#i couldn't write properly for like a year and a half or two

[parfaitblogs]

you're losing me ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he's an entirely different person after prison, and your relationship is crumbling. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. no happy ending.��argument/fight. strong language. word count: 2.0k a/n: big fan of soul crushing angst. clearly. i dreamt this one up in an everything shower. likely place for me to plan fics? whole lot of nothing happening i love yapping about sadness!! my least favourite spencer trait is that he doesn't think he deserves good things so he pushes them away so obviously i have to write novellas on him doing just that? this used to be based on tolerate it but i listened to ylm the entire time so erm. things change! lol enjoy xoxo

Perhaps you were stupid. 

Very, very stupid. And ridiculous. And every other synonym for those two words that your brain could not possibly imagine up right now. You were all of them. But also none of them. Because you also felt like there was not a single word that could describe you anymore; if there was, maybe you'd consider yourself a person. But clearly you weren't a person. Not anymore, at least. Not to him. 

An awfully painful year it had been. And maybe that's what stripped you of your right to be a person. Maybe it was the overtime. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was everything all at once. Maybe it was nothing at all. 

Three years of dating one man meant you learned quite a bit about who he is as a person to you. Eight years of knowing him meant you knew very well what sort of person he is in general. 

And this wasn't him. 

He was sitting on your couch. A piece of furniture that had, in just one year, erased the memory of you from it, there no longer being an indent on the right side where you always sat. A book was sat in his lap, but he wasn't properly reading it. You could tell from how slowly he turned the pages. From how he stopped every few minutes to rub his eyes, his eyebrows creasing and a quiet, irritated huff leaving his lips. 

It was a habit he had developed. 

This was how it was every night. Three o'clock came, and your body would wake you up from an otherwise restless sleep, and you would drag your feet out to where the man who should be occupying the other side of your bed, actually is. And he wouldn't look up, but you both acknowledged each other's presence, silently. 

And you would watch him for an hour. Until your eyes began to droop, and your feet started to ache, and your heart couldn't handle any more shattering for the night. And then you would drag yourself back to the bedroom, and you would climb into a now cold bed, and you would fall back asleep for another two hours. 

Like clockwork.

You were good with him. So patient. You would make him mugs of morning coffee that he wouldn't drink, and you would wash clothes he wouldn't say 'thank you' for. You wondered if he was actually grateful or not. 

You were too scared to ask. 

"Hey," you said, quietly, when he had come home from work, shrugging his bag off his shoulders, and slipping shoes off his feet. 

"Hi," he answered. As if on instinct, he moved to where you were seated at the barstool to kiss you in greeting, before brushing past and heading into the kitchen. 

You watched him for a few moments as he found a piece of bread to eat, nothing on it. Just... dry. Before your eyes returned to the laptop screen you had open in front of you, fingers tapping away at your keyboard. 

"There's been another terror threat," you said to him, tilting your head to the side. "But they let me work from home."

"Why'd they do that?" he asked, but he could not sound less interested. 

You lifted your head, because you thought he knew. "Because of you, Spence."

"Oh, okay," he answered, and you watched as he threw out half of the bread he did not eat, before he disappeared down the hallway. 

He didn't even care. 

You stared at the empty space down the hall, where he had once been, heart lodged in your throat in an uncomfortable lump you couldn't swallow. This was why you felt stupid. 

Maybe you were sick of feeling stupid. You must be, because subconsciously, your feet had already planted themselves firmly on the floor, and your legs were already taking you down the hall in the exact direction he had just disappeared to. 

He was taking his button up off when you appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, replacing it with a t-shirt. You had never seen him wear so many t-shirts until now. 

You cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence, and he turned, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw you. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you said, voice wavering with cautiousness. 

His lips parted, then they closed, and all he managed was a short nod, before he turned back around to find pyjama pants in his drawers. 

"Spencer, I'm serious," you pressed, taking a step into the room. "You need to talk to someone about this."

"I have those counseling sessions at work," he answered, turning back around to face you only once he was wearing pants. 

Your lips pursed. "You hate those."

"Yes, but I'm talking to someone."

"Not someone you trust!"

"And if I talk to you, it would be so different compared to a counsellor, right?"

You froze. He froze. Maybe he realised the implication of his words, you certainly did. That such a simple spoken sentence had your heart stuttering in your chest. 

You shakily exhaled. "I'd hope it would be different," you decided to say. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't anymore."

He stood straighter at your comment. Perhaps not the best thing to say. Certainly not the most mature. 

"What does that mean?"

Right. The reason you decided to follow him in the first place. "I just—I don't feel like you care anymore. And I have tried to be patient, Spencer. I really have. But you shut me out, and we don't even talk anymore. I make you coffee, I do your laundry, I offer to cook, I clean up the house, I do everything I possibly can so you can focus on healing, and I can't even get a proper sentence out of you unless we're arguing."

He inhaled sharply, staring at you. "I don't know if you forgot, but I was locked in a prison for three and a half months."

Your shoulders deflated, your eyebrows creasing and lips pulling down into a frown. "Seriously? I express that I am feeling neglected, and your only response is that you've been in prison—"

"—Well, it kind of changed who I am!"

You fell silent for a few moments, trying to collect your thoughts before you threw them all in his face and actually ruined things between you two. 

"I just feel like you don't care anymore," you repeated, voice awfully soft compared to how hard your body was shaking in anxiety. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and he opened his mouth to speak with that same frustrated frown, so you cut him off. 

"And yes, I know you're dealing with everything that happened to you in prison. I only know what they told us, so I can't even imagine how much you're withholding. Because I know that's what you do. But that doesn't give you an excuse to treat me like I'm not important in your life anymore. I mean, If I'm not, then tell me. If you really don't care, or you've decided that you can't be in a relationship and process everything at the same time, then I'd like to know."

The silence is uncomfortable. And thick. And you're staring at him with eyes that burned with tears you weren't ready to shed yet. He's coming up with a response, so slowly you think maybe prison actually did break his brain. 

"I do care," he finally said, and you wondered if it took him three minutes to come up with that because he was controlling a lie. You pushed that thought out of your head. "But I also don't want you to wait for me to be better, if it's making you feel this way."

Oh.

"Okay," you manage to say, voice not above a whisper as you stared at him. 

"Okay," he echoed, and the tears you were trying so hard to keep in brimmed your waterline, blurring your vision. If he hadn't become one big blob in your vision because of them, you might've seen his eyes soften and his shoulders deflate. 

Maybe he was waiting for you to confront him about it all. So he could end things. Maybe he's been thinking about this for too long, and this was just the final push he needed. You'd like to hope it was a spur of the moment decision, and he wasn't banking on this relationship ending. 

"I'll stay at a friend's," you then murmured, wiping the tears from your eyes, sniffling pathetically. 

"No, this is—"

"—You deserve familiar walls," you cut him off. "I'm sure anything else would freak you out."

He fell silent, because you were right. But he didn't want to kick you out of your own home. He didn't want to kick you out of his life, a sickening revelation he was having all too late.

Maybe that was why, when you turned around to leave, he called your name. Pleadingly. So, you turned back, and he stared at you, and silence fell over you two again. 

"What?" you breathed out after a few too many minutes of quiet. 

"I don't know how to talk to you. Or anyone. Not—not just you."

"About what happened?"

"In general."

You stilled, confusion sweeping across your features, for the thousandth time tonight alone. "You don't have to talk to me, if you can't. Regularly, I mean. That's not... that's not what I'm asking of you. I just need you to communicate with me. I feel like you don't even have feelings for me anymore. That's where most of my issues lie."

"I do have feelings for you."

"It doesn't feel that way."

More silence. More thick, deafening silence that felt like you had submerged your head underwater. And you really just wanted to come to a final conclusion. If this was the end.

"Then is it just that you don't want to be with me anymore? If it is, please tell me," you said, voice pathetically desperate.

He stared at you some more. Silence accompanying him, like some (annoyingly) comforting best friend amidst this conversation. And you slowly nodded your head as what he wanted became clear to you, your heart stuttering uncomfortably in your chest. Your stomach flipping. 

"Indecision doesn't look good on you," you finally cut through the blanket of quiet. "I need a verbal answer, Spencer."

"I do want to be with you—"

"—Then fight, dammit!" you finally snapped, the tears you had managed to control coming back to you, a sob lodging in your throat. "I am sick of you saying you do feel this, and you don't feel that. Make a fucking decision. Please. I cannot keep up a fight for the both of us anymore. You're losing me here, Spencer."

"I'm scared!" he shouted, and you took a step back, his voice vibrating throughout the room. He waged an internal battle for a few moments at your recoil. "That. That right there is what I'm scared of. I am so scared of scaring you."

"You scare me more when you shut down. I will take your anger over your silence."

"I won't," he snapped, watching you flinch. Again. You wanted to stop flinching. 

"It proves to me that you're actually feeling things. Spencer, I feel like I've been living with a ghost."

"I can't control my anger anymore," he added your name with a voice crack, mirroring your heart.

You blink some more tears down your cheeks. "You don't have to. You are allowed to be angry."

"Not around you," he shook his head, his hands brushing curls out of his face. "What if I—I hurt you."

"What if you don't?"

It seemed he hadn't considered that possibility, because he fell silent, and averted his gaze to the ground. He shook his head after a beat. "I can't take that risk."

You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing up your options, before you sighed. "Fine. Don't." He said your name again. "No. If you're not willing to fight, then... then fine. Don't fight. But neither will I."

He didn't say anything as you took a step back from the room. And even as you stilled for a few seconds longer, achingly but silently begging him to ask you to stay, he didn't utter a word. Which was, really, all you needed in confirmation. 

And so you left.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[reallyromealone]

Bakugo x kirishima omegaverse adoption. Request is meeting bakugos parents or just his dad per se. like his dad really wants to meet his grandbaby and he doesn’t care about what his wife says because he’s going to meet his grandbaby wether she likes it or not.

Title: see you again

Fandom: bnha

Characters: bakugo, masaru, mitsuki, kirishima, Aizawa mentioned

Fic type: angst, fluff

Pairings: bakugo x Kirishima, masaru x mitsuki

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, child male reader, Omega male reader, alpha x alpha relationship, dad kiribaku

Notes: writing this before my shift

Summary: katsukis dad gets to meet the baby, mitsuki has an epiphany

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bakugo read the letter his dad sent, the Omega was absolutely thrilled with the pictures of the baby that Aizawa sent him, Aizawa knew how hard it was to get out of a marriage as an Omega and kept the man up to date via coffee meet ups.

And today, Mr. Bakugo was going to meet his grandson.

"I can't face him." Mitsuki whispered, the Alpha looking away from her Omega "well I am, I'm tired of you're tantrums! You made me lose out on my pups most important years! I had to miss his graduation!"

Masaru looked so broken "I let you walk over me... I love you but you need therapy... I-I can't do this"

"I-im sorry" it was rare to see the blond so meek "think about the fact, you missed your son's wedding, his son and his life because you were set in his ways" his words trembling "I know you love our son... Talk to him"

And with that the Omega left the house.

Katsuki felt his heart feel a bit warmer when he saw his dam, (name) sitting in kirishimas knee and playing with his fingers happily and suckling on his pacifier that looked like a little explosion "dad..." Katsuki stood up to properly greet his dam, having not seen him in a year and a half, only exchanging letters through Aizawa. "There's my precious little boy and my other precious boy... And whose this" immediately the soft man doted on the two before his eyes landed on (name) who leaned against his dad, staring at the Omega confused. Masaru got closer to the pup and crouched "hi... I'm your grandpa" he whispered and (name) reached out to him, the little baby having no loyalty when it comes to attention and the older Omega smelt like his papa so therefore safe in the little ones eyes.

"Gosh, he's so perfect" he whispered while holding the angel of a baby close "poepoepoe" the boy babbled, having taken his pacifier out of his mouth.

Katsuki felt pure happiness bubble in his chest, seeing his dad show the love he showed Katsuki when he was little "you are so brave!" The Brunet whispered to the baby, enamoured by the pure joy the little omega gave back at the attention and tickles his grandpa gave.

"So how's things dad..." Katsuki was surprisingly soft with his dad, knowing the omega was always the nervous type "it's better... Your mother and I actually spoken before I left today"

"Oh?"

"And I won"

The table grew quiet and Kirishima was the first to speak "I'm proud of you!"

X

She couldn't believe it.

Her mate.

Her omega.

Her life...

He just lost it on her, she really fucked this up, huh?

She sat alone in the sitting area for hours, tears rolling down her face.

She had a grand baby...

She remembered how happy she was when she held little Katsuki...

She didn't want to ever say goodbye to that memory.

She couldn't dare possibly say goodbye to the music in her life, the music being the love of her family.

She needed to get it together.

Looking around the house, a nice house with beautiful decorations...

She would give it all up if she could take what she said back.

But she knew it wouldn't be easy.

X

"Her pride-- it was always something that got in the way, I know she regrets what she did... God knows when she will admit her faults" masaru said calmly and handed (name) back to Katsuki when the boy reached over to the blond for cuddle time "i-I don't think I could forgive her for what she did" Katsuki said honestly, time did his temper well.

And after having a son, a wonderful beautiful baby boy.

He couldn't imagine doing something like that to his baby.

What parent could do that?

The rest of the lunch went smoothly, Masaru doting on his son and son and law while (name) slept in his stroller without a care.

It was late, Eijiro sleeping beside him and (name) was asleep in his crib across the hall and thoughts of the meeting pushed around katsukis brain.

His mom abandoned him.

Come morning, the two alphas did their morning stretches in the livingroom, (name) clumsily following along much to the parents amusement and delight "good form!" Eijiro cheered to the boys delight.

Katsuki focused on his son, his world.

His mom could wait.

Just like he waited for her.

[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ rafe hadn't paid much attention to sarah's best friend, not until she was alone in their home, wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini.

warnings — 18+. MDNI. reader is 18 & rafe is 19 (not explicitely mentioned). angst and sexual content (not entirely smut), and finger sucking.

cherie's note — this idea's been stuck in my brain for weeks, i had to write it! one of my favs to write. <3

you practically lived at the cameron residence — spending more time with your best friend's family than your own. not like they cared much, going days before they'd even send you a text message to check in. but it was different here, ward had always treated you like second family, and rose was so inviting despite the fact you were merely sarah's best friend. you'd been friends with her for almost two years, growing closer to the blonde haired girl each day. you enjoyed it — spending your days on the cameron yacht, tanning on the pool chairs in the backyard. that wasn't the only reason you had stuck around though, you'd grown a huge crush on rafe cameron — hard. any excuse to be around him was reason enough to stick around.

swinging your shiny bare legs over the lounge chair, you perch your sunglasses within your hair. "gonna get a drink, need anything?” you chirped at your best friend, skin exposed to the sun just as you'd been seconds ago. waving her half watered-down alcoholic beverage within her perfectly manicured hands, she shook her head.

the cool air-conditioning hit you right in the face as you slid open the door to the extravagant home. the large house was mostly quiet — the sound of ward cameron's voice echoing from somewhere within, presumably on an important business call. the pineapple juice you poured within your empty cup iced your fingertips at the touch.

opening the fridge to place the jug of yellowish-orange juice on the top shelf where you'd found it, the sound of shoes hitting the marble floor makes your gaze flicker to the entrance. rafe had walked into the kitchen, eyes practically glued to the curves on your body, hand carrying a black backpack. the churning within your stomach had turned into blissful butterflies in your belly, excited he'd finally made his appearance.

"hey," you speak, voice so soft it had hardly registered within his mind. one last look at the way your bikini accentuated the form of your body, rafe placed the bag on the chair of the kitchen table.

he hadn't spoken back immediately — not because he was ignoring you, but because he'd hardly spoken to you before. every time you'd come over, he was out of the house with topper and kelce, it was rare to see him here on a day like today, when the sun wasn't too warm, and the ocean breeze carried across the island. "you're here again?" he questioned, tone more snark that intended.

biting the inside of your cheek, you gulped down a mouth-full of pineapple juice in your mouth as you watched him over the rim. "that a bad thing?"

the tut of air that escapes his lips sends a shock to your groin, his nonchalant demeanor only serving to make you want him more. he dug within his bag, desperately trying to find something to distract from the way your chest was practically spilling out of your bikini top. you were sarah's best friend — he shoudn't have been looking that way to begin with, but it was far too late to cause a huff of mental turmoil over.

"shit's disgusting," he mutters, aggressively zipping the bag closed. he'd been referring to the pineapple juice, clearly not a fan of the taste. what was wrong with him?

it was your turn to huff air his direction, clearly taken aback by his suddenness. "don't be a baby, rafe. 's not that bad."

with a grimace, he turns towards you. he was only inches from you now, standing on the corner of the granite island as he watched you. god, he couldn't stop the way his eyes continue to flicker down your body whenever you looked away — selfishly memorizing the way you'd surely grown into your body since the last time he'd properly seen you.

sliding the cup towards him, he watched you. his piercing blue eyes studied the look of challenge laced within your pupils, his large hand wrapping around the bottom of the glass as he brought the juice to his lips.

and you were right — it wasn't that bad. the taste of alcohol burned his throat as he swallowed. helping to drown out the all too-sweet taste of the fruit mixture. he could hardly hold the cough bubbling within his throat at the taste, unexpecting the harsh sting of vodka that drowned his esophagus. "shit, that's strong."

with a shrug of your shoulders, you grabbed the cup back from him.

"ward's gonna realize someone's takin' his stash, y'know."

that was the least of your concerns — there was only so much punishment you could face from ward for digging into his and rose's alcohol collection, you weren't their daughter. if anything, sarah'd be the one to take the blame, her punishment not much harsher than yours'd be, considering she was the favorite child.

"you offering to get me my own?" you replied, coy smile plastered across your face.

rafe's tongue pokes at the side of his cheek, that stupid smirk plastered on his face at the comment. you knew what you were doing, he'd give you that. you weren't stupid — not like the other kook girls sarah'd bring home.

"you gonna do something for me if i do?" he asks, blue eyes staring into yours at the question. his hands were shoved within his pockets as he watched you under hooded eyes, liking the way the conversation had started between the two of you.

you shrug your shoulders again, elbows resting against the cold surface of the kitchen counter, "depends what you have in mind."

oh, he knew he was in trouble now. the way you'd so 'innocently' smooshed your plush chest against the counter top in front of him — tempting him. the way the soft lighting from the kitchen ceiling shined against the exposed globes of your ass was enough for him to feel that familiar strain against his zipper.

"could think of a few ways," he purred, taking a few confident steps towards you — that same smile still stained across his face. he'd twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, the soft locks tickling against his fingertips.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling it, that feeling you knew all too well as the inside of your thighs became damp and warm. this exact situation had played within your head over and over for months, finding yourself toying with your own clit at the thought. it was definitely wrong — fantasies of fucking your best friend's older brother, but fuck, you couldn't help it. the way his cologne stuck to the inside of your nose had you fueled for weeks alone.

"does sarah know you're in here, acting like this, for her brother?" he murmurs, his voice condescending almost as he whispers against your hair. a small whimper escapes your plump lips at the comment, so ready to fall onto your knees if he would only ask. "acting like a slut? just so you'd be able to get some alcohol in your system?"

biting the inside of your lip, your eyes lock onto his. it was intoxicating, watching the way his focus was solely on you for the first time ever, something you'd craved since you first laid eyes on him. it was so risky, so easy for anybody in his family to walk into the kitchen, but it only fueled the ache of desperation between your thighs.

he chuckles softly at your silence, "too stupid to say anything back now, huh? what happened to that smart mouth, sweet girl?"

his rough hand held firmly onto your jaw, his fingertips so gentle against the skin of your face that you could feel yourself melting into the foreign feeling of your best friend's brother's touch on your skin.

the way his hands practically invited themselves onto the plush of your ass, roaming curiously across the curves of your body had your breath hitching within your throat. "i'll do anything, rafe. jus' want to get drunk."

you feverishly invite his thumb past your soft lips, suckling against the digit as your saliva coats his finger. the guttural groan that escapes his mouth only sends another shock towards your cunt, pussy eagerly throbbing around nothing at the sound alone. you'd dreamt of this exact moment for nearly a year.

"fuck, that desperate, huh?" his tone is mocking, condescending in a way, but it only figured to fuel your eagerness, brain so fucked and fuzzy that it was hardly a concern the way he spoke to you.

the way your lips wrapped snugly around his thumb echoed the feeling of a blowjob, edging him to the point of his cock eagerly pressing against his khaki shorts, desperate for release against the tight material. his lips found the side of your jaw, pressing rough kisses along the soft skin of your neck until you had become a whimpering mess under his touch.

pulling away with a cruel chuckle, you pouted at the loss of contact. he was so mean, bathing suit bottoms drenched in your own arousal at the mere interaction shared between you two. it was cute, he'd admit it, the way your bottom lip stuck out in frustration at the sexual snap.

"yeah, i'll get y'some booze, sweetheart."

and then once again, it was only you in the kitchen — glass of pineapple half-empty waiting patiently for you to grasp onto it again. it felt unreal, almost, wondering if it had all truly happened, snapped out of your trance at the sound of the front door slamming shut behind him.

you slid the patio door open again, cold air-conditioning escaping from the house as you moved out onto the concrete to join your best friend once more.

"what took you so long?" sarah questions, sun shades sitting against her hairline.

you couldn't tell her the truth, of course not. as far as she was concerned, you'd thought of rafe the same way she had — annoying, and egotistical. but boy, was she wrong.

[yanderes-galore]

I gots more, can you do Yuji (and/or Gojo) with a darling from the real world? Or like he’s self aware?

My favorite way to write self-aware show characters is to write an entity that acts just like them. Similar to an Analog Horror I've seen (Forgot the name but if you want it, I can hunt it down) So for this, that's kinda the plot I'm working with if that's okay. So like... a Creepypasta-like thing if that's fine.

So, the plot is similar to something I've done in the past for both: You buy a DVD of JJK... but something isn't quite right as you soon learn. No plot spoilers here for JJK. Purely an AU.

Feedback is appreciated as long as it's constructive! I could probably do this with other characters if I was given ideas. Both ideas start the same but begin to differ later.

Yandere Self-Aware! Yuji Itadori + Satoru Gojo

(Analog AU - An Experimental Name?)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, "Self-Aware" yandere, Analog AU (?), Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Unrequited feelings, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his resolve and ability to find happiness despite his situation that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought off online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Yuji Itadori, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Yuji Itadori" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Yuji originally believed everything was real.

This was his life... until he felt your presence.

At first he's in denial, not liking the idea of being trapped somewhere.

But then he sees you.

You are someone he can't reach, someone beyond a screen he can only look at.

While you watch the events of JJK play out on your little DVD, Yuji watches you.

It's a bit ironic, until he grows strong enough and more aware, the show character watches you just as invested as you are.

Yuji can't help but fall into a delusional sense of love and care for you.

He can't help but be excited whenever he catches glimpses of you.

His obsession is vague, as he is just now learning about his love for you.

He feels he wants to protect you, yet expresses frustration when he can only watch you from a clear barrier.

You can pick up on his self-aware behavior, things like glances, waves, and times where he says your name when other characters aren't looking.

The change is slow for him, but quick for you.

His feelings and growth continues through the episodes, the time feeling like months or years for him but hours for you.

Half way through the show you notice Yuji's behavior.

You're frightened at first, but maybe a morbid curiosity fills you?

This begins with you two properly communicating.

Certain plot points are paused or lengthened all so Yuji can speak with you.

It's so strange... like you're actually speaking to a human being.

Yuji is always very affectionate when speaking with you.

Often calling you nicknames, asking questions, and providing comfort after long days.

You see him as your little digital companion, while Yuji sees you as a lot more than that.

He's the only one aware of you, the other characters seem more like puppets to Yuji so he can play a story for you.

He likes seeing you happy and does whatever he can to make you smile.

Darker behavior manifests later as Yuji begins to realize he... isn't a big part of your life.

Through the screen he can see you have friends, family, everything.

You're the biggest part of his world, but he's the smallest part of yours.

As this DVD has supernatural capabilities (clearly), perhaps Yuji would pull you into his world once he fears he can lose you.

The next time you get to watch JJK, Yuji greets you.

"Hey! I've been preparing a surprise for you..."

Curious, you go to ask what it is...

Only to pass out.

By the time you wake up, you're not in your world anymore.

You wake up in a dorm, clearly not your room.

As you wake up, you jump back when you see Yuji kneeling beside you.

"Great! It did work!" He chirps happily, eyes closed with a smile on his face.

You go to ask what happened, only for Yuji to hold your hands.

"I brought you to my world! You mean a lot to me... plus, here I can shape this world to anything you want."

Yuji pulls you closer, closer to the point you can see a red glint in his eyes.

"I love you... and I just want to make you happy." Yuji vows, the confession innocent despite the situation.

"We'll make this our own little world."

"I want to go home!" You cry, confusing Yuji.

"Why would you ever want to leave...?"

Yuji asks, pulling you close.

"You'll be so happy here..." Yuji murmurs, eyes giving off a dull red glow.

"You won't ever want to leave... you won't ever leave me again."

From that point on, you live in an artificial world.

You and Yuji are the only ones "real" here.

Now he's the most important thing in your life, just like you are to him.

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his playful/cocky attitude and perhaps even his looks that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Satoru Gojo, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Satoru Gojo" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Due to how Gojo is, he'll probably learn that his world isn't real faster than Yuji.

He'll learn that things aren't as they seem, that those around him are merely puppets for him to use.

At first he's a bit hurt... yet now he's curious.

He only gets more intrigued when he learns of your presence.

While you watch him through the screen, he watches you.

You always look so happy when he plays his part on screen, playing his role through the events of his world.

Gojo still plays along, even as he grows increasingly obsessive about you.

He just knows you two are different.

It only annoys him when he's kept from you by a clear barrier, looking at you through your TV or monitor as you watch him.

He's strong... but not strong enough to have you, it seems.

To him, it feels like his obsession has gone on for years.

For you? It feels like hours.

You're just happy to watch one of your favorite shows...

Completely unaware of your favorite character fantasizing about finally meeting you.

That is until Gojo decides enough is enough... and makes his presence known.

"Oi! Can you hear me?"

He makes contact with you by pausing events in the story and waving to the screen.

Maybe similar to the Yuji portion you're overcome with morbid curiosity more than fear.

Which leads to you feeding into Gojo's obsession by speaking with him.

Due to having his world under his control, Gojo's capable of pausing or slowing down events in the story to speak with you.

He alters things to entertain you and often speaks to you.

You end up spending more time speaking to him than watching the show normally.

You learn that Gojo is very playful with you.

He often waves, makes heart shapes with his hands, and winks at you.

He likes to say your name to mess with you and does his best to press himself closer to the screen so you can touch it.

It disturbs you that the screen is often... warm when he touches it.

Gojo's usually always playful with you until he begins to realize the truth.

He loves you, more than anything he loves you.

His little world would feel lonely without you.

His whole purpose is to entertain you, to make a good story for you and keep you company.

He lives for you.

Yet he notices you have others around you...

You have friends, family, perhaps even a lover.

He's only a little part of your life... and it upsets him greatly.

Gojo tries to hide his hurt from you as he watches you chat with others.

He wants nothing more than to have you all to himself in this little world of his...

When he grows stronger... he can.

It's ironic for Gojo to need to be "stronger".

In his world, he's the strongest.

Yet he takes time to grow more in order to have you.

He won't have to worry about your lover or anyone afterwards.

"I have something to show you~!"

His voice is in a purr when you go to speak with him again.

"Here's my gift... you know I just want to make you happy..."

You begin to feel woozy, slumping over.

"You know I just want to make you mine."

By the time you wake up, you're in a room you don't recognize.

Only for Gojo to show up with a grin.

"Yo!" He chirps, ignoring the fear in your eyes. "I did pretty good, right? You're in my world now... but I can change anything I want to make it the best for you."

He's so giddy about having you beside him.

In here, he doesn't have to worry about those close to you.

He has everything under control... and you in his arms.

"What's with the look? Come on, where's my hug?" He pouts, pulling you against him even if you struggle.

"You'll get used to it..." Gojo whispers, a kiss placed on your forehead.

"I exist to please you..." Gojo whispers, kissing your cheek.

"This is our world now... I'll never let you leave me now that I've got you."

[preppyacademy]

From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now

Elliot's story

To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 

Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 

Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 

My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 

There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 

" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "

I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 

I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 

"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "

I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 

" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."

I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 

" Then we do have your agreement. "

My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.

I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 

"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "

I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...

This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 

When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 

I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.

I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 

"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "

These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 

"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "

The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 

" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 

I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 

[littlelambscandyland]

Hello! I've seen that your requests are open so if it's alright, is it okay if you write platonic yandere Tenth Doctor with a teen companion whom he just sees as his little one? And teen reader got so creeped out and tries to leave the TARDIS and him which in turn made the doctor forced to keep them in the TARDIS (kidnapping) with a special room already prepared for them Incase they tried to leave and it's basically a nursery where he would try to force the reader to age regress because in his words, reader is too young to make such assumptions and shouldn't be by herself.

Anyway thank you!

I'm literally living for this request rn. I really do think that the Tenth Doctor is a delusional yandere and I really love this concept and tying that in a little. I still feel new to writing for Doctor Who so I hope I characterized him properly. I hope you enjoy the story!

Surprise

^^Live reaction of when reader said she was going to leave^^

It's not that you didn't care for the Doctor, you just had to leave. It was all just too much. Every moment, every touch just felt wrong. Felt off. It was like he saw something that wasn't actually there when he looked at you. So you packed your bags, and you know he isn't happy about it, but you had to leave. Maybe you were overthinking, but you didn't think so. You thought this through, and things were weird.

Eventually, the little things just pile up. A few examples include...

Just the other day the Doctor insisted, in public, that you couldn't possibly understand how to feed yourself the food. Eventually you gave up fighting and were left with the alien hand feeding you in the middle of the foreign restaurant.

He's constantly explaining things to you like you were a toddler. Of course you thought he did that with all humans, but when he interacted with others, like Donna, he spoke to them like an adult. Yeah, you're a teen, but you're not a toddler, and you are definitely not stupid.

Another thing is, the Doctor insists on carrying you around places. He'll suddenly ask if you're tired then start carrying you around with his freaky alien strength.

You noticed he always pushes people away from you. Anytime someone tries to talk directly, unless it's one of the other companions, he stands between the two of you and dominates the conversation. It's quite isolating.

One time, during a particularly long adventure, he kept introducing you to people as his kid. Once again, he easily explained it was for the cover, but the way he acted and the way he said it felt deeper. The Doctor kept you by his side that entire trip; quite literally, as he held you on his hip half the time you were there.

Maybe it was just in his nature. You don't know anything about aliens, but you can't handle the oddities anymore. You need your life back without a lanky man, alien, dude trying to dote on you.

You didn't have too much to pack, most of your stuff was provided by the TARDIS. Of course, you wanted to take some more with you, but it just didn't feel right. You did pack some of the little trinkets the Doctor had gotten you over the past few months. Was it a few months or was it years? You haven't aged, so you're almost certain it's only been a few months, but then again, it feels like it's been a lot longer. You shake your mind clear and continue packing.

You throw your final outfit into your bag and zip it up. A sigh passes your lips as you sit on your bed. You feel terrible for leaving, you feel exhausted, you feel nervous, and you feel kinda liberated. You'll miss going on adventures, and you'll miss the Doctor. You just have to live your own life. You have to grow up, and it seems like he doesn't want you to do that.

A light knock startles you. Looking up you see the Doctor peeking his head inside nervously. You're glad he doesn't seem as upset as he was earlier when you told him you wanted to go home. You watch as he looks around your room. Seeing all the trinkets missing from your shelf and the suitcase on your bed he deflates a bit. Did he not realize you were serious? Watching the sad look in his eyes you assume he was more just hoping you weren't.

"All ready to go?" He holds an incredibly sad smile.

Guilt eats at your gut. "Yeah..."

The alien looks around one more time before clasping his hands with a forced enthusiastic smile. "Wonderful!" The Doctor looks at you for a second. "Well before you go I do have one last thing to show you."

You hesitate for a moment.

"C'moon one more mini adventure before you're off!" He smiles, almost devilishly. "We don't even have to leave the TARDIS."

"An inside adventure." You muse with a small smile. It wouldn't hurt. You couldn't lie, you were curious.

The Doctor holds his hand out to you with a bright smile. Slightly giddy, you grab his hand and let him lead you out of your room. Now that you think of it, that's another thing he enjoyed, he was always holding your hand. You both walk down the halls of the TARDIS in a silence that was much less awkward than earlier. The Doctor's mood already seems to have lifted from earlier.

After a few minutes you start to wonder more frequently where the two of you were walking. You always forget how big the TARDIS really is.

"What are showing me anyways?"

The Doctor smiles back at you. You always did look at him with stars in your eyes. "It's a surprise."

"Ugh, lame!" You jokingly complain.

Eventually you end up near a pretty familiar looking door. It was the Doctor's bedroom. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You've been in there once or twice before. Your most prominent memory was when you were sick and the alien insisted on having you stay with him instead of sleeping alone.

"Why are we here?" You question again.

"Still a surprise." He leans down with a slight playful whisper.

He opens the door, swinging it open with a playful "Allons-y" and a gesture to go in. You roll your eyes at him, but follow in anyways. Waiting for him to direct you, you take a second to look around. The room looks as nice as you remember. It was the stars randomly placed that really interested you. The different decorations take your attention for a few seconds.

"Little Star?" The Doctor calls to you.

You were waiting for him to finally call you one of his random nicknames again. Either way, you draw your attention back to him. He grins wider as he points at a door. A door you don't remember being there before, but then you've never really investigated the Doctors room before.

"Well... Open it." He says with a dramatic push.

You grin, he really thought you were gonna make it easy on him. "What if I don't want to?" You challenge.

The doctor quickly falls into a playful scowl. "Oh, you know you want to."

You giggle at the goofy face he makes.

"C'moon!"

You laugh again before opening the door. Once again, your face scrunches with confusion when you walk through the door. You're greeted with a very colorful, very pastel room. No, not just a room, it was very obviously a nursery. Some of the items seemed off size-wise, like the crib was much too big for a baby and the princess dresses hanging on the rack wouldn't fit a child.

You're a bit frozen in place as you try to figure out just exactly why the Doctor wanted to show you this. Frozen as you try to figure out what exactly this is. When you shake out of it, you turn to look at him. Creepily, he's just staring at you with a big smile.

Seeing your confused face he frowns just a bit. "Don't you like it?"

"It's a nursery right?" He nods. "Then, why would I like it?" You're almost angry with the situation and the confusion he's causing.

Really you're just scared to be proven right. Scared to be proven his actions were far from normal.

"Well it's yours!" His laugh borders hysterics. A nervous, excited noise. "I wasn't going to show you so soon, but you've come to that silly conclusion that you can just pop off on your own, and well I can't just let you run off like that."

"Doctor, you're scaring me."

Your facade of calmness fails you as both your voice and hands shake. What the hell is he going on about?

"Oh," He steps forward and you step back. "I know. Such a small thing," The Doctor shakes his head. "So naive and sweet. Of course you're scared. But! That is one of the reasons why this is good for you. You're so young and you make all these silly assumptions, you can't possibly take care of yourself."

"Doctor, I want to go home." You interrupt his rant.

"The TARDIS is your home!" He sounds close to anger when he shouts it.

You can feel your chest tightening. The alien looks a mixture of manic and lovesick. You've never seen him like this. You were terrified.

"I've taken very good care of you, but I can take even better care of you here. Isn't that nice? No more worrying, no more problems." The Doctor comes up to you too quickly for you to back away and wraps you in his arms. "You're so young, pet, you don't know what's good for you," He says, running fingers through your hair. "But I do."

"I want to go home."

His arms tighten around you. "No."

Tears fall in lumps down your face. You try to push the Doctor off of you but he doesn't budge. Instead, he lifts you off the ground and starts rocking in his arms.

"Please, let me go." You sob out.

"Oh, I know it's so much to handle for you right now, but I promise it'll be okay. Papa's got you."

[navillee]

HIII i really love your writing and i really want to request you this ^^ seeing your recent post about dawnbreaker zayne made me think that...i would love to see some dawnbreaker zayne and mc angst from you 🫣

Since English isn't my first language, I'm delighted to read that. Dawnbraker Zayne angst here we go!

I miss her. That was Zayne's conclusion as he walked by the empty streets, where no soul could be seem. How can he miss someone he has never met before? The old and almost destroyed Linkon tourist's guide kept on his hands as he wandered on a ghost city, by the time forgotten, hoping he could savor glimpses of someone who wasn't there anymore. To hunt memories, so he can repeat to himself that, at least, in another life, he was happy;

The dreams started when he was a way younger. He thought it was just his brain's way to cope with his burden, but when the same pattern repeated itself over and over again throughout the years, Zayne knew there couldn't exist such coincidence. So he became obsessed.

He searched on every data about his other self. How life was before, when the pre stage wanderers weren't such a treat to society as now. The hospital, the hunter's association, the establishments he used to visit, and most importantly of all: you;

He thought he wasn't envious of his doctor version at first. Dawnbraker was able to deal with the lack of family since he never had one or even friends and a healthy life structure in general. But you. Oh, you. The girl in the dreams with the bright personality and warm tone of voice. Dawnbraker felt envious for the first time when that voice called his name. He knew it wasn't his name, and it hurt;

He bought your favorite candies and put them at his half empty apartment. He even bought flowers in an illusionary attempt to bring you closer, in hopes you would show up. But you didn't exist in his world. It comforted him to do it, though. It was his ritual before he went to sleep. If he kept you alive in his mind during the day, you would grace him in his dreams;

It was so fucking unfair. The way he kept a diary of his dreams at the bed table besides his bed to engrave every detail of you was fucking unfair;

He even did portraits of you — the drawing ability he discovered his doctor version also had — because he got terrified, thinking that all of sudden the dreams could come to an permanently end, and he would never be able to see you again;

From that desperation came the avaricious felling of rights upon his other self. He wanted as much time with you as he could get. Dawnbraker's dreams had become his drug;

It was like day and night had switched positions. Dawnbraker Zayne was performing during the day, surviving every second of it. He started to kill the humans before they could turn into wanderers like they were just numbers. It wasn't real after all. No, it was just a bad nightmare that he would wake up from, in Linkon, embraced in your loving arms and sweet voice. He rejected his life, believing that was his right to possess Doctor Zayne's one;

He needed his fix. He needed desperately every night. When he didn't get it, he became reckless, killing to vent his anger, killing in revenge at the universe for giving him this miserable existence. He killed almost for joy;

When two weeks passed by without any dreams, he went a step further into his addiction. One pill. Just one to make dawnbraker Zayne sleep properly and get to his other self. He swallowed it, taking two sips of water. His head hurted, and his hands trambled. But it was functional. Dawnbraker fell into a deep slumber;

It worked amazingly. The pill helped to keep his staying with you more vivid. Even though he couldn't feel physically what Zayne felt, he could see your face clearly now. It wasn't a blury dream. You were so perfect, every detail, walking on the rain together, the sound of the droplets of rain hitting the umbrella mixing with your laugh. Zayne wanted to cry. Would you notice his tears in the rain? You both were soaked, you and him apparently stopped by the convenience store to buy an umbrella;

You were holding some shopping bags and a bouquet of flowers, the same flower he has bought back in his world. He felt glad you received them in this universe. Dawnbraker felt guilty. Has Doctor Zayne noticed the flowers on the counter while he stayed in his world?

After that wonderful dream, Dawnbreaker faced his fall. It started with one pill that turned into two in only a spare of weeks, then three. He killed half human beings, then he drugged himself to the life he could save those people. To where he has a perfect life, when he was looked to as a person, not a feared shadow living in the corner;

He remembered to left hints on his apartment to the other Zayne from that night on. Flowers, movie tickets from the movies released back then, some not too revealing notes... some revealing ones;

One day, he arrived at his apartment with an injury on his arm. He had seen so much blood that day, spilled so much blood. His blood and innocent's too. Dawnbraker felt an excruciating pain. He felt totally abandoned in the universe;

In order to forget the pain consuming him, he swallowed all the remaining pills left on the bottle. He didn't have much time, so he send a message to the only number he had registered on his phone since that little boy accident, and also placed one item on his bedside table as he always did, so his other self would capture what he wanted Zayne to do, and he slept;

Dawnbraker found himself in the corridor to your apartment, his heart pounding on his chest like he wanted desperately to live. He stumbled at the open door's frame, rushing into your living room, finding you there, safe and sound, his pretty girl, as always. Dawnbraker wanted to cry again, and this time, he let himself;

"Zayne? What happened? Is everything okay?" You came rushing to him, and this time, he couldn't hide the surprise. On this dream, he was able to feel your touch;

He crumbled on his own weight, falling on his knees in front of you, his eyes sparkly with crystal clear tears washing over his face, pupils stagnated on you. As you brushed his tears off, he placed both his hands on top of yours, nuzzling his face against your warmth, felling you for the first time;

"Hard day at work?" You asked, and he sobbed, hands trembling as he tried to stop the tears. So you hugged him. With any word needed, you just stayed with him, the man's big frame hidden in your neck crook, warm tears running down your skin as you keep a tender scratch on his hair's scalp;

"S'okay Zayne, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." She coped his face with both hands, touching both foreheads together, and kept caressing her thumbs on his face. "I love you. And there's nothing in this universe able to change that."

Doctor Zayne woke up at the infamous, almost empty apartment, almost screaming in pain. What had happened? Why was he there? His head was spinning, he was sweating, and as soon as he raised his head to check on himself, he was also bleeding. The bedsheets were soaked in blood;

Zayne tried to get out of bed to serch for medical supplies in order to staunch the bleeding. But he failed when he computed the actual condition of his counterparts arm: it wasn't human anymore;

Then, Doctor Zayne remembered the uncountable notes left to him by himself from that sick reality: "Wanderers. Infectious danger." Then he understood. It was his worst nightmare, the last one;

He made a colossal effort to try to get off bed. There's need to be a solution, a way out to save himself from that destiny. Then, he stumbled his hand on a little item left on the side bed table. He groaned in pain on the process to bring the object closer to his sight;

It was a little box. His last item was a set of rings. Engagement ones;

Dawnbraker Zayne opened his eyes, meeting your tender gaze, too flabbergasted to even speak. His body just leaned, seeking more of your warmth. You understood him and his cowardice, so you simply leaned the remaining amount of millimeters between both lips, kissing him again and again and again. "No need to worry. I'm gonna take care of you today, okay?" You said, making tears run down his eyes. "You...promise?" Dawnbraker asked, his throat aching for trying to hold his happy tears;

"Off course I promise! I'll always take care of you, Zayne." She smiled again. After a terrible life, Dawnbreaker felt loved. He pulled you for a last kiss. "Thank you. I'll always love you, no matter when or where. Remember that."

Blurred by tears, Dawnbreaker's vision faded away from that reality into nothing. But while he took the last look at you, all passionate and feelings love, he couldn't be envious anymore, because he was once, loved by his dream girl, he was at least once, truly happy. Dawnbreaker finally could fell peace;

Delirious by the pain, the last thing Doctor Zayne could hear was someone kicking the front door, presenting themselves as police. Before his bedroom door was broken entirely down, he placed the ring box near his chest, clenching his grip around it;

Doctor Zayne opened his eyes again to meet yours. The pain had vanished, and he returned to his world. As you kissed all over his face, he smiled, hugging you tightly as tears ran down his face. That was his last nightmare as Dawnbreaker, and Doctor Zayne would make sure to fulfill his last wish;

Just then, one day, Zayne would also give his last breath beside the woman he loved dearly.

E N D

[keelt9]

Paper 1

Masterlist

The first time Max saw her, she was sitting with her legs crossed in front of an old clockmaker's workshop writing in red paper as the snow kept falling slowly all over the small town. 

Max’s family had the tradition of going to Benasque, in Spain, every Christmas and New Year, keeping far away from the busy world of racing and enjoying some time with family.

“What are you doing?” Max approaches the girl who didn’t bother to lift her eyes from her paper as she writes like her lifes depends on it.

“Writing.” Max bluffs rolling his eyes, but he insisted.

“Kinda obvious, what are you writing?” He tilted his head trying to read whatever she’s writing. 

This time the girl with a red beanie lifted her face, rubbing her hands trying to get rid of the cold. “A Christmas wish.”

“For?” Max couldn't avoided, she had something that triggered his curiosity. 

“For?!” Like Max just asked the most terrorist question, the girl sits properly and points to the big Santa Claus in front of the clockmaker's workshop, next to a red mailbox. “Kind of obvious too.” 

“Really?” Max looked at her like he was observing the most outrageous person. “He’s n…”

The girl stood flooding his paper and got his pen on her big red cape. “Are you a Grinch or something like that?”

Max laughs purely following the girl who carefully walked waiting for the cars stopped to cross the street. “It’s an old clockmaker's workshop with an old mailbox, what makes you think that could even work?”

The girl opened the mailbox where, to his surprise, had a considerable amount of papers and letters, the girl looked at him with a self-sufficient smile.

“You’re kind of sourpuss for having what 6 year olds, maybe 7?” Max opened his mouth in total disbelief, who the hell was this girl.

“6 and half.” The girl nods, walking back to the bench unconsciously making space for him to sit.

Max sat next to her. “Now what?” 

The girl laid back her head with a smile but didn’t look at him. “Well, I like to sit here and watch, from time to time you find interesting people who actually believe in Christmas magic.”

“I don’t say I don’t believe, it’s just I have my reserves.” Max stretches his neck and relaxes his body. “Let’s see if you have the right.”

For 4 hours they waited outside as they were covered in white and their faces turned red, spoke about every little thing like they were friends of life, and one more time the mysterious girl confirmed her theory. They saw little kids walking along their parents, teenagers who observed side to side of the street fearing someone could catch them doing something wrong, adults that simply stood longer like if closing the mailbox means as prayer and old people that after came across the street and gave them a small candy or coins for they bought something nice for these holidays.

When the few sunlights started to disappear, the girl stood and waved her hand to the other side of the street. 

“Well, Mr. Grinch, it's been a pleasure, I have a lot of fun.” Max felt overwhelmed but happy. “Thanks for joining me.” 

The girl extended her hand which Max gladly accepted and shook. “Oh my God! You’re freezing, you forgot your gloves or something?”

Max didn't forget them, it’s part of his training, resist the cold temperatures, hoping in a few years all these things bring thousands of joys for him and his family.

His lack of response made the little girl narrow her eyes but let it pass. “Put it on the fire as soon as you get home.”

Max chuckled. “Thanks, little elf.” He pointed to his beanie and her red black boots. 

The girl laughs purely nodding her head. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Count me in.” Max walks away but he notices he doesn’t have a name. “What's your name?!” He screamed as the girl kept walking backwards.

“I’ll tell you later!” 

As the years passed, that’s how Max spent every last two weeks of December, before parting ways the 2nd of January, walking around the small town, eating candies and spending hours in front of an old clockmaker's workshop; loving the company of a little girl with a red beanie and black boots. 

Their name never comes and honestly they never needed it. 

The year Max finally joined Red Bull he could barely wait for Christmas holidays to begin, he had big news to share.

But Christmas wasn't nice all the time, that year knowing he could turn in the main driver of Red Bull, his father strictly denied him to move far away from Milton Keynes, he must be there.

Max obedient waited at least for the 23rd of December hopping his father could change his mind, still he hasn't, so in a last attempted he asked to his sister Victoria, that please, at least she went there before New Years Eve searched in front of the old clockmaker's workshop for a girl with a red beanie and black boots, and told her he would go next year.

“Max, how would I know I found the right girl?” Victoria asked as they said goodbye in the airport.

Max shook his head and hugged his sister. “Please, just tell her to wait a little bit.”

The pleading eyes of his brother was all Victoria needed to agree and looked at the Christmas girl.

Unfortunately she didn’t get her goal, her mother and her flight connection delay a couple of hours by the time they arrived to Benasque, it was the first hour of the 4rd of January, even when Victoria went to the old clockmaker's workshop the owner told her the girl came like every year and go, last night.

“A little defeated, she waited for his little friend.” The owner said taking the red mailbox of the entrance. 

Victoria left her number in case the girl came but the owner was cleared, like the snow, she and her family only came that three weeks every year.

The next year Max started to make his own powerful path, fearing he could miss an important moment, he started to write all the special moments in a red notebook, he didn't want to miss any little detail for sharing with his little elf. 

The next year with a victory between his hands, and the support of his mother Max went to Benasque,  just maybe his elf could be already there. 

Until the day before Christmas she didn’t appear in any of the places they used to go. 

The old man came outside of the clockmaker's workshop with a cup of hot chocolate and gave it to him. “It’s weird for me too.”

Max took a sip seeing the marshmallow floating. “She came like always?” 

The old man smiles and nods softly like he could picture the scene of last year, a teenager girl coming in the last hours of Christmas eve with a folded blue paper for leaving in the mailbox.

“She waited a little bit longer that night.” Max felt his heart squeeze. “She waited for a last minute Christmas miracle.”

Max saw the mailbox and took a piece of paper from his notebook, leaving the cup next to him. “Do you have a plan in mind, young boy?”

Max smiled, writing as fast as he could. “Helping the big guy with a miracle.”

Max didn’t notice but the old man has a proud smile and the certainty that this bound is for life. 

With a folded piece of paper Max crossed the street, opened the mailbox and put his wish and understood why the adults years ago closed the lid carefully, fearing that their wish would not come true.

His first championship came and the little elf didn’t, like every year he waited for hours every day as he kept writing in his second notebook, but she didn’t come, and every Christmas Eve he left his same wish on the mailbox.

When his third Championship came he walked the street covered in snow with a backpack, now with 4 notebooks in it. 

However this time, the old man reached him before he even got to see the bench. 

“She’s here!” The old man's face is bright beside the cold wind. 

Max opened his eyes ready to run but he was stopped. “Wait boy. I heard from the woman at the bookstore that she was already here but she hasn’t come…”

“Thanks.” Max didn’t let him finish; he grabbed his arm before running to the bookstore three blocks away.

The woman repeated the same words, she was there, bought a book and left, without saying another word.

Max's blood froze but he had to ask. “Did she look sick?”

“Oh no, she is beautiful and healthy as always, the red cape is switched for a navy blue coat but stunning as always.” The woman smiles remembering how the small girl turned into this beautiful woman. 

“Did she have a ri…” The woman smiles tenderly at Max and grabs his frozen hand.

“Any man or ring with her, boy, she just seems anxious.” Max breaths out feeling his chest doesn’t hurt.

He tried to think where she could be but for years, they spent all their holidays around the town, she could be anywhere.

Following his ritual he took a piece of paper from his notebook with his wish and left it in the mailbox, just this time in the next morning, in the mailbox a blue piece of paper appeared.

“Take it.” The old man said take it out and give it to him. “Maybe it’s your miracle.”

Max with shaking hands and holding carefully, he unfolded the paper.

<Merry Chrisymas Mr. Freeze hands!>

She was there, she definitely was there.

“Are you nuts?!” Daniel said almost choking with his dinner.

Max has a plan in mind, using all his resources for having his wish come true.

“It’s just a few words in the air.” Max rest importance cleaning the corner of his mouth. “Besides it’s on the SIM, isn’t  harmful.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Harmful? No, but come on Max! Everything you said in a blink will be on X, instagram, facebook, and other platforms.”

“Exactly! More diffusion, more reach.” Daniel shakes his head knowing trying to change his friend's mind, even if it is useless.

“You already talked with your team? Redline team.” Max didn’t answer, just kept eating. “MAX!”

Max laughs. “I’m planning to do it tonight!”

His team agreed with the strong belief that Max won't get it, not because they didn't want it, just because he's trying to find an old friend with any name and just barely any information that could be used to find someone.

“Ok Max, your turn.” Crane mentioned preparing the next race.

Max feels nervous, he giggles before speaking. “I would love to get some help from all of you.”

The chat immediately went crazy saying they would be glad to help.

“I lost contact with an old friend, so I was hoping you can help me to find that person one more time.” The chat lights on asking for the name or country. “Well, keeping things private I’m only going to tell you, I’m helping Santa Claus just this year.”

Max reads the comment that it’s like finding a fish in the ocean, impossible. “We used to spend Christmas together, in front of an old clockmaker's workshop.” That’s useful information, Crane laughs reading the comment. “So, can you please tell; little elf, I’m giving a hand to the big guy with red costume.”

The moment quickly goes viral, all the people are moved by the fact a triple world wide champion lost an old friend and he’s trying to find it for Christmas. It's so tender.

What wasn't tender was how the season is going, the first races all point to another brilliant season for the team until it isn’t.

Max constant researcher is paused everytime, and by the middle of the year the only useful information he gets is that the team is using this research to make more people know about it. 

But Barcelona took him by surprise.

With another win Max is fully focused on celebrating until before leaving the paddock one of the girls in charge of liaison, runs to get him before he goes.

“MAX!” The girl looks like she's seeing a ghost, pale and with wide open eyes. “You must see this.”

She gives him what a plain sight looks like and an old photo, he takes it as they keep walking until the car.

Finally inside he takes his time, or that's what he planned to do until he notices he doesn't have to, he recognises the girl in the photo.

Standing in front of a big Christmas tree as another girl hugs her looking at the camera, the other girl older and taller, wearing a white cape and black boots is laughing; his little elf is standing there with that beautiful smile, her red cape, black boots and rosy cheeks.

“Where is she?” Max asks, grabbing the seat ready to open the door and go wherever she tells him she is.

“That’s the problem.” She moves her head indicating they're ready to go. “I don’t think she’s here.”

“What?” Max looks through the window in panic as the car keeps moving. 

The girl gives him a piece of paper, as a number on it. “The girl who gave me the photo is the older one, she said the girl in red is her little sister but…” Max notices the hesitation on his teammate.

“But…” The girl turns around to see him in the back seat, as she narrows her eyes, Max is going crazy every second.

“Well, she isn’t that confident you’re looking for her sister at the right moment.” Max didn’t mean to explode, however it’s hard to control his emotions. 

“What the fuck?!” He takes his cap rubbing his face in his hands. “Sorry, sorry, I just… What else did she tell you?”

“Call her, both of you need to talk.” 

Max's mind surrounds for endless questions. Where is she? Did she know he’s looking for her? How is she? Why isn't it the right moment? What the hell has to do her sister in all this? 

Arriving at his hotel room before going to celebrate he dialed the number, concreting a meeting tomorrow in the morning at his hotel. 

“This isn’t true!” Daniel screams so Max could hear him among all the noise. “Come on Max! You’re not that foolish to believe this.”

“It’s the only coherent clue I had!” Max takes a sip of his drink.

“Or maybe it’s the sign for you to give up.” Max looks at him with cold eyes. “It’s been 6 months Max, let’s be real we’re not in a movie.”

Lando finds them on the table. “Are you planning to stay here so I can bring you a cup of tea or have fun?”

Next morning Max wakes up earlier than usual, his mind full and confused with Daniel words and the photo in his hands, when the hour they meet approaches he walks more than 10 times to the door and back to his bed. 

Slowly he remembers when she turned 10 years old, and arrived before him. By the time he got to the bench she had in her lap a cheesecake.

“What is this?” Max pointed as she smiled, taking out a candle making space between them to put the cake. 

“It’s my birthday, well… it was, but I’m making my own wish come true.” She carefully put the candle in the middle of it.

“Weirdo.” Max smiles at the ways she is so excited. “Wishes don't tell unless you don’t want to make it real.”

“Reason why I’m making it real, duh.” The girl lights the candle carefully as crosses her hands, closing her eyes. 

Max immediately starts to sing a happy birthday song softly observing how her smile grows bigger, when it ends the girl blows her candle.

“Now, what was your wish?” Max asked, grabbing the spoon the girl gave him. 

“Spending my birthday with my best friend.” Max froze in the moment a spoon stuck on the small cheesecake and a girl eating like she just said the most casual thing of the world.

Max smiles softly seeing the photo one more time, fuck everybody, he’s follow his little elf steps, making his own wish true.

[s4wdvator]

a friend of a friend — sam winchester

SUMMARY: Sam went to a Halloween party because of his best friend, and when he found himself bored and wanting to leave, his friend finally decided to introduce him a friend.

PAIRING: Stanford!Sam Winchester x fem!reader

WORDS COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: smut, y/n used two times *i guess*, gentle sam, oral sex (f! receiving), p in v, kisses, sam playing breasts, sam embarrassed, sassy reader lmaojejejej

a/n: I literally think I nailed it this time HHEHEJE, I literally loved writing this. I love Stanford! Sam. I think I should write something with him lol. Have a good read!!

sam winchester | masterlist | more abt me!

English is not my first language, I apologize if there is any mistake <3 (maybe I interchange 'he' and 'she' too much. I'm so sorry)

This fic will have sexual content. MDNI

Sam was not a party guy, especially those of Halloween - which reminded him of his reality- He didn't have many friends in his childhood or adolescence, he never managed to stay long enough in a school to have real friends or even a girl. But then when he managed to cut ties with his father and won a scholarship at Stanford University, he felt free for the first time.

In just a few days at the University, a blonde girl named Jessica soon befriended Sam, and with this new friendship with Jess, he became invited to events, outings and parties of Jessica's most popular friends.

Now, Sam is stuck at a Halloween party in some dorm. He has a plastic cup with any drink he found and drank, he was really already under the influence of alcohol but not necessarily drunk. He looked around the old couch he was sitting on, where just staring at the place he was in, made him sigh, because all he wanted was to be in his dorm, quiet and just studying, nothing very difficult to have, if Jessica hadn't begged.

It had been almost half an hour since he was there, doing nothing, just trying to finish the drink from his glass. When he really couldn't finish, he just left it next to a fainted guy on the couch. He got up, looking for Jessica, just to say goodbye to his friend, he was determined to leave there. As he walked, he murmured several "I'm sorry" to the lowest people he ended up bumping into. When he finally found Jess, she was in the kitchen talking to some girl who was with her back to him, where he just saw the back costume, which was from Alice in Wonderland.

"Sam!" Jess said excitedly as she faced her friend.

"Hey..." Sam said in a simple and slightly embarrassed way for being close to a presence he doesn't know.

"I'm glad you're here," Jessica said, throwing the typical mischievous look and smiling, "Well, this one is y/n!" The blonde said smiling and excited, she was definitely drunk.

Jess had definitely already talked about this friend of hers, y/n, like, Jessica had been trying to get this girl for him for almost a month.

"Well, I'll let you talk. I'm going to go after a refill," Jess said getting up and smiling at the two friends and soon leaving the kitchen.

"Hey...I'm Sam. Jess she had already said...a lot about you" He said putting his hands on the back of his neck and scratching, in a shame.

You can't help but smile, he was definitely cute and clearly under this outfit—that you couldn't identify what his fantasy was—he had a muscular chest and trunk, maybe nothing really exaggerated. It was crazy how, you hadn't even spoken to him properly and you already imagined him shirtless.

"Well... Hi Sam" You said excitedly, while smiling. You didn't know if it was already alcohol taking over your mind or you were just really happy.

You and Sam were talking for long minutes, you found out that his major here at Stanford was right, he is 21 years old, he has one more brother, Dean, 25 years old, his mother died in a kind of fire or something, and he and his father fought. His life was chaos, definitely. But apparently he loved you and loved the fact that you were studying psychology here at Stanford, since he didn't say a word to talk about. Everything he said, he found a way to return to the subject due to the fact that you are a future psychologist. He also praised you too much, this guy is a real gentleman.

With a few more minutes of conversation, the party started to get music and more colorful led's which caused you to no longer be able to talk so clearly when listening to each other.

"Do you want to go to my dorm?" You finally had the courage to ask him, of course, with a slight hesitation and fear of what the answer would be and if it would be some kind of rejection.

"Of course" He smiled more sympathetically at you.

When you had already gone to your dorm, you started talking to him normally, and clearly he listened to you attentively but couldn't stop paying attention to your lips, how they moved, how you sometimes licked him or bit him like a kind of craze of yours, or how your sweet voice came out of your throat.

"Do you want to sit down?" You asked him, pointing to his bed, while you took off your black high-heeled boot and sat on your bed.

"Yeah...I mean, of course," he said more embarrassedly, causing slight laughter coming from you and soon he sat next to her, but he didn't expect to be so close to the points of her thighs that were involved in her black trawler, touching his long legs.

"So, what kind of music do you like? I mean, it's 2004, you have to have something good about music" You joked while looking into his eyes, which you thought were brown but in fact, surprisingly, they were green.

"Well... I hear these classic things more. Metallic, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC..." He began to say, and that made you make a surprise face and face him.

"Really? No Usher? Justin Timberlake? I don't know" She laughed, clearly surprised that he just listened to classic rock.

"Whet? No, I mean, don't get me wrong, they're great. But I grew up listening to this kind of music and...well, doing things with my father and I didn't have much time to get to know pop culture, jazz and etc.," he said smiling, while staring at you in an enchanted way.

"Get it. But it's okay, I'll show you" You smiled staring at him, and he let out a loose laugh.

"You're funny" He smiled and stared at you for a few seconds, analyzing her blurred Alice's makeup. The way your hair was more or less messy. The way his lips called him and seemed more kissable than before. And before he could really think about what to say to her, he kissed her, not knowing if he would receive a slap in the face, a push or a curse coming from him. Surprisingly, you responded to the kiss more in the mood than him, while his hands went to his face, theirs were already holding his waist firmly, which seemed nothing compared to his big hands.

He carefully guided you to his lap, while the kiss was getting longer and longer, you could feel his hands touching every inch of you, now, with the kiss slightly intensifying, his hands were now caressing his thighs, sometimes some of his fingers entering inside the holes of her black line trawler, which honestly, for him is quite sexy.

His hands traveled to the buttons of the dress, which were located on his back, while he worked on unbuttoning his blue and white Alice dress. His hands were taking off his dark blue denim jacket.

She let out a slight moan when his hands slid to her thighs and then entered inside her dress, and when she touched her waist to be able to take off her dress. And once your dress came out of your body, and you were only in your bra and panties. He let out a sigh, admiring, before holding you firmly by the hips and kissing your neck next to the collarbone and he stared down, seeing the contour of your breasts and let out a sigh and smiled, you are beautiful from his point of view.

He carefully took you and left it underneath, he kept kissing your body and carefully, their hands went to the back of your bra and unbuttoned the buttons of the bra. When the bra got loose on his shoulders, he took it off and stared at his breasts—which seemed too perfect from his point of view—and then, he began to kiss his left breast while his big hands circled the shape of his right breast, he sucked his nipple and you let out a slight moan and put your hands on his hair, when he finished the service and attention to his breasts, he began to kiss his stomach until he reached his panties, he stared at you, as if he had asked for a kind of permission and you just nodded your head, already desperate for the The idea of his touch in your intimate area.

He carefully left a kiss against his panties and hit his clitoris right—which was already swollen with so much desire, along with how soaked you were—he put his hands on the straps of his panties and pulled down and smiled when he saw your naked pussy, just for him.

He sighed against his intimacy, causing a slight pleasure in his body.

Sam gently opened your legs better and then began to kiss his thighs, slow and wet kisses, until he reached his pussy. He started with kisses on the clitoris before moving forward and using his tongue two more times and then starting to work more with his tongue at his entrance, but his pointed and beautiful nose kept pressing his clitoris with each advance with his tongue at his entrance. Causing moans in the dorm.

While he did it slowly, trying to make it last as long as possible. His hands were on his hair, pulling, picking up, caressing, while his hips arched against his mouth.

When he started to accelerate more with his tongue, you moaned feeling that maybe you couldn't take that much.

"Sam..." You tried to warn that it wouldn't last that long.

He smiled, understanding the message of despair in his speech and accelerated more, when you saw it, you had come into his mouth, and he was eating his pussy for a few more 30 minutes and finally, took off his shirt and concentrated on his lips, while his hands caressed his chest—which was exactly as you imagined, muscular but hot and not at all exaggerated—his hands began to unbutton his pants and then take off and soon get into boxers.

You pulled him closer, and felt how big he really was, you couldn't tell if it scared you or excited you, maybe both.

So, he got rid of his boxers, and you were seeing his cock for the first time, it was thick, big and it was very hard, which made you unintentionally but genuinely smile.

You tried to touch, giving the intention that you also wanted to do oral, but he denied it, saying:

"I'm a gentleman. What kind of guy would I be having a blowjob on the first night with you? Sorry princess, next time" He smiled at you, making you laugh that he was such a gentleman.

"Fine" You smiled.

Then, the head of his cock pressed against his clitoris and rubbed lightly.

"Sam..." You let out a weak moan for the provocation coming from him.

He laughed, murmuring a 'sorry' before his cock rubbed his pussy and then the head of his cock began to enter his entrance.

'Oh my God' you thought.

So, he tried to advance another part of his big father and then his hands squeezing his broad shoulders while he looked at you with concern.

"M'Okay...it's just bigger than I expected" She laughed and so did he and sighed relieved.

When he began to move slowly and carefully, the entire length of his penis entered you and you could no longer hold the moans. He was being so careful, and loving with you that he surprised you.

While he stocked up strong but gently, despite reaching the cervix of her uterus, it is being one of the most pleasurable experiences of his life. His hands held his hips, to get more momentum. His others were now on his back, scratching, but nothing to the point of hurting him on purpose.

You smiled when you were getting closer and closer to reaching your climax. So, as if it were a way to try to get there faster, his hands that were on his back went to his ass, trying to force him to go deeper and he laughed.

"Calm down sassy girl" He whispered and smiled at her.

You let out a laugh, before you felt the climax approaching and he smiled when her walls began to squeeze his cock, understanding that she was very close.

"You can let go, babe" She whispered in her ear and kissed her jaw. The nickname caused chills all over your body and without thinking, you came surprisingly next to him. You let out a moan and sighed.

"God..." You whispered and he laid his face on your neck, still with his cock inside you "You better not have made me pregnant" she whispered jokingly, and he laughed, realizing that they had had had unprotected sex, which would be worrying, if you did not take care of yourself and were taking contraceptives.

"It's okay, I hope" he smiled and kissed you again, before taking his penis out of you and lying next to you and hugging you and you hugging him back as you felt him cover him and you with the blanket of your bed. And so, you ended up sleeping, feeling Sam caress your hair.

[amaranthineghost]

ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻

| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairings: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 1

ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp

ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.

ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!

ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.

IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?

he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.

it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.

it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.

he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.

he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.

more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.

he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.

when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.

max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.

when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."

lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.

"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.

"I'm fine."

"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."

"I will."

"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."

lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."

"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.

"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."

he paused, "fix it 'ow?"

lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."

"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"

lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.

"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.

"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.

"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"

"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.

"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"

"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.

"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"

"when we had dinner together."

max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"

"i 'ont know."

"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.

"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.

"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.

"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.

max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"

lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery

he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"

"you truly are a muppet."

"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.

and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.

his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.

he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.

it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.

" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."

it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.

"yeah, I know."

he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.

she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.

so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.

she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.

but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.

she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.

because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.

she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.

she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.

"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."

she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.

so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.

because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.

when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.

she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.

"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.

"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.

"but I was the one who broke you with you."

he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.

" 'nd I was the one who left."

she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.

her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.

his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.

"just don't leave again."

he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.

and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.

his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.

"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.

her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"

he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."

money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.

so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.

she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.

they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.

candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.

they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.

when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.

as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.

his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.

his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.

his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.

he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.

his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.

he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.

he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.

he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.

his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.

the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.

he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.

he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.

vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.

he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.

his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.

he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.

but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.

[brights-place]

[TWST] (Chenya) x M! Reader

1K 5 Part Special: 1 , 2 , 3 (You are here) ,4, 5 Warnings: Fluff, cursing

A/N: 3rd post for the 5 part series rubbing my hands together happily for getting 1K How have you all been? school holidays started so I can write and draw as much as I want !! anyways I'm so excited to be able to write and people enjoy it! it's also kind of short too my mind went blank half way

Summary: Chenya drags you to RSA when it was hosting a festival for sage island so he couldn't help but want to bother someone and he only thought about bothering you

When you first met chenya all you thought was that well he was extravagant, cheerful and mischievous as he likes to pull pranks for the sake of seeing people's frightened faces. Like when he likes to only making his head visible to terrify Deuce and Ace to look like he only has a head for a body part. Che'nya seems to be rather carefree and isn't afraid that much of the NRC students who holds hatred for Royal Sword Academy and their students, sometimes visiting Heartsabyul to see Trey and Riddle, despite being a student of Royal Sword Academy so how che'nya seems to grin towards you every time he comes to visit ditching his childhood friends to bother you he even enjoys to steal your stuff vanish with them and place them somewhere else so when che'nya came to you with his usual cheshrie grin and hovering over you to go with him you were shocked but accepted the request to go since other NRC students were going aswell to cause chaos but lets ignore that.

Che’nya strolled through Heartslabyul’s rose maze, his golden eyes lazily tracing the neatly trimmed hedges and vibrant red roses. The scent of freshly painted petals lingered in the air. Che’nya wasn’t here to admire the scenery. His gaze flicked around sharp and searching for the one person who had captured his attention since the unbirthday party then he finally saw you. His grin widened, tail flicking behind him with quiet amusement. With a mischievous glint in his eye his form began to fade, limb by limb, until he melted into the background of the garden "Hello every nyan how are you?" lips curved into a smirk. His tail brushed lightly against your arm as he leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with mischief as you let out an noise of confusion as he smiled "Fine thank you" he cackled leaning over your shoulder cackling as you groaned swiping his face away as he giggled fading his body back properly. "chenya!" you muttered swiping his face away as he vanished again reappearing a few steps ahead lounging casually on a bench as if he’d been there the whole time. His grin was unapologetic eyes alight with amusement “I didn’t scare you, did I?” he asked though the sly curve of his smile made it clear he wasn’t sorry in the slightest as you sighed going to sit beside him before he threw his legs on your lap as he stretched lazily he crossed his arms behind his head, gaze never leaving your “Why don’t ya come a little closer?” he teased, voice dripping with amusement. “I’ll behave… unless, of course, you tempt me not to.” You playfully batted his legs off your lap as he laughed before sitting up head laying on your shoulder as his tail brushed against your side lingering longer this time as his grin grew slyer as you smiled softly at him he was annoying yes but he was nice to be around.

“Those two first year students aren’t around, are they?” he asked his tone light but carrying a hint of curiosity. he’d hoped to catch you alone like this He relished having your attention solely on him sometimes though he would catch you with ace and deuce and also scare them for fun but being around you by himself was better. Each time he visited he made it a goal to ‘accidentally’ bump into you and today… things had gone exactly as he’d planned to find you 'bump' into you and scare you for fun. He couldn't help but relax with you on the bench before speaking "Hey... Do you wanna- like come to RSA? it's a festival going on" he said flicking his tail to your face as you swatted it away before speaking "I mean... if your paying" che'nya snickered "Who said Im paying?" You laughed softly before nodding "You know what yeah after all this stuff with everybody I don't mind hanging out with you" Che'nya couldn't help but perk up at your comment ears twitching slightly as his usual chesire grin "See I told you I can be very purrsuasive" he smirked as you snickered "Purrsuasive...? seriously Che'nya?" he gave a huge cheshire grin "Whatt? I think it was purrfect- Hey!" he laughed trying to push your hand away from yanking his ear before smiling at you with not his usual cheshrie grin but a softer one before hearing a voice "LOOK THAT CATS BACK!" Che'nya grinned before looking seeing NRC student point to him as he spoke "Oh gotta go buh bye nyah" he grinned vanishing as the NRC students ran over "Shit he's gone again! prefect are you alright?" You smiled and nodded "im fine you all should do your duties before Riddle finds you guys" the boys dispersed as soon as the thought of riddle collaring them entered their mind. When you went to the festival you were greeted by some RSA students which caused your face to sour it was not the same as NRC but relaxed when you see the famillar face of Che'nya who appeared infront of you and slinged an arm over your shoulder "lets go nya" the day flew by as you both hanged out even two of you getting matching keychains of two cats making a heart with their tails when connected and also buying che'nya a stupid hairclip which he copied the expression of causing you to giggle. The two of you were holding hands after going on a few rides before stopping at a cotton candy stall as che'nya smirked taking a bite of your pink cotton candy as you gasped before stealing a bite of his tasting the sugary snack as Che'nya and you had a bite of cotton candy war over the flavored puff balls of sugar smiling childishly with eachother.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[kolbalissh]

wip game!

tagged by @beabnormal24 ! your carbono wip already has me wanting more UGH its so freaking good, and no doubt to it

now i myself havent been writing much at all tbh, this half written angst (?) carcar fic is all i have at the moment lmao i might keep writing it if motivation strikes again haha

anyways enjoy!

wip :

Like clockwork, Oscar woke up in a bed that wasn't his again. The scent of the sheets smelled nothing like his space but one that's become so familiar, the musky cologne and the smell of fabric softener mixed with his own gradual husk over the course of the nights he's spent here. He looks to his right, the duvet flipped over and the area empty, only the indents left on the pillow and mattress evidence that someone was indeed there.

He reaches out with his hands, softly touching and smoothing out the wrinkled sheets beside him, his pale arm stretching out first thing in the morning - or was it noon?

It doesn't matter; he knows his routine. He gets up, picks up the clothes thrown across the floor from last night, puts them on, and then goes to brush his teeth — it's odd, really. He knows to leave at the earliest, that he may overstay his welcome, but then Carlos insists that he has his own fair share of clothes, socks, toothbrushes, and other things at his place, even going as far as keeping Tim Tams in his pantry.

It made Oscar's mind go wild. He's always been good at reading others and always been good at being the one to mask his own demeanor, never letting more than just a polite smile speak for himself in any given situation. He wasn't as charming as the other man, somehow even in the wrong, people would thank Carlos for his troubles even if it was Carlos who caused much of the calamity.

But he could never read Carlos properly. The signs everywhere contradicted each other the moment Oscar thought he could come to a conclusion. One moment he's safely nestled in between his arms, drifting to the safest sleep he's had in years and the next they don't call or talk for weeks at a time. At times Oscar walks around the Spaniard's Monaco apartment in nothing but boxers and his old toro rosso shirt with a cup of warm tea, and the next he can't understand why he has to wake up to an empty bed with hardly just a note on his bedside table.

Carlos was a good person, he can confidently say that for sure, he didn't wrong him nor did he intentionally hurt the younger man, but something wasn't as straightforward for him the way it was for Oscar. Maybe it was tough accepting yourself at such a later age when you have spent so long being somebody you aren't or maybe it was a phase, maybe Carlos just wanted to experiment since he couldn't before.

But Oscar wouldn't know. You put two introverts in a room, and the walls would erode first before either spoke to each other. Oscar would like to know him more. Talk about their sisters, talk about how they spent their childhood holidays, Oscar thinks that if they'd talked they'd realize they have more in common than they think.

Though Oscar is also stubborn, his inquisitive nature wouldn't beat his ego. He'd rather stay mum for the rest of his time with Carlos than be the first to ask him about the things that have made the man he spends most of his nights with.

tagging @shrimptiger @rocketinthesky @tiredwishes ! (no pressure)

[zenfiii]

My favorite ships of all time.. but as lesbians‼️‼️+ why i love these ships

Why i love these ships: they're stupid together

Anyway hope you like my designs!! Even if some are barely noticeable 🫠

(I'll be adding the qijiu drawing later!!)

(real reasons under the cut)

Clarification: they are not listed according to which one I like the most‼️ I have also only chosen the one I like the most, but there are many others ships that I enjoy as much as these! It's just that these have a special place in my heart (not to mention it's like four in the morning and I'm not going to draw more lol). With that said, let's see why I like these ships 😯

Torisai: Watching the series, Toritsuka became my favourite character because of how funny he was and especially because of his relationship with Saiki. Already when Saiki threatened him in the bathroom and half kabedoned him the gears in my head started working.

These two ironically are very close. Throughout the whole series Toritsuka has been very clingy with Saiki and even though Saiki himself despises and insults him, he actually cares and trusts him enough to do something as important as the volcano problem. They have this hate-love-hate relationship that I love, because Tori practically praises him while Saiki treats him like a germ, but, in the end, whether he wants to or not, he gives in (that's a lie, he doesn't, but let's pretend he does).

Saiki is practically a god to Tori and Tori is more of a problem to Saiki. They can't stand each other many times but they need each other's help on many other occasions. I love them I hope they get run over.

(I know I'm not saying much, but it's been a while since I've seen the series. If I rewatch it, I'll probably write this again with more details!!)

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

Zensung: For many years my otp was yooran, BUT I discovered that this ship actually existed and OMG. I've always been a multishipper, I believe that love is the solution to everything, and for a long time I was exploring other ships but this one I had never seen, when I did everything changed, seriously.

Their dynamic, their chemistry and their relationship both inside and outside the canon UGH. They've always had that big brother/little brother type of relationship, very adorable and all, but what happens when one of them starts to have feelings for the other? Then everything becomes more complicated because these seemingly innocent acts can suddenly have a different meaning. Going over to each other's house unannounced suddenly isn't so comfortable, being so close is suffocating, and the touching is too much to bear.

On Yoosung's part the problem comes more from the fact that he is his friend, and not only that, his incredibly attractive friend. And on Zen's part there is the fact that he is a man, and not only that, a man he actually finds very cute. So they have this awkward dynamic of not knowing how to approach each other properly and it's so delicious. I could read thousands of fanfics where it's just them trying to figure out what's the best way to just accept these feelings. Very cute, hopefully they kiss mua.

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

Xiaoven: When I wasn't playing genshin yet I came across some very nice art of them on Instagram. When I started playing Venti quickly became my favourite character. Shortly after that I got to know the pairing he had with Xiao and I found it. So cute. I did some research and saw that there was a lot of stuff around them and thought "wow, that's cool!! From so much content I'm sure a lot of people love it". Er. What a surprise when I realised that for a long time it's been one of the most hated ships in the community and I was like ???? I couldn't understand why, and to this day I still don't understand why it's so hated jksjdks.

Anyway. Why I like it is very simple. They're cute together. Xiao who has been isolating himself from everyone and everything actually has someone he holds dear to his heart because not only has he saved him, he constantly helps him and keeps him company. A pure soul who is there and embraces him with all that he is. And on Venti's side, although it doesn't seem like it, he actually is pretty much alone, all his friends, most of them, dead. And it's not like he can visit the ones that are alive. He is a free soul but, essentially he is lonely. He spends his nights with Xiao because he is someone he can trust, and secretly Venti hopes to spend more nights with him. Ayyy my kids how I love them, if I could I would put them in a little box and keep them away from everything bad in this world.

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

Ivantill: My lovely kids! I love them because they have this whole complicated story, how Till loves Ivan but doesn't show it, and how Ivan wants Till to look at him but does it with violence because he doesn't know how to express it normally!! Well none of them know how to do it normally but uh, yeah.

Quite recent, but their story is very good! Although to be honest I don't really like angst and prefer to draw them happy, so I'll stick with au's!! I'd rather shamelessly cover my eyes and think they're happy than see how they've really ended up lol. Although that has its own beauty too, I just prefer the adorable stuff.

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

[crazydestinymilkshake]

Caitlin Clark x Kate Martin Ch 18

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing a fic! Any feedback is welcome. Friends -> lovers, Caitlin's gay-awakening. I obviously don't own any of the rights to these characters etc.

This one is mostly smut xo

NSFW: Wlw, fxf etc, smut, all that good stuff.

March Madness P1 Freshman Year

It started the night before March Madness began.

Not on the court. Not in film study. Not even in the long, sleepless hotel rooms that smelled like cheap detergent and recycled air.

It started in Caitlin’s body. In the ache she couldn’t outrun. In the hunger that lived under her skin like a second, wilder heart.

She tried. God, she tried.

Shot until her arms burned. Lifted until her quads screamed. Counted calories like prayers. Ran film until her vision blurred.

But none of it drowned it out. None of it quieted the way she still felt Kate’s hands ghosting over her skin. The way her body lit up at the thought of her.

It wasn’t mental anymore. It wasn’t even emotional. It was cellular.

She showered too long, scalded her skin until it stung, and still crawled into bed feeling like her body wasn’t hers anymore.

It was Kate’s.

It had been Kate’s since January. Since the first time Caitlin had let herself say yes without calculating what she had to trade for it.

She hadn't touched her in days.

Not properly. Not the way she wanted.

Ever since before the Big Ten Tournament, Caitlin had been the one who set the boundary.

"I just need a little space during games," she'd said, palms pressed to Kate’s chest like she could push them both back into sanity.

Kate had nodded — understanding, steady, perfect. But now?

Now Caitlin was wrecked.

So wrecked she couldn't breathe properly without replaying what it felt like to straddle Kate's thigh. To bury her face against Kate’s neck and sob through coming harder than she thought she was capable of.

So wrecked she was grinding against the mattress like a fucking teenager — desperate, furious, miserable.

None of it stopped the restless throb between her legs — the low, crawling heat that had nothing to do with game day adrenaline.

She wasn’t thinking about UConn. Wasn’t thinking about the bracket. Wasn’t thinking about the headlines or the haters or the pressure.

She was thinking about Kate. Only Kate.

Kate’s hand gripping her hip. Kate’s voice in her ear — low, steady, wrecking — whispering, "Let go for me." Kate’s mouth dragging slow, reverent kisses down her body like prayer.

Caitlin shoved the covers off her body, trembling, heart pounding.

She made it until midnight.

She made it until the lights were off and her roommate — a freshman forward — snored two beds over.

She got up and turned on the shower.

Locked the door. 

Not because she wanted to. Because she had to. Because if she didn’t, she was going to tear her own skin off.

She stripped fast, reckless. Turning the water up so hot it stung. 

The second the spray hit her skin, Caitlin braced one hand against the cheap tile wall, chest heaving, body already vibrating with a hunger so deep it felt like it was eating her alive.

Caitlin squeezed her thighs together, desperate and ruined.

One hand slipped lower — frantic, rough, almost cruel.

Her body was alive. Screaming. Pulsing.

​​She didn’t tease herself. Didn’t take her time.

She attacked it.

Slipped two fingers over her clit — harsh, shaky, half a breath from sobbing — chasing the memory of Kate’s mouth, Kate’s thigh, Kate’s voice fucking her into dust.

There was no calculation anymore. No plan. No performance.

Only Kate.

Kate’s mouth against her throat. Kate’s hands dragging her shirt up, slow and clumsy. Kate whispering, "Come here, baby,"  low.

She slid three fingers inside herself — fast, frantic, no rhythm — just chasing it, chasing her, chasing the edge she could never quite reach without thinking of Kate.

She wasn’t patient. She wasn’t soft. She fucked herself like she was trying to tear the want out by force.

She bit into her own forearm to stay silent, teeth sinking deep enough to leave a mark.

She rubbed tight, desperate circles over her clit — gasping against the tile — riding her own hand like it could save her.

She was wrecked. Feral. Gone.

Every breath came ragged. Every nerve in her body screamed for one thing, one person.

Kate. Kate. Kate.

She came hard. Harder than she meant to.

No moan. No gasp.

Just a full-body convulsion against the slick tile. Silent. Shattering.

It ripped through her — brutal and hot and endless — and still, when it ended, the need stayed.

And still it wasn’t enough.

Still, the wanting stayed.

Still, her body shook with it — with the wild, awful truth of it:

She had never wanted anything like she wanted Kate. She had never wanted anyone like she wanted Kate. She had never even known it was possible to need like this. To ache this way. To burn so stupid and wrecked and raw inside her own skin. Just a shudder that ripped through her like she was trying to tear herself in half.

Her whole life, Caitlin had treated her body like a machine. Something to discipline. Something to control. She had starved it. Pushed it. Demanded it perform without asking what it needed.

And now?

Now it wanted. Now it begged. Now it screamed for Kate with every goddamn breath. There was no controlling it anymore. No shutting it off.  No shoving it back down.

There was only this:  the truth that had been waiting under her skin all along.

You are not a machine.You are not a brand.You are a girl who wants.You are a body that craves.

And she craved Kate.

Her mouth. Her hands. Her voice, low and rough against her throat, saying "Mine, Caitlin. Mine."

Caitlin sank to her knees in the shower, water scalding her back, hands trembling uselessly in her lap.

She scrubbed her skin raw.

Tried to wash the wanting out of her.

Tried to scrub herself back into someone who deserved to lead tomorrow.

It didn’t work.

It never worked.

She wasn’t strong enough to fight it anymore. Wasn’t stupid enough to pretend she wanted to.

She closed her eyes.

And it was Kate there. Always Kate.

Kate’s hand gripping her thigh. Kate’s mouth brushing her collarbone. Kate’s laugh — that stupid, cocky, wrecking laugh — when Caitlin begged without meaning to.

She pressed her forehead to her knees. Breathed through the ache.

And for the first time in her life, she didn’t hate herself for needing.

She just missed her. Missed her so much it broke her wide open.

And she stayed like that — ruined, shaking, alive — until the water ran cold and the world came back.

—---------

She slammed two iced coffees at breakfast.

Chirped at the freshman who cut her off in the bagel line.

Almost bit off her own tongue during team prayer.

Kate kept sneaking glances at her — that little frown between her eyebrows that only came out when she knew Caitlin was spiraling — but she didn’t say anything.

She just bumped her shoulder once during warmups.

Caitlin flinched like she’d been shot.

The first half was ugly.

Caitlin missed her first two threes. Got bodied hard on a layup. Bitched at the ref enough to get a warning.

Kate grabbed her wrist during a timeout. Pressed her forehead briefly to Caitlin’s.

"You're okay," she whispered. "You're right here."

Caitlin shook her off — not mean — just raw.

She knew she was being a bitch. She knew Kate was trying.

She just couldn't stop vibrating.

In the second half, they pulled away.

Caitlin found her shot.

Step-back three. Deep transition pull-up. No-look dime to Gabby under the rim.

She was flying.

High on adrenaline. High on her own body. High on everything she had no fucking clue how to contain anymore.

Kate caught a rebound and sprinted up beside her — bumping her hip, grinning, flushed, so pretty, so pretty, fuck—

And Caitlin snapped. She didn’t care if it was crazy. She didn’t care if it was reckless. She needed Kate to feel it. To know it. To carry it in her body too.

No warning. No filter. No mercy.

She leaned in — quick, breathless, feral — and whispered under her breath, grinning like a maniac: "I fucked myself in the shower last night thinking about riding your thigh."

Kate’s whole body seized.

She tripped mid-sprint. Nearly lost the ball. Eyes wide, cheeks flaming, hands flailing like she’d been shoved.

Gabby shrieked from the wing, "YO! PASS!"

Kate passed blindly. Somehow. By the grace of God.

Her ears were pink. Her hands were shaking.

Caitlin sprinted past her, laughing under her breath — wild, high, out of her goddamn mind — feeling the wreckage of what she’d just done buzz through her bloodstream like a drug.

Eastern Michigan stood no chance.

They won by twenty.

No one saw the real battle.

The battle Caitlin had already won — the moment she whispered in her ear and watched her fall apart.

The box score looked perfect.

But Caitlin still felt destroyed.

Every time she looked across the court and saw Kate, her chest tightened.

Every time Kate brushed against her — catching her waist after a rebound, bumping shoulders in the huddle — her body sparked like dry kindling.

She played hard. She played angry.

And when they won, she hugged Kate quickly and fiercely and shoved it all back down.

—---

Kate didn’t speak to her.

Not in the handshake line.

Not in the locker room.

Not on the bus.

She just stared at her — wild-eyed, shell-shocked, pink-eared — like Caitlin had personally reached into her chest and pulled her heart out.

Caitlin knew exactly what she was doing.

She didn't feel sorry about it. Not even a little.

If she had to suffer, so did Kate.

Later that night, Kate lay on top of the covers in her hotel room, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended her.

The TV played some crime procedural in the background — muffled gunshots, clunky dialogue — but she didn’t hear a word of it.

All she could hear was Caitlin's voice.

That stupid, fucking, cocky whisper.

I fucked myself in the shower last night thinking about riding your thigh.

Kate groaned into her pillow.

She wasn’t even touching herself. Couldn’t.

Every time she tried, she heard Caitlin’s laugh again — low, breathless, triumphant — and her whole body twitched like she was about to crawl out of her own skin.

Kate groaned into her pillow. She was so gone for her it wasn't even funny. She wasn't used to this.

Not the wanting — that was normal. Not even the needing — she’d been in love with Caitlin Clark for months now.

It was the losing control part.

The way one fucking sentence had ripped her right out of her body.

The way her hands still shook.

The way she could feel Caitlin’s smirk burning into her ribs even now.

Kate jammed a pillow over her face and groaned.

She was going to die.

Caitlin was actually going to kill her.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow they had to pretend to be normal again.

—------------------

The next morning at breakfast, Kate was a disaster.

She dropped her fork twice.

Tipped over her coffee.

Nearly bit through her lip trying not to stare at Caitlin across the table.

Caitlin, of course, was a menace.

Loose hoodie. Hair still damp from a shower. Grinning like she owned the fucking world.

She caught Kate’s eye once — just once — and winked.

Kate’s whole soul left her body.

McKenna elbowed her. "You good?"

Kate choked on her orange juice. "Fine."

Caitlin smirked into her yogurt like she hadn't just turned Kate into a living crime scene.

—----

Pregame warmups weren’t better.

Kate tried to stay locked in — run her drills, lead stretches, keep the energy up.

Caitlin was not helping.

She kept brushing against Kate.

Tiny touches.

A hand at her waist during defensive slides.

A bump against her hip after a made three.

A grin, loose and wild and devastating, every time Kate so much as looked at her.

By the time they circled up for the final pregame talk, Kate’s heart was hammering so hard she thought everyone could hear it.

—-------

The first half was pure torture.

Caitlin played like a goddamn demon.

Loose. Cocky. Reckless in the way only she could get away with.

Every time she nailed a three, she found Kate — eyes bright, mouth open around a gasp that was almost a moan.

Kate boxed out. She rebounded. She hustled.

She didn’t let herself think about it.

But it was there.

Burning under her skin.

Caitlin would run past her and bump her shoulder, just lightly, and it would feel like being set on fire.

Kate was gonna lose her mind.

Or her dignity.

Or both.

Halftime couldn’t come fast enough. They hit the locker room up by twelve.

Coach barked out instructions. The assistants handed out Gatorade.

Caitlin jogged past Kate to grab a towel — eyes dark, cheeks flushed, alive — and brushed her fingers across Kate’s wrist.

Just a graze.

Barely there.

Kate almost dropped her bottle.

Almost grabbed her right there by the hoodie strings and pinned her to the locker.

Instead she bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood.

Caitlin caught her eye.

Grinned.

Winked.

Kate swore under her breath and stared at the ground like it might save her.

—--

Second half was worse.

Caitlin didn’t ease up.

Not on the court.

Not on Kate.

She dropped another fifteen points like it was nothing — and every time she celebrated, every time she sprinted back down the court, she sent Kate one look.

Hot.

Daring.

Kate was gonna lose it.

Actually lose it.

Not on the court. Not at the game.

Later.

When she was alone.

When Caitlin wasn’t looking.

When the only thing left was her hands and the stupid, breathless memory of Caitlin laughing in her ear:

I fucked myself in the shower last night thinking about riding your thigh.

Kate wanted to die.

Or live.

Or both.

—--

After the win, the handshake line blurred.

Caitlin hugged her in the middle of the chaos — sweaty and smiling and fucking perfect — and Kate almost dropped her knees right there on the hardwood.

Caitlin pressed her mouth against Kate’s ear — quick, private, just between them — and whispered: "I love you."

Her heart was still pounding when she sat down in the locker room and dropped her head into her hands. "You're gonna kill me," she muttered.

Caitlin just smirked.

And Kate knew — God help her — this was only the beginning.

The locker room still pulsed with noise when Caitlin stumbled back in — cheeks flushed, jersey soaked, grinning so wide it hurt.

Music blasted from somebody’s speaker. Sneakers squeaked against the wet tile. Gatorade splashed against the walls.

Kate sat slumped against the bench, breathing heavy, still flushed from the win, still vibrating from the fucking whisper Caitlin had dropped on her mid-game.

Her mouth tasted like salt and madness.

Caitlin stripped her jersey off slow — too slow — pulling it over her head, hair sticking up in sweaty clumps. Her sports bra clung to her skin, damp and translucent.

Kate looked up. Looked away. Looked back.

A towel snapped near her head. McKenna shrieked with laughter. Someone dumped half a bottle of water down Gabby’s back. Jada leapt over a bench.

The chaos blurred.

All Kate could see was Caitlin.

Bare skin. Damp hair. Eyes glittering with something wild and merciless.

Little by little, the room emptied.

Coaches filtered out. Teammates peeled off — showers, trainers, phones buzzing.

Kate stayed seated.

Caitlin stayed standing.

Their eyes met.

Everything else went still.

The noise faded until it felt like they were breathing underwater — loud in their own bodies, drowning in everything they couldn’t say.

Kate’s hands clenched into fists on her knees.

Caitlin dropped her jersey onto the bench. Walked — slow, deliberate — toward the showers.

She didn’t look back.

Kate didn’t even pretend to hesitate.

The showers were still running — a few — but no voices echoed anymore. No footsteps.

It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but the ache pounding in both of them.

Then Kate shoved her backward — hard — until Caitlin’s spine hit the cold tile wall with a thud.

Caitlin gasped — not from fear. From recognition.

From the knowing.

From the way Kate’s mouth crashed against hers like a threat and a promise all at once.

The second they were past the tile threshold Caitlin slammed the faucet open, letting the water roar to life.

Kate barely had time to blink before Caitlin grabbed her by the collar and kissed her — brutal, hot, filthy — under the pounding spray.

Kate gasped into it, hands finding Caitlin’s hips, gripping tight enough to bruise.

But then — then — she pulled back, panting, forehead pressed to Caitlin’s.

"You want this?" she rasped. "You sure?"

Caitlin let out a sound — half-sob, half-growl — and nodded hard, fists clutching Kate’s shirt like she was afraid she’d vanish.

"Say it," Kate whispered, eyes dark and burning. "Tell me."

"I want you," Caitlin gasped. "I want you so bad, Katie, please—"

Their chests collided. Their mouths missed. Their hands fumbled. Caitlin moaned — real, destroyed, reckoning — into her mouth. Her fingers clawed at Kate’s jersey, yanking it up, desperate, ruthless.

Kate tugged Caitlin’s shorts down her hips — fast, fumbling, half-ripping the waistband.

Caitlin gasped against her throat. "God, I need—"

Kate slammed her back against the wall, lifted her thigh between Caitlin’s legs, and ground up hard. "Fuck, baby," she whispered against her skin. "You think you can fuck yourself thinking about me, you think you can run your mouth on court like that, and I wouldn't ruin you the second I got you alone?"

Caitlin whimpered — actually whimpered — grinding into her, hips frantic.

"You thought you were in charge," Kate muttered, dragging her tongue slow, filthy, over the inside of Caitlin’s trembling thigh. "You thought you could tease me and walk away?"

Caitlin shook her head — wild, desperate — but it didn’t matter.

Kate shoved her shorts down — not careful, not slow — just desperate to get to her and had already slid her thigh back up between Caitlin’s bare legs. She had her caged against the wall, already had her body screaming.

Water beat down on their bodies, steam curling around them like smoke.

"You're out of your fucking mind," Kate whispered, voice rough, breath ragged. "Thinking you could get me this fucked up and not pay for it."

Caitlin clawed at her — fingers dragging over Kate’s sweaty back, nails biting into her shoulders.

Kate rocked her thigh up between Caitlin’s legs — slow, heavy, devastating.

Caitlin cried out — muffled it against Kate’s neck, panting, grinding helplessly.

Kate bit the curve of Caitlin’s shoulder — just enough to make her jolt, whimper.

"You don't get to do that and not get ruined, Cait."

"Fuck," Caitlin hissed, clutching at her shoulders, grinding down like she was trying to climb inside her.

Kate’s hands slid everywhere — slick skin, trembling thighs, desperate hips.

"More," Caitlin gasped, forehead pressed to Kate’s collarbone, hips snapping.

Caitlin’s hips moved like she couldn’t control them anymore — frantic, gasping, chasing friction.

Kate slid two fingers up the inside of her thigh — slow, testing — and found her soaked. 

"Jesus," Caitlin breathed.

Kate caught her wrists, pinned them up over her head with one hand.

Caitlin moaned —  grinding up into Kate’s thigh, chasing it like oxygen. Kate kissed her — messy, biting, punishing.

Kate pushed her fingers higher — slow, teasing, wicked — until Caitlin sobbed once into her neck.

"Please," Caitlin begged.

"You needed me that bad?" Kate murmured. "Needed to fuck yourself in a shower thinking about me?"

Caitlin whimpered — bucked helplessly against her mouth.

Kate ground her thigh up harder — relentless, merciless — and Caitlin almost broke.

"You think you can tease me like that and not get punished?"

Not yet.

Not yet.

Kate kissed her again — all teeth and tongue and bruised lips.

"Beg for it," Kate whispered, voice dark and electric against Caitlin’s ear.

Before Caitlin could answer, Kate bit — sharp, claiming — at the soft flesh just below her hip. 

Caitlin gasped — high and helpless. "I can’t—" she panted, grinding desperately, losing herself.

Kate squeezed her wrists tighter. Pressed her body harder into hers.

"You can," she growled. "You can beg. Or you can keep fucking yourself stupid on my leg until you come like the desperate little fucking mess you are."

Caitlin whimpered — bucked her hips harder — brain fried, body betraying her.

She'd never been like this. Never.

Never needed like this.

Kate grabbed her thigh harder, pulled her closer, pinned her against the wet tile.

She worked her slow.

Deliberate.

Murderous.

Let her squirm.

Let her grind down against her mouth helplessly.

Caitlin had never burned like this.

Never begged.

But now—

Now she didn’t care.

"Please," she gasped. "Please, Katie—fuck, I need—need you—"

Kate kissed her — rough, wet, claiming — and slid two fingers inside her, deep. Kate bit — sharp, claiming — at the soft flesh just below her hip.

"God, you're dripping for me," Kate breathed, stunned, filthy.

Caitlin broke.

Bucked against her hand, clutching at her, panting, riding her fingers like she was going to fucking die if she didn’t come.

"Is this what you needed?" Kate whispered, biting at her jawline. "You needed to be touched like you’re mine?"

Kate was relentless. Slick hands gripping Caitlin’s thighs, tongue working her in slow, devastating circles — never quite letting her tip over.

Caitlin writhed — desperate, begging, grinding into her face.

"You’re mine," Kate growled against her. "You’re mine, Caitlin Clark. Say it."

Caitlin choked out a moan — loud, desperate, wild — and cried, "I’m yours, Katie, I’m yours, please, don’t stop, don’t ever stop—"

Kate didn’t stop.

Didn’t even slow down. She fucked her through it — rough and raw and holy — mouthing filth against her thigh the whole time:

Kate curled her fingers just right — slow, sure, ruthless — and pressed her thigh harder between Caitlin’s legs. 

Caitlin shattered — not coming yet — just losing her mind.

Kate teased. Circled. Never quite giving her what she needed.

"You think I haven't been thinking about this every fucking second since you said that?"

Caitlin shook her head violently.

Kate kissed her temple — soft, almost cruel — while she circled her clit slowly and devastatingly.

Caitlin bucked against her hand, whimpering.

Kate finally — finally — slid another finger inside her, slow and deep and pushed down on her clit hard.

Caitlin screamed into her shoulder, hips snapping, trying to ride her hand.

Kate pinned her harder to the wall. "Take it," she growled. "Take it like a good girl."

Caitlin sobbed — real tears — clenching hard around Kate’s fingers. Kate fucked her slow, rough, relentless — curling her two fingers, grinding a third against her clit — while Caitlin came apart in her arms.

It wasn’t neat.

"Take it, baby."

It was messy, slow, brutal.

"God, you’re so fucking pretty when you break for me."

It was well deserved.

Caitlin came hard and fast, biting down on Kate’s shoulder to stay quiet, whole body trembling, thighs clenching around Kate’s hips.

Kate held her through it. Let her ride it. Let her fall.

"Good girl," she whispered. "Good fucking girl."

Caitlin broke.

Not once.

Not twice.

But over and over and over again — shattering on Kate’s fingers, sobbing into the back of her own wrist, collapsing down the wet tile until Kate had to catch her.

Kate held her through it. Held her through the spasms, through the shaking, through the collapse.

When Caitlin slumped, boneless and trembling, against her chest, Kate just kissed the top of her sweaty head.

“I love you," she whispered.

Caitlin clung to her — sweaty, ruined, wrecked — trembling like she’d just survived a natural disaster.

Kate’s hand moved slowly up and down her back — steady, soothing — like she knew exactly how to anchor her without trapping her. "You’re mine," Kate whispered. "You know that, right?"

Caitlin nodded against her throat — breathless, broken, blissed out. "Yeah," she gasped. "Yours."

Kate smiled — small, destroyed, and in love — and kissed her again.

The water still poured down around them — steam curling against the tile — but neither of them moved. Caitlin sagged against Kate, breathing in ragged little gasps, whole body trembling like a tuning fork.

Kate kissed her temple once, twice, three times — small, grounding touches — before easing them both down to sit on the slick floor, pulling Caitlin into her lap like she weighed nothing.

For a long, humming moment, they just sat there — Caitlin curled into her chest, heartbeat a frantic stutter against Kate’s ribs.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. The water kept beating down. Cooling slowly. Steam clinging to their bare skin.

Caitlin could still feel it. The echo of it. The way her body had given out in Kate’s hands — shattering like something holy.

Kate brushed her mouth against Caitlin’s temple. Soft. Worshipful.

"You’re okay," she whispered. "I’ve got you."

Caitlin whimpered — not from pain. From everything.

Kate didn’t rush her. Didn’t ask for anything. Just held her.

And when Caitlin finally shifted — blinking up, loose and flushed and completely wrecked — Kate smiled so soft it could have knocked her down.

Kate kissed the crown of her head and asked, quiet but serious: "Baby, can I ask you something?"

Caitlin nodded. Tiny. Floating. Still caught somewhere between heaven and earth.

Kate tucked a lock of wet hair behind her ear, fingers gentle. "Was that okay?" Kate asked, voice rough with the effort to stay soft, stay good. "I need you to tell me if anything wasn't."

Kate helped her sit up a little straighter, even though Caitlin stayed pressed tight to her chest — heat to heartbeat. "Okay?" Caitlin croaked. "Kate, I—" She broke off, laughing a little helplessly. "I don't even know my own name right now."

Kate shifted slightly, enough to meet her eyes fully. Enough to make sure she was seen. "I know you liked what just happened," she said, voice low, "but I need to make sure... was there anything you didn’t like?" I mean... what I said. How rough it got. Kate’s thumb brushed her cheekbone. "You can tell me if anything was too much."

Caitlin shook her head immediately. "No. God, no. I—" She flushed, but forced herself to say it. "I’m okay," Caitlin whispered fiercely. "I'm so okay."  She pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. "You didn’t hurt me," she said. "You didn’t scare me." 

Kate's arms tightened around her automatically — protective, careful, already so fucking gone for her. Tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying melted out of her chest. "Because I don’t ever want to push you somewhere you don’t want to go. Even if you’re begging for it in the moment. I need you to be able to stop me anytime," Kate said. "Even if you’re desperate. Even if you want it. I’ll always stop if you need."

Caitlin cupped her face — trembling, sure. "I know," she said. "I know you will. That’s why I can let go like that. That’s why I want it with you." She curled a little closer, bare thighs brushing Kate’s lap. "You didn’t push me," she whispered. "You gave me exactly what I needed."

"I want to make sure though," she said. "When I talk to you like that — when I touch you like that — it’s good?" Caitlin blushed harder. Buried her face against Kate’s neck. Kate chuckled, warm and easy. "Superstar," she teased. "You can’t say filthy things to me mid-game and then turn into a turtle now."

Caitlin laughed — breathless, wrecked — and pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.  "I feel safe with you, Kate. Even when I'm begging. Even when I'm stupid with it."

Kate let out a broken, wrecked little laugh. Rested their foreheads together.

"And the way I talked to you?" Kate said, softer. "Calling you my good girl. Telling you what to do. That was okay?"

"I like it," she said, cheeks burning. "I like... when you tell me what to do." She swallowed. "I like when you’re rough with me."

Kate’s pupils blew wide, dark with want and something deeper — something careful and reverent. 

"Okay," Kate said again, slower this time, letting it settle between them. 

"I like when you’re rough," she said. "I like when you take it. When you take me."

Kate groaned low — deep in her chest — like Caitlin had just punched through the last layer of her sanity. "Anything you don’t want?"

Caitlin thought. Bit her lip. "Nothing mean," she said finally. "Nothing that feels like... like you don't love me."

Kate smiled so softly it almost broke her. "Never," she promised. "I couldn't."

"I’m yours," Caitlin whispered. "You don’t have to be careful if I tell you I want it."

Kate laughed low in her throat — dark and fond and wrecked.

"Okay, baby," she murmured. "You can have whatever you want." Caitlin flushed even deeper. Smiled so big it hurt.

Kate kissed her forehead. Sealed it like a promise. Caitlin tipped her head back to give her more room, still trembling, still dizzy, still not quite believing she was allowed to feel like this.

After a long, broken breath, Kate lifted her head again. "You tell me if you ever want something different," she said. “"You tell me if you want softer. Or slower. Or more."

Caitlin nodded. "I will," she promised. "I will."

"I just love you too much to ever hurt you by accident."

"You won’t," Caitlin whispered. "You don't."

Kate smiled — small, stunned — like she couldn’t quite believe Caitlin was real.

"I’m yours," Caitlin added. Voice wrecked but certain. "Always."

They stayed like that.

Breath tangled. Skin sticky and flushed. Hearts hammering wild and uneven against each other’s ribs.

The water had gone lukewarm. The floor dug into Caitlin’s hip. Kate’s hand curled loose around her wrist, thumb stroking a rhythm she could feel in her throat.

Neither moved.

Neither spoke.

There was nothing to fix. Nothing to take back.

Just the dizzy, trembling fact of being alive, being wanted, being known.

Caitlin buried her face against Kate’s neck and whispered, almost too soft to hear,

"I don't ever want to lose this."

Kate pulled her tighter — breath catching, fingers digging in like a promise.

"You won't," she said.

Caitlin didn’t know if she believed it yet.

But for now — with Kate’s heartbeat under her hand and her own body finally, finally quiet — it was enough.

#wnba#kate martin#caitlin clark#wnba basketball#f/f fanfic#fluff#wnba players#womens basketball#katelin#kate x caitlin#katelinfanwrites#wlw#fanfic#headcanon#smut#wlw smut#uconn wbb#wbb#iowa wbb#iowa hawkeyes#wnba draft#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#paige bueckers#paige x azzi#azzi fudd#paige buckets#iowa women’s basketball#wlw post#wlw nsft

[httpswritings]

The Great War — Katie McCabe x Reader

Additional info: Story inspired Taylor Swift’s The Great War. I’m in my Katie era, but I’m also planning on writing about other players, especially Alexia, which I have like four ideas to write about. We’ll see. I also have a draft of Ruesha x Katie inspired in Moth to a flame by The Weeknd, but I’m doubting about posting it or not. Maybe in the future I’ll write a Caitlin x Katie fic, but I don't have a clear vision of them yet to properly write about them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, throwing up and therapy, sensitive topics overall, avoid reading if you find them triggering. Angsty Katie.

Word count: 1691

Right after Katie ended her relationship with Caitlin Foord, she met Y/N. After some time, they got into a relationship together. They enjoyed every single second of the magical connection they seemed to have. With the passing of time, Katie became more and more anxious about her relationship with Y/N. She doubted she could be what Y/N deserved, even though her girlfriend took her time every day to remind Katie that she's never been as happy in a relationship as she was with her.

«My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked»

Two heartbreaks in such a little time, with both her Ireland National Team's member Ruesha and girlfriend of seven years, and her Arsenal's teammate Caitlin Foord, who was her girlfriend during half a year, made the Irishwoman insecure about her ability to love, to trust, to have a happy fairytale ending. Katie knew these thoughts would damage her relationship with Y/N, but she couldn't help but to spend most of her day tracking every single detail that built her relationship to the obsessive point where she felt absolutely sick of herself.

«Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground»

When she reached her limit, she told Y/N about what was going on. Y/N responded well and helped Katie, and it started well. Really well. But after some time, Katie fell back into a cycle of doubt and anxiety, and those sensations kept growing when she noticed any change in Y/N's mood, as she took it too personally. This made her re-experience in her mind those moments of stress while she was with Ruesha or Caitlin.

«And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur»

Y/N tried to understand her, she tried and tried but eventually, she reached her limit.

“I want to help you. I really do. But I can't continue like this. I'm not Ruesha, nor I am Caitlin. I am aware that being in a new relationship it's difficult for you, so maybe we should take things a bit slower. I don't mean to take a break, but maybe I should go back to my flat. We will move on slower than we did before, but I do think it's the only way to work it out.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Sweet dream was over»

“Yeah, maybe you're right´”, that was Katie's only response. Y/N limited herself to sigh. That night, Katie slept alone in her bed. Her body reacting to the cold sheets and crying herself to sleep.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War»

Sweet morning messages from Y/N, “Good morning, baby. Do good at training today! Love you ;)”

Surprise visits from Y/N, lovely gifts, usually handmade ones, brought Katie to tears as she felt endlessly loved.

«Always remember

Tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie prayed for things to get back as they were during the first months of the relationship. The feeling of her not being a good girlfriend to Y/N haunted her even in her sleep.

«You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone»

Y/N suggested going to a therapist together, but Katie was unsure about that. She thought that if she couldn't quite open to her girlfriend about her feelings and thoughts, she wouldn't be able to talk about what was bothering her to a therapist. Such a huge contrast between the two parts of the relationship that drew them even more apart.

«You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it»

“No, I'm sorry, but I'm not doing this. I feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger about our issues.”

“I know, baby, I was just suggesting it. Let me explain you why. We are aware of having some problems in our relationship, but we don't really know how to get through it. We've tried and things keep getting worse. Maybe talking to someone who's out of our relationship can make this whole situation clearer for the both of us.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

The bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

The burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie took some weeks to meditate Y/N´s idea. She was terrified of being judged by the therapist they would talk to. Even more scared of Y/N realizing she didn't do any good to her. Eventually, she agreed.

“Maybe she's right. People attend therapy sessions. It's normal, Katie. It's normal”, she said to herself.

«It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed»

Katie was not new to getting help from a therapist. She was very open about her mental health in different areas of her life, whether that included football or not. The first time she attended a therapy session was when she was a teenager. It went well, so did the first sessions with Anna, Katie's and Y/N´s psychologist.

Making progress is not a linear process, and making mistakes is a part of the success. Mistakes are a victory in themselves, it means that you're still trying. One day, Katie had an individual session with Anna. Anna felt it was Katie's time to open about her two past relationships; a young adult romance that lasted for more than half a decade and a short but intense romance of one year after a breakup.

It was a slow conversation filled with many pauses from Katie.

“Are you gonna tell Y/N what I'm telling you?”

“No, Katie. This stays between me and you”, said Anna.

As Katie told her her experiences in love, she broke down.

The wall she had built, in order to avoid being hurt and judged, collapsed in that therapy room.

“Don't be afraid to cry. You have nothing to prove to me nor to Y/N. This is about you and your healing process. Y/N will help you and accompany you, but it's crucial for you to work on yourself, especially being a public figure.”

«Your finger on my hair pin triggers»

As Katie arrived home, she unlocked her phone and asked Y/N to come over.

“I've asked Anna, and she told me it was a good initiative and a great way of gaining some independence in our relationship, leaving her out of it for a while. Don't feel obliged to!”

“I am exhausted, baby. Work was something else today, and I’m a little bit irritated because of it, lol. Maybe another time? Love you.”

As Katie was about to spiral, she remembered Anna's advice. She breathed deeply. Y/N was setting her boundaries. She trusted Katie enough to tell her the truth and not to make any excuses. She felt tired from work. Y/N is not mad at her. She didn't do anything wrong. Everything’s okay.

«Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops»

The next day Katie woke up to a text from Y/N.

“Good morning, princess. I had a great sleep, what about you? How did you sleep? I’m up to seeing you today if you feel like it. Love you.”

Still slightly asleep, she smiled.

“I can't wait to see you today, beautiful girl. I had a good sleep, too. Good to have the bed all to myself ;))”

She frowned after sending the text with that joke at the end.

“Breath, Katie, let these useless thoughts pass. Both you and Y/N feel comfortable teasing each other”, said Katie to herself.

“Ha, ha, really funny. We both know you missed having me snoring next to you.”

“How do you know?!?!”

«That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you»

As Katie was preparing herself to go out with Y/N to have lunch, she remembered the night where Y/N left her house.

She doesn't freak out to the thought of it, but instead she does an exercise of introspection. She sees herself in her mind, almost throwing up, completely emotionally depending on her girlfriend while pushing her away and bottling up her feelings.

«We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

The worst was over»

Now she looks at herself in the mirror. She sees herself, Katie, as the woman who knows that she's loved, and she's deserving of being it. The woman who respects her girlfriend’s boundaries and doesn't freak out at the tiniest change that she perceives. The woman who's going to take her girlfriend out to have a good time having lunch, not worrying about anything but what order she's going to have.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

We're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours»

As they arrived home back from the restaurant, Y/N walked towards Katie.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did this. You are doing it every day. I’m so excited to see where our relationship leads us to.”

As Katie sobbed, she softly laughed, “It’s nice to cry sometimes. God, I feel so relieved. I’m so proud of myself, too, of us! Thank you for being there for me, Y/N, thank you. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life as your girlfriend.”

“Even when you'll wake up to my snoring?”

“Especially when I'll wake up to your snoring.”

[marquisecubey]

I have a new dnd character and I’ve been drawing her so much for the past week uuuuuuhhhhhh anyway here’s sister Frenelle I named her after a type of light fixture

(Congratulations! You have clicked on the Read More and you have unlocked her long ass backstory. Enjoy this thing I sent to my dm, which I can only assume that she must have liked because she gave me a free legendary magic item lmfao. Don’t worry if you’re not up to snuff on Eberron specific lore, I catch you up on the important bits.)

The secret child of an elven nobleman and a human scholar, Frenelle Albright was born in the isolated island nation of Aerenal.

Aerenal was not a kind place to anyone who was not a full-blooded elf, and with very few flesh and blood friends to talk to, her mother's wide collection of books became her dearest companions. From an early age, the doctor saw great intelligence and curiosity in her daughter; the tomes she pulled from her mother’s shelves were leagues above her expected reading level, and by the age of eight, she could even hold entire conversations about complex historical topics.

Humans cannot wander freely across Aerenal with no reason, but it was a vital place when it came to Dr. Albright’s research. The goal of the books she was writing was to help the rest of the world gain a greater understanding of Aereni society, and to hopefully encourage them be less afraid of their open practice of necromancy. But sadly, while it was a fantastic place for a researcher, there were also very few opportunities for her bright young daughter to truly flourish and learn at her own pace. So one day, she had a difficult conversation with her daughter: For the next several years, she would stay on the island, while Frenelle would be moving across the sea to attend a boarding school in Fairhaven on her father’s coin.

Frenelle was terrified at first of being alone. She was already a terribly shy girl by nature, and the new city and climate were overwhelming. For the first month, she hardly spoke to anyone at all, not even to her teachers. However, over the next few months as she properly settled into Fairhaven, she was taken aback by how welcoming the new environment was, especially compared to the coldness of her hometown. People actually wanted to talk to her, and they remembered her name. She had peers that she could talk to about all of the math and magic and history that were bottled up for so long, and when she excelled at a topic, she was rewarded instead of scolded.

The most exciting thing about the academy was that she wasn't even the only half-elf there. Or rather, Khoravar as they called themselves, and as they called her too. The main group of khoravar who took her under their wing were a group of rambunctious kids from House Lyrandar, and it was here that she met her best friend, a boy named Leeko.

Leeko was outgoing, kind, and a bit of a hothead, but he was also passionate and smart in the same way she was. He loved all of the flying machines and massive airships that his family was building, and he talked intensely about how excited he was to pilot them one day, proudly showing off the Dragonmark of the Storm on his right hand. Despite them seeming like total opposites at a glance, the two couldn't have been closer. Every time they met up to try and study for classes, they'd end up talking for hours on end about everything from old magic to new technology. For the first time in her life, Frenelle wasn't alone.

Each year, she would return home to her mother for a couple of weeks, but as she continued to thrive in Fairview, she began to notice that the doctor was growing more isolated and depressed each year back on the island of the dead. Eventually, she was able to convince her mother to leave behind her studies, coming home with her daughter, never to return.

Frenelle quickly rose to become one of the top students in her class, graduating from her boarding school with honours and moving on to study divination magic and history at the University of Wynarn. By then, Leeko had left for the island of Stormhome to train as a pilot, but the two continued to write long, cascading letters to one another every single week.

Her unconventional background gave her a unique perspective when it came to her studies at Wynarn. This was all well and good, until it led to her constantly interrupting professors during lectures to question their biases. This was especially true when it came to the taboo field of necromancy, which she had grown up seeing as a very normal thing in her culture. Eventually, however, she quickly grew wise to the fact that if she wanted to succeed as an academic, she would need to suck up to her less worldly professors every now and again. After all, if she wanted to make her point of view known, she should attempt to hear them out as well.

While working on one of her Master's degrees, Frenelle's work ethic and passion managed to attract the attention of a temple of Aureon in Arcanix, where she was offered a position as a novice. She was hesitant to quit her studies at first, but at the urging of Leeko, who just had gotten a job as an air shuttle pilot at the floating towers, she dropped everything and accepted the massive opportunity.

In fact, the chance to see Leeko again may have been her biggest reason for moving to Arcanix, because it turns out, she had started to develop romantic feelings for him. And, as she would later come to find, he felt the exact same way. She would even learn that he had planned on marrying her, which was no small deal of course. After all, Leeko wasn’t simply just her best friend, he was an heir to House Lyrandar, the Half-Elven dynasty who controlled the rapidly growing industry of air travel across the civilized world, using the Dragonmark of the Storm that ran in their blood.

A proper, pure Dragonmark gives a person tremendous power. Most importantly to those in the twelve Dragonmarked houses, it is a predictable power. However, the same cannot be said of the unpredictable power that results when people from two different houses produce a child. Unpredictability is volatility, and volatility is danger. For the sake and the preservation of society, all marriages and sexual relations between those with different Dragonmarks are strictly prohibited.

Frenelle didn't actually notice her mark for the first few days. She had figured it was some benign skin condition, a small rash around her eye. When it didn't go away, she went to see one of the healers at the temple, who laughed when she said she had no idea what it was. When he realized she was being serious, he explained that she was a foundling, a Dragonmarked person with no previous ties to a house.

He explained that her Dragonmark of Detection was an incredible thing.

With the power of her newly manifested mark, Frenelle became an obvious standout among the rest of the clergy in ways she hadn't even thought were possible. She could look into people's thoughts, see entirely new creatures from beyond the material world. She could protect people from danger.

The royal family of Aundair was in search of a governess for their children, but not just any regular teacher would do. They needed a cleric, a person who could embody the very will of Aureon, the god of magic, knowledge, and the law itself. Their job wouldn't be just to teach, but to physically protect the future of the kingdom. And, who in the world could possibly be better for that than the gifted foundling who just landed on the steps of Arcanix?

Frenelle walked past the cockpit as she boarded the air shuttle. The pilot smiled as he called her name and waved with a childlike excitement. She lowered her head. Words that he’d never get to speak reverberated through her skull. She felt his heart sink like a rock through her own chest. He wanted to marry her.

Vows of celibacy aren't necessarily a requirement for becoming a cleric. However, many choose to take them on in an effort to avoid mortal matters clouding their judgment. It's not as though she had much of a choice in the matter. After all, when the queen who funded your schools and the god who bestowed you these powers give you a call to action, to uphold and protect the law, you listen.

So, as a cleric with a high stakes mission, Frenelle simply chose to take that mission very seriously. And you see, it's actually fine. She's fine. They're fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. They’re fine. They're all fine. She's fine. It’s fine.