#i have so many more team ups i want to see

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm XI

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: An old face watches a match

She wasn't as young as she once was.

Teaching hadn't originally been her first choice as a job but after finishing school and spending a few years bored senseless as a receptionist, at age twenty-five, she'd made the change to teaching children in their first year of school.

Now, twenty-five years later, she was getting older and her students seemed to be just as wild and excitable as they always had been.

This school trip hadn't exactly been planned by the school, not fully anyway but a generous donation from who knows where had her and a few other teachers taking a three classes of wiggling and excited five year olds to a home match for the Barcelona women's team.

"Let's get to our seats now," She says, trying to get everyone in her class seated and happy but it's like trying to fight a group of wet cats - a losing battle.

"Miss, he pushed me!"

"Miss, I want to sit with my friends!"

"Miss, I can't find my bracelet!"

"Miss, my Mami gave me spending money!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

"Miss!"

She sighs to herself, rattling off instructions in a way that only a practiced teacher could.

"Lucas, stop pushing people. We use our nice hands with people. Isabella, you can sit next to your friends if there's space. Ana, your bracelet got put into your bag. Pedro, spending money can be used at half time. Now, everyone needs to sit down or else they won't start the match!"

It takes a little while to get all the kids settled and she briefly thinks about how this would be a hell of a lot easier if the school had more people who could chaperone.

It's a fleeting thought because she knows she can't do anything about it now but still, it would be nice.

Nice like it is now to watch one of her old students walk out as one of the most well known footballers not only in Spain but the world as well.

Alexia Putellas, the captain of Barcelona, leads her team out - head held high and back straight. A far cry from the little girl that used to slump in her seat in class and cry when someone took her ball at breaktime.

There weren't many students that she remembered so well - a handful that have ended up in politics, one that somehow ended up at the UN and one whose arrest made national news.

But Alexia was one of the good ones, helpful and polite most of the time.

She can remember though, with startlingly clarity the second day of classes.

It had been her second day as a teacher ever and she'd been supervising the playground at lunch when Alexia had appeared and dragged her off.

She'd dragged her all the way to the slide where you'd been waiting.

"You have to marry us, Miss," Alexia had said, eyes wide and incredibly earnest," We want to get married."

"Er..."

"You have to, miss," You'd joined in," Because we're in love and my Papa always said that people in love get married."

She'd been speechless then but still done as you and Alexia said, a little charmed by those two little girls begging to be married under the slide.

Alexia was easy to follow now, her exploits known throughout the country on and off the pitch. You'd faded though and your old teacher wasn't quite sure where you'd ended up.

Likely something successful and important.

Even as a little girl, you'd had a good work ethic. Work before play, always, was something you'd abided by.

She could see you as something important now. Your parents were doctors, she's pretty sure, so maybe you followed in their footsteps.

It would suit you, she thinks as she watches Alexia slam the ball into the net for a third time today.

Barcelona wins.

But that's entirely to be expected.

What isn't expected though, is for the staff from the team to invite the classes down onto the pitch to meet the players.

"Carlos, don't run! Mia, don't yell over someone! Lucas, again! Stop pushing people! Everyone will get a turn!"

"Some things never change then."

She turns with a smile. "Alexia."

"Hi, Miss."

"You don't have to call me that anymore."

Alexia's brow wrinkles. "What else would I call you? You've always been my teacher."

"You're an adult now, Alexia. You don't have to call me that anymore if you don't want to."

"But I do. Is that alright?"

"That's okay. So long as you want to."

Alexia beams, the same big smile she had as a five year old when she would come to the desk with a picture she drew of herself in the Barcelona kit.

It's still strange to see that exact image in real life.

"I'd like to introduce you to one of my daughters. This is Maya."

"She's beautiful."

"Mi Amor is just changing our other daughter. They'll be out in a minute."

"It's nice to see that you're doing so well. A good job. A nice family."

"We have dogs too! And my wife's old cat! She built me a house, you know? My wife, that is. Not her cat."

It's nice to see that Alexia's word vomit from her childhood hadn't changed much either. She was so stoic and quiet most of the time but any topic that drew her interest could be (and would be) talked about for hours at a time.

"That's nice to hear, Alexia."

"And we bought a villa in Greece for our next holiday! And I bought her this nice matching bracelet and necklace set! But! You can't tell her because it's going to be a surprise!"

"A special occasion?"

Alexia looks affronted at the idea. "I don't need a special occasion to show my wife how much I love her! Just my love!" She turns, glancing over her shoulder and her whole face lights up. "Oh! Amor, you're back! Look, Miss Rivera is here!"

Miss Rivera looks over to the tunnel where you have emerged from, a babbling baby on your hip and a rock of a ring on your hand.

"Oh, hi, Miss!"

She sighs. "I told Alexia that you two don't need to call me that anymore."

You frown. "But you've always been our teacher. What else would we call you?"

"Miss, this is our new baby Elena." Alexia puffs out her chest proudly. "My wife gave birth to her. Doesn't she look good for giving birth a few months ago?"

You slap her on the shoulder before pressing a kiss to where you just slapped. "Don't listen to her, Miss. She'll take any excuse to talk about it."

Alexia nods solemnly. "It was very scary because there were complications but she's doing so well now. Both Elena and my wife. Right, Amor? She's a doctor, you know. Very successful."

Again, Alexia seems to preen like a peacock as if you being so successful and so smart brought her such pride.

"You've both been very successful," Miss Rivera says," I'm so proud. A long way from that marriage under the slide, huh?"

You grin, intertwining your fingers with Alexia's.

"But still married."

[lavenders388]

HII!!

could we please get some kang dae ho x reader??

something where he’s a bit of his usual himbo self and the reader is maybe a bit airheaded— something about two people being in love with one another while the world around them is burning is amazing.

~Flowers in December~

<3 Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

authors note: i am amazed by the amount of requests and also so flattered!! I am so happy to get back into writing not only for myself but to be able to make other people happy to see their ideas come to life!! i apologize if this has some flaws i cant wait to get more practice in and promise the next will be better!! feedback is always appreciated! thank you all so much!!<3 -matcha

~~~~~~~~~~~⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆~~~~~~~~~~~

...

~takes place during the second night~

"we should all take turns keeping watch over the group" player 456 urged as the warning for lights out echoed throughout the room, the rest of the group silently agreeing- trusting the man who claimed to have been in one of the previous games, leaving as the sole survivor. you were, as were many others, reluctant to believe that he had done all of this before, but after his help in the first game and joining his team for the second, you grew to trust him; and the other members of your group. the man that had been assigned your partner for keeping watch was coincidentally a member you were drawn to specifically- at first because he was close to your age, his boyish face making you feel a little less scared and alone in the second game, and eventually you appreciated his outward personality and kindhearted confidence, a stark contrast to the situation you both were in. as you sat together, although trying to protect your group from whatever could happen in the dark room, you felt even safer. "how in the world did you pull that off?" you broke the silence with a whisper, referring to him playing gonggi in the previous game. "my hands were shaking so badly i could barely even hold my ddakji." he laughs, a bit louder than he should have given the people sleeping, but it made you smile. "i told you all i played with my sisters!" he chuckles. "you said you know how to do it yeah," you retorted, stifling a giggle at him being unaware of the compliment. "you didn't tell us you were amazing at it, that was a surprise." he turns away, embarrassed of how deeply your compliment made him grin and scared you'd see him blushing even in the dark. "thank you y/n." he says bashfully as he regains his composure. the silence returns; the reality of where you're both having this conversation threatening to creep back in. his gaze softens as he turns to you again, "you did really well with your ddakji you know, doing it the first try is really impressive, especially given the circumstances." you smile, a toothy grin as not only are you proud of yourself but you appreciate the compliment; especially from him. the kind, authentic way he states how good you did has you unable to find a response. "t-thank you" you say, blushing and still smiling. "it helped that nobody was there, i get nervous when people are watching me." his demeanor changes. he nervously runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry if i made you nervous, y/n" he says sincerely. your confusion shows on your face until you realize what he means. "oh no don't worry! i meant the crowd, like how everybody was cheering for the other teams! i didn't want them all to see if i messed up. you watching me helped actually. it made me less nervous." the silence returns; comfortingly. you've forgotten where you are, you've forgotten what would have happened if you'd messed up, all that's on your mind is the man sitting next to you. when you look back he's staring at you. smiling. "thank you for being on my team." you say to him as he turns away, trying to hide how long he was looking at you. you've never seen him speechless before. "if we work together nothing can stand in our way." he said to you just as he said to jung bae before the game. "i am truly honored you feel that way." you half-joke. "what are your plans for tomorrow?" you ask as if youre speaking to him in a normal situation. "oh wait im sorry!" you laugh. "well i bet they're the same as mine then!" you joke about your forgetfulness as well as making light of where you find yourself. like hes done for you, he also had forgotten the events of the day and what followed tomorrow. the two of you talking made him feel as though he was living a good, normal day. it was greatly appreciated by him, your bubbly nature being a moment of solace.

a/n if this is buns at all please lmk what i can do better!!! ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[witherby]

Part 7 of mer!reader?🫣🫣🫣

Of course! I think it's time to get you and Damian back together.

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 7

Masterlist with all parts Here!

Content features upsetting Mer behavior and unsafe diving practices. Wear your protective gear, people!

It takes another month for your routine to settle back into a semblance of normalcy. The specialists Bruce told Damian about had spent three days observing your behaviors and drew up a detailed care plan to help you recover as best as you could, which the facility follows with great enthusiasm.

You wake up and swim to the entrance of the tank to receive breakfast from Jon. Afterwards, he and Clark gently roll you out of the tank to apply weird-smelling salves to the patches on your tail, encouraging it to heal correctly and for new scales to grow. You sit and wait for the salve to absorb, then you get back into the water to play a little, and then it's Attention Time.

You swim all the way to the bottom floor of your tank, where visitors come admire you through the tunnels under your tank for several hours. Sometimes you have the energy to do a trick or two.

Then, it's back up to the top of the tank for dinner, more playtime, and then you get to sleep until tomorrow where you do it all again.

But the lethargy remains. The stinging, empty space in your chest only seems to grow the more you see Damian dispassionately leading tours and refusing to look at you. Of all the people that come to admire you, the one person whose attention you actually want, you cannot get.

Jon, bless him, is trying so hard to keep you happy. He talks to you every day, he gives you tons of treats, he swims with you as long as you want him to, and he's given you so many new toys that they've overtaken your cute rock collection. His effort is why you're doing your best to hide how bad you still feel.

And his company does help! It does. You can comfortably call him a friend, and mean it. But you are so tired. You miss Damian so much. You feel drained, and the urge to remain inside your little hideout gets stronger every passing day.

Every night, in the comforting darkness of your castle spire, the old bricks pressing against your body and shielding you from the rest of the world, you allow your thoughts to drift back to the boy with beautiful, emerald eyes without fail.

You think of the first time you met him, and how he looked at you as just another dumb animal in the aquarium for him to care for. You think of the first time you made him realize you were so much more — how you'd done every trick he commanded with such attitude and even mocked him back that he actually cracked a smile. You think of the first time you pulled him into the water to show him your favorite parts of your habitat, and then how he reassured you it was fine that you almost drowned him by accident because he knew you hadn't meant to. You think of all the times he snuck in after hours to spend just a little more time with you, to play just one more game, to ensure you didn't feel like another part of his job he had to do but someone he genuinely looked forward to seeing.

You think of the pretty blush on his face when you mustered the courage to give him your scales.

You think of all the gifts you left him afterwards, and how you didn't get any back.

You think of his dispassionate expression as he leads another group of visitors into your enclosure, day after day after day.

Your chest burns. You weep into the water and succumb to fitful slumber.

--

"I need a dive team to the Mer tank please! Right now!"

Damian furrows his brow, momentarily pausing his work. He's in the dolphin exhibit currently hand-feeding them when the announcement comes over the speaker system. He wonders what you're doing to have freaked Jon out, but it's not his place to care anymore, so he tries to push the curiosity from his mind and refocus on his task.

One dolphin in particular is pretty bad about taking food from a handler. It's also just food aggressive in general, bullying its pod-mates out of the way to get to the food first. Damian can't help but compare how much smarter you are to these animals. He sighs.

"Doctor Kent to the Mer exhibit!"

Hmm. Did you breach your tank again? Or maybe you bumped your body against the spire you like to sleep inside. Damian tried to tell his father that the rough brick texture could hurt your more vulnerable top half if not careful, but Bruce was certain you'd be alright. He wonders what kind of fuss you're kicking up today, if it's a real issue or if Jon hasn't been around you long enough to realize that sometimes you fake a problem because it's funny.

"All divers to the Mer exhibit please!"

Tim rushes through the door into the dolphin exhibit, startling Damian into dropping the bucket. He quickly backs up with a gasp as the dolphins swarm to the food and start gobbling it up. He faces Tim with a glare.

"Does nobody know how to follow protocol anymore? You're supposed to knock before you —"

"You need to get upstairs," Tim says, holding up an access key to your enclosure, "like right now. Vitals on our mer are really bad, we can't extract them from the spire and —"

Damian doesn't stick around to hear him finish that sentence. He snatches the key and sprints through the aquarium like the devil's on his fucking heels. His heart is racing and not from the exertion. He forgoes the elevator and starts rushing up the stairs three at a time, climbing floor by floor by floor to get to you as fast as he can.

It was a real emergency, then? What had happened? Jon was supposed to be taking care of you now. You were supposed to be recovering. You were supposed to be happier without him, now.

What was wrong with you?

There's no time to head into the locker room and get a wetsuit on. He jams the key into the exhibit door and throws it open, rushing into the room with single-minded focus.

Jon is in a wetsuit and treading water, relaying information to his dad with a worried frown. Clark is kneeling next to the tank and giving him instructions on how to get you to the surface. Dick is sitting on the lip of the tank and wiggling into a suit of his own, very unfamiliar with the gear as he doesn't dive with Mers. Bruce is on the phone and standing by Clark, looking more and more concerned as the situation develops.

When Damian bursts in, Dick startles and looks up at him, fumbling with the clasp on his flipper.

"Dami, go ahead and get a suit on. We need you to — DAMIAN!"

He doesn't think. Doesn't stop to listen to whatever Clark's rambling on about. Doesn't wait for permission before he kicks his shoes off, takes a running start, and dives into the tank in his plainclothes. He pedals his arms and kicks his feet as hard as he can and goes down, down, down, deeper into your vast tank and towards your favorite resting place. The effort is tremendous without the slim, hydrodynamic suit to aid him and a rebreather to allow him to stay down here for long periods of time. He pushes past it all and keeps going. You are in trouble and he is going to help you.

When he makes it to the spire and swims around to the entrance, he immediately sees the issue. Your body is curled into the mer version of fetal position; your arms are locked around your waist in an embrace and your tail is coiled underneath you in a tight spiral, twisted around itself and wedging you deeply into the cramped space. The angle of your body, coupled with the tight spacing of the hideaway, make it nearly impossible to pull you out.

In the wild, a mer found in this position is an almost universal signifier that they are near death.

If there's no intervention, you are going to die today.

Damian climbs into the spire with you, squeezing his body inside with a low grunt. A burst of bubbles escape from his mouth. If he can't pull you out — a dangerous move which would damage your tail and break your fins if they tried — he has to unfold you.

His back scrapes against the bricks and pain rockets down his spine. Another bunch of bubbles fly out. He grits his teeth and starts carefully pushing at you, gingerly moving your upper half, then your lower half, around and around and around to create enough space to safely push you free.

His chest is heaving. Damian is exhausted and quickly running out of breath. He cannot stop. If he stops, you won't make it.

He jerks when something jabs his ankle, arms wrapping protectively around you as his head snaps down to see what happened.

Jon is hovering just by the spire opening, holding a rebreather in his hand and shaking it insistently at him.

Damian reaches around you and makes a few grabs at it, finally curling his fingers around the device and pushing it into his mouth. He clicks the button to turn it on and almost coughs when oxygen starts to flow into his lungs. He slumps against you briefly, taking in your closed eyes and face twisted into agony.

What happened, he thinks. How did this happen to you, Princess?

His ankle is jabbed again. Damian looks back at Jon, who has his hands out in an offer of help. Damian gently starts to maneuver you around again, slowly but steadily unfolding your body, and when Jon catches on, helps do the same thing from your opposite side.

It is painstaking work. Dick eventually gets into the water to join in, but there's no room for him, so he hovers to the side ready to help carry your body to the surface when you're finally free.

It feels like it takes hours, but can't be more than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes too long in Damian's opinion. Eventually, your body is unwound enough to ease you out of the spire without injury, and the three men rush you to the surface where Clark and four other vets are waiting to take you. It becomes a flurry of activity after that.

Damian spits out the rebreather when his feet are back on solid ground. He pants and doubles over, limbs shaking from exertion, and watches the medical team assess your condition and fret over you. You're loaded onto a special stretcher and whisked from the room, and he's about to follow suit when a hand clasps over his wrist.

"No," he rasps, already gearing up the breath to scream at his father, but Bruce just shakes his head and presses a towel into his hands.

"Here," he says, voice soft and knowing. "Here, Tadpole. I just want you to get dry before you follow them into the medical bay. You can't help anybody if you get sick."

Damian clutches it, staring at his father with no small amount of trepidation. Bruce just sighs.

"I'm sorry, Damian. I am. We'll talk about it later, but I won't separate you two again. You have my word." He jerks his head toward the doors. "Go dry off and change in the locker room. I'll call Medical and tell them to let you in when you're done."

Damian throws his arms around Bruce, uncaring about how he's soaking his dad. Evidently Bruce doesn't care either, if the fierceness in which he hugs him back is any indication.

"Thank you," Damian whispers, then pulls away to head to the lockers.

[portraitsofguilt]

SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN jinx au/powder

content warnings.          18+ MDNI, suggestive/angsty content, gn! reader, hinted jock/masc reader, use of y/n (once), mentions of vi/caitlyn/caitvi, making out, kissing, seven minutes in heaven game | wc: 1,05k

author's note.   so if you ever saw grey’s anatomy and the part where derek tells mark to not touch lexie? yeah that mixed with 7 minutes in heaven because I’m in a mood lmao- hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

lose yourself sometimes…

that’s what vi always told her shortly before the incident. powder knew she meant well, that she wanted powder to be a little more reckless, a little bit freer than she was when vi started going to the academy, that she wanted her sister to make some mistakes and not regret them. that’s why she accepted the invitation to a party that was just before the first day of academy.

“powder and… y/n!” claggor said before taking another sip of his red cup. powder looked up from the bottle, eyes locking on your form as you down your drink and jump up after a couple of back pats from a friend.

you were an old friend of vi’s, started at the academy at the same year and the two of you went to the same gym and sports team all of your years up until… before everything happened, vi had you over more than a couple of times and powder has stared at you from her window more times than she wanted to admit, watching as her sister and you did your silly games and competitions. but how couldn’t she? you noticed her in ways no one did, she wasn’t just vi’s sister to you, she was powder every time you talked or mentioned her.

…and don’t miss out on the things I did.

the closet wasn’t a piece of furniture, it was a walk-in closet, the small room’s wall filled with expensive shoes and dresses that probably belonged to your friend’s mother.

“it’s rude to stare you know…” you trailed off, looking over your shoulder to find free space so you can lean against the wall. powder’s cheeks heat up, burying her face in her shoulder but still trying to steal some glances towards your way. your shirt was a lower cut than usual, your black jeans much tighter, perfectly capturing the curves and toning of your body.

“I never knew you noticed- you could have mentioned if it was making you uncomfortable!” powder muttered, sort of teasingly, taking a step to the other side of the closet. embarrassment washed over her face and how unfortunate that this room was so small there was no way you didn’t see her blush.

you chuckled, reaching out to take her hand and pulling her closer to you. “why are you nervous, powder? it’s just me,” you smiled, interviewing your fingers. you did this time to time, powder told you that it was calming, that the slight warmth of your hand and the smell of your smell.

“I’m nervous ‘cuz it’s you…” powder knew you would force her into anything, and maybe that’s why she was so nervous, because you weren’t. because that meant she has to be the one starting, starting something, she has never done too many times for herself.

‘and I’m nervous about missing out on you…’

so, powder did, leaning in to meet your lips and she was ready to for you to push her off, yell at her for what she was thinking. but the hand on her cheek wasn’t pushing her away, it kept still like it was afraid to move, a tad shaky-

was it because you were pitying her, that you didn’t want to hurt her feelings? and if not, was it okay to be asking for so much from you, it should be alright for you to let her, right? stupid powder… she’s already swept away by desire. the way her lips open when your tongue pushes against them, the way her body flushes against your and both of you tumble in the pile of clothes on the ground, powder falling into your lap.

she follows your lead, letting your tongue dominate her, letting her free hand grab the back of your neck to hold you close. she did her best trying to keep herself up and steady, moving her hand to your shoulder. powder was shivering from excitement, goosebumps exploding on her body every time you brushed your thumb against her cheek, deepening the kiss with little dips.

“more…” she whimpered, unlacing your hands, and moving it up your arms, bunching the fabric of your shirt between her weak fingers. your lips pressed into her neck, hand skillfully slipping to her chin, holding her so you could turn and move her as you pleased. your other hand tugging her shirt out of her pants, slipping a couple of fingers under the cloth and moving them up her side.

she knew what was coming and she couldn’t be more excited, maybe it was the alcohol that got her all excited beside you, maybe it was just that you have finally giving her what she has been waiting for. your out most and undivided attention, only seeing her, thinking about her, and wanting her.

“I think the seven minutes are up.” you murmured into the crook of her neck, placing on last kiss on her delicate skin before pulling away, patting the sides of her thigh to rush her movements, “I don’t… vi wouldn’t…” your voice falters as you help her up, assisting her fixing her shirt and hair. you pushed the door open, taking one last glance over your shoulder.

it felt like a lifetime ago, your promise to vi, to never to touch her sister but to help her find herself in this confusing world and to never let her lose out on things like she did on the girl she met at the academy. caitlyn was her name? you still see her around campus, but she is… not herself anymore.

“my promise to her? I think I just went against it…”

[sweetdispatch]

Who's a loser now - J. Hughes

Purple Chemistry | Previous Chapter

summary: Everything looked normal between you and Jack until the first game between Rangers and Devils

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), dom!Jack, spanking, orgasm denial, swearing

words: 1.2k

note: sorry for the wait🧸

---

In the middle of October, Jack showed up at your place. The first time since the fight you had. You were delighted to see him again. Straight to the point, he kissed you and you ended up in your bed. This time, he hadn’t left you and stayed for the night. You were happy that he didn’t run away. You woke up to an empty spot in your bed and thought that he left. You went to the kitchen to start your day with breakfast when you saw him sitting on the couch. 

“I need a favour from you” He started.

“I’m listening” You started to prepare yourself a cup of coffee.

“I have a halloween party and I need a pair. Can you go with me?” He asked you with hope in his voice.

“You want me to go to Devils halloween party? You’re funny” You laughed at the thought. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” 

“Nothing but” You took a deep breath. “Don’t you think it’s gonna be weird for me to show up at your party while I’m standing on the opposite side?” 

“No one needs to know you're a Rangers fan. I promise, I’ll keep that to myself. Please” He begged you.

“Fine but you owe me Jack” 

“Anything” He stood up and kissed your cheek. “I’ll send you all the informations later” 

As promised, you went with Jack to the halloween party. You two decided to dress up as Spongebob and Patrick. It summed you two perfectly as friends. Everything was going smoothly until you met Jack’ brother, Luke. You were chatting with him and learnt a lot of things about Jack which you never heard before. It was great until he pointed out your hockey team.

“You know, it’s brave to show up to our party while being a fan of the rival team” He joked but you froze on the spot. 

“How did you know?” You whispered, not wanting others to hear it. 

“Jack told me that when you had a huge argument. He got back and started talking about how you were mad at him because we won against Rangers” 

“First of all, that’s not true. I just had a bad day and took it out on him. Ugh, I know it was a bad idea to be here. How many people know about it?” You started biting your own nails.

“No one. Jack told me to keep my mouth shut about it” You sighed.

You decided not to confront Jack about it. You knew that he wouldn’t lie to you. Actually he kept his promise because he told his brother about it before he asked you to be his plus one at a party. You understood that Luke is his brother and he tells him everything that’s why you held your tongue. You had a great night with Jack which ended up in your bed. It felt incredible to be close again with him but the tension was still there.

It was time for the first game of the season between the New Jersey Devils and New York Rangers. It was held in Prudential Center so it meant more for Jack because he played at home. After two promising preseason games against Rangers, Devils lost. Jack got two points in this game but he was pissed over the loss. 

You smiled when you saw the result. It felt incredible to win the derby in New Jersey. You couldn’t attempt this game but watched it at home. Remembering how cocky Jack was after the two wins in preseason, you decided to play his game. You sent him a cheeky message. 

“That’s why no one cares about the preseason games, enjoy the lost x”

It was a simple message and after you hit the send button, you didn’t really think about it. After Jack got ready to return to his apartment, he grabbed his phone and saw the message from you. He was furious. He didn’t reply to it but decided to drive to your apartment instead and take his anger out on you. 

After two hours, you heard loud pounding at your door. You went to open the door and you saw Jack who looked mad. Before you could say anything, he pinched you to the wall and grabbed your throat. You widen your eyes at his action.

“You think you’re funny huh? That it nice to read messages like this?” He asked you a question but you couldn’t answer. “I think you need a reminder who’s a loser here”

Jack pulled you by your arm and bent you over the kitchen island. In a quick move he took your sweatpants and underwear. The next thing you felt was his hand on your bare ass. He repeated this couple more times. With each spank, he was using more power. Tears were floating from your eyes but you enjoyed this change in him. When you thought Jack’ done with you, you tried to move but he kept you in the same spot.

“Don’t you fucking dare to move” He said through his teeth. “You won’t get so easily from this” 

Jack unbuckled his belt and got rid of his pants and underwear. He took off his suit jacket and pulled the wallet from pocket. He grabbed a condom and tossed the wallet on the ground. He pushed his whole length into you and started moving. He was thrusting hard into you and you tried to grab something. With each move your whole body was moving on the kitchen island. You were a moaning mess under him and it was turning him even more.

“Please Jack, don’t stop. I’m so close” You breathed out and heard Jack’ laugh.

“Funny that you think I’ll let you cum. You need to earn it and today, you didn’t do it” He said and spanked you again. 

You were surprised to hear this. Jack always let you cum no matter how mad he was. This was new to you and deep down you hoped that he'll give you an orgasm. There’s no way he leaves you undone - you thought to yourself. You felt his dick stretching your pussy and any minute you would cum. He could feel that too. He knows your body like the back of his hand. With one final thrust, he cum into the condom and pulled out of you before you could cum. 

“Why would you do that?” You cried feeling empty without him and unsatisfied. 

“I told you, you need to earn it and with this bitchy comment you’re far from that” He answered while putting his pants back on. “Be lucky that I didn’t edge you five times like I planned at first”

You put back your sweatpants and looked at him. Jack could tell that you’re mad at him. He caressed your cheek and pecked your forehead. Just like that, he left your apartment and you stood in the kitchen trying to process what just happened. You couldn’t understand why he was pissed at you after the text message but you couldn’t when he was mocking you about the preseason games.

Couple days later, Jack sent you flowers with an apology note. You laughed when you got them at work because that was cheesy from him. You wanted to stay mad at him but you couldn’t. He meant too much for you but you still felt like you’re his sex doll. No matter how hard you tried, he still wasn’t trusting you.

---

Next Chapter

[sheeple]

Puck you!

Genre(s): Modern!au / Ice hockey!au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Ice hockey player!Mattheo Riddle x Reader Summary: You decide to go to an ice hockey game on your own and end up with a broken nose, a round trip to the ER, and a boyfriend. Warning(s): Broken nose (obvs) / kinda rushed A/n: Is it kinda inspired by a Saturday evening of mine? Who knows? [Masterlist]

It was stupid. Who goes to their very first ice hockey game all alone? Well... apparently you. You've tried to ask your friends and even your parents. But your friends were all busy and your father said, "I'm not going to spend my Saturday evening anywhere else except at home, on the couch." Spoiler alert: he and your mother went to a dinner with their friends that evening. Hypocrite.

So here you are, all alone and being very cold. You're having a great time nonetheless — even preferring ice hockey above soccer (don't tell your manager) — but even though you went with a sweater and one of your thicker winter coats, you are so damn cold! And seeing people pass by with steaming coffee you decide to get a hot beverage for yourself once the second break starts.

As soon as the buzzer sounds, you're out of your seat and off to the coffee corner. Smiling at the lady, you order a hot cocoa with whipped cream on top.

"How are you liking the game so far, dearie?", she asks with a kind smile.

Swallowing a big gulp of whipped cream, you wipe your mouth. "It's great! It's my very first one and way more brutal than I thought but it's so awesome. The cold's something I have to get used to", you laugh.

"Well then", she reaches behind the counter and pulls out a bright green beanie, "take this, love. Think of it as a welcome-to-the-sport present." She winks and you thank her profusely.

Seeing as the fifteen minutes are almost over, you quickly hurry back to your seat. But once you approach you see someone else sitting in it. No big deal, enough space. Moving further down, you spot an empty seat between two families and decide it's good enough for you.

Thanking the people who get up from their seats to let you pass, you quickly take place and put on the beanie. To your surprise the combo of beanie and hot chocolate does wonders.

The players skate back on the rink and the game starts again. Your hometown team the Green Snakes stand with 7 to 2 points before the Godrick's Lions and the crowd is electric. You know there's some age-old rivalry between the two teams — two cities really — that you never really understood. But hey, people need something to be competitive about.

For the so many-ith time, the game stops and number 86 is sent to the penalty box. Again. He's been playing rough all game, really firing his pucks at the opposite goal and knocking other players to the side. You pull up his profile on your phone to see who's behind the mask.

Number 86. Riddle, Mattheo. Hmm... he's rather handsome with his dark curly hair and, if you dare say, adorable smile. According to the Green Snakes' website, he's known for playing rough and getting up just as hard as he's knocking people down.

While you're distracted by your phone, you don't see how said player misfires a puck at the goal. It bounces off the sides before launching over the rink walls and into the stands. Straight at you.

With full speed, the black mini-missile lands right in your face. It bounces off your nose to be more precise. You feel it crack under the speed and pass out almost exactly directly.

Meanwhile, on the ice, Mattheo winces as the puck he shot hits the very cute girl straight in her face. He's been eyeing you the whole game that's also why he's getting so much time in the penalty box — to look at you but he won't admit that.

He wants to immediately rush off the ice and run over to the stands where paramedics are loading you on a stretcher. But the hand of his captain stops him and he shakes his head. "We can visit her after the game. It's only ten minutes left and then you can make sure she's fine."

Mattheo knows his captain is right but he can't focus on the game anymore. His coach switches him out for Malfoy and he sends the remainder of the time on the bench. As soon as the buzzer sounds the game is over, and he's off to the dressing room to have a quick shower before sprinting towards the medical bay.

When you came by, you were lying in a slightly warmer room than you remember. Wait... what do you remember? Hot chocolate, the beanie, 86, the puck. THE PUCK!

You shoot up and immediately regret it. The room spins around you and your head throbs. Your nose hurts like a bitch and you have an unrelenting runny nose. A nurse rushes over to you with gauze in her hands and presses it to your nose.

"Oh dear. Try to breathe slowly and through your mouth. I'm afraid your nose is broken. I've already called the doctor to set it straight for you".

"It's broken?", you say softly, not believing what you're hearing. Reaching up with a hand, you touch the tender flesh and hiss as pain flashes through your body. And now your head throbs, amazing...

As the nurse cleans up the bloody rags he turns towards you with a soft smile. "I'll tell your boyfriend that you're awake so he can come in."

"Boyfriend?", you echo perplexed.

That makes the nurse frown deeply and scribble something on the chard she's holding before exiting the room.

Since when do you have a boyfriend? You've surely hit your head pretty hard. How else could you forget a whole-ass boyfriend?

The door opens and a head with dark curls peeks around, scanning the room until his eyes fall upon you. As he closes the door behind him you recognise the guy. The one and only number 86 standing before you with a guilty look on his face. That puck for sure did a number on you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Considering I've gotten a puck against my noggin? It hurts and my nose is broken. And apparently, I've got a boyfriend in the time I was KO."

He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the edge of the hospital bed pretty harshly. "Yeah... Sorry about that. They wouldn't let me stay if I wasn't family or involved with you." You can see him cringe with the way he phrased that. "I'm really sorry about the whole puck incident. Coach always says I play too roughly and this just proves it..."

Before you can answer, there's a knock on the door and in walks a doctor followed by the same nurse. "Good evening Miss, how are you feeling?", asks the doctor as she shines a light into your eyes.

You throw number 86 a glance. "Despite that my nose is crooked and my head hurts, pretty okay."

The doctor hums. "So no dizziness, vagueness, or forgetfulness?"

You shake your head, slightly regretting the motion.

"Good. Good. I'll grab a colleague from ENT to put your nose back how it belongs and then you are free to go home. Sounds good?"

You nod and soon you're left alone with number 86 again. Breaking the silence, you hold out your hand and introduce your name. Even though he broke your nose, you still have manners.

He's quick to take your hand to shake it. "Matt. Is there any way to make it up to you?"

"You could let me break your nose in return?", you joke, but quickly backpaddle as Matt legitly seems to consider it. "No, you're crazy! It was a joke!"

Matt chuckles awkwardly and scratches the back of his head. "Can I take you out to drink once your nose is fine again?"

A small smile grows on your face and you nod. "Yeah... I would like that."

Around an hour later you let yourself fall on your bed; your nose bandaged and yourself still a little woozy because of the anaesthesia they gave you. You hold your phone dangerously above you as you stare at the text that has come in.

Hey! Looking forward towards our date next week! I promise you we'll stay off the ice (for now) This is Matt btw :) Goodnight

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 40 MY LOVE ALL MINE

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, jealousy

Jaemin would be lying if he said he wasn't excited. Well at least he was.

The sound of Y/n's voice, usually music to his ears was no worse than nails against a chalk board today, and he couldn't help but hope she'd stop talking. Quite frankly, he couldn't stand it.

She had been talking about Jay all day.

Even now, as she explained how she'd ended up somehow managing to burn a pot of pasta and had to call Jay to help her save it, he fought the urge to stuff his fingers inside his ears and stop listening.

Despite his usual patience, Jaemin felt himself growing more frustrated.

The tickling feeling in his stomach had quickly been replaced by a deep churning, bubbling inside of him, simmering, ready to boil over.

Small details he otherwise couldn't have cared less about, the heart next to Jay's contact name, the sweet texts he'd accidentally caught sight of, the fact that Jay and Y/n had so many pictures together that it was hard to find anything else in her camera roll. Jaemin pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. It irked him.

Her eyes lit up with every mention of his name, her smile seemed just a little brighter and her mood seemed to lift, like everything about Jay made her feel at ease, like he was perfect.

Jaemin wanted it to be him.

The giggles, the sparkle in her eyes, the pep in her step, God, he so badly wanted it to be for him.

For a moment, he almost forgot everything he had planned, things already not going the way he hoped. But still, he persevered. The day wasn't ruined, not yet. He could get over it. All he had to do was direct the conversation away from Jay.

Easier said than done when the man himself had magically appeared in front of him and Y/n inside the mall. Jaemin's fingers curled into a tight fist, teeth clenched together, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Jay lean in closer to Y/n a little further ahead of him.

A knot twisted in Jaemin's stomach.

He could see the girl’s smile, her eyes sparkling so much brighter now that he was in front of her.

That oh so familiar feeling bubbled up inside of him, hot and consuming, as he fought the urge to stride over and interrupt their conversation. The warmth of the room was suffocating, and Jaemin could feel his face flush with a mix of frustration and helplessness.

His mind raced with thoughts, replaying moments where he could have said something, done something differently.

But the wave of insecurity was fleeting, and as he marched over, there was just one thing on his mind.

Jaemin was a man on a mission, and he'd be damned if he let it all go to waste over something so trivial.

He moved quickly, with an indescribable urgency, reaching out for Y/n's arm, not caring who was watching.

"Hey Y/n, let's go." he had a grip on her wrist stronger than any other, not even wasting his breath to acknowledge Jay who stood opposite her as he dragged her away.

"But Jaemin I was talking to Jay." Y/n's retort fell on deaf ears, Jaemin's only focus being on making their way outside. Though he didn't fail to miss the way she apologetically waved goodbye. He rolled his eyes.

"Jaem, I was talking to him." She continued, softer, trying to pull her wrist from his grip, was he always this strong?

If he wasn't so focused, then perhaps Jaemin would've found the slight furrowing of her brows adorable, confused at his actions.

"Jaemin are you even hearing me?" she asked, growing restless in his grip as they finally reached the car park.

He sighed, letting his grip fall loose as he raked his fingers through his hair, huffing.

"I've been hearing you all day long."

Her heart dropped, his tone so much sharper than she'd been used to recently. His stare was piercing, his jaw set in a harsh line.

Y/n felt hot under his gaze. And her heart dropped when he exhaled, shortly and with the click of his tongue.

For a moment it was quiet, and their eyes locked. Jaemin's chest was rising and falling faster than ever before, the usual soft aura that surrounded him nowhere to be seen. His presence strong.

Y/n stood opposite him, perhaps just a few feet away, with her lips slightly parted as she stared at him in shock. So many emotions filled the air between them, each of them struggling to find the words to approach the situation.

"Do you like him?" Jaemin finally snapped, sick of the silence consuming them.

"Huh?" 

Jaemin scoffs.

If she wasn't before, Y/n found herself absolutely taken aback now. Jaemin had never acted like this before. It was weird, how he was being so... brash

"Do you like Jay?" he asked again, this time giving her no oppurtunity to respond,, "Because it's driving me insane. The way you speak about him like he's the only thing that matters, the way you look at him like he's the only one in the room. It feels like a punch to the gut."

Confused, Y/n parts her lips to speak, a sinking feeling in her chest at the slight crack in Jaemin's voice.

"What's wrong Jaem, what do you mean?"

She inched forward, taking his shaky hands into her own. Jaemin didn't protest, melting into her touch. But the fire in his eyes is far from extinguished.

"I mean, seeing you with him makes me go batshit crazy. When he looks at you with hearts projecting out of his eyes, I wonder if you like him the way I like you." Jaemin's cheeks burned, the words echoing in his ears, unravelling and honest. He hadn't expected it to play out this way. "I like you so much it hurts. And everything I've ever done, ever felt, it feels like it falls down the drain the second you smile at him. I'm jealous, "

He says, not lacking confidence for even a second, punctuating his words with harsh ragged breaths.

"I'm so jealous. Because I wish it was me you laughed at that way or me you called when you burn the new pasta recipes you try out. I wish it was me, I wish it was us who filled every corner of your camera roll. Forget like Y/n, I love you, and you never seem to see it."

When he's finished, Jaemin takes a moment to catch his breath but his eyes don't leave hers once— like he's studying every detail of her face, committing it to memory.

"Jaem.." she trails off, and Jaemin desperately holds onto his hope, praying that just this once, things would work out. His eyes bore into hers, searching, though hes not sure what for.

Her eyes had always held the world, always so open and honest yet right now, all Jaemin saw was the glow of his reflection staring back at him.

"I didn't know you felt that way," she pauses, as if to find the right words to say, but Y/n doesn't think she can, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

When Jaemin looks up, averting his gaze, she can only reach up, caressing his head with the utmost tenderness and care before guiding it back down. Her touch is feather light, almost like he's delicate, a vase ready to shatter and break with one wrong move.

Even now, as their eyes lock, faces barely even centimeters apart, Jaemin feels it, the rush of electricity that sparks through him. Like he's on fire.

His voice came out in a whisper, and suddenly that raw, gentle, caring side of Jaemin was stood in front of Y/n again, his presence warming.

"I was scared" A shaky breath fell from his lips, "I thought we would crumble, that we wouldn't be able to handle it. That we'd end up like before" he sighed, feeling so incredibly stupid as he heard his own words. "I thought we'd be over, for good."

A mix of vulnerability and fear shines in Jaemin's eyes, his heartbeat echoing.

He feels like he's on a tightrope, teetering, ready to fall and break with the slightest movement. But God, he's holding on for dear life.

"I didn't think y-" Jaemin cuts Y/n off, the tension palpable. He needs to know her answer. He needs to know now.

"That's the thing, Y/n, you don't think. I'm standing here pouring my heart out, and you're just... suprised? I need you to see me, peach. To really see me."

Her heartbeat raced, and for the first time ever, Y/n truly, genuinely and really found herself conscious of the way her cheeks flushed at the sight of the man in front of her.

His hair tousled in the wind, the tips of his ears turning pink— that was his favourite colour, hers too— his eyebrows were strong and arched. She realised everything she loved was held between those features, his compassion, his care, him.

That was it.

Despite all the people she'd loved in her weird and wonderful ways, it finally made complete sense. Why she never realised.

It was so hard to put Jaemin into words, because she loved him in a way she had never loved someone else.

Because Y/n didn't look at Jaemin and see just a boyfriend, a partner, or a lover—Y/n looked at Jaemin and saw forever.

Her forever only.

"I love you." She speaks with full surety and a big smile, tears welling in her eyes.

"Say it again." Jaemin holds his breath, needing to hear her once more before he lets himself go, to become truly vulnerable in front of the one person who meant everything to him. Forever.

"I love you, Jaem."

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES | I hate writing confessions I've come to realise, but its here guys, jaemyn is official ‼️ i also don't fw writing do u wanna be my gf/bf bs so you're gonna have to imagine that i just CANNOT do it without gagging, total me problem but it is what it is , maybe I'll grow up and write it into a bonus chapter or something 🤷‍♀️

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[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

Warden: You've never killed an innocent?

Zevran: Now there's an interesting word, "innocent." How many men do you know who can claim to be truly innocent?

Zevran: But if you're talking generalities, such as children and relatives and bystanders and such… never on purpose, but it happens.

Zevran: It's unfortunate, but death comes to us all. If not me, then some wasting disease. Or a fall down the stairs. Or at the hands of a darkspawn. It's all relative in the end.

Zevran: "Death happens," as we like to say. And when I get paid for it, death happens more often.

-

Zevran: In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women… and men, or whatever it is you might fancy.

Zevran: But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty. But confining.

-

Davrin: Lucanis, how do you decide when one of your targets deserves to die?

Lucanis: Usually when the client pays up front.

Davrin: I'm serious. Do you just kill anyone?

Lucanis: No. There has to be merit.

Davrin: "Merit?" Who decides that?

Lucanis: The Talon of the house.

Davrin: And then you just carry out the order?

Lucanis: It's my job.

Davrin: Must be tough to sleep at night.

-

Lucanis: You kill for a living, too, Davrin. How do you sleep at night?

Davrin: Like a baby. The things I hunt are pure evil. Monsters. There are no shades of grey with darkspawn. But you...

Lucanis: Provide a service.

Davrin: What if your target doesn't deserve to die?

Lucanis: Who does? Good, bad, everyone dies eventually. We just speed things up.

-

Emmrich: Do you have any say in your... targets?

Lucanis: You want to know if my victims deserved it.

Emmrich: Forgive me, I shouldn't have asked.

Lucanis: Everyone wonders.

Lucanis: I've never killed an innocent, by my count.

Lucanis: I cannot say if yours would agree.

-

Emmrich: Lucanis, do the implications of your work never trouble you?

Lucanis: Everyone on this team has killed before. I'm hardly unique.

Emmrich: Yes, of course. But in your case, it's a profession, rather than an act of necessity.

Lucanis: I'm not sure the Venatori or the Antaam see the distinction as you do.

-

Emmrich: I find it extremely interesting, Lucanis, that you consider the point of view of your enemies in battle.

Lucanis: I have to. It's much more difficult to find and kill them, otherwise.

Emmrich: Exactly! A utilitarian attitude towards death, and yet you extend empathy to your victims.

Lucanis: Not that much empathy.

Emmrich: Enough to wonder how the Venatori and Antaam view your actions.

Lucanis: Death comes to everyone, in time. I get paid to deliver it. Like a letter not everyone wants to read.

-

I think about this a lot. I'm always... surprised when I see the talk that they're supposedly trying to make Lucanis into the perfect "cinnamon roll" in Veilguard, because his sweet personality doesn't "match" his profession and background. Like, no? That's a very surface level of looking at it, I think.

Zevran is like this, too. He is an incredibly chill guy, and when you romance him, he is also very sweet and vulnerable, despite being an assassin. They're not that different in that department. They were both trained to be assassins since they were children. They're both traumatized in various ways. But neither of them acts like a bloodthirsty, evil freak. But they both also take pride in the job they do (or did), and how well they can do it, and have no intention of stopping. And yet they both express surprising empathy. (Zevran argues against annulling the Circle! Quite extensively!) And they make pretty much the exact same arguments about being killers for hire, as shown above.

Death is a natural part of life. Sometimes it just comes sooner, because we're there to deliver it. There's (almost) no such thing as an innocent person, so my victims aren't innocent people. Therefore, I've never killed an innocent in my entire life, as far as I know. (At least not intentionally.)

And that's interesting and fun about them! It's beautifully deranged. Lucanis completes an assassination mission, slitting somebody's throat or what have you, and then goes on his cosy coffee break, satisfied with a job well done.

The fact that they both say that they've never, in their opinion, assassinated "an innocent", so it's all good, doesn't automatically make it true and doesn't mean it's not complicated, however. Not every line of dialogue can be taken at face value. As video game players, we're rather desensitized to this, but hearing this should normally be at least a little alarming. For a regular person, at least. And it is for the people in the game! Like Emmrich and Davrin. Davrin has several banters with Lucanis about it. Like, who decides when somebody deserves to die and which contract's going to get carried out? Well, the "CEO" of "the company," of course! What could ever go wrong that way? Emmrich tries to coax Lucanis into saying that he does feel something about the whole thing, because he really wants it to be true. While Lucanis is very matter of fact about it. He knows what the Crows are, and that's it. He doesn't glamorize or demonize it.

So, it definitely isn't that "Veilguard says that Lucanis has never done anything wrong ever in his life," just like Origins doesn't do it with Zevran. Both the men's attitude towards killing is warped in an interesting way, completely in line with their background and upbringing. It shows when Lucanis argues with Davrin about them both being killers, because it completely escapes him (or maybe he ignores it for the sake of the argument) how the killing he does (contracts where the targets tend to be people) and the killing Davrin (a monster hunter, a darkspawn slayer) does is of different kind entirely. His logic is flawed at that point. But to him, it boils down to the fact that "it's just a job," and "killing is killing," and "death is death" regardless of form, and that rightfully baffles Davrin to no end. If anything, it shows how the Antivan Crows are taught to hand wave the issue, because the arguments Lucanis and Zevran both present are too similar to be anything else.

Of course, Lucanis, unlike Zevran, as the grandson of the First Talon and her favourite, might have had some extra privileges and wiggle space in comparison, which might have allowed him to bend the rules sometimes, give him space to show more compassion and act more heroically, because people are complex and there are many layers to what each person might consider right and wrong (e.g. killing is okay in various circumstances, and slavers in particular can get fucked - hell, we do it in video games all the time), but still. The fact that his grandmother wanted to tap a new market, so she made Lucanis specialize for hunting mages, which ultimately led to him killing a lot of Venatori and blood mages, makes it cleaner, which is nice, but then again, we hardly know the full extent of all his work. Moreover, when you ask Zevran to tell you stories about his jobs, you don't get much dirt out of him, either. He talks about some of the goofiest ones he's had. One of his targets that he (unsuccessfully) participated in taking out, a royal that got his position through plotting and murder, he also describes as somebody so immoral he basically deserved it. Also very clean. (Compare both these guys with somebody like Blackwall who truly committed a despicable act of murder for money that we do know of. And this single crime sounds so much more upsetting than anything either Lucanis or Zevran describe. None of the things Zevran says is as awful, besides the murder of his lover, which is framed like it wasn't really his fault, because he was misled.)

It's also worth noting that Zevran talks about how he was the best the Crows had before he left and how it brought him respect, wealth, women, men, or "whatever it is you might fancy." All in all, it comes with benefits. By his own admission, he was well off. But of course that came with a catch, as well. The "gilded cage" Zevran talks about. But that's not what made him leave. It was the plotting, backstabbing, and ever present distrust in the end, which led to the biggest mistake he'd ever made. Much like him, Lucanis also mentions that he had a comfortable life before getting captured, in the same quest where he also talks about how he didn't actually have full control of his life. ("Even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me.") The gilded cage comes up yet again. And it was plotting and backstabbing that made him lose a year of his life in the underwater prison.

My point is: Lucanis and Zevran are both assassins, because that's what they've always been, they were trained to be assassins since they were kids, they have a very pragmatic approach to death and killing, which they were most likely taught or perhaps were forced to develop, and they both take pride in how good they are at their job, and express no intention of ever stopping. And yet they both show that they have a good heart in various other ways, turn out to be friendly and incredibly loyal, and even very sweet as lovers. Because people can be complex, and so can be fictional characters. Yes, they're very different men, with different problems and personalities, yet also not that different.

You can't think that Lucanis is "too good" without also thinking that Zevran is "too good." You can't have this problem with Veilguard unless you also have it with Origins, is what I'm saying. And I think this may also apply to some of the other Crows we meet in Veilguard.

[cherryxbooo]

Nothing lasts forever

Summary: Being a dedicated McLaren engineer with a cold demeanor means one thing: judgment. Trusting and opening up to a certain driver leads to a bigger mistake.

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: Angst

I had always dreamed of working for McLaren.

The team’s history, the legacy, the championships, everything about it had captivated me since I was a kid.

I’d spent years idolizing the drivers, the engineers, the people who made it all happen.

And then, there I was.

Standing in the paddock, a part of the machine I had once only watched from the sidelines.

The air felt thick with history, with success, with the roar of engines and the buzz of anticipation.

It was everything I had ever wanted.

But, as much as I tried to convince myself it was everything I had dreamed of, there was something that gnawed at me.

There was an ache deep in my chest that no amount of triumph could soothe.

I had arrived, but the reality? The reality was a constant weight on my shoulders that I wasn’t prepared for.

I’d imagined walking into the garage, feeling the excitement of the team, and being welcomed as one of their own.

But instead, there were whispers.

Quiet, cutting whispers that followed me like a shadow.

I could feel the eyes on my back, the scrutiny, the judgment.

It didn’t matter how many hours I put in, how many sacrifices I made.

The rumors about me spread faster than the engine roar on the track.

I wasn’t the “right” kind of person.

Too focused, too ambitious, too cold.

Too much of everything that didn’t fit their ideal.

And it stung.

Every word. Every glance. Every offhand comment.

I tried to tell myself to ignore it. That they were wrong, that I had a place here because I earned it.

But each passing day, each race weekend, it felt harder to believe that.

The weight of their expectations, their judgments, it was like suffocating under a blanket of misunderstanding.

The worst part was when the comments came from the people I thought I could trust.

From the people I worked alongside. The people I shared ideas with.

How many times had I stayed late, just to make sure everything was perfect? Just to be sure I was giving it my all?

And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

The world outside the track didn’t care about my dedication.

They cared about who I was, who they thought I was, and who I wasn’t.

It felt like every tiny detail of my life was scrutinized, dissected, and criticized.

So, I built walls.

Higher and higher, until they were towering around me. I kept my head down, kept my focus laser-sharp, kept to myself.

No one was going to see the cracks forming inside.

No one would ever know how often I lay awake at night, replaying everything, questioning my worth, wondering if all those whispers were true.

Was I too cold? Too intense? Too much of something that no one could accept?

Could they see me as I truly was, or was I just a puzzle piece that didn’t fit the picture they had in mind?

Then came Oscar.

The new guy, the fresh-faced rookie with that infectious energy.

He had that spark of hope, that belief in things I had lost along the way. He didn’t see the walls I built.

He didn’t seem to care about the rumors. To him, I was just another teammate. Another person to work with.

He didn’t judge me for how I carried myself, didn’t dismiss me for my focus. Instead, he laughed with me.

He challenged me in the best ways, without making me feel like an outsider.

For a while, it felt like maybe, just maybe, there was someone who didn’t see me through that lens of judgment.

Someone who saw me.

Oscar didn’t care about my reputation or the harsh words spoken behind my back.

He saw the work, the effort. And for the first time in a long time, I felt... like I mattered.

We started talking more.

Late-night debriefs, sitting alone after everyone else had gone to bed, dissecting the race, talking about what went wrong and what we could have done better.

I listened to him, really listened.

He told me about his journey to Formula 1, about his struggles to prove himself, about his dreams.

And in turn, I opened up. I shared my frustrations. My doubts. I talked about the battles I fought every day just to be here, just to be seen.

I never expected him to understand, but he did.

He didn’t judge.

He listened.

One night, after a particularly brutal race weekend, we found ourselves alone in the garage.

The others had already left for their rooms, and the garage was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the equipment.

I was staring at the car, my mind a whirlwind of calculations and what-ifs.

Oscar walked up to me, leaning against the tool chest, arms crossed, his usual easy smile softened.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

I didn’t turn to him immediately.

I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“I just... I just can’t stop thinking about what went wrong. There were so many little things that could’ve been fixed. If I had just—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not harsh.

“You’re one of the best at what you do. Don’t let one bad weekend define you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Easier said than done, right?”

He chuckled softly, pushing himself off the tool chest and walking closer to me.

“I get it. But you can’t carry that weight on your own. You’ve got a team here. Me included.”

The sincerity in his voice hit me harder than I expected.

I finally looked up at him, and for the first time, I saw not just the rookie but someone who genuinely cared.

Someone who wanted to help. It was almost too much to take in.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he added quietly, almost as if he was afraid of scaring me away.

I swallowed hard, feeling something stir inside me, something I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

Hope.

I nodded, unsure of how to respond. “I... I know. It’s just hard.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes softening.

“But you don’t have to have all the answers, all the time. Sometimes, it’s okay to lean on others.”

His voice lowered.

“Especially if that means leaning on me.”

I felt a warmth bloom in my chest, a sensation I hadn’t allowed myself to experience in so long.

Maybe it was okay to let someone in.

Maybe Oscar was the one person who could help me see things differently.

The next few days were full of more small moments that made my walls tremble.

We found ourselves in those quiet spaces between races, just talking.

I’d laugh at his dry humor, and he’d listen as I explained things I thought only made sense in my head.

He didn’t rush me. He didn’t expect anything from me except honesty.

One evening, as we sat on the pit wall, watching the sunset after another long practice session, he nudged me gently with his shoulder.

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the ice queen,” he said with a teasing grin,

“you’re actually kind of fun to hang out with.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.

“I’m not that bad, am I?”

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think it over.

“Maybe just a little. But that’s what makes it fun.” He nudged me again, this time making me laugh out loud.

It was a soft, genuine moment.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to feel it, really feel it.

The connection we were building was something I didn’t expect, something that was slowly chipping away at the walls I had so carefully crafted.

Oscar was breaking through, piece by piece. And it scared me. But in the best way possible.

But nothing lasts forever right?

The morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting long, amber-hued shadows over the paddock.

The air was still cool, with a slight breeze stirring the flags and team banners fluttering gently in the wind.

The hum of the pit lane was just starting to pick up as teams were making their final preparations for the day’s race.

Oscar and Lando stood by the car, both immersed in the quiet but urgent task of fine-tuning the machine that would carry them into the competition.

Oscar, his focus unwavering, leaned over the rear wing, adjusting a setting on the aerodynamics.

His fingers moved with practiced precision, checking measurements, recalibrating.

He didn’t take his eyes off the components as he made the final tweaks.

The team relied on him to deliver his best performance, and he wouldn’t let them down.

Lando, on the other hand, leaned casually against the car, arms crossed, watching Oscar work.

There was an easy-going air about him, a stark contrast to the intensity radiating from Oscar.

Lando's eyes followed his teammate’s every move with a small, amused smile on his lips.

It wasn’t that Lando wasn’t focused; it was just that he had a different way of working, more laid back, like everything was under control even if it wasn’t.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke, breaking the quiet concentration.

“I have to admit,” he said, his tone light but thoughtful, “Y/n’s not as bad as I thought.”

Oscar glanced up from his task, a small, surprised smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah? I’ve noticed that too. She’s... unique.”

Lando chuckled, nudging him playfully with his elbow.

“Unique, huh? You mean cold and distant?”

he teased, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Oscar’s expression softened, and he straightened up from the car, wiping his hands on his overalls as he met Lando’s eyes.

His smile faltered for a second, but only for a moment.

“She’s not cold,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious.

“She’s just... guarded. And I think once you get to know her, you’ll see a different side.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, and took a step toward him, crossing his arms as he leaned in slightly.

“Really? You’ve spent a lot of time with her, huh? I didn’t think you’d put up with her cold demeanor. I mean, how do you even manage it? She’s like a brick wall sometimes.”

Oscar’s fingers tightened on the tools he was holding, but he didn’t let the tension show on his face.

He took a breath before speaking. “It’s not like that. She’s actually very sweet once you get past the walls she’s built.”

His voice softened, as if speaking about something fragile.

“There’s more to her than people realize. People don’t take the time to see that.”

Lando frowned, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Oscar, clearly unconvinced.

“Sweet? Dude, you’ve got to be kidding. I don’t know if I’m buying that. I mean, have you seen how she reacts to people? Most of the time, it’s like she’s trying to push everyone away. She doesn't smile, doesn't really talk unless she has to.”

Oscar hesitated, the flicker of unease in his chest threatening to break through, but he pushed it down.

He didn’t want to let Lando’s skepticism affect his thoughts about Y/n.

He could feel something real there, something that couldn’t be captured by just looking at the surface.

“I think you’re wrong,” Oscar said, his voice firm, though the unease lingered at the edge of his words.

“She’s just... been through a lot. I can see it in her eyes. She’s been hurt before, but she’s not who people think she is. She just needs someone to understand her.”

Lando’s face darkened slightly, his expression hardening as he stepped closer, his voice lowering to a more serious tone.

“You’re really going to let her fool you, huh? What if she’s just using you, Oscar? What if she’s trying to win you over for something, like fame, or to get information out of you? People like her, they’re good at manipulating others. They know how to get what they want, and you might just be her latest target.”

Oscar’s pulse quickened at Lando’s words. His grip on the tools tightened until his knuckles went white.

His initial instinct was to push back, to tell Lando that he didn’t know Y/n like he did, but the words hit a little too close to home.

He tried to control the rising heat in his chest, not wanting to let it spill over.

“No,” Oscar finally said, his voice quieter, though the defensive edge was still there.

“I don’t believe that. She’s not like that. You don’t know her the way I do.”

Lando’s gaze shifted, his brow furrowing as he leaned in closer, his tone shifting to something more insistent, more urgent.

“Come on, man. I’m just looking out for you. You’re still new here. She’s smart, and she’s got a way of getting people to like her, but it’s all for a reason. Maybe she’s just trying to get close to you for some advantage. I’m just trying to warn you before you get too deep in. You should keep an eye on her.”

Oscar felt a tightening in his chest, a flicker of doubt threatening to cloud his judgment.

He wanted to trust Y/n, to believe that the connection they had was real, but Lando’s words were like a seed planted in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t ignore.

He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling.

“I don’t think I need to be worried about her,” Oscar replied, his voice firming again, though his hands were still clenched.

“She’s been nothing but professional with me, and I trust her. I’m not going to let something like this ruin that.”

Lando sighed, his posture relaxing just a fraction, though his concern was still evident.

“I hope you’re right, mate,” he said, his voice quiet but serious.

“Just keep your eyes open. You might be seeing things through rose-colored glasses right now, but trust me, people like her don’t change easily. Don’t let yourself get hurt.”

Before Oscar could respond, the team was called for practice, the urgency of the situation pushing the conversation aside.

Both drivers were pulled into the whirlwind of final checks and preparations for the race.

But even as they walked toward the garage, Oscar couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Lando’s words had left behind.

He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but the doubt lingered, simmering beneath the surface.

He caught a glimpse of Y/n as they made their way to their cars, and for a moment, he found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, Lando was right.

Could she really be hiding something?

Or was it just the fear of getting too close to someone who had built walls around herself for so long?

Oscar didn’t know, but what he did know was that he wanted to figure it out, he couldn’t just dismiss her like that.

He took a deep breath and forced the thought away.

The race was about to begin, and there was no room for distractions now.

But as they took their positions for practice, Oscar couldn’t shake the lingering doubt that now danced at the edge of his mind.

Later that afternoon,

after the chaos of the post-race debrief, I was given a simple task, one that I had done countless times before.

I was asked to grab some papers from the drivers’ room that had been left behind after a last-minute meeting with Oscar.

It's an easy. Simple. Routine. Right?

I pushed the door open to the driver's room, the quiet atmosphere inside making me feel alone for some reason.

I started sifting through the papers on the desk, the disarray mirroring the mess in my head.

Coffee cups, race schedules, notes from the meeting, all scattered in a haphazard way.

Then, my hand brushed against something, and before I could react, I heard the unmistakable sound of a phone hitting the floor.

A loud thud.

I froze.

Oscar’s phone.

My heart skipped a beat as I bent down quickly, my fingers shaking slightly as I scooped it up.

I checked it over anxiously, my mind racing.

It seemed fine, no cracks, no shattered screen. Just a small scratch on the corner, nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and, for a split second, considered just leaving it there on the desk.

Maybe pretending it hadn’t happened would be easier than facing him.

But before I could even make the decision, the door swung open.

Oscar stood in the doorway, his gaze immediately locking onto the phone in my hand.

His eyes flicked from the phone to my face, his expression shifting in rapid succession, surprise, confusion, and then something darker, something colder that made my stomach churn.

“What are you doing with my phone?”

His voice was tight, almost accusing.

I felt a lump form in my throat.

“I—I'm sorry, I knocked it over, and I was just checking to see if it was okay.”

His eyes didn’t soften. If anything, they hardened.

His jaw clenched as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that felt like the final barrier between us.

“Why were you going through it?”

His words cut through the air like a knife, and I could feel my pulse racing in my ears.

“I wasn’t going through it,” I quickly explained, trying to remain calm despite the panic rising in my chest.

“I swear, Oscar. I wasn’t—”

But he wasn’t listening. He cut me off, his voice rising with frustration.

“I just don’t get it,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“Lando was right, wasn’t he? You’re just trying to get something out of me. Trying to manipulate me.”

I stood frozen, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.

My head spun as I tried to process what he was saying.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Oscar’s gaze was cold, distant, like a stranger’s.

He took a step closer, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“I know what Lando said,” he spat, his words laced with frustration.

“You’re trying to win me over, aren’t you? Maybe you just want to get close to me for some advantage, information, fame, whatever.”

Each word stung like a slap. I felt my chest tighten, the weight of the accusations suffocating me.

I had spent so long building trust with Oscar, trying to make him see the real me beneath the walls I had built.

But now, it was as if all that effort had meant nothing.

“Oscar, I don’t know what he’s told you, but I swear, that’s not it. You have to believe me,”

I pleaded, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

But his gaze hardened further, like an impenetrable wall had been built between us.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Y/n. I thought I understood you. But now… I don’t know.”

The words cut deeper than anything he had said before. I felt them settle in my chest like a heavy stone, each one sinking further into the pit of my heart.

The silence that followed felt unbearable. Neither of us moved, the air thick with unspoken words and hurt.

Finally, Oscar broke the silence with a sharp exhale, his frustration palpable.

“I don’t want to argue with you right now.”

And just like that, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him with a finality that echoed in my chest.

The sound of the door closing felt like the door between us had been shut permanently.

I stood there for a long moment, frozen in place.

My mind raced, but the only thing that kept repeating in my head was how completely shattered I felt.

It wasn’t just the argument, or the mistrust, it was the way everything I had worked for, everything I had built with Oscar, had just come crumbling down in an instant.

And for the first time in a long time, I was completely alone.

Hours had passed since the argument, and the weight of it sat heavily on my chest.

The tension between Oscar and me still lingered in the air, suffocating and sharp.

I had kept to myself in the aftermath, buried in data and numbers, trying to escape the clamor of my own thoughts.

I needed the distraction, anything to keep my mind from spiraling further into the uncertainty of everything that had unfolded between us.

But as I walked down the narrow hallway, heading toward the garage, I heard the familiar voices of Lando and Oscar in the distance.

Their voices cut through the stillness of the hallway, and without meaning to, I found myself slowing down, drawn to the conversation like a moth to a flame.

I tried to stay calm, but something in my gut told me I wouldn’t like what I was about to hear.

“…She’s just so cold,”

Lando’s voice was low but carried a certain finality, like he was trying to convince Oscar of something he already believed.

“I’ve tried to get close to her, man, but it’s like she doesn’t even care. She’s got this wall up that I can’t get through. It’s exhausting and childish.”

Oscar’s response was quieter, but still audible.

There was a hesitation in his voice that I hadn’t expected. “She's cold... but I guess that's just how she is”

My heart thudded painfully in my chest, the pressure of the situation suddenly too much to bear.

I thought, no, hoped, that Oscar might defend me, at least show some understanding of who I really was, what I had been through.

But instead, it was like he was agreeing with Lando.

And with every second that passed, the pain inside me deepened, unbearable and raw.

Lando’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time.

“Whatever, man. Just keep an eye on her, alright? I’m telling you, she’s got her own agenda. You can’t trust someone like that. She’s been playing everyone, and I’m sure you’re next.”

I stood frozen in place, my heart sinking.

Oscar was quiet for a moment, and I could feel the crackle of tension in the air, even from where I stood.

Was he really considering what Lando said? Was he starting to doubt me too?

Finally, Oscar spoke, his voice quieter than before, but there was an edge to it now, like something had shifted inside of him.

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her. She seems suspicious and untrustworthy.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

My stomach twisted painfully, and it was like all the air had been sucked from my lungs.

That was it. He didn’t defend me. He didn’t trust me.

He was agreeing with Lando’s words, buying into the idea that I was some sort of threat, someone who couldn’t be trusted.

The space between us that had once felt so close now seemed impossibly vast, like an insurmountable chasm had opened up between us.

I felt the sting of betrayal rush through me, even though I tried to swallow it down.

My mind raced. How could he believe that? How could he think that of me, after everything we had shared, the small moments of connection?

It didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t like me to be the one who couldn’t be trusted, but here I was, questioning everything.

Turning on my heel, I quickly walked away, the sound of their voices echoing behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to face them.

I could feel the tears welling up, but I refused to let them fall.

Not now. Not when it felt like I had already lost everything.

As I made my way back through the hall, my stomach twisted with a kind of emptiness I couldn’t describe.

That was it. Oscar had chosen Lando’s side without hesitation. And that hurt more than anything.

The realization settled over me like a heavy blanket, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely alone in a place I thought I had found some semblance of belonging.

I had hoped for more from Oscar, but now, I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

What had we even shared if it could be so easily dismissed by someone who barely knew me?

Later that evening,

I found myself walking toward the tech area, my mind still reeling from the aftermath of everything.

The weight of the argument earlier that day had left me hollow, like a piece of me had been torn away and I couldn’t find the strength to patch it back together.

I wanted to drown out the pain, to lose myself in the data, in the work that always kept me busy.

But then, as I rounded the corner, I saw him.

Oscar.

We came face-to-face in the hallway, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly between us, the world around us fading as the air between us thickened with unspoken words.

My heart raced, pounding in my chest, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a thousand-ton brick.

The silence felt suffocating, every second of it making me feel smaller, more exposed, more vulnerable.

I could barely breathe.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hesitant, as if testing the air.

"Y/n, I want to talk about earlier. Please."

I couldn’t even look at him. His words felt like a distant echo, like something I couldn’t quite reach.

The sting of everything he’d said to me earlier, the doubt, the mistrust, burned too fiercely in my chest for me to react calmly.

I shook my head, my throat tight as I tried to hold it together.

My voice came out barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.

“What’s there to talk about? You don’t believe me. You don’t trust me.”

Oscar’s face softened, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name, but it didn’t matter.

The pain in my heart was louder than anything he could say. He stepped closer, like he couldn’t bear the distance between us.

His voice was pleading, desperate for me to listen.

“That’s not true. I said those things out of anger, out of frustration. Lando’s words... they got to me. But I swear, I don’t think you’re using me. I—”

I cut him off, my voice breaking with the weight of my emotions. I couldn’t let him spin it.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head furiously.

You’re just like everyone else. You heard one thing, and you turned your back on me.”

His steps faltered, and for a moment, I saw something like regret flash in his eyes.

But it didn’t change anything. Not anymore.

The damage had been done, and I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt.

“Y/n, please,” he said softly, reaching out, his hand hovering near my arm.

“I didn’t mean it.”

But his words felt hollow now.

I didn’t want to hear him apologize. Not when everything I had worked so hard to build between us seemed to have shattered in an instant.

I felt the tears welling up, burning my eyes, threatening to spill over.

My chest felt tight, suffocating under the weight of everything I had been trying to keep buried.

“You did,” I whispered through the tears. “You believed it. And now I can’t trust you either.”

Oscar’s hand dropped as if the weight of my words had physically knocked it from him.

The space between us seemed to stretch, a chasm that no words could bridge.

His eyes flickered with something like frustration, but I couldn’t find the energy to care.

“You’re always so defensive, always so closed off,” he said, his voice sharper now, tinged with anger.

“It’s exhausting. I can’t keep up with this anymore.”

I felt the sharp sting of his words, but there was something else beneath it.

Something that twisted in my chest.

“Maybe it’s because you don’t want to,” I choked out, my voice cracking with emotion.

“Maybe you just don’t want to understand.”

Oscar’s eyes turned cold, and his voice rose, filled with a rawness I wasn’t prepared for.

“You think you’re so much better than everyone, don’t you? You act like you don’t care, but deep down, you’re just scared. Scared that you’re not good enough. You’re scared of getting hurt, so you push everyone away. And it’s pathetic.”

I froze.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my breath caught in my throat.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

I was frozen in place, each syllable echoing through my mind, digging into the parts of me I tried so desperately to keep hidden.

The parts I had tried to lock away from everyone, including myself.

And now, here he was, exposing them in the worst way possible.

I trusted him, but he used my trust in him against me.

My worst fears, my deepest insecurities, laid bare before me in the cruelest possible light.

I didn’t want to cry. I couldn’t. But the tears came, hot and fast, and I couldn’t stop them.

I had built so many walls around myself, so many layers to protect the fragile parts inside, and now they felt like they were crumbling away with each word Oscar spoke.

Oscar’s expression faltered as soon as he realized what he had just said.

His eyes widened in horror like he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his mouth. This wasn't him.

He reached out to me, but the instinct to pull away was stronger than anything I had ever felt.

My body jerked back, my anger and hurt boiling over in that single moment.

“No,” I spat, my voice venomous and raw. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand dropped like a stone, and I saw the regret washing over his face, but it didn’t matter.

Not now.

Not after everything.

It seemed like he was regretting everything the minute he realized he was losing me.

But the damage was already done, and there was no taking it back.

I turned away from him, the weight of everything crashing down on me as I walked away, the tears falling freely now.

My heart felt like it had been torn in half.

I didn’t look back, because I knew if I did, I’d crumble.

The pain was too much.

I was almost out of the hallway when I heard his footsteps behind me.

He was following me.

“Y/n, please,” Oscar called again, his voice breaking through the distance between us.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, just let me explain.”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t listen to him anymore.

I had trusted him and believed that he saw me for who I was, and now… now he had shattered everything.

My heart felt raw, bleeding from the wounds he had inflicted.

I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him.

“You want to apologize now?” I asked, my voice trembling with the pain I could no longer hide.

“It’s too late, Oscar. You’ve already made your choice. You’ve already believed the worst about me.”

Oscar stepped closer, his face full of regret. “Y/n, I—”

“No,” I interrupted, shaking my head, my heart breaking in two.

“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep trusting people who turn on me the second something goes wrong. I’ve had enough.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

The silence stretched between us, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. But it didn’t matter.

The damage was already done, and I couldn’t forgive him, not now.

Not after everything.

With a final, bitter glance, I turned away and walked off, the tears still falling as I left him standing there, his apology hanging in the air between us, unanswered and unaccepted.

But one thing was for sure: I had to put myself first.

The end

[juyeoz]

˙ㅤ۪ 𓂋⠀FOR THE PLOT — AN 02z SMAU

003 ┆ chronicles of narnia 2 (0.6k words)

The Juniors game was fun. It was sad that they had lost, but at least they were sweet. Triple ball wasn’t so bad either. It might have been since you were with Haerin and another club member, but it wasn’t as dreadful as you thought it’d be.

However, that was before you saw the senior’s walk in. They were quiet and quite scary. You glanced over at Haerin who adjusted the blue cloth in her pocket and made her way to the scorekeepers. 

The match wouldn’t start for another 10 minutes, so you had a lot of time to kill.

“(Last Name)!” A voice called, causing your head to whip over toward the sound. It was Sunghoon, your friend from kindergarten. He smiled at you with a wave and you returned the action. 

You jogged over towards the boy and his teammates all while being careful near Sunwoo, the boy you found scary.

“How was it?” Sunghoon asked while placing his belongings on the wall behind their team bench. 

You shrugged. “It was pretty good. Not as bad as I thought it would be.” 

“I told you.” He replied with a smile. Sunghoon pulled his practice t-shirt over his head, practically showcasing himself shirtless in front of you and many others.

“What are you trying to show off?” You asked, disgusted. 

“What are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked and threw his t-shirt over his belongings while reaching for his jersey. 

“Are you trying to impress someone in the bleachers or something?” 

“I’m just changing.” He said and slipped his jersey over his head. 

“Really? It’s almost as if I couldn’t tell.” You joked, causing Sunghoon to smile. 

“Also, can you chest-pass the volleyball to me instead of rolling it? It helps me with my serves.” He questioned as you nodded. Whatever that meant, at least.

The boy began to wrap his fingers, satisfied upon hearing you agree with his request while you looked around in hopes that your friends were sitting in the bleachers as they said they would.

Three hands went up in a waving motion, catching your attention immediately. It was them. Your eyes brightened at the sight as you made your way closer to the bleachers while waving back at them.

“(Name)!” Karina called from above you as you smiled back at them. 

“Hi!” You cheered, earning more smiles from the four. 

“Here, wait, BeReal moment!” Karina said while holding out her phone as you and the four posed at the same time.

The four held up hand signs or did a silly face while you held up a peace sign and looked up at them. 

“She’s so small.” Nayeon said with a slight laugh while looking at the screen of her phone.

“What are you looking at?” A voice called from behind where she sat in class, causing Nayeon to flinch and almost drop her phone.

“You need to stop doing that! I’m just looking at a BeReal my friend sent me, look,” Nayeon said while showing the culprit—Jake—her phone screen. 

“Is that (Name)?” Jake asked, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the girl alone.

“Who?” Nayeon asked, confused.

“The girl who’s standing alone.” He explained and pointed at her.

“I’m not sure, I don’t know who that is.” She replied, still confused than ever. 

“How do you know her?”

“We were friends from second grade to fifth grade, but quarantine happened and we kind of drifted apart since I moved as well. We would email and text here and there, yet it wasn’t enough to keep our bond going.” Jake explained, a hint of dullness in his voice.

“I mean, I could ask if it’s her…” Nayeon continued.

“If you want, you can. I doubt she remembers me anyways.” Jake said while reaching over Nayeon’s shoulder for his duffle bag. 

“I’m off to practice now, see you later.” 

“See you…” She mumbled, still hung up on what Jake said earlier. 

Whoever this girl was, she must’ve been important to Jake for him to recognize her from such a far distance and a low quality image.

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ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST — @miumura @macapunoz @ch4c0nnenh4 @ancnymcnzjy

FTP TAGLIST — @enhypenlovre @love-lee @ikeulove @mnhpuppy @httpenhoon @yeonmuse @modanisgf @wilonevys @starry-eyed-bimbo @immelissaaa @woniefull @mymelodyfanatic @hollxe1 @rikiiisoob @parkjjongswifey @coqhee @heirdollies @domfikeluva @miszes @eyesonlybutterflies @suhwife @yuniesluv @right-person-wrong-time @haechsworld @butterflywonz @leehsngs @ddolleri @multifandomlovers-posts @t1iqaa @itsactuallylina

© JUYEOZ

[valkyriesno1fan]

Hi! I want to start by saying that I'm an Elriel, but my question is meant with literally zero hate. I don't want to start any more conflict, and I hope this doesn't come across like that. I'm just very curious about something.

When Gwynriels talk about Gwynriel's/Gwyn's book, what do you mean exactly? Because I really don't understand. Are you saying you think the next book will have Gwyn/Az as main characters (like Nessian in ACOSF), or that it'll be another Nesta book and therefore Gwyn will have a very important role in it and we'll see her relationship with Az grow "in the background" (as in we won't get their pov, just Nesta's)? Because ACOTAR (as a series) is at its core about the Archeron sisters. Or do you think there will be an Elucien book (so every sister will have a book) and then a spin-off/novella about Gwynriel with their pov?

I'm genuinely curious about this because I never saw any further explanation on the topic. Also, English isn't my first language so I really hope I don't sound accusing/aggressive or anything like that. Forgive me if that's the case and thank you for reading/answering 😊

hi! great question! you don’t sound aggressive at all don’t worry! i like to have normal civilized discussions about books, so thanks for asking your question:)

first i want to start by saying that it has never been stated by sjm or sjms team that the series is at its core about the archeron sisters. i don’t know where this idea came from. the only thing we know, is that there will be 2 more novels, and one novella. sjm has said that each book will follow one couple and their journey/story. so it’s literally impossible for the series to be only about the archeron sisters since we need at least 1 more novel about a character who is not an archeron.

i’m not saying elain won’t get a book. it’s been very clear that she will. i’m just not sure her book will be the next one, or the one after that, to wrap up the series. sjm said, when talking about the spin offs, that she wants to tell elains story, mors story and azriels story. i think it’s very interesting that she said it like that. why separate azriel and elain if they have the same story to tell? if they share the same book? i think one book will be elains (with lucien as other MC) and the other one will be azriels (with Gwyn as Mc). we could get the novella about mor (and emerie?).

i think where you, and a lot of other elain and azriel shippers get confused, is that it may seem we think it will be gwyns book. while i think gwyn will be the supporting love interest, i think it’s very clearly going to be azriels book. just like how cassian was the second pov/MC, but it was still clearly nestas book.

i’ve also seen the argument that sjm doesn’t write male centered book, which is why azriel won’t get a book. this also isn’t true. she wrote tower of dawn, a tog book, which was centered around chaol and advertised as such.

i think that if there’s one male character in acotar that has to get their own book it’s azriel. azriel has so many problems and issues with self worth/obsessions etc. that i think he really needs his own book. his issues are too big to be a supporting main character (like how cassian was with nesta). gwyn also has healing to do of course, but it’s not as drastic and big as azriel. her healing is the perfect amount for the supporting love interest.

same with lucien. lucien also needs to go on a healing journey, but elain has bigger issues, which is why the book will be centered around her.

it’s why i don’t think azriel and elain work, writing wise. they both have too much healing to do on their own, that if it’ll be elains book, azriels healing will be drowned out and if it’ll be azriels book, elains healing will be drowned out.

i hope this explains jt well. feel free to ask another question or message me :)

[the-teufort-nine]

My TF2 Fic Rec List [ Fanfics I've Read That You Should Too]

*cracks knuckles* right, let's get started! X Reader fics are not included bc I already did a list of them for an ask. Mind the tags and ratings, as always. I'll add to this as I collect more, but its decently long as is

Symbol Key:

** = Incomplete

~~ = Personal favourite

++ = Under 10k

SpeedingBullet:

~~Running Blind by TheTriggeredHappy

(( Scout's eyes are badly damaged in battle and for some reason, Medic's gun can't fix him. Until they figure out how to heal Scout, he needs someone to look after him and keep him safe.

Sniper is given the job.

[3rd person limited, Scout's POV, some character development done on a whim] ))

The SpeedingBullet fanfic. If you like Scout X Sniper, and you haven't read this one yet, I don't know what to tell you. You are severely missing out on not only a great romance story, but also fantastic team dynamics. Also has an available Podfic!

++From a Hospital Bed by SlightlyLessThanAnon

(( Jeremy wakes up in the hospital, his brain struggling the find coherent thoughts as the world churns around him, in and out of consciousness.

He finds the team may care about him a little more than he thought they did. ))

Short but sweet. More whole team fluff than strictly SpeedingBullet. Very cute.

~~Golden Brown, as well as its sister fic, Take Me Out by Ali_Ker (Alina_Kerrin)

(( After seeing his co-worker in a new light, Scout is faced with unknown feelings and a new, distracting perspective on things. ))

This lovely author can be found here under the handle @alikerao3

Grouped these two together because they are they same story, but told from the perspectives of Scout and Sniper respectively. Definitely a bit of a heavier read, especially for anyone who has dealt with Catholic guilt or internalized homophobia, but my God is it worth it. Don't just read one thinking it isn't worth it to read the other fic. Read both. Also, check out the song that inspired the title.

~~Going Through The Motions by AussieBookworm

(( Working under RED can be repetitive at times - but nothing like this. After a curse is fired his way, Scout is forced to live through the same day over and over and over again. It should be easy for someone as perfect as Scout to break the curse, right? As long as he doesn't have to confront the things he's been feeling towards Sniper it should be a piece of cake! ))

Possibly my absolute favourite TF2 fic right now. Scout gets character development out the ass, Demo has a prominent, important role, and there's a plot twist so good it had me tweaking out. TW for Suicide as a method used to get out of a time loop. Absolutely incredible, and it needs more love.

Gills and Gunpowder by popkeeki

(( Monsters are becoming increasingly rare. Between getting pushed to the periphery of society or being targeted by traffickers, life is hard when you are not (entirely) human. Like many others, Scout tries to keep his true form a secret. It has never really been a problem. That is, until a nosy teammate catches him mid-swim. ))

SpeedingBullet Mermaid AU!! Good luck finding a fic with this premise that also reaches this level of quality.

**~~Pet by Anonymous

(( Sniper's terrified of losing the one person he has in his life. It turns out there's a convenient solution to that: just make sure he has no way out, and the rest will follow.

Scout wakes up in a van he knows all too well, loopy and hungover, and Sniper's waiting for him.

*

Or: Learning to live with claustrophobia in small spaces Or: Making the best of assisted living Or: You can’t outrun a fucking bullet ))

Are you like me? Do you enjoy Scout whump and Yandere!/Possessive Sniper? SpyDad? Do you want more of it in your life? If the answer is yes, than Pet is for you! No NSFW, just pure, delicious kidnapping and one-sided love.

General Fanfic Recommendations:

++Something's Up With Respawn by Camelot_taurus, Old Works (HarveyDangerfield)

(( Respawn starts to glitch, and the Administrator sets Engineer to work fixing it.

It doesn't take long for him to find out exactly what's going ))

Super funny, weird little oneshot. Basically, Respawn starts glitching and producing fucked up, Paperjam Dipper-esque clones of the Mercs.

++Mask Off by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea. ))

Wholesome SpyDad fic. Spy actually acts like a dad for once, for his sick little bunny.

~~++Scout, Respond by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout wakes up in a dark, unknown place, with rocks bearing down on him and a spotty recollection as to how he ended up there in the first place. The only thing that keeps him sane is the voice of his team in his ear, telling him to talk, to breath, and, more than anything, to stay awake. ))

Scout gets trapped beneath a collapsed building, and receives comfort from his team over his headset while they race to dig him out. Super cute, definitely a must read, and I've done so more than once.

pick it all up (and start again) by bugbee

(( The clues had always been there, he had just never wanted to see them. Maybe neither of them had, instead content to deny the truth before their eyes for the rest of their days because it was better than confronting the alternative. Except Scout had died, and Spy wasn’t able to keep on pretending for his last moments. A part of Jeremy was glad for it, despite the simmering rage and betrayal and hurt. So when he tried to look God in the eye and tell Him that Tom Jones was his father… He couldn’t. Not really.

(Scout discusses his parentage with God, and stays dead for a little while longer. Well. A lot longer. On the plus side, he gets to attend his own funeral reception.) ))

An alternate take on Scout's death from the comics. Very Scout centric, obviously, and ends happily.

~~A Little Bird Told Me… by the_soup_specter

(( Medic learns a secret— something personal, powerful, big enough to cause a rift in the team of mercenaries that could tear two of them apart. And for once in his life… he’s not sure how to proceed.

With no better ideas, Medic decides to ask his fellow mercenaries for advice. But as dueling viewpoints begin to pile up, will he be able to make a decision before the team is changed forever? ))

Medic learns Spy is Scout's dad, and spills the beans. Everything turns out ok, but man the aftermath initially ain't pretty.

~~seven times he has to explain (and one time he doesn’t have to) by conner_is_alive

(( the trans scout obsession has me in a vice

also if i don’t vent my trans sadness i will literally rip a government building down brick by brick lmao ))

The fic that made me a trans Scout believer. If you're on the fence about that headcanon, maybe give this fic a read.

**~~Kith And Kin by BOREDGrace23

(( Mick never thought much of the BLU team. They were just clones, after all. Designed to be their opponents in a meaningless war.

That's why when he woke up, his vision blurry, his brain blistering from a headache like he'd just woken up from a hangover, and several burning questions about what had happened, he thought it was strange that they hadn't killed him already.

//

Or, BLU are clones and RED are decidedly not. They’re then forced to work together when their teams disappear. ))

If you like Emesis Blue, or horror in general, go read Kith And Kin. And when you finish, go give @boredgrace23 some love for such an incredible fic.

**++Der Junge by UpInFlamesWriting

(( Everyone on the team knows that Scout & Medic do not get along. They're like Sniper & Spy, except less bloodthirsty about it. Medic scares Scout, & Scout doesn't give Medic a reason to like him. When the two of them start being more than friendly all of a sudden, the team starts to worry, especially when it becomes obvious that Medic & Scout are keeping secrets from them. Scout & Medic are not about to tell the rest of the team that they are a pair of transsexual men, especially when Medic agrees to help Scout in his transition. For all the weirdness that goes on in the base, the world is not kind to queer people, & they aim to keep the reason behind their friendship a secret, even if it kills them. ))

Trans Scout and Trans Medic solidarity fic. I need more of this.

Eight Mercenaries and A Toddler by ChaosandMayhem

(( When Respawn malfunctions and their annoying Scout is turned into something far more precocious, it'll take all of the RED team's wits and patience to look after him. At the same time, Engineer must find a way to turn Scout back into an adult before the BLUs-or anyone else-realizes what's happened. No pairings, just a bunch of exhausted trained killers and one hyperactive child. ))

An Ancient Text from 2012 and the only FF.Net fic on this list, EMaAT is a classic for me. Lot's of Spy backstory, if memory serves. Quotes from this live rent free in my mind.

PracticalEspionage:

++Under the Lake by Her_AngelEyes

(( Engineer goes fishing. Hilarity ensues. ))

Don't let the description fool you. This is a non-con/mind break fic. If you like darkfic stuff, than this is for you~

[emotionalhottiee]

Broken

Jimmy Uso/Jonathan Fatu

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

just a quick oneshot until i get over this writers block. Hope you enjoy.

Heart Broken…

Doesn’t even begin to explain how i feel. How could he do this to us?

Thoughts of frustration and brokenness ran rampant through my mind as hot tears poured down my face. After all i had been through with Jonathan how could he throw away everything we had. My mind ran back to walking into his condo, opening his bedroom door to be met with an image of some ig thot, bent over while the love of my life was behind her. My heart shattered had into a million pieces.

Now the tears I’ve been crying out, for the past 30 minutes have blurred my vision. Thinking about that day against my will. But seeing him tonight made the memory pop up. Even though i knew there was a slight chance he would be at our friends birthday party. Actual seeing him, just felt like another knife being jammed right into my heart.

“Kenzi, are you alright in there?” “You’ve been in this bathroom a long time” my friend Kiara screamed through the door.

I hadn’t even realized i had been in here that long, but i just couldn’t stop crying. Watching Jon strut up in this party with some new girl on his arm. As if the last year and a half meant so little to him, he could move on within days. LITERALLY 5 days ago i caught him in bed with another woman.

And now it’s saturday, and he bought a whole other woman with him. Damn, How many others were there? I thought to myself as i wiped the tears from my bloodshot red eyes. Trying to cover up the fact that i been in the bathroom of a mutal friend of ours,sobbing over this man. What did i ever do to make him be so cold & callous towards me?

I have to pull myself together! I tried to tell myself encouragingly, i am not going to let him see me, so vulnerable. For what? He doesn’t seem to care in the least bit. Too busy fake laughing at the girl with her ass hanging out of her shorts.

He’s knows her ass ain’t that funny.

As i finish up wiping my face, one last time. Before i could even get myself all the way out of the bathroom Kiara yanked my ass into a tight hug. She knew i needed this that’s why she my friend.

“Girl don’t let him make you sad. Fuck him, you deserve so much better.” She calmly stated to me rocking us back & forth. This is exactly what will make my ass start crying again. But i am so thankful for my friend, trying to keep me from being sad.

Against Kiara’s advice i decided to stay at this party. This was one of Jon & I’s mutal friend, I’m not gonna let him feel like he has won (Even though he totally has won).

I put on my bravest face to go back and chill, before our friends pull out a game of taboo. We had split up into two teams and of course i end up on a team with Jon & his whore of the week. It was almost as if God was punishing me for still wanting to be around him. But truth be told i was obsessed with him. I loved him more than the air i breathed.

And as much as i can possibly lie to myself, i know he loves me too.

*some time later*

The party winded down, Kiara & I were helping our friends clean up. Jon’s little girlfriend ended up leaving. I thought they would’ve rode together but i guess not. And I’m honestly kinda happy about that. He’s been staring at me all night. Now that he’s alone i know where this night will take us. Especially since i rode with Kiara.

Jon asked me if i needed a ride home, knowing damn well i don’t like driving at night. I tried to act like i had to go back with Kiara, she gave us a shrug letting us know she didn’t mind. She knew me too well. As much as she wanted me to stand up for myself, she knew where my heart was. And wanting to be there for me she wasn’t gonna fight me on it. I appreciated that. Giving her a hug goodnight she gave me eyes of pleading, but with a hint of be careful. I rubbed her arms up & down letting her know i’d be okay.

The ride back to Jon’s house was quiet at first nothing but low 90s R&B playing. But he eventually turned the music off. He grabbed my hand while holding the steering with his other and apologized for his actions within the last week. My eyes filled up to the brim before a tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t even respond. I just held onto his hand, he bought my hand up to his mouth still holding it kissing it ever so gently. This is the soft, caring Jon i feel in love with. For a quick second he looked at me our eyes staring into one another. Until he turned his eyes back to the road.

This is going to be a great night.

[aristocratic-otter]

Hi all! It's so lovely to see so many people motivated by the fresh feeling of a new year. Thank you for sharing your work with me, @artsyunderstudy, @nausikaaa, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @roomwithanopenfire,

@whatevertheweather, @bookish-bogwitch, @martsonmars, @bookishbroadwayandblind, and @prettygoododds.

One thing I learned from reading everyone's year-end retrospectives: if I want to be more involved, I need to stop being such a perfectionist! I could have been posting every week, but I'd be kicking myself over not having finished a piece of every single WIP...and so I wouldn't post. I'm gonna challenge myself to just post, even if I only wrote one thing the previous week. So that said, it was a vacation week for me, so along with posting my gift fic for @facewithoutheart, A Very Zombie Christmas, I did actually do work on a lot of my WIPs, and you can expect updates on at least two of them this week.

So, here we go. As always, I absolutely did not bother to count six sentences:

From my 2023 COTTA, Snow Fox:

It took some convincing to get Penny and Mitali out the window and up onto the roof. Well, more Mitali than Penny. Neither woman much liked the fact that their petticoats and whatever other underthings women wear would be clearly visible from underneath the whole time they were climbing. 

Penny accepted it as a necessity with a grumble and an embarrassed flush, but Mitali truly balked at the idea. Finally, Pen suggested that I lower a loop of rope rather than an end of rope, and the women could sit in the loop and be hauled up. That resolved the whole ridiculous issue, and we had both women out of the house and onto the roof in short order. 

From my COBB with @cutestkilla: The Rat and the River

I’ve always wanted to be part of one of Snow’s famous ‘lunch meetings’.  Penelope’s told me about them. Simon thinks better with food, so all  information is shared and ideas are circulated over meals in Simon’s team. I used to wish to be British myself so I could join his team and take part in these comfortable meetings of minds. I love food and I love talk, especially talk about disease. What could be more enticing than spending time over sandwiches with the famous Snow’s angels? 

Especially one particular angel. 

From Tiktok Dancer:

Penny, Shep, Agatha and I are all staring at him, jaws hanging loose in our surprise at his unexpected eloquence and passion. Baz just sips on his fruity cocktail and smiles back at us demurely.

I suddenly realize how little I know about this man I’ve fallen head over heels for. And not knowing makes me itch—I can’t stand it.

“What dream are you pursuing?”  I blurt. 

Baz looks at me steadily, and I can almost see him revising his first answer in his head.

From my Visitor Baz AU: 

Baz is dead.

Baz is dead. 

I can’t understand it. The idea that Baz, my terrible roommate, will never snark at me from his desk across the room from mine again…that he’ll never use up all the hot water with his endless showers or wear his uniform in such a way that makes it look designer while all the rest of us look boring. He’ll never suck down a rat in the catacombs or earn the highest score on a Magic Words exam. 

Baz is dead. 

From Saving Simon Snow (I’ve got to reread this one to get my mojo back on it, I think. But here’s six new shortish sentences):

In all our years of cohabitation, I’ve never seen Simon truly lose his temper with Bunce. With me, certainly. Hundreds of times. In the Catacombs, he was irritable and defiant. But now? The moment Bunce grabs hold of his arm, Simon goes off. 

 From CORB #1, Baby Mine with @argumentativeantitheticalg

His voice takes on that haughty, lecturing tone I used to hate so much. Or at least that I used to think that I hated. It made me want to slam him against the wall and get in his face. 

I think I maybe just wanted to get my face on his face. Why was I so fucking stupid?

I’m lost in rumination on my own failings when the rise in volume from the crib and the pointed clearing of Baz’s throat both bring me back.

From CORB #2: The Stoves Come On At Night, with @ebbpettier

I wake up.

For several seconds, I blink groggily into the early morning light. I try to catch at the wisps of the dream I was having, but they’re fading. 

I can’t have been asleep for more than a couple of hours. Like I’d planned, I’d slept a few hours last night and then got up at three a.m. Three hours later, after I’d finished a sketchy patrol, I headed back to bed as the first rays of the sun were just breaking over the horizon. 

It can’t be more than 8 am now. What on earth woke me up? Even if I can’t really remember it, I’d been having such a pleasant dream…

Suddenly, I realize that the annoying buzzing sound I hear is an alarm–the fire alarm!

Tags and howdies to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @fatalfangirl,

@melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist,  @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean,

@raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz,

@krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost, @mooncello,

@shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart,  @theearlgreymage, @iamamythologicalcreature, @ileadacharmedlife,

@thehoneyedhufflepuff, @facewithoutheart, @thewholelemon, @skeedelvee, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

@messofthejess, @best--dress, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii,  @hushed-chorus, 

@rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @cutestkilla, @letraspal, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe,

@wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @emeryhall, @larkral, @youarenevertooold,

@j-nipper-95, @ebbpettier, and @argumentativeantitheticalg

[giggly-squiggily]

Okay you can disregard the last adk I sent for Gojo and Geto (my bad 😅)

Instead, what about the trio (Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara) getting back at Gojo for always tickling them and they succeeded

Can't wait to see what you do 💖🫶🏾

EEEE This is a bit older but YES! Gladys you always have the best prompts! I love the idea of the trio getting Gojo- my heart is so happy writing this sakjerajkejkrajkerjk I've gotcha covered! :D

“Okay guys- time to retract and regroup!” Yuji stood tall before his group, puffing his chest to exert powerful energy. Did he truly know exactly what he was saying? Not really- but he watched enough business dramas to get the idea. “Our last attempt to get Gojo-sensei was a bust. How are we gonna recover from it?”

“You mean your last attempt. I told you it wouldn’t work.” Megumi rolled his eyes, arms stretched as Nobara painted his fingernails. Their impromptu movie night turned into a salon day for the boys when her new nail polish set came in the mail. “You really should give up.”

“Never!” Yuji struck a pose, eyes ablaze. “Not after that last crushing defeat! I was so close! I could practically taste his laughter!”

“Gross- how do you even taste laughter?” Nobara nodded at her work, pride in her growing smile. “Come here, Itadori. It’s your turn.”

“Ooo, make me pretty!” Yuji slid over and stuck his hands out, laughing as she wrinkled her nose at the state of his cuticles. “Seriously though- I think it’s possible! If we work as a team-”

“Pass.” Megumi and Nobara spoke in sync.

“Come on, you two!” He pleaded, eyes puppy-like. “Think about it! Gooms- how many times has Gojo Sensei tickled you since taking you in all those years ago?”

“All the time. Relentlessly.”

“Right! Isn’t it time for payback?” He turned to Nobara next. “'Bara- don’t you love chaos? Don’t you ever wonder what Gojo-sensei looks like when tickled?”

“Hmm..that is tempting.” She mused, finishing up her work on Yuji’s fingers. “Screw it- I’m in!”

“Seriously?” Megumi asked while Yuji whooped.

“Yeah! I’ve made the impossible happen before.” She grinned, confidence radiating off her like waves. “I can do it again!”

“He’ll kill us.”

“Us?” 

“...Fine, I’m in.” Megumi resigned, earning a round of cheers. He hid his smile in his soda can. “So how exactly are we doing this?”

“I have a plan.” Yuji gestured them over. “But it’s pretty bold.”

~~~

Gojo wasn’t a simple man. He had a knack for catching onto mischief- especially when it came to his three students.

“Hey, Gojo?” Megumi was standing before him, cheeks red and hands shaking as they pressed further into his pockets. “Can I…get a hug?”

That didn’t mean his brain always won over his heart.

Gojo gaped, brows to his hairline and jaw dropped. He took off his glasses, cleaning them on his sleeve and putting them back on to make sure his eyes were working. “Megumi? Did-did you just ask me for a hug?”

The younger boy seemed to shrink on himself, looking an adorable combination of both frustrated and mortified. “Yes..?”

“Oh…Oh how I longed for this day.” Gojo cried crocodile tears as he wiped at his cheeks, sniffing a few times. “The day you see me as your dad! The day you let me love you like the son I’ve always wanted!”

“I never said that. If anything, you’re more of a weird uncle.” Megumi frowned harder, glaring at the obnoxiously delighted man. “Nevermind, I take it back. Keep your hug.”

“Wait, Goomy!” Gojo appeared before him, arms out and eyes twinking. “You can’t just go up to someone offering a hug and not follow through!”

“I didn’t offer-”

“Come here.” He did a little hop forward, brows bouncing as he gestured Megumi into his embrace. “Where my hug at?”

“Don’t say that- now you really sound like a weird uncle.” Megumi crossed the distance, wrapping his arms around Gojo and feeling the other man startle. “There.”

After a moment, Gojo’s arms down to embrace him, his cheek against Megumi’s crown and his squeeze a level of comfort the younger man wasn’t expecting. He felt bad for what was to come. “Sorry, Gojo.”

“I know. I forgive you.” Gojo didn’t sound mad, nor did he release his embrace. He simply held on as Nobara and Yuji charged them. “It was worth the hug though.”

Seconds later, they hit the ground hard.

~~~

“Gehehahhahahah! Yohoohu threehehehe! Cohoohhome on, spahahhare your tehahahhcher!” Gojo cried out, three sets of hands going to work to break him down. To his amusment- it seemed they picked up on his own tickle techniques. “I’ll gihihiihive yohhohohu ehahhehextra crehheehdit!”

“For what? You don’t even assign homework!” Yuji pointed out, pinning both of Gojo’s wrists above his head while his companions went to work. “Wait- don’t actually assign homework now, Gojo-sensei!”

“You blockhead! Now he’s definitely gonna give us homework!” Nobara gave him a look from her spot by his legs, one hand holding down Gojo’s kicking leg while the other skittered along the back of his knee. “Keep tickling him until he takes it back!”

“Yeah!”

“Whahahait, wahahahit-ahahahahhahah!” Gojo arched with a cackle, not bothering with resisting. Even if he wanted to, he doubt he could with Megumi poking along the back of his ribs. He just had to go for the worst spots. “I hahahhahte hohohohmewohohohork! Whohohoh the hehehehell asiiihihihsgn’s hihihihis stuhuhudent’s hhoiohohmework?”

“Way to set an example as a teacher.” Megumi tsked him, stretching his hands further to really get his lower back set. The action alone was enough to have him dying. “So shameful.”

“Dohohohn’t you stahhahart on mehehee-ehehheheheehehehhe, nhoohoho cohohome ohohohon!” Gojo weakly tugged on his arms when Yuji dared to tickle an armpit. “Fihihihihne, fhihihihihne, no hohohohmewhohohoohrk! Nohohohoo hhoohohohmewohohohork!”

“Yay!” Nobara and Yuji cheered, briefly stopping their ticklish antics to highfive overhead. “Wait- why were we talking about homework again?” Yuji suddenly asked, making all three pause.

Unfortunately for them, that was the moment Gojo chose to counter.

“No homework, but here comes your extra lessons!” He moved like lightning, gathering all three of them up in seconds before bringing them to the ground, tickling like crazy. Squeals and shrieks and swears filled the area as he rapidly clawed at ribs and bellies and necks. “This will teach you to tickle your dear ol’ teacher!”

“Aheahhaha! Soohoho yohohohou’re finahahahahlly admihihihiting your ohohohld?” Yuji cried out, shrieking when Gojo doubled his efforts. “I tahhahake it bahahahck, I tahhahke it bnahahahck!”

“Ehehehehhhehehe! Thihihis wahahsn’t eehehehven my ihihiheheheha!” Nobara cried out with a high pitched cackle, scrunching up as her neck was pinched at. “It wahhahhs Yuhuhuhuhuhji’s!”

“Ihihihit was ahhahahall hihihihim! Gehehhet Ihihihihitahahhadori!” Megumi cried, pushing at the hand against his stomach. “Stahhahahap!”

“Call me old and then demand me to stop? You three are rather cheeky!” Gojo chided with mock disappointment, unable to fight off his smile. “Tell me I’m a great teacher and I’ll do it. Come on- sing me your praises.”

“Yohohohu’re grhehahahahaht! Yoohohohu’re ghreahhahahhahhat!” The three of them chorused in various tones of mirth, making Gojo laugh with them. After getting one last good tickle, he finally relented.

“Okay- lesson’s over.” He stood back with hands on his hips, laughing at the sight of his students piling up on one another in giggles. “You three are adorable..say, why are you all wearing nail polish?” He blinked at their sparkly fingers, only just now registering the look. 

Megumi seemed to flush redder as he struggled to hide his hands. Nobara meanwhile sat up and gleefully stuck out her fingers to show off her work. “Do you love them? They’re holo!”

 “Wow, would you look at that? I wish I knew you were doing manicures; I’d have you do mine.”

“I can do yours!” Nobara offered, Yuji joining in gleefully at the idea.

“Yeah! Gojo-sensei, match with us! Nobara even did Goom’s toes!”

“Don’t tell him that- get off me!” Megumi fumed, struggling to shove his friend off who dived for his feet. Gojo cackled, clapping his hands as he took in the sight of his beloved students.

“Sounds good. Let me know when your next nail appointment opens up. I’ll gladly join in.”

~~~

Nanami blinked, brow furrowed. He didn’t know what it was about Gojo, but the longer he looked, the more he felt something was…different.

When the blonde caught his eye, he flashed his fingers, making the rainbow against his fingernails dance. “My students.”

“That’s nice.” Nanami nodded, turning back to look out at the horizon.

A brief pause. “Wanna see my toenails?”

“Keep your shoes on, Gojo.”

Thanks for reading!

[dreadnoughtus101]

Pro

Tsukishima Kei

Where the reader is a pro volleyball player and Ukai brought in her team to help teach Karasuno new techniques

______________________________________________________________

Pro!Reader

Tall!Reader

This one is kind of rushed, but I don't mind making a part 2? Left it pretty open ended for everyone to imagine what they want.

"Okay everybody, please behave yourselves." Daichi pleaded with the team.

It was last week that coach Ukai had told them he was bringing in the Yokohama team, a professional group of female volleyball players, in to help with Karasunos technique.

Now, today was the day, and the captain only hoped they wouldn't make a fool of themselves.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You walked into the gym, right behind your teammates. You felt more nervous than usual, yet tried to keep it calm. It was last week that your coach had sat you guys down and told you about Karasuno, a team full of boys that hoped to go pro. It wasn't you who agreed to this, if anything it seemed like you were the only one against it. Why should we travel so far to help them? What difference does our help make compared to any other?

You saw the group of boys sitting in a group near a bench, eagerly waiting for you all. One boy in particular, a short one with orange hair, immediately sprung up and ran to greet you guys.

"Guys! It's them! It's Yokohama! Have you guys seen their plays!?" He was practically jumping, beaming with excitement. You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the pure excitement he displayed at just seeing your team. Karasuno stood to greet you guys, the captains talking. They both agreed that they would pair you guys up by numbers. They went down the line, introducing everyone to their new respective counterpart.

"Eleven, y/n, you'll be working with Tsukishima."

They played a practice match for you guys to observe their play styles. You watched Tsukishima on the court, his effortless blocks. You noted some things you could show him, but you also noted that he was one of the better players you had seen.

You noticed some similarities between you two, most particularly how you both were the tallest on your teams.

"So," He was the first one to speak up as you guys walked to a corner of the gym to practice alone, "What position do you play..?" He mumbled. You let out a small laugh, it was refreshing to be asked something like that. Most people already knew simple things like that about you and immediately jumped into asking the private questions. It was one of the many cons about going pro. "Middle blocker." You replied flatly. He nodded, "Me too." You didn't realize it, but he felt a burn on his cheeks. To him, this was an obvious and stupid question to ask. You looked up at him and realized the height difference. You were used to being too tall for most boys, even though you only stood at 5'11. To some, this was too tall, but somehow he was actually taller than you.

You two had spent the next few hours practicing together, giving him tips on how to get better and small changes he could make. You noticed yourself staring at him a bit more than you probably should have. Admiring the way his hair perfectly framed his face, the way his glasses highlighted his golden brown eyes, his slender fingers. "Are you okay?" You heard him ask.

You snapped out of it, realizing you had been staring. Quietly apologizing, you tried to change the subject. "Have you thought about going pro?" He let out a scoff, as if it was a dumb question. "I wouldn't stick around for this long if I hadn't." You felt the same burning in your face that he had earlier, and just nodded, almost feeling guilty for asking such a dumb question. He noticed this before adding, "Why did you decide to?"

It was a good question, one you hated having to answer. "I'm not.. entirely sure." You paused mid sentence, "My parents were, so it was just kind of expected for me. It's not that I hate it, but sometimes I think of doing other stuff when I get older." He nodded along. You hated being a pro at so young. It drew so much attention towards you and it was hard to keep simple aspects of your life private. You never had many friends outside of your team, couldn't go to public school, and everywhere you went there were cameras flashing in your face. You enjoyed it, but the fame was tiring.

You noticed that this time, he was the one looking at you, studying your features.

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

When your team had left, the coaches insisted you all kept in contact with each other. You wouldn't have minded it so much if it weren't for the fact that you just could not stop thinking about him.

It was a few weeks after, you sat outside after practice. Your team mate and best friend, f/n, sat next to you. "Have you talked to that Tsukishima boy yet?" She asked, a sly grin on her face. "No, why?" You questioned. There wasn't much to talk about, but you told him you could text him if he needed any more help. "I saw the way you two were staring at each other, I mean come on, y/n, its a perfect match." You scoffed at her and rolled your eyes. "Why, 'cause we're both tall?" She playfully nudged your shoulder "AND," she added, "You both play the same position! Plus, he's cute."

Your face blushed, you knew she was just teasing you but what was the harm in getting closer to him? She wasn't wrong, he really was cute.

"I don't think I should be getting into relationships though, it would never be private." You looked at her, a tinge of sadness in your eyes at the thought of it. You were never able to have a boyfriend and while you never really wanted one, you started to toy with the idea a little bit after seeing him.

F/n only rolled her eyes, "I think you're dramatic."

Maybe you were, maybe not. What was worth the risk?

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

You heard the familiar DING from your phone, a new text from someone.

"It's Tsukishima, thanks for the help last month."

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw his name, realizing he was the one texting you.

"Of course, any time."

It felt embarrassing in a way, wondering if you should've added more or less, looking for a way to keep the conversation going. You didn't have to though, it was like he read your mind.

"Would you wanna go to a cafe with me this weekend?"

Were you imagining things? It wasn't even a minute later that he texted again.

"Sorry, forget it. Nevermind."

Why was he backing down now?

"No wait, I'd love to."

· · ────────────────── ·𖥸· ────────────────── · ·

And so, the following Monday after that weekend, neither of you said a word to anyone, it was the news paper that did the talking for you both.

"Y/N L/N SEEN WITH BOY AT CAFE THIS SATURDAY MORNING."

Included with a picture and all.