#i am so fucking stupid i am going to look at it on accident <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[yxkanna]

lowkey wearing my sleep mask all day tomorrow so i don't look at the sun during the eclipse

[dumbseee]

stalker. pt.3.

masterlist.

charles leclerc x reader. / carlos sainz jr x reader.

fc: lalisa manoban.

note: should i make this a serie? idk i’m having too much fun writing this and you guys like it too (thanks for all the comments <333) BUT idk if it should be a serie (maybe 5 or 10 parts?) or if i should stop here.

you were sitting next to lily and kika when you saw the crash on the big screen. you felt your chest tighten when you saw carlos’s car spin and finish the race in the barriers followed by a violent sound. you didn’t know at the time that it was charles’s fault. you just hoped that carlos was fine, you finally let out a sigh of relief when you saw your boyfriend get out of the car, safely, he waved at the crowd to confirm that he was okay despite the accident. but when the big screen replayed carlos’s crash you felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw who caused it.

"am i dreaming or does it look like charles did it on purpose?" kika asked, slowly, scared of your reaction. you nodded, eyes still glued to the screen. when you finally looked down you saw charles’s girlfriend looking straight at you, you sighed once again and stood up. "i have to go see if he’s okay." you smiled at your friends and left the area. of course, someone was following you and you knew exactly who it was. you finally turned around to face her, your sudden move startled her.

"what do you want?" you asked, coldly. "are you going to see charles?" she asked, smiling at you in a weird way. you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "charles is still in his car, racing, are you stupid? and even if he was in the garage, you’d have to pay me a million dollars to go see him." she laughed and took a step towards you. "you still want him, admit it. fucking with carlos is just a way to get to him and steal him away from me." she said, you frowned and took a step back. that girl was insane. "steal him from you? girl are you for real? he was dating me in the first place, you stole him from me." you responded, pointing at yourself. "but you can have him, now that i have carlos i realise that i wasn’t really satisfied with charles, and i mean it in every ways possible, if you know what i mean." you winked at her before leaving.

seriously charles cheated on you with that weirdo? that guy sure had weird taste in women. but he wasn’t your main worry now, you needed to see carlos, you were still worried sick even if he seemed to be fine.

"oh, y/n you’re here!" you recognised his cousin, he looked distressed, you gave him a quick hug before he took you to see carlos. "he’s fine but he’s been calling out for you, he’s very mad and don’t want to see anyone else but you." you nodded and knocked on the door, you heard a "no quiero ver a nadie" which made you enter anyway. once inside, you saw how he basically destroyed his driver’s room, his back was facing you but you could tell how angry he was. "i said, i don’t want to-…" seeing your face calmed him down instantly. "it’s you." he immediately took you in his arms and hugged you tightly. you smiled against him and ran your hand in his hair. "you did great." you said. "yes, but thanks to this dickhead i’m out!" he took a step away from you, and started pacing in the room.

"he can’t blame me for falling in love with you! i was interested in you even before you guys met! i was planning on asking you out but then charles told me that you’d never be interested in me because you were already interested in him and you hated guys like me. i hate him so fucking much ! hijo de puta, que le pasa? ¿se supone que debo ser su compañero de equipo y él me empujó así-" he kept rambling in spanish, which you didn’t understand. you stopped listening when he said that he was interested in you from the beginning. "you liked me from all this time?" you asked, a small smile on your lips. he stopped his movements and understood that he talked too much. he closed his eyes and rubbed his neck, nervously. "y-yeah, i mean, who wouldn’t? you’re kind, funny, passionate about the things you love, you’re a good listener too, you’re loyal and literally perfect. but you seemed happy with charles so i decided to do my best to forget about you, but i failed. the feelings i had for you stayed with me forever." you couldn’t stop yourself from jumping in his arms to kiss him.

he saved you from your darkest days, and now you learned that he liked you from the beginning. carlos sainz was truly your soulmate.

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lilymhe and 866 029 others.

y/n: enjoying some free time with my favourite person on earth <3

_

carlossainz55: ♥️

lilymhe: excuse me? i thought I was your favourite person :(

y/n: ofc you are too! ily

alex_albon: here i am third wheeling AGAIN

fan1: they’re so cute together seriously

fan2: never thought about this combination but they sure look good together

fan3: pls take care of her carlos :(

fan4: haha charles got betrayed by his own teammate, the rest of the season is going to be funny

fan5: she’s so pretty no wonder the whole paddock wants her even the gfs

fan6: she’s such a homie hopper, who’s going to be next? i bet on lewis or lando

youbestie: @.fan6 keep my girl’s name out your dirty stupid mouth before i find your address and come kick your balls

view all 17 670 comments.

y/n just posed a story!

tagged: @.carlossainz55

caption: alexa play thank u, next by ariana grande.

taglist: @thecubanator2 @sainzluvrr @millyswife @dhhdhsiavdhaj @agustdxjiminx @haydee5010 @gaslysainz @sadfalls

[vbecker10]

Language (Part 2)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Captain Rogers thinks you curse far too much at work so he came up with a way for each word to cost you fifty cents no matter where you are in the Tower. You are desperate for it to stop and go to Loki to see if he has a spell or trick that can help you outsmart J.A.R.V.I.S.

Warnings: swearing lol... obviously?

A/N: I'm so sorry @soubi001 lol and you know why. I've been kicking this idea around in my head for a while because I'm very aware that I swear way more often than a normal person lol hope you enjoy it 💚

"I found a few spells I would like to try when we finish eating," he changes the topic a moment later.

"Think one of them will work?" you ask hopefully.

"I certainly hope so," he says. "Of course, I could accidently turn you into a frog if something goes wrong."

"That's not funny," you tell him.

"I wasn't joking," he smirks.

You take a bite of pizza and as you chew, you respond by giving Loki the finger. In turn J.A.R.V.I.S charges you another fifty cents and you roll your eyes.

"Serves you right," he says and you can tell he is trying to sound serious but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "You are quite rude to me when all I am trying to do is be helpful," he places his hand over his heart, pouting to appear hurt by your gesture.

You ball up your napkin, throwing it at him but he deflects it easily back towards you, a smile spreading across the god's face. You stick your tongue out at the prince when the paper ball hits your shoulder and he laughs light heartedly. Loki's hand rests gently on your knee for barely a moment and he removes it almost before your mind can register the action.

He gets up abruptly, clearing his throat and you feel a sinking sensation in your chest at his sudden shift in mood. You had what you imagine is a rare glimpse of Loki's playful, mischievous side and you can't help but wish he wouldn't return to the cold, overly sarcastic demeanor he had when you first knocked on his door. Closing the pizza box, you decide to clean up the table and put the leftovers in Loki's fridge. It's a small but welcome distraction, keeping you from thinking about how much you enjoy Loki's company when he allows himself to relax around you.

"Thank you for the food," he says without looking up from his book. He sits crossed legged on the floor and holds the book a bit closer as his fingers trace the text across the page.

You smile then sit back on the couch, "You're very welcome... and thanks for trying to help me." He nods quietly in response as he continues to read.

Loki stands slowly a few minutes later, his eyes lowered as he reads the book in his hands. He walks towards you with the book still open and you suddenly become nervous as you realize this is actually going to happen. You are actually going to let him put a spell on you.

"Okay... so what's this supposed to do?" you are almost afraid to ask.

Loki sits next to you and places the open book on the coffee table. "Well, in theory it should-" he starts to explain, his eyes meeting yours as he glances up from the book.

"In theory?" you ask, your voice shaking.

"Yes," he answers seriously. "This is not what the spell was originally intended to do but I should be able to adjust it slightly so that it will fix your issue."

"So... I'm starting to think maybe having someone put a literal spell on me is a really fucking stupid idea," you say and shake your head, ignoring J.A.R.V.I.S.

"I am not just someone," he says, it is clear from his tone he is trying to sound offended but he doesn't hide his smirk as well as he thinks he does.

"Right, you're an actual trickster god," you reply, gesturing towards him. "The title doesn't exactly inspire trust, you know?"

He shrugs, "It's not too late to change your mind and either give up swearing or simply ask for a raise."

You groan and sit back, crossing your arms against your chest, "Just promise me you won't turn me into a frog." His lips curl into a smirk and you sit up, quickly adding, "Or a snake or a bug or anything else not human. Please?"

"I promise you will remain a Midgardian," he says in a sincere voice. His eyes flicker from yours to your hand and his fingers move slightly towards you but he pauses then places his hand on his knee. He shifts a few inches closer to you on the couch but keeps his eyes focused on the open book. "Do you still want me to do this, Y/N?" he asks, glancing back at you.

"Yes," you take a deep breath and nod. "Yea, lets do this. What's the worse that can happen?"

He chuckles and without thinking, you put your hand over his mouth before he can say anything. His eyes widen when your palm touches his lips and for a split second, your brain registers how soft they are. Loki has a look of utter confusion on his face when you remove your hand quickly with a nervous laugh.

"Sorry, I just don't really want to hear all the horrible stuff that might happen if this goes wrong," you tell him, lowering your eyes to avoid looking at him.

"Nothing will go wrong," he promises, touching your arm lightly but he moves his hand the moment you look up. "Are you ready to start?" he asks.

"As ready as I'm gonna be," you tell him with a shrug, feeling slightly more confident in Loki than you had moments earlier.

He flashes you a small smile then leans forward slightly towards the book, his fingers tracing the lines of text as he mumbles to himself. He nods confidently when he is satisfied with the spell and looks at you. "Stay still," he warns you gently then he holds his open palm inches from your neck. Your heart beats faster as he begins to read the foreign words, his voice just above a whisper. The green glow of his seidr slowly reaches out from his fingertips and you feel it's warmth wrap around your throat loosely. You force yourself to remain perfectly still, keeping your eyes focused on Loki.

When he finishes reading, he closes the book and looks at you. "Care to test it out?" he asks, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice unsuccessfully.

You clear your throat and say, "I hope this *silence* spell worked..." You look at him in shock when your voice goes suddenly silent as you swear. "What the *silence* was that?"

"Interesting," Loki says, opening the book again.

"I really *silence* hate when you say *silence* like that," you tell him, trying not to feel worried as your voice cuts in and out.

"The spell was supposed to block J.A.R.V.I.S from being able to hear you swear but it seems to have silenced your words completely," he explains, running his fingers through his long, dark curls as he leans closer to the open pages. "Ahh..." he nods as he flips the page.

"What the *silence* does that mean?" you look at the page over his shoulder.

"I seem to have misjudged the potency of this part here," he points to a passage from the book that you have no way of understanding. "Still, it seems as if it was successful," he forces a smile as he can tell you are unhappy with the results.

"Successful?" you ask, sitting back you put your hands over your face.

"The computer is not charging you," he reminds you. "Was that not the goal of this whole evening?"

"Yea," you agree. "I guess you're right."

"Than you should be thanking me," Loki smirks proudly. "Feel free to throw in as many compliments as you would like."

You can't help but laugh, "Thank *silence* *silence* *silence* *silence*..." Your heart sinks and you fill with dread as all of your words are soundless but Loki doesn't seem to notice as he closes the book again.

"I am waiting for the flood of complements I am owed and then you are free to leave," he chuckles and you swat his shoulder with the back of your hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and you gesture towards your throat as you open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

"Oh, no..." he shakes his head as he realizes what you are trying to tell him. "Okay, don't worry Y/N, I can undo the spell," he assures you as he opens the book. He mumbles under his breath as he flips through the pages quickly and you can only imagine he must be swearing in Asgardian. He finds the page he had been on previously and pulls the book onto his lap.

You tug on the sleeve of his shirt nervously and he looks at you. "I am going to fix it," he promises again, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. "I just need a moment to think," he explains and you can't do anything but nod.

"So that was awful," you laugh nervously a few minutes later when your voice is fully restored. You rub your throat gently and Loki frowns, holding your gaze for only a moment before he looks away.

"I truly am sorry," he says, shaking his head. "I have no idea why that went so wrong," he skims the page again, his fingers comb through his hair as he thinks.

"Do you think it's cause you messed with it too much?" you ask as he closes the book heavily and stands up.

"It may have been," he responds, placing the book in the pile of useless ones. He sighs and looks around at the books still remaining on the shelves.

"Can I ask you something?" you tuck your legs under your body and pick up one of his pillows to hold against your chest. He nods but doesn't face you, his eyes searching for the next solution. "How come you have to alter the spells? Wouldn't it be easier to just use the right type?"

"Ah yes, why didn't I just look in my hundred year old book of spells that deals with artificial intelligence?" he says sarcastically.

"Okay, that's fair," you roll your eyes. "I guess I didn't really think about that part. I just figured... well I'm not really sure how I thought your magic worked honestly."

"No one on the team is concerned with how my spells are created," Loki says over his shoulder then he picks up a thick, leather bound book and quietly adds, "So long as the spells work properly, my magic rarely interests anyone."

"I think it's cause you make it look so natural," you try to explain as you get up and walk towards him. "Like when you are on a mission, you don't sit around a read a ton of books or recite all these spells before doing anything, you just sort of," you wave your hand towards a stack of books and mime moving them to the table, "and stuff happens. Am I making sense?"

He chuckles, "Yes."

"So how do you do it?" you ask.

"Do what?" he looks at you confused.

"Make it look so easy?" you respond with a shrug.

"Roughly nine hundred years of practice," he answers.

"Nine hundred..." you say quietly and he nods. "I forgot you're like a thousand years old."

"One thousand fifty three," he smirks, "And I will assume you forgot because of my stunning good looks."

"You're not unfortunate to look at," you laugh, unable to admit he is completely correct.

"You wound me, truly, Y/N," he shakes his head but can't contain his laughter.

There is a loud knock on Loki's door and you turn towards it but Loki makes no move to answer it. He opens the book in his hand and you shrug then walk to the door.

"What are you doing?" he asks without looking up.

"Answering your door," you tell him. "It's what normal people do when someone knocks."

"I am still dealing with the consequences of the last time I opened my door to someone," he says followed by a heavy sigh but you can tell his annoyance is faked and you fight to hold back a smile.

"Oh... hello Y/N," Thor says slowly, unable to hide his shock. "What are you doing in my brother's room?"

"Um..." you hadn't thought far enough ahead to come up with an excuse when you opened the door. "We were just- we're hanging out. Do you need him?"

"I was just wondering if he had seen my wallet," Thor says. "Or have you?"

"Brown leather wallet with a big script 'T' embossed on the front and a picture of Jane in the little plastic picture space?" you describe the wallet Loki had given you money from earlier.

"Yes, that's it," he says excitedly.

"No, sorry I haven't seen it," you tell him and instantly have no idea why you lied.

"Oh, okay well if you do, let me know. I had about two hundred dollars in it," he says.

Minus the money Loki already gave me, you think. "Will do Thor and I'll check to see if Loki's seen it," you tell him.

"Thank you, goodnight Y/N," he says as he leaves.

"Your brother is gone," you tell him when you close the door. You notice Loki is now sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the stack of books with one open on his lap.

Loki nods in response, his eyes scanning the open pages in front of him.

"He was looking for his wallet but I told him neither of us had seen it," you inform him.

"Mmhmm," he mumbles and nods again.

"Thor asked why I was here so late so I told him we've been secretly dating for months and we're madly in love," you say as you walk closer to the prince.

Again, Loki nods slowly, turning the page he hums, "Mmhm."

"I told him you are a really good kisser but you never know what to do with your hands," you smile as you stand right behind him.

Loki turns the next page and without looking up says, "I know exactly what to do with my hands."

"Oh-" you say in surprise. "You were listening to me."

"Yes," he chuckles. "I can read and listen to you lie at the same time."

"Right well..." you fidget with your fingers and try to think of something to say.

"Why are you standing so close to me?" he says finally looking up to see you reading over his shoulder.

You take a large step back and giggle nervously, "Sorry. I- Umm... Did you find anything useful?"

"Possibly," he says as he gets up.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mischief2sarawr @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @simone818283 @hopefuldreamers-world @blackhawkfanatic @lokikell8 @dracoswhorexx @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @anukulee @free-llama-arcade @michellewgrt @scrumptious-finicky-illusion

[alessiasfreckles]

amnesia - part 3 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader)

Part 2 here!

warnings: angst!

a/n: hope you enjoy x

----------

“What are these pictures?” you asked, turning to look at Ona. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, and you pushed down the sudden urge to kiss her. “Ona? What’s going on?”

Alexia started to back away. “I’m going to, um, leave-”

“No, stay, please?” you asked, and she hesitated before nodding once. You looked back at Ona. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, I, I didn’t know how to tell you- I-”

“Were we dating? Are we dating?” 

“I- Yes, we’re dating,” she told you, her voice small. “We’ve been together for nearly 7 months.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked. Ona had expected you to be angry when you found out she’d lied to you, to shout, yell. She wasn’t expecting your voice to be quiet and cold. Tears were brimming in her eyes, threatening to fall. 

“I just- I was so scared, so, so scared, I thought you were going to die,” she explained, voice cracking on the last word. “And when you woke up, I- I didn’t want to overwhelm you, I wanted you to remember, I didn’t want to tell you that- that it was my fault.”

“What do you mean, your fault? How was it your fault?” 

“I, we, we were having an argument,” she said, and the tears began streaming down her face. “We were having an argument, it was my fault, I said something, and you left. I hurt you and you left, and the next thing I knew I was being called to the hospital because you’d been in an accident.”

Your body felt cold. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry, it was stupid and unkind and I wasn’t thinking, I was tired and-”

“What did you say, Ona?” 

“I- I said you were too much. That I just wanted some peace and quiet after training and you were being too much.”

The words felt like a punch to your gut, though you weren’t sure why. You had the distinct sensation that you’d been told that before, throughout your whole life, you’d been too much for other people. That you’d learnt to make yourself smaller, not to take up too much space, to make sure you weren’t being too much. 

“So you’ve been lying to me?” you asked, trying to ignore the iron fist around your heart. You knew the accident wasn’t Ona’s fault. What she said was awful, and really fucking hurt to hear, but still - the car hitting you wasn’t her fault. But what you couldn’t get past was the lying.

“No, I-”

“You lied to me, about who you are, about who we are, about who I am. You told me we were friends, best friends. Best friends wouldn’t lie to each other,” you frowned. 

“No, I just-” Ona protested.

“I want to be alone. Can you go, please?” you asked quietly, not looking at the brunette. You heard a sob, and then her footsteps as she left, the door closing softly behind her. 

Alexia felt torn. She cared about both of you so much, and it broke her heart to see Ona in so much pain, but you had a right to be upset.

“Would you like me to go as well?” she asked gently. 

You thought about it, then shook your head. “No, can you stay, please? Maybe we can, uh, go through the other photos and you can tell me about them? See if that helps me remember anything.”

“Of course, chiqui,” she said, and brought the corkboard down off the wall. You collapsed onto the sofa, grateful to be sat down, and tried to push the thoughts about what had just happened out of your mind.

“So, this one is from your first game at Barcelona,” she pointed to a photo of you and your teammates in the changing room after the game. You’re sweaty and you look tired, but you’re smiling brightly. 

“I remember that, I think,” you said. Not the game itself, but the feeling, the rush you got, the crowd cheering when you stepped on the pitch. 

“This is from one of our walks before a game. I’m not sure which one, but it looks sunny,” she said, squinting at a photo of you, Salma and Ona. You looked at the photo, the way Ona’s arm was around your shoulder. 

“Um, this is from the Champion’s League final last year,” she quickly moved on. 

“We won!” you blurted out. “Right? I remember! I don’t remember the game, but I remember celebrating.”

“Si!” Alexia grinned. “You were so proud. You even scored a goal, do you remember?”

“Really?” you asked, eyes wide. “I don’t remember that.”

As she showed you more pictures, you tried to concentrate on her words, but kept finding yourself staring at the pictures of you and Ona. 

“Don’t think too badly of her, bebé,” Alexia said softly. “It was wrong of her to lie, but she was trying to do the right thing. She was scared. We all were, when we heard what had happened. We- we didn’t know if you were going to wake up. She loves you.”

Deep down, you knew that you loved her too. It was an unmistakable feeling.

“I just feel so betrayed,” you explained, looking at a picture of you and Ona. Someone else must have taken it - it showed the two of you sat on a bench somewhere, Ona leaning against your shoulder, you pressing a kiss to her head. “I don’t even know who I am anymore, really. I’ve been relying on other people to tell me who I am, who they are. To tell me the truth. She lied about us, but she lied about me as well. I know she was scared, but- but how does she think I feel? I woke up with no memories of anything about my life, about any of it. I feel so stupid.”

You sat quietly for a minute, Alexia unsure of how to respond. The silence was broken by your stomach rumbling, providing a welcome distraction.

“Oh, I guess there’s no food, right?” you asked, realising just how hungry you were.

“Actually,” Alexia said, getting up and opening the fridge. “Ona got all of your favourites. She cooked, too, so you don’t have to do anything, just heat it up.”

“She did?” 

“Si.”

“That’s… that’s very kind of her,” you said. The iron fist around your heart loosened slightly. 

“She loves you, bebé,” Alexia said, her smile not quite meeting her eyes. “She really does.”

Heating up one of the meals Ona had prepared for you, Alexia let you get settled back into your apartment. It still didn’t really feel quite like home, but you were glad to be out of the hospital anyway. As the two of you ate, she told you more stories about your time at Barcelona, and you felt glad that at least she was telling you the truth. 

“So, what about us?” you asked, scraping up the last bite on your plate.

“What do you mean?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow. Her heart sped up slightly as she thought about her feelings, feelings she’d long kept hidden.

“Well, what’s the story of our friendship? Is there anything I should know about there? Any drama that happened, any secrets? Please, no more secrets,” you said with a wry smile. 

Alexia took a deep breath.

[xokohaneazusawa]

hello pookie i’m the anon who got injured while playing football during PE!! (update on the injury: it doenst hurt as much anymore, but it’s fucking black?? around the corners?? AM I DYING 💀)

ok but anygays i saw someone else comment on the post who also wanted another part so i can now overcome the guilt of potentially asking for too much and ask for that infirmary part 2 anyways 😍😍 (nvm it’s not working. i still feel bad.)

and ofc i was thinking of the bllk boys during PE we were literally playing football and i was thinking about how funny it would be if i pulled a chigiri and broke my leg right then and there because of how bad i was at it (i’m so sorry.)

fr tho i cannot play for shit 😭 these mfs make it look so damn easy but football is too damn difficult 💀(i don’t exercise. if i have the option to stay at home every day of my life with everything in it and unlimited supply of food and other essentials, i would. i also failed my school’s fitness test and struggle to open bottle caps sometimes.) i’m just a girl 🎀

i don’t mean to be greedy or demanding but an infirmary scene would really heal my soul (and hopefully my nose. i still dk why it’s turning a bit black. 💀 maybe it’s bruising idk 💀)

p.s. i think my nose is fine but idk. it doesn’t feel pain or anything, and the wound is quite inconspicuous. like i have to squint to see it and the weird black parts (haha 400 eye degree 😍)

You never have to feel bad about asking for anything from me, I'm happy to really do whatever lol! I'm actually so excited to write this, I mean it's such a cute idea!!

Chigiri Hyoma

-> Bro fought with the nurses to stay with you, so that man is not leaving your side the whole time you are there. I mean he's sitting next to your bed, or next to you if you're in a chair, and not leaving for anything.. well unless you asked for something, but that's not the point here

✮ - He sighed and watched as they started to take some tissues making sure that the bleeding was stopping, and applying an ice pack on your nose. He laughed slightly when he saw you flinch due to the cold, but made sure to squeeze your hand slightly to show that it would be fine. Once the ice was applied they made you sit and wait for a little, just to help with the healing, and came by every couple minutes at first to make sure that everything was okay and that you weren't getting freezer burn by any chance. The nurses were all really sweet, and Chigiri was making sure you were following what they said, no matter how cold that ice pack was, your ass, was not taking it off around him. Man already has a good track record of listening to what the doctors say, he trusts them, so in due turn you're following everything that they say as well. He sighs when you finally can take off the ice pack and he can already see the bruise forming under the red from the cold.

"Next time make sure you're not in dream land, because I'm gonna be way worse then these people when taking care of your stupid ass."

Rin Itoshi -> He might have left because the nurses told him to go back, but he also might have accidently put somebody else in the infirmary because he wasn't paying attention and went a little too hard on one of the newbies, so he ended up being back after only a couple minutes. Though the second he got back he was sitting next to you and making sure that you were okay, more with his actions then his words

✮ - This man hurried back over to the infirmary, he was almost asked by a couple teachers to slow down on the way there but when they saw he also looked pissed off (It's really just his rbf) they decided to just leave him alone. Assumed he was gonna like murder then if they had said something. The second he got back he rushed over to where you were, immediately asking if you were okay. Though it might not have sounded like he cared, the way that he almost plowed through like 3 teachers on the way here made up for it. The nurses were hella confused but once they saw him sitting right next to you and slightly holding onto your hand making sure they you didn't remove the ice pack, no matter how cold it was, they kinda just aww-ed and continued their work, checking up on you making sure that you didn't accidently get freezer burn and checking for bruising and things like that. He stayed holding your hand the whole time, letting you squeeze his hand whenever they tried to mess with your nose, pushing it around. He sighed when they finally walked away, looking up at you.

"I hope you know that I almost sent another lukewarm player from your team to the infirmary.. never do that shit again."

Nagi Seishiro

-> He will stay with you the whole time, mostly because he was too lazy to go back to class, and the fact that he was really only trying to impress you and since you're not there anymore it didn't matter to him. Though he will make sure to ask every couple minutes if you're okay, even if he looks like he's falling asleep against your shoulder

✮ - Was actually half falling asleep against your shoulder before you had to move him slightly when the nurse gave you an ice pack, which woke him up and that’s when he realized what was actually happening, to which he did end up staying awake to make sure that you were okay. Checking on you every couple minutes with a quick “You good?” or “You’re not dying. Right?”. He’s trying his best, but normally Reo takes care of him, he’s never been on the other side of this. The nurses will always slightly laugh at him, because he looks kinda worried but actually has no idea on what to do to help you. Is the only one who will actually take the ice pack off of you, not because he was trying to prevent healing, but you said your nose was cold and bro just fixed the problem, well that was until you laughed at him and he was hella confused. (please explain to this man about the great thing to athletes and injuries that is an Ice pack). Though he was super sweet other than that and did try to learn a bit and pay attention when the nurse finally let you leave with just some instructions on how to take care of it.

“Next time, just pay attention.. So we don’t have to go through all of this again. How I wished first aid kids that just auto healed worked in real life..”

Bachira Meguru

-> Stayed with you, but he laughed. The whole time. Man has almost been in tears twice sitting next to you, thinking about the way the ball came right in the center of your face and now it's all bruised. The nurses at this point also wanna give him a bruised nose so he can finally shut up

✮ - He was trying to contain his laugh the whole time he walked you there, plus in the office when the nurses were trying to help you, by getting tissues, an ice pack, and possibly some sort of pain medication. You probably have already given this man so many dirty looks and glares, but he just doesn’t seem to care whatsoever. Now, not to get this confused. He is concerned for your safety, but the fact that you got smack dabbed hit in the center of your face with a football is just so freaking funny to him and he’s just watching it over and over in his head. Had it been a whole different injury, one that didn’t look so funny, he would probably be more serious about it, but come on, it was pretty funny. Though, he’s probably also gotten hit a couple times with a ball so he does at least know the basics of making sure that you’re okay. So another one that makes sure that you keep that ice pack on the whole goddamn time, unless obviously, freezer burn. (I’ve had it, it sucks.) Though again, everytime he sees your nose, all red and starting to get bruised he will indeed laugh. But at the end of the day he’ll also be pretty helpful in making sure that it gets better, since his past experiences, if you can deal with the constant teasing.

“Oh come onnnn, It’s pretty funny! I mean how far out were you to get hit in the middle of the god damn face- Oh wait, here I have some bandaids so you can compress it”

Isagi Yoichi

-> Always making sure that you're okay. You move? He's asking. You made a funny face of pain? He's asking. You even looked at him? he's asking. He's really just worried and wants to make sure that you're okay and that it won't be all that bad or anything

✮ - This man has not left your side the whole time you’ve been sitting there. He’s constantly asking and making sure you’re okay and don’t need anything. Not to mention, he’s also been holding your hand the whole time, just in case. The only time he ever lets go is when the nurses come to make sure you’re okay. He’s just being cautious, hey, maybe you’ll need two hands to hold something or whatever. The only time he will keep his hold on you is when they come to move it around to make sure it’s not like broken or anything, then he’ll keep it there so you can squeeze it to deal with the pain, hey, hurt noses are nothing to sneeze at (please somebody laugh at that). Whenever your hand gets tired (or just cold) of holding your ice pack, he’ll take over. He’s just so freaking helpful and all the nurses love him for that. Though being an athlete himself does help a lot, he’s pretty good at knowing how all this stuff works. Checking to make sure that you’re following what the nurses said and making sure that it’s not getting too bad. Though once he sees that it’s all red and stuff he will chuckle a little, as worried as he is.

“Maybe next time you keep your attention on the field and not in whatever world you were in, okay?”

Reo Mikage

-> He was still laughing a little bit, and chuckled when he was reminded of the event, but for the most part was pretty worried about you and made sure that you didn't touch it too much so you didn't accidently hurt it anymore. Like Isagi, he also made sure to ask if you were okay every couple minutes, he just really wants to make sure that it won't cause anything long term.

✮ - He was sitting in the nurse's office with you, making sure that you were okay, asking if you needed anything. Water? To take off the ice pack for a second? Another tissue? He’s got it all covered. I mean he’s been taking care of Nagi for how long, this isn’t all that different. Well besides the fact he also gets a laugh or two out of it. (he won’t actually let out a laugh until you’re leaving the nurse’s office, and when he’s sure that it’s starting to get better). He just thinks it’s a little funny, watching the scene replay in his head of you getting hit in the face with the football. He knows that he shouldn’t laugh at your demise, but you can’t blame him. Though he’ll make sure that you always have everything you need for the next couple weeks, or at least until it’s healed. After the initial injury he might be a little more easy to make laugh, and by that I mean every time he sees your slightly bruised nose he’s letting out a chuckle. Was he worried at first? Yeah. But now he just sees it as a memory of you spacing out at the worst time.

“I know that I look good on the field, but next time pay attention to the flying ball and not at your amazing boyfriend~”

Sae Itoshi

-> Staying with you. No matter what. The nurses most likely hate him at this point, he's silent and he really isn't doing anything besides being next to you. Though, what they don't know is that fact every time he sees you twist with discomfort or make a face he's reaching over to ask if you're okay or you need anything

✮ - The nurses have come over a couple times at this point, once to give you an ice pack, once just to double check that you were okay, and once to give you some pain medication and water. Though on the right side of you, Sae has just been looking over at some of the other patients, and nurses walking around the office. After everytime one of the nurses walks up to you or does anything he will turn his attention back over to you and ask you a quick “you okay.” slightly looking at either your face or body language. If he ever can see that you’re lying to him, good luck to you. He’s an athlete, man has most likely gotten hurt in his career, and he knows lying and saying you’re fine isn’t doing anything, it’s actually most likely making it worse. So in turn he will glare at you until you finally say that you’re not okay. He just wants you to be honest, especially if it hurts and it’s something that can be fixed. Though also with his background he knows how to take care of things like that, and might possibly be the best one to have in this scenario, well if you can deal with him constantly not (facial) showing that he cares.

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that. And now you’re being even more stupid, don’t touch it.”

[multifandomworldsposts]

omggg I know he lost in the poll but your HAVEEE to do ponyboy for kinktober🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

Day 23 of Kinktober: Running Away With Ponyboy Curtis

Pairing: Ponyboy Curtis x fem!reader

Warning: sexual harassment, fighting, unprotected sex,

Y/N’s POV

Ponyboy’s life has been hard since his parents accident, his older brother accusing him in shit that doesn’t involve him, struggling with bills, and the socs.

I’m a soc but I hate a lot of the people who are in the socs, Cherry’s boyfriend Bob, he’s such an asshole to me and of course, the greasers. Some socs are sweet except for some.

One night, Dally, Pony, Johnny, and I went to the drive-in. We go to the seats and I see Cherry with Marcia and I sit next to them. Dallas starts to flirt with Cherry, Johnny, Pony, and I kept on telling Dallas to stop harassing her and of course Dallas ignores us. Eventually Dallas leaves, so Ponyboy and Johnny sits next to us. I feel safe around Pony but a lot of docs say that the greasers are dangerous, I know them some are dangerous but some aren’t and that the gang I know. Dallas comes back with food and drinks, he gives Cherry throws her drink at him and things get heated, Dallas tries to harass her again, Johnny tells him to stop, Dallas gets pissed off and he looked like he was about to beat something or someone but he walked away.

Eventually, the girls, Ponyboy, Two-bit, Johnny and I leave the drive-in and the socs came to us to start trouble.

“Y/N!? What are doing?” Randy says.

“Being with someone who isn’t you guys.” I said.

Bob and Randy look so pissed but Cherry stops them, Cherry tells us we can leave so we leave. Ponyboy takes me home, of course my parents are pissed that I missed my curfew, which it’s fucking stupid.

3 AM

I hear pebbles on my window so I go check who it is and it’s Ponyboy looking upset. I unlock my window and see what’s going on.

“Pony what’s the matter?” I whisper.

“Darry, he hit me. Run away with me.” He says.

“But, what about my parents?” I look behind me.

“I can’t go anywhere without you Y/N/N, please run away with me.” He says.

I look at him, I’m sorry mom and dad, I love you but, Ponyboy needs me. I grab a jacket and Pony catches me from the window and we ran to a park and I see a mustang in the distance, I hope to god it’s not the socs.

I see Bob, Randy, and the other guys I forgot their names walking towards us. Ponyboy protects me from them, shit goes down by Pony almost getting drowned and I almost get sexually assaulted. I get crazy by grabbing a knife and stabbed Bob, I stabbed my best friend’s boyfriend. Pony wakes up and he looks at me with some blood on me and he looks to see Bob dead.

“Y/N, what happened?” Pony asked.

“He tried to kill you and he tried to sexually harass me, so I killed him, I’ve never done this before.” I shakily said.

“We need to get out of here.” He said.

“But where?” I ask.

“I know where to go.” He says.

I believe him. We go to the bar where Dally lives and we tell him everything on what happened a couple hours ago. Dally takes us to his bedroom and he gives us clothes which surprisingly felt so warm. Dal tells us where to go to an abandoned church, so we go to where he said where to go. While we were in the train car, I almost fell asleep in Pony’s arms. He woke me up to tell me we’re at the location where the church is at. I made Pony ask a farmer where the church is and finally got to it. To be honest, I love abandoned places, but I hope we don’t get caught but we’re in the middle of nowhere.

“I’m glad that we’re finally alone.” I say looking around.

“I’ve been wanting to be alone with you for a long time.” He wraps his arms around my waist.

I look at his face and I see those doe eyes, I love him but my parents and the socs think he’s dangerous because of who he’s hanging out with but some of them are so sweet. Pony kisses me, I kiss him back, I turn my body to face him, he holds me tight to make us lay on the floor to make out, we were like this for hours, him giving me hickeys, me moaning, him kissing my body, and me tugging his hair.

While we were there, we dyed our hair, I turned mine into black color and I turned his hair blonde, which he looks cute in blonde without greasy hair.

Dallas visits us and gives Pony a letter from Soda. Dallas tells me that there’s missing posters of me everywhere in town, I can’t believe that’s happening. Dallas takes us to Dairy Queen which I really miss the food. We go back to the church which is on fire. Pony and I save the kids.

We go to the hospital and Pony and I are at the waiting room and Darrel and Sodapop come in so Pony ran to them. My parents come in and they look disgusted on what they’re seeing, my changed hair and seeing Ponyboy looking beat up.

My parents kick me out so the Curtis’ said it’s okay for me to live in with them. Again I’m happy that I’m with Ponyboy, he just makes me so happy and he makes me feel safe.

[dontexpectmuch]

part 3 - [Lost in Madrid]

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author note; judiño truly is a menace to society, but also a goof. hope you like it, guys!!!!!!

(did not proofread)

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series.masterlist

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“i bet you can’t hit the crossbar from here.” lucas, a young player from another football team, speaks up, playfully hitting judes shoulder.

jude chuckles, eyes now looking at the goals crossbar lucas was referring to. it is located on the right side of the benches, a bit smaller than an actual goal, but that wouldn’t be a problem for him. he also sees another person sitting on the benches, their head turned down, probably reading something from their book.

jude takes the ball and places it in front of him, looking at the crossbar them back at the ball as he takes a fee steps back, only to run back up to the ball and kick it with his right foot. immediately the ball flys up, some pieces if grass getting pulled along as he and a few other teammates watch the ball fly to direction of the goal.

too weak, he thinks to himself, though he does not habe enough time to criticize himself any further, his eyes widening as he sees where exactly the ball was flying to.

“yo, watch out!” he screams on the top of his lungs, a few other guys doing the same, to no avail.

[un]fortunately, you hear their calls, a bit late though, because as soon as you look up you are met with a football directly hitting the right side of your face, pushing you back against your seat.

“fuck.” jude mutters to himself under his breath, already jogging towards you and coach lagarde, who was crouched in front of you.

his heart threatens to jump out his chest, it feels like he couldn’t breathe and different scenarios are going through his head until he reaches the two of you,

“señor i am, so, fuck, i am so sorry.” the words leave his mouth, almost like he couldn’t control them.

both men look at you, sitting in your seat with your head in your hands, taking deep breaths. jude bends down slightly, hand softly touching your shoulder, as if he was afraid to hurt you any further.

“i am, eh, mucho, mucho siento.”

great, now isn’t the right time to forget how to speak spanish properly, he almost gave you a concussion, or fuck, what if you have a concussion because of his stupid mistake.

you take another deep breath and lift your head, eyes still closed. you try to open them, it seems as if the bright outside bothers you, making you close your eyes again. jude sees a few tears slip down your cheek and decides to stand in front of you, shielding you from the sun. you open them again, blinking rapidly until you get used to the light.

he hears you mumble something under your breath, and looks around to gibe you something that might help, his eyes register a feeling water bottles on the ground and he immediately picks one up, opens its lid and hands it to you, “here.”

you thank him, taking a few sips to help you to calm down.

“that was a hell of a shot.” you say, voice raspy, making judes skin tickle.

he scratches the back of his neck, sighing, “yeah, sorry about that.”

coach lagarde decides to take you to the nurse, telling him to go back to the field and continue his training. so, he does as he is told and groans as he sees his teammates faces.

“is that your way of flirting?” one of them asks, earning a round of giggles from the others.

“shut it, amigo. i hope it’s not a concussion.” jude turns to look at the door you and señor disappeared into, hoping to speak to you before you leave.

training resumes again, though jude can’t help but let his thoughts wander on, thinking about ways to apologize to you. he should definitely go to the nurse as soon as he can, just find a way to talk to you and make sure that you are doing well. jude can’t help but cringe at the accident that happened earlier, passing the ball back to his teammate as he moves up to a different position. hitting someone in their face? that has never happened before! why would it happen now, out of all times.

as soon as training ends and the coach reminds them to eat their protein, jude quickly moves to walk into the nurse office, eyes searching for you everywhere.

“buenos días.” he walks in, but other than the nurse no one was inside the office, making his shoulders sack.

“¿Cómo puedo ayudarte chico?” the lady asks, eyes curious.

“eh,” jude pauses, thinking of ways to speak spanish, however he gives up as no actual word comes to his mind and decides to stick to english, “did someone come in here earlier? with señor lagarde?”

the woman nods, telling him that you have already left twenty minutes ago, also adding that it wasn’t that bad, that you would be okay by tomorrow. jude thanks her and wishes her a nice day as he leaves her office, a sigh leaving his lips as he continues to walk to the parking lot where his mother would be waiting for him.

he’ll definitely apologize to you, he just has to find the right moment to do so.

————————————————————

the cafeteria is buzzing with people talking and laughing during their break, the air conditioning is working overtime, though it stands no chance against madrids heat, and the crowd inside.

though jude only spends two days of the week at the center, he can’t help but feel a certain familiarity as he walks through the cafeteria, eyes looking through the tables of people, searching for someone.

even though this someone isn’t someone he actually knows, this person made him spent extra time on his hair and skincare routine this morning, making him trim his beard - if you can even call it that - and cut his nails. he chose his nicest pair of sport gear, wanting to get a reaction from you.

he holds his head high, eyes focused on finding your head, causing him to accidentally bump into someone.

“didn’t see you there.” he says, eyes still wandering, adding a quick, “‘m sorry.” as he moves on, thinking that he sighted you.

it is only when he is ten meters away that he notices that, fuck, you are the person he bumped into, not even giving you a proper apology once again. he quickly turns around, panicky expression on and high alerted. however you are no where to be seen, seemingly having left the cafeteria after the small incident.

jude sighs, “fucking great.”

————————————————————

the following week, jude tried his best to gain your attention somehow, but the only time to do so is during practice. so, he does what everyone would do in his situation, be an attention seeker.

he would be extra loud, yell at your direction and wave, not really gaining any reaction whatsoever.

other times, he tries to - gently - flank the football towards the bench you are sitting on, or try to hit your legs softly whenever your back is turned away, speaking to coach lagarde.

however, nothing - and he genuinely means nothing - would make you react. like a stone cold person, you’d just stand there, maybe look annoyed to the direction the ball came from, but nothing else.

truly frustrating.

——————————————————

it has already been a week since you and jude - forcefully- spent the evening in your home, talking [he was doing that for the most part] and enjoying each other’s company [he for sure did]. he feels like a friendship between you two isn’t impossible anymore, since you also [kinda] got used to his presence.

so, whenever he is at the center, getting in his spanish lessons and what not, he will also spend time with you. you still won’t let him walk you home, claiming that it is too much for now and that you would rather wake with your friend.

at first he thought that said friend of yours would be that woman that you sometimes get coffee with from the cafeteria, so immersed in your conversation that you won’t even notice jude sitting across from you at another table, eyes looking at your fave at any given chance.

he is proven wrong when he walks past your apartment building one day, on his way to get some snacks, seeing you and some other dude walking down the street, laughing and seemingly having a good time. you solely focus on that mana face, nodding and smiling at whatever he says, making judes blood boil in a way he has never felt before. if he could, would’ve run across the street to pull you away from that guy, telling you that he is way funnier than him and that you should look at him that way. he internally pats his own shoulder for not giving in to his thoughts, continuing his walk to the store to get his snacks.

now, the two of you are sitting on the bench outside on the sidelines of the field, jude spending his water break talking to you.

“so like, you just listen and watch how we react to given commands from señor?” he questions your work here, genuine interest present in his voice.

you nod, swallowing the piece if bread in your mouth, “i just watch how you guys pick up the language, in comparison to babies, for example. babies learn the language because they naturally need to communicate in order to express themselves. now, you guys are older, able to express your needs. but i want to see how you would do it in an environment that isn’t in your familiarity, y’know?”

“ahh.” he nods again, taking another sip from his bottle.

you look pretty today, he notes, eyes looking at your outfit, then your face. the sun starts to set slowly, crafting calming colors in the sky, adding to your prettiness.

“is this your last session, today?” he asks, bending down to tighten his shoelaces.

“yeah.”

“let’s stay after practice-“

you cut him off, “no, i still don’t want you to walk me home-“

he scoffs, “i wanted to stay and practice a little longer with you, but okay. main character syndrome is real.”

you hum, before agreeing, telling him you’ll wait. jude smiles and gets up from his seat, ready to go back. “you know, i am funnier than your guy that walks you home.”

“lorenzo?” you look up at him, eyes meeting his.

damn, even your eyes are fucking pretty.

“don’t care about what his name is, you would laugh louder with me than you do with him.” jude continues, a weird feeling taking place in his chest.

oh no, is he getting influenced by your negative energy?

“that’s rude.” you mock him, mimicking his voice and accent, horribly failing at it, too.

this makes him laugh, almost giggling like a little schoolboy. he catches himself, turning quiet and clearing his throat.

“i, eh, i should go.” fuck, why was he making things so awkward?

you cutely smile at him, oh god - you cutely smile at him - telling him you will be here until he finishes the session.

this gives him the boost of motivation he needed to go through the practice session, smile never leaving his lips and eyes wandering to your direction every once in a while.

-

“this is why you wanted to stay longer? to race?” you rest your hands on your hips, looking at jude the way his mother would look at him whenever he did something he shouldn’t have.

“it will be fun! strengthen our bond!” he explains himself, coming back to stand next to you after putting a cone a few meters away from you guys as a finish line.

“we aren’t friends.” you quickly deny, making jude chuckle.

“oh, we so are.” he says, stretching his arms a bit, “we are like, wait, lemme think, eh. do you know those moon and sun duos on tiktok?”

“no, i don’t.”

“you’re definitely the moon, all gloomy and dark and cold and mean and i am the sun, super nice, wholesome, hot and beautiful.” he explains, giggling at the sour expression you throw at his direction.

jude tells you to get in position, counting down to three to signal the go. you get ready, determined to give your best even though you wish to lay in your bed right now. it doesn’t matter that he plays football for a living and has been running around his whole life. you won’t go down without a fight.

“okay,” jude raises his voice, bending down slightly, “one, two,” he looks at you, seriousness painting your face, “three!” and before you know it, jude pushes you away, making you lose your balance and almost fall down as he sprints away, passing the finish line faster than you can register.

“dude!” you yell out, “what the hell was that?!” you walk up to him, but he doesn’t take you serious, hands resting on his knees as he loudly laughs at you.

only when you start to hit his shoulder he stands up, jogging away from your hands, to no avail, as you decide to follow him and continue to hit him with your hands.

“stop moving! i will end you!” you yell out, now properly running after him, his laugh booming through the entire field.

you don’t know how long this goes on for, but before you know both of you are laying on the ground, heavy breaths leaving your mouths and sweat shining on your forehead, covering your body as well. jude was the first one to lay down, taking you with him as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down with him. you are too out of breath to notice, but his warm hand stays wrapped around your wrist, his thumb gently caressing the inside of it.

“i hope you know,” you calm down a bit, turning your head to the left to look at him, his eyes already focused on you, “you are so, incredibly, indescribably, so out of this world-ly, annoying. i genuinely hope you know and understand that.”

“wow,” jude smirks, hand letting go of your wirst to prob his head against it, now looking down at you a bit, “and i thought you would confess you undying love and adoration towards me.”

“in your dreams.” you roll your eyes. looking back up at the sky.

“in my dreams we do even more than that.” he winks - heh, he wishes - at you, even though he knows that you don’t see it.

you groan, hitting his chest with your left hand. of course he would say something like that, but you can’t help and laugh at your current situation. here you are, laying on faux grass, the sun setting, the breeze softly kissing your skin.

“what’s so funny.” jude asks, also smiling.

you shrug, not sure what to say, “don’t know, ‘m just, like, i guess i’m just happy right now?”

“me too.” jude lays back onto his back, facing up to look at the sky.

everything right now is just, perfect.

——————————————————

with lorenzo by your side, the two of you walk into the cafeteria, your lunch break finally in the same time slot. it has been a busy week, with many new students coming in and practice sessions going longer than usual. these are the last two weeks before international break for the volleyball players, their teams demanding them to take in as many courses as they can.

“maybe you should make them read books?” lorenzo suggests, his hand on the small of your back to guide you to your table.

sighing, you shake your head and take seat, “that won’t help, many of them can’t even right a sentence correctly due to the silent letters.”

lorenzo hums, taking a bite from his sandwich. since he only has spanish players trying to learn english, he won’t be in such a hurry to get through the lessons as fast as you are.

your eyes scan the room, not particularly searching for anything [that’s a lie], seeing all the people talk amongst themselves and laughing at the stuff by said. the second month of your internship already started, but it feels like forever since you started here. you grew to love these people, the food and the culture. you are happy with the job you have here and the friends you made. but when you can’t spot the person you are actually looking for - yes, you admit it - you feel your shoulders sack, disappointment spreading through your chest.

it’s not like you miss jude, no, you don’t, but seeing him just makes your day feel complete. ever since the two of you started to spend more time together, you [forcefully] started to enjoy his presence more than you ever thought you would. jude still is as annoying as ever, constantly teasing you whenever he gets the chance, but that only let’s you tease him back as well, comfortable banter between you two.

“you good, linda?”

lorenzos voice pulls you out of your thoughts, making you focus on him once more.

you smile, nodding simply at his words as you take a sip from your juice.

he leans forward, voice low, “don’t make it obvious, but the british player behind you look at you like he wants to throw knives at your head.”

you immediately turn around, heart beating fast since you know whom he is referring to.

and there he is, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. the hand on top of the table is also clenched, and instead of focusing on the conversation around the table, he just looks at you, or more like, past you, at lorenzo.

“nah, that is his default stare.” you wave off, turning back to drink your juice, a smile finding its way onto your lips.

you quickly realize what is happening and try to shake out of it, smile instantly vanishing.

what the fuck was happening to you? did he actually manage to influence you with his stupid behavior? would you also be this annoying now?

lorenzo shrugs, finishing his food and taking your dishes back to the cleaning station. you follow suit, turning back once more to have a final look at jude, his eyes already focused on you. he sends you a wink - not really - and you respond with a wave, turning around to walk back to your class with lorenzo.

you day goes on like it always does, answering questions, correcting reports and spending time on the field to watch the practice sessions go on. you also have few conversations with other players, asking them about their experience when learning a language and having to usw it during stressful situations. the process of your thesis slowly builds up, the results better than you anticipated.

as you pack your back after the session, the you feel somebody standing in front of you, blocking the sunlight to hit your body. looking up, you see a sweaty jude, breath rising and falling in a even manner.

“can i help you, señor bellingham?” you ask, standing up, eyes never leaving his.

are you the only one that suddenly feels really hot?

“walk with me?”

“you smell.” you scrunch your face, smile however still visible.

“the showers here are weird, i’ll shower at home.” he pats his forehead with a towel, “so, walk with me?” he asks again, hopeful tone never wavering.

you tilt your head to the side, “doesn’t your mother pick you up?”

“told her that we are walking home-“

“lying is bad, judy.” you throw in, making him roll his eyes.

“-so you have to walk with me.”

“it’s not my fault that you lied to your mum, jude.” you shrug, starting to walk away.

you don’t have to turn around to know that jude follows you, you can already feel his body heat on your back. he is close, you note, though as you turn around you seem to underestimate how close he actually is. your face is close to his broad chest, you can smell his perfume mixed with sweat and the scent of grass. you should be gagging at how close you are to his sweaty body, but somehow it doesn’t bother you as mich as you thought it would. instead, you feel your heart racing, its sound in your ears. jude looks down at you, dark eyes pulling you into a trance.

before you get too immersed, you pull back, “eh, excuse me? ever heard something of personal space?”

he shrugs, picking up his own back to sling it over his shoulder. he walks ahead, opening gate to leave the field, “let’s go home, wanna shower.”

you don’t say anything, deciding to walk through the gate and wait for jude to shut it behind him. you begin to walk home, comfortable silence settling between you two, the suns setting rays feeling like fairy dust on your skin. the sky is orange, hints or purple and pink creating the perfect scene for a relaxing walk. from the conner of your eye you try to look at jude, wanting to see if he enjoys this walk as mich as you do. he simply looks ahead, soft smile and shoulders relaxed. he looks really good surrounded by the different colors of the sky.

“you’re pretty.” your voice is soft.

hearing you say that makes jude trip, making him choke on his own spit and coughing violently. your eyes widen, you immediately start to hit his back to make him regain his composure. the laughs spill from your lips, it is out of your control.

“thanks-“ he coughs again, hitting his chest to help him calm down, “thanks. i know.” his voice, a few seconds ago high pitched, is now low, wanting to sound cool even though you just giggle at his antics.

“wow,” you mockingly say, “what happened to the over confident man that used to brag how hot he is? is this what a compliment does to you?”

“no, it’s just, y’know, your first time being nice to me.” he explains, switching place with you so he would walk on the outside of the road, his touch on your shoulder leaving a burning feeling on it.

eyebrows drawn together, you look at his side profile, “that’s not true! i am always super nice to you!”

“nah.”

“i am!”

he pauses, eyes looking at yours before he looks ahead, “nah.”

“puta.” you say under your breath.

“i heard that.” jude slightly bumps his shoulder against yours, making you sway.

“good.” you return his gesture - though he doesn’t move at all.

soon enough you arrive at your apartment building, slowly coming to halt with jude now standing in front of you. you don’t know what to do, should you hug him as a goodbye? should you shake his hand, pat his shoulder? shit, this is harder than you thought it would be.

it seems like jude could read your mind, because before you know it, you feel his arms around your body, pulling you against him. you are too slow to react, he pulls away and smiles at you, making your knees feel weak.

what is happening? what is all of this?

“soo,” you begin, suddenly all shy around him, oh god, what is this?

“soo,” jude mirrors your stance, hands behind his back, “it isn’t that bad to walk home with me, eh?”

you hum, slightly rocking back and forth on your heels, “it was bearable.” you agree, your cheeks start to hurt from all the smiling you have done in the past few minutes.

“does that mean you would do it again?” he asks, eyes holding the stars in them, the sunset behind him making him look so pretty, it hurt.

“hm, maybe?” you tease back, taking a step back to lean against the front door, “i enjoy walking home with lorenzo as well, he is quite charming.”

jude scoffs, hands now on his hips, a signal that he is being serious, “he ain’t all that. bet i can beat him in a 100 meter sprint.”

you laugh, shrugging “who knows?”

“just you wait, i’ll show you.” he also starts to walk backwards, motioning turning around yet, “so, dinner at ours sometime?”

you nod, “sure, i’d love that.”

“great.”

“great.”

the two of you silently look at each other, as if engaging in a conversation with your eyes. jude waves at you one last time before turning around to continue his way home. though he doesn’t see it, you wave back, not really sure why you do it.

you walk up to your apartment, opening the door and taking off your shoes. after washing your hands and preparing yourself something to eat you sit down onto the couch in living room, or phone at hand. you reply back to some of your friends, update your mom about your day and send her a few pictures of the places you have visited in the last week. just as you want to put your phone down to eat the last few bites of your pasta, you hear your phone go off - a new notification.

[from; Jude Bellingham]: u up?

[to; Jude Bellingham]: still don’t wanna fuck you.

[from; Jude Bellingham]: THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT

[to; Jude Bellingham]: suree

[to; Jude Bellingham]: what did you need?

[from; Jude Bellingham]: okay rude

[from; Jude Bellingham]: can’t i just start a conversation with my friend???

[from; Jude Bellingham]: yknow like friends do???

[to; Jude Bellingham]: no

[to; Jude Bellingham]: babysitting hours are over

[from; Jude Bellingham]: AHA

[from; Jude Bellingham]: so you admit that we r friends??

[to; Jude Bellingham]: good night jude

[from; Jude Bellingham]: booooo tomato tomato

you roll your eyes as you lock your phone, getting up to wash your dishes. your phone rings again, but you only get to it around twenty minutes later, being caught up in cleaning your kitchen and writing a grocery list for tomorrow.

INSTAGRAM

[@yourinsta] @judebellingham wants to follow you!

you roll your eyes, not even fighting off the smile on your lips. you don’t think twice and accept his request, following him back. you stay on his account, deciding to stalk him a little.

that’s what everyone does, right?

you look through his following, smile slowly fading as you see how many models he follows. but, you shake out of it, you shouldn’t let this get to you, you think, he is an attractive, young and successful guy, obviously he would be in touch with other women. instead of making yourself sad, you leave the app, sighing.

he is a guy, a pretty guy and single. what if he has a girlfriend? and never got the chance to tell you about it? that wouldn’t be unexpected, he is a nice person. oh, this feeling in your chest, the way it reaches down to your stomaches leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

you get up and go to the bathroom to wash your face and get bed ready.

you shouldn’t jump into any conclusions, they might be his friends! just like you are, maybe. you should just let things go, be normal and enjoy your time here in madrid. jude doesn’t owe you any explanation.

finishing your routine, you get under your bedsheets, sighing once more before deciding to relax.

everything will be just fine.

-

at the same time, jude lays in his bed, lights out, his phone screen illuminating his face. his fingers scroll down his following list, removing every woman that isn’t you, or one of his close friends. his cheeks already hurt from smiling the entire evening and his chest feels light.

as he finishes his task, he moves back to re-reads your guy’s chat from earlier, giggling when he reads your cute answers. oh god, how could you be so funny without even trying?

he locks his phone, putting it screen down against his chest as he looks up the ceiling, feeling impatient as he waits for the next day to arrive.

[writing-for-the-gays]

Run rabbit, run.

HABIT x TRANSMASC! PLUS SIZED! HAIRY! READER

half monster HABIT hc + fic

Tw: HABIT being HABIT | violence| marijuana usage | HABIT is obsessed with t-guy pussy god whispered this in my ear at 3 am | HABIT is obsessed with FAT T-guy pussy | LIGHTLY TOUCHED ON FEEDING | implied MC running on caffeine and weed and not very much sleep| monster habit (I GOT CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY NO IM NOT)

For 🐛 anon

For Evan fuckers: Oh, deer!

-We all know this man is a sadist and masochist, we can't pretend we don't.

-hes a biter!!! He will bite you! Like hard enough to need stitches. You've had a few embarrassing ER visits. (Habit can dress wounds and stitch you up but he just likes how embarrassed you get about it)

- he and Evan are very different in bed, but one thing they have in common is giving head like a god. Dude low-key is obsessed with your cunt.

-but he's good at a 'sloppy drooling messy' kind of head that Ev cannot provide.

- fuck he's in love with your body. Like, he grabs your belly and just plays with it, literally salivating at the idea of leaving hickeys.

- he fucks you in a mirror so you can watch the way your body moves as he fucks you.

-oh and he loves your boobs , hairy man tits? Who fucking wouldn't.

- he stares at them constantly. You couldn't get him to tell you the color of your eyes but he has every hair on your chest memorized 🫡.

- he's into prey and predator dynamics, he gets so incredibly hard when he's chasing you through the woods he can't help himself.

- Vinny has been caught in this game of yours by accident a few times , and if he finds you, covered in bite marks half naked with twigs in your hair and he just gives you one of these looks:

- HABITs into knife play, you have lots of scars from it and he doesn't feel bad Abt it 😔✊.

- HE WANTS TO BE PEGGED but with one of the ones with a silicone grinding thing inside so it grinds right against your t-dick.

-hes a dom bottom mind you.

- but you peg him and he becomes a stupid feral mess.

(so obsessed with the idea I wrote the fanfic Abt it so it's going here instead of at the end)

He could feel your hairy belly press against his back as the silicone abused his prostate; drool pooling on the corner of his lip, looking back and admiring you he let out a purr. You look away, you can't look at the smug very fucked drunk grin you're sure he's giving you.

Your hips stutter against him and he tenses as you hit his prostate dead on, his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open as you wring another orgasm from him.

You begin to slow your hips, grinding the silicone tip slowly inside of him, exhaustion and want find respite in your bones.

You need to stop and cum, this grinding wasn't enough, you needed more, his tongue, his cock, his fingers his anything.

He presses against you, back arching with the curve of your stomach, resting against it as he comes into a position that shouldn't be comfortable.

You avoid his eye contact and his thumb, middle finger and index finger grab at your face, turning your head harshly to look at him.

His eyes bore into yours and it makes you want to squeeze your own shut, but you just can't, like he has some kind of hold on your mind you cant avoid his gaze.

His face is flushed, and he's drooling. But his eyes, while dilated and wet with tears, were strong and threatening.

"I didn't say you could slow down rabbit." He rolls his hips against yours and it sends pleasure shooting across your body.

"Good little rabbits do what they're told. They run when they're told to run, right?" He captures your lips in his and his tongue forces it's way into your mouth before you can respond.

It's a rough kiss, teeth clacking together and tongues rubbing against each other. You can't help but find yourself getting wetter and wetter, dick getting harder and harder, pressing right up against the grinding pad.

He pulls away and bites your lip hard enough to make you bleed, before letting out a growl.

"So, keep fuckin' me, now. Do what you're told. Run rabbit, run."

-makes you breakfast in bed and he's so hard because he can't stop thinking Abt what your mouth can do and how those teeth can rip and tear apart flesh

-please blow him after eating ✨.

- trust me it's purely to indulge him, don't be surprised if there's something you're allergic to in anything he makes.

- loves getting you really really high to overstimulate you, oh you're really high? Well hes sucking your t-dick rn and finger fucking your hole so have a fun time trying to concentrate on rolling a joint for him.

-it's so badly rolled you literally have to suffocate him with your thighs so he'll back off and you can redo it. It looks like a fucking hard candy.

- Goes fucking feral over your hair, he's into hairy guys and fuck do you fit the bill.

- you keep it at least slightly maintained more for convenience but you don't shave.

- he loves

MONSTER FUCKING AHEAD

-he goes into heat gets bored and can't control himself and goes either fully monster (basically a demon anthro hare with grey and washed out purple fur, sharp teeth and claws) or partially monster (EARS AND TAIL AND TEETH AND CLAWS AND NOTHING ELSE)

- knotted tentacle dick bc peace and love on planet earth.

- he gets real possessive during this kind of thing, leaving enough marks for Vinny to notice. And they're not human sized either

- large, deep, scabbed over marks on most of your visible skin, most will probably scar.

- and vinny doesn't really care (look you're a consenting adult and you seem to contest enthusiastically if what he's heard through the walls indicate.)

-but he DOES give you this look

- and asks a few slightly personal questions, bc what the fuck how do you fuck THAT hard.

- mainly to embarrass you.

- habit thinks your discomfort is funny so even if you try to get him to stop he won't.

- speaking of discomfort- when he's in foreplay is non existent, he'll literally pull your pants and boxers down and fuck you whenever. His dick produces enough lube for it not to hurt too bad. But it's not comfortable.

- he's broken the bed too many times to count, you've tried metal bedframes, you've tried springs, you've tried a water bed (that's not a story you like to talk about), you've done it all, and every time he fucks you hard enough to destroy it beyond repair.

- if you fuck him expect a noise complaint. His vocal chords are different which means he clicks and purrs and shit but also, loud as shit growls that vibrate the house.

- play with his ears and tail and he'll cum immediately (especially with a well angled strap-on.)

- sloppy head just got sloppier with his ultra long tongue and extra drool. Squirt on his face and he'll keep eating you out! (Call now only for the low low price of your soul and all sense of sanity!)

- after care is him licking cum off your chest and then letting Evan take over because fuck that lovey dovey shit. (he'd marry you if he could)

~^°^~^°^~^°^~^°^~•⁠.̫•~^°^~^°^~^°^~

I tried my best but got carried away and it's not proof read. Uuh hope you enjoyed? Don't kill me.

[sarahdogoc80]

"Native Gene". What the Hell does that even mean Lily Orchard?

Jesus Christ I step away for a while and I come back to craziness. What the fuck is a native Gene? Does she mean her skin is Darker then her siblings? Does that mean her DNA alines more with natives compared to her full blooded sister?.

While I don't like to get into race and it's ugly history it should probably be stated that Lily came from two white parents (I've seen their pictures) and has mostly white grandparents. So at the very least she is way more white then not. Plus I know is trying to darken her skin with makeup.... Which feel a little iffy.

I am uncomfortable with people claiming to be something they aren't for some kind of street cred. I've almost been killed because of my race. But because Lily is white she likey hasn't been victim of a race related crime. I know she claims she was stabbed but I think that's because she was trans not ""native""".

My mom after she had me was cut off form her dad's side of the family because my dad was Mexican. So almost two years later when her dad's parents claim they wanted to meet me because I was their first ever great grand child my mom was so excited for me to meet them. So we go over there and I'm running around because I'm a baby who is finally walking. Well my great grandpa pulls out a gun and "starts cleaning it". Note because of how my mom grew up she didn't think it was odd he decided to clean a gun right then and there. So I have eventually stopped running around and started just bouncing myself up and down while holding onto the couch. That's when my great grandpa takes the shot. He missed by mer inches. Infact you can still see when the bullet went into the floor as my mom now owes that house. My mom quickly picked me up and ran out of there. My great grandpa tried to play it off as an accidently discard. But my mom is a lot of things but stupid sure as hell isn't one of them. So just because of my race my great grandpa was willing to shoot me his own family as a fucking baby. Just because my dad wasn't white. Well she didn't talk to them till after my chemo. At which point because she wanted to see her dad more regularly (he lived with his parents after my grandma divorced him). So she eventually took me and my brother over there. And they fucking hated my brother because he looks more Mexican then I do. Especially after the chemo. Due to almost dying and avoiding sun light for years like a vampire my skin had become lighter. And all of a sudden my great grandparents loved me. They started buying me gifts, started wanting me to come over all the time. Actually you know interacting with me. But they did non of that with my brother. So after mom starts trusting them again she lets her dad take us over there without her supervision.

Well one of the worse cases of racism I seen happen against my brother was one day we were over there. My great grandpa gave me a bag of chips. Now my brother was like 3/4ish at the time and still mute. So when my grandpa sees his dad give me chips he tells my brother to go get some. Now because my brother can't speak at this time. He runs up to him and hugs his leg with one up and does the gummies hands with the other. My great grandpa without care or hesitation kicks my toddler brother away and he hits the TV stand. He is shocked and so am I. He sits there moves his hand to the back of his head (where I assumed he hit it) looked at my great grandpa with the most betrayed and saddest look and start crying. My great grandpa didn't say sorry and when I asked why he did that. He said he doesn't want no "r*traded Wetback" touching him. So I went over to my brother to check him and he raised his arms and wanted to be picked up so I picked him up and almost fell because he was half my size. But I get us to the couch and he starts biting his pointer finger (note this is a stress behavior he did well into his teens) while crying. I check the back of his head and while there is a lump forming no blood. So I thought he would be fine. And while he specifically was fine (my mom rushed him to the ER when my grandpa gave us back to our mom and she seen the lump. And they said was going to be okay. But if he had a concussion or something I don't remember I just wanted to know if he was going to be okay.) if this happens to a child and a lump forms take your kid to the ER. I had to soothe my brother because my great grandma and my grandpa were ignoring the whole situation. I eventually offered to give him a back scratch and he calmed down. After this I tried to share my chip (another note chips are and always have been my brother's favorite food) and my great grandpa yells telling me not to share with him. I asked why and he said he doesn't deserve chips. And because I was scared I pretended to eat the chips while my brother kept trying to get me to give him some and actually tried to grab the back to which my great grandpa yelled at him that he'd pop him in his mouth if he didn't sit down and shut the fuck up. He's yelling this at a mute autistic toddler because he has the audacity to be born. I eventually don't care anymore and throw the half eaten bag away. They don't notice it's half eaten he wasn't that crazy. So now me and my brother are stuck in this living room watch a show we don't care about. My brother has one hand rubbing his lump and the other one he is bite on. I have to keep taking his finger out because he actually started to break he skin. He was under so much stress he kept biting even while he was bleeding. So I (I was a weird kid and always had bandaids on me) band aid his finger and had to keep stopping him for bitting. My great grandpa starts taunting us and say he can already tell my brother is going to be a drug dealer and stuff like that. But the breaking point were I did the first time asked my grandpa to take us home. Was when my great grandpa noticed my brother had asked for a hug and he said "Watch out *my name* one day the little spick's hand will be around your throat when he needs drug money." I then yelled "stop it popal (what we called him)" and asked my grandpa to take us home. To which he said no. Eventually the old bastard goes down for his nap. At which point I ask again for my grandpa to take us home. He says no your mom is sleeping I can't drop you off till 6. He then gets up and gives us each a bag of chips from his dad's stash and tell us to go play up in the playroom. So that what we did. It was more like we were hiding in there because we didn't want to have to deal out great grandpa.

These are my worse personal experiences with racism. This is what it is on a personal level. Just fear, hatred, abuse, and traumatizing. I feel Lily is also glamorizing the idea of what us people of non white skin colors have to face. And if I'm being honest the Hispanic/Latino, Blacks, and Native Americans get it the worse. And because Lily has neither black or Hispanic/Latino heritage anywhere she can remotely leech off of but does have a Native line she can. It's probably why she pushed this idea that she is one. Because she wants to be part of something she isn't. She is still trans and bisexual and those are two groups she could be fighting for. But no she wants to play dress up and pretend to be a race she isn't and didn't have to live her whole life as. Just so she can be a part of something she's not. Because she fetishizes and glamorizes the struggle and victories she only knows a fraction about. You are gross Lily. You don't actually care about what racism is. You don't care about how it effects us in life for the rest of our lives on a personal level. I almost died and my brother was abused for no other reason then our dad's heritage. You need help Lily. You need to look at the human side of racism and not the clean markable racism you were taught in school.

Edit I didn't get to participate in the cool Internet racism. Were you can drop one liners and own the conservative/ racist. I had to live in the racism that was ugly and cruel. I got to be told my own brother would one day kill me because he looked a little too Mexican for mein führer. I lived in the racism that tried to teach me I am worth more because I am lighter skinned. I lived in the racism with abuse because my brother wasn't the right skin tone. I hope I made my point clear as to my opinion on Lily's race and why it does matter

[sluttywonwoo]

DEAR LORD THE WY ASK GOT ME SO EMOTIONAL???? WHY DO I SEE SAN AS SOMEONE THAT WOULD DO THAT TOO??? MAYBE NOT EXACTLY THE SAME BUT THE WHOLE JEALOUS TUNNEL VISION SHIFT TO GUILT AND TEARS?? ESP WITH HOW MUCH OF A SWITCH HE IS WHEN HE PERFORMS… THANK YOU FOR WRITING THAT. THAT WAS A GOOD READ ALSO THANK U TO THE USER THAT SENT THAT ASK. I LOVE U BOTH.

a san ver. you say… also the idea for woo was sent by my irl bestie @sluttywoozi <3

switch!san is literally so important to me

cw: rough sex!! lil bit of injury during sex (obvs mdni this is an nsfw blog)

“gotta be quiet, okay? as much as i want that asshole to hear you cumming on my cock, we don’t want to get kicked out, do we?”

you shake your head in response, which seems to satisfy your boyfriend. san rewards you by snapping his hips into yours, bending you over the bathroom sink as he does.

the marble countertop is cold on your tits. you can feel the chill of it through the thin material of your shirt.

when he dragged you into the bar’s bathroom, san hadn’t even bothered with undressing you all the way. he just pushed your skirt up and pulled your panties aside and fucked you like that. hard and rough and fast.

it felt good, but the pace he’d set had your hips repeatedly slamming into the counter and you’re starting to get sore. you can already feel the spots where your body meets the marble starting to bruise and you can only imagine what they’ll look like come morning.

“ah, ow…” you groan, trying to wrestle your arms free from where san has then pinned behind your back.

san freezes. “ow? what’s ow? what hurts?what’s wrong?”

he’s quick to pull out and turn you around, giving you a once over as he holds your hands in his.

“san, it’s nothing—”

“don’t fucking lie to me.”

“my… my hips were just starting to get sore from the countertop. but i’m fine, really.”

san lets your hands fall to your sides so that he can use his own to assess the extent of the damage. his thumbs press gently into your sides and you wince, whimpering under your breath.

“oh my god, baby. i’m so so sorry. let me go ask the bartender for some ice—”

“w-wait, but we’re not done,” you protest.

“baby,” he tries, zipping up his jeans. “you’re hurting.”

“it’s not that bad!” he gives you a look. “i promise! we can just try a different position.”

“why don’t we just wait until we get home?” san suggests. “that way you can be nice and comfortable on the bed.”

“i want it now,” you pout. “i didn’t get to cum yet. and you’re still hard.”

“of course i’m still hard. it’s you.”

“then take me against the wall or something.”

“i honestly don’t think i can look myself in the eye right now,” he admits, eyeing the giant mirror that hung above the sink. “especially not while i fuck you.”

you frown. “baby, please don’t feel bad. it was an accident.”

“that doesn’t make it ok!”

“i know, but you already apologized,” you point out. he’s quiet for a moment. “are you not in the mood anymore?”

“no, no, i am! i just… hate that i was too rough on you— over something so stupid too. i hate being that guy.”

“i know, baby. and you’re not,” you insist. “but if you really want to show me how sorry you are…” you trail off and san nods eagerly, willing to do practically anything to make it right. “why don’t you get down on your knees for me and start by making me feel good?”

[mychlapci]

I need to wifeify idw Prowl so bad… I almost don’t even care who does it, but I bet the Constructicons could do it entirely by accident. One drunken orgy and they’d be halfway there already! Prowl’s t-cog reconfiguring him just to be able to fit Long Haul or Bonecrusher’s huge spike inside, widening that trim little waist into a plush, mommy sway. Giving him a perfect, sexy hourglass of a figure just to be able to frag in the first place. The sight of a huge spike distending his belly would be enough to give Prowl his first overload, his horny subconscious giving his t-cog permission to align his nodes to maximize pleasure in his valve. His belly would swell a little with load after load as the whole team too turns fucking his valve, his aft, his mouth.

They’d worship his pretty titties the whole time, sucking, nipping, pinching them. It’d be enough to get them producing, between the forge rapidly filling with transfluid and the stimulation. He’d overload again as Scavenger drained them with his mouth, configuring and reconfiguring to produce more and more milk for the ‘baby’ with each successful draining. By the end of the night he’d look perfectly plush and fertile! But that wouldn’t be enough to change his mind.

No, that’d happen subconsciously, probably by accident through the gestalt bond. They’d fantasize or dream about Prowl as a soft, pretty wife after seeing him strung out on pleasure, and some of it would trickle through. Slowly warming him to the idea through worship and overloads without ever even meaning to. Until one day, Prowl buys a skirt. Just as a surprise, for a little kinky sex. Except it drives them all crazy, and they can’t stop overloading and praising and worshiping their good, pretty little mama. Sucking at his node under the skirt while they finger his needy, wet valve until he’s ready to beg for spike. Giving him so many orgasms he can’t see straight as he bounces on yet another spike, praising him for how beautiful and soft and perfect he is.

And suddenly it’s not a one-off kinky sex thing, it’s becoming increasingly common. They keep calling him their pretty wife, and it feels so good. Feels so good acting out their fantasies, feeding them dinner, wearing their little gifts, keeping their space in order. Ruling the roost, as it were, while the Constructicons drool over him. And now they can’t stop imagining him pregnant, tits swollen even further with milk and absolutely radiant with pleasure. Prowl finds himself masturbating to *their* fantasies in his office so frequently that he has to take time off, hands skimming over his own semi-flat belly. Semi-flat, of course, because they fuck him full of cum so often the little tummy never fully goes away. But he can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to actually get pregnant, if it feels this right to be soft and pretty and sweet to the team.

Surely they’d be willing to help him with his little problem…?

The constructicons need to turn Prowl into a pretty little mommy… their huge spikes widen his hips, their constant sucking on his titties makes them big and swollen, and he finds himself wearing that skirt, sometimes still crusted with transfluid, even when he's all by himself.

Prowl should ride their spikes like he’s lost his mind, finally broken and begging them to fuck him pregnant, to put a nice, fat baby into his forge. He was made for this, they know that.

I am seeing a vivid image of… Prowl with a pregnant belly, dutifully drinking his fuel, wearing his pretty skirt with someone’s hand snuck below and finger-fucking his pussy until he’s cumming himself stupid. Once they’re done, his valve stays fully naked under the skirt, lubricant cooling off and drying out… Maybe he eventually starts going to work wearing it, showing everyone how pretty of a wife he really is, getting off on the thought that if his skirt flipped, everyone would see his pregnant pussy underneath <3

Maybe he gains so much baby weight the skirt is just too small and most of his ass and valve are visible from the back anyways… brghh

[usermischief]

Steo Prompt Request:

When Character A turns up at his rivals's door to yell at him, but Character B has a fever and mistakes him for a dream, then when Character A checks his temperature Character B leans into his hand, covering it with his own and says, "Stay ... You never stay."

a/n: sorry, it took me a hot second to write this. I hope you like it. And thank you so much for the prompt! 💖

~~~

“Theo, I swear to— fuck.”  Stiles bangs his fist against the door once more for good measure.  

Three rooms down, a door swings open. Out pops the disheveled head of Donovan, Theo’s feral frat brother. He’s still sporting a black eye from the lacrosse ball Kira not-so-accidentally chucked at his face after one too many stupid comments on Stiles’ behalf. 

Stiles pins him with a glare. “You want another one of those?” 

Donovan opens his mouth, ready to argue, then purses his lips. A variety of emotions crosses his features — too fast for Stiles to decipher, but most likely none of them good. He probably still has a lot to say about yesterday's humiliation, but he slams the door shut instead. Surprising, albeit better this way. There is no way this would’ve been resolved peacefully with how pissed Stiles is at Theo, who still hasn’t opened is fucking door.  

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles whips around again, glaring at the immovable object. He could break into Theo’s room easily enough, but even Stiles has enough decency not to do that — especially if he’s running the risk of watching Tracy lounge in Theo’s bed. Naked, probably. He scrunches up his face. 

This really needs to stop. 

“Theo!” Stiles bellows once more, ignoring someone else yelling at him. He doesn’t care. Not at all. They’re lucky he waited until 6 am because he would’ve been ready to strangle Theo at 3 am too. Maybe he should’ve done it. It is entirely possible Theo’s door would have been open at that time.  

Fine.

He’s going to get into this room one way or another. 

Before he’s got the chance to move away, however, the lock clicks and the door creeps open. 

Theo looks, for the lack of a better word, terrible. His skin is pale, his eyes glossy, and he leans heavily on the door, almost like his legs won’t be able to support him for very long. He blinks at him, slowly, and leans towards Stiles for a moment before swaying back. It takes everything in him not to grab Theo before he falls on his ass. Come to think of it, Theo wasn’t really himself yesterday. Usually, he is the one to step in when Donovan takes it too far. Yesterday, however, Kira ended the argument.

Maybe that’s why.  

All of Stiles’ anger evaporates at once. That would certainly explain Theo’s weird text message. ‘Can you stop looking at me like you hate me?’. Sure, that text message could’ve been sent to him by accident – except Theo doesn’t make accidents like that. He lets out a breath and reaches for Theo’s face. His pink cheeks are already telling Stiles everything he needs to know, yet he’d rather make sure.  

Carefully, he brushes his fingertips over Theo’s forehead. It’s slick with sweat, and strands of hair cling to it. Stiles barely resists the urge to run his fingers through Theo’s hair. All the feelings he’s buried deep, deep threaten to spill out at once. Stiles grinds his teeth, forcing himself to swallow each and every single one of them, and puts the back of his hand against Theo’s forehead instead.  

As expected, he’s burning up. 

Theo makes a soft sound in the back of his throat and grabs Stiles’ hand, keeping it pressed against his skin – almost as if it helped him cool down somehow. “Stay,” Theo mutters, eyes closed. “You never stay.”

Stiles opens his mouth, ready for a scalding remark. The words, however, get stuck somewhere just underneath his jaw, refusing to roll over his tongue. He can’t even bring himself to pull his hand away. After all, Theo isn’t wrong. Stiles never stays, but Theo was the one who left. Sure, Theo was ten and didn’t exactly have much of a say in his parents’ plan, and while not living in the same city hurt like hell, what broke Stiles was the radio silence. Theo simply up and vanished as if he never even existed in the first place. 

And then he returned, acted like nothing ever happened, like he didn’t break little Stiles’ heart. 

“Please.”

It’s breaking all over again, just for an entirely different reason. “Okay,” Stiles whispers, allowing Theo to drag him into his bedroom. If Stiles is entirely honest, he’s doubts Theo has been fully aware of what’s happening around him. Considering he’s asleep before his head hits the pillow, Stiles wonders if he's even been fully awake at all. He drags the blanket over Theo’s sleeping form and turns away. Leaving would be the right thing to do. Theo probably didn’t mean for him to stay. Maybe he couldn’t even tell who was standing in front of him.  

Nevertheless, he can’t bring himself to leave. Growing up with a sick mother made Stiles hesitant of leaving sick people unattended. Most of the time, he is overreacting. Still, Theo seems completely out of it, and a high fever could turn bad quickly – and Stiles doubts Donovan is going to take care of Theo, or anyone here, really. The people Stiles would consider Theo’s friends aren’t part of this fraternity. Stiles would like to believe that not even Theo would be here if not for his father’s insistence on keeping up appearances. 

Or maybe he’s just hoping that’s the case. After all, Stiles hasn’t seen Theo for eight years. 

Sighing, Stiles strolls through Theo’s room. It’s clean, almost sterile, with white walls and no personal belongings aside from the stuff related to his studies. When Theo was a kid, his bedroom was full off clutter, little league trophies, pictures of his friends and sister, books and DVDs, clothes, and half-finished paintings. His bedroom used to be lived in. Now, everything’s at its designated spot and the room feels as if someone sucked out all its life. 

No thanks to Mrs. Raeken’s influence. 

He is still snooping quietly, flipping through books, opening drawers – when else would he have the chance, right? Maybe he can find something to kick Theo out of the lacrosse team. The guy loathed lacrosse when he was younger. Besides, he’s also on the football team. If he quit lacrosse, his coach would make him captain at once – and who wouldn’t want to be captain of the football team? It comes with glory and lots of sex.

Then again, Theo can probably get his dick wet whenever he wants.

Stiles grimaces at the thought, hating that he immediately thinks of Tracy. It’s hard to tell how Theo feels about her, but Tracy is head over heels. Just thinking about it makes Stiles’ clench his teeth. His stomach hardens. He hates her. Irrationally so, he’s fully aware of that. They’ve met twice at parties, and all Tracy did was hang onto Theo’s arm as if she turns into dust the second, she lets go. If only she weren’t so fucking pretty with her long brown hair and perfect figure. Then again, she’s not particularly smart. Kira mentioned she’s failing a few of her classes because she struggles with the general coursework and is more interested in everything that’s not her studies. That’s a big fat minus in Theo’s book. If he took anything to heart his parents drilled into him from a young age, it’s that a good education, determination, and the pursuit of a goal are extremely important.

Even if they were in any form of relationship now, it would never last. Theo would never settle down with someone like her. He’d be more interested in someone like-

Stiles gives his head a shake.

Nope. Not going down that road.

It’s probably a good idea to get his mind off Theo for a while. He spent so much time snooping; the sun is already setting.

Scrunching up his face, Stiles sits down at Theo’s desk and drags the laptop towards him. It’s a long shot, really, but his passwords for everything used to be his nickname for his sister and Theo’s grandmother’s birthday. Knowing his luck, it might be a different one now. Still, it’s worth a shot if he doesn’t want to end up spiraling until Theo wakes up again. He opens the laptop up, trying to remember Grandma Raeken’s birthday, when the background picture causes his heart to skip a beat. 

Oh.

Staring back at him are Tara, with the biggest and proudest grin on her face, ruffling her little brother’s hair. Theo is mid-movement to put his Little League cap back on, scowling up at his sister. Then there is Stiles himself, just nine-years old, Little League trophy clutched in his hands, doubling over laughing. 

This very moment happened exactly two months before the Raeken’s move, and six months before Tara’s death. She looked so incredibly happy here. 

“I hated it when she did that.”

Stiles jolts and slams the laptop shut, wincing a little at the sound of the impact. “You’re awake,” he says and pushes his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. Although Theo doesn’t look much better, the additional couple hours of sleep he’s gotten seemed to have cleared his head. His eyes look a lot more focused now; their intense stare rooting him to the spot on his chair.

“You’re here.” Theo’s tone is even, calm. His eyes narrow slightly, assessing the situation as his gaze flicks from Stiles to the laptop and back again, now focused on Stiles’ hand as he makes a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t think you were actually here.”

Furrowing his brows, Stiles lowers his hands into his lap. “You thought I was a fever dream?” Stiles quirks a brow. If that’s the case, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to get Theo to a hospital to get checked out. Now, however, he seems a lot more awake and aware of everything going on around him. “Is that why you sent me that stupid text?” Because that is why he’s here. Not to take care of Theo. Not to drive him to a doctor. He’s here because Theo has the fucking audacity to act offended by Stiles’ glaring at him.

Theo visibly winces and turns to look out the window. “That’s why you’re here.”

“You know,” Stiles says, getting to his feet with a shake of his head, “if you didn’t constantly try to upstage me in everything I do, I wouldn’t look at you like that.”

“Upstaging you?” Theo stares at him again, brows raised in utter confusion. “I’m not upstaging you.”

Stiles huffs out a breath and sits down again. That’s just ridiculous. Theo is and always has been one of the most competitive people in the world. He wants, no, he needs to be on top. Always and in absolutely everything he’s doing. While in the few classes they’re sharing, Stiles remains to be the winner – although Theo is very close behind – there’s nothing he can do in Lacrosse. Theo came in, rained on his parade, and too his spot as Co-Captain from him with no issue at all. That’s absolutely no cause for concern regarding his scholarship, it was still a nice feeling after his shitty high school experience. Plus, it’s Theo. Who hates lacrosse. Who is already co-captain of the football team. Who is just pissed that Stiles hasn’t welcomed him back with open arms.

“I’m just trying-“ Theo stops himself, pressing his lips together. “We used to be best friends.”

“And then you fucked off and acted like I didn’t even exist,” Stiles whispers.

Closing his eyes, Theo sinks back into his pillows. “I thought it was easier to lose you all at once than over time.” The words are sharper than any knife could ever be. It's a talent Theo has always possessed. Looks like he’s got the chance to refine it over the years.

Stiles isn’t any less successful in hitting where it hurts, but the words took all of his fight away in one foul swoop. He presses his hands together and stares at the ground. “Why’d you never—” but Stiles cuts himself off with a wince. How could Theo have ever said anything at all? Stiles made sure to flee the scene as quickly as possible whenever he appeared.

You never stay.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he gets up from the chair and crosses the room. Stiles kicks off his shoes without hesitation. It’s either now or never; if he doesn’t stay this time, Theo is not going to give him another chance, not when he’s opening the door this wide.

Theo draws his brows together. “What are you doing?”

Stiles tosses his jacket over the chair. “I’m staying,” he says resolutely, briefly glancing at Theo before he climbs over him and settles next to his head.

“Stiles, I’m sick.”

“Yeah, well…” Stiles doesn’t really have anything to say to that. Staying now most definitely will only make him sick as well, but he’d rather get sick than lose Theo like that again. “Just sleep,” he whispers, gently tugging the blanket up over Theo’s shoulders. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Theo raises his brows, and his eyes roam over his features almost as if he’s trying to catch him in a lie. Then he smiles. “Okay,” Theo whispers and closes his eyes, settling into a comfortable position next to him.

Despite knowing better, Stiles runs his fingers through Theo’s short stands. It would be best for him to ignore the way his heart rejoices at the way Theo smiles because of this simple touch. Stiles closes his eyes and leans his head back. He’s fucked. He’s so thoroughly fucked.

Stiles glances down at Theo again, unable to hide his smile this time.

Unless… maybe he’s not.

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Finally Found Home

Dante x reader, slight platonic Vergil x reader

Word Count: 1013

A/N: a lot of feels about my relationship with the only parent i have rn and it was crippling, so i'd hoped by writing this, i could… idk, get some of it out. also unedited, but i think i did okay. please enjoy! and be comforted if it is needed by you. <3

Warnings: use of the word 'fuck' once, 'damn' once, descriptions of panic attacks, crying, and then being comforted by Dante (and briefly by Vergil) bc i have a mighty need to be cradled right about now. dante also calls reader 'baby', 'darling', and 'sweetheart' requests are open, as well :D

─────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅─────────────────

The shatter of glass made my arms raise up above my head in shock. Bracing for what I knew, logically, wouldn't come, I sigh shakily. I will my arms down. I look down, only to see the shattered remnants of one of Vergil's favourite teacups. Hot tears kiss my eyelashes, before falling, crashing down like a wave. I, like the teacup, shatter.

I collapse, just barely missing the shards in front of me, the hot tea soaking into the material of my pants. I've bruised my knees- I can tell by the way they ache and the loudness of my *thunk* as I hit the floor. Gentle hands go to grab at me to comfort me, but I flinch. Stupid, stupid- I'm muttering, aren't I? A voice trails in, strong arms scooping me up, a nose being buried into my hair. I just keep crying. I don't even know who's picked me up. Was I in trouble? Am I in trouble...? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-

"You're not in trouble, jesus, I promise. I'm worried about you, that's all. You damn near cracked the floor when you fell." Dante's voice curls through my hateful thoughts right as he opens the door to his room with his boot. He refuses to let me go. He sets me gently on his bed. "Okay, baby, what's wrong? I've never seen you like this before. Tell me what's up, sweetheart, I'm worried like hell." His voice is nearly frantic and his brows are furrowed where he sits in front of me, hands holding mine comfortingly. I didn't know I had said any of my thoughts out loud. I try to croak out a response despite the lump in my throat.

It comes out hoarse. "I'm so sorry I broke it, Vergil's gonna hate me, it was one of his favourite sets, I'm so terrible, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to-" My voice spills like a pouring cup and Dante hushes me, drawing himself up just far enough to lean down and rest his forehead to mine. Warm. Dante was always so warm. He frees one hand to rub at my cheeks, only to feel my now-empty hand grasp frantically at his.

His hand links back into mine, tightening his fingers around my smaller ones. "Okay, okay, it's okay. Darling, he's not upset, he's not gonna hate you. In fact, he's worried sick about you. I asked if he'd clean up the accident, and then he could check on you. He wants to make sure you're okay, he really isn't worried about a silly teacup, even if it was one of his favourite sets. He's not upset and I'm not either. And we're sure as fuck not gonna hit you, okay?" He kisses my forehead gently, then he walks away momentarily, going to his bathroom.

He calls out. "Hey, sweetheart, could you take off your jeans for me? I've gotta make sure your knees are okay." I nod, despite him being unable to see me, and shuffle out of my tea-soaked pants. I would put them in the hamper in the corner, but I can hardly move my legs properly. He walks out and smiles softly, before kneeling before me again. A warm, damp washcloth drags against the skin of my knees and Dante's eyes darken when he sees the already-bruised flesh.

He cleans me gently, before putting antibiotic ointment on my knees and putting large bandaids over both. I sniffle and rub at my tired eyes. He looks up at me and then moves to put the washcloth back in the bathroom and tosses me pants into his hamper. Dante walks to his closet before pulling out one of his big sweaters- a green one, knitted and warm- and he walks back to me, slipping the garment over me. He kneels far enough to place kisses on my bandaged knees.

I tear up again, Dante's soft hands coming to wipe them away. He kisses my nose and picks me back up, lays on the bed, and cradles me in his arms as he covers us both up. "I don't know what's wrong, but I do know you and I know you don't like talking about your family much. Or your childhood. And that's okay. I will NEVER do what they might've done to you and I can promise Verge won't either. Nero for damn sure won't. We all care about you too much. So for now, you try to get some sleep and if you want me to, I can wake you once Vergil comes up. Sound good, sweetheart?" He says, tucking me into him and curling his thick comforter around me. I nod into his chest. His hand comes up to gently pull the sleeves of his sweater over my knuckles.

He smiled softly, before pressing a few sweet, worried kisses on my head. "Alright, I'll do that then. Just promise me you'll try to get a bit of sleep, yeah?" He continues, before pausing. He speaks up again. "I love you, sweetheart. Don't forget that. Now sleep, okay? Nero should be on his way home with stuff for dinner. I love you. So, so, so much." As he finishes, he presses more and more kisses into my hair and I sigh softly as I melt into him and his warmth. He was always so good to me.

As I drift off, I hear the door open and hear a muted conversation and soft voices I knew so well. They only serve to help me drift off farther.

I hear a few bits of the exchange as my mind finally begins to fade off fully and I smile softly as I feel Vergil's weight next to me on the bed. I feel his hand running gingerly through my hair.

"Are they alright, Dante?"

"I don't know. But they're always gonna be safe with us. And thanks for cleaning it."

"No trouble at all, brother. And yes, we will always keep them safe. They are our home."

"Yes they are, brother mine."

[catiuskaa]

new task: valentine’s day (ACTS)

A/N: reposting by acts! [see full version here]. wanted to see if this format works better (and yes i will squeeze everything in this one right here cause its amazing and i 100% worked my ass off on it)

PAIRING! seungmin x reader ; enemies/rivals2lovers!

SUMMARY: boring classes, boring classmates, boring assignments…to seungmin, everyone is boring even if he’s used to pretend otherwise, but you seem to get on his nerves. you, your stupid poem, and his stupid letter.

WC: 3.150k

CW: fluffy comfort, use of spanglish (not relevant to the plot, dw), use of text format, the reader is stupidly short (which i know all about), academic rivals, bad student reader x good student seungmin, mentions of the unability to deal with complicated feelings, mentions of masking feelings, slight hint of bullying, mentions of being followed, (pet)names: little one, shortie, shortcake, smallable, pretty, hyunjin as a walking therapist, and the ending is kind of a reference to a show i'm obsessed with (not gonna say it so i don't spoil it for you guys hehehe)

|PROLOGUE| |ACT 1| |ACT 2| |ACT 3|

[☆★🌷★☆]

{ACT 1: NOT A LOVEFOOL… YET}

To be in the same class group than him was slightly tolerable.

Is what you’d like to say if you were in a good mood. But it wasn’t the case.

You were mad. As fuck.

“I just need you to give it a chance,” Miss Fernández stated once more, and you had to hold back to not roll your eyes at her.

“But Miss. I know that this subject is difficult and that he could, uh, help me out with the project,” you muttered reluctantly, because on normal circumstances, you wouldn’t go as far as to let Kim Seungmin help you with chemistry. Not ever.

You weren’t in need of help that desperatly.

And that was a fact, not a matter of ifs, buts, or maybes. That was an absolute. Something that lovely-yet-not-so-much teacher Lucía Fernández, spanish accent and all, was not getting.

“Listen. We both know that your grade is the best I can offer considering your behaviour in my class, despite of your average knowledge of the subject. And in this case, I am offering to set that aside if you work on these following assignments with your classmate Seungmin.”

Her harsh tone was also an absolute, and that made you clench your jaw. You blamed Lucas for her attitude towards you —after all, that one accident with a Bunsen Burner had been mostly his fault—, but you breathed in, trying to offer your most pity-inducing grin.

Judging by her glare, it wasn’t working.

“Miss, I—”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t look like she was. “It’s my last word. And I think that after coming three days to my office on each of your free periods, this is getting a bit tiring.” She sighed, adjusting her glasses by a soft push of her finger.

Nope. She definetely wasn’t sorry.

Witholding a groan you left her office, and huffed as the door closed behind you, swiftly heading to meet your group of friends when they got out of their Biology lesson in other building within the school grounds.

It was a chilly evening, maybe not too much from what one could expect for the first week of February, still one that made you hide your face in your scarf and you hands in your jacket pockets.

You settled your headphones where they belonged, humming to the music to hold back the need to rant and rave against your chemistry teacher, when your phone dinged.

< henry li🫧: everything ok? saw you in lucifer’s office rn

< henry li🫧: did you do smth again? you cheekyyy 🙊

You gingerly laughed, and started typing out your answer, when, out of nowhere, you bumped against someone, making all of the books that they were carrying fall down of their grasp.

You pursed your lips, then pressed them in a thin line. Staring at their— his back, you saw that his backpack was almost empty. Why the fuck would he carry all of his books on his hands then?

The guy had quickly bent down to get his books back, and you followed too, taking your headphones off and quickly trying to prevent the papers from getting wet because of the floor, that was damp from the rain before, when your hands softly brushed against each other, still, you forced yourself to ignore it.

“I’m so…” the word dissapeared in your mouth.

“It’s ok, don’t… oh.” He blinked, his face showing nothing. For fuck’s sake.

Why did it always have to be him?

He swiftly took all of the things from you, as if your touch could be worse than the wet floor. You frowned, feeling a cold shiver trail up your spine, and you crossed your arms in front of you, struggling to seek some warmth.

“Watch it, little one.” He mocked with a light smirk. “I might accidentally step on you one day.”

You looked at him through your eyelashes. What. An. Idiot. You passed a hand through your hair, chuckling dryly.

“I-,” you sighed, shaking your head sideways. “Nah, you know what? I don’t have time for this crap.” You smiled at him widely, full of sarcasm.

But just when you were about to leave, you felt a tug at your sleeve, the fabric of your shirt not thick enough to hide the warmth of Seungmin’s grasp on your forearm. You frowned, confused at the lack of any uncomfortable feelings because of it. There was none, but rather a need to cover yourself with it and wear it like a jacket.

“Did you fix it?”

You blinked, trying to get your brain to focus on his words.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but his hand didn’t move an inch. “You said you were going to talk to Miss Fernández so we wouldn’t be partners, which is, well, so mature, congratulations,” he tsked, but then continued. “But did it work?”

You licked your lips and swallowed, your throat feeling dry. What was going on? You needed to focus.

In a harsh motion, you moved your arm away from his grasp. You forced yourself to ignore how your skin missed it.

“I… no. She settled. You- I mean… we…” the word felt awkward when it rolled off your tongue.

We? There was no such thing in between Seungmin and you. No we, no us, no nothing. And it was like that for a reason. One that you had almost forgotten with how softly his slender and warm hand had been holding your forearm. Ugh.

As you struggled to say those infamous words, your phone dinged again, and you mumbled a short “oh, wait,” and unlocked it.

< henry li🫧: leaving me on read, shortcake?

Seungmin stared at your phone, shoving his hands on his pockets when he saw you smile at the bright screen. He bit his lower lip. He hadn't taken all of his stuff out of his backpack just for this.

“So,” he licked his lips, and it almost shocked you the sudden roughness on his tone and demeanour. “Chemistry is easy. We can meet up on Friday in the public library. An hour or two should be enough, even for someone with a fun-sized brain like yours.” He chuckled meanly, the motherfucker.

Ever since that stupid text from him, you had made it your mission to surpass him, or at least reach his level, and to be honest, you were even succeding in some cases, like philosophy, art history, spanish, technical drawing and business studies. But Chemistry?

Chemistry would always kick you in the ass.

Before you were able to come up with a comeback for his stupid snicker, the bell rang, and you felt an arm laying its weight on your shoulders.

“Smallable!” Lucas laughed, then realized that you were talking to a certain someone and ful Ty ly gasped. “Oh my god. Are you two finally dating and I interrupted— AH!” He was interrupted by your elbow hitting his side. Noa and Atenea chuckled behind him.

“No. Seungmin was just leaving.” You huffed with a frown, but then you smiled, almost excessively, like a small maniac. “Right?”

But before he was able to reply or mock you, Atenea spoke, ruining your chances of kicking him away.

“But we all have English now,” she said, and if it had been someone else, like Lucas, you would’ve stepped on his shoe or something. “We’re going to the same place, we can go together.”

Seungmin felt you stare intensively at him. He smiled at Atenea, finding that he enjoyed having you look at him, reason why he loved annoying the shit out of you.

“Sure!” He smiled politely, almost sheepishly, and you bit your lip to hold back the need to scoff at his 'obviously fake' kindness.

Because except for you, the rest of your class —heck, probably the rest of the school— were smitten with Kim Seungmin.

Top of the class, funny, kind, and cutely introverted Kim Seungmin was just a dorky student who tried to get along with everyone.

But that was wrong. And you may not have any proof aside from his mean attitude towards you and only you, but you knew it.

Seungmin had to be more than just a pretty boy with high grades, and it was only with you that he proved you right.

You stayed next to Lucas, hoping that Seungmin would at least stay with your friends and ignore you.

But to your horror, he smiled at you, a pink dust on his cheeks. “If you don’t mind?”

Oh, son of a bitch.

“No… it’s whatever.” You huffed.

Because against his dorky self, to the rest of your class —heck, to the rest of the school— you were the quote on quote “bad student.”

Troublesome, mean, class clown? Check. You laughed at teachers in class with Lucas far more than what could be ignored, the dresscode had always been more of a guide in what to wear, unlike what most students usually followed, and you may have been expelled a bunch of times.

Even if you were somewhat kind to the people in school, and even if they all knew your rivalry with Seungmin, God forbid you were mean to him.

You wouldn’t see the end of it.

And he knew it.

Bitch.

So there you were, walking to English class with your friends plus innocent Seungmin —who no one had called, not even the ghostbusters—, who was snickering and giggling with Atenea about who-gives-a-shit. Something class-related. You couldn’t be bothered to listen.

Lucas chuckled next to you.

“Careful, Spongebob.” He laughed. “Some could say you seem jealous.”

…WHAT?!

“Of… of Kim Seungmin?” You snorted. “Are you on drugs?”

He ruffled your hair. “Sure, sure, keep lying to yourself, shortie.”

Finally, you arrived to class, but before you stepped inside, Seungmin stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“Yeah, shortie.” He teased, his lips almost grazing the shell of your ear. “Don’t be too jealous. We wouldn’t want everyone to know you love me.”

His whisper would’ve been almost enticing if it weren’t for the fact that it was Kim Seungmin the man in question, and he snickered, pushing his glasses back.

But then someone cleared his throat behind you two.

“Care to sit down? I don’t have all day.” Mister Holmes grunted, carrying a monster drink and a coffe at the same time.

That mas was slightly terryifing.

You squinted at Seungmin and then walked to your place at the back of the class, hoping that your cheeks felt warm because of how the teacher had startled you and definetely not your classmate’s honey-like voice.

“Pssst. Heeey,” Noa smiled teasingly, whispering with a smirk. “Pssst. You’re blushing…!”

“Shut up!” You frowned at her, but you were unable to hold back a smile. But it was because of your friend Noa. Not Kim Seungmin.

Mr Holmes cleared his throat, and finished off his monster, throwing it to the bin.

“So. I’ve been hearing from some students in the hallways that you’re all excited for saint valentines’ day.” He stated in a strong voice, one that filled the class with little to no effort. “And sadly so, I was thinking of putting an exam that Wednesday…” he faked a sigh, and you had to hold back a laugh, contrary to the frowns and groans that appeared in your classmates faces. Pfft, what a character. “Unless… you guys want to do something in true valentines fashion.”

Mr Holmes crossed his arms, laying back on his chair, his stare cold and face lacking any kind of emotions.

“Say… any ideas, Mr… Kim?”

Seungmin sat up straight at his name being mentioned, and you rolled your eyes, holding back a mocking smirk.

“I ugh… I wouldn’t want to bother my classmates with a lot of work, sir… but maybe… maybe a writing assingment related to the topic would be… enough?” Seungmin stated, his tone soft and shy, and there was even a blush that trailed up from his neck, but he stayed staight and firm as he spoke.

“A valentine-themed task.” Mr Holmes enunciated as he pondered. “It’s a… decent idea. Any complaints?”

You felt some of your classmates’ eyes on you, and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you, remaining silent. As long as it wasn’t an exam, you’d accept whatever.

“With that settled, I’ll upload the task online this afternoon, but it’ll have to be written by hand. Be sure to hand in a picture of your assignment on time, or your final grade will be affected.” The teacher turned on his laptop, and started taking assistance.

[☆★🌷★☆]

Time had passed dreadfully slowly, until the bell rang and Mr Holmes dissmissed all of you so everyone could leave for the day.

“A valentine-themed task.” You huffed in annoyance as you stuffed your locker with books you weren’t going to take home.

“I thought it was original.” A voice snickered lowly behind you, and you slapped your locker close, smiling at him.

“Well, Henry. It’s no surprise your taste sucks.”

You chuckled when he rolled his eyes.

“I was waiting for your reply,” he mentioned with a soft tone.

You closed your locker, and you two started walking together. “Oh, sorry, I totally forgot,” you apologized with a smile, but he brushed it off. “Yeah, I was with Lucifer earlier. She’s making me work with Seungmin for this term’s assignments.”

Henry frowned. “And we hate that guy… right…” you chuckled.

“Exactly. We don’t like him.”

“So then, don’t do it. You were going to meet him to study, right?” You nodded, smirking slightly at him.

“We agreeded to meet on Friday to start, in the library.” You added, watching his smirk widen. “What are you thinking?”

He stopped walking, smiling at you. “There’s this club that opened recently. Been wanting to go have a look. Apparently, it’s like exclusive and shit. And it’s Friday.” His light-coloured eyes shined as he looked at you. “Meet me there?”

You grinned cheekily.

“Sure. Can’t wait.”

[☆★🌷★☆]

You hadn’t noticed Seungmin on the school bus until this year.

Because he had made himself noticeable, sitting at the back of the bus, a couple seats away from you, but oh, dorky Seungmin was always friend of everyone, sheepishly starting conversation with any kinds of people in the bus, no matter the year they were in.

Before his text, you had even thought he was cute as he gingerly chatted with a group of kids who were probably starting high school.

“Is it too difficult?” A little girl asked.

And it surprised you how he turned to her and smiled, almost tugging at your heart strings, eyes like crescent moons.

“It’s only difficult if you stop trying. And we don’t give up, right?” He stated cheerfuly, and all the kids shined at his sheepish and bashful brightness, high-fiving the girl that talked to him.

You forced yourself to shove those memories to the back of your mind. That Seungmin wasn’t real. And you didn’t like him. The real him. Right?

“Oi, Kim Seungmin.” You called, as it was only you two left on the bus.

He was surprised at your call, but only side-eyed at you, lazily raising his brows, signalling that he was listening. You frowned.

See? You thought to yourself. He’s mean. He isn’t sweet, nor cute. Focus.

“What kind of lame ass idea was that?” You huffed with a mean smile. “A valentine-themed assignment.” You snorted.

His bus stop was close, so he ignored you as he picked up his coat and backpack, but you kept on talking. “You know? Hallmark office called, they want their boring clichés back,” you mocked, laughing.

Backpack on and coat hanging on his arm, he stared at you, and waited for a red light to walk to your seat.

He settled next to you, still staring at you as you chimed mean remarks about his originality and such and such.

“Anything else to mumble? I couldn’t hear you from down there.” He snorted meanly, and you were too focused on annoying him that you didn’t notice his stare at your lips as he licked his own.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a lame guy. He gave you the chance to choose, and you chose that piece of—?!”

His lips tasted as sweet as his voice that day with those little kids.

You felt his hand slowly creep up and cradle your face, his eyes closed as he kissed you, and slowly, your eyes closed too.

It was sweet. So sweet. But what was it? It was a flavour that you knew. Its sweetness was so familiar, but you couldn’t seem to figure out what was it.

You kissed him back, and he let out a surprised whine as you sighed, your hands, which had been frozen on his shoulders, waiting for your order to push him away, slowly followed up and remained on his face, your thumbs almost stroking his cheeks.

You wanted needed to know what he tasted like.

But it was when your hands went into his hair that he sighed too, melting under your touch, that your brain clicked.

…

what were you doing?

…

WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!

You pushed him away, and your breath hitched.

He didn’t look like fake Seungmin.

In front of you was not the innocent boy who had straight A’s and was shy enough to not be able to say no to a lot of things, who sheepishly spoke up in class, or who treated everyone with a bashful kindness that was so endearing.

This Seungmin was different. His glasses had a bit of a fog in them, his hair was all messed up, and his lips were plush, pink from your tinted gloss and slightly swollen from your kiss.

This Seungmin was a wreck, all flustered and kissable, and he looked like a mess.

But it felt real.

And for a second, you wanted to kiss him again, yearning to figure what that kiss tasted like, the word for it almost in the tip of your tongue.

He panted, struggling to catch his breath.

“Finally,” he huffed with a smile, but his dark eyes didn’t match the mocking in his tone. A small part of your mind thought that they looked prettier than any light eyes you had ever seen. “So you were able to shut up, after all.” He gulped, still panting.

He moved away from you slowly, as you remained there, frozen, like a piece of art in front of him, cheeks blushed, lips flushed and parted as your eyes stared at him, an emotion much different from this evening.

He found himself enjoying this one even more.

“Eh… T-this is my bus stop.” He muttered when the bus stopped. Maybe it wasn’t, but he didn’t care. He felt like he would have the energy to run home if needed. “I-I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

You blinked as he stood up and walked away.

What…

What had just happened?

[☆★🌷★☆]

[freckledjoes]

So just watched the last episode of Fargo and I am so sad for gator 😭 and Roy is a piece of shit for leaving him there. God I hate him so much. Also this is the season for women and I am loving it!!

Oh anon I went so off track here but I hadn't put my thoughts down about this all completely just yet so... bear with me? 😭 Just know that I agree with you if it's too long lmao. It was very sad to watch indeed. They set up his character to be one easy to dislike/hate and it's been interesting to watch how the strongest haters went from "How can you like Gator, you can pick any character of his to find hot why do you pick him." to "Fuck Gator but hello to Joe saying daddy." As if that's not the most performative fucking thing I've ever heard. Make up your mind or something. I think Gator has said shit that should make your blood boil, but the charm of characters like these is that they can also show that it's not all there's to them. Does that excuse their actions? No. But are they completely doomed and irredeemable? Also no, if you ask me. I find it kind of off-putting how people are so happy to see him get hurt. Like, if you really dwell on that for a bit. Roy is a scumbag and has done and continues to do terrible things, has some twisted belief that he has the right to do them. Gator grew up watching that man treat the women in his life horribly and has probably received abuse himself as well. Every safe haven he might have had, left him. His mom first, then Dot. The only 'reliable', 'stable' person was his dad. The only ways he got to see were his. He lacked a person in his life who could show him differently. When you look at the show, you wouldn't guess he's 27 due to his behavior. He's stuck at a point where he wants to be seen as worthy by the one person in his life that stuck around, as toxic as their relationship is. Throughout the show we see how he puts up this scumbag persona, but with the conversation between him and Dot you can quickly see how fragile he really is. He went out of his way to prove himself worthy by going after Munch, which, as stupid as it was, made a lot of sense from his perspective. And then, he fails, and he gets punished in a way that he, in my opinion, doesn't deserve. I don't think Munch would have treated him differently if he knew it was an accident either. He was doomed from the start being the son of Roy, who is really the one deserving of every punishment he's got coming to him. The fact that he literally just walked away from his blinded son, who is scared for good reason, who needs support now more than ever, is unsurprising but incredibly cruel. I think he may have a hand in (accidentally) killing Roy. Not by his own hands, but maybe simply by being 'in the way'. So yeah, long story short, I'm sad for him too and I despise Roy :) OFF TO THE POSITIVE: THE WOMEN. Love them all. Dot, Indira, Lorraine. Love them working together, it's about time. It's been so nice to watch them all stand up against men one way or another honestly <3

[maltmealo]

Chapter 1: Rhythm of the night

Was blood really that bad? Now that you were laying in the middle of your own blood, it wasn't so bad. Well yeah, it was warm, and sticky, and your bones hurt, but you weren't cold even though it was autumn. Where was the driver? Gone. Probably. No cameras no evidence. But whatever, it was getting colder and you could hear a voice calling for you.

Oh well, maybe in the next life.

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

The buzzing of luminescent lights was welcome in the library silence. god, I wish brought your phone, I’m so stupid. I don't know why I listened to your friends, they're stupid too, you think, biting your lip. The blue light from your computer burned into your retina, even closing your eyes felt like sandpaper. Big bold letters shone on the screen, "HOW LATIN HAS BRANCHED INTO 30 DIFFERENT LANGUAGES" the blinking black line standing proudly behind it. this felt like a big fuck you from the universe, the essay is due in two days and we have a draft title, great.

"You keep looking at the screen like that and the computer might start crying." you jumped, you almost forgot that Meryl was still here. "your bad, didn't mean to spook you. You've just been staring at that computer for so long, I thought you might have died."

"Meryl, I forgot you were here." you pause before you sigh, "This essay does not want to be written." you smack your computer screen in mock anger, it returns the favor by displaying your favorite words "LOW BATTERY, PLEASE CHARGE"

Deep laughing echoed through the empty library, Meryl shut your computer and opened your bag. Meryl, the older brother you never had, part-time librarian, full-time worrier. Before you knew it your chair had slid out from under the table and your bag was dropped in your lap.

"Sorry kid, but you'll have to go home, I've let you stay for far longer than you should of and you didn't even get any progress." you turned to look at the man, a scar ripped across his skin creating a dark ravine in it, he never told you how he got it, just said it was an accident. "You want me to check you out a book before you go?"

You nodded and stood up, picking up the books that lay scattered across the table. trailing after the man as lead weaved in between tables towards the front desk, you set the books down and braced yourself against the desk. The sharp knives of stress already digging into your head, you grit your teeth and slowly lower yourself until your forehead is touching the cool wood. You hear 4 quick beeps, the sign that Meryl has checked out the books. A new sound, the rattling of pills in a bottle being set down by me. You look up and glance over at Meryl.

"Are you allowed to bring that to work with you?" you ask, picking up the bottle of aspirin. He shrugged and pulled out a bottle of water, sliding it over to me.

"Probably not, but also, you look like hell," he said, giving you a once-over. "Plus, you shouldn't be driving home when you're so distracted that you can't even realize that I took your backpack." he lifted up the old dirty backpack and shook it with a smile. your lips drew into a thin line, setting down the bottle and pushing it away from yourself.

"I didn't drive here, I walked, and I don't need your help." you say more weakly than you intended, inwardly cringing at how tired you sound, taking his bag from his hands and swinging over your back, "Plus, walking is more healthy for me and the environment."

This time his lips formed a line, then a frown. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling out his car keys. "then ill drive you home, you know drunk frat boys are going to be coming home around now."

"No you won't, I can take care of myself," you hissed, biting your tongue when you saw his expression, "My dorm isn't even that far away."

A hurt look came across his face, he looked away and sighed, "At least wait for me to close up. It's 3 am, and I don't want you walking home alone."

You shake your head and walked towards the doors, "Sorry Meri, I'm a grown adult, and I can take care of myself."

"Don't get hit by a car!" he shouted as you waved and walked out, the crisp cold air hitting you. you shuddered and inwardly cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket, you rubbed your hands over your shoulders and began the process of walking home. The yellow lights that guarded the streets flickered, weird. You felt a chill run up your spine, and bile rising in your throat, someone was watching you. You almost gag trying to force it back down your throat, you speed up.

"Just paranoia, the paranoia of being stalked at three am," you whisper to yourself, your mind racing with the thoughts of someone trailing behind you, holding out a knife, ready to strike, footsteps speeding up. your breath stopped, the footsteps were real, so real in fact you could feel the vibrations in the ground as they got closer. Without a second thought, you ran, ignoring the street you were supposed to turn onto. you don't want that creep to know where you live, the street lamps flickered again, this time turning completely off. This should be annoying if you weren’t being chased by a potential serial killer. Acid rose into the back of your throat as you felt the sidewalk dip, you were in the street now. The footsteps stopped, and you kept running.

Laughing, that bastard was laughing at you. Anger and fear kept you going until you tripped trying to get back on the sidewalk. The lights flicked back on, showing the now bloody pavement your hands were on. you whipped your head back, and there he was, standing right above you. How'd he get to you so fast? you screamed as loud as you could, kicking his knees out and getting on your feet, only to be dragged back down by large hands on your ankles. your head hit the pavement hard, only increasing the stress migraine you already had. Adrenaline was probably the only reason you could stay awake. Kicking and screaming you were dragged to your feet and brought back into the street, being held by your wrists. you could see the bastard now, another scream rose in your throat, a blonde man in his 30s, covered in scratches and blood. But his eye... his eye was bright fucking red, like some demon, emphasis on eye, he only had one eye, the other a black void.

"Get off me!" you screamed, he almost looked hurt. His hands wrapped around your wrists, forcing them together. you could feel your hands turning blue from how hard he was gripping them. You took a small breath before letting out the most blood-curdling scream you could muster. Fighting and kicking to get him off you, the blood from your hands making his grip somewhat slippery. Fear is what got us here, if you fight you can survive, repeating the mantra in your head. Without thinking you kicked his knees in, thank god for a random factopedia. A sickening crack echoed through the streets, he grunted and doubled over, he was still holding your wrist tight.

He laughed again, then he stood up. He fucking stood back up after you broke his knee. A smile replaced the blank look on his face, his face contorting into a macabre version of a skeletons smile. you screamed again trying to kick out his other knee, trying to do any trick to get someone's attention, you screamed fire, help, robbery, 'he's trying to kill me', nobody, nobody was coming to help me, why? This was a fucking residential street why was no one helping?

He dragged you both out into the middle of the street holding us there until the lights flickered back off. His eye was fucking glowing, your panicked babble and screams for help quickly cut off as you felt him being pulled away from you, The lights came back on. Meryl. Oh your fucking god it was Meryl beating the shit out of the red-eyed man. you could only watch as he dragged the red-eyed man to the edge of the street and started pummeling him. you could barely make out anything he was saying over the ringing in your ears and the blaring horn of a truck, wait what?

You barely had time to turn and see the giant semi-truck come barling down the street, when you turned back to Meryl he and the red-eyed man were staring at you. The unknown man seemed angry and Meryl looked scared, he reached out to you as you tried to jump out of the way.

Screeching tires did nothing to stop the impact, cracking bones and the blood rushing to your head were all you could hear. the hard pavement came next, and you were surprised you weren’t run over, the truck seemed to just push you to the side. you can't breathe, your own blood is drowning you. desperate gasps turned to pathetic gurgles. you could feel the warm blood starting a puddle around your body, the cold air only making the pain so much worse. you could hear Meryl shouting, you couldn't understand what he was shouting, footsteps were getting closer, maybe it was Meryl, No, it wasn't, it was the man, leering down at me. He looked sad, he reached down at you, you screamed as best you could pain shooting up your stomach and into your throat.

More pathetic gurgles and tears rose in your eyes as your senses returned to you. Something was set down beside you, you couldn't move, your broken bones made that impossible but out of the corner of your eye, was the raggedy fabric of your bag. between pathetic whimpers of pain and the dark spots littering your vision, you didn't notice the man leave. you were alone, nobody was there, did Meryl leave too? No, he wouldn't leave you, that bastard must have done something to him. The pain was steadily fading to couple your vision. You started to think, the man who chased you, the truck, where was the truck?

Was blood really that bad? Now that you were laying in the middle of your own blood, it wasn't so bad. Well yeah, it was warm, and sticky, and your bones hurt, but you weren't cold even though it was autumn. Where was the driver? Gone. Probably. No cameras no evidence. But whatever, it was getting colder and you could hear a voice calling for you.

Oh well, maybe in the next life.