#maybe this is what people mean when they say first mate in that he steps up to watch the others backs more often. but it also implies

[marauder-misprint]

I LOVED the ”You were important” fic that you wrote and I know that that it was only published a couple hours ago but I NEED to know if there is going to be a part 2

And if there isn’t then I’m begging you for one were reader maybe goes out with Sirius and his friends for the first time or something. Please I’m desperate 😭😩❤️

I can practically guarantee you this isn't as good as 'You Were Important' but it is what it is! and honestly, I think everyone but Sirius is nervous/unsure about the Hogsmeade visit.

Also, receiving this request literally a few hours after posting made my day ♥︎

Hogsmeade

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

2.7k words

cw: one use of y/n, fluff, swearing 

To say that Sirius’ friends were hesitant about you was the understatement of the century. They knew you had a big part in helping Sirius slowly reconnect with Regulus and they knew you were childhood friends. But to be dating? That was a step beyond their comprehension.

“So she yells at you, you have some miraculous conversation and now you’re dating?” Peter asked incredulously. “I’m sorry, mate. I don’t see it.”

“You went from not speaking for years to dating pretty quickly,” James added. 

“There’s a lot about her that you don’t know,” Sirius said.

“When you apologized to her last term, did you actually beg?” Remus mused, already knowing the answer but trying to help Peter and James along. 

“Yes.”

James choked on his pumpkin juice. “You begged? Like on your knees, begging?”

“In the library. You can ask Reg if you don’t believe me. He walked in on it.”

“How come none of us got to witness that?” James asked with a pout. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Remus said.

“Because you didn’t need to be there. It’s hard enough putting my dignity on the line, I didn’t need you lot witnessing it.”

“Okay so if you were on your knees for her,” Peter paused to give the group a suggestive look, “then maybe it’s more believable that she likes your sorry arse.”

“I don’t know why I need to convince you that we’re actually dating… But I did write to her all of break.”

“I thought you were writing Regulus?” James asked.

“Is there a limit on how many people I can write? I wrote to them both.”

“What’s so special about her anyways?” Peter asks, stabbing his fork into the fruit on his plate. “Besides the insane ability of forgiveness.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “At the risk of being called a sap, I’ll keep it brief. She’s perfect. Perfectly flawed. Knows how to handle the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. What else do I need?” 

“Handling you and your brother is certainly a special quality,” Remus snorted.

“So was there like something hot about her when she exploded last term?” James asked. “Because I think we were all a little scared of a random ass Slytherin being furious at you.”

“Oh shut it.”

“And we are taking that as a yes,” Peter confirmed with a nod. 

“I’ll give you something you can take, Wormtail,” Sirius warned. 

“Calm down, Pads,” Remus said. “Let us get used to Y/N and the effects she has on you. It’s new to us. Since you kept us in the dark ‘bout her for six years.”

“That number is going to be the death of me…”

Your friends, minus Regulus, were just as confused.

“You know, when we asked if there was something going on between you and Black, we meant Regulus,” Dorcas said. 

“And the only thing going on between me and Reg is friendship.”

“But you and Sirius? You’re serious?” Pandora asked.

“Yes, Dory, I’m dating Sirius.” 

“But why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“You’ve never once mentioned liking him. Before last term, you never mentioned him as anything other than Reg’s brother.” 

“Because he said we weren’t friends. Keep up. Pretty sure I told you this.”

“You did. Six years radio silence to dating is a jump, sweetheart.”

“He’s taken big steps since we reconnected.”

“Maybe so. I’m just saying, you are the queen of forgiveness.”

“He knows he’s walking a thin line,” Regulus said, deciding to join the conversation.

“You! You’re okay with this?”

“I encouraged they get close again,” he said. “Did they get closer than I intended? Maybe. But once you get over the initial shock, it makes sense.”

“How so?”

He looked from Dorcas to you and back again. “They practically grew up together. And then when he fucked up, she went and befriended me. There’s something about being a Black that attracts her.”

“It’s the trauma,” you said with a teasing lilt in your voice.

“If that was the case, you’d be dating me.”

“I’m afraid you’ve solidified your place as absolute bestie for the restie a while ago.”

Regulus stared at you for what felt like an entire minute.

“Whatever the fuck that means…”

---

Sirius approaches you after class, as he usually did. You took your time putting your things into your bag while he would shove everything into his own as fast as he could. 

“You doing anything Saturday?” he asks, resting his hip against your desk. 

“Sleep in? Maybe Hogsmeade with the girls if they wait up for me.”

“What if you ditch the girls and come with us?”

“Us? As in the Marauders?”

He nods. 

“Am I ready for a proper introduction to them?”

After you throw your bag over your shoulder, Sirius places his arm around your waist and guides you to the door. 

“I think so. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“I guess… Do they know you’re inviting me?”

“No.”

“What will they think? I haven’t talked to any of them since I yelled at you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, love. I’ve talked to them about you. Plus, once they get to know you, they’ll love you. I know I do.”

You snort. “Yeah? You love me?”

He looks down at you with a crooked smile. Neither of you had the exact words “I love you” but you hadn’t been dating all that long. It still hung in the air between you though. If you had to talk about it with anyone, you would say when you know, you know. Having Sirius back in your life was like being able to breathe again after having your head held underwater. 

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius places a kiss on your cheek. It makes you giggle. He knew it would. He knows he loves you. It hit him as hard as it had hit him that he missed you during those six years. You had a way of making him feel seen that even having the eyes of the entire Hogwarts castle couldn’t raise a candle to. You saw him and he loved you for it. 

“So, Hogsmeade? Yes, no, you’d rather snog me in the Gryffindor Common Room…” His voice trails off as he looks down at you with a smirk on his face. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you tease.

“You’ll come to Hogsmeade, then? Yeah?”

You sigh. You know it’s inevitable. You have to meet and hang out with his friends at some point. You couldn’t avoid them forever, as appealing as that sounds, if you want this to work with Sirius. 

“Yes, I’ll do Hogsmeade. But you’re paying for my butterbeers.”

He laughs. “As if I wouldn’t do that anyways.”

---

You get up far too early for your liking on Saturday. Sirius insists that you will be spending all day with the boys in Hogsmeade and he’s fairly certain that by the end of the night, you will be telling him you wished the day had lasted longer. You’re not as sure of that as he is, but you’re willing to humor him. It would be good to get to know his friends, at least a little bit. 

You feel awkward as you head to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall rather than Slytherin. At least you didn’t have to deal with teasing from Pandora and Dorcas this morning; they were still tucked into bed, where you’d much rather be. Still, you feel eyes on you. 

“Good morning, lovely!” Sirius chirps as soon as he spots you within earshot. 

You give him a nervous smile. The full of Marauder nonsense was weighing on any optimism you might’ve had. You take the spot next to Sirius, obviously saved for you. The other boys are quiet, although you don’t blame them. 

“Morning everyone,” you say. 

They mumble responses. Remus looks half asleep as he sips his morning tea, Peter is zoned out as he stares at his plate, and James is shoveling eggs into his mouth. You assume he would’ve given you a better response if his mouth hadn’t been full. 

“Whose idea was it to go so early?” Remus mumbles, putting his cup down and giving you a polite smile.

You look from boy to boy before laying eyes on Sirius.

“You. You did this,” you say accusingly, pointing your finger at him.

“Maybe.”

You forcefully rest your forehead on his shoulder with a groan. 

“I thought you weren’t a morning person.”

“He’s not,” Remus answers for him with a knowing look in his eyes that you don’t see. 

“Sorry that I’m excited,” Sirius says. “Just the first time all my favorite people are going to be together.”

“Second,” Peter says, barely loud enough to be heard. 

“Second?” Sirius repeats. 

“He’s, uh, counting the yelling, I think,” James says after swallowing. “You know, last term.”

You lift your head from Sirius’ shoulder and you know your face is red. The yelling. 

“I promise I don’t yell all the time,” you say softly. 

They all laugh in one way or another. Sirius has his full body laugh while Remus has more of a chuckle. You swear you see Peter clench his jaw as James barks out a short laugh. You’re certain this is going to be a long, painfully awkward and embarrassing day. Sirius starts putting food on the plate in front of you and nudges the cup closer to you.

“Eat up.”

“I can make my own plate,” you tell him firmly.

“But you weren’t.”

You roll your eyes but start to eat the food he’s grabbed for you. The boys are mostly quiet while you eat. Sirius forces some conversation. He’s adamant that something will spark. He just needs someone to bite, someone to start talking besides him, and then conversation will flow more easily. It had to. 

It does, finally, as you leave the Great Hall and begin the short trek to Hogsmeade. The boys discuss everywhere they need to go today. 

“You’re not going to make us get lunch at Puddifoot’s or anything, right?” Peter asks tentatively, as if already hating your answer.

You laugh loudly, making the boys in front of you look over their shoulders.

“Godric, no!” Their faces relax. “Not every girl loves lace and all that frill.”

“Oh, I had just assumed…” Peter’s voice trails off. 

“Doesn’t everyone know the saying?” you ask.

“What saying?” James asks.

“When you assume, you make ass of you and me.”

You walk up and throw an arm around Peter. 

You hiss in his ear, “Don’t go making an ass of me. I don’t care what you make of yourself.”

Peter blushes furiously as you remove your arm and laugh. 

“I fully assumed we be spending time in Honeydukes and Zonko’s and maybe Pippin’s or something before finishing the day at the Broomsticks. Is that not normal?” you ask, walking backwards at the front of the group. 

Sirius was beaming at you, clearly enjoying how suddenly comfortable you became. Apparently you just needed someone to get the wrong read on you. Then you point at James.

“Spintwitches? Regulus was talking about this new broom-”

“Polish? They got in the new broom polish?” 

You nod and James picks up his pace, easily passing you so you turn around to walk normally.

“Well, come on, you lot!” he calls. “I need some before they run out!”

“I highly doubt that they are going to run out, Prongs!” Sirius yells at him as he resumes his spot at your side. “Now is this so bad,” he whispers to you.

You roll your eyes but give him a wide smile. Maybe his friends weren’t so bad. They just had to see you as something other than a pathetic girl or the angry girl who nearly screamed at Sirius about his brother. 

You were right about their plans for the day, though. After Spintwitches, the group heads to Honeydukes to restock on sweets that you would have to carry around all day. Next was Zonko’s. The boys flitted around the shot like hummingbirds, never looking at a stand for too long but practically guaranteed to return. When the shopkeeper told them their total, you choked on the licorice wand you were snacking on. The boys give you a strange look while Sirius hits your back and makes sure you’re okay.

“Dear Merlin, do you always spend that much in there?” you ask as you exit the store and head to the main square. 

“Yes?” James answers. “Is it a lot?”

You snort a laugh.

“Prongs, you know it is. There’s a reason you and Padfoot pick up the bill every time,” Remus says with his own laugh. 

“Oh! If you boys don’t mind, can we stop at the quill shop?” you ask.

“Quill shop and then Three Broomsticks? Sounds good to me,” Sirius says, answering for the whole group.

The rest of the boys wait outside while Sirius follows you into the shop. He doesn’t say anything as you browse. He follows you like a lovesick puppy, which is what the boys are calling him in their conversation outside the shop. Not that he would’ve minded it anyways. Sirius was happy. He had it all in that moment: a girl who loved him, friends who would die for him, and a family in the Potters. He couldn’t think of anything else he needed in this moment. 

After you made your purchase of a new quill and inkwell, you and the boys made your way to the Three Broomsticks. As expected, it’s packed, but that doesn’t stop you from being able to find a table big enough to fit all of you. You feel at ease as you drink butterbeers with the boys and snack on the crisps James ordered for the table. There are jokes you don’t quite understand and snide comments you don’t quite agree with, but overall, it’s good. You know you’re new to the group and it will be easier the longer you’re around. It helps that Sirius is next to you, giving you the occasional touch and kiss. And the occasional knowing look when the boys say something that would elicit a remark from you but you’re not in the place to say anything yet. 

You wave to your friends when they make their way into the pub. They gather at a table at the other end of the room.

“You can go say hi, you know,” Remus says, noticing who you’re waving to. “We’re not holding you hostage.”

“You’re not, but they might,” you say as you make eye contact with Barty and he makes kissy faces at you. “They can get my recap of my day later.”

“Oooh, what are you going to tell them about us?” Peter asks, tossing a crisp at James who catches it in his mouth.

“You spend way too much at Zonko’s, but you weren’t as bad as I was expected.”

“Wait! Wait, wait,” James says, holding up his hands to pause the conversation. “What do you mean too much at Zonko’s?”

“How bad were you expecting?” Remus asks before you can answer. 

“Potter, you know damn well what I mean. I can excuse the Honeydukes spending because, well, I’m just as bad. But Salazar, so many galleons wasted! And for what? A prank?”

“A prank that will bring joy for weeks,” Sirius says, giving you a playful nudge.

You roll your eyes.

“How bad were you expecting today to go?” Remus asks again. 

“Horrendously.”

Sirius gasps and leans away from you.

“Wait, really?”

You nod.

“We’re not… that bad, are we?” James asks. 

“Spending a full day with people I’ve barely interacted with in the six years we’ve been classmates? With our main interaction being… the yelling?” you ask incredulously.

Your point is made.

“To be honest, we… I was nervous ‘bout this too,” Peter says. “You’re scary when you’re pissed.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Remus asks with a smirk; he knows why it’s good.

“Means you are less likely to cross me.”

“And there’s the Slytherin,” James laughs before throwing back his butterbeer.

“What, being my girlfriend doesn’t make them less likely to cross you?” Sirius asks.

“While I’m sure that is reason,” you start, “I’d rather be scary. There’s more people to keep in line than your boys.”

“Like your boys,” Remus says. He’s looking at Evan and Barty.

“Oh, they are easy to keep in line,” you muse. “They are more reward-based. Threats don’t work on them.”

“Oh?” 

“Oh,” you say, not elaborating. 

“So, another round, yeah?” Sirius asks, waving down Rosmerta. 

[flowerfreya]

Repercussions

The next part in the office AU

Masterlist

Content: Readers ex boyfriend tries to win her back( does not go well ) and then she discovers she has a crush on all four of them *gasp*

Pairing : poly!141 x reader

If have any thing you want to see from this group of people, please let me know. Lowkey running out of ideas lol

Price, Soap, and Ghost stand in front of the room where you were just taken. “She’s just trying to get attention”, he shifts his gaze to Price, “You know what I mean?”, he raises his eyebrows in a know what I mean motion. 

Price is not amused ,“No, I don't know what you mean”.

“Maybe you need to take a walk”, Soap says. He tries to guide him to entrance but your ex is  a glutton for punishment. 

“No,she a bitch, she used me as a gold digger”,he spits out, waving his arms and yelling and honestly embarrassing himself. 

“Mate, you need gold in order for that to happen”, Simon is trying to move him away from the door but he is very persistent. 

“You take another step it will be your last in this building” 

He slowly turns around, “You can’t do that, there's a process”, he smirks, thinking that he’s won. 

“Oh I know the process, we have been doing the process”, he lists all the things that your ex-boyfriend has been doing or in this case, not doing. 

Price has always had a problem with your ex boyfriend, they hired him on a whim and they needed a body. They had hoped that he would have no call , no show and they could help him but alas , he very very sadly persisted. He started fucking up almost four months ago, showing up late leaving early , taking long lunches. Price had finally found his in. He’s been putting in the work with Kyle to fire him, that when he brought you in for an interview. 

Price knew that men like him , took out his frustration on the women in his life because that's just the man he is. So he put a pause on it, you didn’t deserve that. When he got that call from Simon that you had called asking for help he knew that it was a sign.

~ 

Your ex is still moaning and bitching about you, then he says something that makes you not care. 

“Oh shut the fuck up” , you yell at him and walking out the backroom. He’s shocked that you responded, you're usually very passive in this , thinking it’s easy to agree then to argue. He starts stuttering, not used to this from you. 

“Uh -u -u -u” , you mock him. You get close to him so tired of just taking it. You’re so done with him. 

“Nothing to say?” , you ask him. He looks around like one of your guys are going to help but he finds none. 

“Can you do me favor and just fucking go?” ,you're so pissed that you let yourself get to this level, this sad sad place, where knowing that you need better, that you deserve better but just staying. Settling. 

He tries to change tactics with you, “Baby, please you know that I’m sorry, I messed up please forgive me”, he gets tears in the corner of his eyes. 

You scoff, “You know you caused this , you decided to leave me here and be a jerk when I asked you to pick me up”, you pause and wait for him to respond and he has nothing to say. 

“We are done, over, never getting back together, wrap your brain around that”. 

He tries to say something else but John cuts him off and leads( pushes) him toward the exit. 

Once he’s out the door, you kind of deflate when you no longer see him. Kye places his hand on your shoulder, “Alright?”, you want to go home and curl into a ball and drink dessert wine still your stomach hurts. 

“Can I go home?”, you don’t make eye contact with him even though you know that he is trying to connect with you. You can’t do life today and being with all of them today is going to be too much. You are single for the first time in a very long time and you have a crush on your boss ... .and coworker ... .and your other coworker… and your HR rep. How do you go from hating your only romantic partner to having a crush on four people? 

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings

thank you again for your time:))

-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol

hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!

pairing: James Potter x reader tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want word count: 1.9k

Cuddles and Confessions

So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember. 

As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.

“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down. 

James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle. 

When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat. 

“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.

“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory. 

He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock. 

“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door. 

“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.” 

You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly. 

“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him. 

“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.

“Yes please,” he half laughs. 

You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you. 

He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth. 

You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle. 

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him. 

“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.” 

He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing. 

The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips. 

“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better. 

“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses. 

“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose. 

Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it. 

“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking. 

“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.

“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky. 

“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building. 

“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.” 

You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy. 

James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid. 

“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly. 

“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.

“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly. 

You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder. 

You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots. 

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound. 

“Feels nice,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods. 

You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact. 

He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his. 

It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.

You just lie there in silence for  a bit, the tension having eased considerably. 

In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response. 

“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit. 

James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself. 

“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.” 

Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.” 

He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”

Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever. 

The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.

“This is nice,” he slurs. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum. 

“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle. 

“Good.” 

“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.

You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was. 

So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”

“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. 

“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.” 

His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.

“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving. 

“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.

He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you. 

Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes. 

[afterglowsainz]

i'mgonnagetyouback pt. 2 | max verstappen

part 1

summary: max is determined to win y/n back before leaving las vegas and an unexpected reunion at the hotel's pool might be just what he needed

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i wasn't actually planning on doing a part 2 to this but a few people requested it and since i'm a pathological people pleaser here it its !!

“okay so, step one.” charles’s voice caughts his attention.

if max was gonna get y/n back, he needed to do it that weekend, she was leaving for her other tour dates and he had other races, and he needed a plan. that’s where charles, daniel and lando come in.

“break up with your girlfriend.” the monegasque continues. the other two men in the room nod, agreeing with the ferrari driver.

the second y/n’s concert finished, max felt the urge to go running backstage to her just like old times, but his plans were interrupted by the women he went to the concert with in the first place. his girlfriend wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and her daughter was too exhausted to even walk in a straight line, so he took them both to the hotel and then ran into charles’s room to create a plan, calling daniel and lando to join them.

“you’re right.” max says.

the thought of breaking up with his current girlfriend has been on the back of his mind for a while now. he didn’t really wanted to accept it, but he’s been in love with y/n all this time and it just wasn’t fair to be with someone else. step one was the most urgent.

“step two, call y/n and tell her that you wanna talk to her.” daniel speaks this time.

this one was the step he was the most nervous about. they haven’t talked for ten months and now suddenly he was thinking of getting back together, i mean, what if she moved on already? just because he hasn’t doesn’t mean she didn’t either; but he remembered her singing a few hours ago about getting him back, even if it was just to punch him in the face. he would take what he can get.

“maybe mention that you went to see her show as well.” lando adds.

“what if she thinks i’m a creep or something?” charles gives him an incredulous look.

“mate, come on, you’re her ex, not some random dude.” max nods again and felt the stress of anticipation already creeping in.

“it’ll be fine, max, nothing to worry about.” daniel tries to reassure him and lando smiles at him in the same way.

he exhales and stands up from the chair he was seated on.

“i should go back to my room. start things with the right foot.” they all agree with him and wish him good luck.

when he got back to his room, he saw his girlfriend’s daughter already asleep on her bed and his girlfriend laying down and watching something on tv. he prepared himself internally and went into the room.

“hey.” he says. “can we talk?”

he was quick. it was as uncomfortable as breaking up with someone is, but he felt a bit relieved after. she tried to persuade him into thinking about it, he said he didn’t want to hurt her. he told her they could stay at that room and he would just ask for another at the reception, she agreed. she asked if this was because of y/n, he stayed silent for a moment. he couldn’t lie, not that it was all already out there, and y/n was not a secret he had to hide to anyone. he said yes. she asked him to get out. he did.

max went down to the hotel’s reception and asked for an extra room. since it was a bit late at night they asked him to wait an hour until they arranged one of the suites for him. he agreed without complaining and was about to head back to charles’s room, however, already on the elevator he impulsively pressed the button for the last floor that took him directly to the pool. it was dark and there was no one there, the dim lights on the inside of the pool being the only lightning.

he walked over to the balcony and admired the view of las vegas beneath him, from his position he could see the whole downtown, including the track that he would be driving that weekend. if he wouldn’t have been too distracted he would have heard the sound of small steps going his way, stopping right at the entrance.

you thought you were seeing things, or that you had gone mad. you blink twice, and when he didn’t disappear, you knew max verstappen was standing right in front of you. you could recognize him anywhere.

the uncomfortable burning feeling of being looked at got the best of him and he finally turned around. he didn’t say anything, thinking it was his imagination playing games, but it wasn’t, you were right there, just mere inches away from him.

“y/n.” was all he could say. he figured a hello would be the way to go. “hey.”

you looked just as shocked as he was, but that didn’t stop you from answering.

“hi, max.” your voice was more confident than how you actually felt.

you had just done a three hour show and just wanted to relax a bit in the pool before going back to your room, and now you were there, facing your ex-boyfriend.

“you’re staying here?” he asks, regretting it instantly because of course you were.

“yeah.” you answer, not moving a single centimeter. “i have a few shows this weekend.” you explain.

“i know.” he says, almost too quickly. you arch a brow at him but don’t say anything. “i’m racing here this weekend.” you nod.

“i know.” you copy his answer, although you take a few more moments to say it.

“i went to your show.” he says out of nowhere.

this shocks you even more than before because what does he mean he went to your show?

“what?” is all that you could mumble.

“tonight.” he clarifies. “i went to see you. i hope you don’t think that’s… inappropriate.” his eyes finally leave yours and he looks at the pool instead.

“i don’t think… why would it be inappropriate?” you ask, a bit flabbergasted still. “i don’t think that.”

he nods relieved to hear you say that.

“so you went to the show?” you ask again. “you heard me sing all those songs?” you question, a bit shy.

“yeah, it was incredible.” he smiles at you. “you’re the most talented person i know.”

this makes you blush because he still has that power over you. you couldn’t manage to thank him for the compliment, so you just smiled at him, which was enough for him.

“i liked your surprise song.” he states, more confident this time.

“oh.” you reply. “you did?” he nods. “yeah, i guess it’s a fun song.” you chuckle, knowing damn well you wrote it thinking about him.

this was it, he thought. this was the moment he had been fantasizing about since he stepped into the stadium that night. how to get y/n back? this was his opportunity to do something. no charles, daniel or lando to whisper in his ear. it was all him.

“is it true?” he questions.

“what?” you frown.

“what you were singing in the song?” he explains. “i’m not gonna flatter myself thinking you wrote it about me, but, did you?”

you bit your lip trying not to laugh. how could you confess that to him?

“are you asking me if i want you back?” he notices that you ignored his question, but he didn’t care.

“i know i do.” you looked at him for a few seconds too long, processing his answer.

“i thought you had a girlfriend?” you mumble and he shakes his head.

“we’re not together anymore.” finally, he moves slowly from the other end of the balcony toward you and you remain still. “i’ve always been yours.”

you look at him properly this time, you could see every detail of his face now with how close he was to you and you felt like the ten months you haven’t talked to him hadn’t passed at all.

“and i can understand if you moved on already, but i must tell you i haven’t, for me it has always been you.”

the reasons of why you had broken up all those months ago seemed so silly now. he wasn’t a bad guy, and you weren’t a bad person. your break up wasn’t ugly, both of you had just been too busy with your crazy schedules and you thought ending things would be for the best, but not a day had passed where you didn’t regret that decision.

max was everything, and he was here in front of you, asking for a second chance.

“and when i saw you tonight at your show and i just fell more in love if that’s even possible, and i thought of all the time we wasted and i…”

you touched his face with tenderness and cut him off with a kiss that was long due.

—

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 5.482.049 others

yourusername viva las vegas! 🏁 incredible crowd for and incredible night ⭐️

view all comments

user1 omg best day of my life 😭

user2 night 1 post we wonnn

user3 girl we see that emoji 👀

user4 we see max in the likes too 👀

user5 please don’t start this i couldn’t take it 😩

user6 max at the concert, she posted pictures and she sung imgonnagetyouback as a surprise song, las vegas n1 really won 😭

user7 MAX WAS AT THE CONCERT ???

liked by yourusername, schecoperez and 893.482 others

maxverstappen1 Brand new, full throttle… 🏎

view all comments

redbullracing congrats legend! 🏆

user8 the only time he smiled during this whole weekend 😭

user9 max is so me cause i also talked shit about this race only to lowkey enjoy it at the end

user10 not him using the lyrics of so high school 😭😭

user11 sir is there something we should know? 👀

yourusername who’s that grand prix winner? 😮‍💨

maxverstappen1 i love you ❤️

user12 WHAT SINCE WHEN

user13 chat is this real ???

user14 y/nstappen back together the earth is healing 🤍

liked by francisca.cgomez, maxverstappen1 and 7.482.949 others

yourusername where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me 💘

tagged maxverstappen1

view all comments

user15 EXCUSE ME MA’AM ???

user16 omg y/nstappen i used to pray for times like this‼️

user17 the alchemy mentioned we won !!!

user18 Y/NSTAPPEN NATION LET’S RISE

alexandrasaintmleux so happy to have you back in the paddock🫶🏽💞

yourusername girl i’m happy to be back😭

user19 the fact that he actually run over to her after winning the race ohhh i’m so normal about them 😩

user20 MAX VERSTAPPEN CAN YOU FIGHT?

maxverstappen1 could never fight the alchemy❤️

yourusername my maxxx ❤️

user21 pls they’re the cutest 😭

[luna0713hunter]

Late night talk

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : late night at Going Merry always makes you feel lonely. Fortunately,your new friend and crew mate is there to keep you company.

Warnings : slightly suggestive (?), mutual pinning and kissing!

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.

The feeling of gentle waves hitting the wooden surface,the cool breeze giving you a slight shiver as you lean against the railing and rest your head on your folded arms;makes you feel slightly lonely.

Maybe its because you've just recently joined the StrawHats crew;away from your hometown where you spent all your life in. You loved your family and friends,but you just couldn't let this opportunity slide. Not when Luffy extended his hand to you,and treated you like family, like someone who was talented and worth giving a chance.

And you wouldn't let go of that hand. No.

So you joined the StrawHats,in hopes of finding your own meaning of life, and help Luffy and everyone else to the journey of One Piece.

But still, everything was fairly new to you. Spending all your time on a ship with nothing but deep blue around you,with the company of people you just recently met;your captain a sweet guy,but kinda loud. Ussop the same as Luffy. Nami a great girl, but you were kinda shy around her. The new cook,Sanji,the sweetest guy but he was always busy in the kitchen where you didnt even dare to step a foot in. And your last Crew mate-

"what're you doing up so late?"

Zoro Roronoa

The guy you've been tiptoeing around since the very first second you laid your eyes on him. To say you had a crush was an understatement;you were hopelessly in love with the swordsman.

You give him a sheepish smile as you try to look anywhere expect his eyes.

"i- uh, couldn't sleep?"

Zoro merely stares at you before slowly making his way towards where you're standing. There's a bottle of wine in his hand as he adjusts his three swords on his hip and leans against the railing as well. He raises the bottle to his lips and glances at you from the corner of his eye.

"you want some?"

When you shake your head,he only shrugs.

"more for me."

he starts drinking,and you watch as his Adam's apple bob,you immediately look the other way when your heartbeat rises.

There was a damn reason as why you kept avoiding being alone with Zoro in the first place.

You couldn't keep the heat from spreading across your cheeks and neck;and your heart seemingly beating out of your chest.

it was no secret that Zoro wasnt a huge fan of talking either. The number of time where you managed to hold a conversation with the guy without him dozing off, barely reached five fingers. And your massive crush didn't help.

So you just stood there silently, listening to the sound of the ocean and Zoro downing the bottle of wine. The silence was so uncomfortable,you could feel the awkwardness in the air.

You just prayed to gods that Zoro would start a conversation.

"so,what kept you awake tonight?"

And gods seem to have nothing better to do tonight.

You dangle your arm from the side of the ship; watching as small droplets of water slightly soaking your fingers.

"i guess...i just miss my hometown."

At that,Zoro raises a neatly trimmed eyebrow ,and again,offers you the almost empty bottle of wine. At that,you let out a small giggle,cheeks flushing because he looks absolutely adorable.

"i dont wanna drink!"

"But you said you miss your hometown. That sounds like a good enough reason for a drink to me."

You merely shrug and grin at him

"guess im not as alcoholic as you are,oh the greatest swordsman alive."

Zoro rolls his eyes at you,and empties the rest of the wine before throwing the bottle in the ocean. You watch as it vanishes in the dark night,before a faint SPLASH is heard when it hits the water down below.

"Sanji's gonna be mad at you. You know he hates throwing trash in the ocean."

"you have any more trash on you then?"

And you laugh, carefree and happy. For a moment there,you seem to forget how lonely you felt not too long ago.

Because thats how Zoro was;he was a quiet man,but had the biggest heart you knew. He would always stay at the corner,but never once taking his eyes off of his friends.

And you were so damn lucky to have him by your side.

You gently bump your shoulder to his; slowly moving closer to his side.

"so why were you awake?"

He spares you a glance before look at another side.

"no reason."

"Zoro, c'mon. You take every chance you get to take a nap. You cant be awake for no reason."

You hear him huff annoyingly at you;the sound making you grin winder. And you do the best thing you know:

Annoy the shit out of him

You start with poking his bicep;trying not to drool at the way his muscles tense under your touch,before moving up to his cheek and increase the speek of your poking.

But you could only go for long,before suddenly Zoro's grabbing at your wrist,and with a smooth move pulls you toward him.

Where your faces are inches away,and you can feel his breath fanning on your skin

You swallow loudly, trying to pull back and put some distance between yourselves,but he holds on tight;not too tight to hurt,but enough to keep you in your place. He moves his face impossibly closer,and his warm lips brush against your heated cheeks.

"you dont wanna mess with me," he murmurs;his voice raw with something you can't put a finger on, "I'm a dangerous guy."

Maybe its the adrenaline in your veins,or maybe its because its late at night and nights always made you bolder. So you turn your head slightly so your nose in brushing against his cheekbone,and catch his eyes.

"and what if i like to play with danger?"

Zoro lets out a low chuckle;his eyes shifting to your lips and his hand slowly resting on your hip

"Then dont say i didnt warn ya."

And then his lips are on yours.

Your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you close;your hands finding their ways to his hard chest,and then around his neck to pull him in. Zoro lets out a groan,and his hold on you tightens more.

With one hand resting on your hip and the other traveling up and down your spine,he pulls away to let you breath for only a second before diving back in.

Because Zoro was always drunk,but your lips might be his favorite thing to get drunk on from now on

You dont know how much time has passes before you pull away;both of you panting heavily and Zoro places small kisses on your cheeks and temples.

"you didnt answer the question, y'know."

You feel him pause against your skin and you grin.

"what question?"

"why were you awake?"

Zoro groans but when you tug at his hair,he just hides his face in your neck and when he speaks next,you feel his lips touching your sensitive skin.

"saw you space out alot at dinner and then you didnt go to sleep. Didnt want to leave ya alone."

With the confession,your heart flutters and butterflies fill your stomach. You card your fingers through his green locks and move his face so you can plant a loving kiss on his lips.

"thank you,Zoro."

"the pleasure is all mine."

And when he kisses you next,its filled with laughter and happiness.

Nights at Going Merry,are hard to spend alone.

But when you kiss Zoro until the sunrise,you cant help but wish for it to last longer.

If it meant to spend it with your love, you'll gladly wait for skies to turn dark.

[luvfae]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a female reader x Thanos.

What about reader and thanos we’re close before the games both harbouring feelings maybe, but they both have mental health struggles and she is someone who dose things with out thinking of the consequences because she doesn’t care so anyway when they find each other in the games thanos is aware of her tendencies and is like kind of babysitting her.

Like in the first game she makes zero move once she finds out you die and he literally drags her across, and maybe the second game she is always his first choice but she just lays there depressed and cynical and makes sarcastic comments while him and nah gy go around finding team mates or in mingle she makes no move but ofc he always saves her ass, until one night he gives her a rude awakening a harsh pep talk feeling confessing etc. u can put your own spin on it ofc ofc!!

I DON’T CARE

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: swearing, mention of drugs and alcohol, mental health issues, death, blood, typical squid game stuff

You and Thanos had always been a little fucked up.

That’s what made you close.

You met him at a party two years ago—one of those loud, suffocating nights where everyone was either high, drunk, or trying to be. He was leaning against a balcony, smoking, watching the chaos unfold like it was a movie he’d seen a hundred times before.

You had walked up, grabbed the cigarette from his lips, and took a drag without asking.

He had let you.

“You look like you want to jump,” you had said, staring down at the city lights.

He had snorted. “You look like you wouldn’t care if I did.”

That was the start of it.

You weren’t exactly good for each other, but you understood each other. The reckless, self-destructive tendencies. The numbness that came in waves. You never had to explain why you did the things you did—skipping work for days at a time, getting blackout drunk just to feel something, making choices that could ruin you without thinking twice. Because he got it.

And maybe that was why, despite all the tension, all the times you nearly crossed the line from friends to something else, you never did. Because you knew the second you let him have you, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Then he disappeared.

You heard the rumors—he got into drugs, got into trouble, owed money to the wrong people. You had reached out once, maybe twice, but you never pushed. And eventually, you stopped trying.

Until now.

Until you saw him again.

Your head was pounding. Your body ached. You barely remembered how you got here, only that you had woken up in this fucking tracksuit with the number 067 on your chest and some masked freak telling you to follow the others.

And then—

“No fucking way.”

Your stomach twisted at the sound of his voice.

You turned.

And there he was.

Thanos.

He looked like hell—bruised knuckles, tired eyes, the same cocky smirk that always made you want to punch him in the face.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over you, as if making sure you were real.

You swallowed. “Yeah. Same.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then he snorted. “I should’ve known you’d end up in some fucked-up shit like this.”

You crossed your arms. “Takes one to know one.”

He huffed a laugh, but there was something behind it. Something tight. Something that made your chest ache.

“How bad?” you asked, voice quieter.

His jaw tensed. “Bad.”

You nodded.

He nodded back.

You didn’t need to say more.

Because he knew what you were asking. And you knew what he wasn’t saying.

And when the sirens blared, when you were herded outside for the first game, when the blood started spilling and the bodies started dropping, you froze.

Gunshots rang out. Bodies collapsed. Screams filled the air, and yet you just stood there, frozen.

You weren’t scared. No, fear would mean you actually cared about living. You simply didn’t see the point. What was the point?

You stood there, staring at the massive doll, blinking slowly as the words “Green Light” echoed in the cold air.

Around you, people were rushing forward, sprinting, their eyes wide with desperation. The tension was palpable, the sound of rapid heartbeats almost deafening as they tried to make it to the end before the next “Red Light.”

You weren’t scared. You weren’t anything. Just numb.

You could hear it—the gasps of fear, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and then—gunshots.

Someone screamed.

But still, you didn’t move.

The moment it hit you, like a wave crashing over a brittle shore, was that you weren’t just standing still because you were numb. You were standing still because it didn’t matter. If you died here, it wouldn’t matter. If you made it out, what would it change?

Nothing. Everything was pointless.

And that’s when you felt it—Thanos’s hand, strong and relentless, grabbing your wrist, yanking you forward.

“The fuck are you doing?” His voice was a low hiss, filled with fury, but his grip on you didn’t loosen.

Your feet stumbled as you were dragged, fighting for balance. Your mind was foggy, distant, numb to the fear that gripped everyone else. The bloodshed, the screams, the flashing lights—it was like you were standing outside of it all, watching it happen to someone else.

“Move!” Thanos barked, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tried to jerk away, feeling the weight of his grip only tightening.

“I—” You blinked, but your voice felt hollow. “I don’t care.”

The next whistle blew.

Your body jerked with the momentum of his tug, and for a moment, you didn’t feel the ground under your feet. Thanos’s arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you, pulling you through the crowd of bodies that were tumbling and falling like leaves in a storm.

Gunshots rang out in the background. You could see it now—people, falling. Bodies collapsing like ragdolls.

But you didn’t care.

“You wanna die?” Thanos’s voice was harsh, just an inch from your ear, filled with raw anger.

You blinked slowly. “I don’t care,” you repeated, though the words felt strange in your mouth. Almost like a lie you’d told yourself for so long that you’d forgotten what it really meant.

Thanos’s grip tightened. He wasn’t listening, not to your words. He wasn’t letting you slip into that void again. His eyes were wide, jaw clenched, the muscle in his neck pulsing with barely contained frustration. The whistle blew again.

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, lifting you off your feet entirely now, dragging you forward like you weighed nothing.

He didn’t give you a choice. He didn’t care that you didn’t care. He was going to keep you alive, even if it meant forcing you to fight against the numbness that consumed you.

By the time the countdown ended, you were nearly at the finish line. Your heart thudded in your chest—not from fear, not from adrenaline, but because of the strange, foreign sensation of being pulled back from the edge.

Thanos pushed you across the line. He was breathless, chest heaving from the physical strain of pulling you. His grip on your waist loosened only when the game ended, and the crowd’s screams faded.

When it was over, when the air cleared, you leaned back against the cold wall, your body sliding down to the ground, exhaustion settling in.

Thanos stood there, staring at you, chest heaving in rhythm with yours. His eyes narrowed with something dangerous, something you hadn’t seen before. Something deeper than anger.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he spat, but it lacked the usual humor.

You didn’t answer. You just sat there, staring at the floor. The adrenaline was leaving your system, and all you had left was the heaviness of everything—the gunshots, the blood, the screams.

“I don’t care,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

Thanos crouched in front of you, eyes intense, searching your face for something he didn’t know how to find. Something that he needed to fix.

“No,” he snapped, his hand reaching out to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “We’re not doing this. Not anymore.”

His fingers dug into your skin, the intensity in his gaze so powerful that you couldn’t look away, even though part of you wanted to. His voice softened, but there was no less fire in it. “I won’t let you throw yourself away.”

Your chest tightened. Something deep inside of you stirred, but it was fleeting. You felt vulnerable, stripped bare in front of him.

“I won’t let you die,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his thumb gently brushing over your skin like it could erase everything you were running from.

You felt the ache in your chest then, the crack that began to form from the pressure of his words. The weight of his care.

And for a second, just a second, it felt like you were actually seen.

—

The next day when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t bother to move. You just sat there, your arms resting on your knees, watching the other players scramble to form teams, trying to sort out the chaos of who was going to be their partner. You could hear the shuffling of feet, the anxious whispers, the desperation in every movement. But none of it touched you. You were past it.

“Get up.”

Thanos’s voice cut through the haze of indifference surrounding you. He was standing over you, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you tilted your head back, staring at the high ceiling above, your mind drifting. He could wait.

“I’m not asking, sweetheart.” His voice was firm now, sharp like a warning. “Get up.”

You sighed, the weight of the world pressing on your chest. This wasn’t even the worst of it. You glanced at him briefly, and for a second, something flickered in your chest—a feeling, a pulse of something that made you almost want to smile. Almost.

You dragged yourself up from the floor with exaggerated slowness, not bothering to hide the way your limbs felt heavy, as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore. The sound of the other players forming teams, their voices blending into the background, became distant.

Thanos didn’t wait for you to make a move. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, pulling you with him toward the group that was gathering to select their partners.

“You’re with me,” he said, without asking, without giving you any say in it. His words weren’t a request—they were a demand.

You raised an eyebrow, raising your free hand to smooth your hair back. “Thanos, you need five people, not just one. Go find your three others.”

He didn’t even look at you as he grunted. “Get up. We’re doing this.”

You weren’t sure why it annoyed you. Maybe it was the way he thought he could just make decisions for you like that, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want to give a shit about anything anymore. But instead of arguing, you flopped back against the wall, letting out a deep sigh. “You’re so bossy.”

“I swear, if you don’t—”

“You’ll what?” you asked lazily, watching the other players scramble like rats. “Let me die?”

He stared at you, jaw clenched, clearly fighting the urge to snap at you. You saw the anger flaring in his eyes, the protective instinct swirling beneath the surface. But he said nothing. He didn’t yell at you. He just turned and walked away, a look of frustration flashing across his face.

It was strange. Normally, you’d see that and feel some sick satisfaction. But today, it left you empty, like the familiar edge of tension between you and him had dulled.

After a few moments, he came back. You didn’t look up from where you were sprawled on the floor, your legs stretched out in front of you.

Thanos took the spot next to you. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there, silent, his eyes scanning the group. You could tell he was waiting for you to make a move, to show some sign that you were still capable of caring about something.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move.

And maybe that was why, when he spoke again, his voice was softer, quieter. “Come on. We’ve got to find one more person.”

You didn’t answer him. You just kept staring ahead, your eyes unfocused.

Thanos cursed under his breath. “Fine. Stay here. I don’t give a shit. But we’re playing this fucking game.”

When you didn’t react, he stood up, dragging a reluctant Nam-Gyu over to form the rest of the team. You could hear them talking quietly for a moment, but it barely registered in your head.

You hadn’t realized how much it hurt, how much the detachment had taken a toll on you, until you felt him next to you again, the weight of his presence a reminder that something—someone—still cared.

It was just a fleeting moment, but it stung.

“You with me or what?”

You finally looked up at him. The frustration in his eyes hadn’t faded, but there was something else there, something deeper, almost like he was begging you to show up.

You stood without a word, dusting yourself off as you followed him to the designated area.

Thanos didn’t say anything else as the game began. He just watched you, his eyes never leaving you as you moved through the tasks. His hands were steady, precise, but every time you stumbled, he was there to catch you. His grip on your arm was always firm, as if he were trying to anchor you to this world, to this moment where you were still alive.

Every time you fell behind, he didn’t yell. He didn’t berate you. He just pulled you up and kept you going.

And for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel like you were fighting the game. You weren’t fighting him either.

You were fighting with him.

And as the game stretched on, the realization hit you: this wasn’t just about survival anymore. Thanos wasn’t just keeping you alive because of some unspoken duty or because he had no other choice.

He was doing it because he wanted to.

You couldn’t quite understand it, but you didn’t mind it. Not anymore.

—

The next game felt like a cruel joke.

You stood at the edge of the group, your mind numb to the urgency that seemed to swallow the others whole. The guards had explained the rules—nothing complicated, just survival—yet your body remained unmoving, despite the chaos unfolding around you.

Most of the players immediately scrambled, eyes wide, feet shuffling as they sought safety. You could hear the hurried breaths of your fellow players, the scrape of shoes against the concrete floor, the soft sounds of bodies rushing and tumbling in all directions. Yet, you just… didn’t care.

Everyone else seemed like they were fighting for their lives, but you?

You were waiting for it all to end.

And then, just like that, you felt the heat of a body next to yours. His scent—leather, sweat, something familiar—struck you before you even saw him.

“Nope,” Thanos muttered under his breath as his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist before you could even process what was happening.

You blinked, the numbness in your mind finally starting to fade as he yanked you toward him, pulling you into his space like he’d done countless times before. “Not today,” he said firmly, his voice low with that undercurrent of protectiveness that you had come to know so well.

You didn’t fight him. Not this time. His grip was strong, secure, and for once, you allowed yourself to lean into it. You didn’t want to make the effort to run or find a spot of safety. So you didn’t.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you muttered, looking up at him, your voice quieter than you intended.

Thanos glanced down at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yes, I fucking did,” he replied, his tone hard, his grip never faltering.

You stayed quiet as he pulled you into an empty room, positioning you closer to the wall, where the guards couldn’t reach as easily if for some reason they decided to kill you. But it was more than that—he was keeping you close, making sure no one else could get too near, too close.

You hated how much it comforted you.

The minutes ticked by, the guards’ voices harsh in the background, and still, you stood there, pressed against him. His body was warm, solid, like a shield. You didn’t think about how strange it felt to have him act like this—to be the one protecting you. No, you just let him, because for once, it felt like you had a reason to stay.

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but it was enough for the panic to begin to settle. Enough for you to breathe again. You weren’t entirely safe, not yet. But for the first time in days, you weren’t just surviving; you were simply existing.

And it felt like an eternity before the sirens sounded, signaling the end of the game. The crowd around you began to move, restless and relieved.

Thanos released his hold on you just slightly, but he didn’t step away. His fingers lingered for a moment before dropping to his side.

“Think you can make it on your own?” His voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, suddenly aware of how close the two of you still were, the heat between you both suddenly charging the air in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Maybe,” you muttered, looking away. “But you’re not exactly a bad guy to have around.”

Thanos snorted, a dark humor creeping into his voice. “Don’t get used to it.”

But you could feel his eyes on you, and despite everything—despite the absurdity of it all—you felt something inside shift. The games weren’t over, but something between you and Thanos had already changed.

And you weren’t sure if you could go back.

—

That night, Thanos snapped.

“I can’t keep babysitting you,” he growled, pacing in front of you.

You sat on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees, staring ahead blankly. “I never asked you to.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Then what, I should’ve let you fucking die?”

You didn’t answer.

That only pissed him off more.

“You act like nothing matters. Like you don’t give a shit if you live or die. But guess what, sweetheart?” He crouched in front of you, gripping your chin, forcing your eyes on him.

“I give a shit.”

Your breath caught.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck happened to you. I don’t know why you’re like this. But you do not get to throw yourself away.” His voice dropped lower. “Not when I—”

His grip faltered. His expression twisted.

Not when I care about you.

The words never came, but you felt them.

Something deep inside you cracked.

You swallowed hard. Your throat burned. Your chest ached. The weight of his words, of everything you’d been avoiding, came crashing down on you all at once.

For the first time in days, you felt something.

And you weren’t sure if that terrified you more than the games themselves.

But one thing was clear.

For Thanos, you’d try.

Even if you didn’t know how.

Something had changed.

It was subtle, but it was there.

Thanos didn’t say anything after that night—no more lectures, no more scolding. He just sat with you in the dark, his shoulder pressed against yours, and let the silence stretch between you.

But you could feel it. The weight of his words. The rawness in his voice when he said, I give a shit.

And maybe, just maybe, you had started to give a shit too.

Because the next morning, when the guards announced the next game, you didn’t drag your feet. You stood up. You followed. You let Thanos find you in the crowd without him having to pull you by the wrist.

You saw the way he looked at you—like he noticed the change, like he was waiting for you to slip back into that numb, hollow state again.

You didn’t.

Not yet.

[biblical-chronicles]

Called out

_________________________________________

where you call Liam out for his bullshit. live.

_________________________________________

You stepped off stage, still buzzing, the adrenaline coursing through you while the roar of the crowd faded into the festival noise.

And that’s when you saw him.

Liam Gallagher, standing just a few feet away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, like he’d been waiting there for a bit longer than normal.

He rocked back on his heels slightly as you approached, then straightened up, taking a breath before stepping forward. “Alright,” he said, nodding. “I’m, uh—”

“You’re Liam from Oasis.” You deadpanned, barely biting back a smirk.

He froze.

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” He let out a small, awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess you would know that, wouldn’t ya?”

You laughed. “Yeah, not drunk just yet.”

Liam exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at himself before recovering. “Well, uh… anyway—proper class set, that.” His voice was a little gruffer now, more certain, though there was still a bit of nervous energy hanging around the edges. “Loved it. Got some proper bite to it, that.”

That made you grin. “Yeah? Well, that means a lot, coming from you.”

He waved a hand, trying to brush off the compliment, but the slight pink tinge in his face gave him away. “Nah, I mean it. There’s not a lot of bands makin’ stuff with a kick these days, y’know what I mean?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you like he was properly taking you in for the first time. “But you got somethin’—somethin’ real.”

You felt warmth spread through your chest. “That’s high praise, Gallagher.”

He just hummed, shifting on his feet like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t quite get it out. His fingers twitched at his sides. There was something almost boyish about the way he looked at you—like he’d been caught off guard, not quite sure how to navigate you.

Before he could find his words, though, a voice cut through the air.

“Liam, mate, we gotta head over—interviews start in ten.”

One of his team members was waving him over from a few feet away, looking pointedly at his watch.

Liam clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, but nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec.”

Then he turned back to you, almost reluctantly, like he wasn’t ready for the conversation to end just yet. His fingers twitched again, like he wanted to do something—maybe shake your hand, maybe not—but in the end, he just gave you one last lingering look.

“See you round, yeah?”

You smiled, tilting your head. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

And with that, he let out a small breath, nodded to himself, and turned to walk off—shoulders squared, but his hands definitely flexing at his sides like he was trying way too hard to play it cool.

You hadn’t planned on sticking around much longer, not really, but when you caught sight of Liam sitting in front of a mic, his body language almost relaxed again, you figured you’d hang back for a minute. Just to see how he handled himself when he wasn’t being all flustered in front of you.

At first, it was normal enough—standard questions about the festival, his set, a few digs at other bands that he probably wasn’t supposed to be making. But then the interviewer, brought you up.

“So, you were seen chatting with the new act earlier,” he said, throwing him a knowing look. “You a fan, then?”

You watched Liam scoff, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Listen, mate, she’s alright,” he said, dragging the word out like he was doing you a favour. “Bit of a character, y’know what I mean? But yeah, she’s into me, obviously.”

You nearly choked on your drink.

The interviewer’s eyebrow shot up. “Obviously?”

Liam waved a hand. “Come on, you saw it. She was givin’ me the eyes, mate. The whole thing.” He gestured vaguely, like that somehow explained everything. “Can’t blame her, though, can ya? I’ve got that effect on people.”

Ohh, this was too good.

You locked eyes with the interviewer from behind the camera, bringing a finger to your lips, silently telling him to keep quiet about your presence. He smirked but nodded, playing along.

“So,” he continued, “are you gonna do owt about it?”

“Nah,” Liam said, shaking his head. “No need. She’s already hooked, innit? Just a matter of time before she cracks.”

Alright, that’s enough of that.

“Oi, Gallagher,” you called, voice cutting through the conversation like a knife.

Liam practically jumped.

For a second, he didn’t even turn around, like he was praying he’d imagined your voice. But then, slowly, stiffly, he twisted in his chair and you’d never seen someone’s confidence drain so quickly. The cocky smirk vanished, replaced by something caught between oh, fuck and play it cool, play it cool.

The interviewer was barely holding back laughter.

“Ohh, fuck off,” Liam muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “So, let me get this straight—I fancy you, yeah?”

Liam cleared his throat. “Well, I mean—”

“And you weren’t all blushy earlier?”

His jaw clenched. “Nah.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t mean it when you said you love our material?”

Liam looked like he was in hell.

“You’re sweating, mate,” the interviewer added, barely containing his laughter.

“I am not,” Liam shot back, ears turning pink.

You smirked. “Alright, then. If I fancy you so much but you don’t feel the same, then you wouldn’t want a kiss if I offered, would you?”

Liam’s brain short-circuited.

For a solid few seconds, he just stared at you, clearly weighing his options. If he said yes, he’d look desperate. If he said no, he’d look stupid. He was trapped, and he knew it.

“This is entrapment,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s what this is.”

You grinned. “Oh, is it?”

“Aye. Scandalous, this.”

The interviewer was actually laughing now. “So, what’s the answer then, Liam? Kiss or no kiss?”

Liam dragged a hand down his face again, exhaling sharply before finally looking at you. “Wouldn’t not want one,” he mumbled.

That was all you needed.

You grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him down into a kiss—not overly dramatic, just enough to give him a taste.

When you pulled away, he looked a bit dazed.

You patted his chest, smirking. “Cheer up, Gallagher. Looks like I did crack after all.”

And then, just to twist the knife, you leaned in again and murmured, “But, I mean, you definitely wouldn’t run after me for more if I walked off now, right? That would be so uncool.”

Liam, still dazed, automatically nodded. “Yeah. Nah. Wouldn’t do that.”

“Good.” You flashed him a grin, then turned on your heel and strolled off into the festival crowd.

For a second, Liam didn’t move.

“Right,” he muttered to himself. “Right, okay.”

And then, before he could even think about it—before his pride could stop him—he bolted.

Straight after you.

_________________________________________

summat cute for today, hope you like it !

I also have an angst request, so if anyone has any ideas give me a shout you lot (make sure it has space for a happy endin', I can't do sad endings I'm afraid)

[minxmut-cafe]

PLAY BOY BUNNY

Pairing : Bunny Hybrid Jungkook x Jaguar Hybrid Reader

Word count : 13 k

Warning : heat, smut, fluff, angst, cunnilingus, penetration, mentions of mating position, animalistic behaviour (no I'm not a furry BACK. OFF), sex, overstimulation and more...

Authors note : AAHHRHRHR IM FINALLY DONE WITH MY EXAMS YASSS!!!! MORE FICS COMING SOOON YOU ALL!! NEW PARTS FOR BEAR WITH ME, HEXED HEARTS AND A NEW YOONGI FIC IS ON THE WAY!!

I hope y'all have fun reading this fic. I'm planning on writing Hybrid aus for all the members so if you have any fun hybrid couple ideas COMMENT THEM OR SEND IN AN ASK!!!

Synopsis :

"What happens when it's the prey chasing the predator"

01 | 02 | 03

Y/N didn’t expect much when she moved into her new apartment. It was a decent place—close to campus, not entirely falling apart, and best of all, it had thick walls. Meaning she wouldn’t have to deal with noisy neighbors.

Or so she thought.

Because the first thing she noticed, before she even finished unpacking, was the sound of her next-door neighbor’s door unlocking. She turned just in time to see him step into the hallway—a big, broad-shouldered guy with sleeves of tattoos curling up his arms and a silver lip ring catching the light when he yawned.

Y/N stopped. Blinked.

A bunny hybrid.

She could tell from the ears twitching atop his head, the faintest scrunch of his nose as he rubbed a hand over his face. But the rest of him? The messy black hair, the piercings, the leather jacket slung over his arm? If she hadn’t smelled the hybrid part of him, she would’ve assumed he was just some intimidating bad boy.

Interesting.

He yawned again, stretching his arms over his head, completely unaware of her shameless staring. His muscles tensed, the tattoos along his forearms shifting with the movement, and Y/N found herself tilting her head.

A big, buff, tatted-up bunny hybrid?

That was new.

And, naturally, she had to say something.

"Didn’t know bunnies came in ‘bad boy.’"

Jungkook froze.

Finally noticing her, he dropped his arms and turned his head, blinking down at her like he hadn’t registered a single word she just said.

Y/N arched a brow, arms crossing as her tail flicked lazily behind her. "What, cat got your tongue?"

His nose twitched. "You’re a jaguar."

She grinned. "And you’re a bunny."

Jungkook exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. And?"

"And... you look like you beat people up for a living."

"I don’t," he deadpanned.

"Shame. Would’ve been a good side hustle."

She expected him to scoff, maybe roll his eyes and brush her off like most hybrids did when they realized she was a jaguar. Predators weren’t exactly known for their warm, welcoming energy. But Jungkook just stared at her, blinking in that slow, absent way of prey hybrids.

Then, with a final shake of his head, he muttered, "Whatever," and turned to leave.

Y/N wasn’t sure why that amused her so much, but it did.

This is going to be fun.

The first time Y/N saw a girl leave Jungkook’s apartment, she thought huh.

The second time, she thought oh.

The third time? She whistled.

Leaning against her doorframe, she tilted her head as yet another woman stepped out of his place, fixing her hair and adjusting her dress before hurrying down the hallway. Y/N waited until Jungkook appeared in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, ears twitching as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

Oh, this is too easy.

"Morning, Playboy Bunny."

Jungkook flinched so hard his ears shot straight up. "What?"

She smirked. "I said, morning. Busy night?"

His nose scrunched. "Don’t—"

"Don’t what? Call you Playboy Bunny?" She tapped a finger against her chin. "Because it suits you, y'know. All that stamina, all those partners… you are a bunny, after all."

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "What is wrong with you?"

"What isn’t?"

That was the beginning of their tradition.

Every time she caught a girl leaving his apartment, she greeted him the same way. Morning, Playboy Bunny. And every time, Jungkook suffered. His ears drooped, his nose twitched, and he either avoided eye contact or grumbled something under his breath before slamming his door shut.

It was delightful.

But nothing—nothing—was as good as the day she introduced The Carrot.

It happened after class. She spotted him in the library, hunched over his laptop with his glasses slipping down his nose, concentrating hard on whatever he was working on.

So, naturally, she strolled up, dropped a huge carrot onto his desk, and said, “Thought you might need a snack, Bunny.”

Jungkook stared at it. Then at her. Then back at the carrot.

A vein in his forehead popped. "Y/N."

"Yes?"

"I will throw this at you."

She grinned. "You’d be wasting food, Playboy."

That was it. That was the moment she won. Because from that day forward, Jungkook called her Carrot like it was a curse.

"Move, Carrot."

"Shut up, Carrot."

"Oh my God, Carrot, go away."

She lived for it.

But somewhere along the way, things… shifted.

The teasing didn’t stop. But the way Jungkook looked at her did.

And that changed everything.

The first time she noticed it, it was small. Barely anything.

Jungkook had his head down, scrolling through his phone, one hand resting absently on his knee. She was perched on the balcony railing, playing with the bottle cap from her beer, the night air cool against her skin.

Then, something made him laugh—one of those quiet, breathy chuckles, the kind that wasn’t really meant for anyone else.

And his nose scrunched.

She blinked.

Huh.

Weird.

She shook it off, turning her attention back to the street below. But after that, she started catching things she never noticed before.

Like how his ears twitched when he was nervous.

Or how he chewed his lip when he was thinking.

Or how he had this habit of rolling his shoulders, easing the tension in them when he got out of the gym, sweat still clinging to his skin—

Nope. Not thinking about that.

"Carrot."

Jungkook’s voice snapped her out of it. She turned, schooling her features into a smirk. "What, Bun?"

His brows furrowed slightly, like he was debating something, before he huffed, reaching into the fridge. "You eating or not?"

This was new.

Usually, their interactions consisted of warfare. Snarky remarks. Petty revenge. Nothing serious. Nothing normal. But lately, Jungkook had been doing things like… inviting her over for dinner. Bringing her leftovers when he cooked too much. Showing up with her favorite iced coffee, claiming he “accidentally got the wrong order.”

Lies.

She knew because Jungkook was terrifyingly specific about his coffee.

And it wasn’t just him.

She had started lingering in his apartment more. Sitting on his counter while he cooked. Casually stealing his hoodies, pretending it was just to piss him off—when really, they were just… comfortable.

She should have seen the shift happening, but it crept up on her.

And then, one night, she really noticed.

Because suddenly—

The women were gone.

No more late-night departures. No more lipstick stains on his collar. No more muffled moans behind his door.

It took her a while to realize. At first, she figured he was just slowing down. Maybe taking a break. But then weeks passed, and—nothing.

The Playboy Bunny had retired.

And for some fucking reason, that unsettled her.

Not because she cared. No, absolutely not. She was just… confused.

So she casually brought it up.

"So." She lounged across his couch, flipping through channels. "You lose your touch, Bun? Or did you finally run out of girls dumb enough to fall for those stupid Bambi eyes?"

Jungkook didn’t even glance up from his laptop. "Jealous, Carrot?"

She scoffed. "You wish."

He just smirked, but then—

"No."

That was it.

No snarky comeback. No teasing remark. Just… no.

And that’s when it hit her.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

Jungkook had stopped because—because something had changed.

Because they had changed.

And suddenly, she wasn’t as comfortable on that couch anymore.

She tried to ignore it.

She really, really did.

But once the thought took root in her mind, it was everywhere. The lack of women. The way Jungkook’s ears twitched when she spoke. The way his gaze lingered when he thought she wasn’t looking.

And worst of all?

The way she started noticing him.

Like, yeah, okay—he was hot. She had eyes. She knew that. But before, it was easy to shove that knowledge aside because he was also annoying and a pain in her ass. But now?

Now it was distracting.

Like when he worked out in the building’s shared gym and came back sweaty, muscles tight beneath his hoodie, hair damp. Or when he stretched after a long day, ears flicking, abs flexing under his oversized shirt, and she—

No. Nope. Not thinking about it.

And yet, her stupid jaguar instincts weren’t listening.

She caught herself staring way too long at his hands—his big, veiny hands—while he chopped vegetables. Caught herself tracking his scent when he walked by. And the worst was when he stood too close.

Because suddenly, Jungkook was always close.

Like now.

She was in his apartment, perched on the counter as he cooked, pretending she wasn’t hyper-aware of how easily he could step between her legs if he wanted to.

"You spacing out, Carrot?" Jungkook’s voice snapped her back. He was smirking. "Didn’t know you liked watching me that much."

Her face heated instantly. She scowled, grabbing a baby carrot from the counter and throwing it at his stupid, smug Playboy Bunny face.

"Please, Bun. I’m just trying to figure out how a man with the personality of a wet napkin managed to pull so many girls."

Jungkook caught the carrot mid-air, popping it into his mouth. "Beats me. Maybe they just have bad taste."

And then—

His gaze flicked to hers.

Something intentional about it.

Something that made her stomach flip.

Fuck. Fuck.

She scrambled for another insult, but the moment was already gone. Jungkook turned back to his pan, effortlessly flipping something over, and she exhaled, trying to steady her pulse.

This was getting dangerous.

She needed to leave before she did something stupid, like keep looking at him.

"Alright, Bun. I’m heading—"

But then he spoke.

"Stay."

It wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t even a request.

It was instinct.

And she?

She stayed.

It was late.

Too late for her to be here, lounging on his couch like she lived there.

Too late for her to be sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the cushions, pretending she wasn’t hyper-aware of every movement he made.

The TV flickered, casting shifting shadows across the room. Some random documentary droned on in the background—something about deep-sea creatures. Normally, she’d be fascinated, but right now, the only predator she could focus on was the damn bunny behind her.

"You’re quiet tonight."

Jungkook’s voice was low, smooth—too calm.

She scoffed, reaching for her drink. "Maybe I just don’t have anything to say, Bun."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"That’d be a first."

She turned to glare at him, only to find him already looking at her. And not in the usual, I’m about to say something annoying way.

No, this was different.

This was heavy. Deliberate.

Her fingers tightened around her glass.

Because suddenly, it wasn’t just Jungkook lounging on her couch. It wasn’t just them bickering over nothing.

It was him, looking at her like he wanted her.

And her, struggling to breathe under the weight of it.

Her instincts screamed at her to move, to joke, to deflect, but her body was frozen, waiting for something she didn’t want to name.

Then—he shifted.

Moved closer.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as his scent—warm, familiar, Jungkook—wrapped around her. She didn’t stop him. Didn’t move away.

She should have.

"carrot."

The way he said it—low, almost affectionate—made her stomach flip.

She licked her lips. He tracked the movement.

Fuck.

And then—he leaned in.

It was slow, measured, like he was giving her a chance to stop him. Like he was testing her, waiting to see if she’d bolt.

She should have.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she sat there, wide-eyed, heartbeat hammering, as Jungkook—the same Jungkook she’d been teasing for months, the same Jungkook she’d tormented over his playboy ways—tilted his head and broke her world apart.

"What are you doing?" she asked, voice too soft, too breathless.

Jungkook’s fingers brushed against hers, tracing the curve of her knuckles.

"Something I should’ve done a long time ago."

Panic.

Feral panic.

Her brain short-circuited, instincts slamming into her like a freight train. Because this wasn’t banter. This wasn’t a game.

This was real.

He was real.

And she couldn’t—couldn’t—

So she did what she did best.

She lashed out.

"Oh." Her laugh was sharp, brittle. "What, trying to add me to your list now, Bun?"

Jungkook froze.

Something in his expression cracked—something she hadn’t meant to touch.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Then, slowly, he pulled away.

Sat back.

Nodded.

"I see."

And that was it.

No argument. No snarky retort. Just those two words.

Two words that felt like a knife to the gut.

Then Jungkook stood, grabbed his hoodie, and left.

And the second the door clicked shut behind him—

She realized she had fucked up.

The silence was unbearable.

Jaguar hybrids weren’t built for stillness. They thrived in motion, in chaos, in doing. But now, she just sat there, staring at the door like it might suddenly swing open and undo what had just happened.

"I see."

Those words echoed in her skull, clawing at her like sharp teeth.

She hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t meant to make that face appear on him.

Jungkook didn’t crack. He was always easygoing, always smirking, always rolling with whatever punches she threw.

But that? That had hurt him.

And now—he was gone.

She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the hell had she just done?

She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her hand, the way his voice had dipped, the way he’d looked at her.

And she had ruined it.

Her tail lashed against the couch in frustration. Her instincts screamed at her to fix it, to go to him, but her body stayed rooted to the spot, frozen in some stupid, self-imposed limbo.

Because if she did go after him… what then?

Would she have to face the truth? That she wanted him? That the idea of being ‘just another girl’ on his list had made her jealous?

The thought made her ears flatten against her skull.

She wasn’t ready for that.

So she did the only thing she could do.

She avoided him.

She thought she could ignore it. Thought things would just… reset.

They did not.

Because Jungkook?

He ignored her right back.

And it sucked.

At first, she convinced herself it was fine. She didn’t need to talk to him anyway. It wasn’t like they lived together.

Except—

The silence stretched.

No more late-night hangouts. No more teasing. No more him dropping by unannounced, stealing her food, making her life chaotic.

He didn’t even look at her.

When they crossed paths in the hallway, he didn’t smirk. Didn’t call her ‘Carrot.’ Didn’t even acknowledge her existence beyond a curt nod before walking away.

And it drove her insane.

Worse, it made her aware of him in ways she had never been before.

The way his ears twitched toward her before he forced them back. The way his shoulders tensed when she was near, like he was holding himself back.

The way she missed him.

It was humiliating.

She wasn’t supposed to care this much.

But she did.

And the breaking point came three days later.

The building’s gym was mostly empty this late, just how she liked it. Or—normally, she would.

Tonight?

Not so much.

Because Jungkook was here.

And he still wasn’t looking at her.

She was on the treadmill, pretending not to stare, but fuck, it was impossible. He was lifting weights in front of the mirror, sleeveless hoodie dark with sweat, tattoos on full display.

Normally, she’d have made a comment. Something obnoxious, something to piss him off.

But now?

Now, she just watched, unable to ignore the coil of frustration twisting inside her.

Then—

He caught her staring.

For one, brief second, their eyes met in the mirror.

And then—he looked away.

Like she was nothing.

Something snapped.

She was off the treadmill before she could think twice, stalking toward him with all the pent-up frustration of the past few days clawing at her ribs.

Jungkook didn’t stop his reps, didn’t even acknowledge her, and that only pissed her off more.

"Okay, what the fuck?"

He didn’t respond.

She stepped closer, tail lashing behind her. "Jungkook."

Nothing.

Not even a twitch.

Oh, so this was how it was?

"You’re really ignoring me? Over that?" she snapped.

Finally, finally, he put the weights down. Turned to face her.

His expression was unreadable, but his ears—his ears were stiff, tense, pissed.

"Over what, exactly?" His voice was calm. Too calm.

Her stomach flipped.

"Oh, don’t play dumb," she hissed. "You know exactly what I mean."

Jungkook crossed his arms, muscles flexing. "Enlighten me, Carrot."

Oh.

Oh, he was mad mad.

She hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough for him to scoff and turn away again, reaching for his water bottle.

Something in her snapped.

"Are you serious? What, you’re mad because I didn’t immediately fall into your lap like the rest of them?"

She regretted it instantly.

Because the way he stilled?

Yeah, that wasn’t good.

When he turned back to her, his jaw was tight, eyes dark.

"Right." His voice was flat. "Got it."

Then—he grabbed his stuff.

And walked away.

And this time—

She knew he wasn’t coming back.

Thump.

Thump.

Moan.

Her ears twitched.

Her entire body went rigid.

No.

No, there was no way.

She lifted her head from where she’d been slamming it into her pillow, ears flicking as she strained to listen.

And then—

Another moan.

Her stomach dropped.

Oh.

Oh, of course.

She wasn’t special.

Just a dumb jaguar with self-sabotaging tendencies and a big, fat, gaping ego wound.

Of course he had moved on.

Why wouldn’t he?

Jungkook was a Playboy Bunny. Hadn’t she been calling him that from the start? Hadn’t she spent months teasing him about the revolving door of women leaving his apartment all satisfied and wrecked?

So why did she feel like she was about to explode?

Her claws sank into the mattress, tail lashing behind her in sharp, agitated swipes.

The thumping got louder. The bedframe next door rattled.

She felt sick.

Not because of the noise—no, she could handle that. She had handled that. But because—

Because for a split second, she had let herself believe it could have been her.

That she could have been the reason he stopped bringing women home.

That the way he looked at her—touched her—had meant something.

And then she’d thrown it in his face.

Now?

Now, he was making damn sure she got the message.

The next moan was louder, high-pitched, exaggerated, like it was meant to be heard.

Her fur bristled.

Her entire body tensed, muscles coiling with rage—

And before she could even think—

She was out of bed, storming toward the wall, ears pinned flat, teeth bared—

And then—

She heard it.

"Ahhh—hah—ugh, fuck, Carrot—"

She froze.

Air punched out of her lungs.

Her vision went white.

Did he—

Did he just—

Did he just moan her fucking nickname?!

Her tail puffed up so fast it nearly sent her off balance.

What the fuck?!

Her brain short-circuited.

She stood there, stunned, her entire existence collapsing in on itself.

And then—

She heard another thump.

A grunt.

And suddenly—

The noises stopped.

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

And then—

A single, horrified whisper from the other side of the wall—

"Oh… fuck."

Oh.

Oh, this bitch.

Her eye twitched.

Because now, now she understood.

There was no one in that room.

No woman.

No late-night visitor.

Just a stupid, self-righteous bunny who had been faking it—

And moaning her fucking nickname while jerking himself off like a little bitch.

She saw red.

A second later, she kicked the wall—hard enough to shake the entire apartment.

"You absolute fucking menace! she snarled. “You were faking that?!"

A long pause.

Then—

A very, very guilty—

"... No?"

She lunged for the door.

Oh, he was dead.

Jungkook was a dead man.

A dead fucking man.

She knew it the second she slammed her fist against his door, claws extended, rage boiling under her skin.

"Open the fucking door, Bunny."

Silence.

Too much silence.

Oh, that bastard was debating it.

She could feel it.

Her tail lashed, her body coiled, instincts screaming.

And then—

She heard it.

A shuffle.

A click.

The sound of feet moving away from the door.

Oh, so he was gonna run?

Big fucking mistake.

Without thinking, she did what any self-respecting, unhinged jaguar hybrid would do—

She kicked the door in.

The wood cracked, the lock gave way, and the door slammed open so hard it nearly rebounded.

And there he was.

Jungkook, standing in the middle of his living room—shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, very obviously freshly post-nut—staring at her like she was a demon straight out of hell.

His ears shot straight up.

"Oh, shit."

He bolted.

Oh, he fucking ran.

This dumbass.

This absolute coward.

She launched after him with a snarl, narrowly missing his tail as he vaulted over the back of his couch.

"You faked an entire fucking orgy just to piss me off?!" she shouted mid-chase.

Jungkook laughed—the audacity—dodging her swipe as he scrambled toward his bedroom.

"It worked, didn’t it?!"

Oh, he was so fucking dead.

She chased him through his own damn apartment, knocking over furniture, nearly slamming him into a wall when she grabbed his hoodie, but he twisted out of it like a snake.

His damn bunny speed was the only thing saving his lying ass.

But then—

He miscalculated.

Because instead of diving onto the bed like he intended—

His foot caught on the rug.

And suddenly, his big, buff, tatted-up bunny ass was crashing face-first into the mattress.

She was on him instantly.

Pouncing, straddling his back, pinning him down as she snarled into his ear.

"Say that shit again, Playboy," she hissed, yanking his ear for emphasis.

Jungkook groaned, face still buried in the sheets. "Ow—fuck, okay, okay—"

"Okay what? Okay, you’re a fucking menace? Okay, you’re a little bitch who can’t just talk about his feelings like a normal person?!"

He groaned again, ears twitching against her grip. "Okay, fuck, I get it! I’m sorry!"

She huffed, claws flexing against his shoulders. "You should be."

Then—

His back tensed under her hands.

Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head just enough to look at her over his shoulder.

And then—

That fucking smirk appeared.

"Damn, Carrot," he murmured, voice deep, teasing, dangerous. "If you wanted to be on top of me that bad, you could’ve just said so."

Her brain shut down.

Her entire body betrayed her.

Because fuck, he was warm under her. Solid. Muscles hard beneath her hands. And suddenly, she was the one panicking, heart slamming against her ribs, tail puffed up again like some stupid house cat.

Jungkook knew it.

He felt it.

His grin widened.

And that was the moment she realized—

She had lost.

Completely.

Utterly.

Hopelessly.

Because she wasn’t mad about the faked sex noises.

She wasn’t mad about the avoidance.

She was mad because—

She wanted him.

She wanted him so fucking badly it made her insane.

Her instincts knew it.

Her body knew it.

And judging by the way Jungkook’s ears were twitching, his pupils blown wide—

He knew it, too.

Her breath hitched.

A second. Just a single second too long.

That’s all it took.

Jungkook moved.

Fast.

Before she could react, before she could run, he flipped her.

One second, she was straddling him.

The next, she was on her back, trapped under him, wrists pinned beside her head, his entire massive body caging her in.

His nose twitched.

His ears lowered.

And then—

He leaned in.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Testing.

"You gonna run, carrot?" he murmured, voice husky, lips inches from hers.

CONTINUED—

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

first off let me tell you....I really like all of you write about the shadowpeach x reader from the start until now and I sudden have a very funny imagine that I want to share with you :)

like the other can't understand reader is she speak her original language when the magic does not translate it right? what about something that have happen that make the reader angry at hell like ( someone ( demon or human ) shaming her or talk shit to the spirit or to the little simian right ? I want the reader sometime be feisty and talk back to them with no holding back or even curse them in reader own language....the other maybe not understand what she saying at first but from time their manage to learning about reader language then is would be so funny when their reaction to this you know ? 👀🤣😙

"What did you just say?" Reader asked slowly turning her head around.

The man in front of her laughed, "I said that you're little monster friend deserve to be put to death." He said pointing his blade at Spirit. Spirit didn’t react besides her eyes narrowing, she wasn’t looking for a fight with this human.

*Thump* *Thump*

Reader knew that her monkeys have not always been the best behaved. However she also knew that they were hers, weather they were arguing with other people or keeping her safe. There was good and bad in everyone and she knew that very, very well. She was not about to let this man just say-

*Thump* *Thump*

Her heart pounded in her chest as she gritted her teeth. Spirit was her friend, Spirit was her new sister, she was not about to let someone talk shit about her!

*Thump* *Thump*

“It’s no wonder those disgusting little rodents follow you two around,” The man gestured towards Peaches and Plums who both hissed at him, their tails wrapped around your neck to keep balanced. Both of them huddled closer to you as if your ears from this man’s words.

“Maybe I should-.”

*Snap*

“Go fuck yourself. You think just because you’re some big man that means everything you say or do is okay. Let me tell you it’s not! We have done nothing but try to pass through town peacefully! The only one causing problems is you!” You shout, everyone around you going completely silent. Eyes wide with shock, even your monkeys went silent.

You wouldn’t stand for this! There was no way you’d stand for this! “Get the hell out of our way,” Your words piercingly calm as you stepped forward so your faces were close.

“No one insults my family, Spirit is my sister, Peaches and Plums are my monkeys. So you can go fuck yourself and get the hell out of my way,” Every word pierced the air causing the man to actually stumble back. For a moment it looked as though he was about to say something back but with one look behind you his eyes widened and he scrambled to get as far away as possible.

As soon as he saw the opportunity, the man bolted. Weather it was from you or not was unknown but you didn't really care.

"Hmph, are you okay my sweets? I hope so. That man was a rude- pardon my language... bitch," you grumbled with annoyance lacing your tone.

The monkeys looked at you with shock. Before glancing at each other.

'We're her monkeys!?' Macaque chirped with a blush.

'She's going to be our mate!' Wukong chirped happily brgore also muttering, 'That was hot.'

Macaque whipped his head to look at his mate with an approving look. He agreed, you did look rather hot when you were mad. Spirit didn't understand anything but let out a chuckle, proud of you for standing up for herself.

Here you go! I'm sorry for the wait, anon. But I hope to answer a few more asks today.

I'm also posting at least one chapter today right around noon. 😁 So be sure to check that out.

[blue-slxt]

Romancing Pandora 6

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Shoutout to the anon that said they read First Heat and wanted a version for Lo’ak. It was interesting writing this with a new dynamic so I hope you enjoy! All characters are aged up!

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Heat Cycle, Creampie

Your day was off to a normal enough start. You wake up and go eat and get to your daily chores. The only thing that was off was this slowly growing pain in your stomach. Was it your stomach? Maybe a little lower? It was distracting to say the least. Nevertheless, you don’t let it stop you from going about your business. It was odd though, you could notice things that you’d never noticed before. Smell new scents in the air that had never been there before.

“Hey, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Lo’ak says walking up to you, but for some reason, he stops just short of where you stood. His face looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

“Hey Lo. Sorry, today’s been extra weird for some reason.” You say stepping closer to him, but when you do, he takes a step back.

Hurt and confusion flash across your face. Was he avoiding you?

“Lo? What’s wrong?”

Lo’ak says nothing, but he starts to look around suspiciously. You try to follow where he’s looking, but you can’t see anything out of the ordinary. Without another word, Lo’ak grabs you by the wrist and leads you into the forest, away from the rest of the people.

“Lo’ak, where are we going?”

Still, he says nothing. He’s being so weird. But what’s even weirder is this sweet smell coming from him. He’s never smelled like that before, has he? The walk into the forest must be going deeper than you thought because you’re starting to sweat. That can’t be right, though.

Soon enough, Lo’ak drops your wrist.

“You wanna explain what the hell that was about?” you demand.

“Um, hello? Are you blind? All those guys were eyeing you like a fresh piece of yerik that they were about to jump on. I had to get you out of there.” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

Were the guys looking at you? You couldn’t remember now. It’s not like they ever payed much attention to you before.

“And what are you doing just walking around during your heat? You should be at home before your pheromones alert every male in a 10-mile radius!”

“My heat? Is that what this is?” you ask somewhat meekly.

Lo’ak looks like his eyes might bulge out of his head. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Look, Lo, you know it’s only been me and my dad and he…doesn’t really talk about stuff with me. I don’t know about this kinda thing.” And suddenly the ache in your core hits you with a new intensity. It’s much stronger than before and you have to hunch over and take a few deep breaths to get through it. It wasn’t this bad before, but with this sickeningly sweet smell wafting up your nose, it’s as if it’s egging on the pain.

“How have you made it this far in life without knowing something so basic?”

“Alright then, if you’re such an expert, then tell me how to stop this pain because it’s really getting to be too much to handle.”

Lo’ak looks around as if he doesn’t want to say it which is trying on your already frayed nerves.

“Out with it!” you tell him.

“Well, you’re supposed to…ya know…mate to deal with it.” he half mumbles the end like he’s embarrassed.

You let out a sigh of frustration. Now, your body is punishing you for not choosing a mate yet? You figure that you’re royally screwed. That is, until an idea pops in your head.

Lo’ak is still pretending to look anywhere and everywhere else to avoid eye contact with you. The smell of him is starting to make your mouth water.

You take a step over to him and lightly hook your finger in the waistband of his tewng.

“Lo’ak…help me…”

You can see the internal struggle on his face as the realization sets in of what you’re asking of him.

“I-I don’t know. I m-mean I don’t think I…I shouldn’t—“ he stammers.

“Lo’ak! Please. Just shut up and help me”

Your voice is firm and it makes his ears lower themselves against his head. His expression still holds that hesitation, so you take the initiative to press up on your toes and kiss him first. He’s taken aback at first, but he soon relaxes into it and his hands come up to hold your face. Your tail wraps around his leg hoping to pull his body closer to yours.

Any and all hesitation melts away from Lo’ak when he pulls himself away from your lips and kisses down your neck while gripping at your breast.

It feels like knot after knot is slowly being worked out of your body with every touch and kiss.

He guides you both down to the ground and hovers over your body still trailing kisses down your neck to your chest and your stomach.

The hunger in your core grows with each passing moment, needing desperately to be satiated.

“Please…need you inside…” your voice is breathless and your mind feels fuzzy, but you’re present enough to know that you’ll lose your grip without being filled.

Lo’ak quickly undoes his tewng with one hand and uses the other to slide your own to the side giving him a perfect view of your impossibly wet pussy.

“Fuck…”

It’s just above a whisper but you can still hear him. He lines himself up with you and pushes in slowly. Your back arches off the ground further with every inch that stretches you.

A moan falls from your lips that perks Lo’ak’s ears up. He lifts your knees to your chest and immediately starts thrusting into you harshly. It feels like he’s reaching into your stomach with every push into you. Every punch to your cervix forces another moan from you.

“Ah! Haah! Lo’ak!”

His eyes are trained on your face that’s scrunched up in ecstasy. His mouth falls open and his thrusts get faster. Every stroke perfectly drags the tip of his cock against the spongy part of your walls. It has your thighs trembling in his hold and your toes curling.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to cum already”

Your eyes roll as your release washes over you. The burning feeling that was overwhelming you fizzles out and subsides for now. Lo’ak fucks you slowly through your orgasm letting you ride out your high on his dick.

When you finally come down, your body relaxes and Lo’ak releases your legs. Your eyes close as you start to try and catch your breath.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Lo’ak’s hands grab you by the hips and flip your body onto your stomach and hikes your hips up so he can slam back into you. You’re given no time to think or react. And with your body and mind being lost deep in the fog of your heat, all you can do is take it. Your body naturally wants to submit to him and let him have his way with you. You have no real ability or desire to fight that instinct in this moment.

“Fuu-u-u-ck Lo-ak!” Your words are broken with every thrust.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum”

It’s completely subconscious the way your tail coils around his torso keeping him close to you so he can’t pull out. But for Lo’ak, that one gesture is enough to tumble him over that edge and spill inside of you. He cums with a loud groan and mumbles of ‘take it all’.

There’s a new warmth spreading through your body and instead of being suffocating like earlier, it’s a welcome comfort. It brings relief and satisfaction with it.

You both fall to the ground exhausted taking heaving breaths. Before you can fully compose yourself, a dull ache starts to linger in your lower belly again. Confused, you curl up on your side facing Lo’ak.

“It’s starting to hurt again. I thought you said that would fix it.”

He lets out a long sigh, “Your heat lasts for a few days. One time is only going to hold you for a little while.”

“Oh, Great Mother.”

Lo’ak looks you up and down, letting his next statement settle on his tongue.

“It’s fine. I’ll help you so just use me.”

Taglist: @tallulah477 @eywaite @stickyexpertbailiffjudge @quicktosimp @tumblingdevils @teyamshuman @rivatar @frogletscribe @witchsprit @luvv4j4ybe11 @hope-di-angelo

@neteyams-wh0re @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @sulieykte @xylianasblog @justcaptiannoodles

[kathlare]

the price of forgetting

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In the chaos of a high-energy afterparty, Lando drowns himself in alcohol and fleeting distractions, but reality crashes down on him in the form of a brutal confrontation.

Wordcount: 0.7 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

October 31st, 2022 - Mexico City, Mexico

The bass vibrated through Lando’s chest as the club pulsed with the energy of the afterparty. The air was thick with the scent of tequila, sweat, and the faint burn of expensive cologne. Martin Garrix was behind the DJ booth, his signature beats sending the already electric crowd into a frenzy.

Lando was drunk—very drunk. The kind of drunk where everything blurred at the edges, where the neon lights felt like they were melting together. He had lost track of how many drinks he’d had, but it didn’t really matter. The season was almost over, he’d had a decent race, and right now, he was just trying to enjoy himself.

And maybe forget.

A girl was pressed against his side, laughing at something he’d said—he wasn’t even sure what. She was pretty, dark hair, bright smile, but his brain was barely registering her. She wasn’t who he wanted her to be, but that didn’t matter. It never mattered.

—You’re trouble, aren’t you?— she teased, her fingers trailing over his forearm.

Lando smirked lazily. —Depends on who you ask.—

He barely had time to react before everything exploded.

A fist collided with his cheek—hard.

The impact sent him stumbling backward, his head snapping to the side as a sharp, burning pain shot through his face. The room spun, and the drunken haze that had felt so comfortable moments ago was ripped away in an instant. His vision blurred, but when he managed to focus, all he saw was Callum.

Amelie’s brother.

And he looked pissed.

—You fucking asshole!— Callum spat, his voice thick with rage, his chest heaving. His face was red, his fists still clenched at his sides like he was ready to hit him again.

Lando barely had time to process the words before Callum lunged at him again.

—You’re a dick, Norris. A selfish, pathetic piece of shit. You used her.—

Lando staggered back, still reeling from the first punch, his cheek throbbing. He tried to steady himself, tried to get his mind to catch up, but everything was happening too fast.

—Callum, what the fuck?!—

—You don’t get to act surprised!— Callum’s voice was loud, cutting through the music. People were starting to notice, turning their heads toward the commotion. Some of the other drivers, their entourages, even a few photographers were watching.

This was bad.

—You broke her, you absolute piece of shit. You don’t even fucking care, do you? You just moved on to the next girl like she never meant anything to you!— Callum was seething, his fists trembling with the effort of holding himself back.

Lando blinked, still struggling to make sense of it all. The alcohol wasn’t helping, clouding his thoughts. He knew Callum had always been protective over Amelie, but this? This felt personal.

—Callum, mate, I don’t know what the hell you think happened, but...—

—Don’t— Callum cut him off, stepping closer, his voice deadly quiet now. —You knew what she’d been through. You knew how much she trusted you. And you threw it away like it was nothing.—

Lando opened his mouth to argue, to defend himself, to say something, but nothing came out. Because the truth was, Callum wasn’t wrong.

Lando had fucked up. He’d walked away. He’d let his ego, his resentment, his own goddamn insecurities ruin everything with Amelie. He could try to make excuses—say she had been too busy, that she hadn’t put in the effort, that she had pushed him away first. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple.

And Callum? He wasn’t going to let him forget it.

—You don’t get to walk around like none of it happened, like she was just another girl to pass the time with. You don’t get to pretend she didn’t mean anything.— Callum’s voice cracked slightly, but the fury didn’t waver. —I will never forgive you for what you did to her.—

Lando clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He wanted to argue, to fight back, but what was he supposed to say? That it hadn’t meant anything? That he had moved on?

It would be a lie.

Before either of them could react, a pair of arms wrapped around Callum, yanking him back.

—Callum, stop!— Checo’s voice cut through the tension as he tried to hold Callum back.

At the same time, another set of hands grabbed Lando’s shoulders, pulling him away before he could do anything stupid.

—You need to walk away, mate.— It was Carlos, his tone low, firm.

Lando’s pulse was racing, his breathing heavy. The whole club was staring now. His cheek throbbed, his head still spinning from the alcohol, the punch, the weight of Callum’s words.

I will never forgive you for what you did to her.

The words echoed in his mind, slicing through the drunken haze like a knife.

Callum was still fuming, his body tense under Checo’s grip, but he didn’t lunge again. His eyes burned into Lando’s, filled with a hatred that Lando hadn’t seen before—not even from Amelie herself.

And maybe that was what hurt the most.

The fact that this wasn’t just Callum’s anger. This was her pain.

—Get him the fuck away from me.— Callum growled, shaking off Carlos’s grip.

Carlos gave Lando’s shoulder a firm squeeze. —Come on, let’s go. You’ve done enough damage for one night.—

Lando didn’t fight it.

Because for the first time in a long time, he didn’t want to fight.

He just wanted to disappear.

[shuggymaniac]

Story idea

Which is a mix between “Mermaid AU” and “Hades and Persephone AU”

Warning: dark!Sahnks

Shanks is a merman or a siren or whatever seas creature that is cool and I don’t know about. And Buggy is a simple human that comes across the sea creature when they were kids and kept is a secret ever since then. Shanks is so deeply in love with Buggy, dark level type of love, and he always gets upset when Buggy has to leave sometimes it ends with them fighting and Buggy not coming around for days which makes Shanks apologize profusely, promising he won’t do it again and begging Buggy not to leave again.

The love and obsession becomes worst as they got older. Buggy is a good swimmer so most times he would swim and dive which Shanks, and it was fun until Shanks’s possessiveness got the better of him making him almost drown Buggy because he didn’t want him to leave, enjoying this moment together.

Such thing would make Shanks panic he saves Buggy by drawing the attention of a passing human who manages to save Buggy, of course during all that Shanks was watching from afar all he could do is pray that Buggy will be ok. The passer did take Buggy to a hospital where he is saved.

After surviving his almost death because of his once best friend Buggy swears to never go back to the sea, if people asked he would say he is afraid of the sea when in fact he was terrified of what’s in it.

Shanks in the other hand had gone over the edge. Buggy didn’t return, did he die? Did that human kill him? Did Buggy leave? He didn’t mean that! He just wanted Buggy to stay with him forever, he is sorry her hurt blue, but his blue likes treasure, so he collects as much treasure as he can through out the years ready for the day when Buggy returns so he can give it all to him not only as an apology but also and a courting gift.

Years passed, and Buggy is invited to a friends party but he is not told that this party is near the shore. But because it has been decades since the “incident” Buggy gives it a try to indulge it, that maybe this was his step towards returning to the sea without being afraid that Shanks will kill him again. That he probably already had another victim and forgot about Buggy.

But he was so wrong…Shanks never forgot, how could he forget about his mate?

So when they cross paths again, Shanks plays it safe. He apologizes and tries to suppress the urges and instincts to just reach out and drag Buggy to him so he may never leave him again. It would take a while but with some patience and acting like Buggy’s disappearance didn’t affect him, Shanks gains Buggy’s trust.

It was small amount but it was good than nothing.

Is was way better because he convinced Buggy to eat a fruit he brought from the bottom of the sea, that it was very rare and difficult to come by. At first Buggy was very suspicious but then Shanks spoke about how he could sell it and gain a lot of his human money that he likes so much, but he should taste it first so that he knows it’s good enough.

And Buggy does just that…

All it took was one bite and Buggy’s body was burning and he couldn’t breathe. He could see Shanks but he couldn’t hear what he was saying or react much. Which made him terrified even further when with a wide happy grin Shanks started dragging Buggy into the sea, and if the blue haired man wasn’t so scared he would have realized how the sea water was cooling his body and his breathing, despite it being rapid, it was easier. Next thing Buggy know is everything going black as he lost consciousness.

When he woke up again Buggy felt different…. That something was very wrong. And then he sees it and he screams

Not only because he was in an unknown place, or that he was underwater, or that he didn’t have his clothes, but mainly because his body was no longer that of a human, it was like Shanks.

Hearing the scream Shanks will be there is seconds. He would take in Buggy’s angry punches and insults, it hurt to see the tears escape his eyes, but it was all necessary. To have Buggy here with him forever, to live together as they should have ages ago and no one will be able to take his blue away from him.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

It's rather interesting that each of the Yuus so far in the manga have been foils of sort to the overblotter in question (disciplined vs strict, competitive vs lazy, seemingly okay in body image vs puts up a mask, in order). Makes me excited to see what future Yuus will be like!!

Yes, it seems that the pattern for the manga!Yuu is that each serves as a foil or a “mirror” to the Episode’s respective OB boy. The idea is super interesting, but I hope they go further with it and actually let the Yuus engage with the OB boy of their Episode in a meaningful way. There’s both similarities and key differences between them, and I think that would make for an excellent opportunity for them to learn from each other, but also for Yuu to have a more active role in the OB boy’s steady, gradual change of heart and character. The way things are currently set up, the manga!Yuus don’t seem to have character arcs of their own or develop in any significant way from start to end; they’re just there to be the “good” example of what each OB boy struggles to attain.

For the Episode of Heartslabyul, I think the distinction between Yuuken’s discipline and Riddle’s strictness is an important one to make. At first glance, you might think being “disciplined” and being “strict” are the same thing. They’re actually not! “Disciplined” refers to control and restraint of oneself. That’s what Yuuken is! He is stoic but knows when to step forward and get serious. Meanwhile, Riddle is “strict”—demanding that both he and others obey the rules to a staggeringly stringent degree. Riddle isn’t “disciplined” because he forces his ideals on others and does not control himself when his temper flares. He is serious all the time and unrelenting in his pursuit of upholding the rules. In this way, Yuuken is actually the kind of person Riddle works toward becoming post-OB: someone with good control of his words and actions, while also observing the rules within reasonable wiggle room.

Another thing!! Yuuken’s style of leadership also greatly contrasts with Riddle’s. Throughout the Episode of Heartslabyul, we see that Yuuken is thinking about his kendo team mates, which spurs him to act or to comfort other characters because they remind him of his teammates. This was the case during the scene when Deuce confessed to his past as an ex-delinquent and Yuuken encouraged him in his endeavors to improve—just as he encouraged his kendo kouhai at the start of the manga. In spite of his stoic face, Yuuken is compassionate and considers the people around him. Meanwhile, Riddle rules with an iron fist and it’s always his way or the highway. He never once considers his classmates, their POVs, or their circumstances, always holding up his own interpretation of the rules as absolute and remaining unwilling to compromise.

For Yuuka, I wouldn’t say the contrast between her and Leona is in competitiveness vs being lazy. From what I’ve seen of her, Yuuka isn’t particularly competitive or lazy. She’s usually the one keeping people (mostly Grim) out of competition or squabbles, and she’s not exactly eager to compete (she steps up when people challenge or threaten her). I would hesitate to slot Leona (based on his actions in book 2 alone) as one or the other as well. Like… how is he lazy if he’s putting forth the effort to enact this whole scheme? And how is he competitive if the point of his plan is to get Diasomnia out of the tournament? Wouldn’t it be truly more “competitive” if he wanted to square up against them anyway?

I would say maybe a more apt point of mirrored traits for Yuuka and Leona are in terms of morality—or, I guess, how far they’re willing to stretch the definition of “playing fair”. Leona is the one that plays loosely, willing to resort to dirty tactics and skirting the rules if it means getting what he wants. Yuuka, however, is more morally upright. She’s keeping her friends out of trouble and stepping up to fight Savanaclaw mobs only when they pose a threat to her. In these ways, she “plays by the book”. As a fellow athlete as well, Yuuka would be able to understand Leona in the struggle to perform and to be seen. Not only that, but they share scars. The reasoning for Leona’s is left unexplained, but Yuuka’s is from a sporting injury. They could totally relate not only in their lived experiences, but by their physical markers.

We’ve only just met Yuuta, so I don’t know if we can draw any definitive conclusions as to how he’s a foil to Azul. However, we can deduce some parallels from his one chapter appearance so far. Both Yuuya and Azul come from restaurants that their respective family operates. Furthermore, Yuuta is and Azul was, overweight. For Azul, this became one of the sources of shame for him. His peers underestimated his competence in part due to his size, and this would later lead to Azul changing a lot about himself to appear “stronger” (including a more restrictive diet in order to maintain his new body). This is not true of Yuuta, who still retains his extra weight and happily chows on food. In fact, I don’t believe weight is even brought up by Yuuta at all. He’s content with his life the way it is, much more chill rather than stoic.

I think another HUGE point that helps Yuuta serve as a foil to Azul is their attitudes on gratitude. Yuuta is thankful for such little things like having food—he even gets mad at Grim for not being thankful for it!! This is a departure from Azul, who, despite running what is basically a wish-granting service, is never satisfied with what he already has. He is always concerned with getting “more”, be it money, influence, information, or abilities robbed from other students. The insecurity especially shows in how he desperately tries to protect his valuable golden contracts with a clever ruse. He keeps collecting and collecting, viewing those physical signifiers (the things he collects) as proof of his “success”.

My prediction for book 3 is 🤔 Azul will definitely see bits of his old self in Yuuta. His old self, whom Azul personally deemed as a weak and inferior version of himself, a version which he has a hard time coming to accept. I don’t think Azul would hate Yuuta or something that extreme, but Azul would feel pity for him and think him pathetic. Going hand-in-hand with the events of book 3, I believe Azul will underestimate Yuuta’s capabilities in the same way that Azul’s old bullies underestimated him when he was little. It would be such a cool parallel because, in this way, we’d get the sense that Azul has become no different than his bullies, pushing around the weak and (arguably just as bad) taking advantage of them for his own gain. And it would ultimately be those traits of Yuuta’s that Azul may have deemed weaknesses of his old self that save the day and get Azul to recognize he’s been living in denial this whole time, thus helping him to better appreciate his old self.

[serve-cunt]

28 or 34 for Lando and Oscar? If it compels you 🦭

feeling for each other in the dark!! compelling...

lando/oscar scene under the cut..

“Oscar.” 

Oscar answered quietly, “I’m here.” They hadn’t been told to stay quiet, but it felt strange to talk at a normal volume. 

“This is fucking— stupid.” 

Oscar didn’t answer. He felt the same. But what could they do? 

“Can you, like, say something? So I know you’re still here.” 

Oscar smiled. “Where would I go?” he asked. “Even if we weren’t locked in, I couldn’t find the door. I can’t see anything.” 

There was a moment of silence, and when Lando spoke again there was a hint of panic in his voice. “We’re locked in?” 

Oscar backtracked hastily. “Er, probably not. I just mean—if we weren’t contractually locked in.” 

Another moment of silence, but when Lando spoke again he sounded a little calmer. “Mate, I never signed any contract that said they could Pavlov’s Dog me.”

Oscar frowned, then laughed. “You’re thinking of the cat. Schrodinger’s.”

“Whatever. How long d’you think we’ll be in here?” 

“Dunno.” 

There was a shifting noise, like Lando was moving around. Oscar put out a wary hand to stop them from colliding. Faintly, he could hear the sound of the Las Vegas grandstands—a roar of applause, dulled by the layers of plastic and plywood between it and his own ears. He hoped the roar meant the first pair of drivers had been revealed: Valtteri and Zhou, released from their own black box. 

“Downside to being first in the constructor standings,” Oscar mused. “They’ll open our box last.” 

“Wish you’d driven a little slower, mate.” 

“Likewise.” 

“Likewise,” Lando mimicked. Oscar glared in his general direction. 

For a few moments they were quiet, listening to the crowd. Somebody was on a mic, shouting over the noise, but Oscar couldn't quite make out the words. Then Lando said, timidly: “Can you, er. Can you—like—move a little closer.” 

Oscar hesitated, then took a small step to the side. “You alright?” 

“Yep,” Lando said, but his voice was strained. “You think they gave us enough oxygen?” 

“I don’t think the boxes are airtight.”

“Yeah, well, I just feel like I can’t breathe? A little?”

Oscar turned, and took another small step. He could feel Lando close by, the warmth of him. They were wearing identical team kit, and it really wasn’t enough; the desert night was freezing, and nobody had thought to put a space heater in the boxes. Or maybe that was a fire hazard. 

“Are you claustrophobic?” 

“No,” Lando said. “I just don't trust Las Vegas to pull this fucked up magic trick off without killing somebody in the process.”

“You can breathe,” Oscar said. “If I can breathe, you can breathe.” 

“Maybe you’re taking up all the oxygen, though,” Lando said. Oscar realized how close they were standing: he could feel the puff of air from Lando’s plosives. “Maybe they didn’t calculate right for two people.” 

There was a second roar, a little louder this time. Williams. Alex and Franco were probably waving to the crowd, blinking in the glare of the Las Vegas neon. Oscar didn’t like how much time there had been between the two waves of applause. They weren’t opening the boxes very quickly, then. 

He tried to think of something to say to get Lando’s mind off the oxygen situation. “Is Martin here this weekend?”

“Stop trying to distract me,” Lando snapped.

Oscar, chagrined, went silent. They stood still for a few moments. Oscar wondered if the rabbitty thump he could hear, very very faintly, was Lando’s heartbeat. 

“Yeah,” Lando said, finally. “He's here. And Max and P, too.” 

“Nice,” Oscar said, relieved. “What are you doing after the race?”

“Dunno,” Lando said. He drew a shallow breath. “Club or something. Maybe just leave.”

“Cool.” There was a thump on the box, which rattled it. Lando drew in another breath, this one quick and sharp. Nothing else happened, or rocked the box, but Lando’s breathing was still fast and shallow. 

Oscar made an executive decision: he reached out blindly for where he assumed Lando’s arm would be. 

Lando yelped.

“Sorry! Sorry, it's me. Obviously.”

“I know that,” Lando snapped. “Just wasn't— expecting it.” He didn't pull away. “What is it?”

“Just making sure we don't bump into each other,” Oscar lied. He ran his hand down Lando’s arm, found his wrist. He wrapped a hand around it, finding Lando’s pulse point. 

“What are you doing?” Lando asked. He sounded wary, nervous.

“Sorry, just— stay still, yeah?” Lando’s pulse was fast, and getting faster. “I’m just making sure I know where you are. I don't want to ram my head into yours if I move.”

“Right.” Lando didn't seem terribly convinced. 

“I know what Lewis had for lunch,” Oscar said. 

“What?” Lando asked, after a long moment. 

“He had a big bowl of coleslaw. With beans on the side. I guess it was the vegan option.”

“Oh.. kay?”

“So,” Oscar said, and waited for Lando to think about it. “George is trapped in a box with him. For at least fifteen minutes.”

It took Lando a few seconds. Then he cackled. “Oh, nasty.”

“Right.” 

“God, poor George.”

“Do you think he’ll say anything?”

“George?” Lando scoffed. “He’ll probably apologize. ‘Oh, sorry Lewis, I’m sure that was me…’”

Oscar grinned. He could feel Lando’s pulse slowing under his thumb. “If you're worried about anybody not surviving this, it should be George. He's being fumigated.” 

Lando cackled again, louder. “Do you think the Grand Prix has insurance for accidentally gassing a driver?” 

“They will after tonight.” 

“Ah, George. Well, he had a good run.” 

“RIP,” Oscar said, solemnly. “Died the way he lived.” 

“Usually it was Alex though…”

By then they were both laughing, and Lando’s pulse had steadied. When they quieted, he still hadn’t pulled away. A third cheer went up finally: this one was probably for Yuki and Liam, third from the bottom in the constructor’s standings. Oscar hoped Liam was enjoying these moments while he had the chance. 

After a moment Oscar shivered, the cold seeping in through his flimsy windbreaker. Lando moved a little closer. “Thanks,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“Just—being the calm one, I guess.” 

Oscar smiled. His own pulse had picked up, rather than slowed. Lando’s wrist was warm in his hand. “No problem.”

[its-time-to-write]

What about Jaime liking someone who works at/owns a flower shop so he keeps making excuses to come in and get flowers? Richmond is real confused about why he’s giving away so many bouquets all of the sudden

(Ps I love love love your work! I’ve got it so I get an alert whenever you post because of how much I love it!)

this one turned out SO CUTE I hope you like it!

wishing on every one

You know you’re fucked as soon as he walks through the door of your shop. 

Then he tells you he’s looking for flowers for his mum who’s visiting him for the first time, and you know you’re extra fucked. 

He’s absolutely gorgeous, especially in the soft light streaming through your flower shop windows, framed by the vibrant hues of the plants lining the shelves.

Then he says, “I’m Jamie,” peers at your name tag, and tells you that you have a lovely name. You’re blushing the entire time you lead him around the shop, answering each one of his questions as best you can without stuttering. He cracks jokes, picks out a nice bunch, and leaves you one flower for yourself on his way out. 

And then, the next week, he comes back. 

Jamie Tartt, AFC Richmond’s star footballer, comes back to your shop and flirts with you again. 

Of course you know who he his, you knew the moment he stepped through the door. You live in Richmond after all, and you agree with the great Dani Rojas that here, football is life. It’s just hard to believe that your favorite footballer is back in your tiny little store and maybe sort of kinda definitely flirting with you.

You don’t let it get to your head (much). It’s Jamie Tartt, you’ve seen him on Lust Conquers All. To him, flirting is like breathing. You also don’t tell anyone, although you feel like you’re bursting inside. Your flat mate notes that you’re smiling more and that you always seem to be humming, and could you please maybe be careful when you’re skipping around because she just mopped the floor and doesn’t want you to slip. 

But Jamie Tartt keeps coming back; first once a week, then twice, then about every other day. He follows you around as you help him choose flowers for all kinds of occasions, and then he’a gone again, leaving you to wonder which time will be the last. 

—

At Nelson Road, things are in chaos. 

Ok, maybe chaos is too strong a word. Things are… out of the ordinary. 

Well, but things have been out of the ordinary ever since Ted Lasso showed up. 

Things are… weird. Yeah, that’s a good word. They’re weird. And “they,” refers to Jamie. 

It starts off simple enough. It's Sam’s birthday, so Jamie shows up with some flowers. He heard Sam say they were his favorites, so it makes sense that he’d bring them. No one notices anything. 

The next week, he’s brought some for Ms. Welton. 

“It’s for all the shit you do that we don’t know about,” he explains. “Didn’t want you to think we didn’t notice.”

Rebecca doesn’t comment on the double negative, just smiles and says, “Thank you, Jamie,” as Keeley sits forward on the couch in a slight state of shock. The Jamie she was with had never done something like that for her romantically, and here he is doing it platonically. Holy shit, he really has changed. 

Rebecca also doesn’t take the flowers to mean something they don’t. She knows that the team looks to her with the same respect they would afford an older sister or even a mother (although she is not old enough). Strangely, she doesn’t mind. It makes her feel loved in a way she’s unused to, and the flowers from Jamie hang upside down on her wall so they can be immortalized. 

Barely a week after that, he’s gotten some for Keeley. “It’s to make up for the ones I never got you,” he tells her. They’re all bright pink with fluffy petals. Keeley wraps her arms around Jamie with a squeal of delight. Roy grunts angrily, so Jamie pulls out a bunch of dark red and black flowers. “Didn’t leave you out, grandad,” he grins as Roy pretends to hate the bouquet. But even he isn’t cold-hearted enough to hate flowers.

Suddenly, people are getting flowers every other day. It’s become Jamie’s thing. Ted gets some sunflowers when he seems like he’s missing home a little extra. Will gets a bunch of sweet-smelling flowers that Jamie doesn’t know the name of, but he knows that purple one’s lavender because he remembers how you told him it reminded you of growing up. Dani gets a bundle of tulips and it almost makes him pass out from excitement, but luckily Isaac is there to catch him. 

Dani is firmly seated on the bench in the locker room and Jan Maas has removed all tulips except one, and now Isaac has the chance to turn to Jamie and ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind. 

“What gives, bruv?”

Those three words make Jamie turn bright red, but he shrugs it off with a laugh. 

“What, can’t get me best mates flowers?”

“It is a little better than the PS5s,” Richard says. There’s a chorus of agreement, much to the surprise of Coach Beard. 

Jamie thinks he’s in the clear and his face isn’t red anymore but then Dani says, “Jamie Tartt, why did you decide to give us flowers and not some other expensive gaming device?” and Jamie knows he’s completely and utterly fucked. He did not think this far. He has no excuse, no lie, so what comes out of his mouth is, “The flower shop girl’s fit,” and then the locker room completely descends into chaos. 

The boys are firing questions at Jamie faster than he can even understand them, and Ted’s just laughing at the pure pandemonium. He remembers similar moments when coaching other football teams, American ones, and the good feeling that comes along with “boys being boys,” in the way the phrase was originally intended. 

All pertinent information is successfully extracted from Jamie before the team heads home, except your name and which flower shop it is. Colin says that’s the most important bit, but Jamie refuses to tell them more than the fact that your laugh makes the sun shine brighter. Isaac nods thoughtfully and Roy shakes his head, but it’s with a fondness he reserves only for his team. 

It could be any shop, really. There are conversations across the parking lot of the best way to figure out which one it is and Jamie’s getting nervous when he hears Ted’s voice call his name.

He turns, and Ted hurries over to where Jamie’s car is parked. 

He carefully places a hand on Jamie’s shoulder (softly, unlike the crushing grip of his father) and looks Jamie straight in the eye. 

“Jamie, life’s too short to beat around the bush. You like her. I think it would be best if you rose to the occasion and just asked her out. I be-leaf in you, son. You just gotta get clover it and do what you gotta do.”

Jamie doesn’t pick on the flower puns until about the third one. He’s laughing a little bit and Ted is too, all while regarding Jamie with a soft look that Jamie always wished his father would give him. Ted pulls Jamie in for a hug and says, “In all seriousness man, we’re rooting for you.” 

Jamie gives him a look, which makes Ted hold up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright, I’m done,” he says. “For now.” Then he winks and headed to meet Coach Beard. 

—

It’s the middle of the afternoon when the bell on your door jingles, and you look up from the register hoping to see Jamie. 

Instead, you see a middle-aged man with a mustache smiling at you. 

He says, “Howdy,” in a way that is so very American, that you can’t help but break into a wide smile. 

“Hi!” you reply, “How can I help you?”

“My name’s Ted Lasso,” he says walking toward you. “I coach football here in Richmond.”

You’re still grinning. “I know who you are, Coach Lasso. I’m a big Richmond supporter. Have been since I was a kid.”

“Just Ted is fine,” says Just Ted. “I usually don’t like to introduce myself along with my job title because it makes me seem all uppity, but I thought it might make more sense if I did.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion so Ted says, “You were expecting to see Jamie today, is that right?”

You nod. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jamie’s coach is in your flower shop and he knows that you like him and he’s probably going to tell you you can never see Jamie again because that’s the only logical reason he’s here, right? Maybe Jamie’s been skipping practice to be here with you and that all has to end now because football is life and you of all people should know that. Shit. 

Ted must be able to see the panic on your face because he shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry darlin’, it ain’t anything bad. I’m only here to let you know that boy’s got it down bad for you.”

Wait, what?

“Oh,” you reply. 

“Yeah, oh,” Ted chuckles. “Why’d you think he was here all the time?”

“I- I don’t know,” you say. “He flirts with everyone. I’m nothing extra special.”

Ted shakes his head again. “There’s where you’re wrong. You’re somethin’ extra special. Did you know I found you based on the way Jamie talked about you alone? He didn’t even give your name, but I’ve been in here once or twice myself and I must say, he was right when he said the sun shines a little brighter when you smile. I figured it had to be you the moment he said that.”

You’re smiling again. Jamie said that about you? To his coach?

Ted’s talking again. “Listen,” he says, a little more serious, “Jamie’s like a son to me. And sometimes dads need to give their sons a little push so they can get rid of their training wheels and just go for it, you know what I mean?” 

You’re at a loss but Ted just grins. “I got here exactly three minutes before the boys take a break for lunch, which means that Jamie should be in here-” the bell at the door jingles “-right about now.”

“Coach?” Jamie asks, looking very adorable and very confused. “What’re you doing here?”

Ted shrugs. “Sometimes dads gotta take things into their own hands. Give you a little extra boost, as it were. Figured you’d be in here forever before you got the guts to make a move and by then Nelson Road would be completely overrun by flowers. Not that that’s a bad thing,” he says with a glance to you. “Anyway. I’ll be on my merry little way. Beard’s saving me a seat at our favorite lunch spot.”

Ted waves a two finger goodbye and pats Jamie on the shoulder as he heads out the door, bell ringing behind him. 

“So,” you say, making your way around the counter over to Jamie. 

“So…” he replies, looking down at you. 

You take his hand. “Heard from a reliable source that you have a crush on me.”

Jamie grins. “Ain’t a crush babe, I’m a grown lad.  Think it’s somethin’ a little more real.”

“Uh huh,” you say, smiling back at him. “Well it just so happens that I also have a crush on you as well as a thirty-minute lunch break that starts right about now…”

[kunikame]

in your system, even pluto is a planet. - i. mao

warnings : mostly mao centric, gender neutral, astral ref (my trademark trust), my formal apology to all maoPs for redamancy

w/c : 889

isara mao has always been second best.

it is how he spent most of his life, it is what he’s ultimately used to. he knows he would never be first– he knows he's not good enough to be first.

those are the facts, the truths he’s had to abide by since he was a child. no matter how hard he tried, there was always someone who was, simply put, better.

yet to accept a truth is easier than to stop hoping he could one day break the cycle.

he’s reminded of this once more as he watches his unit-mates work on their next choreography. as a friend first and unit-mate second, he will always be proud of them, will always support them and help make them shine if he can.

that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. 

watching them so easily become what he’s always wished he could be. isara mao is well aware he could never sparkle like they do.

as it turns out, he’s the only ‘trick’, whereas the other 3 are the ‘star’.

to accept it is slightly different than it is to continue fighting it.

and that’s where you come in.

while anzu may be their primary manager, she’s been kept busy by other units recently, so to keep trickstar functioning properly in her absence, you’ve been assigned to help them out instead.

mao wouldn’t exactly call it love at first sight (though makoto yuuki would beg to differ)– he simply has good intuition when it comes to people. he just knew you’re a good person, so he stuck close to you. that’s all.

all was well at first.

you helped them out wherever you could, gave them useful advice and even basically collaborated on the choreography. what caught mao off guard however, was that you tried your best to focus on all of them equally. you gave all of them the time of day when they needed it, without any reservations or excuses. if makoto had a question, you would answer it, and if mao needed help the moment after, you would immediately be by his side.

it was weird, to be treated like a voluntary choice.

then suddenly you no longer had time for mao. 

makoto, subaru, hokuto. subaru, makoto, hokuto. hokuto, makoto, subaru.

never mao.

and he doesn’t understand why. 

he doesn’t remember doing anything to upset you, so why?

have you simply realized he’s not good enough to be a choice?

sitting on a random staircase in yumenosaki, the redhead swirled his can of coke as he let out yet another helpless sigh.

he couldn’t even ask ritsu for help, he’d just fall asleep halfway through the story. perhaps it’s for the best if he doesn’t say anything at all. just suck it up and stick it out till the end, as always. deal with it.

for so long he’s associated himself with venus– with it being the second planet from the sun and all– he forgot to think that, maybe, he was just pluto all along.

with the final sigh of his short pity party, he threw the can in the nearest bin and made his way back to the studio. just a bit more practice and perhaps he’ll finally get closer to the others. 

the door opens before him and you’re standing there, eyes wide and mouth gaping, as if you’re seeing him for the first time (he probably doesn’t look much different though, he thinks).

“mao! i was just about to go look for you! the others have left already so i finally have time for you, i’m so sorry i’ve been pushing it off for so long, there was always just.. something. the lights broke and the–” you paused to let out a quick breath, shoulders relaxing for the first time this week, “you know what, whatever, doesn’t matter. i can finally take care of your concerns, so out with them!”

you step away from the doorway to let him in, but he just stands there dumbfounded.

“..mao?”

“... so you– you weren’t ignoring me? like, without reason?”

“what? no! i would never do that!” you looked genuinely distraught and now he feels bad for ever thinking so because yeah, you would never do that (or would you?), he’s just too used to people doing it (way too used, a voice in his head chuckles).

“oh,” he breathes, then steps into the studio.

“if it were up to me i would’ve dropped everything to cater to your needs, but the spotlight that was supposed to be on your position broke, so i made that my priority,” oh, “i’m sorry if i made you feel unimportant, i should’ve discussed it with you first..”

“n-no! no, no it’s fine. you’re fine. .. thank you. for-for doing that for me. and i’m sorry, too, i shouldn’t have assumed..”

you smile at him and he thinks not even the sun is worthy of you. 

it may be the center of the solar system, where pluto is not even a planet and where venus is second– but in the system isara mao sees you as the center of, perhaps he was mercury all along. if he is to crash and burn and suffer incineration in the long run, it may just be a worthy sacrifice.

at least he will no longer be second best.

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @ibaraluvr @venusflwers @thesapphirecake @yakshalea @mahouwoageru @kazemiya @menhwa-pdf @chalksdreams @gabirii @myunghology @solxima //ask/comment or fill form to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)