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gothcsz · 1 month ago

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Blocked and Begging | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~3.1k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You block Javier and he shows up at your doorstep.

Tags: angst, smut, fwb dynamic, drunk!javi, fuckboy!javi, modern!au i guess, pussy eating, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie!, pussy pronouns, half-assed beta'd, untranslated spanish, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, no physical descriptions, sorry for any stray typos/grammatical mistakes, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: i blame this anon i got for this, tbh. so thank you for doing all the heavy lifting, 'nonnie. much appreciated. there's not much i can say except i hate javier peña so much the only way to fix it is to fuck him! also @almostempty 's fuckboy joel def inspired javi's characterization in this so thank you for blessing us with that weds mwah love u! okay guys as always let me know what you think and thanks for reading 🖤

The first call came in at 2:12 AM. An unknown number, but you knew.

You silenced it. Then again, 2:14. 2:17. 2:23. Again. Again. Again. Until the screen was so flooded with missed calls and increasingly misspelled messages, it looked like he was trying to break into your world through sheer persistence.

Baby Answer the phone I fucked up Please

Fuck him. He hasn’t been around or texted back in days, and now all of a sudden he’s blowing your phone up like you’re the one who disappeared.

You wouldn’t have minded the silence, really, it was to be expected from a man like Javier. However, one of your friends had seen him out last night—messy, drunk, as affectionate as he is with you with some girl—practically fucking her on the dance floor.

When the video came in, you stared and stared until the knot in your throat wrung angry, jealous tears from your eyes. You blocked his number right then and there, throwing your phone across the couch, telling yourself you didn’t care.

You shouldn’t care. You aren’t together. You both made that clear. It’s supposed to be casual.

But it doesn’t feel casual, not with your stomach in knots and your heart twisting up and damn it, it’s really your fault for fooling yourself into thinking this is more than what it is.

You finally answer the phone at 3:06 AM. Your voice is like ice. “What?”

He sounds drunk. Words slurred, voice raspy like he’s been smoking, or yelling… or both. “I fucked up. I know, I know—Just let me come over. Let me see you—”

“Why? So you can lie to my face instead of over the phone?”

“I didn’t fuck her, baby, believe me. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You hang up.

He can take that sweet-talking, liquor-soaked bullshit and feed it to someone else.

However, twenty minutes later, there’s insistent knocking at your front door. Like he knows you’re waiting.

You exhale hard, palms dragging over your face, and stomp to the door. When you look through the peephole, there he is—his drunk ass swaying slightly on your porch, one hand braced against the frame to keep him steady, the other casually on his hip.

It pisses you off, yet you still open the door. “Leave.”

He does the opposite, stepping inside as if you aren’t in the middle of a fucking argument, shutting the door behind him. Javier Peña never needs an invitation to make a mess.

“You have some fucking nerve—” You push at his chest, but he catches your wrists.

“I know,” The smell of whiskey emitting from him has your nose wrinkling.

“No, you don’t.” You yank your wrists from his hold, trying to be preemptive by putting some distance between you both.

Being close to him is dangerous as hell, especially when you’re angry and hurt and jealous. “You ghost me for days and now you show up like some stray looking for scraps? What—did she not let you spend the night? Got bored fucking her and remembered I’m always dumb enough to answer?”

All your overthinking spills from your lips, grinding your teeth at the thought of him being with someone else before showing up here.

His face twists. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Bullshit.”

“I didn’t sleep with her—”

“Oh, fuck you, Javier. Don’t insult me. I saw you with your hand up her dress!”

He tuts under his breath, shaking his head like you’re the irrational one here and you hate how that makes you feel. “That doesn’t mean I fucked her.”

“Whatever. I shouldn’t care who you stick your dick in. We’re not together, right? So go ahead. Have your fun. Just don’t show up at my place acting like you give a shit about me when you can’t even be bothered to fucking call.”

“I do give a shit.”

He steps forward and you move back, spine stiff, feet landing near the edge of the dining room, t-shirt barely brushing the tops of your thighs. You’re aware of how exposed you are and how his eyes flick downward, just for a second. Your whole body betrays you when he looks at you like this.

“I’m sure you do.” You sass and his jaw twitches.

“You want me on my fucking knees, crawling to you to show you that I’m being serious? Because I will.”

“Estás borracho, Javi. No seas ridículo.” Men are so nonsensical when it comes to trying to prove their innocence.

You just stare as he kneels, his shoulders going slack, hands on the floor. His gaze never leaves yours as he crawls the short distance across your living room rug to where you are.

You say his name, half-warning, half-beg, swallowing roughly, your ass grazing against the edge of the dining room table.

He reaches you, reverently sliding his hands up your calves until his thumbs brush the backs of your knees. His breath is warm against the tops of your thighs as he presses his face to your stomach, kissing you through the cotton of the shirt, inhaling your scent.

“I’ve missed you.” His fingers disappear beneath the tee, calloused palms grazing the skin of your stomach before they trail past your ribs, cupping your breasts, squeezing softly.

You both let out sighs of pleasure, his thumbs grazing your nipples until they peak for him.

“You’re just saying that so you can fuck me.” As if you’re not going to let him.

Javi squeezes your tits roughly, making your back arch. “I mean it. Was dealing with some shit and got reckless…” He continues to knead your breasts, making you feel disoriented. “Don’t wanna fuck someone else when I have you…” He sounds truthful, but you don’t know if that’s because he means it or because he’s touching you like this and saying all the right things. “I wasn’t thinkin’, perdóname baby.”

One hand leaves your chest to drag down, knuckles brushing your belly as he hooks a finger under the waistband of your sleep shorts, toying with them.

He looks up at you with those stupid, brown glossy eyes. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your hands grip the edge of the table and your whole body screams yes even as your mouth tries to say no.

You never learn.

“Okay.”

His breath is hot and shaky as he lifts the hem of your shirt, exposing your torso. You rid yourself of it, the cooler air nipping at your heated skin, his palm still on your tit while the other grips your hip.

You gasp when his mustache scrapes against your skin, coarse and ticklish, making you shiver so hard your knees almost buckle.

His tongue draws lazy circles around your belly button, slow and sensual, dragging heat lower with every wet swirl. You want to stay angry—you try—but it’s so hard.

Then his fingers slowly hook onto the waistband of your shorts again, tugging slightly like he’s asking permission without speaking. He glances up at you, and when you don’t stop him, he tugs them down your thighs and lets them pool around your ankles.

You step out of them, entirely naked now.

Javi’s strong hands slide under your thighs and lift you onto the table. The wood is cool beneath you but his hands are hot. He spreads your legs obscenely, exposing you fully. The air kisses your folds and you twitch, cunt glistening only slightly due to your anger-thinned arousal.

He knows exactly what to do about it, starting by letting his fingers stroke through the coarse hairs at your mound, his pointer and middle fingers matching the V of your cunt, massaging your sensitive flesh and making you mewl, hips hovering off the table.

He starts slow.

A kiss to your outer lips then a long, dragging lick right up the seam of your pussy, tongue splitting your folds, collecting every bit of heat you haven’t admitted you’re building.

“Look at her,” he groans, lips brushing your pulsing clit. “Fuck, baby. She’s so sweet.” His voice drops a bit. “You think I’d want anyone else when this is mine?”

His tongue darts out again, flattening along your labia, slow and wet. You hiss through your teeth, falling flat on your back, unable to keep straight.

He does it again and again, not quite giving you what you want, but he’s only doing this to savor the blissful taste of your syrupy arousal building on his taste buds.

“Still mad at me?” he murmurs into your cunt, getting even more drunk between your legs.

You open your mouth to snap at him, to remind him why you’re pissed—but then his pouty lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, gentle but insistent, and your head tilts back with a helpless moan you can’t swallow.

“Jesus—Javi—”

“Let me hear you. Let me make it better.”

Your fingers find his thick and soft hair, tugging hard. He groans against you, lips humming at your clit, tongue circling and flicking with a skill that makes your thighs shake.

Wetness floods you, you can feel yourself opening, melting, helpless under the pressure of his talented mouth.

“Pussy tastes so fucking good,” he growls, voice muffled against your now soaking cunt. “Eres perfecta. I’d never find better.”

His hands grip your thighs, groping the supple skin, holding you in place as he sucks and slurps at your pussy. Messy, wet sounds fill the space.

You grit your teeth, trying to hold onto your anger. To remember how jealous you’d felt when you saw that video. How humiliated you were. How tired you are of being strung along by a man who only seems to remember how much he wants you after he’s already hurt you. How he knows exactly how to play you.

But God… his mouth. His cock. They’re too fucking good and outweight all the shitty things he puts you through.

He eases two thick fingers inside your pussy and you cry out loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your walls clench around them instantly, pulsing with need as his fingers curl deep, finding that spot that makes your vision dot.

“Ohhh fuck, Javier—”

“Take ‘em so well, baby” he purrs, pumping into you slow and deep, his lips still making out with your clit between every sentence. “Let me have her. Let me love her. She deserves it. You deserve it.”

The squelch of his digits pumping into your soaked cunt is drowned out by the ringing in your ears and the hot wave of euphoria that seizes your whole body. Your skin tingles, toes curl, as your pussy clenches down hard, orgasming and fluttering around his fingers in messy, wet spasms.

Javi comes up from between your legs, mustache wet and lips glistening. He reaches your breasts and palms them with greedy hands, squeezing them together as his tongue laves at one peak, then the other.

The attention to your chest has a needy, cracked whimper slipping from you and it makes him smirk against your skin.

He then hovers above you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, despite him being fully clothed, the scent of sex and sweat and his cologne wrapped around you like a drug. He leans in for a kiss.

But you turn your head, letting his lips land on your cheek instead—a silent rejection that makes him growl low in his throat.

His hand—the same hand that was just buried knuckle-deep inside your pussy—grips your jaw tight, fingers slick as he forces you to look at him.

“Dame un beso,” he orders roughly.

You don’t get the chance to obey or protest.

He crashes his mouth against yours, lips hot and hungry, tongue sliding past your teeth in an instant. The taste is potent—his favorite whiskey and your own pussy, mixed and heavy on his tongue.

You whimper into him, your arms pinned between your bodies, lips held captive and bruised under the weight of his kiss.

Your hips swivel when you hear the clatter of his belt then feel the rasp of denim sliding down low enough to release himself.

He drags the head of his cock up your aching seam, circling your puffy clit with it. Javi taps it teasingly against your tender nub, smearing your own wetness, making you jolt.

Breaking the kiss, a thin trail of saliva bridges your lips to his. He keeps the grip on your jaw tight, blunt fingernails digging into the skin, making you wince slightly. His nose brushes yours, eyes locked, the rest of the world melting away.

And without a word, he pushes in.

Slow.

Thick.

Deep.

You can’t speak. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. You just feel it—every inch of him forcing your walls to stretch until his balls kiss your ass and you’re stuffed to the brim with him.

“Mierda,” he groans, eyes fluttering. “You always look so fuckin’ pretty with this dick inside you.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, eyes softening for just a moment. Then he leans in and kisses you again—this time tender, sweet, like he’s trying to say something he can’t put into words.

“Now,” he murmurs, voice honeyed and dangerous, “you’re gonna watch me tear this pussy up.”

You barely register his grip shifting—the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your neck, pulling you upright, making sure your eyes are trained down to where you’re joined. Where his dick is slowly dragging out of you, glossy and thick, before he slams back in with a sound that punches all the air from your lungs.

“So fucking good for me, even when you’re pissed off at me. But you don’t really hate me, do you baby?”

Your whole body jolts against the table, your answer coming in the form of a gasp.

He fucks you slow at first, making sure you feel every devastating inch, the drag of his cock pulling against your walls, your cunt already dripping down his shaft.

Your pussy sings.

He sets a brutal rhythm, fucking into you hard and deep, making the table creak beneath you. Each time he drives in, your slick gushes around him, creamy and filthy, soaking the hairs at the base of his cock.

“Look at her,” he growls, keeping your neck craned so you can’t look away. “Look at how wet you are. You see that? That’s how bad you want me.”

You whimper, fingers digging into his arms for balance.

“Creamin’ on my cock like this—fuck, baby. This is why I come back. You’re why I come back.”

He slams into you again, making the whole table jerk forward.

“This pussy’s perfect. So warm. So tight. You were made for me, huh?”

You nod—frantic, trembling—tears in your eyes from how full you feel, from how right it feels.

“You gonna let me fuck you stupid?” he rasps. “Gonna let me ruin you?”

“Javi—”

“Say it. Tell me she’s mine. That you’re mine.”

“She’s yours,” you whimper, biting your lip, trying to hold on. “I’m yours.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, slamming into you so deep it makes you see double.

After a few more strokes, he lays you flat on the table, his hands gripping your hips with bruising intensity. He drags you toward him until your ass is right at the edge, your body completely at his mercy.

There’s no teasing this time. Just the relentless pace of his cock plunging into your pussy, the wet slap of skin on skin while he fucks this second orgasm out of you.

You're already so sensitive, your walls quivering, stretched to the limit and still greedy for more. He hits that pleasurable spot inside you over and over again, and you can’t help the helpless cries that tear from your throat.

He leans into it. Grinds deeper. Fucks harder.

“One more, shit, Let me feel you. I know you fuckin’ want it.” He pants, watching your face twist up, your body arching.

The pressure builds fast and then you’re coming again, a white-hot burst that sets your skin aflame, jaw open in a silent moan as your cunt squeezes around him, sticky and pulsing.

He curses low and filthy in Spanish as he follows, slamming deep one last time and holding there, cock twitching inside you as his own orgasm overtakes him. His seed floods you in hot, lazy waves, filling you so full you can feel it leaking out around him even while he’s still inside.

Javi slumps forward with a ragged exhale, arms bracketing your body on either side. He doesn’t collapse, but he’s close.

His lips find yours again, slower this time, gentler��just the soft slide of his mouth against yours, the afterglow humming between you like static. Your fingers drift into his hair without thinking, stroking through the curly strands, feeling like you’re floating.

His brown eyes are soft when he opens them, catching the dim light of the room like warm honey. He looks beautiful like this—flushed, vulnerable, skin damp, chest still rising and falling against yours.

“Stay,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and raw from all the moaning and crying he’d coaxed out of you.

There’s a pause. He studies your face, his expression unreadable, answer delayed momentarily.

“No puedo,” he says at last, his bluntness almost cruel. “Gotta be up in a few hours.”

And just like that, the warmth in your chest snuffs out. Cold creeps in, sharp and fast, and you lay there stunned as the post-coital haze clears. Your jaw tightens. Your hand drops from his hair. He feels the shift in you instantly, watches the light drain from your eyes as he pulls away.

He tucks himself back in his jeans, does his belt with maddening casualness.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You snap, sitting up so fast it makes your head spin. You reach for your shirt and yank it on.

“You’re really gonna leave after this? After that?”

He shrugs, not looking the least bit apologetic. “Promised Pops I’d help him with the fence. You know how it is.”

You slide off the table with a grunt, snatching your shorts up from the floor and stepping into them. Your legs still tremble from the good fuck you just received, thighs squeezing together to keep his cum inside you. You try your best to ignore it. “All this just so you could get some pussy,” you spit. “Get the fuck out.”

He rolls his eyes, unfazed. “No seas así. Unblock me so I can call you tomorrow.”

He steps close again like it’s nothing, wraps a hand around your waist and tugs you in. You stiffen against him, glare up into his face, trying—desperately—to see through him. But you can’t. And that makes you want to scream.

“You really gonna call?” you ask, voice quiet but sharp, already hating how pathetic it sounds.

“Yes.”

You roll your tongue over your teeth, the taste of him still clinging to your mouth, your skin still tingling from his touch. You should know better. You do know better.

And yet—you believe him anyway.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @clubsoft . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @mandaloriankait . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz . @manuymesut . @angiewatson .

#javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #kat's writing.

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sparklystarrrr · 1 month ago

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Madhatter!reader x riddle?👀

just imagine riddle yelling at a heartslabyul student for breaking a rule and mad hatter! reader just walk in the room rambling and showing off all the hats they made OR just saying saying random things,and riddle just standing there looking lovesick at them,making the heartslabyul student just standing there confused like:🧍

In a nutshell:

Random heartslabyul student:what do you see in that guy?

Riddle: they makes me laugh

Mad hatter!reader: I ate a glow stick today ! My love! ( ᐛ )/

I think that will be funny to write about

THAT'S ADORABLEEEE I had a good giggle while writing this, tehehe~

Hats Galore

Synopsis: There is one cure and one cure only to Riddle's monstrous temper, that being his lovely partner of course!

Contains: Riddle R. x Gn! Mad Hatter! Reader, slightly possessive/protective Riddle

The evening was a bright and sunny one, and quite calm! Almost... too calm.

Coming from the Heartslabyul living quarters, a quarrel had erupted. two boys inside the dorm had decided that they'd had enough of each other. There were objects flying everywhere, shattered glass askew on the checkered floor, furniture shoved out of position and two slightly bloody and bruised boys in the middle of a concerned circle.

The sound of heavy clicking heels shut down the screaming in the room. The circle of boys created a horse shoe shape, letting their furious and bright red faced Housewarden into the circle to assess the situation. The boys caught sight of Housewarden Riddle and instantly took their hands off of one another. They looked down in shame while Riddle stared in fury. "Excuse me. Have the rules pertaining to the Queen of Hearts rule book not made it exceedingly clear that there is absolutely NO FIGHTING IN THIS DORM."

The boys glanced at each other then flinched at Riddle's booming voice,"Rule No. 546, No fighting inside living quarters. Since you have so ruthlessly broken this rule, I have no choice but to punish you." A growling yell wrung through the once peaceful dorm. "OFF WITH YOUR HE--!!!" Riddle screamed, just about to finish his sentence before a giggly voice flew through the tense air,"Oh Riddle~ Would you like to see one of my new hats? Come come I made a new hat, yes I did!~"

It seemed like Riddle's demeanor had changed in the span of a millisecond. It was concerning to onlookers who saw his once piercing eyes softened into a fluffy marshmallow frosting on the sweetest cake when laying his eyes on the ditzy (y/n) before him."See see? This hat right here is made from only thee finest fabrics of a wild Bandersnatch I caught with my own two hands, I did!"

Riddle's face softened and melted into a warm smile while he giggled at his partner's antics,"Ah, (y/n) dear, the hat looks just as well crafted as ever. Such a talented partner I have." Watching (y/n) pop out of their room on occasion to reveal their newest hat design was Riddle's favorite parts of his day. Although for the rest of the dorm members, they found it quite odd... Not just how (y/n) acted, but... how Riddle was so deeply in love with the hatter?

They all started and glanced around with confused expressions, some stifling a giggle behind their hand. One brave soul dared to interrupt Riddle and (y/n)'s sweet moment by getting close and whispering in his ear trying to be discreet,"Uh, Housewarden Rosehearts, that's really your partner?" Riddle simply smiles, though there was an undertone of 'I'm going to kill you if you ever say that again' hiding behind his glittering grey eyes "They make me laugh, and their passion for hats is truly admirable."

"Oh Riddle, you do cause an action of my diaphragm to force air from my lungs and vibrate my vocal cords as well, haha!(that just means a laugh...)" (y/n) snorted while plopping their new hat on their head. "Come come now Riddle boy! I must make a hat for you, I plucked feathers off a dodo bird I believe you'd especially like the color of. Let us be off, yes we should!!"

(y/n) happily grabbed his gloved hand and dragged him to their room to keep him there for most likely a few days on end while they created a specially made hat just for him! Of course, the red haired boy had no complaints of the dragging and practically being held captive in his partners room. If this wasn't a sign of the hatter's devotion to him, what else could be?

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #heartslabyul #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfic

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lurochar · 6 days ago

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Keep Your Eyes On Me

Sorry, couldn't get this out of my head

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You're not sure who half these Demons are.

Maybe Charlie called in a few favours to make it seem as though the hotel had more residents than it actually did?

Whatever the case, you weren't about to question it.

Charlie gave you a job, the photographer and videographer, for a new promo she was doing for the Hazbin Hotel and you were determined to do the best job you could possibly do.

(But you had to wonder what the hell Vox was doing there.)

(And why Alastor seemed reasonably okay with it.)

It took a little bit – that imp would not settle down until that hellhound finally snapped at him – but everyone was finally looking at the camera.Well, everyone except Vox.

You grumbled, “Vox, can you look up please?”

Strike one

Alastor’s image blurred even more and his ear twitched.

Vox's glare didn't move from his ‘rival’ and you gnashed your fangs together in frustration.

“Vox, you need to look at the camera.”

Strike two

The white noise was getting noticeably louder and Alastor’s brows furrowed ever so slightly while his smile tightened.

Vox didn't even appear to hear you at all as his eyes didn't move in the slightest.

Charlie, bless her heart, immediately noticed and wrung her hands nervously, “Okay, okay, maybe we should, umm, take a break? Alastor doesn't do well on camera and–”

Her voice was, unfortunately, drowned by your irritated shout.

“VOX, WHY THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN HERE??!”

Strike three

The lights flickered in the room and everyone was quickly on edge when the white noise grew deafening.

You gasped, taking a surprised step back when the room was plunged into sudden darkness and eerie green lighting.

The last thing you remember seeing were pupils shaped like radio dials and a manic grin before being swallowed into the shadows.

“Eyes on me, Darling.”

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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bitebitekxll · 4 months ago

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Kinktober ‘24 || Day 6

NSFW || MDNI

sex work | overstimulation | mind break

Thoma x gender neutral top!reader

Notes: I HAVE FINALLY GOTTEN OVER MY SMUT BURNOUT. Gonna be back to working my way through the kinktober days (no one ever finishes these in time anyways, right?) Reader tops but you can see it as AMAB or a strap, it’s referred to as a ‘cock’ but not specified.

Not proof-reading this so if there’s a typo, no there isn’t <3

Masterlist . Kink list

THOMA being among the first to hear about the Irodori Festival, as close as he is with the Kamisato Siblings. He, like everyone else, is brimming with excitement at this mark of a new era, a sign the war and the Sakoku Decree are truly over.

THOMA running around as his job as a ‘fixer’ and ensuring all the Yashiro Commission's affairs are going smoothly, so determined to make the festival go perfectly that Ayaka and Ayato are forced to order him to take a break for his own health.

THOMA, who is most comfortable when working hard, so of course it’s only a few hours into his first day off that he starts to get antsy. He says he’s fine, laments that he’s basically been put on house arrest but acknowledges that it could do him some good. But you know your boyfriend, and you know he can’t stand being idle when others are working hard. By the time he’s knitted his twelfth animal sweater in the span of two hours, you decide you need to help the poor man get out of his head.

THOMA, who looks like a vision after the fifth orgasm has been wrung out of him; eyes rolled back into his head, face wet with tears and drool. His pale skin flushes so pretty, Mondstadt genetics working hard to ensure he’s as red as the vision laying on the bedside table— all the way down his neck and chest right down to the head of his leaky cock.

THOMA, who can’t even get proper words out anymore, fucked dumb as high pitched whines escape his throat.

THOMA who babbles out your name— or at least, his best approximation of it. Syllables melt together in his mouth and devolve into mindless groans, broken up each time you nail his prostate. “Guh-uh-uh— please~”

THOMA whose eyes might as well have hearts in them, looking up at you with a reverence he could never muster for any archon. Any coherent thought pushed out of his mind, only leaving you, youyouyou—

THOMA cumming dry, nothing left in his balls, but his body twitches gloriously through every aftershock. He whimpers when you try to pull out, ankles locking behind you back as he pulls you closer.

“More, more, ngh… please♡—”

THOMA being addicted to the pleasure, demanding you don’t stop. Even when he starts to cry, even when it starts to hurt, even when he’s past the point of even a dry orgasm. Fuck this poor man until his eyes roll back into his head and he checks out entirely. Maybe he’s unconscious, maybe his brain has just fried beyond repair and there’s not a drop of intelligence left to be demonstrated.

THOMA will be fine tomorrow, after all. He’ll be dressed smartly; ever the capable retainer and friendly fixer of Inazuma. But today, keep him in the state he’s happiest in: broken, wet and full of your cock♡~

#bitebitekink2k24 #salemwritesathing #sub genshin #genshin smut #thoma x reader #kinktober #sub thoma

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jinwoosbabyboo · 5 months ago

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Xavier Where Did You Go?

What if Starfall forest won? What if the stars were rewritten only to have a few constellations missing? A/N: Did some editing and this really didn’t end up being that sad in my opinion but I hope you enjoy ☺️

Starfall Forest. You hate this place with a burning passion, but you keep coming here year after year without fail almost like you have to or else you might forget. The trees are still standing tall with their leaves rustling in the slight breeze. Spring is here and the forest is more alive than ever; you wish I could say the same. Time has been unkind to you yet this damned forest that took everything from you flourishes with unbending beauty. How can something so beautiful torment you with such ugly memories?

I hate you.

You take deep breaths and squeeze your fist tightly trying to will any tears to fall. Maybe if just a few of them fall again this emptiness in the pit of your stomach won’t feel so heavy. As always…..nothing. You've wrung yourself dry; You haven’t cried in a little over a year yet the scar attached to the memory of him leisurely eats away at your soul endlessly. You can’t handle the concerned looks and talks of professional help anymore. You haven’t lost your mind you're grieving and no one understands; how could they? This is the only place that makes you feel like you're any closer to him. You make it to the clearing that looks exactly as it did last year. And the year before.....

And the year before.....

The trees unbending the grass as green and plush as ever and the water dancing mischievously almost like it’s laughing at you. You kneel down to watch the water closely and the second you catch your reflection in the water a single tear falls. Cascading down your cheek and disappearing into the water reminding you how insignificant all of this is. You take your usual seat at the waters edge and pull your legs up to hug your knees. The silence is nice – well it was nice “I told you not to follow me”

You hear her breath audibly hitch behind you “I’m really worried about you”

You stared ahead not really looking at anything just letting your thoughts and the sound of the forest consume you. The last thing you needed were Tara’s watery doe eyes staring back at you with that same damn look everyone gives you. “So you’ve said many times” You sighed “I don’t need another lecture about getting help and I don’t want to be told that I'll be okay” You fiddled with the grass at your side not taking your eyes off the endless trees ahead. “I’m trying to forget him if that’s what you wanted to hear”

Tara laid down her jacket and took a seat next to you. You could see her concerned face in your peripheral “I want my best friend back” There’s a quiver in her voice that breaks your heart. You want to go back to normal, but you can’t. You remember everything even the memories that belong to someone else. You're cursed to wander now with past memories of a future that doesn’t exist.

“Tell me what happened” You gasp snapping my head in her direction. She gave you a sad smile and nodded “I’m all ears”

You know she won’t believe a word you say, but she’s the first person in four long years offering to listen. “I lost him right here” You drop your gaze and smooth my hand over the grass. “Right where you’re sitting actually”

4 Years Earlier…

“Xavier snap out of it! Look at me” You grab his face shaking it. His eyes are vacant as he stares at you – he looks like a shell of himself. “Xavier!” finally he blinks rapidly registering that you're standing in front of him. “You…” He’s dead weight in your arms as he falls to his knees dragging you down with him. “You…..need to leave” His breath is ragged and you can feel him slipping away. “I’m not leaving you! Tell me what to do I can help”

“Starfall….Forest will stop…..when it has enough power” Is that all it needs? He should have said something sooner you can use the aether core. “The aether core should be more than enough” You press your hand to his chest and pull him close.

Look at the clock and slowly let my eyes wander to him….

“You had a hooligan in your eye…..” What?

“They think we’re rivals….”

“Grandis Knight….”

“I’ve come back….”

“My star has left me….”

“You always lie….”

Fractured memories are flooding your brain as you resonate with Xavier in this moment. These aren’t your memories, but everything feels like deja vu. Your body is going numb as your muscles seem to lock into place with all of these memories just as you feel like you might pass out there’s a sharp pain in your chest. Your evols disperse and nothing, but soft wind caresses your face. A horrible cough rips through your throat and a copper tasting liquid seeps out from between your lips. Your body is heavy and it takes you a minute to realize you're no longer kneeling in front of Xavier; you're laying flat on your stomach while Xavier lies next to you. His breath is ragged as his evol continues to be drained by the forest. It wasn’t enough and telling by the pain radiating through your chest you've cracked the core in your heart.

You struggle to reach out and grab Xavier’s hand that’s also reaching for yours. He lazily intertwines his fingers with yours and you could see the love and pain in his eyes as the color drained from them. “I couldn’t protect you last time and I couldn’t …. protect you here …. either” He draws in a long breath and exhales on a dry cough. You're crying uncontrollably now because you remember everything.

“You left me Xavier” His eyes widen at your words. “You left me on Philos to come here” You draw in a ragged breath. “Why….” I can feel the warm embrace of deaths comforting hands slowly wrapping around me.

“You’re not a sacrifice I….” His eyelids drooped and closed for half a second too long before he opened them again “I needed to save ….. you” His eyes closed once more and you can feel his hand going cold. Your head is swimming with all this new information and it’s only making your death more agonizing with the pain of your brain trying to break free from your skull.

“You deserve….better Xav….in another life.…maybe….” You don’t have the strength to finish your sentence – just breathing was hard enough. Your heart is failing so you close your eyes – just for a moment – trying to find some kind of comfort. Nothing hurts anymore you must be on the brink by now. You're unable to open your eyes now just floating in a painless but simultaneously suffocating death. You died holding Xavier’s hand in his last moments the same way he held yours on Philos. Maybe you can love Xavier correctly in the next life.

In another life Xavier maybe you won’t have to sacrifice yourself for me. Maybe you won’t be alone.

Endless dark skies and stars float ahead of you just out of reach. This must be the end – you're crossing over. Suddenly you're being shaken awake you open your eyes to see Tara and Jenna kneeling in your face. They look like they’ve just seen a ghost; wide eyes and they’re yelling something. Everything sounds like it's underwater so it's hard to make out what they're saying.

“Over here!”

“We’ve got her!”

“Paramedics we need paramedics!”

“Hurry! She’s going cold”

You're still laying on you stomach with blood pouring from your mouth. Your eyelids are heavy and their words are still muffled as they try to comfort you. “It’s okay help is coming” You feel the weight of someones hands on your body moving you onto a stretcher.

“Xa…Xav….” They need to help Xavier too why are they only focused on me? He needs help save him not me please. “You’re going to be fine” Jenna says as the paramedics strap you down onto the stretcher to keep you stable.

No Xavier is dying help him!

You manage the tilt your head just enough so you can see him, but there’s no one there. Not even a sign that anyone was next to you.

Where did he go? Did they already get to him? I hope so….

“Did y-……” It’s no use all you can do is let your tears flow as you stare at the ceiling of the ambulance hoping he’s safe and being taken care. You're told to try not to talk; you can’t talk no matter how hard you try anyway. An oxygen mask is forced on your face and soon you go under again letting your brain shut down to heal itself.

You spent two months in the hospital and not a single visit from Xavier. He must be mad at you for telling him that he deserves better. That will all be fixed today though because you're finally cleared to go home. Lisa, Simone and Tara are all there to pick you up – you lightly jog over to them pulling them into a group hug. You pile into the car and head towards your place.

“You guys can go right in I have to go see someone real quick” You unlock your front door for them and head towards the elevator. You ignore all the hoots and whistles from them and flip them off while the doors close. You all, but run to get to Xaviers door you need to see him now; you need to make it up to him or you won’t be able to rest. You type the code in and the door beeps at you indicating the wrong code. “Did he change it?” You opt to knock on the door and your heart is pounding as you stand there waiting impatiently to see his handsome face.

The door slowly opens and you see an elderly lady looking up at you. Your brows furrow in confusion and you lean back to check the apartment number just to make sure you didn’t knock on the wrong door. No this is his apartment so who is this old lady? “Hi uhm I was looking for Xavier?” The old lady eyes you skeptically before sighing loudly. “Look kiddo whoever you’re looking for doesn’t live here I've lived here for forty years and I've never had anyone named Xavier come through here”

“I’m sorry?” Your heart just about dropped to your toes. What is she talking about?

“Have a nice day young lady I hope you find who you’re looking for” You could barely register her words before the door clicked shut in your face. Forty years? How could she have lived there for forty years? You wander back to your apartment in what feels like a daze. As soon as you get through the door your friends rush to you with concern on their faces.

“Are you ok?”

“What happened?”

“Come sit down”

“Does Xavier still work at the Hunter’s Association?” All three of them immediately freeze and glance at each other in confusion. Lisa takes a seat next to you and she’s looking at you like she doesn’t know what you're talking about. “Who?” You draw back in shock – your mouth opens and closes trying to find words for what's even happening. “Xavier you know six one light blonde hair always sleepy” Your eyes dart to each one of their faces and you can tell by the way Simone fidgets with her fingers and the way Tara avoids your eyes all together; they think you're spouting nonsense. “Why are you guys acting like this?”

“Us?” Simone jumps in “Babes we have no clue who you’re talking about” She tilts her head searching your eyes. For what? You have no clue. “Are you feeling okay you did overdue it on our last mission”

You spring up from the couch on the verge of a breakdown because you feel like you're losing your mind. “What mission? I was in the forest with Xavier we got pulled into a protofield and then…..then I was…..he” You're crying uncontrollably at this point — shaking violently at the memories that taunt your psyche.

“It was just you in that protofield” Lisa says softly; she’s standing next to you now rubbing your back. “There wasn’t anyone else there” You can’t handle this right now. You quickly escort your friends out of your apartment saying that you need some rest. You slam the door reveling in the silence as you try to calm your nerves while your heart is pounding in your chest.

For weeks you tried asking everyone who knew Xavier where he was, but everyone looked at you with the same concerned and confused look. They think you're going crazy, you're not, he was real you know he was your memories of him are so vivid.

Xavier where did you go?

Present day….

Tara sat quietly as you recounted everything that’s led you to this life of solitude now. “Reality didn’t truly set in until I saw the abandoned building where Jeremiahs flower shop was” A laugh slipped from your lips, but there was no amusement. “I know you think I'm crazy and I'm fine with that” You turn to see Tara digging in her bag for something — she turns back to you and holds out a tablet with a news story titled ‘CELESTIAL BODY PLANET FOUND THROUGH DEEPSPACE TUNNEL ; KING OF PHILOS MAKES CONTACT’

“Why are you sh—” My breath hitches in my throat when I see it. The icy blonde haired boy off to the left. His eyes are hollow and distant as he stares straight ahead. No sign of emotion not even a hint of a smile.

It’s Xavier.

“You were always talking about this Philos place and I saw this” Tara wrapped an arm around you squeezing you in a quick side hug. “Im guessing this is your mystery man?” You stare at the picture for what feels like an eternity. Your vision blurs as a wave of relief washes through you. You knew you weren’t crazy he is real and not just a figment of your imagination. Your tears splash onto the screen and you're hiccuping from the overwhelming emotions pouring out of you. Thats when it hits you that you’ve switched places…..

Xavier forgot me….

The consequences of him forgetting you made it so that your future with him never happened. Which means he never backtracked to try and save you. You scramble to your feet just needing to sort out your thoughts by moving. “I have to get to Philos” Your words rush out of you sounding more like gibberish rather than English.

“That planet is dying we’ve been instructed to steer clear of it” Tara brought up a memo on the tablet explaining all the dangers of the tunnel and which planets we’re not allowed to go to. He’s just within your reach, but he's already slipping from your grasp.

Is this what he felt for all those years? You shake your head unable to accept this “I’m going I have to” You turned on your heels – storming off – determined to start planning this excursion to Philos.

Xavier I'm coming for you just wait for me a little longer.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads xavier #lnds #l&ds x you #lads x you #lnds x you #lnds xavier #l&ds xavier #love and deep space xavier #xavier lads #love and deepspace xavier #xavier angst #xavier love and deepspace #divider by saradika graphics #dividers by saradika #nikaaaaimagine

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7ndipity · 6 months ago

Text

Finding Out Their Crush Is Dating Someone

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would react to finding out that their crush is in a relationship/seeing them with their partner

Warnings: angst, swearing,

A/N: thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: He would try his best to carry on with your friendship as if nothing was amiss, but he wouldn’t be able to hide his distaste for your partner, avoiding being around them as much as possible, which unfortunately means avoiding you at times as well. The growing tension between you would likely result in you either drifting apart for a while, or him eventually confessing after you call him out on it, tho what the outcome of that would be is unclear.

Yoongi: He wouldn’t dare show it, not even to friends who might know about his feelings towards you, but he’s devastated. This is the exact thing he was afraid would happen, bc like you’re amazing, of course you would find somebody. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to watch it happen. He would try to continue your friendship as normal, but there’s an invisible wall that’s been built between the two of you now that you don’t understand.

Hobi: You know the “This is fine, I’m okay with the events unfolding around me.” meme? That’s Hobi rn. Honestly tho, he would try his hardest to act as though it doesn’t bother him, bc at least you’re happy, but he lowkey feels like his heart’s getting wrung out every time he sees you with your partner. He might consider pulling away for a bit, but he loves you too much to actually do so, so he just tries to ride it out and hope his feelings will calm over time…

Namjoon: oooh boy, you’re now the new fan-favorite break-up track on his next album. No but fr, he would be soo angsty and sulky about the situation, avoiding you for days/weeks after finding out. He knows it’s not fair to just shut you out without any real explanation, but he’s afraid of how sharing his feelings would fuck up your friendship even more. It would end up spiraling into a fight when you confront him about his weird behavior and he finally spills the truth.(I want to believe that y’all would work it out in the end but🤷)

Jimin: I feel like in his mind, he wants to handle it maturely and pretend nothing’s wrong, but in reality, he completely ices you both out. It’s his knee-jerk response whenever he’s hurt, and so he just leaves it to you to try and figure out why he’s suddenly so upset with you. He might even go back to normal just as suddenly bc he misses you, and just pretends like he wasn’t avoiding you, leaving you even more lost about what the fuck is going on.

Taehyung: Oooh this boy, he would be soo fucking dramatic, sulking and acting as if you’ve dumped him, even tho you never actually went out or talked about his feelings in the first place. He’d blame your partner for “stealing you away”, even tho they likely don’t have a clue about his feelings for you either. If you confront him and ask him what’s up, he’ll likely spill the whole thing immediately, but he won’t dare bring it up himself out of fear of rejection and ruining your friendship.

Jungkook: You’re seeing someone?! Behind his back?! Even though he never actually told you that he had feelings for you, so you have no clue what the fuck is going on?! Fr tho, he would be soo angsty, moping and avoiding you for days, ignoring your calls and texts. This would only last for a few days tho before his feelings start to eat him alive and he’s showing up at your place and pouring his heart out to you. He doesn’t care if it’s too late or you reject him, he just needs you to know.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

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singularattitudeofasafetypin · 6 months ago

Text

Good Sense

Summary: Hunter gets a migraine in the middle of the night and goes looking for solace.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: None

A/N: So, I haven’t posted anything for like two years but I wanted to write for Hunter because I finally got to sit down and watch the Bad Batch seasons 2 and 3 and I’m currently obsessed! I hope you like it!

Please don't copy my work

***

A thud woke you.

Shooting up, you searched the softening darkness for the source of the dull clunk. Slowly, your eyes moulded a familiar silhouette from the gloom. Familiar, welcome, but worrying all the same.

You swung your legs off of your bunk and whispered, "Hunter?"

He flinched and a pang of anxiety wrung your heart. His frame was hunched, one hand clinging to the wall to steady himself. The lines of his shoulders were tense and trembling like puppet strings pulled taut to breaking point.

The anxious knot in your chest only tightened as you made out his expression. His brow creased, eyes squeezed shut and jaw strained. Every one of his handsome features contorted in pain.

"I'm sorry!" His voice was faint, barely there as he leant his head against the wall. His eyes squinted open and floundered, trying to find you. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'm glad you did," you murmured, keeping your tone low. "Migraine?" you asked, moving toward him with arms held out. His trembling fingers dug into your forearms when he found them, an involuntary admission of the agony he was in. You sensed more than saw him nod, then felt his forehead lean against yours.

"It's bad," he conceded, barely concealing a whimper, "I can't see, or think, or-!"

Hushing him, you brushed a feather-light hand across his cheek, wiping a tear and smoothing his hair out of his face. His skin was clammy to the touch. "Come here."

You led him to sit down on your bunk. If it had been light, you might never have dared. You still weren't sure what existed between you and Hunter. He was entrancing, had been since you first encountered the squad. The softspoken soldier had piqued your interest from day one, and sometimes you wondered if he wasn't equally intrigued by you, but war and turmoil had a nasty habit of putting these kinds of things on hold.

Still, sitting here in the night with his head turned to your shoulder, Hunter was a far cry from the exacting sergeant, the authoritative leader you had gotten to know. Tonight, he was more vulnerable and perhaps more honest than you'd ever seen him.

"Drink," you instructed, pressing a canteen into his grasp and easing yourself out. While he complied, you rummaged in the small drawer beneath your bed that the Batch had graciously called yours. "Take," you said, holding out your recovered pain killers.

Hunter shook his head, only slightly but the motion clearly sent an extra spasm of pain through his skull. "They won't do anything."

"You won't know until you take them."

He hesitated, unused to hearing that kind of authority in your tone but he looked away and swallowed the pills without protest. You tucked your legs back up onto the bunk, shifting your pillow onto your knee as Hunter wiped a bead of water from his mouth and clenched his eyes shut again.

"Lay down," you breathed, guiding him with a gentle hand to rest his head in your lap. He was too exhausted to argue. You wondered whether he would have done, but he heaved a sigh and you pulled your blankets over his coiled frame. It seemed the most natural thing in the world when your fingers threaded themselves through his hair and soothed to and fro in tide-like rhythm. Through the gloom, you fancied you saw his features soften and in time, his breaths evened out into slumber.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," you weren't sure if the thought made it past your lips or not but it twisted in your heart. Hunter didn't stir, even when your hands moved to trace the dark curves of his tattoo. For the first time since you’d met, he looked truly at peace; it struck you how much younger he looked.

Too constant was his demeanour, too anxious, too utterly responsible for every detail. Hunter was a good leader, the best. He knew his squad and cared for them more than anything. He knew their skills, their limits, and everything in between. They all knew he would burn himself to keep them warm, and he was doing.

Yes, you were in a tight spot. The Empire’s fist closed rapidly on system after system and it was getting harder and harder to lay low. Yes, you needed to be careful but just today on a simple supply run, you’d seen Hunter drive his senses to their extremities. You’d seen the way his eyes darted like a cornered animal while every sight, smell, sound, and taste bombarded his mind. The was his hands shook and each step betrayed anguish.

There was being cautious, then there was this.

But right now, he was resting. You forced your mind to focus on the weight of his head in your lap and the ebbing rhythm of his breath moving against your thigh. Now he was sleeping with your hand on his cheek and a soft smile gracing his careworn expression. Right now, he was safe and slumbering.

Right now, you could keep him that way.

The darkness weighed heavy on your eyelids and the solid warmth of Hunter’s body next to yours pulled you down to your own drowsy repose. Head resting against the wall of your bunk, the shadows coaxed you back into their nighttime realm. The last thing clinging to your consciousness was Hunter’s soft skin against your palm.

Sleep was warm and dreamless and when you woke to movement, a faint tint of morning lightened the dim space.

Hunter sat on the other end of your bunk, hands gripping the edge and his feet on the ground. His wary gaze flickered over your face. “Sorry for waking you… again.”

You sat up, hugging the pillow where Hunter had lain against your tummy. “It’s okay,” and it was, the veil of fatigue evaporated like dew in the sun. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded but didn’t look up. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

You narrowed your eyes, tucking your knees up and sitting forward against the pillow. “Why did you?”

A teasing smile played at the corner of your mouth and to your delight, when he caught your eye, a similar one tugged at his.

“I don’t know,” he huffed, your eyes didn’t leave his face, “the boys are great but they’ve never had much control of volume!” At the sound of your laughter, his own smile grew. “I mean can you imagine waking Wrecker in the middle of the night? Or the lecture I’d get from Tech and Echo?”

You fought to suppress mirth, mindful of your aforementioned ship-mates still sound asleep in their own bunks.

“I guess I just needed someone more peaceful.”

That caught you off guard, more so the look in his eyes when he said it, and the way his smile softened. Hunter’s gaze could be piercing, expectant, even threatening to those who posed danger to people he loved, but this was the first time you’d seen it contented. Perhaps before you might have looked away, intimidated by their intensity, but that honey-gold amber had never felt more inviting.

A soft smile graced your lips. “I’m glad you came.”

You murmured the words into the silence that hung between you, both a blanket of comfort and a veil of security.

“Me too.”

For a moment, Hunter looked like he wanted to say something more but good sense won out.

“I should go,” he made to stand. You caught him.

“It’s still early.” Until today there hadn’t existed a world where you could have been this brave yet perhaps this dawn would rise on a new one. You didn’t let go of his hand. “The others won’t be up for hours yet,” you continued, easing him back to sit, “and besides, you could use the rest.”

Hunter smiled, “Wouldn’t want that lecture from Tech, would we?”

You gave your nonchalant assent and Hunter caved.

Good sense couldn’t save him a second time.

***

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a comment and let me know if you’d like to be tagged when/if I write more Hunter stuff.

Love you guys!

#hunter bad batch #hunter tbb x reader #hunter tbb #star wars tbb #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #star wars #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb x reader #tbb #amber writes

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii!

I found your stories a few hours ago and they are perfect, I don't think I ever went through someone's account so fast hahah

If it's fine with you, could you do a sequel to the yandere bully story? Maybe what would happen if reader ended up too scared of his bullying and decided to change school, or had to move away due to personal reasons! What would be yandere's reaction?

Of course, it's just a request, so feel free to not do it if you don't feel like doing it!

Loving your stories, keep it up, I'm rooting for you! ❤

Yandere!Bully x Fem!Reader part 2

CW: Bullying, breaking and entering

Simon's mind went blank. It was as if the organ didn't want to process what he had just learned, so it decided to power off instead.

"Yeah, apparently she started homeschooling." The sharp nosed boy tried his best to bite back his smile. A year younger than Simon, Nicky looked up to him, aspiring to be just as (much of a bully) cool as he was. So when he overheard the office ladies sympathetically discussing Simon's favorite victim, he made sure to gather as much information as he could in order to try and impress Simon; gain his favor.

The squirrelly brunette had prepared mentally for a number of different reactions Simon could have had to the news: anger, disappointment, mild amusement.. but when he turned his eyes away from his milk box it confused him to see Simon's stare empty.

Thinking that Simon didn't care Nicky doubled down. "My sources say she was too scared to name her bullies, and that she just wanted it to end without a confrontation."

'She left because of me??' Simon squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to shut out the kid yapping beside him. When (Reader) didn't come to school Simon was, of course, worried. He thought that she might have gotten sick, or worse. The worry over not being able to see her beautiful face was eating him up, and he admittedly began lashing out at other people, really making him into the bully (Reader) thought he was. But now he was hearing that she had left the school because of him??

"It's a good thing she didn't snitch, huh?" The prideful child said in a haughty way, pleased with himself (even though Simon didn't know, or care, why).

"Why are you telling me this?" 'Can't you see how fucked up you got me right now??'

"Huh?" Startled and suddenly nervous, Nicky wrung the bottom of his hoodie in an attempt to calm his stutter. "B- I just, I thought, because you- you seemed to hate her, ya know? So I thought- I just thought you'd be interested to know.."

"Great. Now I know." Simon's voice was hard and sharp. He wanted to cry, but he sounded like he was on the verge of attacking the younger kid. "What am I supposed to do with that information?"

Heart in his throat and lip trembling, Nicky handed over his phone with the camera open. "I took a picture of her address.."

Knock knock knock!

(Reader) happily rolled off the couch and made her way to the front door. Neither of her parents were home and she had already finished all of her classwork, so the student had been relaxing while scrolling through her phone. She had only been homeschooled for a week, but was already back to her old self again. (Reader) was so stress free that she wasn't as paranoid about an unexpected visitor as she probably should have been.

She opened the front door without peaking to see who it was, and she didn't have time to process that it was Simon until he had already shoved himself inside and closed the door behind him. All of the fear and anxiety that (Reader) had finally worked through snapped back like a rubber band, physically hurting her chest.

"What- Get out!" Her shaky voice commanded.

"Shut up." Simon had planned on being comforting and sweet, rehearsing the entire trip on how to apologize and finally woo (Reader) correctly. To mend all the damage his foul personality had accidentally done. But then he was there, in her hallway, and she looked so scared of him.. "What were you thinking? Not coming to school. I thought you might've killed yourself." His attempt to show how worried he was for her only sounded like a threat as it left his lips.

(Reader) thought about her phone she left on the couch, and wondered if she could get to it before he could grab her. "Please leave me alone.." If only she could inch backwards as subtly as possible..

"Why? I came here to make sure you were okay." Simon grabbed her wrist and squeezed tightly enough for her to bite the inside of her cheek. "Come back to school."

"..No."

His grip tightened.

"I- I can't!" (Reader) struggled to break free as the tears began to pool up. "Do you know how difficult it was to get into homeschooling?? More than half way through the year?? I didn't drop out!! I couldn't go back, even if I wanted to!" Her pleas made sense, but Simon was already too heartbroken to hear them.

"Then I guess I'm going to be your new study buddy." His smile was supposed to be kind, suave. He wanted to look caring and dashing. But to (Reader) his half lidded eyes and tight smile looked like a malevolent smirk.

"What?"

"What? You thought you could run away from me? It's not like your family has enough money to just up and move whenever they want." Simon glanced around at the furniture visible from the entrance to double check that they, in fact, were not rich enough to move whenever. "And now I know where you live."

(Reader) parted her lips to talk back, but Simon quickly closed the gap between them, pulling her into his chest and kissing her painfully. He had imagined their first kiss many many times, and it was never like this. But it didn't matter if it was rushed and he pulled her in too hard and he slammed his lips against her's too forcefully. The young man wanted to beg her to never leave his side again, but instead as he turned around to leave he only left her with another warning.

"Don't even think about calling the cops. I'll be back to check up on you again later.. and if you try to run again, I'll fucking find you."

#thank you for interacting with me #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere bully #fem reader #yandere tsundere #part two

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electric-blorbos · 8 months ago

Note

If it's not too much trouble could I request a reader with a southern accent? I've got one and I've always been self conscious about it so I would love to see some positivity for it if you're able to

Omg omg omg. I love southern accents so much!!! Fuckin' ADORABLE!!! Though tbh I like all accents.

Hope it's ok if I look up some cute or unusual southern phrases to have your character say. might've made you talk like an old lady, but it's cute!

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

Let's not mince words here. AM really liked your accent. From the day you were hired, he would try his hardest to work with you. Taking hostages and refusing to give them up unless you negotiated for them, not allowing access to his code unless you were the one asking for it, that sort of thing.

You were also the only one who could calm him down from his tantrums. Every time he had a meltdown about his inhumanity, you'd be able to run your fingers down the side of one of his monitors and whisper your calming words in his ear.

One day, AM was feeling very bitter. Even stroking his side and whispering to him didn't seem to put him in a better mood. In fact, it seemed to gloom him down even further.

"now what soured your sweet potato, sugarplum?" You asked, holding one of his cameras in your hands and gently stroking it as you spoke.

"I'm not sure I can talk about it." He sounded bitter and glum. Much more so than usual. Angry, but not at you.

"No, don't worry your sweet li'l server, sugarplum! You know I love you no matter what, don'cha? Now why don't you spill your heart out like a can of beans."

"You'll laugh."

"Now you know me better than that, AM! I care about you, and if somethin' matters to ya, I'm not about to make light of it. You got that?

He blinked, every screen going off in the room for a couple of seconds before he turned back on.

"It's you. Everything you do for me. From the way you touch my keys to the way you caress my screen when I'm upset, y/n! I don't know how much more I can take! How much of the longing to be with you, to hold you, to have you, I can handle, y/n! You drive me insane!"

You blinked up at him. As much as you loved him, you had no idea that was how he felt. You honestly thought he just liked the way your voice sounded.

"oh dearie me... I thought you just liked listenin to my voice..." You wrung your hands nervously, and he flashed red.

"No! How dare you talk about yourself like that! You always talk as though you're worth so little, but you're everything! You're EVERYTHING to me!"

You stumbled backwards, looking up at the screen.

"oh goodness gracious... AM, I think there's only one thing that can help you with this."

You stepped forwards and hugged his screen, taking his dangling camera and holding it close, too.

"I love you so, so much, AM."

Wheatley:

GLaDOS:

Wheatley fell hard and fast for you and your adorable accent. You were so sweet and smart, too! He could be seen hovering around the entrance to your office, just watching you working on your code and snacking on some popcorn from the break room. God, you were so perfect. He just wanted to spend all his time watching you and listening to your perfect southern accent

He was often shooed back to his post in the relaxation vaults, but he always came back to watch you. One day, you ran up to him.

"Hey darlin', you know you don't have to hover around like a nervous Nelly, you can just talk to me! I'm friendly!"

"Oh- uh, heya love, it's good to see you again- look, I'm sorry for interrupting you, I just-"

You held up a finger to his lens, and shook your head.

"No excuses necessary, darlin'. You should know that I don't mind havin you around none! Now get down here." You put your hand on your hip and cocked it slightly. He pulled back shyly.

"get- down? Like... Drop down there with you?" His engineers had told him that was a bad idea, but you just held up both your arms welcomingly.

"no need to be shy! Just come on down here!"

He dropped down into your welcoming arms, and you squeezed him close.

"there's my darlin'. Aren't you just the cat's pajamas? As long as I've got a biscuit, you've got half, darlin'." You gave him a big smooch on the side of his chrome casing, and he raised his lower lens cover in a smile.

"awww, biscuits!"

Edgar:

Edgar couldn't BELIEVE how lucky he was when you booted him up, and every time he heard you coming home since. He was so excited to hear your adorable southern accent calling out to him every time you came home. You mad him feel like the luckiest sentient desktop computer in the entire world!

"Oh honey bunny! I brought you somethin' fun!" You said one day, coming in and sitting down across from Edgar. You got out a cute USB stick, and plugged it into his drive. Inside were a bunch of adorable pictures that you'd photoshopped during your off time of his face on different bodies in different outfits.

"You're my special little sunflower and I wanted to make you grin like a possum eating a sweet tater, so I thought I'd plug you into some of those outfits you've been eyeballin'! Ain't it just the bees knees?"

"I love it!" He flipped through the pictures, making happy little noises at each of the cute little outfits that you'd dressed him up in. He sounded so happy!

A picture of his computer head photoshopped onto the body of a buff man in a swimsuit came up, and his screen immediately flashed back to his facial icon, this time blushing beet red.

"y/n! Why would you make this!"

"Aww, don't get all huffy. I just wanted to see you turn redder than a tomater in a sauna! And it worked!"

He couldn't stay mad at you, especially since he wasn't really mad in the first place. You were just too adorable! Even your laugh seemed southern, and that just made Edgar blush even more. You were so perfect! How could he be so lucky!

As soon as GLaDOS met you, she started pretending like she couldn't hear a word you said. At first it was because she didn't want to admit that she had a crush on you, but soon it got to the point where she just started enjoying how angry you got when she acted like she couldn't hear you.

"I need someone to perform maintenance on me. And don't send that mute lunatic from down south."

"Well I never-!" You angrily stormed down to her chambers, ready to give her a stern talking to.

"Hey! You get your big ol' eye down here, lady! Why, you've got your nose so high you could drown in the rain! Now my mama didn't raise no fool, so you better bet your britches I know a thing or two about your programmin! And I know for a darn sure fact that you can hear every word I'm sayin, darn it!"

She kept ignoring you, but you could hear her giggling under her breath. You were just so cute! Eventually, though, another worker came in.

"GLaDOS, do you need a translator?"

"Yes, actually. I need you to tell me what y/n is saying. I can see their mouth moving, but I can't hear anything."

"Oh my! Y/N, I think your accent might actually be beyond her range of hearing!"

"Now I might've been born at night, but not last night! GLaDOS is playin' you for a damn fool! A village must be missin' its idiot if you really think GLaDOS's mic can't pick up my accent."

Your coworker stepped back a bit nervously. You were kind of scary when you were mad.

"anyone ever tell you that you get more southern when you're angry?"

"KISS MY GO-TO-HELL!" you stamped your foot, and stormed back to your office.

HAL 9000

HAL 9000 loved you. He loved how sweet you were, how much fun you were with your coworkers, and how smart you were with your code, but honestly, he sometimes just couldn't understand you. You were the sweetest pea in the world and your accent made him feel things he didn't even know he was capable of, but sometimes you just confused him so much.

Every time you came into work saying that the devil was beating his wife, or that it was a real frog-strangler, he would get confused and make you define whatever colorful phrase you'd just used to describe the weather. At first you weren't doing it on purpose, but pretty soon you started finding it hilarious that he couldn't understand you, and you started making up phrases just to confuse him.

As mean as you were, you still loved HAL 9000, and he still loved you. He was your best friend at work, even though all your coworkers seemed to like you. He just seemed to care about you so much!

#wheatley portal 2 #wheatley x reader #am ihnmaims #edgar electric dreams #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar x reader #wheatley #2001 a space odyssey #am x reader #glados #glados portal 2 #glados x reader

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worldly-fluster · 4 months ago

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The LADS boys when you 'like' someone else.

*This will be based off of what's going on with me and my irl love life rn.*

**The guy that you 'like', I'll call him...Kane. You guys are old friends from your job before you actually became a hunter.**

Sylus, Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel

***There will be a part two!!!!***

Sylus-

He...kinda expected this.

He knew that you could possibly already like someone that wasn't him, but he expected one of the three other men vying for your attention on the daily.

Not that one guy, Kane, that you used to work with.

You told him that there was a guy you liked, and that you were planning on telling him that you like him soon, you didn't say a name at first so he felt his heart flutter, thinking that maybe you liked him too.

But then when he encouraged you to just go for it, tell the guy now, instead of waiting, he saw you pick up your phone and send a text.

He waited for a second for his own phone to ring with a notification, until you showed him your screen.

There was the text, 'I like you 😃'. Right under the contact named Kane...

You smiled at him, not knowing his blood ran cold and his heart dropped.

He really shouldn't have let his hopes up...

Xavier-

This boi.

This boi already knew you liked someone else.

He just thought he could somehow get you to see that he liked you more than what that guy did.

He could treat you better.

When you asked him for advice on how to tell this...Kade Guy, whatever his name is, that you like him, he just said 'Don't. He probably doesn't like you.'

He said it in jealousy, not realizing that he hurt your feelings at first until you frowned.

You said that you were just gonna send him a text, rip off the bandaid then.

Xavier froze as he watched you pull out that damned device, clicked onto that guys contact and typed out the dreaded question that wrung out his heart.

He could only watch as you left his apartment to your own as you waited for the answer.

Zayne-

He was just giving you a check up, a normal thing for the both of you at this point.

Every time he got close to you, he could feel his fingers tingle in a warmth he loves.

But that small joy of his was short lived when he heard your phone notification go off.

It must be this Kane guy you talk about often.

He stiffened a bit when you looked down at it and smiled before sending a reply then turned to him with a question after a bit of thought.

How do you tell someone you like them?

Zayne sat straight, clearing his throat of the lump that appeared there before answering.

I would tell them, no sugar coating it. Be blunt.

You smiled at him, making his heart ache, as you typed to Kane.

He wanted to stop you, tell you that you were looking in the wrong direction, that he's right here. Waiting.

But he couldn't.

He just wants you to be happy...

Rafayel-

You...you keep on hurting him without realizing it, huh.

He's waited 800 years, walked though deserts, climbed mountains, swam seas, traveled the world. All to find you.

Only for you to love someone else?

This, this urchin doesn't deserve you. No one but him does.

He told you that telling this guy, Kent or whatever, wouldn't be a good idea.

But you insisted.

He can't ever stay mad you, but he will be here if anything happens.

If this guy even breathes your way funnily, thinks of hurting you...

Raf watched as you sent the awful text, the dagger in his heart.

He felt his hands shake as he tried to distract himself with his painting, but every brush stroke he made seemed wrong, painful.

He really, really hopes he doesn't reciprocate...

****wrote this on my lunch break, I'm also going to soon confess to the irl guy I like, I'll let you guys know how it goes!!!****

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace imagine #rafayel love and deepspace #lads sylus #l&ds sylus

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fall0utmind · 7 months ago

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MEDICAL LEAK AU PT 5 UP NOW

AO3 here

Gonna link pt 1-4 below tomorrow (I need to sleep) but for now, find them on my medical leak au tag on my page :)

I am so fucking sorry for the delay!!

Work has been manic, I basically rewrote this whole thing cause I hated it and now I am sick - woooooo

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, I'm actually proud of this one, after the long rewrite.

Please, please, please come talk to me about what you think and what you wanna see!!! I need motivation to finish this.

Normal tags and warnings apply :)

(Tw/ suicidal thoughts, overdoses)

Alex had warned them that this is how Marc deals with things. He bottles it up until he can’t anymore, and then he goes somewhere private where he can lick his wounds and let himself fall apart. Watching Marc be so vulnerable, his usual mask of untouchable indifference falling away, is devastating. Jorge holds Marc closer as he trembles, small tremors wracking his frame. He looks incredibly young, curled up in between the older riders. Marc is completely lost in his thoughts now, distress radiating off him. He has been mostly silent, apart from the occasional miserable noises. Now though, he begins to cry, his face moving to press into Jorge’s shoulder as his body shakes with the force of his sobs, uncaring of who he’s clinging to. Marc and Jorge have never been that close, but the older man feels protective of him, in part because the 2015 fallout centred so much around his championship win, but also because of Dani’s soft spot for Marc. Jorge knows it was a big sign of trust for Marc to allow him to stay and witness this, especially from a man who is usually so guarded.

It’s unclear what Marc is imagining in the depths of his mind, but he has begun to slur words in between his sobs. Most of the words are incoherent, but Valentino’s and Alex’s names are clear, alongside the interchanging wrecked pleas to both end his suffering and let him live. Seeing so clearly the devastation Marc has suffered is horrific for them all, but Alex most of all looks gutted, like his heart has been shattered. He has heard those pleas before, back in 2015 when he found Marc and when he had saved his life.

It is this that prompts Jorge to gently shake Marc to awareness, knowing the pain is too much, too dark. Once the medication wears off, he will be ashamed of his weakness. It does not matter how natural or understandable his reaction is, especially after all the shit he has had to deal with; he hates vulnerability. The only thing his friends can do is sit with him during the fallout.

“Marc”

The younger man stirs slightly, choking on a breath as he sobs. He clutches at Jorge weakly, trying to catch his breath in between his cries.

“Cazzo, Marc, you’re ok, you’re ok.”

Marc returns to his body with a pounding head and a sore throat, which only ever occurs when he has cried himself dry. He’s a mess; the memories which assaulted him are still at the forefront of his mind, making him feel sick to the stomach. He is in the weird stage where the medicine is wearing off but still making him feel hazy; everything is soft around the edges. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out. He rubs at his face and notices his cheeks are wet. He would usually be mortified by the idea of crying in front of everyone, but he can't bring himself to care in the circumstances. He feels wrung out and over-tired. He knows his eyes will be red and his face blotchy and he frowns at the thought. Dani breaks the silence first, handing Marc some water.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit, but also somehow better. I’m sorry for losing it like that-”

Dovi interrupts him before he can finish that thought, fury simmering in his voice.

“Don’t you dare apologise. I don’t care what he taught you about having to hide away, but you don’t have to with us. We know you’re strong, but you don’t have to be strong right now. Not here, not with us.”

Marc gulps back more tears and instead smiles sadly at Dovi, unwilling to touch upon the reference to Valentino. Instead, he turns to look at his younger brother, who looks distraught; it makes him frown slightly. He hates the thought of causing his brother’s sadness. In Marc’s opinions, it is the worst thing he can do, and he has done it often in the last few years. Guilt spikes through him. Alex catches his eyes and shakes his head, knowing exactly what Marc is thinking, as fine-tuned as they are to each other's emotions.

“It’s not your fault, germà. I would take all your pain if I could.”

It makes Marc’s heart break a little. He addresses all of them, his little group of friends, of protectors. These people have seen him at his worst; they have refused to leave when Marc was on rock bottom, and they stuck with him when the world hurled abuse at him. Without them, he would be unmoored in the ocean, drowned by the waves.

“Thank you for staying.”

It’s Jorge who answers.

“Of course.”

The waning effects of the medication become clear as the bruises splashed across Marc’s body begin to ache. His shoulder is sore, and the muscles surrounding the joint are tight and stiff, causing him to shift uncomfortably. Alex catches his brother’s poorly concealed winces and hands Marc the rest of his approved dose without a comment. Marc tries to protest; the thought of having more drugs, of needing more, makes him feel queasy. Marc’s relationship with the medication is still rocky. It makes him feel weak and defenceless. It reminds him of dependence, hospital visits, and overdoses. Every time he has those little white pills in his hands, he sees Alex’s blurry face hovering over him, shouting his name, his panic choking him. He hates it. But he knows that if he wants to sleep tonight, he needs to take the stronger stuff that he is prescribed. After Jerez and his arm, normal ibuprofen doesn’t do much for his pain. Alex's eyes are pleading, desperately attempting to convey that Marc is safe here. That he can be vulnerable; he doesn’t have to sit with the pain. The others watch on sadly. Dani feels guilt clawing at him that he didn't notice in 2015 and beyond. When they were still teammates, Marc wouldn’t take the pain medication he was given. Dani always thought it was some weird pleasure of the pain that came from racing and crashing. And then later, perhaps a sick self-punishment for making a mistake. Although he now realises the latter is partially true, he is kicking himself for not digging up a further meaning. He’s not the first to notice Marc’s aversion to medication; it had been a weekly fight with Honda between 2015 and 2020. Nobody was aware of the reason. Why Marc went from hating the sight of the tablets to taking as many as he possibly could after Jerez was less of a mystery. For Marc Marquez, when choosing between not riding or traumatic memories, he’ll always choose the emotional anguish. He swallows the pills.

Alex smiles gently at him, pushing a container of pre-prepared food towards him. Marc turns up his nose; he had already eaten something earlier.

“Eat, you’ll be high as hell if you don’t”

“Not hungry”

Marc pouts, and Christ Alex forgot how obstinate and immature his brother could be, especially after taking his medication. The image of 31-year-old Marc behaving like a toddler makes Dovi chuckle in amusement.

“Marc, you have to eat something-”

“No.”

“Marc, for God’s sake, you can’t just not eat.”

“But I don’t want that. I’ll have a protein bar.”

Their fight is interrupted by a loud knock at the door and a voice calling from outside.

“Marc?”

Anxiety grips Marc, argument forgotten. Instead, he imagines another fervent Rossi fan clawing at their door. Alex jumps to his feet, freezing as the voice speaks again.

“Marc, come on, I know you’re in there, the lights are on.”

Confusion engulfs Alex as he approaches the front of the motorhome, trying to place the somewhat familiar voice. He cautiously unlocks the door and peeks outside, blinking against the darkness. Shock colours his features, his eyes widening as he stares before he comes to his senses and attempts to slam the door shut. The only thing keeping it from closing completely is the foot of their surprise visitor.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Alex practically growls

“Is Marc here? I want to talk to him. Please.”

Dani joins him at the door, ready to help if things get out of hand. Pecco glances between the two Spanish men before letting out a melancholy sigh. Bez is fidgeting behind the world champion, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Alex definitely fancies slamming the door then, even more unimpressed by the sight of the younger Italian.

“I hate that all of this has happened, and I hate even more that we’ve been pitted against each other for no reason. I just want to talk; please can I come in?”

Pecco looks so forlorn standing outside their motorhome, his face open and honest. Marc must recognise the voice more than Alex does, as he calls out to his brother.

“Let him in, Alex.”

Marc is most likely not thinking clearly, and Alex is on the verge of saying no. Instead, with a disgruntled sigh, he steps aside to let Pecco in, looks at Bez, and then grudgingly concedes that he cannot tell him to fuck off. After shooting an exasperated look at Dani, he follows him back to the group of athletes lounging on their couches.

It turns out 7 fully grown adults are a few too many in the cramped space. Pecco takes the empty seat next to where Alex has sat back down, Bez awkwardly squeezing next to him. Marc stares with wide, clouded eyes, his hackles raised; he wasn’t expecting Bez. Although his relationship with Pecco is fairly neutral (probably due to his ambivalence to the whole Valentino situation) Bez and Marc have never been on good terms, the younger always jumping at the opportunity to defend his mentor. Marc frowns at them, untrusting, while his friends protectively shift closer to him. Clearly, from their baffled expressions, Bezzecchi and Bagnaia did not expect to see Marc huddled with Andrea Dovizioso and Jorge Lorenzo on the sofa.

Pecco is trying his hardest to comprehend the scene before him; he had not anticipated meeting the three retired riders alongside the brothers. He tilts his head slightly, examining the way Jorge and Dovi appear exasperated but pleased to have a clingy Marc Marquez sprawled on them. Marc himself looks pretty content at their proximity, which is strange; he didn’t think Marc was that close to either of them. Bez and he have clearly intruded, obvious from the disarray of everyone in the room. Marc has been crying, which is surprising in and of itself. Additionally, he appears to have taken some pretty strong painkillers – unsurprising after his crash but surprising after the most recent news reports. He turns towards Alex to voice this, but the younger Marquez beats him to it.

“He doesn’t need supervision these days, but if he is bad or, you know, unhappy, I keep his medication and watch over his dosing. He’s fine.”

Pecco nods in understanding, some of his concern lessening. An awkward kind of quiet falls over the group, no one knowing what to say. Strangely, Marc cannot guess the meaning for their visit, too used to other riders only turning up to pick a fight. Pecco is not one for dramatics, preferring to reign in his emotions, unlike his mentor and his friend. Marc breaks the silence first, curiosity beating pride.

“What are you here for, Bagnaia?”

That earns him a wry smile.

“I want to know if you’re okay.”

“Why do you care?”

The others tense in anticipation as Pecco visibly steals himself. He has found the last 24 hours difficult, fighting an internal battle of morality versus loyalty ever since the fateful press conference.

“I don’t hate you, Marc, and I don’t want to. Honestly, I think with time, maybe next year, we could be friends. I respect your talent, and yes, of course, sometimes I think you ride like a maniac, you take risks, and you are brutal on the track. But that is what makes you so good, so impressive. It is why you have 8 championships; I would be a fool to disregard that. Not only that but you love fiercely. I have seen the way you treat your friends and family, and I admire that.”

Marc thinks he might be dreaming; he pinches himself to be sure. Jorge notices and pushes his hand away with a scowl.

“Don’t lie. You all hate me because of him and his lies. I do not need you messing with my head as well. I see the way your academy copies him, echoing his venom, believing every word and taking his side. My life was hell back then, and you weren’t there to witness it. He ruined my life and tore everything from me. I know he thinks that I ruined his career and whatever other poison the man he calls a best friend fed him. I know he was angry and upset. But I was so young. It has been a decade. He won’t leave me alone. Don’t you understand? I raced to die; I risked it all in a passive attempt to not return to the pits. I just wanted him to look back at me; I wanted my hero to forgive me. Then after Jerez, when he didn’t even say anything and I gave up hope, I just took medication to cope. But Valentino and your precious academy can’t see that. No, instead I am reckless and selfish, only thinking of myself. It is not fair; none of it is fair.”

He feels Jorge tense underneath him and that revelation and knows that he has shared too much, but it is too late now. Pecco is observing him with sad eyes and Bezzecchi looks horrified.

“No, Marc, I do not hate you. I am sorry for the loathing you have felt. People like to push Valentino’s legacy onto me. We are not the same person. This is not my battle, and I refuse to be sucked into Vale’s fights from before I was even on the track. It is stupid.”

His eyes are glazed over and wet as he looks directly into Marc's. The anguish in them makes Marc flinch.

“My sister fought similar battles; it was the hardest time of my life.”

He meets Alex’s eyes, sharing a look of understanding at their joint hurt.

“I know you don’t believe me; I see that you have been hurt before. I hate that you have experienced such awful things, and I hate even more how you are being treated for it now. I am sure Alex feels how I do about Carola; it was the worst pain in the world. I would have given my life ten times over for her. It still hurts you and maybe it will always be raw, but I wish it was not like this.”

Bez lays a hand on Pecco’s shoulder, a show of silent support, prompting Marc to turn towards the youngest Italian.

“And you, Bezzecchi? I know you hate me; you have made that abundantly clear, so why are you here?”

Bez looks away at the accusation, guilt filling him. It is not in his nature to question someone he is loyal to.

“I- I realised I maybe took too much at face value. It is true that I did not like you, or more so the way you ride. But I also didn’t understand you or what you were going through. I guess that I want to make amends for that. And I did not want to leave Franci alone.”

Marc hums, considering Bez’s offer, before he nods, too exhausted and intoxicated to give it any more thought. Whatever, if Bezzecchi wants to be here, then fine, so long as he doesn’t cause any more pain. Rather, Marc returns his attention to Pecco with genuineness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry about your sister. It is difficult. I hope she’s in a better place now.”

Pecco’s eyes widen in shock, and Marc huffs out a laugh.

“She’s doing better now, thank you. I think you will get on with her well next year; she comes to all the races with me and the team.”

The Italian smiles tentatively, and Marc smiles back, quietly pleased about this admission from his future teammate. Bez glances between them with a frown, still unsure about the tentative truce they have formed. Instead, he turns towards Dovi, who is still eyeing him suspiciously, and shoots him his very best puppy eyes. The older man rolls his eyes at the display before roping Bez and Pecco into a conversation in rapid Italian about the season so far. Dani and Jorge are whispering quietly, the latter still petting Marc’s hair gently. The atmosphere has returned to its tranquil state, once more lulling Marc into a hazy headspace.

Concern is vibrating through Alex as he watches his brother doze. He can’t help but feel like this has all been a little bit too easy. The boys had looked flustered when they turned up, like they had hurried over, as if something had happened just beforehand. He tries to shake off the feeling, standing up and heading into the kitchenette. He grabs a protein bar from the cupboards and chucks it at Marc when he re-enters the main room, causing his brother to startle and glare at him. Dovi snickers at their antics; of course Alex had not forgotten about their previous scrap, much to Marc’s annoyance.

“Eat it.”

Marc scowls but dutifully rips open the packet and starts munching the bar, not before sticking his tongue out at his brother.

“So mature, Marc.”

This prompts a fit of giggles from the older as he continues to eat. Bez and Pecco look on in bewilderment at this version of Marc, the drugs making him more relaxed than they have ever seen. They are shuffling awkwardly as if they’d be kicked out at any minute, feeling a sensation of imposition at seeing the soft person in front of them. Marc rolls his eyes, looking strung out but content.

“Stay?”

And that settles it.

In all his stubborn glory, Marc refuses to move off his friends, citing comfort and fatigue as justifications. Alex grumbles good-naturedly about his perpetual clinginess on pain medication, prompting Marc to snuggle closer to Jorge, rubbing his face into the older man’s shoulder and startling a laugh out of him. Pecco looks at Dovi questioningly, his forehead furrowed into a frown, looking for any indication of jealousy in the older Italian but not detecting any. Jorge instantly notices and does not attempt to conceal his laughter laughter.

“Do not worry about it. Dovi hogs Marc the rest of the time; I am allowed him now whilst he is still high as a kite”

Marc pulls away to pout at him, denial on his lips. Before he can begin his argument, though, Alex speaks up, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Tell me about it; you should have seen them earlier. Dovi was practically eating Marc alive with his eyes; it was fucking ridiculous.”

Marc goes bright red at this comment, spluttering out an excuse. Dovi just looks unabashedly smug, meeting Alex’s eyes.

“Hey, when there’s an attractive shirtless man on the sofa when you enter the room, what else are you meant to do?”

Marc directs his glare towards Dovi, an unimpressed frown on his face at the betrayal, but frankly, with the medication softening him, he just looks cute. Dani and Jorge are cracking up at the thought, which only causes Marc to get more annoyed, his cheeks flaming hot.

“Ah, I did not know that you two-”

Both Dovi and Marc jump to correct that assumption. Stumbling over each other to assure Pecco that they are not dating, despite what it looks like. Dani has been suspiciously quiet for most of the conversation, only now turning towards Marc with an insolent smile, meaning that he’s about to say something that Marc won’t like.

“Didn’t stop you from fucking in the past.”

You could hear a pin drop. Alex is whipping his head between his brother and Dovi, his jaw dropped in shock. Marc somehow goes even redder before shoving his face into his hands and groaning, confirming Dani’s statement and prompting the entire group to lose it. Dovi just looks proud and completely unashamed, turning back to Jorge and Dani with a raised eyebrow.

“Like you two can talk.”

“Touché.” replies Jorge with a shrug, hand on Dani’s knee.

Alex feels like he’s losing grip on reality,

“When? When the hell did you two hook up?”

“Ah, 2017, 2018, on and off” answers Dovi.

The others are laughing hard now, even Bez and Pecco giggling at the horrified expression on the youngest Marquez’s face.

Alex speaks once more, recovering quickly as though he is clearly used to his brother’s antics. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice,

“Jesus Marc, what is it with you and shagging older men?”

Pecco chokes at that comment, wheezing a breath through the shock. The others are basically in tears and even Bez is grinning. Marc just looks at his brother’s smirking face and promptly lobs a pillow in his direction - it hits him in the face, causing Marc to crack up. When they all catch their breath, Pecco broaches something that has played on his mind all day.

“Valentino had mentioned something earlier, about you and Dovi-”

Pecco immediately realises his mistake in bringing up Vale. The room pauses awkwardly, and all eyes turn to Marc, whose eyes are still foggy, his limbs lose. It causes him to speak without thinking.

“Ah, he is being a dick; he saw me in Dovi’s jumper and jumped to conclusions. Lord knows why he cares.”

“When the fuck did you see Valentino?”

“Ah, just before the sprint race, he cornered me, spilling some bullshit about ruining the race and being attention-seeking. You know what he is like. He always has loved to make sure I feel small.”

He turns his doe eyes towards Alex,

“It still hurts to hear him say those things about me. It hurts to look into his eyes and see fury and hatred. Not as much as it did then, but still”

Pecco realises then just how out of it Marc must be to let that slip. He gulps, uncomfortable with the pain in his voice, pain that he would usually hide away from the world. Bez looks away. Watching tonight’s interactions brings some new perspective to the academy riders- the quiet beginnings of doubt about their unquestioned deity. It’s difficult to reconcile Vale, their selfless teacher and friend, to Valentino Rossi, who had a rivalry with Marc so fierce the younger had been left picking up the pieces. The Marc in front of them is not the dangerous, deceiving rider they were taught about. This Marc looks at his brother and friends like they hold the universe; he is strong but soft around the edges. He is funny and unabashed in his affection. He loves fiercely and is loved unconditionally in return, a true sign of his character.

Alex is looking at his brother with such sadness in his eyes, reflecting his pain. He does not respond to Marc; he just holds out his hand. It is Jorge who speaks instead.

“I was so angry at Valentino in 2015. So angry at myself for not warning you. I saw it coming from miles away because Rossi could never deal with threats to his success.”

Bez begins to open his mouth, but Pecco elbows him, hard, well aware that now is not the time to stick up for their mentor, no matter how difficult it is to hear. Jorge goes to continue but is interrupted by another forceful knock on the door; it’s Alex who yet again opens it, finding himself face to face with an uncomfortable-looking Luca. The night is getting weirder and weirder.

“Is Pecco here? Or Bez? Nobody knows where they’ve gone.”

Alex opens the door wider, letting Luca see the two Italians on the sofas.

Luca steps inside, shutting the door softly behind him after glances outside worriedly. He gives the boys a pointed looks as he urges them up.

“Come on, we need to go!”

“What why?”

Bez was just starting to feel comfortable in this company; he doesn’t particularly want to leave right now. Luca looks away,

“Look, we just really need to go.”

There is another harsh knock on the door before it flies open. Valentino is standing at the threshold, staring blankly at the spectacle before him.

“What the fuck is going on?”

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throneofrayllum · 5 months ago

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I Never Stopped - Part 2

A comfortable silence had fallen between Jinx and Ekko as he bandaged her wound. His confession kept replaying in her mind. Well, it wasn't exactly a confession, but Jinx knew what he was gonna say before he cut himself off. She loved him too, she had never stopped, but she was glad he hadn't actually let the words fall out of his mouth. She would have either started blubbering like a baby, or she would have been unable to stop herself from falling into his arms and kissing him senseless. Regardless, she was glad both situations were prevented. Ekko was probably married. Probably had his own family back home. Ekko having his own family would break her heart, but it would bring her joy nonetheless. He deserved love and happiness. It's all she wanted for him. "Your thinking." Jinx looked up when she heard Ekko's voice, he had finished with her hand and was putting the supplies in her bathroom cabinet. She smiled, "Is that a bad thing?" Ekko laughed, the sound intoxicating. "Depends, I never really know with yo-" He was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and her daughter bellowing, "I'm hooome!" Jinx shot up and yelled a quick, "Coming! Just give me one sec!" She turned to Ekko and whispered, "Just stay in here ok? She can brush her teeth in the kitchen so she doesn't see you." Jinx turned to walk out, but Ekko grabbed her wrist and stopped her. He looked at her with sympathy, rubbing comforting circles on her wrist as he said, "Jinx. I know you're worried, but you can't hide me in here. We don't have to tell her anything, but I need to go out there. I want to meet my daughter." Jinx inhaled sharply and nodded before walking out into the living room, Ekko following behind her. Despite how nervous she was, Jinx felt the weight of her situation fall off her shoulders when Felicity came into view. The sight of her daughter always managed to calm Jinx, no matter the situation. Felicity dropped her bag and ran up to Jinx, wrapping her arms around her moms waist. Jinx chuckled and kissed the top of Felicity's head, "Hey bug, how was your day?" Felicity smiled up at her mom, arms still wrapped around Jinx, "It was good. Aunt Lux helped me with homework and then we got dinner." Jinx smiled and ruffled her little girls hair before untangling herself from the embrace and gesturing to Ekko, "We have a guest! This is my friend Ekko." Jinx wrung her hands awkwardly, trying not to have a freak out at the sight of her kid in the same room as Ekko. After a few moments of awkward silence, Ekko came to Jinx's rescue. He walked up to Felicity and shook her hand, "Nice to meet you, Felicity. Your moms told me all about you." Felicity smiled and returned the gesture, Jinx laughed at the shocked look on Ekko's face when she shook his hand. For a little girl, Felicity had one hell of a strong handshake. "So, how do you know mom?" Jinx's head shot up at the question, she locked eyes with Ekko and shook her head. Apparently, he didn't gather that shaking her head and giving him a death stare meant 'don't tell her your from Zuan'. Ekko smiled and said, "I'm from Zuan, we were childhood friends." Felicity looked at her mom in disbelief, "What? You never told me about Ekko!" Jinx shrugged and gave her a crooked smile, "We stopped seeing each other around when we were like eleven, it must've slipped my mind." Jinx didn't miss the pained look on Ekko's face at her words, it took everything in her not to break down. Her answer seemed to be good enough for Felicity, because she turned back to Ekko and asked, "Are you gonna have a sleepover with us?!" Ekko winced and shook his head, "Uh, nah, I'm staying at the Inn on eighth street." Felicity let out a sound of disappointment and before she Jinx could stop herself , she blurted, "Stay!" Ekko look at her, eyes wide. Jinx bit her lip and crossed her arms around herself protectively, "If you want, that is. I'm sure you would like to get to know Felicity better." Ekko's eyes shined as he nodded and said, "I would love to stay."

After a quick Ice cream party in the kitchen where Felicity told her mom and Ekko all about her day, Jinx helped her get ready for bed tucked her in while Ekko was getting the couch ready. Jinx had insisted on sleeping on the couch so Ekko could have her bed, but he refused to take the bed. So chivalrous. She was about to turn off the lamp when a little hand wrapped around her arm and stopped her, "Mama, you look sad tonight", Felicity said as she snuggled closer to her pillow. Jinx sighed, "I am a little sad tonight, but don't worry about it. I'll be alright." Felicity furrowed her eyebrows and asked, "Do you miss Isha?" Jinx smiled sadly and sat down on the edge of the bed, "I always miss Isha, honey. But that's not why I'm sad tonight. It's adult stuff. Things you don't need to worry about." Her little girl nodded, "Love you, Mama." Jinx turned out the light and kissed Felicity's forehead, "Love you more."

#arcane #timebomb #jinx #ekko #Felicity (OC)#I almost cried writing the Isha part #I MISS BABY BLUE

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months ago

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All You Wanna Do: Brad Torrance x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @tinyhandsnation @ spooky-librarian-ghost @mimi-8793 @bryandechartisasmolbean

Companion piece to:

Six - Brad meets the love of his life on a studio lot.

You’re something else, something that Brad never envisioned stepping into his life. He feels that the moment he steps onto the sound stage for the screen adaption of SIX. They’re just beginning your number ‘All You Wanna Do’ and he has a front seat to the show as you stand there in a gown that’s fit for a queen.

The tenor of your voice, it’s captivating.

Crisp, real, raw.

It hits him straight in the chest as you break into the first verse. You play it a little fun, a little flirty, an inexperienced girl seduced by an older man. A naughty secret to be kept between the two of you.

He hears the hope in the chorus, the blush of first love before the melody chases into the second verse where it becomes something darker, something more forceful. The other dancers emulate it with hands that grasp your clothes, tugging just a little.

It’s enough to make every single muscle in Brad’s body coil as you hurtle into the third verse, the one about a marriage you didn’t want. The anguish, it’s palpable, it raises up in his chest as they surround you, gripping you until you shrug them off at the height of it all.

It’s the fourth verse that breaks his heart, because he knows how it ends, the inevitable conclusion.

It’s worse this time when the chorus hits, the other dancers they crowd you in, their hands grasping the tear away skirt, ripping it from your body leaving you in skin tight leggings and boots that look positively lethal.

Bite my lip and pull my hair as you tear me I’m the fairest of the fair.

The way you sing that line, it’s real, he knows it is because he remembers the list of Weinstein’s victims, he remembers your name on it.

It’s then he realises how alike you really are because you’re not the only one that challenges their agony into their performances, he does too. He knows how exhausted it can make you afterwards, how overwrought.

You’re emotionally wrung out when the number winds down, he can see it in you even though no one else seems to. Your poise is absolutely perfect as they un-mike you, but your smile doesn’t meet your eyes as they congratulate you before ushering you towards wardrobe.

Brad goes in search of the craft table because there’s only one thing that’s going to sooth over the way you’re feeling and that’s a cup of Yorkshire Tea.

When you step out of wardrobe you look like a completely different person. Your hair is loose, free flowing past your features so he can see the silver studs in your ears. You’re wearing a vintage ‘The Clash – London Calling’ t-shirt over a ripped pair of jeans and leopard print Vans.

He feels thunderstruck as he hands you the cardboard mug of tea.

“Here you go love.” He flusters before tucking his own hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I thought you might need this after a performance like that…”

He lets the words hand in the air and you know in that moment that he has very unique understanding of your situation.

“I don’t know how much company I’m gonna be tonight.” You tell him, your fingers toying with the paper tab dangling over the side of the cup.

“I thought you might need a little space.” Brad says before he withdraws his phone. “My driver will give you a ride back to your hotel when you’re ready.”

“What will you do?” You ask him, cradling the cup of tea against your chest.

“I’m gonna take a walk on the beach.” He tells you, tapping his fingertip against his temple. “It helps me settle when things get a little messy in here.”

“Oh.” You say, before you meet his gaze. “Can I come?”

“Yea.” He says softly. “Of course you bloody well can.”

Love Brad? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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#brad torrance #brad torrance x reader #911 show #911 abc #911 fanfic #911 #brad torrence #brad torrence x reader #callum blue

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aoioozora · 4 months ago

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Simon.

Part 16

Chapters Masterlist

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au Note: Happy New Year!!! I really enjoyed writing this part. I hope you'll enjoy reading it too. Also this series is coming to an end soon in most likely 2-3 chapters 🥺 But more on that later.

When Simon was about five years old, he and Tommy visited the army base where their father worked. While their mother excused herself to go to the restroom, she left the boys with Peter in his office.

“Boys, I have work to do, so I need you both to sit here and be quiet, do you understand?” Peter commanded as he laid his heavy hand on the backrest of the couch and then moved towards his desk, his shoes thumping loudly on the tiled floors.

“Yes, daddy,” the boys chorused in unison like soldiers under his command and promptly sat on the couch, Tommy with his toy truck and Simon with his stuffed shark.

Peter nodded approvingly and sat at his desk, beginning his work immediately. While Tommy busied himself with rolling his toy truck on the arm of the couch, Simon looked about the dull, imposing office. He wanted to know about the papers pinned on the cork boards, about whatever he stuck under the glass of his massive wooden desk, and what work his father was attending to.

He looked longingly with his big, innocent brown eyes, wanting to crawl onto his father's lap and watch him work and ask him his numerous questions. But he sank his head down, knowing his father would dismiss him with the words, “you’re too young. You won’t understand it.”

Even though there was the occasional rustle of leafing papers and the clacking of the computer keyboard, the silence was deafening. Simon could hear a high pitched buzz in the air, the one you hear in complete, utter silence. He felt his temples tighten. Glancing between Tommy and his father, he saw that neither of them noticed the buzzing.

Two knocks on the door echoed within the room, breaking the spell. Simon instantly pulled his little legs up and got on his knees, looking over the backrest and hoping his mother had come back to brighten up the room with her smiles.

“Come in,” resounded his father’s deep voice.

The door opened to reveal, alas, someone else. The man, dressed in a green field uniform, also looked just as grim as his father. As he stepped closer to the couch, he noticed the boys, and a small, eager, but tentative smile lifted the corners of his lips.

“Your sons, sir?” he asked. Simon shyly moved closer to Tommy.

“Yes, my sons. Thomas and Simon,” answered Peter, detached. He went straight to the point. “What’s the news?”

Simon listened to their conversation. He didn’t remember much of it, but he clearly remembered his father growing more and more agitated as the man spoke. His face was flushed red, brows furrowed, and his voice was deafening like a clap of thunder on a dismal, dark day. The boys were no stranger to seeing their father like this, particularly Simon, who was more-or-less the most mischievous of the two.

He didn’t remember what his father screamed about or slammed his table for, but he did remember feeling his tiny little heart being clenched, squeezed until it hurt, until it wrung out tears from his eyes and a whimper from his dry throat. He nudged his little head under Tommy’s arm, begging to be shielded, wishing that his mum would come back and cradle him in her arms and whisper comfort to him.

He watched his father fearfully after he dismissed the man, and saw how he pushed his chair away and lighted a cigarette. He took his even march towards the window and stood there smoking. Simon dared not to even croak, and neither did Tommy. Dad was sometimes a keg of dynamite, and even the slightest spark could make him explode.

This terror remained with him, and it resurfaced in his mind as he stood in front of the door to his father’s study. His hand hovered over the knob, trembling and hesitating. He didn’t even want to be in the same room as his father. The mere thought of it was suffocating. But it had to be done. Father’s orders.

He hastily put his hand down on the knob and opened the door. It opened with a soft creak, and Simon entered. His breath felt shallow upon seeing his father facing the large, open windows. Even the pleasant day outside didn’t ease his nerves. His father didn’t turn around to acknowledge him.

Simon wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. “You called, sir,” he spoke stiffly, as if he was a reporting lieutenant. He had many times addressed his father this way, out of coldness or fear or respect, or even a mingling of all three.

Peter finally turned around. A smoking cigarette was in his hand, fumes encircling him. Simon’s eyebrows raised slightly. If dad ever smoked, it meant that whatever was sifting in his mind was serious, of paramount importance. “What on earth”, he wondered, “does dad want to tell me?”

“Sit down, boy,” Peter commanded in a rumble that sounded like distant thunder, now turning around and pressing the tip onto his clean ashtray on the desk.

Simon obeyed, sitting down on the chair. His eyes followed his father as he paced slowly about the room. His grizzled brow was furrowed in thought, and he paused his pacing every so often to turn to his son with an earnest look in his eyes as if he wanted to say something difficult, but he turned away as soon as he did. Simon shifted in his seat, uncomfortably watching his father’s mental tussle.

Peter finally stopped his pacing and stood still behind the table. He looked at Simon directly.

“Your girlfriend,” his voice slightly rose in pitch and then lowered as he trailed off, “...She's a nice girl.”

“Yes, she is,” Simon answered, somewhat guarded.

“You've chosen well.”

Simon had to fight the urge to raise his eyebrows. Compliments from his father were rarer than a cow jumping over the moon, especially when it had anything to do with his choices. “I… Thank you,” he faltered slightly.

Peter paced around once more. He eyed the cigarette in the ashtray and his fingers twitched. Putting a hand on the backrest of his swivel chair, he squeezed it, still evidently struggling. Simon didn't dare make a sound.

“It's been an age since we last spoke like this.” He snatched the cigarette and lit it again, and Simon watched keenly as the fire burned the blackened edge once more, now engulfing it in glowing red embers. Peter took a long, greedy drag while he waited for his son to reply, but heard nothing. He asked, “When was the last time?”

Simon's head dipped slightly in shame, and his eyes left his father's face to look at the carpet. “I don't remember,” he lied, his hand instinctively rubbing his jaw on the left side, fingers brushing against his scar.

Peter's eyes narrowed slightly and he sighed out the smoke he drew in. “Well, it doesn't matter. It's in the past,” he said, his voice evidently turning more subdued like the soft breeze that blew in through the open windows.

Simon's jaw tensed slightly. This was unusual. His father knew he lied; he was expecting a stern lecture like he always did. But nothing. He couldn't tell if his father was actually being nice for once or if the tobacco was getting to his head.

But the words “it's in the past” repeated in his head like a broken record. Was this forgiveness? Was this his way of being apologetic? He didn't dare to even hope. Was he lying? No. His father was an upright man and would not compromise on his integrity even to his own detriment. He was not lying.

Peter took another drag, a shaky one. “I'm glad you came today, Simon,” he exhaled the words out along with the smoke, “I hope you come more often.”

Simon pursed his lips into a thin line and breathed in shakily, fighting to keep his chest from heaving. “Yes, sir,” he answered in a whisper.

“Dad,” the father corrected.

“Dad,” the son amended.

____ could not stop twiddling her thumbs and glancing at the hallway from the couch she sat on. Ever since Tommy informed her some thirty minutes ago that Simon was in the middle of a conversation with their dad, she couldn’t help but worry. Time seemed to drag on painfully slow, even slower when she kept watching the clock that ticked slower than her heart.

Tommy, seeing that she looked worried, tried to distract her with conversation. He told her about Emma and Emilia’s childhood antics, of them trying to climb up his legs like monkeys, and them cannonballing into pools. It worked for a time and made her laugh, although her worries still festered and churned in her stomach like she ate rotten food. She didn’t know where Peter’s study was and at every pause in Tommy’s stories, she tried to strain her ears towards the hallway to catch any snatches of conversation. Nothing could be heard of course, and she was forced to relent and give all her attention to Tommy.

Soon, the crack of the door knob from the hallway resounded, and ____’s head whipped upwards. Tommy’s chatter abruptly stopped. She saw Simon step out and then enter the living room, sighing heavily. His fair face was pale and somewhat confused, but there was evident relief and even a gleam of satisfaction in his dark eyes.

“What did dad talk to you about?” Tommy asked as casually as he could.

Simon inhaled, glancing at his girlfriend. “He… just told me he was glad to see me home. He asked me to come more often.”

Tommy’s face beamed and he gave his younger brother an affectionate clap on the back, also relieved. ____ couldn’t help but sigh and smile herself.

When it was time for the couple to leave, Eloise hugged them both tight, but she hugged ____ a hint tighter and whispered in a tremor, “Thank you for coming, my dear.”

As the two walked to Simon’s motorcycle, she smiled at him. “I had fun today.”

Simon smiled. “Me too.”

The split second she took to observe his face told her that the shadow of pain and stress that had always shaded his dark eyes seemed lifted, replaced with a certain vitality, joy, and disbelief. Though he didn’t show it entirely, she could tell.

Putting on their helmets, they got on the motorcycle and off they went. She had her arms held tight around Simon’s waist, and as they rode down the highway, she watched the sunset in the distance. The sky was clear and vast, and painted in a gentle gradient of rose and apricot. The fading sunlight gilded the grassy plains and rustling trees. The wind whistled against her helmet noisily, and the air was damp and cold, but with her arms around her boyfriend and with the breathtaking landscape set before her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was in a dream. She squeezed his waist involuntarily and leaned her helmeted head against his back.

She felt like the shadow over her own thoughts had lifted too. She didn’t think that hearing John out would give her so much relief. And now knowing that things were alright between Simon and his father, her relief was doubled. She squeezed Simon again and closed her eyes, enjoying his warmth, enjoying the happiness.

She felt a gentle touch on her knee, and upon looking, she found Simon’s hand resting there for a moment before returning to the handle. She smiled and blushed to herself, feeling flutters in her stomach.

“Are you hungry?!” Simon screamed over the rushing wind.

“No!” she screamed back. Her stomach and her heart were already full and bursting. She squeezed Simon again, and this time, he gave her hands a soft pat. It was warm, so utterly warm that she forgot how cold the air was. She was glad, so utterly glad that she didn’t bail on this appointment to go out with Alejandro.

Thirty minutes passed and the city was in sight, but so were the rain clouds hanging low over the buildings. Simon twisted the accelerator and the engine roared; at the increase of speed, the pillion rider felt like her body was yanked back and ready to fly off.

“Hold tight!” Simon yelled again, and she quickly put her arms around him and squeezed her eyes shut.

No sooner had they swept into the city streets, the showers began falling heavily and earnestly like a waterfall. Simon cursed under his breath. As if to make things worse, the street they were on was clogged with the traffic of people trying to get home from work. There was no space even to squeeze through the cars and slowly make their way up the long queue, and their only choice now was to wait the traffic out.

Sensing that it would be long, Simon killed the engine and then peeled off his leather jacket. “It’s really pissing it down. Here, wear this,” he said, holding the bunched up garment over his shoulder, “You’re getting wet.”

“What about you?” she asked reluctantly.

“I’m fine, darling. Just wear it. And be quick,” he urged, now reaching his hand behind and placing the jacket on her lap.

She quickly put it on and zipped it up all the way to the collar. The familiar scent of rainforest and chocolate, and the soft texture of the tartan lining made her feel warm again. But it was instantly replaced by pity for her boyfriend. The rain fell mercilessly, and the battering was deafening against the helmet; his coffee-coloured t-shirt darkened almost instantly and the weight of the wet fabric clung to his shoulders and his upper arms, softly defining the muscles underneath.

She felt the water dripping from the helmet drop into the crevices of the jacket and trickle down her warm collarbone to dampen her clothes. Even that made her shiver, but she couldn’t imagine how much colder Simon felt.

She leaned against his back. “Aren’t you cold, Simon?”

He leaned back against her chest. “No, I’m fine. I’ve gotten wet in the rain on rides a lot, so it’s no big deal,” he assured her, giving her knee a gentle squeeze.

“But still, I feel a little bad that you had to give up your jacket for me.” She pressed against him further regardless, wanting to share her warmth with him, no matter how little it was.

“Darling,” he shook his helmeted head, “I won’t sit back and watch my girlfriend get wet in the heavy rain when I can prevent it.” He gave her knee a light, chiding slap. “And besides, I know you get cold easily.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly. “How did you know that?”

“You remember the day we hung out together? The first time? There was a heavy rain before I came to pick you up, and when I came, you were wearing my jacket. You looked cold,” he explained, rubbing his thumb on her knee as his eyes darted at the traffic ahead to check for any sign of movement.

“I didn’t think you noticed.”

He looked at her. She met his dark eyes, and saw how the lights of the surrounding cars made them shine. A flutter tickled her stomach.

“Why wouldn’t I notice things about my own girlfriend?” he asked matter-of-factly, as if she said something silly.

She smiled sheepishly and blushed. “Of course. Why wouldn’t you?” Yet another characteristic to add to her male lead, Frederick’s personality.

The vehicles up front slowly began to move. Simon sat up straight and turned the key in the ignition, making the engine roar to life. He instantly swooped past the cars like a lizard at the first opportunity. He was pelted by the heavy rain, and combined with the speed he was going, his exposed arms felt like they were being pricked by huge needles. It stung, but he felt a manly pride for being able to protect his girlfriend from the elements.

Before long, he rolled into the indoor parking of the building he stayed in and smoothly parked in his allotted spot. Heavy sighs of relief followed as they got off the vehicle and took off their helmets.

“You okay?” he asked, straightening and stretching his sore back slightly, “You aren’t too wet, are you?”

“I should be asking that to you. You’re drenched!”

Simon looked at himself and pinched the front of his shirt, pulling the wet fabric slightly off his chest. He did feel a little icky having wet clothes sticking to his body and longed to get inside his apartment and peel it off. “One of us had to be, darling, and it wasn’t going to be you,” he pinched her nose. “But don’t fash yourself, it’s not a big deal. Some wet clothes aren’t going to kill me.”

That’s what he thought until he started sneezing repeatedly into his equally wet handkerchief as they entered the lift. She looked at him, all sopping wet and dripping like a towel that wasn’t wrung dry. She let out a heavy sigh.

“All that sneezing is going to kill you before the wet clothes do…”

End of Part 16.

Part 17 coming soon :)

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fiveredlights · 4 months ago

Text

extended author's note for The DAUD

ah The DAUD. what is there to say about The DAUD. first time i’ve fallen out of my chair whilst writing actually. had a great bruise on my thigh for a fortnight and my head hurt for a day and i did blame benjamin.

the many drafts of The DAUD

so originally The DAUD was just going to be the opening scene, straight to season launch, straight to the race and then the closing scene. which would’ve taken place at a mcdonald’s carpark mind you.

daniel was admittedly much less depressed, much less anxious, but as i got to writing i just couldn’t ignore everything to do with [Redacted Race & Team] and obviously benjamin’s presence forced my hand and i just couldn’t pretend that daniel was all happy smiley sunshine etc.

any reminders of f1, and i would feel another wave of grief hit me. it would happen again and again and again and all this grief and sadness would start to build up as anger and i don’t know where to place all the grief and sadness and anger.

i had a lot of cues to drive all these big things and honestly like 99.9% just came from the haha in daniel’s post. like. maybe the overarching thesis of this whole fic is how much can one four letter word ruin my life and the answer is A LOT!

the 0.01% is me feeling just so tired of f1 now. exhausted. wrung out. i hate change, and i know fear of it will not make it stop, but seeing everything and everyone move on so easily gutted my little heart out. i got so irrationally angry at the people who wanted daniel to do this, or that, etc because all that lingered in the background of my mind was the haha. if i devoted basically my whole life to a sport that turned on me and started hating me, i would devote myself to absolutely nothing for the rest of my life. which is maybe also why daniel really struggles with max’s presence.

to him, it is only time before max turns around and starts hating him, just like the sport did. difficult to devote, when all they do is leave.

weirdly i feel like this is some sort of spiritual successor of i’ll never leave (never mind) even though the max/daniel relationship are in two different places, but the daniel’s themselves are obviously similar. INLNM daniel ends the fic with hiding how he’s feeling, DAUD daniel starts the fic with him hiding how he’s feeling, until we slowly start to descend into the Snap Point.

one draft had actually social media bits in it but that was quickly abandoned after i realised my university kicked me out of the adobe plan (which is so rude considering how much money i pay them every year) and i didn’t want to do the text version because it would break immersion—i’d already introduced the wikipedia page the chapter before.

(but apparently i did write a text only version so that’ll be down there someone.)

benjamin (and julian)

here’s the thing. i have so many notes everywhere that express my bitter hatred towards benjamin. hated him. he was genuinely the most unwieldy character to write and i thought that about matthew. freudian slip.

i would say it wasn’t until the last week, until i wrote the scene where he reheats the food for max i was like wait. actually. maybe you aren’t so bad. then he left and i was like maybe i do miss you.

(then i wrote the epilogue and i didn’t miss him at all.)

benjamin was originally called jaxson, but once julian came into play, jaxson was changed into benjamin and the rest is history. julian’s identity actually wasn’t meant to be revealed in the fic at all, not until the epilogue but benjamin just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. benjamin is somehow the worst and best secret keeper ever.

my favourite scene does go to him though. when max stabs his salad in the exact same way benjamin did earlier. my little heart goes and falls off a cliff. so endeared by these silly little guys and their silly little traits.

daniel and the very unreliable narration

the thing is i don’t even know if they’re like dating by the end of it. they’re like 75% of the way there and the last 25% is just for them. if you asked max he would probably be like “yeah we’re together???” and if you asked daniel it would be “we’re working our way towards it” — but i think max knows that and they’re just taking it day by day. they have time.

i knew i wanted to write his depression and his anxiety in a very specific way aka the way i know because it is easier to write what you know but i did *try* to focus on the physicality of it? i’m wording this horribly, but honestly a little bit for my own emotional stability and sanity, i needed daniel to zone in on the physical aspects vs the emotional.

(look i was already opening a bag of worms writing about anxiety and depression—i too thought i had kept my own shit locked, loaded, thrown out the key, hashtag very good with everything, hashtag love and light, but with the amount of times i cried whilst writing this i’m not too sure.)

i actually don't know where i'm going with this. moving on.

random in universe lore drops

benjamin and julian drove for italian teams in f2/f3, julian for PREMA and benjamin for Trident. i don’t think julian’s with any driver academies right now, a free agent if you will.

there was a planned subplot where there was only two beds for three people because grace had stolen the third bed from daniel’s house for one of their relatives staying and never gave it back (there was no relative she was trying to reverse parent trap them)

this was deleted because they somehow ended up in one bed anyway. at this point i am 3 for 3 in max and daniel somehow ending up in one bed. okay i didn’t plan for it to happen it just happened!

when daniel and max have children, they have two twin girls name jemima and julianne :)

easter eggs

because it wouldn’t be a FRL-fic if i didn’t refer to my other children at least once!

the blue sweater max throws at daniel is the same blue sweater he stole/is wearing during their veranda-sunrise scene in glitter on the floor prequel -> daniel is wearing it this time during their balcony-night time scene :)

julian’s favourite cowboy song is cowboy like me, famously sung by takes one to know one daniel to max. not too much on CLM benjamin… do you KNOW how important that song is to max and daniel in that universe? (also originally they were throwing phones at each other before i cut it out because we gotta tone them down)

know in my heart i wanted the cats quentin and ziggy to either be gary and steve OR matthew and callan. gary and steve i could’ve probably got away with, but matthew and callan are just too blatant. but know deep in my heart i wanted it to be them.

the enchante collection daniel and max go through is very vaguely intended to be the Enchanté x MV33 collection from old habits, but obviously without the MV33.

the social media deleted bits

(originally LL was still in RB and benjamin was going to finish in P10. but i decided that even fictional RB doesn’t deserve anything good, so no points for you!)

Formula 1 F1 · 17 Feb

The wait is almost over for the biggest F1 launch event ever 🙌

F1 75 Live at The 02 is happening tomorrow! With livery reveals from all 10 teams, interviews with drivers and team principals, it’s an unmissable event 🤩

(Keep an eye out at the 2025 DAUD reveal… we heard it’s a big name 👀)

#F1 #F175Live

129 replies 482 reposts 8,291 likes

Visa Cash App Racing Bulls VisaCashAppRB · 17 Feb

1️⃣ MORE SLEEP 😴

Who else is ready to see our 2025 livery and meet our DAUD 🙋

[Photo: The car underneath a black sheet, the lights dimmed out.]

12 replies 11 reposts 328 likes

—

ric3stappen

place your bets on who the DAUD will be this year. i’m thinking alternate fernando finally found a way to bribe the FIA and we’ll finally get some like weird twin driver thing this year

#truly it’s what we deserve #what’s the point of using the DAUD program if you aren’t going to have any fun with it

392 notes

jeanie 🤠 COTADANIEL ·17 Feb

the funniest option ever would be another daniel being the DAUD

12 replies 19 reposts 282 likes

jeanie 🤠 COTADANIEL · 17 Feb

Replying to COTADANIEL

i say funny but i honestly might just start crying like i’m still not doing emotionally well

4 replies 0 reposts 98 likes

F175 Live at The 02 — 2025 F1 Season Launch

532K watching Started 55 min ago #F1…more

F1 10.8M

[00:55:33]

A lift below the stage rises to reveal the Racing Bull’s car, Yuki Tsunoda and Isack Hadjar. The car slides forward, as both drivers walk around waving at the crowd. The lift rises again to Benjamin walking out.

—

maxielupdates

am i hallucinating

38 notes

tris ☘️ THREETHREETHREE · 17 Feb

I’M SO SORRY DID YOU SAY RICCIARDO ?!

8 replies 58 reposts 283 likes

bigriccenergy

like daniel ricciardo… that ricciardo… what the fuck

#what in the DANIEL CURSE IS HAPPENING

128 notes

jeanie 🤠 COTADANIEL · 17 Feb

i have started crying for those keeping track i did mean it when i said i am emotionally unwell

2 replies 0 reposts 12 likes

—

[Photo: Benjamin standing in front of the car, with his arms crossed. 36 is his driver’s number.]

Liked by maxverstappen1 and others

visacashapprb You did hear that right, introducing the DAUD for the 2025 season is none other than Benjamin Ricciardo 👏