#i promise i know how to interact like a person I SWEAR

[ledesaid]

Billy has a special trunk 💼 #2

Or Billy Batson can travel between trunks and meet two Jasons.

◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉◉

Bambi went out every morning and left Billy watching television. Billy took advantage of that moment to travel through the trunk. It's not that he was forbidden to sneak away, but he preferred not to worry her and waited until she went out to work.

On the other hand, the one he really wanted to scare was Jason, who considered Billy a ghost.

Jason: Do you have unfinished business on Earth?

Billy: Yes, a few. Haven't you seen letters or a crystal ball when you opened this trunk?

Jason: No, kid, and I know for a fact that this trunk hasn't been opened in fifteen years.

Billy: Well, I had to try.

Jason: Speaking of cards, do you want to play? I have a deck.

Billy: Sure, I have nothing better to do... Are you grounded or something?

Jason: Is it obvious?

Billy: I don't think you voluntarily spend your afternoons next to a trunk waiting for it to appear.

Jason: I like you too, ghost boy.

Billy: Jason, it's been days, are you going to keep calling me kid or ghost?

Jason: Sorry, I was told it's impolite to ask a ghost for their name.

Billy: I'm Billy and it's not a problem, but I'll let you know if you ask something too personal.

Jason: Can you eat?

Billy: Definitely...

Billy evaluated his situation as "Billy, the friendly little ghost". Do ghosts eat? He wasn't so sure, but... Billy did eat. So that is the absolute truth.

Billy: We can try if you bring something.

Jason: Great, I'll ask Alfred for a snack.

Billy: I'll shuffle, my friend Freddy taught me a trick.

Jason won, he had more experience, but Billy was happy. It had been a while since he interacted so freely with another kid who didn't want to hit him or ignore him. At least not since Fawcett's kidnapper appeared.

Jason is a very kind boy, apparently very rich, but very kind and talkative. He listens to how he was adopted by a big shot when he tried to steal the tires of his favorite car. Years have passed since then, but they get along quite well and although he is grounded, he knows his father appreciates him.

Billy changes his expression while he wonders how much longer he can keep invading Bambi's space. He couldn't stay forever... She has plans in another city as soon as she passes her exam.

He is not going to think about the small or minimal possibility of believing that she could adopt him. She was quite young and that was impossible... Besides, she was like an older sister.

Having someone permanent like Jason has not been that simple.

Jason: Come on Billy, I grew up in an alley. I'm a professional, obviously it's hard to beat me... Are you worried about something?

It seems his expression said too much.

Billy: Jason, what if I wasn't a ghost?... Would that change anything between us?

Jason: You could stay in this room as long as you want, I mean, you already do, but if you want to keep something here, I promise not to interfere and I would introduce you to Alfred... he's like a grandfather to me.

Billy: So, I'm a ghost.

Jason: Or I could simply bring more snacks... I'd give you one of my old jerseys and... maybe I'd ask you to play with me on the basketball court we have, if you want.

Billy: Well, now I'm less of a ghost.

A normal day

A normal day, not considering that the heating in the apartment was broken, Billy asks the trunk to take him to Jason to escape the cold... He doesn't expect this harmless chat in the air to lead him to a very elegant dark office with a lit fireplace. Nor that someone would stick him to the ceiling like a fly.

...: "Who dares to intrude into the home of Jason Blood?"

Billy: This looks bad, Mr. Blood... But I swear I shouldn't be here, I planned to go to a friend's house...

Jason B.: Your excuse is hardly believable, mischievous little wizard.

Billy: I swear, his name is also Jason... Excuse me, did you say wizard?

Billy doesn't miss how the red-haired man takes a crystal ball from the mantelpiece. Suspiciously like his own.

Jason B.: Just like with Merlin, I see your magical signature, but I must ensure your intrusion doesn't leave negative effects.

Billy: Magical signature?

Jason B.: Hoping not to fall into a deception. Are you really a child as your physical form shows?

Billy: Yes, I am!

To his relief, he is returned to the floor of the study. The soft carpet reminds him a bit of Jason's mansion.

Jason B: Little wizard, you are very lucky I can tell when someone is lying.

Billy: Can I ask you a question, Mr. Blood?

Jason B.: Be quick, kid.

Billy: Is that object in your hands yours? I have lost my belongings and I am looking for them with the help of a... magical trunk.

Jason B.: Coincidentally, it is not. It appeared in that trunk a few days ago and your strange explanation confirms your possible right over this object. However...

Billy: Please, a dear friend gave it to me and I have taken care of it for several years until the trunk played a bad trick on me.

Jason B.: I'm not familiar with the term bad trick, but I can accept to give it to you in exchange for a favor.

Billy shudders, alarms of a bad idea ringing loudly in his head. He's a stranger, with powers...

Billy: You're a stranger.

Jason B.: And you're a trespasser. I have a problem with loose fairies in my closet, due to my... mystical nature, I can't touch them or they will die, but I trust that your magical signature will make it possible for you to see them and free them for me.

Billy: I didn't say I would do it.

Jason B.: If you want the sphere, I expect you can achieve it. I'll be back in half an hour, I hope you succeed.

Blood doesn't give Billy time to object more before leaving the room, taking the sphere with him.

Billy scolds himself while trying to do what he was asked. It takes longer than expected, but he manages to throw three fairies out of the redhead's window.

Jason B.: I thank you for the help, by the way, in respect for my old friend I must warn you to be careful, your magical ability could make you a target for evil sorcerers. I'm not aware of this, but if you like, I know a wizard named Zatara who could give you some instruction if you use your words wisely.

Billy: Thanks... I guess.

Blood keeps his promise and Billy gets into the trunk. He appears in the mansion and, to his relief, carries the crystal sphere with him.

Jason: Billy, why are you covered in glitter?

Billy: Some fairies spat their magical glitter on me, maybe if I jump out the window I can fly...

Jason: Fuck, you meet Tinkerbell?

-------

Part 1 |

[rabbithaver]

attempting to strike conversation by way of cheese (this is such a weird ask to get im sorry im just awkward and you are cool i like you okay ill drop the image and leave now)

oh my god people think im cool...

this is incredibly sweet and also probably the funniest way you could have told me this. also it worked because i do love me some cheese !! a fine square cheddar..... yeas....t htat's the good stuff

[arts-i-enjoy]

Something I've noticed from subbing to just a couple of very small patreons (like fewer than 50 members) is how SHY people are about talking to the creator that they are paying! What's up with that? I wonder if it's because most of these patrons come via tumblr, where there is the culture of talking in the tags/reblogs and comments being your "outdoor voice"/basically it being RUDE to talk to people.

I think that's fucked up, especially in the context of artists (just to be clear every time I say artists that is inclusive of writers). Like these are people that are making a thing and showing it to you, they don't just want silent nods of approval by way of reblogs/likes. They want FEEDBACK. They want CONNECTION. I think a fundamental part of creating and sharing art is the goal of connection. And I don't think people realize how truly disheartening it is to post something and then get completely silent likes/reblogs.

For the love of God they are TALKING TO YOU. TALK BACK!!!!

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑

- xavier x reader

a new friendly colleague has joined your team, but your boyfriend is convinced he is up to no good... and that's why xavier is determined to show it that you are his

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, fluff explicit smut: slightly rough sex, fingering, doggy style, based on xavier's card misty silhouette

note: skxmskcjsf bye don't look at me. this fanart and xavier's card messed me up :') this banner is so unhealthy for me i swear </3

Xavier knew he wasn’t the most patient person.

But even patience, he thought, has limits. And he had been patient and reasonable for a week, to be precise.

It all started ever since that damned new recruit entered his team. He didn't know why, but he kept coming to you for everything—directions, advice, even trivial nonsense like lunch recommendations. It was almost as if on purpose.

This afternoon was no different. Xavier had been looking forward to having lunch with you—just the two of you. You’d promised him, after all.

And yet—

“There was this one time I got trapped inside the N109 Zone—”

“N109 Zone!?”

“Yes!”

“Really?! What did you do then?”

“Hmm, so at first, I was in total panic, but then—”

For the past 15 minutes, your lunch break had been taken over by recounting your tales of valor as a hunter to the new recruit. Nearby, Xavier sat in brooding silence, scathingly sparing him a glance. The slight frown on his face said it all—blatant disinterest and a touch of irritation.

And you too... why are you engaging him so enthusiastically?

Then again, given his age, Xavier knew he had to be mature about this. He tried, really. If it had been someone like Jeremiah, he might have let it slide.

But there was just something about this new recruit—Sean, was it?—that rubbed him the wrong way.

“Whoa, you're so cool, Miss Y/N!” Sean exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “Not only are you pretty and talented, but you're also incredibly skilled! What do you even lack, eh?”

“Really, it's not that much,” you giggled, brushing him off. The way you got sheepish only made Xavier’s annoyance flare even further.

“Let me guess— a boyfriend!”

So that’s what it was. Now Xavier understood what about Sean that set him off. The entire time you’d been talking, he had been giving you those googly eyes.

He didn't like it one bit. He looked ridiculous while doing it.

Despite being silent as a mouse all the way, before he could stop himself, he blurted, “She has a boyfriend already.”

You turned to him in surprise, clearly not expecting him to announce it so bluntly.

“Oh...? Xavier, you know who her boyfriend is...?” Sean turned to him with curiosity.

He noticed it. How his expression fell ever so slightly upon he told him that you were already taken. Xavier huffed and stuffed his mouth with his ramen.

“Yeah. Her boyfriend lives next door.”

Technically, he lived upstairs, but the detail didn’t matter. He just needed to make his point known.

And somehow, for the rest of the day, the new recruit finally seemed to develop some sense—at least enough to stop hovering around you so frequently. Particularly when Xavier was nearby.

“Xavier... why did you tell him that?”

You fell into step beside your quiet boyfriend as the two of you headed home that evening, tilting your head as you replayed the events of the afternoon.

Xavier gave you a brief glance before looking straight ahead again, ignoring your question.

You observed him. There it was again—that gray cloud hovering over him. It always seemed to appear when he was in a bad mood.

Puckering your lips, you pressed further. “We haven’t even told anybody else about our relationship... And what you did there—you’re literally telling him we’re dating.”

“So what?” he shot back, his tone sharper than usual. “Are you afraid people might find out we are? Or—”

Xavier abruptly stopped in his tracks, turning to face you. His usually vibrant blue eyes darkened, piercing into yours with a sharp gleam. “Are you afraid he will find out?”

There was something in his gaze that held you captive—that made your silly heart skip a beat.

“N-no...” you looked away, swallowing the heat that were about to take over your face. Why does Xavier look kind of... hot like that...?

Your cheeks warmed regardless, but you had to appease him. “Like I told you before, I just thought it’d be easier if this stays our little secret. It’s less of a bother if they don’t know…”

Reaching for his hand, you gave it a reassuring squeeze and flashed him a soft smile. “Besides, why would I be afraid if he knows? My boyfriend is cool, handsome, and the best hunter there is.”

You watched as Xavier's expression softened, the tension melting away. A faint blush crept up his cheeks too, and the gray cloud that had loomed over him finally disappeared. He squeezed your hand in return, looking away as if to hide the way he got bashful.

Adorable. For all his brooding, your boyfriend was surprisingly easy to soothe.

For the rest of the walk back to your apartment, you two remained hand-in-hand, the tension of the afternoon slipping away with each step.

. . .

You were staying over at Xavier's place tonight. After a relaxing bath and a hearty dinner, the two of you found yourselves standing side by side in the kitchen, doing the dishes together.

It was mundane things like this that Xavier considered his favorite routine to do with you. Just as you handed him the last plate to dry, you spoke up, your voice breaking the quiet hum of contentment—

“Xavier, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“I was just thinking... Sean seems nice and friendly, but from what I’ve seen, you seem kind of... unwelcoming— almost hostile even towards him.”

At your words, a frown etched itself onto Xavier’s forehead as he turned to face you fully. You seemed so oblivious, standing there with a look of genuine curiosity.

“Do you really not know?” he questioned you incredulously.

You blinked. “Know what?”

Damn it. Xavier sighed and put down the dish he was holding, but the words faltered on his tongue as a sour expression crossed his face. “No matter,” he muttered under his breath.

He took a deliberate step closer, his movements slow and heavy, and you instinctively backed away—

“So,” he said, his voice low, his blue eyes boring into yours as he took one hot step forward after another, “while Sean is nice and friendly, I’m hostile and unwelcoming, huh?”

—only to find yourself pressed against the window, unable to retreat further.

He stood in front of you now, his arms caging you in, creating a barrier that sealed off any chance of escape.

Uh-oh. Apparently, you had flipped that switch—

The air between you grew thick, and you could feel your pulse quicken under the weight of his gaze. “That’s not what I'm getting at—”

“He’s been eyeing you all day, following you around... getting lunches with you—”

In that moment, your phone erupted to life, its ringtone cutting through the tension. It sat on the small table near the windowsill, and Xavier gave it a quick glance, his expression darkening upon seeing Sean's name flash on the screen.

“Oh?” His voice dropped lower, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes. “He’s now calling you at nights too?”

“No!” you quickly refuted, your words tumbling out almost too fast. “Xavier, don’t get the wrong idea—”

He tilted your jaw to face him, holding your spooked gaze. “Then what idea am I supposed to be getting when he’s so blatantly pursuing you and you don't even do anything about it?”

The plot twist is... you know. Of course you knew it when a guy was trying to make a move on you, you just pretended not to notice it because it was easier that way. You didn’t know which devil had planted this rotten idea in your head that made you want to push Xavier to the edge, just to see how he'd react when he held nothing back—

The call tonight was a coincidence though, but definitely fueled your lover's ire even more. It was a dangerous game, but now that you’d crossed this line, you couldn't go back any longer.

Your lips curled into a bewitching smile then, and your boyfriend was almost mystified. "So, what will you do to me?"

Xavier looked at you with slightly widened eyes, not expecting your boldness at all. But then he grimaced, as at the same time, the irritation in his veins suddenly flared up—

With a swift, fluid motion, he turned you that you faced the window, his right arm wrapping around your waist from behind as he pressed his body against yours—his hardness pressing, almost poking you.

“You’re so clueless,” he growled into your ear before going after your neck, sucking hard and fast. His hips began to grind against you, pressing harder with each movement. “Too damn clueless...!”

His fingers that gripped your belly moved then, slipping inside your frisky nightgown to finger you— and you lost all your wits in that instant. “Ah-h—!”

Two of his fingers pumped in and out of you, dragging them almost rashly, and it took everything in you to stay upright. "X-Xavier!"

“Mmph,” he breathed against the skin of your neck, his other arm pressing you against him tighter, simultaneously squeezing your breasts. "You asked for it."

Your thighs were trembling in no time, and your breaths came in shaky moans. Your boyfriend was not exactly gentle, but this is probably the first time in a while that he was being rough without reservations. While you wanted to protest, it felt too good—

He turned your face towards him then, crashing his lips on yours.

It almost felt like you were punished, but you couldn't do anything about it. The tension in your lower belly was steadily building, ready to snap at any moment, and the way his fingers relentlessly hitting that one unforgivable spot was starting to made you dizzy.

"Ah—ngh!" You finally shuddered when you reached your climax. It was freeing when you felt yourself burst on his fingers, the release smearing your thighs.

And right then your knees buckled—

But Xavier immediately got a secure hold over you, lifting your body effortlessly into his arms, one hand supporting your knees, the other cradling your back. Through your teary eyes, you met his gaze once more. His expression was unreadable, a dark haze of disapproval clouding his features.

“I’m not done yet.”

He brought you over to his bed, gently lying you down despite the roughness of his voice. He parted your legs, getting himself between them—

Ring! Ring!

The shrill sound of your phone pierced the coolness of the room, and you almost jolted.

But your lover... the sound was like a spell to him, only intensifying his irritation as his features twisted with frustration, and you knew that he was about to take it on you.

As if changing his mind, Xavier suddenly flipped you over that you laid on your stomach and straddled you from behind. He quickly turned your head to face him and claimed your lips in a deep, urgent kiss.

“Mm, hmmp—!” The ringtone of your phone blared in the background, a jarring sound that wasn't pleasant at the slightest. It wasn’t until it finally stopped that he pulled away from the kiss.

You were gasping for breath, your chest heaving, and a stray tear slipped from your eyes. Xavier stared at you, and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

Flushed, sweaty, tearful... you looked so enchanting in his eyes in that moment. He almost felt bad that he had manhandled you this roughly.

Almost.

His hands gripped your waist, and he paused, his gaze locked with yours, silently seeking your approval— or more like, commanding you to give it to him.

In response, you arched your back— a silent affirmation, bracing yourself.

From then on, he was no longer holding back. He tugged your panties down and let his throbbing member out of his pants. It was laughable how insatiable he was— both of you were still clothed, save for his unbuttoned shirt, but he was already this aroused and hard.

He nudged forward, his tip breaching your entrance. The feeling of that familiar stretch left you keeling, babbles and whimpers falling from your lips as he slowly eased into you.

It was hard to take him in fully, and you were a mess of breathy gasps the moment you did. But you were in for the main ride when he started ramming into you, pushing in and out of you in a merciless pace.

"Ah... Xavier!" you panted between thrusts, feeling how it started to be too much for you the more he went on. "Ahh, hrah!"

Behind you, Xavier groaned in reply, his lips sucking your shoulder as his hips quickened, striving to bring you to the peak faster. One of his large hands dug into the skin of your stomach, urging your back to arch more, while the other clasped yours, fingers entwined in the sheets.

He watched intently as your face twisted and contorted in ecstasy, a surge of pride swelling within him, greater than he thought possible.

It was mind-blowing, slightly forceful, and your senses were all heightened. The harsh pace drew cries from your lips, your tears falling to the sheets, yet the pleasure also catapulted you into the stars—

The sinful delight of having him so deep within you.

The sinful rapture of being thrusted over and over.

“Ahhh!” And then, all at once, it was as if heaven and hell collided in a cataclysmic burst. Everything inside you shattered as you cried out—a scream morphing into a high-pitched gasp—as the two of you reached the climax together. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your walls clasped around him impossibly tight as Xavier filled you with everything that he had in one shot.

You collapsed against the sheets like a ragdoll, the pressure finally easing from your sore spine.

“Hello? Yes, it’s Xavier...”

The morning after. You stirred awake, your mind still foggy with sleep, as muffled voices filtered in from outside the bedroom.

“I have to take an urgent leave today...”

You were still utterly drained, your body heavy and unwilling to move. Instinctively, your hand reached out to your side, searching for your lover, but the spot was empty.

“Yes. Y/N too. She isn’t well today... We will be back tomorrow...”

You let out a soft, tired whine, your voice plaintive, as you lay sprawled across the bed, wishing for his warmth to return. Honestly, everything was still sore, and you were this close to tears again.

The door then opened with a creak not long after, and you let out a whimper, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Are you awake...?” Xavier's voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he stepped closer to the bed.

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry. He was already dressed, his crisp appearance in stark contrast to your disheveled state. In his hand, he held a small plastic bag.

“What’s that...?” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as you struggled to prop yourself up, curiosity flickering through your tired gaze.

“Don’t get up too quickly,” Xavier murmured, his hands steady as he caught you mid-movement. He guided you back down and tucked the blankets snugly around you, his touch gentle yet firm. “Just rest for now.”

A low hum of contentment escaped you as you leaned into his touch. Your bleary eyes focused solely on him, and despite himself, Xavier found a smile tugging at his lips.

“I just went to the drugstore downstairs to get you some painkillers,” he explained, lifting the small plastic bag slightly. “Take them after you’ve had some breakfast later.”

He then fixed you a bashful grimace, looking down. “Sorry for... uh, last night... I think I’ve pushed you too far.”

His fingers reached out, brushing gently against your cheek. The same fingers that had driven you to the brink of madness the night before now so tender against your skin. “You were crying,” he murmured, guilt lacing his voice. “I feel bad.”

“Mm-hm, so that’s what happens when you don’t hold back at all,” you snickered softly, the corners of your mouth curving despite the lingering ache in your body.

Xavier shifted his gaze away, his confidence faltering. “Will you... hate me for it?”

It was hard to contain your smile from breaking out into a grin. Your boyfriend, a ferocious wolf in a sheep’s clothing, had no need for this shy charade when he had railed you that hard last night.

“No, but you’re going to have to make it up to me. I can’t even walk now.”

Xavier blinked before he patted your head. “Yeah, I’ll fulfill any of your wishes,” he sighed in relief, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. “So, what is it?”

You paused for a moment, then with a mischievous glint in your eye, you said, “Take me to the bathroom? I want to have a shower first.”

And, of course, he obliged. With a effortless motion, Xavier scooped you up into a princess carry, holding you close. His arms cradled you with care, and you rested against his chest, the warmth of his embrace offering a sense of security.

Just like that, you spent the rest of the day as lovers, sleeping in with careless abandon, unburdened by your duties.

Epilogue

Later in the afternoon, you were once again deep in a sleep as Xavier cuddled you close, when suddenly the doorbell of his apartment rang incessantly.

Frowning, Xavier carefully eased himself out of bed, making sure not to disturb your slumber. He moved quietly towards the door, and when he saw the intercom, his frown worsened.

Sean, the newbie, was at his doorstep. He had half a mind to ignore him, but after a beat, he decided to open the door.

“What do you want?” his voice sharp with annoyance.

“Oh, Xavier!” The guy was stunned for a moment as his eyes lingered on Xavier’s chiseled abs, exposed through the his unbuttoned shirt. “O-oh, so... I’ve been trying to ring the doorbell to Y/N's apartment to give her a fruit basket to wish her a fast recovery, but she’s not answering—” he hastily explained, gesturing toward the basket in his hand. “Can you reach her—?”

Xavier felt like popping a vein at how meddlesome this guy was. Was this guy an idiot? Didn’t he realize by now that he was your next-door boyfriend?

Nevermind. The hard way it is.

“She’s with me.”

“H-huh?”

He shot him a pointed look. “Don't think you’ll have a chance with her, newbie.”

And with that, he shut the door in his face.

[arhvste]

“this is killing me.” kuroo mumbled as he tossed his phone to his side. “just trust me bro,” his best friend-turned roommate bokuto grinned. “this works everytime for me i swear!”

kuroo sighed before grabbing phone again to refresh his instagram story views once more. several people had already viewed the post-gym mirror selfie he’d taken in attempts to garner attention from one particular follower of his; you. “maybe it’s too cringe…” he muttered while over analysing the photo that had already gained a couple of likes within the twenty minutes it had already been up for. “nah.” bokuto reassured him and pat his friend on the shoulder. “you look sexy.” kuroo stared back at the two-toned haired boy. “… thanks bro.”

this isn’t something kuroo would typically post but times were tough and he was desperate. he’d seen you around campus but luck was not on his side when it came to scheduling and the two of you barely had class time together. yet the little class time you did share, kuroo hung onto it tightly and would let scenes of these weekly one hour classes replay in his head more often than he’d like to admit.

“i feel like a modern jay gatsby,” the ex volleyball captain huffed. “my selfie is the equivalent of the wild parties he’d throw in hopes to get daisy’s attention except i don’t want to post every night, i’ve already made myself cringe with this one post.” bokuto stared back at his friend blankly. “yeah… whatever that means.” kuroo frowned back “it’s a classic, you should know what i mean!”

how much longer was he going to have to wait? bokuto had promised him quick results with this method and so far he’d felt deceived and lied to. if talking to you when he got the chance wasn’t enough to get a conversation going outside the classroom, then social media seemed like the next best attempt to start interacting more.

what were you doing? why weren’t you viewing his story? could you even see his story? did he accidentally block you?

these questions ran through his mind as he quickly rushed to check to make sure he hadn’t for some reason blocked you from seeing his story. he half wished he did because then at least he’d know what on earth was taking you so damn long to see the photo he was increasingly starting to hate more the longer it was posted.

“this is stupid.” he stated as he faced bokuto who had zero concerns in his method in gaining someone’s attention. “it works you just have to wait, trust me.”

kuroo frowned as the little red hearts of others who weren’t you fluttered from the bottom corner of the photo. “look!” his best friend grinned as he leaned over kuroo’s shoulder and pointed to the screen of his phone. “you’re getting likes on it!”

“what’s the point if they’re not likes from the person i posted this for in the first place.” kuroo grumbled back in response. he couldn’t believe he’d been subjected to such an attempt to gain some attention from you. it was ridiculous.

it had been about forty five minutes since he’d posted it and he was slowly losing his mind. sure, the post was going to be up for twenty four hours (if he didn’t give into the voices in his head telling him to delete it) so forty five minutes was nothing, but the minutes were beginning to feel like hours and he was dying inside. why weren’t you viewing it already and what could possibly be keeping you off your phone right now?

“this is stupid.” he decided as notifications from his old team mates started to flash up on his screen. the last thing he needed was lev replying with ‘looksmaxing’ to a post that was secretly dedicated to you. “no, it’s barely been up!” bokuto whined. “you look hot so you should get some replies anyway what’s the big deal?”

pinching the bridge of his nose, kuroo huffed. “the big deal is the person i posted this for hasn’t replied!” what was the point in making sure to go to the gym during a rest day just to take this photo if he wasn’t going to at least make his existence more known to you? he’d even worked his legs enough to the point of managing to achieve the sweaty but sexy look. the muscles in his legs were dying, but his dignity sure as hell wouldn’t.

the college student opened up his phone with the intention to end the mental war inside his head once and for all by deleting the post altogether. bokuto watched his friend in defeat but his eyes flashed. “yes they did!” he yelled and pointed to the screen as your name flashed at the top of his screen.

kuroo’s heart jumped at the sight of your profile picture he’d made a daily routine of staring at and the now blue dot indicating a message from your profile in his inbox. to think he was going to delete this post just a second too, what were the chances?

psyching himself up, kuroo took a few quiet deep breathes before letting the time next to your message pass for a few minutes. he wasn’t an instagram warrior by any means, but he knew enough about general rules in order to not look desperate online.

bokuto watched over his friends shoulders as the two stared in anticipation awaiting the message kuroo had been dying for. this was it. leg day two times in a row was gruelling and he’d regret it for the next few days but it would have been worth it. the countless messages from his old teammates mocking his attempts at a thirst trap could be looked past now that you had finally given into the bait he’d so carefully laid. this is what he’d been waiting for. days of preparing and deciding how to gain your attention had finally paid off and he was about to reap the rewards he’d sown.

clicking the message with baited breath, his heart raced as bokuto’s grip of his shoulder tightened. finally.

‘the label on your shirt is sticking out, make sure to cut it’

“a wins a win.” bokuto filled the silence between the pair as kuroo stared at his phone with a blank expression. “… a wins a win…”

[pinep-ne]

I know the Charthur Bandwagon (me included) never shuts up about this interaction but it's so DIFFERENT guys it's different I swear. There's just some moments between these two that are frighteningly personal and soft.

"...and Dutch was worried" Meaning Charles probably wasn't following Dutch's orders, but instead offered to look for Arthur himself, just mostly on account of Dutch's concern.

Or (and I like this one a lot better) he set out on account of his own worry, not really telling a lie, but still using Dutch's name to prick Arthur's ears and let him know it's time to come home. He wanted Arthur back himself.

"Soon, I promise" is UGH. I honestly think there's enough physical contact just in how they speak to each other. How Arthur's voice gets softer when he says it, like he's pushing Dutch out of the conversation and cupping his hands around just the two of them. Promising— like a vulnerable admission— in the sole attempt to ease Charles and his concern. The shift in his tone is so natural and secure and warm it hurts.

I know it's not canon and never will be, but you gotta admit there's a (arguably intentionally) blurred space in their relationship and it's affections that is terribly intimate, romantic or not.

[leahwllmsn]

so high school

alexia putellas x reader

You know two things about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia Putellas is the school’s football captain and troublemaker. From showing up late to most of her classes, to getting caught smoking under the bleachers—usually when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, it’s not anything good.

That’s why the second thing you know about Alexia Putellas is that you have to stay far, far away from her.

You are the picture perfect high school student. Straight A’s, president of the student council, president of the debate team, all the teachers love you, and all the students envy you. That’s why you promised yourself that you’ll never associate yourself with someone like Alexia Putellas.

It worked out well for years. You’ve been in the same school ever since you were kids but you have never said as much as a ‘hello’ to the brunette.

You’re happy about that.

Staying as far away as possible from Alexia Putellas means you will never get in trouble.

So with the years of experience of avoiding Alexia Putellas, you don't know how you get to this point. Maybe the universe wants to teach you a lesson, maybe the universe just doesn't like you, or maybe you have simply run out of luck. Because one moment you're taking down notes and the next, your history teacher has paired you up with the person you swear you’ll never interact with.

When class is over and everyone rushes out, you go up to the teacher because this is unfair, Alexia Putellas isn’t even in class today. And when he answers your complaints with a shrug and a tone so final that you know he won’t change his mind, you know you’re screwed.

-

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me neither,” your best friend sighs, unwrapping her lunch. “Can’t believe Ona is sick today and I have to put up with your ass alone.”

You roll your eyes. You’re sitting at your usual table at the cafeteria, the spot where Ona usually sits empty. “You would be nicer to me if you knew what just happened to me.”

“Did you get detention?”

“As if,” you scoff. “Now that I think about it, this is worse.”

Aitana turns to look at you, eyebrow raising in question. “What could be worse than that in your standards?”

“This stupid history project.”

“You calling an assignment stupid? That’s a first.”

You let out a sigh, placing your head on the table. “It’s because I got paired up with Alexia Putellas.”

“No way.”

You don't have to look at Aitana to know that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You grunt in reply, your friends always seem to make fun of you every time you’re miserable about something.

“You know, y/n,” Aitana nudges you, causing you to lift your head. “She’s actually not that bad.”

You furrow your brows. “You’ve talked to her?”

“Obviously,” Aitana looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “She’s captain of the football team. I’m on the football team. Or did you forget?”

“Right,” you grimace as you remember that Alexia Putellas is Aitana’s captain. “Wait, but you’re actually friends with her outside of the field?” You shudder at the thought.

Aitana rolls her eyes. “You sound so dramatic right now.”

“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re friends with Alexia Putellas.”

“Stop saying her name like that,” Aitana laughs. “Sure, she brings trouble wherever she goes, but she’s not as bad as people made her out to be. And she’s a fantastic footballer.”

“She’s bad news,” you cross your arms. “Do you remember that time when she showed up to school one morning with her face so bruised up, all we could see were bandages?”

“Yeah,” Aitana says casually, taking a bite out of her lunch. “She got into a fight with someone from the men’s team.”

“Exactly!” you slap Aitana’s arm repeatedly. “She started a fight with the captain of the football team. She’s insane.”

“Men’s football team,” Aitana corrects your statement. “And was it the captain? I swore I remember it being that good-for-nothing defender. Anyway, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

You shrug. “She’s still bad news.”

“And she’s also your history project partner,” Aitana grins at you. “I have her number if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” you sigh, once again placing your head on the table. “I’ll go look for her after school.”

“Cheer up, grumpy. I have a feeling you’ll like her.”

You scoff. “I think you’re way off, but sure.”

-

tana: oni, first day without you here and y/n is a grumpy mess

y/n: I’m in pain. Stfu.

oni: what’d I miss

tana: y/n’s on her way to talk to alexia

oni: ????

y/n: It’s not what you think.

y/n: I have to talk to her about our history project.

oni: ...goodluck?

y/n: Thanks, I need it.

tana: vry dramatic

-

You have never imagined yourself to be where you are right now. Everyone knows that under the bleachers is the spot where people go when they want to do things that they don’t want the teachers to see—like smoking, or maybe making out with someone. Or other things, you don't really know, because you have never been here.

And you won’t ever step foot in here if it’s not because of Alexia Putellas.

The second you step under the bleachers, the faint smell of smoke wafts up your nose and you have to blink back a couple of times because it’s not as bright as you expected. You figure it’s probably because it’s going to rain soon.

As you takes more steps forward, you realize that no one was there and that maybe you should’ve accepted Aitana’s offer of Alexia Putellas’ number.

You sigh and pull out your phone from the pocket of your jeans. You’re about to press the call button on Aitana’s contact when a voice startles you.

“Looking for me?”

You turn around and standing in front of you is the person you’ve been looking for.

(And you don't know why but the sight of Alexia Putellas in her leather jacket and messy brown hair is making your heart beat faster than it should.)

“I am.” you reply, walking towards her.

“The y/n l/n is looking for me? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

(You hate the way Alexia Putellas’ smirk doesn’t do anything to calm your racing heart.)

“You weren’t in history class today,” you cross your arms. “Why?”

“So you’re worried about me.”

“Why would I be?” you narrow your eyes at the brunette. “We’re partners for a project.”

“Cool.”

You want to scream at how frustrated you are at this whole thing. Alexia Putellas doesn’t care about her grades, she has proven that many times when teachers have always used her as an example of having multiple failing grades. You wonder if they’d expel her if she isn’t the superstar captain of the women’s football team.

“Look,” you rub your temple. “I’m not thrilled about this either—”

“Who says I’m not thrilled?”

“You’re Alexia Putellas, I highly doubt you’d be thrilled about an assignment.”

“Maybe for once I’m thrilled because I have you as a partner.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “As I was saying, you probably don’t want to do this, right? Which is fine, because what I’ll do is that I’ll get it done and I’ll still put in your name.”

Alexia gives you a confused look. “So you’ll do all the work?”

“Exactly. We don’t have to interact at all, problem solved.”

“You don’t want to hang with me?” Alexia pouts. “I’m sad, y/n.”

And you’re starting to feel the heat rising to your cheeks—no, it's not because of the pout on Alexia Putellas’ face showing just how plump her lips are and it's definitely not because of the sudden thought that flashes in your mind about how those lips would feel on your own. No, you will argue that it's not because of all that. It’s because it has started raining and it’s making it even stuffier under the bleachers.

“I’m going to leave now,” you announce. “It was good to talk to you.”

When you walk past her, you don’t expect her to grab you by the wrist (and you don’t expect Alexia Putellas’ touch to be so gentle).

“Wait,” Alexia starts. “We’re partners, right? I should at least contribute to something.”

You look down at your wrist, still seeing Alexia’s hand around it. “Uhm, I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Alexia lets go of her hold (and you would be lying if you say you don't feel the slight disappointment creeping in). “It’s not because of that,” Alexia clarifies. “I just want to do it.”

You still look unconvinced and Alexia must’ve noticed too, because she rolls her eyes and murmurs, “Is my reputation really that bad that me wanting to participate in my own assignment is such a surprise?”

“Yes? It’s a two-month long project. Even I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Alexia ignores your answer and proceeds to pull out her phone. She unlocks it and hands it to you.

You look at her questioningly and Alexia sighs. “Put your number in.”

“My number?”

“How should we contact each other about the project?”

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Alexia’s face. She looks determined and it’s weird to you because you figure she would just accept your offer of doing all the work for her. “You’re serious about this.”

“Just put your number and we’ll figure a schedule out.”

You’re still looking at Alexia skeptically but slowly reaches out to take the phone and put your number in nonetheless.

And when you see that her phone wallpaper is a picture of her smiling (adorably) at the camera next to her dog, you don’t think that’s how a troublemaker should look like. You wonder just how much you know about Alexia Putellas.

-

Their first meeting doesn’t go well—you expected this.

You agreed to meet at the library after school the next day and you have been sitting there, waiting for an hour until you decide to give up because stupid Alexia Putellas is nowhere to be found. You are so pissed.

You get up and slings your backpack over your shoulder. You make it to the parking lot and are about to unlock your car when you hear a voice call out to you.

“y/n!”

You don't have to turn around to know who the voice belongs to. It’s the same voice you heard yesterday under the bleachers (and the voice that somehow made it to your dream last night, but you will never admit this).

You ignore the calls and keep on walking. You’re a few steps away from your car when suddenly Alexia catches up to you and jumps in front of you, making you jump slightly and halting your steps.

“Hey.” Alexia says, trying to catch her breath.

You cross your arms, scowling at her. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Ten minutes is late, an hour just means you never wanted to come in the first place.”

Alexia winces. “I do want to come, I swear. I overslept.”

You look unamused. “It’s 3 p.m.”

“I know,” Alexia flashes a sheepish smile. “I decided to take a nap while I wait for your debate thing to end, but I overslept.”

And you would have never believed that excuse if it’s not for the groggy voice and the pillow face she’s wearing. So you just sigh and motion for her to follow you as you walk towards the bleachers because that’s the only place you could think of going since the library is closing soon.

-

“I really am sorry for making you wait.”

You’re sitting at the top of the bleachers, you at the tallest step with your laptop on your lap and Alexia looking up at you from one step below.

“It’s fine,” your replies were short. You’re still a little bit annoyed at the whole situation. If you could’ve picked a partner for history class, it would be Ona. Ona will never be late and Ona will never annoy you this much.

But the way that Alexia keeps on apologizing every few minutes and looking away with a pout on her face when you don't respond, you’re also sure that Ona will never make your heart flutter the way it does around Alexia Putellas—and you don’t want to think of what this could mean.

-

After an hour of sitting uncomfortably under the hot sun, you figure out another thing about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia Putellas is incredibly smart and you’re surprised at how eloquent she is when she lists down everything she knows about the history of Catalonia.

“You fail almost all your classes.” you speak up.

“Yes,” Alexia nods. “What does that have to do with anything I just said?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to say all that.”

Alexia grins at her. “Do you like surprises, y/n?”

“Uhm, I guess.” you stare back at her confused.

Alexia hums. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep on surprising you.”

You don't respond because you don’t know how to. So you focus your attention back to your laptop and try your best to type something down in order to take your mind off how Alexia Putellas is doing something to you and you’re not sure if it's a good thing or not.

-

Your next meeting starts off well. Alexia is early, you walk into the library to find the brunette already there, her usual leather jacket folded on the chair next to her.

It’s a week after your first meeting and you will never admit it, but you have been looking forward to this day for the whole week.

(It’s because you just want to get this project done, you would convince yourself.)

(Not because in the classes you have with Alexia, she always sits at the back when you sit at the front, so you never really get to see her.)

(No, it’s not because of this.)

“Hi, boss,” Alexia smiles at you. “I didn’t oversleep today.”

“That’s good to hear,” you say, sitting down and opening your bag to take out your laptop.

“I know you’re proud of me.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile on your lips. “Where do you even take your naps?”

“Under the bleachers.”

“Seriously?” you raise your eyebrows. “That must be uncomfortable.”

Alexia shrugs. “There’s a bed.”

“I’m sorry—what?”

“There’s this small mattress. I don’t know who it belongs to or why it’s there, but it’s there.”

You nod, a confused expression still on your face. “I see.”

“I can take you there sometime.”

You don't know if Alexia meant it in a flirty way, but judging by the smirk on her face, she did. So you just roll your eyes and type in the password to your laptop. “You should take me out to dinner first.”

“Okay, I will.” Alexia says it so nonchalantly and you wonder if Alexia’s stomach is filling up with butterflies too.

-

It’s not until the third meeting that you start to text each other with stuff unrelated to the project.

ale: did u know that chipmunks have 4 toes on their back paws but 5 toes on their front ones

y/n: No?

ale: well now u do :-)

y/n: Did you know that you look like you’re part of the chipmunk family?

ale: ???

ale: heeey

y/n: What’s up?

ale: nothin, just thinking about u

y/n: Why

ale: just because

y/n: Are you expecting me to say that I’m thinking about you too?

ale: you are? :D

y/n: No.

ale: whatever ;(

y/n: Why was the chipmunk late for work?

ale: did I miss a conversation somewhere

y/n: Because traffic was nuts.

ale: …

ale: I love it

And it’s not until the fifth meeting that you realize another thing about Alexia Putellas, and that is: Alexia Putellas makes you smile a lot.

You wonder what people think about when the stupid smile on your face appears every time you receive a text from her. Even Ona and Aitana have been pestering you non-stop about it and you’re running out of excuses as to why with every notification you receive, your lips seem to curve upwards automatically.

ale: u look beautiful

y/n: ?

ale: just stating what I see

y/n: Smooth talker. You’re not even here.

ale: I am, on ur right

y/n: Oh wow.

y/n: Aren’t you always out smoking under the bleachers during lunch?

ale: you pay attention :D

You stop once you read Alexia’s text because you do pay attention.

Suddenly, you can’t count on your fingers anymore about how many things you know about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia has a ‘resting bitch face’, that's one of the reasons why people are scared of her. She never smiles when she walks down the hallway, her face barely shows any emotion.

Alexia likes to intimidate people, she does that when people stare at her too long and she glares at them in return. And when they scurry away, she would smile in amusement.

Alexia likes to get into trouble, it’s like she purposely wants to get into trouble with how she picks a fight with someone every week and how she always talks back to the teacher.

Alexia Putellas is exactly how people paint her out to be—a reckless troublemaker who doesn’t care about anything and is always angry at the world about something.

But at the same time, you know that's not everything about her.

You know that Alexia is ridiculously talented at football. You’ve come to their matches enough to figure out that every time she touches the ball, it’s magic. You were there in support of Aitana and Ona, obviously. Not Alexia. (But your YouTube history being full of Alexia’s games may be because you were interested in staring at her. Not that you would admit it).

You know that Alexia is warm and gentle and she has different types of smiles. Alexia has a small smile every time she locks eyes with you in the hallways. Alexia has that smile that reaches her eyes when she laughs at something you say even though you’re pretty sure it’s not even that funny. Alexia has a wistful smile every time the day ends and you leave in your car and she leaves in hers.

You know that Alexia taps her foot repeatedly when she’s focusing on doing something. You know that Alexia has the attention span of a five year old because every five minutes, she would whine about how she’s hungry or how she’s getting tired of the library.

You know that Alexia is funny and she makes you laugh so much that you have lost track on how many times the librarian has told you to keep it down.

You know that Alexia is sweet and charming and she says things that make you want to run home and hide because your cheeks would always redden up.

You know that you like seeing a smile on Alexia’s face a thousand times more than the scowl she’s known to have.

ale: hey? why are u spacing out

And even though you feel that you now know everything about Alexia, you realize that you still don't know one thing about her.

You don’t know why Alexia is so different when she’s around you.

-

You are a problem-solver. That is one of the reasons why you’re such a good student—once you encounter a problem, you immediately think of ways to figure it out and most of the time, it’ll only take you a couple of hours to do so.

And so, you are baffled at how you still can’t figure out the mystery of Alexia Putellas.

You’ve spent most of your time together wondering why Alexia seems to smile more when you’re there or why no one but you sees the sparkle in Alexia’s eyes that is brighter than any stars out there, but the answer seems to never come to you.

So when your project has finally ended and you would no longer have your weekly meetings at the library, you should’ve noticed the dejected look on Alexia’s face and that should’ve given you a clue to the answer you have been so desperately searching for.

But apparently you’re not that smart after all, because once your last meeting ends, you bid Alexia goodbye and go home to spend the rest of your day watching Netflix.

And when Alexia doesn’t text you at night like she usually would, you don't think much of it and let yourself sleep instead.

-

You don't see Alexia the following week. She’s not in the cafeteria, or in the hallways, or even in the classes you share once you look to the back of the classroom where she usually sits.

Alexia doesn’t text you either and you know you should’ve text her first, but you figure Alexia is just busy so you don’t reach out.

And when you don't see Alexia in school for another week but Aitana and Ona see her at practice, you realize that Alexia has been avoiding you.

-

You have never been good with feelings. Especially if it involves someone who you have swore you would stay far, far away from.

So you have been ignoring all these feelings inside of you, ignoring the way your heart speeds up at the mention of Alexia, ignoring how your dreams are now filled with Alexia’s sweet face.

But it’s reached a point where you can’t ignore it anymore because the ache in your heart after not having heard from Alexia in weeks was getting bigger and bigger.

It’s that yearning in your chest that causes you to walk to Alexia’s spot under the bleachers in hopes that she’s there. And when you see her leaning against a pole, one hand in the pocket of her leather jacket and the other holding a cigarette, you finally admit that you might be in love with Alexia Putellas.

“Hi.”

You could see Alexia slightly jump in surprise at your voice. She turns around and her eyes widen when they lock with yours.

“y/n.” Alexia says, her tone clearly showing that she’s not expecting to see you.

“Are you avoiding me?” you jump straight to the point.

“What? No. No?” Alexia stammers, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. “What makes you think so?”

You simply scoff and step closer to her. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“I know, you have straight A’s.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you glare at her. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

When Alexia doesn’t reply, you add in a whisper, “I miss you.”

Alexia still isn’t replying, she just keeps on staring at you with a look that you can’t comprehend.

A second later, when Alexia reaches forward and pulls your face towards her and you can taste the smoke on Alexia’s lips, you realize that the answer you’ve been searching for seems to be simpler than you anticipated.

-

Now you don’t remember why you promised yourself to stay as far away as possible from Alexia. And you don't know how you could be happy about never having spoken to Alexia before.

Because with the way Alexia picks you up in the classes you don’t have together just to walk you to your next class and the way Alexia always waits up for your debate club to end before driving you home, you can list down a hundred more reasons why you should always stay near to Alexia.

Because Alexia feels like sunshine and Alexia makes you feel like you’re always walking on clouds.

Now when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, you knows it’s everything good in the world all at once.

[natlovesls2]

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

Lando x Fem!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), gaslighting, sexism/ internalized misogyny, swearing, no use of y/n, some plot but not much, rushed, grammar mistakes, etc. Please remember that this is fiction, and in no way represents Lando as a person

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.7k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You love Lando but he does not feel the same, no matter how long you've waited (For the most part its just inspired Sitting, Waiting, Wishing from the In Between Dreams album, as the title of the fic says)

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

You had always made it painfully clear to Lando that your feelings for him were anything but platonic. If the constant heart eyes weren't enough to prove it then the little gifts and compliments surely should have made it abundantly clear. Surely he wasn’t THAT oblivious, and he wasn’t. You had often heard him boasting to his friends about your everlasting and eager love for him. There was one such instance that you remembered quite well– he had asked you to be his date to some event, in which you had, of course, ended up alone. “Thanks for agreeing to be my date, don’t know what I’d do without you,” he had said as if it even mattered that you were there. 

You watched Lando interact with some bitch he met at– long having forgotten about your presence. Sometimes it felt as if you were a stranger who was invading his space– uninvited and unwanted. She hadn’t wronged you in any way and, yet, you hated her. You hated her stupid face and her stupidly short dress that made her look like a cheap whore. It was obvious that it had to be the reason he was so enamored with her, she looked easy and Lando loved easy girls– and she was practically begging to be fucked. She wrapped her hand around Landos arm and you wished you would walk over to them and break her fucking arm. 

He made it very clear that night that he would never love you, at least not in a romantic sense, he's made that perfectly clear. But no matter how many times he humiliates you, you will fight for his affection, always. Even if that affection comes in the form of lust and only ever is lust.

His constant disregard for your feelings led you to promise yourself that you wouldn’t find yourself in this position with Lando again. In fact, you had sworn that last time would be the final time you found yourself tangled in his bed sheets. Truthfully you had never been strong minded, always giving up on those fitness challenges and never finishing the long books you bought with the intent to feel smart and accomplished. But you were tired of being so destructive– of ruining yourself for someone who obviously didn't give a rats ass. Maybe that's why you were in his apartment, to end it all– at least that's what you were telling yourself. It was all rather pathetic: the look you gave him as he went on about whatever he‘d been going through before you had gotten there. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, bringing his hands to rest on either side of your hips, occasionally rubbing circles with his thumbs. You knew what he’d be doing if you weren’t there, fucking whatever bimbo threw herself at him. He pulled you closer, resting his head in the crook of your neck, “You’re awfully quiet– what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You could feel yourself begin to give into his intentions– you never were good at saying no to him. After all, your plan to avoid him and kick him out of your life altogether had lasted nearly two weeks… more like five days, but stretching the truth has never hurt anyone.

“Nothing,” you sigh, threading your fingers through his hair, slowly melting into his touch. You could resist the feeling his voice and touch brought upon you. You suppose that's why you’re here again, clothes slightly askew and hair a messy tangle. His hands eagerly explore the expanse of your body, lips impatiently marking down your neck. “I've missed this so much,” he raggedly whispers against your shoulder, rolling his hips against your own. His hands continue to wander, coming to rest at your clothed breasts, gently squeezing them. 

You pull his head up, body leaning into his in a heated kiss– feeling the vibration of his moans against your lips. This wasn’t something you were particularly proud of, but it kept him close to you. It allowed him to show an ounce of affection towards you, even if that affection was pure and unfiltered lust. “Need you,” you whispered in between rushed kisses, trailing kisses down the side of his jaw.  

“I know” he grunted, movements slowing as he brought his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, fingers ghosting over your underwear. Gently applying pressure to your clothed clit, stopping only to move your panties to the side, “God, baby, you’re already so wet.” He teasingly ran his finger up your slit and back down, only inserting the tip of his finger. Lando smirked down at you when you greedily attempted to shift your hips in hopes of getting some sort of relief. He kissed the expanse of your thighs, pulling your underwear down your legs and away. A few more kisses were placed on your thighs before he turned his attention to your pussy, teasingly licking and kissing the area. 

“Please,” you let out a whine as he slowly inserted a finger into your needy and begging pussy. He chuckled at the strangled moan that left your mouth, pressing kisses down your body, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. He continued to work his finger in and out of your pussy, adding another after a while, getting you ready for what was to come.

“Take this off,” he mumbled against your cunt, impatiently pulling the hem of your shirt up exposing your stomach, urging you to pull it off the rest of the way. You pulled the shirt off, tossing it aside before doing the same with your bra.

Your thighs involuntarily close around his head as he curls his fingers, thrusting them a few more times before removing them. He smirked at you, watching as your chest rapidly rose and fell, pushing his face further between your thighs– lapping up your arousal. The slurping like noise coming from between your thighs, giving you a wave of embarrassment as you reached down to tug at his curls. He fucked his tongue in and out, occasionally pulling fully out to run it up to your clit– swirling the nub around. His fingers found their way inside you again as he noticed your brows furrow together, a sign you were getting closer to coming. He increased his speed as your back arched, whines becoming loud moans as you clench around his fingers. 

“I’ll never get tired of seeing that,” he whispers, kissing up your body, wrapping his mouth around your left nipple, cupping and groping your other boob. 

“Mm” you whine, reaching a hand down to massage at his bulge. You felt him smirk against your breast, letting it go with an audible pop.

“So impatient, so desperate for a good fucking, huh?”

You nod rapidly, pushing at his pants, watching as he unbuttons his pants and kicks them off along with his underwear. He smirks as you open your legs wider, wincing slightly as he strokes his almost painfully hard dick, lining it up to your entrance. Perhaps you should have cared a little more as he pushed in with a condom, but in the moment it felt good to be wanted.

 A shuddered breath left you as he began to thrust, strong and steady, the faint sound of skin slapping against skin sounding in the room. “Feels so fucking good,” shakily said, wrapping your legs around Landos waist. Truly it felt as if your whole body had been lit on fire, you were burning with desire. 

“I know it does, baby– shit,” he grunted, slamming his hips against your own at a fast pace, snaking his hand down to rub tight circles against your clit. You clenched around him, quickly reaching your second orgasm. He sped up, holding your hips down, the headboard slamming against the wall. With a deep groan Lando came, spilling inside of you, he pulled out laying down beside you. 

“You don’t need me to drive you home do you?” he asked tiredly, voice a little shaky. 

“No, I drove here.” You stood up collecting your clothes, slipping them on one article at a time. The embarrassment began to seep in, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You sighed, turning to face Lando who now sat at the edge of his bed, “I can’t do this anymore, Lando.”

“Do what?”

“God, you know what I mean!” you said exasperatedly, running a hand through your sweaty and unruly hair.  

“I don’t, so why don't you enlighten me?” he said back, his tone shifting to something more harsh instead of the innocent tone he had been using.

“Us– this whole back and forth thing. I can’t– I just… I love you and you don’t love me. And I can’t continue to be the person you only use when you need them.”

“What?” he rose from his spot, glaring at you.

“God, don’t act like you haven’t noticed– I’ve made it pretty fucking obvious, Lando,” you raised your voice, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“You haven't–” he started. 

“Yeah, because sleeping with you isn't obvious enough. Just cut the bullshit.”

“I don’t know what you expect of me, I thought you were okay with being friends– we’ve had this conversation before, you said it was fine,” he took a step closer to you, eyes glaring into your own. He was challenging you, like he always did, because he knew you always gave in. Always accepted whichever shitty excuse he gave. Always accepted the whole “I’m not ready for a relationship” spiel. 

“Friends don’t fuck eachother, Lando.”

“Well we do, and if you can’t accept that we’ll never be more than friends then you can take your slutty ass out of here.” This was your breaking point. It hadnt been his abandonment at parties, or the way he bragged about how you let him fuck you to his friends, or the sheer lack of care for your emotional wellbeing. No, it was the way he had spat that word at you– slut. That's all you had been throughout the majority of your friendship. A hole that had been willing to be filled.

You started at him, mouth agape with disbelief, “You’re a fucking asshole. Oh my god, how did I not notice,” you let out a humorless laugh, shoving him out of the way. And as you walked out of his home, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You had a lot to learn and unlearn.

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚note: this was my first time writing smut, so I apologize if it sucks or makes no sense. feedback is appreciated, but please be nice because I scare easily lol

[wisteria-html]

Gonna do this fast and then continue not interacting.

To start: reread every post I made recently regarding things. I don’t believe I said you abandoned me the second time. I was talking about you hurting me. The anon is the one who said you left, but all I said was “Vahn hurt and still does.” I’m not rewriting anything.

I didn’t put in the effort to reach out to you the first time because I didn’t think you wanted me to. It hurt me a lot but also I left you alone because it seemed that was what you wanted. You left and said we weren’t going to be able to hang out and I let you be. I try my hardest not to push boundaries and that seemed like a serious one.

Then the second time I tried. I tried so fucking hard but I hit my breaking point after Laika. Sue me. The part that hurts wasn’t you not reaching out, I know that I asked you not to, it was you refusing to learn or grow when I was next to you but the second I left you immediately became capable of change. Not before being mean to me and calling me a limp noodle, but you changed nonetheless. That hurt me, to think I wasn’t important enough for you to change for, but you know what I didn’t do? Reach out. Yell at you. I’ve been on the sidelines rooting for you as you grew but not interacting because that’s what’s best.

I don’t talk about you. When I do it’s for me, not for you. I try not to think about you. I finally turned off notifications because I realized that there was no point in them. Like I said, I do wish you the best. I’m glad you’re happier now. I’m glad Mal is good for you. But I care about all of my friends who care about me in return and are respectful of the people around them. You turned out to be neither.

I hope you continue to grow. I try to not post about you (and that was also why I turned off notifications: to get rid of the urge). I responded to an anonymous ask and then moved on.

Do not claim to know what I will do. Do not claim I don’t care about people when that’s literally all I do. Goodbye and good luck.

Putting this out here for when Wisteria inevitably tries to rewrite the narrative as me abandoning them.

[roseykat]

TITLE: How each of the members talks to you during sex

SUMMARY: blurbs on how each of the members talk to you/verbally treat you during sex!

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, mentions of sexual intercourse, cumplay, breeding, humiliation, dirty talk, swearing, use of names such as good girl, baby girl, angel, slut bunny.

MASTERLIST

A/N: haven’t done an OT8 piece in a while. Next work is ‘Play Night’ from my Play series! Really sorry for pedalling out content slower than usual, just been a busy gal as of late and also working on the rest of my promised parts to other works too. Those will be prioritised over the new ideas I have x

BANG CHAN

He is an absolute king at communicating. Chan will verbalise to you how he feels just about every step of the way when he’s hitting it in every position. He’s letting you know how insane your pussy makes him feel, how good his body feels. At the same time, he is also the type of person to say things such as ‘do you like it when I do that?’, ‘what about this way?’, ‘can you feel that?’

Chan also has this thing he likes to do where he cums first, inside you of course, then focuses on making you orgasm next so that when he pulls out, he can see your pussy pulsate and try to squeeze out his seed. He'd plug your sensitive hole with a few of his fingers, stroking your creamy walls. Doing something like that will compel him to say something like 'look at this mess princess, need daddy to fuck it back into you?', 'that's it, don't wanna waste a single drop, right baby?'

MINHO

You’re his personal wet, fuck toy and he’ll see you as nothing else unless you’re making love. If that’s the case, there’s barely any talk except ‘I love you’s’. Which is never a bad thing because the physicality speaks for itself. But if you’re not his love, you’re his whore, his little slut bunny that he rails and lets you know that you are one.

He’ll have a hand on your throat, leaning down into your ear which forces you to hear his every word. Minho also mock-moans you as almost a form of humiliation. Every time you scream out that you’re going to cum, he’ll repeat your words in the same manner just to be a dick. But for some reason, it’s fucking hot.

CHANGBIN

A man of principle as we all know, and as a man of principle, he sticks to what he believes. And what’s that exactly? He believes that you are his. So yes he can be quite possessive and is vocal about it in the bedroom, or, wherever it is that he decides to fuck your brains out.

Changbin is letting you know that your pussy is his, is for him, is for his taking. He’ll tell you that your tits are for him to suck on. He’ll tell you your body is for him to mark, that your ass is for him to grope, slap, and grab. Above all, Changbin will not fail to also tell you how beautiful you are with him. Possessive Binnie is a staple concept.

HYUNJIN

Almost similar to Chan in a way, Hyunjin will let you know how he feels. But similar to his artistic streak, he can actually be really descriptive with what goes on in bed despite his semi-soft personality that would wrongly suggest that he's shy. For example, he will tell you something along the lines of ‘keep squeezing around me baby girl’, ‘need to fuck this pussy forever,' 'need to see you dripping with my cum.’

Lately, you’ve noticed a spike in Hyunjin’s obsession with breeding and that has massively impacted the way that he talks to you. Ever since he heard and read up on the phenomenon of his newly acquired kink, he can’t stop saying things to you like; ‘gonna be a good girl and have my kids, huh? Wanna breed this pretty pussy - fuck my bloodline into you’ - something unhinged like that.

JISUNG

Again, under the switch!Jisung agenda, depending on what way he leans for the night dictates how he talks to you in bed. If he’s subbing, and you’re fucking him? Oh, he is whining. Whining to you like a bitch in heat, telling you to spit in his mouth, how much he loves it when you fuck him, he’d tell you to go harder and faster until he passes out. He’d shamelessly cry out ‘I’m gonna cum - you’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum’ repeatedly and without a care in the world.

When he tops, he has the same level of communication but with the opposite style of talk. Out of all of these guys, Jisung is up there with one of the filthiest mouths. Saying things to you like ‘look at all this cream around your pussy, makes me want to fuck you with my tongue,’ or, ‘I’ll fucking make you cum as many times as I want, I need you spilling on these sheets you hear me?’ He just becomes totally deranged because of you.

FELIX

Words of affirmation are just a top-tier love language of his just as much as physical affection. Felix will speak to you in the most loving manner possible when he’s doing the dirtiest of things to your body. Like fingering your wet, oversensitive pussy and breathing into your ear, how much he loves your dripping hole. How it only gets that wet for him.

Felix would be into a lot of fun activities in the bedroom but at your own sanity really. They're activities that could involve edging for more than an hour. Similarly, overstimulation as well that could last over an hour. In those instances, Felix is showering you with praise. Every orgasm or every time you try and hold off - 'my angel, look at how well you're going. So wet and perfect. Makes me want to just stop now and fuck you. You want that, don't you? Want to cum on my cock instead?"

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin’s form of verbalisation is almost like some type of militarisation, like he’s handing out instructions to you as if it’s the army. In the bedroom, whenever there’s edging, overstimulation, rope, handcuffs, toys, contraptions of sorts, chains, you name it, he will be telling you what to do and will say things like ‘hold your arms out so I can tie them,’ ‘open up that mouth nice and wide’, ‘spread those legs for me’, ‘make sure you swallow everything I give you’, and it’s always in a nonchalant, indifferent, and uncaring tone. 

In a way, it’s reiterating that he calls the shots, and sometimes it feels like he's using your body - which is welcomed here and there. Other than that, Seungmin can say some pretty out there stuff too which makes you wonder where it all comes from. Such as ‘need to keep fucking this pretty pussy of yours otherwise I’ll go crazy’, ‘not stopping until you squirt all over my cock’, ‘that’s it, fuck yourself on my dick until you cum.’

JEONGIN

Jeongin is a different breed of cattle when it comes to the way he speaks to you in the bedroom. He’s the type of person to praise you first, then belittle you in the next second or the opposite way around. He is the first person to call you a 'whore' or a 'cock-driven slut' whenever you beg him to fuck you. Then once he does, he will call you his 'good girl', his 'sweet girl' for taking his cock so well <3

Jeongin can, for the most part, be a receiver - in the sense that he makes you do all the work just to punish you and not necessarily because you or he wants you to take control. That does happen every now and then, but whenever he’s receiving head or you’re riding him, he’s still the boss. He’ll still tell you to ‘ride my cock faster’, egging you on by saying ‘I know you can do better than that’, ‘what? You want to cum? I think you can wait.’ He’d just be a menace tbh.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

[recareels]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ sunday + the nickname ‘sunny’

character: sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, size difference, fem reader words: 781

“Sunny!” 

Juvenile and trashy, he used to hate that nickname. 

He used to hate that nickname, until you. 

It���s funny, how the meaning of a word can change with a single person, in a single instant. 

The first time you use it, Sunday doesn’t even have the heart to tell you how much he despises it—because suddenly, he doesn’t anymore. 

That’s all it took; two syllables, falling from your lips wrapped in a melodic laugh. Two syllables, vibrating on your tongue, eyes sparkling as they found his, and his whole view on the wretched nickname had changed. 

Because it sounds so beautiful when you say it, sucked on in the heat of your mouth, warm and syrupy as melted sugar. It sounds so special when you say it, filtered through an everlasting smile—his smile, the one you save just for him, the one that no one else gets to see, gets to procure—thickly embraced in love and reverence and worship. 

You say it like it’s a prayer, like it’s a vow. You say it with such passionate fondness that it sounds like a promise, an oath swearing that you will never leave, that you will love him, wholly and completely, for eternity. 

“You know, I used to hate the nickname Sunny,” he finally tells you one night while you’re laying in bed, voice lullabied.

It’s late—too late for you to be awake, truthfully—and you had fallen asleep waiting up for him, desperate to catch a glimpse of him after nearly twenty-four hours of his absence. 

But the moment he had entered the bedroom—sock-clad feet quiet on the hardwood, steps kept light and agile, silver door handle twisted with such meticulous care and precision that he’s sure it didn’t make a single sound—you were up, lashes fluttering against the halo of golden light spilling past him in the doorway.

A sixth sense, he likes to call it. Something intimate and instinctual that alerts you to his presence, the moment he’s in your general vicinity. A divine intuition borne out of your ethereal and everlasting love for him. 

A hum vibrates on his chest, your cheek nuzzling into his sternum. 

“Why?” 

“Because it sounded…” silly, stupid, unsophisticated. “Wrong, coming from the lips of anyone. Anyone else, but you.” 

“And now?”

Now, it’s special, significant, personal. 

Now, he loves it. 

He loves it, always. 

He loves it when it’s laughed out, stuttered by giggles or the slap of your tennis shoes against stone in the courtyard while you gracefully leap from his touch, the linen of your dress teasingly brushing his fingertips, narrowly escaping his grasp.

He loves it when it’s squealed out, pitched high and stringy and filtered through a pout, usually accompanied by knitted brows or a stomped foot. Sunny, be serious! you cry, features scrunching further at his tender chuckle.

I am serious, darling, he always responds, but he can never quite dim those adoring twinkles shimmering in his eyes, mollifying his gaze to something soft and lidded, playful affection toying with the corners of his mouth. You’re just too cute. 

He loves it when it’s gasped out, nothing more than a breathy wisp on your tongue, pushed from your chest by his relentless thrusts and repeated until it breaks, letters shattering on your lips, cunt convulsing around him.

Even fractured with bliss, it still sounds so heavenly coming from your throat, shards of it lingering on your tongue even after he’s pumped you full of thick cum and panted his own rapture into your waiting, wanting mouth—Sun-Su-Sun-ny, bits of the name wheezed out in little whines; desperate, divine, dissolving on his tongue, little fingers clawing and clinging to his heaving form as it curls around your own.

He loves it when it’s slurred out in those early morning hours when he finally returns to you, murmured into your pillow and drowning in a pool of thick spit, letters heavy with sleep. Sunny, you whimper again, turning toward the heat of his body, hands groping blindly, eyes still glued shut with exhaustion. Missed you, s’much, Sunny, you mumble into his sternum as you rub your cheek along it, catlike. My Sunny. 

He loves it, forever. 

“Now, it’s perfect,” he murmurs into your hair, sealing the proclamation with a kiss. “Now, it’s my favourite.”

Admittedly, he still hates it when anyone else uses it, but it’s for a different reason now. No longer is the nickname childish and asinine, but instead it is yours, special and sacred, a term of endearment allowed just for you. It has been transformed by your lips and your love, metamorphosed into something sacrosanct.

And Sunday wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[underratedbreadcrust]

Chance Equals Fortune — Chapter One

Squid Game | The Salesman x F!Reader

Summary: you find yourself questioning your next moves, debating whether to take the salesman up on his offer. meanwhile, somewhere else, the salesman and gi-hun play a game and exchange some words.

Warnings: swearing, mention of guns, ,drinking, nothing too bad.

a/n: tiktok just went down i am in despair. btw, holy crap, i didn't expect to get that much attention on my previous chapter, thank you all so much for the support! i am so sorry it took so long for this to come out but from now on i will do my best to upload consistently. the next chapter shouldn't take as long as this one.

Words: 2.9k

<<previous part

456-034

You rolled the card between your fingers, the glossy surface reflecting the numbers through the poorly lit bar where you were currently seated. The weight of the card—the one that would change everything—lay heavy in your hand. You brought the glass up to your lips, taking in a large swig of alcohol and downing it all in one gulp. Your mind drifted back to the game, the endless rounds of ddakji that stretched on far longer than either of you had expected. Your mind couldn't stop drifting back to the man who gave you the card, the salesman. His arrogance in approaching you and the confidence in his tone believing he would win, made beating him feel that much sweeter. Not to mention, you couldn't get out of your head the promise he had made—the games.

“The prize involves a large sum of money.” Those were his words. “A chance to change everything.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face in frustration as the replay of his words refused to cease. You weren't stupid. No organization on earth would be willing to offer large amounts of money to those in debt without wanting something in return. 

What the hell would I be getting into? 

You could feel it in the way the businessman described the games, the hesitation beneath his perfect, pre-rehearsed words. The games were possibly dangerous, deadly even. 

Your thoughts continued to float back to the man, unable to let go the image of his defeat. He hadn't expected it, you had. You remembered the way his eyes had shifted—just a flicker—but it had been enough to feel the rush of power that coursed through you. The kind that surged up your spine as you watched him stumble, the look of frustration barely contained under his sharp features. It brought a twisted smile to your face, a sort of satisfaction that you hadn't felt in a very long time.

You scoffed at yourself, you can’t let a single interaction with a person who matched your competitive energy let you fall back into that dangerous train of thinking. It was that sort of attitude that led you to your financial problem in the first place. 

Disappointment. Deceit. Debt.

You'd already dodged enough bullets, danced with enough sharks to know the results of your reckless actions. Yet, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, your need to play had always won over any rational reasoning. Something about what the man had offered felt different, a new kind of gamble. Bigger stakes, bigger rewards. You could feel the possibilities swirling in your mind.

As you stood from your spot, pocketing the card, everything felt fuzzy—like you were floating, drifting on the edge of a decision, unsure if you should let go or pull yourself back to reality. You weren’t such a lightweight but right now it seems as if you’ve passed your limit. You try to regain your balance as you stumble towards the exit, the loud music and flashing lights disorienting as you bump into multiple people along the way.

Once you reach the outside, the fresh air makes you feel like you’ve rediscovered how to breathe. You inhale deeply, doing your best to walk along the dimly lit streets of Seoul, the sidewalks inhabited by those enjoying the city's nightlife. You call for a cab and once you’ve given the address to the driver, you sit back against the seat and take in the views drifting by. The city's neon lights blurred into streaks against the darkness, drowning everything around you in an almost dreamlike haze.

If I were to join the games….

The thought made your pulse quicken, in anticipation or fear you couldn’t tell, both emotions had melted into a single feeling long ago. The rules were simple. Win, and you could start over, away from the poverty and death threats that have taken over your daily routine. No matter how far you ran, your creditors always found you. Last time it was money, next week they would take your eyes. You knew that you would no longer be able to survive on your own, not anymore.

The thought made you chuckle…survival. What was survival if not just a slow death with a different name? A quieter, more painful death.

Finally arriving at your apartment, you paid the driver with the bit of cash you still had on you and walked up the steps of the building. Once you reached the front door, you stood motionless, feeling the outline of the card through your pocket, the weight of the decision pressing down on your chest. Out here, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you didn’t stand a chance. But now, you were given a choice. A choice to win.  

The corners of your mouth twitched as the decision hardened inside of you. You never lose.

So why stop now?

“Let's play a game.”

At the moment, both the salesman and Gi-hun were sitting across from each other, face to face, observing each other's expressions under the multicolored fluorescent lights inside the motel. One of their faces showed loathing and disgust, his eyes glossed over with hatred and the pain of everyone he had ever lost. The other eyes were the complete opposite. Instead, shining at the prospect of a new challenge, a game in which either won or lost, would grant him one more chance to play. The blood marks on his face were the only betrayal of his deceptively put-together persona.

“I’m sure you’ve seen this in the movies. It’s called Russian Roulette.” He carefully placed one of the bullets in the gun’s chamber as he explained the rules. “But I’d like to make this game a little more serious,” his smile widened as the look in his eyes became increasingly more manic.

“Cut to the chase,” Gihun snapped.

The salesman’s eyebrow quirked in surprise. The man in front of him seemed nothing like that quivering coward who he met at the subway station long ago. Now, instead of darting, fearful eyes, Gi-hun’s gaze was almost vicious looking. Having transformed from that of a prey to a predator. I wouldn’t expect any less of the man who has been chasing me for the past 3 years. “We’ll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over,” his head tilted, his words serving nothing more than to provoke Gi-hun, “What do you say?”

Gi-hun glared at him, his jaw clenching and his lips pressing into a thin line. He was back to the start. Once again being forced to play games to have the chance of gaining an advantage. Now instead, he was required to risk all the work he had done up to this point to get closer to the man in charge. He gulped as he slowly nodded his head. It seems his gambling addiction was still rooted deep into his being. However, instead of splurging his mother’s money, he had to wager his life. What other choice do I have?  The thought of all of his pain and labor to stop the games being in vain if he died didn’t even cross his mind. If I’m only one more bet away from the frontman, then so be it.

With that, the clash of two unrelenting forces began. As the rounds progressed, they each pulled the trigger, the odds of death increasing each time the gun shot blanks. Their postures became more rigid as they passed each other the gun. “Time to Say Goodbye” playing in the background, the slow and beautiful melody a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere between the two players. 

The recruiter took every opportunity to insult the other man, enjoying pushing all of the buttons he knew would rile up his competitor. He found it amusing just how effortless it was to provoke him. His confidence reached an all-time peak as the game reached its second to last round. The chance of dying now 50%. “Let me guess what you’re thinking right now…Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow this guy’s face off.” 

He knew it was dangerous to anger the man with a gun in hand, but above all, he wanted to prove his point. “But I’ll have you admit one thing.” Show him that he’s the same piece of shit that groveled at his feet for a bit of spare change during their first interaction. “That you’re a piece of trash, just like everybody else.” 

Even if it cost him his life.

The man was sure his opponent would cave. His survivor's guilt not being a good enough reason to pull the trigger. He could practically envision his next actions. Gi-hun’s hold on the gun would tighten, his expression filled with that disgusting self-righteousness. His hand beginning to shake at the prospect of dying before ultimately plunging the gun in the other’s face and— 

Gi-hun brought the gun up to his temple and pulled the trigger.

The gun didn’t go off.

Well shit.

Gi-hun slowly pulled the gun away from his head, his hand trembling as he pointed it at the salesman. The man in the suit looked at Gi-hun before tearing his eyes away and glancing at the weapon. He hesitantly lifted his hand, his fingers brushing the firearm as his arm drew closer—

“No.”

The salesman blinked at Gi-hun. “No?” As Gi-hun yanked the gun away from the salesman’s grasp, a swarm of questions began to form at a rapid pace inside his brain. What was he playing at? What was he going to do?

Why won’t he let me kill myself?

Gi-hun let out a heavy sigh as he slumped his shoulders and dropped his head. He fidgeted with the gun as his face turned contemplative, weighing over his current options. He looked exhausted. Finally, he redirected his focus to examine the other man, his eyes raking over his form as if that way he could unearth a deeply concealed secret.

“To let you die now, just because you lost…would be no better than what he does.” Silence. The air became thick. The only sounds audible were the ending notes of the song still emanating from the businessman’s phone. Suddenly, a cackle burst through the room, the noise sounding foreign in the serious setting. The mirthless laughter erupted from the salesman as Gi-hun’s words sunk in. In an instant, he shot up from his seat and clutched onto Gi-hun’s shirt, jerking him forward so that their faces were mere inches away.

“Who. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Mr. Seong,” the recruiter spat out the words, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low tone. His mouth contorted to a sneer, his previously carefree demeanor now resembling that of a wild animal. Any concern for his appearance was long forgotten. “Do you think your pity grants you any worth to your already pathetic life?” The anger in his eyes burned like a wildfire, threatening to consume everything in its path. “You may be ashamed of your sins, but there is no use trying to deny who you really are. Why try to act like either of us  are any different from what fate has dictated for us?”

“Because!... I cannot accept that the only way to end the games is by being as immoral as the people who created them!” 

“Unlike you, I have learned to live with the fact that there is no other way to accomplish your goals. If you want to alter society to cater to your beliefs, then the process requires an equal amount of sacrifice. Whether that be your own…or of others.”

“Does that hold true for you?” Gi-hun tilted his head as realization settled in his eyes. “The only way you've managed to maintain that cynical outlook on life is by surrounding yourself only with experiences that would prove your point?” As he spoke, he once again brought the gun upwards, pushing it with such force to the salesman's chin it was sure to hurt. “Tell me, was you being an underling for them ever actually about getting rid of humanity’s waste?…or was that just an excuse for your own shortcomings as a person. Is that why you’re so eager to get put down like the dog you are? Eager to die the same way your father did?”

“My father! And many like him are a weight that hinders society’s ability to progress!” His voice rose to a shout, the veins in his neck becoming visible against his red skin. “That is why the games were created, to get rid of the bottom feeders who live their lives lurking in the shadows of accomplished men!” 

He paused. He looked down at his hands, still tightly holding onto Gi-hun’s shirt, and saw that his knuckles were white from how hard he was clutching. He let go, shouting would get him nowhere, not when he was dealing with someone as ignorant as Gi-hun. I can't let his words get to me. He took a deep breath before he began again, this time in a much calmer voice. “Those who contribute should not be forced to bear the burden of putting up with those who don’t,” his lips quirked up in a small smirk, “do you think your mother wanted to spend her late years providing for you?”

Gi-hun clenched his jaw. “I realize my faults now, and if I could go back to change them I would…but I can't. Which is why I need to shut these games down, because I need to fight for what I can change—what needs to change. Not just dwell on the memories of my past mistakes.”  He paused. Slowly, he loosened the pressure of the gun against the salesman’s chin. He tilted back into the chair, creating space between the two. His chin jutted upward as his facial expression hardened into determination. “And you're going to help me.”

The businessman chuckled as he adjusted his suit and tie, “I have no reason to. Even if I did want to assist in your little heroic endeavor you wouldn't stand a chance.” His gaze turned distant and empty as images of the past flooded his mind, “I have seen firsthand just how controlling ambition is, how far people are willing to go to satisfy their hunger, one man won't make the slightest difference.”

“Then prove your point. Help me get in and I’ll show you that all you need in one person to create a spark,” his voice was steady and unwavering. His confidence akin to that of a sturdy tree, firmly rooted in the ground, and standing tall against the storm that was the man sitting across from him. “After all, you lost. You lost against me and that’s eating away at you, right?” It was Gi-hun’s turn to laugh, the irony of the situation not lost on him. “I know that you more than anyone respect the rules when it comes to games. Now that I’ve decided not to kill you, you still need some form of punishment to tell yourself that you can take a defeat with dignity. You owe me”

The recruiter’s jaw tightened.

Gi-hun continued, “Unless you'd like to admit that you really are a dog. Favoring serving your owners above respecting the outcome of the game. In that case, you would be a hypocrite, and you'd have to admit you're no better than those you claim to hate.”

He blinked, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Gi-hun, for the first time since meeting him he was taking the time to really look at him. For once in his life, the recruiter is seemingly at a loss for words, his quick wits abandoning him. Eventually, he let out a deep sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of all those whose lives he had taken. He didn't believe that humanity's greed would come to an end just because one individual happened to be the exception. But Gi-hun was so disgustingly optimistic. So, he thought he might as well offer the one piece of advice that would allow Gi-hun to stand a chance.

“Fine.”

Gi-hun froze in shock, he hadn’t expected the man to actually be willing to help him.

The salesman interlocked his fingers as leaned forward, his aura turning into that of a successful strategist. “In that case, there’s someone you’ll want to meet. Her name is Kang No-Eul. She is employed as one of the guards for the games but has recently been displeased with the system she works for,” his hands moved randomly as he emphasized the points in his words, almost as if he were discussing a presentation. “She is a North Korean defector, and the only thing she wants is to have her child cross over as well.” He spoke in a light, almost playful tone, “If you were to help her…she would be indebted to you.”

Gi-hun looked at his lap, he didn’t want to emotionally manipulate a mother into helping him by using her child. The more he thought about it, he knew he didn’t have any other choice.

“That way, you could convince her to aid you in pretending to be a guard. You won’t be able to protect the players that way, but you would be on the inside of the inner workings of the games. More power. More control.”

The salesman abruptly stood up, snatching the phone off of the desk and shoving it into Gi-hun’s chest. “Her contact information along with everything else you will need is in there.”

Gi-hun looked up, concern suddenly lacing his features, “What about you?”

The salesman gave an empty smile.

“Does not matter. They are bound to find out what I did soon enough."

@scuzmunkie @onyxmango @riellarielle25 @laurenbenoit70 @azmosposts @moxxxane @milfsarefineashell @okayiamkassandra @giaeunnxz @mullty @outofst1le @recordofragnarokfan2

i am so sorry that the the reader didn't interact with gong yoo but this was kinda necessary for the plot. i promise they will exchange words in the next one. please keep commenting i loved reading your thoughts on the last post.

[moodymisty]

I am here to humbly request an impromptu make-out session in some dark corridor with chairon and a subby reader, please. I need that man so bas one of his kisses would probably make me cum I swear to G- *gets pulled into an inquisition dungeon by a fish hook*

Author's note: Awwww I love Chairon so I'm happy to give the man some love he deserves it. <3

Relationships: Chairon/Gn!Reader(one vague mention of him wanting to fill you)

Warnings: Lewd but not full NSFW, Making out, Size differences

"Cha-Chairon,"

Your arms bunch awkwardly against the massive ceramite chest plate pressed against your front; A firm metal wall blocks your way behind you, leaving you as the soft middle of a pressing of two cold, immovable forces.

"This is the first time we've had a moment to ourselves in weeks,"

Charion's lips ghost over the pulse point of your neck, before brushing up to the sensitive skin just behind your ear. His gauntlets grip your hips tightly but not enough to bruise- the control he has over his strength is nothing less than incredible.

"I know, but your brothers can still walk in here,"

This hall isn't exactly, private. While it is near the quarters where most of the serfs stay, there is still a chance that one of his brothers could come across the scene most innepropriate of an Ultramarine.

If one of your fellow serfs saw, they more than likely would just keep it to themselves. Even if you are Chairon's personal serf and don't have much interaction with them, all the baselines aboard the battle-barges tend to stick together and not rat each other out.

The Ultramarines however- duty and honor tend to come above all else.

The heat of his lips teasing your skin, Charion moves to steal a kiss; His slightly larger mouth covering your own. You helplessly moan into his mouth as his nose presses against your cheek, deepening the kiss and pulling you closer. He knows just how to kiss you, how to make your knees feel weak with the intensity of him. He's neither sloppy nor chaste, the soft noises of your lips meeting is like a whisper as his hand comes to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head for him.

When he pulls away to give you air, you move to follow him as if you didn't need any to begin with. You'd gladly sacrifice it, if it meant another second of him.

It always felt like whenever he kissed you, that you were going to just fall to your knees. For a man who had next to no experience with such a thing, it was so surprising to learn he was such a natural romantic. You've read lewd contraband novels with blacked out covers that contained less romance than him, all the while he can sweep you off your feet with the sweetest of compliments and most thighquaking of kisses.

You know he can smell your arousal, the dampening of your underwear, but he doesn't have the time for it, not with this current mission.

"You are so desperate," He laughs at your parted lips and hooded eyes, and your cheeks grow warmer at the attention. "I promise you we will have time once my duty is concluded, little one."

Their current task of pushing back Tyranids on this planet has proven longer than expected, and what Chairon had originally said was meant to be a day or two at most had turned into a week of him being in his armor nonstop, which had begun to weigh on him; Emotionally foremost.

He wouldn't admit it of course, it's part of his duty. But you have keen enough eyes to tell that he's frustrated with the lack of progress, and is itching for this to be over with.

As well as take a shower.

Suddenly, a crackle in his helmet alerts you that your time is up. The sound of a vox channel tuning in is distinctive, and Chairon knows it as well.

Chairon kisses you again, groaning against your lips as his hand once again moves to cradle the back of your head. Your hands desperately grasp at the top of his chestplate, trying to hold yourself steady as your knees go weak. Your stomach is tied in knots and your body clenches around nothing, desperate for him to fill you.

Now every moment or two he's swallowing more of your moans and whimpers, the sloppy sounds of mixing spit and wet lips smacking against eachother filling the cold air around you; Earlier you were worried about it being too loud, now you couldn't care less. You just want more of him.

His lips pull from yours with a soft pop and a sigh from him follows soon after, as he moves to slip on his helmet. You assume he's answering the vox, judging by his moment of silence.

"I will see you soon. That is more than likely my squad telling me we are now ready for departure."

His metal thumb brushes across your swollen and wet lips, as you look up at him. Your hands come to hold his massive, armored wrist as his hand cradles your jaw, thumb still on your bottom lip.

"Promise?"

Charion chuckles.

"I promise, little one."

[lexluvsmegs]

Bet you could do better…

[Choso Kamo x fem!reader]

Synopsis ౨ৎ - After a recent break up, you search for comfort in the form of your long term best friend Choso. But what happens when he finds out the reason you weren’t all that into your ex is because he couldn’t make you finish?

Warnings ౨ৎ - smut ⭒ oral (f receiving) ⭒ Choso is basically so in love with you ⭒ dry humping ⭒ Choso cums untouched ⭒ a lil bit of fingering

Word count ౨ৎ - 1583

(18+ please if you’re a minor do not interact!)

—————————————————————————

You weren’t upset, per se, however you did find yourself fed up with the lack of manors in which men possess. You’re sat on your sofa, glass of wine in hand and your handsome friend to your left. You had known Choso for quite some time now. He was extremely shy in the earlier stages of your friendship: flushing at any physical contact, stuttering over his words when you asked any questions, his voice ever so breathless during late night calls… But he had grown since then - well, except for the last point - and found himself to be more comfortable and open in your presence. You could even call him your best friend.

So who better to call than said best friend when you’re down in the dumps over your most recent break up. You had always been open with Choso with almost every aspect of your life. Except one. You see, ever since you met Choso you’ve harboured a small crush on the man. Can you really blame yourself? However, you made a promise that you wouldn’t do anything to ruin the beautiful bond created between the two of you. So that was that.

You decided to invite Choso round for a drink. Of course Choso was down, and so here he is now, sat on your sofa nursing a beer in one hand and fiddling the string of his sweatpants with the other. He wasn’t wearing anything extravagant, but the compression shirt he was sporting did little to hide his mouth watering muscles. You’re surprised you didn’t jump his dick when he walked in. You had some serious self restraint.

Choso makes a humming noise, breaking the silence, as he turns to you, asking if you want a refill of your wine. You shake your impure thoughts and gladly accept, scooting closer to his figure feeling the warmth radiate off of him. “So.. how you feeling?” He asks apprehensively. You appreciate his concern but aren’t too sure you want to remember the man who you foolishly went out with. “Fine. Don’t even know why I gave him a chance” you laugh slightly, feeling the ever so familiar tipsy side effects of your drink. Choso stared at you, almost in a trance, as if he was deep in thought. He gives you a look you can’t quite decipher. “Why do you say that? I thought you found him attractive?” You take another sip then turn to face him. “He couldn’t satisfy me” it was blunt. Blunt enough to cause a deep red to coat the tips of Choso’s pierced ears at the sexual implication.

He clears his throat. Was that too much? But before your thoughts can spiral, he takes a quick glance down to your lips before returning his gaze to your own and replies “oh yeah? In what way?” His voice was low and shaky, unsure of the words coming from his mouth. The eye contact you’re both holding is intense, it causes you to subtly rub your legs together for any sort of relief. “Uh, he couldn’t make me finish” you finally choke out after the initial shock of his boldness wore off. The tension was thick. You knew he could feel it too as you saw him subtly shift his free hand to hide his crotch. Oh. You swallowed thickly. Could Choso really see you that way? You can only hope. You drag your sight away from his lap and back to meet his own, already staring at you like you were the only person to ever exist. Choso always looked at you like you were fine art, but this time it felt slightly different.

You don’t know what came over you. You were trying to fill the silence you swear but the alcohol really messed you up when you blurted out “I bet you could make me finish” it was a whisper but still loud enough for Choso to hear every word. Fuck, you’ve definitely taken it too far now. You open your mouth to apologise, but Choso cuts you off with a short“Please.”You didn’t have to wonder what he was begging for for long as he soon follows up with “Please, let me make you finish.” He looks so pathetic pleading like this and it makes you so unbelievably wet. You don’t offer a reply as you place your drink down and grab his face, pulling him down to meet you in a desperate kiss. He follows suit in hastily planting his drink down on the nearest surface and grabs your hips returning the same heat to the kiss. You open your mouth granting him access as he slips his tongue inside, tasting the bitter wine left behind.

You’re getting handsy, throwing a leg over to straddle Choso, hands moving to grip his hair as he lets out an angelic whine. God, you can’t get enough of this man. He starts bucking his hips up as you feel the outline of his cock rutting against your clothed cunt. You soon break apart from the kiss both parties moaning at the stimulation. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long. Y’dont know how many nights I’ve fantasised about this very moment” it comes out rushed, but fuck, that turned you on even more. Choso got off to you. Pride swells in your chest at the realisation and you decide to reward him by licking and sucking your way down his neck, making sure to focus on the one spot that caught his breath.

“P-please take this off, wanna see those pretty tits” who knew Choso had such a dirty mouth. You follow his request, bringing the top above your head and shimmying out of your shorts. He’s in awe, basically drooling at the sight of your plush breasts. You giggle at his reaction. “Now you’ve gotta take stuff off. Only fair” you tease his already flustered self as he scrambles to get fully undressed. He’s beautiful. Sculpted by the gods. His abs are so defined, making you want to ride them, and his pecs are big enough to bite. Now the only thing separating your wet cunt from his throbbing cock is the thin fabric of your panties. Your wetness is seeping through causing a slick sound to form as you grind down on his now bare dick.

Choso fumbles to remove your bra and watches as your tits fall free from the restraint. He wastes no time in taking one of your nipples into his mouth sucking at it as if he expects milk to pour out. This has you moaning and squirming as you drag your nails down his chest causing marks to form. He soon removes his mouth and replaces it with his fingers to keep the stimulation as he pants a “can I eat you out?” the pleasure has you speechless as you can only manage a nod at his request. He lays you down on your back, your limbs splayed lazily over the span of the couch. You’re impatiently awaiting Choso’s next move as he watches over you, he finally removes your panties and stares in awe at the view in front of him. “You are so beautiful” his words make you flush. “J-just hurry up” you reply, slightly embarrassed at your exposure. He lays down, coming face to face with your glistening cunt as he continues to mumble about how lucky he is and how pretty you are. When he finally takes an experimental lick you both let out desperate moans. “God, you taste so good. So sweet f’me” he spreads you open with both hands and takes your clit between his lips, sloppily lapping at your pussy causing you to clamp your legs around his head. Fuck, does he eat pussy like a champ. He’s got you squirming from the intense pleasure, his tongue teasing your entrance before going back towards your clit.

Choso can’t control himself, the sight before him is too hot to handle. He slowly starts to grind his dick against the fabric of your sofa. It’s so messy with the pre-cum spilling from his cock. He’s just as messy though, moaning shamelessly into your pretty, wet cunt with your juices all over his face as he chases his own release. It’s all getting too much as you grab onto Choso’s hair for dear life, practically humping his face, his nose bumping your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, he think he may have just become an addict as nothing sweet could ever compare to the taste of you. Choso’s whines get more desperate and so do yours. “Fuck! Choso, gonna make me cum.” A pornographic moan leaves him at this statement, showing he was the same. Choso suddenly adds a finger, curling it up to hit the spot that made your toes curl. That was your breaking point as your orgasm came crashing down. However, Choso didn’t stop, lapping up your release as he finally comes to his own panting like a needy dog.

You both take some time to calm down from your highs and soon find yourself sat back on Choso’s lap. “Guess I was right then” you smirk, kissing him as a form of gratitude. He looks so cute like this, so fucked out and you’ve not even touched him properly. “Now it’s my turn to return the favour” you say with a giggle as you slowly make your own way down.

It’s gonna be a long night.

—————————————————————————

© lexluvsmegs 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

PLEASE DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work.

Thank You, Beautiful People!

[ladydigianna]

shattered promises || lh44 x reader

|| pairings: lewis hamilton x reader, platonic f1 grid x reader

|| angst

|| from the author: read angst hcs of f1 so i had to write one please remember this is just fictional, a work of my imagination

-fic under the cut-

The family home buzzed with chatter and laughter, the scent of home-cooked meals filling the air as everyone gathered for yet another event—one of many you’d grown used to over the years. Normally, these events made you feel content, like you belonged to something stable, a network of love that kept you grounded. You found comfort in them, and in Lewis, who stood beside you. His hand rested at the small of your back as you mingled with relatives, the familiar warmth of his touch steadying you.

But tonight was different. There was an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t quite place, a gnawing discomfort that tugged at your chest the longer the evening stretched on. Every so often, you caught your sister casting glances at Lewis—glances that felt too intimate, too knowing. At first, you brushed it off. You trusted them both implicitly; after all, your sister was family, and Lewis was the love of your life. The man who whispered sweet promises of forever in your ear on quiet nights, the man who made you feel like you were his world.

But something was wrong. You could feel it in the way Lewis’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes whenever he looked at you, or in the way your sister seemed nervous, her laughter too forced when they interacted. The uneasy feeling festered as the night wore on, growing harder to ignore.

It all came to a head when you excused yourself from a conversation with some cousins, needing a moment to breathe and collect your racing thoughts. As you walked down the hallway, seeking a quiet corner of the house, you heard it. Muffled voices. The soft murmur of your sister’s voice, mixed with Lewis’s low, frantic tones.

You froze, heart hammering in your chest as you stood just outside the door. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but something kept you rooted to the spot. You couldn’t stop yourself.

“Lewis, we can’t do this,” your sister’s voice whispered urgently, panic clear in her tone. “It was a mistake.”

“I know, I know,” Lewis replied, his voice strained. “It was a one-time thing. We were drunk, we weren’t thinking… but we can’t let her find out.”

Her. You.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, and the air seemed to vanish from your lungs. Your mind raced, a sickening realization dawning on you as the blood rushed in your ears. You felt your knees wobble, the floor beneath you seeming to fall away as the betrayal washed over you in suffocating waves.

You pushed the door open, your hands trembling. Their heads snapped toward you, faces drained of color as they registered your presence. Your sister’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Lewis stepped forward, panic and guilt written all over his face.

“Y/N…,” he began, his voice shaking. “Please, let me explain.”

Your throat burned as you tried to speak, but the words got stuck. Tears welled up in your eyes, hot and unstoppable, as you took in the sight of them together. Your sister—the person you had grown up with, confided in, trusted more than anyone else in the world. And Lewis, the man who had sworn he would never hurt you.

“How could you?” you finally choked out, voice breaking. “Both of you? My own sister, and you… Lewis, how could you do this to me?”

Your sister’s face crumpled as she stepped forward, reaching out, her voice trembling. “Y/N, it was a mistake, I swear. We were drunk, it didn’t mean anything. Please—”

“Stop,” you spat, taking a step back, your chest heaving with sobs you could no longer hold back. “Don’t say another word. Don’t try to justify it. You both knew what you were doing. Drunk or not, you knew.” You turned to Lewis, the hurt in your eyes piercing through the fog of shock that clouded your mind. “You promised me,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “You said I was your forever. Was that a lie too?”

Tears filled Lewis’s eyes as he reached out for you, desperation clawing at his every word. “No, it wasn’t. Please, Y/N, it was one mistake. One night. I was drunk—I wasn’t thinking. But I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

But his words fell on deaf ears. Your heart was shattered, and all you could think of was getting away. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them, couldn’t bear to hear any more lies. Without another word, you turned and bolted out of the house, ignoring their frantic calls as you fled into the night, tears blinding your vision.

The cool night air hit you like a slap to the face, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside you. You didn’t know where you were going; all you knew was that you needed to run, to escape the crushing weight of their betrayal. Your legs carried you down the street, feet pounding against the pavement as sobs wracked your body.

“Y/N!” Lewis’s voice rang out behind you, growing closer as he chased after you, his footsteps echoing against the empty street. “Please, don’t leave! Let me explain! I can’t live without you. I love you, please… don’t go.”

But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His words only fueled your pain, making it harder to breathe. “Stay away from me!” you screamed, your voice breaking as your tears blurred everything around you. You were so lost in your grief that you didn’t see the car speeding down the road, didn’t hear the blaring horn until it was too late.

The impact came with a sickening thud, and the world went dark.

Lewis watched in horror as your body crumpled to the ground, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Time seemed to freeze as he stood there, paralyzed with shock.

“No… no, no, no,” he whispered, rushing to your side. His hands trembled as he gathered your limp body into his arms, blood seeping into the pavement beneath you. “Please, no. Please don’t do this. Y/N, wake up. Wake up, please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you. “I wasn’t able to make it right. Let me tell her I love her one last time. I know I never deserved her, but why take her away? Why now?”

His words echoed into the night, but there was no answer. Only the silence of the empty street and the cold, lifeless body of the woman he loved more than anything.

The day of your funeral was dreary, the sky gray and overcast, as if the world itself mourned your loss. The church was packed with family, friends, and the entire F1 grid, but the air was thick with anger and blame. Lewis stood at the back, his face pale and gaunt, hollowed out by grief. His eyes, red and swollen from sleepless nights and endless tears, scanned the crowd, but no one would meet his gaze.

As the service ended, the drivers gathered around your grave, their faces hard with fury. Fernando Alonso was the first to approach him, his hand clenched into a fist.

“This is your fault,” Fernando hissed, his voice low and venomous before his fist connected with Lewis’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. “You killed her.”

Lewis didn’t even fight back. The pain of the punch was nothing compared to the weight of his guilt. He barely reacted as the other drivers closed in, their faces a mix of rage and disgust. Max Verstappen, Sergio Pérez, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc—they all looked at him as though he were the lowest form of life.

“Stay away from her grave,” Oscar Piastri snarled, shoving Lewis back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Lewis stood there, unable to move, unable to defend himself as the drivers took turns spitting their anger at him. He didn’t blame them. He deserved every word, every blow. He had failed you in the worst possible way.

Your friends, Lily Muni He, Alexandra Saint Mleux, Kika Gomes, Flavy Barla, and Kelly Piquet, stood off to the side, their eyes filled with contempt as they hurled insults at him and your sister.

“You’re disgusting,” Kika spat, her eyes blazing with hatred. “How could you do this to her? She loved you.”

“And you,” Lily said, glaring at your sister, her voice trembling with fury. “How could you betray her like that? You’re her sister!”

Your family wasn’t any more forgiving. Your mother, her face streaked with tears, approached Lewis as they lowered your coffin into the ground. She slapped him across the face, her sobs tearing through the quiet.

“Why are you here?” she screamed, her voice hoarse with grief. “Go away! You have no right to be here!”

Your father turned on your sister, his face twisted with rage. “How dare you show your face here?” he growled. “You are no child of mine.”

The weight of their anger and blame was suffocating, but Lewis couldn’t leave. He couldn’t tear himself away from your grave, from the last place he would ever see you. He had lost everything—his love, his future, his world.

In the end, he stood alone, surrounded by the wreckage of his choices. You were gone, and no amount of apologies or tears could bring you back. He had destroyed the one good thing in his life, and now he would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his days.

[warframe1999]

Sooo…

The protoframes, huh?

i wanted to go a bit into what each member of the Hex (yay, new syndicate!!) had to say when you got into proximity of them in the relay. there’s honestly a lot here to set the scene not only for 1999 itself, but introducing each protoframe as well as sort of hinting at their interpersonal relationships, and how they interact with one another! some of my favorite kinda of lore is specifically character development and personality-focused dynamics like this so here!!!! i walked back and forth for an hour for YOU! here is all proximity dialogue for each character in the Höllvania Mall relay:

ARTHUR:

“Question. Could I take Quincy down if he turned on me?”

“We’ll find you, Doctor. That’s a promise.”

“Stop sniffing around my head, Eleanor. If I want to talk, I’ll talk.”

“We need to keep Lettie on her feet. If she goes we all go.”

“Dunno why we even bothered with that cleaning rota.”

“Yeah, we can hold this place.”

“One day, Aoi. No more roadblocks and checkpoints. Just you and me and the bikes, open road for miles, all this bullshit far away. I swear to Sol.”

“Still too open. We need more chokepoints.”

“Bottled water. Like sodding gold dust.”

“Well Amir’s still alive. That’s a win.”

LETICIA:

“I got nothin’ to prove to you, Quincy! Go play your little games, niño.”

“¿Qué onda? The Lady Eleanor ain’t no more freaky than the last time you checked in. ‘Less you know different?”

“Yo, Aoi. Chill, hermana. Do something for yourself, for once. Arthur ain’t going to blow away if you blink.”

“The boss says care for his sister I care for his sister. As long as you still are his sister… and as long as I feel like listening to him.”

“Being loved and being hurt? Yeah, I make no distinction. I knew someone, once, wired the same way. Kept me sane. And what of it? Te crees muy acá ¿no? Get outta my head, Eleanor.”

“Never signed up for this. I’ll be home Mamá. Your little girl doesn’t end here. No te preocupes.”

“Man, I’ve been awake so long that even the spiders in my head have all gone to sleep.”

“Wacha: unless you’re pissing blood right this second, whatever it is can wait.”

“I swear, should lock Aoi and Amir in a cuna. Didn’t sign up for no babysitting gig.”

AOI:

“I don’t wanna go on patrol. I wanna take stuff apart.”

“Nearly time for the On-lyne boys.”

“Metal, metal, metal, what do you want to be?”

“Yep. I can live like this.”

“Arthur needs to keep some fuel in the tank for himself. Goddamn savior complex that man has…”

“I oughta get some headphones. Then I wouldn’t have to hear Quincy work off all that surplus testosterone!”

“If they take Entrati out, who’s going to look after that mutant jaguar of his? Poor thing won’t last five minutes in the wild.”

“Amir! Remember to hydrate!”

“Dear past self: we finally got those super powers we always wanted. Whaddayaknow.”

“GodDAMN. Lettie would you keep your frickin’ rats OUT of my SPACE?”

QUINCY:

“Don’t look up, Doctor.”

“Arthur needs to leave the Major to me, innit. Respect my methods.”

“Don’t mind the waiting. Plenty to be thinking about.”

“You don’t know me. Never see what darkens your rooftops. Inevitable, like the rain. Handing out consolations in a transient connection. Boom. Smoke. And ghost.”

“You wiv me, Eleanor? How deep in you go? See anythin’ you fancy, girl?”

“Amir is a weak, weak boy. Like Aunty said, ‘duppy know who fi frighten.’”

“Thassit… nice and steady.”

“How many man have the opps got? Not enough t’be takin’ me. Never.”

“Oi, Lettie! Grab y’ strap and let’s go. Best a five buys the drinks?”

ELEANOR:

“Don’t expect me to tell you what I’ve seen in Amir’s head. He’s not a beautiful, broken marionette, and he’s nobody’s project. He’s one of us.”

“Quincy thinks he’s going to wake up one night to me chewing the flesh from his ribs. Maybe he’s right.”

“I know you’re there. I can feel you. It’s okay, I won’t tell the others.”

“Aoi? She’s lovely and kind and strong, and… I kind of hate her a little bit. Because it should have been her spreading her happiness into everyone’s heads, and me throwing cars and trucks around.”

“I thought there were going to be two of you! Where’s the other one?”

“Blood. There’s gonna be a fight. Something… bursting. Crossed swords. Arthur!”

“What on earth is a ‘Mara Lohk’?”

“Oh, you’re going to make such a difference this time around.”

“I don’t think Doctor Entrati expected me to survive. I had a lot more than just a cough. But… survive I did. And Lettie has not forgiven me for it.

“Oh. OH. She’s wonderful! Triple-faced goddess! But there’s a shadow on her, isn’t there?”

AMIR:

“A little zap, and… infinite credit! No more ‘insert coin’! Not that we could insert coin. We have no coin. Once we had coin, but now Aoi has smooshed all the coin. Coinnnn.”

“Why did they never make a console port?”

“BAD MOVE, SPACE CAA-DET.”

“But the one thought none of them spoke out loud was - could Lettie reattach a head?”

“Hey, Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Arthur! Dahh, you missed it.”

“Eleanor? Are you there? Can you - can you give my brain a hug please? Thank you.”

“We’re getting a little too excited, let’s step it down, step it down before we get the blue cracklies. In one two out one two.”

“Oi’m Quincy. Oi’m gonna blow out yer kneecaps. Mashup in yer chip shop alright.”

“Ungh! This violent video game is influencing my emotions! Societal norms… eroding! Morality… subsumed! I MUST KILL!”

“This place used to smell so good. Coffee. Cookies. Fresh clean socks. Now it’s just rust, pain, and old socks.”