#listen I hate it when this happens in media so much

[greentrickster]

Number one worst reason to kill off a character in media:

They've completed their character arc/fulfilled their narrative purpose.

Second worse character to kill off a character in media:

To make a point/shock value.

Reason these are bad reasons to do so:

To begin with? It's extremely easy to make both ring extremely hollow, especially on the rewatch, and runs a high risk of feeling cheap. There's also the fact that, if you do this once it can feel jarring and out of place, but if you keep doing it then it risks numbing the readers/viewers to other characters and the overall story. After all, why get invested in a character who could die out of nowhere for no reason and with no narrative satisfaction?

Also, once a character is dead? That's it, no more, their story is generally over, meaning you have one less potential tool in your box for telling the remaining story, and it's always good to have a few cards up your sleeve for later use. Every character and setting is an opportunity, something that you've worked hard to create and get the viewers/readers invested in. Kill or destroy them, and that's the last bit of use to be had from that investment, and often a new character or setting will be needed to replace the one that's gone now, and that the viewer/reader will need to get invested in, and that will get harder to achieve each time it's done.

I'm not saying that no one should ever die in any story ever - that would obviously be bad writing advice. More, if a main/prominent character dies, then it should have weight. It should open new ways to view the characters who knew the one who died, how they interact with the world, possibly even the world itself if they were important enough in their setting. A nameless mook can be tossed aside with little thought, a character who's known fairly well but isn't a main protagonist or antagonist is generally quite good to use if you absolutely need to make a point or have an abrupt tone shift (though it should still be handled with care), but a main protagonist or antagonist, who's been around for an extended period? Unless there's been one heck of a build-up and/or has an extensive narrative pay-off? Leave that sucker alive. Put them in jail, send them off on a solo quest, stick 'em in a coma, heck, create a situation that's vague about whether or not they survived, you don't have to keep them in the story, just keep them in the setting.

And yes, of course there are the exceptions to this, where character death is frequent and anyone being vulnerable to it is the norm, but it's not something that can be supported by most stories or genres.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

I gotta say, a personal pet peeve of mine is when people get really into Scourge (making aus and fanart and fics and posts and whatnot) and go "OMG Scourge needs someone to be like his Tails" and then they either make a whole new oc or assume Fiona takes that spot

Miles Erasure

[blackvahana]

i am really never going to understand why people post "shifting antis dni" in the astral projection tag. "here practice that constantly gets appropriated by us and used as a weird justification for a new set of beliefs that aren't really based in the same reality you work with, and that also gets completely misunderstood by our community because we don't care to understand what you do and just pretend we know it's what we do like christians saying other religions worship the christian god, have a post! Also dni if you don't like our practice that has nothing to do with the one whose tag we just shoved this into"

if you're not astral projecting don't put shit in the ap tag. if you don't even know the difference between AP and RS I dont think your opinion holds enough weight to counter the pushback against flooding a separate practice's tag with "if you dont like the practice I'm talking about in your tags dni"

[neuromantis]

i want pop culture to shut up. every time i have to look something interesting up, i just get sucked into a rabbithole. also every time i want to look at news.

and the comments. oh my god the comments.

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start. 

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 

It drives Tyler insane. 

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 

Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!” 

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

[derealifies]

— HOW I UTILIZE THE GOD STATE FOR MANIFESTING

i use law of assumption for this (obviously) and it's easier than (some of) you might think

so in my own experience, i started with affirmations, like "i am the creator of my reality" or just simply "i am god" and use it interchangeably. embody yourself as the state that you want.

& i don't repeat excessively or in routine, only when i feel like it! this is especially important because well, if you're actually god, you wouldn't need to tell yourself that everyday.

and then there are times where you really realize how much your self-concept has improved. for me, it was as simple as seeing a beautiful butterfly and feeling proud/happy because i know it was under my creation. and most of all, i was content with my ability to manifest and my current reality, which i had already assumed as my dream life - which it is.

now for what i've manifested/received simply from embodying this state of consciousness:

- better mental health & confidence - i knew things were going to be okay, if not perfect, because i assumed it will.

- control over the state of the weather (i once manifested a strong ass storm bc i hated the summer 😭... welp)

- social media popularity (i only thought "oh how interesting would it be if i made this post and it blows up" & it happened in less than one day 🤷‍♀️)

- grades & natural intelligence => maths was one of my difficult subject and now i can do it sooo smoothly (my latest maths test got 91%)

- inducing pure consciousness easily. before this, i spent like 1-2h everyday trying to relax and get into the 'void state' for no reason, while listening to a bunch of different meditation guide and subliminals. that's not to say that you shouldn't do this, but i was overcomplicating it all. once i decided that i could just induce pure consciousness in like, a minute, it happened. it is *that* easy, so don't tell yourself otherwise.

- there's more that i will add in later posts if i remember.. anyway thank u for reading, happy manifesting lovies 💕

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨

TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming

(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)

Entrapment

A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?

~~~~

You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.

He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.

You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.

Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.

The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.

~~~~

The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.

Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.

Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.

Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?

It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.

It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.

“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.

“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?

No.

He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.

He just wouldn’t.

“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”

~~~~

Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?

Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.

It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.

In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.

But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.

Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.

~~~~

Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.

Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.

No more calculating.

No more cunning.

No more being methodic.

No more.

Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.

At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.

One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.

After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.

He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.

Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.

You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.

“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”

[computerpeople]

my life can be sectioned off into like fandom periods and i tend to be able to remember things more chronilogically because of that. no internet ballerina/webkinz only, deviantart user/furry fandom, mlp, homestuck, until dawn, danganronpa, overwatch, homestuck, and now i've cycled back into until dawn

[puckinghischier]

Dogtooth

jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding

summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator

notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[2.3k]

dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.

it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.

he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.

and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.

he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.

and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)

you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.

no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.

he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.

finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.

“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.

you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.

“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.

he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”

grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.

“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.

you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”

“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”

said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.

“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.

he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.

you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.

“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”

jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.

“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.

his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?

before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.

“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.

“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.

jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.

he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.

you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.

“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.

“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.

“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.

“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.

“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.

it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.

“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.

you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth. 

suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.

the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.

you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.

jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.

the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.

“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.

jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.

fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.

“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.

jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.

your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.

jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.

with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.

“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.

jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.

his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.

you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.

the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.

“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.

you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.

jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.

he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.

your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.

he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.

once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.

“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.

“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.

you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.

jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.

“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.

he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”

you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”

he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.

“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.

it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.

“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.

“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.

making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.

“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.

“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to you being bullied in the past/highschool

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

tw: this one holds a lot of mentions of verbal bullying and cyberbullying - it's something very close to home for me and this fic will be for anyone who has experienced the same thing. remember that you are strong and the harsh words don't define you! i love you and stay safe <33

he can feel his blood boiling the moment you comment on your past experiences with bullies. seungcheol prides himself to be a level-headed type of guy, but the thought of you getting hurt - even in the past - strikes a chord deep inside of him. he's thinking about buying a plane ticket to your hometown just to find those fuckers and bury them six feet under. however, he's mature enough to know that violence never solves anything, opting to show you even more love than before (if that's even possible) to remind you that you are worth everything in the world.

jeonghan's mind is already whirring overtime the moment he finds out about your past. using his scary, evil, mastermind brain for good this time, he can't help but envision decking the people who've hurt you. doesn't mind listening to you as you rant, knowing that you need a silent supporter by your side. will never tell you about how he sees red just thinking about your so-called "friends" who made you feel so horrible about yourself.

joshua can feel his heart crack with each name you tell him you've been called. takes the time to reassure you that you are none of those horrible things, that you're kind and beautiful and so so so smart. traces his finger across every scar and imperfection you've been bullied over, whispering how much he loves you. doesn't mind giving your bullies the nastiest side-eye the next time he sees them.

although he's doing his best to be present as you tell him about your past, jun is internally screaming at himself because you. are. crying. it's like he malfunctions every time it happens, hating how sad and scared you look. despite his panic, he's awfully calm when he comforts you, explaining to you that no, you are not weak because of this. in fact, you're much much stronger.

soonyoung's somehow found himself perched on top of a chair, his body steaming with anger, holding too much rage to sit still. you can tell he's struggling to hold back the foulest curse words, knowing that he should at least let you finish your rant. the moment you're done however, he's cursing them, their mother, their partner, anyone he can get his metaphorical hands on. it's okay baby. he'd tell you once he's calmed down. they're probably failing in life. but look at you! you're successful and beautiful and you're dating me!

wonwoo's asking you questions in a way that makes you fear for what he's about to do. what's their address? social media? social security number? you have to physically sit him down and remind him that the bullying happened years ago in highschool and that there was no point in trying to get revenge now. he's visibly deflated by the news, but decides to just dote on you even more to prove to you that their awful words were wrong. i'm no good with words, but i'll show you how fucking stupid they were to hurt you.

jihoon doesn't really know what to say when you tell him. he only thanks you for feeling brave enough to share such a painful part of you with him, feeling happy you trust him enough to do so. neither one of you revisits the topic: until one day, you see a suspicious amount of rageful revenge lyrics and comfort lyrics in seventeen's new releases. i guess we can credit the making of Hug to that instance.

minghao's glad he meditated last night because what you just told him would have definitely set him off without it. he doesn't hesitate to hold you, asking you if you need anything from him. i'm so proud of you for surviving all that, my love. they were obviously blind and didn't see your worth. and i'm sorry you thought they were your friends. he makes it clear that he's here for you, whenever you need to talk about it again.

seokmin more than upset when you're finished telling him everything- he's confused. he doesn't understand why anyone would want to hurt you, let alone say all those nasty things and pretend to be your friend. he apologizes for crying, trying to laugh it off by saying idk why i'm crying so hard, it didn't even happen to me but i'm the one sobbing like a baby. promises you that he's never leaving your side and you don't have to ever worry about him turning on you like your friends did in highschool.

all mingyu can think about as he listens is that he could have made it all better if he had just been there. he tells you while gently wiping away your tears that he would've traded places with you in an instant. i wish we'd met when we were younger, love. i would have fought them all back. but most of all, he wishes he was there to protect the younger you, knowing a child didn't deserve all that.

although you're doing a great job already, seungkwan can't help but join in on dissing your bullies and so-called "friends." he nods along enthusiastically every time you throw an insult, preferring always to laugh about it instead of cry. he's hyping you up, agreeing with everything you say as you recount your highschool days. yeah, no she sounds like a bitch. i bet he couldn't even read a chapter book. bro probably stank, you were safer without him. she's sounding like one of those insane kdrama rich ladies - and not the hot ones.

vernon's quietly listening, storing away every single piece of information for the next time you guys return to your hometown. he's already preparing his plethora of insults and backhanded digs, ready to show them a taste of their own medicine. he quietly tells you that he can relate - school had never been kind to him either - and he somehow spins all your shared trauma into something beautiful. we were meant to be, he says, cause you healed me, and now i can heal you. his words make you smile through the tears - and you fucking love him for that.

chan's at a loss for words once you're finished telling him everything. he's overwhelmed by the sheer amount of harsh words and sickening moments, knowing that if he felt this bad just hearing about it, he couldn't imagine how you felt going through it all. you're much braver than i would have been, is all he says after a pause. i love you. chan might be a man of few words, but he knows just what to say.

[radfemsiren]

Remembering my Afghani American best friend from my islamic elementary and middle school whose dad would get drunk every night and beat the shit out of her mother. She begged and begged for sleepovers because strangers in the house would make him leave, and I never told my parents about the situation (I lied and said she had no father or brothers) because I loved spending time at her house and staying up the whole night doing all the things we weren’t allowed to do that was “haram”… watching rated r movies, playing horror computer games, dancing to music videos on YouTube, cat walking in heels and makeup, scaring ourselves with creepypastas.

I remember we had a million stupid ass discussions about who the purple guy from five nights at Freddies was, or what a slenderman proxy meant, or if there were illuminati signs in Katy Perry music videos, or if emo drawings of Jeff the killer were hot. We’d whisper fight if Beyoncé or Lana del Rey was a better singer, or if teen wolf or maze runner had cuter boys. She was team Beyoncé and teen wolf.

We had to constantly be separated in school for talking, and we hated the creepy janitor and would throw wads of wet paper towel on the bathroom ceiling for him to clean up later. We got into so much trouble together, and would always smirk at each other in detention when we got yelled at. We’d shoplift lipsticks from the mall, and throw away expensive Quran transliterations from school, and sneak into the teachers break room and steal handfuls of ice and throw them on the imam/principal’s desk when he was gone to ruin his paperwork.

I moved away like I always had to do with my constantly migrating family and we lost touch. The last time I saw her in person was when we were still kids at her brothers wedding. I was laughing while I tried to ask her why the bride kept changing into different brightly colored dresses throughout the night. She wasn’t listening, and she burst into tears and cried about how her brother was just like her father and did every horrible thing he did. I held her and squeezed her so tight I thought her bones would break.

I recently tried to reconnect with her again but she’s already married, pregnant, and has abandoned social media and texting because it’s “haram.” Trying to talk to her was like speaking to a stranger… she had no interest in any of the things we would spend hours playing with before. “Islam is important to me now, I’m a new woman. We were messed up kids, it’s time to grow up.” She told me to never contact her again and hung up the phone.

Sometimes I feel like I failed her, and sometimes I understand that I was a girl trying to survive too.

One day I’ll save money to travel back there and talk to her in person. I’ll snap her out of it. We’ll spend all night up together again doing every terrible thing our teachers and parents and religious leaders warned us against, and laughing the whole way through it. We’ll get kicked out of bars and get into trouble and snicker our way through it all, knowing we’ve already won. I still have her dirty, worn, my littlest pet shop horse she gave me when we first met. I hold it in my hands when I see news of the what’s happening to the women of Afghanistan, and I feel like I’ve failed her again. That I’ll forever be stuck an immature child and her a miserable adult, both of us doomed, unable to be saved from our fates in the end.

[mywritersmind]

TELL ME IF YOU HATE ME - KA12

summary : kimi has a crush and a shit way of dealing with it, you think he hates you.

listen up : not proof read lolz! requests are open!!

word count : 1683

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The cars zoom past me as I press my finger down and a series of clicks sounds from my camera. I smile, holding my camera up and making sure I got the shot I wanted.

I did.

I see a flash of red by the garage which makes me breathe out, Ollie just crashed and I know it freaked him out. I put my eye to my camera again, zooming in so I can see if he’s okay.

He is.

I snap some far photos of the garages, passing Ferrari, then McLaren, and right as I'm about to skip over Mercedes, something catches my eye.

Lewis isn’t the one who gets out of his car, but a smaller boy with a mess of brown curls. He claps one of the pit crew members on the back and smiles. As he turns to face the track, I get a full view of his face.

Kimi Antonelli.

I had forgotten about the boy who’s driving with Mercedes next year. Ollie was talking my ear off about it last week but still… I guess I was so focused on shooting the cars that I didn’t realize who was in it.

I snap a photo of him, the light hitting his face perfectly as he takes a deep breath.

I’ve never met him, but I was forced to follow Prema by Ollie so I know he fits into Ollie’s odd life perfectly.

I walk back into the ferrari garage, smiling at my boss who takes my camera from me. I’m doing an internship, specifically with Ferrari's media team. Once they found out I like photography, they let me have a camera and media access.

I smile at Ollie who shoots me a thumbs up, letting me know he’s okay. I end up eating alone while scrolling on my phone, some people walk past but because free practice 2 is happened, most people are watching.

I take a bite of my salad and scroll once more. I get a weird feeling after my third bite, and when I look up, it’s the last thing I expect.

Kimis there.

He’s still in his race suit, his hair messy and a water bottle in his hand. His eyes get big when I turn to him. I’m about to raise my hand to wave but he spins around and bolts in the other direction.

I laugh out loud but when I look around, no one’s there to have seen it.

That was… weird.

⋆༺

“Hey, Y/n!” Ollie yells to me across the paddock, he’s standing with Kimi and Jack Doohan. I smile and wave, saying goodbye to who I was speaking with, and flipping my hair over my shoulder before making my way over to them.

“Hey! Happy Quali day!” I smile at them, especially Jack because I haven’t seen him all weekend.

“What are you up to today?” The australian asks me, his hands in his pockets.

“Taking pictures mostly, trying to get a bad one of Charles, and watching Quali. How about you guys?” I turn pointedly towards Ollie and Kimi but the Italian has his eyes pointed elsewhere and his mouth shut.

“Kimi and I.” Ollie grips Kimis shoulder and practically forces him to look at me, he smiles softly but looks back at Ollie as he talks, “are doing the same! Minus the photos and stuff. Wanna grab lunch with us later?”

I nod, pulling out my phone as I get a call, “Shit, i’m so late! See you guys later!”

⋆༺

Quali is fun and the Mexican fans are absolutely exhilarating. After getting caught up with photos, I finally met Ollie and Kimi in the Ferrari hospitality.

Except there’s no Kimi.

I raise a brow as we sit down, “Does Kimi not like me?”

Ollie moves his food around, “Uh… I don’t think so. Why?”

I shrug, “I just get the feeling he doesn’t really enjoy my company. Which hasn’t been much around him.”

Ollie frowns, “No! He just had to shoot something for Mercedes. He wanted to come.”

⋆༺

You know those times where you wish you could go back in time just five seconds? That’s how I feel right now.

“No!” I yell as Kimi turns the corner with four coffees in his hands and runs directly into me. “Fuck!” I back away from him, shaking off my hands instantly.

“Ah!” He does the same, looking up at me slowly, “I am so sorry…” This is the first time he speaks to me? Seriously!?

I take a breath, trying to gain control of my mind that’s screaming. I peel off my sweater, luckily my shirt underneath is untouched.

“I- Shit.” I groan and wipe my arms off with my sweater, “What are you, an errand boy!? I thought I was the one with an internship.” He laughs at this, then slaps his hand over his mouth.

“I’m genuinely so sorry.” He shakes his head, everything on me now smelling like coffee. I look at his shirt which is partly splashed.

“It’s not fine but It wasn’t on purpose.” I shrug, just staring down at the coffee cups.

“I’m such an idiot.” He groans, “Look, I’ll buy you a coffee to make it up to you.”

I smile slightly, crossing my arms, “Coffee in Ferrari hospitality is free. I’m assuming it’s the same for Mercedes.” He shakes his head, looking horrified.

“That shit is gross. I know a place.”

The ‘Place’ in question is in the general admission area. He pulls on my ferrari hat for extra security and grabs our coffees quickly.

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing red.” We walk the back way, laughing. Maybe he doesn’t hate me? Or maybe he does and the coffee was all apart of some scheme.

He side eyes me, “Neither can I.” He pulls it off of his head, “Toto would kill me.”

Ollie finds us the second we step foot in the paddock, “Hey! Don’t tell me you became friends without me! Do not forget that I started this!”

“Yeah ok, Ol- I’ll give you friendship creds.” I pat his shoulder as he frowns.

⋆༺

It’s dark by the time I head out of the paddock, yawning, I notice Kimi on his phone. “Hey!” I say, smiling as he looks up at me.

Except his face does that weird thing again.

His cheeks go red and he looks like he’s forcing a smile. “Hi.” He says softly.

“Good day?” He nods, looking back at his phone and clearing his throat.

“Yeah.” He keeps it quick before walking away, “Bye.”

“Bye…?” Okay. So I don’t think I'm going crazy now because that was one weird ass conversation. If you can even call it that.

⋆༺

I wake up on race day and do my morning ritual, scrolling on instagram. I don’t go through all of my notifications often, but today something caught my eye.

Liked by Kimi Antonelli

The post is laughable, it’s from two years ago, Ollie and I were celebrating our birthdays since they fall on the same day.

Weird, Again.

I get ready and head out even though that stupid like is on my mind the whole time.

As if the universe is sending a message, I walk into the paddock at the same time as Kimi. He’s talking to his team member in fast italian and I ignore the fact that it’s 100% hot and focus on the fact that he 100% ignored me!

I call Ollie immediately, “Your friend hates me.”

I hear him laugh on the other side of the phone, “Kimi?”

“See! You already know who I'm talking about!” I groan as I enter Ferrari hospitality.

“Y/n. I think you just make him nervous.”

I stop dead in my tracks, “What?”

“Look, I absolutely love you. But you have a total resting bitch face!” I scoff at him even though I know it’s true, “He sees you taking photos a lot and even though I try to get him to talk to you, he’s like scared or some shit. I think he thinks you’re pretty too.”

I hang up.

⋆༺

I watch from the garage, spirits are high but I find myself distracted as Kimis face comes up on the screen.

Why is he so cute?

I bite my lip and think. I want him to like me. I want him to be friends with me like how he is with Ollie! So why can’t he see that? I mean, there’s a possibility he just doesn’t like me.

In that case, that’s fine! I just want to know.

My thoughts are how I find myself cornering him with my arms crossed and my actual bitch face on.

“Um… yes?” He looks scared.

“Do you not like me, or something?” He frowns, “I mean- If you don’t, that’s fine! But I don’t fuck with people who aren’t honest. Because I know i’m not completely likable to everyone and genuinely I don’t care if you don’t like me but I sorta hope you do because Ollie is my friend and Ollie is your friend and he wants us to be friends!” I take a breath.

Kimi just blinks, “I do like you.”

I roll my eyes.

“I just… felt embarrassed.” I raise a brow. Embarrassed? “I dumped coffee on you! And then I liked that post which had Ollie telling me to stop screaming into my pillow.” I laugh at that. “I just… I'm not good with pretty girls.”

That has me frozen.

“And you’re like scary pretty.”

I laugh, smiling, “You’re totally boosting my ego right now.” He just called me pretty.

He rolls his eyes, standing up straighter, “I’m sorry for being awkward.”

I sigh dramatically, “It’s fine.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, smirking, “My good looks just stuns people sometimes-”

He pushes my shoulder, “Oh fuck off!” I laugh with him, his cheeks red again, “Can I make it up to you?”

I bite my lip, hiding my smile, “Pick me up at 8.”

[spliffymae]

rapper!onyankopon.

just some head canons i have.

in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.

but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.

rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.

rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!

rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.

“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”

“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.

rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?

no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.

ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.

rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.

there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.

he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!

rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.

rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.

“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.

rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.

“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.

“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.

“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.

“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.

meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.

so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.

but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.

“ONY!!!”

[fastandcarlos]

Dating A-Z Headcanon : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

A ⇴ AFFECTION 

Oscar isn’t overly affectionate, but he does like to have you close. Quite often he can be found holding onto your hand or to your waist to make sure that you’re by his side and where he can make sure that you’re safe. 

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 

You first met when you were in school, having been paired together for a project. At the start of it you were both too terrified to even say anything to each other, but as you got to know each other more you found yourselves increasingly comfortable around one another, so much so that you even managed to come top of your class for your presentation together. 

C ⇴ CONFESSION 

When his career began to take off, Oscar knew that he couldn’t deny his feelings for you any longer. As he spent less time at home, and with you, he decided to tell you how he felt so you knew that he was thinking of you even when he wasn’t with you. One night before he went away for a race Oscar decided to tell you everything, opening up to you about exactly how happy you made him feel. 

D ⇴ DATES 

Most of the time your dates were quite private, Oscar wasn’t exactly the flashy type, especially when there were plenty of people around. He liked to keep your dates quite simple, usually you would go out for a nice meal or Oscar would arrange for you to do something at home together. He promised whenever he was home that he would organise at least one date for you both before he had to go away again so that he could make sure that you got to spend some quality time together and make some new memories. 

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 

You were the only ever person that Oscar had dated, and so he quite often felt like he was learning on the job. You and Oscar knew each other incredibly well and so Oscar didn’t really tend to worry that he was doing the wrong thing. At times he would ask other people around him for some tips and advice when he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, but you and Oscar were close and so if he felt as if he was doing something wrong, usually he’d open up to you and learn about what it was that you wanted from him instead. 

F ⇴ FIGHTING 

An argument between you guys is rare, you’ve got a good understanding of each other and know when to stop before things run away. Neither of you were particularly loud or argumentative at the best of times and so it was a pretty rare thing to happen. When an argument did happen, Oscar would get pretty cut up about it, he hated the idea that he had upset you and would work hard to make things up to you, particularly if he knew that he was the one at fault for your argument. 

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 

His family absolutely adored you; you were a tad nervous to meet his family, particularly with his three younger siblings, but they absolutely adored you. Above all else, you loved making fun of him with his mum, particularly on social media where all of Oscar’s fans could get behind the two of you as well. 

H ⇴ HOME 

Wherever Oscar went, you went, when it came to home. When he originally considered moving out to Monaco he spoke to you about it a lot, wanting to make sure that it was something you wanted to do as well. When you gave him the greenlight, Oscar started to look at making the move, relieved to know you’d be going together. 

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

He was the first one to say those three words after a race win. It was one that Oscar had fought particularly hard for and found himself overwhelmed at the end of it. As adrenaline ran through his body, the moment Oscar reunited with you those words came tumbling out before he even had a chance to realise what he was saying to you. 

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

It was quite rare for Oscar to get jealous; he was pretty relaxed and chill about most things and trusted you more than he trusted anyone. If he ever did get jealous, then Oscar would get a little bit more protective around you, he’d stand a little closer and make sure that he was listening to what people were saying to you. He’d never admit it, but you could tell from the look in his eyes sometimes that Oscar was feeling a little envious. 

K ⇴ KIDS 

Having a family was something that you both knew was quite a way off, but that didn’t stop you from talking about it from time to time. Oscar especially knew that you were the person that he was going to settle down with and spend his future with, although he still had plenty that he wanted to achieve when it came to his career before he even started thinking about all those other things in life. 

L ⇴ LAUGHTER 

If there was one sound that Oscar never got bored of hearing, it was definitely your laughter. His deadpan sense of humour could leave you in stitches sometimes with how nonchalant Oscar was about things. He didn’t even mean to make you laugh most of the time, but with his dry jokes and blunt comments you couldn’t help but chuckle around him. Oscar loved knowing that he was the reason for the smile on your face, even if he didn’t realise that he was the reason for it sometimes. 

M ⇴ MISSING 

He tried his best to hide it well, he didn’t like upsetting you by telling you just how much he missed you. But Oscar did miss you. Terribly. He was a different person in the paddock when you weren’t around, he was quieter than usual and would be a bit more distant in meetings, something that Lando picked up on quite a lot during their race weekends together.  He was constantly wishing that you were there with him, checking his phone all the time to see if he had a text or a missed call from you.  

N ⇴ NICKNAMES 

He didn’t have one particular nickname for you, Oscar would just call you whatever came to mind, usually choosing a nickname that he knew would annoy you as he loved being able to wind you up. 

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

Oscar was obsessed with your smile, it made him feel like he was home. His heart raced whenever he saw your wide grin, knowing you were happy was the most important thing to him. 

P ⇴ PDA 

The two of you weren’t huge on PDA, however everyone knew that the two of you were together from the little gestures that you shared. Oscar tended to hold your hand and keep you by his side, particularly when you were entering a busy area, wanting to keep you by his side and out of harm. 

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

He asked you for your advice on just about anything, Oscar would ask you for help whenever something was playing on his mind, knowing that you usually had the right answer to help him out. 

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

One thing that no one knew about Oscar was that in the bottom of his race car he had a picture of you. It was positioned so that no one else could see it aside from him, but when he needed a bit of a boost or to see a reminder of you, Oscar would glance down at it. He’d made sure to pick one of his favourite photos of you so that he could remember why he raced, particularly when he was missing you. 

S ⇴ SEX 

He liked to take control when it came to sex, Oscar wasn’t particularly rough, but he was the more dominant out of the two of you. It meant a lot to Oscar, he made sure that each time was special and filled with a lot of love. He quite liked being able to show you how much he loved you, words weren’t particularly a strong skill of Oscar’s and so he loved being able to show you with actions instead. 

T ⇴ TEXTS 

Whenever he could Oscar would text you, especially when he wasn’t at home. He loved receiving your updates and hearing from you, mostly so that he knew that you were safe without him around. 

U ⇴ UNIVERSE 

He didn’t like to make it too well known, but Oscar’s little bubble knew exactly just how much you meant to him, you were his priority and by far the most important person in his life. 

V ⇴ VACATION 

Whenever he had a bit of time Oscar loved to arrange trips for the two of you so that you could escape for a while. Adventuring with you was by far one of Oscar’s favourite things to do, although he saw much of the world, there were always more hidden gems around for you to see too. 

W ⇴ WHINING 

Although he wasn’t particularly needy, when Oscar wanted your attention, he would kick up quite the fuss to make sure that you knew all about it. 

X ⇴ XXXXX 

He loved kissing you when you least expected it, creeping up on you and pressing a kiss to your cheek or against the top of your head. He wasn’t the biggest kisser in the world and so Oscar knew that when he did kiss you it would usually come as a surprise. He didn’t like to just kiss you, he loved kissing you with sentiment and love, knowing that his kisses would often leave you feeling nervous with adrenaline. 

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were his team mate, the two of you were the perfect duo together. 

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

When he falls asleep, Oscar loves to hold onto you. His grip is as tight as possible wanting to keep you warm and make sure that you’re right by his side and not going anywhere. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[wisecura]

'Hate' Is A Strong Word

Izuku Midoriya x f!reader 5k

summary: for some reason, you've never liked Izuku Midoriya. call it bad vibes, a deep seated irritation, or just plain off-putting, you two just never connected. and even now as pro heroes you haven't uttered a single word to each other since high school. yet, you find yourself badly injured at his doorstep.

warnings: might be repetitive, gaslighting, manipulation, non-canon, dark fic, some blood, belittling, confinement, please don't read if you are sensitive to bad things happening to reader,

an: I haven't kept up with this fandom much but I still enjoy it. i've been busy with work and school. sadly, not fully proofread, but thank you for reading

You never quite took to Izuku Midoriya, even from the start. 

There was something about him. A nagging feeling that buzzed in the back of your mind whenever he was near.

He was the kind of guy everyone liked—or at least, no one dared to openly dislike. Shy, awkward, but undeniably kind, Izuku was the sort who'd go out of his way to help a stranger. Always pushing for justice, always the hero in waiting, the kind of well-rounded individual you'd expect to be universally admired. 

And yet, something about him set off alarms in your gut from the very first day you met. It was your first year in high school, you'd arrived at UA high, thrilled to be accepted into the hero course.

This is when you saw him.

He'd been introducing himself to other classmates, nothing different from the norm. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when they caught yours. The way he shyly moved over to greet you. Maybe it was the way he seemed to interrogate question you on your quirk, and from your understanding he kept tabs on everyone. It could've been the way his eyes seemed to trail you when you evaded his conversation, feeling odd at the line of questioning. You had no idea why every instinct tell you to keep your distance.

You did attempt friendship in those early years, especially when you noticed how easily he drew people in. Once all was settled in, he seemed to be a magnet, attracting the class in with his friendliness. Maybe that initial encounter had been a fluke? You thought that just maybe you were being overly dramatic—after all, Izuku was the epitome of harmlessness, always eager to lend a hand. No one else seemed to have an issue with him, even with his more...odd habits.

But despite your efforts, you just couldn't shake it off. Those creepy vibes you got. So you chalked it up to not meshing well. But you always watched from a distance, and continued your years making friends and overall enjoying the coursework.

Years passed, and both of you rose through the ranks to become pro heroes. 

Izuku, now known universally as Deku, consistently ranked in the top five—a celebrity in the world of pro heroes. Meanwhile, you held a respectable nineteenth place, not one for popularity races, and never quite as concerned with fame as you were with making tangible changes in the world. Not that he wasn't doing his part-

Deku was a household name, his exploits and acts of heroism the stuff of daily newsfeeds. The latest articles highlighted not just his achievements but his physical transformation too—he was now a striking 6’1", his features having matured into what many would consider handsome, listing out other measurements you hadn’t bothered to read about.

Yet, reading about him, seeing his photos splashed across the media, always stirred an inexplicable twist in your stomach. You had no logical reason to feel this way, yet the discomfort was undeniable. You still didn't like the dude.

Your interactions had been minimal since high school, limited to brief exchanges during professional gatherings. You weren’t friends, not really. But he was always friends of a friend with you. It was always weird to hear about him, and you tried to never ask-to never listen in when your friends talked about him.

And, now, as you scrolled through your phone, one hand pressed against your bleeding side, the irony of the situation didn't escape you.

This part of town was supposed to be safe, but here you were. Far from home and in trouble, late at night.

You needed to find somewhere to go—someone to plug this shit up. Your manager had recently updated your contacts with a list of “reliable partners” for emergencies—pretty handy timing, considering the mess you were in now. All listed with safe houses should you need it—your managers words echoing in the back of your mind: 'you'd better not be seen by anyone from the public'.

You had been on a secret mission, something big, something not everyone could handle. But your quirk was a perfect fit—or so you thought until things went south.

The leader of the crime ring turned out to be a lot tougher than the brief said, and instead of nabbing him quietly, you got roughed up pretty bad.

Glancing at your phone, the recommended safe locations popped up. And just your luck—it had to be him.

You frowned at the screen—thumb brushing down the refresh button desperately, but no other options seemed to be loading. There had to be someone else, but why wasn’t the stupid app showing anything?

Of course. Of-fucking-course. Whatever, beggars can’t be choosers, right?

Better not to bleed out on the pavement. You were sure your manager would kill you if this wound up in the newspapers.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed through the pain, straightening up as best you could. You tried to walk confidently into the lobby of a ridiculously upscale apartment building. It was way fancier than necessary, making you feel all the more out of place.

You barely reached the counter when the man behind it did a double-take. “Miss—““—I’m here to see Izuku Midoriya, please,” you cut him off before he could delve into questions you had no energy to answer.

He looked surprised for a moment, then turned his back to you to make the call. You could hear his hushed tones, and an even softer voice through the other end of the intercom. You couldn't make out what they were saying—maybe it was the blood loss affecting your concentration.

“Top floor, Miss—““—Thanks.” You turn away quickly, unable to keep a slight wobble from your steps. You hadn’t meant to be rude. You just really needed to sit down. 

You were a vision of resilience and grace as you press the elevator button, smearing the elevator door button in your own blood. The ride up feels like a century, each ding reminding you of the ticking clock against your injuries. You had time to turn back. To not face whatever was beyond the elevator doors. Did he open his home as a safe location often? What were you thinking—this was Deku—of course he did—

As the doors finally open, you're met with the minimalist, yet luxurious hallway leading to the penthouse suite—his suite.

It's been years since you've last even spoke to Izuku Midoriya, and now, under these circumstances, you're about to see him again.

Funny how fate plays its cruel games, huh?

Stepping out, you hesitate for just a moment before your survival instincts push you forward. Your fist meets the door, the knock more feeble than you intended. It's only a matter of seconds before the door swings open, revealing Izuku Midoriya in person.

He's taller, broader, and his eyes—those damn eyes—haven't changed a bit. He's definitely lost that baby face, his features much more defined, almost handsome. The sight of him makes your heart race for reasons you can't even begin to pin down before that deep voice reaches your ears.

"Shit, you look like hell," wide eyed, he blurts out. "What happened?"

You try to muster a smile, but all you manage is a grimace. "Got into a bit of trouble. Mind if I come in? Kinda bleeding out here," you quip, half-joking, but entirely serious.

He doesn't hesitate, grabbing your arm, gently but firmly, as he helps you inside. "Of course, come in. What are friends for?" he says, though you both know the term 'friends' might be a stretch, you sure as hell weren't gonna comment on it now.

Oddly enough, he doesn't press you for more details, instead guiding you to the sofa. "Let me look at that wound," he says, already moving to fetch a first aid kit and a towel. You feel somewhat guilty at your thoughts as you watch him, his movements efficient and practiced. What if you bled out onto his couch? And now that'll be the first thing on his mind when he sees it? what're you even thinking?

How often has he done this? You mind briefly flashes back to a news report you'd seen recently, of him saving a group of people from a hostage situation turned deadly. And despite your reservations about him, you can't help but feel a reluctant admiration stirring within you. That and this. He really wasn't a bad dude. Maybe a bit awkward, but who wasn't?

You raise your shirt slightly, exposing the expanse of your stomach, an audible sigh from him before his hands find their way to clean the area, surprisingly gentle.

It's a strange intimacy, one you make damn sure to ignore. In other situations you may have blushed, leading with a 'buy me drinks first' joke but you really didn't want to add to the moment.

"Do I want to ask how the other guy looks?" Izuku teases lightly, a break from his jaw tensing, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite yourself, a laugh escapes—bitter but genuine.

"Yeah, I may have gotten the short end here," you reply, meeting his gaze. There’s a warmth there that wasn’t present in your school days, a maturity that seems to fit him well. It annoys you, seeing how much he's grown into himself, into the hero everyone expected him to be. Was it jealousy? No, that couldn’t be it.

Sitting there, letting Izuku tend to your wounds, you can’t help but feel a twist in your stomach that’s not from the injury. It’s from the sheer absurdity of the situation—seeking help from someone you’ve always distrusted, yet here he is, proving to be the hero he always aimed to be. Not asking for anything in return, always helpful, always willing.

And, yes, that bugged the shit out of you. You were wrong.

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" His eyes flick back over to you, stilling your breath. He lets out another sigh, unwrapping the bandage from his kit.

"The Gokudo Group, right?" You look away, refusing to meet his heavy gaze. He didn't seem entirely happy with the direction of the conversation—

"How do you know about that?" The question sounded silly the second it left your mouth. A top pro hero knowing about a mission so close to his residence? It'd be stranger if he hadn't heard about it. He lets out another soft chuckle, and you feel yourself blush at the way it seemed to lick up your spine.

"Let's call it a guess." As he finishes bandaging your wound, his touch lingers a moment on your side, reminding you of his closeness.

"You should rest," he suggests, his voice soft, almost nonchalant. He seems to see no issue with the idea. A man. A woman. Alone in a pent house sweet. "Stay here tonight. It's late, and you're not in any condition to go anywhere."

You want to protest, to assert your independence, but the room tilts slightly as you try to sit up straighter, his grip tightening on your waist as you let out a small painful whimper. He doesn’t seem too put off by the idea of you staying, and realistically, blood loss was indeed a bitch.

"I guess...I don't have much choice," the words tasting sour on your tongue. For a fleeting moment, Izuku's seems like he wants to say something, fighting with his inner voice, before settling on something else.

"...Of course, you're always welcome here," he assures you, his tone dripping with a sincerity that feels too thick, too heavy. He stands, pressing a button on the wall to adjust the blinds, casting the room into a dim glow. He stands illuminated in a warm glow by the lamp in the corner. Your heart continues its gymnastics, flipping in ways you can't fucking believe.

"Let me get you some water, maybe something for the pain." As he disappears into the kitchen, you try to relax against the plush cushions of his sofa, feeling much more guilty at the thoughts you'd had not even thirty minute prior. This wasn't how you imagined your evening would end, and his kindness seemed to eat away at you by the second.

Your gaze drifts around the neatly kept space, landing on small, personal touches that seem innocuously domestic. Photographs of smiling faces, trophies from his hero work, books on strategy and quirk development. It's all so…Midoriya.

When he returns, he hands you a glass of water and a pill, his smile reassuring. "This will help with the pain," he says, and you take the small tablet from him, your fingers brushing against his, the contact somewhat nerve-wracking.

"Thanks," you whisper, downing the medicine without a second thought. He watched you closely for a second, another thought on the tip of his tongue before he decides to just sit down next to you. Not close enough to warrant a side glance, but close enough that you can smell his smooth cologne, a soothing fragrance that lingers in the back of your throat. A smell that was distinct, unforgettable.

"You know," hesitating, "...I always...hoped we'd get a chance to catch up," his voice a soft murmur blending into the backdrop of the city's faint sounds filtering through the window. You would've sworn he hadn't said anything if it wasn't for your good hearing. "...I've followed your career, you know. You're doing amazing things."

His words sound like a compliment, but you can't help but think: just how closely has he been watching me? The tension in the room was so fucking awkward....

And the comment was innocent enough, so you push the feeling aside, chalking it up to paranoia. He's being nice. He's being nice.

You literally have no reason to doubt him.

Whatever. You can't shake that nag, you're fighting with yourself just to lean into the small comfort he provided, but that itch keeps coming back the more he talks. Just keep your distance, like always, and make your exit in the morning before he wakes up. Maybe send a fruit basket when you get back home as a parting 'thank you' gift.

"Yeah, well, we've both been busy, I guess," He watches you a moment, his expression unreadable before offering a gentle smile. You let out a small yawn, scooting further into the couch. Further away from his spreading legs, hoping to convey your sleepiness.

"Very busy," he agrees, as he stands to grab a blanket from a nearby closet. Thankful for the space, you breath a sigh of relief. You jump when he comes back, yet his voice is gentle, and his movements are tender, almost loving, as he drapes the blanket over you.

You notice his hands tremble slightly—a nervous energy you remember all too well from your high school days. He's nervous. And it sets you on edge even more, despite the fact that he couldn't be more welcoming to you in this moment—a pillar of comfort and support. The blanket he brought was so fuzzy and warm. Your favorite color too.

"Looks like we finally get that catch-up session, huh?" he chuckles easily. You half-expected him to retreat to his room once you were settled, but here he was, still the same Midoriya, despite looking so incredibly different. Never fully catching that hint. You manage a weary smile, feeling the weight of your eyelids, barely still able to converse.

"Yeah, it's been a while. Life as a pro hero doesn't exactly leave much free time for reunions," Izuku nods enthusiastically, sliding a bit closer to you on the sofa until you can feel the warmth radiating from his leg just inches away. You subtly scoot away, maintaining a polite distance, his eyes wide, as he enthusiastically regals your most recent mission.

"That rescue mission form last week was just spectacular, the way you dove right in, you were just perfect, and those people you saved--" He stops himself, realizing he was about to go into a whirlwind. He lets out a nervous laugh, "Sorry,"

But you give him the best smile you can muster up with the gaping wound in your side. And subtly, almost unconsciously, his leg inches even closer to yours, again. You try to dismiss it, reminding yourself of how he always a little closer with his friends—maybe this is just another subconscious thing he did?

"Thanks, Midoriya. You’ve not done too badly yourself," you reply, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of humor. "Top five, right? I always knew you’d shoot up."

He absorbs your compliment, his face lighting up from the small bit of praise you've given him. His gaze narrows in, almost studying you, as if he’s trying to memorize your every expression.

When he speaks again, there's a hint of shyness in his voice, a subtle clinginess that feels slightly misplaced. "You know, I always thought maybe we’d end up working together, you know? Side by side." His voice dips a bit at the end, his eyes are earnest, almost pleading, as they search yours for a reaction.

"That’s...a....nice thought," deliberately avoiding his gaze, though the idea of being this close to him in any capacity would be too much, too soon.

Izuku’s expression momentarily falters, resembling a dejected puppy, and he quickly tries to mask his disappointment, shifting his demeanor to regain some of his earlier lightness. “But hey, we’re here now, right? Maybe it’s fate or something,” he jokes weakly, forcing another lighthearted laugh.

The word 'fate' hangs between you, heavy and foreboding. “Maybe,” you echo, not quite sharing in his forced cheer. The conversation pauses, leaving you acutely aware of the rapid beating of your own heart in the silence that follows.

"Yeah–heh–it’s been quite the journey," he admits, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "But....enough about me. Tell me about you. How have things been...really?"

You shift under the blanket, feeling a bit unnerved by his continued presence. Why didn't he just go to bed? You hadn't even talked much about him in the first place. Was he fishing for something?

"Busy, eventful, and endlessly tiring," you answer truthfully, hoping your frankness might send a subtle hint, topping it off with another yawn.

He nods, mouth quirking up in a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "I can imagine. It must be hard, always being on the move—never able to find time for yourself, never able to catch up. Always the playing the 'hero'."

The way he says 'hero'—with a trace of something like displeasure—makes you pause, almost surprised. "...Well, someone's gotta do it, right?"

"Right, right," Izuku agrees, though his voice trails off, leaving a lingering question in the air. He seems to gather his thoughts, his eyes meeting yours.

"You know, I've always wondered..." his tone shifts slightly, becoming more contemplative, "why we never got along better. I mean, we were always in the same circles, kind of."

You feel a slight tightening in your chest as the topic veers dangerously close to the unease you've always felt around him. "Yeah, I guess we just had different…interests," you hedge, trying to keep the conversation light and steer away from deeper waters that you’d prefer not to navigate.

How exactly could you explain to him that you found him incredibly fucking creepy until now? And even now.....

Izuku's response is slow, thoughtful. "Maybe,"

He concedes, his tone reflecting a tinge of dissatisfaction, voice more probing and less subtle than you've ever heard it before. "But I've always respected you, you know? Always thought highly of your abilities."

"Thanks, Midoriya. That means a lot," you reply, not sure how to respond, not used to the praises from someone like him.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I've always wanted to be...closer. To understand you better. I felt like we never really got the chance."

His words hang in the air, and you're hit by the raw honesty in his voice—an honesty that's bordering on confrontation or confession—you aren't sure. You scramble for a diplomatic response, your mind racing. You didn't want to upset him here, but you sure as hell weren't looking to become best buds.

"Midoriya, it’s not that we didn't get a chance. We just...didn’t.....vibe that way. It happens."

"But why?" His frustration is more evident this time, his voice tense, losing that more playful tone. "I’ve seen how you are with others—laughing, sharing. I just don't get why I never got that side of you."

"It’s nothing personal, Midoriya. I’ve always been more introverted....Maybe our timing was just....off or something."

But he just can't seem to let this go. He's always liked you, but you've always seemed to avoid him. He's never been able to figure it out.

"...I mean, it's not like I haven't tried, right?" he starts again, his tone becoming harsher, a drastic shift from his usual soft charisma. His fingers tap rhythmically against his knee, a clear sign of his restlessness. "I always asked about you, you know. Whenever I ran into someone who knew you, I made sure to find out how you were doing." The revelation sends a chill down your spine.

This could have been sweet—checking in on a friend—but his words sound creepier, like he was stalking you or something, and his intense gaze makes you recoil slightly.

"I just...I've always liked you. A lot, actually," he continues, his tone bordering on accusatory. "And I don't think you ever noticed. Or maybe you did and just didn't care."

"That’s…that's a lot to take in," you respond cautiously, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Yeah, well, it's been a lot for me too, watching from the sidelines. Always the hero everyone loves, except for the one person I actually wanted to impress," his voice rising slightly with frustration.

He continues rambling, each sentence more unsettling than the last. "I've kept tabs on you. I know it might sound weird, but I had to know. I thought if I knew more about what you liked, what you did, maybe I could find a way to be part of that." His confession sends a cold shiver down your spine.

"Isn't that just ridiculous?" he laughs, the sound hollow—bitter, filling the increasingly claustrophobic room. His eyes become distant and slightly frantic. He couldn’t stop himself.

"Midoriya, I think you’re reading too much into this—” you start, trying to defuse the tension, but he cuts you off. "No, I don't think so. I think you've always known how I felt. And you used it against me. Kept me at arm's length on purpose," he accuses, his voice turning harsh.

Witnessing Izuku transform from the awkward, 'lovable' hero you once knew into this intense, confirmed everything that nagged in the back of your head before. An anger issue? Ego problems?

"Everyone else always sees the best in me. Why couldn’t you? What made you so different?" he demands, his voice laden with a toxic mix of longing and bitterness. Finding yourself speechless, the situation spirals beyond your control. "Midoriya, please, this isn’t healthy. We should—”

"Healthy?" scoffing. "What do you know about healthy? You've barely even looked at me all these years. And now, you show up only when you need something? That's a bit contradictory, don't you think?"

The realization that you are alone with him, caught in this escalating situation, keeps you mind spiraling into a semi state of panic. Your sense heighted—fight or flight.

"You know, it's always been more than just platonic for me," his gaze cutting through the dimly lit room, locking onto you with an unsettling earnestness. He too close, too close, "I've cared about you in ways I probably shouldn't have. And I've waited...waited for you to see that."

"Midoriya, maybe we can talk about this tomorrow? It's been a long day, and I really think I should head home and rest," you suggest, reaching for your phone to call an Uber.

"You said you'd stay the night," he reminds you, snatching the phone quickly from your hands. "Are you really going to go back on your word now? After I've opened my home to you, treated your wounds?"

Caught off guard by his overt pushiness and blatant aggression, you stammer, "Hey—Midoriya, I didn't mean—"

"No, you never mean to, do you?" he cuts in, his tone increasingly harsh. "You come here, into my home, ask for my help, reject my friendship—once again, and now you want to leave just like that? It’s always the same with you. You take what you need and then you're gone."

"That's not fair, Midoriya. I appreciate everything you've done tonight, but I'm really not feeling well, and this conversation is a lot to process," you explain, trying to maintain your composure under his scrutinizing gaze.

Izuku's tone shifts, blending accusation with a hint of hurt, his face morphing into that lovable sad expression he wore on occasion. Much like a kicked puppy. "That isn't right. I thought you were a good person. I'm just trying to understand your problem with me. What's wrong with that?"

You take a deep breath, trying to center yourself amidst the emotional whirlwind he's creating. "Midoriya, trying to understand each other isn't the problem," you begin cautiously, "but the way you're going about it—it's overwhelming. It feels like you're not just asking for understanding—you're demanding a specific response from me, one that I'm not prepared to give."

His brow furrows, and his stance becomes defensive. "So, you're saying I'm overwhelming you? I'm some evil guy? Me? A top pro hero? After all these years of keeping my distance, the moment I try to be honest about my feelings, I'm suddenly too much?"

"No, that's not what I mean, Midoriya—please—"

Izuku’s question slices through the tense air, unexpected and jarring. “Do you have a boyfriend?” His tone holds an edge of possessiveness that makes you uneasy. The query, seemingly out of nowhere, is clearly aimed at gauging your 'availability'—challenging it.

“No, but that’s not the point,” but Izuku scoots in closer, his larger frame hovering over your laid back one. Yes, he was much bigger than he was in high school. And yes his broad shoulders stood out 3 inches past your own. You couldn't stop your panicked breathing, the situation too unbelievable.

As Izuku inches closer, his large frame overshadows you, physically cornering you against the back of the sofa. The space feels oppressively small, his presence suffocating. His voice carries a chilling mix of sweetness and venom that you've never heard before, unsettlingly different from the hero you thought you knew.

“So, let’s get this straight....again.,” you avoid his gaze, near impossible from how close he is, “You’ve never had time for me, always brushed off my attempts to be close, and now here you are, in my home, accepting my help after all these years. And you think you can just leave after that, like nothing happened?”

You feel a bit embarrassed when he puts it like that.

“Izuku, I just came here because I needed help, I never meant to—”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? You needed help, and I was convenient for you,” he cuts you off, his voice soft but laced with a sharp edge. “Isn’t it funny how after all these years of avoiding me, suddenly I’m the one you run to when you’re vulnerable? Does that seem fair to you?”

“I’ve always cared about you, more than you know,” his voice lowering to a whisper. “I’ve watched you from afar, always hoping you’d look back. But you didn’t. And now here you are, finally seeing me, but only because you need something. Don’t you owe it to me to stay? After everything?”

His question hangs heavily in the air, charged with expectations you never consented to. Flustered and trying to maintain some sense of normalcy, you start to respond. “I-I’m sorry, Midoriya—”“—Izuku. Please, after all this time, don't you think you could call me by my first name? It’s like you’re still trying to keep me at arm’s length, even now,” The hurt very clear in his voice.

As you struggle to find the right words, trying to navigate the complex emotional minefield he specifically laid out, his next action catches you completely off guard. Without waiting for your consent, he suddenly shoots up, his arms scooping you up in a princess-style carry, far too easily, but expected from a bulky pro hero. The suddenness leaves you flabbergasted and flushing bright red.

"I-Izuku," you stammer, your voice tinged with shock and a hint of protest. "Ah, much better," he responds with a pleased smile. The smile he gives you is something else—wide and triumphant, as he carries you to another room.

The large room he brings you into is softly lit, the bed neatly made. You noticed a vanity on the side wall, feminine products lining the small shelf—eerily similar to the products you have in your cabinet at home. The room was set to your exact style, items you had at home—in your online wish list—were all here.

He sets you down gently on the bed, and the reality of the situation sinks in deeper. He observes you for a moment, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth, as if amused by your discomfort. As if he's observing a cute puppy, learning to walk on its own.

"Time for bed. I'll be back tomorrow." He turns to leave, and you reach out for him. "Izuku, wait—" voice laden with a plea for some semblance of normalcy—some answer to the questions you refused to voice, the room you were actively refusing to acknowledge.

"What's wrong?" he interjects with a grin, his tone cooing, demeaning, belittling. "You’re not going to ask me to tuck you in or stay the night, are you?" You could hear the underlying challenge. The jest sent to provoke something from you. "No, that’s not—I just think we need to talk about tonight," You're voice stead, yet you're on the brink of tears, the fear creeping up the back of your neck. A pro hero, a pro hero, he's a pro hero—

Izuku's face hardens at your words, his posture stiffening as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Talk? We’ve been talking all night. You said you wanted rest right?" he retorts defensively. "You’re safe here, aren’t you? I’m taking care of you, after all. What’s there to complain about?"

You know something isn’t right, but his aggressive pushback and the veiled mockery in his tone make you second-guess your instincts to speak up.

"Yeah, I...Thank you...Izuku," you find yourself saying, the words heavy on your tongue. The unease churns in your stomach, but the mean look in his eyes silences the protests forming in your mind. You lie back on the bed, covering yourself quickly, still in your street attire.

Izuku nods, seemingly satisfied with your subdued response. "See? That’s better. Just relax, I’ve got everything under control," he says, his tone soothing yet laced with a possessiveness that doesn’t escape you.

As he turns off the light and exits the room, leaving you in the dim glow of the nightlight, you're left to grapple with the unsettling blend of guilt and apprehension, too nervous now to challenge the dynamic he’s forcefully set.

Would you be allowed to leave tomorrow?

come home

[bbydoll18xx]

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

When Paige falls apart, you are there to pick up the pieces.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Based on this request

Masterlist

Word Count: 1k

Themes: fluff and comfort !

A/N: this request was so cute!! As an eldest daughter and a nurse, it's ingrained in me to be a caregiver, and I show my love through acts of service so this was so fun to write. Hope you lovelies enjoy!

~

Paige had always prided herself on being a tough girl. It was ingrained into her soul to be a leader, and even more so, it was ingrained into her to take care of everyone around her. So when you had started dating her, you immediately were treated to the princess treatment.

As an eldest daughter yourself, you had appreciated someone taking care of you for once, but you knew the effects of having too much on your plate. It was draining, and so you had vowed to help Paige hold up the weight of her world. 

You were always there. 

You baked her cookies when you knew she was having a rough day. You were always there to listen when she was feeling the pressure from the rest of the team. And your kisses were basically magic, bringing life back into the blonde.

~

You hum to yourself as you walk through the door of Paige’s apartment, unable to deny the bubbling giddiness in your chest at the thought of seeing your girlfriend. 

You had been dating for two years, and while the two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, the overwhelming excitement of her had yet to fade. 

Slipping through the door, you creep through the apartment on light feet, trying to avoid foiling your surprise. Paige wasn’t expecting you, and with the craziness of the basketball season now in full swing and your own work and school schedule, you hadn’t seen her in several days. 

It fucking sucked, but that was life, and now you had cleverly hatched a plan to sneak into Paige’s room during her beloved afternoon nap time and surprise her with your presence. 

A sound cuts through the quiet apartment and a pang cuts through your chest. Paige was sobbing behind the closed door of her room. It shatters your heart, and you gasp, frozen in place for a second, trying to decide whether you should go comfort her or leave her be. 

Paige was a strong girl. She loved protecting her friends and teammates. And she was no doubt an exceptional leader. So when she had her moments of weakness and vulnerability, she hated others to see it. 

You were really the only exception. Your warmth and nurturing disposition coaxed her out of the protective shell she had used to shield herself from the coldness of the media and the unyielding bitterness of those who doubted her. 

Biting your lip, you quietly knock on the door, your voice gentle, as you call out to her. “Paige, baby? Can I come in?”

You hear her sniffle, quickly trying to clear the thick tearfulness out of her own voice.

“I need you,” is all she says. 

Your heart drops into your stomach, and the overwhelming need to just make everything better consumes you, and you pull open the door to quickly get to your girlfriend. 

Paige is laying in her bed, and you can clearly see the tear stains below her red-rimmed eyes, clouding the clear blueness of them. Your eyes flit to see Twitter open on her iPad, and you connect the dots. 

She had gotten sucked into the hate comments again, and it was getting to her. 

Anger and concern rushes through your veins, but you take a deep breath. Now was not the time to lose your own shit. You had a pretty girl in front of you who needed you to make her feel better. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

“Oh, baby. What happened?” You whisper, sitting on the bed next to her and soothingly stroking her cheek, brushing away the tears that remained. 

Paige sniffles, leaning into your touch, as if it provided all the comfort that she needed. “Had a bad practice. And then I saw a hate tweet. Just spiraled from there.” Her voice cracks, and the tears in her eyes pool again, threatening to overflow. 

With your free hand, you pull the iPad away from her, trying to make sure she can’t subject herself to the disgusting stream of vitriol spewing from it. You lay down next to her, pulling her into your chest, letting her melt into you. The tension seeps out of her, as she cuddles into your side, welcoming your presence. 

Stroking her hair, you whisper sweet words of encouragement and love into her ear, and it’s not long before her sniffles come to a grinding halt.

Paige lets out a quiet breath and sits up, facing you. She looks sheepish, as if she’s embarrassed by her emotions. 

“Sorry you had to see that,” she chuckles, trying to make a joke out of it. 

“Hey,” you say, bringing a hand to rest against the smooth skin of her face. “You don’t have to apologize for getting upset over something like that. I’m your girlfriend. I want to be able to make you feel better.” You poke her in the belly as you emphasize your point, and she grins. 

And while you were not the one who was necessarily hurting in those moments, seeing the person you loved most, break down in tears over people’s vile words, broke you, too.

But Paige’s smile was like sunshine on the grayest day. And things were going to be alright. 

Paige reaches out to entwine her fingers with yours, making a mental note of how perfectly they fit together. Her eyes move from your gentle fingers up to your eyes, seeing how bright they shined when looking back into hers. 

And when you later fall asleep, curled up in Paige’s comforting warmth, your girlfriend fights the sleep out of her own eyes, preferring to admire the innocence and goodness seeping out of your being. 

You were two girls born having to provide for everyone around you, who found a home in each other, taking on the weight together. 

Because sometimes you just can't make it on your own. 

And that's okay.

~

Woo this took forever and i kinda hate this but thank you for reading! My inbox is always open for more requests!

xoxo katy