#i’m just going to be a little busy since. important stuff.
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You make a lot of good points
1. Fair point, jerky would be one of the best things for them to find. But still, the writers choose for her to pick beef for a reason. It was a food she genuinely enjoyed, for various reasons, and the trauma from the island ruined it for her.
Like, imagine being stranded for almost a year with scarce food, and when you finally get back home you start to find you can’t even stomach your favorite meals because they remind you of the horrors you witnessed. So now your options are to trigger yourself by either eating the food or by depriving yourself of food that you desperately want but can’t bring yourself to eat.
^ This is why I think her being a meat-lover is important, definitely not a core part of her character, but it is, or was, a part of her and it shows how traumatized she is. She’s the only one of the group, so far, who changed their entire diet as a result of their trauma because she literally can’t bring herself to eat it anymore.
2. Now that I’m remembering Sammy saying the campgrounds were almost as big as her family’s ranch, it’s definitely a feedlot if they supply that much beef on that amount of land.
They could have other farms, but that seems to go against canon. She never mentions her fmaily owning any other place than the ranch, and the ranch is the only plot of land Daniel mentions buying from them. If they have any other farms or businesses it’s most likely on that land, and if they don’t and have more farms on different properties, then it kind of lowers the stakes for her family. It’s still horrible but they aren’t losing everything they have like the show implied. At least before the park goes down, they still have a lot to fall back on.
And the borrowing money part is why I’m not sure about the idea that her family’s wealthy. They’re super wealthy but they don’t have enough in their savings account to cover unexpected costs? They don’t have good insurance in case something breaks down or is damaged? They couldn’t get a loan from a bank and had to turn to shady lenders instead?
Granted, we never learned why, or how much(?), they had to borrow in the first place, which is kind of odd. Seven seasons of the show and we’ve gotten no insight on that when it a major plot point (but hopefully season 3 of CT brings it up).
3. Masrani has absolutely no interest in the well being of livestock, he does not care about them. If he did the park wouldn’t use live prey, which may or may not have included cattle, to feed the dinosaurs, he would’ve opted for toys and other things to keep them engaged like regular zoos do, and on top of that the staff would never have been given the okay to use baby animals to draw out the velociraptors. (Seriously, the piglet scene was horrible.)
If the the Gutierrez’s ranch is that humane it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the them.
Also, the reason we were given for why they refused wasn’t because they were loyal to Masrani. They’ve might’ve been on good terms with him since he invited her in the first place, but Sammy said that they refused because they weren’t going use her like that. And as far as ethics go, not putting your child at risk is the bare minimum for parents.
(Tags)
[#but also she probably didn't get to see a lot of the hand-on stuff and darker sides of the industry] - I don’t know, she was 14 at the start of CC, possibly the oldest child, and was raised on a family owned farm in rural Texas. I feel like she would’ve seen the hands-on stuff and darker sides of farming at least a few times, considering she knew how to calmly and properly handle a large, frightened animal on her own at 14 and, while revealed at 21(ish), knew how to help egg-bound chickens*, and also just since they had chickens. (Idk what it is with people and chickens, but people are a lot more comfortable having kids, even little kids, be present for their slaughter more than other animals.)(*Also, egg binding is more common in younger hens and can kill them/lead to them having to be put down. For chickens it’s an actual medical emergency, and it’s one that she has hands on experience. She doesn’t have chickens on her ranch, so they would’ve have to be her family’s chickens.)
[so yeah no thank you for her that's the trauma] - I wasn’t trying to say what happened wasn’t the trauma that lead to her going vegetarian, because it is. What I’m saying is that witnessing animal suffering and death in of itself wasn’t what caused her to go vegetarian, it was witnessing the suffering and deaths of specific animals (possibly including humans?) that lead her to the point.
It sounds nitpicky, but the the difference matters when going through how her trauma affected her and led her to becoming vegetarian.
Sammy going vegetarian isn’t as simple as seeing/hearing/being around a lot of animal suffering and death, because she’s always been exposed to it, whether directly or indirectly.
The realization of “wait, it’s wrong to do this livestock” didn’t come because she saw the suffering and deaths of animals, she had seen enough of it surrounding livestock already, it came because she saw the suffering and deaths of animals that she wasn’t raised to be okay with. It was a species specific revelation.
If she hadn’t witnessed the suffering of non-livestock she’d probably still be eating meat regardless of how many frightened cattle she calmed or chickens she helped with, or even loss due to, being egg-bound.
It’s like the difference between tagging a cattle’s ear and tagging a dog and/or cat’s ear. The pain the three of them would experience from it is the same, but it’s only considered cruel to do to two of them. And that’s what would cause some people to start thinking about the cattle, not because the cattle suffered, but because a different animal, “the wrong animal”, did.
Eating meat was never a core part of Sammy's character? She wasn't walking around talking about how she only likes hamburgers, or she would kill for a steak, or cracking beef related puns, or anything that would indicate "I like eating meat" is a core personality trait the same way running is to Yaz or dino facts are to Darius. The core personality trait is her devotion to her family on the ranch, where yes they process cattle for food, but that doesn't make eating meat an ingrained part of your DNA lol.
Sammy saw a lot of animal suffering and death on Nublar and beyond, its understandable why she would maybe want to become a vegetarian. I'm not even a vegetarian, I think you're just wanting to see something that's not there.
What about the time Sammy said "I love nothing more than steak and Yasmina, and I'm all out of steak" and then proceeded to suplex a Scorpius Rex
#sammy gutierrez#jwcc sammy#jwct sammy#jurassic world chaos theory#jwct#chaos theory#camp cretaceous#jurassic world camp cretaceous#jwcc
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aaa hi i’m back!! (where my hug at) life has been very tough as of late because wowowow i’m like an adult at this point wtf and so many serious things have juggled up together but i’m tougher! so i’m okay and very much refreshed now after that little break i took. waaagshds i missed you all even though i was out for like 3-4 days not even a week </3 (the parasocialism is crazy)
and thank you for the comments and concerns i appreciate each and every one of you so much <3
also in about a week or so i’ll be gone again for a week because of midterms and other personal businesses i’d have to attend to for the month,, i’ll make a post on that when the times comes. but i’m feeling better now so i’ll be here for a bit to chill and be silly yippee!!
#📣 lumes announcements#☁️ lume speaks#(also i need to put away the christmas hat. it’s quite outdated as much as i hate to admit it)#literally almost sobbed when i saw the comments and other stuff#raaaaa i love you guys 🥹#that small absence was very much needed because i feel f r e s h#i’m just going to be a little busy since. important stuff.#<- very important social gatherings i’d have to attend to at a nine day period since it’s a family thing#i’m still drained over the children & amount of social interactions i went through but we chilling#that and.. high school things. but fuck it we ball
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1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!
2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr
3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!
overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!
#aritalks#i did cry a little bit when i first woke up because i dont really know what to do about work and also i hate not having a car i can use#not only because of the work aspect but also getting my license when i was 18 gave me a freedom i didn’t have before#and i don’t like having to rely on other people just to like go to the fucking store or something yk#but then my best friend/roommate messaged me happy birthday and i was like fuck it! today is going to be a good day!#the stressful uncertainties can wait until tomorrow#also one of my best friends who hasn’t said happy birthday to me the past two years#(not intentionally im p sure they were just busy on my birthdays the past two years#and then had that moment of ‘oh shit i didnt send a message fuck i think its too late now’ which i totally get bc anxiety things yk)#was one of the first people to message me happy birthday!!#i’m also hoping to still be able to go see my mom and then stay the night at my dads tonight#so i can see both my parents and also my baby siblings for my birthday#my dads working today but after he texted happy birthday i sent him a text asking if he thinks we could still make it work#my mom is asleep still i think (she called me at midnight and left a voicemail singing happy birthday!! but her sleep schedule has been all#over the place recently so i’m waiting until 11:30 to call her which is in like 30 mins)#but she said something yesterday about driving out to me to give me a hug and also bring me my diabetes stuff that got delivered#(her house is my mailing address because i know it’s not going to change bc it’s my great grandparents house that she’s partially inhereting#when my great grandpa dies but since i have moved out of my dads my address has changed twice and i didnt have a mailbox at my last place so#just for the sake of consistency and not having to worry about important shit getting sent to the wrong address i’ve had her house as my#mailing address since i moved out of my dads at 19)#so i think i’m gonna ask her if she can just pick me up instead so i can go to her house w her and hang out with her#and hopefully my dad will be able to at least stop by with my siblings so i can see them too#i’d like to stay the night with them but if we can’t make it happen then i can also stay the night w my mom and hopefully tomorrow figure#out the car situation. might have to rent a car for a week if i can afford it? best case scenario is my moms car can be fixed but i still#dont know whats wrong with it ik there are two potential problems and one is fixable the other is not#the fixable one would cost like $150-$400 to fix depending on if we get a used part or a new one#if its $150-$200 ish i can probably afford to pay for the whole thing or at least most of it#but if its more than that hopefully my dad or one of my family members can help#and i can just pay them back in like $50 increments with my next few paychecks#just realized i said i wouldnt worry abt the car thing today and also i think im at tag limit to i’ll stop now lmao xoxo gossip girl ❤️
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Levi's horrible flirting skills part 8.
Masterlist link to all the previous parts.
“So... King’s anniversary’s coronation. Are you coming?” Erwin casually dropped the question without a clear addressee, or at least in Levi’s opinion, as he played with a pen while waiting for the early morning meeting to end. He had only slept a very counted number of hours.
But as the silence reigned, it made him raise his attention, fearing that the question was directed at him. And indeed, it was. Erwin was looking at him.
“Are you coming?” Erwin insisted. “I don’t think I’ve to remind you how important this event is.”
Escaping the intense blue eyes, Levi pretended to be interested in anything else inside the room. “I... I’m rather busy. I’ve got a lot of delayed paperwork I should work on over the weekend.”
The commander looked exhausted as he stared back at him, the invitation slowly dropping onto the table. “I’m sure your boss, me, wouldn’t mind you presenting your work a couple of days later.”
“You don’t know my boss.”
Erwin sighed loudly and put away the letter with the invitation. “You know, very influential and powerful people attend these events. It would be great for the Scouts’ economy if you could go and land us some donations.”
He passed his plus-one invitation to Hange so they could try to get some donations for their titan investigations. Levi fought the urge to roll his eyes as Erwin’s speech was so frequent and repeated, like a mother angry at returning home to find the dishes not cleaned.
“You know that me and influential filthy pigs don’t get along.”
“Hey, I’ve been part of the Scouts longer, and he gets his own invitation while I get a plus-one?” The brunette complained.
“’Cause you’re not Humanity’s strongest?” Levi asked back with a raised eyebrow. “If you want it, I’ll gladly give you that stupid invitation.”
“Ugh, since that title landed you a date with that nurse of yours, you’ve gotten cocky about it,” Hange pointed out playfully, intending to get on Levi’s last nerve.
Erwin chuckled as Levi squinted his eyes. “She didn’t go out with me because of it.”
“Not even you believe that,” unlikely of him, Erwin joined in on the joke, making Levi roll his eyes and frown deeply.
“You two are just so fucking jealous. When was the last time any of your titles or medals got you a chick?”
The other two’s silence spoke volumes as they searched for a proper comeback.
He began to notice the small changes, like when they met again in a hallway. She greeted him first over Erwin and, very important detail, she still called him “captain,” but Levi swore it had an underlying sexy accent to it... or at least that’s what he liked to believe.
The first rule in the animal world is to land her interest; the second one? Maintain it. That means marking territory. This time subtly, he was not committing the same mistake twice.
How many hours was Levi sleeping to manage getting his paperwork done, his work as a captain, and trying to pay her as many visits as he could when he was over at the Capital for meetings? None, but at least he made sure a good couple of the MPs, who also walked around the hospital trying to land a nurse girlfriend, would think twice before approaching her.
“You want scones? It was my day for buying supplies for the staff room,” she commented while moving around, preparing tea. Levi was there doing paperwork he brought with him. Balancing both of their schedules wasn’t particularly easy, and perhaps that’s why their second date was just going to be a little after-work dinner.
‘Maybe... it’s my moment to casually imply that I don’t have a sweet tooth.’
“I don’t like sweet stuff, actually.”
‘...great, just great.’
The confusion was all over her face as she turned around. “Oh...” she softly frowned as she gave it a deeper thought, “...but I gifted you a cake.”
“Yeah.”
Lips pressed together as she stared at him. “You could just tell me.”
‘Yeah well, the time I tried to just tell ya, you got angry at me for a good fucking time, so perhaps it wasn’t the best idea.’
How many times had he seen the same picture he had right in front of him, only separated by a couple of steps? Eyes rolling and clicking his tongue, finding it so idiotic that it was even annoying. The only sort of speech he could come up with for his own defense was that “he wasn’t in service,” and usually they were.
Yes, they. Military police members walking around downtown without the jackets of the uniform on, but instead, the green unicorn swinging as any of their girls walked around with them on their shoulders.
There she was, the wings of freedom adorning her back. The sleeves weren’t on, just the shoulder pads casually resting on hers, preventing it from falling but not secured enough. ‘It’s like too cold... but too warm for my coat,’ she had mentioned as they exited the building, doing honor to the season where taking the winter coat early in the morning is a good idea but, by afternoon, it hangs on your arm.
“Here,” he had said, and before he knew it, he was seeing her walking slightly ahead of him with the jackets contrasting against her doveish uniform.
Marking territory, isn’t it all about that? Especially at the Capital, where all the MPs are looking at them as if they were the most absurd of all couples or perhaps it’s just plain jealousy.
“You’re going to love them! The food is so good, and the portions are huge,” she commented behind him as she guided him through streets it was rather obvious she knew better than him. As the sky turned coral, with days getting longer, the golden hour only helped highlight how cute he found her like that.
‘I’ve become what I swore to destroy...’
“I’m asking for a small one because if I eat too much, I am gonna fall asleep, and today I’ve got night service,” she commented, looking at the options at the street stand.
‘Thank god her suggestion wasn’t some stupidly fancy shop at Mitras that would force me to eat plain rice for the rest of the month.’
“You work tonight?” he commented back as he decided what to eat.
“Yes, there are a lot of mothers who reported feeling contractions. I may be working all night,” she replied before pointing, “If you like spicy, those sauces are great.”
He handed the money to the owner as he received both options and passed hers forward with his left hand.
“Thank you~” she sang, smiling back at him.
“You’re welcome,” he muttered as he put away the change back in his wallet.
‘Havin’ a girlfriend is expensive.’
He felt the tug from his arm as she gripped his hand and began to guide him. “Come on, I know a good spot at the park,” she said enthusiastically as she hand-hold dragged him.
Her hand felt stupidly soft against his, he thought, and delicate as if the absurd feeling of breaking it crossed his mind.
‘...but 100% worth it.’
He let her drag him, mostly because she could hardly even dream of moving him if he refused, but if she wished to get him somewhere, he would just let her have it.
‘I’ve to give it to them... the Capital is full of classist snob jerks, but the places are fucking nice,’ he thought, recalling how the downtown closer to the Scouts’ facility at
Wall Rose always smelled like horse dung, the little poor town always looked a bit grey, and there wasn’t much to do there. In contrast, the huge park with well-kept green grass, flowers, kids with expensive uniforms, statues, and decorated benches like the one they were sitting on marked a difference, especially since that place received the early spring sun directly.
‘There go my taxes.’
“MH-” she hummed, passing down a bite from her meal, “You want to taste mine?”
Pushing her option in his direction for him to take a bite, Levi checked their surroundings and felt the shame of perhaps someone seeing him doing that, but he soon began to suspect that keeping a relationship would require him to start doing a lot of embarrassing stuff. He took one bite and hummed in agreement.
Swallowing, he said with his usual monotone voice, “Wanna taste mine?”
As she bent forward to take a bite, Levi forced himself to look away as perhaps there were too many kids around to even think it.
‘Why when she offers it, it’s cute, and when I do it, I sound like a fucking pervert?’
“Mhhm, very good, I like yours. It’s more creamy!”
‘...stop it, please.’
As they ate, he asked, “Do you like kids?”
She turned around, confused, almost shocked. “Fuck—no. I didn’t mean it like that,” Levi quickly realized how odd that sounded. “I mean, the Midwife path is hard, so you must like kids a lot.”
‘I mean if you want to reply to the other question, it’s also valid... I like kids very fucking much, let me know when you’re willing to start practicing,’ he thought.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, understanding he referred to their previous conversation about her prospects of work tonight. “I became an orphan very young; both of my parents were very old when they decided to have me, so they passed away before I finished my studies. And midwifery is a very necessary but judged profession. Most of my coworkers can’t do it because their husbands or fathers think it’s inappropriate for a girl to be around strangers’ houses in the middle of the night.”
“So... since I’ve nobody to tell me what I can or can’t do, I decided I should do it,” she replied to him. “This is a good time to tell you, I guess, that I’m not dropping my career.”
Levi shook his head. “I don’t mind it.”
“That’s why I went to Erwin’s office the other time,” she commented, making Levi frown, recalling the scene. “He was helping me write a project to present to the higher ranks.”
Her enthusiasm dropped slightly. “But... they didn’t accept it. I felt so bad.”
“Ah, that was why you were all weeping when we returned from the expedition?” he dropped the detail, but mostly because the idea was still lingering in his head.
One hand covered her mouth, and then she blushed. “Ah! You saw that?! So embarrassing,” she said, giving a subtle little hit on his arm playfully. “Why didn’t those morons accept it?”
She shrugged with a soft sigh. “They said something about the government resources not being enough for that proposal.”
“Tch, they have money for their stupid events but not for this? What did you propose?”
“Ugh... mh.hmp,” she seemed reluctant to reply and hummed incoherently. “I... don’t want to offend you.”
Levi frowned deeply but raised a single eyebrow as a silent question.
“It was about doing campaigns of pre-natal check-ups on the underground pregnant women. Sometimes they have difficult pregnancies, and the lucky ones are dragged up here if they have some connections when the situation is already unsalvageable. The pre-natal non-permanent posts are all around the walls except there... but, well, I told you their resolution,” she scratched the side of her neck nervously as she explained.
“Probably because we will have to bring security to go, and MPs do not want to participate.”
“Why would that offend me?” Levi spat out the question as her nervousness appeared ridiculous.
“Oh well... I thought that perhaps it’s a sensitive topic for you, and I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”
“I’m not that soft,” Levi replied quietly, but he felt completely different. He knew she was kind-hearted, but it warmed him that, despite the idea not reaching far, at least there were people trying to change something. “You should keep trying until those assholes listen to you.”
She hummed positively. “You could try to change their minds,” she suggested between chuckles.
Levi scoffed. “Talk to Erwin; he’s the one who doesn’t allow me to beat their asses.”
‘Everything is going so well... it’s suspicious.’
“Oh! Careful!” she said, catching his attention before she ran her finger through his chin and then sucked it clean. “You’re going to dirty your shirt’s neck.”
‘... just let me fuck you already, I’m on my knees.’
“I was thinking...” she started, turning around to look at him, doll eyes and a cheeky smile. “Maybe we could hang out this upcoming weekend. The celebrations for the king’s coronation will be ongoing all night all around the walls. I thought that maybe we could stroll around too.”
Levi was already sweating cold; she was taking the initiative, inviting him out... there was only one issue.
“Wouldn’t it be nice?”
“Ehm—”
‘Think of an excuse, you asshole.’
“I... I actually have to stay at my place that weekend,” he said, but his last words were quickly followed by a soft pout, puppy eyes, and a subtle “Ow,” from her. Levi wasn’t usually a person to give excuses or unnecessarily explain himself.
‘Oh shit, it’s not that I don’t want to—it’s just that—’
“I had this stupid invitation to the higher-ranks party whatsoever and—”
‘And I’m kinda escaping my responsibility of attending that shitty party that’s why—oh... oh no,’ he thought.
Her eyes began to shine, and the smile returned to her features. “Oh my god, you’re going to the official party?”
‘No... no I wasn’t going—that’s the whole point,’ he thought.
“I always wanted to go to one of those,” she said with a dreamy stare, her voice subtle and soft, almost begging but not quite.
‘No, for fuck’s sake, don’t look at me like that.’
—
“These are the preparations for the upcoming week, and I’ve already reviewed your paperwork, and they seem alright,” Erwin reorganized the piles of paper in front of him quickly for the other soldier.
Slender fingers picked it up, returning to the door’s direction, yet the pace was rather odd, and the fingers tapped the new papers with uneasiness. Erwin didn’t pay it much mind as he returned to filling out the multiple letters he needed to get ready so they would be sent first thing the upcoming morning. Spreading dust over the black ink so it would dry quicker, his movements were controlled yet rushed.
“So... I was wondering... do you still have that invitation?”
Those words made the blond freeze up mid-movement. He slowly looked up at Levi, who was standing in the middle of his office. Each second that passed, announced by the clock, changed the Commander’s expression from confused to angry as his thick eyebrows drew together.
Straightening up but not saying a word, his fingers intertwined. “Tell me, Levi... how many years have you worked with the scouts?”
“Tch,” Levi switched his weight from one leg to the other, arms crossing on top of his chest. Levi rolled his eyes, annoyed, “What does that even matter? Five.”
“Ah, yes, I see,” Erwin muttered as if he didn’t already know the answer. “And how many balls, parties, and official events have you been invited to?”
The Captain had a feeling where this was going and only frowned deeply. “Many... all of them.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” the blond confirmed slowly as if the information needed to sink in. “You see, I’m asking because it seems like I must be losing my memory... because I can’t recall a single damn time you went to any of those events without me having to coerce you into it.”
“When I don’t go to those shitty events, it’s about me not supporting the scouts. When I decide to fucking go, it’s also an issue?”
“No, no, no, no,” Erwin clicked his tongue repeatedly, “You didn’t decide to go... she wants to go, isn’t it?”
Silence. Reigning silence.
“Are you making me a jealousy scene?” Levi raised an eyebrow, confused.
“No, I just can’t believe that as your boss and friend, I’ve begged you all this time to go to those events, and you’re going because a girl—my friend—asked you to. You’re so henpecked it should give you secondhand embarrassment.”
“Fine! Yes, yes, I’m doing it for her. Happy?” Levi replied, offended. “In a week and a half, we’re leaving for an expedition, and I’ve not even seen a shitty ankle! Fucking excuse me for trying to get laid before I risk my life out there with one of your suicidal plans! Maybe I should get out of here and ask Mike what type of stupid bullshit you did to get Marie’s attention.”
The battle of stares was over when, reluctantly, Erwin pulled out the invitation from his drawer and handed it over, “Here, thank you for reconsidering it.”
“You’re welcome... I’m in favor of the plans for the upcoming expedition, by the way,” Levi walked back to the desk to pick up the letter and replied as he took the piece of paper with him.
“Glad to hear.”
And the two of them carried on with their responsibilities as if neither of them had ever mentioned anything.
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!
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sassy — park jongseong
pairing: husband!jay x wife!reader
genre: fluff, crack
synopsis: jay trying to re-gain his dramaqueen daughter’s attention after she got mad at him.
the kitchen was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla and sugar, mixing perfectly with the soft hum of the oven. you glanced over at your daughter, who stood on a small stool next to you, her tiny hands busy rolling cookie dough into little balls. her brows were furrowed in concentration, but there was no hiding the little pout that had settled on her lips ever since jay had told her she couldn’t help him earlier.
jay stood a few steps behind, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the two of you. “princess,” he started softly, trying to catch her attention, “i’m sorry, okay? daddy just didn’t want you to get hurt.”
she ignored him, huffing dramatically as she placed another cookie on the baking sheet. “mommy says i can help her,” she said, her voice holding that unmistakable sass she’d developed lately.
you stifled a laugh, not wanting to encourage her but also finding the whole situation too adorable. “she’s right, you know,” you said, glancing over at jay with a small smile. “i’m keeping her away from the hot stuff.”
jay sighed, knowing he was going to have to work harder to win back his little girl’s favor. “i know, i know,” he mumbled, stepping closer. “but can daddy at least help now? i miss baking with my favorite girls.”
his daughter finally looked up at him, her big eyes narrowing as if she was considering his request. after a moment, she sighed, crossing her little arms over her chest. “only if you say sorry again,” she demanded, her tiny voice serious.
“i’m really, really sorry,” jay said, kneeling down to her level. “i promise next time i’ll let you help more. deal?”
she seemed to think about it for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “deal,” she agreed, reaching out to pat his cheek like she’d seen you do countless times.
jay couldn’t help but grin, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead before standing up. “thank you, princess,” he said, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.
the three of you continued baking, your daughter’s earlier grumpiness completely forgotten as she giggled and chatted with both of you, her mood lifting with each cookie she helped make. jay couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the clock every now and then, knowing that 8 pm was just around the corner. it was their special time, and he needed it more than anything.
as the last batch of cookies went into the oven, you caught jay looking at the clock again. “don’t worry,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “you’ll get your cuddle time.”
he smiled sheepishly, feeling a little silly for being so anxious about it. “i just… i don’t want to miss it,” he admitted.
you reached out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “you won’t,” you promised, your eyes warm and understanding. “and i’m sure she’s looking forward to it just as much as you are.”
sure enough, as the clock struck 8, your daughter was already climbing onto the couch, her small frame getting comfortable among the pillows. jay quickly followed, scooping her up into his arms and settling down beside her. she snuggled up against him, her earlier sass completely replaced by the soft, sleepy demeanor that always appeared around this time.
you watched them with a smile, feeling your heart swell at the sight of the two most important people in your life. jay met your gaze, his eyes full of love and contentment as he wrapped his arm around his little girl. “come join us,” he whispered, patting the spot next to him.
you didn’t need any more convincing, slipping onto the couch and nestling in beside them. your daughter yawned, her eyelids already drooping as she mumbled something about cartoons. jay reached for the remote, putting on her favorite show, but it didn’t take long before her breathing evened out, the steady rise and fall of her chest signaling that she was fast asleep.
jay sighed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “thanks for letting me make it up to her,” he whispered to you, his voice filled with gratitude.
“you’re a great dad,” you whispered back, leaning your head against his shoulder. “she just likes to remind you who’s really in charge sometimes.”
he chuckled softly, knowing you were right. “yeah, she’s definitely got your spirit.”
“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you teased, closing your eyes as the warmth of the moment wrapped around you like a blanket.
the three of you stayed like that, cuddled up on the couch, the soft glow of the television casting a gentle light over the room. and in that quiet, peaceful moment, jay couldn’t imagine anything better.
do not copy or reblog my work — @/jaysng
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fluff#enha#enhypen smut#park jongseong#jay fluff#park sunghoon#sunghoon#enhypen jay#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts
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Help Wanted
word count: 656 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.
pairing: University AU!Tendou x chubby!Reader
genre: smut
warnings: mdni, nsfw
Tendou would have liked to say that he was a gentleman. But when you showed up in his dorm room and announced that you were sick and tired of being labeled the campus virgin and begged your best friend to just have sex with you, Tendou didn’t actually hesitate for more than three seconds before shrugging and saying, “Alright.”, making room for you on his bed.
His roommate blinked at the two of you before packing up his laptop and mumbling something about “going to study at the library then”.
He knew he should have maybe talked you out of it but his mind was too busy screaming at the opportunity. He figured, he’d casually invite you for coffee afterwards in the cafeteria or maybe order a pizza and then confess to you over some melty cheese that he’s been in love with you since that time you used red hair spray to dye your hair, just so you could raise your hand for him at roll call while he was busy finishing up a paper in the library at the last minute. You had worn one of his hoodies (a new one he bought several sizes too big just so he could lend it to you without you commenting that his stuff wouldn’t fit you) and his roommate had walked in on him sniffing the collar with deep deep breaths.
And now he lay between your plush thighs, heart pounding, licking his lips in anticipation as he peeled your panties aside. You’re still wearing a shirt which he found unfortunate but there was no rush.
Before he began, he stressed how important it was to ease into it. He didn’t want to hurt you, of course, so he thought, good long foreplay and maybe making you cum first would be a good idea.
He leaned in and set a couple soft kisses on your soft pussy. You gasped and tried to close your legs with him still at work. He looked up at you, asking if you want to stop. Wordlessly, you just opened your legs again and he grinned, swiping his tongue through the folds.
“You taste sweet…”, he commented and you hid your face under your arms but moaned when he used his fingers to expose your clit.
Wanting to make it a more interactive learning experience he brought his right index to your lips, “Can you wet that for me?”
You hesitate for a moment, peaking out from under your chubby arms and then because you really needed to him to continue, sucked it into your mouth.
“Mmmh, I can only imagine what those lips would do to a cock. But we can do that next time.”
Bringing his slick finger down to him, he began ghosting it over your clit. The noises falling from your lips had him throb in his boxers. Tendou increased the pressure ever so slightly, pushing the little pink button to the left and right, watching happily now wet you already became. He slurped loudly, enjoying every drop of you like the first iced tea of the summer.
“I’m gonna put a finger into you now.”, he announced and your expression, already so deliciously dazed, changed to new excitement. You gave a small nod and he slowly pushed into you, stroking your gummy walls.
“You’re so cute… I’m gonna put a second finger in, okay?”
You nod again. This time, he decided to tease a bit.
“You gotta talk to me, gorgeous.”
“Yes, please put a second finger in.”, you replied breathily and moaned loudly when he started to move them in and out.
“Now, I wonder what would happen if I’d suck your little clit now, too. - What do you think would happen?”
“I’d…. You’d make me cum.”, you said quietly, a definite whine in your voice.
“That sounds like fun. Let’s do that, hm? Let’s make you cream on my fingers.”
#tendou x chubby reader#tendo x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#tendou smut#tendou x reader#hq tendou#haikyuu tendou#tendou satori#tendo x reader#haikyuu tendo#hq tendo#tendo satori#tendo smut#haikyuu x curvy reader#haikyuu x y/n
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Hii I was wondering if you’d write gang when it’s your birthday? I think it’s be really cool since my birthdays the 27th!! (your inbetween pony and Johnny age wise)
the gang on your birthday (request)
pairings: ponyboy x reader, johnny x reader, sodapop x reader, darry x reader, dally x reader, two-bit x reader, steve x reader (separate platonic)
warnings: cussing
authors note: i won’t be posting anything friday to monday, im going camping! sorry about that, happy birthday! i hope you enjoy 💗
word count: 0.8k
PONYBOY CURTIS
pony looks up to you because you’re a bit older than him and probably the best role model out of the gang
as he can’t get you much because he doesn’t have a job and he doesn’t have money, he’ll somehow get you a book and write you a poem or letter
writing things is like his love language, if he gives you a note or writes a poem or a letter for you, he wrote it with his whole heart
he doesn’t really think much about getting you food or bringing you somewhere, it’s more about giving you something he took time to make
JOHNNY CADE
johnny can’t give you much because he doesn’t have money, will probably steal something from a store or restaurant for you
but he’ll talk with you late at night at the lot, feeling sorry he can’t get you much
you appreciate that he risks getting in trouble just so the two of you can talk for longer, doesn’t necessarily do much for your birthday though
instead of giving you a lot of items and money for your birthday, he talks to you a lot throughout the day about how old you are
SODAPOP CURTIS
on your birthday, soda gives you a cute letter and bakes you cupcakes or a small cake only for you
probably arrives at your house and wakes you up just to say happy birthday, a rainbow party hat on his head and a party horn
makes it everyone’s deal that it’s your birthday, takes you to do crazy stuff in restaurants and gets you food for free because ‘it’s your fucking birthday’
also makes you feel like you’re the most special person in the whole world on your birthday, basically gives you nearly everything you want because it’s your day
DARRY CURTIS
darry probably makes you chocolate cake or cupcakes with his ingredients, although whenever you come over, you have chocolate cake, it feels special when you have it on your birthday
because you’re young, he’ll rant about how you should cherish your days, it won’t be soon before all your time is gone and to take advantage of being young and having fun
sometimes his family would go out and get food for him and his brothers birthdays, so he gets you food or a little snack
he’ll get you a letter too, it says something like how you’re a good kid and and you can come to him if you ever need to
DALLAS WINSTON
dally hardly even celebrates his birthday, so if he gets you something or remembers, you’re lucky
he probably swipes you a gift from your favorite shop, he doesn’t care enough to pay for it and is more focused on getting to you than how he got the item
he might get you a letter if your relationship is truly important to him, writing only a few words, believing it’s the thought that matters
tells you that you better appreciate it, if you voice that you don’t, he’ll say something about his parents never getting him anything for his birthdays
TWO-BIT MATHEWS
two-bit tries to make you as annoyed but as happy as you can on your birthday, also making it everyone’s business
tries to get you as much as you can just by telling people ‘oh, yeah, it’s her birthday. how old are you turning again? wow you’re super old!’ even though he’s older than the seniors as a junior
swipes you a ton of random shit, brings you to the drive in just to mess around with some socs
he either babies you or treats you like an adult just to make you annoyed, he’ll do whichever one gets you ticked off, telling you, “soon enough, you’ll be able to drink beer! man, i’m gettin’ old.”
STEVE RANDLE
steve gives you some money so you can get something you want for your birthday
doesn’t really do much for your birthday, he might give you a letter or a note of some sort but very few words
at most, he’ll take the day off to hang out with you on your birthday
or if you really want to you could hang out with him at the DX and take a lot of free stuff, he lets you because it’s your birthday
#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders#winstonsns#ponyboy curtis x reader#ponyboy michael curtis#the outsiders ponyboy#ponyboy x reader#johnny cade the outsiders#the outsiders johnny#johnny cade x reader#sodapop curtis x reader#johnny cade#the outsiders sodapop#sodapop x reader#the outsiders darry#darry curtis#darry curtis x reader#dally winston x reader#the outsiders dally#dallas winston#dally winston#dallas winston x reader#the outsiders two bit#two bit the outsiders#two bit x reader#two bit mathews#steve randle x reader#the outsiders steve
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Hi I’m the OP who requested the recovered Curly hcs and I LOVE THEM SM!!! It’s so cute how clingy he became and how he tried to make amends for his inaction he absolutely would!!! There needs to be more love for disabled characters ✨✨✨✨
I’m going to take you up on your offer for a first time meeting after his recovery if you don’t mind your writing is so lovely!!! Maybe something about them meeting and their first date
Also age gap…40s/middle aged curly and late 20s reader… middle aged men save me ough
first meeting/dating recovered grant curly.
sfw— lowercase intended ^_^
fem reader —
requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^
notes; hi anon! this has been sitting at the bottom of my inbox. just decided to work my way up. sorry this is late haha i hope you enjoy nonetheless. writing for recovered curly is very, very fun. i’ll admit that.
— i think id take him a couple years, closer to a decade, to start dating again! he doesn’t wanna burden anyone with his emotional state, so he’d wanna make sure he’s okay and happy before doing so.
— i like to think you guys met naturally. no dating apps, he’s too old for that. perhaps you guys frequent the same hospital, like you have an older relative there you see from time to time. whatever it is, he managed to land a date!
— he’d be so nervous! not in an insecure way, but in a, “it’s been a long time since i’ve done something like this.. i can’t mess it up.”
— he’d want to talk to you, get to know you just a little more than average before asking you out. yes, he’d ask you out. he wouldn’t be offended if you asked him out (and he’d actually appreciate it a ton) but he’s the guy! he’s supposed to be courting you.
— he’s traditional, so maybe a coffee shop- or lunch out. or in people-pleasing curlys case; whatever you wanted to do! even a walk in the park would suffice. and of course he’d always grab the check.
— he’s the type to ask very important questions on a first date. he never wants to waste anyone’s time, or waste his as well. like, what’s it you’re looking for? what do you value? just stuff like that. but only if the mood calls for if, if the date is very, very casual- then he’d bring it up later.
— he’d also ask you if you’re okay with how he looks. again, he isn’t insecure, but he understands the culture we live in.. but he’s certain you don’t mind, since you’re literally on a date together..
— would insist on taking you home, to make sure you get home safe. that’s a man’s job after all. he’d wait for you to walk in, and even then just wait a tinsy bit longer to make sure you’re 100% okay.
— he’d text you the morning after to make sure you slept well, ask you how you felt about the date and such. he’d ask for a second if you give a good response. this time something less formal, like maybe at a garden nearby- or at a bookstore.
— i think he’s really, really into books. he’d be so happy if you read anything he recommended. he’s a considerate man, so all your preferences would be taken into account.
— kisses on the cheek, or on the hands.. he’s a very sweet guy. won’t be so touchy if you resist in any way, but if you allow him, he’ll be all over you.. loves holding your hand! wouldn’t be afraid to initiate it first.
— he would send roses/your favorite flowers to your workplace! maybe a bit early on, when you start dating. he’s a very romantic man, and he isn’t afraid to show you that.
— he’s very particular about sending flowers. would understand flower meanings and everything! classic roses is always a good pick, but further on he’d move onto other things. like red carnations for when you’re on a business trip of some sorts.
— first kiss on the lips would be, a bit emotional for him, maybe? it’s been a long while since he’s done any of that, really, so the fact he can experience what love feels like again at such an older age? he feels lucky, very lucky.
— of course a fancy dinner date would come much sooner rather than later. would do many things to see you in a fancy dress, eating nice food. he’d feel so proud to be seen with you, how pretty you are.. and he can’t wait to spoil you for the rest of his days.
#nomnompyon#mouthwashing#mouthwashing fic#mouthwashing x reader#captain curly x reader#curly x reader#curly grant x reader#curly headcanons#grant curly x reader#captain curly
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Take Me*
Summary: An extra for Teach Me*
The one where you and your best friend, Harry, decide to move in together.
And christen every inch of the new apartment.
Word Count: 4.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
“Harry, you can’t be serious—”
“I am. Sit.”
With a huff, you step closer to where he’s lying on the floor, those beautiful, big green eyes peering up at you. “We have a ton of work to do, okay? And the movers will be here any minute—”
“Don’t care.” He shifts a bit, back arching from the carpet as he smooths his shirt down, getting ready. “Sit.”
Your hands find your hips and you toss him an amused frown. “Harry—”
He grabs your ankles. Tugs until you lose your balance and go crashing to the ground. And he catches you, palms on your waist to make sure you’re steady before sliding them down to your thighs.
“Harry—”
“Shh. I’m busy.”
He pulls you to his face, fingers slipping around the crotch of your large cotton shorts until he can pull them aside. He smirks when he sees there’s nothing else underneath.
“Well, well, well,” he tsks, and you could smack the dimples off his face. “Seems you forgot something.”
You snort. “All of my underwear is packed, okay—”
“Sure.” He grins. “Yeah, no, I’m sure that’s it. I’m sure you definitely didn’t think to leave any out for today. Especially since we’re doing so much packing. And moving. And running around.”
Your expression gives you away. As does the subtle whine that rips free when he lets the tip of his nose ghost across the tender skin of your leg. “Harry…we can’t—”
“We can.” His voice is resolute as he trails his lips closer to your cunt. Tongue licking his bottom lip in anticipation. “This is our place, baby. We can do whatever we fucking want.”
Our place. It makes your heart as warm as your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile.
It’d taken a bit of convincing from Harry to get you to move in with him. But after some extensive apartment hunting, you both found the place you wanted to call home.
And now, here you are, in your new home. Surrounded by boxes and somewhat empty rooms as Harry insists on christening this new adventure with you by having you sit on his face.
In fact, you’d no sooner walked through the door and set some of your stuff down before he suggested it.
And proceeded to throw himself onto the ground in wait.
“Harry,” you try again. A desperate whimper that seems to urge him on.
“Darling,” he retorts, fingers curling around your skin as he plants you above his mouth. “Just let me have a taste, hm? Wanna remember today like this.”
And you’re barely able to reply with a fatigued nod before he yanks you down and sucks you between his lips.
He starts fast. Quick licks to your folds and clit. Just enjoying you. Enjoying how easily you fall apart. Your hands in his hair, scratching and pulling. The pain.
He loves the pain.
Teasing you is far too easy. Circling your hole, feeling you out, flicking the delicate nerves. But the sounds of his lapping at you like a dying man with a drink of fresh water is excruciating.
It echoes around the empty room and it’s so very loud. But it’s everything. And he’s beautiful. And he’s doing this to you purely for his own enjoyment. He loves to taste you. Loves to make you squirm on his face as you plead with him for mercy.
Everything is wet. So goddamn wet. Your pussy, his mouth, his face. He's not trying to remain poised. Not trying to keep clean. He wants all of it. Wants to share his saliva with your already soaked pussy and drink you down until there's nothing left. Let his tongue slip in, out, and through you until you can't breathe. Until he can't breathe.
His hand suddenly smacks your thigh. Once. Twice. Three times, and the sting makes you clench around the little bit of his tongue he’s taunting you with.
He grins. “Keep going, baby. Ride my tongue. Go.”
So, you do. Hands finding the floor beside his head as you roll your hips over his face. Over and over until you feel dizzy. Until his hold on your body is the only thing keeping you upright.
It’s sinfully sweet, but before you can really lose yourself in his lips, you hear the giant moving truck parking down below. Hear the men opening the large door as they begin unloading your furniture and carrying it inside.
However, Harry doesn’t seem to be stopping, and the idea that these men will hear you as they approach is mortifying. But just when you think it’s game over, he nips your clit with his teeth and pulls.
Dazed, you smack your palm over your mouth and cry out, the orgasm ripping through you. You feel weak, nearly wilting in his hold as he struggles to keep you up right. Smirking with endless amounts of satisfaction as your thighs squeeze his head.
The moment you’ve caught your breath, there’s a knock on the door, and Harry chuckles as he calls, “Just a minute.”
He gently pinches your leg and readjusts your shorts before he’s dragging you down for a kiss. Palm around the back of your neck as he slips his tongue in beside yours. Allowing you a taste and then some.
And you whimper through every second of it before he’s suddenly popping off your mouth with a gleeful hum and jumping onto his feet to answer the door.
Leaving you to sit on the apartment floor with your heart in your throat.
“Bee, shit…fuck, I can’t…I can’t—”
“You can. Know you can, baby. M’so close…just hold on a little longer for me, okay?”
Harry’s eyes roll back while his arms tug on the heavy rope keeping him tied to the headboard.
His expression is pained but blissfully fucked. Sweat collecting in his hairline as his swollen lips part for a desperate groan.
You figured this was the best way to break in the new bedding you’d purchased for the room. The beautiful king-sized mattress with a sturdy headboard.
And after seeing him flop down onto the freshly washed duvet, you knew what you wanted to christen next.
So, you’d grabbed the restraints and wrestled his wrists to the bars. Keeping him stuck as you begin yanking his pants down his legs.
He was intrigued, to say the least. And more than willing to put the control in your hands once you grabbed the cock ring.
But he had no idea what you really had in store.
“Bee,” he tries again, gasping the closer he gets to his orgasm. Watching as your tits bounce directly in his face. “Bee, please…please, lovie—”
“I know,” you coo, one hand scratching down his chest while the other squeezes your nipple between determined fingers. “Soon, I promise. Doing so fucking good—”
“Shit.” His head drops back as his hips buck up. Body wrecked with inescapable pleasure that he can’t seem to find.
You’ve kept him edged for almost an hour now. First by taking him into your mouth and sucking him right to the brink before leaving him there.
Then by fucking yourself with his cock, hard and with fervor only to pop off just when he was about to cum.
And finally, to really make sure he got the most of your torture, you’d slid on the vibrating cock ring, and began bouncing on him again.
He’s felt you cum around him twice already, and each time, it’s nearly killed him. Because it’s brought him that much closer before abandoning him there.
You have to admit, he’s doing incredibly well. Even when he had the chance to cum, he held back as best he could. Obeying your instructions as you got the most of his prolonged erection.
And he loves it. Loves when you use him as your own personal toy. Perhaps even more than you love it.
“Can’t…fuck, can’t hold it,” he pants, eyes pleading with you before he looks down at where your cunt is sliding down his incredibly hard cock. “Shit…shit, please. Bee, please. Do anything…anything, please—”
“Anything?” you hum, biting back a smile as you roll your hips forward just to hear him whimper.
He nods quickly. “Yes, anything. Fucking anything you want, swear…I swear…”
He sounds so depraved like this. A submissive tone of voice that breeds a certain yearning deep in your stomach.
You love this man. Love how beautiful he sounds when he’s begging. Love that you get to live with him and start a new chapter of your lives together.
You’ve never felt so lucky.
“Okay, baby,” you murmur, lifting yourself off as he whines quietly and glances down at the arousal you've left behind on his cock. “M’gonna take the ring off, okay? And I want you to tell me where you wanna cum—”
“In you,” he says before you can even finish the question. “Fucking please, Bee. Please let me cum in you. Please…be so good. Need…need to cum in you.”
You grin. “In me where, hm? You want my throat?”
His head shakes, lips pushed into a pout.
“No?” You slide the toy up the length of him, making him hiss through gritted teeth. “Do you wanna cum in my pussy, then, sweet boy?”
He makes another noise that nearly breaks your heart as you toss the ring to the other side of the bed and return to him. “Yes…shit, yes. Please…please—”
“So pretty when you’re polite, you know that?” you hum, reaching out to cup his cheek.
In turn, he nuzzles into your palm, seeming to settle gratefully. Looking at you like you paint the stars in the sky.
You take hold of him in your other hand and guide him back to your fluttering hole. “Okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, yeah? Give me all of it.”
He steels himself, attempting to straighten up despite the way he’s bound. Placing his feet flat on the mattress while your knees come down beside his hips.
It doesn’t take long for him to reach that inevitable end. Only a few thrusts up into you as you clench around him until he’s finishing. And you don’t even mind because he feels so good. Fucking love the way he spills inside of your cunt. The way it drips back out the minute you lift up. The way it looks, smearing across your thighs and the tip of his cock.
You both moan rather lewdly, surely horrifying your new neighbors, but you don’t mind. Because this is everything you’ve ever wanted.
Everything.
“Har? You awake?”
The perpetually sleepy man hums as he nuzzles his face further into your neck. One arm draped over your stomach while the other is tucked beneath your neck. “Yeah.”
You smirk. “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it. Do you wanna go to bed?”
His head shakes slowly as he takes another deep breath, lashes fluttering against your skin. “No, m’fine. Just comfortable.”
You reach out to brush your fingers through his curls, smiling when you hear him sigh contently. “We can finish the movie another time, H. Come on, let’s go to bed—”
His grip constricts around your hip as he keeps you planted to the sofa. “No,” he repeats, lips disappearing into your shoulder. “No, we spent all day getting the TV and speakers set up. Wanna sit here with you and enjoy it.”
“But you’re not enjoying it. You’re sleeping,” you insist playfully. “We can finish it tomorrow, really—”
“No,” he breathes. Unrelenting. “This couch is really comfy and if you move, I’ll cry.”
You grin a bit bigger. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
The next couple of minutes are quiet. His face is still nestled just beneath your jaw. Happy. But he’s not watching a single thing that’s happening on the screen and you have to bite back a laugh.
You love a lot of things about Harry, but one of them is his inability to admit when he’s tired. He’ll keep himself awake all night before he’ll acknowledge how sleepy he really is. In fact, he could be mid-yawn and still insist he’s fine.
However, just when you think he’s begun to drift off, you feel the hand on your hip smooth down your stomach. Stopping near the band of your sweatpants—almost innocently—before quickly dipping inside.
Warm fingers dance beneath the lace of your underwear until they can find your folds. A mindless action. Stroking softly and without devious intent. Almost as if touching you just to touch you.
You press your cheek into the top of his head. “Whatcha doin’?” you whisper.
“Nothing,” he hums. “S’just comfortable.”
“Touching me is comfortable?”
He nods once and continues gently moving his digits up and down. “I like playing with you. Makes me feel relaxed.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Like a stress ball but better.”
You lightly scratch your nails down his scalp. “You’re cute.”
“And you’re soft,” he murmurs, taking a deep, content breath. “Always so soft, Bee. And warm. Have no idea how good you feel.”
“I mean, I have some idea,” you tease. “It’s not like I haven’t touched myself before.”
“Funny.” His movements are lazy. There’s no alternative motive, he simply wants to feel you. “M’very happy.”
Your heart leaps into your throat as you glance down. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He rolls his head back to meet your eye. “Wanna warm my fingers in you…can I?”
There’s a racing in your chest that can’t be contained as you nod and spread your left leg a little further. Allowing him the room he needs while he pulls his hand out and sticks two fingers into his mouth.
He sucks on them slowly, coating them just so before dipping back in and smoothing the soaking digits down to your hole.
You exhale shakily at the feel of him stretching you slowly. The way your body draws him in, bends to his intentions. Clenches around him and keeps him warm.
He makes a satisfied noise of approval before nuzzling his face back into your neck, seemingly oblivious to the way you’re beginning to squirm.
But after a moment, the ache begins to dull. And you feel happy to merely lay with him like this, one of his legs tucked over yours, his fingers sitting deep in your cunt.
It’s serene, this moment. Perfectly blissful and endlessly safe.
Here in his arms.
“Harry…if you don’t stop—”
“What?” His grin is cheeky as he aims the showerhead down at the tile floor, allowing the water to dance down the drain. “M’just helping you get clean.”
“No, you’re being a menace,” you correct with a smirk. “I told you, no funny business—”
“I’m not being funny.” His finger taps along the cord, almost as if readying himself. “I mean, what’s the point of having a handheld showerhead if you don’t use it?”
You can’t argue that he has a point. After all, this was one of the features that drew you to the apartment in the first place, but you also know that he’s deliberately trying to tease you. “Harry, we came in here to shower because we have to leave in thirty minutes—”
“So—”
“So we don’t have time,” you remind him, handing him the loofa. “Okay, so clean yourself off, and we can try it out another time.”
However, he doesn’t accept the sponge, instead stepping even closer to you as the stream of water begins to rise. “That was before I saw how pretty you look…all soaped up and wet.”
You shoot him an amused yet playful frown. “Har…”
“What?” His eyes travel down your dripping torso and toward your cunt, the stream seeming to follow his line of focus. “I’m just helping you rinse off. S’what you wanted, right?”
The warm water feels amazing against your skin, but the pressure feels…
Your lashes flutter as you reach back to press your hands against the shower wall, needing something to brace yourself with as he continues stepping closer. “Harry…”
“What?” he says again, but it’s soft. Dangerous. Keeping the water on your inner thighs before moving up to your clit. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”
But you couldn’t tell him even if you wanted to. Because the sensation of the pointed stream hitting you just right is turning your muscles to jello. Your vision is hazy, and your head is spinning, and your body is trembling—
“Har,” you whimper, undone by the look of adoration on his face as he loops an arm around your lower back. Holding you steady as he angles the water a bit lower. “Please…”
“Please what?” His voice is a soft purr. Sexy and silky and you feel powerless to resist him. “What do you want, Bee, hm? Tell Daddy what you want.”
Your head falls back against the tile, needing some stability. You’re too far gone, too lost in his eyes. In his need to unravel you. Legs shaking as the water does everything you need it to.
Slowly, he begins to lower himself into a crouch. Now eye level with your pussy as he readjusts his grip on the showerhead. Studying you with purpose as he works you closer.
“Come on,” he coos, glancing up through wet lashes. “Come on, lovie. Let me take care of you, yeah? Just wanna make you feel good—”
Your fingers reach for his freshly washed curls, tugging hard on the soaked strands as you whine. “Don’t stop.”
He smirks. “Never.”
With that, he lowers the water, and surges forward. Lips wrapping around your clit until you gasp out his name and thrust your hips toward his mouth.
He rotates between using his tongue and the showerhead. Pushing and pulling you toward that sweet release as all other thoughts and cares melt away.
“Just like that,” he murmurs, one hand reaching back to knead your ass in his palm. Practically tugging you down before landing a firm spank to the wet skin.
The sound echoes around the small room, the sharp contact making your pussy clench as you nearly lose your balance.
“That’s my girl.” He massages the flesh before smacking it again, and your eyes nearly roll out of your head. “Gonna cum for me, Bee?”
You nod quickly, chest heaving as you settle into the steam rising around you. “M’so close, Har…please…”
“I know,” he says, dipping down to nudge his nose against your clit. “Can see your pretty little hole fluttering for me. Just so…fucking…empty.”
Two wet fingers slip inside you, and it’s nearly impossible to remain steady with the way he beckons the orgasm out of you.
The pressure of the water against your clit, the fingers in your cunt, the goddamn smirk on his face. It’s everything and everywhere and you lose your grip on reality as you’re dragged through such euphoric harmony.
He rides you through for a couple minutes more before he’s standing back up and pressing his body into yours. Chest to chest, wet and flushed. His lips effortlessly capturing your own as you whimper against his tongue and throw your arms around his neck.
And maybe being late isn’t the worst thing.
Harry is beautiful.
In every way. And it’s not just his face or his body. But his heart. The way he speaks to you. Speaks to others. The way he carries himself, carries you. Protects you, loves you, fights for you.
The way he betters himself for you.
And now, you get to wake up to this man every day. In this beautiful new room with large windows and sunshine and promise. A moment of tranquility reserved just for you as you count the faint freckles across his nose. As you press your finger into the dimple on his cheek. As you study the rogue, messy curls that are matted to his forehead.
You could watch him sleep for hours. Would happily lay beside him until morning turned into afternoon.
But today? You have other plans.
It doesn’t take long for him to realize, eyes shooting open as you take him further down your throat.
He chokes on a strangled breath before glancing down, mouth dropping open with the sound of your name.
You pop off long enough to smile and whisper, “Morning, baby,” before you’re dragging your tongue along his tip.
His head falls back into the fluffy pillows, too heavy to stay upright. Streams of golden light dance through the curtains and hit the side of his face in the most magical way you’ve ever seen. Setting that beautifully structured profile aglow in the warm hue as he sighs gratefully.
Your hands curl around his thighs, squeezing gently as you scoot closer. Getting comfortable while you bob your head up and down the length of him.
His stomach is beautiful. Muscles quivering and skin soft. Littered with a few tattoos. The same tattoos you love to run your hands down. Your lips. Your pussy.
You could stare at him for a lifetime. And your heart feels like it’s going to burst inside your chest as you suck the man you love further into your mouth.
You love waking him up like this. Granted, it’s a rare occurrence, but each time, it’s ceaselessly enchanting.
And it’s another kink the two of you have found you adore. After giving each other consent to use the other’s body as a wake-up call, you found that there was something…safe about the experience. About knowing you trusted each other enough to allow them to decide for you.
It might not happen often, but you’re grateful for the times it does. Like now. When you get to see him look at you with lust and appreciation.
“Bee,” he whispers, reaching out to brush his hand along your head. Cupping it gently and without force. Letting you choose how much of him you want to take. “God, m’so lucky.”
You hum around him, and he groans. “Taste so good, Daddy. Just had to have a taste.”
His thumb brushes along your cheek, feeling the way it swells with his cock. “Can have anything you want, baby girl,” he sighs. “You know that. I’m all yours. Can take whatever you want, whenever you want it.”
You’d smile if you could, instead squeezing his thighs three times to tell him you love him.
“There you go,” he grunts when you lean back to spit on him. “Fucking just like that…shit. So fucking good, baby—”
Your hand works the base of him while your lips and tongue focus on the tip. Spreading the extra lubrication around until the room fills with the sound of your pumps.
His hips are bucking up, but you can tell he’s resisting the urge to drive himself into your mouth. He wants to be gentle for you. Wants you to have the control, but he’s losing the battle quickly.
So, you shoot him a soft grin, and murmur, “Fuck my throat, Daddy. Just wanna feel good for you.”
Which is all he needs to hear in order to weave his fingers through your hair and tug.
“Is that right, hm?” he whispers deviously. “Then be a good girl…and fucking take me.”
So…you do.
The paper towel roll goes flying to the floor, along with a bag of coffee grounds and the mail.
Harry has you bent over the kitchen island, cock deep in your cunt while his hand tugs on your hair.
“That’s a good girl,” he groans, forcing your cheek into the marble. “Fucking take me, Bee. Just like that.”
Your tits are pressed to the cold counter as you whimper something that resembles his name. Followed by a very lascivious moan when he angles his thrusts up.
He’s been insatiable all afternoon. Starting with eating you out at the breakfast table, just to edge you with seconds to spare.
Then, the firm smacks to your ass every time he walked by. Along with sneaking up behind you to scatter hickies along your exposed neck.
And now this.
You’d been unpacking some of the kitchen utensils and newly bought groceries when the idea hit him. Wild eyes watching you closely as you sat atop the island and rummaged through a box.
He’d slipped his way between your dangling legs and began to kiss you. Hand dancing down to your shorts to feel you out. Toying with you until you realized what he really wanted.
Not long after, he had you down on the ground. Your panties shoved around your ankles as he took you from behind.
And you figured unpacking could wait.
“Har,” you whisper now, attempting to meet his rhythm with gentle rolls of your own. “Please…”
“What, baby girl?” he coos, feet kicking your legs further apart. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
And it is. It has been ever since he started eating you out on the newly built table. Warm and deliciously skilled mouth on your cunt as the dishes and plates rattled beside you.
You’d cursed him to hell for stopping before you could finish but you’re more than grateful for his remedy now. Because while his lips and tongue are divine, his cock is what you really crave.
He pulls out and lands a firm spank to your dripping and sensitive cunt. The sensation and the sound nearly making your knees buckle until he has to slip an arm around your stomach and keep you still.
Then, he does it again. And once more for good measure before he’s driving himself back in.
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs behind you, his palm still pressed to your head to keep you down. “S’fucking pretty. This sweet little hole just takes me so well, you know that? Gets me all nice and wet. Lets me fuck it the way I want. Fucking begs for me, doesn’t it?”
You nod beneath his hold, nails scraping down the counter in bliss.
“So fucking pretty.” His other hand comes back to your thigh to squeeze it harshly before moving for your ass. Spreading you even further so he can see the way he disappears into you. “God, just like that. So cute when you’re desperate. Know you aren’t gonna last much longer, are you, lovie?”
“No,” you whimper, gasping when his cock brushes the perfect spot. “Shit, no. Can’t…can’t hold it.”
“Then you better fucking ask, hm?” he taunts, quickly yanking on your hair to force you up. “Ask me to cum. Beg me to let you cum on my cock—”
“Please,” you obey without pause. Desolate and deranged. “Please, H, please—”
“Do better,” he hisses, spanking your ass in retaliation. “Know you can do better than that, Bee. So come on, let’s hear it—”
“Daddy, please,” you correct, tears in your eyes as you try to hold back the pleasure threatening to escape. “Please, I’m so close…can’t hold it—”
“No,” he grunts, landing another smack to your skin. “Again.”
You choke on a moan and work to find the right words. Or any words at all. “Please, Daddy. Please let me cum on your cock. Need it so bad, can’t…can’t fucking stand it. Just need you, Daddy. Need you, please…”
You feel him twitch inside you before he’s growling through a clenched jaw and murmuring, “Good fucking girl…go. Right now, Bee. Fucking cum—”
And you do. Only seconds before he inevitably follows, and the overwhelming rush nearly breaks you. The way he spills inside you, the way he holds you upright, the way he presses his fingers to your clit in order to drag you even further.
He ignores your whimpers and cries for mercy, tugging your squirming frame back into his chest until you go quiet. Lips nuzzled to your cheek as he whispers, “There you go, you’re all right. Deep breath, baby. You’re okay, just want one more—”
“Daddy—”
“Shh. Just one more.” His voice is gentle although his touch is anything but. Pressing and rubbing against the overused nerves until you’re actively arching in his hold. “One more, baby girl, you can give me one more. Know you can. Doing so good—”
It doesn’t take long for the second one to find you, and you feel him smile against your jaw as you come down from his fingers.
“There you go,” he praises quietly before taking his hand away and crouching down. The tip of his tongue ghosting up your inner thigh as you sigh.
You feel him smirk.
“Now…let's do something about this mess.”
Next Part:
~ Break Me*
Previous Part:
~ Guide Me*
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream
#harry#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles fan#harry edward styles#smut#harry styles fluff#best friend!harry#harry styles concept#softdom!harry#switch!harry#sub!harry#fluff#teach me#harry and bee#softdomrry#best friendrry#subrry
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It's not really my business, but honestly it feels like it would be advisable to hire a copyright lawyer. Like I don't feel like you're in it for the money, but it might be gratifying to have the guy milking your idea at least have to formally acknowledge you. I think I'd do it just for the peace of mind to know if I've been "legally" wronged or not. Either way, hope you continue to inspire, and live out a peaceful life.
(In reference to this post about the guy who pretends to have invented “Elder Teletubbies,” specifically how he is now kickstarting DnD minis of them.)
Ha, well, it’s all a little tricky I think. I might, hilariously, post on the r/legaladvice Reddit (even though they’re all cops lol) because the only thing I want here is for him to stop selling my “transformative work,” and ideally to stop pretending he invented it (which might be difficult as he appears to fully believe his work is creatively independent.)
I think if anything, my post counts as protected commentary or a transformative work of BBC’s Teletubbies, and I think it’s stinky to profit on that stuff in general (like I’m 190% okay with buying LotR fanart on stickers ! but I wouldn’t dream of trying to publish a fic with the serial numbers filed off. Why?)
I think ultimately I’m not a grifter, I’m a grownup, and I think it’s several levels of eye roll to sell fanart of a tv show on this level. I would be embarrassed to touch money made on that. I’m too fucking scrupulous and artisanal. I have toyed with a silly original novel for funsies since 2019 but keep saying things like, “oh, people will think this is too similar to something else that already exists” as if a silly original novel I write for fun has to somehow pass a Bar of Originality higher than anything salary-writers aim for.
I’m also pretty anti-intellectual-property myself in that leftist sense where I don’t believe people should be acting as if creative works are, like, oil. Like the resource extraction angle of intellectual property freaks me out, I don’t think getting super high-horse and snotty about Magical Brain Property is entirely compatible with the artisanal temperament I personally got going on here. I am like snufkin about this, simply smoking a pipe and making a flower crown saying “poor fools! Producing works for market, and serving as the guard dogs of the market, lest their work lose value if it becomes more common!” I do not have a high horse. I am not going to post 6900 words about the importance of defending fucking… Mickey Mouse. I buy those lotr stickers on Etsy! I do have a horse, but it’s a pretty low horse.
If it was his own work I would not care about this guy doing this in the least (apart from loftily calling it stinky - but hey, nerds are common and nerds are stinky, it’s not rare) IF he wasn’t STEALING FROM MY ANTI-COMMERCIALISATION DREAM TO DO IT.
That’s the bit that PISSES ME OFF too much to ignore: that and accepting compliments for being original like 😌 yes my twisted mind did this idk lol.
Like if you asked him point blank about the artistic choices he’d be like idk my twisted mind just sees the Teletubbies this way teehee! but if you ask ME why, for example, the adult Teletubbies live in the forest I’ll explain that in 2017 I was at a major life crossroads and this dream was ABOUT that. It was goodbye to my identity as a foreigner from the pine forests, and full steam ahead to settling permanently in the fucking shire (where the baby teletubbies on the bbc show live). It was about going back to work having had my first child, and saying goodbye to my various career dreams for myself (famous scientist! Published author!) as I chose instead, finally, the responsibility of working humbly as a public servant for the actual good of society. It is about witnessing the wild and saying “I am not of it, but it is my job to be its witness and voice.” That’s why the adult Teletubbies are dancing in my native forests while I’m watching them from the English hills. This guy doesn’t know that he just vaguely heard “spooky forest cryptid” and didn’t develop it at all, I do more work than that with FANFICTION in my time off!!!
So it’s really about nebulous stuff and ethics and not something worth paying a lawyer for I think!
But thank you so much for this, I think the thing that gets most perennial about it is the TOTAL GASLIGHTING of the “outside world” of the rest of the internet like, fully believing they invented this, and they DIDNT. They’re so wrong on the internet and they don’t know
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mrs all american * fem!driver
who is that guy in the andretti racing garage?
pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver
notes: if u think u've read this before, u probably have but like,,,,,,,,,,,,, i rewrote the entire thing to fit the new vibe so hey lol
(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)
“there she is,” oscar mutters, pushing himself off the wall he’d been leaning on. “we’ve been looking for you all weekend. you’re barely around.”
the girl in her team gear, stops immediately with wide eyes and turns to her friends. “what? oh, hi.”
logan furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head. “where have you been? you’ve been so unreachable since you arrived in vegas. is everything okay?”
she tilts her head, looking curiously between her two best friends. “what do you mean? i’ve been here all weekend. maybe you guys just haven’t done enough to find me.”
she knows exactly what they’re talking about. the entire weekend, she’s been camping out in her driver’s room avoiding everyone else. for good reason: her boyfriend’s finally had the time to come out and watch a race.
not only that, she’s finally decided to just rip the bandaid off and introduce him to everyone with his consent, of course. she’d been hiding him from everyone, afraid that they might scare him off too quick with their antics and borderline insane behaviour.
logan throws his head back. “you’re being kinda weird. is somebody threatening you with something again?”
“you’re being weird,” she mutters, looking towards the andretti racing home. “i’ve just been really busy this weekend. lots of stuff for me to do and go over with sebastian.”
oscar hums, tapping a finger on his lip. “but i’ve seen liam more than you.”
“it’s just sebastian and i. racing strategies and whatnot and telling me what else i need to fix with my driving,” she shrugs. it should really be concerning that lying to them has become a common occurrence lately and it’s slowly becoming easier. but it should also be concerning that they hadn’t noticed up until this weekend the increased secrecy from her side.
though, it shouldn’t be all that shocking that they’re starting to know less and less about one another’s lives. logan has moved out, after all.
“you’re sure you’re alright?” oscar tilts his head, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “are we still going out tonight?”
“yeah, of course!” she nods a little too eagerly that she doesn’t notice logan and oscar exchange a look. “i was just busy leading up to the race. i swear i’m fine, guys.”
oscar hums. “alright. we’ll see you later for the parade.”
she takes a step back at the group of older drivers gathered outside her racing home. “what are you guys doing here?”
“p wouldn’t stop saying something about seeing a guy she’s seen on the tv in your garage earlier when she passed it,” max mutters without turning his head to look at her, just continues to crane his neck to try and make out the faces through the windows looking into the hospitality.
she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “what?”
“yeah, she told me too,” lando says, mirroring max’s actions. he tilts his head before turning around. he stands a little straighter and points at her. “we asked liam and he didn’t know who the andretti guest is. you don’t know anything about that, do you?”
she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i don’t recall having a big name guest in our side of the paddocks today.”
“really?” max turns, furrowing his eyebrows. “at all? don’t you usually know stuff?”
she shrugs and starts to walk towards the stairs leading to the main doors. “not this weekend, no. i’ve been pretty busy with my own stuff.”
lando hums and rests his hands on his hips, following her towards the door. “really? you’re not lying to us? this is important to p — you love her. just tell us who it is.”
she holds her hands in the air and laughs, turning around right before she walks in. “i’ve literally got no idea who they decided to bring in. you might have better luck with seb.”
max shakes his head, lips pursed in frustration. “we already tried asking him earlier. he doesn’t seem to know who the guest is either… how is it possible that none of you know?”
“i haven’t really paid much attention, really,” she lies with another shrug before turning on her heel. “i’ll see you guys later. save me a spot with you guys on the wee truck, okay?”
“open the door!”
she flinches from her spot on the beanbag, jumping off as she looks at the man previously cozied up with her. “that’s my teammate,” she whispers at him. “what do i do?”
matt throws his hands in the air. “why are you asking me that? like you said — it’s your teammate.”
“i have to open the door. what am i going to do?”
“well, you invited me so i could meet your friends. what’s the harm in meeting liam before the race?”
she contemplates for a second, looking up at the ceiling momentarily. “you don’t know these twats like i do, if i tell them about you now, i’ll never hear the end of it.”
he hums, scrunching his nose. “so what do you wanna do now? he’s at the door.”
“open the door, mate!” liam’s voice comes from the other side, the door rattling slightly as he knocks again. “i know you’re inside.”
“give me a fucking minute!” she screams, hurling a packet of maltesers next to her on the ground towards the door. “be patient!” she looks back at matt. “i need you to hide behind the door for now. i promise you’ll get to meet my insane teammate and friends after the race. just not now.”
he laughs, letting her pull him up from the beanbag, dragging him behind the door would wind up after she opens it. “okay, well be careful not to give too much away.”
she opens the door and fixes her hair, sighing exasperatedly. “what do you want?”
“seb said he’s been texting you to come down. they want to have one last team meeting before the driver’s parade,” liam rambles. “and what took you so long to answer the door?”
she blinks blankly at him, trying to take her brain for a believable lie. “i was finding my clothes.”
“clothes… what would… what?”
she hums, nodding. “i was naked. sorry.”
liam throws his head back with a groan. “okay, i’m sorry i bothered asking.” he turns around and takes a step towards the stairs, “seb wants you downstairs as soon as possible. i’ll see you in a bit.”
she closes the door when liam takes a step on the stairs, turning to her side and sighing heavily. she hunches over and shakes her head. “i literally hate all of them.”
“don’t be like that,” he laughs, pinching her cheek gently. “i’ll see you later, okay? before your race starts?”
she grins. “okay. blythe should be here any minute with ylona and lily then you guys can go explore the circuit again while i’m busy.” he nods, leaning down with puckered lips. she gets on her tiptoes, pressing her lips against his before opening the door again. “see ya.”
“are you hiding someone from me?” the girl, who’s just walked into the pitlane to head to the grid for the driver’s parade takes a step back with a clueless blink. “max keeps pestering me about the guest for tonight. something about p recognising the guy?”
she shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “why do you just assume i always know more than you?”
liam shrugs as well, frowning. “i don’t know. everyone’s just always asking about our guest today,” liam says with a frown.
realistically, she feels bad lying straight through her teeth to everyone. but she doesn’t need anyone messing with her when the truth happens to come out before the race starts. it’s just not something she thinks she needs.
besides, everybody will find out after the race. she will just explain herself then.
“i’ve got no idea what’s going on with our garage today,” she takes a sip from her pepsi, blinking at liam innocently. “guess we’ll find out later?”
“find what out?” oscar tilts his head as they come to a stop right by him and lando, waiting for the truck to start their lap around the track.
“why max and lando keep lingering outside our racing home today,” liam frowns. “i’m not the centre of attention and it’s simply absurd.”
lando sighs, shaking his head. “i know. i was at your side of the paddocks more than i’ve been at my own.”
she shrugs with a small grin. “someone kinda famous, i guess. according to p, at least.”
“it’s not jacob elordi again, is it?” carlos pokes his head between lando’s and hers, furrowing his eyebrows. he turns to her, met with an unamused stare and head tilt. he shrugs. “just curious. who knows if you’re seeing him again?”
she looks around their huddle, suddenly greeted by curious stares and raised eyebrows. she throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “i’m not seeing jacob again! i haven’t seen him since the miami race last year! please let it go!”
alex narrows his eyes down with a small smirk. “you sound like you know something about andretti’s special guest.”
“you liar!” liam screams.
“i don’t!” she turns to liam with her arms in the air. she turns to alex and scowls. “why are you stirring drama? i don’t know anything about who andretti’s decided to give their stupid pass to this weekend, okay?”
alex hums, pressing his lips together. “that’s not what logan told me.”
“why would logan know anything about andretti’s guest this weekend? i’ve barely seen him.”
he shrugs, “i really thought that would break you.”
“nice try,” oscar sighs, shaking his head. “you really don’t know anything?”
she shakes her head. “i really don’t. now can we please talk about something else?”
liam had been walking out of his driver’s room, on his way down for the race start when he heard two voices coming from the room next to him. normally, it would have been okay, considering he knew blythe would be around tonight.
but it’s a man’s voice, which makes it all the more intriguing.
“don’t forget to watch the purple car — i’m in the andretti, okay? not the red bull, not the ferrari or the bright papaya that’s the mclaren,” he hears her say. “you’re here to watch me.”
liam furrows his eyebrows, stepping towards the door with light feet to minimise the sounds to reduce suspicion. he presses his ear against the door.
“i don’t even know what a ferrari is.”
he hears her laugh, followed by footsteps approaching the door. “i’ll see you later, malt. love you.”
the door clicks, prompting liam to hurl himself towards the stairs leading downstairs, stumbling and sliding down a couple of steps. liam pulls himself up with the railing, trying to ignore the way he can hear the confusion as the door closes.
“what are you doing?”
liam hops up to his feet, one of his foot sliding off at the edge of the steps. he coughs to cover it up and shakes his head. “i’m just super excited to be racing in vegas.”
she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you sure? is something wrong?”
he shakes his head. “nope. nothing.”
perhaps she will break the news to him after the race? he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say that phrase to anyone, much less know anyone called ‘malt’. what even is that name? did somebody actually name their kid malt?
“you don’t have anything to ask me?” she bites down on her lip, trying to keep the laugh in.
truthfully, she had heard the door rattle a couple of times and assumed that liam was being nosey outside her driver’s room. she’s more surprised that her teammate is not probing her for a more defined answer other than a shrug.
“i guess,” liam shrugs dejectedly.
he just wants her to tell him instead of having to ask her outright.
“alright, mate,” she laughs, furrowing her eyebrows. “by the way, you’re coming for ice cream tonight, right? i’ve got someone i want you to meet.”
that’s another race she finishes on the podium, on the bottom step behind checo and max. it’s absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’s got a special guest in her garage watching, the car was just good.
she knows that because liam’s finished directly behind her. she would have given him the podium if sebastian hadn’t insisted that there’s no driver swap necessary and that it would only be riskier to do so.
she climbs out of the car, eyes crinkled towards the team gathered behind the barriers for her. she tears all of her headgear off and immediately runs forward to where her team is gathered.
“amazing!” sebastian screams, arms wide open as she starts to approach them. “good job, kid!”
she screeches, hopping over to where they are with her fists in the air. “i did it! i literally love vegas! year after year, all vegas does is give me is bangers!”
she jumps into sebastian’s arms, cheering along with her team of mechanics with their arms wrapped around her as well. “yay! another podium for me!”
she pulls away and pushes her hair away from her face and sighs. she looks around the crowd. “where’s blythe and matt? did you not bring them over?”
sebastian grins with a shrug. “they’re in the back of the crowd — blythe said she wasn’t sure if you wanted to be seen with him right now so they’re lingering somewhere back there.”
she sighs and grabs sebastian’s shoulders, nodding. “could you get them here to the front?” from the corner of her eye, she sees liam approaching her. “i’ll get back to you.”
“hey, congrats!” liam cheers, throwing himself around her and holds her tightly against him. “i know you had somebody in your room earlier and i know damn well it wasn’t blythe.”
“i know. you rattled the door with all your moving,” she whispers her answer before bubbling into a laugh. she drops her head slightly as a blush slowly creeps up her cheeks. “i’m seeing somebody.”
“i also know that,” liam grins, a hand still on the small of her back. “do i get to meet him?”
“obviously. do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him out of everyone’s sight all day?” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “i promise you’ll get to meet him.”
“hey, rocky!” she whirls back towards the crowd and shrieks at the sight of her sister, then matt standing behind her. “congratulations on the podium, mate!”
“blythe! thank you!” she hops over once more, arms held out and immediately engulfed into a hug by her younger sister. “thank you so much for coming. i know you have a tournament in a couple of days.”
blythe shrugs, grinning cheekily at her. “well, you did pay for my flight… so anything for you.”
the young girl quickly takes whatever she can of a step back and gestures for matt to take a step forward. “hey, congrats! if i didn’t know any better, i’d have said you made it on the podium to make sure everyone knew i had such an amazing girlfriend.”
she rolls her eyes, hitting him in the chest softly. “shut up,” she snorts with an eye roll before she takes a step forward to pull him in for a hug. “thank you for coming and staying all weekend to watch my race.”
“obviously, how could i not take up the chance on your paddock passes?” he whispers in her ear, pulling away. he pinches her cheeks and pulls very lightly, leaning down to mush their lips together. “thanks again, by the way.”
she giggles, cheeks flushing as she tries to ignore the flashes rapidly going off around them. “how can i not?”
“oh.” liam walks up to them and leans on the railing, looking between them. “how rude — you’re not going to introduce your teammate at all to the man you’re kissing?”
she turns around. “i have an interview to do. i’ll introduce you guys later,” she scoffs, smiling apologetically at matt before shoving liam away. she looks back over her shoulder. “i’ll be with you later again i promise.”
she doesn’t notice the dutchman awaiting his interview, eyes wide and jaw dropped at what he had just witnessed happen towards the andretti side of the area. what a revelation.
“what do we have here?” she flinches as she opens the door, taken aback by the taller man — men — who stand in the porch of the racing home with arms over their chests. matt huffs when she walks right into his body, stumbling slightly and hands coming up to grab her shoulder firmly. “i saw you kissing a man after the race.”
she lifts an eyebrow. “okay? indeed i was.”
max tilts his head with a small grin, pushing her aside. the girl stumbles over her feet, matt nervously trying to steady her by reaching out to grab her arm. max holds his hand out. “i’m max. i can fight.”
“max!” she shrieks, pushing max’s arm away before it can be grabbed cordially. “what is wrong with you? that’s not how you introduce yourself!”
but as she’s preoccupied with max, to her horror, she’s turned back around and the other 3 have already surrounded the poor boy with furrowed eyebrows and questions spilling past their lips.
who are you, where do you live, what are your intentions with rocky, how long have you known her, who even are you? and this is exactly why she hesitated even bringing him to the race to watch her.
“hey, what are you doing? stop doing that!” she cries, running back around to try and shoo off alex, george and lando who have well invaded her boyfriend’s personal space. before she can take 3 steps away, max grabs her shoulder and yanks her back toward him to hold her in place. “you guys are embarrassing me! you’re worse than my siblings!”
“oh, you’ve met her siblings!” alex cheers for a moment before wiping the smile from his face. “so? what are they gonna do to protect you? they’re so much younger.”
“hey! those are my sisters and brother you’re talking about!”
“ah, you get what i mean,” alex waves her off, snorting softly. he returns his attention to the boy with a small amused grin. “so? you plan on answering our questions, mate? we’ll be here all night if you don’t.”
the brunette grins, green eyes piercing into their own. “i’m matt cornett. i’m an actor,” he points shyly at her, held hostage by max, “she’s my girlfriend.”
“girlfriend?” lando screams incredulously, throwing his head back in disbelief. he turns to the girl and points at matt. “you found yourself a boyfriend? did you use our advice?”
she stares at them, blinking with a toothy and fearful grin. “why… would i use your shit advice?”
“why wouldn’t you?” alex furrows his eyebrows with a small scowl on his face. “you’re so bad at dating — how did you–”
“don’t you look a little familiar?” george starts softly, pointing at matt with squinted eyes. “have we met?”
“last year in vegas at the club when you dragged me out and i was the designated driver,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. “we met out in the balcony while i tried to escape the horrors of the drunk people downstairs before logan came and pulled me out to go home.”
alex turns to her stiffly with a finger pointed at her. “we weren’t talking to you.”
she raises her eyebrows. “okay, sorry i tried speaking to you. i thought we were friends.”
“we’re getting to know him. we already know enough about you,” lando adds on, waving his hand in the air to dismiss her. “how long have you guys been dating?”
“5… almost 6 months?” matt blinks, smiling slightly to mask the fear he’s slightly feeling.
“ah,” alex nods. “where’d you go take her on a date? better be a nice place — that’s the princess of the grid you’re with. we protect her. i don’t care what her parents said to you.”
“it’s true. i almost beat somebody up in some alley last year for her,” max boasts with a proud smile and his chest puffed out. “even almost sued the crap out him. i would’ve ruined that man’s life if she asked me to.”
max feels the girl patting his shoulder. “not a flex, max… stop talking.”
“we went out to this really nice place in miami,” matt starts explaining softly, choosing his words carefully. “then we went out for ice cream afterwards.”
lando hums, pressing his lips together. he squints and takes a step forward closer to matt. “what’s her ice cream order?”
“rocky road ice cream with extra marshmallows.”
george shrugs. “if he knows that already, seems like we shouldn’t be here anymore,” george turns. “see you around, mate.”
a hand forcefully turns george back to face matt. “we’re not done yet, george. stay here.”
“oh, i didn’t know you were all already here!” oscar laughs, heads turning towards the bottom of the stairs leading up the andretti racing home. “heard you were kissing a boy after the race, mate. had to come and find out what that was all about.”
she sighs, throwing her head back. “yes, there’s even photographic evidence circulating the f1 gossip pages if you look deep enough,” she answers in a deep tone to mimic oscar, “it doesn’t take a genius.”
she gestures towards matt. “my boyfriend. his name is matt.”
oscar grins. “oh, hey. what’s up, mate?”
matt opens his mouth to greet oscar and introduce himself, only to find himself cut off by max speaking out.
“have you made her cry?” max asks with wide eyes. “because one tear is every punch i get to throw without you running off to the media crying about it.”
“max–“
“oh, hey matt!” lily greets sweetly, finding her spot next to oscar on the porch, tangling herself into oscar’s arms. “did you manage to grab dinner with mick and blythe earlier? sorry i had to run.”
silence hangs in the air as lily finishes her sentence, heads turning to her with suspense. she looks around and blinks. “what?”
“you knew about matt?” oscar mutters, staring down at her blankly. “you never told me?”
lily shrugs with a polite smile. “wasn’t my relationship to hardlaunch.”
oscar shrugs, “i guess.”
only then does liam arrive with logan and ylona in tow. logan tilts his head in curiousity at the crowd that’s formed, and at the fact that his girlfriend’s just slipped out of his arms to run up the steps.
“rocky! congrats on the podium tonight!” ylona squeaks, throwing her arms around the younger girl. then she turns around with a wide smile. “sorry i couldn’t join you and blythe for dinner. lily and i had to find a bar to book a table with tonight for after the race.”
“you knew rocky’s dating matt too?” oscar almost shouts, absolutely bewildering at the vital information that seemed to be kept from them.
“rocky’s dating–“ logan finally looks past the crowd and finds the man surrounded by lando, george and alex. “didn’t we meet before? you look familiar.”
the brunette nods. “a club here in vegas this time last year.”
“wait a second,” liam puts a finger over his lip, “didn’t i meet you in new york? i took a picture of you guys, didn’t i? with rocky’s polaroid.”
matt nods again, eyes dropping to avoid the stares. “yes. i have that picture in my wallet still.”
“wait,” logan shakes his head. “you’ve met more than once in clubs?”
“well, you guys kept pulling me away rudely so we didn’t like… exchange socials until we ran into each other again in miami after my race win,” she explains softly.
logan then realises. “ylona, you knew about rocky’s boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?”
ylona shrugs, giving the same answer as lily. “not my relationship to yap about.”
max huffs. “so? what now? we just have to accept the fact you’ve got a boyfriend?”
“yes?” she cries with her arms in the air. “you guys are being so weird right now!”
— bonus
“foul,” logan mutters, shaking his head disapprovingly. “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me she has a boyfriend. when it’s rocky and a potential boyfriend, you tell us.”
lily shakes her head, poking her head out to look over at ylona. “you don’t have to. they’re just protective.”
ylona nods, pressing her lips together. “well, we met matt, you see. he’s a decent guy — didn’t seem like you guys had to run any more background checks on him than we already did.”
“nice,” oscar giggles, high fiving lily.
he looks ahead at the group walking down the strip to get ice cream first before heading to the club, her arms wrapped around matt’s as they walked and chatted with george.
“well, she does look happy,” oscar mutters. “i was afraid she was gonna end up and old maid with 20 cats in her home.”
logan scoffs. “she’s gonna end up with 20 cats regardless.”
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#logan sargeant x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#alex albon x reader#liam lawson x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 female driver#formula one x reader#fem!driver#f1 fem!driver#female driver#disneyprincemuke vr#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#vettel reincarnate
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OOOOH Can i hop on the dr!rem train?!?! I would love to see how he is with someone who just doesn’t really take care of themselves. Like if something’s hurting they just power through. But of course he’s a dr so he’d know 🤔🤔💕💕💕💕
Ofc you can! This is precisely what I need him for haha. Also, when I wrote this my foot was still really hurting and now it feels tons better, so I think writing for him is healing me! Thanks for requesting my love <3
Doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Remus looks up from his laptop when you hold a bowl of pasta up in front of him enticingly. “Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” he says, taking it from you. He’s been so caught up in his paperwork he hadn’t even heard you bustling around in the kitchen, but you’d been thoughtful enough to bring him his dinner on the couch rather than call him to the table. “You’re too good to me. I’ll be finished here in a minute.”
“It’s no problem,” you say with a smile. “Oh, I forgot I made you tea, too. Just a second.”
You go back towards the kitchen, and Remus thinks to go back to his laptop for the interval of your absence, but something about the way you’re moving catches his attention. You’re walking oddly, shifting an almost imperceptible amount of your weight to one side. It’s not quite a limp, but there’s a stiffness there.
You disappear into the kitchen for half a second, and Remus watches you carefully when you return. Your strides are as quick as if nothing were amiss, but there’s definitely something bothering you. It doesn’t look like the problem is in your foot, or your knee, but maybe your hip…
You pass him the tea, and Remus takes it quickly, chiding you for holding the hot part to pass him the handle. You roll your eyes as you sit, constantly discounting what you consider to be your boyfriend’s overcaution. You never worry about yourself, Remus thinks. Everything that happens to you is secondary, of little concern compared to whatever’s going on with everyone else. You don’t watch out for yourself, and you don’t always welcome others doing it for you either. It makes being someone who loves you an occasionally worrying task.
“How was your day, dovey?” Remus asks, shutting his laptop to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared for him. “I’ve been so focussed on work I’ve barely talked to you since I got home. How are you doing?”
Your smile is tinged with bemusement, but they’re not such odd questions as to draw much suspicion. “Don’t worry about it, I know it’s important stuff. I’m good, honey, how are you?”
“I’m good too,” he says, twirling pasta around his fork and inhaling the steamy aroma of the herbs you’ve mixed in. “Fantastic, now.” You shy, looking down at your own bowl. “Do much walking around today?”
Now your brows furrow, and you bring your fork to your mouth, chewing pensively. “Some,” you answer after a while. “Why do you ask?”
“I just noticed you’re walking a bit funny,” he says as casually as he can, knowing too much attention will only lead to you belittling more than you’re already inclined. “Is there something bothering you, love?”
“Oh, yeah,” you say, looking back to your bowl as though forking your pasta suddenly requires your undivided attention. “Think I twinged something in my leg earlier. It’s not bad, it’s just one of those things, you know? I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll be fine.”
It takes a heap of willpower to keep Remus from rolling his eyes. That’s your go-to reaction anytime something’s bothering you: power through and hope it goes away on its own. As someone who knows better, it nettles him incessantly. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? I might be able to help.”
“Because it’s not a big deal,” you say through a mouthful. “Anyway, you were busy.”
“Never too busy for you,” he hums, setting down his plate to lean closer to you, and fine, he’s pandering. If making light of this is what’s going to get you to let him help, that’s what he’ll do. “Let me have a look?” he asks you sweetly.
You look at him, sucking a stray noodle into your mouth. “What, now?”
“Sure,” he says, already moving to perch on the coffee table across from you. “Just to make sure that it’s fine and I don’t need to run to the drug store before it closes or anything.”
You sigh like you’re doing him a big favor. “Okay, but it’s really not bad. You don’t need to worry.”
He hums noncommittally. “Straighten your leg out for me?” You do, and he takes your foot in his hand. “What part hurts, dove?”
“Kinda, like—” You strain to lift one hip off the couch, touching the back of your thigh, “—like, all down here, ish.”
Remus cocks his head. “Does it hurt when you flex your foot?”
“A little,” you reply, nonchalant.
He nods, standing. “Okay, I think I get the picture,” he says. “Lay down for me, please?”
You give him a deadpan look. “Rem, I’m just trying to eat.”
“It’ll only take a second.”
With an eye-roll that you make sure he sees, you set your plate down next to his on the coffee table, laying on your back. Remus sits by your feet, lifting one of your calves so he can see the back of your thigh. He runs a knuckle over the skin there, noticing it’s a bit more swollen than your other leg. “Here?” he asks you.
“Yeah.”
Remus laughs silently at the sudden tight quality to your voice, thinking he knows the cause. He takes a detour to test his theory, migrating his touch further down until his knuckle skims the crease of your buttcheek.
“Careful,” you murmur, tone slightly teasing.
Remus tries and fails to suppress his grin as he forces himself back on task. “It looks like it’s your hamstring,” he says. “It’s a bit more swollen, but in a lot of cases there’ll be bruising too, and I don’t see any of that. Do you remember when you hurt it?”
“Mhm.”
Remus decides not to question you further on that for now; he’ll lecture you on telling him these things more quickly later. “Did you hear any sort of popping noise?”
“No,” you say, sounding unsure. “I think I would’ve noticed, right?”
“You would have,” Remus reassures you, relieved. “It’s probably just a pulled muscle, then. I’m going to test it really quickly to be sure, okay?”
“Okay,” you say warily, and Remus has you flex your foot, taking your leg in both hands as he straightens it and lifts it upward. You hiss, and he stops.
“That hurts?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is tight again, now for the wrong reasons, and Remus lowers your leg carefully.
“Alright, sorry.” He kisses your knee. “Well, at least it shouldn’t take too long to heal. I’ll get you an ice pack when we’re done eating, and I want you to elevate it and take ibuprofen.”
You sit up, clearly ready for your boyfriend’s mollycoddling to be over as you grab for your bowl. “Already am,” you say with a smile that Remus supposes is meant to be reassuring. Instead, he frowns.
“Sweetheart.” He gives you an admonishing look. “You were taking painkillers for this and you weren’t going to tell me about it?”
“Don’t be mad at me,” you say lightly. “I made you pasta.”
Now it’s Remus who’s sighing laboriously, pressing a reluctant kiss to the side of your head. “I suppose that does make up for everything, doesn’t it?”
#doctor!remus#doctor!remus lupin#doctor!remus x reader#doctor!remus x fem reader#remus lupin au#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin one shot#marauders au#marauders#the marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#marauders fandom#hp marauders
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Just not him
・❥・ Your situationship doesn’t like that you were seen with another man
・❥・word count: 1.2k
・❥・warnings: Homelander and The Deep (they’re their own warnings), fade to black smut, Homie is a little toxic, supe!reader
・❥・I don't write smut because I'm not good at it, but I'm not good at it because I don't write it, a viscous cycle.
Also sorry if this doesn't make much sense I was in and out of consciousness while writing 😝
"No. No way am I doing that."
"(Y/n), your sexuality is part of your brand. May I remind you your approval rates are going down by the minute." Madelyn sighs.
"Yeah, I get that, but you expect me to go out there and flirt with The Deep? I'd be making a fool of myself." Your cheeks are hot as you try to defend yourself.
"Ah, ah, you'd be making a spectacle, and that's exactly what we need right now. Drama, scandal, rumors."
"And it has to be him?" You deadpanned. "It can't be anyone else? What about Homelander?" You felt yourself becoming desperate.
“Homelander? And you?” A smile breaks out on her face, but she tries to hide it. “I don’t mean any offense, but you two aren’t an ideal pair up.” She talks to you like you’re a child. You fight the urge to tell her that you and Homelander are actually a very good pair. “Anyways, recently you and The Deep have been trending, as a couple.” You scoff.
Recently on a podcast with some man you’re sure is very popular in a different crowd, The Deep confessed that he found you to be the most attractive member of The Seven. Ever since then a burst of videos were posted of cute moments between the two of you, which turned into edits, which turned into fan art, which turned into fanfiction. You fought the urge to gag, who even makes that stuff? From a marketing perspective, it made for great business, a romance angle brought new eyes to the scene. To you, it was demeaning.
“Fine. But I’m not going to take this any further than a few flirtatious remarks at tomorrow’s gala.” You remind yourself it’s not good to anger someone like Madelyn, she’s scarier than she lets on. Madelyn nods and you walk out of her office, much more embarrassed than you were when you entered. As you stormed down the hallway to the safety of your own home, none other than The Deep greeted you.
Speak of the devil and he shall arrive.
“Hey! How are you doing today, cutie?” He starts. He practically salivates as he walks beside you. You feel like you’re gonna be sick.
“I’m not in the mood right now.”
“C’mon, why don’t you let me take you out for a drink or two? We’re supposed to be all over each other tom-“
“Not in the mood!” You cut him off. Your walking increases to practically sprinting until you reach your home. You slam the door shut behind you. You shrugged off your clothes and crawled into bed. No way in hell were you getting out of bed until the last possible minute.
You stood, still as a statue. You wore a deep purple outfit. The silks enveloped your body in a sexy, yet elegant way. You had never felt more bored in your life. The Deep had his hand positioned on your lower back, where it had been all night. You had already talked to everyone important, you made sure the photographers got enough shots of you coquettishly whispering in The Deep’s ear, or leaning on him while being in conversation. You had taken notice to the fact that Homelander had yet to arrive. The gala would be ending soon, and without an appearance from the leader of The Seven himself. His absence further ruined your mood.
You and Homelander were in a bit of a situationship. There was no official label for your relationship. He’d come to your house just to sleep with you one day, then act like you two were strangers the next. You had learned to accept that nothing serious would come from the relationship. But there was still a part of you that wished he had come tonight.
“(Y/n), big smiles.” The Deep reminded. “Why do you look so fucking depressed?” His voice was low enough that it would look like casual banter to any outsider. His hold on the small of your back grew tight.
“Back off and mind your own business.” You said through gritted teeth. You forced a coy smile and blush onto your face as if he had just said something really flustering to you.
“Hey you two!” You felt your brows furrow. Sometime between two minutes ago, when you last scanned the room, and now Homelander had entered, and without you noticing. Your fake smile melted into a real one.
“Homelander.” You greeted. The Deep pulled you in impossibly closer. He didn’t say anything, just nodded. You had a feeling he was scared of Homelander.
“Do you mind if I borrow them?” Homelander asked The Deep. All of you knew it wasn’t a question, just a thinly veiled demand. “You seem to have them chained down.” He laughed, referring to the vice grip currently on your back. After a second the hold was gone, The Deep had already walked off to get himself another drink.
It was just you and Homelander now. He moved close to you to whisper in your ear.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked with a plastic smile. You felt your stomach drop.
“My job.” You shot back with an equally fake smile. You watched as his cheeks turned red with anger.
“No.” He grabbed your wrist. “We’re leaving.” You planted your feet in the ground.
“Excuse you?”
“I said, we’re leaving.” He hissed.
“They’ll have my head if I’m seen leaving with you.”
“They can fucking suck it up. I’m The Homelander. I get who I want, when I want. We’re leaving.” He dragged you by the wrist to pull you out the back doors. You were acutely aware that all the photographers turned away their cameras after seeing the expression on Homelander’s face.
The cold night air curled around your exposed skin, but you had no time to even breathe it in before your head hit the wall behind you and Homelander’s lips were on yours. His hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You push him away, sucking in deep breaths.
“What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?” You ask breathlessly. You can’t say you don’t enjoy this possessiveness, but he’s never made such a scene for you before, especially in public. He doesn’t answer before pulling you back into another hungry kiss.
He pulls away, his breath hot against your neck. “You’re mine. All fucking mine. No one else can have you, especially not that fucker Deep.” He pants. His grip tightened in a way you’re sure would bruise if it wasn’t for your invulnerable skin. “Fucking say it. Say that you’re mine.” A tone of pathetic desperation creeps into his voice. You smile and curl your fingers in his hair.
You wish Madelyn could see you now. Not a good pair, as if.
“I’m yours, Homelander.” You assure him. He whines against your collarbone. You’re sure tomorrow he’ll go back to pretending none of this happened, but for now you revel in his attention. “Why don’t you show them that I belong to you?”
It’s so petty, just a cheap way to stick it in Madelyn’s face. Homelander grins as he tries to suck a hickey on your neck. Both of your smiles quickly faded at the realization that there’s no way to bruise invincible skin. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Homelander looked up at you with his big blue eyes. You run your fingers through his hair.
“I’m sure you could show them in a different way.” You smirked.
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azul meeting leech parents and leech twins meeting ashengrotto parents?
Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.
Azul meeting the Leech parents!
“Ahhh, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Leech. It’s wonderful to finally meet the parents of my dear vice dorm leader Jade and my invaluable associate Floyd. Azul Ashengrotto, at your service.”
His smile was dialed up to 11 as he produced business cards from within his jacket. One for the father and one for the mother, then an extra card apiece in case the first were lost or damaged. Azul handed them over with a flourish. Only Mr. Leech accepted a single card, slipping it from the boy by pincering his index and middle fingers like a crab’s claw.
He held it out for his wife—a hand covering her mouth, hiding her expression. Mr. Leech ran his own gaze over the printed text, reading simultaneously. Name, positions, contact information. His eyes slightly narrowed, in that almost imperceptible way that Jade’s did.
Ah, there’s the family resemblance.
“I would provide you with my own, but I’m afraid you would have to sign an NDA first. Due to the nature of my… occupation, there are many legal hoops for others to jump through.”
“An NDA!! I see that you’re a man after my own heart,” Azul gushed. “I’m a businessman myself, so I completely understand the importance of keeping trade secrets. Please, think nothing of it. Just keeping my information on file is enough for me.”
With a nod, Azul’s business card vanished into Mr. Leech’s suit. “Agreeable young man.”
It was difficult for Azul to hold his smirk at bay. Bingo. I’ve gotten an ‘in’.
“Ehhhh, how strange. You’re a little different in real life than how Jade and Floyd described you,” Mrs. Leech piped up, giggling.
“Oh? And how, may I ask, did they describe me?”
“Let’s see… What was it again? Do you remember their specific wording, angelfish?”
“I believe it was… ‘A cute, squishy crybaby with an absolutely terrible personality. High-strung and hopelessly greedy. Prod him in the right places and his composure will break down completely. A treat to bully.’ Something to that effect.”
“Wh-What…!!” Azul sputtered, his jaw agape. “I-I am no such thing!! I STRONGLY refute their claims.”
Those two…! Making me sound like an utter buffoon to their parents!!
“My, myyy~” Mrs, Leech drawled, latching onto her husband’s arm. “Did you see that just now? His cheeks turned bright pink and his eyes went sooo wide. He really is as adorable as Jade and Floyd said he is!”
“Is that so? Hmm… I’m getting hungry myself. The young man is starting to look rather appetizing.”
“A-Are you joking!?” Azul demanded, bolting up from his seat. “If so, I do not find this the least bit amusing…!!”
“Fufufu. Perhaps you can kindly recommend a hearty octopus dish or two from your eatery’s menu.”
“Ehehehe~ I’m so pleased that Jade and Floyd have such a fun friend around at school!”
“This is no laughing matter!!”
Jade and Floyd meeting the Ashengrotto parents!
“Mr. and Mrs. Ashengrotto.”
“Azul’s mom and dad!”
"It's nice to see you again, ma'am," the twins said in unison. They wore a matching smile, showing all of their sharp teeth. "And it's nice to finally meet you, sir."
“Ah, I recognize you.” Mrs. Ashengrotto’s eyes lit up with realization. “You’re the Leech boys that would come by and drag him out to play with you. You used to be so small—look at you now, you’ve grown so much!”
“Yup, that’s us!”
“We were little rascals back then. It was terrible of us to pull Azul away from his precious studies." Jade chuckled into one hand. "But not to worry, we've been on the straight and narrow ever since those childhood days. Isn't that right, Floyd?"
"Yeah, Jade~"
"It must be fate that you were brought back together at Night Raven College." Mr. Ashengrotto's laugh was warm and hearty, like a stew in the dead of winter. "What do you three get up to nowadays?"
"Lotsa stuff! Azul's got this whooole operation going on, and we're there to help him out," Floyd replied cryptically. "Jade and I advertise and do crowd control! Azul's the brains, he handles the plans and money and whatever."
"Advertise" as in, "luring unsuspecting souls into making deals" and "crowd control" as in, "dealing with debtors who tried to weasel out of those deals". Trinkets, money, talents. Everything Azul collected had a chance of being paid for in blood. Dirty prizes--but it was a secret none had to know.
"You work well as a group," Mrs. Ashengrotto remarked. "Reminds me of myself and my own restaurant staff!"
"Well, Azul does often speak about how he respects you. It does not surprise me that he works to live up to your sparkling reputation." Jade's eyes cut to a table across the way, where Azul was seated and chatting with his own parents. He appeared to be flustered about something, having risen from his seat, his mouth flapping in protest while Mr. and Mrs. Leech grinned widely. Jade himself smirked at the sight.
"He's been a blast to be around!" Floyd agreed, slinging an arm around his twin. "Azul's suuuch a good leader. Think we'll be stickin' with him to the ends of Twisted Wonderland and back, hehe."
"That's right, Floyd."
Until he becomes boring, he had once claimed. It had been winter break, and they were seated on the floor of Scarabia's lounge, mancala beads in hand. Azul had agreed, had already considered that inevitability.
But Moray eels were not known for their honesty. The truth, they only spoke out of his earshot.
"It's nice that you'll always be there for each other. I envy that deep bond you share." Mr. Ashengrotto raised his glass--provided free, courtesy of Azul. "A toast? To the future of our boys and their friendship."
Mrs. Ashengrotto followed her husband's lead. Then Jade, then Floyd.
Their glasses met in the middle with a resounding clink.
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Azul Ashengrotto#Jade Leech#Tweels#Octavinelle#Floyd Leech#NRC Family Day#twst interactions#twisted wonderland interactions#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines
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Taste of His Own Medicine
You suddenly have to leave to go back to your home country for a few months. Yoongi decides to ignore you so you decide to show him how it feels when he realizes you’re gone.
“Hi Yoongi.”, you said after letting yourself in the studio. You received nothing more than a grunt. “I brought you some food.”, you said trying to lure him over to the couch. “Not now Y/N. I’ve got a lot going on.”, he said without even looking at you. You were starting to get frustrated. Sure you wanted to spend time with him but you also had something really important and time sensitive to tell him. You knew he was already stressed and cranky and your news wasn’t going to make it any better. “Yoongi please come have dinner with me. I really need to talk to you about something.”, you begged. He slammed his hand on the desk and spun his chair around startling you., “What part of not now I’m busy are you not understanding? Sometimes you can be so frustrating Y/N. Please just get out and leave me alone.” You didn’t say a word and just grabbed your bag storming out of his studio slamming the door behind you.
Back at your apartment you were doing your best to calm your nerves. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to speak to you like that and even after you haven’t spoken or seen each other in three weeks. You felt that you were more than patient and understanding when he got into moods like this with his work. He always did this to you where he’d ignore you and if he did pay attention to you he was short with everything you did and said. You finished zipping up the last of your bags and placed them by the door along with your plane ticket. Something had come up and you had to fly back to your home country which was the reason for your visit to Yoongi’s today. You were going to tell him that in the morning you had to fly home and you’d be gone for at least two months. You had hoped to eat dinner together and cuddle a little since it would be the last time you’d be with each other for a while. Instead you were yelled at and called names.
The following morning you woke up and checked your phone secretly hoping for a text or a phone call or anything from Yoongi giving you a reason to call him and hear his voice before leaving for the airport but nothing. “Fine then. If he doesn’t care I won’t either.”, you thought slamming your phone down on the desk. You showered and got changed just finishing up when you got a notification that your ride was waiting outside. You grabbed your bags and took one last look at your apartment you’d be away from and closed the door behind you.
Once at the airport you remembered why you hated flying so much. The crowds of rude people, the loud noises, the having to rush no matter how early you are. You hated it. Your first flight went smoothly. You arrived at your layover destination and decided to grab something to eat while you waited to board your next flight. While eating your sandwich you remembered that you had turned your phone off before the last flight and pulled it out of your pocket to power it on.
Once up and running you waiting for any notifications to pop up. There were two texts from your mom, one from your best friend, and one from your boss. Then you saw something that concerned you. 11 missed calls and close to 20 texts messages, all from Yoongi.
Yoongles: Hey Y/N, I’m on my way home. Did you need me to stop and get you anything? I seriously can’t want to get in bed with you. I need a hug more than anything.
“Odd he wants to pretend like he didn’t snap last night.”, you thought before continuing to read.
Yoongles:Y/N where are you? I thought today was your day off.
Yoongles: Babe seriously you never go this long without responding.
Yoongles: Y/N why is a bunch of your stuff gone? Did you leave?
Yoongles: Listen I know I’ve been difficult lately but you know I love you and you mean everything to me.
Yoongles: Y/N please answer me. I’m really worried right now. Whatever happened we can fix it.
Before you could continue reading your phone started ringing again. You saw Yoongi’s name pop up. Part of you wanted to just ignore him but you did feel kind of bad knowing that he was in distress. You decided to answer,
“Hello”
“Y/N! Where are you? I’ll come to you. We need to talk”
“Umm I’m actually at the airport waiting for my connecting flight back home.”
“What?! You’re going back home? Like forever?”
“No I’ll be gone for at least the next two months. Maybe a little longer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You seriously just packed your stuff without saying goodbye.”
“Actually I came by your studio yesterday. Remember? I had found out yesterday morning that something has come up and I need to go back home for a while. I brought you food and asked you to talk to me. You ignored me and then yelled at me and called me annoying and told me to leave so I did.”
There was a long silence before Yoongi spoke again, “No this isn’t happening. I really don’t get to see you for at least two months? I can’t live like that.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “Well maybe this will teach you not to take our time together for granted and to not treat me like that. They’re about to start boarding so I have to go. Take care of yourself Yoongi. I’ll see you when I get back.” With that you hung up not giving him the chance to say anything else. You knew it was harsh but he was also harsh towards you and you wanted him to regret his actions as petty as that might be. Maybe he’ll see what it feels like to be on the receiving end of feeling ignored. A taste of his own medicine.
You shut your phone back off and made your way to the gate boarding your next plane. Your next flight thankfully went quick and you landed back in your home country. You were going to be staying with your parents. Finally arriving at your parents house you quickly went up to your old room and laid in bed exhausted from the day of travel. You turned on your phone so you could charge it and set your alarm clock when you heard a bunch of notifications which you figured were all from Yoongi. You were correct. He had tried to call you six more times and sent you a bunch of texts,
Yoongles: Y/N I’m really sorry. I was such a jerk. I never should’ve asked you to leave.
Yoongles: Please let me know when you’ve landed so that I know you’re safe.
Yoongles: I’ll stop bothering you. Just please let me know you’re safe and okay. I’m laying in bed alone and I really miss you. I love you.
You sighed. As much as you wanted to completely ignore him you knew he’d be a nervous wreck all night if he didn’t know you were safe and you didn’t want that.
You: I just got to my parents so I’m safe. Get some sleep Yoongi. You really need it. I’ll talk to you another time.
Over the next couple months Yoongi texted you and called you more than he had in the last six months. You didn’t completely ignore him but you definitely tried to give him that taste of his own medicine.
You were able to get everything situated back home and got prepared to make the trip back to Seoul. You had decided to keep it a surprise from Yoongi telling him that you were still probably going to be gone for a few more weeks.Thankfully the trip was quick and easy and you were now making your way to his studio. You knocked on the door but all you heard was a muffled Go Away. Rolling your eyes you knocked again, this time louder and harder hoping to get his attention.
It worked because a few second later the door swung open with fury and standing there was a disheveled Yoongi. He looked like he hadn’t slept the entire time you were gone and he probably ate just enough to barely keep him alive. “What do you wa-?”, he stopped mid speech when his eyes met yours. Instantly he lunged forward wrapping his arms around you burying his face in your neck. Before you could say anything you felt his shoulder start to shake and not long after you felt warm tears landing on your neck. Gently you pushed him away to get a better look and saw that he was crying.
“Yoongles, why are you crying?”, you asked wiping at the tears. This was only the third time he had ever allowed you to see him cry and it was heartbreaking. He was taking this a lot harder than you ever thought he would.
Quickly you pulled him into his studio and sat him down on the couch trying to comfort him. After he was able to calm his breathing he leaned onto you snuggling his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I never knew how hard it was when I shut you out. These last couple months have been awful.” You kissed his forehead, “It’s okay Yoongi. I’m here now. I’m sorry that I just left like that but I wanted you to see how it felt even though it was painful for me too. I worried about you every day while I was gone.” He chuckled, “Yeah well I cried pretty much every night. I don’t know how you did it all these years. I promise I’m going to be better about spending time with you and I’ll watch my mouth.” You smiled while pushing the hair out of his face, “Good because next time I go home I just might not come back.” Yoongi shook his head at the thought.
You watched him walk over to his computer closing all of the systems and powering it off. “What are you doing?”, you asked confused. He started putting on his coat and walked over to take your hand, “We’re gonna go get something to eat and then go home. We have two months of cuddles to make up for and I’m not waiting any longer.” You smiled taking his hand and walking out of the room with him happy that you finally get to relax in his arms like you wanted from the start.
#bts#bts fanfic#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#bts yoongi#bts fluff#bts imagines#yoongi imagine#yoongi x y/n#yoongi#min yoongi
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➤ you need to be yourself (love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool)
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read it on ao3
SUMMARY ↳ Tim Drake and you, throughout the years. Growing up changes things, after all. You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding. There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body. But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind. pairing: tim drake x fem!reader warnings: reader gets grazed with a bullet, but i think thats it (other than the angst, that is) tags/notes: unrequited love but not actually unrequited love, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, friends to lovers, this fic was inspired by Best Friend by Rex Orange County. wc: 6.9k
You first met Tim Drake at a gala.
Your parents had promised you ice cream if you behaved well. You didn’t want to go in the first place, but the promise of a sweet treat was too tempting for your little eight-year-old mind.
Dressed in your best clothes, you arrived at the grand event, feeling overwhelmed by the opulence and the throngs of well-dressed adults. You stuck close to your parents, clutching your mother’s hand tightly as you navigated the sea of guests.
While your parents mingled with other attendees, you found yourself near the dessert table, eyes wide with anticipation. Your father said not to try anything without permission, but he didn’t say from who. Now, you have to figure out who to ask and how to ask them. Words never came easily to you.
There’s a boy coming up to you. Maybe you can ask him. Maybe not, he looks like he’s your age. An adult would know better.
“Hi, I’m Tim,” he said, offering you a smile that seemed a little too mature for his age.
You introduced yourself shyly, still focused on the food. Tim seemed to sense your discomfort in the unfamiliar environment.
“Do you want to go somewhere less boring?” he asked, glancing around to ensure no adults were watching.
Nodding eagerly, you followed Tim through the maze of guests until you reached a quiet corner of the gala hall. There, hidden from the prying eyes of the adults, Tim produced a small bag of chocolates from his pockets.
“All the chocolates have weird stuff in them. These just have chocolate,” he explains, handing one to you.
You nibble on it gratefully, taking a seat with him on a nearby bench. The two of you chatted about school, favorite toys, and the best flavors of ice cream. Kid stuff, you know how it is. Tim tells you about his parents' business, about why their work is important and that they’d appreciate your parents’ support.
“You should tell your mom and dad about my mom and dads work,” he insists. To be honest, you weren’t paying all that much attention to what he had been saying, but you’ll tell your parents about it since he asked.
Your mom shakes her head when you tell her, muttering under her breath, “They’re making their son network?” You didn't quite understand what your mother meant at the time. You only remember wanting to share ice cream with him.
From that day on, your paths crossed frequently at various events. Tim quickly became one of your closest friends, someone who understood your quiet nature and often helped you navigate social situations. You find out you’ll attend the same school, which makes you happy.
You’ve never been one for friendships. You simply just prefer being alone, often labeled as ‘mysterious’ by your peers. But Tim has dutifully kept the title of your best friend for years now.
The thing is, you’re not sure you're his best friend.
Tim Drake has his friends, and all you have is him. There’s the pretty blonde, named Stephanie, the other pretty blonde, Cassie. The lively one named Bart, and the cool one named Conner. Sometimes Tim invites you to hang out with them, but you’re not stupid. You know there’s a disconnect between you and them. You feel like you're constantly missing something when you’re around them.
You stop hanging out with them, and eventually Tim stops asking. He must’ve noticed, though, since he starts coming over to your place every Friday for movie night.
At first, it’s a bit awkward. Tim brings over some of your favorite movies, trying to rekindle that old spark of friendship. You sit side by side on the couch, munching on popcorn and watching the screen, occasionally sharing a laugh or a comment.
As the weeks go by, you start to relax into this new routine. Tim is patient, never pushing you to talk more than you’re comfortable with. Sometimes, in the quiet moments between movies, he asks about your day, your thoughts, your dreams.
One Friday evening, after a particularly intense movie, Tim turns to you with a serious expression.
"I miss hanging out with you, you know," he admits quietly. "I know things have changed between us, but I still value our friendship a lot." He scratches the back of his neck. “I know I’ve been busy lately, but a lot of things have happened. Out of my control.”
You glance at him, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you wants to explain why you pulled away, but another part just wants to enjoy this moment of peace with Tim. You nod slightly, not quite sure what to say.
Tim smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder gently. "Thanks for letting me come over every week. It means a lot to me."
And just like that, the tension eases between you. You realize that maybe friendship doesn’t always have to fit into a predefined mold. Tim understands you in a way that no one else does, and you’re grateful for his presence in your life.
You try-out for the volleyball team. You make it.
It becomes a staple in your life. Your afternoons are filled with shoes squeaking on the gym floors and sore muscles. The practices, the games, the friendship with your teammates—it all starts to feel like a natural extension of who you are.
The friendship with your teammates.
They form a group chat, adding you in it of course. It stops being used only for practice announcements and starts being used as ‘life’ updates from your teammates. They gossip about who they like, who they dislike, their boy troubles. You don’t say much, but when they ask you for your opinion, you give it. Apparently, you give really good advice.
You’re sixteen when you realize you’re in love with Tim Drake.
You’re not sure how long exactly, but you know that you’ve craved his presence since you’ve met him.
Tim introduces you to his boyfriend, Bernard. He’s blond. You think Tim might have a thing for blondes.
You tell Tim this later, when Bernard leaves. He only shrugs.
You wonder why you didn’t realize when Tim dated Stephanie. Probably because they dated when you and Tim were estranged. Maybe the reason you two became so was because they dated. You don’t know.
You've always known Tim as your best friend, the person who understands you better than anyone else. But realizing you're in love with him changes everything. It's a mix of emotions—joy, fear, uncertainty. You start noticing things about Tim that you hadn't before—the way he smiles, the way he talks about his interests with such passion, the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks you're not paying attention.
That last thing might be delusion on your part.
But Tim has Bernard now, and you respect that. You value your friendship with Tim too much to jeopardize it with your feelings. So, you bury your emotions deep down and try to focus on being the best friend you can be.
“What about you, [Name]?” asks Mina, libero of your team. Mina is notorious among your friends as the one with the most boy problems. You’d never say this out loud, but you think she doesn’t know that you don’t always need to be in a relationship.
“Any boy troubles?”
Your shoelaces can’t get tied fast enough. “No.” Because there’s not. Tim has his own boyfriend. There’s no you and him, apart from being you being his friend and him being your best friend.
Lilly, setter, gives you a playful nudge, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, spill! There's gotta be someone you're crushing on."
You chuckle nervously, shaking your head. "Really, there's no one."
Your teammates exchange knowing glances, clearly not convinced. You've always been more reserved about your personal life compared to them. They respect your privacy, but sometimes they can't help but tease. You’ve come to realize that it’s just a friend thing.
Senior year is a calm year.
Most people describe it as the most stressful yet chill year of them all. Stressful, because after this life is going to be serious and suddenly you’re swamped with creating a resume and applying to colleges. Chill, because you can simply just not do all that, and barely show up at all.
Your parents want you to go to college, but assure you that if you don’t want to, you’ll always have a place at their company. Nepotism is a beautiful thing.
You think less of Tim and think more of making this volleyball season the best it can be. It’s your senior year after all, when better to go all out? You become the reason your team wins their games. The star ace.
During the final game of the season, Tim meets you out back, just before you have to go out on the court. He's holding a bouquet of flowers—violets and peonies. His smile is nervous, uncertain, but there's a warmth in his eyes that you've come to recognize as affection.
"Hey," he starts, handing you the bouquet. "I know this might be a weird time, but there's something I've been wanting to tell you."
Your heart skips a beat as you take the flowers, your mind racing with possibilities. Could this be...?
"I've been thinking a lot lately," Tim continues, his words coming out in a rush now. "About us, about our friendship. I realize I've been a bit... oblivious, maybe. And I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you, [Name]. More than anyone else in my life."
You feel a mix of emotions—hope, confusion, and a twinge of disappointment. You try to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to betray your feelings. You’re not sure what you were thinking. You should’ve known better.
You tentatively reach out to take the bouquet. It’s pretty. “You should’ve probably saved them for after the game.” It’s meant to be a joke, but you’ve never been too good at making those.
Tim chuckles softly, his nervousness easing a bit at your attempt at humor. "Maybe. I wanted to give them to you now.”
The bouquet feels heavy in your hands, the flowers vibrant and fragrant against your fingers. “Thank you.”
You play with all your might. Sweat beads at your temple as you leap in the air. It feels like flying. You play with a fierce determination, channeling your emotions into each move, each serve, and each spike.
You spot Tim in the crowd as you’re in the air. He's watching you intently, his eyes filled with pride and admiration. The game seems to blur around you as you lock eyes with him. You almost miss the winning point.
You're surrounded by your teammates, celebrating the victory, but your eyes search for Tim. He's waiting for you at the edge of the court, a proud smile on his face.
As you approach him, still breathless from the game, he envelops you in a hug. "You were amazing out there," he says sincerely, his voice filled with admiration.
"Thanks," you manage to reply, feeling a rush of emotions—pride, happiness, and a lingering uncertainty.
“I like seeing you do things you love.” He should stop saying things like that.
Tim wants to take you out to dinner to celebrate. You initially decline, and he looks a little confused by that.
“My coach said she’d take us out to eat if we won,” you explain.
“Oh,” he says.
“Don’t worry about what Coach said, [Name],” says Anne, captain, laying a firm hand on your shoulder. “Go spend time with your boyfriend. I’ll ask her to reschedule.”
“Tim’s not my–”
“That’s okay,” smiles Tim. It’s his showman smile. “I don’t want to keep [Name] from spending time with you.” He doesn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend. Why doesn’t he deny that he’s your boyfriend?
Anne grins, fierce and sharp. “Take her out to dinner.” And that’s that.
Tim keeps a friendly hand on your back as he guides you out. “Let's go to that place we talked about last week," he suggests, his voice almost as sweet as the victory that's just come to pass. "I promise it'll be worth it."
You're filled with a mix of emotions as you walk alongside Tim, still processing everything that's happened. The restaurant is cozy, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Tim seems relaxed, chatting about the game, your performance, anything really. Tim’s always had a way of capturing your attention.
“Bernard and I broke up.” You almost don’t register the info, too focused on watching his face.
You furrow your brows. “What did you do?”
“Why do you assume I did something?” he asks dryly.
“Have you met you?”
“Nothing happened.” He rolls his eyes. “It just didn’t work out.”
“Oh,” you reply softly, unsure how to respond to Tim’s revelation. You hadn’t expected he would talk about his relationship status, and would’ve preferred if he hadn’t. Tim continues to look at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you’re not sure what to say.
The atmosphere between you feels a bit heavier now, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering in the air. You've always valued your friendship with Tim above anything else, and while part of you feels a pang of sympathy for his breakup, another part wonders what it means for your relationship with him.
By the time dinner ends and you're walking back together, the tension that had briefly surfaced seems to have dissipated. Tim is back to his usual self, cracking jokes and teasing you playfully about your volleyball skills. You find yourself smiling, grateful for the comfort and familiarity of your friendship.
As you part ways for the night, Tim gives you a warm hug, holding onto you for just a moment longer than usual. "Thanks for tonight," he says sincerely, his voice quiet.
"Anytime," you reply softly, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "I'm glad we could hang out."
Tim nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally heads off. You watch him go, your mind swirling with thoughts and emotions that you're not quite ready to unpack yet.
In the days that follow, you notice subtle changes in your interactions with Tim. He is pulling you closer to him. He has taken you to more private places just to hang out. He seems more attentive, more considerate of your feelings and preferences. He makes an effort to spend more time with you, whether it's grabbing lunch together between classes or inviting you over for movie nights more frequently.
You feel a flutter of hope in your chest with each of these gestures, but you push it down. You know better.
Tim stops going to school for a while, and it feels like you're back to square one. Back to when he found better ways to spend his time, with others who are not you.
You meet a boy. He’s nice and he’s cute. You like him well enough, and he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. Your friends say that you guys are cute together.
He asks you on a date to a local cafe, and you agree. It's a pleasant afternoon, filled with easy conversation and laughter. He listens intently as you talk about your interests, your dreams for the future, and he shares his own aspirations with you. It feels comfortable, uncomplicated.
Comfortable and uncomplicated never last long for you.
“This is a goddamn robbery!”
Two warning shots go off, and people scramble out of their seats to cover. What kind of asshole robs a cafe? You hide under the table, mind scrambled by the sudden change of events. Your hands scramble to grab on to your date, for comfort or for reassurance you don’t know, but you don’t feel anything.
You see your date round the booth and run out of the door. He left you.
You’re left alone and bewildered, shaken by the sudden chaos. Your heart races, adrenaline pumping as you try to make sense of what just happened. Fucking asshole , he just left you!
“Put the gun down, sir.”
There’s someone in the doorway. You peek out from under the table, heart still racing, and see him—Red Robin. He’s a figure of black and red. His presence commands and reassures.
The robber hesitates, gun wavering slightly as he eyes Red Robin warily. It’s a stand-off, tense and uncertain.
“I said put the gun down,” Red Robin repeats calmly, stepping forward with measured confidence.
The robber takes slow steps to the side, gun pointed at the vigilante. Every step taken to get closer has the robber threatening to shoot. “Easy, just put it down and we can talk,” Red Robin continues, his voice steady and calm. The tension in the cafe is strong, everyone holding their breath as they watch the standoff unfold.
The robber’s hand shakes as he weighs his options, eyes darting between Red Robin and the patrons cowering behind tables. His legs carry him closer and closer. He’s.
He’s getting closer to you.
You try to move further under the table, but the robber lunges down and grabs your arm, twisting his and pulling you up. You yelp as there’s suddenly something cold pressed to your head.
“I’ll blast her brains out.”
"Let her go.” Red Robin's voice is suddenly deep and menacing.
The robber hesitates, glancing between you and Red Robin. He tightens his grip on your arm, causing you to wince in pain.
"Let her go now," Red Robin repeats, his tone firm and unwavering. Your breathing starts to pick up.
Suddenly, there's a blur of motion and a loud thud. The robber cries out in pain as he releases you, stumbling back from the force of impact. There’s a loud sound and suddenly there’s a searing pain in your side.
You whimper and stumble to the floor, holding your side. There’s a rush of movement around you as you crawl away. You hear sirens. The police are here. What good they were.
“Hey. Heyheyheyheyhey. It’s okay.” A hand removes yours and replaces it. You look at them. They’re covered in blood. “It’s just a graze. It’s okay.”
Red Robin is at your side muttering reassurances into your ear. You whimper when his hand applies pressure to your wound. He shushes you quietly. “You’re fine.”
Then his voice breaks. “You have to be.”
There’s a heavy thud of boots in your directions. “Red Robin.” It’s Batman, in all this terrifying and dramatic glory. Batman, with a quick glance at you, shifts his attention to the situation at hand. “She needs medical attention.”
Red Robin helps you sit up a little, keeping pressure on your wound while Batman assesses the situation. The cafe is now surrounded by police, and the robber is being apprehended. "Stay with me," Red Robin urges softly, his voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're going to be okay."
Paramedics arrive shortly after, quickly attending to your wound. Red Robin stays by your side, explaining what happened to the paramedics and keeping you calm. It’s strange, how easily you’re comforted by his presence.
You're taken to the hospital for treatment, where the doctors confirm that your injury is indeed just a graze. Your parents are the first to arrive, appearances rustled. Your mother sheds a tear, even after you tell her that it’s just a graze, that it could’ve been a lot worse. That makes her cry harder.
Your friends arrive next, rushing through the door. You ask how they found out what happened, and they say they were secretly watching your date from across the street. They ridicule your date, having saw how he ran away first thing. You can’t bring yourself to be irked with them.
No one else comes to visit.
You’re allowed to go back to school after a week. Tim is there, waiting by the entrance. He perks up when he sees you. You stop in your tracks as he makes his way over to you.
Tim embraces you in a hug, unexpectedly. You can’t bring your arms up to hug him back. He must notice, because he unwraps from you with a cough.
"...Hey," Tim says softly, his eyes searching yours. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"
You nod, not being able to bring yourself to say anything. He nods as well. “That’s good.”
“...Are you sure?”
“Tim…” you sigh, finally. He perks up at your voice, looking at you earnestly.
“Do you want to go somewhere? The park? We don’t have to do anything, we can just. Sit. I don’t want you to pull your stitches or anything–”
“You weren’t even there.”
Tim shuts up, staring at you. You don’t look at him, perhaps afraid. You’ve never truly spoken your mind, preferring to simply deal with it and move on. But you… deserve better.
“I waited for you to come visit,” you whisper, looking down at your shoe. “But you never came. Did you even know?”
His hands hover in the air uselessly. “I. Of course I knew–”
“Then why didn’t you visit?” Your brows furrow. “Is that asking too much? For you to just, show up? While I’m sitting in the hospital because I barely missed being shot?”
“I was busy!”
“You’re always busy,” you groan.
Tim's expression tightens with guilt as he listens to your words, his usual composed demeanor faltering. He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "I know... I know it's not an excuse, but things have been crazy, and I... I should have been there for you. I'm really sorry."
“It’s the same thing everytime.”
“[Name]?”
“You’re not there. You apologize for not being there. I accept, we move on. And then it happens again.”
Tim's shoulders slump slightly, and he takes a moment before responding, his voice quieter now, tinged with regret. "I... I don't want it to be like that. I want to be there for you. I want to... I want to do better. You just… you don’t know what I have going on in my life.”
You glance up at him, meeting his gaze. His sincerity is evident, but so is his struggle with balancing his responsibilities. You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of frustration and a longing for understanding.
“I don’t know because you don’t tell me anything,” you mutter.
He takes a step closer, hesitant but determined to bridge the gap that has formed between you. “I’m sorry, but please. You're… you’re my best friend.”
You shake your head. “You’re my best friend. I’m just… convenient for you.”
Tim's expression softens, hurt flickering across his features before he shakes his head. “No. No, please don’t think that.”
“What else am I supposed to think?”
Tim's eyes search yours, pleading for understanding. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I... I know I've let you down. And I'm sorry for that. You mean more to me than just convenience. I don't always… know how to balance everything.”
His admission hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw. You feel a pang of sympathy mixed with frustration. Tim has always been your closest friend, but for a long time, it's felt like he's slipping away, caught up in his own world.
“Can you just,” you pause, feeling like your entire world just shifted on its axis. “Leave me alone?”
“...How long?” he croaks.
You hesitate, the weight of your words heavy on your chest. "I don't know, Tim. I just. I need some space right now."
He nods slowly, expression twisted with anguish. “Okay,” he says softly. “Whatever you want.”
You wanted him, but that’s not possible.
Tim stands there for a moment, as if searching for something else to say, but ultimately turns away. You watch him go, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow.
Days pass, and Tim respects your request for space. The halls of school feel different without his constant presence, a reminder of the void left by his absence. You start spending time on rooftops at night. You find solace in the quiet, away from the complexities of school and relationships. The city lights spread out beneath you, casting a gentle glow on the world below.
You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding.
There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body.
But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind.
It changed the way you see Tim. He’s matured into a strong and confident person, and you can’t help but notice the way he holds himself now. He’s more than just your childhood friend—he’s become someone you admire for his determination and resilience. Yet, amidst this newfound admiration, there’s still a part of you that remembers the boy who used to share chocolates with you at galas, who understood your quiet nature and sat by you during movie nights.
You can try to move on. You can hang out with other people, but he’ll always be in the back of your mind. You know you miss him. Every time you see him at school, you feel a pang of longing, mixed with a hint of resentment.
“You shouldn’t be out so late.”
You don’t move your head from where it’s rested on your arms on top of the ledge. Footsteps echo closer, until a figure clad in red maneuvers himself to sit on top of the ledge. Red Robin has decided to pay you a visit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re up to no good.
It’s silent for a moment, only the sound of wind rustling and cars moving able to be heard. The vigilante coughs, fidgeting.
“...You didn’t tell me why you were out so late.”
“You didn’t ask,” you mutter, finger trailing the surface of the ledge.
“I guess I didn’t,” he chuckles awkwardly. He shifts, the dim glow from the city below casting a subdued light on his features. His suit blends with the shadows, making him seem almost ethereal against the night sky.
“It’s just that,” he pauses, straightening his shoulders once he seems to find his confidence. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone so late.”
You raise a brow at him, which makes him falter ever so slightly. “I’m on a rooftop. There’s no one else here.”
“I’m here,” he points out.
“You are,” you agree. “So now that you have me alone, are you gonna do something to me?”
He sputters, waving his hands. “No! No, God no. I promise. I help people, not–” he stops, hearing a sound. It’s your laughter. It’s nothing grand, but it’s genuine. The vigilante relaxes a gentle smile on his face as he takes you in.
“Sorry,” you chuckle, eyes closing. It’s pretty late. You could honestly fall asleep here. Red Robin lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Bad joke.”
“No, no. It was good,” he assures. “You got me good.”
The moment stretches between you, filled with the easy silence of two people who have unknowingly shared many quiet moments together. Red Robin’s presence is both comforting and disconcerting.
A finger gently pokes you, stirring you awake. “Sleep at home, not here.”
You blink a few times, slowly lifting your head from your arms, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. Red Robin’s face is close, concern etched in his features. You yawn, stretching out your limbs and reluctantly pushing yourself up from the ledge.
“Are you not sleeping well?”
“No more than usual,” He offers a hand to help you stand, and you take it, feeling the strength in his grip. Once on your feet, you dust off your clothes and glance around the rooftop, a part of you reluctant to leave the serene view behind.
“Let me walk you home,” Red Robin offers, his voice gentle but firm.
“Sure.”
As you walk together, the city around you hums with a nocturnal life of its own. The streets are quieter, but not entirely deserted. Red Robin stays close, his presence reassuring. You steal glances at him. Something about him feels familiar. Maybe it’s just because he’s friendly.
When you turn back to thank him once you’re at your front door, he’s gone.
It becomes a routine, meeting him on that rooftop. Sometimes he doesn’t show, you feel eyes watching you when you’re walking back home. The days blend into nights, and you find yourself looking forward to those moments on the rooftop. The city feels different when you're up high, watching from a vantage point few ever see. It's a perspective that offers clarity, a place where the noise of everyday life fades into the background.
One evening, you arrive on the rooftop to find Red Robin already there, leaning against the ledge, gazing out at the city. He turns when he hears your approach, his expression softening.
“You’re early tonight,” he comments, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Needed some fresh air,” you reply, settling beside him. “And some company.”
He chuckles softly, the sound blending with the distant hum of the city. “Well, you’ve got both now.”
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks volumes without needing words. You find yourself studying him, noticing the way his eyes reflect the city lights, the slight tension in his shoulders that eases the longer you sit together.
“Why do you come here?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone is curious.
“I like being alone,” is all you say.
He nods thoughtfully. “I get that. Sometimes it’s easier to think when you’re away from everything else.” He looks at you. “Surely you’re not lonely though, right?”
“Lonely?”
“Like…” he hesitates, “you have friends?”
“I do,” you hum, furrowing your brows. “But. I don’t know. The girls on my team are nice, but I don’t really feel all that connected to them.”
“Is there no one you feel connected to?”
“There was somebody, but,” you trail off, looking towards the skyline. “People change. I guess I just can’t keep up.”
Red Robin listens quietly, his gaze thoughtful. "Change can be hard," he agrees softly. "But it's also inevitable. We all grow, evolve... sometimes in different directions."
"Yeah," you murmur, staring out at the city lights. "I guess that's part of growing up."
He whistles slightly. “So, who was that somebody?” You raise a brow at him. “If you’re comfortable sharing, that is!”
“Didn’t take you for a gossip,” you mumble.
Red Robin laughs softly, the sound light and almost musical against the backdrop of the night. “It’s not gossip if I’m just listening.”
You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to the cityscape. “It was my best friend,” you admit quietly. “We grew up together, shared everything. But lately... things have changed. We’ve changed.” You sigh softly. “Sometimes I wonder if I did something wrong, or if it’s just... life.”
“I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” he whispers.
“I was in love with him. I think I still am.”
The admission hangs in the air between you, heavier than any silence that had come before. Red Robin shifts beside you, his posture suddenly more alert, more focused on your words.
"In love?" he repeats softly, as if testing the weight of the phrase.
“I kind of realized it when he introduced me to his then boyfriend. But by the time I understood my feelings, it felt too late. He has friends and big things happening for him, and all I have is him,” you mumble. “But I guess I don’t have him anymore.”
“He let me down so many times and I don’t even have it in me to be angry with him. I just wish he chose me.” You turn to face him.
Red Robin's expression is unreadable beneath his mask, but there's a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He listens intently, not interrupting your flow of words, allowing you to spill the feelings that have been bottled up for so long.
Your face turns sad. “But maybe I’m being selfish.”
Red Robin's hand moves slightly, as if he's about to reach out to you, but he stops himself, clenching it into a fist instead. "It's hard," he says gently. "Loving someone who doesn't see you the same way, or who can't be there for you like you need them to be."
You stare at him as he continues, “I know it can’t compare to what you felt, but I’ve been so upset for the longest because I couldn’t share this part of my life with you.” He gestures to himself. “I was angry I couldn’t share with you the crazy things that happen on patrol or rely on you to patch me up if things go bad.”
The fog in your head clears. You look at him in confusion. “What?”
“But I was also so scared of bringing you into this life. I didn’t know if you felt the same and I thought I would just be dragging you into something that wasn’t worth it.”
You blink, staring at Red Robin in shock as the realization dawns on you. The pieces start to fit together—the familiarity, the way he seemed to know you, the concern in his eyes.
“Tim?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he removes his mask, revealing the face of your childhood friend. Tim’s eyes are filled with vulnerability and a hint of fear, as if he’s terrified of what you might say next.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you for so long. I wanted to protect you, but I ended up hurting you instead.”
Your heart races as you take in his words, the weight of his confession settling over you. The anger, confusion, and longing that have been building up inside you finally find an outlet.
“I thought,” he pauses, finding the words, “if I stayed away, you would be safe. You’d find other people and you wouldn’t need me anymore.” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t stay away. You weren’t selfish [Name]. I was.”
The night seems to stretch on, the air tense with unspoken words. You look at Tim, still grappling with the shock of his revelation. His vulnerability pierces through the stoic facade you’ve seen him wear as Red Robin. The weight of his confession hangs heavy between you, stirring emotions you’ve kept buried.
You get up and start walking away.
Tim winces and reaches out to you. “[Name]–”
You whirl around. “I told you to leave me alone ,” you snarl. “So you go and play nice with me in your stupid costume? You pity me or something?”
Tim's expression shifts, hurt flashing across his features before he schools it into a mask of determination. "No, it's not pity. I care about you, [Name]. I've always cared." His voice is earnest, pleading almost, as if he's trying to convey the depth of his feelings without fully exposing himself.
You start pacing. “God, everything I told you–”
“I was just worried about you–”
“I trusted you.” you whisper.
He looks up at you, his expression pained. “I know I messed up. I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”
“Yes, you should have,” you snap, the anger rising in you like a tidal wave. “You had no right to decide for me.”
“You’re right, it was wrong.”
“Wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you retort, your voice trembling now with a mix of anger and hurt. “Tim, I thought you were my friend.”
“I am your friend,” he insists, his voice desperate now, pleading for you to understand. “I’ve always been your friend. I–”
“[Name],” he pleads. “I love you.”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his confession crashing into you like a rogue wave. Tim stands before you, vulnerable and raw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding, of forgiveness.
“That’s why I did the things that I did.” His hand reaches out to gently take yours. “Because I thought I wasn't enough for you, and I know I don’t deserve you, but I still love you.”
His hand, warm and trembling, rests gently over yours. The city lights cast a soft glow on his face, revealing the sincerity in his eyes. Your emotions churn in a tumultuous sea of anger, hurt, and disbelief, struggling to find their place amidst his confession.
For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Tim's gaze never wavers from yours, a mixture of hope and fear etched into his features.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“I know.”
“I deserve better.”
“I know.”
You sigh deeply, head dropping. “Maybe it’s too late,” you say quietly, your voice wavering. “Maybe we’ve both changed too much.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re so unfair,” you growl, eyes growing wet. “I was trying to move on, and then you just come and do this.”
Tim winces.
You run a hand down your face tiredly. “And I still love you. God. Maybe I hate myself just as much as I hate you.”
“Don’t say that about yourself–”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.”
You point both fingers at his face. “You. You owe me so much.”
He nods rapidly. “I’m talking months, years of making this up to me,” you say, eyes looking into his. “You’re gonna do anything I ask and tell me anything I want to know.”
“Whatever you want, pretty.”
You raise a brow. He purses his lips. “Sorry. You’re kind of hot right now.”
“I’m always hot.”
“You’re right, I apologize.”
You glance at Tim, your anger softening. Despite everything, his familiar charm still manages to tug at your heartstrings. You let out a resigned sigh, realizing that beneath the hurt and confusion, there's a part of you that still cares deeply for him.
Your hands cup his face. “I’m going to kiss you now. You don’t deserve it, but I want it. And this will be the only one you get for a while.”
Tim’s eyes widen, and he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what’s about to happen. He places his hands on your waist, tightening when you don’t bat him off.
As you lean in, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your lips meet his in a kiss that is both fierce and tender, a complex blend of longing and frustration. The contact is electrifying, igniting a myriad of feelings that have been pent up for too long. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving just the two of you amidst the city lights and the quiet of the rooftop.
Tim responds with a desperateness that contrasts with the tenderness of your kiss. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear. The kiss lingers, neither of you rushing to pull away, savoring the connection despite the turmoil that surrounds it.
Tim presses a few fleeting kisses as you pull away. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry at all. “Who knows when you’ll let me kiss you again.”
“You’re such a loser. Why do I love you.”
His smile goes stupid. He shoves his face into your neck. “You love me.”
You sigh, leaning into his embrace despite yourself. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
The two of you stand on the rooftop, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city sprawled out beneath you. In that moment, amidst the complexities and uncertainties of life, you find a sense of peace—a realization that perhaps, despite the changes and challenges, some things are meant to endure.
“I’ll do right by you,” he vows.
You nod, feeling a bittersweet satisfaction. The process of healing and rebuilding trust will take time, but there’s a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, things can start to mend. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “Let’s just take things one step at a time. I don’t want to rush this or force anything.”
Tim wraps his arms around you, his hold gentle but reassuring. “You won’t be. I want this bad. But whatever you want.”
Eventually, and hesitantly, Tim pulls away from you. “It’s late. Please let me take you home.”
He offers his hand, and you take it.
Tim struggles to let go of your hand as you open your front door. You compromise with a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Tim.”
His face goes red. “Goodnight, [Name],” he replies, his voice carrying a note of hope and promise.
You close the door behind you, feeling a renewed sense of clarity. The complexities of your emotions are still there, but you have a newfound hope that things can be mended. The city outside continues its nocturnal dance, but up on the rooftop, amidst the shared moments and honest confessions, you’ve found a glimmer of possibility. And for now, that’s enough.
notes: tim only went up to you at that gala because of his parents, but his little 8 year old self saw a cutie and said fuck it we in this for life
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