#not me though i'll never stop telling the TRUTH
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straw-hat-nakama-22 · 3 days ago
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Snipits from fics I'll never finish part 3
“Sanji?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re lying. You said you wouldn’t do that anymore.” Luffy said. Sanji felt his stomach drop and guilt roll through him.
What, suddenly you can’t be a liar anymore? You’ve never been anything else. You’ve been lying to the crew since you met them and now you have the gall to feel bad about it?
“I’m fine.”
“Tell the truth.”
“You don’t want the truth.” He said, slamming down the frying pan and throwing aside his dishcloth. It was the most disrespect he’d ever shown kitchen tools but he was so full of feelings that he couldn’t actually identify any of them. “You want a lie that’s easier to believe.”
He said it with vitriol but none of it was directed at Luffy. Had he ever been fully honest with them? Aside from the one time it’d been beaten out of him?
Zoro growled,
“You’ve got no right talking to the Captain like that. Especially not after everything you’ve pulled.”
I know.
“Swordsman...” Robin cautioned.
“You weren’t even there. You have no idea what happened.” Sanji grit. And maybe that hurt a little. Even though part of him wished no one from the crew had come for him, the fact that some of them hadn’t... How selfish and hypocritical was that? The ones that didn’t come, that had judged something else was more important than his freedom and his life, were the ones that were right. And the one’s he’d fooled into thinking his life was worth something, he’d rewarded with violence and condescension.
“How could I?! You haven’t told us anything! Are we Nakama or not!?”
“Please stop it.” Chopper warbled. Nami stayed silent, holding her arm and looking away.
“Zoro.” Robin repeated.
“You don’t want to kn-”
“We deserve to know!”
“Fine! How much truth are you entitled to exactly!? The truth is my rotten old family was going to wipe you and the Baratie off the face of the map if I didn’t go along with a marriage to a stranger who, by the way, was planning to kill me! Or the truth that saving me from being an unfeeling monster like my brothers killed my mother. That I was trained to kill from birth?! That I shamed and disappointed my father so much by being a weak, useless human that he faked my death and locked me away when I was seven?! What about how the second they got me back out was into a lab to poke around and see if they could fix me! How about this truth?! From here on out I’m nothing but a liability to this crew! Anywhere we go, the stain of my infamous family name is going to follow! Or what about this? Luffy never should have saved me. I should have just died there. I should have died in the cradle before I could do any damage to anyone. There’s your truth, second mate.” Sanji turned to look at them, eyes glassy, face red, chest heaving. Chopper was sobbing behind his hooves. Robin and Nami were muffling there sobs as well. Luffy was crying and furious at the same time and Sanji hated it. Hated all of it. Hated the way brook was sat in the corner of the room leaning on his cane and looking away. Hated how Franky and Jimbe looked ready to kill somebody. Hated that Usopp looked so lost and small. He glared at Zoro, whose eyes were wide with shock and disbelief. “Well? Is this what they deserved? Do feel satisfied, now.” Zoro’s expression didn’t change. He was still looking at Sanji like he’d been impaled.
Sanji felt his shoulder’s drop. What did it matter if they knew anyway? I was going to change anything. They didn’t want him around before, they wouldn’t want him around now. It might even be for the best. Now they’d convince Luffy to let him go. He turned and left the galley. 
His legs, arms, and torso still ached, but he needed a cold plunge. He leapt over the edge of the Sunny, away from the warm, phantom arms trying to pull him back, and dove into the water. This time, no matter how long he swam, the pain in his body never surpassed the pain in his heart.
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thelostconsultant · 3 months ago
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Soft launch vs. hard launch
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
type: smau
summary: Oscar and Logan are very protective of you, so you and Charles have to get through them before making your relationship public.
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liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc and 35,133 others
yourusername: I wanted to start the day at the gym, but someone knows the way to my heart ☕ logansargeant ❤️
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user1: You’re in Belgium? On an F1 race weekend?
↳ user2: Can’t wait for the posts about her shenanigans with Logan. 
oscarpiastri: And where’s my coffee?
↳ logansargeant: Get your own.
↳ oscarpiastri: Good to know I can count on my friend.
↳ yourusername: Stop flirting under my post! It will be flooded with shippers in seconds. 
↳ logansargeant: Shhhh, don’t tell him.
↳ oscarpiastri: Tell me what?
↳ yourusername: Nothing. 
↳ oscarpiastri: I hate you both.
↳ oscarpiastri: And see you at the track.
user3: I love these three. They should do a podcast together during the break. 
user4: I wonder who’s dating who. 
↳ user5: It’s a poly relationship, I’m calling it now. 
↳ yourusername: Wrong. 
↳ user4: Then what’s the truth? The suspense is killing us!!!!
↳ yourusername: 🤷‍♀️
charles_leclerc: Photos I can taste in my mouth...
↳ oscarpiastri: What?
↳ charles_leclerc: Her coffee.
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liked by oscarpiastri, vancityreynolds and 673,677 others
yourusername: So you wanna know what’s my favorite position? Here, now you know (credit to Debbie Ridpath Ohi)
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logansargeant: Look, there’s Oscar! 😼
↳ oscarpiastri: Haha…
user6: Sometimes I look at her weird posts and I have to remind myself what an amazing fashion model she is beside everything else she does.
user7: You should have taken a photo of yourself doing that. Preferably in a short skirt. 
↳ user8: Dude, gross, fuck off!
↳ logansargeant: Yeah, fuck off.
↳ user9: I love how Logan always shows up to tell assholes off. 
charles_leclerc: Guess the interview didn’t go as planned.
↳ yourusername: Never again. You were right.
↳ oscarpiastri: Wait, what interview?
↳ logansargeant: Hello? Care to answer your phone? 
↳ yourusername: Chill, boys, it’s ok. Already had my rant session with someone. 
↳ charles_leclerc: Anytime.
user10: When did this happen? Can’t remember Charles ever commenting under her posts. 
↳ user11: He has left comments before, but I gotta agree that he’s been suspiciously active lately.
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liked by yourusername, heidiklum and 291,329 others
charles_leclerc: Thank you for having me, verawang, I had a good time. Anyway, what do you think, would this one look good on me?
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user12: Considering how often he interacts with yourusername on social media, I'm not even surprised to see he happened to pick her photo.
logansargeant: You're talking about the clothes, right? Because if you're not talking about the clothes, we will have to talk.
↳ charles_leclerc: Am I in trouble?
↳ oscarpiastri: After writing, "would this one look good on me?" Yeah, you are. Pervert.
↳ charles_leclerc: I'll send you to your room, son.
↳ logansargeant: Pulling the adoption card? Tsk, you can't pull that on me. Confess.
yourusername: *pulls out the popcorn*
↳ logansargeant: Put that down, I sent you a message.
↳ yourusername: No.
↳ user13: LOL, I love that she's only here for the chaos.
user14: Charles, what's going on between the two of you? This is suspicious.
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,754 others
charles_leclerc: Our first kiss captured by the one and only danielricciardo. #tbt
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user15: Soft launch on this average Thursday? Who is she?
user16: HOLY SHIT IS THIS YOURUSERNAME??????
↳ user17: This photo is so dark, how could you possibly tell?
↳ user16: Trust me, I'd recognize her anywhere. (Don't ask how.)
↳ oscarpiastri: I'd like to ask though.
↳ logansargeant: It's definitely concerning.
danielricciardo: You're welcome.
↳ logansargeant: Why are you randomly taking photos of other people making out?
↳ danielricciardo: I have a natural talent to recognize historical moments.
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,932 others
yourusername: Someone came home from the party with a fake beard and fell asleep with it still on his face. No kiss for you until you get rid of it.
tagged: charles_leclerc
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user18: Are you a "soft launch by Charles" son or a "hard launch by Y/N" daughter?
↳ user19: And she hard launched it with this? She's so chaotic, I love her. She could've chosen some sweet photo, but instead she chose this.
user16: I told you all it's her. I knew it!
logansargeant: If you ever want to complain about him, you know where to find me.
↳ oscarpiastri: And me. I'm ready to trash talk my father.
↳ charles_leclerc: Thanks for the vote of confidence.
user20: Not Max liking this. Dude, just follow Charles!
oscarpiastri: Okay, reacting to Charles's photo now that you made this public: Keep it PG!
↳ yourusername: Osc, don't freak out, that's just a kiss.
↳ logansargeant: Yeah, but the rules.
↳ charles_leclerc: That's a photo, it's not happening in front of you.
↳ oscarpiastri: It was on my screen, so now it's burned into my brain.
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blindmagdalena · 5 months ago
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Night Terrors
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1.6k homelander x reader. established relationship. pure comfort fic. remaster of this old prompt. very mild spoilers for s4 if you squint. mostly just wanted to self-soothe with some comfort/cuddle fic. gif credit.
It's been decades since Homelander last stepped foot in The Bad Room, but when he wakes from a nightmare of it in your shared bed, it's as if he never left.
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Most of the nights you spend with Homelander are peaceful. 
Tonight is not most nights.
The scream that wakes you from a dead sleep is guttural, barely human. Homelander is sitting upright, frenzied and wild-eyed, the ocean blue of them obscured by crimson glow. You're not even sure that he sees you through it when he looks at you. He's panting like he just ran a marathon, and the comforter is ripped cleanly in half, the two sides strewn on either side of him. "John," you call softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he jerks away from your hand like you've burned him. "Don't fucking touch me," he hisses, wrapping his arms around himself. Sometimes he is small during these fits, curled in on himself, begging you to make it stop. Not tonight. Tonight he is another self, spitting rage and violence through remembered agony. A cornered animal. "I'll fucking kill you!" "John," you say again, pleading. You know he isn't talking to you. He's speaking to the ghosts of his past. "You're in our bed. You're with me. I would never hurt you. I love you, John." His name is a double-edged sword. It cuts clean through to something at the core of him in a way that “Homelander” doesn’t. Each use of it acts like a shock to his irregulated system.
You keep your hands outstretched, but you don't touch him. You show him that you aren't holding anything. Not a pen, not a notepad, not a needle. You show that you don't mean him any harm. 
God knows he's suffered enough. With the sound of your voice, the red glow of his eyes gradually dims, flickers, and then finally it goes out entirely. He's still panting, hands moving slowly down his arms, his torso, checking himself for injury. Though his body bears no scars of the pain he’s endured, his mind knows exactly where each one of them would be. Bit by bit, you watch him come back to himself. He looks around the room, taking in the evidence of your truth. Framed photos, décor, the life you’ve built together. It isn't a concrete dungeon. It isn’t a lab. It isn’t an incinerator. It's home. "Fuck," he says quietly, hiccupping the word into his palm. He says it again, louder, screwing his glassy eyes shut. The third time he says it, it's nearly a sob. It’s agony to wait, but you don’t touch him before he’s ready. You fist the bedsheets, you don’t stop talking. I’m here. I’m right here. I love you. You’re safe. You’re not sure if it’s minutes or seconds before he reaches for you. All you know is you act immediately. You move swiftly up on your knees, climbing over the ruined blankets to take him into your arms, pulling his head to rest against your chest, bringing his ear close to the beat of your heart. You hush him while you work to unstick the words from your throat, unable to help the tears that well in your eyes.
The fear and misery in him is so palpable, you nearly feel as if it’s your own. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, pulling you to sit sideways in his lap as he weeps against you. It's taken a long time to reach this point. He used to swallow it back like bile, adamant for the longest time that you not see this side of him, this aspect of himself that he thinks ugly, imperfect, broken. You fought for this. As you hold him through these bone-deep sobs, it shatters you that it's taken him this long for him to find someone who would. "You're safe," you whisper, battling to keep the tears from your voice. "You're home. You're with me. You're safe. I love you so, so much." He rocks back and forth, choking on his sobs. “I could feel it,” he tells you, the words barely escaping the clench of his teeth. “It hurt. Every second of it, and they just–they all just watched.”
You close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks and disappearing into the softness of his hair. You kiss the crown of his head again and again, combing your fingers through his hair where it’s damp with sweat and your own tears. “You’re safe now,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. It isn’t enough, but these words and touches are all you have to offer him against the torment of his childhood.
His grip on you tightens. It wouldn’t take much for him to snap you in half.
That scare you? He’d asked you once. How easily I could break you?”
No, you admitted. It makes me appreciate how hard you try not to. It takes time for his breathing to even out. His hold softens, but he doesn't relinquish you. For as terrible as the nightmares are, it's the shame he experiences in the aftermath that often requires the most care. 
You rub firm circles on his back with one hand while cradling the back of his head with the other, trailing butterfly kisses along his temple, his forehead, down to his cheek. Any part of him you can reach, you kiss, murmuring quiet assurances in between, as if to imbue him with each word. Eventually, the rocking stops. He's breathing more steadily now, arms encircled firmly around your waist. He gives a shaking sigh. "Sorry," he whispers, voice strained. That's a word in his vocabulary that rarely comes up, but when it does, it is always drenched in shame. He hates himself for this. "Don't," you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. You sniff back your tears, letting out a breath. "I asked for this. I begged you for this," you emphasize, earnest. You cup his face, angling him to look up at you. "Let me do this for you. Please. You have nothing to be ashamed of." He stares at you with large, watery blue eyes. The whites are red, strained by the force of his grief, his durability tested only by his own power. In his gaze you see damage done to him that may never heal, but your words settle over invisible scars like a soothing balm. It’s that very look of vulnerability that has driven you to this depth of love. You know his violence, his viciousness, but so too do you know the fragile man it protects.
Most of all, the scared boy beneath it all.
His grip on you flexes, his jaw clenched. The nature of your insight into him is both a blessing and a curse to him. He cannot hide from you. You know his shame, and despite how deeply he needs your compassion, your understanding, it’s something he has to bleed for every time. He’s perpetually torn between his desperation to be your perfect hero, and his soul-deep yearning to be safely vulnerable. 
If you have to, you'll spend the rest of your life convincing him that he can have both.
Finally, his shoulders sag. "I love you," he says, quietly defeated by your warmth. "I'll never hurt you. Ever." You recognize the plea in his words. He's terrified that someday it will be too much. You’ll see what everyone else sees, and your love will be tainted–destroyed–by your inevitable fear of him. You hope one day that he’ll understand why that will never happen. Someday the depths of your love will soak in as deep as the misery of his past, and he’ll be able to forgive himself for the human way his god’s heart bleeds. "I know. I know that.” You kiss the top of his head, still rubbing his back, taking your hand away only to swipe the tears from your face. “I love you, too. Every part of you."
Even the parts you hate. Gingerly, he lifts you just enough to lay you back down on the bed. He wastes no time cuddling back in against you, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. The bedding is ruined, but he runs warm enough that you hardly notice the absence of cover while he’s holding you. Your legs tangle with his, bodies slotting together easily. He nuzzles as if he can worm his way closer than skin to skin. If you could, you’d open your ribcage to welcome him inside. He could eat your heart if it kept his beating another day.
"Will you... talk me to sleep?" He asks, threads of shame lingering in the request. The tension has drained away, leaving him vulnerable and exhausted. His blinks are slow, the curve of his lips mournful. "Of course," you whisper, smoothing your hand up and down his back. This isn’t the first time you’ve talked him back to sleep, and you doubt it’ll be the last. Sometimes you tell him the plot of a book as best you can recall, other times it's random anecdotes from your life. Sometimes it's complete nonsense. To him, it doesn't matter what you say. All that matters is that when he does finally drift back into sleep, it's your voice that safeguards him there. 
Gladly, he rests his head back down on your chest, closing his eyes with a rumbling sigh while your nails drag along his scalp. You cradle him there, savoring the warmth of him as it seeps into the marrow of your bones, the weight of him grounding you.
You tell him stories until sleep finds him. Even then, you continue to speak until your voice frays and you can no longer keep your eyes open. You speak and speak and speak hoping that somehow, in some small way, you can help make up for the years he spent with only his own voice for comfort.
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peachsukii · 4 months ago
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The shower is a safe space for you to cry, to drain all of the pent up emotion you've held onto. Plus, it's the best place to hide this side of you from your roommate, Bakugo, whom you've had a crush on for ages. You did your damndest to hide your sorrow from him, not because you're ashamed, but you didn't want to sour the mood of the apartment. You two were good friends, you didn't need to bring down the vibe by whining about how sad you are.
You don't hear the front door to your apartment open and him announcing he's home like usual. He's not supposed to be home for hours, but unexpectedly got off of work early. The sound of the water hides his presence from you; however, it doesn't mute the sobs coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
His heart drops into his stomach, he's never heard you cry like that before.
Bakugo rushes to the door and hesitates. Maybe you wanted to be alone, but he couldn't just sit in the apartment and wait for you to stop crying. Would it be better to sit on the couch and wait it out? For you to come to him?
Logically, yes.
But he wasn't thinking logically.
He taps his knuckles against the door a few times.
"Hey, y'okay?" Bakugo calls out, waiting for your answer with baited breath. He hears you gasp, sniffling and coughing before composing yourself.
"Oh...I didn't think you'd be home, Kat. I'm fine."
"You're a shit liar, y'know," he teases, but you don't laugh. "Seriously, though. Are you okay?"
You hold your breath, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. Your answer slips out before you could stop yourself.
"...No."
It's a split second decision, but Bakugo opens the door and barges into the bathroom. He's rips back the shower curtain and carefully steps in behind you in a hurry, fully clothed, ignoring your obvious shock to his assertiveness. You're trying to shield yourself from him seeing you naked, but that all fades away when you feel his body engulf yours, holding you close against him under the stream of water.
He's so...warm.
"You can always tell me when somethin's wrong. Don't think I can't tell, or that I don't hear you cryin' at night. I don't want ya to hide from me," Bakugo whispers above you, hand holding the back of your head against his chest. "You're not alone, sweetheart."
You have no control over the tears rushing down your cheeks, mixing with the hot water and soaking into his clothes. You're shaking as you snake your arms around his waist and grip onto him for dear life.
No one's ever shown you this kind of support before - this kind of love.
"I got ya," he assures as he squeezes you tightly. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."
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hairmetal666 · 3 months ago
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After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:
Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.
He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum
Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.
The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?
It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--
Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--
No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.
And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.
Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.
"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.
"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.
Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."
"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.
Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"
"Horror? Nothing in particular."
They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.
Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.
"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."
And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.
As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.
"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.
"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.
"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."
"It's nothing."
"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."
"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."
"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."
He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--
Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.
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astonmartinii · 8 months ago
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it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader
face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()
they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though
note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS
charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(
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user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???
user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)
maxverstappen1: not on my watch
charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments
maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES
charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?
maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen
yourusername: too right i am
charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?
maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't
yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz
user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n
user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS
user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess
lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?
yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL
charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that
lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game
yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it
lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡
user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE
user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?
user9: ugh what a bore
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,402,667 others
tagged: chelseafcw
yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))
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user10: treble or nothing I BEG
user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script
alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience
yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her
alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P
yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3
alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?
charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second
yourusername: as he should.
user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?
user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants
user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal
charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good
maxverstappen1: i'm right here?
sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?
danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself
yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good
charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻
user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts
user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions
yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH
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f1
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liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,205,489 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername
f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!
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user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x
yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3
charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl
yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent
charles_leclerc: errrrr
samkerr20: i think you broke him lol
yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me
charles_leclerc: no!
scuderiaferrari: huh?
charles_leclerc: wait...
yourusername: i see :(
charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT
user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)
user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now
samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it
yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he
niamhcharles17: i guess?
alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf
yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?
lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES
alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln
yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨
alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?
yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex
user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates
charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)
yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex
charles_leclerc: yes!
alexalbon: boo you whore
yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨
samkerr20
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 303,445 others
tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc
samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute
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user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute
user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles
yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter
samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings
charles_leclerc: consider them hurt
samkerr20: boo hoo
yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx
charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx
yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me
charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(
yourusername: you are the bestest boy
samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG
oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship
danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up
oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely
maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while
yourusername: we're right here
landonorris: let us commiserate in peace
charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?
landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy
charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT
user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts
yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,529,556 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means
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user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?
user26: for real
charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here
yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)
chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!
yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)
charles_leclerc: not even for me?
chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW
yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?
chelseafcw: .... yes
user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc
user28: no point even showing up
maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me
yourusername: i am a woman of the people
charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her
maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that
yourusername: we're also hot
charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max
maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡
user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them ����
user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket
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charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)
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user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does
user34: setting the example tbf
yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx
charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭
yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning
charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?
yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing
redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊
charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N
yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say
charles_leclerc: ....
yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???
charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!
yourusername: whoops
user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat
yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...
user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts
chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)
charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)
yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie
chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others
yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job
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user41: she really be out here doing it all
user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME
user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE
charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you
yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all
charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world
yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?
charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything
user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE
alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good
yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn
alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded
lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL
yourusername: I KNEW IT
charles_leclerc: i still cried more
alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love
yourusername: that we are
charles_leclerc
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess
view all comments
user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?
user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)
user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans
user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win
user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure
yourusername: you know it 🫡
maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend
charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care
yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS
maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?
yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first
charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing
maxverstappen1: gross
user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)
landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast
yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can
charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love
landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then
fin.
note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.
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moechies · 2 months ago
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ee a little thought about shidou nii-- so please leave if you're not abt that!! :3
cw inc3st, sisbro, anal, dubcon, noncon
shidou nii who merely shrugs in a disappointing demeanor when he finally gets to mount you, dedicated to fuckin' that pretty cunny. but you tell him that you want to stay abstinent for your lover with big bulbous tears if your eyes, shaky hands coming up to wipe away the tears with the little dignity in your chest.
you'd never want to dissapoint him, but you have to be truthful this time he lets you have it! although he's clad against your chest, body laid atop of yours and fingers running through your soft pink hair. he hates how you're flinching under his touch-- it's unusual to him.
"fine, whatever." he grumbles, a low pout on his face. but the slight glint that shows through his pink irises show that he isn't going to let you off this easily, especially without something in return first. even up til this moment, you knew that about shidou.
"y'r gonna let me fuck your pretty ass though, ain't'cha?" he giggles when your vision suddenly pans to him, a cold shudder down your back.
"shidou nii--" he's quick to pull you down, propping up his legs and butt high, your thighs laying against his and your calves pliant against his shoulders. "let me have this, since ya won't let me take yer cunt's virginity." you mewl under his touch, scrambling with a loud whine when he tugs off your shorts, but keeps your panties instilled.
it's not unusual for him to-- he's one to normally press his burly fingers down your panties and thumb at your clit, fingers deep in your cunt, as well as shoving his pretty face inbetween your supple thighs for a feast, or just for a nuzzling huff of your crotch. but you didn't think he'd intiatate more; perhaps you were a little out of it when you believed so. maybe it was because of the two fingers he had in your cunt while he nibbled at your swollen clit.
"nii-nii! stop it--" he groans when you whine, ignoring the incessant pushes at his head when he's clearly enjoying himself below, huffing at your sweet scent. "y'r so gross, stop it ryuseiiii!"
he palms himself through his black shorts, the chub of his cock obviously visible nonetheless of the relatively thick fabric. "not fair, don't ya love me most? i should be the one yer givin' it to. but it's cause you're my lil imouto-- i'll be nice this once, 'kay?" shidou grins, tugging your panties off in a swift move and setting his eyes on the puckered hole below your chubby, slicked-up, pussy.
"cute." he whistles, thumbs spreading at the glimmering hole. it's unusual for him to ignore the sight if your irresistable cunt, but it's all apart of the fun to him-- maybe if you've had enough, you'll ask him to fuck you there too.
"r--ryu," you cry, pushing away at his thick forearms. "s--so embarrasin,' please,"
"shush, sis." he grumbles, tugging his cock out of his shorts. it seems thicker this time, despite his size already. it's fat enough that his fingers almost don't touch while taking ahold of the shaft, and it's a tad darker than his arms skin-tone. his tip is a pretty blush of red, and his tip spills with pre-cum non-stop. the contrast of the pearlescent creme compared to the blushed tip is a gorgeous sight-- and you would've never guessed that he was embarrassed of it to some extent. "not gonna prep ya, just take it. it counts as a punishment, 'kay?"
"no!" you stutter, "please, ryu-- i need it, please, please p-prep it, i never had anythin' in there before nii-nii!" you stammer incessantly, in hopes that your sweet begs and big puppy eyes will enamor him enough to give you some mercy.
but he simply shrugs, pressing his wet tip against the puckered hole stretched by his thumbs,
"the tighter the better."
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wondersinwaynemanor · 4 months ago
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i think there's an act for thinking that the batkids lie, making up stories all because Dick told the Teen Titans when they were kids that Bruce Wayne is Batman. so when they tell the truth, the others think they are straight up lying.
Dick: Little Wing is back! He's Red Hood.
Donna: Here we go again.
Gar: Nice one, Dick. But nah.
Wally, pouts and hugs him: Hey, I know you miss your brother. It's okay, Dick.
Dick returns the hug regardless.
Roy: Nah, cus Red Hood is built like a brick. By the way, I have to say it, he's hot as fuck.
Dick: Heyy, that's my brother you're talking about!
Donna: The last time we saw Jason, he was tiny and so adorable.
Raven: And he wasn't violent at all.
Dick, whines: I know but trust me, Red Hood is Jason.
Kory touches Dick's forehead to check if he has a fever after he hit his head during a mission.
---
Jason: I'm living with Roy and I'm going to adopt Lian.
Artemis: Really? The Big, Bad Red Hood?
Bizarro: You and Roy? You adopting little girl?
Kory shakes her head, patting Jason's head.
Jason: Why are you all looking at me like I'm making up bullshit?
Roy: We're getting married, live with it!
---
Tim: I'm missing my spleen.
Cassie: That's crap!
Bart: Ha, not funny, Rob. That's not crash.
Kon: Really? How come you're alive then?
Tim, rolls his eyes: Cus it's just my spleen.
Cassie, Bart and Kon look at each other and laugh.
Cassie: Reminds me of that time when you told us you're straight.
Kon: That was funnier though.
---
Cass: I killed.
Steph stops eating.
Babs stops typing on her computer.
Steph: We're waiting for the punch line, babe.
Cass: Not a joke.
Steph and Babs exchange looks, before shrugging and continuing their tasks.
Steph: I could kiss you right now, but I'll do it after I'm eating.
Cass rolls her eyes, but she's smiling.
---
Duke: I'm a meta.
Daxton: Whaaat?
Duke: You heard me.
Izzy: How come you never told me about this?
Riko: Cus he's obviously lying.
Izzy: Besides, doesn't Batman only have human kids or?
Duke: Doesn't mean me being a meta isn't true.
Daxton: Uh, anyways... Let's get some burgers!
Duke is getting ready to show his powers, when Izzy holds his hand and he just shuts up on cue.
---
Damian: I'm gonna call my dragon bat.
Jon: DRAGON BAT????
Damian: We need back up. And he's the best one.
Jon: Why didn't you tell me you have a dragon bat???
Damian tts.
Jon: Don't tell me you have a dragon rat too.
Damian: Do they exist is the question.
Jon: You're so funny, Dames.
Damian: I wasn't telling a joke, Jonathan.
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justauthoring · 1 year ago
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Just to be Enough [1]
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a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo -> this part: what if geto had called you that night?
a/n: this will more or less just be a collection of different one shots of potential moments of a relationship with geto and gojo. sometimes the plotline might change :)
pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader
read the other parts here: one - two - three - four
-
His hands were shaking.
Part of you thought yours were as well.
You weren’t sure what to say – what was there to say? Being awoken by a call from Geto at three in the morning certainly wasn’t how you’d expected your day off to start; nor was the shakiness of Geto’s voice something you’d ever expected to hear. He was always confident, in your many years of knowing him that was something you’d come to expect – the unwavering confidence that both him and Gojo displayed no matter where they were, what they were talking about or what was happening.
He’d sounded afraid and distressed and on the brink of… you weren’t even sure what. Your heart pounded with fear of just exactly what.
Two girls. That’s all he’d manage to utter. Something about two little girls, locked and beaten and… his voice was twisted with something terribly painful and he was breathing heavily, words mixing together with his panic. You swear you’ve never called for Ijichi so quickly, now in a state yourself; enough that you hadn’t even had the politeness to feel sorry for waking the poor man up so early and abruptly.
It was when you were in the back seat of the car that you called Gojo.
“Something’s wrong with Suguru.”
“...what’s wrong?”
He’s away on a mission of his own. Just like he always was nowadays. It had been hard on your relationship, always missing one piece to make you all whole; but you understood, just like you understood that Geto was called on just as many missions. It was something you’d long ago come to terms with if you were going to be with the two strongest sorcerers, and you had no doubt about what that meant in terms of being physically with them.
Perhaps he’d answered, despite being on a mission, so quickly because, like you, he’d noticed the steady decline of Geto over the past few months like you had. Noticed but deflected every time you’d tried to ask. You’re a sorcerer yourself, and while you might not be as strong as them or sent on as many missions, you know the strain it puts on one's well being. You see it in yourself, in them, in your friends. 
It seems Gojo did as well.
And, if truth be told, not a single one of you had made it out of that mission last year the same.
It had taken you a second to reply, mainly because you weren’t sure how to. “I don’t know,” you confessed with a choked breath, “he just called me, said he found two girls. Satoru, they’d been locked in a cage, starving and with bruises all over them. I tried to get him to calm down enough to tell me where he was. But he sounded…. wrong.”
There’s an echoing pause, then; “you’re on your way now?”
You nod, even though he can’t see. “Yeah.”
“Okay, I'll be there.”
You hear the sound of him pulling away, as if to hang up; you can’t stop yourself from crying; “Toru!”
There’s a moment of silence before you hear him respond, rather softly; “yeah?”
“I’ve never heard him sound like that, Toru. I’m scared about what I’ll find when I get there.”
It feels wrong to admit – why would you be scared to see Geto? A boy you’ve loved since you’d first walked into class on your first day at Jujutsu Tech and laid eyes on him? But you are, terribly so; your hearts racing and it feels like you can’t breathe the closer and closer you get. You don’t know how to help – that was the whole issue of it all; how? How can you help him? How can you make it better?
What if you didn’t?
“I’m gonna be home soon, okay, Y/N/N?” Gojo whispers, gently; so opposite of how he normally sounds. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Just get him home.”
You nod, once again, “okay,” you whisper.
“I love you.”
“Love you too, Toru.”
You’re pulled up next to Geto ten minutes after that.
He’s standing there, the jacket of his uniform taken off, left bare in his white button up and slacks. When your eyes flicker lower, to the two little girls standing beside him, you find his jacket wrapped around the two of them; big enough to envelop them fully, huddled together. As you pull up beside him, stopping just in front, you first notice the girls; bruises and scuffs marked all over their skin, what little clothing they have on them ripped, dirty and clearly old, and then you see their big, wide, afraid eyes staring back at your own and your heart breaks.
When you raise your gaze, you meet Geto’s. He’s already staring at you, but his expression is blank; like he’s staring right through you.
You send a nod Ijichi’s way before opening the door, slipping out into the cool night air.
The girls are watching you carefully, shuffling closer to Geto, clearly scared of you, and as you stand fully, letting the door shut gently behind you not to scare them, you glance at Geto just briefly before crouching, so you’re at eye-level with the girls.
“My name’s Y/N,” you introduce softly, voice extra quiet so as not to spook them. “I’m Suguru’s friend. What are your names?”
They glance at each other, slowly, unsure, before looking up at Geto. He nods, a simple, silent gesture and then, as if relaxing, their tensed bodies ease and the lighter haired one speaks up first; “i’m Nanako and this is Mimiko,” she introduces her sister for her, and when you glance at the twins, it’s clear who protects who. The thought brings a smile to your lips, thinking back fondly to memories of your past, and nod.
“Those are such pretty names,” you smile, eyes crinkling with warmth. “Are you both cold?”
Nanako nods slowly, and you watch as Mimiko’s lips tremble.
“It’s nice and warm in the car, and there’s a nice man named Ijichi who’ll give you some snacks, okay?”
They look to Geto for guidance once more, and all it takes is one more simple nod before Nanako is eagerly grabbing Mimiko’s hand, pulling her sister forward just as you open the car door. They clamber in, and you adjust Geto’s jacket around them better as they huddle to the middle of the back seat, still holding tightly onto one another, before you let the door shut gently.
Left with Geto, silence echoes as you slowly push yourself up.
Then, with a shaky breath, Geto whispers; “I wanted to slaughter them all.”
His words scare you, but you force yourself to swallow down the fear, reminding yourself who this is and where you are. So, with a small step forward, you close the gap that had existed between both you and Geto, licking your lips. “The village?”
He nods.
“They did that to them?”
Once again, a nod.
“They would’ve deserved it.”
Geto blinks at that, shocked you’d agree with him. “...what?”
“I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, because… you’re not,” you confess with a shuddering breath. The worlds feel wrong even if you believe them. There was a time that the simple thought of death upon anyone, even the worst of scum, would’ve made you feel ill. But now, it didn’t always feel so wrong — at least not in thought. Not in the deepest, darkest parts of your mind.
“But you didn’t,” you add, closing the gap completely between the both of you. You take a leap, ignoring your uncertainty and fear and everything in between and take his hand in your own, squeezing. “That’s what’s important.”
“But I wanted to.”
You meet his eyes and finally see something in it — a glimpse of hope, maybe. There’s something other then empty in those eyes, even for just a second, and you grab onto it, tightly, knuckles white as hope floods you because that was all you needed. 
Geto wasn’t gone.
“I’ve wanted to,” you confess, and it isn’t hard to know who and what you mean. “But I didn’t either. Do you think I’m a bad person?”
And his answer is instant; “no.”
“You aren’t either.”
His gaze lowers, and you think that’s all that can be said. At least now. Right now, those two little girls are important. Shoko’ll need to see them and when you get back to the school, Gojo will be there and he’ll help. You’re sure of it.
“Let’s go home,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his own. “Okay, Suguru?”
-
Gojo almost looks mad.
But one look at you, and his features soften, tense shoulders fading and he’s forced to remind himself of something maybe he just doesn’t quite understand. 
He’s never been good with words, at least not when it came to comforting. Not when it came to things like this.
So he doesn’t say anything.
After Shoko had checked the girls, and assured bith you and Geto that despite bruising, they were okay. They’d need water and food, but most importantly, sleep. 
You tuck them into your bed.
Geto is silent the entire time. He doesn’t say anything, just stands behind you, his presence is always there. There’s moments you catch, just faintly, where one of the girls will look at him and he’ll smile with a softness you’ve only ever seen directed at you or Gojo.
It fills you with a warmth, and that glimmer of hope you don’t want to lose.
The second he’s sure they’re okay and fast asleep, he slips out of your dorm and heads straight to his. A moment passes before you follow him, and when you finally reach him, he’s in his bed, back turned with the covers pulled up, as if hiding himself from everyone.
You stand there, watching, for ten minutes before Gojo arrives.
It takes him only one minute, after your look and after his acceptance to step forward, slipping into Getos much too small bed to carry two six feet tall men. But it doesn’t stop Gojo. He pulls the covers, slips underneath and presses his face into Getos back. It’s oddly soft for Gojo, caring in a way that words aren’t needed and comforting in a way only possible for him.
You feel distant from them in that moment.
You didn’t know how to help. What to say, what to do. You did what you thought was right, but it still hadn’t felt enough. Sure, you’d gotten Geto home, but he’d still been distant, cold and that look in his eyes still remained strikingly blank and gone.
Yet, you watch as the simple touch of Gojo relaxes Geto’s shoulders and he seems to ease, as if some, if not all, of the anxiety just washes away.
It hurts while comforts you.
You turn to leave, even if it’s your bed; maybe Shokos still up and—
“Y/N.”
Your body freezes, head slowly turning at the sound of Geto’s voice. He’s not spoken one word to you since you’d found him. 
He’s looking at you, meeting your eyes directly and one of his arms is stretched out towards you, as if inviting you.
Lips parting, you hesitate.
“Please.”
That’s all it takes. Your feet are moving before your mind can process, rushing towards the bed with an unfamiliar urgency. You’re desperate for acceptance. Desperate to help and comfort and be there for Geto — because that’s all you want. All you ask for. You just want to help.
He’s grabbing onto your arm the second he can, tugging you to the other side of him, back pressing against the wall your bed is pushed up against and your chest pressed against Geto’s own as he wraps his arms around your waist. You lay there for a moment, before Geto’s pulling you closer, a hand pressing to the back of your head so you’re leaning into the crook of his neck.
Everything washes away then, the warmth of Geto soothing you.
And the words he utters next could make you cry;
“Thank you.”
His words echo in the silence, and then, your eyes flicker upwards, meeting Gojo’s. His gaze is already on your own, soft, warm and there’s a smile on his face.
Everything’s okay then, you realize.
Geto’s home and so is Gojo, and you did help.
You did.
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anothertimdrakestan · 1 year ago
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Pinky Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader !Soulmate AU
~ where your birthmark is where you'll first touch your soulmate ~
A pinky finger is an odd place to have a soulmate mark. Most people had full hands, a set of lips marked on their cheek, or a hand print on their hip. Yet yours was just the length of your left hand pinky finger.
No matter, you'd had the habit of locking pinky's with people since you were born. Call it natural habit or a desperation to link fingers with your soulmate, it was your thing.
So when you started your internship at the Bludhaven Police Department Sheriff's office and got finger printed you didn't think anything of it when officer Grayson paused on your last finger.
"This your soulmate mark?" he gestured to your pinky, which was darker than the rest of your skin colour.
"Funny right! Just the pinky. Most people have normal ones! Where's yours? Wait. Is it on your lips?" you glanced up at the officer with a grin as he flushed.
"We all meet our soulmates in strange ways." he mumbled with a smile.
"Truth or dare? Or Suck and Blow? It had to be a party game right?" you leaned in as Officer Grayson pressed your pinky into ink.
"It was more of a greeting, she's not from around here so it was her way of saying hello." he stated, eyes twinkling with a familiar joy. God you wanted that. He continued, "I'll tell you, I know a kid with a pinky mark too. Cant remember which hand though. I'll bring him in soon, though neither of you seem like each other's type." you noticed his brows furrowed thinking about the "kid" he mentioned.
"Bring him in like, a bad guy? Not sure that's my type! I'm just here to learn about forensics!" you giggled. The officer just shook his head and told you to go start reviewing the steps to finger print collection and storage. Sounded super fun and interesting (not).
Turns out there's a lot to learn about crime forensics. By the end of the day you had a backpack full of materials to study on your transit ride back to Gotham. Hiking up fire escapes to the top of your apartment building, you decided to study via the lights from the top of your building. Nothing like the haze of Gotham to comfort you through pages of reading.
"Glad to see you're back." A familiar voice chided from your side.
"C'mon, you're excited to see me!" you grinned into the darkness, willing the shadowy figure to come forward. Like usual, he did.
"Good to see you, Robin." you waved with a teasing smile as he visibly shook his head.
"Can't say the same Y/N. I had more peaceful nights when you weren't here. What's got you up late this time?" he grumbled, keeping his distance as you held up your bunches of papers exclaiming "studying! Always studying."
"And you can't do that from the safety of your apartment?" he questioned. You shook your head no in response. "Need I remind you of the multiple times I've had to throw people off this balcony for you?" he yawned, gesturing to the ledge of the rooftop.
"Aren't I so lucky you're protecting me!" you teased. He wasn't wrong, sketchy people had on more than one occasion lurked on top the Gotham's tallest buildings, but you enjoyed the view and trusted Robin far too much to change your place of comfort.
"Protecting Gotham." he retorted, moving towards the rooftop to jump towards a night full of crime fighting. You never tried to stop him from leaving, you still thought it was insane that he even paused to talk to you, so you just waved and watched as he launched into darkness. Curling back up with your notes you appreciated the blanket of safety his presence had placed on you.
~
"Damian I'm telling you she has the mark on her pinky!" Dick screeched, chasing after Damian who was not willing to hear anything he had to say. "What do I care Grayson? I don't want a soulmate, I'm busy," he retorted, cascading through the batcave to get away from Dick's prying eyes.
"Just let me see! I wanna know!" Dick cried but Damian had already slammed his door closed.
"Word on the street is Dames found a rooftop girl. You didn't hear it from me though." Tim called from the adjacent room. The two were usually stuck on patrol together so it did make sense. But Dick still couldn't believe it.
"Which goddamn rooftop." Dick's voice was a low hum, the determination dripping from his tongue. He had a theory.
~
"Morning Officer Grayson!" you called down the hallways of the BPD office. You'd finally gotten a full night of sleep last night because you had finished studying a couple days ago, free from the piles of work. Your morning glee quickly dissipated when you were promptly handed a stack of papers and binders.
"You're doing great work, so we're moving you up to sample analysis. Lots of reading for ya!" the officer sounded congratulatory as he handed you the piles of paperwork. You couldn't deny, this was what you wanted, but it was definitely more work than you could do in one day. Needless to say, you hoped you'd get to see a familiar bird brain that night.
~
Cozying up on the rooftop you were so deep into the inner-workings of a microscope you hardly noticed the shadowy figure that had appeared across from you.
"Studying again are we?" Robin's snarky voice made you jump, eyes snapping to his face. "Tons of work! Calls for an all nighter, what about you?" you simply replied.
"Patrol." His response was curt but you wanted more this time.
"What after? Tell me- what does a hero do in his free time?" you leaned in with a teasing smile. To your surprise Robin leaned back against the railing and responded "I like to draw." Giving you more of a key into him than you'd ever gotten.
"I'm a terrible artist but I bet you're amazing! Keen eyes and steady hands always make for good art. You should show me sometime! If you want!" you rambled with a grin. You figured it would be an automatic no, but the corner of his mouth twitched up, almost like a smile as he said, "maybe I will." Something blossomed in your chest.
"Well, you're always welcome here! Like, all night. It's brutal." you joked, gesturing at the piles of papers in your lap.
"I may just take you up on that, my brother has been overwhelmingly obnoxious at home. Have a good night." Robin muttered as he left over the rooftop railing once again. You smiled to yourself, he likes to draw and he has a brother? Fascinating.
You were practically asleep in your notes when you felt something bump into your chest. A surprisingly elegant paper airplane. From the shadows you could see Robin sitting across from you, back against the rooftop railing, a notepad and pencil in his arms as he starred up at you.
"What? You were practically snoring." he said matter-of-factly.
"For the record, I do not snore. Also, how'd you make this? It's beautiful!" you exclaimed, delicately holding up the paper airplane to appreciate the little curves of the thick paper.
"I was into origami for a while. It's almost mathematical, very satisfying." his reply was short again, seemingly focused on the sketching at hand. So you fell into silence with him, focusing up on your note taking.
You didn't exactly notice the sun starting to rise. It was hard to see in Gotham, smog and all, but the inkling of light from the hazy sky gave you a clearer picture of the boy wonder then you'd ever gotten.
It felt strange but he was gorgeous. Silky black hair tousled from running his hands through it in between pencil scratches, when he was focused he bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows knit into determination. You appreciated the reds and yellows of his costume, noting the various weapons hitched across his body. But the rest was hidden. Whether behind his domino mask, his suit, or his silence.
"It's rude to stare at a working artist" he grumbled, chin tilting up to show that his eyes were meeting yours.
"You've never stayed this long." you replied breathlessly. Squirming in your chair, knowing that you couldn't get any closer without him running off.
"Your presence isn't, unbearable, for what it's worth." his voice was so low but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. "Same to you." you whispered back, letting your tired eyes drift back to your notes which were pretty much done. It was an all nighter after all.
It felt like a few minutes but the billowing light from the rising sun told you it had been longer, and your head was severely drooping into your lap. "Y/n, you need sleep. Go to bed," his voice was warm but stern, enough to get you to lazily collect your papers and stand up with a yawn.
"Well! Thanks for hanging with me!" deliriously you held out your fist, Robin tilted his head to the side in confusion. You chuckled, "it's a fist bump dumbass." And to your surprise he closed the distance between the two of you, and slowly touched his knuckled to yours. His gloves were cold but you were focused on the fact that you were just inches from the boy wonder.
But a few seconds was all you got to realize how much taller he was than you before he melted back into the shadows. You stood stunned for a moment before stumbling back to your apartment, desperate for sleep.
~
"You look like hell kid" Officer Grayson greeted you with a questioning look as you waved him off of you. "Your fault for giving me hours of reading buddy." He grinned glancing down at the now filled notebook you'd brought to work. "You actually look dead kid, on lunch break we'll grab coffee," you rolled your eyes at his promise but knew you needed the caffeine.
Getting to know Officer Grayson, Dick, was surprisingly rewarding. He had years of experience and hundreds of stories that had you folded over from laughter. But there was something you were begging to learn more about, someone rather.
"Have you worked with Robin much?" your question broke the calm silence. Dick's eyes shone with some sort of pride, "I have, yeah. Good kid. Cold as hell but a damn good hero." and you nodded in reply, although cold wasn't exactly the way you'd describe Robin.
Dick's eyes lit up at something behind you, he shot up out of his cafe chair and said "look what the cat dragged! Glad to see you lil bro!" A loud enough exclamation that you turned around and locked eyes with a boy with jet black hair and piercing green eyes. The boy stood stunned at the door, starring at you and Dick before slowly approaching, eyes trained to yours before Dick pulled him into a hug. Immediately, he pushed himself out of Dick's embrace with a scowl, you couldn't help but grin at the reaction.
"Y/N meet Damian, Dames this is Y/N she's an intern at the office! Damian has classes over here so I figured we'd catch him during our break!" Dick babbled as he forcefully guided Damian into the seat next to him. Damian looked almost stunned, eyes flicking between you and his brother.
You broke Dick's rambling saying "Hi! You're a student too?" and he nodded slowly, glancing between you and Dick. "Studying what?" you tried to guide the conversation but he interrupted:
"You live in the area?"
"Nope, Gotham."
"Oh, me too." was all Damian muttered before his name was called, and he shot up, mumbling a "nice to meet you" and giving Dick another glare. Dick just grinned in response and the two of you soon headed back to the office.
~
"You had no right to do that!" Damian's roar was echoing in the cave that night. He'd just finished throwing almost everything on his person at Dick who was still uncontrollably laughing.
"C'mon Dames, were you just gonna visit your soulmate every once and a while on a rooftop for the rest of your life? Make a move lil bro. You're Bruce's kid you've got to have some game!" Dick teased back before a stray batarang was lobbed towards him.
"I've got it handled." Damian retorted angrily.
"Fine. fine. But blame Tim cuz he's the one who snitched on the rooftop hookups." Dick cooed before ducking out of the room to avoid further assault. Another screech filled the cave.
~
A few nights later, you were perched on the rooftop once again. This time you didn't have nearly enough work, but were hoping a certain distraction would stick around this time.
And he did.
"Hey" his voice was soft, and your head rose from your book to smile into the shadows.
"Hi! Whatcha got?" you noticed the silhouette was holding something.
"Come see." you could hear his chest rumbling. You felt like you were floating towards the thick railing of the rooftop.
And there he was again. Holding a sketchpad.
"You brought drawings!" you cooed, grinning as he inched closer, leather gloves flipping pages as you drank in the beautiful sketches, watercolours, and poems that filled the pages.
"What do you think?" he whispered, you swore warmth was vibrating off of him, just a few inches away from each other.
"They're beautiful" you quietly replied. He flipped another page, and it was a pencil sketch of you half asleep in your studies, on the rooftop. "From the other night!" you giggled, delicately tracing the sketch with your pinky. Robin drew a sharp breath, loud enough that your eyes were drawn up to his domino mask.
"I've got one more sketch to show you. But, I fear you won't like it." his head dropped slightly, his gloved hand toying with the bottom of the paper, as if debating whether or not to flip it.
"I'll be okay! Promise." you nudged his shoulder, holding up your pinky, a true promise, and a dangerous solution to the question making you dizzy standing next to him.
He shook his head, "look first, promise after" to which you nodded, dropping your hand and eyes to the paper.
As the page turned, you couldn't help but gasp. On the last page of the sketchbook, in the most intricate detail, were two hands. Pinky's locked.
"Take your glove off." you shot your gaze back to the hero.
"Wait." he took a step back.
You took one forward, reaching for the glove yourself.
Back again. "Y/N, wait." you froze at your name on his tongue.
"You and I both know what's under my glove, but I'm giving you an out. I've sat here for months thinking about doing this, wanting to do this. But, you deserve someone who doesn't throw their life away, who can be there for you, someone who isn't... isn't me" he gestured to his outfit, stocked with weapons.
"Who can be there for me? You've protected me more than anyone else in my life. Someone who deserves me? I'm not a trophy, I'm, I'm your soulmate."
"I know, but-" he began but you weren't finished:
"All I deserve, is someone who can love me. Can you do that?" you closed the distance, and he didn't back away.
"It's all I've ever done." he whispered. Delicately, you reached for his hand. He let you draw it from his side, holding desperately still as you peeled the glove from his left hand. And there, in the same pattern as yours, stood his mark.
"You promise?" you gave a small smile, holding up your pinky for the final time.
"Always." he closed the distance, locking your hands together as a warmth like you'd never felt spread through your hand, dancing up your arm, and bursting in your chest.
"Oh my god do you feel that?" you asked breathlessly, your right hand touching your chest.
He nodded, letting your hands drop as his right hand tilted your chin up, your eyes once again meeting a mask.
"I never thought I'd ever do this" his voice was soft, drinking in your closeness to him.
"I would've found you" you said with a grin, you had always had the sixth sense that Robin's visits to your study sessions were more than patrol.
He scoffed, "yeah my brother was gonna make sure of it."
"Your brother?" you dug deeper, fighting the itch to reach up for the mask he wore, your heart begging to see his eyes.
You felt him tug his pinky from yours, "I suppose a promise is a promise." he reached up for you, pulling the mask from his face as familiar green eyes met yours.
"Oh. My god." your jaw dropped, fitting the puzzle together.
"I guess the universe decided I was taking too long and put Richard Grayson on job. I must apologize for the coffee shop, I wasn't expecting to see my Gothamite soulmate seated across from my brother, in Bludhaven. " he sighed, eyes twinkling. You laughed in agreement.
"Quite the wingman" you mused.
Damian nodded, closing the distance as he said "don't ever tell him, but I'm thinking he was right all along" before pressing his lips to yours.
~
Weeks later you were far less sleep deprived, still loving your job in Bludhaven. Especially because a certain student was always waiting to pick you up for the ride home.
"Hi Dames!" you strolled up to your now boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his cheek while he locked your pinky in his, the two of you strolling towards the cafe that has become your shared favorite place. Settling down in a booth, you both fell into routine: sketching and studying while enjoying the other's presence.
A crazy few weeks, a huge change to your life, but a good one nonetheless. You had to hand it to-
"I knew you lovebirds would be here!" The bell on the cafe door rang, drawing you and Damian out of your focus. Damian rolled his eyes with a scoff and you gave Dick a wave.
Dick was stroll strutting around, "call me cupid the way I matched you two up!" he crooned.
Damian dryly replied, "Richard we are quite literally soulmates." but the oaf wasn't listening, too busy pretending to shoot you both with an invisible bow "cupid style".
You smiled to yourself, if only Dick knew how grateful you and Damian were to have each other... thank to him.
~~~
A/N: pure fluff for your timeline <3 hope you enjoyed!
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ybklix · 7 months ago
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stargirl
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black hair felix my beloved, just felix my beloved₊˚⊹♡
★ pairing: idol!felix x fem!reader one shoot.
✦summary: After a fashion event in Paris, Felix decides to visit you at your apartment, you two are best friends, you have kissed before but you don't know how to take the next step even though you both want each other badly.
♡notes: 2022 felix in ysl event outfit.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / only 18+ / reader's pov / oral sex / unprotected sex / fingering / masturbation / foreplay / needy reader
word count: 6.1k
one shoot (masterlist)
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ I had a vision A vision of my nails in the kitchen Scratching counter tops, I was screaming My back arched like a cat My position couldn't stop, you were hitting it.
I gently placed my fingers over my lips, removing the crumbs from that cookie bite I had just taken. Followed by several bites, I would occasionally run my tongue, while, standing in front of my kitchen island, I flipped through the pages of my previous month's Vogue magazine... I had to confess that I was a little nervous. My mind was all over the place and my stomach seemed to drop with every passing second... still, the cookie was sweet and delicious, I couldn't stop eating it.
The sudden message notification sound distracted my attempted attention from the magazine. My cellphone was right next to it, and that's when through the screen I managed to read his name, and a message telling me to open the door, that he was outside; once again my stomach dropped with nerves and my breathing was short. This used to happen to me when I really liked someone. I think I really like him.
I didn't bother grabbing my cellphone, I just nervously smoothed down my pajama shorts and ran for the door. I was so nervous, I knew he was coming, but I didn't expect it, inside a part of me was begging for him to say I'm getting tired, I think I'll get some sleep, see you tomorrow.... Only then maybe I would feel calmer.
I didn't take any more time to think and simply opened up, finding his slim complexion dressed all in black, in front of me. He smiled at me. I smiled back and let him in.
His scent reached me in his soft breeze as he passed, every passing second was killing me, I really didn't know how much longer I would have to survive like this.
Disappointed that our greeting was just a shy smile, I followed him with my eyes. I was tired of neither of us making the first move, it's not like we hadn't kissed before... I just felt like he had this thought that there wasn't enough trust yet, or maybe he thought we couldn't cross that line yet. Agh, if only he knew… it was what I was looking forward to the most. We had spent an excellent afternoon, touring the city, I took him to my favorite places, talked like I had never talked before, showed him every useless thing in my apartment, my favorite paintings, my favorite restaurant, I was near him for hours… and still, no little kiss. I closed the door after his entrance, he walked a few steps in the foyer and turned to me, looked me up and down, frowned and said:
“Oh sorry, were you going to sleep already?”
I felt my cheeks burn. Embarrassment took over me; the truth was that after a hot afternoon, I wanted to take a bath and make myself as comfortable as possible, but in a… sexy way, to tell the truth the bare shoulders and perfectly loose pajamas were quite cute, just right, why would I feel embarrassed… a part of me knew exactly what I was doing, however the me of the moment, standing in front of the man I liked, didn't have the slightest idea. In fact, I wanted to give the relaxed appearance, as if I didn't care so much in his presence, when in reality I spent hours fixing my hair knowing he was coming, I used concealer under my eyes and richened my lashes by placing a clear mascara, light liquid blush and my favorite perfume on my neck.
“No, I just wanted to be comfortable, although you know… it is a little late” I answered awkwardly, I didn't know how to keep a conversation and he knew that, “Do you want a drink?” I tried to make him comfortable.
“Sure.”
We went to the kitchen where, in two glasses, I served us wine, because I was nervous and didn't really know what I was doing.
“I drank it quite a lot today”, he said.
I looked at him, surprised that this might not be what he wanted to drink. He was sitting on the other side of the kitchen counter as he watched me pour the drink.
“But it's okay” he hastened to add when he saw my reaction, “Champagne, wine, people, basically it was all like that.”
I opened my mouth in amazement, I was just about to ask him how that designer campaign meeting had gone. I must admit, it was quite attractive to seet him at that kind of event.
“Really? And how did it go?” asked him and took a small sip from my glass. I walked around the table, to approach him and hand him the drink.
“Good. Sit here” he suddenly ordered, pointing to the chair next to him on his left side, then stared at me.
Where had that come from? It was so sudden and so… good, I really liked it. Hearing him order me in that voice, I wasn't at all upset. He knew perfectly well that I would do everything I could to push him away, no matter how much I wanted him to, I just couldn't. So I obeyed, and like a good friend about to overhear a friend's conversation, I sat down next to him. Our knees bumped, and he kept staring at me. Quickly realizing his tone, he cleared his throat and tried to take it back.
“Ahh, to talk more comfortable.” I smiled. I liked him too much, couldn't he see it?
We were facing each other. My breath was starting to hitch again, my heart was racing and it was enough just to see the beauty of his face.
At times like this, I pray for him to go away, only then I could breathe. “So, how was your night?”
I used a soft tone and tilted my head a bit to listen to him, just acting like everything is fine. Felix let out a sigh, frustrated, puffing out his cheeks.
“You know well I was nervous, but I enjoyed it, people were so kind” he laughed softly. “It was fun, a lot of people came to Hyunjin and I, they were nice, the atmosphere was good, I guess.”
“That's good to hear.” I saw him pass his gaze to my lips quickly, then quickly divert to the counter, where he captured the cookies on the container.
“From where?” he pointed them out.
“Oh, from the bakery nearby, didn't you see it when you came here?”
“I think so, it looks nice” he smiled at me.
“Do you want some?” I asked him, to which I hurriedly stretched out my hand to reach for the container.
Felix nodded, and gently stretched his neck, opening his mouth. He waited for me to feed him. I unconsciously smiled like a fool at his action and took a cookie, handing it to his mouth, Felix laughed between mouthfuls and took it. From a sweet and innocent act it went to tension, as I suddenly felt his heavy gaze, fixed on me, as he delicately licked his lips. Felix. Making me go from one emotion to another. Does he know how nervous he makes me? I'm sure he does and I'm so embarrassed.
“Tastes good.”
I smiled at him. With nothing more to say, I thought for a few seconds until he spoke again.
“So you didn't go out today?”
I shook my head.
“I came here and wanted to rest a bit.” Felix let out a light chuckle, then took a sip from his glass. I must admit, I memorized every little detail of something that only lasted three seconds… it was like in slow motion. Him, with his elegant build, dressed in a way he regularly doesn't, his shiny black button-down shirt, his formal black jeans, his hair still perfectly groomed despite hours of a tedious social event�� the way his arm came up and the glass came to touch his mouth, gently closing his eyes and stretching his head back. I was absolutely lost. Absorbed. I averted my gaze as fast as I could when I realized he wanted to captivate mine.
“And… Hyunjin… didn't he want to hang out?”
Felix looked down for a second and gave a half smile.
“Not really… he said he wanted to rest. But I did want to come and spend some time.” He looked at me once more. This time I could feel the tension and the incredible magnetism in our flimsy bodies. Under the glowing light of my kitchen. Just the two of us. Was it me or was his breathing getting heavy? I smiled at him. Again, out of words to which he added:
“I wanted to see you.”
I froze, I swear if he touchs me I can turn into a liquid state. Still, I pray for him to do it. Now. I watched his fingers play with the cup, and the seconds seemed eternal. I didn't know what to say.
“Wanna listen some music?” he suddenly interrupted, clearing his throat and putting his hand over his fingers.
He quickly stood up on his seat. I looked at him confused; Felix headed for the turntable in my living room.
I soon realized, he may have felt uncomfortable, unrequited. I should have said something, silly me. Why doesn't he just take me, can't he see that? Why doesn't he just...
“I listen to it a lot for my French class” he said cheerfully, showing me the cover of Edith Piaf's album.
I smiled warmly at him as I approached him. One thing about Felix is that he would act as if nothing had happened a few seconds ago, just like me, one of the few things alike that we shared.
“It's fun to learn with music.”
“True... but I don't feel in the mood for Piaf's...”
“How about…” he turned, searching through the albums until finally showing me one, “Yes.”
My smile widened so suddenly.
“Lana? Really?”
“You say it's always a good time to listen to her.”
I wanted to capture him in that moment. Him holding my favorite album, with a smile, taking it gently.
“And it is.”
Nervously, without thoughts, I sat down on the couch. The first few seconds are a kind of crunching sound emitted by the record player, it's so... satisfying, then the best part started: the guitar of cruel world, the song. I closed my eyes tightly, hiding my excitement.
Opening my eyes I found a smiling Felix, approaching me, then sitting down next to me. If I thought about it, Felix's all black outfit, his dark hair, matched the album aesthetic completely.
“I love that song” I told him.
“I know. You love all of them.”
I looked sideways at him as I blushed. The song with that slight crackle was so special, I hadn't heard it in a while. I'm obsessed again.
“I'd do anything to hear it for the first time. To erase my memory and... experience it again.”
Felix laughed. I was so happy to hear Lana that I unconsciously moved closer and closer to him.
When the song ended, suddenly it caught my attention that he got up from the couch to go get his phone from the counter, where he stayed for a while, apparently just texting. I sighed, and decided to approach him. He was acting strange out of the blue, I thought he liked me back... I have to prove it before I build up any more stupid expectations.
Felix laughed and kept on texting. It was no big deal. He was confirming his schedule with someone on his staff for tomorrow. Or so I read. As I steped back, slowly, I saw his relaxed expression, and his adorable profile. Well, if I didn't do it now he would leave with nothing but a void in me.
I tried to pretend to check my phone too, but nothing was getting my attention.
“Felix” I called for his attention.
He raised his eyebrows, as a sign that he was listening, but he wasn't. His eyes were glued to the phone screen, his fingers typing nimbly. He looked so good doing the tiniest thing, still, I wanted his attention.
“Felix” I called him back, to which he unexpectedly locked his phone, placing it on the table and stared at me.
He folded his arms, looking relaxed. He was leaning on the edge of the table, facing my living room. Good. Now I had his attention. It took me a few seconds, I tried to captivate him, to let him feel the atmosphere, to which, then, feeling the blood rise in my cheeks, I let out a small laugh at the phrase however I dared to tell him:
“Do you want to kiss me already?”
He thought about it the shortest second and the next, finally, he drew a shy smile on his face, moved closer to me... and I felt his lips on mine. I could die right there.
His hands took hold of my waist and pulled him closer to his body. We were pressed together, moving our lips slowly, enjoying ourselves. I tried to stand on my tiptoes, as my arms wrapped around his body as well. We lasted like that for a sweet minute, his right hand ran from my waist to my face, where he placed his hand on. We looked at each other. The glance after the act was always….
I didn't have time to think. He interrupted my thoughts as his lips crashed into mine again, but this time it was more passionate, quick, desperate. I think we had only kissed like this once before, and it ended up leaving me totally craving something more.
I felt the warmth and softness of his fleshy lips brush mine; this time his grip was stronger, and his hands torturously roamed my body, my back, waist, caressed my hair, I felt his hands touch my flimsy silk pajamas, and I noticed the coldness of his shirt buttons and belt sticking to me. I tried to keep up with him, but suddenly his tongue made me open my mouth wider. He was initiating it.
I just wanted a piece of him tonight, before he walked through that door, before I went to sleep sad that I didn't tell him how intensely I felt...that I wanted him. But this felt so intimate, special. I hope he can finish what he's starting, my legs don't respond, I can hold on because of his strong grip and I feel my temperature rising.
Our breaths shorten. We manage to separate, but Felix looks serious, focused. Then the torture continues, he follows with light kisses, at the corner of my lips, around my face, my lips, the tip of my nose, at one point in his actions, our hands intertwine and he continues, teasing me. He knows I'm impulsive and may take his lips in a desperate act; but I didn't feel like doing it now, that little moment felt so right, lovely, warm, perfect.
Slowly, his kisses came down, each brush felt like a prick, it's sharp, startling, pleasurable pain. My breathing was getting faster and faster and I can hear the throbbing in my ears... for a second I thought if he is feeling the same. But I couldn't get a good look at him. He deposited kisses on my jaw all the way down to the neck. So this was how it was going to happen. I thought.
I couldn't help but feel the sudden violent throbbing in my lower part. Shit, this time I was already wet. I was aroused and I was dying to know if he was feeling the same.
His perfume overwhelms me and the brush of his nose kills me. For a second it's not about sex, it's not about the incredible urge I have for him to take me, remove my clothes and have him do with me in sudden frenzied actions of his, to cry and scream... for a second... it's about the art of touching skin to skin. I needed him. To feel him close. So close. To breathe in his scent as I lay my head on his shoulder, making me his. It was almost as if this whole process was so tedious, I wanted to be under his skin already. To feel wanted by him.
I was about to regain my composure until he came to give me kisses on my shoulders. I was just asking over and over again in my inner thoughts and cries, please take off my blouse.
He grabbed my butt and again pulled me into his body. That's when I opened my eyes a little in surprise as I finally felt him and, I realized, we were both aroused.
His cheeks were colored with a slight reddish tinge and his hands traveled from my ass to the inside of my blouse, where he roamed my waist. The cool touch of his rings against my warm skin made me let out a soft moan, one that managed to make Felix smile broadly.
Once again we found ourselves kissing, but now slowly, delicately and passionately. His hands were finally touching my skin, sometimes he would bring his hand up and I felt his thumbs play with my nipples, he would squeeze my breast and, I had to admit, I loved it. But it frustrated me at the same time.
As we parted, in a quick act due to my frustration, I boldly removed my blouse and threw it on the floor, letting Felix see part of my naked body for the first time and, giving him the green light, that is absolutely happening tonight. I wanted it so badly. I wanted him to see it all if it's possible.
He opened his mouth slightly in surprise, I let him watch for a few seconds and before he could make the next move, I stepped forward, giving him another quick, passionate kiss, then I was the one moving down his neck and then to his slight bare chest. As I did so I could hear Felix's heavy breathing close to my ear, followed by sighs of frustration, exasperation and the occasional slight moan in his deep voice, which really turned me on more and made my legs lose the strength to stand there, standing in front of him. My bare breasts brushed against his silky shirt and I felt the pressure of his hands caressing my bare back, occasionally pushing my loose hair away from my face.
Finally I managed to unbutton his shirt, I stretched it a little to get it out of the grip of his belt and left it open; I saw his flat and worked abdomen, stupidly I ran my hands over it, feeling it; Felix let out a chuckle with an arrogant tone, to which I quickly raised my eyes and he stopped laughing, even so, he returned a sweet smile, one that ended up melting me.
Unsure, I started moving down, depositing kisses on his chest then his abdomen... if I kept moving down this would have a consequence, so I hurriedly and nervously, directed my hand to his erection, where I gently touched it on his pants. I looked up to see Felix's reaction, but he was already closing his eyes, letting himself go. I squeezed it some more, massaging it, this time Felix moaned. From one second to the next, I was on my knees. In front of his notorious bulge, about to do what it's excpected.
Felix leaned back agains the table a little, relaxed his body and with his left hand began to gently stroke my hair.
When my breathing was becoming uncontrollable, choppy and irregular I was starting to like it more. Just like now. With trembling hands, from excitement and nerves, I unbuckled first his belt... then the button of his pants, his zipper... before pulling it down, I looked at Felix, who was watching me from above, even at that angle he looked so good. I think I had fantasized about seeing him in this position... me pleasuring him.
“Do it” he said to me, in a frustrated tone, almost in a gasp.
His voice became deeper than normal. He licked his lips and waited to be satisfied.
My knees were losing resistance, and the pulsations in me were getting stronger and stronger. My mouth began to produce more saliva and I felt my cheeks burn intensely.
I finally pulled down his pants where I found his erection on top of his underwear, more prominent.
I wanted to play his same game, and I kissed slowly over the fabric, stuck my tongue out moistening him a little and used my hands. It was soft and hard at the same time. Meanwhile, I heard Felix cursing in a low tone and sighing. But I couldn't resist that little game anymore, so I pulled the elastic of his underwear, and I had to turn my face away, otherwise he was going to slap me. I closed my eyes for a second and then opened them to finally see him. I blushed instantly, perplexed that this was actually all happening, me about to give him a blowjob... and I used to be so shy around Felix.
It was perhaps, better than I had imagined, perfect length —I think even a little bigger than I thought— perfect thickness, color and obviously kept the area clean. Shit, it looked so good.
I directed my left hand to his straight, firm manhood, feeling the texture of his skin, going up and down, stroking his tip with my fingers, until I reached the other end. Meanwhile my best friend lifted his head back in pleasure with muffled moans.
Before I felt it in my mouth, I wanted to feel it on my lips. I wanted every end of me to feel his texture... I was pretty sure this was going to keep me happy for quite some time... and of course, his love and understanding, I hoped.
I kissed it once, then opened my mouth, closed my eyes and ran his length across my lips. His warm, stiff, throbbing sex was finally at my disposal, his pleasure was now up to me and the thought was enough to make me wet again. I could be on my knees, below him, but I still felt that all the power belonged to me now.
Without further ado, I held him with moderate force and began to lick him, moistening and lubricating him... from his glans to his base, tentatively taking his balls from time to time and at last, I was ready to take him into my mouth. Concentrating on not ruining it, I sucked hard, using my tongue and making him rub the softness of the inside of my cheeks. He seemed to love it.
That's when I noticed a weak Felix, surrendered and letting himself go, holding more and more to the kitchen counter with his hand and the other one not letting go of my hair.
I continued my work, in, out, from shallow... to trying deeper, pulling him out, flicking my tongue and when I felt my jaw hurt, I used my hands.
Felix's moans and gasps were getting hotter and hotter. But nothing compared when he moaned my name in his voice, or when he let out little whispers, like this, it feels good, it was the best music to my ears, even better than the one that was playing in the background... it was priceless, the feeling was on another level. I wanted to be his already.
The atmosphere was burning, nothing around us could turn us off, he was totally lost to the pleasurable sensations and desire. His moans were so hot, blending together with the music and the grotesque sounds of his penis in my mouth, it was all too much that I couldn't help but run my hand slowly over my body, traveling over my tits, pressing them, imagining it's him, finally him, until I reached my wet spot. I was dying to be touched, but I had to stop myself. I really wanted it to be him this time.
Felix noticed my groping, bit his lip and, between the incredibly deep look of lust —a dark, piercing, serious yet brilliant look, my new favorite look of his— I noticed his intentions to stop me and take me. To touch me.
But I didn't want to. I didn't want to stop until I saw him cum. Climax. For me. And only for me. I wanted to see him made a mess just for me. If that included having to hold out a little longer for his touch, I would hold out.
I kept up my work for a while longer, keeping a rhythm, speeding it up, feeling every outstanding vein, his skin texture and fat vibrating cock inside my mouth and sliding down my tongue. Tears were starting to come out of my eyes, my nose was about to get runny… I was so turned on that if he didn't cum, I would at any moment. I swear his moans, the strong grip on my hair, loud sighs and gasps as he called my name were enough for me. I was going crazy.
I could tell how much he loved to be pleasured, the movement of his hips was slight, and his little pushes and pulls on my hair were gentle; just Felix always being so considerate.
Until I felt salty droplets of his pre-seminal fluid coming out of him, lubricating the area more, making it slippery, I knew he was going to cum soon. So I continued, harder.
Felix's moans began to change suddenly his ahh was getting deeper and steadier, his legs were getting weaker and that's when I suddenly felt something warm shot my mouth, followed by a loud exasperated moan from my best friend, fuck, he yelled. He filled my mouth, dripping semen on the edges of it.
I was surprised, but I couldn't help but smile in satisfaction, seeing him fully yielding, with his head back, I was just looking at his bare abdomen, his long neck and marked jaw. I withdrew my mouth and hands slowly, still a mess was made, one that didn't bother me at all, after all it was what I was looking for. His semen fell a little on the floor and there were drops on my chest; I didn't know exactly what to do so I thoughtfully swallowed it. After all Felix was a guy who kept his diet healthy, just someone to trust I guess.
I looked up and found Felix staring down at me from above, at a fucking hot angle, with a cocky grin, he said with a husky voice:
“Did you just swallow it?”
My cheeks burned in embarrassment, I was already hot, and my face already had that pink tinge to it; but for some reason I felt the intensity of the color rise, I didn't know what to say, I was suddenly back to my shy self; was it wrong?
His hands searched my cheeks and lifted my gaze. Quickly, I stood up, never breaking eye contact.
“You're too good. Good girl.”
Still, I was still so horny and wanting so much more. Felix smiled at me, moved dangerously close to me and with his thumb wiped the semen beside my mouth, ran his finger across my lips and made me open my mouth, tasting him one last time. I would never have thought Felix would do something like that, I was surprised and delighted. At the end of the day he was just a little older than me, I guess there is more sex experience in him than I know; I was dying to know.
Without hesitating, he took me by the waist and sat me on the table, the cold, hard marble stone it was made of made me moan. This time Felix had no time to waste, so he pulled hard on my shorts and panties, leaving them lying on the floor and me, completely naked and vulnerable in front of him. I quickly glanced down at my body and then stared at him, his chest still rising and falling from heavy breathing, his gaze turned darker than usual and he still looked focused.
I blushed, he only moved closer to me, separating my legs to accommodate his body and began to kiss me, but now his hand was holding my neck tightly and the other was squeezing and playing with my breasts until he reached my wet pussy, where I put my legs together a little and gave a little jump of surprise when I felt his fingers pass through my area.
I confidently opened up more and more to Felix and wanted to enjoy his touch. I felt two of his slender fingers run up and down, until they found my clitoris, which made me moan in between the kiss, making me shudder, making my nipples hard and, by uncertainty, bringing me closer to his body. Finally he squeezed it and began to make movements, up and down and then circularly. He pulled away from me, but his face was inches from mine. I saw in detail his serious countenance, his pink lips with their perfect heart shape, the freckles scattered across his face and the hair falling a little to his forehead beginning to unkempt, our eyes meeting again.
I held myself with both hands, placed firmly on the table, but I felt small in front of him, I felt like he was now in total control of me. My muscles were contracting, my stomach was enlarging and shrinking from my breaths and constant sighs of excitement… his touch made me swoon. He continued like this, a few painful minutes in which I felt more and more of my climax until he moved down and inserted two of his fingers. It felt so good, with his thumb he kept caressing my clitoris and wet labia; he kept his rhythm, without being rough, it was perfect. I closed my eyes and let myself go, still wanting more of his touch.
“Does it feel good?” he said in my ear in a husky voice.
He smiled broadly. I knew it filled his pride and he liked knowing he was good at what he did, if not the best. At times I was afraid this would happen, Felix can be a bit of a perfectionist, yet he seemed to handle it very well, he cum for me and just now I was watching him masturbating himself. His hand was going up and down and pulling hard his cock, he seemed to be a little rough on himself. He looked so good. I suddenly realized, I wanted him inside me right now.
Felix caught me watching him, removed his fingers from me and began to tease me, rubbing the head of his erect penis over my wet, throbbing lips, pressing and slapping it. I just groaned in frustration.
“Do you have a con…?”
“Do it like this” I interrupted him, aroused.
Felix frowned, confused and unsure of his next move.
“They're in my room. But you can really do it like this” I tried to calm him down and persuade him.
I didn't want to walk to my room for a condom and I didn't want him to come off me right at the best time of night either. Yes, I was thinking stupidly and one little mistake could be forever but those were problems of the future, now I was here, next to him, ready for him to fuck me.
Then, the thing I craved so much, he pushed it into me, slowly until it was all inside. Felix grabbed my waist, pulling me closer to his body, feeling his length deepest in me. I let out a moan. Him inside me felt so good, so right.
And then he started with the non-stop movements, the thrusts. He started slow and when I felt it, I asked for him to do it faster. The sound of our bodies colliding was beutiful. Felix in one swift movement gracefully slid his shirt off, throwing it to the floor, leaned towards me and I couldn't help but touch his naked torso. His arms his back, and his thin silver chain dangling, moving. It felt so good I had forgotten what an incredible dancer he was, he had amazing control in his hips. His thrusts were strong, deep and steady, each one deteriorating me, destroying me, in the best possible way.
My breasts were moving up and down and Felix was moaning and panting freely near my ear. Everything was wonderful. I managed to wrap my legs around his body and stroke his soft hair, I was feeling so full and full that I could predict my climax at any moment. He felt it, my legs trembling, my muscles shrinking, my back arching and my eyes watering with my grip on his back tighter, my inner walls felt so hot, wrapping his hard dick tightly.
So, before I could cum, he kissed me, caught my lips, passionately. And I climaxed, this time moaning louder than the previous times and one more time… calling his name.
Felix didn't cum yet, but he seemed happier for my reaction as a half-smile appeared on his face. He continued inside me but now in a more delicate and slower, almost romantic way, until he pulled his erection out of me, resting it on my belly and came.
I was trying to catch my breath, as was he, for a few seconds we said nothing. Until we looked into each other's eyes and we both burst into laughter. It was bit funny because evidently we both wanted to have each other so badly.
I got off the table, thinking, this doesn’t have to end yet, I feel sticky for the fluids and a little embarrased. Since we were here, there was one more thing I wanted to do, well, hundreds, but right now I was only thinking of one. I want to jump on his dick.
“Let's go to my room”, I said, taking his hands, almost in a plea “Take off your clothes.”
Felix still had his pants and underwear on, only they were both pulled down. Without looking back I walked to my room, almost jumping of happiness. I waited for him, sitting on my bed. I was wet and ready again just thinking about it. Felix came in a few seconds later, shy, blushing and covering his area, as if I hadn't seen it all before. I laughed slowly and he sat down next to me, on the edge of the bed, so with a nod I told him to settle in nicely, with his full body to the bed.
Finally we were both naked, ready to give ourselves completely once again. I spread my legs apart one on each side of him, putting my body in front, and kissed him again. That unique kiss that we loved to give each other so much, passionate, strong and intense. My hands went down from his abs to his already hard cock, playing with it a little. As we parted, I looked at him, and confessed:
“I want to feel all of you again, Felix; is that okay?”
That meant I wanted to feel every raw texture of his hard cock inside me, every inch rubbing all over my guts.
He looked at me, so fucking cute with his big brown cat eyes; he nodded shyly.
I smiled and put it on. Slowly, teasing him. I played a little, rubbing it in my area, rubbing it, just like he did. Letting myself fall gently on his cock, stroking it over my cunt without putting it inside of me yet, moving slowly back and forth, Felix closed his eyes in pleasure, and I couldn't hold back any longer, I was just getting wetter and wetter, my area was was throbbing, ready to ride my best friend's cock.
So I stared at him.
“Now it's my turn” I said.
I had this theory that Felix liked to be slightly dominated and, evidently he liked to have the attention to him and I seriously liked to give, so it was a perfect dynamic. And without further ado, I settled him right into me. Felix moaned and his hands held my waist tightly.
Then I started to do it finally, what I wanted so badly after all. I jumped on him, slowly moving up and down… as I felt his hands run up and down my body, damn it was excellent. My cheeks once again burned and I felt slight sweat break out on me. Felix seemed to love it and that was just what I wanted. I rested my head near his neck for a moment, breathing in his scent and feeling his soft hair on my nose. I had him just the way I wanted, close to me.
Once again, the beautiful, grotesque sound of our skins colliding mixed with our pleasure-filled sighs and moans. Until culminating in my second orgasm and for him, his third. The sensation was so indescribable and more when you’re together with the person you wanted.
We hugged. Felix gave me a tender kiss on the cheek as he stroked my arm and hair. I expected nothing more from sweet Felix than adorable after care; he was just like that.
I think I was going to sleep next to him for the first time. Internally I squealed with excitement and returned the tender kiss on his cheek.
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66stitches · 15 days ago
Text
Marigold (II)
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𑁍 best friend!abby x reader
𑁍 Summary: Abby loved you in a way she believed you could never reciprocate. Per her friend's advice, she began to avoid you in hopes of healing her aching heart.
𑁍 CW: sfw, angst, a little bit of fluff, unrequited love, happy ending yippe, jealousy, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, reader neither described as masc nor fem, no physical description of reader besides that she is able-bodied, fighting, swearing, violence, ellie mention, a lot of crying, pet names.
𑁍 WC: 4.4k
𑁍 Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel
𑁍 divider creds
𑁍 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2
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You buried your cold hands deep within the pockets of your maroon-colored jacket in an attempt to ward off the biting cold, each breath you took formed a slight cloud in the crisp air.
"Don't you think it's a little cold for ice cream?" You spoke, looking over at your friend walking alongside you.
"Maybe you'd enjoy it more if you actually got a good flavour."
You and Ellie wandered through the familiar town, your thoughts running as you dragged your feet across the pavement beneath you.
You tried to focus your thoughts on anything besides Abby: the cold breeze of winter stinging your nose, your coffee-flavored ice cream that, according to Ellie, tasted like burnt shit, the fallen leaves and the sound they would make when you'd step on them.
But she always managed to find her way back into your thoughts, contaminating your brain with the presence of her memories. The memories that once brought you joy were now nothing but painful.
Your steps came to a halt as you stopped by the town's bar. Wooden panels adorned with colorful string lights and a paper that read "winter dance" stapled on the entrance.
"Oh, I almost forgot about the dance tonight," Ellie spoke as she finished the last bite of her ice cream. She tossed it in a nearby bin. "You're going, right?"
The town hosted dances and gatherings quite often. It was never really your thing, but it was Abby's, being the social butterfly she is. She always dragged you along, and you were happy to follow.
But Abby was no longer with you, and now you had no reason to go.
"No, I don't think so," you replied. "Are you?"
"Yes, I am, and so are you." She said it as if you had no choice in the matter, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Come on, don't just say no because of Abby. This is the perfect opportunity to get your mind off her," she sighed dramatically. "It's also the perfect opportunity for me to show off my dance moves."
You sighed, and though you were not yet convinced, you allowed yourself to consider it. "I don't know, Ellie.”
"Please? If not for yourself, then go for me. You're not really gonna let me go to this thing alone, are you?" she pleaded.
"Stop that. You know guilt trip always works on me."
She grinned. "I know."
"Alright," you said as you threw your hands up in defeat. "I'll go."
Ellie was right, you needed this. It was unfair for you to miserably lay heartbroken when God knows Abby was probably already out having fun, relieved to be rid of you at last. It wasn't fair for Ellie either who came a long way to see you.
𑁍
Nora slipped on her last layer of clothes and started combing back her dark hair.
"You're awfully quiet," she spoke, looking over at the blonde resided beside her, currently styling her hair into her signature braid.
Abby offered no response for a moment, simply going back to her task.
"Uh, you okay?" Nora asked.
"I'm fine, Nora," Abby replied, speaking without a glance at her friend's way. It was clear that she was lying, Nora could see that. Abby had been evidently troubled for weeks, her distressful demeanor was something no soul could miss.
Nora sighed as she placed her hairbrush down. "No, you're not. Tell me what's going on with you," she asked, though she knew she didn't need to. She knew it was you who's causing her this sorrow. In truth, that had always been the case, even long before you two had stopped talking.
"I don't know, I'm just a little worried about her, I guess," she said. Merely talking of you was most difficult for her. She had been trying to avoid the topic of you for quite some time now, always shutting her friends down when they tried to ask what happened between you and her.
"You don't have to worry about her, Abs. She's got that redhead friend of hers to keep her company." Nora tried her best to be comforting.
Abby almost had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes at the mention of Ellie. Of course she had noticed the two of you spending time together quite often, and as happy as she was that you had someone to keep you company, she couldn't help the seeping feeling of jealousy that contaminated her to the core at the first sight of you two.
“Please, don’t talk about Ellie,” she practically groaned, not doing much to conceal her obvious jealousy which earned her a slight grin from Nora.
“Jealous, much?” Nora asked.
That’s when Abby really rolled her eyes. “Nobody said that, Nora,” she said, albeit she knew she didn’t exactly give much room to conclude otherwise.
Abby didn’t want to admit truly how jealous she was of the red-headed girl and how badly your falling out had affected her.
She no longer wept, though she always felt as if she was on the verge of doing so. She tried to distract herself with the gym, but what once brought her happiness and contentment now felt like a chore. She didn’t need a distraction, she needed you.
She envied Ellie: she envied the way she got to hold you without that awful feeling of sheer guilt in the pit of her stomach; without that nagging voice in her head telling her what a disgusting person she is.
She envied the healthy relationship Ellie had with you, how comfortable she was in sharing affection without feeling as though she was fulfilling some perverse fantasy.
She was constantly plagued by the urge to go back to you, always having to remind herself of what a horrible idea that would be, as well as Nora’s persistent lectures which stopped her from doing something so foolish.
She was happy that you had someone to keep you company and comfort you, but she still couldn’t help the way she felt about Ellie. Her jealousy eating away at her every time she saw you together, doing things you once did with her, and she felt endlessly guilty for being jealous.
“Do you think she’s going? You know, to the party?” Nora inquired.
Abby considered it. She was unsure whether she wanted you there or not.
The sight of you would dim her mood, that she knew for certain, but she missed being in the same room as you.
“Probably not. T’was never really her scene.” She sounded different whenever she would speak about you. Her tone would change significantly. She sounded softer. Sadder.
Nora considered her next words for a moment before speaking. “Do you want her there?” She asked.
Abby zoned out for a moment, contemplating.
“I don’t know.”
𑁍
You stood beneath the cold wind staring at the town’s bar. You could hear everyone inside. Dancing, talking, yelling, singing along to the music. You took a deep breath and walked in, your eyes immediately scanning for Ellie.
You found the redhead standing by the bar with two drinks in hand. She met your eyes from across the room and gave you a smile as you walked up to her.
“So you came.” She handed you a drink.
“Yeah,” you responded as you fiddled with the bottle. “You were right, I’ve got to stop moping. This is good for me.”
Ellie tilted her head and smiled. “See? Told you. I’m always right.”
Moments passed, and you mostly followed Ellie around like a lost puppy while she socialized and met some new people.
That’s something you always envied about her: how she can make friends so easily and how confidently she carried herself most times.
You two then sat at the bar, allowing yourself to rest a little as you indulged yourself in conversation.
A conversation you were no longer paying attention to, Ellie’s voice slowly beginning to sound faded as your eyes were locked on someone else across the room.
And that certain someone was watching you right back. Deep blue eyes locked onto yours, keeping you connected from the other side of the room. Her brows were furrowed. She looked pained, tired, and yet still as beautiful as ever.
You didn’t think you would ever be in the same room as Abby again, but there she was, in all her glory.
She wore a tight green shirt that hugged her strong figure in all the right ways, along with some faded brown pants that accentuated her thighs.
“Stop looking at her.”
Abby was first to break eye contact, snapping you out of the trance that were her eyes. You averted your gaze from Abby and back to Ellie.
“Again, I am so sorry. I seriously didn’t know she’d be here,” Ellie apologized for what seemed like the millionth time.
“It’s fine, Ellie”, you reassured her, but you both knew it wasn’t fine at all. You sought a fun night to distract you from the ache in your heart that was Abby, only to have her come and bring that ache with her.
You were unsure whether you were surprised to see her here or not. You knew that she enjoyed these parties, but you assumed she wouldn’t be attending this time after what had happened. Perhaps you should have known better.
“There she goes staring at you again,” Ellie groaned and rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s just get out of here.”
“Way ahead of you.” You were already throwing the remainder of your drink and getting ready to leave. Ellie followed shortly after, but not without bidding her new friends goodbye.
You stood in the sidelines waiting for her as she moved all around the room.
You then found yourself praying to whatever god there is up there to allow the ground to open up and swallow you (or Ellie) whole, because with all of her careless wandering, she mistakenly bumped into Abby, nearly spilling the last of her drink on her. Nearly. That part you were grateful for.
“Oh shit, man, my bad,” Ellie chuckled. She did not sound the least bit apologetic. In fact, she only sounded proud of herself. You wondered if it had even been accidental at all.
Abby recognized Ellie immediately, of course she did. She was not only looking at you the whole time, but as well as glaring holes into the back of Ellie’s skull.
“Oh please, don’t pretend like that wasn’t deliberate,” Abby said harshly. Ellie grinned mockingly, glad that she managed to get such a reaction from the blonde.
“Aw, what’s making you so hostile, Abby? Makes it seem like you’ve got a personal grudge against me.” Ellie just kept pushing Abby’s buttons, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. If there was one thing Ellie was good at, it was riling people up.
You practically sprinted to them, grabbing Ellie’s hand and gesturing for her to leave.
You met Abby’s eyes once again, but this time was different, because now you stood close enough to really look at her again; close enough to get another hint of her intoxicating smell.
Once again, she broke eye contact.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think someone’s a little jealous,” Ellie pushed again, trying to get another reaction from Abby. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You’re jealous that she’s got me now.” Ellie grinned again, enjoying the sight of Abby’s scowling face.
“Ellie!” You yelled. You were getting upset as well as embarrassed. Whatever Abby was mad at you for, she was definitely never forgiving you now. You pushed Ellie’s arm away and tried to grab her and leave once again. You were ignored.
“Jealous?” Abby scoffed, she was the one grinning now. “You’re just a replacement. You realize that, right? If it weren’t for me leaving her, she wouldn’t even spare your desperate ass a glance.”
You were left aghast at Abby’s words, Ellie clearly was too. She tried to hide it, but it was clear Abby’s words had hurt her.
You opened your mouth to defend Ellie. You loved Abby, that would never change, but you would not stand for anyone talking to Ellie like that and speaking lies about you. But Ellie interrupted you before you had the chance.
“Yeah? ‘Least I never fuckin’ ghosted her or made her feel like shit the way you did; at least she’s happy with me. So yeah, got your girl now, bitch,” Ellie retorted, looking evidently proud of herself for that last sentence. Clearly she still found this fun.
Abby’s clearly had enough of childish banter. One thing about her is that she was never afraid to get violent.
She took a step forward and shoved Ellie, nearly knocking her off her balance. You were ready to interfere, until Ellie shoved Abby right back with the same amount of zeal.
Everyone’s attention was on them now, not including those who were black out drunk. The entirety of the bar went quiet, staring at the two women in excitement. As if you thought this couldn’t get any more humiliating.
“You both are fucking childish,” you yelled and tried to get in between them.
Quite the dumb move on your end. The punch Abby threw was meant for Ellie, but with your careless action of stepping in, you were the one taking the hit, your head snapping back.
What you didn’t expect, though, was for Abby to hastily grab your face, softly cradling it between her hands.
“Fuck, marigold, are you okay? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” she spoke quickly. The tone in her voice was scared and replete with concern. It was evident on her face.
She seemed surprised by her own actions as well. She didn’t think nor intend to hold you like that. When it came to her, protecting you almost felt like a natural instinct.
The feeling of her hands on your skin and her face so close to yours nearly made you forget the aching pain on your cheek.
You snapped out of it swiftly and pushed her hands away from you, sending her back.
“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” was all you said. It was bitter, laced with venom. Abby looked hurt, but mostly ashamed of herself. She didn’t speak.
“Now can we just leave already?” You groaned and turned to Ellie.
“Yeah…” she breathed, still glaring holes at Abby.
You grabbed Ellie’s arm and finally left. It took everything in you not to look back at Abby. You wished you didn’t care about her so much.
You were now back at your house, examining the swollen area on your cheek which you knew would soon be a shade of purple.
You spent most of your time in your head, replaying that incident continuously.
What you truly could not manage to get out of your head was how Abby had reacted when she’d accidentally hit you. That name she called you: you were certain you would never hear her utter that word again.
You were both confused and comforted by the gesture, but you tried not to dwell on it.
“God, she’s even worse than you described. What a bitch.” Ellie had been ranting and moaning about Abby for what felt like all night.
You tried to tune her out, not wanting to think about Abby so much. Is this what Ellie felt with you?
“You should’ve let me fight her. I mean, she’s big as shit, but I could definitely take her on.” She took a moment to observe herself in the mirror. “Definitely,” she repeated.
“Ow!” You flinched as you poked your swollen skin. That got Ellie to stop her ranting and come to your aid.
“You okay?” Ellie held your jaw and observed your cheek.
“I’m fine, it’s just…” you trailed off. “You started that fight on purpose, didn’t you?”
Ellie raised her brows at your question and smiled slightly. “Nah. Trust me, if it was deliberate, I would’ve spilled my drink on her. This was just a happy accident, as Bob Ross once said.”
“Yeah, well your happy accident got me a punch to the face, but I’m glad you found it fun.” You rolled your eyes and stepped away from the mirror.
“Actually, you jumping in between us is why you got punched. Seriously, what were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted you guys to stop.”
Ellie frowned and crossed her arms, an expression of remorse scrawled upon her features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. She’s just… she’s so fucking confusing, Ellie,” you said and buried your face in your hands.
“I know,” Ellie empathized. She wasn’t the best at comforting, always getting awkward in serious situations. But what she offered was her ear, and that was all you needed.
“I mean, what the hell was that? Did you see how she grabbed me? What she called me? Why does she think she can just do that after everything?” You were trying to remain calm, which wasn’t easy with Ellie staring at you so sympathetically. “Why does she still act like I mean something to her?”
“Maybe it’s ‘cause you do,” Ellie suggested, placing her hand on your back and offering you some much needed physical comfort.
It really did not make any sense, Abby’s actions only managing to confuse you more. Could she really have cared about you? Was there still something there, or did she merely feel guilty for hurting you?
Now what you had planned to uplift your mood and ease your sorrow had been ruined by Abby’s presence. It seemed as though she haunted you everywhere, bringing nothing but ache and destruction alongside.
𑁍
Abby felt weak.
She had tried to avoid you, as she usually did, but the memories of what had occurred the other night played endlessly in her mind, fueling her with guilt.
She’d tried to make herself stop caring, convincing herself that you meant nothing to her and that what had happened the night prior did not affect her, but to no avail.
She cared about you, and that would never change. She could avoid looking at your face as much as she wanted, but your image was forever seared into her mind.
Today was a particularly gruesome one. You did not bother to hide the bruise that formed, and Abby didn’t fail to notice.
She had tried to walk up to you and apologize, each time cowardice and shame taking a hold of her and turning her back around.
The idea of speaking to you again after everything intimidated her, which was quite unusual for someone like Abby. She never anticipated a time would come where she would be apprehensive about facing you.
Unfortunately for her, you did not lack discernment. You noticed her reluctance in making her way to you; noticed the way she was internally battling herself.
You stood outside, bidding Ellie goodbye as she left to go back home.
When Ellie was finally gone, Abby walked up to you again, and you hoped for what seemed like the hundredth time that this time she would not turn back around. You didn’t know whether you planned to forgive her or not, but you still wanted her to speak to you.
When she noticed you looking at her as she made her way to you, she stopped at a halt and turned back around.
Her actions and timidity were beginning to frustrate you, but right as you were about to speak up, she turned around once again and walked towards you, this time faster, as if she wanted to get it over with before her apprehension got a hold of her once more.
“Hey,” she spoke, her voice laced with discomfort.
The gleam in her eyes changed as she got another look at your bruised cheek, feeling infinitely more guilty.
You didn’t reply and simply waited for her to get to her point. You wanted it to seem like it was because you were mad at her (and you were), but in truth you were at a loss for words.
Because she was here. She was speaking to you; she was looking at you. It took everything in you not to break down into tears at that seemingly insignificant act.
“So…” she trailed off, eyes scanning everywhere timidly. “I just wanted to say that I am so, so sorry. For hitting you, I mean. I swear, I meant to hit Ellie but you got in the way— not that I’m saying it’s your fault, because it wasn’t—” she was rambling now, her nerves getting the best of her. If you were any less hurt, you would laugh and call her cute.
“What the hell do you want, Abby?” You interrupted aggressively, which earned you a look of both shame and bewilderment.
“To… apologize?” She said it more like a question. She was slightly rendered uneasy by your anger, but she did not blame you in the slightest nor was she surprised. It only made the guilt grow into something more unbearable.
“Apologize, huh? Don’t you think you have other things to apologize for? You think this—“ you pointed at your bruised cheek, “is what hurt me?”
Abby took another look at your cheek. She didn’t reply. She looked down and crossed her arms, hugging her sides. Your eyes followed her hands and noticed the way she dug her nails into the skin of her hips, her knuckles slightly turning white.
You remembered all the times where you would scold her for that bad habit of hers, asking her why she’s so nervous and having her brush you off and ask you not to fret.
“Just let me-“
“No, Abigail. I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear you right now,” you interrupted. “You said you never wanted to see me again, so why don’t you just stick to your word?” Your heart broke into a few more pieces at the mention of that night, remembering all the things she had said and that distant tone in her voice. Her heart broke as well, remembering how cruel she was and the painful look on your face.
“Why do you have to be so damn confusing? Why are you contradicting yourself by saying you never want to see me again, only to keep looking at me with those fucking eyes, starting childish fights, calling me marigold, and now you wanna try to talk to me and expect forgiveness?” You were yelling at this point, letting everything spill out with no control or filter.
And Abby was quiet, understanding. She was listening. Her knuckles were turning whiter with every word you spoke, her eyes slightly glistening.
“You left me without a word. You never tried to talk to me about what happened, maybe we could have fixed it!”
“You wouldn’t-”
“No!” You interrupted again, not wanting to hear her voice and only spilling what has been bottled up inside you. “Don’t speak and let me finish! You didn’t talk to me, Abby. Do you have any comprehension of how terrible I felt? Did you enjoy knowing that I spent nights wondering how the hell I was supposed to fix what you destroyed?”
“I-”
“I’m not done! What made you think that you could just walk up to me and-”
“Stop!” She was the one to interrupt you this time. “I love you,” she said before she could think. It was said quietly, softly, and this time she was looking you in the eye.
That definitely shut you up. You stood there, gawking. You were trying to form words, but none came to mind. Your head was empty, but your heart was heavy, filled with emotions you couldn’t quite place.
Abby was clearly getting anxious by your lack of response, so she spoke again.
“I don’t know if you’ll accept my reasoning for what I did, but that’s it, and I’m sorry. I did it because I loved you. Because I love you.” Her voice was shaking slightly. She was afraid. It was painfully obvious.
“Why- why didn’t you tell me?” You stuttered, dumbfounded. Of all the possibilities you considered that might have been the cause of what happened, this was something that would have never crossed your mind. Not in a million years.
“Isn’t it obvious?” She laughed, though her voice held no humor in it, laden only with pain. “I didn’t wanna lose you. I was afraid I’d ruin what we have,” she said, digging her nails even deeper into her skin. “But now I already did.”
The last part was quiet, spoken slightly above a whisper. She no longer met your eyes, detaching herself from you almost completely. She was sure this was the last time you would ever speak to her again. This is where you would let her go.
It undoubtedly hurt and scared her to reveal herself to you; to finally speak the words that were sure to cause you to let her go, but she didn’t want to be selfish anymore.
She would face her feelings and allow you to leave because of it. The words you had just screamed at her did not fall on deaf ears and she would no longer leave you ignorant to the truth and pained from the untold.
You offered no response. Endless words and confessions played in your head, but none left your mouth. You felt frozen, but you also wanted to know what else she had to say.
Abby’s apprehension only grew at your silence. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I knew you wouldn’t take this so kindly but I just needed to get it off my chest and I am so, so sorry. I understand if you don’t wanna talk-”
Her profuse rambling was interrupted by your lips on hers. Your mouth didn’t move, only feeling the soft plush of her lips against your own.
The kiss ended as quickly as it came. Her eyes were wide and she was left gawking. “So that’s how I get you to shut up,” you joked.
“Fuck, come here,” she breathed. She grabbed your face and swiftly pulled it to hers, meeting your lips in another, more passionate kiss.
You pulled her in further by the collar of her shirt. You were so close that you could feel your hearts beating against each other. You could not imagine anything more intimate.
Her lips were slightly chapped, yet still soft and plush, and she tasted beautifully. It was as if the heavens had descended from the skies and given you a taste of its richest, most forbidden fruit.
You forced yourself to separate your lips so you could catch your breath. You pulled away and met her face, her eyes heavy and mouth slightly agape. She looked beautiful like this, all blissed out. The sun kissing her face reflected the gleam in her eyes like light beams in the sky. You smiled at the scene.
“I love you too, you idiot.”
“I love you, my marigold.”
𑁍
a/n: this took so fucking long I don’t even know if people are interested in reading it anymore but here it is
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@grey-jedi12
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mrsparrasblog · 6 months ago
Text
You're losing me pt.2
pt. 1 pt.3
TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst
The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.
"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.
"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.
"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."
"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."
"I dinnae remember yesterday."
"What a shame."
He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."
"No."
"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?
"No."
"Please, a drink won't kill you."
"I said no."
"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."
"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"
"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.
While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."
Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.
"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.
"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.
"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.
"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.
All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.
**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.
**Medic:** ;)
Fuck.
————————————————————————————————-
4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.
"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.
"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.
"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."
"Then why didn't you say sorry?"
"Love."
"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.
"I'm sorry; it was an accident."
"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."
"I—"
"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?
If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.
And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.
"Captain, I—"
"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."
"Captain—"
"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.
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pomefioredove · 2 months ago
Note
Could you write a continuation of 'A Private Meeting" where it's revealed Rook was messing with them in some shape or form?
I've been thinking about this prompt and this is my ideal outcome. double post for today!!
part one
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a private meeting (rook ending)
summary: yuu makes a list of the top five cutest third years. the following-following conversation type of post: short fic characters: technically rook, vil is there, so is epel additional info: romantic I think, idk, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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"Well, that was a complete waste of an evening,"
Vil takes long, graceful strides into the dark Pomefiore lounge. It's already past ten, and most of the dorm is asleep.
Not him, though.
An inexplicable sense of disappointment is heavy on his perfectly postured shoulders tonight. He would never admit it aloud, perhaps not even to himself, but he was greatly looking forward to unfurling that piece of paper and reading his name.
He stops.
"I don't know why I even bother," he mutters to himself, just loud enough for his vice housewarden to hear.
"Ah, do not be so forlorn, my Roi du Poison! You already know the prefect holds you dear. There is not a doubt in my mind that your beautiful name was the first on that list!"
"...And frowning like that will give you wrinkles."
Vil turns over his shoulder to glare at Rook.
"Not that. This,"
There are a pair of muddy boot prints sprawling all across the pristine lounge, already dry and caked over the perfect carpet.
Vil doesn't need to be a hunter like Rook to know what creature they came from.
"Epel,"
Rook peers over the housewarden's shoulder, and tsks. "Shall I have a word with him? He's likely still awake,"
"No, no. You've done enough tonight," Vil says. "I'll handle this."
He leaves the lounge, and his vice housewarden, behind. This evening had already been more than frustrating, and he was not going to spiral over a little mud.
"Felmier," he opens the door without knocking. "Here. Now."
Even if he were not intimately familiar with the room and bed assignments for each dorm, he would know which blanketed lump was Epel.
Only one of them jumped, anyway.
Epel peers out from under his covers like a small child.
"...Now?"
"Do not make me repeat myself,"
He hesitates, and slowly slips out of bed, and comes to the door. Vil pulls him into the hallway as to not disturb the well-behaved students.
"I have already had an impossibly tedious day, and what do I come back to find? You, all over the carpet in the lounge. How many times do I have to tell you to wipe your feet before coming inside? Are you a toddler?"
Epel winces. "...Slipped my mind,"
"Of course. Of course," he mutters. "You will be responsible for your mess. Dawn. I want all of it gone before breakfast."
Vil was expecting him to argue, or, Sevens forbid, negotiate, but Epel says nothing.
And then: "Where were you, anyway?"
His eyes narrow. "I don't see how that's any of your concern,"
"Meeting?"
"Do not change the subject,"
"...Cause I saw Ortho about two hours ago, and he said-"
Vil takes a deep, calming breath. Now is not the time to spiral. He needs sleep. He needs quiet.
Epel blinks. "...I'm not trying to antagonize you or nothing. I just thought you should know,"
He pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
"Know what, Epel?"
"...That I have the list,"
Pause.
Vil looks down at the boy. Had he heard that right? No, he couldn't possibly-
"The prefect let me keep it after the party. I thought it was funny, so..." Epel looks away, almost sheepishly. "I have it in my desk right now."
Many, many new possibilities come from this. Epel is lying. He's distracting him. There's no way...
Vil is quiet. He should scold Epel for fibbing, but the slight possibility that he's telling the truth...
...that the real list is in that room, right now, with Vil's name on it...
"Show me,"
Epel disappears into the quiet room, and comes back with a folded piece of lined paper, almost exactly identical to the one Grim had eaten.
On the back is a game of hangman, and, unmistakably, the prefect's handwriting.
"I don't understand," Vil murmurs. "If this is it, what did we have?"
Epel shrugs. "Mix up?"
"No," he says, turning over the paper in his hands. "Rook would have checked. Thoroughly. He would have known..."
He stops. The thought hits him before he can even finish his sentence.
"...Unless..."
Vil's perfectly manicured fingers slide under the fold of the paper and open it.
There, in the prefect's familiar handwriting, is a list.
At number one: Rook Hunt.
Not a doubt in his mind, huh?
Vil re-folds the paper, confiscates it in his pocket, and looks down at Epel.
"Go to bed. You'll start looking undead if you keep staying up this late,"
"But-"
"No buts," he says firmly, turning to walk back in the direction he'd come from. "And... You may sleep in. Forget about cleaning the lounge tomorrow."
"-I have someone else who needs to be reminded of his place."
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thebibliosphere · 1 year ago
Text
Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.
Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.
Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.
When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.
The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.
And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.
If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.
It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.
It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.
And it's suffocating.
Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.
Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.
Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.
And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.
I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)
Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.
You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.
And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.
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sailortongue · 1 year ago
Text
Wingteam
pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
wc: ~1.5k
summary: the team decides that Spencer is in need of a date and they're going to be the ones to help him. But there's just one problem that the team doesn't know about: Spencer already has a girlfriend
a/n: this is my first time writing for criminal minds so they're probably all out of character but pls bear with me. binged the first four seasons in a month and i'm completely hooked on the show and spencer so hopefully i'll write more and improve characterization. any feedback would be super appreciated!
------
Spencer Reid was a rather private person, preferring to keep his private life just that: private. But it was getting progressively harder to explain why he didn't want to participate in group outings to the local bars. Truth be told, all he wanted was to get home to you and cuddle on the couch. Not that his teammates knew you even existed. It wasn't that he was ashamed of you! No, never. How could he ever be ashamed of the most wonderful thing in his life? No, it was because he knew he'd never hear the end of the teasing, especially from Morgan. And so he had decided that he would keep you all to himself, after discussing with you, of course. You had no issue with him not disclosing your relationship with his coworkers. However, it was this secrecy that led him to this horribly uncomfortable moment.
“You don't get to weasel out this time, pretty boy. You're coming with us even if I have to manhandle you there,” said Morgan. “And you're not leaving that bar without a girl on your arm,” he added, finger pointed at Reid in an accusatory manner.
It took all of Spencer’s willpower to not outwardly grimace. Like hell he was going to leave with any girl that wasn't you. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now,” he declined. It wasn't exactly a lie; he was already in a relationship, afterall.
“Oh, c’mon, Spence, don't you want to settle down one day?” chimed in Emily. “I bet you'd be an amazing husband.” She redirected her attention, “We just have to find the future Mrs. Reid, right Morgan?”
Morgan smirked, “Sounds like a plan.”
“No. There is no plan. Stop scheming. I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship. And even if I was, I don't think I’d need a team of FBI agents to help me get a date,” Spencer tried to discourage his friends, but to no avail. In fact, it just seemed to egg them on.
“Reid, I’ve never seen you go out with anyone. We’re getting you laid tonight and there's nothing you can do about it.”
“Never seen me go out with anyone? Should I be inviting you along to my dates?”
The sarcasm wasn't lost on Morgan, who rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.” He turned to look at Garcia, “Hey, babygirl, you wanna help us land Reid a date?” The grin that Morgan had whilst asking was soon mirrored by the technical analyst in question.
“Do you even have to ask, sugar?”
A quick glance around the bullpen at his gathered teammates told him that no one was going to help him get out of this. Spencer’s expression changed to one of panic, but not for the reason that his friends assumed, i.e. that he had no experience with girls and was just nervous. Much to his chagrin, Hotch made a different deduction, and whilst everyone else was discussing their plan for later that night, he leaned down to Reid, “Why don't you just tell them you have a girlfriend already?”
Spencer, who was nowhere near as skilled as Hotch at hiding his emotions, had shock written all over his face. He opened his mouth to question how Hotch knew that, not even bothering to deny it. But Hotch answered before Spencer could even ask the question. “I’m a profiler. To be honest, I'm surprised the rest of the team hasn’t figured it out. Rossi has a suspicion, though.” And with that, Hotch stood back up to his full height and resumed conversation with the team, asking what time they had decided to meet.
I’m so screwed thought Spencer.
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“I’m so screwed,” Spencer announced to you as soon as he walked into your shared apartment, dropping his satchel in the entryway. You looked up from the book you were currently reading, “What happened? Are you okay?” You closed your book and set it on the coffee table, giving your perfect boyfriend your full attention. He sighed and joined you where you were reclined on the couch, lying down and placing his head on your tummy, wrapping his arms around you in the process. You smiled down at him gently and brought your hand up to play with his curls, eliciting a satisfied groan from him. “What's eating you, Spence?”
He tilted his head up before answering, “I have to meet the team at a bar later tonight.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, not seeing what the issue could possibly be. “Ok? Why is that a problem?”
He adjusted himself to be propped up on his elbows on either side of you. “It’s a problem because they've all decided that I'm in need of a girlfriend,” he huffed. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't contain your laughter at Spencer’s obvious distress over the situation. You truly meant no offense, but he was just so gosh darn cute.
“Spencer, sweetheart, why don't you just tell them?”
“Honestly, at this point I just want to see how long it takes them to figure it out without me outright telling them. We're not supposed to profile each other, but it becomes second nature due to the job, so they're bound to pick up on it eventually. Hotch already knows, and he said that Rossi is suspicious. The others haven't caught on yet, but now Morgan wants to be my wingman for the night. How am I supposed to play this off?”
You thought about it for a second before an idea came to mind, a sly grin sliding across the features Spencer loved oh so much. “You're going to do exactly what Morgan wants.”
Spencer blanched, immediately objecting to your words. How could you even suggest that?
“Hold on, I’m not done. I’m not sending the love of my life out to flirt with anyone that isn't me. So what we’re gonna do is….
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“Oh, what's this? Did pretty boy find a pretty girl?” teased Derek. His friend practically looked like those wolves from vintage cartoons with hearts for eyes and tongue rolling out of their mouths. His question caught the attention of the rest of the table, all of whom saw Spencer with his eyes trained on a lovely young woman sitting at the bar.
“You should go talk to her!” encouraged Penelope.
“Oh, she's so pretty!” exclaimed JJ. “I agree with Pen, you should definitely go talk to her!”
Hotch watched as the rest of the team, all at least a few drinks in, hyped Spencer up with intoxicated enthusiasm. He had a barely-there smile on his face, watching the events unfold. He watched as Spencer’s face got redder and redder with the attention. As entertaining as this was for the others, it was infinitely more entertaining for Hotch, since he was certain that the woman at the bar was Spencer’s secret girlfriend.
Finally, Spencer gave in to his friends’ demands and approached the bar, seating himself beside the woman. Beside you. Knowing his friends were watching, he had to pretend as if he was meeting you for the first time.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he offered.
You glanced at him coyly before accepting his offer. At some point, the two of you fell into the usual rhythm of conversation you always had, speaking to each other in a way that betrayed how close you really were.
Back at the table, Rossi leaned over to Hotch and gestured for Hotch to lean in as well. “That's the kid’s girlfriend, isn't it?” he whispered. Hotch pulled back with an amused expression and gave the slightest nod, confirming Rossi’s question. Meanwhile, Morgan was placing a bet with Garcia about how long it would take for Reid to leave with you. Morgan was confident that it would be within the next thirty minutes, stating that Reid, who wasn't the most socially adept but was having such a lively conversation, must have really hit it off with you. They watched as Reid spoke to you, all smiles and wild hand gesticulations. And then there was you, the pretty woman who, unbeknownst to the team (minus Hotch and Rossi), was already irrevocably in love with their resident genius long before they took it upon themselves to be a whole wingteam. The radiant smile you wore matched the one Spencer had as you responded to him just as enthusiastically as he had been speaking.
Unfortunately for Garcia, Morgan won their bet. The two of them watched as Reid leaned in to whisper something in your ear. When he pulled away, there was a prominent blush on your face that the minimal amount of alcohol you had couldn't possibly be responsible for. You nodded at him, and he stood from his stool, offering his hand for you to take, which you did as you followed him to the exit.
“My man!” called Morgan from across the bar, raising his beer in Spencer’s direction. Hotch and Rossi chuckled, exchanging glances and shaking their heads. The rest would figure it out eventually. It might be when they receive a wedding invitation, but eventually nonetheless. 
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