#she was like “yeah. that one's mine now.” and this is how the story goes

[27dragons]

How do you write like you're running out of time? 😭🎶 teach me your ways 😭

HA! You think you're just throwing a compliment my way, but I'm going to answer this seriously.

What works for me may not work for you. Sorry about that. But here's what works for me:

Have an obsession.

Have a writing partner (or several). Either someone who actually writes with you or who consistently reads and encourages your writing.

Write for a long, long time.

Understand that it comes and goes in waves, and sometimes there are reasons for it and sometimes there are not.

Since 2018, I've kept a spreadsheet to track my wordcount. Take a look at the difference between this year (so far) and last year:

Note that my best weeks from 2024 don't match even my worst writing weeks of 2025. The spike of functionality at the end of 2024 was me preparing to do my Countdown to New Years; otherwise, I wrote one single story, and it took months, writing a couple hundred words a week. Then I watched Arcane over my '24 Christmas vacation and got obsessed (thank you, @monobuu, for that!) and started reading all the fanfic I could get my hands on, and then around mid-January this year I started writing and... kind of never stopped. But you can see that I'm currently on a downswing -- those several huge spikes were weeks that I was absolutely obsessed with getting Match Your Breath to Mine finished and literally writing in every spare moment I could steal; now I'm writing much more slowly across several projects while I catch my breath from that. (And also while I deal with a mild case of carpal tunnel syndrome.) ✨ Obsession! ✨

Writing partners are essential, too: Buu has helped me write some stories, and also I got @zillac to start beta reading for me and they've been an amazing writing partner; we haven't written anything together but we spend a lot of time bouncing ideas off each other and they've helped me work out so many rough patches.

And yeah. Write a lot. I wrote my first fanfic in 2014. And I wrote a lot of non-fanfic stuff before that, too.

(Do notice the actual numbers and not just the height of the spikes; the scale varies from year to year.) That huge dropoff toward the end of 2020 was when my best friend and co-author had a stroke. She was the one who kept me writing most of the time back when our mutual obsession was the MCU, so as soon as she wasn't able to keep pushing me, my output dropped fast. She died at the end of 2021 (and then my mom passed in early 2022) and grief (on top of pre-existing clinical depression) killed my writing even more for several years, aside from a few month in 2023 when I had an obsession with Sandman.

But even from 2018-2020, which were good years, you can see ebb and flow. I'm better at accepting that now -- a few years ago, seeing my current downswing would've put me into a panic tailspin of "oh god I'm losing my ability to write" but now it's just like... eh. It'll come back.

I'm still going strong on Arcane; part of that is that I got my depression meds adjusted, which gave me more energy to indulge my obsession. And a big chunk of it is knowing that people are reading what I'm writing and enjoying it.

This whole post is kind of disorganized and scattershot, but I hope it helps, somehow? Or at least informs.

(Also, I'm old. I'm past 50. I am, in fact, running out of time 🎶🤣)

[living-in-a-fantasia]

Theodore

[mbat]

if it matters im over here thinking more about some random WoW NPCs that i bet literally no one has ever spared more than a few thoughts about at most lmao

[anotheroceanid]

Im writing this instead of sleeping. Also, im writing directly on tumblr as the idea comes, but here it goes…

An Athenide Oneshot

Literature and history teachers loved her name.

That might sound nice, but truth is being the first child every teacher learns about at the beginning of of every school year was taxing.

It was always the same:

‘Do you know the story?’

‘How your parents picked it?’

‘… oh, sorry, I didn’t know you haven’t ever met your dad… But about the name, do you know the story?’

Yeah. Percy knew the story.

She’d rather not.

Something about being named after a goddess brought her just as much lucky as it did to the girl in the movie. You know, Juno. The one named after the goddess of marriage and then got a teenage pregnancy.

Or something like that.

Percy never watched that movie.

But what an irony that Percy was named after the girl who caused the first ever custody battle… As someone who never met her dad.

Don’t get her wrong, she got a great mother. On that side, the name worked like magic. Until it didn’t.

Because her mother was dead.

The gods were real.

Everyone in Cabin 6 looked at Percy like she stank.

She was sleeping in the ground of Cabin 11 being kicked through the night by some guy named Ethan.

And the only consolation prize she had was a Minotaur horn.

‘You’re being dramatic,’ Luke laughed when she complained about it to him, ‘Athena’s kids don’t hate you… Maybe a little, but that’s because you bathed their leader in toilet water.’

Percy groaned. ‘I hope they don’t make me pay for that.’

‘Don’t worry, nothing Hephaestus kids can’t fix.’ Luke gave her a pat on her back. ‘I mean, they don’t like working with plumbing, but you also almost drowned Clarisse, so it’s all settled. Mostly…’

‘My namesake’s fame comes from a magical fountain in one of the greatest cities of the ancient world.’ Percy mumbled. ‘And mine apparently comes from piss water.’

Luke chuckled. ‘Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Nobody ever gets a nice first week.’

‘Thank you Luke, this really helps.’

‘I, for one, think you got an awesome name.’

‘I know every bird joke ever. Against my will.’

Luke threw his head back in a laugh. ‘C’mon, let us not exchange owls for ravens.’ She kicked him. ‘Okay, that’s a bad one. But don’t hold this against me, I really think your name is nice. She was literally the only goddess once worth of respect.’

Percy stopped for a second and frowned. ‘Was? What she did to lose that respect? Let me guess, she ate that damn owl.’

Luke didn’t seem to find her joke funny. Great, now he was mad at her too, because apparently everyone slightly related to the Greek gods have some bird issue.

‘She died, Percy.’

‘Course she did.’ She rolled her eyes. Then she realised Luke wasn’t laughing. ‘She died? Weren’t gods meant to be, you know, immortal?’

Luke’s gaze shifted. He seemed to age ten years in ten seconds.

‘It’s rare, but happen. It’s called fading. But not in her case.’ His nostrils flared with rage. ‘Perse Athenide died after being turned mortal.’

‘She was turned mortal?’

‘Nobody knows what really happened. But she and Zeus had a real big fight in the fourties’, and she was punished by becoming mortal.’ He took a deep breath. ‘See, it happens sometimes. Happened to Apollo more than one time. But nobody knows why Athenide was turned human, just that she died like that.’

Oh.

Oh.

Percy heart raced, like she had just heard something she shouldn’t.

‘Athena got furious. Poseidon too.’ Luke revealed. ‘Instead of blaming Zeus, they turned against the other. Nobody knows why. The other gods… Well, without loyalty to put a leash on them, they became the rascals they are now. Us, demigods, were left forgotten. The kids of Athena got it worse. It’s pretty hard knowing nothing you are less than a substitute. Less than that, even.’

‘That’s not true.’ Percy snapped. It came out of her mouth without even crossing her mind. ‘I mean…’

‘It is.’ Luke interrupted. ‘Everyone knows it. It’s the same with Demeter’s kids and Persephone.’

‘Hm…’

‘They’re not mad at you.’ Luke sighed. ‘Cabin 6, I mean. They’re just annoyed that they have yet another reminding that they’re nothing to their mom.’

‘What a mean thing to say, Luke.’ Percy scolded him.

‘It’s true.’ He shrugged. ‘But it’ll pass. You’re new, you killed the Minotaur. Once this become old news, they’ll forget.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Course, Percy.’ He raised up. ‘It’s not like you’re the Athenide.’

[jackhues]

it's not hate... | oscar piastri

note: okay so i was bored and i got a random inspiration i hope y'all like this <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers

next

faceclaim: various, from pinterest

youruser & logansargeant

liked by y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, yourmomsig & others

youruser: gang's back together 🤘

pinned youruser: welcome back to america @/logansargeant glad you could join us! -> user: i love how she seems sarcastic but i know babes is so happy he's back

user: logan living out his frat dreams

user: this would be logan daily if he didn't go into racing

user: wait i'm confused... who's this? -> user: y/n y/ln! from what we know, her and logan are best friends since they were born or something. she finished her undergrad, but i think she's doing law school now (?)

user: i ship -> user: ew

y/bffsuser: not pictured is the entire drink falling out -> logansargeant: it wasn't my fault! she moved her head -> youruser: yeah okay, blame the woman -> logansargeant: i blame when she's wrong. and you are. -> user: stop they're so sibling

yourmomsig: aw no one posted the pic of y/n falling off the bed during the fight -> youruser: MOM! -> logansargeant: i tried but she stole my phone -> user: well we know who the favorite child is now

y/bffsuser: @/yourprivuser no photo creds -> user: IS THAT Y/N'S PRIVATE USER???!!! I NEED TO BE ACCEPTER NOWWW this comment thread has been deleted

oscarpiastri has requested yourprivuser!

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y/bffspodcast

liked by user, user, oscarpiastri & others

y/bffspodcast: surprise episode out now! take a listen for exclusive deets on logan's love life, his best friends, and the time he almost became a dad to a baby crocodile

tagged: logansargeant

user: i'm sorry, logan did WHAT NOW?

user: A CROCODILE?? -> user: well he does live in florida

user: it's a crime that y/n and oscar haven't met before. i need the irl best and the f1 bestie to get together and spill tea on logan -> oscarpiastri: well we might have to change that this weekend -> user: OSCAR??!! PLEASE DO IT! I BEG!

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Y/BFFS PODCAST - TRANSMISSION timestamp: 4:40-8:23

y/bff: i mean, you've known y/n your whole life, right?

logan: my whole life, yup. like, i was maybe only a few hours old when i saw her for the first time. you already know this, but like we have the same birthday, december 31st 2000. and we're also born at the same time, in the same hospital, literally right across the hall from each other.

YB: same time? like seriously? how did i not know that?

LS: *laughs* i mean, same time. down to the minute, at least. it's why we call each other 'twin', we're born at the same time. and like our parent knew each other and joked that we might be born on the same day... little did they know

YB: *laughing* that's insane. oh my gosh, and you guys have just been best friends since then. i love that. i assume you're the one who's got all the younger high school stories about her. i got some college ones, but you have the real gold mine, don't you?

LS: i've got my fair share of our insane stories, yeah

YB: mind sharing one?

LS: i'm trying to think of one that's not absolutely insane... oh okay! so one time, we were in the pool, it was summer, and then y/n just stops trying to murder me with the pool noodle and goes still. i'm confused as hell, so i'm trying to see what she's doing but she tells me to shut up. she's watching the bushes around the pool, so i swim to the edge of the pool next to her, and the two of us are just watching the bushes. i have no idea what's going on, but y/n's waiting for something. and then, a baby croc starts walking out of it, and it's so small, but like it's mom was nowhere. we didn't know what to do. and y/n *laughs* y/n goes, "oh we have to adopt it". i'm like what? but she just start spiraling "oh we're his parents now. he just saw us. what if the mom died? i don't know how to feed a baby croc? but i have to learn, it's my baby croc now." finally she calms down, and we get everything sorted out, but she cried when we had to leave the baby crocodile. adopted it and all within three seconds of seeing it

YB: *laughing* i'm dead, oh my god that sounds like her though. that's so fucking funny, she made you a crocodile dad!

--

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--

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Y/N ADJUSTED HER SUNGLASSES, the Miami sun nearly blinding her as she walked towards the paddock. Next to her, her racer best friend, Logan Sargeant, nearly skipped along next to her. She could feel his excitement at being able to race so close to home again, and it honestly helped lift her own spirits.

Logan smiled and waved at some cameras and fans nearby, grinning brightly and taking the time to stop and sign some stuff. Once the fans had trickled away, Logan made his way back to his best friend, throwing his arm over her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked, turning his head away from the cameras so they couldn't read his lips.

"I'm great," she promised.

"It's not too late to change your mind," he reminded her. "We can say you were sick, or you weren't feeling well, or you just forgot, or-"

"-That I have diarrhea?" Y/N grinned a little. "You know, all of your solutions to this thing seem to involve me just running away or ignoring it."

"I mean, it's how you take on most of life," he shrugged.

"I've never felt more called out in life," she rolled her eyes. "Look, we've got a plan. I head over to the garage first, take a few pics, then say 'oh I have to go. I haven't even been to Williams' garage yet'. I've got this Logie, I promise. Besides, I don't even hate him. If I did, there would be a lot more violence threatened and swearing involved. I also would've blocked him."

Logan didn't look necessarily convinced, but he didn't argue either. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "If you need anything, send me a 911 text. I'll be on standby the entire time, I swear."

Y/N smiled at the boy, waving goodbye as she dropped him off to the Williams garage.

"I know you'll be there," she smiled. "It's what we do. Be there for each other."

MEANWHILE, IN THE MCLAREN GARAGE, the Aussie driver was pacing back and forth, turning back to the entrance every few seconds.

"Yeah, great job at being subtle, Osc," Lando Norris, his teammate, commented sarcastically. "Who're you even waiting for?"

"Y/N," Oscar answered simply.

Normally, he'd engage in banter with his Brit teammate, but he was too nervous to give answers longer than a few words. He was finally going to see Y/N, in person. Not on the other side of a screen, not a flash of hair that ran away too quickly, not a caller ID he'd see on Logan's phone all too often. After all these years, he was finally going to be able to see her, face to face.

He had to admit, he did seem a little pathetic trying to contact her. But the DM he'd sent years ago on her public account had never gone through. And he'd left it, thinking maybe they weren't meant to know each other, simply to know of each other.

But then he'd seen her private instagram, with so few followers, he knew that she wouldn't be able to miss it. But maybe she didn't use it, or maybe it was an old account, but he had no luck on that account either.

He finally mustered the courage to ask Logan for her number and just reach out. He was surprised and a little shocked she said yeah, but he was in too deep now to change his mind.

"Oooh, who's Y/N?" Lando teased. "Is she a girlfriend?"

Oscar whipped his head towards his teammate, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Why are you a literal child?" he asked. "Y/N's a friend. Well, she's a friend of Logan's. His best friend. And everyone found out the two of us never met each other, and they went crazy saying we have to meet and whatnot. So I invited her here to take a few pictures."

Lando tilted his head, almost as if he was dissecting the truth behind Oscar's words.

"Logan? Logan Sargeant's best friend? Her name's Y/N?"

"Yes, Lando. And everyone says I'm his best friend in racing, so we have to meet or something."

"Alright, I believe you," Lando decided. "Call me when she gets here, I want to take pictures with her too."

"Sure," Oscar answered nonchalantly.

Turns out, there was no need to call him over, because a second after he'd said that, she walked in.

Oscar stared at her as she looked around the garage, her eyes drinking in just how different it was from the Williams' garage that she was used to.

Lando made a noise between a snort and a laugh, causing Oscar to glare at him.

"No, nothing," Lando nodded to himself, ignoring Oscar's silent question. He cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting across the garage, "Y/N!"

Her head whipped over to the sound of her name, her posture relaxing the slightest bit as she realized it was only Lando and Oscar and not some random person. She didn't exactly know them, never even met them, but she knew enough of them to be a little comfortable.

She smiled slightly as she reached them, "Hey. How are you guys?"

Lando looked to Oscar, who simply stared at Y/N, before decided to take the reigns. "We're good, thanks for asking. I'm Lando, my friend here is Oscar, and I assume you already know that."

"Yeah, I watch enough F1 to know that," she smiled, falling into easy conversation with the Brit.

"Well it's nice to know you didn't take an invitation from a man who's name you didn't know," Lando joked. "That's what I call important information."

"I went a step further and made sure he was known by a friend of mine," Y/N continued the banter. "My best friend." She turned to acknowledge Oscar, "Logan spoke highly of you for a long time now. It's nice to finally be able to meet you."

"Yeah, same," he nodded. "I mean, Logan's spoke a lot about you too. All the time. He still does. It's nice to meet you too."

Oscar resisted the urge to close his eyes and curse himself out.

Y/N didn't seem to mind his stuttering and stumbling. In fact, her posture seemed to straighten out a bit, and her smile turned a little bit more warm.

She was beginning to realize that no matter how bad Logan had gotten it, Oscar was human too. He was new to this, and he probably had someone defending him the way she defended Logan. Maybe she was a little harsh on him. She just didn't like how it wasn't fair.

It was why she wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to try and make things fair for people.

But in defending Logan with her entire heart and soul... she was being unfair to Oscar. She could try and be nice. It's only for a few minutes. After that, she could go back to avoiding him.

"So, how do you wanna do the pictures?" Y/N asked. "We should get them done now, I might have to leave early if my laptop doesn't work. I have a few assignments due."

"Right, yeah," Oscar nodded. "We can- uh-"

"The lighting's nice over there," Lando pointed out. "I'll take the picture of you guys."

"You don't wanna be in it?" Y/N asked.

"No, I'm alright," Lando smiled. "Unfortunately, I'm not best friends with Logan, unlike you two. Besides, I'm pretty good with a camera."

Y/N frowned at the reminder that Lando was one of the drivers who wasn't friends with Logan. She quickly fixed her expression, but Oscar noticed (only because he'd has his eyes on her ever since she entered). He was tempted to ask her about it, but she smiled and his brain froze up.

"Alright then, let's take the picture."

--

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others

youruser: miami, you were fun 🤍

tagged: logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri

pinned youruser: to my haters: fuck you, i'm always proud of logan. no matter what. i chose him as my best friend and i'll choose him again every time. i'm just sad y'all have never loved someone so much to understand what it means to always be proud of them, no matter any outcome. he's my best friend, my brother, and the outcome of race isn't going to change that

pinned youruser: i heard there was a logan's besties meet up @/oscarpiastri -> oscarpiastri: oh yeah, did you end up making it? -> youruser: swipe to find out!

landonorris: same time next race 👀👀 -> youruser: wanna do my class for me?? -> landonorris: i will understand nothing. -> oscarpiastri: as if you understand anything ever -> landonorris: all grown up now, are you? -> oscarpiastri: shut up

mclaren: it was a pleasure having you stop by! next time, you should stay for longer! -> williamsracing: stop stealing her from us

williamsracing: loved having you around for the weekend!

alex_albon: wowwww, i didn't even make the cut this weekend -> youruser: all the pics i took of you were 0.5s -> alex_albon: thanks for showing some mercy

user: stop she looks so pretty

user: logan bestie meet up... but where's logan? -> user: getting attacked by a haas in his home race -> user: oof

user: TELL EM GIRL!

user: i want what she and logan have. like they'd DIE for each other

oscarpiastri: it was great to finally meet you! hopefully it's not the last time either -> user: boy please TRY to be subtle

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PART TWO

notes: i hope y'all liked this, don't forget to like + reblog! alsoo... comment on this part (not any others) if you want to be tagged, i might not respond but i'll add you to the taglist if you comment.

but my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Protective Bob||Bob Reynolds x reader

Summary —you and Bob like each other but instead of being open about it you’d rather pine.

Word count-998

Warnings —club setting and mentions of a mocktail (it’s just cranberry juice, Sprite and a lime) 

You weren’t supposed to be paired with Bob Reynolds tonight. Normally, it’s you and Walker, your usual rhythm, your usual snark, your usual cover stories. But he’s tied up in Prague with Yelena, and the extraction clock in Budapest doesn’t care about partner preferences.

So here you are. In a grimy underground club that smells like cheap vodka and cheaper cologne, running recon with the one member of the Thunderbolts who looks like he should be curled up with a book rather than lurking in the shadows of organized crime.

Bob Reynolds.

He’s tall, quiet, awkward in a way that isn’t unconfident so much as… gentle. You’ve never worked closely with him before, but you’ve seen how he treats the team. Always carrying an extra pair of gloves in case someone’s hands get cold. The only one who apologizes when briefings run long. The guy who’d rather take a hit himself than let anyone else get bruised.

The guy who makes you smile when he doesn’t realize anyone’s watching.

You glance over at him now, pretending to sip a mocktail that was a mix of sprite and cranberry juice while scanning the crowd. He’s posted up just a few feet behind you, pretending not to be tense, sipping soda through a paper straw like it’s part of his cover.

Your target’s contact hasn’t shown yet.

What does show up is trouble.

A man you don’t recognize definitely not on the op sheet sidles up beside you, reeking of cheap whiskey and bravado.

“Hey there,” he says, leaning in far too close. “You look a little too good for this place.”

You shift your weight but don’t respond. Eye contact is the fastest way to encourage someone like him.

He grins. “That’s not a no. You here with someone?”

Before you can shut him down, there’s movement behind you.

Bob. Barstool scraping. Boots against sticky floor.

Then he’s there right between you and the man, shoulders squared, hands clenched at his sides.

“She said no,” Bob says, voice just loud enough to cut through the noise.

The man snorts. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m her… bodyguard.”

You nearly choke on your drink.

Bob, who spent ten minutes apologizing for bumping your elbow in the elevator earlier, now stands puffed-up and awkwardly firm, like someone trying to look like they know how to fight without actually wanting to. His chest rises and falls in short bursts nervous adrenaline, definitely. But he doesn’t back down.

The man sizes him up. Bob’s taller, sure, but not exactly threatening. Still, there’s something… off. Not dangerous, exactly, but unpredictable. Bob’s eye twitches. His fingers twitch. He looks like someone trying very hard to act normal and failing.

It weirds the guy out.

“Right. Whatever. She’s all yours, man,” he mutters, retreating into the crowd.

Bob turns to you, eyes wide. “You okay?”

You raise a brow, biting back a grin. “Terrified. You’re so intimidating.”

He blinks. “Wait—really?”

You loop your arm through his and tug him toward a darker corner. “Oh yeah. Especially that ‘I’m her bodyguard’ bit. Classic.”

“I panicked,” he says sheepishly.

You laugh under your breath, finally relaxing. “You were great.”

The rest of the mission goes off without a hitch. Contact shows, data transfers, you ghost out the back with Bob on your heels like a big loyal retriever.

By the time you get back to the safehouse hotel, it’s well past midnight.

You’re exhausted, and apparently, your room’s keycard doesn’t work.

“Seriously?” you mutter, jiggling the handle again.

Bob peeks out of the door across the hall, already changed into sweatpants and an oversized NASA tee. His glasses are off, blonde curls a bit messy. “Everything okay?”

“Locked out,” you sigh.

He hesitates. “Do you… want to crash in mine? Just until the front desk reactivates it?”

You blink at him.

His ears turn bright red. “Not—not like that. I’ll take the chair. Or the floor. Or you can have the bed—I mean, I wasn’t—”

“Bob,” you interrupt gently, smiling. “I trust you.”

His mouth snaps shut. Then curves upward.

Inside his room, it’s warmer than yours ever was. Lived-in. A book with a cracked spine sits open on the nightstand. Two mugs on the desk. He shrugs out of a blanket draped over the armchair and tosses it your way.

“Bed’s yours,” he says, sitting on the floor without argument.

“You can sit on the bed,” you offer.

He looks scandalized. “It’s your—”

“Bob. It’s just a mattress, not a holy relic.”

He huffs a laugh and finally perches beside you, both of you facing the muted TV, shoulders barely brushing.

You pull the blanket tighter. “Thanks for earlier, by the way. You didn’t have to step in.”

“I wanted to.”

His voice is quiet. A little hoarse.

You glance at him. “Even though it made you all twitchy and weird?”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “You noticed that, huh?”

“Kinda hard to miss. You’re not exactly subtle.”

He fidgets with a thread on his sleeve. “I just… I don’t like the idea of someone making you uncomfortable. You deserve better.”

That makes you pause. Your breath catches just slightly in your throat.

You nudge his knee with yours. “Thanks, Bob. For caring.”

He turns toward you really looks at you. You can see it now, in the soft focus of the room. The way he holds himself differently around you. Like he’s always on the verge of saying something more.

Your heart thuds.

You want to lean in. You almost do.

But then he moves first awkwardly, shyly offering the hoodie that was bundled at the end of the bed.

“You looked cold earlier.”

You take it. Pull it on. It’s warm and smells like detergent and something soft and boyish.

You sit there like that, shoulder to shoulder, both of you pretending the silence is easy.

And maybe, just maybe, it is.

[demie90s]

Onto You

Paige Bueckers x 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: She’s Paige Bueckers—UConn’s golden girl. Lights follow her everywhere she goes. And me? I’m just a face in the crowd.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Slow burn, sensual tension, secret affair, emotional obsession, opposites attract, poetic first-person

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:Emotional dependency, implied intimacy, smoking, language, themes of secrecy and identity pressure

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 0.6k

ᴠɪʙᴇ:Dark dorm room. Fingers brushing a lighter. Breath shared between lips. Her jersey in your sheets. “You shouldn’t be here.” “I didn’t know where else to go.”

It’s too hot for secrets, but she still brings them.

Shows up at my door in the middle of a July afternoon, red in the face, sweating through a black Nike tank top like she just ran a mile in nothing but adrenaline and attitude. No knocking. Just barges in like she pays rent, mouth pressed into a thin line, jaw clenched, sunglasses still on like she’s trying to hide from me. From herself.

“You tell her you were going to the gym again?” I ask, not even looking up from the joint I’m rolling on my lap.

She doesn’t answer. Just peels the shades off and tosses them on my desk like she owns the place. So yeah—she told the lie. And now she’s here.

I lean back in the chair, legs stretched out, lighter flicking. The fan’s on high, blowing the scent of sweat, smoke, and tension through the room like it belongs here. Like it’s normal. Like this isn’t some fucked-up in-between where her loyalty goes to someone else but her body always ends up here.

“You fight?” I ask casually, licking the paper shut.

She nods once, pulls her hair back into a bun, pacing slow. Controlled. The kind of slow that means she’s furious. She’s barefoot. No socks. Anklet glinting. Skin warm from the sun. Her face is flushed from more than heat.

“She threw my phone.”

“Oh damn,” I say, lighting up. “She finally figure out what’s not in it?”

Her eyes snap to mine. I smile. Blow the smoke out.

“Don’t be an asshole,” she says.

“You like it when I’m an asshole.”

She doesn’t argue. Just walks over, snatches the joint from my fingers, and sits on the edge of my bed like her legs belong there. Like she didn’t walk in here thirty seconds ago pretending this was just a place to cool off.

She hits it deep, eyes closing like she’s been underwater all day and just came up for air.

“You want music?” I ask, standing. “Cold towel? Water bottle? Some fake-ass gym ambiance to sell your story?”

She shakes her head. “Just you.” I stop. Look at her.

And there it is—the thing she never says when it’s dark out. When she’s crying or clinging or making promises she knows she won’t keep.

Daylight makes it real.

“You’re gonna leave smelling like me,” I murmur.

“I always do.”

I cross the room and stand between her knees, hands brushing up her thighs, slow, teasing. She’s still got the joint in one hand, looking up at me like I’m the only cool thing in this whole burning city.

“Where’d you tell her you were lifting?”

“Arms.”

I laugh. “Oh, baby. You’re about to work everything but arms.”

She leans in and kisses me first—like a dare, like an apology, like she knows she’s not going back for hours. The kiss is all teeth and want and guilt that doesn’t stop her, just slows her down enough to make it hot. She drops the joint in the tray without looking. Wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me closer until I’m standing between her legs like I was made to live there.

“You gonna lie again when she calls?” I ask, fingers already tugging at her waistband.

She nods.

“Good,” I whisper, dragging her to the bed, “then let’s make it worth it.”

———

It’s quiet now. No music. No TV. Just the fan buzzing on low and Paige sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples like the high’s wearing off and the guilt’s creeping in. Her shirt’s inside out. Her bra’s still on the floor. She hasn’t said much since she came. Not when I pulled her hoodie off. Not when I pushed her into the mattress and made her forget how mad she was. Not when I told her she didn’t have to be strong here.

And now? Now she’s just sitting there like she doesn’t know what the fuck to do next.

Her phone’s still in pieces. I saw it when she walked in—cracked screen, battery loose in her back pocket. Said her girl threw it at the dresser, missed her head by an inch. I didn’t ask what started it. Didn’t care. That ain’t my place. I’m not here to fix them. I’m here to feel her when she breaks.

She shifts, winces a little, and I smirk, dragging a cold Gatorade across the desk toward her.

“You gonna be sore as hell tomorrow,” I murmur.

She gives a breathless laugh, but it’s hollow. Still thinking too much. Still wearing the argument on her face.

“She said I don’t talk enough,” Paige mutters, like she’s saying it for herself more than me. “That I shut down. Walk away.”

“You do walk away,” I say, leaning back. “Right into my bed.”

Her lips twitch like she wants to tell me to shut up, but she doesn’t. She knows I’m right.

“She said I don’t feel anything,” she whispers.

“You felt me just fine.”

She goes still. Just breathes.

I walk over slow, press my palm against her back. It’s hot—her whole body warm like the fight’s still in her skin. But she leans into my touch like a reflex. Like I’m the only thing today that didn’t ask her to explain herself.

“She love you soft,” I say. “But you don’t know how to hold soft, do you?”

She doesn’t answer.

“She trying to fix you. I just let you be fucked up.”

Her eyes close. A tear slips down.

“Don’t cry,” I say softly, brushing it away with my thumb. “She’ll want a reason.”

She swallows. Hard. “I didn’t mean to come here.”

“Then why’d you knock twice like always?”

She doesn’t have an answer. Just pulls her legs up, tucks them under her, and lays back down. Her head hits my pillow like it belongs there. My scent’s all over her neck. Her hands find my sheets like they always do.

I sit beside her. Light another joint. Offer it silently. She takes it.

And for a while, we just exist like that. In the haze. In the heat. In the silence of her making the same choice over and over again.

[rooniearts]

Metal Wins Asks 1: Initial Reactions

YALL TORE ME APARRRTTTT IN THE ASKBOX LOL THANK YOU FOR ALL THE RESPONSES!!! I'm glad to see that the AU has been well received despite it all! :'D I already have enough asks about it (TWENTY SEVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!) to justify a longpost, so here goes!

Any trigger warnings that pertain to the Metal Wins AU are gonna apply here in the discussion, just so you're warned. You can find the warning under my pinned post

@railway323

IM SORRAYYYYYYY,,,, IT HAD TO HAPPENNNNN,,,,

@zezodacol

yeahh,,,, yeahhhh,,,....,..,

@akaneenaka33

Unfortunately, it's gonna have to be cruel and unusual punishment for now :') This AU works differently from my other ones in the sense that this one has a bit of a running story to it, so I can't tell you much without spoiling things.

The basic premise is that this incident happens and everyone has to navigate how they cope with it, Metal included. Some find their way through, while others continue to spiral downwards to rock bottom.

MY BABY BOYYY!!!!!!!!! MY LITTE GUYYYYY!!!!! AUUGHHHHH

@niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian

The true answer is that I just thought Metal looked really cool whenever I put blood on him and then it just kinda went downhill from there </3

So. Metal killed him and brought him there to mess with Sonic. That's about the lore I can give you about it for now unfortunately, except for the few other bits and pieces throughout the rest of this post :')

@sanicdetails

YOU KNOW WHAT. Good point. All crimes have been forgiven <3

@sparkyboi

NEVERRRR!!!! IF SEGA CAN KILL TAILS THEN SO CAN I!!!!!!!

BWUH,,,, Tails nation please don't publicly execute me I would be so very sad

@disgruntled-rat

YAYYY thank goodness...... I may rejoin my people..............

@thatbirdguyy

Unfortunately for our little guy, it is by decree of the author that he Must suffer. It is simply inevitable for any Tails enthusiast to put him through the wringer </3

ALSO YO?? I love your art and au sm! :D I'm so glad you find mine interesting too!! <3

@thecustomcosplayed

HE DID NOTHING WRONGGG THATS THE WORST PART,,, MY POOR LIL GUY DOESN'T DESERVE THISSSS

Ohohhhh yess ! I too love me a good whump au or two

Oh, he was long gone before Metal even showed up with him :( There was nothing they could've done

@cheeseburgerhelper

See, Metal wanted an efficient kill, but the problem is that Tails isn't about to go down without a fight. That's why he got so brutal, and also why he's sporting some scuffs and dents.

@humble-introvert0808

LMAOOO NOO MY GIRL AMY 😭 I do really enjoy this response to seeing me kill off my blorbo baby boy being "ooohh do mine next!! do mine next!!" bcus it's so so real

I prob won't do anything like that anytime soon, but rest assured that Amy's a MAJOR player in this AU and gets to be sad asf a LOT <3

@anactualfuckingnerd

Well. Yes. But I get the feeling that it's not what the most of y'all are looking for rn because Metal does, in fact, NOT get obliterated immediately :'D

Sonic WISHES he could've pulverized Metal on the spot, but no, he lost the fight and Metal got away. Sure, he was mad, but more angry =/= better at fighting

The next part (which I'm currently working on!) will go over this, but basically it was a fit of jealous rage. A "if I can't have this, then you can't either" type of thing.

But you're right. The real Sonic would NEVER have done that. Metal's realization of this fact is the basis that sets off his character arc and exploring that is what half of this AU is all about :]

(I use any pronouns for my version of Metal! I tend to mostly use he/him before character growth, and mostly they/them and she/her after, but y'all can use whatever)

YEAH they are fighting an uphill battle for that redemption arc after this one :') They fucked up BADDDDDD and they KNOW it.

LMAOOASDFGH,,, It's definitely a slow climb for her :'D All will be revealed in due time!

HELP NOOOO NOT THE BLAME SHIFTIIINGGG!!!! HES THE BLAME SHIFTER!!!!!!

I think he might have, like, a twinge of resentment towards him about it, but on some level he does understand that Silver had no earthly chance of knowing even if he is from the future. That, and Silver's like one of the only people who are willing to go along with his murder death revenge quest, so he can't afford to piss him off lol

Even still, I'm sure it comes out as snide remarks once in a while though :')

@i-only-created-this-to-read

The Tornado is fine! It's probably just sitting in Tails' hangar, collecting dust. No one can bear looking at it right now.

And oof. That's actually hard to say! I don't think I can accurately place it in a specific game timeline, unfortunately. But I can say that Sage isn't here nor has she been created yet (as much as I love her </3 but my co-auther hasn't played Frontiers) Eggman will behave much like he does in IDW, if that gives you a good reference point.

Eggman is very much alive, and we will see him! But no, he's NOT happy about any of this. We'll see this explored later, but yes, he absolutely sees Metal as a liability now that he's gone and painted such a HUGE target on their backs. And also little mad that he acted autonomously and took away a potential asset/victory from him.

From what I've heard, he needs either the real or fake set of Chaos Emeralds to do that....??? And right now he has neither, so no, unfortunately not :') He's never once allowed near any of the emeralds, because his friends know he's crashing out and will hurt himself and others if he goes super/dark. They spend the whole time playing Emerald Hot Potato to keep them from him lol

Sonic absolutely drops his whole being the better person shtick IMMEDIATLY though, at least regarding Metal. He's gone too far, and now there's no more second chances for him. As far as Sonic's concerned, Metal is to be destroyed on sight.

YES! Or, at least, Shadow tries. He tries to reach out, and he tries to help him cope, but Sonic just isn't open to it. He's not in a headspace to be able to receive any advice at all.

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Honestly, I like to think Amy probably came crying to him and told him about it pretty much immediately, and that he becomes one of the biggest comforts to her during all of this. He seems like he'd be a great listener and give some top tier advice <3

@anactualfuckingnerd

LMAOOOO yeahh,,.,,, Valid reaction

[whowrotethenote]

𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞

A/N // Short story set in the universe of Biggest Fan. This takes place five months after One of Your Girls.

I wrote the beginning and end at the same time and got a little lazy trying to connect the two. So, if it seems rushed towards the middle, that's why. The inspo for the short came from this anon. I didn't include the moments leading up to the actual appointment just because it will be mentioned and discussed in the next part, Desires. I hope you like it anon💗

Warnings // Angst // Adultery // Profanity // Themes surrounding pregnancy & abortion

Word count // 6k

Disclaimer // Biggest Fan Masterlist // Roman Reigns Masterlist // Join My Taglist // Main Masterlist // Navigation

Tuesday, January 2, 2024

“Never have I ever…kissed a girl,” I announce. 

Seven fingers up, standing strong in the lead, I read the room. Demi’s finger goes down, leaving her at four left. And then the unthinkable happens. Anthony puts a finger down taking a sip out of his Naughty Elf mug. 

“Excuse me?!” Demi shrieks with her head cocking back. 

He removes the mug from his mouth, revealing a smirk. “That’s right.”

“Now, you know we need a story time.”

“No story time.” He shrugs. “It used to happen all the time. How do y’all think I discovered I was gay? I had to experiment first.”

“Wait—so you’ve like dated girls?” I dip my head like it’s some grand secret.

“Yup. Kissed ‘em. Had sex with ‘em—” His uncovering of truths is cut short by us gasping in unison. He cracks up. “Don’t get me wrong—pussy is great. It’s just something about men I can’t shake. They’re terrible people but I can’t shake those bastards. What about you, missy?”

“Senior year in high school. Captain of the girl’s basketball team. Think Kehlani but a little thicker,” Demi explains. 

“Mmm.” Anthony and I both hum in agreement. 

“Understandable. And don’t forget that shot, miss thing,” he reminds her. 

She throws one back before shooting her four fingers back up. On the floor of our newly rented Manhattan condo, we were getting lit off left over Coquito I brought from home—the crumbs of Christmas dinner—with our second round of Never Have I Ever. 

The best ice breaker to ease Anthony into our world—who, if I’m being honest, needs no easing whatsoever. He fits right into us. The missing piece to our puzzle. So much so, I offered to let him move in when he shared that his lease was almost up. It was a no brainer. Within the last two months of his hire at the hospital, we became ridiculously close. Anthony is fun, wild, and he doesn’t give a fuck about what anybody thinks. Anyone who embodies those three characteristics is okay with me and mine. 

There’s too much extra space in here. Every which way I turn, there’s an extra room that needs to be furnished and filled with personality. Demi and I are barely home as is. So, we let him take the lead on decorating the rest of the condo. All I can say is, that boy has taste. He made this place look like it belongs in a Home & Gardens spread. 

In the living area that he garnished with cream and black accents—we all sit comfortably in front of the floor to ceiling window. The news talked of the snow sticking and to expect at least six inches by tomorrow morning. Flurries of white hauled down on the other side of the window, blanketing the city, prompting us to take full advantage of the fireplace for the first time.

“Okay, my turn! Never have I ever…” Demi’s eyes float up until the light bulb goes off. “Got my ass ate.” At the same time they put a finger down and reach for their drinks. Seven fingers still up, I wait for them to be done before Anthony’s eyes go wide.

“Wait—why are you still over there with seven fingers up?”

“Never happened,” I confess. 

“Never?” His head dips.

“Never,” I confirm. 

“Well, what about that Alpha from last summer?” Demi squints. “What was his name? Travis? Trey?”

“Terrell.”

“Yeah! Him. He gives me that.”

I shake my head. “Never did it to me. We didn’t do anything really.”

“And nothing from whoever you’re seeing now?”

I grin when all I really want to do is scream. “Who said I’m seeing somebody now?”

“Oh, come on.” He searches for Demi who gives him nothing. Picking up one of those cheap Christmas themed sugar cookies we baked earlier and plopping it into her mouth. “I see you getting texts and disappearing,” he continues. “Gifts and whatnot. You were gone a whole weekend a few weeks back.” His squints with the lower half of his face twisting in amusement. The wider his smirk, the deeper that pit in my stomach. 

“It’s nobody, really.” I laugh, countering the heat capturing my face. Did I forget to mention that he’s very observant?

He shows his hands. “Fine. I’ll get out your business. Whoever he is, that boy’s got taste. That Chanel bag for Christmas?” He puckers his lips while shaking his head side to side. 

“Ouu! We should make gingerbread houses. Let’s see what we got.” Demi shoots up from the floor. Our eyes snagging before she fully rises as I try to convey a thank you through my eyes. An angel, she is. 

“Only thing in that fridge is eggnog and to-go plates. Good luck.” Anthony shouts while going through his phone. 

Anthony is sharp and we’ve only just met some months ago. I don’t like this. Keeping secrets and hiding an entire portion of my life from the people that mean something to me. Not saying anything is too close to lying outright and that’s not who I am. That’s not who I want to see when I look in the mirror. Too many things surrounding him are not just unconventional, but immoral. Never mind that it's a secret hidden from the world, but what does his wife think when he takes extra days away and doesn’t rush home to her and their kids?

I try not to think about her too much. A stabbing—no burning courses through me whenever I imagine him with her and their flock of children. I picture a home full of love and comfort. Nothing like the one mine turned into after my dad got sick. I can see them cuddling on the couch. One of their youngest sprawled across their laps with the iPad. The oldest yapping on the phone in the kitchen to her friends.

She’s pristine and so well put together. She looks it. Always dressed nice in designer. That rock of a ring beaming in every photo. Only the strongest and most resilient woman could raise five kids while her husband came and went unexpectedly like a full moon. She’s nothing like me. I know it. I’m Lana—always late and tripping through life. Never knowing or even prepared for what comes next. 

“You okay, friend?”

My eyes flutter and I snap out of the maladaptive dream at the sound of Anthony’s voice. 

“Yeah,” I lie to him again. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Wednesday, January 3, 2024

“Mm,” I groan flipping the duvet over my head. 

The sun bullying me awake. My head—a constant pounding at my frontal lobe. My reward for another round of Never Have I Ever, Caresha Please and Drunk Uno. Since the week of Christmas, all I've done is fill my body with alcohol and it's starting to take a toll on me.

The laughs and muffled chatter that must be my roommates, travel through my room walls. I snatch the cover back down, one eye peaking at the digital clock on the nightstand. 

3:12 PM

The fuck?

I know we wrapped it up pretty late last night, but I haven’t slept in like this since being a teenager. A blessing and a curse—my body’s natural alarm clock from years of morning shifts and morning classes, would usually wake me up against my own will. 

The smell of sweet syrup and hopefully pancakes is what boosts me to swing my legs on the edge of the bed and finally stretch. Limbs sore and head still pounding, my slippers scrape against the floor in pursuit to the kitchen. 

“Sleeping beauty!” Anthony beams. I eye their empty plates and a kitchen so clean it looks untouched. 

“Don’t worry. Your food is in the microwave,” Demi informs.

“Why did y’all let me sleep so long?” I rub my eyes opening the microwave to be met with a full plate as promised. I slam it back shut and the buzz fills the room after I press the one. 

“Girl, you’re on break and you have no work. What’s wrong with sleeping in?”

“Don’t want my body to get used to it.”

The plate is full and steaming as I carry it to the open stool next to Demi at the white marble top island. I’m halfway engaging in conversation, with Gossip Girl playing on the TV in the family room over. The metal of the fork hitting my plate as I scoop potatoes while biting into the beef bacon in rotation. Everything’s fine. It’s not until I take my first bite of the scrambled eggs that shit gets…funny. The smooth texture against my tongue at first and then the mini spasm of my throat as I attempt to get it down. My stomach turns once the smell of the eggs becomes too potent while it’s all I can focus on. The biggest thing in the room it becomes. I chew and chew—breath growing heavier and spit getting warmer with every rotation of my jaw. 

The clink of the fork hitting the plate rings dramatically, halting Demi and Anthony’s conversation. It’s all a blur. One second I’m sitting there with them and the next I’m inches away from a toilet bowl. Gasping for air after letting out everything from last night and just a few second ago. The smell—sour and overwhelming, has my back hunching as another round ejects from me. 

“Lana, oh my god.” Demi’s soft voice is over me as her small hand finds my hair. My chest expands rapidly as I cough and spit what’s left into the rest of it. Slamming the toilet, not being able to bear the smell a second longer. I blink hard to allow the sitting liquid in my eyes to fall. 

A stack of tissue jolts into my line of sight and I take it. “Thank you,” I croak and cough again. I shake my head, registering in cloudy consciousness, that look she gives me. “Probably all the alcohol catching up to me.”

“Alcohol, huh?” Her voice fades out. I follow her line of sight to the decorative basket sitting on my sink. A case of L Organic tampons standing tall amongst the other junk inside. Just one left in the clear cylinder. Making it more than obvious that they’ve gone untouched for some time—otherwise, they’d be replenished. 

Our eyes, like magnets, find each other. 

Boxes and boxes tumble inside the mini cart hanging in the crease of Demi’s elbow. It looks like she’s doing inventory. She uses a forearm to swipe what’s left on the shelf into the cart. Two don’t make the landing and I bend to pick them up. 

“Demi—you don’t think that’s a bit much, friend?”

“My ass.” Her eyebrows hike up. Boxes still rippling into the overflowing cart and still falling. The more I pick up, two more come down to the floor nearly hitting me on the head. “Some of these damn tests be lying. This is not the time to guess or play roulette.”

She stomps away from me on a mission. I place the handful of tests back on the shelf instead of adding fuel to her fire. Stomach empty and head full of the worst possible outcomes, I follow right behind her through the aisle. 

No words needed to be exchanged as we stormed out the bathroom together, bundling up and ordering a unnecessarily expense Uber. After disarming and convincing Anthony that I had started my period and didn’t have any tampons left, of course. More lies. 

What the fuck is even happening today? It all feels like the longest nightmare and it hasn’t even been an hour since I opened my eyes. 

My luck isn’t just falling short—it's nonexistent. The self-checkout is under maintenance. So we stand in wait, suppressing angst, as the younger cashier swipes the dozens of boxes with a constant beep. All different sizes, different brands adorned with different fonts. All with that same word somewhere on them that makes me want to throw up again. 

I want to jump out my skin watching the young boy swipe and swipe, eyeing every single test like he’s shopping himself. Eyes hesitantly looking up at us across from him. Our eyes like daggers, pierced on his every move, as if he’s handling thousands of our hard earned money in his very hands. God, I wish he’d hurry the fuck up. Just as I open my mouth to say something, Demi is quicker. 

“Your business—mind it,” she spits. Crossing her arms, pulling her black Chanel shades over her eyes as he nods frantically speeding his task up a couple notches. We came busting in this CVS, calling ourselves in disguise. Already bundled in puffer coats, scarves and beanies to protect from the inclement weather—we added shades that defeated their purpose, seeing as we’ve had them sitting atop our heads this whole time. 

Resting my hands in the pockets of my sweats, I case the store. Some middle-aged folks in the aisles. A group of what looks to be college kids come walking up to the register. And the frail older man behind us in line, with a prescription bag and jug of water in his hands. I pull my glasses down immediately when he and I lock eyes. 

After the ring up from hell, it took the persuasion of seven car salesmen for Demi to talk me out of taking all of the tests, right in the bathroom of that CVS.

“A drug store is not a place to crash out,” she tells me. 

I opt to crash out in the back of this Uber’s truck instead. Bags full of tests like groceries stocked for the inclement weather the news promised us. 

“I can’t be—” The shake of my head finishes my sentence like a period. I can’t even allow that word to flow past my lips. 

“Yeah, no shit.” What the fuck am I gonna do? I can’t be. I just can’t. School. His family. My family. My god—his wife. My breathing picks up and suddenly it feels like the middle of July in the back of this man’s Ford truck. “Lana—Lana just relax. We don’t even know if it’s that yet.” 

“What else can it be?” My face screws up. Tears hot and threatening to spill. “Sir, can you please turn the heat down?!” 

“Sorry—sorry ma’am.” He eyes us through the rearview hastily. I didn’t mean to yell, but damn. The hot air from the vent was doing the opposite of calming me down like Demi suggests. Everything around me feels like too much. I snatch the LV scarf straight from my neck on the verge of suffocating. 

“You two have been careful?” Demi’s eyes pierce mine. Careful. He’s careful with just about everything else, except that. He’s grown careless. Yeah, no phone around me but it feels too good to pull out. Call only from a payphone, but snatching the condom off in the heat of a wild night. “Lana?” She calls my name. I know she’s expecting an answer but I can’t say it out loud. NDA and shame both having a hand to my mouth. 

In defeat, my head hangs until it’s buried in my hands. I can’t be. 

A vivid and erotic reel of all the most recent times, secluded with him, flashes through my mind as I come to the painstaking truth that I actually can be. Before Christmas in Greenbay? Around Thanksgiving? When we went back to the Hamptons house—fire burning and crackling, laying on the living room rug, sweating all the extra left over energy out?

Every time I think I’ve pinned the exact moment it must’ve happened, I come up with a different more likely occurrence, until it seems every time might’ve been the time. It happens so often now—there’s no way for me to sensibly dig out when this catastrophe was born from the chemicals of careless lust and passion. 

My stomach gets queasy. Tight and twisting like I’m preparing for the steepest drop on a rollercoaster. A foreign sound—something between a whimper and a groan leaves me. 

“I think I’m gonna throw up again,” I strain. 

“Please not in this man’s truck.”

“Yes, please,” the driver pleads. Eyes shifting from the road to the rearview mirror. His futile outburst earning him a glare from hell from Demi.

Bzzz! Bzzz!

My Dior bag vibrates between us. We exchange looks before I dig my phone out and sure enough, a text from an unknown number is the latest notification.

Vegas this weekend. He’s asking for you. 9543402985

Staring at the text on the screen, I fight the urge to throw up again. The timing is cataclysmic. My heart usually races for a different reason when I see those words. 

Muscle memory has me googling the nearest payphone or Link kiosk. “Sir, I’m sorry but can you stop at Penn station really quick.”

“You gotta do that right now?”

“If not now, then when?” I turn to be met with her head shaking. “I’ll add the stop on the app,” I tell the driver. 

Quads aching from stammering down three flights of steel steps—maneuvering through chunks of civilians like the most skilled quarterback—face burning from trying to regulate its normal temperature—I snatch the receiver off the hook. 

It dawns on me hearing the gnawing dial tone, that I don’t have any quarters. No way in hell am I going back up all those steps to the coin machine. My head rotates to gauge my surroundings. Only a few feet away from me, a young boy—curly fro, no older than fourteen dressed in a Denim Tears sweatsuit—leans on the wall with a guitar in his hands. A more nineteen thirties, blues reminiscent rendition of Snooze emitting from it. 

“Kid.” I step away as far as I can, inching in his direction without dropping the phone. “I know you got some quarters in there.” My eyes drop to his hat sitting at his feet. “I need five dollars in change. “

He looks between his NY Yankees hat and me with my hand out. “I want twenty.” 

“What?!” 

“Twenty or nothing.”

“How you want twenty and all I need is twenty quarters?” It's not like I’m short on money. In fact, I could make the kid’s day, Cashapp him five hundred dollars, and go on about my business. But something about him trying to hustle me, threw me left. Especially considering the day’s already unfortunate events. I’m already abundant in Ls. Two seconds from wilding out on the nearest person. 

He shrugs. “And all I need is a twenty.” I sigh deeply. Patience dropping like the sand in a hourglass. “What I gain from giving you these quarters?”

“You won’t lose anything if you give me the quarters for a five. It's an even exchange,” I bargain. I can see the internal battle, watching his eyes shift between me and his hat. “Look—how about I give you ten.” I show him another five dollar bill. “And you still just give me the five in quarters. You gain five, little man.”

He squints and then counts the twenty quarters off before dropping them in my hand. “Bet.” He snatches the two fives from me and resumes his ballad. 

“Punk,” I mumble slipping his quarters into the slot. I am well versed in the art of negotiation. Years of making a sucker out of my brother whenever he needed to just “borrow” money from my stash. Charged that ass interest too. 

The line rings only twice before that silence signals connection. “Paul?”

“Alana, how are you?” Never been better. I just got cheated out of five dollars. I’m using a dirty ass payphone in underground NYC to call my famous fuckbuddy’s companion. I’m almost a month late on my period. And the dad is public married with five kids already, and old enough to be my father. 

“I’m fine,” I tell the same lie two days in a row. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing down this way. Is it snowing over there?”

“Yeah—bad. I haven’t seen it like this in years.” 

“Well, you’ll be relieved to know you’ll be on the west coast, where there’s no snow by this time on Friday.”

“I thought the show was in Canada?”

“It is,” he confirms. “He doesn’t plan on staying though. He has business in Vegas the next day so it makes sense to just leave.”

“I’ll be staying until Sunday?”

“Monday, actually. I’ll be sending over the flight and hotel details soon.” I nod as if he can see me. “You ever been to Vegas?”

“No.” Before him, I hadn’t really been anywhere. 

“I don’t think it’s anything special unless you’re into gambling.”

“Good to know.” The conversation is static—robotic almost. Or maybe that’s in my head. Every pause feeling like a confession of some sort. Every word I push out feels like I should be saying something else. 

“Anything else going on?” He pokes. 

My mouth opens then shuts. My catastrophic possibility—likely to affect everyone around me, including the man on the phone—hanging tight on prison bars, begging to be set free. This doesn’t feel right. All the secrets. All the suppression. There’s no way I’d be able to do this in front of him after knowing whether I am or am not. So I decide right here that I won’t know. 

Snow flurries land and melt on my face all at once as I jog back to the truck. “Thank you,” I tell the man for the unpredicted stop, right before he pulls off. Demi’s eyes burning on me like the brightest light in a room.

“I guess you’re leaving this weekend.”

I nod. A pause hangs between us. It’s louder than All I Want For Christmas playing on the radio. “I’m not taking those.” My confession breaks free. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

I finally meet her gaze. Her eyes wide and brows lifting to her hairline damn near. “I’m not taking those,” I repeat. “The tests.”

“I’m confused. Did you just come on or something?” She looks me over as if the evidence of my period would be on the clothes I’m wearing. 

“Demi—I can’t take those before I go. Imagine the two lines come up. I’m supposed to just go around him acting normal?”

“Or—hear me out—tell him the truth?”

My face screws up hearing such a simple anecdote that’s the furthest thing from simple. “You’re talking crazy.”

“What is so crazy about telling the truth? Unless you’ve already decided what you’re doing if the two lines do show up, and you just don’t want him to have any say?” Another lingering silence. It’s smoldering hot like the air coming from the car’s vents, yet again. “Wow.”

“We already know his verdict.”

“Oh, you’ve asked him already?” She laughs, but it’s vacant of any joy. “Great—just do whatever you want.” She turns her head to the window after throwing a hand up. 

“Oh—you’re one of those?”

“I didn’t say all that.” Her eyes turn to slits from my accusation. An accusation I knew bore no weight. Demi is as liberal as they come. 

Our eyes sharp and daring don’t leave one another. I’m the first to break. Internal strife too great already. I don’t need two battles. I won’t survive either.

“This is nothing to argue about.” I face forward. Catching the eyes of the driver who snatches his away in a flash. Nosy bitch.

“Not arguing. Whatever the results…I don’t think the decision should fall all on you.” Her voice, way softer than that condescending one from just seconds ago that made me feel smaller than a crumb. “And I think you shouldn’t be so quick to choose, either. Believe me—I get it. This is probably the worst thing that could happen. But the quick decisions are usually the ones we end up regretting.”

My nose flares. Chin quivering as I focus on the snow flurries sticking and melting to rain on the window. I hate when she makes sense. This whole thing feels like the end of the world. One of those situations that’s going to stick to me for the rest of my fucking life. Regardless, of the outcome.

What I imagined yesterday—their picture perfect family, doing what loving families do—I’d put a crack right down the middle. Our secret—our bubble fed in the dark of expensive hotel rooms and hours after midnight—would have no choice but to come to light. And I don’t think I am strong enough for that. Let alone motherhood. 

Friday, January 5, 2024

I laugh to myself, watching in real time as he smugly grins down at Nick Aldis from the ring. Capturing his belt from Paul after just laying out Randy, AJ Styles and LA Knight like they were mere target practice to him. Just pawns on a board. 

I shake my head. A fucking menace. 

“Shitting me?” An outburst that nobody can hear after Nick informs Paul of the fatal four-way match to take place. I know Demi’s going ballistic back home. I stare at the phone on the nightstand provided by the hotel. I could call, but I know that’s probably going against something in the NDA.

Suddenly, a wave of dreariness hits me. Most likely an effect of traveling and all the stress. Although Google told me it was an early symptom of my unwanted event. 

When I wake up it’s almost one in the morning. Still no Joe. 

I shower again, wincing at the water hitting my chest. Usually a tell sign that my period is not far behind, but she’s almost a month late. Life has been moving way too fast, flashing by me. Holidays, traveling to meet him, semester ending—and I never stopped to register that I hadn’t touched a tampon in a month. My head has been gone.

On the plane ride, I decided to heed Demi’s advice. Slow the process of decision-making down by weighing everything first. Pros and cons. So far, the only pro I came up with, is that he’s well off and not afraid to splurge or share. My, you-know-what, would never have to grow content with financial struggles. 

So far that cons list is longer than Santa’s naughty list when he ventures into O’block. 

Child number six (I.e. the baby of the family usually forgotten)

Born out of wedlock

Most likely a secret for most of their lives. Not being able to tell the kids at school who their daddy is

Judgment 

Balancing school and … you know what

Gaining weight from the cravings

Giving birth and all the things that can go wrong with that

More nausea 

Going from an escape to an obligation to him

The cons just kept hitting me like all the dodge balls from the other team when you’re the last man standing on your side—until I was buried in cons.

I make my way downstairs to this hotel that sits in the heart of Vegas. Seas and lakes of lively people, all dressed up and most likely intoxicated. Loud and flashy. That’s all I’ll remember about Vegas. The people, the buildings, the scenery. In your face and in your pockets. 

I eat for the sixth time since this morning. Sitting by my lonesome now at a slot machine. Pressing away and feeding the machine more money to keep losing—a too familiar tango, sort of a reflection for the relationship between him and I.

Vegas nights…this would be a decent theme for a prom. The committee at the hospital had been searching for ideas already, to start planning their annual charity prom for the kids who can’t make their own.

I reach into my purse, ready to text Demi and throw her the idea to get her opinion. I stop myself. I don’t have my phone. Right…

My shoulders slump with the release of a breath. I keep tapping. And tapping. And tapping. Until I’m damn near one with the machine, tapping like second nature while I get lost in my insecurities. 

Is this what I want for my life? For my…

It’s lonely. It’s tedious. Searching for things to occupy my time until he shows up. Always wondering and worrying about what or who he’s doing when he’s not in my line of sight. It won’t magically change just because something or someone else enters the picture. Being a mother to his kid won’t suddenly usher in a new routine in place of him trying to get me in where I can fit in. It’ll be the same scenario. I mean, look how he treats the first mother of his children. 

This is not what I’d want for me and mine. Even when my father was sick, he uprooted being a father as a priority. He was always present. Always doing what his body would allow. He never had to fit us in. Never had to juggle two households and a career. My kids don’t deserve chaos. A chaotic childhood will only make them susceptible to a chaotic life. Kind of like the one I’m living now. 

All I’ve done is generate cons. There are no pros. 

The glow of the TV is the only source of light in this massive penthouse suite when the soft click of the master bedroom door prompts my eyes to pop open from sudden slumber. 

His large frame, a shadow so quiet, as he makes his way toward the bed where I sit up. 

“I woke you up?” He whispers.

“Yeah, but it’s cool.”

He drops the duffel bag by the foot of the king bed where I stand to meet him. Spreading his hands out to invite me into his arms. 

“Mm,” he groans into the hug. Simultaneously releasing a breath together, like he’s transferring all the tension in his body to me. But there’s no need. I’m already overflown with it. Wrapped in his big arms, it hides cowardly. Afraid to come out and show itself in front of him. That’s not the purpose I serve here. “Squeeze,” he instructs. “Tight, tight, tight,” he mumbles with his mouth right on top of my head. The grin sneaks on my face, not for show, as I grip his hard body as much as I can. Burying my face into his hoodie and sniffing in that familiar cleanliness that’s stained on him. The events of the week forgotten for no longer than the twenty seconds we embrace. SWV was right. The cause and cure. 

“Everything alright?” He leans back a few inches. Eyebrows wrinkling and something of a smile dancing on his handsome face. 

“Yeah.” I nod. Voice soft and unconvincing. “I’m fine.” Another lie. Three for three now. The slot machines downstairs would be blinging and flashing obnoxiously. His stillness lets me know he’s not buying the act. “—Just work things.” 

“Okay. I’m gonna take a shower.” I don’t say anything, already knowing the announcement is an invitation. I let him do his thing before he enrages out the steam filled ensuite bathroom. Body dripping wet still—arms big and daring. I almost regret my decision to not join him.

We don’t have sex. The subtle bags sitting under his captivating eyes tell a story of restlessness. He did a lot tonight just on camera, so I can only imagine. My reading proven correct when he sinks his large frame beside me, welcoming me into his space with a hand to the back of my head until it’s comfortable on his peck. 

“What did you do today?”

“Nothing really. Ordered room service. I watched Smackdown.” He elicits another smile from me despite the internal dread, reminiscing on his performance.

“Yeah? How’d you like it?” His large hand slides down to palm my stomach. A gesture that I usually ignore, thinking it was just comfortable for him. No different than the circles he draws on  my hip at times. But this time I freeze up like a possum playing dead. Previous thoughts vacuumed right from me. 

“Um…wait—what—what were we talking about again?”

His chest tightens under me from laughing. “Don’t tell me your memory is going before mine?”

“I’m not the one pushing forty.” I force a laugh. Grateful he can’t see that it didn’t reach my face. 

“The show?”

“Oh, right. Big bully Roman. It was really good. They should have you teaching classes on heel turns.”

“Mm,” he hums sleepily. “Didn’t do anything else while I was gone?”

“I went downstairs for a little bit. Played the slots. And some roulette…”

“Didn’t know you liked to gamble,” he speaks ignorantly and somehow still knowingly. I’ve been gambling since I’ve met him. Gambling my time and the discovery of this whole ordeal. And now, a new stake has entered the bet. The roulette of whether I am or am not still spinning with no landing.

“No…I don’t actually…”

He fights the dreariness in his deep voice for a while longer. Talking to me about his first time in Vegas with the twins amongst other things. It’s not long before I hear the soft snores. 

All I’ve wanted to do, for days now, is call my mom and tell her everything. Let the confessions roll from me like a ball down a hill nonstop. Release the angst from me to her, the way I’ve always done. Selfish tendencies of a child, I know. 

But sadly, I can hear her now. Lana, what business do you have with a married man? A man whose plate is already full when there are men that will come to you with an empty one?

Tina Maxwell—previously Tina Floyd—is a proud woman. Philly born and bred—her, bullshit, and low maintenance, just don’t coincide. Her heart is the size of Alaska, but her pride and self worth can fit two more of that colossal state. Hence, why immediately after my father recovered and just couldn’t seem to raise his spirits back up, with no will to bring back the spark in his marriage after it laid stagnant so long—she filed for divorce. 

I know people judge her for it. I was one of them. How could she leave a man that had just recovered from a battle of fighting cancer? 

The older I get, the more the curtain protecting that answer on the board lowers itself. Life is too short to waste on anything or anybody. She loved and still loves my father. But love is fickle. It burns out too quickly. She gave him a chance and he didn’t want it. She did her duty as a wife and a mother to his two kids. Stayed bedside, overextended herself when he was too sick to work let alone get out of bed, showed up to every appointment and waited in angst through every procedure.

After choosing him for years, she chose herself. And she always does. The only things that take precedence over that, are her kids. 

If she knew how I lay in this bed up under a man that belongs to someone else, while the strong possibility of carrying his child looms over us—she’d drop to her knees. And me along with her, too weak to stomach the look of disappointment on her face. 

Whatever we have—or whatever I think we have—it’s dead. The sun shines on all living things and we’ve never even touched the light of day. So, I might as well lay to rest whatever is left or whatever is expected to come. I already know what he’d want. I don’t need to ask or consider. 

He’s married. Happily or not is irrelevant because he’s not unhappy enough to leave. He made a promise in front of God and his family. She’s who he goes home to. He still comes in whatever luxury hotel room, whatever time of the night, relieving himself of that black band that he displays to everyone except me. 

So, it doesn’t really matter what results come from those tests when I get back home. Just like us, it’s already done. 

A/N // as always, if you read it or even a portion of it, i am forever grateful💗 feedback is welcomed.

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[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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Previous - Next

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[brittle-doughie]

Mine Your Own Business

[Main Story]

You: “How’s it looking over there?”

Sugar Gnome: “Doopty da! We will have a working rail cart system before you know it, your Majesty!”

You: “I’m liking the sound of that! Quarters Team, how’s the buildings turning out?”

Sugar Gnome 2: “Mm-hm! These shelters are coming out extra crunchy! Topped with more layers of syrup to withstand the heat! Though, I am looking a little melty over here…”

You: “Go for it and take a break, I know you guys will get it done.“

As you were walking by inspecting the mine construction, Dumpling Cookie joins alongside you.

Dumpling Cookie: “Everything is going to under way as you planned. We should have the mines fully operational in a few days.”

You: “It was about time I dedicated the effort of trying to restore this place. Especially nowadays with..y’know, my situation.”

Dumpling Cookie goes to hold your hand tightly.

Dumpling Cookie: “Y/N, you don’t need to worry about that right now. As long as you’ve got the incense to keep them away, you’ll be okay…’kay?”

You: “It’s not just that. They told me “the worst has yet to come”.”

Dumpling Cookie: “What could be more worse then what you already have went through?”

You: “I don’t know, but we should be ready for anything. Whether it be another one of the Ancients coming here or even a Beast Cookie themself.”

Dumpling Cookie: “If only a certain Cookie had told us of this a lot sooner….”

You: “Oh come on, when you put like that….”

Dumpling Cookie: “I wouldn’t worry too much. Salsa has been training the troops while I’ve requested Strawberry Crepe to move forward with more Wafflebots.”

You: “If it’s for the sake of the kingdom, I just wish everyone else didn’t have to get stuck in the middle of this if something does happen…”

Dumpling Cookie: “At the very least, we’ll be ready…”

You: “Yeah, you’re right…heh, you always seem to be.”

Dumpling Cookie: “Well, I learned from the best by that same certain Cookie..”

You both share a laugh together, something that hadn’t happened in a while. After that, the two of you just..looked at each other for a moment…

Sugar Gnome 3: “Um, pardon me, your Majesty. We have made a breakthrough with this railway!”

The voice of the Sugar Gnome snapped the two of you out of it, Dumpling clearing her throat as her cheeks darkened with blush.

Dumpling Cookie: “You…look like you’re about to be busy, I’ll just…be over there now.”

You: “Hehe…take care of yourself, Dumpling.”

Dumpling Cookie: “Yeah…you too, Y/N…”

Dumpling Cookie lets go of your hand as she leaves to attend to other areas of the mine in construction.

Sugar Gnome 3: “Dooty da! See? We’ve managed to fix up this mine cart and we thought that you should have the honor of being the first to ride it!”

You: “Are you sure?”

Sugar Gnome 3: “Who better then my Majesty! It would be the greatest honor if you tried something we just fixed up!”

You: “Well…if you’re sure!”

You didn’t want to sound like you were doubting the Sugar Gnomes. Their construction abilities were pretty reliable for how long you’ve known them, even before you decided to rebuild the kingdom…

You hopped into the mine cart and tested the sturdiness by pulling on it.

You: “Yep, pretty firm and well crafted. Good job!”

Sugar Gnome 3: “Now watch this! We’ll have you ride through a planned path that will bring you back in no time! No worries at all, doopty doo!”

You: “Alright, let’s do this.”

The Sugar Gnome pulled on the lever as you started to drive forward into one of the caves.

You traveled quickly through the cave, looking around to see an abundance of crystals and ores, just waiting to be collected.

You: “Woah! With all this, maybe we can use it to enhance the mine or even the kingdom further then we already could! Will it be enough though..? How far does this path go? Shouldn’t it be making a loop around back to the main mining area?”

You kept going further in this one direction, the cave getting less lit as you started to worry. You wondered if you had accidentally missed a turn or something you needed to pay attention or so.

You tried for the break and pulled on it as hard as you could, but it wouldn’t budge!

You: “Uh oh, UH OH! This isn’t good at all!”

You held on tight as the cart descended and increased in speed, unable to see anything.

You: “OH NO! GAH, OLIVE COOKIE WAS RIGHTTTT-“

Your voice becomes distant as you rode into the darkness of the cave….

———————————————————————

Dumpling Cookie: “What’s wrong with him?!”

Sugar Gnome 2: “Come on! Wake up!”

Dumpling Cookie and fellow Sugar Gnomes gathered around their collapsed fellow Gnome.

Sugar Gnome 3: “I…er, what happened?”

Sugar Gnome 1: “You made Y/N Cookie take a ride into an unfinished railway!”

Sugar Gnome 3: “What? N-no! I didn’t mean to! Even if I didn’t do it!”

Dumpling Cookie: “What do you mean “you didn’t do it?””

Sugar Gnome 3: “All I remember was working on the mine cart when I blacked out and now waking up to this! There was a voice, speaking to me…”

Dumpling Cookie: “A voice? Tell me, what does this sound like?”

Sugar Gnome 3: “Dutti-do! It sounded..persuasive and riddled with…darkness!”

Dumpling Cookie: “Darkness? Oh no…we need to report this and gather a search party RIGHT NOW!”

———————————————————————

You groan as you clutched your head, opening your eyes to a brightly lit cavern, lava below your path illuminating the place, your crashed mine cart a little further ahead.

“Sweet yummies…”

“GAH! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

You open your eyes more and slowly get up to see a mole-like Dessertian in mining gear running towards you, this..thing slowly following him…

“Eat…devour…all…”

“HELP! YOU!”

You barely stand up before he quickly ran behind you and hid there as you turn your head to look at him.

“D-DON’T JUST STAND THERE! GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!”

You face forward to this thing in front of you.

“Mmm…?”

“Uh…would you kindly turn around and leave?”

“…..Tasty….”

“Excuse me?”

“Mmm…cute snack….I want…”

You suddenly leaped back when the thing decided to lunge at you.

“HEY! I’m not on the menu!”

“Grr….MINE!”

“SEE?! YOU HAVE TO PROTECT ME!”

You sighed irritably as you reached for your blade, ready to fight.

“Guess talking is out of the question…”

[lunajay33]

Big Bad Wolf

•🐺🌑🏹•

Summary: Yoy know you shouldn’t love him but you can’t help want him, Peter Hale is all you crave and the only thing that quenches your animalistic thirst, but what will the rest of the pack think?

Pairing: Peter Hale x f!reader

Includes: 18+, age gap, virgin

•Masterlist•

Peter Hale was hated by almost all of the pack, stiles didn’t go one second in his presence without stating his distain for the man

Being a werewolf in this pack had its perks, being the only female werewolf made it difficult, the guys went every month totally normal after getting their anger under control and finding an anchor, but me it was a completely different story

The heat every month was unbearable, my body aching and hot for just someone to touch me but having no boyfriend mad it hard and Scott was taken by Kira, Isaac had Allison and Derek was like a best friend for me so I couldn’t ask any of the other wolves that were adequate enough to fully help ease my heat

And now with all the sacrifice shit going on I couldn’t even try to help myself out with the pack always having to meet up

Sitting in my room my body on fire and my pussy aching needing attention so badly it hurts, my hand travels down my body when my phone buzzes and it’s Scott telling me to meet at Derek’s loft for yet another meeting with new found information

Groaning I change into some fresh clothes and head over, when I get there everyone is already settled waiting for me

“Hey you alright?” Lydia asks

“Yeah just that time of month again” Peter walks up behind me and brushes his hand across my back and I accidentally let a moan slip catching everyone’s attention

“Oh this little wolf has got her heat bad, you need a alpha to help” he smirks as he goes and leans against the table next to Derek, stiles gags but I can’t help feel my panties soak at his words

“Anyways stiles found new information, these sacrifices are in groups of three and the section now…..virgins” Scott says and everyone sighs in relief except for me and stiles, a cold chill runs down my spine, shit I’m gonna get sacrificed before I even have sex

“So we’re all safe then right?” Isaac states and it’s obvious on mine and stiles faces that we aren’t

“Stiles? You’re still a virgin?” Isaac asks and stiles flails his arms

“Well not by choice”

“He’s not the only one is he sweet girl?” Peter says as his eyes trail over my body making my heat spike and everyone turns to look at me

“No way, girl you’re so hot, how do you go through your heat every month and survive” Lydia states as she brushes my hair back comfortingly

“It’s hard and god is it painful, and now I’m on the chopping block for this killer” I sigh rubbing my hands down my thighs and I can see Peter smell the air and his eyes roll back making my heart speed up

“We’ll protect you and stiles, no one’s getting sacrificed under my watch” Scott says reassuringly but it doesn’t stop the worry I feel

We finish up our meeting after a while and people slowly file out until a few are left just hanging around, I take my purse and start to leave when Peter stops me his hand on my waist and I shudder

“You’ve spent too many cycles of your heat alone little wolf, why haven’t you got yourself a man to help you, I know the pain is insufferable” he says with a grumble in his chest

“All the guys that could truly help are taken and or there’s Derek but he’s my friend, I guess I’m just left to deal with myself but you know that barely helps” he nods as his hands run down my arms, I bite my lip to hold back the moan

“You need an alpha that’s why, let me help you sweetheart” I can’t lie, I’ve thought about him so many times when I’ve had to help myself out

“Alpha huh? Are you able to really satiate my needs, are you up for that?” I say putting my fingers in his belt and pulling him forward

“Oh trust me, once I’m done with you you’ll finally be done with the pain, I’m what you’ve been missing” he says squeezing my hips

I nod not being able to get any words out without whimpering, he smirks leaning forward whispering

“Meet me at the old Hale house tonight, I’ll be there waiting” my knees almost buckle as he walks away and I’m left trying to collect myself

•

Even though my body is being called to Peter I’m still wracked with nerves, I’m meeting this sexy older werewolf out in the woods to loose my virginity too, yes I’m a bit older than some of the pack but still close in age, so the age gap between me and Peter isn’t as insane since I’m out of school for a few years now but I’ll do it to get this pain to stop and to dodge the sacrifice

I freshen up my body, spraying my favorite perfume on behind my ears, my wrists and ankles because you never know, I put on simple black leggings and a beacon hills lacrosse hoodie I got from the guys just like Allison and Lydia for being avid supporters of the team

Walking through the cool woods I try to hustle still aware of the threat that could be after me, but once I smell Peter near my body and brain flip into my animalistic urges and all I can think about is him and what he’ll feel like

I near the burn house when I hear a snap of a branch behind me, I jump spinning ready to get taken by the killer but see nothing, I back up closer to the house and feel warm strong arms wrap around my and I know I’m safe as I let out a sigh of relief

“You okay?” He asks turning me around

“Yeah I just….thought I heard something” he looks around and his ears perk up to hear anything

“Come on let’s get to the reason we’re really here sweetheart” he takes my hand and leads me into the house and down to the basement, when we get down there it’s illuminated by candle light and a nest of blankets and furs, definitely not what u was expecting from him

“Woah did you do all this for me?” I as as he runs his hand up my check and through my hair

“A pretty girl like you should have memorable first time, especially during your heat” his lip kiss up my neck to my jaw and I moan my body starting up again as it hits in waves

He pulls back and his glowing blue eyes look at me as his lips brush against mine, gently guiding me to lay down

“Tell me this is what you want because I won’t be able to stop after we start with how fucking good your scent is” he growls as he breathes me in

“Please I need you Peter” he smirks as he leans back quick to take off my shoes, his hands sneaking up under my hoodie and I help as he pulls it over my head leaving me bare chested to him

“Fuck you’re perfect” his thumbs trace over my tits and I’m already shaking

“More please I can’t take it” I hiss in painful whimpers

He rips my leggings off and he’s quick to shed himself of his clothes too, now both completely bare to eachother, I take a moment to take him in in all his glory

I run my hands down his body almost hypnotized

“My big strong alpha” he growls at that and I know it gets him going

“Shit you smell heavenly I don’t know how I’ve resisted you this long, everytime you’re on your heat I just want to taste you” he grunts as he runs his cock up and down my pussy

“We’ll save that for another time, but just be gentle at first” after working me up to it with his fingers and my countless whimpers and begging I’m ready for him fully and from the sight of him he is too, as he leans over me our body pressed together

“You ready babygirl?”

“Yes please I need you” I almost scream when he pushes in stretching me to limits I never thought I’d feel

“Fuck you’re so big” I run my claws over his back making him growl

“Shit you’re so tight, perfect pussy, and it’s all mine now” he starts thrusting over and over and I finally feel relief from the aching pain, replaced with an immense sense of pleasure

“Oh god don’t stop Peter it’s so good” our skin slapping filling the room

“I’ve got you…..fuck…..let me mark you” his eyes flash blue and mine yellow in return

“Do it, make me yours” I didn’t need to say it twice as his canine teeth come out and he’s biting down on my shoulder and in that moment I scream out finishing as pleasure courses through me and him finishing deep in me and I’m shaking when he finally pulls out and retracts his teeth

His hands gently trace down my body as I come down from cloud nine and that ache is finally gone for once after all these months of going through my heat by myself

“You’re mine now little wolf”

•

The whole weekend he helped me through my heat and after endless rounds we finally talked and he told me he’s had his eye on me for a while and that by marking me he made me truly his and I couldn’t be any happier, I just don’t know how the pack will react cause I know the moment I walk into the pack meeting all the wolves will smell his claim on me

Scott had called us all to meet at Derek’s again after finding out someone was sacrificed, someone stiles knew

I know everyone’s already there I can hear them as I stand infront of the loft door, I take a deep breath and enter, and once I get closer Isaac, Scott and Derek look at me with wide eyes while Peter is smirking and proud, I can’t help but blush as I sit next to Derek

“There’s no way” Isaac states

“Wait what am I missing?” Lydia asks just as confused as Allison and stiles

“Seems you found a way to protect yourself from the sacrifice” Derek smirks patting my back

“Y/N! You lost your virginity and didn’t tell me omg I need to know everything!” She squeals but I know that excitement is gonna be gone soon

“Who was it?!” Stiles asks

I look up at Peter and he struts over sitting next to me throwing his arm around my shoulder

“Holy shit, Peter? You slept with Peter?” Allison asks stunned

“Look I knew you guys wouldn’t like this very much but he really helped me, you guys don’t know the pain I go through and he’s not just a fling”

“He marked you didn’t he?” Derek asks with a knowing look

“You bet I did, she’s mine now” Peter growled

“This is what you want?” Scott asks

“It is, he’s what I’ve been missing and maybe one day you guys can see what I see in him”

[kayhi808]

I have a Abby question. I was re-reading about her and after reading the birthday one. Do Bucky and Abby ever come up with that new trick for Uncle Steve? Also how does dinner with miss Grace go? Fondue can get messy. I feel Abby would be so excited by both fondue and Miss Grace coming.

Appreciate your Ask lil Anon!🥰 Thank you too for sharing that you re-read Abby stories. That makes me so happy! I find comfort in re-reading stories, too. Abby and Bucky didn't come up with a trick for that night, but her and her fellow Gumdrops did get Uncle Steve good for April Fools Day.(I'll try to look for the link)

Edit: April Fool's Day

Max Brenner Chocolate Bar is located in Union Square. Being in the city made Abby feel she was having a big night out on the town with the adults. Secure in her Papa Bear's arms, they made their way inside the restaurant. "Papa yook!! It's a candy store!" You walk over to the hostess while Bucky takes Abby for stroll around the store, Abby pointing out all the chocolates that caught her eye. "Can I has some?"

"Abby, that's rude." Walking up behind them, you caught Abby's last remark.

Abby's head whips around, "Sowwy, Mama. Cans I pwease has some?" You roll your eyes as Bucky laughs.

"Which one do you want? You can have one."

"I can has 2?" holding up 2 fingers.

"I said, 'one'."

Cackling, "I tried tricks you!" She wiggles to be put down and skips to your side to hold your hand to show you around the store trying to pick out a candy.

Meanwhile, Bucky gathers the ones that caught her eye earlier and goes to purchase them. He asks the hostess to bring them to their table after dinner.

Steve and Grace enter the restaurant, "Hey, man." Turning to Grace, "Sorry it was so last minute, but I'm glad you could make it. Abigail will be so happy."

"Uncle Steve! Ms. Grace!" Abby launches herself at Steve who easily swings her up and makes her giggle. "You makes it! Hi, Ms Grace!" Abby squishes Steve's cheeks, "You get pwetty dates now."

"Abs!" Leans away, trying to get her to let go of his face.

"Him's so cutes, yea Ms Grace?

"You're right, Abby. Him's is pretty cute." Abby claps her hands and cackles.

Bucky picks up the tin you place on the counter, "What'd you choose?"

"It hot cocoa, so we can all shares it."

"What a great idea." To the hostess, "Can you add this, please?" She nods and puts it to the side, before leading you to the table.

"Are we celebrating any special event tonight?"

Abby raises her hand, "It mines bertday." She holds up 4 fingers, "I'm dis many. Ima big girls so I can has FLAMBU!!

Steve plops her down in her booster chair, "Fondue."

"Oh yeah, fondue." Abby does a happy wiggle as she sits in her chair.

******

Orders were placed and dinner was eaten. Abby was sat between you and Uncle Steve. Abby has Mac n' cheese and tried some of your salmon and even mooched some of Steve's steak. She was enjoying herself. "Don't get too full, baby. Save room for fondue."

Abby pushes her plate back and wipes her mouth on her napkin, "I's done! Tank you."

"Oh, honey! I didn't mean you had to stop eating. If you're hungry...."

"No Mama." Lifting her dress to expose her belly, "I save this spot for fondue," poking a finger at her tummy.

"Abigail Rose!" Holding down her dress, "We don't do that." The table trying to avoid looking at Abby or else they'd break out and in laughter.

"I just wants to show you where I'ma put fondue," Abby says with a sad frown.

"Thank you, Baby. But we don't lift up our dresses like that in public, ok? Especially at the dinner table."

"Ok, Mama. I sowwy."

You give a big kiss to her cheek to let her know she's forgiven, "Silly girl."

******

A couple orders of fondue comes out. One even has a burner to make s'mores. You have them place that one by Bucky & Grace. You don't want a sugar loaded Abby near a hot grill.

Abby squeals and dances when the waiters come around to sing happy birthday. "Tank you so much! You sing so pwetty!" She waves at the waiters as they disburse. There's tall thin candles sticking out of the cheesecake bits. Abby did an excellent job of not spitting when she blew out her candles this year.

You tucked a napkin into her dress so she doesn't mess up her clothes. You knew she'd have chocolate everywhere, but that's part of the fun so you let her go. She enjoyed the dipping more than the actual eating. Holding out her hand out for the skewer "I makes for you Uncle Steve!"

"No. Try this, Abby baby."

Forgetting about Steve as soon as she heard Papa's voice behind her. "Yes, Papa?" Bucky put a s'mores down on her plate. "Wut dis?"

"It's a s'more. Its graham cracker, chocolate and a toasted marshmallow. It's so good."

"It a mushmaro samich?"

"Marshmallow."

"Dat wut I says."

"Take a bite, you'll like it." She bites into it & the marshmallow bursts and oozes in her mouth, on her hands, and down her chin. Bucky's made her a official mess, but she loves it. You cringe but let her enjoy it, licking the marshmallow & chocolate off her hands.

Once she's done, you take her to the restroom to clean up. "Oh goshness! I's dirty."

You both laugh, "Just a lil bit. But was it fun?"

"Mama, tank you so much. It wike...the bestest."

You hug her close and kiss her forehead, " You're welcome. Happy Birthday, my baby."

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unax @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly @idkyiamherebutiam

[lomlompurim]

What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.

Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.

What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.

(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)

So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.

The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.

His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!

And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.

The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.

Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.

Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.

The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...

Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.

"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.

"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"

"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"

-TBC-

[kwisatzworld]

In the Barcelona paddock, the conversation starts with a very romantic comment from Vale about his M1: “It’s beautiful. At the beginning it wasn’t like this. Now there’s harmony. Even the side exhaust, the one that looks out of time now, looks good on her. A bike is a kind of work of art. Like a woman. You can immediately tell when there’s something extra that drives you crazy.”

Are we talking about love, passion, or what? “About when something clicks inside you. I’m thirty years old, maybe I’m starting to understand women a little better. Just a little, don’t get me wrong.”

Because Rossi is like a rock star always on tour. So? “So sometimes it goes well, sometimes it doesn’t. Just like with rock stars, I guess.”

Maybe statistically there’s a slight difference compared to normal people. “Recently I got a couple of rejections that really left me flat.”

Should we believe that? “I think they do it on purpose just because it’s me. In fact it must be satisfying, like traffic cops giving you a ticket and you can see they’re enjoying it. I’m joking, of course. The cops are just doing their job.”

Have you ever asked a girl: are you with me because I’m Vale the champion, or just because I’m me? “Nah. They’d just feed me the fake version anyway.”

The first time? “Brno, 1996.”

It’s not a race. “True, but I link it to a race because within a few days I had sex for the first time, took my first pole position, and my first victory. The perfect weekend.”

And who was she? “A friend of mine. She was my age, and like all girls my age, way smarter than me.”

Do you ever have sex before a race? “Let’s just say it’s happened.”

Has there ever been a woman who changed the way you think a little? “There are people who help you grow. But if I said a woman had deeply changed my life, I’d be lying.”

Any awkward moments? Like cheesy jokes about being the fastest man around? “Yeah, it’s happened a few times. But I really care about doing things right. I’m pretty good at it, you know.”

Does Valentino Rossi see himself as a good-looking guy, a sex symbol, or just a regular guy? “Just a guy.”

How do you mix music and sex? “I like making love with chill-out or ambient music. Or a slow song by Vasco. Also Jovanotti. Yeah, I like putting on Mi fido di te.”

That’s a very sweet song. “Well, I do have a sweet side, even if I race at 300 kilometers an hour.”

Are you a jealous guy, Valentino? “No, not really.”

Has your mom started dropping hints like, ‘When are you going to find the right girl?’ (Laughs) “No, luckily Stefania has never given me that kind of talk.”

Do you ever think about starting a family? “Like me pushing a stroller along the seafront?”

Something like that. “It crosses my mind. Not often, though.”

And? “Maybe one day it’ll happen. But honestly, I don’t really see myself in that situation.”

Because of the stroller? “No, it’s just… I can’t imagine myself being in a position where someone’s always telling me what to do and what not to do. I’m way too used to my freedom, I’ll admit it.”

Rossi, how does social life really work for someone like you? “I’d say there are three Valentino Rossi: the first is the one who can really be himself. That only happens with true friends and family, maybe fifteen people at most.”

And then? “Then there’s the official one. The guy who talks, meets people, tells stories, signs autographs. The public figure.”

And the third? “The rider. Everything else means nothing, except for the people who work in the garage.”

And how much longer will Valentino number three last? “I have one more year on my Yamaha contract, but I want to renew it, maybe until 2012. We’ll see.”

So, Rossi, who’s your dream woman? “Megan Fox.”

A young, beautiful American actress with dark hair. “No, no, I’m not joking. Go Google her. She’s amazing. I’d do anything to meet her.”

Anything? Careful, think about that stroller. “What’s that got to do with it? First let’s meet, we’ll see about the rest later.”

[slut4christopherr]

— HOTEL ROOM —

PART ONE!!

warnings: m recieving, getting caught kinda?, sneaking around, gagging, cumshot, alcohol, weed, straddling

summary: you and matt HATE eachother, but on a school trip hou find yourself inside a hotel room with him for 2 weeks, but you and chris did something inside of the room whilst he was gone. read to find out!!

a/n: this will be a series/chapters!! also i will be finish my other story i'm just leaving y'all cliffhanging teheh, it will be done by monday dw!!

chris talking = orange

matt talking = blue

your bsf talking = pink

you talking = white

warning: divider may not work on light mode!

i finally get off of the plane, we are in LA!! i grab my suitcase and talk to samantha

matt had the fucking urge to dirty look me, i flip him off and he grins, chris walking closely next to him

i can't lie, the way he hated me, turned me the fuck on

"if we're not in the same room i'm GOING to flip"

i laugh and shake my head

"oh me too, i can't stand anyone else here"

i mock a gag and she laughs

teachers are assigning our rooms

then she suddenly says

"samantha and paul, room 382"

my jaw drops

"wish me luck"

i sigh, now i've got to spend 2 weeks with someone i probably hate

"matthew and y/n, room 383"

you have GOT to be kidding me? out of everyone here they chose me and matthew fucking sturniolo

my hand grips my suitcase as i grab the key to the room and get in the elevator, hitting 3rd floor

matts at the other side of the elevator, avoiding eye contact. let's just say. awkward!

as i walk out of the elevator my heart pounds as i try and find the room,

i say to myself

"383, 383, 383"

i finally find it and put the keycard in and open the door, i take one look and my face drops

matt walks in behind me and drops his bags, equally as shocked as me

"one fucking bed? oh fuck no, this has to be a mistake"

i shake my head

"go talk to reception"

"¡ can't believe im actually listening to your dumb ass"

matt walks back into the elevator and as he goes down i see chris walking past my room and he gives me a quick smile

"oh come on chris, just a smile, not spoke for ages!"

chris turns around

"yeah, s'been a while huh?"

i nod

"you going to this party tonight? matts taking this random girl so, wanna come with me? not as a date or anything just, for fun y'know"

i grin, loving the idea of an LA party

"'m in, but how we gon' get out without teachers seeing?"

chris chuckles and jingles keys

"didn't talk to reception for nothin' there the fire exit keys, so no alarm goes off”

i grin, nodding with the idea

next minute

matt storms out of the elevator

"fuckin' apparently they didn't mix it up, last room they fuckin' have"

i sigh

"i'll just sleep on the sofa"

matt nods and walks into the room

“see ya later, sweetheart”

oh the way he said sweetheart had me pulsing, i squeeze my thighs together and he turns around, going toward his room as i walk into mine & matts room

"i'm gonna get ready for this party"

matt looks at me and snickers

"do you know what LA party's are like?"

i laugh

"course i do, why? think i can't handle a big person party huh?"

i smirk and grab my black corset, a pair of stockings, a black leather miniskirt and knee high black boots

"ive just never seen you, i mean,anywhere really”

i sigh and walk into the bathroom to change

as i tied the corset, i sucked my stomach in so i can tighten it more but when i let my breath go, way too tight, i loosen it a bit, i look at myself in the mirror, and i smile, knowing goddamn right i look good

"i need to curl my hair"

i walk out of the bathroom and see matt in a pair of jeans and a checkered button-up tee, he looks me up and down before sighing and picking up his phone

after i curled my hair, a knock on the hotel room door, i stand up and lean my curling iron on the wooden table then look through the peephole, it's chris, hes wearing a fresh love hoodie and a pair of grey sweats

i open the door and grin

"well your early mister!"

chris' eyes linger from my thighs, to my boobs which the corset pushed up, to my lips, then my eyes

"your gon' get me in trouble t'night ma"

i grin

"nights not even started and your already horny?”

matt gags

"will you two shut the fuck up? and chris i-"

chris cuts him off

"yeah, we're done, jeez."

matt and chris are ready, they're waiting for me to finish doing my lipgloss, and as i finish, matt grabs his room keys

"don't expect me to drive you to the party as well"

i sigh

"'ll just get an uber, it's all good”

chris shakes his head

"no, your coming with me, your coming in my car"

i grin

"let's go then, what're we waiting for?”

as we walk into the house, the smell of alcohol and the faint smell of weed fills my nostrils, chris guides me to the kitchen where there is a heavy selection of drinks

“whachu want?”

i sigh

“jus’ make me somethin’ good!”

chris nods and hands me a drink a minute after

i try it and surprisingly it’s not death in a cup

a few hours later, me and chris uber back as were too drunk to drive at all, we’re sat in the back of the uber singing

hotel room — montel fish

as we pull up to the hotel, we step out of the uber and walk inside, chris gives the fire exit key back to the girl behind the desk and we walk upstairs, and i pull him into my room

“ma, you had me so fuckin’ hard tonight”

his words came out slurred

i grin

“want me to help, handsome?”

chris groans

“keep talking’ like that ill cream in my pants”

i push chris down on the bed, his head against the headboard as i crawl upto him, before anything, i straddle him and kiss him deeply.

he bites my bottom lip and i open my mouth a bit to give him full access, our tongues dance as we slowly pull away, i plant kisses to his jawline, neck, and keep moving down until i’m at his waist band

i look up at him through my eyelashes, his head nodding instantly, giving me permission to continue, i unbutton his jeans then unzip the zip, slowly, very slowly

chris groans and throws his head back in impatience and i grin, looping my fingers into the waistband of his pants and pull them down , his boxers following quickly

i was pretty stunned at how long he was, how was that gonna fit in my mouth

he must’ve saw how nervous i was

“you got this ma, cmon”

i lick up his shaft and decide to focus on the tip

“oh ffuuuck ma- y’keep doin’ it like that i’m gon’ cum”

i grin and my tongue flicks over his tip, i taste the precum on my tastebuds as i hear him moaning my name, his mouth parted and head leaned back against the headboard

“ffffuck y/n, yeah yeah, keep doin’ that, goin’ down on your enemy’s brother? fuckin’ slut”

i feel him twitch inside of my mouth, signalling hes close

his hand tangkes in my hair, making a makeshift ponytail as his hips roll up into my mouth as he finds his release, hot ropes of cum go to the back of my throat

i’m took out of pleasure when i hear the door slam and matt speak

“are you fucking kidding me?”

part two!! ⬇️

a/n; hopefully y’all liked this one!! i found this so fun to write

@mattsobvimyfav (heard about this before y’all)