#i tried not that good but okay just wanted to write

[spatialwave]

➸ ask: "Haii! I love your writing, could I request JayvikxReader please? Maybe something fluffy, like a cozy winter morning with them? Or something smutty, like Reader and Jayce making Viktor feel good? Maybe add some angst, he feels like he is not as attractive or is a third wheel so you two make sure he knows you both love him? 🙈 Thank you!"

– ➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 2.1k ➸ tags: mdni! mild-nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, polyamory, canon-divergent a.k.a. nothing bad ever happens lol. ➸ notes: i tried to combine all the ideas together! not as smutty because i really got invested in the angst… i’m sorry 😭 tysm for sending an ask! <3

The smell of freshly brewed black tea, the scent strong enough to flutter your eyes open as your body stretched across the bed. A mess of blankets, one body beside you, and the winter sun filtering through the half-shut curtains. The daylight on your skin warmed your body, a feeling that you had missed during the past few weeks of dreary weather that left most Piltover citizens huddled away indoors.

“Good morning,” a tired voice rumbled next to you, muscled arms wrapping around your body and tugging you close. You were nestled into Jayce’s chest, face pressed against his skin, and wanting nothing more than to fall right back into sleep and forget about the day and any responsibilities you may have.

“Mmh,” you grunted in response, inhaling a deep breath as you peered up through sleep-riddled eyes. Your eyes locked with Jayce’s, a beautiful colour mixed of golden hues that put the evening sun to shame, “I like this new look,” you hummed quietly, fingers tracing along the edge of the beard he had yet to shave. Even his hair had begun to curl over his ears.

“Yeah?” He grinned, revealing that stupid tooth gap between his two front teeth you loved so much, “I don’t know. I’m starting to feel a bit shaggy.”

The blanket slipped from your body as you sat up in the bed next to him, yawning as your arms outstretched above you and a familiar hand smoothed over your hip, “it looks good, Jayce,” you said through a soft smile, “it’s not like you have anyone to impress these days.”

“Ouch,” he smirked, shifting to sit up against the pillows, hand moving over your thigh as you sat next to him, “suppose you’re right.”

Life had been quiet since Jayce stepped down from the council, focusing full-time on hextech with Viktor, exploring the possibilities and understanding the hexcore. It was meticulous work, but it was work that needed to be done. They both vowed their lives to it.

“Where’s Viktor?” You looked toward the open bedroom door, the smell of tea still wafting through the air. He couldn’t have been gone from bed for too long, likely set up somewhere with scatterings of research papers. Or a good book if he was taking a break.

Jayce sat forward, removing his hand from you so he could push the blankets off and swing his legs off of the bed. His movements slow as his body slowly woke up, “Is it just me, or has he been distant lately?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, shuffling off of the bed and sliding into your slippers, the floorboards cool from the deep drops in temperature outside, “I tried asking him about it yesterday, and he brushed me off.”

“Mhm,” Jayce mumbled passively, stepping beside you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you against his chest, rousing a giggle from you. 

“Stop,” you laughed loudly as he kissed at your neck and ear, the thick hair on his face tickling you.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled lowly into your ear, you could feel his smile on your skin, “we better go say good morning.”

“Already ahead of you,” you rolled your eyes, peeling away from his arms and stepping out into the hallway that lead you right to him. There he sat in the office they’d set up for home, hunched over the desk with a cup of steaming tea and eyes glued to one of the hundreds of research notebooks they’d collected.

“Good morning, love,” you hummed, stepping into the mess of a room and smiling brightly as Viktor glanced over his shoulder at you. His eyes were tired, cheeks rather sunken in – ill. Over the course of the past few months he’d been struggling more, but stubborn when you and Jayce offered help.

“Morning,” he murmured, running a hand over his tired eyes, “thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“I bet you would’ve really liked that, wouldn’t you?” You asked, shaking your head as you stepped toward him and against the back of his chair, eyes scouring over the pages, “Getting work done?” Your hand absently rested on his shoulder, the other brushing through his hair that flipped out at the ends.

Viktor’s body relaxed in your hands, eyes closing, “Not really,” he sighed, and you could feel the defeat that had sunken in him. 

You only then had realized Jayce didn’t follow you in, the distant sound of the shower starting.

“Hey,” you murmured, inhaling a deep breath as you moved to sit up on the desk, your line of sight above Viktor as you looked down at him, “what’s wrong?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, a quick shake of his head following as he adjusted himself on his seat, “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Viktor,” you tilted your head, hand stealing the book away from his hands. His eyes snapped open immediately, trying to reach for the notes, but you pulled it away and set it on the other side of yourself, “I’m not leaving you alone unless you talk with me. Properly this time.”

A heavy sigh came from his lips, looking up at you with the faintest of pouts on his lips, “are you going to ask me why I’ve been distant again? Or is it something else to bother me about this time?”

The words were sharp, but they hadn’t stung. You didn’t take it personally.

“You’re smart enough to know,” you frowned, clenching your jaw, “it’s not fair to Jayce and me.”

“What isn’t fair? That I’m feeling unwell?” Viktor has been angrier than you realized, but you didn’t flinch at his outburst. He grabbed his crutch, using it to pull himself out of his chair as the metal of his leg brace creaked, and you tried to help, but he swatted your hand away, “That I have to stay home everyday working on hextech, while Jayce gets to go to the lab? While you two get to spend all your time together while I stay here?”

“Oh,” your eyes widened, pulling your hands back and staring at him. You didn’t know what to say, and you noticed the embarrassed look in his eyes – shame.

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered.

“Viktor, is that what this is about?” Your heart ached as you slid off of the desk, stepping up to him and resting your hands along the sharp lines of his jaw.

He tried turning his head away, but you had the advantage now and kept him still, looking up at him with those big doe-eyes that worked too well on him and made his stomach twist in the best way possible. He did his best to avoid your gaze, feeling nothing short of pathetic.

“Can we leave it be?” He eventually croaked, “pretend I didn’t say anything, please?”

“I ran a shower for you, Viktor,” Jayce stepped into the room, towel in his hand as he looked between you two. There was a tension in the room that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, “uh, bad time?”

“Thanks,” Viktor mumbled, pulling away from you and limping against his crutch as he took the towel and marched his way out of the office, slowly.

“Do you need a han–”

“No.”

Silence filled the office as Viktor left, leaving the two of you stunned in silence. Jayce turned toward you, a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to put the pieces together.

“We haven’t been good partners,” you groaned, turning to press your face against him, mind reeling for ways to remedy Viktor’s heartache. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt, having far too much privilege in this situation.

“Is he mad I’ve been spending too much time away?” He asked, ripping you from your thoughts, “I could bring some of the lab stuff home, or… or I could take some time off! Right?”

“No,” you let out a breathy laugh at his eagerness, one of the many traits of Jayce Talis that made you fall so madly in love with him, “well, maybe.”

“I can go right now,” he moved to turn.

“Jayce,” you laughed, holding him back from turning your home into the newest hextech laboratory and spending countless hours trudging through the snow with heavy equipment, “Baby steps. He’s been quite tired, lately. Maybe we should get him to bed and see if we can help him someway,” you wore a sly smile on your lips, attempting to push Jayce’s thoughts in the same direction as yours. 

He huffed out a laugh, “Sounds like you’re the worked up one trying to get what you want.”

You playfully hit his arm, “Oh, shut up. Like you aren’t, it’s been weeks. If we’re feeling it, then he is too,” you put your hands on his back, pushing him toward the door, “let me take care of it.”

You found yourself in the bathroom with Viktor, him sitting on a chair you’d slid in so you could help him. Help that he was appreciative of after taking time to de-stress.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes closed as you ran the towel through his hair, “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

Anger wasn’t a feeling that Viktor was so familiar with, it often fleeted right by him. He had always been so ambitious, ready to take on the world with a cup half-full mentality. These past few years had taken its toll on him, leaving him uncertain. 

Worried. 

“It’s okay, love,” you cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead as he tilted his head back on the chair, looking up at you, “you should come rest with us. It’s cold out, we deserve a day in bed.”

You could see a spark flicker in his eyes, the first in days. That’s all you wanted, was to see that spark more often, to show Viktor that he wasn’t being left behind – that you and Jayce couldn’t even imagine a life without loving him like you do. That, itself, would be an injustice.

Once refreshed, you helped him to the bedroom with nothing more than a gentle hand on his back. Mindful about your actions, knowing now that as much as he hid it well, he had pride. A need to just feel normal, once in a while. Like he wasn’t just the sick man people saw him as – the sick man he knew he was.

Jayce was sitting up in bed, legs sprawled over the mess of blankets and a book in his hand. Eyes flickered up from the bed, a small smile on his lips as he sat up.

“There he is. The love of my life,” he beamed, snapping the book shut.

“Eh, that’s too much, Jayce,” Viktor sighed, cringing at the display of affection, and you snorted out a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, sitting up as he watched Viktor move into the bed and lay against the pillows, admiring him, “I can’t appreciate you?”

“You heard him, it’s too much,” you teased, closing the blinds so you could all hide away from the snowy surroundings. Take the time to focus on only each other.

Viktor looked up at Jayce, long lashes fluttering as a pink shade tinted his cheeks. One of his calloused hands gently rubbed along his slender waist where his ribs were visible, tilting down and wasting no time in closing the distance between their lips.

You crawled onto the other side of the bed, sliding against Viktor with ease, lips on his shoulders and hands exploring his body. You hoped you hadn’t been too eager.

“You don’t have to do this,” Viktor’s voice muffled against Jayce’s lips, frail hands pressing to his hardened chest, “I get it.”

“I want to,” Jayce answered earnestly, pulling back from their kiss, “I love you. You know that, right?”

“... I do.”

There was nothing else in the world that you and Jayce wanted more than to make sure that Viktor was loved and cared for, that his heart could be full when his mind and body felt weak. To know that you both unequivocally and unconditionally loved him, more than one should bear.

Viktor’s body was sensitive as you and Jayce ravaged him – tired and weak, but craving everything you two offered him. Eating up the desire like a starved man.

You straddled his hips, rocking atop of him lazily while Jayce pressed heady kisses along his neck, licking at the marks he left behind. Everyone was tired, paces slowing down and bodies spent, but you didn’t have the need to stop. You all made up for lost time, and you and Jayce showed Viktor just how much love you had for him.

“Thank you,” Viktor whimpered.

[ellieputellas]

can you write roommate!alexia smut

caught in the act | a. putellas x reader

— You catch your roommate Alexia touching herself to your photos.

tags: roommate!Alexia, barçaB!reader, smut, masturbation, mentions of fingering, mention of age gap, a bit of degradation and dirty talk, not proofread 🔞 wc: 2k+

Alexia hated having you as a roommate.

It wasn't because of the fact that you had a bad habit of putting off washing the dishes until the next morning; she learned to deal with it and wash them for you whenever it did bother her. It also wasn't because you were always watching Netflix past midnight, at full volume while she tried to get enough sleep for early morning training the next day, fully knowing the walls between your rooms were paper thin. She's learned to fall asleep to the sound of Brooklyn 99 or whatever American TV show you were addicted to at the time. It wasn’t even the fact that she’d have to set her alarm at least 30 minutes ahead of the usual time she’d wake up just so she could force you out of bed so you could both attend your respective training sessions on time.

Instead, she hated how oblivious and clueless you were to how she felt about you.

Just now, there you were in the living room watching a dumb show on Netflix as you simultaneously swiped on Bumble. She hated seeing you looking at other girls, or even getting all dolled up for dates with other girls.

She knew your type. You liked tall, fellow athletes with great style. She wondered why you never noticed her when she fit your type so well. She rolled her eyes at the sight of you fiddling with the dating app and just wanted to return to her room but you already noticed her presence.

"Hey, Alexia." You said calmly. “Come over here.”

She sighed. "Yeah?"

"What do you think about her?" You said as you chewed on the chips you were loudly snacking on. (That was another thing Alexia let you get away with — snacking everywhere and anywhere leading to a mild ant problem.)

Alexia sat beside you on the couch and leaned in to look at your phone. It was someone from Levante’s B team. Alexia frowned. She had to admit. This girl was undeniably hot with her tattoos and fit body but she knew she looked just as good as this player. If not that, she sure as hell was a better player. That should have been some merit to her.

"She’s okay..." It was all she could say to you. She didn’t want to come off as the jealous roommate.

"Really? I kinda think she's smoking hot." You said with a confused look. “She’s the hottest player I’ve played against on the pitch.”

Alexia rolled her eyes and wanted to make a snide comment but let it slide.

“She asked me out after we switched shirts after our match, and I smelled her shirt and it smelled good as fuck.” You shared, making Alexia roll her eyes again. “Plus, she’s taller than I am and you know how that’s my type… but our texts have been stale and boring as fuck.”

Alexia shrugged and tried to focus on the show you were shamelessly ignoring already. “Then just don’t go out with her.”

You sighed. “Yeah… but there is this rookie footballer I matched with on Bumble, she plays for…” You continued to tell Alexia about the other girls you were talking to but she just didn’t give a fuck.

She didn’t wanna know anything about the other girls you were seeing while she’s been into you for so long.

"Anyway, can you help me pick photos from my weekend trip with Emma? She's so great at taking photos that I feel like I have to make two separate posts on instagram just to include all of my hot photos." You said before giving your phone to Alexia. "Just swipe through them and heart all the photos you like."

As soon as she grabbed your phone, she felt her body heat up. The first photo of you was you in front of the pool with your arms up, laughing gleefully. You were wearing the tiniest bikini with a bra top just big enough to cover your nipples and that incredibly skimpy underwear.

All Alexia could think about was pushing them to the side and fucking you hard with her fingers.

Alexia blinked. "You're so...." She couldn't find the words. "Naked?"

You laughed at the older woman’s reaction. "That's all you could say?"

Alexia ignored you, completely fixated by the photos of you. Alexia liked the first photo and proceeded to swipe. The second photo was you with your back turned, exposing your ass. Alexia could feel her mouth salivate as the dirtiest thoughts entered her mind. She kept scrolling, admiring every curve and crevice of your body. She loved the way your boobs spilled over your bra and the way your thong rode up your ass and accentuated your perfect hips. She loved your collarbones but she loved the thought of marking them with her mouth more.

She was practically liking every photo, unable to think objectively of what works on Instagram or whatever. She loved seeing you this exposed.

"You never dress like this usually." Alexia commented, still going back and forth with your photos. She was pretending to be analytical with your photos but her mind was just filled with obscenities.

You huffed. “You only see me in a kit or here at home when I dress like a slob. You don’t know what I dress like.”

Alexia furrowed her eyebrows. “I’ve seen you get dressed up for dates. You’re not usually so…” She shook her head. “Whatever. I never would have imagined you’d like wearing something so tiny.”

Alexia had to swallow as her mouth had been watering at the sight of your photos. You chuckled, oblivious to your roommate's reaction. "Well, you would know that I actually do love tiny swimwear if only you went swimming with us more.”

Alexia took a mental note to say yes to every opportunity to see you in a skimpy bikini. "Still, you never post stuff like this. You only ever post game photos or food photos. This is just out of character for you.” She added on. "You must be posting to impress someone, huh?"

You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes at her. "I feel like I’m just more grown now. Like, grown enough to post more skin.” You explained. “Besides, can’t I post for myself?”

Wish you would post for me, Alexia thought.

You looked over at Alexia who was still looking through your photos. "God, what's taking you so long? Mesmerized by my tits?"

"You're so cocky." It was all Alexia could say as she blushed. She felt like it was so wrong to be thirsting over her younger roommate like this but she couldn’t help it. You were exactly what she wanted.

You chuckled. "I told you. Emma took really good photos of me! I know I look hot in those."

You looked through the photos Alexia liked and realized the only photos of you she didn't like were the ones where you were covered up. You stifled a chuckle. "Okay, I guess I should post these immediately since it would be so selfish of me to deprive the world of these photos any longer."

"So arrogant." Alexia scoffed under her breath but unbeknownst to you, it turned her on. She loved it when you got all confident. It made her want to praise you and degrade you at the same time. "I'm going back to my room to review some things for some brand deal. Text me if you wanna order food or cook for dinner later."

You absentmindedly nodded as you typed up the perfect Instagram caption and chose the perfect thirst-trap song to go with the Instagram post.

Alexia headed back in her room and immediately pulled out her iPad, refreshing her Instagram feed incessantly. "C'mon, c'mon..." She muttered under her breath. "Just post already."

Finally, your post popped up.

Alexia felt like she couldn't breathe as she was finally able to get a better look at them through the bigger screen. She was finally free to zoom in to your perfectly shaped tits without worrying you'd see. She bit her lip.

It was almost a built-in instinct or bodily response to her the way she immediately positioned herself in front of her iPad; she wasted no time. She propped the device on her bed, blasted a song loud enough to mask her noise, swiftly took off her bottoms, and eventually, guided her hands to feel her own slick with her fingers. She was soaked already just from seeing you.

"Fuck," She muttered as she began rubbing herself, looking at the photo of you on her device. She wished she could have a gigantic TV screen just so she could see more of you at a bigger scale. She wanted to be overwhelmed by the sight of you — to be consumed by your beauty.

She rubbed her clit in circles as she kept her eyes glued on the screen. She cursed again. She thought about your tits. She wondered how they'd feel in her hands. She wanted to feel the softness against her rough and imposing hands; she wanted to know if that kind of touch would make you whimper. She wondered what colors your nipples were and how they'd look and feel... and taste. She so badly wanted to push her tongue against them.

Her legs shivered as she imagined taking your breast in her mouth, sucking on it mercilessly as you moaned under her.

In reality, Alexia was alone in the darkness of her room — her tanned skin illuminated by the sole source of light from her device that blasted music to mask her grunts and the obscene sounds of her wetness.

But in her imagination, Alexia was in your room on top of you, sucking on your breasts as she positioned her knee against your core. In her imagination, you loved to beg and whine. So there you were, underneath her, squirming as she sucked on your nipple and used her hands to play with the other one. She just could tell you were the sensitive type and the idea of you almost teary-eyed due to sheer pleasure caused by her made her even wetter.

She opened her eyes once again to catch a glimpse of you in that one photo where you had a serious face as you slightly bent over. She groaned as she caught sight once again of the flesh of your boobs pressing against the fabric of your bikini. "Fucking whore." It escaped her mouth in a grunt.

In her imagination, you were dressed in the same skimpy bikini. She had your bra cups pushed to the side to grant her easy access to lick all over your boobs, leaving the occasional mark whenever she desired.

"Please, Alexia." She could practically hear your voice say it. "Fuck me now."

Alexia plunged her fingers into her cunt, causing her to grunt loudly as she pumped in and out of herself as mercilessly as she would have with you.

She was fixated on the thought of her fingers thrusting so hard in and out of you that your tits jiggled with every thrust. Alexia somehow felt you were the type to moan loudly, grab your own tits, and beg to fuck her deeper.

"Alexia! Fuck me!"

"You want me so bad, huh? You fucking slut?" She groaned under her breath, almost breathless and winded from how rough she was fucking herself. "I'll fuck you so hard, you'd go stupid."

"Alexia, harder! Please!" The imaginary voice in her brain told her. It felt so realistic

"Yeah?" She called out your name, almost in the form of an animalistic grunt. "You fucking want it harder? You a fucking slut for me?"

She increased the speed of her thrusting, causing her to moan loudly in succession. "Fuck," She said, followed by calling out your name. "Tell me who you belong to."

She pumped in and out of herself, causing her to convulse in the building pressure inside her. Her eyes were shut close but the photo of you in your bikini was permanently burned inside her mind.

"I belong to you!" Her imagination called out.

"Say my name then." She groaned.

"Alexia," It sounded so soft and gentle.

"Louder." She growled as she imagined that it was your pussy she was roughly thrusting into. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she felt herself approaching orgasm. “Say it.”

"Alexia?!" It was practically an exclamation. It felt so real that your voice echoed in her ears.

As Alexia opened her eyes, she was met by the sight of you standing at the door of her room with a shocked face. Almost immediately after, Alexia moaned out loud as her orgasm arrived.

It took half a second for her to realize that she wasn't imagining it anymore. You were there, standing and watching her fuck herself while her obnoxiously larged iPad displayed a photo of you.

"Oh shit." She was in trouble.

a/n: not proofread. part 2 anyone? (also thank u for ur requests!)

[paxtito]

pretty girl

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

word count: 3685

warnings: smut 18+. just lesbian sex innit (w receiving)— (all characters are 18+)

summary: wednesday put together a little surprise date night, but, enid being enid, couldn’t keep it a secret

a/n: based on this request: ‘I love your writing and was wondering if you could make another smut fic with Wednesday? Maybe something sorta soft, honestly anything would do. Thanks!’ hope this is what you were looking for and thank you!! spent the day resting which gave me plenty of time to do this because my lil’ anger issues of a dog bit my cheek after wanting my birthday cake 😒

MASTERLIST

The morning air is crisp as you walk across campus with Enid, her usual vibrant energy making up for your grogginess. You clutch your coffee tightly, half-listening as she chatters about the latest gossip in the werewolf pack.

“And then Ajax tried to—are you even listening to me?” she asks, bumping her shoulder into yours playfully.

“Barely,” you admit with a small smile, taking another sip of your coffee. “It’s too early for full Enid mode.”

“Rude,” she pouts dramatically before grinning. “But fine, I’ll get to the point. I’m sleeping over at Yoko’s tonight!”

“Wait, what?” you ask, blinking at her. “Why?”

Enid’s steps falter, and she looks away for a moment, biting her lip. “Oh, uh, no reason!”

You narrow your eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “Enid…”

“It’s nothing!” she insists, waving her hands defensively. “Totally normal, just, uh, bestie stuff. You know, girl talk, vampire-werewolf bonding, that kind of thing.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.”

She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “Fine! But you can’t tell Wednesday I told you, okay? She’d literally kill me. Like, for real this time.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Wednesday. “What does she have to do with this?”

Enid hesitates, looking torn. “Ugh, okay, fine,” she blurts out, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “She’s planning something for you tonight. Like, a date night or something. She told me to clear out so you two could have the dorm to yourselves.”

A warm, unexpected blush creeps up your neck. “Wait… Wednesday planned something? For me?”

Enid nods, her grin widening. “Yup! And let me tell you, she’s been stressing about it all week. She even glared at me less than usual yesterday, so you know it’s serious.”

You can’t help but smile, your heart fluttering at the thought of Wednesday going out of her way to plan something for you. “That’s… actually really sweet.”

“Right? But don’t tell her I told you, okay?” Enid warns, gripping your arm. “She swore me to secrecy and gave me this whole creepy ‘I’ll bury you alive’ speech. Classic Wednesday.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Good. Because I value my life,” Enid says with mock seriousness before breaking into a smile. “But seriously, I’m happy for you guys. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”

Your smile grows as you think about Wednesday, her deadpan expression softening ever so slightly when she’s around you, the way her hand lingers in yours when no one’s looking. “Yeah,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to Enid. “I know.”

As the two of you reach the doors to your next class, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. Whatever Wednesday has planned, you know it’ll be something only she could come up with—quiet, dark, and maybe a little macabre. And you can’t wait to see what she’s put together.

—

The afternoon sun filters through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow across your desk. Your fingers absentmindedly tap against the surface as you try to focus on the teacher's droning voice, but your thoughts keep drifting to Wednesday and the surprise she has planned for you.

Despite your best efforts to keep a straight face, a small, giddy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You sneak a glance at Wednesday from the corner of your eye, trying to gauge her reaction.

To your surprise, she's already staring at you, her dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Your gaze meets hers, and you quickly look away, feeling your cheeks heat up under her intense scrutiny.

"You," she says flatly, her voice cutting through the monotony of the lecture. "Are you feeling alright? You seem... distracted."

You swallow hard, your mind racing for an excuse. "I'm fine," you manage, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. "Just thinking about the assignment."

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Her gaze bores into you, as if she's trying to read your thoughts.

You squirm in your seat, suddenly feeling like a bug under a microscope. You can practically hear Enid's voice in your head, warning you not to blow her cover.

But it's too late. Wednesday's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of panic crossing her face before she schools her features back into a neutral expression.

"Ah," she says slowly, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

You bite your lip, wondering if you should press further. But before you can open your mouth, the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

Wednesday stands abruptly, gathering her books without another word. She brushes past you, her shoulder bumping against yours in a way that feels almost like a dismissal.

You watch her go, your heart sinking. You've blown it, haven't you? Ruined whatever surprise she had planned.

You scramble to your feet, nearly tripping over your chair in your haste. Your backpack slips off the desk, scattering your belongings across the floor.

"Wednesday, wait!" you call out, your voice echoing in the now-empty classroom.

You chase after her, weaving through the throng of students in the hallway. Your heart pounds in your chest as you catch up to her, reaching out to grasp her arm.

Wednesday whirls around, her dark eyes flashing with irritation. "What?" she snaps, her voice sharp.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I... I'm sorry," you manage, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. "I didn't mean to ruin your surprise. I just... I couldn't help myself."

For a moment, Wednesday just stares at you, her expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, her shoulders slump slightly, and she lets out a sigh.

"You're impossible," she mutters, but there's no real heat behind her words.

You blink, taken aback by her sudden shift in demeanor. "I... I know," you say softly, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "But I meant what I said. I'm sorry."

Wednesday is silent for a moment, and then she nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Fine," she says, her tone grudging. "But don't think this means you're off the hook. You owe me one."

You grin, relief washing over you. "I can live with that," you say, your voice light and teasing. "So... are you going to tell me what you have planned, or do I have to guess?"

Wednesday rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Guess," she says simply, before turning and walking away, leaving you to follow in her wake.

—

You stand outside Wednesday's dorm room, your hand hovering over the doorknob. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

Despite your earlier promise to keep quiet, you can't shake the nagging feeling that you've ruined whatever surprise she had planned. You glance down at your uniform, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance.

"Get it together," you mutter to yourself, giving your skirt a quick smoothing. "She's not going to bite."

With a final nod of determination, you raise your hand and knock on the door. The sound echoes through the empty hallway, making you wince.

Silence greets you for a moment, and you wonder if Wednesday is ignoring you. But then, the door swings open, revealing Wednesday standing in the doorway.

She's changed out of her school uniform, now wearing a simple black dress that falls to her knees. Her hair is loose, tumbling down her back in dark waves.

For a moment, you're struck dumb, your brain short-circuiting at the sight of her. She looks... pretty. Soft. Nothing like her usual sharp edges and icy demeanor.

Wednesday arches an eyebrow, her lips twisting into a smirk. "Cat got your tongue?" she asks, her voice dry.

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. "No," you manage, clearing your throat. "I just... I didn't expect you to look so..."

You trail off, not quite sure how to finish that sentence without sounding like a complete fool. Wednesday's smirk widens, and she steps aside, gesturing for you to enter.

"Come in," she says simply, before closing the door behind you with a soft click.

You step into Wednesday's dorm room, your eyes widening as you take in the scene before you. The furniture has been pushed to the sides, creating a large open space in the center of the room. Soft, ambient lighting casts a warm glow over everything, making the room feel intimate and cozy.

In the middle of it all stands Wednesday, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. She's holding out her hand to you, a silent invitation.

"What's all this?" you ask, your voice coming out a little breathless.

Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "I'm going to teach you how to dance," she says simply, her tone matter-of-fact.

You blink, taken aback by her words. "Dance?" you repeat, feeling a little foolish. "Like... ballroom dancing?"

Wednesday nods, her dark eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Yes," she confirms, her voice dry. "Like my parents do. It's a family tradition."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the thought of Wednesday's parents, of the life she leads outside of Nevermore. It's a side of her you've never seen before, and the idea of being a part of it, even in a small way, makes your stomach flutter.

"I... I'd like that," you manage, stepping forward to take her hand.

Wednesday's fingers are cool against yours, her grip firm and steady. She pulls you closer, her body mere inches from yours.

"Good," she says simply, before beginning to guide you through the steps.

You stumble a little at first. But Wednesday is patient, her instructions clear and concise. Slowly, you begin to find your rhythm, moving in tandem with her.

As you dance, you can't help but notice the way Wednesday's eyes never leave yours. There's an intensity there, a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You're doing well," she murmurs, her voice soft. "Just follow my lead."

You move gracefully in Wednesday's arms, your body reacting instinctively to her guidance. The fabric of your black trousers brushes against her dress as you spin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

Wednesday's gaze is intense, her dark eyes boring into yours with an unspoken question. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart races at her proximity.

"You're a natural," she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. "I knew you'd be good at this."

You duck your head, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's easy when I have a good partner," you manage, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Wednesday's lips curve into a small, enigmatic smile. "Is that so?" she asks, her tone teasing.

You nod, your gaze flickering down to her lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. "Definitely," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wednesday hums, her fingers tightening around yours. "Good," she says simply, before pulling you closer, your bodies now just inches apart.

You can feel the heat radiating off her skin, the scent of her perfume filling your nostrils. Your breath hitches, your pulse pounding in your ears.

"Now," Wednesday says, her voice low and husky. "Let's try something a little more... challenging."

She steps back, her hand leaving yours. You feel a momentary pang of loss, your fingers aching to touch her again.

But then Wednesday begins to move, her body swaying to a beat only she can hear. She extends her hand, a silent invitation for you to join her.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest. But then, with a deep breath, you step forward, ready to follow wherever she leads.

You take Wednesday's hand, her fingers cool and strong in your grasp. She pulls you close, your bodies pressing together as she guides you into a new dance.

This one is more sensual, the steps slower and more deliberate. Wednesday's gaze never leaves yours, her dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

You move together, your bodies swaying in perfect sync. The world around you fades away, until there is nothing but the two of you, lost in the rhythm of the dance.

Wednesday's hand slides up your arm, her fingers trailing over your skin. You shiver at the contact, your nerve endings igniting with each touch.

"You're doing well," she murmurs, her lips barely brushing against your ear. "Keep going."

You nod, your body responding to her commands without hesitation. You've never felt so in tune with another person, so utterly in sync.

As the dance comes to an end, Wednesday pulls you into a final, tight embrace. You can feel the heat of her body against yours, the softness of her breasts pressing into your chest.

For a moment, you're frozen, your heart pounding in your ears. You know you should pull away, put some distance between you. But you can't bring yourself to move, not when Wednesday feels so perfect in your arms.

Slowly, tentatively, you raise your hand, your fingers brushing against the silky strands of her hair. Wednesday's eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her tongue. "I..."

Your heart races as Wednesday's breathy voice caresses your name. In this moment, suspended in time, the world seems to fall away, leaving only the two of you, hearts beating as one.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, you lean in closer, your forehead resting against hers. Your hands slide up to cup her face, thumbs gently stroking her high cheekbones.

Wednesday's eyes flutter open, dark and filled with a vulnerability you've never seen before. Her hands come up to rest on your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

"I..." she starts, her voice barely a whisper. "I want..."

But she trails off, unable to finish the thought. Instead, she closes the remaining distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath away.

You melt into the kiss, your body molding against hers like it was made to fit. Wednesday's lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a desperate hunger.

Your hands slide into her hair, tangling in the silky strands as you deepen the kiss. Wednesday makes a soft noise in the back of her throat, a sound of pure need.

Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the taste and feel of her. The rest of the world fades away, leaving only this moment, this connection.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. Wednesday rests her forehead against yours, her hands still gripping your waist tightly.

"That was..." she starts, her voice rough with emotion.

"Perfect," you finish for her, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Wednesday hums in agreement, nuzzling her nose against yours. "I've wanted to do that for a while now," she admits, her tone shy.

You chuckle softly, your fingers carding through her hair. "I'm glad you did," you murmur, bringing your lips to hers once more.

As you kiss, you know that this is just the beginning. The start of something new, something beautiful and terrifying and utterly intoxicating.

Wednesday's hands slide down to your hips, her fingers gripping your waistband tightly. With a sudden tug, she pulls you flush against her, your body pressing into hers.

You gasp at the contact, your hands flying up to grip her shoulders for balance. Wednesday takes advantage of your momentary distraction, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

With a soft push, she sends you tumbling onto the mattress, her body following yours. You land with a bounce, your breath knocked from your lungs as Wednesday settles on top of you, her weight pinning you in place.

"Wednesday," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you..."

But your question is cut off as Wednesday captures your lips in another searing kiss. Her tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch of you with a desperate hunger.

You moan into the kiss, your hands sliding down to grip her hips, urging her closer. Wednesday grinds against you, the heat of her core seeping through the thin layers of fabric separating you.

Wednesday breaks the kiss, her dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that steals your breath. She sits up, straddling your hips, her hands resting on your chest.

"I want you," she whispers, her voice low and husky. "But we don't have to..."

You reach up, cupping her face in your hands. "I want this," you assure her, your thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "I want you."

Wednesday nods, her gaze never leaving yours. Slowly, she leans down, pressing her lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

Your hands slide down her back, settling on her hips. You guide her movements, encouraging her to grind against you. The friction is delicious, the heat building between your legs.

Wednesday gasps into your mouth, her hips moving faster, more urgently. You can feel her growing wetter, her arousal soaking through your clothes.

You break the kiss, panting heavily. "Let me," you plead, your voice rough with desire.

Wednesday nods, shifting off of you. You sit up, your fingers trembling slightly as you reach for the hem of her dress. With a swift movement, you pull it over her head, tossing it aside.

She sits before you, clad only in a black lace bra and matching panties. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her pale skin flawless in the dim light.

You lean forward, pressing reverent kisses along her collarbone, down the swell of her breasts. Wednesday shivers, her fingers tangling in your hair.

Your hands slide down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her panties. With a gentle tug, you pull them down her legs, leaving her bare before you.

You take a moment to drink in the sight of her, your gaze roaming over her body appreciatively. Wednesday flushes under your attention, her thighs pressing together shyly.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper, your voice filled with awe.

Wednesday shakes her head, her dark hair falling in waves around her face. "I'm not..." she starts, but you silence her with a kiss.

Switching positions, you lay Wednesday down on the bed, your body covering hers. You capture her lips in a searing kiss, your tongue delving into her mouth, exploring every inch of her.

Wednesday moans softly into the kiss, her hips arching up to meet yours. Your hands slide down her sides, cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra.

You break the kiss, your lips trailing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone. Wednesday gasps, her fingers digging into your back, urging you on.

Your hand slides down her stomach, teasing the edge of her panties. Wednesday's breath hitches, her thighs parting slightly in invitation.

You dip your fingers beneath the fabric, finding her slick and ready for you. Wednesday whimpers, her hips bucking into your touch.

Your fingers glide through Wednesday's slick folds, finding her sensitive bud. She gasps, her hips jerking at the sudden contact.

"Y/N," she breathes, your name a prayer on her lips.

You circle her clit with teasing strokes, reveling in the way her body responds to your touch. Wednesday's thighs tremble, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her.

Slowly, you slide a finger inside her, groaning at the way her walls clench around you. Wednesday is so hot, so tight, so perfect.

You add a second finger, pumping them in and out of her slick heat. Wednesday's head thrashes on the pillow, her mouth falling open in a silent cry of pleasure.

Your thumb finds her clit again, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive nub. Wednesday's hips buck wildly, her body chasing the release you're so eager to give her.

"Please," she whimpers, her voice barely audible. "I need..."

But she doesn't finish the thought, her body arching off the bed as you curl your fingers just right. You can feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around your digits.

With a final twist of your wrist, Wednesday comes undone, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. You hold her through it, whispering words of praise and encouragement.

As she comes down from her high, you press soft kisses to her sweat-dampened skin, murmuring your love and devotion. Wednesday clings to you, her body still trembling with aftershocks.

In this moment, the rest of the world fades away. There is only the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of love and passion.

—

You wake to the sound of the door opening, your eyes fluttering open to find Wednesday still asleep beside you. For a moment, you simply lie there, taking in the sight of her.

Her dark hair is fanned out across the pillow, her face relaxed in sleep. Your gaze travels down her body, tracing the curves and dips you explored so thoroughly the night before.

The door swings open fully, revealing a surprised Enid standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene before her - you and Wednesday, tangled together in the afterglow.

"Oh," she breathes, her cheeks flushing pink. "I... I didn't know you two were..."

You sit up quickly, pulling the covers up to your chin. Wednesday stirs, her eyes blinking open in confusion.

"Enid?" she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

Enid clears her throat, averting her gaze. "Sorry," she says, backing out of the room. "I'll just... I'll leave you two alone."

The door clicks shut behind her, leaving you and Wednesday in a tense silence. You glance at her, unsure of what to say.

But Wednesday just sighs, turning to face you. "Well," she says, her tone dry. "That's one way to start the day."

[sun-kissy]

No worries if you don’t feel comfortable writing this, but Remus x reader who’s having an anxiety attack? I read the prompt below that made me think of this, and just want something just as sad to match. As much of a fluffy ending as you can pls :(

"Leave me alone!" She screamed, pushing away the only person that seemed to care about her.

thank you for your request, sweetheart!!

breathe | r.l.

tw: anxiety attack

remus lupin x reader

Remus wasn’t expecting to find you in a foetal position on your bedroom floor upon coming in. He had knocked on your front door a couple times, and when you hadn’t opened it, assumed you were using the bathroom and let himself in.

You had your legs folded up to your chest, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. He immediately knew there was a cause for concern, what with how your loud breaths got shallower as the seconds passed. Shaking like a leaf may have been a cliché phrase; but there was nothing else he could think of to describe you, frail and torn and trembling all over.

In your defence, you had no idea an anxiety attack was coming for you. One second you were doing the laundry, and the next it felt like someone had wrapped their hands around your neck and squeezed.

You had immediately staggered into your bedroom, which was a mistake — the walls of the small room seemed to close in on you, pressing and pushing until they reduced you to the tiny thing laying pathetically on your floor.

The sound of your heartbeat was deafening, all around you like the four walls of a cage. Panic was clogging up your throat, condensing into bile on the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t think. There were strategies that you had learnt, ways to calm yourself down. But your mind was shrouded in fear in the form of fog, dread in the shape of darkness. There was no escaping this.

“Hey,” a gentle voice says. An arm wraps around your shoulders, carefully pulling you up into a sitting position. Warm, calloused hands take your own. Remus.

It’s hard to hear him over the noise of your thrumming heartbeat. You lick your lips, over and over again. It doesn’t help; your voice is still stuck at the bottom of your throat. “I — I can’t —“

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he continues to rub the back of your palm, using his other hand to brush off the beads of sweat adorning your forehead. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You tried to locate Remus in the blurry pixels dotting your vision, but the best you could do was his silhouette.

“I can’t — I can’t find you,” you gasp desperately, breaths getting heavier.

“That’s okay, dove. I’ll find you.”

He brings your hand to his chest, splaying out his palm over yours. “We’ve got to slow down your breathing, okay? Can you do this with me?”

You feel his chest expand, before it settles back in its original position. Up, then down again. You don’t think you can do it, but for Remus, you’ll give it a shot.

Up, then down. Your heart squeezes when you try to breathe; like it’s nothing but a sponge. You open your mouth to tell Remus that, but the sponge in your chest makes its way to your throat. All you can do is shake your head pitifully.

Remus gives you a reassuring smile, his kindness endless. “That’s alright, you’re doing really well. Let’s try something easier, yeah? Help me out here. Find something… red, in this room.”

You turn your head, eyes darting around aimlessly. Your gaze locks on a blurry shape in the open dresser, which revealed itself to be a scarf when you squinted. You raise your hand, pointing at it with a trembling finger.

“Good job, dove.” A swift kiss to your forehead. “What about something blue?”

Blue. You swivel your head around. One more time, and you still can’t spot a thing. There’s nothing blue here, and you’re going to panic, and —

Blue. Your favourite colour. You immediately look down, fingers clenching around the crystal blue locket on your neck. The present Remus had given you for your sixteenth birthday.

“This — this locket?” you croak.

“You got it,” he murmurs reassuringly, giving your wrist a squeeze. “Last one, okay? Green.”

It was getting easier. You blink and your head seems a little lighter. “The plants, by the windowsill.”

“Well done, sweetheart.” He gives you a congratulatory peck on the top of your head, fingers sliding down to intertwine with yours. “Feeling better?”

You nod an affirmative, letting out a shaky breath as the tension seeps out. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he smiles softly. “Do you know what triggered it?”

You sigh, leaning back till your head hits the wall. Remus is quick to slot his hand in between, softening the blow as he slowly drops his arm. “I don’t know. I guess it was just the lack of sleep.”

“You need to take better care of yourself, dove. You’ve been overworking,” he sighs, moving his hand to rub circles on your knee.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for, lovely girl.” He starts to smile when you clamber forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “Just try to listen to your body more, yeah? And to me, of course.”

“Of course,” you mutter sarcastically, your lips curving upward. He grins, grabbing your hips and tugging until you’re straddling him. “That’s right. Now, how about you go take a warm bath and I’ll order us some pizza?”

“But I need to finish my —“

“Nope. What did I just tell you?”

You sigh loudly. “I gotta listen to you,” you grumble.

“Exactly. That’s my good girl,” Remus grins, fingers slipping under your T-shirt to rub the skin on your hips lovingly.

He helps you up and to the bathroom. He orders pizza, puts on your favourite movie, and smothers you with love. Remus was right; you were going to be okay.

[mattscoquette]

how do you think matt would react if he found his girl sh-ing? (u should make a one shot on this <3) would chris react the same as matt?

matt finding out his girl is sh

. detailed mentions of self harm and anxiety !! pls read with caution <3 this is also in no way romanticizing sh ! remember u are loved :)

you shakily pried open the back of your phone case, carefully removing the small blade you’d taken from your shower razor. standing over the sink as water poured from faucet, you slid up the sleeves of your sweater, an array of both fresh and healed scars adorning your skin. you felt tears prick your eyes as you began to slide the blade against your skin, slashing new cuts into your wrists.

as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t stop yourself from hurting yourself. it had become your way of coping with your anxiety, and your solution to every situation that arose. and matt, poor matt, was so observant in your change of behavior. the way you only wore long sleeves, how you seemed to panic whenever he held your hand. you two stopped having sex months ago. and you noticed how it affected your relationship. you noticed how everything that you did affected your relationship. and that only made you want to hurt yourself even more.

matt deserved a better girlfriend. or so you thought. in your head, you were ruining matt’s life. you were barely there anymore, feeling like you were a ghost watching your life from the outside. and you loved matt so much, so much that it hurt, and all you wanted was for him to be happy. but to you, if you weren’t happy, matt couldn’t be happy.

lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the mess of blood you were making in the sink, and matt knocking on the door softly. “baby are you good? i’m home with food.”

you cursed underneath your breath, hurriedly turning off the sink and holding a fist over your cuts, trying to stop the flow of blood. i’m okay was all you could unconvincingly rasp out.

“are you sure? can i come in?” matt called out, his voice as sweet and caring as ever. because why wouldn’t it be. you were matt’s entire world, the only thing that mattered to him was you.

“i’ll be right out, i’m okay.” you spoke, trying your best to stop your voice from shaking. you looked down at your cloth covered wrists, dark stains seeping through the sleeves where your hand was clamped around them.

but, matt knew you. he knew something was wrong, and he knew you weren’t okay. so, matt being matt, pushed his thumb against the lock, twisting it as it unlocked. slowly, he turned the doorknob, opening the bathroom door where he saw you standing inside, a panicked expression on your face as you held a hand over your wrists.

matt’s eyes scanned around the bathroom, his face falling as he realized what you were doing. the blade on the counter, the blood in the sink, the way you were drawing your arms into your body. and suddenly, the last few months made sense. "sweetheart.” he couldn’t even manage a whisper.

matt swiftly made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your body as he held you tight. you couldn’t stop the sobs that racked your body, crying hard into matt’s chest while he just cradled you. he kissed the side of your head repeatedly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pulled you both down onto the tiled floor, letting you climb up into his lap.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffled, burying your face into his shoulder, “i’m sorry i’m so messy.”

matt pulled away, his expression as if you had just personally offended him. his ran a thumb across your tear stricken cheek, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “don’t be sorry, i’m not upset.”

he continued to comfort you, rocking you back and forth in his arms on the bathroom floor.

“i’m always gonna be here for you.” he mumbled into your hair, feeling his own eyes begin to well with tears. “no matter what.”

“always?”

“always.”

© mattscoquette

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i kinda wanna start trying to write more angsty stuff like this, ty for this request ! can’t lie i lowk cried writing this but i feel like it lowk helped me in a way bc i used to struggle w this. anyway i hope u guys like <3 and if anyone needs someone to talk to im here !!

[mossyscavern]

Not spies, just a bit incompetent.

_________________________

“Now, are you spies? Or just incompetent! Lackeys!”

The winged bot asked, leaning forward with a harsh yell as red optics flared. “Whoa, we’re not spies.” Orion ushered, servos up. “But he is incompetent.” Elita adds.

“Scanning electrical impulses: he speaks, the truth.” The bot with the face guard and yellow visor states after scanning-. ‘Is that bee?! Why’s that mech holding bee?!’ Orion thought, worry coursing through him.

“That just means he believes himself, like any spy would.” He states, leaning against the other armrest of the throne. “Hmh! M! M! Mh!” Bee tries to say, kicking his peds excitedly, but thanks to the treat he’s eating, he can’t talk.

Orion’s glad that he’s alright.. but he still can’t help but worry about the young sparkling. “Uhm.. Why is he holding him..? Is that an energon treat?” Elita-1 asks, pointing and threatening.

And from the looks of it, D really doesn’t like how they’re holding bee, judging by the obvious death stare. “He wouldn’t stop talking.” The one eyed mech explains. “Even when he was unconscious?” She wondered, optic ridge raise-.

“WE DIDN’T KNOCK OUT A SPARKLING!!!” He shouts stomping his ped, sounding offended by her question.

“Enough. Two options for you, 1: we slowly dismantle each of you, one bolt and screw at a time! And really make sure you feel it for potential kidnapping.” He says, listing off one of the two options with a scowl.

“Or 2: in exchange for a quick death, you give us intel on the energon trains, access to the mines or anything else that could hurt your boss, Sentinel Prime.” He threatens, darkening his optics more towards the three.

D-16 darkens his optics, not entirely trusting any of them.. especially with the sparkling in their arms. “Who exactly are you?” Elita asks.

Bee ate the energon treat more quickly now, trying to finish it in 20 seconds. “Wait!! Not too quickly!” The one eyed mech warned, too little too late by the time bee finished the cube.

“The cybertronian! *hic* high *hic* guard!” Bee says, hiccuping as he spoke. “*sighs* I told him not to eat it quickly.” The mech sighs, shaking his hexagonal helm fondly, handing an energon drink to the sparkling.

“Prestigious *hic* defenders of *hic* Iacon. *hic* prest-*hic*-igious?” Bee asks, hiccuping each word, then drank the energon and thanked them.

“Right. I read all about you in the archives. You were the most legendary warriors in all of Cybertron.” Orion exclaims, pointedly before remembering a very important detail about them. ‘They’ll always protect our young.’ He thought.

“Look, look! There’s starscream! Shockwave! The bot carrying me is Soundwave!” he exclaims, pointing to each main three before raising his hand.

“Hey, are all of you named wave? There’s a lot of waves” bee asked, getting an answer from shockwave’s shaking head.

“Silence!” Starscream shouts. “The young spark is correct.” The seeker states, giving bee a smile when he celebrated. “We were once the High Guard,” he starts, leaning back on the throne.

“We witnessed Sentinel’s Betrayal, saw the Primes fall. Ever since then, we’ve been fighting from the shadows to sabotage Sentinel.”

“That’s great! We’re also-.” Orion was about to stand before a multitude of weapons are levelled to his face. “Woah, okay! We’re good, relax, we’re all friends here. I just wanted to say that we’re all allies here.”

“Hah! Yeah right, like we’d believe the bots that probably kidnap the sparkling.” Starscream stood up, screaming in rage at the last bit, making everybot quiet… all but a small voice broke the silence.

“… what?”

_________________________

I’m… making this one a 2 parter.

1: I like to make these things short and sweet so it’s not too overwhelming. 2: … I can’t fit in some of moments from the movie and pair it with the baby au.. like that fight scene between D-16 and starscream.

I got permission to write this from @yuukirita … and here’s their art and writing for the inspiration -> high guard and the baby please go check it out.

[dissapointu]

Hey, i love your work and i think that your writing is beautiful

Can i request the ladies of Arcane with a imortal fem s/o? Like, she's about their age and cannot die from things that aren't time itself, their s/o can only die when her time comes, until then, no matter how much anyone tries to kill her, she will simply regenerate

Sorry for the long text and english errors, it's not my native linguage. Also, thank you for reading it :)

Thank you so much for your kind words! Your English is amazing, and I’m honored to bring your idea to life.

Jinx

Jinx would think your immortality is the coolest thing EVER.

• When she finds out, her immediate reaction is pure excitement. “Wait, so you’re, like, INVINCIBLE? That’s AWESOME!”

• She’d probably test your ability at first—nothing too serious, but you’d definitely have to talk her out of throwing you into something reckless. “What? You’d heal, right? No big deal!”

• Over time, though, it would hit her: if you’re immortal, she’s the fragile one in the relationship. It’s a bittersweet realization for her.

• “Promise me something, okay? That you’ll remember me… even when I’m gone.” She’d cope with humor most of the time but get quietly sentimental when she thinks too hard about it.

• Jinx would also LOVE showing off your ability. “This is my girlfriend—she’s totally unkillable. Jealous much?”

Vi

Vi would be lowkey awestruck by your immortality, but she wouldn’t show it at first.

• When she first sees you regenerate from a life-threatening wound, she’d be wide-eyed for a second before shaking it off like, “Okay, that’s a neat trick. Care to explain?”

• Once she understands the full extent of your ability, she’d be deeply relieved. “That’s one less thing I have to worry about… but damn, does it still freak me out.”

• She’d be protective of you, even though you don’t technically need it. “Immortal or not, nobody gets to hurt you on my watch.”

• The thought of growing old while you stay the same might weigh on her sometimes, but she’d push those feelings aside to make the most of the time she has with you.

• “Guess that just means I have to make every day count, huh? You’ll remember me when I’m gone.”

Sevika

Sevika would be skeptical at first but ultimately find your immortality fascinating—and useful.

• When she sees you regenerate after a near-fatal injury, she’d be stunned for a moment before muttering, “Well, that’s one hell of an advantage.”

• She wouldn’t coddle you, knowing you can take care of yourself, but she’d still have your back in fights. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I’m letting anyone get a hit in.”

• Your ability would earn her respect, especially in the rough-and-tumble world of Zaun. “You’re tougher than anyone I know. Guess that’s why we work.”

• She might joke about your immortality, saying stuff like, “Good thing you’re stuck with me—nobody else could keep up with you for that long.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would be both amazed and worried about your immortality.

• When you reveal your ability, she’d be quiet for a moment, processing what it means. “So… no matter what happens, you’ll always come back? That’s incredible, but… also terrifying.”

• She’d admire your strength but still feel protective. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt.”

• Your immortality would make her think deeply about her own mortality, but she’d value the time you spend together even more. “It doesn’t matter how long we have. Every moment with you is worth it.”

• Caitlyn would support you in every way, helping you navigate the emotional weight of your immortality. “You’ve seen so much, but I hope I can give you memories worth holding onto.”

Mel Medarda

Mel would see your immortality as both a gift and a burden.

• When she learns about your ability, she’d be intrigued and ask thoughtful questions. “How long have you carried this? How does it feel, knowing time is your only limit?”

• She’d admire your resilience and strength, seeing you as a kindred spirit in navigating a world that often demands too much.

• Mel would be deeply aware of her own mortality, but she wouldn’t let it hold her back. “If I only have a fraction of your time, I’ll make it unforgettable.”

• She’d also be fascinated by the strategic advantages of your ability, often thinking about how you could use it to shape the world. “With your gift and my vision, we could change everything.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would be incredibly impressed by your immortality and see it as a rare, invaluable strength.

• When you reveal your ability, she’d smile knowingly. “I had a feeling there was more to you than met the eye.”

• She’d appreciate your ability from a pragmatic perspective, understanding how it could turn the tide in dangerous situations. “Immortality is a weapon. Wield it wisely.”

• Ambessa would admire your determination and experience, often asking for your insights. “Someone who has seen so much must have a wealth of wisdom. Share it with me.”

• She’d be confident in your ability to protect yourself but still fiercely protective of you. “Immortal or not, you’re still mine to protect.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would be in awe of your immortality but also concerned for how it affects you emotionally.

• When she finds out, she’d be both amazed and worried. “You can survive anything? That’s incredible… but it must be so hard, too.”

• She’d do her best to support you emotionally, always checking in to make sure you’re okay. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here for as long as I can be.”

• Maddie would focus on creating meaningful, happy memories with you, knowing that her time with you is finite. “Every moment we share is precious to me.”

• She’d admire your ability to keep going despite everything you’ve experienced, often telling you, “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Lest

Lest would have a unique perspective on your immortality.

• When she finds out, she’d tilt her head curiously and ask, “Does it hurt, coming back? Or is it like waking up from a long nap?”

• She’d be fascinated by your ability and how it shapes your perspective on life, often asking you questions about your experiences.

• Lest would be quietly protective, always by your side even if you don’t technically need her help. “Just because you can’t die doesn’t mean you should face everything alone.”

• She’d enjoy your company immensely, seeing your immortality as an opportunity to build an enduring bond. “If I stay by your side, will you tell me your stories? I want to be part of them.”

TL;DR: Each character would be amazed by your immortality, but their reactions would be shaped by their personalities. Whether it’s Jinx hyping you up, Caitlyn worrying about you, or Mel pondering how to use your gift to shape the world, they’d all admire your strength and resilience while cherishing the time they have with you. You might be immortal, but their love and devotion would still feel infinite.

[tyunized]

PDA WITH TXT~ (thoughts)

PDA - Public Display of Affection.

fem!reader

Warnings :: fluff, kissing, hugging, PDA lol, holding hands, fingering, teasing, heartwarming, needy!beomgyu perv!beomgyu (minors dni).

note :: I was giggling so much while writing this, Especially at beomgyus! Let me know if I have missed any warnings or let me know whos part did you giggle at as well hehe! 1

my rules

🌱 :: Soobin.

Soobin is unapologetically affectionate, and he doesn’t care who’s watching. Whether it’s holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, or pulling you in for a kiss in the middle of a crowded street, he’s always showing his love for you. The side eyes and whispered comments from strangers? He doesn’t care. When someone yells, “Get a room!” Soobin just laughs, his carefree chuckle echoing loud enough for everyone to hear. Sometimes, he’ll even throw in a playful response, like, “Nah, we’re good right here!” before turning back to you with a grin.

🌱 :: Yeonjun.

You have to hold Yeonjun’s hands at all times, If not he will be afraid of losing you because he walks very fast due to his long ass legs LOL, so he doesn’t want to leave you behind. He tries, he really does, to slow his pace and match yours, glancing down every now and then to check if you’re keeping up. But he walks so fast that even his “slow” feels like a brisk walk to you. You can’t help but laugh when it starts feeling like he’s gently pulling you along.

🌱 :: Beomgyu. (nsfw)

Beomgyu thrives on PDA―not just because he loves you, but because he loves stirring up chaos. He’ll kiss you in public, and if he catches someone rolling their eyes, he’ll kiss you even more, grinning against your lips while you remain blissfully unaware of his reasoning. You don’t question it, though; you’re too busy enjoying his affection. Of course, beomgyu doesn’t stop there―he loves messing with you too. At dinner with your friends, his hand will wander beneath the table, slipping to your inner thigh, unbuttoning your pants, and teasing you in ways where it's nearly impossible to keep a straight face. He lives for the way you squirm, pretending to be annoyed while secretly loving the way his cold fingers toy with your sensitive areas. Between his “games” and your friends asking casual questions, you feel like you’re about to crash out.

🌱 :: Taehyun. (suggestive)

Taehyun doesn't mind PDA at all, he’ll hold your hand, steal a kiss, or even wrap an arm around you in public without hesitation. When you get a little too playful or lean in too close, you can see his frustration, trying to control himself because in public he knows that he has limitations. It’s humorous to you when you see this type of look on his face, but once you guys are home and in private, he has no rules, no restrictions, and no one to stop him from taking things as far as he wants. And judging by the way he pulls you closer, smirking like he's been waiting all day, you know he's ready to make up for every second he has to restrain himself.

🌱 :: Hueningkai.

This man loves to make you sit on his lap especially when seating is scarce, you sometimes hesitate out of shyness but he always insists. And when you actually give in you can feel the occasional glances people give to you both and it makes you very nervous. Hueningkai will put both his hands on your waist and tell you that it's okay and not to worry about people’s facial expressions. He also likes to rest his chin gently on your shoulder to calm you down but it makes you even more flustered than you already were lol. Feeling his breathing on your neck make you panic on the inside.

[valyrfia]

I think Max will either retire or move to Ferrari in 2027

OUR LESBIAN FERRARI PROPHET SAYS SO? DROP THE TIMELINE

Okay okay anon walk with me.

So I think Lewis is Ready for Retirement. I think he would've retired at Mercedes, eighth championship be damned, if Mercedes had just given him an ambassador contract so he could've used his position and his brand for the causes he wants to dedicate the second half of his life to. As is, Mercedes refused to give him that contract (which, I could go on for AGES about how blindly ridiculous that is and is a clear marker of how far this sport still has to go re: racism)–but Ferrari did.

However, to be a Ferrari ambassador, a 2+1 year race contract accompanies it. Obviously this is a good move for Lewis anyway since it's looking like Ferrari will be one of the quickest teams moving into 2025 and Lewis must have some information on how they might nail the regulation change come 2026, but, and this may be controversial. Charles Leclerc is an established driver at Ferrari, the absolute darling of the tifosi (I mean, he's the second most important person in Italy after the literal pope), and most importantly he's a driver that has not yet hit his ceiling. Now, this is where I tread carefully, but I believe that Lewis, in comparison, is past his prime. Sure, he pulled off an incredible drive at Silverstone this year but he has not been able to match George–and George I believe is currently at a lower level than Charles. I have a sneaking suspicion that Charles is, well, going to walk all over Lewis next year. And if Lewis truly has only moved for the sake of the ambassador contract, he'll break the racing contract after 2 years.

Okay but Ollie is supposedly lined up for that Ferrari seat, and Ferrari NEED an order of succession, so who says that Max will take it?

Red Bull Racing is falling apart at the seams (sorry RB fans). Christian Horner is a power-hungry [REDACTED] who will bring the whole team down with him. The Thai side have never really cared about the Formula 1 team (and I know from Sources, backed Christian Horner in this whole fiasco which is why CH wasn't fired). Newey is gone, I'm sure other key figures will get pinched in the next couple of years, Max has kept everything together for pure skill this past year but the writing is on the wall. I'm going to hold everyone's hands when I say this, but I don't think Red Bull are winning either championships next year....

However, for as much as Max loves to talk about it, I don't think he's actually ready for retirement. I also don't think he'll be the type of guy to retire on a low. Max's contract is until 2028, but he can break it if he drops to P3 in the championship, which, I think there's a non-zero chance of happening in 2026 especially under new regulations/brand new engines.

So Ferrari are likely going to nail the new regs, Max doesn't want to retire on a low, and it looks like Ferrari shopping for a driver and Max wanting to leave Red Bull will line up within roughly the same window.

There's also a couple of sentimental reasons I want to point to. Max (as much as he tries to deny it) is a victim of the old Red Bull Golden Boy curse of being a Ferrari fan. I mean, he literally grew up in the Schumacher era, with his father being friends with Schumacher. He's stated multiple times how if he can't hear the Dutch anthem on the podium he'd like to hear the Italian one. I suspect deep down, he's much more of a tifoso than any of us realise.

There's also the Charles Leclerc of it all. Now really walk with me here because this is tenuous and yes is coming from a known Lestappie (tomato tomato) but isn't really a Lestappen argument.

Charles throughout his entire career has been obsessed with measuring himself up against those who are considered the "best of the best" and showing that he can beat them. He ate Seb alive, he'll likely do the same with Lewis. But both of these are drivers past their primes, at the very end of their lifespans. Charles has still yet to prove he can go toe to toe with a great at their prime and win.

Charles is, literally obsessed, with comparing himself to Max in interviews. Now (RIGHTLY SO) we Lestappies all point and laugh and call him a little obsessed but there's a very real publicity reason he wants to insist to everyone how him and Max were on each other's level in karting–people will subconsciously start to associate Charles as being on Max's level even if he hasn't proven it with championships. It's a very calculated move by Charles, and one I haven't seen many people discuss. Charles wants his name and Max's to be said in the same sentence because it validates Charles' own skill.

But Charles doesn't want to be known as Max's equal, not really, what he really wants is to be considered better than Max. And if he can't do that through number of championships, he can do it by putting the two of them in equal machinery. I think Charles will actually push Ferrari into trying to sign Max, because this is the way he can cement himself firmly as one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time.

So I think a perfect storm of these combination of different factors will result in a Max to Ferrari move in 2027. Obviously all pure speculation, but drawing everything together, I'd give it maybe a 50% chance (providing Ferrari actually do come together which, Forza).

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 09

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

If that punching bag could speak, it would beg for mercy. Sweat heated my skin, and with every punch against the rubbery surface, an overstrained grunt sliced through the air.

"I think that's enough for today, Noah," someone said from a distance, but my focus was locked on the back-and-forth motion of my clenched fists, ignoring how they throbbed painfully with each strike.

This was the only way to unload everything consuming me without smashing my head into some random passerby while walking down the street.

The past few days couldn’t have been more hellish. I couldn’t write, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and all I was left with was being forced to see that woman at every rehearsal and act like she didn’t exist.

Impossible when she was everywhere.

"I just said it seems like enough for today, Noah!" The same voice broke the short space between me and the punching bag as it pulled me away from it. "What the hell is wrong with you today? You seem like you're on another planet!"

The trainer stood in front of me, arms crossed, while I slid down the wall until I sat on the floor. My chest heaved uncontrollably as I stared at his calves through the strands of sweat-soaked hair hanging over my face.

Training at night was good; I liked the empty gym, especially when I used it as an escape.

"My head's full of crap, that's all," I spat, removing the wraps around my fists.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Only if you can hit me hard enough to induce permanent amnesia," I tried to joke, but my voice came out more morbid than anything else.

"Actually... I might be able to do that!" The tall, bald man with bulging veins on his temples shrugged. "But forgetting, even temporarily, won't make your crap disappear."

"And who said I want anything resolved? The sooner everything goes to hell, the better."

I definitely didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it came out automatically, and he should ignore it. My good moods were so rare that, to him, this probably felt like just another normal day.

"It might be a relief for a while, but the body reacts differently than your mind. Even if your mind didn’t remember anything, you'd live with the feeling that something’s missing every time it relives memories, habits, interests, and tastes," he added. "Like when you touch an object and your body reacts instantly, or when you visit a place and your insides speak for themselves."

What utter nonsense, for God’s sake.

"Got it," I said, giving him a thumbs-up with a straight smile, as if that load of crap actually made sense.

"Fine, fine, call me crazy, Mr. Know-It-All!" He rolled his eyes, turning his back. My gaze swept the room, watching as he picked up gloves and bags scattered on the floor, placing them on the shelves.

Leaving the gym, I regretted not grabbing a jacket earlier as the wind hit me on the street. Walking to the parking lot, I unlocked the car with a click, and before getting in, I heard a brief cluster of voices in the distance. Turning around, I saw a group of four girls bundled up in band hoodies, phones in hand.

I couldn’t explain why, but a discomfort seemed to envelop me as they approached, realizing I wasn’t about to flee.

“Noah, would you mind taking a picture with us?” asked the tallest girl, her short hair tucked behind her ears.

Well, maybe there was no harm in that.

“Of course! Let’s do it!” I forced a brief smile as they gathered around me.

A guy passing through the parking lot helped take the photo, and I held the smile until he finished.

“Thank you so much, Noah. I hope you’re doing okay!” said another girl with colorful streaks in her hair, stepping aside.

“I am, thanks for asking.”

I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t that I hated my fans or anything. In fact, I’d always been able to separate those who genuinely appreciated the band’s work respectfully from those who felt entitled to my personal life, as if it didn’t belong to me or as if I wasn’t an adult capable of handling my own decisions.

But I couldn’t deny that most of the time, I wished to be a voice without a face. I loved writing music, I loved singing, and I never doubted it was for me since the first time I did it. I just wasn’t so sure that back then, I’d also wanted everything that came with it.

The way I felt uneasy in most recent social interactions made it clear how I felt.

“We just wanted to let you know that no matter what happened, we’re on your side. Always!” she emphasized, and my brows furrowed as my expression darkened.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was on a news channel—speculations that the Bad Omens vocalist’s overdose was her ex-boyfriend’s fault.” The information came with a phone placed in my hand. “They dug up videos of you two arguing at the festival, and now they’re blaming you.”

“They’re piecing together moments from shows where things seemed tense and comparing how she’s been since your breakup,” added a redheaded girl, taking the phone from my hand. “But we’re rallying in your defense. We know she was always the problem, and we won’t let her fans drag your name like that.”

Every misfortune seemed to fall short of what I deserved.

“Look, I’m sure you all have better things to do than worry about this,” I assured them, stepping back closer to the car. “I don’t need lawyers for the internet court. Take care.”

With a final fake smile, my eyes narrowed as I turned my back on them and got in the car. Before starting the engine, I still caught one last complaint.

“It’s incredible how he defends that girl even in the middle of this circus. I don’t understand what the hell she has!” she fumed, stomping her feet and crossing her arms.

That was an excellent question.

I was far too focused on the traffic, humming Sicko Mode by Travis Scott, tapping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. I couldn’t help swaying in a little dance as if nothing was wrong. The sunlight was strong, so I pulled my sunglasses from my hair to better see the road.

For a fleeting moment of distraction, I glanced in the rearview mirror, and a chilling sensation washed over me for no reason. Behind my car, a dark-windowed SUV waited at the same red light. There was no reason for concern—I knew cars like that were common around here.

But the unease grew, gnawing at me, as I decided to test my suspicion when the light turned green. Casually, I turned the first corner to shake it off, but it didn’t take long for the driver of the SUV to appear on the narrow street, blatantly trailing me.

I pressed the gas pedal moderately, and the bastard matched my pace. He didn’t seem intent on cutting me off, maintaining a safe distance—just enough to let me know he was there, aiming to unsettle me.

I tried to keep control, ignoring my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the mirror. Accelerating down the second avenue, I ran a red light, weaving through the crossing traffic to shake the pursuer, my pulse racing in rhythm with the car’s speed.

No time to think. I veered sharply into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with another vehicle that slammed on its brakes. The blaring horn couldn’t even dampen the sinister adrenaline coursing through my veins, heating my blood alongside my labored breathing.

I yanked the wheel, swerving into the first open alley I spotted, slowing just enough to notice the SUV caught in the chaos I’d caused at the intersection, freezing the traffic behind it.

But what the hell was that?

After another meeting in the office, everyone was ready to leave. I was really determined to keep my promise when I said she had died to me yesterday.

Today, I only thought about her three thousand times.

When I passed through the door, I saw that she was right behind me, and it was incredible how every time things were tense between us, she somehow managed to look six times more stunning, as if just to provoke me.

The funniest part was that she didn’t have to try very hard to do it.

“Are you okay?” My steps instinctively halted when I heard her voice. “You seemed agitated when you got to the meeting, and…”

If I were speaking to her, I would’ve surely said that a big part of my irritation came from people spreading lies about us online again and some lunatic racing me on the road just a few minutes earlier.

“I really wanted to talk to you about something,” she insisted, gently touching my back, which I quickly pulled away from. Her fingers carried electricity, and just the slightest contact with my skin was enough to turn my brain into useless mush.

But I wasn’t about to break the silence game.

“Noah?” Gerard poked his head out of the room, interrupting the moment. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Relieved, I exhaled deeply, keeping my back turned to her as I walked into the room. I hated the smell of cigars and strong alcohol that filled the place, and I couldn’t stop glaring disgustedly at the leather furniture, worried the scent would stick to me.

“Just seeing the number of attendees in today’s meeting told me your conversation didn’t go well, did it?”

“Did you call me here to talk about work, or are you looking to catch up on gossip? I’m sure any website could keep you more updated than I could,” I retorted as I slouched in the chair, legs spread, letting my head fall to the side.

Fortunately, I wasn’t very expressive.

“I called you because I care about you two, and of course, this news shook me—not just because it’s a sad decision coming from someone young like her…” Gerard paused dramatically, and I raised a single eyebrow. “But because I’m worried about you in all of this.”

Fascinating.

“It happened exactly as I imagined. There’s no way she could’ve handled another wave of hate after all these months being labeled as problematic. Noah, I knew she’d eventually find a way to drag you into it, to share the blame!”

“I don’t follow the news, so I’m out of the loop,” I lied shamelessly.

“So you haven’t noticed she hasn’t defended you or denied anything being said about you? Noah…” He took a deep breath, clasping his hands with a thick gold ring on his ring finger over the messy desk. “I’ve been your age, and I know what love does to people, especially when it’s one-sided.”

Nothing annoyed me more than people circling endlessly around a topic instead of just saying it outright. We weren’t at a lecture or a sermon, and outside this place, dragging things out made no sense.

It was impossible not to stare at him with more disinterest as I rested my hand on my chin.

“I know you probably think this is all nonsense, but I can’t let you forget what happened the last time an issue between you two crossed personal boundaries and hurt the band,” he stressed, drawing a line on the desk. “I took the hit, and you… well, no need to comment—just search your name online.”

“Every day revisiting the same topic. Don’t you have a new, important agenda to make my visit worthwhile?”

“This will remain the topic until you stop behaving like you’re ready to throw it all away for that disturbed girl again!” He finally bared his claws. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t, even for a second, think it was betrayal for her to throw you to the wolves and save her own skin?”

I’d reached my limit for the day, clearing my throat into my fist before standing and stretching my back. Slowly, I leaned over the desk, bringing my face close to his while locking eyes and moistening my lips with my tongue.

“Gerard, dear…” I whispered so softly it almost sounded like a song. “You can take my band, my money, my rights, my songs, even the damn socks I sell. But my personal life? That’s still none of your damn business!”

“It becomes my business when she manipulates every thought in your head and keeps you from doing your job!”

“As you’ve noticed, we’re no longer together. She made her choice yesterday, and now our relationship is purely professional. I couldn’t care less about what she does from now on, as long as it means she sings properly and does her job!” I declared. “Now, please stop bothering me with things that aren’t my responsibility or interest. I’ll keep ensuring my part is done.”

A strangely triumphant smile formed on his lips, and I watched as Gerard nodded slowly.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, giving two light pats to my cheek. “I knew I could count on you!”

Breathing outside that room again felt like being reborn, if such a thing was possible. The entire way out of the office, I tried to push his words out of my head, though they carried a shred of truth.

I couldn’t forget that when everything fell on her shoulders, I had the same reaction, if not worse, staying silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. But it never did, and now it made sense for her to use a winning hand against me.

She knew I couldn’t do anything on my own, and that gave her free rein to do whatever she wanted. But it was undeniable how bitter it tasted to feel like a stepping stone for her unstable ego.

Outside, I paused at the entrance as rain washed over the dry, empty streets of the city. It wasn’t heavy, but the few drops that hit my face were cold and powerful enough to conjure a mirage before my eyes.

Ahead on the road, there was nothing but trees past the shoulder. In the middle of the asphalt, two people—a couple—smiled as they ran, chasing each other like there was no fear of tomorrow. They danced even without music, and it seemed like the first time the boy had ever felt truly happy about something. He looked free.

Shaking my head to push away the revisited memory, I headed toward the studio, which wasn’t far. Outside, amid the laughter and the sound of guitar riffs, there she was, her voice like a spell capable of putting me in an automatic trance every time I heard it.

Passing through the gate slowly, I walked toward the back of the vast yard. She and my friends were gathered, Jolly and she doing a duet—more precisely, a cover of Decode. Even as they seemed to be having fun, she didn’t go off-key once.

The raspiness of her voice, the beginnings of delirium watching her sit there smiling between verses on a bench with the microphone in hand—it took me back to the bar’s back room, watching her sing in absolute silence. There was no technique, no production, no effect—nothing could compete with the absurd talent I desperately wished the world would know.

The same place where I first saw her and swore I’d never seen anything like it, the same place where I fell hopelessly in love with the insane woman who had a desperation for life, for proving how free she was, enough to infect me with the same poison.

I hated her.

I hated her so much.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ;

[prettyboykatsuki]

later, then | i. rin

✮ tags ; gn!reader, pre-relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, rin in his actor era, assisstant!reader. this is sfw but i am an 18+ blog so minors do not follow me lol.

✮ wc ; 1.4k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @rabbbitseason that i had to rewrite a couple of times. i rlly liked being able to write something like this. i hope u like the direction i ended up going in sdjksdj

✮ synopsis ; on his last day of filming rin tried to keep you out of his thoughts.

"Rin-kun,"

He knows your voice well enough to know it's you before he even opens his eyes. "Hn,"

"We'll be shooting your scenes next," You say, tapping his shoulder lightly. "They told me to wake you up."

It's not like Rin to fall asleep on a set somewhere, no matter how tired he is. He's usually the type to push through it no matter what. It's petty, but it feels like he's lost otherwise.

He was exhausted before hand though. Months of shooting and he still can't get used to his schedule.

He's here from a morning flight from France that he took all the way back home to Japan. After he arrived, he immediately hailed a cab and busted ass to get here on time. He would normally rest on his journey but found he couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep.

Professor Heartbreak is a Japanese TV drama (airing domestically lived and internationally on Netflix) and Rin's first acting role. The series follows a romance between a graduate student caught in a lot of debt and her relationship to one of her pupils, college student and heir to mega corporation.

Rin has never had any interest in acting, and had even less interest in acting in a romance drama. His manager however urged (read: forced) him to take the offer, emphasizing how good it would be for his public image among other things. Of course, Rin still declined but no matter what he did - he couldn't actually seem to get out of doing it.

He's off-season now though he started filming during. He can say with confidence there's nothing he likes about the job. No matter how much his manager or director insists that all he needs is to have a pretty face - there's still a level of annoying obligation he feels towards doing it.

The reception was more positive then they were expecting. Apparently Rin is a half-decent actor. He's not playing a character he feels is so different from him, if not much more cringe.

Rin plays the love interest Yukio. Not very expressive and rich with a tendency to chase what he wants. Generally aggressive about the female love interest.

It doesn't suit him and he doubts he'll do it again. But a lot went into getting the role. If he's going to do it at all, he might as well do it well.

Rin hates shit that's half-assed after all, lukewarm acting doesn't suit him.

Today is the last day of shooting and happens to be one of the last scenes. Shooting is sometimes chronological, but not always. Regardless, after today it'll be the last time Rin steps foot on this set. No more long nights, or trying to memorize lines, no more out of place press runs. The practice season will start again and he can go back to the busy he's been used to since the debut of his soccer career.

That also means it'll be the last time you and Rin spend time in the same room. It's the first thing he thinks of when you wake him.

Rin sits up and carefully rubs his eye, careful not to disturb the makeup he wears for set.

"When the fuck did I sleep?"

You laugh under your breath, handing him a water bottle like you already knew he would want one. He takes it from you and takes a long drink trying to wake himself up.

"Been a little over an hour. Hour and a half, maybe. Did you sleep okay?"

He scowls, just slightly. "It was fine."

"I'm glad you slept well," You add, voice full of mirth and amusement as you read between the lines said all too easily.

He was moody when he came on set with you, worse then normal and refused to sleep. You suggested he rest his eyes and Rin scoffed at you for thinking he's so stupid. He's not a kid you can trick into going to sleepy.

You conceded easily, made a single sly comment about hoping he's all there when it's his turn. It'd be a shame if he had to keep shooting the same scene and ended up home late after all. Enough of a provocation to submit to your stupid suggestion.

Rin supposes this was why his manager hired you in the first place. You're in a temporary position, your contract to be in place until filming is over and Rin's back on normal scheduling. Rin realized pretty early on that you're more like a glorified babysitter then an assistant which is why he didn't have very pleasant expectations of you at the start.

But you're competent. Push without pushing too far. Clever even when it's annoying. You've known each other for a year and the only thing that binds you is work but you're with him all the time. Maybe it's just the job, but it still feels like you know him better then most.

Not like he cares.

Realizing he was tired enough to sleep and goading him into doing it are two separate things though. But you've managed both pretty easily which he can admit is a feat. You're always like that. You remind him a little of another annoying striker in that way.

A quiet settles between you. Rin gropes around for his phone, checking his messages and the time. Still a few hours until the set wraps and no doubt social obligations afterwards. He groans.

"I'm going home after we're done shooting,"

"You can't," You say, apologetic. "Manager says you have to show your face during the after party."

"That doesn't make any fucking sense."

"You're the main male love interest, you should at least drop in for a little bit. Have a beer, unwind."

"I don't like drinking,"

"A soda then. Don't be so stubborn."

Rin huffs, carefully pushing a hand through his hair careful not to mess up the styling. There's a beat of silence.

"Are you going?"

"To the drinking party?"

Rin looks at you as if to ask isn't it obvious. You just chuckle.

"Why?" You tease. "Will you stay longer if I go?"

Rin pauses. And it's quiet for just a second too long before he realizes. You seem to understand the implication almost instantly.

Even before Rin who catches himself just a second too late.

"...I don't mind staying with you until you've filled your quota. If that's what you're asking." You supply.

Rin frowns, faint warmth creeping his neck. "Then do that."

You fight back a smile. "Sure, sure. What time were you thinking of leaving?"

"As soon as possible," He says bluntly. You laugh that time. Brightly. Sincerely.

"Seems like a waste. You can handle fifteen minutes without me, right? Doesn't feel like I need to go if we're gonna part ways so soon anyhow."

Rin pouts. A petulant, ugly feeling in him. He speaks without thinking. "You're saying it like we're never gonna see each other again,"

You both catch it.

"Are we?" You're grinning at him where you stand next to him, eyes cast down to look at his face. He fights off a blush but fails to keep from turning red. Fuck. "Seeing each other again, I mean."

He doesn't know what it is exactly that makes him answer the way he does.. "No shit."

You grin, beam really - and your fingers brush his hand on the couch. Rin jolts, clearly in deeper than he thought.

"Okay. Then let's go together and get something to eat after," You say, coy. "Since we're seeing each other again,"

Rin rubs a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Shut up. Fine. Whatever,"

You laugh again no longer hiding it. He hands his water bottle to you as he gets called onto set. Standing to his feet, he takes a breather to stretch out all his limbs.

You give him a mischievous smile, staring at him openly when something seems to strike you. Like you've just realized something.

"Rin-kun. Bend down a little. I need to tell you something."

Confused but not concerned, he complies without thinking.

You place your copy of the script strategically to obscure both your faces, and in a single split second - Rin feels something soft and warm press against his cheek followed by another giggle like a bell chime. He flusters, instantly scowling and tomato-faced and nearly cussing as you look so self-satisfied.

(Warm. So warm where you linger on his skin. Hot where you've touched him despite how brief.)

"For good luck. I'll see you later then. Knock 'em dead, okay?"

He curses under his breath before they call him one more time and he watches you disappear to go do the other half of your job. He puts his hand to his cheek and takes a breath.

Stupid. He closes his eyes and buries the explosion of feeling in him as he replies to no one in particular.

"Idiot."

[pedroscurls]

Hi! Idk if your requests are closed or not so feel free to ignore this but I’ve been going through a really tough time and I don’t have time to even breathe anymore so I was wondering if you could write something where Hugh just comforts the reader thanks!

safe with me (one-shot)

summary: hugh knows you've been having a difficult time and he hopes that he knows just what you need to help you feel better. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: n/a, comfort / fluff, no use of y/n. word count: 701 a/n: to this anon, i'm so sorry that it took this long for me to fulfill your request. i hope things have gotten better since you requested this and if not, my inbox / messages are always open. thank you for requesting this (as i've been having a hard time myself with just life) - this was very cathartic and therapeutic for me. hope you enjoy. and as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

Hugh knows you’ve been having a tough time lately, can see a change in your behavior even though you tell him that you’re fine. You smile at him, tell him that everything is okay, but Hugh knows that everything isn’t. Whenever you come home, he can see the distress and the exhaustion written all over your features and when he pulls you into his arms when in bed, he can feel the tension in your shoulders. 

It’s been like this for the last few weeks and Hugh doesn’t know if there’s anything that he could do that would help, that would alleviate the stress you’re feeling. If he could, he’d take it all away – whatever it is, Hugh would do anything to make you feel better. 

So, when you text him that you’re working late tonight, it gives him enough time to put his plan in place. He grabs two glasses of wine and your favorite white wine and ascends the stairs to go to the master bathroom. Hugh runs a warm bath for you, lighting candles around the bathroom. He looks around and bites his lower lip, slowly opening the blinds to reveal the skyline of the city. 

Hugh then jogs back downstairs to grab the bag of rose petals that he purchased earlier that evening and walks back into the bedroom. He scatters the rose petals on the white tiled floor and pours a good handful into the water. He hears his phone chime, but doesn’t have enough time to look at it when he hears you step inside the apartment. 

“Hugh?” you call out, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you ascend the stairs. “You in the room?”

“Yeah, baby!” he answers. Hugh looks up when he sees you enter the bedroom and when your eyes meet his, he’s sure that he has done something wrong with the look on your face. Quickly, he steps out of the bathroom and walks over to you, his large hands coming up to rest on your hips. “What’s the matter? Is this too much? I just–”

Tears trickle down your cheeks and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against the crook of his neck. Slowly, Hugh’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against him. “I’m not okay,” you whisper, voice trembling. 

“I know, baby,” he says quietly, moving a hand along your back. “But that’s okay,” Hugh reassures. “I’m right here.”

You cry against him, feeling like the last few weeks are finally catching up to you. You had tried to push it aside, tried to make yourself feel better, but it only pushed it further down. Being in Hugh’s arms, you finally feel like you can breathe, can finally get a glimpse that things will be okay. 

“I ran you a bath,” he whispers, turning his head to place a soft kiss on your temple. “You up for it?” 

You pull back and look up at him, wiping the tears away from your face. “You didn’t have to…”

“I know,” Hugh leans in and pecks your lips lightly. “I wanted to.” He releases his hold on you and instead reaches for your hand, leading you into the bathroom. 

You look around and bite your lower lip, tears again pooling at the corner of your eyes. “Hugh…”

“Too much?” 

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

Hugh smiles and turns to face you, gently reaching up to remove the blazer you’re wearing. “Far from it, baby. Now, let me take care of you. Will you let me do that?”

You nod slowly and look down to see your blazer pool at your feet. “Okay,” you whisper. 

Hugh hooks a finger under your chin, slowly lifting your gaze to meet with his. “Whatever you’re going through, I’m right here with you, baby. Now, let’s get you in the bath. You’ve been tense and I think you need a massage.” He smiles and pecks your lips lightly, pulling away only to help you disrobe the rest of your clothing.

You let out a relieved breath. For the first time in weeks, you feel the weight slowly begin to lift off your shoulders and that’s all thanks to Hugh.

[daisymbin]

Would you mind writing about Vernon with the angst prompt #22 and second chance prompt #36? Thank you so much m💜

of course!! thank you for requesting such a good combo!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

angst prompt #22: "I can't lose you again." +

second chance prompt #36: "you're still the first person i think of when i hear good news."

hansol didn’t think he’d ever have this moment again.

you, standing in front of him, looking at him like you were waiting for him to speak, waiting for him to say something that mattered.

it had been months. months since that fight, months since the slammed door, months since the version of him that loved you was tucked away in a part of him he didn’t think he could reach again. except he did reach it. every time he saw something funny. every time he heard a song you’d love. every time someone said your name.

and now you were here, and he was scrambling, piecing together fragments of himself that shattered the day he lost you.

“you look... good,” he managed, voice breaking on the second word.

your lips curled into a faint smile. “so do you.”

but you didn’t. not really. not to him.

you looked tired, as if you’d carried something heavy all the way to him, and hansol wondered if he was the weight you’d been dragging behind you all this time.

“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep them from shaking.

you hesitated. he knew you hated confrontation, and part of him wanted to tell you it was okay, that you didn’t owe him anything. but the other part—the bigger part—couldn’t stand to see you turn away again.

“i don’t know,” you said finally, voice as fragile as glass. “i just… i guess i needed to see you.”

he couldn’t breathe.

“why?”

you laughed, but it wasn’t the laugh he missed. this one was bitter, almost sad.

“i guess i was hoping you could tell me,” you admitted. the words falling out of mouth like an apology.

hansol took a step closer, his hands twitching at his sides. he didn’t dare touch you, not yet, not when it felt like you might disappear if he blinked too hard.

and hansol realized something then—he didn’t care why. all he cared about was that you were here.

“i thought about you,” he confessed, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

your eyes met his, wide and unsure, and hansol pressed on, desperate to fill the silence between you.

“every day,” he said, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “even when i tried not to. i thought about you.”

you didn’t say anything, and hansol felt the panic rising in his chest.

“you’re still the first person i think of when i hear good news,” he admitted, his hands curling into fists. “every time something happens, i want to tell you. and then i remember i can’t. not anymore,”

your breath hitched, and hansol felt like he was unraveling, the words pouring out faster than he could catch them.

“i can’t lose you again,” he said, the desperation thick in his voice. “not after this. not after—”

“hansol.”

your voice was soft but firm, and it stopped him in his tracks.

you stepped closer, your eyes searching his face for something he didn’t know if he could give you.

“why?” you asked, echoing his earlier question.

“because you’re here,” he said, and it was the only answer he had. “because i never stopped wanting to fix this. fix us. but i didn’t know how. i didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

you didn’t say anything right away, and hansol’s heart felt like it was seconds away from shattering.

“do you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you looked down, your fingers twitching like you were debating something, and when you looked back up, there was something in your eyes that hansol hadn’t seen in months.

“i don’t know,” you said honestly, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

but then your lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and hansol felt the slightest flicker of hope.

“maybe,” you said, and hansol realized that maybe was enough. maybe meant there was a chance.

“can we try?” he asked, his voice trembling.

you didn’t answer, not with words. but when your fingers brushed against his, hesitant and unsure, hansol felt the air return to his lungs.

he didn’t know what would happen next. he didn’t know if this was the start of something new or the beginning of another heartbreak.

but when your hand slipped into his, he decided it didn’t matter.

[rafelandia]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby (Rafe x fem!reader): Chapter One

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Y/N is new to the island and Rafe seeks asylum in the bar she works at.

Author's Note: Hello! Wanted to say thank you for all of the love on my last few writings. The idea of Rafe not realizing he's falling in love, especially with someone he shouldn't, is so personal to me and honestly what made me create this blog in the first place - so here we go! This will be somewhat of a slow burn, friends-to-lovers-ish piece and I can't wait to hear what you all think! Likes and reblogs are obviously welcomed as well as any requests or questions (related to this fic or otherwise - I love drabbling about this man and will write about anything). Enjoy!

It was a rainy night when she first saw him. She was wiping down the counter top with a slightly mildewed rag when the door chime rang, signaling his entrance. He settled into the barstool furthest from the door, almost as if he was hiding from something. Prior to just now, she had been alone in the shitty, oceanside bar that threatened to capsize any day now. She liked it better this way, empty and quiet. Could play her own music, move at her own pace, even close up a little early if she got lucky.

She noticed immediately that he seemed out of his element, like he knew he shouldn't be here. Although she'd only moved here a few months ago, she'd gotten quite good at deciphering pogues from kooks. This man was no pogue. He'd tried to disguise himself - toned arms adorned in a knitted sweater covered in tiny beads of the salty rain. His jeans were tattered, but not from being worn out and washed a million times; like they were manufactured precisely to look like they'd been through hours of tough labor and dirt. What ultimately gave it away was his watch - she'd never seen metal reflect that brightly even in the shitty, yellow glow of the overhead lamps that hung above her. It had to be worth a good chunk of change.

He looked exhausted, stressed, tired, something like that. She knew that feeling. It had been hard starting over here on the island. It had been 3 months since she'd moved into the quaint townhouse further inland, away from most of the liveliness of the city. Making friends had proved to be quite difficult and she'd only just now managed to afford the sofa for her living room that she wanted.

She wasn't sure why, but she was nervous to approach him. He seemed important. Or intimidating at the very least, she wasn't sure. She walked quietly towards him, afraid to even disturb him with her footsteps. Baby blue eyes reach hers before she can greet him.

"Whiskey," he breaks the silence, fingers tapping on the warped wood of the bar top, "Neat."

Chewing on the inside of her lip, she offered him an empathetic smile and nod before turning to face the wall of liquor that lined the shelves.

"You seem out of place," she pointed out, her fingers wrapping around the thick glass bottle to remove the stopper.

"What makes you say that?" the man inquired, eyes pointed down and looking at the rings of water stains from all of the patrons that came here before him.

"Not that hard to tell. You keep bouncing your leg up and down like you're about to pounce and while you seem unassuming in that outfit, I can tell that that sweater is pretty expensive. Maybe it's the cologne, kinda hit me in the face as soon as you walked in. Could be the watch, too. I'm no expert but I think -"

"Okay, I get it," he cut her off with a chuckle as she slid his poison of choice towards him, "Kook caught in pogue territory."

She takes note of the disingenuous look on his face. He seemed to stiffen in his seat.

"You know I only moved here a couple of months ago, but I've noticed you people are obsessed with choosing sides," she thinks aloud, "Why the need to be so divisive?"

He chewed on her words while the thick, amber-colored nectar sloshed between his cheeks.

"Don't know honestly. You raise a fair question," he leans back in the stool, arm moving to drape across the one next to him.

She tried not to stare while she continued to wipe down the rest of the bar. Really, she should leave him alone she thinks. God only knows what kind of power this man holds and what he could do. Who was she to pry?

"Why did you come here to hide, then?" she asked. Fuck it.

The sun-kissed, stoic man across from her inhaled deeply through his nostrils and exhaled through his lips, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

She thinks she's made a royal mistake before, surprisingly, he answers.

"Just wanted to go somewhere where people don't ask questions," he stated, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before focusing back to his drink that was nearing its end.

Heat crept up to her ears and her stomach turned in embarrassment.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be."

Her attention diverted back to her closing duties - refilling cocktail napkins and changing over the cooler filled with cut up fruits.

"It's alright," the man smiled as his fingers circled the rim of his glass, "Kinda nice to talk to someone that doesn't need something from me or needs me to fix something."

He notices the way her lips turn down slightly. She felt bad for him.

"You said you just moved here?" he continued.

"Y-yeah. Back in the spring," she stuttered, a sigh of relief taking over when she realized she hadn't ruined his evening.

"Where are you staying?"

"Um, bit of a commuter. I live a few miles inland so I think that marks me safe from the kooks and pogues war," she toyed.

He laughed at her, chest rising and falling with each chuckle.

"Guess it does. You liking it so far?" he asked, genuine curiosity laced in his words.

"It's alright. I mean, I've always loved the beach and the place I found was pretty cheap. Just wanted to get out of where I was before and see what sticks I guess."

The man nods in agreement, silently pondering what it would be like if he did the same. He'd had the impulse so many times. Just pack up and leave. But he's not that bold he thinks. A part of him is scared he won't mean anything to anyone if he steps foot off of Figure Eight.

"Seems nice. You on your Rumspringa or something?"

The woman standing across from him laughed loudly, caught off guard by his jest. Her cheeks flushed and glowing in the dingy lighting of the bar. They really needed to change the bulbs on the overheads.

"Something like that."

He's laughing at his own joke, relishing in the fact that he's made her smile. He's not sure why, but her laugh latches onto him, like the warm sun that bakes his shoulders on a hot and sunny afternoon. He likes it.

"It's really not all that bad at the end of the day," the man says in earnest, "Aside from the...societal tensions, for lack of a better word. It's a really beautiful island."

She's staring at him now. Initially, and shamefully, she'd assumed he was a prick. His kind had stumbled into this bar on occasion and they usually weren't very nice or talkative. They'd run up a tab, speak loudly and vulgarly about a business partner or a girl for hours before stumbling out of the door without tipping. But he seemed different. Like he'd been longing for a conversation that wasn't about closing a deal or for someone to genuinely just ask him how he was. There was something so human behind the eyes of someone you'd expect to be anything but.

"It is," she agreed, smiling at him sweetly, "You need another?"

He hadn't even realized his drink was empty.

Just before he could answer yes, the chime of a cell phone pierced the walls of the bar.

"Sorry," the man huffed, pulling the sleek, black phone from the pocket of his jacket that hung on the back of his stool.

His eyes grew heavy and he sighed when processed the contents of the message, hands moving to run across the lower half of his face in frustration.

"I actually gotta head out," he seemed disappointed when he spoke, now reaching for his wallet that was tucked away in the same pocket. "Is it always this dead in here?"

"More or less," she answered, "It's nice having the place to myself sometimes."

He grinned as she took his card from him. As she walked to the register, she glanced quickly at the name embossed on the plastic. Rafe Cameron.

"I bet," Rafe agreed. "Hard to find that around here these days. Guess I'll add it to my list of hiding spots."

The woman smiled coyly as she slid the clipboard towards him, card, pen, and receipt attached to the hinges.

"You know," she started, "We usually close the patio at 7, but if you ever need some quiet I won't tell anyone."

His eyes locked with hers for a brief second before moving to the receipt, signing his name with an unrecognizable scribble before standing up to redress himself with his coat. He smirked down at his feet, a hint of bewilderment taking over. Why was she being so nice to him? he thought.

He pressed his lips together, pretending to lock them with an imaginary key and patting his chest. Her "secret" was safe with him.

"Have a good rest of your night, Rafe Cameron," she said with a grin.

She's met with a similar smile, a slight dimple forming on the left side of his cheek.

"You too..," Rafe's eyebrow turning up in question.

"Y/N."

He nodded, feet trailing towards the dry rotted front door that inched towards collapse each time it swung on its hinges.

"Have a good night, Y/N," he stated before ducking out of the bar and back into the cool drizzle of the rain.

She went on about her night, grabbing Rafe's glass and placing it in a carton to be hauled off to the dishwasher in the back. Assuming that the rain had scared off any future customers, she decided to close up early and head home to her furry friend that was probably begging for some cuddles and neck scratches.

As she was balancing the drawer in her register, she looked at Rafe's receipt. He'd tipped her triple the cost of the whiskey. Chuckling silently to herself, she wondered if she'd ever see him again. Someone by law of the land she should probably be weary of, Y/N thought she wouldn't mind having someone like Rafe Cameron around.

[cillian-gets-me-wetter]

prologue- kiss it better (series)

warnings: implied smut (18+ only), mutual pining, sexual talk, cheating

disclaimer: i do not own people or teams mentioned in this story besides the original character(s). this is strictly for fictional purposes only.

a/n: did i get a little carried away with this? maybe. but did i enjoy writing it? absolutely

masterlist 🩰

word count: 951

erika and joe first met in 2018 when he transferred over to louisiana state from ohio state to have more opportunities to play football. he sat next to her in a lecture during english class, showing up a bit late after struggling to find his classes. as the school year progressed, they had become good friends, being supportive and encouraging of one another’s goals and aspirations. they still remained friends after they graduated from college and moved to pursue their different career paths, but whenever they had time to see each other, it was as if time didn’t exist. in 2022, a year into her relationship with nicholas, she felt like something was missing within it despite everything going great. she was in cincinnati, visiting joe and attending the bengals home game against the los angeles rams. 

september 2022

erika and joe sat on his couch as they were watching the hangover after his win earlier that night as they were catching each other up on their lives. he looked over and asked her, “so, how’s it going with you and nick?” she shrugged, taking a swig from her beer before answering, “i don’t know. it’s been okay, i guess.” he eyed her curiously, seeing the conflicted look on her face. “just okay?” she sighed, unsure to describe how she feels about her relationship. “i mean, it’s going great; don’t get me wrong. but i just feel like there’s something missing." he chuckled softly, “what? is the sex bad?” the question made her look away, telling him everything he needed to know. “damn.. that bad, huh?” 

erika rolled her eyes at what he said, not outright denying anything. “joey.. it’s not funny.” joe shook his head; the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. “i never said it was.” she sighed, “it’s not that it’s bad sex. it’s decent, but after, i just feel so.." she met his gaze; he listened intently as she tried to find the right words. he broke the brief silence, completing her sentence with one word that summed up what she was feeling: “unsatisfied.” she nodded, biting her bottom lip as a wave of guilt flowed through her. he scooted closer next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. his expression softened, pulling her close against his body. “i’m sorry, bunny. i didn’t mean to make you feel upset or uncomfortable.”

she shook her head; her heart skipped a beat whenever he called her that since he gave her the nickname in college. “it’s okay; what you said didn’t upset me. i feel so guilty for thinking that way, like i’m an awful person for viewing my own boyfriend in that kind of light.” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “hey, you aren’t a bad person for having that opinion. it’s how you feel; don’t downplay it. what makes you feel unsatisfied?” she gave him a small smile; he always knew how to make her feel better and at ease. she leaned into him more, resting her head against his shoulder. “like after we have sex, he always asks if i came, and of course, i say yes. but i actually didn’t.. or i question if i did or not.”

he feels her body warmth as she leaned against him, his heart beating out of his chest. “well, usually if you have to question it, it means you didn’t. maybe he just needs to get to know how your body works more, like what makes you tick, rather than focusing on just his own pleasure.” she let out a short laugh; she wasn’t making fun of his response, but having something like that was out of her element. “yeah, i’ve never experienced that.” he looked at her in curiosity once more, wondering what she was implying. “what do you mean?” she shrugged, a bit self-conscious and embarrassed when she answered his question. “i’ve never had a guy make me cum before.” his eyes widened slightly in disbelief, not expecting that to be her answer. “oh shit. are you serious?”

she looked away, her face flushed with embarrassment that she’s having this conversation with her best friend. “yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing.” he shrugged, and while he understood why she was embarrassed by it, he couldn’t help but want to help her out. “i get it. but if i’m being honest, i don’t find it embarrassing.” she met his gaze again, feeling a sense of relief. “you don’t? or are you saying that to make me feel better?” his hand moved down her body, giving her hip a gentle squeeze. “i really don’t. in fact, your little confession makes me want to help you out.” her breath hitched in her throat when she felt his hand squeeze her hip, her hands falling into place on his chest. “you want to help me? how?”

his hand moved up to her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “want me to show you?” she felt chills run down her spine after he asked, nodding wordlessly. he leaned in, closing his eyes and capturing her lips in a slow, exploratory kiss. immediately kissing him back, her fingers ran through his hair, parting her lips for him. he slipped his tongue into her mouth, as she let his tongue overpower hers. he guided her back onto the couch and parted her legs to feel more comfortable against her body, breaking the kiss. “is this okay?” she nodded, her hands trailing down his chest. “yes, joe.. i’ve wanted you for so long.” he groaned at her confession, “fuck, bunny.. i’ve wanted you too.” he kissed her again, but this time it was urgent and heated as erika allowed herself to get lost into the pleasure.

a/n: part 1 is still in the works! but i definitely had too much fun writing out this little introduction for y’all :)

[animalistic00]

Hey!!! Here’s another breakdown of my thoughts I told you it was coming!!!! I just needed time to process because OMG🤯

Cleo’s post of SpongeBobs brain on fire and the mini hims panicking is a MOOD. She didn’t have to call out reader like that though, lmao even though it’s true and definitely how everyone reading it myself included was feeling. The reader then commenting; “help me” only for Cleo to post a SpongeBob and Patrick reaction pic IS EVERYTHING. Pope’s comment makes it even ten times better and more hilarious. AND THE AUDACITY OF JJ TO COMMENT 😂 like you did this brother.

NOW THE TEXTS🤯😭 I needed a whole ass warning for these. Died and came back to life, like you were so wrong (BUT SO RIGHT) for this. I had to take another pause while writing this because BABES this is so phenomenally OUTSTANDING words can’t describe it but I’m going to try my absolute best.

JJ immediately coming to reader and being like “we should wait.” STAWP 😭✋I can’t that’s so unbelievably sweet and thoughtful. Like you can tell, YOU WRITE/SHOW him caring for the reader so freaking well. Him also being like, “this isn’t the best time” you can tell he’s not only so deeply in love with her, but he cares about her so much. Like don’t get me wrong; I definitely get the vibe he absolutely loves her and has loved her romantically for ages; but I also get and feel that he loves and cares for her platonically so hard too. Like yes he wants to date reader, but that’s his best friend first and foremost and it just shows; YOU SHOW IT SO AMAZINGLY.

Him reassuring her😭 he’s so perfect STOP I want him. I want them to end up together. (BUT THEN YOU COME OUT SWINGING WITH RAFE AND IT AINT FAIR)

Okay; this is also another thing and I know I’m gonna repeat myself (I do that a lot) but you actually write him so well. Him being like ; “good or bad; wait no don’t answer that.” Is SOOOOOO- I have so many thoughts. JJ is such a reckless individual but he’s also extremely selfless and loyal to those he cares for and you portray that perfectly. Like poor baby definitely wants to know what reader is thinking and feeling, but he understands that this isn’t a good time and she needs time. SO being the selfless individual he is he’s like we’ll wait until YOUR ready. LIKE PLEASE; this is amazing and perfect. Indescribable. Him being like; “you need to think and I need to prepare myself.” Is so sweet and sad; like I know poor baby is preparing himself for the worst and rejection and how he’ll be able to keep reader in his life. Because let’s be honest he won’t want to lose her😭

THE PLANS BE HAD TO ASK HER OUT 😭☠️ four years ago, then the summer, and then after the season. Mans was trying and that’s actually really cute too and it’s totally in character for him to have plans but then BE IMPULSIVE AND IGNORE THEM

The line; “I always have plans when it comes to you.” I NEED TO SAY NOTHING ELSE.

Him still offering to have the conversation after everything has calmed down and the reader is ready is just MWAH. No words needed, it explains itself. Before he tells her that until then, they’re best friends and he cares about her being happy. That, that’s all he cares about. He’s so perfect LIKE I CANT. CAN I HAVE HIM? PLEASE??!?

Also the ma’am✋😍

Then them immediately talking about pranking Pope is HILARIOUS and actually such a great detail and addition. It shows how close they are as best friends and even though with all the drama and feelings in the mix they will be BEST FRIENDS first.

P4L

The instagram POST🥰 Besties fr. Sarah calling them trouble makers or finders is so real; CUZ THEY BOTH. Also I love Cleo so much. Her comment is nothing short of amazing, and I stand our wife. AND THEN POOR POPE😭😂 I love and LIVE for their and this dynamic.

The gingerbread houses post from Cleo, are amazing and I can’t. Her house, as it should be💅, WAS STUNNING!!! I have no idea what JJ was doing but GOOD LORD, he um…tried? Bless his heart, let’s keep him out on the football field. NOW CLEO COMPLIMENTING RAFE?!? 👀 his house does look good, but I know wifey still mad on readers behalf so I was SURPRISED when I saw that. Not only that, Rafe hanging out with everyone. Like reader is one powerful woman 🗣️💅 she’s keeping EVERYONE in line. (Rafe’s house was good fr though) I don’t even have words for John B’s house. LIKE HOW DID JJ DO BETTER?!? Also Rafe legit admitting that he tried so hard so he’d be invited back is so cute and sad.

Readers Christmas post is adorable. AND POOR TOPPER, like please this man is struggling for his life. Someone please update this mans, he’s so lost and I love it. Rafe needs to talk to him for real. Like please. (At the same time I love him being so lost and it should definitely continue on for a bit hehe 😈) Cleo was definitely right about crazy crowd choice because whew, again talk about readers power.

Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit confused on the letter one. Is Rafe posting a picture of a letter the reader wrote (that was my first guess) or is he posting a pic of one he wrote to her? AGAIN TOPPER in the comments confused😂 Rafe telling him to “shut up,” was wrong of him.

THE PIC OF RAFE AND JJ. The POWER reader holds should be feared by all. Also the photo is actually so funny, (and I wanna know the story in real life) but even better I wanna know the story behind the picture in this AU. Like what was JJ doing with all those glasses MUCH LESS ON HIS FACE? How did reader get these two to agree to go out to dinner with her, and much less them staying civil for HER 🥰🤭😩 and this time Pope in the comments being confused is hilarious.

Now the texts between reader and Rafe…I can’t 😭 gonna have to break it down just like the JJ ones.

Rafe starting off the text with thanking reader and saying how he’s missed her is so sad. Like he obviously is still head over heels for her and is so glad for ANY crumb he gets.

POLYAMOROUS?!?? Please. Please. I beg because I cannot choose for the life of me and I don’t want there to be a choice. But her being like; “JJ had fun.” Is such a big deal even if it was her, it’s the fact that it was also her and them. Like you know they secretly enjoyed each others company. That or I’d like to at least see reader remain close friends with whoever doesn’t “win” and actually for Rafe and JJ to become close. Just for everyone to eventually become close and besties 😭 (FEED MY DELULU PLEASE?🙏)

Rafe saying we should give JJ a chance FLABBERGASTED ME. Still leaves me flabbergasted when I read it. Was not expecting that from him, but it honestly shows how much he’s grown and matured from before. And how serious he is about being our friend first and foremost. As he says. Which leads me to the; “because I’m your friend. I told you I would be the best friend you've ever had. Your friend would want you to be happy. And I think you need to give him a chance.” Like I can’t with him. That’s- it’s indescribable. That’s so selfless and truly shows how much he cares for the reader. I’d honestly immediately fold if someone told me this 😂☠️ poor reader cuz I could never. Why do they both have to be so sickly sweet and selfless?

I canttttttttttt; YOUR PAYING FOR MY THERAPY. Rafe being like as your ex, I know what I want, what you mean to mean, who my true love is, and what not. Is UGHHHHH and then him being like you deserve to figure out what you want and who you love and I’m here for whatever you choose. ☠️ I both love and hate that. I hate making choices so I’m like “NOOO, AHHHHH” but it is so sweet.

I apologize (LIES) I actually don’t; no but this is so long. I just had so many thoughts and feelings that I wanted to get out and share with you especially since you seemed to enjoy my last post. In case you’re confused I’m posting/rebloging this on my reblog account. I’m animalistic0, anywho I love your work so much this story is the best. Absolutely OBSESSED. Thank you for sharing, and creating this artwork.

Kildare University- Sophomore Year: 9

Synopsis: A Social Media AU in which you find yourself at Kildare University along with your friends. Starting over at a new school shouldn't be difficult. Well, except for the fact that your ex-boyfriend is the quarterback, and you are the drum major. Add in a little bit of drama, a lot of friendship, an ex who can't seem to let you go, and a best friend who has been in love with you since you were kids and well? Welcome to KU!

Pairings: Past!Rafe x Reader, JJ x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Masterlist

Taglist:

@akobx @onelonelybitch @the-universe-and-karma @beeskisses @frankoceanluvr11 @ivy-34 @rafecameronsloverrrrr @k-k0129 @asyouwish-fromcabin3 @xoxo-ada @aariahnaa @strawberryforks @urbrunettebombshell @whatisoutside @spenceatiny18 @animalistic0