as she rattles the question off to you. To say you are frazzled is an understatement. You’ve had a crush on Dylan since you were a kid and even though so much time has passed since then, the two of you having grown up, you still had a soft spot for him. You wish you could take a moment to fully comprehend the fact that your childhood crush is asking you out for dinner (through his sister, which isn’t the best but can’t win ‘em all) but the gnawing stress of Terzo’s text overrides everything. 

“Sure, yeah!” You are frantic, quickly getting into your car and then shouting through your window that is not rolled down. “Give him my number or whatever!”

And you’re driving away. There is no way you can think about anything right now, your thoughts running together in strings that make no sense. But there’s no way Terzo could be mad at you because you haven’t done anything wrong. Your feet slam on the breaks, throwing your car into park and opening your door in one swift movement. The rambling thoughts that had been clouding your brain disappear once you see him standing on his porch, waiting for you. You suck in a deep breath and hold it for a moment before getting out of the car, forcing yourself to mellow out. The last thing you want to do is march up there guns blazing. 

He is absolutely delighted. You came when he texted, sparing no time and not even giving him a heads up you were on your way over. He must have weaseled his way deep into your head and it makes groan to himself, eyeing you in your car. Terzo wonders what else he could ask of you. 

“Buonasera, toppolino! You did not answer my text.” Terzo waves to you, the scarf dangling off of his fingers. He doesn’t sound angry whatsoever which is baffling to you. You end up standing right in front of the porch steps and he is towering over you on the top step, his shoulders broad in his smoking jacket. Terzo’s face is blank but there is a spark of mischief in his eyes as he starts to twirl the scarf in front of you. “Is this a gift you left me, eh?” He’s wearing his smoking jacket again but with a dress shirt underneath that is tastefully unbuttoned to expose his dark chest hair. You’ve seen it plenty of times before — he had a knack for being shirtless in front of you but this felt far more enticing, like he had framed his chest just for you.

“I forgot it! I don't even remember wearing a scarf this morning.” You cross your arms, eyes narrowing at him. Still a goof it seems. “Was it really important to have me pick it up now? Was my scarf bothering you?” You’re teasing but there is an edge to your voice because how could you not be annoyed at the situation? He worked you up for no reason. You left dinner with friends for this. Terzo’s lips twitch into a grin and he tilts his head, eyeing you suggestively. 

“Scusi? I am being a gentleman, puffetta.” He dramatically walks down the stairs until he is on the last step, still towering above you as he brings the scarf up to your neck. Your breath catches when his fingertips brush along your neck, looping the scarf around your neck and making sure to touch your tender skin more than is necessary. “I don’t want that pretty little neck of yours to get chilly.” You forget why you were frustrated with him in the first place as he touches you, your lips quivering and your skin burning from the sensation. Terzo is so handsome in this light, the dark paints around his eyes making his mismatched irises glow. He cups your jaw and tilts your head back, looking over his work of tying your scarf firmly around your neck, thumb lightly grazing along your cheek.

You look delicious to him with your lips parted and your eyes half-lidded. Terzo could easily take it too far, he thinks about gripping your neck and squeezing just to see what would happen but baby steps. You would be begging for him to touch you sooner or later. His thumb swipes at the corner of your lips before pulling his hand away from you and taking a step back up another stair, miraculously not tripping over his own feet. The two of you stand still and stare at each other before finally you adjust the scarf around your neck that he tied just a tad too.

“What does puffetta mean?” You break the silence. Terzo’s brows shoot up as he tucks his hands into his jacket pockets, giving a small shrug.

“Smurfette.”

“Smurfette?!” That has never been one of your guesses. 

“A term of endearment, puffetta.” He watches you flounder deliciously. “I’ll see you Monday morning.” Terzo winks and turns on heel, walking inside his quiet mansion and turning off the porch light to leave you in darkness. 

The nerve of him. The absolute gall to have you show up here only for him to dismiss you so quickly. You breathe heavy, realizing that your legs are wobbling from the way he had touched you. 

You want more.

[sl-vega]

⋆˚✿˖° BLOSSOMING LOVE

pairings: Bachira Meguru, Isagi Yoichi x [GN!] Reader

genre: headcanon/drabbles, imagines, fluff, can be read as canon compliant/pre-bluelock au or school/no bluelock au

synopsis: flowers that the bluelock boys would give you at different stages in your relationship

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, potential inaccuracies with flower language, might make a second part with different characters if people want it.

BACHIRA MEGURU

˚୨୧⋆｡ STAGE ONE; PUPPY LOVE

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ DAFFODILS

daffodils are bright and sunny, just like the strange boy who seemed to develop an affinity towards you

"don't they remind you of me?" :D

Is what he'd probably say with the brightest smile on his face as he'd eagerly hand them to you

Bachira would probably hand them to you on the daily, sometimes he'd freshly pick them on his way to school, and while they were impulsive gifts, that doesn't mean he doesn't put effort into making them presentable

he'll usually add a matching pastel yellow ribbon to them, sometimes borrowing his mother's art supplies to fancy them up

You always thought the boy was rather...

peculiar, to say the least

but you could sense that Bachira meant well, he was incredibly open about his feelings towards you, he would never directly state that he was attracted to you, but it was rather obvious

you'd often catch him staring at you in class, shamelessly admiring your features or making eye contact that was way too close for comfort, and he'd never deny it if you ever caught him

of course, whenever you did, the boy would simply slide you a mini bouquet of daffodils with a cheeky smile, and a cute little note attached to it

ᥫ᭡ STAGE TWO; MORE THAN FRIENDS, LESS THAN LOVERS

╰┈➤ flower of choice: DAISIES

upon actually getting to know meguru, you realized that he was actually quite fun to be around

the boy's personality and smile was rather infectious, not that you were complaining

despite his extroverted and chatty nature, he was a pretty good listener

after becoming properly acquainted with the boy, you found yourself spending more and more time with bachira

some of your classmates had already assumed the two of you were together with how clingy the boy would be towards you, following you around like a lost puppy

sometimes, whenever he would accompany you on your way to school, he'd surprise you with little daisy chains he made on his way there

at first they'd be a little lopsided, but after seeing how much you liked the chains, he started to get better and better at them

he'd often place them on your head during lunch hours, or give them to you as bracelets, sometimes adorned with little clay or polymer charms that his mother would help him make

at this point in your relationship, he'd retire from attaching little notes to his flowers, one, because they weigh down the daisy chains, two because they make the flowers look less pretty and all lopsided, and three, because why write notes when he's perfectly comfortable telling you how he feels?

at this point in what you assume is a friendship with bachira, you can't seem to decide what you should label your relationship as

with how shameless the boy is around you, you're certain that you're supposed to be more than friends, but he hasn't fully committed to you yet

sure situationships suck, but with meguru, it's a little more bearable

୨♡୧ STAGE THREE: CONFESSION

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ✿ JONQUIL (NARCISSUS)

could you even label it as a confession?

is what you kept asking yourself as bachira held out the bright yellow petals as he professed his love to you in an oddly bashful way

much like how the narcissus is shameless in it's own beauty, bachira was shameless in his own love for you

except for now that is, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes was replaced with something else, something genuine and sincere

you already knew that he had feelings for you, all your classmates knew that he had feelings for you, at this rate, he may as well just shout it from the roof tops that he's head over heels in love with you

yet right here, right now, the few simple words that you thought you had been expecting all along, they had felt like a wave coming over you

you saw it coming, yet it had still shocked you

of course, you accepted his confession, how could you deny him at this rate?

he already had you far under his spell, even if he never realized it

𔓘 STAGE FOUR; TOGETHER-TOGETHER

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ YELLOW TULIPS

even after he's finally won you over, bachira still makes a point to surprise you with cute gifts

flowers included

tulips represent deep, true love

coincidence?

not at all

sometimes, when he's luck and you let him play with your hair, he'll weave flowers into it, sometimes daffodils, sometimes daisies, sometimes jonquils, and most of the time tulips

you say that they look a little lopsided in your hair and that it makes you look strange, but meguru always assures you that you look gorgeous no matter what

it's safe to say that the tulips perfectly convey how he feels about you, deep and truly in love

ISAGI YOICHI

˚୨୧⋆｡ STAGE ONE; PUPPY LOVE

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ GREEN ZINNIAS

when isagi first meets you, he's incredibly taken by you, head over heels, love at first sight, lovesick, you name it, he felt it

unlike bachira he's rather reserved when it comes to his feelings for you, he's hardly ever talked to you so actually making a move and trying to flirt is way out of the question

so he settles for becoming your secret admirer, discreetly leaving small bunches of zinnias in your locker

he didn't know what to give you at first, but after stumbling upon these lovely blossoms in a flower shop, he thought that they would suit the situation quite nicely

occasionally, on the days where he was feeling bold, he would leave a note with a short message along the lines of;

"you have a nice smile :D" -your secret admirer

sometimes, isagi would hang back as you got stuff from your locker just to see your reaction, it was always positive, and his heart would always leap into his throat whenever he saw you smile at his corny little messages

you had your suspicions about the boy, he wasn't the best liar either, but you never questioned him too much whenever you caught him lurking

it was rather cute honestly, he was rather intense whenever you saw him play soccer out on the field, but he was so bashful around you, a bit of a dork too

somehow you still hadn't put two and two together and realize that the was your secret admirer

isagi found your obliviousness adorable however

ᥫ᭡ STAGE TWO; MORE THAN FRIENDS, LESS THAN LOVERS

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ GARDENIAS

after some time had passed, you and isagi had started hanging out more, and more and you had developed a close friendship with the boy

all while you still didn't know that he was your secret admirer

after becoming well acquainted with yoichi, you started to develop feelings for him, making you care less about your secret admirer, who's true identity was still a mystery to you

isagi, like the oblivious boy he was, didn't pick up on your newfound feelings for him, and only saw your decreasing interest in your admirer

perhaps you found out it was him and this was your way of letting him down easy

his head was always swarmed with thoughts of what he could've done to make you seem a lot more distant towards his anonymous affection

so he decided to change things up a little

he heard from a friend of a friend that you thought gardenias were pretty

so isagi "head over heels for you" yoichi decided that the only logical course of action was to buy you some gardenias, bunched together and carefully arranged, and wrapped with a lovely silky bow

upon doing some reading into it, isagi found out that gardenias actually symbolize "hidden love" which made it even more perfect for the current situation

he even included a cute little card with the meaning on it after he slipped the bouquet in your locker

over time, you'd grow fonder of the gifts once more, and isagi, like the sly little bastard he is, would always try to be slick whenever he asked you about the gifts

"so you have a secret admirer huh? cool, cool. hypothetically, if they got you this colour of gardenias, would you like them?"

and surprise, surprise, those very flowers would show up in your locker the following school day

after some time, you picked up and you were well aware of isagi's little game, you were more than happy to play along though

୨♡୧ STAGE THREE: CONFESSION

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ WISTERIA

in western culture, wisterias represent the passing of time, new beginnings, and romance

several things that described your relationship with isagi

(he thought he was being so clever w/ this one, in his defense, he was, gotta give credit where credit is due)

so, several mirror pep-talks later, isagi finally musters up the courage to leave the final note in your locker asking you to meet him on the school rooftop after school

(cliche i know, but this whole secret admire thing is the most tropey you can get so it's go big or go home with him)

after finally climbing your way up to the top of the school, you are met with a familiar pair of bright blue eyes

bashful as ever, yoichi hands a small bouquet of wisteria flowers bound together with a cream white ribbon as he pours his heart out to you, a dreamy pink sunset painting the backround to his touching confession

after his whole speech asking you to go out with him, you naturally agree

"y'know, i had a feeling it was you all along..."

"WHAT?!-"

poor guy wishes you put him out of his misery sooner, but at least he's finally won you over

𔓘 STAGE FOUR; TOGETHER-TOGETHER

╰┈➤ flower of choice: ❀ WHITE LILY

white lilies symbolize rebirth or new beginnings

they are also commonly used during easter in catholic masses, as well as weddings! (isagi may or may not be planning in advance for all you know)

your newfound relationship with isagi is simply wonderful, he knows how to treat you right and he's just a wonderful guy in general

sometimes, for nostalgia's sake, he'll leave you notes in your locker with lilies attached to them, only difference now is that he's your boyfriend rather than your secret admirer <3

the second you close your locker and place the cheesy note back into it, you're always met with his arms wrapped around your waist and his lips against your own

[cdragons]

Warmth & Stories - Aemond Targaryen x Wildling!Reader

Next Part

Summary: Love can bloom in the most unusual ways. The love between a stoic prince from the South and a wildling storyteller will be written in history as one of the strangest but truest of loves.

Author's Notes: To my very lovely and wonderful friend and beta reader Bel, aka @valeskafics, I hope you had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's! This is the first part of this fic gift I wanted to give you, and I promise the next part will have smut! I hope you like this fic and can feel my love and appreciation for you. Bel, you are one of my favorite writers of all time and a huge reason I began posting fanfics and writing in the first place. I am so grateful that you opened a whole new world for me, and I hope this year gives you lots of happiness.

Warning(s): Slight cursing, Reader's parents were killed, Daemon's an ass, Viserys is a negligent father, Westeros is Westeros, dysfunctional family shenanigans

Prince Aemond Targaryen was known to be many things. Proud. Serious. Studious. All things one should be proud of in a young man’s position. Every single one of his teachers and wet nurses sung praises of the young prince since he began to toddle. And although it might seem cruel to admit it, the second prince was the apple of the Queen’s eye and the clear favorite of her four children.

Her sweet Aemond was a mild, studious young boy who practiced his faith in the Seven despite his blood lineage belonging to the Old Gods of Valryia. Besides Aegon, he had always been respectful to his siblings–especially to his elder sister, Helaena. Aemond would often humor his sister’s strange ramblings and gift her with little creatures he found as he wandered the ancient walls of the Red Keep. Helanea, despite all her reclusiveness, only seemed comfortable enough to be touched with her younger brother and often offered comfort whenever he complained about how unfair it was that he still had no dragon. His sister was as fond of her younger brother as he was of her and would usually humor his requests.

Except now.

“Please?” Aemond had been pleading for over an hour, reaching a point where most would pity him.

“No,” replied his sister sternly, “I’ve already told you my answer won’t change.”

“But why?” he pathetically asked as his voice cracked. It was good that Aegon was still in his room, too drunk to start the day. Aemond would never have lived it down without allowing his brother to see him like this. “I won’t ask for anything else from you, I swear it.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“But why?” demanded Aemond. “I would never harm (Y/N). Name one person in the Seven Kingdoms who would treat her better than I?”

Too upset by his sister’s refusal, the prince stormed out of the room in a near-blind rage.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no noblewoman or someone with any particularly wealthy connections or background. You weren’t even someone born within the Walls in the North.

No, you were from a tribe of wildings that hailed outside the Wall and were brought within the borders after your parents were caught stealing. The Starks decided to spare when they realized their daughter was just a tiny child with an incredible talent for storytelling. Within a year, the tales that Y/N wove with her tongue had reached the ears of Aemond’s father, King Viserys of House Targaryen. The King was fascinated by the young girl beyond the Wall, who spun tales of giants and spirits from the Land of Always Winter. He spared no expense in bringing you to King’s Landing.

Aemond could remember the day so clearly, as you arrived very shortly after his bastard nephew took his eye in Driftmark, and his father did nothing but protect his whore of a half-sister. When brought into the keep, you could hardly present yourself to a room full of nobles, let alone the King. You stood before his father and family barefoot and filthy. Your clothes looked closer to rags and torn cloth, and your (h/c) mane was wild with a few braids and feathers. But that hardly mattered. As soon as you opened your mouth, it was as if everyone in the Great Hall had been transported to another world.

The story you told started with a young princess given a toy soldier named the “Nussknacker.” The young princess loved her little toy soldier so much that her sweet Nussknacker came to life one night. He told the princess a prince to a winter wonderland full of fairies, sugar plums, and magic. His home had been overtaken by a maniacal Rattenkönig, and he turned the prince into his current form. The soldier and princess had to face many trials, but they were successful in defeating the evil Rattenkönig and saving the prince’s kingdom. The Nussknacker turned back into the handsome prince he had always been, and he and the princess married to lead his kingdom into prosperity.

By the time you finished telling your story, the Royal court went ablaze with applause. Your pretty words and skillful tongue enraptured every noble. They longed to hear more of your stories and were starved for entertainment. His father was in an especially jolly mood after hearing your tale. He immediately appointed you as the troubadour of the Royal Court held in protection under the Royal Targaryen House. A proclamation that horrified both the king’s Hand and the Queen, to say the least. It was no secret that Aemond’s mother and grandfather did not look favorably on you. More than once, he heard his mother seethe in anger at the attention her husband gave to you as you sat beside him during his father’s pain flares. In her eyes, you were a savage hellion who likely spread her legs up from the Wall in the North to the Great Hall of the Red Keep in the South.

But in Aemond’s eyes, you were an angel. It was not only his father’s pain you soothed with your stories, but also his own. He tried his best to keep his distance from you, but it wasn’t long until you gained his sister’s favor. From then on, whenever he spotted Helaena, you were by her side. The tall and icy walls he tried to maintain around you came crashing down before he knew it. His mother so loved him because he always did as she instructed, including to remain far away from the new child from beyond the North.

But one night, the scar on his eye had been so painful that he gained a fever that lasted for nearly a week. The maesters weren’t sure if he would survive the sickness, as it was a result of his lost eye being inflamed. His mother had resigned herself to crying by his bedside while his sister would sit with him and talk about her day. But one night, when he was delirious with pain, you somehow managed to sneak in from one of the secret tunnels within the keep’s walls. He couldn’t see you, but he recognized your voice. He wanted to scream for you to leave his room, threatening that he would call over the guards standing outside. But then you spoke, and it seemed as if his world of pain had just washed away. You spoke to him about the history of Old Valyria and the beautiful tales of dragons and knights that were lost in time. This continued on every night during his ailment.

“Do you miss your parents?” Aemond asked you one night. But he immediately regretted his question when he saw how your shoulders tensed.

“Sometimes,” you replied after a few moments of silence, “I understand that they are in a better place, wherever they are. But sometimes I wish they were here so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“But you have Helaena to be with you. Even my father adores your company.”

You only scoffed in response.

“Helaena is wonderful,” you bitterly continued, “I am glad to have a friend as sweet and kind as her in this poisonous hellhole you call home. But your father-” you paused a moment to lick your lips to figure out how to phrase your thoughts – “all he sees me as is a toy. A commodity. A funny little object that he bought to entertain him. He never mistreated me but does not respect me as a person, let alone as a subject.”

The tears in your eyes welled to the point where they almost spilled, and you immediately stopped talking to prevent further incriminating yourself.

“You have no idea what it’s like-” you let out a bitter laugh before continuing to cry – “to have your family taken away from you. To watch your parents be executed before your eyes when you were only a small child. And for what? Stealing a loaf of stale bread? What should that matter to the Starks? They have their pretty castle with warm fires and fur blankets. My mother and father worked for everything they had in order to care for me. Now here I am, away from the silver winter I called home and stuck in the shit-odor that covers precious South.”

“However much you hate your family, at least you still have them. I have no one. No one to share my culture and past with, no one to understand your customs and way of life. Call my parents whatever you want. Savages. Thieves. Scum. But they loved me. However little it was, they taught me to be proud of myself. They were my whole life, and now they’re gone.”

You ran out of his chambers and back into the wall. Aemond didn’t see you for several days, even after his fever broke and the maesters told his mother he would live. Two weeks passed, and Aemond felt as if he were going mad. When he finally spotted you in one of the more secluded areas of the library, he grabbed your arm before you could scurry off.

“Tell me,” he told you. “Tell me everything about your parents, your home. Tell me about how the air was clean and clear. Tell me about how everywhere you looked, you saw white snow and clear ice. Tell me how much you loved your family, pets, friends – if you had any. I don’t care what it is. Tell me everything.”

At first, you only stared. He couldn’t tell if you were furious or in shock. But soon, your eyes lit up as if you had been given five hundred gold dragons.

“Where do you want me to start?” you asked him, eyes wide with joy and a heart finally learning to trust.

Lo and behold, he found his heart beginning to feel the same.

“Wherever you want.”

The smile you gave him was worth more than all the money locked within the Royal Treasury.

So many nights since that day, you would sit by his bedside, speaking so prettily that even the most brutal of their acts and customs fascinated Aemond. You would burn the midnight oil, telling him about the adventures and raids of the Free People beyond the Wall. That’s how you referred to yourself as a “free woman.” While you despised the title “savage,” you did not mind being labeled as “wilding.” You claimed that since you were born outside the Wall, the laws of Westeros did not apply to you. You have been seen as wild, but you knew in your heart that you were born free. And what was more impressive to Aemond was how you honestly and sincerely believed that you were born as a free woman.

He saw it in the way you would make little shadow puppets shows to bring a smile from Daeron after it was announced that he would leave for Oldtown.

He heard it in how you got the cooks to spit on your name after stealing bread from kitchens and then giving it to the small folk children living in impoverished areas of Flea Bottom.

He smelt it in how your hair would always smell like the wind in the Godswood to ride his horse when you were supposed to be learning your letters with the Head Septa.

He tasted it when you let him take a sip of that rotten ale you made in secret when you went through one of your horrible bouts of homesickness.

He felt it in how you raced to his chambers to hug him after he woke up from another nightmare of the memory of that night when he lost his right eye.

You were the strangest mystery Aemond had ever and will ever know. No matter how long he spent searching for answers in his favorite corner of the library, Aemond could never understand how someone with a heart as warm as (Y/N) could come from the frozen wasteland she loved to call home.

With a single but powerful stroke of his blade, Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s upper jaw fell as the rest of his body dropped to the floor. Visenya’s Dark Sister had once more bathed in its victim’s blood. Gasps and shrieks filled the Great Hall at the sight of dark blood oozing from his corpse. The members of the Royal members all had varying reactions. From his mother’s side, Helaena immediately covered her eyes and turned away – utterly horrified by the swift mutilation. Aegon grimaced but was otherwise unaffected. Not surprising. He’d seen similar carnage from the illegal fight rings run in Flea Bottom. Aemond took a slight step back in shock as he gaped at the now-deceased lord in mild admiration.

He had no idea tongues were so long.

Prince Daemon Targaryen stood before his ailing brother, tall and proud. There was not a twinge of remorse or regret on his youthful visage as he towered over the spilled blood soaking his boots. Undoubtedly, this man carried the blood and fire of the proud dragons that graced their house.

“He can keep his tongue.”

Brutish as Daemon was known to be, Aemond respected his uncle’s instinct to remove objects that voiced slander against his wife. However much of a whore his half-sister may be, she was still of royal blood and their father’s firstborn.

However, he wasn’t sure how much that last fact mattered, considering how she spread her legs to swill only to produce bastards as her heirs.

His grandfather ordered the Kingsguards to disarm his uncle, but Daemon only scoffed as he wiped the blood off his ancient blade with an old rag. Moments later, Aemond’s decaying father collapsed on the Iron Throne in exhaustion after over-exerting himself. His mother immediately rushed over to aid him when she heard his pained groans.

“Call the Maesters!” she shouted before reaching him. And when his father fell into her arms, that was the first time Aemond saw you throughout this entire proceeding.

You stood close to the walls, remaining present but unseen. It was not until his father called for you by his side that he removed you from your hiding place. You and an apprentice Maester took Viserys to his chambers, leaving behind his wife, children, grandchildren, and every member of the Royal Court. As Aemond watched you carry his hobbling sire to his chambers – likely to recite to him a passage of the History of Old Valyria or one of the many tales surrounding Queen Visenya’s practice of the dark arts – his blood froze as he noticed Daemon’s gaze was focused not on his brother, but on you.

An hour had passed since Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s unfortunate passing, and Aemond was still no closer to finding you. He felt as if he was going mad in desperation. He checked everywhere. The kitchens, catching you sneak bites of freshly baked honey cakes. The stables, to find you feeding the mares and stallions carrots and apples. Your chambers, spying through the keyhole as you sat at your desk writing new stories. He even went so far as to ride to the dragonpit, hoping that you were reading to Vhagar again. He was close to announcing an order to search for you to the closest Kingsguard when he spotted you standing underneath the Heartstree. When another figure approached you, the one-eyed prince was about to call out your name.

Daemon. And judging by the way his violet eyes leered at your womanly form, it was clear to Aemond that this meeting was no coincidence. Aemond stepped out of view and pressed himself close to the garden’s entrance. The silver-tressed prince cursed himself for not publicly claiming you so everyone knew you were his and his alone. Differences in stations mattered little when you grew up so beautifully.

A fact he was sure that did not go unnoticed by his uncle despite meeting you for the first time.

Not for the first time did Aemond find himself cursing the gods for creating perfection in a single woman. Time had been unkind to many but seemed to spare you of any misfortune. While you were far from the polished and perfect image of a proper lady, you slowly but surely assimilated yourself to life in the South of the Wall. You traded your hides and furs for dresses and trousers. Your wild (h/c) mane became untangled by his sister’s ladies-in-waiting frequent brushings. Regular meals and proper care took a starving child with sharp, bony jabs to a woman with soft, feminine curves and beauty rivaling the Maiden herself.

“How have you found your time so far from the wall, little wilding?”

“I spent every waking second soaked and flushed from sweat and heat. To make it worse, I can’t escape the shit and piss that stains and bathes your pretty keep. Tell me, does that answer your question, my prince?”

Daemon barked a short laugh, amused that his brother took in someone so clearly different from the court’s usual vultures.

“When I heard my brother had taken in a little girl from outside the wall as his little entertainer, I was expecting a hobbled cripple caked in dirt with no sign of grooming. But here you stand, appearing more like a proper lady than a savage wildling.”

“You can take the girl from the North, but you can never take the North from the girl.”

No truer words had ever been spoken.

Aemond smiled at your quick wit and tongue. You were still every bit of the girl dragged before his father when he was only ten name-days old, even if you changed a little bit.

You still styled your hair with the little braids commonly worn in the North, but sometimes, he would catch Helaena tucking feathers in your locks.

You still carried your father’s old hunting knife on your person, but you also kept the Valyrian steel dagger Aemond gave you on Yuletide Eve from three years past.

You still made frequent trips to pass the bread to the small folk in Flea Bottom; you always made sure to help lead Aegon back to his bed after he drank himself stupidly.

It was a challenge, but you’ve adapted and made a life here with the Royal Family, whether you liked it or not.

“Do you ever plan on coming out from behind the wall, my prince? Or do you plan on renouncing your title and becoming Master of Whispers on your father’s small council?”

Realizing that his cover has been blown, Aemond brought himself in view to face the wildling girl who had stolen his heart almost eight years ago. He was relieved that his uncle had left the gardens, probably to inseminate his half-sister once more. It was as if she needed more children to convince all of King’s Landing that her claim on his brother’s throne was legitimate and valid. It did not matter that the evidence of her whorish nature was growing before their eyes.

“Careful, my lady,” replied Aemond, “one might think your words as treason towards the prince.”

“Please,” you scoffed, “the only people who continue to insist on taming my tongue are your mother and grandfather. And we both know my opinions of both parties.” Your cheeks began to flush, and your demeanor grew shy as you whispered your following words. “Besides, why would I need to be afraid of anything when I have you?”

Oh, how his cold, bitter heart grew ten times warmer with your sweet words. He removed his black riding gloves, reached for your hands, and was taken aback by how cold your skin felt against his own.

As if afraid of his voice, he cradled your hands softly as if he were the hunter and you were a little snow rabbit on the edge of running away. Your unblinking observation persisted as you silently watched your silver-haired prince raised both of your hands to his pink lips. He took in a deep breath before exhaling out. The heat of his breath against your fingers sent chills down your back. His mouth was opened just enough for you to see his tongue, bringing a deep sense of shame to wash over you as you dreamed of how good it would feel to have his tongue feast on your cunt.

“What possessed you to come outside without a cloak?” The low timbres of his voice broke you from your lust as you just now realized that you brought yourself into his trap. “It is already winter (Y/n). You could grow sick if you are not careful.”

“You forget yourself, Aemond,” you replied, tearing your hands from his grip. You almost wept at how profoundly you felt the loss of his warmth. When did his hands become so rough and big? “I have the true North in my veins. Such meek and pitiful clouds and winds could never get me ill.”

“Why were you outside at all?” Aemond had hoped to find you in one of the rooms with a fire roaring inside. Even if you were not alone, you would have been warm.

“Thinking about home, I suppose. I was tiny, but I would help gather whatever wood was available and put it in a big pile. We would put on our ceremonial furs and robes, along with masks we painted from the skulls of our kills. After that, the adults would drink themselves stupid on ale and heated yak’s milk as they and the children would gather around the wood pile and then burn it. I remember dancing with my parents around the fire as we sang praises for the old gods and yelled out prayers for the sun. A few boys would probably try to sneak some kisses from the girls with mistletoe.”

The silence that followed only added to the tension.

“I think I would have been stolen by now.”

“Stolen?”

“Your Southerners version of ‘marriage,’ I suppose,” you stated as you lightly shrugged, “at my age, if you weren’t stolen, it meant that something was wrong with you. If I remained with my tribe, some man would have stolen me by now and pumped me full of his babies.”

Aemond saw red. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles further paled to an almost translucent view of his veins as he imagined some savage, wildling man forcing himself on you. He wanted to ride Vhaghar beyond the North, if only reaching beyond the Wall and burning it all to the ground. No man other than him was allowed to touch you. He had only touched your hand and already decided that the rest of you belonged to him and him alone.

Taking a few steps closer to you, he removed his leather patch and lifted your chin between his fingers to force your focus on him. His ears caught a slight intake of breath when you saw his sapphire eye as he was so close that he could practically feel your heart racing in anticipation. He preened in satisfaction when he caught your perfect (e/c) irises dart down to his lips before resting his face again. Aemond didn’t need to look down to know that you were clenching your thighs in an attempt to stop your arousal from leaking.

His sister’s approval be damned.

If your traditions dictated that you must be ‘stolen’ to be a wife, then he would be the one to steal you.

“Sweet (Y/n), you’ve grown so cold.”

Do you wish to go back?

His face was so close to yours that you could feel breaths mix with your own. You could smell the fine leather of his tunic, and the fragrance of spices from his silvery locks wrapped you in a blanket of comfort. His violet eye’s gaze showed a vulnerability lost since that night in Driftmark. The night when he gained a dragon at the cost of becoming a cripple. If Aemond was to risk everything he’s worked for, he had to know.

Would you, a Free Woman, let yourself be called as his?

“No, my Aemond” - you took his hands in yours to tenderly kiss his knuckles- “not anymore.”

I am right where I belong.

And he believed you.

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