#im back on my bullshit - at least for a moment

[gemharvest]

Need to get on top of whatever dumb fucking inferiority complex I got going on I'm tired of looking at everything about myself and going "Wow I am really sub-par." I know it's 2am but this isn't the midnight thoughts talking this is a fucking persistent curse throughout my day.

[captainsparklefingers]

It feels really weird doing this xD but I guess talking about asking for help/feedback/generally venting about stuff (minor or otherwise) is always gonna feel weird? Is that what I'm doing right now? I have no idea. But anyway, writing it all out will hopefully help get it off my chest and I can try to move on to practical things. Mregh.

So I'm working on a series of oneshots about the first year of Kingsley's life (it was initially gonna be just the first six months before M9 Reunited but then I had some ideas that would only make sense after that, so here we are), and I've managed to get exactly one of them done so far. Which is good! I've got a second one in the works and a list of ideas for the others, buuuut I've managed to get myself stuck in the middle of the second one. Turns out it's hard to write Caduceus and Kingsley interactions when you have nothing to base them on XD and I guess that means I need a beta/somebody to bounce ideas off of. My regular beta (who is a wonderful person and one of my closest friends and who I love very much) is busy with real life stuff like work, so I don't want to bother them, and the people I want to ask to take a look at stuff and get ideas from are busy with their own fics and projects, and I don't want to bother them either. So here we are. I have anxiety up the wazzoo for a lot of things, including this, so it feels weird just putting a Tumblr post out there asking for help with something as silly as a fanfic...

And I'm always sort of afraid of writing Kingsley 'wrong', if that makes sense. Like, I know he's not Lucien or Molly, he's himself and there are echos of them in him, but with my whole belief that the memories of the previous purples are still there (just locked up until he's ready and comfortable enough as Kingsley to take them back and not get overwhelmed by them) and they sometimes leak out (the problem traveling with your past lives family is there's plenty of triggers there for stuff to slip through the cracks without context), and I worry that that makes it seem like I'm trying to turn him into Molly when I swear that's not what I'm thinking at all. So there's THAT layer to the anxiety as well.

So here I am with one one shot done, one about halfway done that I need a bit of a push with, and a list of ideas that I haven't started in on yet because I haven't gotten the second one done, and a lot of nerves about never getting anything done. Like, I'm not even gonna tag this because this is mostly just me trying to work out my anxiety about stuff (but uh if anyone is interested in helping or looking at some Kingsley stuff lemme know I guess), and I hope it helps. I've been having a lot of anxiety and nervousness about a lot of crap lately, and compared to other stuff, this is just such a minor bullshit thing to get wound up about.

God, anxiety SUCKS, y'all. It's the stupidest most irrational thing. Like 'ooh you wanted to do this as a fun lil side project to keep the creative juices going during downtime at work NOPE YOU'RE OBSESSED AND NERVOUS NOW ENJOY FEELING WEIRD WHENEVER YOU'RE AT YOUR LAPTOP FOR UNRELATED REASONS'.

[springcatalyst]

thinking back to when a friend was like "yeah I was packing and I think I left it in [university building]" and idk how universal this is but to me packing means packing HEAT. as in aGUN

so I was like man I dont think u shouldve had that on campus theyve got like. rules

thus began the solid 30 seconds of a withering look before I realized WAIT

YOU MEANT YOUR DICK

[90363462]

That’s why it’s this mood ever since December 2022 and afterwards

And heavy on the word fuck!

the way so many men went from “she’s lying, she didn’t get shot” (as if faking getting shot even to ER doctors is super doable) about Megan Thee Stallion to “she did get shot but she’s a rat for saying who it was” is crazy. they were saying Megan should be charged for “lying about being shot” yet they apparently don’t think actually shooting a woman should come with any serious penalties. it’s clear as day that they truly just don’t see violence against women as a problem and they want to punish women for not accepting it.

[tgcg]

candid detail. my biggest project so far

hey happy new year

CG: DAVE?

TG: yeah?

CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: oh shit

===

TG: yeah whats up

TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances

CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.

TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset

TG: lay it on me

===

CG: OKAY. SO.

…

CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.

===

TG: oh

CG: LET ME FINISH.

CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…

===

CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?

TG: what

TG: us

CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.

CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"

CG: "WHO?"!!!!

TG: now thats fucked up

CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?

===

TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats

TG: wait

TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases

CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…

CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.

===

TG: damn

CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.

CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."

===

TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab

CG: THANK YOU.

===

CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.

CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.

CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.

CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.

CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.

===

TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population

TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways

CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.

TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point

===

TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention

TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display

TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor

TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone

CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?

TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what

TG: must be the size of

===

TG: jupiter

===

TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio

TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance

CG: PFFFT.

TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit

TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal

CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.

===

TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me

TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome

TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me

TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit

===

TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story

CG: I HEAR YOU.

TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad

TG: but

===

TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff

CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.

TG: gotcha and no

CG: OBVIOUSLY.

TG: but anyways dude look

===

TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes

TG: not a good way of looking at it

TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me

TG: like they are in a way but

TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you

CG: …

===

TG: so

TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit

TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow

CG: HUH.

===

TG: and i mean plus

===

TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so

TG: yknow

===

CG: WHAT?

TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it

CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.

CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: its besides the point anyways

===

TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things

CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.

CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.

CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.

===

TG: heh yeah

HAHAH.

===

CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?

TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already

CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?

TG: yes dude

CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.

TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot

CG: STRUT POD

TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion

TG: youre gonna regret doubting me

CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.

TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do

CG: GO ON THEN.

===

TG: …

TG: pass

CG: EXACTLY.

CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.

TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too

CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.

===

TG: but also

TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes

CG: Y--

TG: let me finish

TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also

TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important

TG: ok not "have" just

TG: how the fuck do i phrase that

TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down

TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do

TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it

CG: …

===

TG: karkat i meant it

CG: … THANKS.

TG: no problem

[littlelamy]

rafe spiraling at the house party because you’re there with your new bf and he’s jealous and he’s all like “if you wanna whisper some bullshit behind my back why don’t you just say it to my face” and he hates that smug look on your face it infuriates him. the fact that you’re able to move on from him and his blood boils just thinking about it

a/n: im think of making a pt.2 where he begs to get you back but idk🤭 thank you for sending a request!!

the music’s pounding in your chest, the low hum of conversation filling the air as you laugh at something your boyfriend just said. you feel a bit lighter tonight, like you can breathe, finally moving on from all the chaos rafe brought into your life. but as you glance across the room, you lock eyes with him, and all that ease disappears.

rafe is leaning against the kitchen counter, jaw tight, eyes dark. he’s been staring at you for the longest, barely blinking, his grip so tight on the cup in his hand you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. he looks furious, like he can barely keep it together.

"fuckin’ knew she was gonna be here," you hear him mutter to topper, his voice slurred with alcohol and anger. topper shakes his head, tries to calm him down, but rafe’s already in his head, spiraling.

you can see the storm brewing from across the room, but you don’t care. at least, you tell yourself you don’t. you stand a little closer to your boyfriend, let your hand brush his arm, all while keeping an eye on rafe. you know what he’s like when he’s pissed off, and tonight’s no exception.

suddenly, rafe pushes off the counter, stumbling forward until he’s in the middle of the room. his eyes never leave you. the noise of the party dulls, or maybe it’s just that all your attention is on him now, the way he’s zeroed in on you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this moment.

he doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you, his chest heaving like he’s holding back every insult he’s been dying to spit out.

"if you wanna whisper some bullshit behind my back, why don’t you just say it to my face?" he growls, slapping his cheek. his voice is venomous, dripping with jealousy, and his eyes flick from you to your boyfriend, barely concealing the rage underneath.

your boyfriend stands a little taller, his arm shifting like he’s about to say something, but you place a hand on his chest, stopping him before he gets involved. this isn’t his fight.

“what’s your problem, rafe?” you ask calmly, that smug smile already tugging at your lips because you know exactly what’s driving him insane. you can see it, feel it radiating off him—he can’t stand seeing you with someone else.

rafe steps closer, the scent of alcohol strong on his breath. “my problem?” he scoffs, taking another step forward until he’s right in your face. “my fuckin’ problem is you, princess. standing here with the punk like it doesn’t even fuckin’ matter.”

topper’s behind him, pulling at his shoulder, whispering something in his ear, but rafe shrugs him off like he doesn’t even feel it. “get the fuck off me,” he snaps, brushing topper’s hand away. “i’m not done.”

you stay rooted in place, meeting his gaze without flinching. he hates that, how unfazed you seem, like you’re not even bothered by his presence.

“you don’t scare me anymore, rafe,” you say, voice steady but laced with a bitterness that matches his anger. “you don’t get to control me.”

“control?” rafe’s eyes narrow. “i wasn’t tryin’ to control shit. i was tryin’ to fuckin’ love you, and you—” he stops himself, jaw clenching, his fists balling at his sides as he grits out, “you just threw it all away.”

the smugness in your smile only grows. “i threw it away?” you laugh under your breath, stepping closer to him, closing the gap so it’s just you and him in this moment. you lean in, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “you should’ve treated me right when you had me.”

rafe stiffens at your words, his breath catching in his throat as you pull back, locking eyes with him. he doesn’t say anything for a second, just stares at you like he’s trying to figure out what to do with all the emotions flooding his system. his blood is boiling, you can practically see it in the way his skin flushes, the way his hands tremble.

“fuck you,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. his eyes flash with something dark, something dangerous. “you’ll come back. you always do.”

topper’s back at his side now, grabbing him with more force, dragging him away from you before things get any worse. rafe fights it for a second, his eyes still locked on you, but eventually, he stumbles back, letting topper pull him out of the room.

but even as he’s led away, you can feel the intensity of his gaze on you. his world is spiraling, crashing down, and all because of you.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[norrizzandpia]

I JUST READ You Were Never What I Wanted AND NOW I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE

IT WAS SO GOOD

IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART (if u decide to post it)

YOURE WRITING IS AMAZING <333

Yall ask and yall shall receive! Part 1 link if you need it <3

But I Need You Now (You Were Never What I Wanted, Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: In the aftermath of Lando and Y/n, Lando makes it his personal mission to show Y/n that it wasn’t fake. Their PR stunt might’ve started out as a lie, but it was love for him and he knows it was for her too.

Warnings: language, angsty, FLUFF AT THE END BITCHES AS AN APOLOGY FOR THE HELL I PUT YOU THROUGH WITH THESE TWO-PARTERS, sexual conversations

Note: see what I did with the title… 😏 You were never what I wanted, but I need you now 🤭 also i made this less angsty as an apology again 👹

Y/n goes home for a few days.

The news spreads throughout the paddock like a virus, being whispered in every person’s ear. When it gets back to Lando, he stands in the midst of the chaos in McLaren’s garage.

Jon leaves his hand on Lando’s shoulder in a comforting manner, knowing something happened between them, but not knowing the specific details.

“She left?” He says lowly, voice wavering as he tries to gain control of it.

Jon nods, “I’m afraid so.”

“What about the race?” He asks, hands clenching at his sides.

“She’s having the reserve driver take her place. You know that.” Jon gives him a confused look.

Lando shakes his head, “No, I get that, but how could she just give up on it?”

Jon sighs and Lando can tell his trainer doesn’t want to tell him the next bit of information. He does anyway, “I heard she was pretty distraught after that gala a week ago. Apparently, she was sobbing and the valet had to help her call a cab. She was a mess, I gather, no one knows why.”

I do, he thinks. I know why, Lando thinks.

Lando abandons the conversation, not wanting to hear anymore about the girl he loves.

She plagues his dreams, his nightmares, his delusions, his thoughts, he doesn’t need her to infiltrate his life anymore.

🏎️

“What’s the problem?” He asks an hour later when Jon treats him like he’s about to have a mental breakdown at any moment.

His trainer eyes him suspiciously, gently, “Nothing,”

Lando groans, arms flying out beside him before smacking down back at his sides, “Jon, cut the bullshit. You’ve been treating me like I’m a fucking baby all day. Why?”

Jon sighs, turning to look at him before grabbing his arm and pulling them out of the garage. Jon forces them into a random hallway always away from the commotion and publicity, looking at Lando softly, “What happened between you and Y/n?”

Suddenly, Lando’s defensive. The mention of her name makes his skin crawl and his heart clench, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You two were dating.”

Lando rolls his eyes, “We were not dating. We were a PR stunt. You know that, Jon.”

Jon stares him down, “You two were dating.”

The meaning of his words hits Lando, what Jon truly is trying to address. He’s drowning in the mistakes of his own actions and the love he developed for her, no way to explain his way out of the situation with Jon looking at him knowingly.

He folds his arms over his chest, “Maybe in the end.”

Jon’s face scrunches up in confusion, “In the end? Of course, you were. Did you sleep together?”

“Fuck, no!” Lando yelps, astonishment at Jon’s bluntness, a trait the man has never had when it came to his romantic relationships.

Jon shakes his head, confusion deepening, “Then how the fuck did you two end up where you are? How did you end up in this mess? Which you still have not told me about.”

He sighs, head falling to stare at his shoes, “I fell in love with her. She fell in love with me. Well, at least I think.”

Jon, the man so incredibly lost, looks blankly at Lando, “You fell in love. With Y/n. Y/l/n. The woman you used to absolutely detest. The woman who used to hate your guts. You two fell in love with each other?”

Lando nods, “I know how it sounds, but it happened.”

Jon’s head tilts to the side, “Okay, and what happened the night of the gala?”

Jon sees the shift of Lando’s demeanor, his entire body running cold with images of her walking out on him. The boy’s body running cold, he tries to get through the night that ruined it all, “Everything was fine in the beginning. We were just talking to a bunch of donors. You know, we got so many that night. Anyways, we were at the bar and being stupid as always, getting drunk, when Lu showed up.”

“Lu as is your ex?” Jon clarifies.

Lando nods, “Yeah, so she came up to us and we just got to talking. She mentioned the fact that we still talk.”

Jon’s mouth falls open, “You and Lu still talk?!”

“Not anymore, not after the gala. She basically cut off contact with me because she ‘hated the way it made her feel when she saw the look on Y/n’s face’. But, at that time, we had been. I should’ve told Y/n when we started getting serious, but I didn’t and that came back to bite me in the ass because she was so betrayed, Jon.”

“So, she walked out of the gala because she was angry about you and Lu?”

“Yeah, she basically told me I didn’t care about her in the way she thought I had, which wasn’t true. I told her I loved her and then shit just went completely downhill after that.”

Jon’s hand squeezes Lando’s arm, “You told her you loved her?”

There’s a flash of sadness in Lando’s eyes and Jon knows it’s because of the painful rejection. He’s learning that Y/n might’ve started out as one of the people Lando cared about the least, but she had quickly become the center of his entire world.

“Of course, I did. But, she didn’t believe me. I don’t blame her too! The start of our relationship was built specifically on hatred. We never wanted anything to do with each other and then, all of a sudden, we were kissing and it was feeling like something more.”

A silence passes before Lando whispers, “Sometimes I wish I never would’ve met her.”

Jon chuckles, “You’ve said that before.”

Lando scoffs, “Yeah, but that was because I hated her. This is because I can’t deal with the fact that she left me.”

“Have you tried to talk to her?” Jon inquires, eyes roaming Lando’s face in search of an answer.

“No,” Lando responds, grief and remorse soaking his tone.

“Well, maybe that’s where you need to start.” Jon smiles.

“In order to do what?” Lando’s lost on the insinuation.

“In order to get her back.”

It’s heartbreaking the way Lando stares up at Jon as if he’d just single-handedly restored all senses of hope and happiness into his body, “You think I can do that?”

“I think that you and her loved each other too much to let it go to waste this way.”

Maybe you’re right, he thinks. Maybe I need to find out for myself, he thinks.

—

Y/n, the girl he hated so much for the love she made him feel, was locked up in her room of her childhood home, information Lando gained from her mother who he had called quietly. It was the first time they had spoken, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard of him. Her daughter had shown up in the middle of the night, sobbing to her over a boy and berating herself for allowing a man to hurt her in the way he had.

However, with the undying kindness Y/n shared, she had patiently heard Lando out as he explained to her the feelings he harbored for her daughter. Strong words of love had persuaded her into giving Lando their address and giving him permission to come. After all, she saw the way her daughter’s Lock Screen lit up with a loving picture of them every time Y/n got a notification. She clocked the picture as the room where Y/n had been hospitalized after her crash, Lando laying on the bed beside her with his arm wrapped safely around her shoulders, a kiss to her cheek as she smiled at the camera.

Bags packed and in hand, Lando stands in front of her house, hood pulled over his head with sunglasses shoved over his eyes. He takes two steps at a time, bypassing multiple steps in the process as he reaches the front door in no time.

Knocking on the wood, Lando waits patiently before the lock is turning and her mother is appearing before him. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she smiles softly at him, a smile resembling the one Y/n had adorned him with before he made her feel less than the most important person in his life.

“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you for this.” He says quietly, not wanting Y/n to hear him and get scared.

She nods at him, opening the door and letting him step in, “As much as you hurt my daughter, I think this space is effecting her worse.”

He lingers in the doorway, nerves getting to him as he stares at the steps in front of him, steps he assumes would lead him to her.

Her mother notices his eyes, “She’s up there if you want to go.”

He takes a step toward them, but takes on back and looks at her with tension in his face, “Do you think she’ll want to see me?”

Her mother’s head moves side to side, “I think, at first, she’ll be mad, but she’ll warm up. I know she still loves you, that’s still there.”

He nods, “What should I say?”

His words relay quietly and her mother lays a hesitant hand on his arm, “Why are you here? Why are you fighting for her?”

His answer comes easily, “Because I love her. Because, after years of hating each other, I realize that I never truly, fully hated her. I hated that she was better than me and the fact that she was winning races more than I was, but I never hated her. I never gave her a chance to show me who she was and it took someone forcing us to be together for me to see how amazing she is. I’m remorseful for that, of course, but I’m happy it happened. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have realized the happiness that was standing in front of me all along.”

Her mother smiles brightly at him, “Tell her that.”

🏎️

The door creaks as Lando pushes it open, head poking in to see her laying with her back to him.

“Mom, can I just have some time alone right now?” Her broken voice whispers, curling further into herself as Lando steps in and closes the door.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to walk over to her bed and sit down. The mattress is larger, putting space between them so he’s not touching her.

“I can hear you breathing. Please leave.” She says again, this time pleading desperately.

Lando exhales before lifting his hand and laying it on her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles lovingly. He feels her body tense, her head looking down to inspect the fingers wrapped around her skin.

She pulls away quickly, sitting up and whipping her head around to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be at the race!” She yells at him, shifting farther away from him.

He hates how tired she looks, how puffy her eye bags are from a mixture of exhaustion and tears. His body turns to completely face hers, his leg being pulled onto the bed, “Your mom gave me the address and I got the reserve driver to cover for me.”

Y/n scoffs, “Okay, why would my mother do that?”

“Because she knows I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes glaze over, iciness translating in her every move, “How would she know that?”

“I called her.” He states simply, watching her eyebrows stitch together.

Her head tilts, “How did you get her number?”

“From Nick.”

Y/n body rears back, “My trainer?! You coerced my trainer into giving you my mother’s phone number?! Are you fucking crazy?!”

“For you, yes.” He smiles softly. His comment earns an eye roll.

“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begins, but Y/n raises her hands in objection.

“No, Lando. Leave me alone. I appreciate the effort, but leave.” Her hands push his arms, doing nothing to move him.

He gently takes her hands in his and shifts closer to her, “No. I’m not leaving until you hear what I have to say.”

Knowing how stubborn he is, Y/n sits back and gestures for him to continue.

“When I first met you, I hated the success you had.” He starts.

Y/n laughs, “What a great start!”

“Let me finish.” He states, “I hated the success you had and I was dumb enough, young enough to think that meant I hated you too. So, I spent years resenting everything that had to do with you. I never gave myself one moment to reflect on the reasoning for my dislike of you. If I had, we wouldn’t be here right now. Part of me hates that, hates that I spent so much time treating you in a way you never deserved, but another part of me, the part that has fallen so hard for you, is happy it didn’t. If I had realized that I was just jealous of the race wins you were claiming, I would’ve been cordial with you, never getting close enough to get to know who you are out of the envy I held against you. If it had gone down that way, I would’ve never gotten to meet you. And I mean the person you really are, underneath all the PR trained, guarded skin. I would’ve never fallen in love with you, never experienced you and the happiness you have provided me with. It took us so long to get here, through hurtful insults and screaming matches, I can’t let you slip through my fingers, your love with it, because of my stupid mistakes. I won’t let that happen.”

Y/n stays quiet after he completes his last sentence, staring at him as she decides what she wants to do next.

Softly, she says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Lu?”

He sighs disappointedly, “I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t think it meant that much. In my head, I didn’t love her. I was just ending a relationship on good terms. I didn’t think far enough to get to you. I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and sit you down, explain to you what Lu and I were doing, the fact that it meant nothing compared to what I feel towards you, I would. You deserve that conversation. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I hope it does. She was never going to mean the same thing to me as she had before after I first kissed you. Truthfully, she never did mean the same thing to me as you do. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”

Y/n nods slowly, gathering her thoughts, “When did you start loving me? When did it stop being hate? Because that night at the gala, at the end of our conversation, you hated me again.”

Lando shakes his head, “First of all, I didn’t hate you that night. I was just hurt and it translated to something ugly, which I can’t apologize enough for. Second of all, I don’t know when I genuinely started loving you, but I know I realized it when you crashed. When I was running throughout the paddock, I could not get away from the heavy pit in my stomach that only pointed toward one thing, I knew that. I tried to push it away, tried to forget about it, but when I saw you laying there, bandaged and alive, it just hit me. I loved that you were still there, I loved the relief that spread through me, I loved the happiness I felt when I saw you breathing, and, then, I just loved you. It built exactly like that. I was just listing the things, in my head, I adored about the moment in order to get away from the severity of it, and then it was just you. You, you, you, you.”

Y/n’s small smile graces his eyes and he moves closer to her, sitting with his legs folded on the bed and his hands over her thighs. The two of them breathe each other in before Y/n is shuffling closer to him. His arms immediately move from her legs to snake around her torso, folding open his legs and pulling her into him. She lays her shoulder against his chest, her head falling to the side to nuzzle in his neck as her legs spread in front of her, lying over his thigh. She plays with the hem of his hoodie as he kisses her temple, laying his head on top of hers.

“You know, I love you too.” She says into his neck. A warmth spreads through Lando, happiness buzzing all the way down to his toes at her confession.

It’s all he’s ever wanted to hear, “I had an inkling.”

She lightly smacks his stomach, giggling, “Don’t be a smart ass.”

Just as he’s about to rebuttal, his phone begins vibrating harshly in his back pocket. His arm reaches around to pull it out, Jon’s face illuminating the screen.

Y/n laughs, “Can I answer it?”

The idea makes him shine with pride, knowing Jon will be proud to hear Lando’s gotten his girl back. So, he plops the phone in her lap with a smile.

Clicking the green button, Y/n puts it on speaker.

“Lando? Did you get there okay? Have you spoken to her yet?” Jon’s rushed voice says quickly.

Y/n gives Lando a playful look before answering, “He got here okay.”

There’s a silence before Jon is cackling, “AHA! IS HE THERE?! LANDO, I TOLD YOU!”

The couple laughs at his antics, Lando moving closer to the speaker to say, “I’m here and I’m starting to think I should listen to you more.”

There’s shuffling on the other end of the phone before they hear Jon screaming to, what they assume is, the entire McLaren garage, “LANDO AND Y/N, GUYS!”

Again, silence, murmuring even, before the entire room erupts in cheers. Lando can hear it’s just his crew, the group of men knowing how much it stressed Lando out to have her mad at him, the reason she was, they didn’t know.

Y/n and Lando break into tears over their laughter at the men on the other end of the phone. It’s therapeutic to see her laughing in his arms again, a sight Lando didn’t think he would see again.

She’s leaning into him as the men continue to cheer, holding him as her body racks with laughter and all he can do is hold her closer, tighter.

He holds her like she’ll leave him again if he lets go, a thought he knows is so preposterous. Because she’s got her eyes closed, blissed out in his presence and he can see the lines of tension wither away.

She’s safe with him, she shows that through the way she hugs him and softly kisses the side of his neck when he ends the call.

When the noise stops and quietness envelopes them, the couple is left with just each other. He lays them down, her body relaxing into him as she murmurs how much sleep she’s lost over their dispute.

He whispers back, “Go to sleep, then, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He watches her eyes flutter close, her head falling further into the crook of his neck when she crosses the line between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Lando’s not tired, however, only laying down with her because he’s not ready to let her go yet. His eyes wander around her childhood room, pictures of a toddler Y/n winning karting races and different championships. Her toothy grin is a charming sight, a look she hasn’t lost in the years of her growth since then.

After inspecting and finding nothing, but more things to love about her, Lando’s eyes avert back to her sleeping form. He brushes the hair out of her face lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering against it, “At first, you weren’t what I wanted, but I absolutely need you now.”

Tags (i forgot to put these lol): @toasttt11 @megumilovesme @the-untamed-soul @evieepepi08 @igotnorrrizz @im-an-overthinker @cxrlha @ssrcsm @landoslover @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @louvpdf @weasleyreidstyles @ushygushybaby @theycallmeahugger @sainzluvrr @itsjustaninchident @gavisuntiedboot @gracielukey @formula1mount @cjjydes282clo @ssararuffoni @aexitizen

[biolumien]

... carried flower petals

pt 2 to this

notes: I AM. such a bad writer. help. going through double the stages of grief on this one. who even cares. who even gaf! i don't. im winning in the dgaf wars. (lying)

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader NSFW! w/ m/f sex. no i did not proofread this. this isn't a flex i actively just squinted trying not to look too hard at my own writing. this is also hoshina pov word count: 2415

hoshina supposes that he couldn’t blame you for your reaction. there was no way you would have been happy about marrying him, a complete and utter stranger–no matter how many times you might have met prior. and in the three times you’d met, he’d tried to keep his distance. there was an aura of deep discontent about you, and he didn’t want to disturb you, for fear that your anger would turn darker.

at least, until you pulled a dagger on him.

the dagger that he’d gifted you, no less. 

or, well–he hadn’t gifted it to you directly. he had selected the gift, but it had come alongside the marriage offer–and so hoshina wondered if you’d conflated the dagger as something utterly negative. when he’d picked out the dagger, he’d vowed it to keep you safe from harm. a selfish well-wishing on his part, sure–as a samurai, he was bound to make enemies that could hurt you.

he raises a hand to his neck, touching where you might have slashed him.

would he have let you? 

he brings himself to his feet as the sliding door to his room opens. you stand in the doorway, dressed in a simple nightgown–a far cry from the garments you wore during the ceremony. 

his mind flits back to them, for a moment–you’d chosen to wear pure white, contrasting him in his black haori and hakama. your expression had been severe, distant even then. you’d followed your new attendants into the quarters of your new housing within the hoshina clan’s home to change out of your wedding attire, and you hadn’t met his glance once.

you bow your head.

“your attendants tell me you’re quite the talent in bed,” you say, your voice crisp. your eyes meet his, your gaze unreadable. his eyes flick to your hands, folded neatly in front of you–and yet your fingers are fidgeting ever so slightly, a possible indication of just how nervous you were. 

hoshina can’t help but laugh.

“is that what they say? my mother can’t help but find people that run their mouths…” hoshina runs a hand through his hair. “sit. i can’t have my wife–” the word still felt foreign to him–wife, he was really a husband, was that even a moniker that fit him?–but he swallows his misgivings, pats one of the cushions next to the futon. “–standing for so long. it would be unfitting.”

“so are you?” you gather your kimono, sitting down. 

hoshina hums.

“if i tell you, would you see me differently?” hoshina asks.

“well. you’re my husband,” you say. the corners of your lips twitch when you say the word husband, your brow furrowing a little bit as you say it. a clear show of your definite displeasure. “i have to… accept it, after all. as your wife. hell, your attendants tell me that you were in the process of courting concu–”

“ahh,” hoshina leans his head back. “so is that what that’s all about?” he sighs, a strange, tightening pressure forming somewhere in his throat. the marriage acceptance hadn’t been on his end. it’d been his father’s, much to his mother’s chagrin. you were from a no-name clan, having long lost your family’s relevance. his mother had complained about your family’s name dragging down the hoshina family’s name.

but as hoshina reminisced–he couldn’t give a damn about his family name.

his brother–his proud, arrogant, stubborn, awful brother–had made his opinion on their family name very clear, by just leaving.

hoshina did resent him for it, just a little. it just meant that he couldn’t run away, now. 

“no. the concubine rumor’s bullshit,” hoshina says. “quite honestly, i couldn’t be bothered. i’m not in the interest of producing my family an heir.”

“huh?” you ask, sounding confused. “but–” “i mean. the sex is fine,” hoshina says candidly, placidly. “and if the family gets an heir, we get an heir. but it’s never been my concern. i think you ought not to worry about it, either. our families need each other. it’ll be reason enough for you to stay.” 

you stare at him, perplexed for the moment, before your brow also furrows. 

“so, you… don’t, want—”

“mm. you pulled a knife on me last time we talked,” hoshina teases as he begins to undo his ponytail. “i thought that made your opinion on me fairly clear. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable if you don’t want it. my folks won’t be happy, but there’s nothing like lying that can’t fix that.” he runs a hand through his hair. “so it’s your call.”

you watch him. 

“it’s fine,” you say. you lean in closer to him, and he simply watches you—watches you like he did on the first day the two of you met, watches you like he did when you raised the dagger to his throat. always watching, waiting for you to make the first move. 

“i’d rather just get it over with,” you say. “the first time.” 

“mm. as you command, then,” hoshina says. 

when he leans in to kiss you, he does it slowly. you taste faintly of the sake you drank during the marriage ceremony, though the alcohol has long worn off. 

he wishes he could take you apart more cleanly. to take you apart with intention. he can draw the lines from the veins in your wrist to the beating, fluttering of your heart in your breast. you kiss him with your eyes open, as if you’re watching for his every movement. he supposes that he’s watching you, too, trying to see what you’ll do. what you like. 

“are you just going to kiss me?” you murmur, something like spite in your voice. “or are you actually going to show me something interesting?” 

“interesting?” he pulls back from the kiss, raising an eyebrow. 

“i’ve read all the woodcuts,” you say. “as apparently was my duty as your wife. i was just wondering if there was anything more interesting than that.” 

“mm. you can’t possibly learn what it feels like through reading alone,” hoshina says. “experience is the best teacher.”

“big talk,” you retort. hoshina almost hates the way his heart flutters at your words, entranced by you. one hand reaches out to touch your face, the other hand gently reaching down to undo your obi as he pulls you closer to him, letting you straddle his lap. 

“i’m afraid most of my lovers say i’m a talkative one,” hoshina purrs. “but i hope you’ll find me satisfactory.” when he leans in to kiss you again, your sash falls gently onto the ground, and the inner layers of your kimono come undone.  

he’s had no small share of lovers—or, well, general brothel experience, he supposes. he’s a man in the end—a samurai from a family of renown, for whom many lovers might have found him appealing simply for how much money he was willing to pay for good service. but he knows what he’s doing, in any case.

he revels in it, though—at how responsive and jittery you seem to be. the faintest touch of his hand against your skin is enough to make you jolt out of your skin, and you whimper ever so slightly as his fingers pull at a nipple, and he feels your pulse jump in your throat as his teeth graze at your neck. he feels you shift against him, attempt to press your thighs together and he laughs. 

he’s surprised there, too—the way you shudder when he laughs, as he’s pressed against you. 

when his fingers seek between your legs, he’s thrilled, but still surprised to find the telltale sign of slick. 

“mm. this wet already, really?” hoshina teases. his hand brushes against your inner thigh, coaxing you to spread your legs a little more, and he feels your leg twitch against the shift of his knuckles. “you’re desperate.” 

“as if.” your breath sounds shuddery, and hoshina laughs, not meanly. he wonders how he could take you apart—could he use just his mouth? his fingers? the mere suggestion of touching you, just using words alone? he wanted to know, desperately so. desperately in the same way he wanted to know your heart, if only you’d let him. but in the meantime, he smiles—and it’s more of a smirk. 

he takes his fingers to his mouth, sucking the wetness from his fingers, and he revels in the way you flush, a half-scandalized and half-flustered sound escaping your mouth. 

“it’s alright,” hoshina says, teasing. 

“i don’t—need you to tell me it’s alright,” you say, flustered. “i just—”

“less talking from you,” hoshina says, fondly. gently. he’s entranced by you, the swell of your breast and the way your skin flushes red from your neck to your collarbones. he wishes he could sink his teeth into your pulse—or would you give him your beating heart, let him devour the tender organ? “you’re doing wonderfully. do you feel up for more?” 

you pause, biting your lip. he marvels at the way your fingers twitch against his in anticipation, and your brow furrows. 

“let—i want to be on top,” you say, and hoshina simply smiles. 

“alright,” he acquiesces. “i’m all yours.”

that much was true. he was learning far too quickly that he was very much a man that would follow you anywhere, that he was at your beck and call. 

you help him undress with shaking hands, pulling his belt away and pushing the kimono from his shoulders. your hands stop for a moment as you survey his chest—hoshina watches your face, propped back and leaning back on his hands. your fingers press against a deep scar against his chest, and your eyes meet his. 

“long story,” hoshina says softly. “not the kind i’d tell my wife on our first night together, anyhow.” 

your hand gently touches his cock and he hisses, practically, wincing at how it feels like too much and not much at all. it takes most of his discipline to not rut up into the touch, to let himself be taken by that pleasure. you gently push him back, letting him lie back against the futon. 

as you lower yourself slowly onto his cock, hoshina watches as your fingers flex against his chest, your eyes squeeze and your toes desperately curl. he shifts his hips a little bit, and you whimper. 

“don’t tease,” you keen. 

“m’not.”

hoshina thinks it’s quite the opposite, really. he’s a patient man, but not this patient. you’re about halfway down his cock at this point, slowly taking him in bit by bit—and then his patience just snaps somehow when he hears you whine again. not in a bad way—just in a he’ll fucking die like this, he’s sure kind of way. 

you gasp immediately as he thrusts up, causing you to bottom out. your hips meet his, and you lean your head back, a loud and desperate moan leaving your lips. 

“y-you awful man,” you moan out, something like a pout in your tone. “i wanted to take my time—”

“mm—hm. sorry,” hoshina teases, not quite apologetic at all. his voice strains a bit—you feel almost like a fire, your cunt desperately squeezing against his cock. “just don’t think i’ll last long with you squeezing me like this. does it feel that good?”

your face flushes, your hair plastered to your forehead. 

“shut up.”

“i’ll take that as a yes, then,” hoshina says, unrepentant in the way he thrusts up into you, reveling in the way you respond to each movement with tiny little whimpers that stretch into longer and longer cries. you don’t say his name, but he finds himself uncaring for the moment. does he wish you’d say his name? does he wish, however selfishly, that this moment might burn itself into your memory?

surely he doesn’t. it would be unbecoming of him to ask that much. 

your hand leans out, digging into his skin, and he lets out a soft, raspy breath, taking your hand into his. 

“‘m close,” you whimper out through shaking breaths, and hoshina’s heart squeezes again, at the way your hips cant against his, as if each touch almost hurts, but you can’t help but continue to press your hips against his, trying to find more traction. hoshina smirks, his free hand reaching out to thumb at your clit, flicking upwards, and tries to see if he can memorize the way you seize up against him, the way you squeeze down on his cock–tries to see if he can memorize every twitch.

he hopes he can.

you cum soon after, and your hand digs into his so hard that he wonders if you might be able to break his fingers one day–and hopes that you can. he holds you tightly against him, letting you ride out the waves of your orgasm as you whimper tiny uh, uh, uhs–until you wince.

“hurts, i–please,” you say, and hoshina takes pity on you for the moment, pulls out, and strokes soothingly at your face. your chest heaves, and hoshina thinks he could get lost in your every motion. as hoshina shifts to move away–he’d rather prioritize your comfort over his in the end, so despite the fact that he was hard to the point it almost hurt, he figured he’d just deal with it on his own—you shift up.

“but you–you didn’t,” you say after a moment, grabbing his wrist. 

“hm?” hoshina hums. “mm. don’t worry about me, dear. i’m more than capable of–fuck, you–” his voice halts right as your hand wraps around his cock, your thumb grazing over the head of it ever so gently. “fuck. you-you don’t have to–”

“please,” you say, something like disdain–or spite? or something, he really couldn’t tell–in your voice. “i can do this much.”

he cums embarrassingly fast–the mixture of being so strung out at this point, so strangely affected, enamored by you–and he can’t help but laugh. he wants to press his face into your collarbone, but he can’t bring himself to cross the distance. he hums, instead, simply exhaling through his teeth for a moment.

“get some rest,” hoshina says. he watches as your face shifts ever so slightly–and he wishes he knew you better, if only so he could understand what you were thinking.

“alright,” you say.

hoshina fears he’s in love.

but the part of him that knows better says he shouldn’t be. he watches silvery moonlight paint the planes of your back, and you turn away from him, lost in sleep. 

he sighs.

[caitlinbueckers]

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

[rosenclaws]

Restless night | Variant!Logan x reader

summary: Logan has nightmares about his world and you want to help.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of bodies (not graphic), sad logan, possibly ooc bc ive never written for him im sorry dfslj. Reader has like, memory manipulation powers? Ig that's how you'd explain them??

a/n: Hello! This is my first Logan fic ever and I am very nervous but after watching Deadpool I have fallen in love with wolverine, particularly this wolverine. I don't know if I'll ever write again for him but I wrote this and felt like sharing so I hope you like it too <3

wc: 1.7k

"Logan!" You yell angrily. He grits his teeth as you slam the door wide open. Curious heads turn towards the two of you as you storm after him. 

"What." He bites back as he continues to walk. 

"Can you just stop for one fucking second!" Your fists clench at your sides as you stop right in front of the front doors. "You are a real asshole, you know that? You're a mutant whether you like it or not. So how about doing something good and helping us." He pulls out a cigar and lights it, blowing the smoke directly into your face. 

"For the last fucking time, I don't want any part of your X-Men bullshit." You sigh and shake your head. So fucking stubborn. 

"We need you Logan, please. I need you please." You place your hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb over his leather jacket. For a moment you think he might stay. Maybe he'll admit for once in his life that he wants the family that waits for him here. Instead he pushes your hand off. Rolls his eyes and walks straight past you. 

"Fuck off." He walks out the doors, letting them slam loudly.

Those were the last words he ever spoke to you. Well, the you that he knew.

"Logan?" He flinches hard as your voice snaps him from his spiral. 

It makes his stomach turn to see you. You look exactly how he remembers. Except you have a scar on your forehead. His eyes focus on that, a reminder that you're not the you he knew. No, in this universe you're Wade's next door neighbor. A mutant who retired from teaching at the mansion and lives a quiet, happy life. At least you're happy in this world. 

"M'fine." He mumbles as he stands up from the table. No one was really paying attention to the two of you as dinner was dying down. You want to say more but he leaves before you can. Sighing, you watch him retreat into his room. He's barely said two words at a time to you. No matter how hard you try he refuses to speak to you. At first you thought you had done something but the few times you've caught him staring you see a terrible sadness in his eyes. You know he's from another timeline and that something went terribly wrong. Your room shares a wall with his and as hard as he tries he can't hide his nightmares.

"Don't worry about him, he's got that tragic backstory kind of character development going." Wade comments. "God knows he could use some therapy but I doubt Marvel would ever green light that movie." You nod absentmindedly, not really listening to Wade's rambling. 

You float around for a little longer until you can silently excuse yourself and go back to your own apartment. Logan stays on your mind the whole time. You wonder if he knew you in his world. If something had happened that made him like this. As you lay in bed you close your eyes and listen, you can hear him tossing and turning. He settles and you silently hope that for once he can sleep through the night. 

It's eerily silent as he stumbles back to the mansion. He stops right outside of the door. His ears alert for the sound of you to see if you were awake yet. Except no matter how hard he listens he can't hear anything. A horrible scent fills his nose and it makes him sick. The smell of blood. Barging through the door's he's met with destruction and bodies.

This is a nightmare, it has to be. He calls your name frantically. Racing through the mansion, begging for anyone to be alive. Instead he finds body after body. Until he stumbles upon yours. He falls to his knees, his hands ghosting over your face. You look so peaceful but you're cold to the touch. Maybe if he had been there, he could have saved you.

His claws unsheathe themselves as white hot rage bubbles to the surface. Without another word he walks out of the mansion with only the thought of killing on his mind. Blood for blood.

Logan's voice is what wakes you up. Even through the walls you can hear him. You can't quite make out what he's saying but it's clearly a nightmare. He's turning wildly. You knock on the wall, hoping maybe it would wake him somehow. Worry builds as he gets louder. 

Suddenly through the walls you hear a resounding shout before metal claws burst through your wall. You can't help but scream as they miss you by only a few inches. Breathing heavily you slowly reach out to touch them but they retract before you can.

"Fuck!" You hear him shout. The sound of scrambling and frantic footsteps following his outburst. A loud knocking fills your apartment as you shake off the shock. Quickly you rush to the door and open it, finding a shirtless Logan standing before you. His eyes scan you for injuries, injuries that he would have caused. He grabs your arms firmly and pushes you inside, closing the door behind him with his foot. 

"Logan I'm okay, just a little startled." You try to reassure him but he doesn't hear you. His mind is snowballing out of control. 

"Logan!" You say louder and he finally looks at you. 

"I'm okay." You say softly. Slowly he loosens his grip as he lets his body relax, but only a little. 

"Another nightmare?" You ask and he nods. His eyes drift to your open bedroom door. He can see the holes left by his claws. Just how close they sit next to your pillow. Guilt floods him as he deflates.

"I..." He doesn't really know what to say. This would be your first real conversation since he came to this world. For years he's thought about what he'd say to you if he was ever gifted the chance. Yet, he stands here completely silent. 

"They're getting worse." You say, breaking the silence. 

Cautiously you reach to take his hand. He closes his eyes as he feels your thumb rub along the top of his hand. He lets you guide him to your bedroom. When you let go he almost reaches out to take it back, but he doesn’t. Instead he turns his attention towards your wall. He’s ruined a fair amount of bed sheets before but this was new. He traces the holes with his hand. Wincing as he notices just how close he was to cutting you open. 

"Sit." You gesture to the empty side of your bed. He hesitates and you huff. 

"Humor me." You plead and he can't find it in himself to say no. 

It's almost too much as he sits down, everything smells like you. Your hands move towards his temples but he grabs your wrists before you can go any further.

"Logan, let me help." He half smiles at that. 

"You were always so persistent about that." Your eyes widen as you realize he's talking about his universe’s you. 

"I told you I didn't want you poking around in my head but you just wanted to help the nightmares. I never let you though" He admits. 

"I should've. I should've stopped being a stubborn ass and just listen to you." His voice wavers and you have a feeling he's not talking about dreams anymore. 

"Then listen to me and let me help you." He lets go of your wrists and looks up at your face. Savoring the look of kindness in your eyes. 

"You don't want to go in here, once you do..." Wordlessly you place your fingers on the side of his head. Suddenly you're overcome with visions of bloodshed and anger. A tear slips down your face as you see flashes of Logan's memories. 

The rage, the hopelessness, the darkness that plagues his mind. Through all of that there was a lurking feeling of indescribable guilt. So much pain, so much sorrow. Logan knocks your hands away as he watches more tears pour down your face. You open your eyes and wipe the tears away. 

"I told you baby," He waits for you to move away from him. To call him a monster. It's what he deserves. To his surprise you wrap your arms around him instead. He buries his face in your shoulder and hugs you tight. 

"I'm so sorry." It’s the last thing he expects to hear and it nearly breaks him.

"What I did.." 

"You were in pain, so much pain." You know it's not easy for him to see but all of this pain led to him becoming the hero he never thought he could be. 

"You saved the world Logan. You're a hero whether you like it or not." He winces as he remembers you say something similar to him before. "And a hero deserves to sleep peacefully, for one night at least."

"You won't stop will you?" You shake your head and he finally relents.

He sinks down into your bed, resting his head on your lap. You bring your fingers back to the side of his head and use your powers to calm his mind. Searching for happy memories and temporarily suppressing the bad ones. Calmness washes over him, a feeling he hasn't felt in years. He's already drifting in and out of sleep but something nags at him from the back of his mind. 

"I loved you. My universe's you." He admits in a whisper. The words he never got to say. It's been eating him alive for decades. He never got to say them to you, he was too much of a coward. 

Your heart skips a beat at his confession and he can hear it. You don't respond, instead offering a comforting hum. He doesn't know you. The similarities are there but he knows you're two different people. But he wants to know you and he hopes you feel the same way. For a moment he thinks that maybe the universe is finally giving him what he's always wanted, a second chance.  

"Sleep well Logan." You watch his breathing slow and his mind settle. Though you could stop using your powers now, you hold on for a while longer.

And for the first time in a long time, Logan sleeps.

[s0urw00lf]

I don’t wanna live forever

Part two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Y/n is having a hard time coming to terms with her feelings for the guy she’s supposed to feel nothing more than a friendship with, so instead of confronting those feelings she runs away, which proves to be a mistake for her and him.

Warning: angst, heartbreak, fluff, sad angry Dean because he’s a warning in itself

An: this is my first Dean Winchester fic so i hope it lives up to your expectations. Also this is gonna be a two part series because i got carried away with setting up the plot for this. If you like this flick and the way i write i am taking requests for Sam, dean and cas so feel free to make some. Anywho love ya and i hope you enjoy.

Dean Winchester is the epitome of a girls dream guy. He’s smart, tall, and strong. Not to mention those pretty green eyes that scream ‘walking sex god’ or that cheeky ass smirk he wears when he knows he’s got a girl in his clutch. But thats not what made you fall for him, not the only reason at least. Dean Winchester has been your best friend since you both could walk. Being left to take care of Sammy while your mom and john were out hunting all through your childhood up really sealed your fate, you saw all of his most vulnerable moments and you knew those moments he needed you to break down those walls so he wouldn’t self destruct. But also you saw how much he loved, and how he fought for the people he loved, but he wouldn’t let anyone give that back to him. And thats why you loved him. Because you knew that just like him you’d do anything for him at any moments notice. You’d kill, you’d torture , you’d die If he needed.

So as you sat at a bar sipping on your martini watching dean flirt with the pretty curly headed bartender with a short skirt, your heart felt heavy within your chest and your stomach completely empty despite the large bowl of fries you were sharing with Sam. The feelings that surged through your body weren’t anger, or hatred. It was sadness and longing, knowing that even though you loved everything about that man, even though you knew him better than anyone else. Better than himself. He’d wouldn’t see you how you saw him, and no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t hate him. Not one bit.

“Y’know if you sulk any harder people are gonna mistake you for a grounded teenager” an amused voice spoke from beside you. Your gaze broke from dean and turned to his brother, “shut up Sam” you said nudging his shoulder softly. A smile crossed the younger winchesters face, “he’s just looking for a distraction” he muttered to you, diverting his gaze over to his brother letting a frown overtake his features. Sam knew how utterly in love you and his brother were with each other, i mean anyone could see it. Except for some reason you two.

“Yeah well sleeping with a random person isn’t exactly what id call ‘a distraction’” you said bitterly, immediately feeling bad even though dean was nowhere around to hear. Sam shook his head at just how blind you were, “ i just don’t understand why he wont open up to us.” You said trying to keep your voice steady, stirring your drink around with your straw “He knows that we know how much loosing john is affecting him. Hell he’s not the only one fucking dealing. We all lost” she said trying not to let the tears forming in her eyes fall. Sam sighed “thats just how he is. It’s how he’s always been. The strong one” he said looking at his friend solemnly.

“Well it’s bullshit and he knows it” you said slamming your hands down on the table as you stood up. “Im going back to the motel” you muttered grabbing you coat from the back of your chair and trying to keep your tears at bay. Sam grabbed your wrist stopping you. “You want me to walk you?” He offered softly. “No it’s fine, i’m fine. I just need some time alone if thats okay” you said. Sam nodded letting go of your wrist, you gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead, a habit you’d formed when he was only two years old. And with that you exited the bar, not sparing a look in deans direction. You couldn’t stomach it. What you missed was the longing and worried look dean sent you as he weakly excused himself, and made his way over to Sam and began his interrogation.

While you walked your brain was racked with all of these intense emotions. But the most prominent thought was how much it was killing you. Given you’d known that Dean wasn’t the relationship type, i mean the ratio of his hookups to relationships says enough in itself. But you’d grown up together, you knew how much dean craved to be held and loved by a woman, and you were hoping by chance he’d let it be you. But as the months turned into years and years turned into a decade, you were tired. Tired of loving someone who only thought of you as a friend. Tired of loving someone who would shamelessly flirt with other women in front of you, no matter how deeply in love you showed him you were.

By time you reached the motel you’d had your mind made up, you’d apologize to the boys later but you had to go. And you knew that if you told them in person Sam’s puppy dog eyes that always worked and deans broken expression would’ve coaxed you back in. So there you are packing your bags (not that you had much to pack) and hopping into a car you’d managed to break into and Hotwire and began your way to Bobby’s.

When you arrived at Bobby’s he was shocked to see you but ultimately let you in. “Y’look like shit” he greeted looking you up in down taking in your puffy eyes. You laughed “good to see you too”. Bobby looked behind you, curiosity etched into his face “where are the other two idjits?” He asked. Your once happy expression dropped, replaced by a guilty look and you avoided his eyes as best you could. Bobby took a step forward, now concerned “peanut where are the boys” he asked a little more demanding this time. Tears pooled your eyes for what felt like the 100th time that day. “I- i left them in Wyoming” your voice broke as tears began to cascade down your face. “I didn’t tell them, they would’ve convinced me not to go” you explained. Bobby stared at the girl not sure what to do about the girl he saw as a daughter crying so freely in front of him. “Why’d ya leave? Somethin’ happen?” He asked leading you to the couch and taking a seat himself.

You shook your head “no… no nothing happened. I just couldn’t watch it anymore.” You muttered playing with your fingers in your lap trying to put your feelings into words. Bobby watched intently, and he swore he could almost see the cloud of thoughts above your head. It took about five seconds for it to click. Dean. “S’this ‘bout dean?” He leaned forward. You hesitated, finally looking up to meet them and eyes before you nodded. “It was okay before, i mean I’ve had feelings for him since we were 14 so i learned to tune it out mostly. But as we get older its just go hard, i mean I’m 26 now and I’ve seen him during relationships and hookups and its not effected me until now.” You explained, Bobby didn’t say anything, knowing that if he said the wrong thing you’d probably run up to your designated room and act like the conversation never happened.

“i think because i realized just how far id go for him, and with the way things are heating up that flame seems to grow more and more every hunt. But he doesn’t see it, he doesn’t see the raw and utter devotion i hold for him. He doesn’t see how i run off every guy because i know they wont be like him. He doesn’t see how much it hurts me to see him happy with someone else, even if it’s just for a night. And it hurts Bobby, it hurts like hell to love someone who only sees you as his best friend that much” you finished. By that point the tears were streaming down your face and he could hear the heartbreak in your voice. Bobby stood up trying to keep his own tears at bay as he watched the young girl break down in front of him, he grabbed you by your wrist pulling you into a bone crushing hug as you sobbed into his shirt. The two of you stood like that until your sobs subsided, leaving you with sniffles every few seconds.

Bobby pulled away and grabbed your face “you are a smart, strong, beautiful young lady. And after all you’ve been through you deserve all the love in the world, and if dean can’t see that then he’s more of an idjit than i thought” he joked. A small laugh passed your lips and suddenly the need for sleep hit you like a ton of bricks. Bobby seemed to take notice because he sent you on your way upstairs to your room and you made no effort to fight sleep any longer.

just downstairs Bobby pulled out his phone that saw tht he had 14 missed callers from Sam and 27 from dean. He calculated how angry you’d be at him for making the decision he was about to but he’d deal with your anger over heartbreak any day. So he pressed the call back button and listened to the dial tone until deans voice replaced the noise

“Is she with you” he asked urgently, Bobby noted the sound of deans engine in the background as well as Sam asking if it was Bobby that called.

“Yeah she’s here, and you’d better have a damn good excuse for her showing up the way she did” Bobby said in an authoritative tone.

“I’m not 100% sure but i have a theory” dean replied with a distracted tone. “I don’t care what you do or don’t have. You get here and you fix it you understand boy?” “Yes sir” dean answered. Bobby then hung up, dean knew he was in deep shit if he couldn’t make things right with you

[malusmagpie]

Dueling Fates.

Pairing: Anakin x Jedi!Fem Reader

Summary: Anakin really, really wants to win for once.

Warnings: 18+ definitely smut. Minors DNI or I’ll find you and bite you. Hatefucking (?), reader gets dominated, vulnerability, name calling, restraint, hair pulling, neck kisses, biting, honestly the works.

A/N: This is my first smut in years and i got a bit carried away with the lead up cuz im a sl*t for tension and foreplay and i had to cut it short but i’m pretty proud of this for my first time back. I’m sorry if i made any mistakes, i proofread but mistakes happen! Thanks for reading <3 Enjoy filthy Anakin.

Word count: 3.1K (I know it’s long I got excited.)

Anakin wasn’t a sore loser, not by his definition at least. He just knew he could do better. That’s why when he lost against you again in a sparring session something began to boil his blood. He stood up and stared at you for a moment, you knew what that look meant.

“Again.” He spoke sternly, not at all to your surprise. His lightsaber was still ignited and held in front of him with shaking, frustrated hands. His eyes were glazed over as if possessed by the idea of winning. This had been your third session together and prior to you two partnering up you had been training for 4 hours.

“I’ve been at this for hours I would much rather go eat than tend to your bruised ego, Skywalker.” You put your lightsaber in its rightful spot on your hip and looked up at him with your arms crossed.

It was true that Anakin rarely lost but almost every time he did, it was to you. If you had a scoreboard to keep track, it wouldn’t look good for him. You were older by two years and therefore had more experience. Not by much, but enough to make a difference. He was strong, big, and extremely quick with his reflexes but you were small, agile, and had levels of pattern recognition too high for him to catch you off guard. All his best traits came to your advantage and he hated it.

“Cut the bullshit. I know you’ve got one more in you.” He spoke, his eyes looked your tired frame up and down. You didn’t, in fact, have one more in you but you still agreed. Your legs were hurting in places you didn’t think they could and your arms were burning so badly they might as well have been dipped in lava.

“Fine.” You muttered as you neared him, taking your spot across from him at the training ring. You readied your lightsaber and the sound of it igniting filled your ears. His expressions were small, almost unnoticeable, but you could see how riled up he was in the small movements of his lip twitching and his eyes flickering from you to your lightsaber. You knew your mind wasn’t in it, your Master would have sent you to bed at the sight of you and you knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t encourage Anakin in the state he was in, as well.

A hint of something flashed across his face when you agreed and that settled the feeling you had, this would not be an easy one. The rivalry you two had was nothing more than friendly competition in the eyes of most but truth be told you were both too similar and stubborn, and it really did feel like you were truly enemies sometimes.

“Any day now, Y/L/N.” He spoke in that cocky tone that made you want to slash his head clean off his neck. You tightened your grip and swung first, the sound of your lightsabers clashing echoed through the large, now empty room. This was the best way to do it, offensive to start, swinging so he had the confidence that he could block your blows. Then when you began to feel even the slightest bit of exhaustion you’d play the defense, which was your specialty, until he spent himself. The rest? Too easy.

Your legs, while in pain, moved quickly. You dodged and rolled away from him multiple times. You enjoyed the feeling of him having to come to you, in the same way a dog owner experiences contentment when their dog obeys their commands.

You didn’t know what happened. You didn’t even know how it happened in the moment. He swung directly down your middle and you blocked him, pushing him back with a grunt. The noise he made in response was almost animalistic. It shocked you for just a fraction of a second but he swung and your block was delayed. He didn’t expect it and neither did you so when the swing connected to your leg you both froze. His reaction time, bless the Maker for it, was quick enough for him to stop before he melted your leg clean off but not quick enough to prevent it from grazing you.

You staggered back, retracting your lightsaber. Not a word left either of your mouths for a few seconds, though it felt more like a lifetime. The adrenaline was helping you feel less of the pain but it wasn’t fixing much.

“I didn’t think you’d connect.” You said through gritted teeth as your face contorted in pain. You dropped down on your ass to inspect the wound. “I didn’t think you’d fail to block.” He muttered as he rushed over to lean down next to you.

“I’ll get to a medic. Just leave me alone.” You nearly seethed at him. “I knew you weren’t the nicest sparring partner but I didn’t know you played dirty when you’re mad.” You pushed yourself off the ground, your injured leg bent at the knee as you hopped toward the exit of the training room.

Anakin narrowed his eyes as he walked next to you, not bothering to help due to your comment. “I don’t play dirty. Watch that loud mouth. It’ll be the reason you eat through a straw one day.” His hands were folded behind his back as he watched you struggle to get up the steps to get back into the temple.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes and held on to the railing for dear life as you hopped up each step. You felt an arm slide across your back and under your armpit.

“I’ll show you dirty if you keep this up.” He muttered, it was barely audible but you heard it and decided the pain in your leg was far more important than his incessant rambling.

“Don’t touch me.” You seethed but you made no attempt to move away from him. He looked down at you and you got the reply of sweet silence. For once, he chose not to respond.

“The medical bay is in the opposite direction-“ You started. “No. It’s just a surface scratch. I can clean it out for you and avoid us both getting in trouble for training after hours when we should have been eating.” He said sternly and a laugh escaped your mouth followed by a short wince.

“You mean avoid yourself getting in trouble. I wouldn’t get in shit over this. You challenged me and hurt me.” You responded. He shook his head and continued walking over to the dormitories. You recognized the hallway he was walking down to be the boys sector. You decided to bite your tongue for the time being. The wound, while not dangerous, was painful and you wanted to save your energy for something more worth while.

He opened the door to his room and placed you down on the small chair by his desk before turning to close the door. He walked away from you to find medical supplies while you inspected the wound and poked the skin around it, wincing in pain.

“Do you enjoy hurting yourself or something?” He muttered as he returned to see you poking away at your sensitive skin. You dropped your hand and looked up at him, your eyes followed him as he kneeled in front of you. You’d rather die than admit it but he did look good on his knees. Again, you stuck with the cold shoulder response, it was easier when you didn’t argue with him. You averted your gaze fairly quickly when he looked up at you for a moment. You didn’t even feel his hands on your hips until he spoke.

“Up.” His hands rested on the waistband of your pants and you cocked an eyebrow. “No funny business.” You muttered as you raised your hips to allow him to get the pants off and have better access to your thigh.

“Only in your dreams.” He spoke with a level of confidence that made you want to scream and rip his hair out of his head, but still, you stayed fairly silent.

He cleaned and dressed your wound, his touch was softer than you’d expected apart from the moments you would flinch and he’d use a bit of strength to hold your leg in place. “You’re gonna need new pants.” He said, his face was close enough to your skin that you felt the air leave his mouth as he spoke and it immediately created goosebumps on your legs. It was clear he noticed it because he did it again. “What? Is it cold in here?” His low voice sent vibrations to your leg and they flared up in little bumps again. His eyes trailed up your leg and the rest of your body until they finally rested on your own eyes. There was a look in his eyes that you had never been able to pin point and he had it often when he’d speak to you.

“Give me my stuff. I think we’re done now.” You said with a look of annoyance blanketing your expression. He followed promptly with a ‘tsk’ and his low voice, almost a growl, spoke again. “I don’t think we are.” His grip on your thigh squeezed gently and you tried snapping your legs shut only to be met by the barrier of his stupid head.

“What’s your deal, Skywalker?” You ask, your eyes boring holes into his own. You never made a single effort to move away, something about him was entrancing. His thumbs traced circles on your inner thigh by your hips and your legs twitched. You could feel your heart in your throat as he stared you down with the same intensity at you. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips when he felt you get nervous.

“What’s yours?” He mused as his hands travelled up to your waist and he pulled you down from the chair to sit on his lap where he was kneeling on the floor. A soft gasp escaped your lips and you felt a hand push on the back of your neck. Your foreheads were touching now and it felt like all the oxygen in the room had some how disappeared. Your hands instinctively rested on his chest as you straddled him.

Your mind was moving too quickly for you to say anything and before you knew it you felt his lips press against yours. His hand moved from its place on your neck to bunch up your hair and he held it in a tight grip causing a gasp to leave your mouth again.

‘I’ll show you dirty.’ His words from earlier rang in your head and you felt yourself shiver. He pulled away from you and laid you down on the cold, hard floor.

“Anakin-“ You started and he climbed over top of you, caging you in with his arms. “Years. I’ve spent years resenting you for the way you make me feel. Years watching you strut about and walk around with the confidence of thinking you’re better than I am. I hate how you speak to me and I hate the way you act.” He spoke, his eyes never left yours and your eyebrows furrowed.

“If you hate me so much why are you on top of me?” You found enough air to finally say something, your words came out shaky and breathless. “There’s one thing I can do to make myself feel better than you.” Anakin’s head dipped toward your neck as he spoke, he licked a stripe up from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear before biting on your earlobe.

Your body quivered again and he smiled against your ear when a yelp left your mouth at the feeling of teeth biting down. “I can make you look pathetic and desperate. Just like you look right now.” He whispered again, your cheeks reddened and a small whimper left your mouth as he bit down on your neck, leaving small kisses between each bite. You couldn’t speak, you could barely breathe but you liked it. Your hands reached around to tangle into his hair and you pulled him up to make eye contact with you before pushing your lips against his in a desperate manner, open mouths collided as his tongue slipped into yours. After all the years spent being at each others throat when this is what you’d always wanted, you didn’t hesitate to push it to where you needed it to go.

Your hands fumbled with his utility belt and he smiled before lifting a single arm from beside your head to undo it in a moments notice. He sat back on his heels and pulled your belt off, your robe and tunic promptly followed. Your bare skin shivered as you laid back on the tile floor in his room and he smiled down at you. “Too pretty for your own good.” He mumbled as he pulled your underwear from your body leaving you completely vulnerable while he was still clothed. Your hands went for his robe and he pinned them down above your head, his hair flopped over his forehead in a way that made him look absolutely delectable.

He shook his head and another ‘tsk’ followed before he ducked down and placed his mouth right on your nipple that had hardened from the cold floor and excitement. A moan escaped your mouth and you bit down on your lip to stifle it. His eyes flickered open and he looked directly into your own, eye contact was definitely something he enjoyed. His free hand grasped at your chin and his thumb pulled your lip from between your teeth. “Try and hide how good you feel again and you’ll regret it.” His voice was stern and it made your head spin. You nodded.

“Use your words.” He said again and your back arched a little as his mouth returned to your nipple. “Y-yes, Anakin.” Your breathless words came out almost unintelligible. “Louder.” He said and grazed his teeth over your hardened bud. “Yes, Anakin.” You said louder as the shock of the feeling engulfed you. He smiled against you and returned to his position of hovering above you.

His hand trailed down your body agonizingly slowly, stopping right where your pussy was. His fingers traced the outside and you squirmed beneath him. “Please..” You whispered and his eyes darted back to yours. “Please what?” He spoke with his fingers still tormenting you, dancing around where you needed them the most. “Please, Anakin.” You whimpered and he smiled. “So fucking pretty when you say my name.” His mused, his voice almost came out as a low hum as his fingers finally slid up and down between your folds, picking up the juices that had collected. He pushed his lubricated fingers against your swollen clit and started to rub small, slow, circles against it. Your entire body jerked and he let go of your hands to press your hips down, your tailbone pushed against the tile and you winced causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You felt his fingers stop and instead felt a hand push your cheeks together causing your eyes to snap open, the smell of your pussy wafted toward your nose and a moan escaped your lips.

“Look at me. Don’t close your fucking eyes.” Anakin said, pushing your face to the side and letting go. His hand reached back down between your legs and he slipped two fingers into you. A yelp escaped you as he began to slide in and out, curling his fingers upward. Your eyes didn’t dare leave his as he continued to graze against the top wall. Your legs squeezed and his body kept them from closing. “Open those legs.” He seethed and removed his other hand from holding you down to push your leg back down before returning to its spot on your hips. You pulled your legs apart and he continued to stare into your eyes. He ducked down and his tongue pushed against your clit as he fingered you.

“Y-yes.. Please..” You moaned as he began to flick his tongue against the nerve endings. He still hadn’t broken eye contact and you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach, your legs began to shake as well. His mouth moved away from you but his hand continued to defile your hole. “You cum when I say so, you desperate, needy girl.” He spat and slowly returned to licking away at your clit. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched loudly in your throat. Your cheeks and ears burned at the words that fell through his lips.

“Yes, Anakin.” You said through your moans. You began clenching your pussy to hold back but that made the feelings even more amplified. Your breathing began to get heavier and heavier as you tried to take your mind somewhere else to keep yourself from going against his words but it was nearly impossible when you were forced to stare directly at him. He went on for what felt like an eternity before whispering against you. “Now.” He said and the vibrations of his voice made your entire body convulse as you let yourself go. You whimpered and squirmed while he held you in place. The knot in your stomach unraveled and warmth spread through your whole body, you couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as you whimpered his name like it was the only word you knew. He pulled his fingers out and used your robe to wipe them off, his mouth followed shortly. He threw your clothes back at you and stood up.

“You can go now.” He said with a hint of a triumphant smile gracing his features. You sat up and immediately began to put the clothes back on, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable for your liking. When you stood up he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you toward him as he stared down at you with a firm grip on your bicep.

“Watch that wound and come back tomorrow.” He said with a voice that would have made any innocent bystander believe that nothing had happened in the last ten minutes. He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on your head and his free hand moved your hair from your face.

You simply nodded and mumbled a quick, “Yes, Anakin.” before ducking out of his room and speed walking back to your own quarters, praying nobody saw you and suspected anything. You knew exactly how proud and cocky he looked as you left, you didn’t even need to look back at him. You felt like the dog obeying commands now and you really liked it, too.

PART TWO HERE YA NASTIES

@likeavillian24

[liteyagummy]

Quietly Obsessed part 1

TW: NSFW yandere behavior, cnc, r4pe, abductor and captor, (the characters are aged up let’s just act like they stayed in dorms so everyone is around 19-20) NSFW

Running in the wind as you’re hunted down crying filling the once silent streets, you bang on doors your feet slapping against the pavement seeing as you were barefoot you scream out for anyone, the screaming cut short as your mouth was covered by a manly hand these hands were strong with the callouses and roughness that come from rigorous training. as you go to scratch at his hands and turn around there he is.. your captor.. Eijiro Kirishima, your eyes start to swell again with tears as you kick and scream

silence.. on the drive back home, kirishima had taken you as his property a while ago, snatching you up on a walk alone at night.. you thought your quirk would be able to keep you protected or at least give you some edge to your ability to pay attention to your surroundings but no.. nothing that night helped nor would it have, it was a way you’ve never seen kiri before

——FLASHBACK———

kirishima stepped closer to you as you made the wrong turn down a street, knowing someone was following you, you thought it’d be smart not to go home.. truthfully it would’ve been smarter to call the cops as you walked but that didn’t cross your mind in the moment

coming up upon a dead end on the side walk the last thing you would’ve thought to see is a dead end, foot steps coming up behind you then stopping you felt the feeling of eyes.. a glare burning through your skin

you turn around to see kiri.. lovable, sweet kiri.. tall muscular kiri.. sinister look sharp teeth kiri.. wearing a dark hoodie and clothes with a flimsy mask kiri.. what was he doing??

“y/n.. you shouldn’t be out this late.. what if i didn’t have the time to watch you tonight.. ensure your safety..?” he took a step forward as you took a step back

his face started to change to a softer look “ah who am i kidding “ he paused “never will there be a day i don’t have time to watch my princess..” the words the tone something wasn’t right and you couldn’t figure it out.. nor did kirishima give you time to. with haste he ran full speed at you, seconds past before your feet could finally move around you ran in this neighborhood

“KIRISHIMA WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!” you scream your question falling upon deaf ears

he finally cut you off in your tracks when coming from running behind a house or two.

he pinned you on the tall picket fenced gate

“i’ve been watching you every since you transferred into the hero course y/n please don’t make this hard.. why can’t you see that im in love with you.. i want you to be with me- be mine!” he pulled his mask down

“im the manliest you could ever be with ill give you everything you can want and more! i know we’re still in training but i mean this with my heart don’t.. don’t make my actions from this point forward be negative..”

by this point tears rushed down your cheek you hadn’t seen kiri this side of kiri. he loves you?? he watches you?? sure this is- well fuck it’s a joke right??

but by the looks of it he was dead serious

“eijiro please stop this.. i-i im- im not even interested in dating besides! we don’t have anything in common we don’t l-“

“ah bullshit!” kirishima answered “sorry. im sorry but from what i’ve heard.. seen.. you’re perfect for me there’s nothing left for you to do but accept me y/n” he pushed his body closer to yours as his grip on your wrist tightened his voice was so convincing and soft.. it was hard to think you were in danger with the way he spoke to you

after going quiet you turn away obviously standing on your answer he starts to grow angry but not at you no he could never be mad at his sweet little cutie no it was clearly the fault of the men before you- i mean breaking your heart and leaving you? of course you wouldn’t trust true love all the pieces were connecting now, at least in kirishimas mind, he smiled finally and grabbed you hoisting you over his shoulders like a large pack of waters and walking as you fought back he ignored these hits making sure you both didn’t make any bigger of a scene

“i’ll show you my word is true babe. even if i have to show you by force.”

——-END OF FLASHBACK——

that night replayed in your head on loops for the following days kirishima had you trapped in his dorm.. almight had insisted on sound proofing each dorms so something like- a loud tv wouldn’t ring through the halls or a microwave wont stop everyone from sleeping because one person wanted a late night snack

nobody heard your screams nobody heard your cries. for months to make matters worse kiri had make up a story for the hero’s and your friends and family telling them you went to study under a hero for some time and had to go no contact because this hero wanted no outside devices in their home and or workspace.. this was a rocky lie but it came from kirishima why would he lie?

he had often told you how he would let you go to classes again once he could trust you to come back to your man after classes were done and if he could trust you to keep what was going on a secret.. no matter how many times you tried to tell him you wouldn’t tell he knew you like the back of his hand, even the slightest eye moment he knew you were lying

it took months of begging, trying to do good with his trust and letting him do what he needed in the bedroom for you both to finally get to the point you were at today.. he was taking you on a cute little date.. a drive in movie date but as he left to get snacks you took it upon yourself to bolt. find any escape you could, no one opened their doors, no one came out to help nobody called ANYONE you were alone on that street except you weren’t.. because there was one man who wouldn’t let you DIE alone. let alone run the streets

—-back to the present time—-

you sat in the car with this silence. tension so thick a knife from Gordon Ramsay’s kitchen couldn’t cut kirishima drove with one hand on the wheel and the other gripping your thigh.. not sweetly- tightly it let you know when you both got back to dorms you wouldn’t hear the end of it

pulling you in the dorms and slamming the front door shut locking it with the extra deadbolts he installed just for you to be locked inside, you nearly fell as you caught yourself on a wall looking up to him he’s already stripping his clothes off, that look of lust and love coming back it always made you sick not knowing which side of kirishima was genuine

“strip. and i swear to god sweetheart if you try to pull any shit im getting the cuffs and chains so strip.” he said in a cold tone clearly angry

you shook where you stood taking off your outfit one by one, the sound of a belt being undone and pulled out its loops caught your ears as you were naked kiri grabbed you and tossed you on the bed you turn your head away as he pulls it back to face him

“you ran away. let’s fucking start there you ran away!” he shouted

you closed your eyes tightly at his yelling

“no you don’t get to curl up and be all scared you- i do something nice for us.” he leans in kissing on your neck and rubbing the warm leather against your skin

“i take us on our first date after months of begging to get out the house.. “ his hand carrying the belt stopped as he bit down on your shoulder leaving a mark of his teeth not hard enough to draw blood but the markings definitely not fading anytime soon, lately kiri had been on this high of doing it raw, one of his friends told him it felt better it WAS better in a ‘boys will be boys’ conversation amongst themselves and the group and kiri took it and ran with it. thanks denki. kirishima picked up his dick that he’d been letting get harder at your soft sounds with just his teeth being on you,

he debated on fucking you dry or letting you get a little wet but anger just starting to flood back over him as he remembered how you ran way.. you ran away from his safe cozy arms into the darkness of the streets, the darkness of the world! that stung. he lined his cock up with your pussy hole looking down at you “ you need to be punished.. so that this. never. EVER. happens again” he slammed his cock into his hips slapping against your skin already as he let out a groan “ah fuck baby..” he said in his low rumble of a voice he always got this way during sex as much as you hated your body for it.. it always made your pussy clench a bit hearing him speak to you this way

kirishima started to move his hips as he got in position pushing your legs wide open as his thrust picks up speed, within seconds he’s hitting your sweet spot repeatedly with the speed of a jackhammer you scratched on his back and cried out as you wrapped your legs around his wait your toes curled, you tried to squirm so his dick didn’t hit your spot anymore but then there was a quick painful strong slap to your pussy you gasped , “ you’re gonna take me. and love it. no squirming off my dick who told you running was gonna get you anywhere??“ he said darkly into your ear this making his thrusts get more aggressive your tits now bouncing in circles, you arched your chest up pressing it against his, trying to handle his massive size inside of you just stretching your velvet walls your screams getting louder after a while he’d flipped you onto your stomach and started fucking you in doggy style slapping the belt against your ass after every three thrusts

“you’re not leaving me!! get that thought out of your mind y/n you belong to nobody but me!! you’re gonna take-“ he groaned out louder as your pussy squeezed and gripped on his dick he rolled his eyes back slamming and forth in every angle you couldn’t catch a break “youre so pretty when you take me babe.. it’s too bad i have to punish you. i was looking forward to a sweet fuck after the date..” he kissed up your back and used his hand to grip and rub on your boobs pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers your body shook in overstimulation his other hand now unpinning you and reaching over grabbing something in his dresser you didn’t really see it nor knew what he was doing till a click was heard and a harsh vibration was at your clit, you jolted up but kiri followed your clit wherever you moved it the toy was right there ontop only growing in strength you only cried for kiri begging him to slowdown “oh i wish i could you know.. this hurts me much worse than it hurts you” he tried holding back his smile as he obliterated inside of you your legs started to shake as you neared your orgasm he denied you from doing it so ever so often he would pull the vibrator up and slow his thrusts to edge you this going on for over an hour.. when he finally let you cum your body was so tired it flowed out as you tensed and released repeatedly kiri could tell you were cumming on his cock and with that, the prime moment to fuck his sweet babe into submission right after you’ve gotten ‘so sensitive down there’ he pushed your head onto the pillow pulling your ass up and banging the hell out of you continuously like a rabbit he just couldn’t get off you, this continued for about a day nd. a half taking his own breaks for water but never resting since he had classes coming up otherwise he would’ve spent more time filling your belly with every single drop from his cock he’d filled you 99% of the time from that punishment and one facial but you were hiding your faces so you deserved it.

by the time you were done he was holding you.. if there’s one thing kirishima could do was after care

he held you in his arms kissing any skin his lips could reach “you did so good baby~” he sad in a tone proving he was rather pleased with himself aswell he let you lay there for a while as tou feel the warmth from kiri drain.. why was he getting up? you notice its kiri running a bath for you..

he wasn’t a cold captor what he said was true.. he gives you everything you could want and need.. you just don’t trust him after all this.

despite your little run away a few weeks ago kirishima was no monster so he woke you up this morning with plans in mind

“y/n get up! you’re going to classes” he smiled as he had either arms on the side of you and held himself above you, you rubbed your eyes and looked to him. were you dreaming..? he was finally letting you out to classes!!

he got off you and you raced to the bathroom to get ready before he could tell you if it was a joke or not, your own movement being a little too fast for you so you grip onto the bathroom counter and walk towards the toilet “it’s just a feeling right surely “a thought in your head said as you held your stomach and your grip tightened on the counter down you flew to the toilet throwing up liquids since you hadn’t even had breakfast yet just the bedside flavored water kiri always left for you to pour yourself

he rushed in “baby?” he held your hair back and rubbed your back his cold hands comforting you a bit as your body temperature rose and your stomach squeezed

you wiped your mouth with tissue tossing that in the toilet to flush too, chills sent down your body. you hated throwing up “y/n are you okay??” kiri asked

“ im fine- i just.. i don’t know maybe it was something i ate- yesterday? im not sure but i’d rather never do it again..” you’d rather have the sorest throat in the world, the stuffiest nose on the planet, itchiest eyes in the human race than to ever have to throw up once more

you rinse your mouth out with water spitting into the toilet giving another flush then brushed- scrubbed your teeth clean then around you turned to flick on the nozzle of the shower

you got in after stripping your clothes down and putting them in the hamper a lukewarm mist bringing you some clarity after being so winded, kirishima sighing regretting his choice to let you go to classes today of all days.. he worried, but not too much obviously because the sight of your naked body giving him clarity of his own, he watched every inch of your body never dropping focus only growing need. he dropped his clothes and got in right behind you you felt him getting in and his arms wrapping around you leaning more into the coldness to calm you down your body felt like it was on fire as the cold water rushed down your skin to your finger tips and kiris warm neck kisses bringing you back from bliss just enough you never wanted to leave this. -..shower that is you never wanted to leave the shower- pretty tiles nice soft lights..

ramble.

part two?

[activesplooger]

ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ | ᴠᴏx x ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Notes: (MDNI) don't be afraid to give me feedback on this one! (grammar, criticism, wtvr u notice!). idk wtf im doing but it took a long time and like 200 redo's. enjoy!!!

Summary: Years later. The aftermath of the 'incident'. CW: angst, mistreatment of workers, abuse of power, vox being an ass, fluff if u squint, confrontation, lot of exposition sorry lol, Word Count: 2,217 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterpost!

Years later... The Vee's empire grew exponentially and are now the three top overlords in hell. As they grew, they upgraded and relocated to a new gaudy building called the "Vee Tower" which's big enough for all 3 members to reside and do their business. Vox now had a similar, but still new, upgrade to his head. His flat-screen face glows blue and has red almond-shaped eyes. The left eyelid of his is black, like his eyebrows, while his right eyelid is a bright teal, like his teeth. He wears a navy blue and teal striped blazer with matching navy slacks. A grand ruby bowtie tied around his neck, just above the red and black dress shirt he now wore. And to top it all off, he wore a top hat and a charismatic smile.

You still worked for Vox, however, your job description changed over the next few years. You went from being introduced as “This is Y/N, my friend and assistant!” to “This is an employee of mine, she won’t be a bother.”. It was agitating that he started to distance himself from you. I mean, you save his fucking life and let him weep in your arms like a child and this is the thanks you get?!

Vox had also acquired a reputation being a friendly, charismatic, entrepreneur. What a load of bullshit. His media persona was all a facade, a scam to get people to buy his products and/or work for him. You feel bad for the newer employees who deal with Vox's wrath. At least for you, you could cling to the old version of him and have some sort of positive outlook on your boss. The new staff members didn't have any outlook on their boss besides terror and apprehension. They would simply get charmed into a job and then see how Vox's personality does a fucking 180, turning into a complete jackass as soon as their soul was his. Your boss is cold to all his employees, abusing his power over them just for a power trip, a reminder of where they stand in this company. If an employee made one mistake, they'd immediately called to Vox's office for the shakedown of their life. Fucking terrifying.

The whole company shifted into a mess of moral corruption. All of VoxTech’s advertisements were schemes to hypnotize you into craving their products. Manipulation is a key tactic at VoxTech. If people watch any of the programs controlled by the company, they’ll likely hear the phrase ‘Trust us’ more often than not. And in turn, If they hear it enough, they’ll start to believe it. That’s what lured people in, making VoxTech and trust synonymous with each other until ultimately, they buy their shit. Pretty subtle tactic compared to the others. Other ways included Vox straight-up hypnotizing people with his powers. Yet another astounding example of the great morals exemplified by your boss!

Some part of you wished you never helped him that day... you hated yourself for thinking that. In spite of how shitty he is, you missed him. Not the fake media version, or the shitty boss version, the old him. The real Vox. You'd find yourself reminiscing on the late work nights you had with him. He'd order takeout, and you'd help him with his work for hours on end until you'd fall asleep at your desk from fatigue. You never failed to wake up with a crick in your neck from the cramped position, but you always had a familiar coat swaddled around your shoulders. It was the little moments with him that meant a lot. Back when he wasn't so hostile. It was starting to get on your nerves. Seeing your boss- no- seeing your old friend become a jaded prick all because of some excessively red deer fucker?! You knew Alastor hurt him, and yeah, it's understandable to be a little messed up after it... But didn't he really have to take it out on everyone else?! 'Why couldn't he just be honest and talk about what happened?! Why the fuck did he forbid you from speaking about it?!'. These questions rang in your head for years. But you could never ask him... Could you? You definitely weren’t a pushover, but you also weren’t a dumbass. As much as you wish it weren’t true, Vox had the upper hand and a mean temper. However, at this point, you were at the end of your rope. You needed answers, just... maybe not now. Soon. Maybe? Fuck! No matter how much you refused to admit it, he terrified you. You knew he could end you in an instant, he made that very clear when he nearly choked you to death. By now the bruises faded, obviously, but the emotional scars were very much there... You don't forget nor forgive what Vox did to you. So much was left unsaid that day and remains unsaid, you still can't really process it all. You tried to make excuses for what happened, something to console you and give you some sort of reason for everything. The blame always fell on Alastor, which, you felt was true to at least some degree. Your theories aren't enough to soothe your troubled thoughts. It still nagged at you, it always did. If there was some way for you to obliviate this, you would done it have a long time ago.

And the cherry on top of it all is the fact that you have to see him every day and pretend like nothing ever happened. Your workplace serves as a constant reminder of what happened, you couldn't possibly get yourself to stop thinking about it. Every fiber of your being just wanted you to call him out and pry into every detail of what happened with Alastor- But you held back... Part of you felt he would hurt you... again... As much as you want answers, being hurt and possibly killed over it definitely isn't worth it.

--

Your heels clicked on the black flooring as you walked to Vox's office. Vox had previously emailed you to bring him some paperwork for some new employees who were recently hired. You carried the heavy stack of documents in your hands, your arms begging for relief. Couldn’t these have been digital like everything else? You could’ve sworn he did this just to make things harder for you. Prick. The path to his desk was long and narrow, with sharks swimming around beside it. A large circular platform that held Vox’s desk and various monitors accompanied by heaps of cords and cables ended the path. From a distance, you can see your boss berating another employee. The worker cowered on the ground beside the desk as Vox loomed over him, a scowl etched across his face. You increase your pace to his desk in an attempt to shorten the eyesore in front of you. "Let me get this straight," The TV demon inches closer "You want to waste M҉Y̴ time M҉Ɏ money, MɎ-". "I-I just want some time off, Mr. Vox," the trembling staff member interrupts "I-It's my wife and I's anniversary I-I just need a couple hours-". A teal blue collar takes shape around the worker's neck, you couldn't believe the sight before you. Rage and pent-up strain filled your core, it killed you to see him doing this to someone else. Right in front of you no less. Your breathing becomes shallow, the memory of Vox choking you haunting your brain as you see another employee going through what you did. Should you stop it? Would that only make things worse? Fuck- 'Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout'. That phrase repeats in your head like a mantra, you need to get the fuck out of there. You couldn't stand being there any longer.

Large teal claws grasp at the end of the leash attached to the collar, pulling the chain closer as Vox speaks. "ɎØ҉U҉ ŁƗSŦɆN ĦɆɌɆ ɎØ҉U҉ F҉U҉ȻꝀƗNǤ-". The slam of papers cuts off Vox, he whips his head to the sound only to find you walking out of the office in a huff. Tears welled up in your eyes. 'Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout'. Pushing the doors open you run out, tears falling down your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath. You turn the corner and slump against the nearest wall, burying your head in your knees and unsteady sobbing.

After you left, Vox just stares at the door you stormed through. The chain vanishes from his grip, and his hands fall to his side as longing and regret cross his features. Your boss's mind was so preoccupied with you leaving that he didn't notice the employee scurrying out the door. Once he realized that he let the worker off the hook, he didn't call him back. No. He let him go. Vox had bigger things to deal with. You.

Whilst you lay there, slumped against the wall, you feel something drape over your shoulders. But, when you lift your head, you don't see anyone, only a blue zap darting up to a security camera. You furrow your eyebrows and turn your head to see what was draped over your back. Your eyes are met with a navy blue and teal striped blazer comfortably enveloping your shoulders. "...Vox?" --

For a few hours, you clutched onto the jacket as you sobbed, but, eventually, you had to suck it up and work. And return the jacket. Fuck. That's gonna be awkward... 'I can't just keep it, can I?' you thought as you grabbed the jacket and made your way to his office, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable conversation ahead.

You quietly make your way over to Vox's desk, his eyes fixed on the monitors in front of him, not noticing you. "Sir?". "Gah!" Vox springs up out of his chair and nearly falls out of it, "Y/N! What the fuck?!". "Sorry sorry!" you apologize, "I didn't mean to startle you, Sir.". An awkward grin spreads across your face as you hold out the jacket to him "I came to return-" the jacket gets snatched out of your hands "-this". Vox slides the jacket over his black and red dress shirt, "Finally!" he exclaims. You stand there awkwardly after he ripped the blazer out of your hands while Vox just got back to work on his computer. "Can I help you?" Vox questioned with a condescending look on his face. "Hm? Oh! No no, I just wanted to thank you, so- Thank you." A soft smile crossed your features, hoping that this would spark a sincere discussion. Rolling his eyes, he responded with an annoyed tone, "Well, don't. Just accept the gesture and move on, we don't. need. to talk about it."

A scoff escapes your lips, "Typical." you mutter.

“What was that?” Vox eyes bored into yours as he got up to fully face you, his tall stature towering over you.

Normally, you’d back down from a situation like this. You knew that Vox could overpower you in an instant. But something in you just snapped, you couldn't take it any longer. Any fears or doubts you had suddenly disappeared. You just can't take it any longer.

“You heard me” you retort, standing up as straight as possible to try and match his height. Red vexed eyes narrowed at you, staring deeply into your eyes, "If you had any brain in that head of yours you'd back off, Y/N." he barked. The skin over your knuckles pulls taught as you balled your hands into fists, "If you had any brain in that flat head of yours you'd understand why I'm fed up with your shit!" you lashed out, "I swear if I wasn't soul-bound I'd leave your TV ass in an instant!" Vox's crimson eyes widened, he seemed genuinely surprised at your exposure of him, "Excuse me? I've given you ɆVɆɌɎŦĦƗNǤ! You'd be blundering around Hell if I hadn't hired you!" Your eyes practically roll out of your head. "You haven't given me anything besides a daily fucking migraine!" "I will not take this, I'm your superior, Y/N!" your boss blustered, "Or did you forget? Perhaps I should give you a reminder-". The all too familiar teal blue leash starts to materialize in his hands causing a knee-jerk reaction out of you. Your hands instinctively grab the half-embodied chain and yank it to the side.

SNAP!

The two of you stand there, watching in disbelief as the teal links slowly disappear. You're not sure how you managed to stop the soul-leash from fully forming, but you did. Finally prying your eyes off the now absent chain, you look up at Vox. He was still looking down like a deer in the headlights, looking vulnerable and powerless. The sight of him reminds you of the way he looked when he desperately clung to you after his falling out with Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this since then. For the first time in years, he wasn't in control of something. The overlord's voice faltered as he mumbled, "How did-". "I don't know," you responded abruptly. ... Red gleaming eyes lifted to meet yours, "You want to talk? Fine. You've convinced me," he slumps back into his chair, his elbow popping up his head as he looked at you with an exasperated look, "Talk."

--

to be continued! hope u liked this chapterr its the longest of the two. this one took me long as fuck sorry lol i havent had a lot of free time. lmk if u want to be apart of the tag list :) also leave me some feedback in the replies or the ask me anything tab iyw!

COMFORT FROM THE ANGST COMING SOON!

-- TAG LIST:

@lovelyemily, @preppyfellaa

[italiansteebie]

something you'd never expect about steve harrington is that he loves halloween.

i mean, he really gets into it.

he dresses up, decorates the house, hands out candy and even goes trick or treating with the kids as an excuse. "i'm keeping an eye on you guys!"

"you didn't have to dress up though,"

"yes i did, dustin. you don't know everything."

even after the upside down bullshit, he still loves it, and maybe he kept his scoops uniform with blood and barf stains so he could use it as a costume. and maybe that was kind of fucked, but he's coping with it.

now, steve's love for halloween is one of robins favorite things about him. especially since his house is equipped for an exceptional party, what with the size and the decorations steve is going to put up anyways? it's perfect.

so the halloween after scoops, they throw a masquerade of sorts. it's quite a rager, despite steve's expectations.

he decided to go as a masked cowboy.

he got the boots, the hat, and he wore a leather vest that ended up giving him a chill for the night since other than some chaps, it was all he was wearing on his body. he did the whole nine yards with a red bandana and some sunglasses.

"hey cowboy."

steve turned, taking in the sight in-front of him.

a guy, with long curly hair, somehow making a jason voorhees costume work.

he tipped his hat, always committed to the bit, "jason." he said simply, thanking the bandana gods for hiding his blush.

"never woulda thought king steve would throw a party like this."

"why not?"

"i dunno. it's cool though, guy seems to have changed."

"for the better?"

jason tilted his head, "yeah man. for the better." he said it as though the decision had been made, and locked in place.

so they sat.

and talked.

all night.

and the rest of the party seemed to fade away. that is until a drunk robin, dressed as micheal myers laid across his lap, "kick everyone out, im tired."

he checked his watch, it was 4 am, probably about time for them to go home. so he stood, gearing up to say his farewell to jason, maybe ask him for his number, but when he turned again, he was gone. only the smell of weed and cheap cologne remained. (and later, he'd find, a lone 36 sided die, that he'd end up asking dustin about).

it's silly to think that steve was falling in love with this guy after only just meeting him, but he'd grappled with his sexuality on a bathroom floor, appropriately, and was ready to dive back into the dating pool. or maybe the puddle, because halloween jason, seemed to be the one.

the only thing is, steve has no idea who the guy is.

that is at least until, none other than eddie munson had a broke bottle pressed against his neck. now he didn't figure it out in that moment, but when they were fleeing for their lives, eddie's hand found a way into steve's, and back at eddie's trailer, steve caught a glimpse of none other than the jason voorhees mask he'd been searching for ever since that party.

and maybe it was a sappy declaration of love, but steve was nothing if not a hopeless romantic.

"don't be heroes."

it was pleading.

steve tossed the dice eddie's way, watching fondly as he struggled to catch it.

"steve- wh?" he could see the moment it clicked in eddie's eyes. steve turned, ready to finish this mess, so he could talk to eddie, to jason, and figure out some shit.

"hey, steve?"

he turned, meeting eddie's eyes.

"make him pay, cowboy."

--

it was done.

they did it.

a few were in the hospital but, hey. they did it. eddie had been in a rough way for a little while, eventually pulling through but not before some physical therapy.

steve was there when he woke up.

had been ever since he'd explained to eddie's uncle wayne how they knew each other and what eddie meant to steve.

eddie cracked open his eyes.

"howdy, cowboy." it came out scratched, and rough.

"eddie," steve breathed, grasping his hand.

"i knew i liked those chaps."

steve rolled his eyes, smiling while tears rolled down his cheeks. "you saved my life." eddie said, reaching a hand to steve's cheek. steve shook his head, "how can i ever repay you?" eddie said, a glint in his eye.

steve laughed, "no thanks necessary," he said, tipping his imaginary hat, leaning into eddie's touch. "there must be someway," he said, southern drawl creeping into his voice. "how about a kiss?" steve asked, eyes flickering down to the metal heads lips.

wayne shook his head at the boys' antics. "will y'all just kiss already? im getting old waitin' for ya!"

eddie laughed at his uncle's testimony, before nodding, "c'mere, cowboy," he said, before closing the gap between him and steve.

"was it rootin' n tootin'?" eddie asked, a cheesy grin on his face as he pulled away. "sure was, partner."

"oh my god."

"hey robs,"

"steve, shut up. eddie's jason! jason from-" robin stumbled into the room. "from the party!" she all but squealed. steve laughed, nodding, "yeah, babe. we figured that one out ourselves."

[fanofthelamb]

I just went through your entire blog looking for more of your art!! Loved your work!!! I have a question though, in ur au does the lamb and narinder end up falling in love or is it one sided? Since the lamb married narinder to humiliate him, how does he react to the "humiliation " ??

HIIII IM USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO RAMBLE ABOUT MY NARILAMB PAIRING ENJOY THE ABSOLUTE NOVEL IM ABOUT TO DROP!!!!!!!

vvv Including a SHITLOAD of Pics <3 vvv

Actually, they’ve been in love for a long time! Narinder was the one who fell first, and was NOT shy about showing the lamb.

REST BELOW THE CUT!!!

Of course the lamb didn’t care at first. In fact, they were trying to have ANY of Narinders bullshit. They were here to kill their executors and everyone else could get fucked, honestly.

He DID eventually win the lamb over. They were still extremely shy about it, being able to see the obvious problems that came with having a relationship with their god, but YOLT, right?

Now, though, it’s still reciprocated. The lamb is still angry at Narinder for asking them to lay down their life, and is happily taking it out on him! Depending on the AU, whether it be my main blog and it’s interpretation of the lamb or my BTG AU, it really depends. FOTL I do really have plans for the lamb to at least soften up on Nari, BTG explores the lamb being unable to let go of what happens and letting it and the crown lead them down a path they can’t turn back from. Very fun either way!!

The marriage thing had the OPPOSITE effect of what the Lamb was hoping for. To give context; the lamb and Narinder are “married” before he leaves his chains (the lamb will DENY the hell out this though + comics about that still in progress) so when the lamb married him again, he completely misinterpreted the marriage as the lamb telling him They still loved him instead of it being a punishment, even with the lambs threats after the ceremony. It’s his strongest piece of evidence that the lamb is just pissed and needs a LOT of time to cool down. He is right, but no one believes him. Especially with how the lamb acts towards him.

The "humiliation" of the marriage failed terribly, and the lambs attempts to torment him fail just as badly. Any time the lamb tries showing affection though, that is when Narinder is truly terrified.

So... The "humiliation" they try to put him through never works but when they have a tiny moment of weakness that fucker's whole life flashes before his eyes skDASKHGFFJH

n e way... YEA!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TY FOR THE ASK <33333