#i hate this school and it's 'fix it yourself' vibe

[followsfrankiep]

Candied Prayers

Johnny Davis (Bikeriders) x Reader

Summary: Johnny Davis is struggling to make amends with the complications of his marriage. While abiding his wife's wishes, finds himself drawn to you, his kids' Catholic pre school teacher.

Word count: 7.2k (its supposed to be a one shot but yeah, I cant help it)

Trigger Warning: teasing, oral sex, abuse, violence, seduction, cheating.

You remember meeting Johnny for the first time. It was one of those mornings that felt heavy, even as the sun barely broke the horizon. Johnny’s face was a canvas of frustration and fatigue, the signs of a marriage on the brink. Betty was insistent on their kids growing up in a "proper" environment, which meant this Catholic preschool a few miles away. Johnny couldn’t wrap his head around it—why not a closer school? But he went along with it, clinging to any hope of fixing what was broken between them.

Religion wasn’t Johnny's thing. The whole idea of gods and prayers seemed like a façade to him. Yet here he was, at the threshold of the preschool, dreading every second of it. He hated being there, in a place that meant nothing to him, just another compromise in a long list of sacrifices. As he stepped inside, he wondered if any of this would really matter in the end.

You remember that morning vividly. As Johnny stepped through the preschool doors, his presence was impossible to ignore. Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a dark blue denim jacket over a red shirt, he had this rugged vibe that screamed resilience. His piercing blue eyes took in everything with a mix of curiosity and quiet defiance. Fine lines etched his face, each one telling a story, and his dark hair was neatly combed, adding to his rough-hewn charm.

You stood at the entrance, dressed in modest Catholic clothing—a simple blouse and skirt. Your long, raven-colored hair framed your face, creating a striking contrast to Johnny's imposing figure. As his eyes swept over you, it felt like he was measuring you up, taking in every detail. His presence made you know that he was there. You tried to steady your breathing, reminding yourself of your duty to give him a tour around the school.

Johnny’s gaze lingered at the rosary you were holding for a moment before he broke the silence. “Hey, are you a nun or somethin’?” The bluntness in his voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the entrance hall.

You shook your head, trying to keep your composure despite the intimidation you felt. “No, I'm not a nun.”

Johnny's eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed you, his expression almost gruff. “You look too young to be a nun.”

There was a pause, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You just smiled and brushed his comment off. Johnny was there to check out the school, and you were assigned to give him a tour. “I’ve been assigned to give you a tour around the school. Please, follow me.” Your voice wavered slightly, but you forced a polite smile.

As you led Johnny through the halls, the tension between you was palpable. Every step you took, you could feel his eyes boring into you, scrutinizing every detail, and it was clear Johnny didn’t want to be there. He grunted occasionally, his demeanor suggesting he had better places to be. As you showed him around the preschool, you talked about the various classrooms and the activities the kids enjoyed.

Walking through the halls, Johnny couldn’t help but notice the religious symbols and decor. Crucifixes adorned the walls, and there were statues of saints placed at various corners. The classrooms had colorful illustrations of biblical stories, and there was a serene yet disciplined vibe throughout the school.

“This here’s the play area,” you said, pointing to a group of kids building with blocks. “We encourage creativity and teamwork here.”

Johnny barely glanced at the kids, his eyes wandering elsewhere. You noticed Johnny's rugged appearance—faded jeans that fit him well and jacket that had clearly seen better days. Back in his mind, Johnny disapproved of what he saw, thinking it was all hypocritical – a facade that didn’t align with his beliefs.

When you reached the classroom, you continued, “In here, we have our reading corner. It’s designed to foster a love for books and learning.”

You noticed Johnny’s hands were calloused, hinting at a life of hard work and rough play. He grunted, clearly uninterested. “Not bad, I guess.” He thought it was yet another part of the facade.

You then pointed to a small altar at the front of the classroom. “We also have daily prayers with the kids, fostering their spiritual growth.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The idea of imposing faith on young minds seemed almost laughable to him.

As the tour came to an end, you turned to face him, only to be caught off guard. Johnny was already lighting a cigarette, right there inside the school premises. You noticed how his fingers steadied the lighter, a small moment of calm amid his stormy presence. Your initial reaction was to tell him off, but his intimidating aura kept you silent. Nuns passing by glared at you, expecting you to enforce the school's rules.

“Are your kids goin' to be studying here?” you asked, trying to divert the tension.

Johnny exhaled a puff of smoke, his tone nonchalant. “Yeah, whatever.”

You watched him take another drag from his cigarette, feeling the weight of tense silence between you. Despite his tough exterior, something told you there was more to Johnny than met the eye.

-

A few days later, you found yourself standing at the threshold of a decision. Kathy, your old friend, had invited you to join her at a bar. You hesitated, knowing your partner disapproved of you going out with friends and drinking. But there she was, right outside your house, seated at the back of Benny’s motorcycle, with another guy ready to chauffeur you for the night. The roar of the engine and the thrill of the night beckoned you.

You glanced back at your partner, sprawled on the couch, drunk and snoring loudly. The sight of him, lost in his stupor, made your heart ache with a mix of frustration and resignation. The weight of his disapproval hung over you like a dark cloud, but the allure of freedom and the promise of a night out with Kathy was too tempting to resist.

With a sigh, you made your decision. You stepped out of the house, the cool night air hitting your face as you approached Kathy and Benny. The excitement in Kathy’s eyes was infectious, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline as you climbed onto the motorcycle. The engine roared to life, and as you sped away into the night, you felt a sense of liberation, a fleeting escape from the confines of your everyday life.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Kathy urged, grinning. “You deserve a night out.”

You smiled half-heartedly, “Alright, alright, I’m comin’. Just this once.”

As the motorcycle sped through the dark streets, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. The night was filled with possibilities, both thrilling and dangerous. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this decision might lead to something unexpected, something that could change everything.

The city lights blurred as you sped through the streets, and despite the nagging worry, the thrill of the unknown ahead filled you with a cautious anticipation. Tonight was just beginning, and anything could happen.

Upon arriving at the bar, you were taken aback by the lively atmosphere. The place was packed with Vandals—people drinking, smoking, and playing pool. The heavy bass of rock music thrummed through the air, creating an almost surreal vibe.

Dressed differently that night, you wore a pair of sexy jeans and a red checkered shirt with a few buttons undone at the top and the hem of your shirt tied up, showing off your figure. Black heeled boots completed your look. Kathy teased you about letting loose and not having your rosary around.

“Look at ya, all dressed up,” Kathy chuckled, nudging you playfully. “Who knew you had such a wild side?”

You blushed a bit, retorting, “Don't ya get used to it. I'm still the same person, ya know.”

As you joined the crowd, the energy of the bar enveloped you. Johnny couldn't help but notice you. He was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, when his eyes caught sight of you. His gaze lingered, a flicker of recognition sparking in his piercing blue eyes. He watched as you held a cue stick, walking around the pool table, preparing for your turn. His eyes followed your every move, a mix of curiosity and something more intense.

The game of pool became heated, and the moment you tied your hair up into a messy bun, it clicked for him—you were his kids' Catholic preschool teacher. He smirked at the realization, the irony not lost on him.

“Always the quiet ones,” he muttered under his breath, amused.

Johnny continued to watch you, his gaze unwavering. You felt the weight of his stare, a mix of curiosity and something more intense. The air seemed to thicken as his eyes followed your every move.

Curious, Johnny turned to Kathy and asked gruffly, “Ya seem to know her well. What's her story?”

Kathy leaned in, her voice hushed but animated. “Sweetest person you'll ever meet. But she’s had it rough. Lost her kid two years back. Had him when she was young, and then her folks disowned her. Now, she’s stuck with that deadbeat partner of hers.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, “Partner? Why not say husband?”

Kathy scoffed, “That jerk never married her. Normally, she wouldn’t even come out like this. It’s a miracle she joined us tonight.”

Johnny glanced at you, still playing pool, intrigued. “Pretty brave of her, comin' out tonight. She don’t seem like the type.”

Kathy smirked, “You're right. She’s usually more reserved. But everyone’s got their layers, right?” Then she added, eyeing Johnny knowingly, “Ya seem interested, Johnny. Forgettin' about your wife?”

Johnny smirked, dragging another puff from his cigarette. “Don't worry, Kathy. I ain’t askin' for that reason. Just recognized her as my kids' teacher.”

Kathy shook her head and smiled, “Good. Just lookin' out for ya.”

As Kathy continued to talk about you, Johnny listened intently, never taking his eyes off you. He watched as you bent over the pool table, carefully aiming your stick at the cue ball. You seemed focused and in control, a stark contrast to the reserved teacher he knew. When you pocketed a ball, your charming smile and laugh captivated him. There was something magnetic about you tonight, a part he hadn’t seen before.

Meanwhile, your pool game was going well. You moved around the table with ease, making calculated shots and enjoying the friendly competition. Benny was there at the pool table, laughing at your unexpected play. “You’re killin’ it. Who knew you could play pool like a pro?”

You smiled, feeling a sense of liberation. “Guess I’ve got a few surprises up my sleeve."

Johnny couldn't resist asking Kathy more about you. “You said she lost her son... How’d she cope?”

Kathy sighed, her expression somber. “It wasn’t easy. She buried herself in her work at the preschool, and her faith kept her goin’. The woman don't get outta her house without that damn rosary." Kathy chuckled, remembering how you often whisper prayers when you are on the road. "But nights like this, where she can let loose a bit, are rare.” she continued.

He leaned back, his eyes never straying far from you. The more Johnny learned about you, the more complex and fascinating you appeared.

As you took a drag from the cigarette Benny handed you, you felt Johnny's gaze. His thoughts were swirling; he found it hard to reconcile the disciplined, devout teacher with the carefree woman enjoying her night out. What other layers did you have hidden beneath the surface?

The game was almost coming to an end, and you were about to win. You took a swig of your beer bottle, savoring the moment. Suddenly, Johnny appeared in front of you, his presence catching you off guard.

“Moonlightin’, huh?” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

You almost spit your drink but managed to swallow it just in time. Wiping the excess beer from your lips, you looked up at him, surprised. Johnny found the gesture unexpectedly sexy.

“Mr. Davis,” you said, trying to regain your composure. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He chuckled, taking a step closer. “Call me Johnny. I’m the president of this club.” He leaned against the pool table, his eyes never leaving yours. “And yeah, didn’t expect to see ya here either.” He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

You smiled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. “Guess so.”

It was your turn to hit the cue, but Johnny’s sudden appearance threw you off your game. You took a long drag from your cigarette, trying to steady your nerves. Johnny noticed your sudden nervousness and offered to help.

“Need a hand?” he asked, stepping closer.

You nodded, feeling a bit flustered. Johnny moved behind you, his presence warm and steady. He placed his hands over yours, guiding you in aiming the cue stick. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “Threw ya off your game, huh?"

With Johnny’s assistance, you aimed and hit the cue ball, successfully pocketing your last ball. The people cheered at your victory, while some others lost their bet, some others won. Still in the same position, you turned your head slightly and found yourself inches away from Johnny’s face. Your eyes locked, and you could feel each other’s warm breath.

“Thanks,” you whispered, not moving an inch.

Johnny’s other hand found its way to your waist. “No problem,” he said casually, his gaze lingering on your naturally red lips, glistening under the dim lights in this pool table. His thoughts were fighting with his mind about wanting to have a taste of that.

“Spend most of my time here. People might seem rough, but they’re good guys. We look out for each other.” Johnny said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and gruffness.

“Oh, I see,” you said, a teasing tone in your voice. You caught him staring and instinctively bit your lower lip. “Having the president of the Vandals at our school is quite an honor.”

Johnny chuckled, riding the joke. “Yeah, I’m sure they’d be thrilled to know.”

The both of you shared a laugh, the tension easing slightly as you stared into each other’s eyes. Moving away awkwardly, you took another drag from your cigarette.

“Please don’t tell this to the school’s headmaster. I will get fired. They are very strict about this.”

Johnny shrugged, “I don’t care about any of that. Your secret’s safe with me.”

You gave him a grateful smile, a blend of relief and excitement. Without realizing it, the two of you struck a conversation over cigarettes and beer, moving to his table. Johnny’s rough exterior started to soften as the night went on, and the tension between you grew thicker with each passing moment.

"So, what’s my kids teacher doing at a bar like this?” Johnny asked, his tone playful, as he leaned casually against the table.

You took a sip of your beer, smiling. “Kathy dragged me here. Besides, it’s nice to see a different side of life.”

Johnny chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. “Guessing this ain’t your natural habitat, huh?”

“No, not exactly,” you admitted, biting your lip again. Johnny’s gaze lingered on your lips, and you could feel the intensity of his stare.

You began to take a liking to Johnny. After a few bottles, the modest Catholic preschool teacher shed her reserved demeanor, becoming more playful and bold. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “So, where’s your wife tonight?”

Johnny seemed to become tense at the topic, looking away momentarily. He shifted his weight, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table. “She’s around… we’re hittin’ a rough patch, y'know?” he said, feeling a twinge of unease. He wasn’t sure why he was explaining to you, but he wanted to be honest.

You sensed that he was uncomfortable discussing it, but a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. You took it as an opportunity to pull out a lollipop from your back pocket, slowly ripping off its plastic covering. Johnny’s gaze followed your movements, his eyes widening slightly as you placed the lollipop in your mouth, sucking it while staring at him. The round shape formed in your cheeks, and you could see the old man taking a deep breath when you did. You continued licking the tip of your lollipop slowly, still not breaking your eye contact, and smirking at him after. He couldn’t help but notice how this playful side of you made him feel something he hadn’t felt for a long time.

Johnny shook his head disapprovingly, though you noticed his left hand forming a fist and biting it, as if fighting his urges. You batted your eyes playfully and asked, “Ya want a pop?” while licking your lollipop. He admired how you had taken down your reserved demeanor, revealing a lively and confident woman. It was hard for him to reconcile you with the teacher persona you upheld at the preschool.

The old man took a deep sigh and smirked, dragging another puff of his cigarette. “Not tonight,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. Internally, he questioned his own control and why he was holding back when every fiber in his being wanted to give in.

You both continued to talk, finding comfort in each other’s company, as the night drew out with a mix of excitement, laughter, and unspoken desires. Johnny felt a strange pull towards you, sensing there was much more to uncover beneath the surface. He realized he enjoyed your company. Much more than he expected.

As the night wore on, the bar began to empty out. Benny called Johnny out for a ride. It was already midnight, and you were supposed to head home. You were walking towards the exit alongside Kathy when Benny asked if you wanted to experience a ride on his bike. Kathy was already seated at the back of Benny’s motorcycle.

“Come on, give it a try,” Benny urged, a mischievous grin on his face.

You respectfully declined, smiling. “I’ll pass tonight. I’m just gonna walk home.” With that, you began to make your way out of the bar.

The Vandals left for their midnight ride, or so you thought, when you suddenly noticed Johnny riding his bike slowly beside you.

“Not joinin’ ‘em?” you asked, surprised.

He shrugged, a casual smile on his face. “Didn’t want my kids’ teacher goin' missin’ tomorrow.” He handed you a helmet. “Hop on, I’ll give ya a ride home.”

You paused, taking a moment to admire Johnny’s appearance. He looked rugged and effortlessly cool, the street light glinting off his leather jacket. There was a certain intensity in his eyes, softened only by the faint smile on his lips.

After a moment of hesitation, you agreed and hitched onto his bike. “Hold on tight,” Johnny said over his shoulder as he revved the engine. The bike roared to life, and soon you were speeding through the empty streets. The wind whipped around you, making you instinctively embrace Johnny’s waist.

At first, you were scared, your heart pounding in your chest. But as the ride continued, the fear morphed into exhilaration. You inhaled his scent, a mix of leather and cologne, which stirred unexpected feelings within you.

Johnny glanced at you in his side mirror, a smirk playing on his lips. “Wanna take a detour?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the wind.

You nodded, excitement bubbling up inside you. He took you to a quiet lakeside bench, the night air cool and crisp. The gentle ripples of the lake mirrored the stars above, creating a serene yet eerie scene. You shivered, the cold seeping into your bones. Both of you dismounted and walked closer to the lakeside, the sound of water lapping gently against the shore. Johnny lit a cigarette, offering you one, which you accepted. As you both smoked in comfortable silence, a sense of tranquility settled in.

Noticing your discomfort, Johnny took off his Vandals jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, this’ll keep ya warm.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling the jacket closer around you. The two of you sat in silence, staring at the dark lake and smoking.

“So, what do ya think of this place?” Johnny asked, breaking the silence. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, but you could sense the curiosity behind his words.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, your voice soft. “Nice to have a spot like this to escape to.”

Johnny nodded, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, come here to clear my head sometimes.”

Johnny couldn’t shake the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. Sitting here with you, a stranger in many ways, felt oddly intimate and comforting. He was used to the chaos and noise of his everyday life, but in this quiet moment, you brought a sense of tranquility he hadn’t felt in a long time. The fact that someone he barely knew could stir such deep feelings—comfort, curiosity, excitement—was both bewildering and exhilarating.

“So,” you began, your voice playful yet curious. “What does the president of the Vandals do at a lakeside spot like this?”

Johnny chuckled, taking a drag from his cigarette and exhaling slowly. “Besides escaping the chaos? Sometimes I just sit and think. Helps me keep perspective, ya know?” He flicked the ash off his cigarette, his eyes shifting to the water as he spoke.

You nodded, understanding. “Glad to know even the president needs a break sometimes.” You pulled Johnny’s jacket tighter around you, feeling its warmth.

Johnny grinned, enjoying the banter. “Yeah, even presidents need a breather.” He took another drag from his cigarette and then turned to face you, his expression softening. He hesitated, then added, “I don’t usually share this spot with anyone.”

You felt a flutter of warmth at his words. With a playful glint in your eyes, you teased, “Feeling special already.”

Johnny smiled, a genuine, boyish smile that reached his eyes. He took a step closer, his hand brushing against yours. The contact was brief, but it sent a spark of electricity through you.

As the tension built, Johnny couldn't help but lean in closer. You both sat down on a nearby bench, the moonlight casting a soft glow on the water. Your legs brushed against his, and you felt a spark of electricity. You playfully nudged him with your knee, and he responded by placing his hand on your inner thigh, caressing it gently. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his touch ignited a spark in you. He knew what he was doing as well, each stroke comes up higher and higher.

Feeling bolder, you swung your legs over his thighs, positioning yourself closer to him, opening your legs just a little. Johnny's hands continued to caress your thighs, his touch sending waves of warmth through you. You caught him off guard then your fingers started fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

As you talked, your fingers instinctively reached for the buttons of his shirt, toying with them absentmindedly. Johnny's eyes widened in surprise, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched you. He was intrigued by the way your fingers moved, gently tracing the fabric and occasionally undoing and redoing the buttons. It was a small, seemingly insignificant gesture, but it held a different meaning for both of you.

As your fingers continued to toy with the buttons, Johnny felt a sense of comfort and affection wash over him. He found himself captivated by the simple act, the way your touch show how much you are contemplating whether to act upon what you have been feeling right now, or not.

Your other hand slid to the back of his head, your fingers lightly grazing his hair and scalp. Your nails gently teased the back of his head, sending a ripple of electricity through him. He closed his eyes for a little bit when you started tracing small circles with your nails. His hands reached the top of your inner thigh, and his eyes opened when his finger grazed your warm and wet cunt. You two wanted something more, but neither of you made a move to act on it.

Johnny looked at you, his voice low and rough, “There’s a certain irony to this, ya know? Seeing ya all holier than thou during the day, and now you’re here, teasing the hell outta me.” He couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between the two sides of you.

You smirked, leaning in closer. “You don’t like this version?” you asked playfully, your lips just inches from his. Your heart raced as you watched his reaction, feeling a thrill at the power you held in this moment.

Johnny's gaze was intense as he replied, “Oh, I like it. But you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” His finger was still grazing your damp jeans, sending shivers up your spine. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, drawing you in. His eyes darkened with desire, and you could see the internal struggle as he fought to maintain control. Your touch was electric, and he couldn't help but be captivated by your playful and bold demeanor.

You simply hummed, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you brushed his lips with yours ever so gently back and forth before pulling away. Johnny’s breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly, but he managed to maintain his composure. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a mix of desire and restraint. Your heart raced, and you felt a rush of excitement at the intensity of the moment. Johnny's hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

As he pulled you closer, Johnny's head moved slowly to your neck. He inhaled your scent deeply, his breath warm against your skin.

“Guess we should probably get ya home,” His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, his voice low and rough, carrying a hint of reluctant acceptance. It was the sensible thing to do, even if every fiber of his being wanted to stay.

You nodded, feeling the same pull but respecting the boundaries. “Yeah, probably.”

Johnny helped you back onto the bike, the closeness rekindling the same energy between you. The ride continued in comfortable silence, both lost in thoughts and emotions. It was hard. The amount of self control you two had not to mount each other right then and there at the lakeside. You thought to yourself, this man's married and you're his kids' teacher. Aside from that, there's also a person waiting for you at home.

When Johnny finally pulled up to your place, you unwrapped your arms from around him, but lingered a little longer. “Thanks for the ride, Johnny,” you said, a hint of warmth and playfulness in your voice.

Johnny smiled, his eyes lingering on you. “Anytime.”

As you took a step towards your door, Johnny’s voice stopped you. “Hey, try offering me a pop again, and I might take you up on that offer someday,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You smirked, a playful glint in your eyes. “We’ll see about that,” you teased before slowly turning and stepping inside your home, the night’s events playing on repeat in your mind.

-

Thinking about last night’s unexpected encounter, Johnny felt a spark that had long been absent from his life. The playful teasing and electric connection made him look forward to the next day in a way he hadn't in years. He decided to swing by the preschool to pick up his kids, a task he once dreaded but now found himself eagerly anticipating.

Arriving at the preschool, Johnny could already tell that something was different. One of the substitute teachers greeted him at the entrance. “Hey there,” Johnny said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “Is she around today?”

The substitute teacher shook her head, a hint of concern in her voice. “She called in sick today. Is there something I can help you with?”

Johnny's heart sank a little. He had hoped to see her, to maybe catch a glimpse of the woman he shared that surprising night with. Despite staying perfectly composed, he couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. “Nah, it’s nothing urgent,” he replied, trying to mask his unease. “Thanks, anyway.”

As he turned to leave, skepticism gnawed at Johnny. She was more than fine when he left last night. His thoughts drifted back to Kathy's words about her household situation. He couldn’t help but wonder if something was going on, but he decided not to act on it. It wasn’t his place to intervene.

Two days later, Johnny tried his luck again. The memory of the electric encounter with you was fresh in his mind. He wanted to see you, hell, he was craving to have you by himself again.

It was a hot day, and he could feel sweat trickling down his back. As he arrived at the preschool in his truck, he noticed you wearing long sleeves despite the heat. He couldn't understand why Catholics had to wear such clothing in this weather.

He was there to pick up his kids and felt a mix of anticipation and apprehension. When you saw him, the memory of that night came flooding back. Unable to express what you felt, you forced a smile and greeted him timidly. “Hey there,” you said, trying to keep your tone even.

Johnny sensed your hesitation immediately. “Hey, ya weren't here yesterday. Everythin' alright?”

You tried to keep your answers short and vague. “Yeah.”

Johnny noticed your unease and stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in concern. “Ya sure? You seem... different today,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled weakly, trying to come up with an excuse. “Oh, it's nothing. Just a bit tired. I should probably get back to my classroom.”

As you turned to leave, Johnny reached out and gently held your hand to stop you. The pressure wasn’t hard, but you winced in pain. Johnny's eyes widened with worry. "What’s goin’ on?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced another smile, trying to mask the pain. “Yeah, just a bit sore. I’ll be fine.”

Johnny couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He gently pulled back your sleeve, revealing bruises and scratches on your arms. His heart sank, and his blood boiled with anger and worry. “What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice trembling with concern.

You didn't answer, just looked away, avoiding his gaze. Johnny realized that your partner probably did this to you. “Did he do this to ya?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of anger and worry.

You immediately came to your partner's defense, unreasonably justifying his actions. “It’s not what you think. He didn’t mean to... it’s just... things got out of ha-”

Johnny's disapproval was evident. “This ain’t right,” he said, his voice firm. “Ya don’t deserve this.”

As he spoke, Johnny instinctively reached out to tuck a strand of your black hair behind your ear. But you instinctively moved away, a haunted look in your eyes. Johnny's heart ached even more seeing your reaction. He understood that your fear ran deep.

“Listen,” Johnny said softly, his voice gentle but resolute. “I get it, it’s complicated. Imma take care of this, alright?”

You looked away, unable to respond. As you walked back to your classroom, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Johnny watched you go, feeling a mix of concern and determination to find out what was really going on.

Johnny hated abusers, despising the idea of any man laying hands on a woman. While driving home, he couldn’t shake off the image of your bruises. He knew he had to do something, but for now, he focused on his kids, he had to get them home.

You never meant for him to see those marks, and now you weren’t sure what would happen next. While sitting down on your classroom's desk, you gently massages your temples, Johnny’s reaction and the anger you saw in his eyes frustrated you.

-

When you got home, you found your partner with a black eye and a beaten-up face, limping while loading all his things into his car. Your heart raced, and confusion and concern washed over you. "What happened?" you asked, your voice trembling.

He turned to face you, his eyes filled with anger. "What do you think happened?" he snapped. "You think you can just live a double life and get away with it?"

Fear crept up your spine. "I-I don't understand," you stammered.

He stepped towards you, hand raised, ready to strike, but something held him back—a flicker of hesitation. Instead, he grabbed your face forcefully. "You pretentious whore." he spat, his voice filled with venom. "Carrying a rosary during the day and a biker’s whore at night." he spat.

You were horrified, unable to comprehend the sudden outburst. Tears welled up in your eyes. "Please, just let me explain—" you began, but he cut you off.

"No," he said sharply, releasing you. "I don't want to hear it."

He turned away and got himself into the car, his movements filled with rage. You stood there, frozen, a whirlwind of emotions in your mind—pain, fear, hurt, isolation.

Watching him drove away, the initial shock and pain began to subside, replaced by a strange, almost manic laughter. The absurdity of the situation, the irony of your newfound freedom, hit you all at once. You laughed through your tears, a mix of relief and disbelief. You had been held hostage by your abusive relationship for so long that the idea of being alone, of being free, felt surreal.

---

After your partner left, you didn't go to work for a few days. Johnny, worried after not seeing you at the preschool, decided to check on you. When he arrived outside your house, he found it eerily quiet, almost empty. There was no sign of you around. He knocked on the door, calling out your name, but no one answered. He circled around, looking for any indications of where you might have gone. Concern gnawed at him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Johnny decided to head back to the club, hoping someone there might have heard from you. As he entered, the familiar faces of Brucie, Cal, Cockroach, and Wahoo greeted him. "Hey Johnny, you lookin' for someone?" Brucie asked, noticing the concern etched on Johnny's face.

"Yeah," Johnny replied, his voice filled with worry. "She hasn't been at work, and her house is empty. Any of ya guys hear from her?"

The group exchanged glances, shaking their heads. "Nah, man," Cal said, "we haven't heard a thing. You expecting trouble?"

"I dunno," Johnny admitted, lighting a cigarette. "But somethin' doesn't feel right."

As Johnny paced, trying to figure out his next move, Kathy approached him, already knowing why he was concerned. "Johnny, you don't need to go huntin' for her. She's dealin' with it on her own. She didn’t follow that bastard."

Johnny turned to her, his jaw set and his eyes steely. "Ya sure about that, Kathy?" he demanded.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Kathy replied firmly. "She'll reach out when she's ready. Right now, she needs time."

Kathy then looked Johnny straight in the eyes. "And Johnny, don't forget about Betty. Your wife. Ya married, remember? It's time to let the girl handle her own life."

Johnny's expression hardened, but the worry in his eyes was undeniable. He took a deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. "I ain't forgettin' about Betty," he said, his voice low and steady.

Kathy sighed, knowing Johnny's stubbornness all too well. "Just don't do anything you'll regret," she warned, her voice softening slightly. The older guy gave a curt nod.

Johnny was back at his old routine again. He had heard at the preschool that you had handed in your resignation letter. Without you there, it felt like he was on autopilot, like going through the motions without purpose.

The club was packed, and Johnny was quietly observing the crowd, dragging on a smoke. He let his men have their fun, his mind elsewhere. As you walked behind him, he didn’t notice until you slipped into the seat beside him. Johnny looked up, taken aback by your new look. You had cut your black hair into a long bob and wore a plain fitted white tank top with low-waisted black jeans and high-heeled boots.

Johnny's eyes followed every movement, still grasping your presence. "Ya missin' for days," Johnny remarked, still awed. "Where'd ya disappear to?"

You took the lit cigarette from his fingers, running it across your lips before taking a puff. "Needed some time to figure things out," you replied, exhaling smoke. "Thought a change might help."

Johnny nodded, observing you closely. "Looks like it did. Ya look different."

You smiled, your eyes meeting his as you reached out and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "I've been thinkin' about you while I was away," you admitted, your voice soft yet playful. "Couldn't get you outta my mind."

Johnny's eyes flickered with amusement and curiosity, feeling a warmth spread through him. He loved the way you played with his buttons, a gesture that always made him feel like there was a special connection between you two. "Oh yeah? What about me had ya thinkin' so much?"

You shrugged casually, still toying with his buttons. "I don't know.. you're different when I had you alone." you teased, the hidden meaning clear between you two.

Johnny chuckled, leaning in slightly. The way your fingers danced on his buttons was driving him wild. "Well, sounds like I left quite an impression."

You smirked, stretching your body and arms before heading towards the pool table. "Wanna play a game? I could use some practice," you said, the challenge evident in your tone.

Johnny followed, intrigued by your new demeanor. As you lined up your shot, he leaned against the table, his eyes never leaving you. "Ya any good?" he asked, playful challenge in his tone.

"I'm decent," you replied with a smirk. "Wanna make a bet?"

Johnny chuckled, matching your playfulness. He couldn't help but admire your confidence. "Alright, what's the wager?"

You leaned in, your voice low and teasing. The anticipation was electric. "If I win, you tell me what you're really thinkin'. If you win, I'll owe ya one."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, accepting the challenge. The thought of winning this bet excited him. "Deal."

You bent over the table, aiming your cue stick on the ball. Johnny's eyes roamed over your figure, appreciating the view. Noticing his gaze, you gave him a playful wink before striking the ball. Johnny couldn't help but chuckle, enjoying the playful interaction.

The game progressed with playful innuendos and teasing banter, the tension between you and Johnny growing with each shot. Johnny occasionally slipped his hand on your waist, feeling the warmth of your skin through your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He placed soft kisses on your hair, the scent of your shampoo filling his senses.

At one point, you leaned in to whisper something into his ear because the noise from the club was too much. "You drive me crazy," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. As you did, you couldn't resist nibbling his earlobe a little, earning a low growl from him. "You're playin' with fire here," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The feel of your lips on his ear sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he found himself wanting more.

When it was Johnny's turn to hit the cue ball, he turned to you with a playful grin. "Gimme a kiss for good luck," he said, tapping his cheek. He could feel the anticipation building inside him.

You obliged, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, chuckling at his playfulness. It seemed like you were a couple for a long time now, the chemistry between you undeniable. The Vandals' men noticed your interactions with their boss, but they kept their opinions to themselves. It was the first time in so many years they'd seen Johnny this happy.

Despite your best efforts, Johnny's skill and experience shone through, and he emerged victorious. He leaned back against the table with a triumphant smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction. "Looks like ya owe me one," he said, satisfaction in his tone.

You laughed softly, trying to hide your disappointment. "Alright, Johnny, what do ya want?"

Johnny's eyes lit up with a mischievous spark. He loved the playful dynamic you two shared. "How 'bout ya offer me a pop?" he suggested, referring to the lollipop you had given him before.

You sighed playfully, a hint of disappointment in your voice. "Too bad I didn't think about bringin' any," you replied, enjoying the banter.

Johnny took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling smoke slowly. "Maybe there's some in the supplies closet," he said casually yet playfully.

You knew what he meant, and a smirk formed on your lips. "Maybe," you replied, anticipation in your voice.

With a shared look, you lead him the way and you both headed towards the supplies closet.

Kathy, who was sitting at the bar, noticed the two of you and paused, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. Her silent judgment was unmistakable, and it made Johnny's resolve falter for a moment.

As you reached the door, Johnny opened it and gestured for you to go inside first. You stepped into the small, dimly lit room and Johnny followed closely behind, quietly closing the door behind him. He locked it with a soft click, ensuring your privacy. You have been holding back for quite a while now, it's about time you have him alone again.

Wasting no time, you pushed Johnny against the door, his eyes locking onto yours. You got down on your knees and swiftly removed his belt and unzipped his pants, revealing his fully erected cock in front of you. You began with long, slow licks from top to bottom, then teased slightly with your tongue on the head. When you finally took him all in, you just kept going slowly and moaned lightly with every stroke.

"Fuck." Johnny muttered under his breath, gently holding your head moving up and down beneath him.

As he stood there, with his eyes closed, feeling the waves of pleasure mixed with guilt and desire to have you more. The weight of his actions weighed heavily on his conscience, but the pull towards you was too strong to resist. When he first saw you, you were holding on to your dear rosary. You used to kneel in prayer; now, you're kneeling in front of him

He silently prayed to Jesus, if he does exist, to forgave you both as you have sinned.

[chaoswillcalmusdown]

finally marked all the 8th grade maths tests and like. i've only just met them this august but 1 of them has 0 correct answers. 0 points out of like 50. i have no fucking clue what is happening in there. i have no clue how he's gotten to the second to last year of compulsory education and he doesn't have a standing appointment with a special teacher

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 1 🍒

“Austin”

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2K

Summary: new to the city, you befriend Sarah, and in a time of need you befriend her dad Joel

WARNINGS: this particular chapter is safe for everyone to read, but future chapters will contain smut; mild cursing, little bit of flirting; age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35); reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race specified and will not be throughout the series; until otherwise specified, this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, no use of y/n.

Author's Note: this was the first fic I ever wrote, after months of lurking on AO3. It's one of my favorites to write and probably my most popular on AO3, so I'm bringing her to the party. In this particular chapter Joel fixes a sink, and I did minimal investigating into the world of plumbing, so obviously any mistakes are just gonna be there.

Series Masterlist

Austin is quiet. So much quieter than where you came from: Houston, the city on the bayou, where there's always something fun to do. Not that Austin is without its charm, it just kind of feels like living on the moon after the hustle and bustle of your hometown, the fourth largest city in the US. But the people are friendly, the vibes are mellow, and you soon begin to feel at home.

Soon you'll be starting college at the University of Texas, a school you've had your eye on since fifth grade. Your mom, overprotective but meaning well, allowed you to stay with your older cousin Sofia rather than living on campus. And you're excited about it because even with a roommate, this is your first time on your own, away from home, about to really live your life.

School starts in a couple months, so in the meantime you get a job at a new Starbucks in town, providing you with a little spending money. The first few days are a blur, making drinks, learning the register. But it keeps you busy, A few times a week a younger group of kids come in, ordering the cheapest things on the menu. One of them, a girl 13 or 14 years old, approaches the counter. She studies the overhead menu with an air of seriousness. "What's in a frappuccino?" she asks.

"Um, coffee, espresso, milk, ice, and syrup blended together, basically. Comes with whipped cream on top. I could give you one to try," you offer, as your manager is out that day.

"Sure," the girl answers eagerly.

You make the cold, frothy drink and hand it to her. "I'm still pretty new at this, so if you hate it, I'm sorry," you joke.

She smiles and walks back to her friends, sipping the frapp.

You work until evening and pick up some fast food on the way home, Getting out of the car with your food you lean back against the vehicle, stretching a little, trying to wake yourself up a bit. Then you hear the sound of a truck coming up the driveway next door and the engine shutting off. There are a couple of voices you hear as the people begin to exit the truck.

"Hey, she's the one who gave me the free coffee today," you hear, and though it likely isn't meant for you to hear, you glance over and see the young girl from earlier today, climbing out of the truck. From around the driver's side you see a man, mid-thirties, tall, well-built, a black t-shirt clinging to his torso. Dirtied jeans and work boots complete his attire. It takes a moment before you realize he's looking at you.

Immediately you glance back at the girl, obviously his daughter. "Hey," you smile and give a quick, awkward wave. She waves back politely and he gives a curt nod and quick wave. They make their way up the front porch and you hear his gruff voice: "You had coffee? Great, now you'll be bouncin' off the walls all evenin'," before the door closes behind them.

"Guess I met my neighbors," you mutter, making your way inside as well.

Over the next few days the girl, who you now know as Sarah Miller, comes to Starbucks, ordering the same frapp every time. "Don't tell your dad I'm giving you all this caffeine," you tell her, hiding a smirk.

Sometimes you give her a ride home from the cafe, though she claims to use the bus now and then. You come to see that Sarah is a lot more mature than you were at her age. You hang out from time to time, swim in your backyard pool, go to the mall, and every time you drop her off you catch a glimpse of her dad, always a figure in the background. You exchange a wave or polite smile and move on.

It's your day off, a Sunday. You intend to spend the day lounging, watching TV. Maybe Sarah will stop by. After making a quick breakfast for yourself you do the dishes. When you're finished, you realize the class ring you'd set on the counter is gone, likely washed down the sink. "Damn!" you exclaim, and text Sofia, who has just left for work.

Go next door and ask Mr. Miller if he can take a look and get it out. He's helped around the house before your cousin replies.

You sigh and put the phone down.

You're a little hesitant going to speak to him. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's home. You knock on the door, feeling self-conscious about your first interaction with him, and Mr. Miller opens the door.

"Good morning," you introduce yourself. "I'm Sarah's friend.. from next door."

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Joel Miller." He extends a calloused hand and you shake it. You've always assumed him to be a man who does hard work for a living, but in your first time seeing him up close you admire his tousled, dark brown hair, his deep brown eyes that seem serious. "What can I do for ya?" he asks in his gentle Texan drawl.

You smile. "Well, I was told you're pretty handy around the house, and I lost my ring in the sink just now." You chuckle at your mistake. "Would it be possible for you to come over and take a look?" You feel really shy about asking this of a man you barely know.

He takes a moment to think, clears his throat, raises his brow. "I suppose I could stop by." His tone is gruff but his manner seems warm enough. "I'll give it a shot. I'm no plumber, but I'll see what I can do." He shrugs.

You smile and sigh with relief. "Of course. I mean, even you just checking it out would be a big help.. whenever you can stop by I'll be here." You don't want to make demands on his time.

"All right.. I'm not doin' much right now, so I could swing 'round if you like. Just let me grab my toolbox."

Once inside, with minimal conversation Joel gets on the floor, under the sink, and gets to work. You wait nearby, trying not to hover, but also wanting to be available in case he needs anything. Plus he's good looking. You watch as he works. His shirt rides up, revealing his torso, and a hint of the waistband of his underwear. Your eyes wander lower until you force them away. To distract yourself you start putting things away in the cupboard.

"Sarah tells me you're new to Austin," he says as he works.

"Yeah, I'm actually from Houston. I'm starting UT in the fall, and staying with my cousin in the meantime. I take it you know Sofia?"

"I do. She's nice. I keep an eye on her place when she's away. Even when you're there."

You mean to say something in reply, maybe 'thank you' but you're thinking about him keeping a protective watch over your home while you're inside, unaware.

"So you're starting university? How old are ya?" he asks.

Something about his question makes you feel like a deer in headlights. "I'll be nineteen in September. On the twenty-sixth."

You can almost hear the smile in his voice. "No shit? That's my birthday. Except I'm far from nineteen. Small world, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you say, sneaking another glance at his torso.

"What're you studyin'?"

"English," you answer, excited to talk about it. "More specifically Literature. I want to write, and maybe one day work at a huge publishing house."

You hear Joel give a grunt. "What do you write?"

"Poetry sometimes, short stories, I have a few ideas for novels."

Another grunt. "You don't look like the type.. the writer type.. no offense."

"What type do I look like?" Your heart races as you realize he's categorized you already.

He peeks out from under the sink and his eyes fix on you in a way that makes you shiver. "I don't know yet. But you're young. Maybe you're the rebellious type." He goes back to work.

You sit on the floor, your back against the fridge opposite him. "How am I the rebellious type to you?"

He's quiet, and you see the gleam of his eyes from where he's under the sink. "Haven't quite figured it out yet.."

You can tell he's having fun with this, and there's a vibration in the air, a palpable chord struck, and you wonder if he feels it too.

"Anything I can do? Feeling kinda helpless over here," you chuckle.

"Just stay out of the way," his voice is more gruff than maybe he intends. Frowning, his eyes focus on an item lodged in the P-trap. He reaches in and pulls out your ring. It's covered in gunk and grime but you recognize it immediately.

"Oh shit! Thank you..." It's your class ring. 'Class of 2003' is engraved on the side, with a princess cut sapphire on top. You put it aside to clean it later.

Joel smirks. "No problem."

"I really owe you one."

"I dunno about that. Just don't go throwin' away your valuable stuff next time, okay?" He's teasing, almost playful.

You laugh "Okay.. hey I'm working at the cafe tomorrow. If you come by I could get you a free coffee." You put the offer out there, testing the waters though you aren't sure why.

"Free coffee? Careful, girl, between giving away free stuff to me and Sarah, you're gonna run Starbucks out of business," he grins. "But yeah, I might have to stop by."

You walk him out, even though Joel says it's not necessary, but you can tell he enjoys your company. "I guess I'll be seeing you around Joel.. Mr. Miller."

He stifles a chuckle. There's a touch of amusement in the way he speaks to you, but he hides it behind a warm, open expression. "Call me Joel. No need to be so formal around me."

"If my mom was here she'd say I was being disrespectful, calling you by your first name." You can't help a little blush.

"I won't complain about respect," he smiles again.

"She's pretty protective of me," you describe your living situation, your freedom that is being given in increments.

"Well your mom might've done you a favor there." Joel looks out past your front porch. "That's probably a wise decision, ya know? What about your dad? He ok with you living far from home?"

You shake your head. "He's not.. really in the picture. My parents divorced about five years ago. My dad went up north, Minnesota I think, and I haven't seen him since.." You feel a little vulnerable revealing this.

Joel's brow furrows and his expression darkens. You wonder if he's thinking about Sarah. You don't know much about her mother and haven't felt okay to ask. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you all right?"

You shrug. "I guess so. I've managed this long without him.." You give a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all this.."

"No problem, I don't mind listenin'. Do me a favor," he says suddenly. "Be careful out there, okay?"

Something about this catches you off guard. "Of course I will."

He smiles. "Good. I'll see you at the cafe tomorrow," he phrases it like a hopeful question.

"Bright and early," you say, feeling a few butterflies in your stomach.

He laughs and nods. "Til then."

You watch him leave and though you cringe at how young, foolish, childish you must appear to him, you can't deny that you feel something, even for a brief moment. Maybe it's nothing. But something about him sticks with you, an odd feeling in your chest. But it's just a dumb, knee-jerk reaction. He has a family, he's twice your age. You're focused on school and your future. Joel Miller is the last person you should be thinking about...

...right?

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[stupidcvpid]

Bakugou’s Playlist about you

CW: toxicity, sexual themes, swearing, self-loathing, Romantic themes, sensual themes

His thoughts behind most of the songs:

Realistically, I feel like Bakugou is the type of person to “make” a playlist about you, but it's just songs he really likes.

This song is good = reminds me of (y/n)

Nonetheless, these are some songs I think would symbolize his inner monologue.

I researched these songs, and the vibe he releases is rock and ballads. I tried avoiding a lot of songs that were a bit too pop and went for more of a “rock ballad” sound. I also feel like he'd add softer rock and rap since you're his soft spot (teehee)

The undertones of some of the songs are toxic but I think it adds to his mindset and a lot of his in-show relationships (His journey of self-loathing himself and thinking less of himself/thinking someone so good is above him)

—————————————————————————————————————

Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge

[ “They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do”

“‘Cause there's always repercussions when you're dating in school”

“But their lips met, and reservations started to pass”

“Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last” ]

He’s passionate and extremely intense. If you like a guy who fits that description, then all you gotta do is make your move. This song is his initial crush song. These emotions interfere with his personal and work life if he is not alert. He cares about his future and just hopes that you're a part of it.

—————————————————————————

Romantic Dreams - Deftones

[ “So heartless we march into the fumes”

“In time, in sync”

“Tonight the stage is yours” ]

He wants to show you off. You'd be a right-hand man, a partner for life. Bakugou understands the path he's going down is gonna have a ton of attention and hardship. He wants a partner that can handle that and thinks you are fully capable. He thinks you're amazing and powerful, “such a power couple we’ll be.” is all he ever thinks about.

—————————————————————————

Baby Blue Movie - Ciggarettes After Sex

[ “Don't you know the love that you want is all the love that you needed?”

“Gave me all you had”

“Gave me all the love that you want, all the love that you needed” ]

You are an extremely compassionate person, you tend to think about others a lot more than yourself. A little bit too giving, and he notices that. You’re burnt out and that's okay. He is too. It's hard living the lives you do. He just wants to lift the weight off of your shoulders and give you comfort.

—————————————————————————

Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

[ “I bite my tongue, it’s a bad habit.”

“Kinda mad that I didn't take a stab at it”

“Thought you were to good for me my dear” ]

He feels like he's constantly messed up opportunities. Like life is slipping by. “But I'm the best, right? Why the hell is this happening.” it pangs his heart every time you give someone else your attention. Isn't he funny? Isn't he the best? Isn't he the only one deserving of your attention? His behavior created a grave of obsession, an unhealthy dependency, on someone who'd given him a slice of normality. You hadn't put him on a pedestal, you treated him like a person. This was his battle, he couldn't treat you as his mirror. You were too good for him, and he knows that. He had to better himself.

—————————————————————————

IFHY (feat. Pharrell) - Tyler, The Creator, Pharrell Williams

[ “I fucking hate you”

“But I love you”

“I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled” ]

He is an extremely angry individual, it was even hard for him to understand how you’re able to put up with him. Maybe you don't, and that's good. It's damaging to be around someone so angry and violent the entire time. At least acknowledges that, but is he willing to fix it? For you, anything. He can be very flippant and in his head a lot of the time. You don’t give him any reasons to be angry, but of course, he likes giving himself problems. It’s not intentional, but the battle with himself is strong. Keeping the relationship neutral is best for now.. neither of you want that though.

—————————————————————————

Do I Wanna Know? - Artic Monkeys

[ “I'm sorry to interrupt. It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you”

“I don't know if you feel the same as I do”

“But we could be together if you wanted to” ]

Do you feel the same way? Are you wanting him as badly as he wants you (I mean if you’re reading this then it’s most likely yes) but he doesn’t know that. His pride is too great to be rejected. He just wants to hear it from your lips. The same ones he dreams of kissing every night. It drives him insane. If only you could throw him a bone, just some kind of sign to know you actually like him.

————————————————————————���

About a Girl - Nirvana

[ “I'm standing in your line”

“I do hope you have the time”

“I do pick a number too”

“I do keep a date with you” ]

He’s a sucker for you. Thinking about only you. Pining for your companionship, it feels wrong for him to think about anyone else. It wasn't even a question that he wouldn't think about anyone else. You get a lot more attention than you think, so he'll have to move fast.

—————————————————————————

Everlong - Foo Fighters

[ “Breathe out”

“So I can breathe you in”

“Hold you in” ]

He wants to be with your being, to get to know every fiber and cell that he’s completely infatuated with. In his head, he’s already committed, others become blurs in his mind. He wants to take away any pain within you. He wants to be the sweet relief of taking deep breaths, soothing your soul, clearing your head. He can be extremely passionate but doesn’t reveal it to people who aren’t worth his time.

—————————————————————————

Back to the Old House - The Smiths

[ “And you never knew”

“How much I really liked you”

“Cause I never even told you”

“Oh, but I meant to” ]

Due to his cold personality, it seemed impossible for Bakugou being able to have feelings for someone. It's not hard to miss anything that signifies his feelings for you. He’s scared, which is sweet but also sad. He’s had numerous chances to tell you. There’s nothing he desires more than to hold you and tell you those magical words.

—————————————————————————

Cherry waves - Deftones

[ “You hang the anchors over my neck”

“I liked it at first, but the more you laughed”

“The crazier I came” ]

This song represents the battle with himself. He's afraid if he lets you in, that'll ruin you. He's a target. The League of Villains, his associates, how dangerous his quirk can be. There's a ton of factors. He was never too focused on dating, but once you became his anchor, he didn't want to let you go.

—————————————————————————

Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

[ “And I'd give up forever to touch you”

“‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow”

“You’re the closest to heaven that I'll ever be” ]

You've definitely captured his heart, someone he’s always wanted to touch emotionally. No matter how hard he tries, it feels as though something always pulls him back. Like a metaphorical “hell” he thinks he belongs to. His loathing runs deep, but you don't make him feel that way.

—————————————————————————

The Perfect Girl - Mareux

[ “Youre such a strange girl”

“The way you look like you do”

“You're such a strange girl”

“I want to be with you” ]

Everyone is particularly strange to him, but you? It’s like you were meant to catch his eye. Nothing physically about you is off to him, but the weirdest thing about you is your personality. The last person to catch his attention this much was Kirishima. He started to remember your name just like his best friend. You were different though.

[captain-hawks]

THE LINE BETWEEN LUST & CONTEMPT

♡ — kento nanami x f!reader

As you glance down at the skimpy, khaki skirt and blue shirt that’s missing far too many buttons on the top end, topped off with a silky, patterned yellow tie and heels that may actually kill you, you find yourself wondering again who in their right mind let Gojo pitch Secret Santa-style costumes for the Halloween party.

18+ ONLY

wc — 5.5k

content — enemies to lovers speed run, protective Nanami, soft dom!Nanami vibes, "fucking it out", gagged with a tie, oral fixation, spit kink, spitting in mouth, fingering, squirting, handjob, choking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, washing machine sex, wall sex, praise kink, Nanami’s big dick

— AKA what if nobody went to Shibuya and everyone went to a Halloween party instead?

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“You’re joking, right?”

There’s a familiar chuckle that rings out over the phone, one that often signifies nothing good is to come when you’re on the receiving end of it. 

“Does everything fit?” Gojo asks coyly, as if he’s incapable of hearing the thinly-veiled threat in your prior question. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You glare at your phone where it’s perched atop your dresser before returning your gaze to the mirror in front of you, readjusting the blue button down shirt once again in an attempt to keep your chest at least modestly covered—it’s a lost cause. 

“Well, this shirt’s somehow missing half the buttons from the top,” you respond dryly, moving on to fix the silky, yellow tie with black spots that’s secured loosely around your neck. 

This is a disaster waiting to happen. 

“And?”

“And my ass is basically hanging out of this skirt,” you continue, roughly tugging the khaki-coloured material down in vain, as if that will persuade it to extend past its otherwise permanent resting place against your very upper thighs.

“I really don’t see what the problem is.”

Kicking at the precariously tall pair of heels sitting on the floor waiting to wreck your feet, you grumble, “I can’t even walk in heels.”

“Shoko’s house is small. You’ll be fine.”

You walk over to your bed, eyeing the gift bag that Gojo had left sitting on your desk at the school earlier this morning. Something still remains neatly placed at the bottom—a lacy, red lingerie set.

“Should I ask why you bought me lingerie, too? I don’t see how that’s part of the costume. Unless Nanami likes wearing thongs on his days off.”

There’s that fucking chuckle again.

“Nanami-kun loves the color red, don’t you know?”

An unwelcome flash of heat flares white-hot in your gut at the implication behind his words, and you’re mortified. “You’re aware we hate each other, right? Have you been living under a rock? He’ll probably turn around and leave as soon as he walks in and sees me wearing this.”

Gojo’s chuckle turns into an outright laugh, and you can practically hear him shoving his stupid blindfold up to wipe away the tears of amusement prickling at the corners of his ridiculously blue eyes.

“Hate? Yeah, sure. Alright.”

Asshole.

You hang up on him. 

–

You had the (dis)pleasure of becoming acquainted with Kento Nanami just over a year ago, shortly after Gojo roped him back into the world of jujutsu sorcery, despite his best efforts to avoid it during his stint as a salaryman. Given that Jujutsu High isn’t exactly brimming with a large roster of full-fledged sorcerers, the two of you have—naturally—been paired up on your fair share of cases.

To say that you don’t work well together is an understatement. 

Nanami’s straightforward and calculated way of operating in the field is a direct contrast to your fast and loose approach, one that relies heavily on acting on your feelings in the heat of the moment, rather than calculating precise, measured ratios that guarantee a critical hit.

You’re too reckless.

Too emotional.

Too spontaneous.

Too sentimental. 

You grate on him much in the way Gojo does, but whereas there are years of friendship that give Nanami the patience to put up with the strongest sorcerer’s antics, he has no reason to extend that same courtesy to you. 

Needless to say, he’d outright balked when Gojo happily announced that you were a grade 1 sorcerer as well, something that never fails to ruffle his feathers as he watches you flirt with dangerous situations time and time again just for the thrill of it, saving your finishing blow of cursed energy for the last possible moment.

“I can’t work with someone who’s actively trying to get themselves killed,” you’d overheard him snapping at Gojo after your second mission together. “She’s worse than you.”

“She always gets the job done, doesn’t she?”

“At the cost of my sanity, I can’t say it’s worth it.”

Admittedly, you may or may not exacerbate the issue on occasion, exaggerating the aforementioned behavior that you know gets on his nerves just to further get a rise out of him in your attempts to try and dislodge the perpetual stick that’s lodged up his ass. 

–

When Shoko opens the door to her apartment later that evening, the sounds of music and laughter spilling out onto her front step, she takes one look at your costume, eyes wide, and laughs, “Oh, Nanami is going to love this.”

You exhale dramatically through your nose, though the exasperated gesture is thrown off by the way you then proceed to shiver, your meager outfit doing little to protect you from the crisp October air. “Tell me again why we didn’t veto Gojo’s Secret Santa Halloween?”

She shrugs, stepping aside to let you in as she offers you a knowing glance. “I seem to remember you saying how fun it would be to surprise each other with costumes.”

“That was before he picked my name,” you lament, glancing down at the outfit that you’ve now begun to refer to as The Slutty Salaryman. 

“Guess I’m lucky you picked me, then,” she winks, waving a hand to show off the far more modest and fun rendition of Principal Yaga that you’d put together for her, complete with a faux cursed corpse seated on her shoulder with large googly eyes glued to its little bear face. “If it makes you feel any better, someone with a sense of humor clearly got Gojo.”

Careful not to trip and fall to your death in the heels as you head through the entryway to the party beyond, which is bustling with a mixture of familiar faces and strangers alike, you scan the room for a tall head of white hair. True to Shoko’s words, you’re not at all disappointed when you catch sight of Gojo dressed as Gakuganji, looking completely ridiculous with fake facial hair, crudely drawn makeup to add decades to his appearance, and loose-fitting pants that are amusingly unflattering on his lean frame. 

It’s not quite revenge, but it’ll do.

–

Two hours pass without a sign of the man you’re dressed as, and for a moment, you’re relieved at the thought that perhaps you’re off the hook. Every little smug, knowing grin Gojo’s been tossing your way will have been for naught. 

But perhaps just to spite you, the front door swings open the moment you take a celebratory swig from the glass of wine in your hands, leaving Shoko to pound on your back while you start choking on the liquid at the goddamn sight standing before you.

Nanami’s dressed as Gojo.

Sort of.

His blonde hair can’t quite disobey the laws of gravity like the other sorcerer’s stark white locks, so it hangs soft and loose over the white blindfold on his face, which is lifted just enough over one eye so he can actually see. Rather than don Gojo’s typical uniform, Nanami’s in an all-black suit (save for the tie he never goes anywhere without), the well-fitting material leaving little to the imagination as it snugly hugs his muscled arms and thick thighs. 

You’re too distracted to respond to the way Shoko’s snickering in your ear, and when Nanami turns around to talk to someone—thus offering you a view of the outfit from behind—you choke again. 

Naturally, you spend the next hour doing everything in your power to avoid Nanami for reasons you’re not quite ready to examine, utilizing an excessive amount of mental gymnastics to justify the way you keep dipping out of conversations every time you catch a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of your eye. The confusing mixture of feelings you’re experiencing has sent your fight-or-flight response into overdrive. 

Your concerted efforts take a nosedive when a far-too-observant Gojo manages to wrangle the two of you into a conversation before you can find an excuse to be somewhere else. It’s disastrous at best, Nanami offering a blunt, disinterested list of every poor decision he felt that you made when Gojo asks how your joint assignment the other day went. 

And just when you’re about to lay into Nanami about how difficult he made that mission, Shoko grabs you by the hip, resting her head on your shoulder with a smile as she turns to him and asks in a calculating tone, “Nanami-kun, doesn’t her costume look great?” 

He glances at you with a gaze full of disinterest before turning to Gojo with an unimpressed look. “I’d never wear such a cheap tie.”

Nanami walks away to get another drink before you can think of a good comeback, though admittedly, the tie is a terrible knock off.

—

“Shit, sorry!”

Cold beer splashes across your chest and soaks the front of your shirt as a man trips and stumbles in your direction, and you groan in annoyance at the feeling of the sticky liquid dripping down your skin. Despite the fact that you wave him off, heading toward the kitchen in search of paper towels, he follows you, spilling out a string of apologies as he himself scrambles for a pile of napkins. 

It’s an awkward shuffle of you trying to clean your chest off without flashing him and the man getting entirely too close as he awkwardly makes an attempt to dab your shirt dry. To your relief, he doesn’t make it that far, the fingers now wrapped around his wrist halting his arm midair. 

“She’s fine.”

Nanami.

The blindfold is long gone, leaving behind the rare sight of him with no glasses and soft, tousled hair. Internally, you scramble to rustle up the familiar feeling of annoyance that always weighs heavily in your gut at the sight of him. Instead, it’s all you can do to try and keep the hitch in your breath inaudible as you feel your stupid heart trip over itself. 

“I’m just—”

“Do you need his help?” Nanami interrupts the man’s slightly slurred words, directing his steely gaze to you. 

For all of the endless comebacks you can normally conjure up to hurl back at him between one breath and the next, you’re temporarily rendered speechless in confusion as to why he’s helping you. So instead, you just shake your head. 

“She doesn’t need your help,” he repeats, nothing friendly in the way he says it. 

The man apologizes again as he drops your arm and scurries from the kitchen, and you turn away from Nanami, leaning against the counter as you attempt to catch your breath and school your expression into something that doesn’t scream, “Why the fuck was that so hot?”

“Are you alright?” he asks carefully, the tinge of concern in his voice sinking into your bones. 

Hand coming up short from the now-empty paper towel roll, you let out a sound of frustration, though it’s moreso due to the infuriating way your body’s been reacting all night to a man you normally can’t even be in the same room with without arguing about something. 

“Like you said, I’m fine,” you tell him sarcastically, spinning around and pushing past him to grab napkins from the table instead. When all else fails, deflect. 

Unfortunately, spinning in heels is arguably one of your worst decisions of the evening, because you instantly lose your balance on the smooth tile floor. When you try to right yourself mid-step, the room tilts as the heel on one shoe cracks under the pressure. Your hands fly up to break your inevitable fall, but it never comes, a pair of arms wrapping firmly around your body and catching you.

Body momentarily on an angle as Nanami holds you against his warm, solid frame, you look up at him with a dumbfounded expression. If he did this in the field, you’d have jumped out of his hold with a snarky remark about not needing his help. 

But right now?

Right now, you don’t know what you want. 

He stares down at you, nonplussed. “You can’t walk in heels,” he observes.

You blink.

“I can’t walk in heels,” you concede, for once not brimming with the fire to argue. 

“And you’re still dripping wet.”

Nanami lifts you back into a standing position, napkins clutched in one hand as he stands on your side with the broken heel and wraps an arm around your waist, helping you to walk. You desperately try to ignore the way it feels to be tucked against him. 

You hate him. 

Right?

He has you facing the short hallway that you know leads to Shoko’s laundry room instead of the living room. “Should I ask where you’re taking me?”

He looks at you, sighing and shaking his head as he walks you toward another door, flicking on the light before he suddenly hoists you up without warning. You yelp at the feeling of something cold touching the backs of your thighs, short skirt and thin tights doing nothing to protect you from the metal surface you’re now sitting on. Glancing down, you realize he’s put you on top of the washer. 

“Here,” he unceremoniously drops the pile of napkins into your lap. “I thought you might want to clean yourself up somewhere more private, given that you seem to be missing most of the buttons on your shirt.”

Is that fucking sarcasm in his voice?

He waves his hand in the direction of the damp blue button down, as if it’s not meant to be an imitation of his trademark outfit. 

“And what are you going to d—”

You’re cut off by your own gasp at the feeling of Nanami’s hand wrapping around your ankle, the gentleness of the gesture a stark contrast to the way he’d nearly manhandled the stranger in the kitchen. He raises an eyebrow, holding up the broken-off heel in his other hand. 

“Can’t have you limping around Shoko’s house the rest of the night, can we? That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

You can’t bring yourself to argue, too mesmerized by the way he drags a hand through his blonde hair to push it out of his face, the stubborn locks fighting their way back across his forehead as his brows furrow together in concentration.

You want to card your own hands through it, to see what kind of expression his face will morph into. 

No. 

“I think they’re a lost cause,” you sigh, leaning forward to take them off and admit defeat. You’re sure Shoko has a pair of slippers somewhere. 

You get a face full of Nanami’s hair instead as he beats you to the punch, his long, deft fingers making surprisingly quick work of the tiny buckles as you try not to make it too obvious that you’re now purposely inhaling the scent of his shampoo for whatever fucking reason has compelled your traitorous body to do so. 

This entire night is a write off at this point.

Head elsewhere, you belatedly realize that your legs are spread far too wide for the microscopic length of your skirt, which may be why Nanami’s gaze has remained dutifully trained on your feet, rather than the bright red thong you know is staring him in the face. You try not to make it too obvious as you inch your thighs back together. 

Putting your shoes on top of the dryer, Nanami goes to leave, turning his head to the side once he’s facing the door, “Do you want me to get Shoko?”

You should say yes. 

You should say yes and watch him go back out to the party, letting the door swing shut on this strange, baffling detour in your contemptuous, stormy relationship. 

You’ll go home and sleep off the tightening of your throat and the pressure in your chest, these hazy, confusing feelings sure to fade in the night, long gone after sunrise like the evaporation of morning dew.

But you’ve never been one to make things easy for yourself.   

“So that’s it?”

Nanami turns around fully, eyes meeting yours. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“You’re just going to go back out to the party?” You’re not sure why you’re pushing him.

He takes two slow steps back toward you, hip brushing against your knee when he comes to a stop. “Are you incapable of getting off of the washer without hurting yourself, too?”

There’s an unfamiliar, teasing lilt to the way he says it, and you shift in place, blood prickling hot beneath your skin. What’s wrong with you tonight?

“You really have nothing to say about my costume?” The words are out of your mouth faster than you can take back the idle thought that’s been nagging you since he walked in the door. 

Since you caught him looking at you from across the room several times after his initial biting remark about the tie, his expression unreadable. 

Nanami scoffs quietly, the scent of his cologne licking its way up your nostrils as he leans one hand atop the washer, just beside your thigh. Veins bulge against his forearm, and you find yourself wondering when he rolled his sleeves up. 

Electricity shoots down your spine as a caress of hot breath tickles the shell of your ear. “What do you want me to say?”

You stare straight ahead, not turning to face him. “How much you hate it.” 

The air in the small room is thick with the tension that hangs heavily in the scant space between your bodies. Nanami’s quiet for a moment. 

“I do hate it.”

Why do you feel so disappointed by the response you knew you’d get?

Then, his dress shoes scuff against the floor, his right hand coming to rest on your other side as he slides over and cages you in entirely. 

“I hate how badly it makes me want to fuck you,” he breathes out. 

Suddenly, you feel far too hot and dizzy to be perched atop Shoko’s washer. “What?”

He chuckles darkly. “Don’t act stupid, princess.”

The air feels like it’s rattling in your chest as you inhale, your increased intake of oxygen doing nothing to clear your clouded brain. “You hate me,” you say dumbly.

His thumb twitches, brushing against the outside of your thigh where there’s a small run in your sheer stockings. The contact is so minimal, you barely feel it, but it leaves a burning hot brand echoing through your nervous system all the same.

Despite the fact that he has you caged atop the washing machine, he’s barely touching you, his body arched just enough to avoid the idle sway of your legs. His tie dangles in the space between your bodies, and you have to fight the urge to wrap your fingers around it and tug.

Nanami stares at you, an odd expression on his face. “I hate the way you make me feel,” he corrects you. 

Oh.

“But you—”

“You’re reckless.”

“I’m—”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Well—”

“You’re too fucking smart to be risking your life in jujutsu sorcery.”

“You’re one to tal—”

“Too talented—”

“Well that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever—”

“—you have no regard for your own life in the field.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“You infuriate me to no end—”

“Are you hitting on me or trying to hurt my feelings I really can’t te—”

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he rasps, chest heaving.

You stare at him, blinking slowly. “The feeling’s mutual.”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip. “I can’t stand it.”

You can hardly hear the sounds of the party anymore.

“Then do something about it.”

Nanami’s lips come crashing into yours, and every flickering ember in your body flares to life. 

There’s a dizzying precision to the way Nanami kisses, mouth claiming yours so thoroughly that a moan crawls its way up your throat before he’s even begun to skirt the seam of your lips with his tongue. Your lips part for him, and he deepens the kiss, one hand cupping the back of your head as his tongue slides over yours. 

He explores your mouth like he wants to devour you, and you let him, already dangerously addicted to the taste of his saliva mixing with your own, keening when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down. 

His hand drifts from your thigh to your shirt, and he grunts as he feels the still-damp material. Without hesitation, you begin to undo the few buttons Gojo hadn’t torn off before giving it to you, overcome with the need to feel the pressure of Nanami’s large, callused hands against your bare skin. He slips the loose tie over your head as you toss the soiled shirt aside, a groan escaping his mouth when he finally takes in the unhindered sight of your bright red bra.

While the straps are lace, the cups are thin and sheer, leaving your peaked nipples on display. You almost hadn’t worn it after realizing how little it left to the imagination.

But now, seeing the way Nanami’s jaw ticks as he stares down at you, fingers twitching where they’re resting against the tops of your thighs, you don’t regret it one bit. 

Your breasts feel heavy and tender under his rapt attention, and the coil nestled in your gut tightens. 

Nanami looks like he’s holding himself back, and you feel a surge of arousal drip between your legs as you watch him teeter at the knife’s edge of his restraint. 

“You don’t need to be gentle with me,” you tell him, overcome with the need to feel exactly what it is that he wants to do to you.  

He cradles the side of your face, fingers curling behind your ear as he slots his mouth against yours. The kiss is thorough but brief, and soon he’s dragging his lips along the curve of your jaw, mouth blazing a trail down the side of your neck, tongue exploring the dip of your collarbone.

While you know where he’s headed, your entire body still arches hard into him when he finally cups your breasts with both hands, leaning in to wetly mouth at one of them through the material of your bra. He licks and sucks, the sensation making you tremble, and you throw your head back and moan, one leg hooking around his waist to pull him in as you scoot closer to the edge of the washer. 

You’re about to take off your bra, but Nanami beats you to the punch, fingers easily flicking open the hooks and allowing your supple breasts to spill out before him. He dives back in, groaning as his lips close around your bare nipple, tongue dancing along the sensitive skin that surrounds the hard bud. His mouth is hot, and slick saliva coats your breasts as he goes back and forth between the two, kneading and sucking. 

With both of your legs now wrapped around his waist in the haze of your arousal, you inadvertently begin to rock into him, your short skirt hiked up around your hips and rendered useless. You moan at the feeling of the sizeable shaft that presses hard into the heat between your legs, his erection straining against the zipper of his slacks. Nanami groans as you start shamelessly dry humping him, and your panties dampen further at the feeling of the sound vibrating against your tits. He gazes one of your nipples with his teeth, teasing it a final time before he straightens, hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

Nanami stares at you intently, thumb brushing over your bottom lip, eyes tracking the way your pupils dilate in turn. He does it again, and your tongue darts out, grazing the tip. Tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, he presses the tip of his thumb just past the entrance of your lips, eyes darkening as he watches how easily you welcome the intrusion. He drags his thumb down the side of your chin, pulling down your lower lip with his pointer finger, and your lips part.

A small, eager thrum flares in your gut as you take his finger into your mouth, tongue wrapping around it as you coat it with saliva. Your panties are slick with arousal as you continue to chase the friction of his cock, moaning when he puts another finger in your mouth. You begin to bob your head on the digits, sucking on them so eagerly that you can’t bring yourself to care about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans, wiping off the stray saliva with his other thumb and licking his finger clean. 

He’s said the same thing time and time again before, but it’s far more preferable in this context. 

You whimper in relief when he finally slides that hand down your body, bringing it to rest at the apex of your thighs. The sound is muffled by the fingers still shoved in your mouth, and a sound of amusement rumbles in his chest as he watches you desperately keen and writhe for him. 

He drags a finger down the length of your wet pussy, though the contact is muted by your stockings. You begin to shift your hips, a plea for him to tear them off of you, but his impatience wins out as he outright tears them open to gain access to the plush, dripping warmth of your cunt. 

“More red,” he murmurs in approval, running his fingers over the matching sheer material that covers your mound, one digit sliding up to firmly tug at the thick, lace waistband that sits high against your hip bones.

“You like red?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

But he surprises you, still. “I like you in red.”

Nanami uses his thumb to push your thong aside, steadily dragging his finger down your soaking wet slit now exposed to him. The digit slides right through your sensitive folds, and he smirks before sliding one long digit knuckle-deep into your tight hole. 

You gasp, toes curling as you buck into his touch, already greedy for more. Greedy to be filled. 

“More,” you pant out as he slowly pumps the finger in and out of your cunt.

“Open for me,” he tells you, voice low and rough.

You don’t hesitate, lips falling open, and your body radiates with tremors of pleasure as Nanami spits directly into your mouth. Swallowing it down, you moan, drunk on the feeling of submission as he slides in another digit and continues fucking you on his fingers.

“Good girl,” he breathes out heavily. “So pretty like this.”

You shudder under the weight of his praise, something unlocking inside of you as you begin to realize maybe you’ve wanted this from him all along. Needed this from him all along. 

“Fuck me, Nanami. Please.”

“Kento,” he corrects you, hair tickling your neck as he leans in, licking and sucking at the junction between your shoulder and neck.

“Fuck me,” you moan, loosening his tie as your fingers trail their way down opening each button of his shirt. “Kento.”

He bites down hard at the sound of his first name on your lips, his gravelly voice like fire against your skin, “Come for me first.”

He picks up his pace, fingers squelching lewdly in your cunt. Your mouth falls open as you try to temper down the loud moans of pleasure you want to give him, aware that all that separates you from the partygoers is the closed door a few feet away. 

Kento roughly spits into your mouth again at the same moment that he brings his free hand between your legs to tease your clit, the fingers buried inside of you curling as he strokes your sensitive, spongey wall. A choked out sob leaves you when you come, and he swallows it down with a messy kiss, meeting your muffled cries of pleasure with his own rough moan as he feels you squirt all over him, clear liquid spraying his shirt and pants.

“Fuck,” he groans, the wavering loss of his composure now evident in his voice as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm on his hand. 

Overcome with the desire to feel the large erection tented painfully at the front of his pants, your fingers fumble with the button and zipper, a sigh of pleasure leaving you when you finally wrap your hands around his long, thick cock. Kento kisses you filthily, moaning into your mouth as you begin pumping his cock, thumb sliding over the precum dripping from the head. 

His large hands grasp your thighs, pulling you as close to the edge of the washer as possible. Kento wraps his own hand around his dick, firmly dragging the head down your creamy slit. You rock forward, chest heaving, muscles clenched tight with desire and need, only to be met with a sharp burst of pleasure as he slaps his cock heavily against your pussy. You whimper for him.

Placing a finger over your lips, which have been far from quiet throughout this ordeal, Kento goes to grab the tie left discarded beside you. However, after his fingers close around the material, he raises a brow and shakes his head, letting it drop to the floor as he begins to loosen his own tie instead.

You make no effort to hide the shameless need on your face as he smirks at you, shaking his head before wrapping the tie around your mouth and gagging you with it. 

“I like seeing you desperate,” he murmurs against your ear, before finally sheathing his thick cock inside of you.

His dick is so big, your tight pussy throbs from the stretch while he splits you open, flooding your body with an overwhelming wave of pleasure. Suit jacket already discarded somewhere along the way, your fingers tug off his unbuttoned dress shirt, leaving your hands free to explore the firm expanse of his abdomen.

The washing machine begins to shake loudly with each thrust, and Kento grunts, arms wrapping tightly around you as he lifts you, choosing to fuck you up against the wall instead. The continuous push and drag of his fat cock through your slick channel leaves your mind begging for more.

Your lewd moans are quiet and muffled against the gag, but he can still hear it when you beg, “Harder.”

He obliges, the shelf leaning against the wall beside you trembling ever so slightly when he begins to roughly thrust in and out of your cunt. His cock relentless plunges in to the hilt, your pussy greedily taking every long, thick inch as he fucks you deep. One of his hands runs down the side of your neck, and you find yourself leaning into the pressure, whimpering against the wet material blocking your mouth.

“Should have known you’d like this,” he rasps, hand sliding to the front of your throat as he tightens his grip and starts to choke you. “Now come on my cock.”

The pleasure that erupts inside of you swipes every remaining bit of air from your lungs, a choked out sob crawling its way up your throat as you tremble and shake in Kento’s steady grip, cunt squelching wetly around his dick. 

He looks down between your bodies, the sight of the creamy ring you’ve left around the base of his shaft drawing a rough, aroused noise of appreciation from him. 

Kento goes to pull out, but you shake your head, a small whine slipping past the tie, and he groans heavily, forehead falling against yours as he slams his cock back in to the hilt. It only takes a few strokes before he’s coming, too, shaft pulsing and throbbing within the tight grip of your slick cunt as he dumps rope after rope of hot cum inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

When you’re finished, Kento sets you down carefully, his fingers tender as he undoes the gag and leans in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, tongue swiping along your lower lip.

“Are you alright?” He asks, thumb stroking your neck.

You don’t answer him for a beat, and his mouth curls downward in concern, meeting your gaze only to find the deceivingly innocent pout of your lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re done already?” you say. 

You should be exhausted from how thoroughly he just fucked you, but instead, you’re already thinking about feeling the thick stretch of his cock inside of you again, and your cunt flutters and aches with a need that’s yet to be sated.

Kento laughs, the sound deep and rich, and you think you could get used to hearing it.

He pulls up your underwear, along with your now-ruined tights, lowering himself down on one knee before you as he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your cunt while his thick, sticky cum begins to soak into your panties. You exhale shakily, already far too close to undone just from the sight before you alone, and he smirks, standing back up.

Kento takes your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, teasing your bottom lip. “We’re not done, we’re just going to go somewhere where I don’t need to cover your pretty lips next time.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[haveyouanytime]

obsessed with ur rust domestic blurb we need more of that vibe

another blurb for old dog rust :3 | cw: implied age gap (reader 18+), smoking cigarettes, literally all about cigarettes, very short :( and not proofread ... living life on the edge

Rust hated that you smoked. It was a social habit you formed back in high school from sneaking out during lunch, wanting to be cool with the other kids that dreamed of leaving Alaska right out of graduation. However, once you got into a relationship with Rust, smoking became almost a constant thing. 

It started off with sharing cigarettes. You’d go out with him for dinner, finding yourself outside and leaning against the brick wall with the Louisiana air murkily settling over you. You’d look up at Rust as he lit his cigarette, watching with a doe-eyed look as if he had put the moon in the sky. He took a deep puff, exhaling with a quiet groan and pushing the plume of smoke out into the muggy air. 

“Can I have some?” You softly ask, your smaller hand reaching out for it. With a chuckle and a small shrug, he hands you the cigarette. 

You take a drag like how your friends taught you in high school, but the accidental tolerance break made the tickle of the strong nicotine too much to handle. You coughed out, your eyes scrunching shut with the unfamiliar tickle in the back of your throat. 

You hear Rust chuckle, his hand moving to rub a circle onto your back. “Not too much now, baby.” You cough, still holding the cigarette as your other hand moves to push at his chest to wordlessly tell him not to laugh. 

Then, you started smoking by yourself. Rust had forgotten his cigarettes at home during one of his shifts at the bar, and your curiosity got the best of you. You coughed again but slowly worked past it, thinking of seventeen-year-old you who could smoke two without even coughing. As it finished, a strange sense of accomplishment came over you, and you didn’t mind it too bad. 

He noticed you’d started to smoke more often, and he felt like he had corrupted you in some way. That guilt had always been a small manifestation deep within him, starting just as your older boyfriend in Alaska. Now he had taken you all the way to Louisiana and got you fixed on cigarettes. 

“You should quit.” He grunts one night, watching as you roll over in bed. The covers hid your exposed body as you grabbed your pack from your nightstand. 

“You first.” You answer, lighting the cigarette with his own that dangled between his own lips. He could admit he hated that he got you to start smoking, but nothing sparked fire in his loins like when you’d lean in, kissing the tips of your cigarettes together to light them. 

After your own budding addiction, Rust became notorious for stealing your cigarettes. The pack in your purse would disappear, and you’d see Rust with a new pack despite never taking the time to stop by the store. Even if you tied your ribbons around them or hid them in your nightstand drawer, you’d find them in the pockets of Rust’s jeans. 

What frustrated you the most, however, was the one’s he’d steal straight from your lips. 

You’d be lounging at home, slowly and carefully applying a bold red to your fingernails. You were taking drags with the cigarette that sat between your lips, the TV playing an old sitcom as background noise. Suddenly, long fingers would appear in your eyesight, snatching the cigarette from between your lips.

“Hey!” You whine, turning to look at him as he stands behind the couch. With a smirk, he looks down at you, taking a long drag of the cigarette he thieved from your own mouth. 

“That has my lipstick on it.” You pout, pointing at the ring of red on the cigarette where Rust’s lips pursed. 

“Baby, I’ve had your lipstick on more parts of me than I can tell.” He drawled back with a raise of his brow. He took a drag of the cigarette, chuckling as he caught the pillow you threw at him.

[tarotwithavi]

How do your classmates and teachers view you?

A general depiction of how your classmates and teachers see you and think of you.

Choose the picture that attracts you and you can choose two piles. Leave a note to support. And have a nice day!

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Pile 1

Hello pile 1 ! You're classmates see you as someone who's competitive and likes winning. You give off the vibe of higher achiever. You might also see that your classmates also see you as a competition and might compare their grades with you. For some of you I'm getting that you might be very popular in school because of your intelligence and knowledge and this might attract some jealousy. Your classmates see you as someone who is always in their own world and does their own thing and very passionate about their studies. Someone who takes their academic life seriously. You're okay with enjoying with your friends and skipping classes but when it's time to study or when you feel like you should study, you became very serious and forget your surroundings.

On the other hand your teachers see you as someone who balances their studies with their hobbies and is a mixture of topper and disguised troublemaker. Your teachers see you as someone who is going to succeed in life. You know the type of student who the teachers believe is going to be great person or is going to get a lot of fame. Someone who doesn't compromise their education for a short time fun. Your teachers see that you can become a perfect judge because of your unbiased opinions and advices. Your teachers see you as a hardworker too. They also see you as someone who makes stupid compromises? Oh I get it they see you as someone who doesn't realize their worth and how capable you are. You tend to underestimate yourself.

Pile 2

Alright pile 2 ! Your classmates see you as the forever helpful and nice classmates. The one who is always ready to help and explain the topics again if someone asks them to. Probably the second teacher of the class Or the head of the class. I'm also getting that your classmates see you as their friend and the coolest classmate. I'm also getting that your classmates recognize you for your art or creativeness. Maybe you sketch, paint, draw or sing? They see you as the down to earth person. The one who is nice to everyone and has good relations with everyone. They also see you as the mother of the friend group or the person who can vibe with anyone ( are you guys for real? How do you do that? What's your secret? ) Anyways , I'm also getting that your classmates like you a lot. And some might be crushing on you.

Okay so for your teachers I'm getting that they see you as "My buddy" Or "save this student at all cost " Or something like that. Now take that how it resonates but I'm also getting that they might think that you lack confidence? They see you as someone who is good with everyone but likes to do their work alone. They type to do the group assignment all by themselves even though they got paired with their friends. Your teachers see you as the student who's ready nice but won't tolerate bullshit and hates to be told what to do and how to do certain things. Your teachers might think that you won't ask for help and is a little hesitant to talk to people sometimes. They see you as Someone assertive. And needs to gain confidence.

Pile 3

Welcome pile3! I'm getting that your classmates see you as the person who's working very hard and trying their best. The type of student who always has their nose buried in books and always talk about the next test and the subjects they are bad at. For some of you I'm getting that your classmates think that you're hiding something. I'm also getting that they see you as someone who has a whole different personality at school and changes into their different self the second they feet leave school. You give off the vibe of Peter Parker. For example how he is a super hero but no one knows that. Even at school people see him as the average student . You might skip school a lot too. I just heard " There's a lot about me that people don't know. And I would like to keep it that way" . They also see you as someone who tries very hard to be like everyone else.

Your teachers really be hyping you up. They want to see you succeed and see all your wishes come true. There's a male teachers who really has high hopes for you and wishes the best for you. For some of you I'm getting that there's a female teachers who's very strict and might be called rude, who Sees the potential in you. You might be being burdened by work from this teacher but in her mind she's doing the best for you. Your teachers see that you're tired and stuck. They think that you're going through something that you don't want to share. And they wish that you would be a little good to yourself. I heard " You're doing great sweetie" . Your teachers see you as someone who has had enough and just wants to rest. They see you as someone who needs to rest and recover and remain positive.

[recreationalfanfics]

Okay okay so a few years back when I was very much into the NATM fandom (almost embarrassingly so), I was obsessed with Al Capone.

Imagine Al Capone meeting the fish mafia and either loving their whole vibe (especially the lounge) or not trusting them one bit and just pulling Daley!Yuu (a.k.a his pseudo-child, much to Larry's annoyance) to the side like 'I'd be careful o' these fellas - they seem like trouble'

(Cut to Larry like - You and your gang tried to teach them tax evasion last week!)

No but he would meet Deuce and would it would be like instant respect because one gangster recognises another (even though Deuce is trying to reform)

Imagine if he and Vargas had shooting competitions

Valid, Jon Bernthal as Al Capone was too powerful, he is a beautiful man♡

- YEAH, NO, UNCLE AL SOMEHOW APPEARING IN RAMSHACKLE (maybe various NATM characters appear in your room, so like one day it's Rexy, the other its Teddy, and so on and so forth) and maybe Battle At the Smithsonian happened when you were pretty small and Al and his Crew had to hold you hostage but ended up adoring you instead.

- Essentially, Al and the boys are confused but SO HAPPY WHEN THEY SEE YOU AGAIN. You walk downstairs to Ramshackle and see them standing in your living room only to lighten up when they see you♡

- They attend the school as if they're your bodyguards, like Ace and Deuce getting scared when these random monochrome men grab them and demand who they are but once you tell them that they're your friends, they're letting them go and fixing up their uniforms.

- Right off the bat, Al prefers Deuce more than Ace. This is shown when he tells Ace: "See, if you were alive in my time, that obnoxious mouth of yours would be filled with lead." and then he moves onto Deuce and he's all: "But this kid here has a look to 'im. There might be a place for you-"/ "ALPHONSE, NO."/ "What's with the government name, kiddo? M'just saying!"

- While he does find some elements of Twisted Wonderland odd and different, he absolutely knows mafia when he sees it and he immediately clocks the Tweels. Like, he walks into class with you and he's all: "Oh, those two are definetly mafia or whatever they got here in Disneyville." and the Tweels instantly look at him which only seems to confirm what he said.

"Prefect~ Whose this? Another friend from your world?"

"Haha, hope he can swim, Shrimpy!~"

- Al isn't very intimidated by these two and once you explain who he is, or, well, who he represents, then the Tweels are much more calm. They're not gonna outright tell you they're mafia but you hate how well they get along with Al after you told him who he was.

- NOW, Al might play wingman here. If you've got your eyes set on someone, good! His boys will either intimidate or black mail them into asking you out or, if Al decides he doesn't want to scold them, he'll be nice and try to gently nudge them in your direction (aka, just tell them that you like them and to shoot their shot).

- If you DON'T have someone you like, he might push you in the direction of Deuce, Floyd, or Jade.

- Preferably Deuce. He's got a good heart and a fair amount of muscle to protect you and from what he's heard, and he seems to want to keep you safe. A nice kid whose got a good head on his shoulders.

- However the reason why he considers Jade/Floyd is only if YOU like one of them and make the mistake of telling him or he finds out. First of all, he teases you about it and is all: "Wanna follow in your old man's footsteps, eh?" and you roll your eyes and Larry doesn't know why but his dad sense is tingling.

- But seriously, he will most definetly support it since you're very capable of handling yourself, he's seen you grow up into the troublemaking teenager you are but he also knows you have a tendency to land yourself in danger so he'd feel at ease if someone like Jade or Floyd had your back.

- But also, watch him be all: "But just so you know, there might be mistresses in the picture. If they're decent guys, obviously they won't have any but just keep an eye out and keep that in mind-"

- Jade and Floyd just being offended when he puts that idea into your head and assuring you that none of that will be happening-

[adviceformefromme]

im feeling ugly. i just cant get it out of my head. i keep remembering everytime someone commented on my boobs, my acne and i feel stupid (i dont even invest in stocks). and i feel poor (my job doesn't pay. and i hate my coworkers.). tommorow i'll clean my desk. also i cant just give up on the fyodor book. i hate myself. when will i change and when will i get a real job. i know consultants make a lot of money for doing nothing…i wish that was my job. idk what i'll do with my life. and everytime i look at my school classmates…they're richer than me. and evryone is pretty and happy. and everyone has experience in love, friendships, work and everything. why am i the only one who doesn't fit in? why am i soo different? i wnt to be happy. i cant even say anything to my sister she'll yell at me for doing all the things. im so ashamed of myself. idk

Hey sweetie, I feel you. I've been there. It's the hamster wheel of feeling shit and worthless. At some point, all that self-depreciating talk just digs you into a dark hole of feeling like absolute crap. There is no light, just misery and depression. So my question is, are you ready to leave this place? Are you ready to step into the light? To start choosing better thoughts? To loving yourself? Being kinder to yourself? It's not a quick fix, but it does require you to invest time and energy into loving yourself. Some suggestions:

Learn to meditate - download an app or do guided YouTube mediation

Start listening to Podcasts / YouTube for uplifting inspiration

PRAY - and set the intention you want to heal

Remove all negative streams of content, movies, the news, Netflix, music. Only high vibe, good feel media (chic flicks, feel good music, etc)

Write down 10 things you love about yourself daily for this whole month

Read The Secret, by Rhonda Byrne (there are free PDF downloads floating around the internet)

Make sure you are eating properly, drinking enough water. Learn about nutrition, cut sugar from your diet.

Make sure you are exercising every single day. If this is too much do at least 10k steps (you can listen to an inspiring podcast during walk)

Pause mid sentence if you feel you are putting yourself down or complaining about life.

Make sure you are clean / showering / brushing your teeth.

I hope these help sweetie, DMs are open if you need more support xoxo

[28ms28]

Well well well look who wants to understand my driver rankings. Welcome to this long-ass post where i explain my crimes.

Short answer: My top 4 drivers are Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, Oscar Piastri and George Russell in that particular order and the rest of them are not fixed and are interchangeable with each other!

and my favourite team is Ferrari but i think you must have gathered that from my pinned post.( I will be biased be warned )(i also support Williams!!)(yes im always suffering thanks for asking)

and my take on RPF you ask? my answer is yeah sure why not. (you might catch me posting about lestappen!)(just memes i lack the cognitive function required to write)(also emphasis on the big F in rpf, I don't think all of them are actually in love with each other obv)(I just like parallels okay.)

mostly this blog is for shits and giggles but sometimes i get serious lmao

Long answer :

well first of all i want you to know that i don't hate any drivers so don't come up to me saying that you hate XYZ cause they have upset you or your driver. i won't like that. keep your hatred to yourself and we'll be fine <3 i will only hate them if they have committed heinous crimes in their personal lives(for example nikita mazepin f that guy).

and if I'm trash-talking a driver or if you think I'm trash-talking a driver (which I don't do) it's probably cause I'm frustrated with them atm, come morning I will forget about it because it does not affect my life and it should not affect yours either

LOL I warned you about this like I get complaints but no I'm very polite i promise no one has ever said a bad thing about me.

As always I'm not forcing my thoughts and rankings on you because you're your own person but you are very much welcome to join forces with me lol

My driver ratings and reasons as to why I love them are all at the end of 2024 season and everything below top 4 isn't fixed and can change!! Also as you will soon find out these rankings are deeply unserious and are NOT solely based on their racing and accomplishments it's a mix of everything and my personal preferences (which CAN change so if you provide me reasons to stan them I'm all ears) so yeah just keep that in mind.

1. Charles Leclerc

(Track Menace who is also Pookie Bear) (unintentionally funny) (just an inchident) (canonically listens to sad songs after bad races) (piano man was at some point higher in the iTunes chart than at the actual championship standings) (clueless cringefail loser) (Ice-cream man) (14 year old Max Verstappen's nightmare) (best qualifier on the grid imo) (idk something about someone who is on course for achieving greatness and will not stop until he achieves it no matter the cost, something about so much sacrifices for something he got soo close to achieving something that did not work out in the end something about how he devotes himself to Ferrari like no one else could before him something about how fate chose him to be in that seat something about how he made it look easy something about how it looked like the way was paved for him something red red red idk something about web weaving) (dogdad) (we love Leo) (went to Lewis Hamilton school of naming his dog after his rival) (oh and dreams about community services with said rival) (very strong mental health and even bigger therapy bills) (did i mention he's il predestinato of the tifosi) (biggest Ferrari fan) (only one who knows how to race max verstappen) (he was an ankle biting child see any photos of his childhood as proof) (everybody is maxplaining victim he's a maxplaining enjoyer) (suffers from middle child syndrome) (Seb's Ferrari child) (committed parricide on Sebastian Vettel in 2019 and 2020)

2. Max Verstappen

(pookiest pookie to ever pookie, track lion, big brother, catdad, certified victim ,4 time world champ, deserves so much more love, so so so incredibly talented, he's just a shy boy your honour ,free my man he did all of it but yeah vibes, because I'm dutch, fifa legend(just online), Danny kvyat has nightmares about him, geography nerd, has zero skills in any other physical sport, is planning to become a sim racer, tu tu tu du max verstappen (fun lore about Max did you know this guy was ranked 21st in the world in ultimate fifa in 2018(or was it 2016?? Doesn't matter) like can you imagine being that insane like bro you are a f1 driver in a top team like pls ??) (community service enjoyer) (certified yapper) (is terrified of fuel stations(jos verstappen when I catch you) ) (#1 lecfosi) (cringefail loser and he knows it) (teammate destroyer) (has read every rule in the rulebook and knows how to break every rule in the rulebook legally ofc all legally) (Seb's redbull child) (on his way to break most of Seb's record just to spite the old man)

(And is friends with an old Austrian man somehow)

3. Oscar Piastri

(Pookie bear, Mark Webbers child that has Sebastian Vettel's evil aura (Mark you will never know peace), koala, polite cat, eldest sibling energy, Android lover, Carlos Sainz's nightmare gremlin, loves cricket(cannot play well bless his heart), #1 lestappen shipper(I respect that) is also somehow the eldest of the lestappen children(his granddads are Webbanso) ) ( Him and Fernando have plotted the downfall of alpine) (I have a feeling he hates Zak brown deep down which I agree with) (grill the grid champ(like I said aura of Seb Vettel))(his one lap pace might not have been that great this season but i assure you he makes up for it in his racecraft)(also its his 2nd year cut him some slack)

4. George Russell

(British individual(derogatory), king of radio messages (oh crikey), has an evil aura which is probably why he gets along with Nando, makes amazing powerpoints(facts!!), head of the gdpa and he takes it V.E.R.Y seriously probably the admin to the f1 driver group chat, part-time driver part-time strategist, he's a better driver than people give him credit for unpopular opinion but I think he can be a wdc or least a close wdc contender if given the right car I think if he was in lando's car in 2024 he probably would have taken the fight to max idk about winning but he's for sure no easy breeze, f3 and f2 wdc too, very memefiable or wotever the word is) ( T pose)(t.a.l.l.)(one sweaty boi)(a very very good qualifier i swear you guys are sleeping on this guy)

5. Lewis Hamilton

(7-time world champion, goat behaviour, was friends with P Diddy, rich cool wine aunt, #blessed, fashionista, Hammertime, Fernando Alonso's nightmare gremlin, don't ever mention 2016 in front of him, is haunted by Nico Rosberg, is neighbours with Nico Rosberg, will avoid Greece for the rest of his life, had a very public divorce, thus vegan, Silverstone 2008 you will always be famous, this Barbie is an f1 driver, still we rise guys, Toto Wolff and David Croft will sacrifice their bloodline for him, certified Micheal Massi hater, certified Bottas lover, we love him and Seb being the activists on the grid, this is getting manipulated man, did not survive Abu Dhabi 2021, did not survive Abu Dhabi 2016, has had caps thrown at him, Left family for Italian mafia, uncle I beg you please get your qualifying form back pls pls, is embarrassed by those toxic #teamlh and you cannot convince me otherwise, has let 2 baddies named Nico slip from him, ISS THAT GLOCK???, Bono my tyres are gone)

6. Carlos Sainz

(Spanish chilli, smooth operator, dog lover, says bye to his racing career after 2024( no wait let me tell you something let me finish let m- *shot*), certified zoning out( Carlos has been called to the stewards), Lewis Hamilton hater prolly, certified Fred vassuer hater, poor guy really he leaves whenever a team is getting good like come on, has had very good teammates and has been friends with them, in 2025 will become the third person in history to have raced for Ferrari, McLaren and Williams, I feel like he lacks a bit of aggressiveness in his racing like he operates smoothly and intelligently sure but yk you should have a bite yk )(whenever he finds this said bite and aggressiveness it's usually against his teammate I'm observing you Carlos I'm noticing)( loves Lando Norris, golf master but humble about it, Maria Karey, one of the mature drivers on the grid, excellent at all sports, James aeiou has a crush on him, Lana del Ray coded, him and max were torro rosso nepo babies).

7. Lando Norris

(twitch streamer first f1 driver second, McLaren boy, hates papaya rules, has been multi21nd, mental health has been made very public by his own goddamn team, party-boy and DJ, fakes knowing how to play COD and Fortnite, very consistent racing good for him, terrified of first laps and poles, best friends with last laps and fastest laps(let's go Lando), shit at golf and geography but it's okay he makes up for it by being funny, probably misses being Carlos's teammate, but like Carlos lacks a bit of aggressiveness that is required, McLaren PR's nightmare gremlin, opposite of polite cat, has somehow managed to anger every fanbase and his car is the sole reason for the unification of RedBull, Ferrari and Mercedes, has been dealing with the wrath of Australia since 2021, at the end of the day just a curly haired guy ).

8. Fernando Alonso

(Spanish devil , Disney villain ahh character, 2005 and 2006 world champ, is looking for his 33rd win, Michael Schumacher's nightmare gremlin, grumpy old man first f1 driver second, lance lover(rare), Lawrence stroll's sugar baby, fast, prime Alonso I am scared of you, goat behaviour, holds a special grudge against McLaren and Lewis Hamilton(Alonso is sick of his ass), no more radio for the rest of the race, believes in karma, has dated Taylor swift apparently but is in love with Mark Webber( Jenson button is also somewhere in there), is known as El padre and has an el plan(everyone should be afraid), racecraft out of this world, 2005 Suzuka you will always be famous, all de time you have to leave da space, Alonso radio my love, aggressive but good racing the likes of which I have never seen and probably never will, what do mean by "I knew he'd brake earlier because he has 2 kids and a wife at home" like who says that what what??, worse career decisions than Ferrari strategies, bad luck so much bad luck, so chaotic so much chaos, has adopted Oscar and has plotted the downfall of alpine with him, Flavio haunts him, do not bring up Singapore 2008 in front of him especially not if Felipe Massa is present there, has driven the 2014 Ferrari and has not recovered from it, has outlasted Renault in formula one (wild), give Fernando Alonso 5 more points and he would be a 5 time wdc (even more wild), bye bye I'm still the bad guy)

9. Alex Albon

(alabonoo) ( bff with George Russell) ( is bullied by George Russell) (golf wag first f1 driver second) ( James aeiou has a favourite and it's Alex Albon) ( Alex really said I'm Thai first and a colonizer second and good for you Alex) (2020 Alex and 2022 onwards Alex are different people okay?) ( he's a consistent racer much like Lando but he makes mistakes more often, under pressure working is maybe not his forte sorry pals) ( he's a really nice dude tho and really funny as well ) ( dude has a Chipotle member card as one of his essentials and you tell me I'm not supposed to love him come on be reasonable)(he has his own zoo he's a certified pet owner) ( if I had the money for that amount of pets I would do the same Alex I get it ) (also he's a Ferrari fan so you just know bro is always on hopium) (I think he gets put under the radar often but he's great) ( he seems to be a chill dude imo)(we both love lily)

10. Nico Hulkenberg

(German but like in a cool way) ( has been giving dad energy before he was a dad) ( called Hulk but is probably the calmest person on the grid) ( give my man Bruce Banner his podium nah it's not even funny anymore he deserves so much better than that) ( he's won le mans on his first try yk give him the Redbull seat for godsakes) (Nico is so cheeky like I know he's a gen x or something but like I see the genz potential yk) (Audi better have a car good enough for a podium I swear to god if we say bye to him before a podium I'm uhm I'm uh I'm gonna cry).

11. Yuki Tsunoda

(anime boi) (wants a restaurant before he wants a world championship and I respect that Yuki) (has an evil aura) (certified hothead because he's a certified good chef) (has the bitch spirit to be a Redbull driver but is not. because of Horner issues) (Yuki does make the occasional mistakes but like he's far better than the alt no?) (in the words of Yuki "idk man wotever") (too much anger for too small body) (is in love with Pierre Gasly) (is bullied by Pierre Gasly) (everybody loves Yuki even Nando is a fan)(tbf nandos a fan of anyone who has an evil aura) (people are terrified of Yuki radio as they rightfully should be) (Yuki is nightmare gremlin of every race engineer).

12. Pierre Gasly

(French but like from the north of France)(known for being French and Max Verstappen's teammate thus known for being fucked over by Redbull, also known for his revenge win in Monza) ( he's just a great driver like if given the right car he can fight at the top and win he's not on Max and Charles level yet but I feel like around George and better than Lando) ( he's also a good qualifier maybe it has something to do with speaking French who knows but yeah amazing what he can do in that shit alpine) (unfortunately he has a severe case of resting bitch face but he's very nice actually unless you are Esteban then he's not very nice) (yeah he also has the brocedes case of childhood best friends turned enemies but like French and he's very much Lewis in that way which means he would much rather ignore estie bestie than talk about him e.v.e.r)( oh and he loves one Japanese boi)(i swear they got something going on man)(pierreeee gasllyyyyy)

13. Kevin Magnussen

(Kmag the Viking) (my god nobody races like kmag lol) Okay so maybe I put him this high because he's a track terror to everyone but like watcha want me to do? Not acknowledging kmag's great defending is a crime, he is here to cause menace no matter how many penalty points he gains or races he's banned from he's really coming for Ocon's penalty points honour tbh. Shame really that this is his last season... just when things got interesting *sigh* (off the track he's a chill girldad) (hulk and kmag had an enemies-to-lovers story arc and I think that's beautiful)(kmag you legend)

14. Esteban Ocon

(he's French, he's from Normandy in France which is the north of France so you just know he was a bored child) (he and Pierre were bored babies) (which is probably why he races the way he does lol) (5-second penalty for Ocon) (no but seriously this guy has mad potential but also he's a mad teammate killer and not in a good way) (he has made a way for himself in formula one and he belongs here it's just that maybe if he tried targeting people other than his teammates he would make it much easier for himself) (he's a very cheerful person irl)(they love him for his nice kindness friendly boy swag)(big Marvel fan) (gives very early teenage boy vibes) (softie at heart) (cannot for the life of him pronounce squirrel)(oh he also loves lance(rare)) (Estie bestie is on the podium babyyy)

15. Daniel Riccardo

(Aussie Aussie Aussie Oi oi oi ) (damn Daniel) (it's not tears it's athlete sweat ) (I mean I knew it was time to go but still it didn't have to be this way it's okay tho Danny is enjoying retirement and dirt bikes) (yeah the performance was just not there for Danny boi not that we could see it anyway because of vcarbs shit strategy or whatever they call it) (I miss prime Daniel he was such an annoyance to Sebastian)(2014 Daniel took the Australian revenge on Seb for his crimes against Mark Webber) (but yeah Daniel you go out of this sport with lots of love and a fastest lap)(ki ki aye)

16. Valtteri Bottas

(Finnish when he was in Mercedes but is officially Australian since then) ( Bottas more like Bott-ass get what I mean) (I mean that he has a weird obsession with his gluteus maximus) (Valtteri pls I beg you stop this behaviour) (10 time Grand Prix winner Valtteri has nightmares about James aeiou) (Valtteri it's James) (he's pretty chill all he cares about is racing, cyclist girlfriend, and his mullet+moustache(not necessarily in that order)) also here's a sad fact since Valtteri won't be on the grid next year it would be the first time a Finnish racer is not in the grid since 1989 yeah everybody is waiting for Robin Raikkonen now.

17. Sergio Perez

(Checo damn man what happened) (no 2 Redbull driver curse got to checo) (he was doing so good in racing point like Sakhir 2020 my beloved last to first, man what a performance that was) (he is capable of doing such great things but nooo bro gets knocked out in q1 more than he has reached q3) (Redbull killed the dawg in him man) (certain Austrian man haunts his nightmares and no it's not Niki Lauda) (he and Logan are the nightmare gremlins for mechanics)(even when he performs it's usually in no human right countries so he's not really helping the allegations) ( this poor Latina I swear to god) (he can't drive and he's up and about with other women(Taylor swift 1989 reference) aye aye aye(checo go home to your wife and children).

18. Logan Sargeant

(American) (bald eagle noises) (collective groan of William mechanics) (sorry logie bear)(James aeiou shall face the wrath of Jenson button it's ok) (first American to score points in f1 since 1993 that's 30 years so yaaay!!) (American history will be kind to you Logan)(not sure about f1 history tho) (your last gift to us was a sick ass album cover and I respect it) (if only he knew what a kilometre was * sigh*)(bye bye miss American pie).

19. Zhou Guanyu

(China boy) (another alpine escapee) (Zhou I'm sorry but you're not him anymore) (I miss pre-Silverstone 2022 Zhou where has my dawg gone man) (Zhou may not be as good of a racer now but he makes it up by being a fashionista) (tbf to him that Sauber stake monstrosity is not really helpful so) (also he is a catdad and had an emo phase through f3) (Fernando fanboy)(He's the first Chinese to ever race in f1 I think he's done his country proud) (He's also a proud Valtteri lover)

Okay so rookies next I did not include them here well because they have had like on avg 6 races soo

1. Oliver bearman

2. Franco Colapinto

(ollie) (what a wonderful job he has done my god) (p7 in Jeddah on a day's notice wow dude) (he's driving for Haas in 2025 and his teammate is Esteban and honestly I can't wait for this dynamic both of them wanna impress so bad (also if anything goes wrong he already have a meme for it: my condolences!! ifykyk)) also points in Baku after he passed his teammate (tell me you are a lestappen child w/o telling me you're a lestappen child) what I've seen from him I can tell he's very relentless that's good(also he's the most employed unemployed person ever) (also I heard people criticising him by commenting on his current f2 season like babe did u see his rookie f2 season?? that's why he's here not because of this year but last year and he's not doing bad this year it's just the car is shit but yeah he was at one point higher in the f1 standings than in f2 so I get why people are confused lol) (also he's super likeable very Genz very demure very mindful) (Ferrari has grown him in a lab with utmost care so he's very much a PR baby)(oh yeah also he's in love with Kimi Antonelli) (and the way I see it bearnelli is so much like an old married couple of that are so fond of each other I have no other option than to stan)

(Frankie baby) (Argentinian and very proud) (is very funny) (is also very genz) (sent James aeiou into a crisis by doing a better job than Alex Albon) (scored 4 times the amount of points than his predecessor in his 2nd race) (looks like Senna goes for the gap like Senna( in racing!! in racing!! calm down man)) (he deserves his place in f1 next year my god) (like the racecraft he has shown is very impressive I'm impressed and so is very f1 team even if he does not get the seat next year I doubt people are gonna forget about him believe me he will be in the talks still) (like I said he's not even had a full f2 season when he was called in for Williams and yet the incredible pace he has shown is fantastic) (has all the 30+ aged drivers enthralled with him and I don't blame them I would be too) (also he refers to estie bestie as the Frenchman so where do I submit my stan card??) (oh and he has been adopted by Max Verstappen)

3. Liam Lawson

(aka New Zealand's revenge on Australia) (he did a fantastic job in 2023 and has been doing a fantastic job in 2024) (his idol is Lighting McQueen.....so now that everybody knows that he's Genz you can probably understand why he is beefing with Nando and Checo(boomers) (I think he drives aggressively but not as smoothly he is yet to find a balance it looks like but hey it's working out for him no?)(off the track he's quite an expressive person but I don't think we have seen much of his personality he's friendly for sure and I mean he's a cars fan like come on he's a Pixar kid) (idk something about him says yeah I'm Genz but I still go on Facebook) (not that it's bad not saying the vibes are bad just Liam show more personality).

So that's pretty much it let me kno-what ? what do you mean I forgot someone oh lance?? yeah no I didn't forget I just have nothing to say really just that i expect better from him.

You see i view lance as an outlier, cause i know he's a great person, lovable, fun to be around, you can tell, look at the secret santa videos you can tell just from that, he's got that typical canadian aura, and although I made fun of him saying "lance lover(rare)" it's not actually rare, most of the drivers love lance the person. hell I love lance the person. I just don't understand lance the driver cause sometimes he's good fantastic even but the other times from what I see he does somethings that don't sit right with me. I also understand that people are too quick to jump on the hate train when it comes to lance but I'm not like that I don't hate him just making that clear.

Also I assume many of you saw charles being my fav and must have thought me to be one of 'those' fans(that you people keep talking about idk I've never seen one) but I promise Im not like that 😭 can't believe I have to make this clear lol. I refuse to put down a driver to make mine look good okay?

PLS READ these rankings are in my opinion and my opinion only. no hate to anyone!!

[rebouks]

Hello! I'm that anon who once asked you about the lots you use in your gameplay and whether you built them all. I'm so impressed that you create most of them yourself! But ever since you replied to that question, I've been trying to envision a lot for one of my upcoming gameplays, but I'm struggling to fully see it in my mind, so I was wondering if you'd mind giving some tips on your process of building your lots. Building is my weakest skill in the game, but I want to give it a try!

hello again anon!! i'm very flattered u think it's impressive 🥺 i truly love creating spaces for these guys! i'll try my best to kinda go into my process but be warned.. like anything else i do it's pretty much just chaos/winging it dkjsdkj (it'd be much easier if i used floorplans or smth simple so i could be like, here do this! but alas...)

okay i'm prolly gonna ramble a lot here but i mostly base my builds off random visions/future scenes that pop into my head or straight up vibes.. which isn't very helpful ik but hopefully if i explain it'll make a bit more sense!

so with Oscar's house above i knew i wanted it to be BIG, but i didn't want it to feel like a mansion they couldn't afford so i added some other houses on the lot and just gave em the biggest plot! i also knew i wanted it to be symmetrical, but only from the outside cos i wanted it to feel slightly chaotic on the inside, also hence the random tower addition on the left and the sunroom on the right.. like it used to be a big grand symmetrical "mansion" (prolly at the time it was built) but over the years kinda ended up as a convoluted mess left to rot until someone rescued it (yay for Oscar's impulsivity 🤸‍♀️) AND IT NEEDED AN ATTIC!! u kno cos where else would Clementine live?? 👻

so really i had no inspo pics or house plan layouts to go off here, just a vibe and an idea, i started with a rough shape and worked out all the kinks from there, then added the other lots.. be prepared to hate your wip and start over tho cos ig it's all part of the fun!

here we have an actual wip to use as an example! so with this one i basically knew i wanted a wrap around style house around a "courtyard" but since mt. komo is shit and doesn't have any decent sized lots we'll have to go with an L-shaped design and a third floor ig 😩 i started with the ground floor and just pissed around with the others until i ended up with smth just right, like anything else i do, building is just ruminating on an idea until i'm like.. yeah that works sdkjskj.. also handy to place the bare minimum furniture items as u go to get a feel of how the space does or doesn't work so u can fix it n stuff!

also feel free to make shit look strange if it works, for example these window placements look weird as hell on the outside, but real life houses aren't always symmetrical or perfect on the outside and we spend most of our time on the inside where the windows make perfect sense so.. yeah! i'm big on views from the INSIDE of the house so i just make stuff work, also big fan of using ivy/wall decs n stuff to "fix" the way it might look on the outside if needs be too..

the school i made for Robin n' co. was entirely built around this pool (cos it's IMPORTANT) and the fact that it had to have a glass roof (it just HAD to ok idk why but we must kneel to the vision when it strikes 🧎‍♀️) i tried to make the rest of it make sense around it tho, like maybe it was added on afterward so the rest is a pretty standard shape with offices n shit near the entrances etc.. ALSO (wait i actually need to explain smth else before we get to this also BUT BEAR WITH ME!)

ask yourself some questions (if u want? or just dl a house idk dskjdk)

i treat building similarly to writing and that means asking yourself some questions.. like you might ask why a character is doing/saying something, what happened in the past to make them this way? what're they aiming for in the future to choose these paths etc etc.. WELL.. what's this building for, who is it for, who chose to live here, who got stuck here, why do they like it, why do they hate it, etc etc.

we either get stuck somewhere we hate and it doesn't suit us, or we're lucky enough to choose somewhere that we love, but why? Oscar's house is sprawling and chaotic because they kinda are, and it suits them! all the random cupboards leading nowhere and the quirky additions are just perfect for them, if they were real people looking for a real house they'd view it and LOVE it, but other characters definitely would NOT 😅 the wip is neat and practical cos the people who're gonna live there are! 👀 and the school (see we got to that ALSO eventually) has that huge "grand" courtyard at the front that's actually pretty useless because it's a shitty comprehensive school that wants to give the image that it's decent, but actually it's a bit shit and there's nothing going on in the back, nowhere for the kids to play outside and very limited resources/equipment for them either.. like everything is built the way it is for a reason, which is why i think i find it so impossible to use other ppls builds, cos they don't fit all these visions in my mind...

ok i'm gonna shut up now but i HOPE this rambling mess somewhat explains how i go about starting a build and why.. i'm not sure i can help with the vision part since your brain is your own but floorplan websites and things like pinterest or even just google images are great for giving you ideas if you're struggling!

[maraschinomerry]

okay so, what about a lockwood and co x reader (platonic) where reader is quiet but if she does speak it’s always blunt or sarcastic or kinda rude because she doesn’t know how to express her feelings nicely but she shows her love in ways like act of service or protecting the others on a mission and like linking pinkies with them when walking to the archives and things and everyone is convinced she hates every other person but they know they’re the closest thing she’s ever had to a family even if she doesn’t say it

thanks so much bae i understand if you don’t want to write it no presssure <3333

Saving Your Friends 101

Pairings: Lockwood & Co & gn!reader (I know you used she/her in the ask but there aren't actually any pronouns in the fic)

Content: found family, struggling with expressing feelings, school bully, canon-typical violence fighting a ghost, Kipps being a jerk

A/N: I'm the least sarcastic person ever so I hope this all sounds okay 😅 also I just had to use that gif as the header, Lucy looking so done felt like the right vibes for reader in this

Word count: 2.7k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea (lmk if you want adding or removing!)

"Hey loser! I thought I told you to finish my maths homework!"

You were 8 years old, sitting making patterns in the dirt of your school playing field when your horrible classmate Jason stomped over with his group of equally unpleasant friends. He was a brute of a lad: what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle, his expression was almost permanently fixed in a scowl, and he had a small scar on his cheek that everyone thought was so cool and intimidating (but which you knew he got from falling off his bike when he was 5). Half the school, teachers included, were wrapped around his little finger in fear. But not you.

"Go away, Jason."

"Or what? You're not doing anything, nobody ever wants to play with you."

"I don't care," you shrugged. "I'm not going to waste my time so you can pretend you're not too stupid for times tables."

Jason stepped forward to tower over you, stocky frame casting your whole body in shadow, and a few of his cronies twitched with tempered aggression. "What did you say?"

You stood up on the spot, forcing him to lean back to normal as your face rose ever closer to his. You were a couple of inches shy of him, dungarees rolled several times at the ankles to stop you tripping over, but he wasn't exactly tall in comparison to his group. Being smaller didn't faze you; you squared up to him without hesitation. "I said you're stupid and wasting my precious minutes. Life is short… and so are you."

The cluster of boys burst out laughing - not at you, at him. Jason grew red in the face and puffed up like he could account for the missing height to fight you better, but you merely raised an eyebrow. One of the boys stepped out from the group and punched you encouragingly on the arm. Another much taller boy leaned on Jason's shoulder to emphasise the difference. Jason stormed off.

—

Ever since then, quick wit and sarcasm had been your shield as you carried yourself through the world. From holding up against your affectionless parents to commanding instant respect when you started training to be an agent, they served you so well that you near enough forgot how to be any other way. And that was fine. It worked, kept you detached and independent. That is, it worked until you joined Lockwood & Co.

You settled in quickly, discovering that the rest of the agency could be just as snappy as you. George especially had proved more than a match from the day you arrived.

"I'm here for a job," you announced when the curly-haired boy, dressed in orange plaid, opened the door of 35 Portland Row.

"As an agent?" he frowned. Lockwood hadn't put out another ad, as far as he knew.

"No, I just like accessorising with a rapier."

"Well, if it's as sharp as your tongue I shouldn't be in too much danger. Come in." Despite the insult you followed him with a grin. Finally, someone who might get you.

Unlike you, however, they knew how to switch it off. Your switch had rusted long ago, if not fallen off completely. Normally it wouldn't have bothered you, if it had kept you alive up to now it was worth it, but the longer you stayed the more you found yourself growing genuinely fond of your teammates and entirely unable to tell them as much. Nothing had to change, of course, that was what you told yourself - letting them in would only make you weak, it was better to keep to yourself. Say as little as possible to them. You tried to quiet the little voice in the back of your head which whispered that maybe the reason you kept your distance was that you were afraid of saying the wrong thing and scaring them off, of losing your first real friends.

—

"Everybody ready?" Lockwood asked as he dropped his kit bag onto the kitchen floor with a dull thud. You'd been ready nearly 10 minutes, still fairly new to working cases despite the months you'd been there and eager to respect the schedule that Lockwood had set out. Lucy had been the next after you to arrive, offering a quick 'hi' which you acknowledged with a nod. When George came down he immediately started chatting to Lucy. He didn't ask if you wanted to join the conversation. You never seemed to. He often wondered if you actually wanted to be there at all, but you hadn't left despite how little you'd tried to bond with them. There were plenty of other agencies to go to, yet still you stayed.

While Lockwood checked over the supplies once more, you leaned over to Lucy, who so far had been a reliable source on the boys and their actions.

"Is he always this picky with the gear?"

Lucy sighed as she adjusted her bootstrap. "No, just when the case involves families like this one. Brings out his protective 'save the world' side."

You'd heard by now about the young age at which he'd been orphaned, he was open enough about the circumstances if not the details, and you understood his pain but had never been taught how to address anything as serious as that. All you had to work with was your dry humour. "Save the world? He can barely even save his toast in the mornings," you muttered. Lucy snorted.

"If you're quite done mocking my culinary abilities…"

"Oh, I'm definitely not done, but it can wait," you smirked. Lockwood rolled his eyes, but didn't miss the way you wordlessly joined him in sorting through the bags.

The case itself went well, up until about the last 5 minutes. You all successfully secured one source, but it turned out the house had a second Visitor which you discovered when the four of you were ambushed by it in the dining room. It was a man, looked to be in his late 40s, with a thinning head of hair and an even thinner frame. The previous owner, then, Richard. Lockwood immediately stepped forward, rapier brandished, but with an ear-splitting screech Richard tossed him aside. The rest of you watched in horror as he flew across the table and crashed through a chair to land in a pile of splintered wood.

You levelled your own rapier, less aggressively. "George, Lucy, look for the source," you fought to keep your voice as steady as your blade, all your usual confidence gone without the safety net of your snide remarks which would only anger the ghost. "Cabinet behind us is our best bet, I think. I'll help Lockwood." The other two exchanged a glance before nodding and moving slowly towards the cabinet in question. You began to move in the other direction, around the side of the table and towards the spectral figure which was hovering worryingly close to the boy in the debris.

"Hey!" you called. Richard's gaze snapped to you. You faltered. No. Confidence. Wit. Use your ridiculous snarky brain to keep Lockwood alive. "He's not a fair fight any more, and you're better than that, aren't you? Come on, show me what you've got."

You almost heard Lockwood's protest - you saw his lips forming the words, sure, but the noise itself was drowned out by the shriek that burst from Richard's snarling mouth as he rushed towards you. You planted your feet and held your ground, just like you'd done that day in the school yard all those years ago, but at the last second you rolled out the way and sent your rapier slicing upwards. Richard howled, but it wasn't enough to dematerialise him and within seconds he rounded on you again.

"Aww, not bad for a first attempt," you jeered. "Do you want to try again?" The words had barely left your lips before he was upon you, and you swung hastily. The blade split him right down the middle, but he reformed behind you and you had to dance across the space to avoid him, smacking your ribs painfully against a sideboard as you did so. Your chest was heaving as you faced him once more.

"Are you even trying to hit me?"

A lance of air struck you in the centre of your chest, knocking all the air from your lungs as you collided with the wall. That answered that. You would have cried out if you'd had the breath to do so. Lockwood was right beside you, midway from climbing out of the broken chair but now frozen in the glare of the wrathful spirit which hung above you both. With the last of your energy you dragged your body between him and it.

"Got it!" Lucy yelled frantically in the distance, and in a wave the feeling returned to your limbs as Richard disappeared. Lockwood groaned, reaching out to help you up from where you'd slumped against him.

"So you know when you're taught not to taunt the Visitors, did you just skip that class, or…?" he scolded, but there was a touch of amusement in his voice, his way of showing he was grateful to have been saved.

You chuckled, wincing as the sound rattled your bruised ribs. "Scheduling conflict, not my fault. Clashed with 'Saving Your Friends 101'." You realised that was the first time you'd called them your friends out loud. They realised it too.

—

That case marked the beginning of a shift within the agency. Where the rest of them had been struggling to see any indication that you cared about being part of the group, suddenly they couldn't stop seeing them. Nothing had changed in the way you spoke (minimally, and heavily sarcastic when you did), but they learned to notice everything you said without words. How you always grabbed the first aid kit when someone came home injured from a case, and insisted on treating the wounds yourself. The way you clicked the release on the toaster every time Lockwood risked leaving it a little too long. The times George would fall asleep while researching with you in the library and wake up with the blanket from the back of your chair draped across him. The fact that none of them had bought any more of Lucy's favourite tea in nearly two months, and yet whenever she was close to running out the caddy would be full again the next day. As they began noticing the subtle ways you expressed your feelings, they began to find little gestures they could do in return to show they cared without pressuring you into talking, which only strengthened your commitment further. Lucy poured you juice in the morning before you asked and put your pyjamas in the dryer while you were in the bath; Lockwood made a big act of ruffling your hair and calling you 'kiddo' like an enthusiastic uncle when you did something particularly well; George learned your rankings of pizza toppings and Arif's doughnuts by heart so you'd always get the highest one available. All so uniquely them.

—

It was a bright June morning, with fine wisps of cotton candy clouds drifting lazily across the sky. An ice cream van sounded nearby, being pursued by a horde of excitable children. This was no time for ice cream for Lockwood & Co, though - there was an exceptionally big case to research, and it was all hands on deck as the four of you strode towards the British Archives. Lockwood was on the right, trenchcoat left at home and shirt sleeves rolled up to make the most of the glorious sun, rapier hanging from his belt. Lucy was on his left, arm linked through his. Her other hand had started in the pocket of her blue playsuit, which today she wore without tights, but now it held yours and swung casually back and forth. George completed the line on your left. You knew by now that he wasn't overly keen on physical interaction, which you completely understood, but you also could tell when he was willing to let it slide to join in with the group. This was one of those moments. Your hands had brushed as you walked along, and your pinky had twisted round his. This was almost a habit between the two of you by now, not quite as intense as holding hands but still providing a tether, a connection.

Inside was bliss, the comforting scent of old books accentuated by crisp conditioned air which provided relief from the blazing heat outside. You all spread out to gather resources from across the archives. Lucy returned with a stack of books so high she could barely see over the top, and you shifted your files into one arm so you could pull a chair out for her with your free hand. She smiled at you as the books cascaded onto the table.

Before long you were thoroughly engrossed in the research. It was one of your favourite activities within the agency, an opportunity to make a helpful contribution without the expectation of speaking to anyone. The only sounds were the rustle of turning pages, the scratch of your pen as you scribbled notes, and the occasional comment from one of the others when they found something unusual.

"My my," a voice that didn't belong to the group filtered through the barrier of concentration you'd built. You looked up to see Quill Kipps and his team sneering at your table. "It must be a big case to have you all working on it. Or do you just need help with the difficult words, Tony?"

There was a tic in Lockwood's jaw, but he forced an overly polite smile. "It is a big case, one that our client clearly thought we were better equipped to handle."

Kipps scoffed. "Probably just trying to save a bit of cash on a sub-par service instead of paying for the premium. Not to worry, Fittes will be more than happy to finish the job when you fail to."

You decided to follow Lockwood's lead, putting on the most innocent expression you could muster. "Hmm, what was I…" you feigned forgetfulness. "Oh, George, you'll know! What's that theory with the monkeys and the typewriters?" Kipps' team took the bait immediately, giggling amongst themselves at your scatterbrained question.

"Supposedly if you had infinite monkeys with typewriters or one monkey with a typewriter and infinite time, they would eventually type out the complete works of Shakespeare. It's not exactly true though."

Your smile turned wolfish. "That's the one, and remembered without a database too! I just thought of it because I was wondering whether, given long enough, Kipps would eventually say something intelligent. Don't think that's true either."

The other group fell into a stunned silence, giving everyone the opportunity to hear Lucy choking back a laugh. Kipps opened his mouth to respond, but then had just enough sense to realise that there was hardly anything he could say that wouldn't prove your point and promptly closed it again. Instead he shot you all one last glare and turned silently on his heel. The rest of his team scampered after his retreating figure.

Lucy's laughter erupted with enough force that she almost tipped backwards out of her chair. George grinned at you. "That was amazing!"

"Couldn't have done it without you, genius."

You suddenly glanced at Lockwood. His rivalry with Kipps was more intense than any you'd seen before, and you hated to think you might have overstepped or taken away his chance at gaining the upper hand. Relief washed over you when he gave you his signature smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. "If that's something else you learnt in 'Saving Your Friends 101', I might have to sign up for classes."

"Lucky for you I'm very committed to my studies, I can just lend you my notes."

Lucy leaned over to watch your pen gliding across the notepad as you spoke. She frowned at the page. "Your current note is just a doodle of… is that a crying monkey in a Fittes uniform?"

You all glanced in the direction in which Kipps had retreated. Lockwood reached across and picked up the notebook. "I'll definitely need to borrow this, for educational purposes of course… and then it's going on the fridge." You beamed with pride.

[leviathans-watching]

mfil - 37

-` ♡ ´- m.list | no taglist | next | wc: .8k

-` ♡ ´- a/n: rlly niche but is anyone experienced in macroinvertebrates and sensitivity testing?

*NOT CLICKBAIT!!!* when asmo learns that you, the newest exchange student has a youtube account and following somewhat comparable to his own, he decided right then and there not to like you. however, after an unfortunate (and misleading) exchange goes viral, he has no choice but to fake date you in order to save face. will asmo crush you and put you into place like you deserve? or are those funny feelings in his stomach not hate, like he had thought? like, subscribe, and maybe fall in love (with this smau) to find out!!

it takes some time for everyone to get settled in the living room, but once you all finally are, you find yourself sandwiched between asmo and solomon. the latter closer to you than your own (fake) boyfriend. but thankfully, as he goes through the mural plan, he’s all business, and you find yourself being drawn into the project with ease.

“i think it’s a great project,” diavolo says after solomon’s laid it all out. “it fosters community, adds culture to our school, and is a great way to set the precedent for more exchange programs. it just sounds like we need an artist or two to really get us started.”

“can’t mc draw?” mammon asks, and you shake your head.

“oh, no way! i’m better at the crafty side of things. need a painter and i’m your person, but for something as technical as this we need someone with skill.”

“asmo, would you be willing to help design the mural?” lucifer asks, and you turn to him. you had had no idea he dabbled in art aside from makeup and nail art!

“it’s been a long time but i suppose i could dust off my pencils,” he says, faux-modestly. “i can come up with a couple of mock-ups once we decide what to include and then we can go from there.”

“great!” solomon leans over you, shoulder pressing into yours, to give asmo a high-five. “we can do that some other time. i don’t want to bog down this sleepover with too much work. i really just wanted to introduce the project and decide where to start, and we’ve done that.”

the conversation drifts then, and you just take it all in, adding your two cents when asked. you’re really just content to listen and grow comfortable with the dynamics between the groups, especially since you don’t know everyone that well. asmo seems not to notice, but solomon certainly does, fixing you with a smile.

“so, mc,” he says at a quieter volume, as if to make your exchange more of a side-conversation, “has asmo been a good parter? treating you well and everything?”

and, okay, that’s kind of a weird thing to ask, right? that’s really not something you’d ask someone you’d just met. but maybe he was really close to asmo? you had kind of gotten that vibe…

“he’s a wonderful boyfriend,” you reply, cheeks heating slightly as you involuntarily think about the kiss. get over it already, you think viciously. “i really couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

“really?” solomon asks, dubious. “you must have really done a number on him. the asmo i know never seemed to have room in his heart for someone else, focused on himself as he is. but if you’re saying the opposite… that’s almost hard to fathom!”

his assessment isn’t necessarily untrue and matches your general experience with asmo, but for some reason, protective instincts rise in your chest. “is that so?” you ask, blinking up at solomon. “asmo’s truly the perfect partner.”

“what about me?” asmo asks, catching your hand (and your attention).

“mc was just telling me about your relationship,” solomon answers. “all bad things, you know.”

“oh, i’m sure,” asmo says airily, and you chuckle.

“no, i was just telling him about how great you are,” you say sweetly. “and how  i truly couldn't ask for anything more in a partner.”

except for someone real, a traitorous part of you wishes longingly. and the worst thing is that you don’t want just anyone. what you really want is to make it real with him, but there’s no way he’d want that. after all, not only has he always claimed to hate you, but he literally ran away after you kissed him! who’d do that to the person they genuinely care for?

“well, i’m glad you think so highly of me,” asmo hums, squeezing your fingers. “but i’m the lucky one in this relationship.”

solomon looks between the two of you, eyebrows raised. “i can’t believe this is what you’ve been turned into,” he says wonderingly. “i don’t mean it as an insult; it’s just hard for me to wrap my mind around it.”

“what can i say?” asmo sighs. “love changes a man?”

“love?” you giggle. “it’s much too soon for that.”

his smile turns slightly in a way you don’t like. “ah, you’re right,” he says quickly. “but you have to remember, i’ve never felt like this before. you’ve changed me, mc. for the better.”

you know he’s just saying it, but why do his words sound so genuine? and why is he looking at you like that? and why oh why is your heart starting to race?

“you’ve changed me too,” you finally muster, giving him a weak smile, and thankfully, you’re interrupted by diavolo offering up dinner.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[jakesangel]

do you have any beauty tips? such as weight maintain tips or exercise tips? just want to hear it from your perspective since your vibe is the same as arin! i enjoyed your works too! love you ❣️

hi anon ᵎᵎ i do have some >< i love u more bby

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . weight management

it's sadly very easy to fall into yo-yo so i'd day first of all fix your metabolism,, it depends for each people's diet but if you been restricting hard lately, then binging, then restricting, you're gonna be alright you should eat more than usual n fix your binging issues. i use to struggle w that a lot, so i have schedule times where i eat w safe meals so i don't feel like binging. after a while my metabolism was fix n so my binging issues. i then re started to diet again but didn't take it full on restriction, but just a slight calorie deficit ᵎ that way even if one day i overeat, my weight doesn't go up as high as if i was heavily restricting.

get to know macros ᵎ it's really important specially if you want to get a certain type of physic. i personally want to tone down, meaning keeping/growing my muscles but losing fat. so i mostly eat lean protein n a bit less carbs ( there not evil you need them )

eating depending of your activities. i forgot what's it's called like but basically i eat low carbs on day i don't workout, lots of protein along w some carbs whne i lift weight, n a bit more carbs whne i do cardio ! that whay i cant lose muscles >< i also do fasted workouts ^^

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . exercice tips

finding your sport is very very important ᵎ i thoight lifting weights was the way to go but i hate it sooo munch ᵎ i tried pilates n find munhc more joy in it >< don't be afraid to try new workouts as well w different ytbersᵎᵎ

pretty workout clothes/items are also sooo important. don't go out n buy them already, i boigh my mat n my weight 6 months into working out tonne sure i was going to be into that for a long period of time. but it helped me to be consistent n also it feels easier ?ᩚ some mornings i feel so so so lazy, so i just tell myself ' let's jsut out on the clothes, i can do that' or ' let's just be on the mat n we will see' n then i just do it ᵎ

for cardio there is also tons of different so just do as u feel like doing ᵎ i personally always been loving dancing so w kpop i have endless dances to learn ><

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . beauty

i feel like we all know what to do, drink lots of water, sleep well, do your skincare everyday n i've always been doing that but i've never glow like i am rn because i've never truly understood what's focusing on yourself is like. i cant go deep into my personal stuff but last summer i needed to focus on myself n i came back to school looking prettier than ever, having more compliments than ever, n i truly felt so so good about myself. so the only advice that u can give you is to do something for you regardless of people opinion. to keep on holding yourself first, you'll never be selfish because of that. at the end of the day, you only have you, n should be proud of who you are n be good to your own self. it's a bit hard n s crazy but if i did in it in two month ( summer being my seasonal depression phase btw ᵎᵎ ) you can do it too bby <3

it might feels like a lot but they will become habits in the long terms ᵎ what's important is consistency n not perfection <3

[thetriumphantpanda]

hi charlie! 

to say the vibes have been off lately would be an understatement, wouldn’t it? because there has been a lot of negativity, too much for a place that is supposed to be about finding an outlet for your creativity and people to share your interests.

i know it has been difficult, draining to be around here and face all the discourse cankering the fandom. 

because of all this negativity, i believe it is important to try and balance it out with some kindness. so here i am, doing a little check-up on you <3

so first, how are you, really?

everything you feel regarding what is happening is valid and you deserve to feel happy and safe around here. so please, make sure you take the time you need from posting, from sharing fics, even just from being on the platform. i want you to know it’s okay and i support whatever you decide, for whatever reason.

i also want you to know that you have your place here, as much as the rest of us. you’re loved and wanted and i can assure you the fandom is a far better place with you in it.

i hope you’re taking care of yourself outside of tumblr as well. please remember to stay hydrated and to eat something 🫶🏼

now i would like you to sit back and enjoy the perfect, quiet night in with joel <3

do not hesitate to reach out if you need to talk, i’m here for you! sending you all my love and so many hugs 🫂

anna 💗

Ahhh Anna, this is so sweet of you - thank you for taking the time to try and combat so much of the negativity on here by spreading some love - it's so important!

I have had so many thoughts about what's been going on lately, some of which I'll share here, but I'll put under a read-more so if you're not wanting to read discourse, you don't have to!

I'm going to go and enjoy my quiet night in with Joel, because that would absolutely fix me right now and thank you for sharing that with me. He's making me a cup of tea right now and is going to bring it to me, we'll watch TV and I will continue crocheting a blanket for us to snuggle up under!

Take care of yourself Anna, and thank you for always being kind and wonderful on here!

If you've been around here a while, you'll know that I rarely, if ever, get involved and wade into the discourse that floats around often. It's not because I don't care, it's because this blog has, and always will be, my way to escape the pressure of my real life. I have enough personal drama to contend with outside of the internet, and I very rarely want to allow it to bleed into the one space I have where I can escape for some peace.

That being said, it has become harder and harder for me to ignore the absolute storm of shit that has been swirling these past weeks. My friends and mutuals having their works blatantly stolen and then receiving hate when calling this out. People I look up to and whose writing I enjoy being attacked for presenting certain kinks. The insane rise in anon hate being spouted not just here, but across other sites as well. It's all too much and it all has to stop.

The people on this site create fic because they enjoy it. They graciously and selflessly write thousands of words for your enjoyment, for free might I add, without asking for very much in return. They write often around full-time jobs, school work and through personal and health issues. They agonise over making sure their work is as good as they can make it. They don't owe you anything, we don't owe you anything. We do this because we enjoy it, but the current climate on this absolute hellsite is making the enjoyment really fucking hard to find these days.

Be kind to each other. Stop hiding behind the cloak of anonymity to spew hate and be mean. Stop stealing other people's work. If you come across a fic that has warnings or themes that aren't your cup of tea, stop reading and walk away. Take a step back and think about what will happen if writers are continuously driven off this site.

[chazymandias]

The Tortured / Poets Department

The Anthology was 2 albums, but what if they were split differently. Restructured using vibes and this theory on track orders.

Album 1 - The Tortured

Fortnight Down Bad My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys Fresh Out the Slammer I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) imgonnagetyouback Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus I Can Do It With A Broken Heart The Tortured Poets Department I Hate It Here Peter I Look In People's Windows thanK you aIMee But Daddy I Love Him So High School The Alchemy

This album is the "Teenage Petulance" album. The first 5 songs reflect the rollercoaster of a relationship that you want so bad to work even while it's falling apart. While I Can Fix Him isn't a classic Taylor track 5 it's the snap moment of realisation that maybe you can't save what you want.

The next 3 tracks are the immediate reflex response to a breakup, followed by The Tortured Poets Department which feels like a summary overview of the whole thing.

As a result of this the album moves on to escapism, not wanting to be in this situation, putting yourself into fiction or other people's lives to get away from the reality. As well as rehashing other things that have made you feel like this that aren't the relationship.

The irony of having But Daddy I Love Him following thanK you aIMee is great after being so up in someone's drama to then be like but I don't care what anyone says.

However the album then ends with the discovery of a new relationship and the joy of moving on and the rush of new love.

The Tortured is reminiscent of 15 year old blog posts and anonymous tweets with big world ending statements and an acknowledgement of feelings that are so big in the moment but may not last.

Album 2 - Poets Department

The Prophecy Florida!!! Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived loml Guilty as Sin? Clara Bow The Black Dog How Did It End? So Long, London The Bolter Cassandra The Albatross The Manuscript

This album is what happens when you hone those tweets and blog posts (and let Aaron Dessner near your feelings).

Opening with The Prophecy sets the album up for heartbreak, and is an ironic opener for the next tracks. "Who do I have to speak to?" then becomes taking action yourself, as Florida!!!, Who's Afraid and The Smallest Man are all such powerful songs from a person who is taking back control of their life.

loml is a true track 5, a reminder that even when feeling powerful and in control heartbreak can still get the better of you.

Guilty as Sin? and Clara Bow are a counterpoint to Who's Afraid in that even if you embrace your power people will still have opinions and be asking things of you that they shouldn't. It's an interesting look at Taylor's relationship with the public.

Pairing "old habits die screaming" and "I still don't know, how did it end?" is just to hurt people's feelings ngl.

The end half of the album feels like an answer to How Did it End? with So Long, London and The Bolter suggesting there was fault on each side, and Cassandra and The Albatross pointing at the effect of outside opinions.

The The Manuscript as it always has been, the perfect wrap up of this album. The true closure and decision to turn the page and think about something new now.

You may have noticed that Robin isn't on either album, that's because I couldn't work out what it was doing and so if I was going to include it at all it would be a bonus track on Poets Department.

Would love to hear opinions but this has been sitting in my mind since I first heard the album.