#so the things i cared about lived on the floor

[minkieater]

when another member walks in on you ateez ot8 x fem!reader

silly little thing i wrote between clients today

smut below the cut! mdni ↓ dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, oral sex, p in v lol, lmk if i missed anything !!

hongjoong ☄️

“shut up slut, they’ll hear you. i bet you want that, don’t you?” he had your face buried in your mattress, drool slipping from your mouth, your ass up in the air where he was relentlessly drilling  into you. 

you moaned, you had stopped caring about your volume long ago, they would hear hongjoong’s thrusts before your moans anyhow. you clenched around him, only making him hiss out and reach over to push your head impossibly farther into the mattress. 

you pissed him off— you got a little too close to wooyoung, talked for a little too long and hongjoong was livid. 

“you want him to hear you, don’t you? want him to hear all the pretty sounds you make? showing off, huh? attention whore,” his words were venom, his lips inches from your ear with how he bent over you, foot planted on the mattress beside your shoulder. 

“are you guys oka— oh shit, i’m so sorry,” hongjoong lets go of your head only for the two of you to snap your faces up to the intruder, hongjoong stilling inside of you.

“what the fuck?” was all hongjoong could get out, a stunned wooyoung in the doorway, his jaw on the floor at the sight in front of him. “wooyoung! get out!” 

“it didn’t sound like you were fucking! i got scared,” you heard wooyoung yell as he closed the door behind him, leaving hongjoong to pick right back up where he left off. 

“don’t think i missed how you clenched around me, whore.”

seonghwa 🫧

seonghwa had you on your knees while he sat on the bed, leaned back on one arm with the other around your ponytail, guiding you up and down his length. 

in a black tank top and gray sweatpants he looked so fucking sexy in the living room, you couldn’t help but pull him into his bedroom for a minute alone — you needed to taste him, show him how much he affected you. 

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” his words were quiet, a low rasp to his voice as he tugged on your hair a little harder. your mouth slipped off of him with a pop, batting your eyelashes up at him with a knowingly coy smile.

he groaned, a little louder this time, his head falling back. “don’t look at me like that or your throat’s getting fucked.” 

you giggled, mouth attaching to him again, bobbing your head up and down a little faster now. he bucked his hips up little by little, using more force with each stroke and you took him proudly, small gags and noises of nasty wetness leaving your lips.

the door opened without either of you noticing, only catching a head of brown hair leaving seonghwa’s bedroom with a shriek of surprise. this wasn’t the first time yeosang had walked in on you, but it still made you laugh every damn time.

you looked up to seonghwa with a giggle on your lips after popping off him again, seonghwa wearing a smile himself.

“how many times do you think we’ll scar him before he stops coming in here?” seonghwa asks, letting go of your ponytail.

“if he was going to catch on, he would’ve by now,” you readjusted yourself on your knees during the pause, shaking your head before bringing your focus back on his delicious length before you. “you said something about fucking my throat right?”

yunho 🧍🏻‍♂️

you and yunho had been waiting for a day alone for weeks. for too long had you been silenced in the hours from one to three, his fingers clamped over your lips or stuffed between them in an attempt to keep you quiet. comeback season was busy, and when there was time off everyone lazed around the dorms and didn’t fucking leave. 

now, on your third consecutive day off, the dorms were empty and yunho took advantage. he had your hands pinned under your back with a belt he had just taken off, hips snapping into you so hard the sound was sure to be heard outside. 

“sloppy little cunt sucking me right the fuck in,” he hissed, hips cracking into your thighs, his fingers keeping you still.

you were wailing at this point, tears streaming down your face, begging for reprieve while also thinking if he stopped you’d die. 

“don’t stop,” you repeated, a mantra on your tongue, from your hips being slanted upward his cock was hitting that spongy spot in your walls that drove you fucking insane. 

you were so close, mere thrusts away from hitting your peak, and the door busted open, an out of breath mingi stood at the door.

“the rest of the guys are walking in right behind me,” mingi’s words were panicked in a warning, but yunho didn’t stop. he ignored his friend, knowing you were so close, wanting your high to crash over you so he could follow. 

you screamed — mingi couldn’t move. yunho fucked you through it, thrusts only quickening to meet his own end, until he doubled on top of you with two large hands landing right beside your head. 

yunho turned to look at mingi, a smirk playing on his lips with heaving breaths, “enjoyed the show?” 

yeosang 👥

everyday yeosang woke you up the same way: his fingers or his head between your thighs until you were creaming around him, then he replaced it with his cock. it wasn’t a good morning until you had at least one, if not two orgasms. 

this morning he was greedy— it seemed he didn’t want to let you go. you came on his face once, his fingers a second time, and he was working you up to a third on his lap. if yeosang could do anything it was last, his stamina was like no other, he could go for hours if you let him. 

you had your knees planted on the mattress beside his hips, his cock hitting your cervix continuously as you grind your hips back and forth against him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. his head was leaning against the headboard, leaving his throat open to you, where you licked and sucked pretty little bruises across the base of his neck, little whines leaving his throat.

“yes, baby, ‘m so close,” he croaked out, his voice raspy and deep, his abs clenching with every grind of your hips. 

“cum for me then yeo, fill me up,” your hand moved from his shoulder to wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling him towards you to connect your chest to his.

your mornings weren’t usually so filthy, never downright nasty, bringing your skin to touch his brought a sense of intimacy back to your morning. 

his head fell onto your shoulder with a groan, filling you up just as you told him to, thighs twitching beneath you. you moaned at the feeling, letting your head rest atop his, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. 

“you guys awake yet?” seonghwa popped into your room, making you twist your body around to look at him, eyes wide.

“definitely awake,” he pulled his lips into a line, bidding you a singular nod before closing the door again. a huff of amusement left your lips as you looked back down to the boy laying on your shoulder, patting his head, giving him a moment to come back before you’d take your morning shower together.

san 🚪

san couldn’t wait. you were at your favorite club, both tipsy and horny, dancing to the beat of the song before san’s fingers dipped below your dress. you looked up to him with wide eyes, met with a filthy smirk and a pair of dimples that ushered you towards the men’s bathroom. 

“san, anyone could walk in,” you were uneasy, san was never so impatient that he needed you then and there. he’d never portrayed signs of exhibitionism before today, your sex life had always been private — you liked it that way, yet the hunger in his eyes and the spark left in the wake of his fingers on your skin made you excited. 

“let them see how good i fuck you then,” he hummed, fingers flipping up your dress, plunging into your core that was so wet he slipped in. the squelch of his fingers was deafening, you thanked god the bathroom was empty. 

he stuffed you into a stall, fingers still curling into you before he slipped your panties to the side, replacing his fingers with his cock. the pace he set was brutal, your hands bracing the wall above the toilet as he fucked into you from behind, hips slapping into your ass. 

you fought to keep your moans inside, pointless as the sound of skin slapping would overpower them anyway. san groaned, “knew you’d be wet, naughty girl. you were basically begging me to fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to see.” 

a whine escaped you, nails clawing against the tile of the wall. he slipped a hand around your hips, coming between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace he knew would have you coming in seconds 

“fuck, san, harder please,” you breathed out, head dipping below your arms, hanging between them. 

he listened, quickening his pace, fucking you somehow harder than he was before. his fingers worked in a quick rhythm, making the pit in your stomach grow until you were overflowing on his dick.

“yeah, that’s it, baby. cum all over my cock,” he was drunk off your pussy, words slurring together, keeping his pace on your clit to ride you through it. 

when you were twitching from overstimulation he emptied himself inside you, head falling to the center of your spine. there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths in the public restroom, you and san catching your breath and your sanity before he flipped your dress back down and zippered himself back up.

when you left the stall, jongho was washing his hands at the sink, barely giving you a glance as you stepped into view. 

“how long have you been in here?” san asked, a pink rising to his cheeks, looking like a completely different person than he had moments ago.

“unfortunately, long enough. broke the seal so i had no choice,” jongho shrugs as he grabs paper towels, drying off his palms. “make sure you two wash your hands.” 

mingi 🫶

the say my name stage always fucked you up, it never failed. being on stage period always fucked mingi up, that never failed either. it was safe to say that your post-show routine was always fucking backstage, it happened every stop, every show, you lost count of how many dressing rooms in foreign countries you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life in.

what was abnormal was mingi not waiting until the show was over. always professional, mingi waited until everyone was no longer sprinting around backstage with mini-fans and makeup brushes to touch up the eight boys before they had to head back out onstage. 

as he came off the stage, his walk was fast paced, precise. it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know what it meant. his fingers hooked around your arm, dragged you further backstage, and had you in a random closet in a stadium completely foreign to you. 

he was quick to split you open, granted say my name was within their first set so you were already dripping by the time he made it between your legs. 

“always so ready for me,” he mumbled out, zeroed in on your center but eyes still not fully clear. in his post performance haze he was always rougher, selfish, not a care in the world for you. it was your favorite. 

“put it in,” you barked out, hips bucking toward him and he was sheathed within seconds. giving you no time to get used to the stretch you wheezed, head lolling onto his shoulder, and he let loose. 

he fucked you stupid, you joined him in whatever haze his brain was under as he pounded into you, hips clapping into the silence of the dark storage room. you heard footsteps outside but mingi made no moves to halt his thrusts, only focused on one thing, getting the two of you off before he had to go back onstage. 

“are you fucking?” yunho’s voice wasn’t clear until he had the door open, light cascading into the storage room, yours and mingi’s necks snapping to look at the intruder.

he was smirking — he knew what he was walking into yet he did it anyway. you and mingi both smiled cheshire grins as yunho stepped inside the storage room, quickly slamming the door shut behind him. 

“why didn’t you invite me?”

wooyoung 🐈‍⬛

wooyoung had you splayed out on the bed, legs bent up with his head between them. eating you out was adjacent to your meditation time, as he calls it, it's his favorite way to wind down. after a long day, after a short day, during his day, it didn’t matter when. wooyoung was always down to eat you out, eager even — he is a man not above begging. 

your chin was shot back, eyes screwed tight, wooyoung had made you cum on his tongue twice so far and he was nowhere near finished. 

after eating you through your second orgasm his licks had slowed down, easing up his pressure, making his tongue soft and pliable instead of hard and pointed. 

soft moans left your lips, he knew by now how to work you through overstimulation, lazily licking at your clit until your moans turned to whines once more.

“taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night,” his eyes were fully closed, he was in a dream. between your legs was his happy place, he’d die there a happy man, he’d admitted it more than once. more than ten times, at least. 

when he noticed your breaths getting shorter and your moans shifting to a higher pitch he was sharp with his movements, picking up his pace, licking up your folds and sucking on your clit with swollen lips. 

hongjoong bounced through the door, “hey wooyo, you- jesus fucking christ!” 

your legs snapped shut, closing over wooyoung’s head and he pried himself out of your cage with painted fingertips, jumping up to face hongjoong at the door.

“what?” wooyoung asked, palm swiping at his chin.

“i’m scarred,” hongjoong muttered, voice horrified with hands covering his eyes. your hands fled for the blankets, pulling them over your body with a speed you weren’t expecting to have to use. 

“what do you want, joong?” wooyoung asked, rushed yet still casual, sitting on his knees. his abdomen was clenched, muscles on display as he twisted backward, you didn’t even care that hongjoong was in the room. 

“i was going to ask if you had a spare pair of headphones,” his voice was barely above a squeak, hands still covering his eyes.

“oh, yeah i do, here, they’re my sony 1000MX—”

“i don’t give a fuck wooyoung, give them to me so i can leave.”

jongho 🧸

you were hanging out with jongho in the dance practice room as he practiced the same routine again, the fifth time tonight.

he groaned in frustration after missing a step again, the same step he’s missed the past four times he’s gone through the routine. his hands cover his face, dragging down his cheeks.

you get up from your spot on the floor, making your way in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold in yours.

“why don’t you stop for the night?” you tilt your head, nothing but warmth in your eyes as you stare into his, cold and irritated. 

“i need to get this fucking right,” his lips are pursed, his eyebrows are knit together as he barks, “i need to clear my head.” 

within minutes he had you on your hands and knees atop the hardwood floor, bodies facing the mirror that spread across the wall, forcing you to watch yourself as he fucked you stupid. 

“see that?” he smirked at you through the mirror, fingers tight on your hips, “nothing but a cocksleeve whenever i want it, so willing for me.” 

his words were cool and calm, almost a threat on his lips as he abused your core. your eyebrows were tangled and your mouth hung open, knees and palms burning from the pressure against the harsh wood. 

“yes, just for you,” you manage to choke out between thrusts, body jolting forward with each thrust. 

“that’s right baby,” he nods, his smile turning villainous, only fucking into you harder as he spits, “such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you in public like this.” 

you nod, eyes screwed shut, “d-don’t fucking stop.” 

his chuckle is deep, his thrusts losing their rhythm, “you want it? want me to fill this filthy pussy up?” 

the door to the practice room opens, san strolls inside with a smile on his face before he sees the two of you — he shrieked. “what the fuck!?” 

jongho stilled, laying himself atop your body, trying to cover you as best he could. his words come out nervous, “get the fuck out!”

san slips back out of the door, then peeks his head back in, “wait, when are you gonna be done? i want to practice.” 

“san!” 

masterlist

[selfdiagnosedeyemotif]

oh you just KNOW im gonna be extra about this

S - Summertime [My Chemical Romance - Danger Days: The True Lives of Famous Killjoys] E - Eternal Sunshine [Flower Face - Girl Prometheus] L - Last Words of a Shooting Star [Mitski - Bury Me At Makeout Creek] F - For the Best [Gregory and the Hawk - Leche] D - Dead! [My Chemical Romance - The Black Parade] I - If You Could Save Yourself, You'd Save Us All [Ween - Quebec] A - After Dark [Boyscott - Spellbound] G - Goodbye [Bo Burnham - Inside] N - Neighbourhood #3 (Power Out) [Arcade Fire - Funeral] O - Oats We Sow [Gregory and the Hawk - Moenie and Kitchi] S - silver spoon [dead boyfriend - battle of carthage] E - End of Summer (I Used to Know) [The Front Bottoms - Single] D - Disco [Surf Curse - Heaven Surrounds You] E - Early Sunsets Over Monroeville [My Chemical Romance - I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love] Y - You're Gonna Go Far, Kid [The Offspring - Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace] E - Everything for Free [Gregory and the Hawk - Come, Now] M - Mermaids [Forest City Lovers - The Sun and the Wind] O - Old Friend [Mitski - Be the Cowboy] T - Twin Size Mattress [The Front Bottoms - Talon of the Hawk] I - I'm Not Okay (I Promise) [My Chemical Romance - Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge] F - First Day of My Life [Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning]

okay this is. this is me after finishing typing now. this took me honestly like forty minutes this was excessive. because for some reason i was like. im gonna do some side challenges. so youll also notice that there are no album overlaps here. and also that ive pulled one song from each of MCR's four main releases

additionally. some shoutouts. apparently i like a lot of songs that start with the letter b. Biblical Love (Flower Face), Be Still (The Killers), Be Nice to Me (The Front Bottoms). i think thats it. the letters c and g were also highly contested

also! no chappell roan! i dont care for that! but also my favourites of hers are Pink Pony Club, Kaleidoscope, and Coffee. so fuck me i guess. and i wasnt willing to sacrifice Goodbye to make room for Good Luck, Babe! so thats egg on my face i guess.

anyways normally i would. link these songs. youll have to forgive me for doing no such thing this time. or tagging. if youve actually reached the bottom of this for some reason uh. join on in if you want to! woo! collapses on the floor in a puddle of my own blood!

bored so i thought id do a tag game :)

rules are you have to pick a song for each we letter of you name and/or username if you don’t wanna use ur real name :)

T: Two Pills by TX2

Y: You’re gonna go far by Noah Kahn

L: Loving You by Thomas Headon

E: Enchanted by Taylor Swift

R: Rise and Grind by Noahfinnce

tagging: @riceandcurry3 @newsies-lodging-house @st0rmyseas @nosuchthingasdeadlanguages @misha-misha @bigmack2go @paralleluniversesfan @apairofnewshoeswithmatchinglaces

no pressure :)

[xetlynn]

Hello!!!, I just wanted to request a Claggor x pregnant reader (in the good timeline), if that’s possible, thank you so much <3!

I had fun with this one

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

The Favorite

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: claggor and reader are expecting a baby in a few months. Their family come over with gifts.

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare.” My husband stopped me as I was about to pick up a part of our baby’s bed. I sigh, lifting myself back up while holding the bottom of my stomach. “Claggor I can pick up a piece of wood.” I walk over to him. He sat on the floor trying to figure out the directions to put the crib together. It was mine from when I was a baby that my mom surprisingly kept. 

“Not if I’m here. What if you trip and fall forwards? I would never forgive myself.” He looks up at me with a stern expression. I roll my eyes, nudging him with my knee. “I’m only 31 weeks, I don’t even have the pregnancy waddle yet. So I am very capable of picking things up without tripping.” I fold my arms, a little annoyed with this conversation that we’ve had before. 

Anytime I even lift a finger I get scolded. I can’t cook, I can’t lift anything over 5 pounds, I can’t pick things up off the ground anymore. “You’re in denial first off because you so have a waddle. And second I am here so you don’t need to be capable of picking something up. I got it.” He takes my hand, kissing it softly. I roll my eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Okay, whatever. When our princess comes out being a little diva that’s going to be on you.” I point a finger in his face, he pretends like he’s going to bite me.

“And I’ll be okay with a little diva.” He goes back to building the crib. 

I go out to our living room to sit down on the couch. I let out a bored huff. What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and read? Who does he think I am? I’m tougher than him. I used to be a professional fighter. Now I’m some sort of wife with a great husband who wants to take care of me. 

My hands land on my stomach and I think about our baby who is in my tummy. What will she look like when she’s born? I hope she has my eyebrows. Claggor’s nose. 

A bunch of knocks sound at the door and I frown knowing I have to stand up from just sitting down. I grab the back of the couch and try to push myself up. “Sit down, sit down. I got it.” Claggor rushes past me, getting the door. I blink a few times, now annoyed since I got halfway up!

Vander comes into the house holding two baskets. “I bring gifts for my grandchild!” He laughs excitedly, I grin up at him. “Thank you! You didn’t have to do that!” I appreciate Vander, he’s been such a good help with setting things up for his granddaughter. “Ah, yes I did. She’s going to be such a spoiled girl.” He clasps his hands together after Claggor took the baskets from him, setting them next to me on the couch. 

“Well, we love you.” I smile, taking the first basket and opening it to see little blankets, a thing of diapers and wipes. “This is so helpful.” I start to tear up, Claggor sits next to me pulling me into his arms. “Sorry, I’m just so grateful for this. You don’t understand.” A tear falls and my body wracks in a sob. 

“She’s been crying a lot more lately.” Claggor tells his dad and I sniffle. Vander snickers, “it’s alright. No worries, I know how it goes.” He waves my behavior off. 

“Powder, Ekko and Mylo are going to be stopping by. They told me to let you know.” He exclaims, his arms over his chest as he speaks to us. “Oh man, they’re so sweet!” I cry out, hiding my face in my husband's chest. I feel him shake as he laughs at me. “Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He rubs my back up and down. “Sorry,” I sat up, wiping my tears. “Pregnancy brain.” I grab the other basket, opening it to reveal some baby clothes. “Perfect, we’ve been needing to grab some more pajamas.” I take them out of the basket, holding them up one by one to check them out. “So cute.” I squeal, leaning my head on Claggor’s shoulder. 

Not even moments later there’s a pounding at the door and Vander gets it. Mylo sneaks under his arm holding a large golden necklace. “Got this for my niece so she will know who the best Uncle ever is.” He throws it over to Claggor who picks it up in between his fingers to inspect it. “Yeah, she’s never going to wear this.” He deadpans to his brother with an irritated expression. 

“What!? I spent good money on that. She’s going to love it.” He throws his hands in the air. “Mylo, this is fake. Her mother is allergic to fake metal so I’m sure she will be too.” Claggor throws it back to the shorter guy. “Ohhh! He told you.” Powder comes in with a small box, Ekko behind her with painting supplies. “Here ya go!” She places the box down in my lap. “I made them.” She proudly states, hands behind her back. I picked up a light pink rattle. I shook it and it was soft sounding. Perfect for a baby. I look at the others and there were some teething toys along with a few building blocks. “Powder, thank you! This is amazing.” I grin up at her. “Awe, it’s nothing much. I’m excited to meet your beautiful bundle of joy!” 

Ekko wiggles the paint supplies and I point to the bedroom. “Thank you again, Ekko!” I call after him. “No problem! I’m so excited to do this.” He pokes his head out to tell me and I chuckle. “Also, could you clean this mess up? Or is the crib supposed to look like this?” He looks to Claggor who groans. “I forgot all about it. I’ll be back, babe.” He plants a kiss on my lips before heading into our daughter’s bedroom. 

Powder plops down in his spot, Vander reprimands his other son about trying to give a baby a gold chain that ended up being fake. I giggle, turning to my sister-in-law.

“You’re so talented Pow.” I lift up her artwork and her face flushes. “Thank you, I didn’t know what to get you guys for her. Ekko said something about giving you little toys. Then I thought about how I could just make the toys myself.” She explains her process and I smile. “Well this is a great gift.”

“I’m going to be her favorite uncle, trust!” Mylo tells his dad who scoffs. “You don’t even know what to get a kid.” Vander places his hands on his hips. “You’re right but I know how to make the kid look cool. She’ll be beating up bitches left and right.” He announces and I snort. 

“That’s why you’re not babysitting. Ever.” Claggor comes back into the room. He turns to look at me but then sees Powder in his spot and he frowns. “What? Why not?” Mylo asks. 

“You want my kid to be violent. She’s not going to be.” Claggor pinches the bridge of his nose, not believing this was actually a question. “Yeah, that’s why I’m going to be the favorite. Praise peace and love.” Ekko peaks out behind my husband and I snicker. “You are not going to be the favorite! You guys will eat your words when the first thing she says is Uncle Mylo.” He points at all of us. I hold my stomach from how hard I’m laughing. Powder giggling with me, her hand grabbing onto my wrist trying to contain herself as well. 

“Her first word will be dada. Not her uncle who is an idiot.” Claggor argues, I raise my eyebrow. Dada? It’s definitely going to be mama but I don’t have the energy to join this fight. "I'm not an idiot." Mylo furrows his eyebrows.

“It could be Uncle Ekko. I top all you suckers.” Ekko says and now the three are all in a very heated argument about my daughter who’s not even out of the womb yet. 

Powder turns to me, putting a hand in front of my ear. “I hope they realize the favorite is actually going to be me… Gonna be so embarrassed when they find out.” She tells me and I grin. “You’re so right.” I nod my head. 

--------------------

Gonna try to grind more requests I do have over 25 at the moment so be patient with me!!!! I enjoy this so much. I love seeing all the love!!!! I am getting sick though so if I start to slow down on my posts that's why. I can already feel my body aching:(

N e wayzzz, love you guys!!!!!

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 17 - Maybe Tomorrow Is a Better Day

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 8.6k words. If you had to spend sometime recovering anywhere the Scottish highlands are not a bad place.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (nesting), hurt/comfort, nightmares, PTSD, mental health, sex, anal sex, oral (m receiving), handjob, fingering. 

AN: With Christmas coming up updates might be a bit slower.. sorry :/

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

1 week later 

You like Scotland. Johnny’s house is nice: there’s a pond out front, and it’s about a kilometre or so from a loch. It’s cold, but you don’t mind. You like spending time outside. You like that there are no walls around you—well other than the back garden, but Johnny says it’s to keep the wildlife off his plants.  There’s nothing planted now though, since it’s not the right time of year. Too cold. 

No base walls though, no guards or strangers. You could leave anytime you want. The house is isolated and surrounded by open fields and sparse forests. It’s different from Washington; the trees are different, the smells, the noises, even the grass. You wake early most days when the morning fog is heavy in the air and dew coats the grass. 

You like having alone time. You wake just as the sun is coming up. You make yourself tea and sit out in the back garden watching the sun rise until someone else gets up. Usually it’s John first. He always wakes up early. He smiles at you from the kitchen and then goes for a run. 

Then Simon and Johnny are usually next. They come out to sit with you but not for too long. As soon as John is back Simon goes for a run. You feel bad. You remember Kyle telling you that John insisted on there always being an alpha in the house.

You don’t understand why. There is no chemical anymore, no more people who will ever be exposed. With Dr. Piper gone, there’s never going to be a cure either. That makes you feel bad. You know how badly they wanted a cure. 

This morning feels particularly cold. There’s frost on the ground and you can see your breath in the air. You don’t really care, letting the tea warm your body. This time it’s Johnny who’s up first. He spies you from the kitchen, smiling, then comes out with a mug in his hands.

“It’s going to start getting really cold soon. You might have to take your tea inside so you don’t get sick.” He smiles, sitting down across the table from you. You don’t care how cold it gets, you like the freedom of being outside.

“I like the cold,” you say while taking a sip of your tea.

“You haven't made a nest yet,” Johnny says as a matter of fact. You don’t know what to say. You haven’t felt ready yet. You’re worried if you make a nest it might get destroyed. You had left behind the last nest you made. 

“I guess I haven’t really thought about it,” you say. That’s a lie, though: you have. There’s a space in the living room by the fireplace under a window. You want to be near the massive floor to ceiling bookcase. There’s an ottoman there now but you would move it. Maybe you do need to build a nest. Maybe it will help. 

“Well, me and Simon were thinking about going to town later. If you want to come we could look for some things?” 

“Sure,” you say. Johnny raises his eyebrows. You haven’t left the confines of the house or the back yard. Maybe he expected you to say no and he was going to have to convince you. You wanted to say no. You already feel like you’re regretting it. You like the solitude of Johnny’s house; it's secluded, quiet and away from anything or anyone.

You try to remember how far away the nearest town is, but you really have no idea. You look into the kitchen and see John moving around. He looks up and smiles, like he always does. You look back down, gripping your cup tighter. 

“Have you spoken to John yet?” Johnny asks. Your eyes flick up to him and you bring the mug to your lips. You don’t want to talk to him. You’re not ready yet. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You miss him. Just thinking about him makes a knot form in your stomach. 

It’s your job to keep the threads tight, it’s your job to keep the bonds strong. You miss John, but you’re just not ready. 

“I will, it’s just hard.” You take another big gulp of tea, letting it warm your throat. He looks at you pressing his lips together like he wants to say something but he doesn’t. 

“He misses you,” he says after a few seconds. It makes you feel guilty. You’re being a bad omega. You should just push your feelings to the side and be there for him. It’s not like you had a choice with Professor Hale. 

You stand up, ignoring Johnny’s attempts at apologies as you head back into the kitchen. John is still standing there, leaning against the sink. You place your mug on the kitchen island. You look up at him. His eyes never leave you as he brings his mug to his mouth. 

You open your mouth stepping forward like you want to say something. You don’t know what to say. You’re not ready to forgive him yet. Images of Dr. Piper's blooded face flood into your head. 

He did that. He could have stopped her. 

He could have stopped her. 

You storm out of the room down the hall up the stairs. You don’t know why it makes you so angry. You just want to run. 

“You alright?” Simon asks as you almost bump into him in the hallway. 

“I’m fine,” you snap. Your head is pounding as you look around, and you’re confused for a second looking for your room. Simon steps closer to you, his hand landing on your shoulder. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, squeezing your shoulder. You snap back to reality looking at him. He’s frowning at you. You nod and turn to your room. You close the door behind you rushing over to the window to breathe in the cold morning air. 

There’s a knock at the door snapping you out of your daze.

“I’m fine,” you call back. There's a shakiness to your voice. You’re not ready yet.

The door opens anyway. You know it’s Simon, he only opens it a crack.

“You wanna leave the door open a bit. These doors are old, could get stuck and then we’ll have to break you out,” Simon says. You smile. You know that's not the real reason. None of them will admit the real reason though. 

“Thank you,” you say, then hear him moving away. His scent wafts into the room, filling your nose with gunpowder and the ground after rain. He did that on purpose, for you. He does such a good job at protecting his scent. 

You step away from the window sitting down on your bed. You look at Piper’s scarf tied to the bed head. It barely smells of her anymore. You run your fingers over it and it makes you upset. You look away. 

Now you wish you had a nest.

You don’t even realise how long it has been or how late it is until Johnny knocks at your room door. You finish the last page of the book you're reading and get up, your limbs stiff from being curled up in the rocking chair. 

“Hey, ready to leave?” he asks as you open the door. You nod, picking your jacket up from the back of the door.

“How did you like the book?” he asks, as you walk down the stairs. 

“It was okay.” You look down at it, some kind of romance book you picked for the pretty house on the cover. It just made you miss John. Maybe you need to stay away from those kinds of books for a while. You hang your jacket over the bannister and go into the living room to put the book away. 

When you walk in you see John and Kyle on the sofa, John’s arm is thrown round the back with Kyle angled slightly towards him. They both smile at you as you walk past the TV in silence to put the book back on the shelf. 

“Going down town?” Kyle asks. You nod trying your best to keep your eyes away from John. Kyle stands up reaching into his pocket and handing you something. You walk over to accept it. It’s a piece of folded up paper. 

“Shopping list.” He smiles. You nod back at him and head for the door to leave. 

“Have fun,” John says. You freeze, turning back to look at him. He’s smiling. You press your lips together and nod back at him before walking through the door. 

The room is empty again. John waits till he hears the front door close before getting up. Kyle follows him as John looks out the window watching everyone get into the car. Kyle opens the front door watching as the lights come on and they start to drive away.

John comes behind Kyle as they watch the car leave. He slips his hands around his waist pulling him up against him. 

“I could have gone instead of Simon,” Kyle says. John just hums, pressing his face into Kyle's neck, breathing him in. 

“I wanted to spend some time with you,” John says as Kyle turns in his arms. He keeps his hands on Kyle’s waist pressing his fingers into his soft skin. 

“You’ve done such a good job taking care of the omega, you deserve someone taking care of you,” John says leaning in and planting his lips on Kyle’s. It doesn’t take long for him to sink into the kiss letting his hands run up John’s shirt. 

John pulls him inside without breaking away from the kiss, closing the door behind them. Kyle is already getting needy, rubbing his thumbs over John’s nipples, who moans into his mouth. Kyle drags his tongue across Johns as his heels hit the bottom step. 

“C’mon,” John says, breaking away so he can lead Kyle up the stairs. They make their way into the master bedroom. John hoped he would be sharing this bed with you. Instead it feels empty at night. 

Kyle presses past him making his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. John smiles walking over, his hand comes up to brush Kyle’s cheek. 

“It’s been too long. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy,” John says, running his hands over Kyle's head. Kyle's arms come up to John’s waist, he presses his fingers into his skin. 

“It’s okay, I know things haven’t been easy,” Kyle says, running his hands back up Price’s shirt.

“I should have made time,” he says, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

“You’re making time now, that's what matters.” Kyle kisses his stomach, dipping his thumbs past John's waistband. He moves his hand to the front of John’s pants as he cups Kyle's face.

Kyle unbuckles John’s pants, undoing the button and letting them fall down. Kyle hums running his hand over John’s hardened cock, mapping it out over the fabric. 

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he says, pulling Kyle’s face up to look at him. 

“Yeah, you’ll get a turn,” Kyle smiles. Without moving his eyes he pulls John’s boxers down letting his cock spring free. John lets out a sigh looking down at Kyle who moves his hands to grip around his member. He rolls his thumb over the head, making John twitch in his hands.

Kyle doesn’t wait for long, his eyes going shiny and his mouth filling with saliva. He wets his lips, taking John in his mouth. Kyle hums as he takes him all the way to the hilt. It makes John’s head tip back letting out his own moan as he throbs in Kyle’s mouth.

“I’ve missed your lips, your mouth. Christ, we should have done this sooner,” John breathes, his cock hardening, forcing Kyle to slow down. Kyle just hums. John looks down at him. His arms have wrapped around his waist. His nails dragging up and down his back make goosebumps rise on his body.

John lets himself relax, spreading his legs slightly while Kyle’s tongue presses hard, running up and down the underside of his cock. John moans, his hand moving to the top of Kyle’s head. He can’t help gently pushing on his head making sure he takes him all the way. His hand moves down his head to his neck, his fingers pressing into the sensitive skin. Kyle moans causing John to groan as the smell of vanilla fills the room.

Kyle pulls off him, saliva dripping down his chin. John sighs smiling as his hand comes around to cup his chin letting his thumb smear the saliva across Kyle's lips. 

“On the bed,” he orders, his voice rumbling. Kyle nods, pulling his shirt over his head before turning and crawling up on the bed. John runs his hands over Kyle's body as he turns lying flat on his back.

John bends down, unclipping Kyle's belt and buttons, grabbing his waistband, pulling the rest of his clothes off and throwing them over the chaise longue in the room. Kyle’s cock springs up. He’s wet, swollen, tip shiny with precum. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous ain’t you,” John says, running his hand up Kyle's body leaning over him. He takes his time pinching his nipples, letting his hands map out each muscle and scar. The further down he gets the more kisses he leaves on Kyle’s skin, sucking on his sensitive spots leaving his mark. 

John reaches Kyle’s cock rubbing his thumb over the tip spreading the precum down his shaft. 

“So perfect, so pretty,” John says, pumping Kyle's cock causing him to tip his head back moaning out John’s name. “That’s it, keep making those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good. You’ve worked so hard, you deserve to feel good.” 

“Anything for you, sir,” Kyle breathes, already sounding blissed out as John moves to kneel between his legs. He presses his thumb under the head of his cock, pulling his foreskin back and pressing his lips against his swollen tip.

John takes Kyle all the way making sure to wet the whole length, his chin resting on Kyle’s balls. It feels good having Kyle in his mouth. It’s a familiar feeling, something John can relax into, letting his guard down completely. 

The smell of vanilla fills the air, Kyle’s moans getting louder. Each one makes John’s cock twitch. He’s getting impatient. He needs to be inside Kyle, feel him tightening sround his dick, fucking him deep and long. That’s what he needs right now, a good hard fuck to clear his head.

He pulls his mouth off of Kyle looking over at his head still thrown back on the bed, his hands bunching the bedding. 

“Turn over,” John says, gripping Kyle’s waist to flip him. Kyle shuffles up the bed reaching over to the bedside table drawer. John was already gathering up saliva in his mouth as Kyle hands him a bottle of lube.  

“Ready for everything, huh?” John asks, throwing it down on the bed next to him, he wants to work him open some first, pressing his fingers in his mouth wetting them. Kyle hums, pressing his ass in the air, almost like you do when you’re presenting for him. It makes the hairs stand on the back of his neck. He pushes the thought of you away. He’s spending time with Kyle now.

“Open up for me,” John says, pressing his fingers against Kyle's hole. John works his fingers in, a moan rising from Kyle as he grips the bedding. John curls his fingers hitting the soft spot that makes Kyle press his face deeper into the bed. 

The beautiful moans make John’s cock throb as he works Kyle open letting his palm slam against Kyle’s skin. 

“You can take one more,” John says, pressing his lips on Kyle’s back teasing him with a third finger.

“Sir—” 

“Come on Kyle, you can take it,” John says, his voice grumbling from the back of his throat. It’s almost an order. An order Kyle follows, relaxing so John can press another finger into him. Kyle moans, almost screaming into the bedding as John speeds up. 

John reaches over and picks up the bottle of lube popping open the cap with one hand. He can’t wait any longer; he needs to feel Kyle clenching around his cock milking him until there’s nothing left. John takes his hand out using it to squirt lube over his cock smearing it around before lining himself up. 

“Such a good boy,” John breathes as he eases into him, letting out a satisfied moan to match Kyle. “ Oh fuck—” John breathes shifting on his knees so he’s in a better position. Kyle’s hands are still gripping the sheets, his head turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut. 

The smell of vanilla is thick in the air. They’ll have to open a window when they’re done. For now John doesn’t care, he slowly starts to buck his hips letting Kyle get used to him for a few thrusts. Then he reaches around his waist finding his cock and running his hand down the length. 

With the way Kyle is reacting to his body John’s not quite sure how long he’s going to last. He lets himself relax though only focusing on Kyle and his sweet moans, his incoherent babbling as John pumps his length. 

He wants to see Kyle, wants to look into his eyes when he cums. 

“Turn over for me,” John says, pulling out as he hears Kyle groan in protest. He turns over laying on his back spreading his legs. John steps off the bed hooking his arms under Kyle’s knees and pulling him to the edge.

John presses back up against Kyle's hole letting his tip tease him while he gets comfortable. 

“Look so pretty down there for me,” John says, his scent thick in the air. So is Kyle's, and it's making John's head spin. Kyle barely responds, humming something incoherent as he looks up at John. His eyes are glossy, his lips wet and puffy. John leans over and kisses him sucking on his bottom lip before standing back up again. 

He presses into Kyle watching as he arches his back. John’s hand presses on his abdomen pushing him down before wrapping his hand around Kyle’s cock. This time he quickly speeds up trying to match his thrusts with pumping Kyle’s dick. John’s hand is smeared in precum, adding the wet sounds mixed with their moaning.

Kyle's hand lazily comes on his chest brushing his nipples making him clench around John. It feels like fireworks. John groans, tipping his head back trying to focus on not cumming so quickly. He wants to stretch this out for as long as he can. 

Kyle is pulling on his nipples, squeezing them before running his thumb over them. 

“Close,” Kyle stutters, back arching. John squeezes the base of his cock, running his thumb over his balls. 

“Already?” John teases, slowing down his thrusts. He watches as more precum drips down his hand. “C’mon you can take it, a little longer.” John’s voice is low, the air filling with the smell of leather as he slowly builds up speed. 

Kyle looks up at him, and John can see the glint in his eyes. He leans over and his free hand comes up to rub Kyle’s cheek. Kyle turns his head kissing it, trying to suck on his fingers in a desperate attempt to get John to let him cum.

“Wait,” he says suddenly as he sits up in the bed wrapping his arms around John. 

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” John smiles as Kyle pulls off of him and scoots further into the bed patting for John to join him. John lays down letting his head sink into the pillows, his hand gently stroking himself as he watches Kyle who swings his legs over John straddling his waist. 

“Easy there, soldier,” John coos, running his hands over Kyle's thighs, squeezing them. Kyle reaches around grabbing John’s cock angling himself then guiding John into him. John’s head tips back into the pillows as they both shuffle their bodies getting comfortable. 

“Such a big strong alpha taking care of the pack,” Kyle says with a cheeky grin on his face, running his fingers up John’s chest as he bounces up and down on his cock. John looks up at him. There’s a twinkle in his eye. Shivers run up and down his body. His cock twitches, and Kyle clenches around him.

“Christ,” John breathes closing his eyes as the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. The scent of leather fills the air as John and Kyle chase the peak. John’s fingers dig into Kyle’s thighs gripping him tightly. Kyle pumps his cock with each bounce, and suddenly his movements become uneven, more desperate.

“Fuck sir—” Kyle calls John’s name as he cums, thick ropes shooting across John’s chest. John cums a few seconds later forcing Kyle down onto him as he fills him up, each throb causing him to grunt as he tries to normalise his breathing.

Kyle's eyes open and he looks down at John smiling. 

“Like being called a strong alpha?” Kyle asks, raising an eyebrow. John chuckles, shaking his head. Kyle leans down to kiss him, then he sits back up bracing his hands on John’s chest like he’s about to get off him. 

“No, you’re not done yet,” John says, running his hands up Kyle’s thighs. 

“Want to go again old man?” Kyle teases, getting up anyway to move next to John. Kyle hums, tracing his fingers across John’s abdomen, feeling John shiver under his touch until his hand makes its way to John’s cock. 

“Yeah, I could go again.” 

Kyle smiles. 

You’re driven to a small town about an hour from the house. The whole place looks picturesque: cobblestone roads and massive stone brick buildings. It’s almost like something out of a fairy tale. The whole town is surrounded by long fields and evergreen woods. 

As you drive down the main road you can see shops on both sides. There’s a carpark at the end of the road and a massive building with colourful windows and a huge bell on the top. Simon parks and you all get out. Your eyes are drawn to everything. There’s a cafe right next to the carpark with massive curved wooden windows that look hundreds of years old.

You end up grabbing Johnny's arm as he leads you round to the main street where the shops are. There’s a post office and various other shops, anything from clothes stores to what look like furniture stores. At the end of the street there is another fountain and a modern looking building with two entrances: one says NHS the other Tesco. The seemingly never ending gloom that hangs over the Scottish sky seems warm and cosy now with the shop lights spilling out onto the road. There are no cars, just people, dogs. You can hear music coming out from the cafe, gentle tunes that add to the atmosphere. It’s beautiful. 

“Where do you want to go first?” Johnny asks as you stop on the corner of the main street. You look up at him still trying to take it all in. He smiles at you, tipping his head. You squeeze his arm looking back down the road. There are a few people around: a group waiting at the bus stop, a woman with a stroller and a group of older ladies at the cafe.

“I don’t know,” you say. Everywhere, you want to go everywhere.

“There’s a book shop or we could go to the charity shop to see if we can find anything for your nest.” You look back down the street. 

“The book store,” you say. Johnny’s arm comes around your waist as he guides you down the road. 

“I’ll go to Tesco,” Simon says as Johnny stops outside what you assume is the book store. You’re looking in the windows while they chat, not paying attention, your eyes drawn over the books displayed on stands. 

“C’mon lass, there’s more inside,” Johnny says, his hand gently pushing you in. You’re not sure what to even look for. You take a deep breath in. The place smells of books. The smell of ink and paper fills your nose. It’s a comforting smell. That's what you loved about the books in the bunker. It was one of the only places that didn’t smell sterile or full of chemicals. 

The place is dimly lit with orange lighting and dark wood bookshelves. It makes the whole place feel cosy. You walk over to one of the shelves running your fingers over the spines reading the names. There’s a sign at the top that reads ‘mystery’. You look for colours and names that stick out to you. You would buy the whole store if you could.

“What kind of things do you like?” Johnny asks. 

“I like fantasy, with worlds I can lose myself in. I like nature and exploration,” you say, pulling out a book and thumbing through its perfect, untouched pages. You don’t even realise Johnny has left your side until he comes back with a pile of books in his hands. 

“Got you some classics.” He shows you enthusiastically. You put the book in your hands back and take a look. The Lion and the Witch in the Wardrobe and Lord of The Rings. 

“There’s a lion in the wardrobe?” you ask, frowning at the book cover with some kids hugging a lion on it. 

“There’s a whole world in the wardrobe,” he winks. You smile nodding at him. You look back over to the shelf picking out a few more that seem interesting before going to pay. Johnny makes small talk with the man behind the counter. 

They talk so fast you almost can’t keep up with what they’re saying, their accents so thick it almost sounds like they’re speaking another language. You listen on in awe offering to carry the bag as you leave. Johnny won’t have it though, acting like the bag is suddenly the heaviest thing on the planet. 

You let him carry it and cross the road over to the charity shop. He walks you through to the back where there is furniture, pillows and blankets. You spot a fluffy looking blanket with animals printed on it. You pick it up along with a white fluffy pillow.

“I have some blankets at home, ones my mum and gran made. I could find them when we get back if you want?” he asks. You turn to look at him. You still have the blankets from the journey over. 

“You don’t have to, they’re your blankets,” you say squeezing the pillow. 

“It’s fine, they’re begging to be used for something.” He smiles, and you nod at him smiling back. 

This time when you pay it's a woman, an older woman but you’re convinced Johnny will flirt with anyone. When you step back outside it’s darker and there are lights strung up in the street. The place looks even more picturesque than when you were driving out here. You can see that the tops of the lamp posts are covered in massive green leaves with red berries.

“It’s really pretty,” you say, smiling, looking up at the lights. 

“Yeah, almost Christmas,” John says as he walks you back towards the car. 

“I’ve heard about that. The professor would always bring me a gift.” 

“A good gift?” Johnny asks. You nod.

“It was usually a book, it was the only time he would ever be nice to me or give me gifts.” 

“Not even on your birthday?” Johnny asks, sounding shocked. 

“No, that was always an important busy day.” You sigh, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. 

“Why?” Johnny asks as you cross the road over to the carpark. You suddenly feel a chill. You don’t really want to talk about it. 

“Oh you know, lots of tests, lots of surgeries. It’s always the same, a long painful day.” You let out a sigh bringing your arms around your chest as you walk over to the car. Simon is already there putting bags into the boot. 

“Do you ever want to talk about it?” Johnny asks, stopping suddenly. You stop and turn to look at him. 

“What do you mean?” you ask frowning. He tips his head coming over to grab your hand.

“You know, about what you went through in the bunker,” he says. You shake your head.  Dr. Piper tried to get you to talk about it sometimes but you never really wanted to. She said now you were out of the bunker it would be good for you but you had no idea where to start. 

What would you even say? Would they even care?

“I don't know if I want to,” you say. He smiles at you squeezing your hand. 

“That's okay, but if you ever want to talk you know where we are,” he says walking back towards the car. You squeeze his hand back. This has been a good trip. 

“Got everything?” Simon asks as Johnny places the bags in the back next to the food Simon has. You can’t help sneaking a look. You love watching Kyle cook. Sometimes he lets you help, but you think he just likes the company more. You nod, smiling at Simon as he closes the door. 

“John!?” You hear someone shout. It makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck and you turn around with Johnny and Simon. 

“John MacTavish is that you?” the man asks as he walks towards you. Johnny steps forward. He’s big, old, with scruffy clothes and a bright green beanie and scarf.  

“Henry, what are you doing out this time of day?” Johnny says, opening his arms for the man. The smell of alcohol hits your nose, you can tell the man is unsteady on his feet. 

“Who are your friends?” he slurs, trying to force himself past Johnny who moves his body blocking him. You’re suddenly nervous and you reach out gripping Simon’s jacket. He turns to look down at you as Johnny tries his best to move the stranger away. 

“C’mon,” Simon encourages you, guiding you into the car. He’s projecting his scent; it makes your head spin as he opens the back door and you climb in. As soon as you’re sat down you turn to look out the back at Johnny who has his hand on the guy's shoulder smiling at him. 

“What books did you get?” Simon asks, pulling your attention to him and you turn watching him turn the engine on. Your mind goes blank. He turns to look at you.

“Books, yeah. The lion in the wardrobe,” you say but the name doesn’t sound right.

“ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe ?” Simon asks. You nod. Johnny comes around the front of the car getting into the passenger seat. It makes you jump and you grip your seat-belt pulling it on. 

“Who’s your friend?” Simon asks Johnny. 

“Henry, local. You know the sort, kicked him out the pub for the landlady a few times.” Johnny shrugs. Simon hums as he drives the car out the car park. Johnny turns to look at you.

“Had a good trip?” He asks, smiling. 

“Yeah. I think I'm ready to make a nest,” you say smiling at him.

John’s laid up in the bed, the window open behind him. The cold breeze makes him shiver. The smell of vanilla and leather is almost completely gone now. All that fills the room now is the smell of the forest and the scent of Kyle’s beta.

Kyle pulls the duvet further over them, running his fingers across John’s chest under the bedding as they’re curled up next to each other. 

“She wants to forgive you,” Kyle says after a while. John turns to look at him. “She’s struggling without you. She thinks she can hide it but she can't.” 

“What do you mean?” John asks. Kyle sighs, moving his hand down to John’s stomach.

“She calls out for you in her sleep. I heard her talking to Johnny, she misses you. You claimed her, she’s your omega, that will never go away,” Kyle says, John sighs.

“I’m giving her space.” 

“She’s grieving but maybe some forced proximity would do you both some good.” 

“I don’t want to push her.” 

“It’s been almost a month. She needs you, and I know you need her.” John smiles at his words. 

“Don’t think you’re so subtle either, Cap. I see the way you act when she’s around or not around,” Kyle teases.

“Oh yeah,” John scoffs.

“Yeah, how you always sit so she’s in your peripheral. How your body language changes when she’s upset or happy. I bet you don’t even realise it,” Kyle explains chuckling.

“Maybe I’m getting soppy.” 

“You’ve always been soppy, sir,” Kyle says, propping himself up on his arm, running his hand down his abdomen. John smiles at him hearing the car pull back up outside the house. Kyle tenses propping himself up in bed. John puts his hand on Kyle's chest pushing him down. 

“Easy, take a nap. I’ll wake you up later,” John says, kissing his forehead. 

“She needs us,” Kyle says, sighing.

“She has Johnny and Simon. She'll be fine for a few hours. You need the rest,” John says, moving out of the bed to dress himself. He goes over to the window at the far end of the room. He can see Simon opening to boot to the car as you get out. 

You’re smiling as Johnny tells you something, his arm already finding its way round your waist. It warms John’s heart seeing you smile. It’s the first time he’s seen you smile in weeks.   

You walk in just as John is making his way down the stairs, your nostrils flare as the smell of leather fills your nose. Your eyes lock onto him, and a warmth builds deep in you. You’re just staring at him. He smiles at you.

“Price, a word?” Simon says as you blink swallowing the unbelievable amount of saliva that formed in your mouth. John nods, walking past you and following Simon into the kitchen. You can feel your cheeks burning as you take a step to the stairs. 

“Here, your books and blankets. I’ll put the ones we have in the living room,” Johnny says. You nod heading up the stairs. John's door is locked; you can’t help walking up to it and taking a deep breath in. You can smell the lingering scent of vanilla and leather. You close your eyes breathing it. 

It makes your head feel fuzzy, the burn in your core is almost an ache. You miss him. You want to be mad at him a little longer. Or maybe you don’t, maybe it’s time to move on. You turn walking into your room. You put the bags down going over to Piper’s scarf you have tied to the bed head. 

You run your fingers over it. You can barely smell her scent on it anymore. Maybe it really is time to move on. The burn in your core is replaced by a heavy feeling in your chest. 

You’re not quite ready yet.

Later after dinner when everyone has gone to their rooms you decide you want to build your nest. You sneak out of your room as soon as you hear the last door close. The only person who keeps their room door open is John. Maybe it’s a soldier thing, or maybe it’s an open invitation for you, whenever you’re ready. 

Either way there is no light coming out of the room. You try really hard to listen around. You can’t remember which floorboards creak and this house is old. You’re gripping blankets and pillows in your hands. You squeeze them against your chest as you slowly tip-toe down to the ground floor. All the lights are off and the building is dark.

When you make your way into the living room you see the pile of older looking blankets, on the ottoman exactly where you want to build your nest. You empty your arms onto the floor. You have to move the thing first. Luckily it’s on wheels and it’s not heavy. You pull it out of its place looking at the bare corner of the room.

You pick up the blankets off the ottoman. They’re thick and beautifully embroidered with flowers and animals. They had a musty smell to them but they smell homely. You put them down then sink to your knees reaching behind you to bring the rest of the blankets and pillows you bought around. 

You start to arrange things, the thick blankets first. The wooden floor is cold; you'll need a good bottom layer. You put the pillows down in the corner. It doesn’t feel right. It needs more. You’re already rearranging, spreading out the blankets more, fluffing the pillows even taking the extra ones from the sofa.

You feel like you’ve been working on it for ages, but each time you arrange it it still doesn’t feel right. It feels like an empty nest. Suddenly you’re distracted by a door opening. The door to the kitchen is open and you can see the rest of the lights come on.

You hold your breath craning your head to see into the kitchen. It's John he reaches up taking a glass out and you hear the sink. You look back at your nest, picking up another blanket and running your hand over it. You like the purple flowers on it. You hold it in your hand as you go over to the window above your nest.

You pull the curtain back and open the window. It’s cold, almost too cold. You can smell nature though letting the breeze make you shiver. You look out into the dark, closing your eyes and breathing it in. You can smell the woods, the damp ground, you can hear the lapping of the pond and the sound of creatures in the woods. 

“You okay?” The sudden noise makes you jump. You turn, seeing John standing in the doorway with a glass of water in his hand. You’re just staring at him squeezing the blanket in your hands like you’re clinging on to it for dear life. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, holding his hand up. He looks down at the pile of blankets and pillows. He stands outside the door. He knows better than to come in while you’re making your nest. You can’t keep avoiding him. It's been weeks, longer, since you’ve really been around him. 

“You didn’t scare me,” you say, kneeling back down. His eyes follow you as you put the blanket down and pick up another pillow.

“It means you feel safe right?” he asks like he doesn’t know. You nod, pressing the pillows before turning to look up at him. 

“I thought if the weather was nice tomorrow we could all go see the loch?” he asks. You do want to see the loch. You haven’t really been in the mood to do much. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” you say, running your hand over the fluffy blue blanket. It’s almost perfect. 

“You know if there is anything you need you just have to ask,” John says. You smile. You don’t know why you’re sick of people telling you that.

“I know, thank you,” you say looking up at him. There’s a burn there, a throb in your heart. You miss him. You miss him just holding you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is going to be okay. 

It’s going to be okay. You have to believe that. 

John stands there in the doorway watching you as you mess with your nest. It’s not going to be perfect, not until you have something from each of your pack, just like the nest you left in the US. It makes you feel sick knowing that nest will have been destroyed.

John lets out a sigh and you look over at him. He smiles at you, keeping his distance. 

“It’s late, you should sleep soon,” he says. You nod looking out the window at the night sky. The sky is so clear and dark you can see constellations spread above you. You feel like you could fall asleep forever under those skies. 

“I will,” you say nodding at him. You watch him leave. He turns walking back through the kitchen. Your nest is as good as it’s going to get for now. You pick up one of the handmaid blankets pulling it over your shoulders before climbing into the nest. 

You feel safe here and as soon as you can make it smell of your pack it will be perfect. 

You close your eyes. You’ll make it perfect. 

..

You wake to Kyle standing over you, his hand pressing on your shoulder. He’s smiling with a cup of tea in his hands. You sit up wiping the drool off the side of your face. Your body is stiff, and your muscles feel heavy. You slept well, and you feel good. He hands you the cup of tea. 

“You made a nest,” he says, going to sit over on the sofa, picking up the remote and turning the TV on. You stand up wrapping the blanket around you and going to sit next to him. You take a sip of tea then put it down on the coffee table.   

“Yeah, it felt right.” You smile. He lays his arm round the back of the sofa. You look at him. His head turns to you as he takes a sip of the tea. You lean up against him, and his arm rests over your shoulder. 

“John thought we could take a trip to the loch today,” Kyle says. 

“Yeah, that would be nice. I would like to see it.” 

“We’ll take the car.” 

“I don’t mind walking,” you say looking up at him. He looks down at you and nods. You really don’t mind spending time in nature. Johnny walks into the room next with coffee in his hands. He looks over and sees the nest and smiles at you sitting down next to you. 

You sit there for a few minutes between them while you watch the news play on the TV. You look over at your nest. You do feel safe here, with all of them. Even John. 

“Would you two ever want to have sex with me?” you ask out of the blue before you can stop yourself. They both turn to you, looking between each other as they take in what you said. You regret it almost immediately, wishing you could take it back. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You lean up reaching over for your mug of tea. 

“Would you want to have sex with one of us?” Johnny asks. You turn to look at him. He’s giving you a choice. You never really thought you had one. They would all get a go eventually at least that is what you thought would happen. 

Would John share you around just like the Professor did?

“I wouldn’t mind,” you say feeling embarrassed, sipping your tea to try and hide the redness in your face. “I mean I’ve never had a choice.”

“What do you mean?” Kyle asks. 

“Professor Hale, he would invite his friends to be with me during my heats. Sometimes. It’s normal for an alpha to share their omega in a pack. At least that's what I was told.” You sigh, taking another sip of tea. Kyle's hand comes to rub the top of your back. 

“I’m so sorry,” Kyle says. 

“Why?” You frown at him. He looks over at Johnny, his mouth hanging open.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Johnny says, his hand landing on your thigh and squeezing it. 

“What made you ask?” Kyle says his hand rubbing your back. 

“I don’t know.” That's a lie; you do. You let out a sigh. “I know you’re all together. I thought it was just normal pack behaviour, but then I remembered you’ve only been exposed to the chemical recently.” 

“It’s normal for packs to all be, together with each other?” Johnny asks.

“Dr. Piper would be better at explaining it but yeah, if the alpha was okay with it of course.” You hang your head still feeling embarrassed. You can’t even remember what the original question was. You finish your tea reaching over and putting it on the coffee table. 

“Do you want to talk to John about it?” 

“No. Just forget it,” you say. Johnny starts to talk but the door opens. Simon steps in.

“Price said it’s going to rain later. If we want to go to the loch it has to be soon.”  Simon's eyes crease as he looks around you all. You get up, he steps aside for you and you head up the stairs. When you get to your room you change into the fluffiest, comfiest clothes you can find. 

What if you’ve ruined it all now? You should have not said anything. Why did you even bring it up? Because you miss John? Now you’re being silly. You should just talk to him. You catch Piper's scarf out the corner of your eye. 

No, not yet. It just doesn’t feel right.

When you make it back down to the hall, Johnny and Kyle are already standing with their coats on. 

“You sure you want to walk lass?” Johnny asks. You frown at him.  

“I thought you said it was close.”

“It is but it’s cold today,” he says. 

“I like the cold.” You smile, zipping your coat up. Johnny grumbles. Simon and John come out of the kitchen. 

“Soap, you can drive there in case we get caught in the rain.” He throws keys at Johnny who catches it and his expression changes. He seems happy about that. You follow him out with Kyle whose hand finds yours leading you past the pond to a dirt path. 

The walk is shorter than you expected. You cut through some woodland then follow an unmarked road for the rest of the way. It’s gloomy, the sun hidden by the darkening clouds. There’s fields with sheep which have colourful spots on them. Kyle talks the whole way, about how nice it is to be back in the calm countryside, how you would love a bunch of cities he lists off. 

You hear John and Simon behind you the whole way. They talk too but you don’t listen, your focus only on Kyle and taking in the countryside. You squeeze his hand now and again so he knows you're listening. 

It is cold. You can see your breath again but you don’t care. The walk is nice and you’re excited to see the loch. It’s been on your mind ever since you got here. You would see it in your dreams or what you imagined it would look like. It always looked like the little lake John would take you to on the base. 

This is way bigger. You’re almost skipping as you can see it through the tree line. You spot Johnny leaning against the car as you walk around letting go of Kyle's hand and speeding your pace to get to the edge of the water. 

The loch is massive. It goes as far as you can see. It’s almost like an ocean. There are waves too lapping up on the stony shore. Johnny comes behind you as you bend down picking up an almost perfectly round stone.

“What do you think?” he asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. 

“It’s beautiful,” you smile. You throw the stone letting it splash in the water. 

“Watch this,” Kyle says, throwing a stone but instead of splashing it bounces across the water. You gasp. 

“How did you do that!?” you ask enthusiastically. He bends down picking up another stone and does the same thing. This time it travels further before plopping into the water.  

“Pff, he’s showing off, watch this,” Johnny says, his arm leaving you as he does the same but with 2 stones at the same time. 

“No fair you had all your life to practice,” Kyle huffs. You can’t help but laugh. You haven’t laughed in what feels like forever. It's not even that funny, it just feels right. The noise almost sounds wrong, but it feels good, you let yourself laugh.

“Teach me,” you say, bending down and picking up a stone. As you stand back up to look across the lake you see white blobs slowly falling down, they’re picked up by the breeze and swirl around in the air. Confused, you look up at the sky, the clouds are sheets of white gloomy and swollen. You look down at the stone in your hand, the fluffy white blobs falling on your hand and disappearing. 

It’s snow. You’ve never seen snow before. 

You look up at Kyle smiling, the tufts laying on his hair. Then you look up at Johnny. He has the biggest grin on his face you think you’ve ever seen. You turn back to look at Simon and John standing a few metres behind you. John is smiling, a cigar between his fingers. Simon’s standing with his hands in his pockets. 

You let out a breath clenching your fist around the stone in your palm. You walk over to them. Your heart is thumping in your chest as you listen to the satisfying crunch of stones under your feet. The snow is coming down faster now and thicker. Are you really ready to do this?

“Do you know how to do that?” you ask them, sticking your hand out with the stone still in your palm. They look between each other. 

“Skipping stones? Yeah,” Simon says. 

“Bet you couldn’t beat me!” Johnny calls from behind. Simon tips his head letting out a sigh, taking the stone out of your hand walking past you. You look up at John who takes the cigar out his mouth. You smile at him. You’re still standing there as you hear more stones splashing on the water. 

“Thank you,” you say, watching the snow fall on his hat. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” He smiles. 

“Yes I do.” You hang your head for a second feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You look back up at him and he’s still smiling. His expression is soft. You breathe in his scent letting out a long sigh. 

“Want to judge who wins?” he asks, nodding behind you looking over your shoulder. You nod, turning back to see the three of them with their backs to you both, hands filled with stones flicking them over the water one by one. 

John’s hand rests on the top of your back. Maybe it is time to move on.

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 29

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: poor parenting discussed, Talia may or may not be ooc (if she is, fear not! I have received 2 separate permits, and have been told I may do as I please!), mild cussing, fluff, angst, a smidge of fear

wc: 2.4k

Chapter Selection

“... Babe, I know you've described Damian's mom as a ‘real piece of work', and Bruce told me a bit about how she raised him before he came here, so I do know she's not what I would consider a good mom. But that doesn’t explain why her visiting means we can't go to the manor?”

Jason sighed, setting his phone aside. He cupped my cheeks, purring my name; “darling, light of my life. I mean this in the best possible way. … You cannot be trusted to keep your cool with her.”

I blinked several times, frowning; “what on earth does that mean?!”

“You are … passionate. You love fiercely, and I love that about you. Seriously, I don't want you to think this is a bad thing; the way you love us makes me feel so safe, and I know Damian agrees. But … you've already yelled at one of his teachers, his principal, and Bruce. You will not be able to hold your tongue with Talia. And holding our tongues is necessary with her. … If she believes living at Wayne Manor is making Damian weak, she will take him away 'for his own good’.”

“How on earth would I make her think he's weak?”

“Talia is the type of person who believes attachment makes us weak. The things we care about can be used against us, the people we love are the people who will hurt us the worst. She believes it's better to be feared than loved. She's why he's so good at masking his feelings. Why he doesn't always understand his own feelings; his early education did not include processing and recognizing emotions. But she's … incredibly astute. She's analytical, and brilliant, and terrifying, and … she's his mother; she taught him everything he knew before he came here, and now she can read him without trying, even when he tries to hide his feelings from her. So if she sees how you two are around each other, even if neither of you so much as acknowledge each other, she'll know how you feel about him, and how he feels about you, and we'll probably never see him again.”

I growled softly, clenching my jaw. “… Bitch…”

He chuckled softly, holding me close. “I know. Which is why we have to keep our distance. … She doesn't visit often, and when she does she never stays long. She'll probably be here for a week at most, stalking the kid to make sure he's not slipping, and once she's gone I’m certain he'll show up on our doorstep.”

I sighed softly. “... Ok. … If you see him between now and then you have to find a way to tell him that I’m missing him and I love him very much, ok?”

He groaned softly. “Aw, come on, babe. The Red Hood can't lean in to give Robin a hug during patrol!”

“I'm not asking you to hug him - don't hug him! Just make sure he knows that I'm thinking about him. Please?” I pouted, snuggling against his chest; “for me?”

“Ughhhhh …. Fine. For you.” He sighed, running his fingers down my spine.

I grinned, snuggling against him happily. “Thank you~”

“Yeah, yeah …” he chuckled, kissing my temple. We sat on the floor, curled against each other, for a long while before Jason finally moved us to the bed to get some sleep.

Jay quickly started moving his things into my place. I gave him my spare key and made space in the closet. When I got home from the next girls night some of his clothes were hung up next to mine. The next day there was one of those cheap plastic dressers next to my nice wood one, and sitting on top of it was Jason's cologne, a book, and his deodorant. His shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel joined mine on the side of the tub. We bought more towels and a new set of sheets.

All these little changes made me giddy; his things slotting into position next to mine just felt so right, and I would get used to the weapons that were suddenly stashed all over the apartment. We had a thorough gun-safety presentation that night, and he showed me where everything was. On the next gym-and-range day, we finished training with an exercise where he would, entirely at random, shout “intruder” and time how long it took me to have a weapon trained on him. My best time was two seconds; he had expected me to go for the gun in the drawer, not the knife block in front of me on the counter.

Soon I started packing Jason a lunch for patrol. Mostly because I wanted to take care of him in some way, but a part of me also hoped he'd run into Damian out there and share the cookies I made. He rolled his eyes at me the first time I pressed the insulated bag into his hands, but accepted it anyway. I sent him off with a kiss and a wave, and settled in to wait for him to come home. Hours later I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up it was 4:30am and he was unlocking the door. The exhaustion rolled off him as I pulled him into a tight hug, and we collapsed into bed. When I woke up for real around 11 the lunch bag was sitting on the kitchen counter, empty and clean. I grinned, filling it again that night, and Jason didn't offer so much as a token resistance before taking it.

A week and a half passed before he ran into Robin on patrol. Jason assured me that he had passed along my message, Damian was perfectly healthy and definitely missed me too, and he had even been forced to share the brownies I'd packed. I beamed, kissing his cheek in thanks, and we curled up in bed.

The next day, we started looking at houses online. We obviously only looked at what was available in Red Hood's territory; on top of him wanting to stay close to his patrol area, it was on the opposite side of Gotham from the well manicured lawns of Bruce's gated neighborhood and thus the perfect place to set up my clinic. Whether our home or the cave was closer, the bats would never be more than 30 minutes away from medical care. Jason took note of a few addresses he wanted to go check out, promising to swing by during patrol to see if they were securable.

“No reason to arrange a showing if I'm not gonna be able to make it safe for you.” He kissed my forehead, wrapping an arm around my waist. I chuckled softly, leaning against him. I was pretty sure he was the one who would need the most security measures to feel safe in our new home, but I wasn't going to argue. The way he lit up when providing for me was too precious a sight; if I complimented his cooking he turned pink and mumbled it was nothing. I thanked him for switching over the laundry and he sighed happily, nodding. When he saw progress in my training he beamed. And when he came home safe in the early hours of the morning, all anxiety and stress melted off of him the second he was in my arms.

In a lot of ways, life was starting to feel incredibly normal. We were like the picturesque 1950’s family I'd been taught to simultaneously idealize and vilify; until the spring semester at GU started I was free to spend my time how I pleased, and with Damian's mother still in town, that mostly meant finding new ways to feel like I was giving Jason as much as he gave me. I made sure he always had enough treats in his lunches, in case Damian was out too. When Jason returned from patrol I inspected him for any small wounds my first aid knowledge would fix. I doted on him every chance I got, and he doted right back. It was wonderful, truly.

But when he left for work, and I was alone with my thoughts, the stillness in the apartment quickly became overwhelming. At first Damian's sudden absence from my life had been annoying but acceptable. But after the first couple days it started to feel like a rabid dog was using my heart as a chew toy. Why was his mother still here? What was she doing? What was she saying to him? He had been making such incredible progress; he smiled more, he initiated hugs, he accepted them more readily. He was painstakingly tearing down the walls around his feelings brick by brick. It was a difficult process, and he was being so brave, I couldn’t be prouder! But what was she doing to those walls while I was kept away?

It had been two weeks, and I was starting to wonder if she planned to stay for the holidays. I didn't want her to stay for the holidays! I had plans, and I couldn't do my plans if I couldn't go to the manor! Being barred from Wayne Manor meant no Damian, but it also meant no Steph, no Dick, no Tim, none of them! We had decided it would be best if it looked like I was just Jason's girlfriend; as far as Talia knew he was indifferent to the family, if that. So I had to appear indifferent at best as well.

I was still able to go to girls' night, because that was being held at Barbara's home. There was no reason to believe Talia would know or care about that. But I missed training with everyone. I missed finding new ways to tease Tim. I missed Dick's good natured laugh. God help me, I even missed Bruce! He pissed me off, but he was still kind to me for the most part, and he was a good trainer. I wanted things to get better with him, for Jason and Damian's sake. I wanted him to be the dad they deserved, the dad Dick believed he wanted to be. I was pretty sure he had it locked away inside him, he just needed … something. What exactly that was, I wasn't sure; maybe to see how happy Damian was with simple childhood experiences? Or to see the peace on Jason's face when we cooked together. Or maybe he needed to experience some of that for himself. But whatever he needed, I was sure he wasn't getting it, and until Talia al Ghul left I wouldn't find out.

I tried to busy myself with crafting and baking. With the winter holidays on the horizon I really should have started on presents around Halloween, especially considering how many people I was making gifts for this year. But better late than never, so I used the time alone to get started. Jason would be gone for hours, I had plenty of time. Or, I would have if not for the knock at the door.

I jumped, looking up incredulously. I wasn't expecting guests, especially this late at night. Anyone I wanted here had my phone number, and no one had called or texted. I grabbed my phone, just to be sure, but I was right - no unread texts, no missed calls. A moment later there was another knock, this one more insistent.

I grabbed one of Jason's guns and my phone, ready to call him with the push of a button, and looked through the peephole. A beautiful woman was standing at the door, an unamused look on her face. Her clothes were too elegant for this neighborhood, she definitely didn't just wander to the wrong door. I sighed, a sinking sensation in my gut as I cracked the door open just enough to reveal my face.

“... Hello?” I frowned.

She raised an eyebrow; “... is hospitality well and truly dead in this country, or are you going to invite me in?”

“At eleven o'clock at night, in this neighborhood, with an uninvited stranger on the doorstep? It’s dead. Now, would you like to introduce yourself, or should I shut the door?”

She tsked; “I am Talia al Ghul. Why have you been spending time with my son?”

I silently cursed, but forced my expression to remain bored and distrusting; “... Your son?”

“Damian …” she sighed, “I believe he's using his father's last name now, Wayne.”

“Oh, Jason's brother? He's not here.”

“Obviously not.” She snapped; “are you going to let me in?”

“Why? He's not here.”

“I know he's not here! I want to know why you've been spending so much time with him.”

“I dunno about ‘much’. I've met him.”

“You are his emergency contact at that paltry excuse for a school he is enrolled at.”

“Oh, is that what you're so upset about?” I shrugged; “'m just doing a favor for Jay by doing a favor for his dad.”

“... Elaborate.”

“Mr. Wayne is a busy man, I am not a terribly busy woman. Emergency contact at the school was a simple enough thing to take off his plate. Kinda thing that seems bigger than it actually is. He now associates me with his life being ever so slightly easier. He already associates me with Jason, ergo he now associates Jason with his life being slightly easier.”

She frowned deeply. “You are emotionally manipulating Bruce into … what, being kinder to his second son?”

“... I suppose so, yeah. Didn't really think about it that way. 'Manipulation' makes it sound so much more convoluted and … effort-full. All I did was sign a piece of paper.”

Her expression morphed into a small smirk; a very Damian-like expression. “... And you are Jason's … girlfriend?”

“Yep.”

“... Hm.” She nodded once. “... Very well then.”

“... Okaaay. … So are you like, sticking around or somethin'? Do you want to be the emergency contact now?”

“No, there is no reason for that…” she pursed her lips; “establishment to have my phone number.”

I shrugged again. “Alright… Anything else?”

“... No, I suppose not.”

“Kay. I'm goin' back to bed then. Goodbye.” I shut the door, locking it, and looked through the peephole again. She glowered at my door, seemingly considering something, and finally left.

I watched her walk away until she was entirely out of sight, then slowly retreated to the couch to text Jay.

Me: Everything is fine, do not panic; but I just met Talia. 11:20pm

Jason: I'm coming home. Don't open the door to anyone. 11:35pm

Me: 👍❤️ 11:36pm

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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[katiascraft]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ "Maybe i should've told you i miss you. But i don't know if you feel the same" | OP81 ✧₊⁺

parings: oscar piastri x singer!reader

summary: your insecurities lead to lose the love of your life, but destiny always play its worst (or best) cards for you. in the aftermath of it all, two souls become one (again). or that's what you'd like.

inspired by: gracie abrams music ⤦

⟢ ‘almost said I miss you’ EP: tracklist

➥ track 1 - mean it

➥ track 2 - stay

➥ track 3- I miss you, I’m sorry

word count: 6k.

warnings: angst. and a little fluff. mentions of insecurieties, trauma and depression. not a native english speaker so there could be (so many) erros. not proofread.

MASTERLIST

「 ✦ The ticking clock ✦ 」

You took a deep breath. Your hands were shaking and your stress levels were at their peak.

“You are always picking fights, y/n. I'm tired, "Oscar said, clearly annoyed. Is not that you always fought or had a toxic relationship, no. but lately, things got harder between you two. Stupid fights now and then. Dead silence that creeps you out everytime. Coldness was the new dynamic you had going on. And it hurts.

Everyday hurts lately.

“Oscar, I'm not always picking fights. For fucks sake, just wanted to know why you are so cold all the time to me!” you didn't want to raise your tone but desperation never took the best out of you. He was shocked, his head disapproving. Probably done with all of this. Done with you. You didn't want to admit it but maybe it was true. 

“I'm not being cold to you, y/n. I already explained it to you: I'm tired. My job it's complicated enough to come home to be even more complicated. Just stop” he said leaving the kitchen, leaving you behind hanging in your words. That made you so you followed him down to the living room. 

“Oscar, don't leave me talking alone, please! Why do you always have to run away? I have feelings actually you know? I would love to express them to my lover so we can have a proper conversation, what do you think about that?”

“y/n, bullshit. Don't act like I'm a monster who doesn't listen to you. If i didnt we wouldn't have this argument. Stop playing the victim for once. You don't hear me out either anyway” he gritted his teeth trying not to follow you down with your anger. He didn't want to raise his voice towards you. 

“Playing victim? You're an impossible oscar. I only asked you a fucking question, what did i do wrong for you to ignore me and act so cold? And you said you're just tired and that's bullshit” you were so angry by now. Offended. Hurt by his words. Hurt by the fact you were happy once and now everything is falling apart. You never hurt this deep before. 

“It's not!” he couldn't anymore with all of this. He didn't want to raise his voice but you made him feel exasperated. “You see? You don't trust me! Im telling you im just tired and you say its bullshit and then you play the victim card that i dont listen to you and im a fucking monster? I see how things go now. I'm done” he didn't even want to look at you. He just sat on the sofa looking at the floor. But you heard what he said under his breath. What you were most scared of what’s happening. 

You started crying out of desperation, anxious that all of this was gonna end right there and then. You just left him there and went back to the kitchen as if that way he wouldn't see nor hear you crying. You just couldn't keep talking or being around him. Your heart was sinking.

He sighed frustrated and stood up sprinting to his studio and banging the door. You gasped hearing the door closing so violently. No that he noticed what he said. Nor that he cared you thought he didnt care you anymore, that was for sure. 

(...)

You haven't talked to Oscar since yesterday. He didn't sleep at your shared apartment. He said he didn't want to see you. That hurt a lot. Your heart was already broken. You didn't know what to do anymore. You've been on this rabbit hole for several months. You didn't understand what broke between you or when it was. You felt confused, lonely and scared. What would your whole life be without him? Once, you only wrote love songs because what you felt for him was beyond what your body could handle so you needed to take it out. Now, you didn't write anything for months. You felt too much sadness, it felt like you didn't feel anything at all. Just emptiness. 

You were playing with your food, not really that hungry that you thought you would be. Another night alone without him. Would life be like this when he gets rid of me? I don't wanna leave. 

The doorbell rang. You frowned, not sure who it could be knowing it was almost 10pm and I couldn't sleep (just as yesterday and every time you had an argument with him). You looked through the little visor of the door seeing your boyfriend was back home. But telling from the look on his face, things wouldn't be better anyway. You opened the door after taking a deep breath not sure if you would survive another fight. 

You two just looked at each other for a few seconds. Probably analyzing how you were feeling now that 2 days have passed by. Neither of you smiled. Not that you had the energy or a reason to anymore. You moved from the door so he could get into the apartment and closed the door once he was in. 

“Did I wake you up?” he asked quietly. You swallowed hard not knowing what to say by this point.

“I can't sleep since you are gone, so. No, you didn't” you didn't want to sound cold, especially after you fought because he was acting like that with you,but you felt like shit and didnt have energy to pretend you were okay with it all. You felt miserable. He nodded without saying a word and looked at the floor for a moment. 

After a moment of really uncomfortable silence you broke it with something you didn't even think would slip out your mouth “are you seeing someone else, oscar?” your words cut through him as if they were sharp glass pieces just thrown directly at him. 

“What?” He was surprised and hurt that you thought about him like that. You shrug.

“I mean, it's not that you don't kiss me anymore, so.and i think you're not tired because of your job, i think you're just bored of me, tired of me, done with me” you sat on the kitchen table again. He followed you there but stayed standard. He was confused and hurt now. 

“When did I ever say that to you?” he was tired of all of this, for sure. But he wanted to make things work with you. He just didn't know how to.  It was hard for him to understand you, but he was trying. He finally sat in front of you staring at your plate. It was full, you kept playing with your doodles, pretending to eat like you used to. He felt so guilty for all of this. He knew at that moment. That he broke you. He didn't know how or when but he did. His face softened in sadness.

“You said it. You said you were done and you know what? I get it. I mean, it's not as if I am easy to love. I know I'm complicated and a pain in the ass for everyone so I wouldn't be surprised if you found someone else that makes you happy for real and you don't wanna tell me out of pity. I'm ready to hear it though. Just say it” your voice was empty and plain no emotion detected just numbness. He didn't want to think it was too late. It Has been a long time since he has seen you like this. At that time it wasn't him who made you feel like it. 

“I didn't mean to say it, y/N. I Was tired because of work and fighting with you. I don't like fighting with you. I wanna make things right, please. I wouldn't ever do that to you, you know it” he explained desperate for a moment. He wanted you to believe him. But your face didn't say anything. He couldn't read you and made him scared. You looked unbothered, way far gone now.  

You shook your head “i know you mean it and i know you are tired, but i don't think you really want to be with me anymore” your sincerity cut like a knife in both of you. Like, you over thought a lot about it but it still hurt. He was lost and didn't know what was going on anymore or was going through all of that. “You didn't deny it either” you continued.

“I'm not with anyone else, y/N, please” he cut you off with his deep voice, kind of cracky now. 

(...) 

You just didn't know how you ended up moaning his name once more. His mouth is in your centre. His hands are grabbing your tights. Your fingers on his hair.

How easy is it, right? To love someone. One moment, you destroy them.. Then, you fix them with makeup sex. Making them see the stars so they forget how shitty things are. So that pleasure it's more important than gentle affection. Always pretending to be sane then doing insane shit like this as if memory didn't exist when it came to you and him. As if feeling him inside you was the only thing that could fix your mind. That it was the only way to communicate properly. As if it was your love language, then ignore each other. 

His hands of your body grabbing you as if you were about to break and he was trying to keep all of your pieces together. As if he could save you or your relationship that was already 10 feet down buried. He would like to think sex could fix it. That it was the best way to communicate if then you didn't trust him. He was hurt and you didn't trust him. You were hurt because he didn't love you anymore. Unfortunately, your minds couldn't agree. You were the love of his life, he wanted to help and make you trust him. But you just didn't, you already convinced yourself he didn't love you anymore and that everyone was better than you. He wanted a team when you just wanted to run away from him. Or from yourself?

「 ✦ Destruction ✦ 」

“I'm done with you for real, y/n! Everytime an important day comes for me, you just like to ruin it!” He was mad as hell. Fed up with all your bullshit. 

“You really think I do it on purpose? oscar! “ He left the room so you started following him around your shared apartment. “I wouldn't if you didn't ignore like you always do! I don't know what to do anymore! Nothing seems enough for you!” you started crying out. Your heart couldn't take it anymore and this time it felt different. So much different than any time before.

“Why is it always my fault? Why am I always the one doing something wrong? The only thing you do is complain about me and then you just want me to kiss you?! You are insane!” His words cut you deep, so deep you thought they cut you in half and you were nothing anymore. You couldn't breathe for a moment. He called you insane just the way your parents made you feel your whole life. Maybe they were right after all. You deserved all of those years in a psychiatric hospital. You deserved even when he

 was the first one to say your parents were monsters and you were more than okay. More than normal. More than lovable. How ironic, right?You wanted to laugh but couldn't. You just couldn't move. 

Oscar realised what he said. He knew when he saw you. He felt terrible at that moment.

“Look, y/n i-” you cut him not wanting to listen to him anymore. 

“Dont talk” you said shaky under your breath. You had to sit down on the sofa because you felt you were about to faint. In shock - a lot of moments of your relationship replayed in your head. How could someone who said he loved you more than anything and anyone, end up thinking just as your parents? It was your fault. Of course it was. How could you ever think someone would love you? You were miserable. How can someone love a miserable person? 

Oscar started breathing heavily and he had to sit on the floor trying to calm down. He is always so collected and rational, these kinds of feelings he had never experienced, not even with his ex. 

“We can't be together Oscar, I make you miserable. And you're right. I'm insane, how could someone love me right? No one wants to deal with my bullshit, not even myself” you said quietly. His throat closed for a moment. He remained in silence for a few seconds processing your words. You didn't look at each other, you couldn't. Guess this was it. How sad, right? Oscar started crying realizing what was about to come.

“I promise y/N, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it that way. You aren't hard to love, actually the opposite. But yeah, i don't think this is working for us anymore whether i like it or not” he said wiping his tears away of his face as he could. 

You nodded even though you didn't hear a word he said. It was over. Your life is over.

「 ✦ time heals it all, right? ✦ 」

It's been exactly 8 months and 25 days since you and Oscar were not together anymore. Yes, you had a countdown. You created it to see how far you’ll survive because you didn't believe you would last this much. You thought your life was over and for a few weeks it was. You didn't get out of bed. The break up depression, i guess. Your friends suggested you go back to therapy because they were really worried about you and your mental health. They knew how much Oscar meant to you: he was your everything. And to be honest, that was your first mistake going into the relationship with him. 

You shouldn't have made him your everything because you were nothing suddenly when you left. You didn't know who you were without him, what you liked or what you would like to be. All of your future plans had him in them. There wasn't a future without him. He was everywhere in your life. You shaped your destiny around him. You wanted to get married and have kids with him. And you never wanted to be a mother but he had changed that until he was gone. 

You couldn't go back to dating. You tried but failed every time. You were a little too afraid to get hurt again. You had to work through your insecurities and traumas first. There was a lot of your history that needed to be let go. You needed to go through really ugly times in your past to find some perspective. Forgive yourself, putting yourself first, understanding yourself. You just worked on knowing you and becoming the person you always wanted. 

And you grew and changed so much. You felt proud of yourself. You started writing again. Creating was the best way to mourn your relationship with Oscar alongside your old self that left him. To mourn that part of you that is gone forever. Creating was what kept you sane all this time. What brought you back to life. You wrote so many songs about him. Blaming you, blaming him. Blaming the universe for not putting it easier on you. 

So music, once again, saved your life. 

Oscar’s life changed drastically. Not only by the fact he didn't have you anymore on the paddock to cheer him on, but also he didn't have you in his apartment to share his life with. He missed you everyday he woke up to an empty bed. Mourning what you had changed him forever. He blamed himself for not knowing how to get to you, how to understand you and be able to help you through it. So he started reading about psychology to learn how to understand people better. He wanted to improve his emotional intelligence. He knew that maybe you wouldn't be there anymore, probably forever, but at least he could be better to the people around him. 

He didn't date anyone. His way of mourning was trying not to think about it occupying his space and time with work and training and racing and reading. He couldn't do anything else.  

He always found himself not being able to think, wondering where you were and especially how you were. After that night, you went to cero contact. And he knew it was the best, but he couldn't get you out of his head yet. He felt guilty knowing that he can understand your needs better when it's a little too late. He just wished to press rewind and do it again but the right way this time. He knew it was impossible and that dug a hole in his heart. He knew that it would be there forever. You were the love of his life. He really thought he couldn't love anyone that way, ever again. You were a force of nature for him. Blowing him away every single time. 

You never went back to races. He knew how much you adored the sport and how in another life you would have loved to be an engineer. You dreamed of one day to see a woman on the podium. You actually sponsored two girls from F1 Academy. The boys didn't see you again either. Actually he knew you did see lando a few times because you two became really close during your relationship, but lando always lied and told him that he didn't see you. He knew Lando was trying to be a good friend. He even tried to introduce Oscar to some girls but it never worked. He tried though. But he found himself thinking that he was kissing it was you. It was heartbreaking to see. He was kind of stuck on you. 

So he decided he would take his time to grow and figure out who he was by himself. Find comfort in his own company. Doing dates  by himself. He found it cringe to call it that way but his therapist insisted on calling it that way so he could deprogram himself from you and anything and everything related to you. 

He was proud of himself though. He was doing alright again, actually enjoying his job, his friends, and his own company. He even won races, he did podiums and everything he dreamed of. But still, he hoped you didn't feel like you needed to leave to let him shine. He wished you were there every time to hug you and shower you in  champagne. 

He really missed you in his life.

「 ✦ Too far gone, don’t know where we started ✦ 」

So here you were more than a year later at the Azerbaijan GP 2024. The Mercedes team invited you as a star guest so you came with your friend because alone you would have died. Actually, before coming to the paddock you had an anxiety attack and if it wasn't for your friend who made sure you felt safe and okay to go, you would’ve been on a plane back home. It was the first time since you broke up with Oscar you felt okay enough to be able to go through it. You were invited by different teams at least 15 times now. But you always lied and said you couldn't make it. You just needed to stay at home or the studio writing as far as possible from oscar and anything related to him. But you went through all of that with your therapist and she said that if you liked the sport and you really enjoyed races or anything related to it, you shouldn't let Oscar or the thought of him or what happened, deprive you of it. 

It was sunday, you preferred not to come on friday or saturday just because there were more possibilities you would bump into him. And you just weren't ready to see him. The race was insane so far. Actually, Oscar was doing more than okay. Your heart was pounding, you could hear it loud and clear. Your best friend held your hand all the time in that garage so you don't forget she’s there for you. And that you’re okay.  You knew you shouldn't be afraid of him because he was an angel. But you were scared of yourself and how would you handle that situation. You came to terms that actually, everything that happened between him and you, it was that your insecurities just made everything so toxic that he couldn't handle it all. It didn't feel good when you realised that but it is what it is. You didn't know better and forgiving yourself for that was the hardest part of the process. 

You squeezed your best friend's hand, it was the last lap. Your heart is almost out of your body. You are wearing an old Oscar hoodie. You really liked it, plus you came here looking like shit in your opinion. You didn't even brush your hair nor that you needed it like before, now your hair is super short. Everyone in the garage was watching closely and before you could actually process what you ‘ve just seen. Your friends shouted “omg” in unison not believing what they saw.

Destiny had its twisted ways to be honest. Osca won the race. he won. You were just shocked. 

You were here and he won, like, what are the chances of that to happen actually? First race you’re back and he wins. and in that way. Your friends hugged you. 

“Holy shit that 's really insane shit” Nikola said, watching the screens at the garage. 

“We need to go guys, i don't wanna see him, please” you didn't know why you started to panic like that. Sonny looked at Nikola and just got you out of there. 

At the Mercedes hospitality you felt safe while the celebrations were held. There was no reason or chance Oscar walked into the Mercedes building, right?  You were drinking some coffee with you girls trying to focus on the conversation about any other driver but Oscar, just around strategy and stuff. You were trying really hard but you couldn't stop thinking about the fact that maybe he could come into you any time. Now that you see destiny hates you. 

“y/N, you okay bestie?”Sonny tried to get you out of your drawing though by touching your arm so she could catch your attention back to reality. 

“Oh yeah, I was just thinking,” you said, adjusting yourself on the chair. Nikola looked worried. 

“y/n, we can go if you need to. We don't want you to feel uncomfortable, okay? Just tell us” she said, comprehensively describing the situation and her friend's feelings. You licked your dry lips.

Before you could answer her someone interrupted you. 

“y/, is it you?” that. Fucking. Voice. Your friends’ eyes widen as surprised as you were. You turned to the voice to find, in fact, your ex boyfriend watching you so confused. You were speechless for a moment. He looked so pretty and sweaty. His eyes are shining brighter than ever you have seen. 

“Oh, hi oscar. Yeah, it’s me” you tried to play it cool but to be fair, you felt the butterflies on your stomach just like the first time you met him at that  birthday party you didn't want to go to. But luckilyyou did. Destiny is always playing dirty for you. Or geniously. You didn't know anymore. He smiled widely.

“Oh, wow, hi, yeah. I didn't know you were coming” he said nervously. Your friends looked at each other noticing. 

“I was invited by George, actually. I almost didn't come tho. How crazy, you win right? You did an amazing race. "You were surprised that you could even have a proper conversation with him while your heart was hurting out of anxiety, nervousness and butterflies were everywhere. 

Oscar Felt his chest tighter. His stomach was happy to see you, he knew. “Thank you,” he said sweetly. You looked so pretty under the light of the Mercedes building. You were his hoodie, your favorite, but he didn't know if it was appropriate to mention it. Your hair was so short and looked so beautiful on you. It actually made you look prettier. Your face was the face of an angel, he always thought that. But with that haircut it only intensified your perfection. He felt stupid. Just like the first time he saw you at that party he wasn't even invited directly. Destiny always played on his favour with you, until that night. He didn't even want to remember it. You looked so different yet you felt the same. Your perfume was the same, he knew. It’s the one he gifted you on your 6 month anniversary. You used to celebrate each month. 

An awkward silence makes its presence between you two, not knowing what else to say or comment. 

“Congrats oscar on the win” sonny tried to save you from misery right there capturing oscar’s attention. He smiled gently, thanking her and nikola. He recognized them and gave them a hug. He seemed happy to see them. You smiled remembering your nights playing uno and drinking wine and baking canela rolls when winter break came around. You Missed him more than you’ve ever thought you would. And something inside you just felt exactly the same you always felt with him. He altered the chemistry in your brain so easily it was kind of scary. 

“Hey osc! Zac wants to talk to you! What are you doing here?” Lando Norris came into the building as well. He was your friend. when he saw who Oscar was, he grinned. “Hey, bestie, whatchu doing here?” he said happily, giving you a comforting hug. He was genuinely surprised because you didn't even tell you. He suspected Oscar was here because George told him you were here. He can't keep secrets. And he knew it was George because he was sure Lewis didn't even know you. 

“George invited us,” you explained after he stepped back.

“Okay let's go, great to see you girl. Hope to see you around more often "Oscar said while looking directly at you in the last sentence to then disappear dragging Lando out of the hospitality. Your friends looked at you and you looked at them.

“I need a whole vodka bottle down my throat right now” you sentence, making them laugh. But you didn't. You felt scared of what you felt a few moments ago. 

(...)

New year is here. You were invited along with your friends by lando to his beginning of the year party here in Monaco. And oh you knew Oscar was gonna be there. Of course, he is one of his closest friends also.

This time you felt more calm and collected around the fact you were going to see him again. I think being drunk was the thing you were thanked for. If something felt rare,you would drink straight vodka or tequila and the problem was solved. You didn’t even have to think about it. 

Your friend helped choose the sexiest dress for you. It was a satin white little dress with broderie endings. Pretty subtle but at the same time suggesting. Just how you were. Angel face, dirty minded. Problem was you couldn't date people because of the Oscars. Because since you saw him those seconds in Azerbaijan, you couldn't stop seeing his shiny eyes and beautiful smile every time you close your eyes. You didn't interact all of this time, you didn't even follow each other on social media. 

Mystery drove you I guess. And who could blame you? It was Oscar Piastri, the one you had to forget. But I just couldn't. You missed his touch, his breath, his voice, his lips. 

Your friend took you out of your thoughts telling you they needed to go to the bathroom. You Followed them around the party up to the toilets. They got in but you decided to wait outside because the music was just so good you wanted to enjoy it. You always wished you could write a party song but it isn't your thing at all. Nor you didn't have the personality for it. You were too deep of a person. You needed to cut deep. Be someone to suffer along with. Or at least that’s how you perceive yourself as an artist. 

“y/N?” not that voice again. That damn voice. Though this time you were waiting for it. You looked up to find a drunk Oscar in front of you. You were breathless for a moment. How can a man become so much hotter in just a year? You smiled at him feeling your strawberry lip gloss. 

“Hoy, osc. What’s up?” you said easily. The alcohol made it easier actually. When he smiled you almost died. You Adored his smile since that party you didn't even want to go to. You thought you fell in love with him just right there. Just right here…?

“I was looking for Danny, have you seen him?” he said normally, ignoring his heart, almost skipping a beat when he saw you in that short white dress. He hoped not to be drooling in your face. Since he saw you again, he couldn't get you out of his head. You were everyday hunting him. He wanted to text you but he wasn't sure if he should. You seem so happy now, he didn't want to ruin it. He convinced himself that probably the best for you was staying away from him as much as possible. At the end of the day, he was the reason you hurt, right? Or he wanted to believe that. 

For a moment you watched his lips talking to you. His drunk voice always turned you on. But you couldn't show it. Not anymore. You looked back at his eyes. Half smile on your face while shaking your head “no, i didn't. Iwas waiting for my friends that are in the bathroom” you explained and he nodded. 

“Well, I'll keep looking then. See you around” he told you to go back into the crowd to look for his friends. Hesaw the way you looked at his lips. He had to be the stronger one. It was better this way. As much as he wanted to eat you out right there and then.

He hurt you. He didn't understand you. He didn't deserve you. He made sure to protect you from himself. Even though all he wanted was to be with you.

「 ✦ the (your) truth is out ✦ 」

yourusername made a post

liked by sabrinacarpenter, user456, landonorris and 1,543,678 others

yourusername: i'm so excited to finally tell you our biggest secret! my new ep 'almost said i miss you' will be out february 14 <3 (trying to resignificate the date lol) these songs are really important to me and i can't wait till they finally become yours. thank u to the bestest bestie in the worl for guiding me and helping me through it all, it wouldn't have been possible without you. and you guys for the support, you don't know how much you mean to me :,) thank you for listening to my music since day one. i feel so lucky! see you in a few weeks :D

tagged: sabrinacarpenter, y/nhq

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sabrinacarpenter: so proud of you baby, my fav artist forever. just keep smiling! it's so beautiful to see you happy <3

nikolabff: we are so proud of you gorgeous! the prettiest songs I’ve ever heard 🥹

sonnybff: girl you always serve, thank you for sharing your art to the world I admire you like crazy. So proud of you baby, I love you <3

user489: 'trying to resignificate the date' WHY AM I SOBBING AT WORK

User99: THE TRACKLIST 😭😭😭😭😭

↳ user87: “I miss you, I’m sorry” I CHOKED

user45: it hurt

user12: so excited

landonorris: can`t wait for the world to cry their eyes out just like i did when i heard them :( (it still hurt and I cry before falling asleep)

↳ nikolabff: bro same 😭😭😭

↳ maxverstappen: babygirl

↳ landonorris: get outta here 😡

georgerussel: I know who will cry listening to this

↳ danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri

↳ landonorris: @/oscarpiastri

↳ sonnybff: guys knock it the fuck off

hattiepiastri: so prod of you girl! Can’t wait to listen to it!

↳ user67: NOT HIS SISTER OMG

↳ user08: I don’t wanna be delusional but girl you

don’t help

↳ user134: they NEED to get back together I don’t

wanna suffer anymore I know Hattie

wants it too 😭

user1: I’m not alright knowing these are for oscar tbh IM DEAD and I haven’t even listened to them yet

taylorswift: and artist of the year goes to…

olivirodrigo: my day to day inspiration

user975: I love girls supporting girls

user56: @/f1gossipofficial is there something about this you’d like to share????

「 ✦ The aftermath - february 14 ✦ 」

Oscar was back to the UK training for the beginning of the new season. It was the coldest winter he experienced. He got back home from mclaren hq. He took a hot shower to warm himself. His apartment was silent. It felt empty for the first time. Like something was missing. He went straight into bed. He wasn't that hungry anyway, but he was tired indeed. 

“Hey, listen to it. I think you need to” 

He saw his sister Hattie's notification pop up on his screen confusing him abit. He went into the messages app and opened his sister’s. When he did he understood what she was talking about. A knot on this throat formed. It was y/n ep. Guess he now understood taylor swift’s exes. It’s hard to date a musician ust because of the aftermath of the relationship. 

“Just do it. You will understand why once you did” 

Another message popped up on this screen and sighed heavily. Probably his sister was right but at the same time he was scaredas fuck. He opened it on spotify, she looked as pretty as ever on the cover of it. ‘Almost said I miss you’ - that was the title and only had 3 songs. By the names of them he suspected it was about him but he tried to believe they weren't even though his sister already told him that they were. He decided to listen to it in order.

He took his headphones from his nightstand so he could hear your voice clearly. All over his head. Cutting deep into his fiber. 

The first piano tiles started playing and his heart was already sinking. Hearing her voice so raw and close and clear sent shivers down his spine. He heard every single word you said. It described perfectly that horrible and forgettable night you broke up. Hearing your voice crack broke his heart into a million pieces. It wasn't even half of the song when he started crying. He knew what he said under his breath that sent you both straight into hell. He felt so guilty about everything. He really just wished to talk to you. 

When he started to hear the second song he knew it was about that race you went. He hoped to see you in the next one, and the next one. But you didn't go again. The lyrics were so real his skin felt every word. 

When he heard you saying that you felt sorry his tears streamed down his face more violently. He didn't recognize this person. But you always had this effect on him. With you he was a feeler, one that felt way too deeply. Unlike the person he shows to people. You always knew the real him. He couldn't lie to you. Even though you thought he would cheat on  you. He would never. Hearing you wanting to hold him broke his heart. Why did you both have to do this the hard way? Why didn't you just be happy with each other? He really missed you. He missed everything about you. Your presence around him. He was his best version with you. Now he feels like a ghost of who he used to be. 

The last song just ended him. 

‘Do you remember being happy together? I do, don't you? Then all of the sudden, you’re sick to your stomach. Is that still true?’ he whipped his tears the best he could. 

You never called her or told her you missed her. But he guessed you would have liked it like that. 

‘everything i know brings me back to us. Everywhere I go leads me back to you’ he felt the same. 

He didn't know what to do. He had a battle inside him. He promised himself he would stay away from you so you could be happy just like you deserved. But at the same time he wanted to be happy and he knew you made him happy. He was happy with you. 

“So? Call her please oscar. You both deserve to be happy and figure things out along the way, together”

Hattie read his mind. Her text just in time when he is back into the silent apartment. The empty and cold apartment that once was full of laughter and music because you were with him. He missed you so much. He missed hearing you play guitar rumbling words then writing them down. You hugged when he was back home, you cuddled in bed when he was sad, your perspective on things. He missed every detail about you.

But was he ready to come back to you?

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

author's note: SO I DELETED IT BY MISTAKE AND I HAD TO REDO IT :(((((((( i've never been this sad but I hope you like it anyway. (This like a 2.0 version) it's the longest fic i've ever written and i love it sm :,) oscar piastri i deeply love you.

idk if I should do a part 2, should I?

also shout to to my international friends nikola and sonny, you girls at the best mwak mwak 💌

don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together)

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

dylric angst fanfic - part two

includes necro, noncon, hints of prey/predator, etc.

notes: rapist murder with a side of library necro suicide please! (yes so what if i used zero hour pictures for the banner…)

edit: ((if my phone corrects my shit one more time im gonna smash it…its SUPPOSED TO BE ZERO HOUR SMH…))

right to the end, just like a friend

i tried to warn you somehow

you had your way, now you must pay

im glad that youre sorry now

the hours had passed by quicker then dylan and eric could comprehend.

dylan had spent the whole night, sobbing into erics shoulder while he sat there and held him. it was the sweetest thing hes ever done for him.

until now.

they were dressed and ready to go. everything they needed to do was done, they were in their spots, and now all they had to do was wait for the bombs to go off in the cafeteria.

dylan stared at the building while everything was starting to hit him. this was really gonna happen, he was really gonna do this.

he was going to do this with his best friend and prove to everyone that they were gods - they decided who lived and who died for their mistakes.

he thinks to himself though that they shouldve gone off at this point.

he looked across the lot to eric, seeing him looking down at his watch and shaking his head. he looks up and then back down, cursing to himself.

he makes a quick move to grab the rest of what needed out of his car and dylan does as well once he sees it.

he had no idea what they were gonna do now - their plan revolved around the bombs, but as long as his friend had some semblance of a plan then he was fine with that.

eric walks his way over across the lot to dylan “cmon, vee, lets just get this over with - that freakin’ crap isnt gonna go off.” he was obviously annoyed, but he was gonna make the most out of this.

dylan nodded “yeah - yeah, alright.” is all he answered with before they both turned to head in.

-

they took care of everyone outside with ease, then dealt with everyone inside. it was going a little smoother then they expected it to, but it still had its faults.

they were split up for awhile too before they finally came back together and recuperated, ready for their next step.

however, dylan hadnt noticed any of the boys they were *really* after. they had taken care of who they wanted to except for them.

if they had stayed home today for whatever reason or had somehow escaped then this was totally ruined.

it made dylan nervous and frustrated - it made eric absolutely pissed.

he wasnt gonna go down without those fuckers going down with them - he promised dylan that it would be the last thing he does.

they walk through one of the hallways, glass cracking beneath their boots and blood making the floor slippery.

“have you seen them yet?” eric asked, looking over to dylan. he wasnt sure exactly what they looked like or who they were - he had a very vague idea, but it was hard to get any information from dylan about it.

the blonde shook his head “no, i havent. theyve gotta be around here somewhere - i thought i saw their cars in the lot.” he had remembered seeing the cars parked outside, but he couldve just been seeing things.

they both could tell how each other were feeling. eric could tell that dylan was on edge and was frustrated that he might not get to see them be taken down before his own death while dylan could tell that eric was pissed they were being pussies and not showing themselves - so much for being tough guys, huh?

“its fine, ill find them. dont worry,” eric reassured him, but paused “i promised you that.” he hesitated to say it and it came out all embarrassed, but it made dylan smile.

“thanks, reb.” he replied as they turned the corner.

the brunette was about to say something else, but as they rounded that corner they were face to face with who they were looking for.

there was four of them there. four muscular white guys who were jocks on the schools sports teams. they looked all tough and proud, but now they were about to be nothing.

they were trying to open one of the exit doors and as if it was some miracle from the god they didnt believe in, the door was jammed. it wouldnt open no matter how hard they tried.

it made eric snicker - natural selection, bitch, is what he thought.

the brunette looks to the other, seeing the blank look on his face and his stiff posture. that alone told him all he needed to know.

he walks right up ahead, checking his gun as he did so to make sure it was loaded.

“hey, assholes!,” he called over to them “turn around, let me get a good look at you!”

they each turn their heads, confused, but the confusion quickly turns to horror as they try harder to open the door.

“cmon, man, you dont gotta shoot us,” one of them speaks up, but he fails to sound manly and his voice shook “we didnt do shit to you!” he spat while his friends tried to tell him to lay off.

erics eyes narrowed, glaring while his finger hovered over the trigger “are you that retarded? didnt do anything?,” he laughed, turning his head to look at dylan who was a little further back “vodka, did these fags do something? or are we just making it up?”

dylan shakes his head as if to say they werent making it up. he swallowed hard.

“yeah? name one fuckin’ thing!” the other answered with quickly. he clearly wasnt too smart to be taunting like this.

dylan doesnt want to name anything. he doesnt want to describe what happened just for these sick fucks. he doesnt want to think about it more then he already has.

he hoped eric understood and he did.

he turned to look back at the other boys “you know what you did.” he hissed, respecting dylans obvious discomfort.

none of the boys say anything for a moment until one of them whispers something to the other.

“oh - oh, yeah! *you* guys!,” he laughed “i didnt do shit to *you*, harris, but maybe to that freak over there!,” he continued laughing as he pointed towards dylan - even his friends who were hesitant before seemed to giggle along with him “it was all just a joke, ya know, we didnt mean anything! way to get overdramatic like a girl!”

he just wouldnt shut up and even his friends joined in, saying snide remarks and insults.

the two of them just stared, listening to all of it. let them run their mouths and ruin this for themselves, they figured.

“youre such a pussy, klebold! making your little boyfriend fight for you? seriously? man up, shoot me like a fuckin’ man!”

that was it for eric. he raised his gun and pressed his finger down on the trigger - all hell broke loose again.

it was a symphony of screaming, bullets, and the click of his gun. it was music to his ears.

dylan on the other hand was in complete shock - like an animal almost. it was surreal to watch the boys who assaulted him be murdered right in front of him, especially by his best friend.

he didnt ever entertain thoughts like this, but, god was it hot.

he couldnt even think of a better way to say it - it was just *hot.*

eric looked so focused, so set on making sure each of them had enough lead put into them to last them their trip to hell. the way his shirt and pants clung to him - the sweat dripping down his forehead and arms - it was all so attractive.

he lets off the last couple of bullets, the hallway turning eerily quiet and peaceful besides the distant shrill of the fire alarm and police outside. they both stare at the mess of blood and bodies.

eric doesnt even realize when dylan finally walks up next to him, abruptly grabbing him by his face with both hands and placing his lips to his.

his eyes widened, completely caught off guard. he wasnt expecting anything like that at all - maybe just some shared words about how good it felt to do that, but not a kiss.

eric knew better, but it gave him a sick sense of power.

he just murdered his best friends rapists for him - it was almost like he owed him now.

he could be the hero and kill those guys, but that doesnt make him any better. he was a teenage boy with an obsession for power.

dylan pulled away less then a second later, clearly embarrassed “sorry, sorry,” it comes out quickly, ready to explain himself “you just - looked really good,” it comes out a little softer then he meant it to. theres a soft layer of blush that eric is just barely able to make out on his face “thank you, eric.”

they werent more then friends. thats what they thought, but there was always something - something between the two of them that extended far past the label of friendship. an underlying need.

even the events from the previous night theyd chalk up to close friendship, but it was more then that.

eric doesnt reply, but instead grabs the front of dylans shirt and pulls him back down, kissing him again.

the blonde is surprised, but he quickly reciprocates.

it was ironic how intimate this seemed considering their situation, but this was their last chance to ever do something like this. no one was here to judge them - it was just them and the end of their world.

they stay there like that without a care and its so oddly sweet, but erics own needs get the best of him.

he lets go of his friends shirt, but instead puts his hands on his hips - his nails dig in just the smallest bit.

however, dylan isnt a fan. it makes him a little uncomfortable - he was more then grateful for what he just did for him, but he wasnt trying to be like *that*.

he pulled away just a moment later, wiping away some of his spit with the back of his gloved hand.

the brunette is less then happy to have him pull away, but he doesnt say anything about it. he knew better - thats what he told himself.

“i think we should go.” the other broke their silence. the end was inevitable and they both knew it. they didnt want to say it outright, but they already knew what needed to be done.

“yeah,” eric answered back “im done with this crap anyway. we gave them what they were asking for - lets go.”

-

its a quiet walk down to the library aside from the occasional comment with laughter and the random firing of their guns.

they had did it - they accomplished the only goal they set out for themselves. they did what they had to do.

now it would be over - all the chaos and terror would come to an end and they would finally be set free from this hell they were born into.

now they were in the library, sitting on the floor together. they ran their plans over hundreds of times, but they never really seemed to go over this part.

they were both checking over their guns, making sure they were set and ready.

“we’re doing it together, right?” eric asked, earning a nod from dylan “yeah. should be easiest that way.”

the discussion of that stops there. there wasnt really much to be said. they were going to die no matter how they did it.

dylan goes to place the end of his gun to the roof of his mouth, but he paused, turning to his friend.

“thank you - you know, for everything,” the other turns his head as he speaks “you were a great friend, reb.” theres something so surreal about the way he says it - they never put any thought into what their last words would be, so for it to be something so genuine was odd.

the brunette smiled “yeah, you too, vee,” its so weird to hear anything nice come out of his mouth, but it happens anyway “guess we’ll see each other in hell, huh?” he laughed and so does the other. they could barely ever take themselves seriously.

“yeah, man. ill see you there.” he replied back through his laughing. it sounded like they were just joking around - like they hadnt just murdered people and were about to finish themselves.

the laughter dies down though, being their final sign to get things moving along.

dylan placed the gun where it needed to be, glancing over to eric as if to let him know he should do it too, which he does.

neither of them make a move - at least until the blonde turns his head away, finger over the trigger. his friend followed his actions, keeping a finger over the trigger as well.

only a moment later did eric hear the bang from the gun, followed by the thud of his friends body falling.

this was where he was supposed to pull the trigger - end whatever suffering he was supposedly going through, but something makes him hesitate.

he knows what hes supposed to do - he knows he shouldn’t look over and should just get this over with, but he cant help it when he pulls the gun away and looks over to dylan.

it was just about as graphic as he wouldve expected. his head was blown open and the blood was already making a mess on the floor - he noticed how some of the splatter even got on his arm.

it was definitely weird to see his friend that way, but he couldn’t seem to piece together any other emotions. it was just *weird.*

he looks away and puts the gun back to where it belongs. he had to get this over with and just be done with it - there was no other way out of it. however, again, something makes him hesitate.

thats until he hears what sounds like gagging and choking.

he moves the gun away again and looks back over, seeing now that dylan was choking on his own blood while his body seemed to twitch and convulse.

it was a bad shot - a terrible shot even. he shouldve aimed better, but eric couldnt look away.

he just stared and watched.

it was wrong - so, so wrong about what he thought of next. he still owed him - he owed him for killing those guys who had hurt him. he didnt want to be on the same level as those guys, but he was far past that now that hes killed their classmates and committed crimes of his own.

he quietly set his gun down on the floor, getting up and sitting right in between his thighs.

was he seriously going to do this? was he really going to be as sick and disgusting as those guys - if not worse? yes, he was.

he swallowed hard, reaching a hand up to unzip his pants and pull them down. hes greeted with pale, scarred skin and thin thighs. it was a little off putting - he wasnt a big fan of the scars, but he carried on anyway.

he knew he had to make this as quick as possible considering there probably wouldnt be a lot of time before the police arrived in the building. of course, he didnt know that it would take them as long as it really did, but he just had to make the assumption.

he quickly pulled down his boxers and barely gives himself a chance to look at him before he was already taking care of his own. he unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down just enough to take his cock out.

it was kind of disgusting how hard he already was. who knew all this murder and gore would get him so worked up.

eric readjusted their position, fixing the position of dylans legs and body, which was hard to do because of all the involuntary movement.

any thoughts of morality were thrown out the window at this point - there was no time for him to think about how wrong this was. he just had to do it. it was owed to him.

he lines up with the other, forcing himself in with a hiss. it was a tight fit - he wasnt welcomed here and he never would be. the groan it pulled out from dylan only proved that further.

he pulls back out, pushing back in and trying to get a pace started. its slow and rather awkward - he had never had sex with anyone before so he really only knew how to do this because of porn - and even that wasnt a great reference material when dylan didnt have a cunt like the girls he watched.

the brunette tries to make it work though, biting down on his lip as he forced himself in as far as he could go.

he would be lying if he said it didnt feel good. it felt *amazing.* maybe the blonde really did feel that good or maybe the situation made it better. he had no idea and he would never know.

he holds onto his hips for more leverage, trying to build up a better, quicker pace. it works somewhat - his own precum starting to make the slide bearable and easy.

he pulled another noise from the boy on the floor once he started to go faster, listening to his continued gagging and groaning. it was like he was aware, but just not quite.

it didnt matter though, he was gonna finish one way or another.

shame starts to creep its way in, but he has to shove it down. he feels ashamed that hes doing this to his best friend whos about half dead on the floor - not to mention he was another guy. his first time shouldve been with some pretty girl he met, not with a guy he considered his best friend who was bleeding out onto the floor.

at the same time though theres something about that specific fact. something so primal about taking what was his - not having a care about what anyone would think of him for doing this. he was an animal, a predator taking what he needed from his prey - what he was owed and deserved.

the thought of that alone just about sends him over the edge - thrusting in particularly hard with a moan of his own. he does it again, followed by one more until hes finally spilling inside of him.

the twitch of dylans body and the gagging seems to stop as he did so.

he stays inside of him, not bothering to pull out. his whole body felt fuzzy and there was a sort of hazy feeling that hung over him. it was euphoric, really.

he has to pull out though against his own needs, looking over his work. he just about gets another erection when barely any of his cum leaks out.

he has to refrain himself though. he stuffs his own cock back into his boxers, fixing his pants and then turning his attention to his friend. he pulls up his pants and boxers too, fixing them and putting everything back into place.

eric wondered what the reports would say about this. what the autopsy report would say about the cum left inside of his friend and on his own dick - maybe theyd say he had raped him in death which wouldnt be wrong, or maybe theyd think it happened before - that dylan was some kind of faggot who willingly took it up the ass.

either way, it didnt matter.

eric wouldnt be around to see it and neither would dylan.

[monstersinthecosmos]

I read your answer, where did you say "Pandora is his actual type and Armand was his pet"

But how could Armand be just a pet for him? He is one of only three of his turned children. Marius speaks of him as the greatest love (along with Pandora). Although I see some hypocrisy in this. Marius loves no one as much as Pandora. But certainly more than just a pet

Well !

Babe the thing is that, I said what I said and it’s okay if you don’t agree!!! And I’m gonna take this opportunity to double down. (Assuming that you’re asking in good faith and not to pick on me for my analysis lmao please this fandom has traumatized me too much.)

(((TLDR the text never treats Armand like he’s Marius’s equal but also I never said that being a pet was a bad thing.)))

I want to start by talking about the concept of MAKER in VC and how canon tells us that vampires exist outside of human social constructs, including traditional family roles right? Like for example, the moment Gabrielle is turned, she ceases to be Lestat’s mother. 

But with Marius I think a lot about how he’s crafted a persona for himself, and tries to operate in a very rigid set of rules. And part of this is like, how determined he is to live by stoicism even when he’s a mess on the inside, but I also think about in TVL when he says that thing about how it’s easier to just knock a glass on the floor, and how he goes out of his way to appear more human and retain human gestures. 

So like, in the way a MAKER is kinda like, a parent/lover/companion/something too big for our tiny human minds to comprehend. We still get a Marius who is determined to be a father & mentor, and I think a lot about how his need for stoicism and humanity is probably also expressed with his need to be the paterfamilias. 

I’ve been also thinking a lot lately about Bad Fathers in Media—specifically people like Tony Soprano, Logan Roy, Roderick Usher—and how the toxic patriarchy affects their relationships with their sons. Tony Soprano in particular is one who resonates with me a lot when I think about Marius—Tony often indulges in anger because he enjoys being feared (he thinks it’s respect but it’s usually fear), and that’s a bit different on a material level from Marius “anger is too pathetic” de Romanus but they’re both sort of obsessed with the idea of stoicism and trying to be a ~ strong silent type ~ on the outside, even when they’re actually quite messy and emotional underneath.

But wait — put a pin in this for a second. We’ll come back to this, and the concept of fathers and sons. I want to pause real quick to swerve to clarify:

Armand being a pet isn’t a bad thing.

It wasn’t “pet (derogatory) 😒” —  it’s “pet (adorable creature that I care for) 🥰”.

Here’s the thing about MARIMAND if you will (I hate ship the VC ship names oh my god theyre all hideous lmao) but like OKAY OKAY. THE THING IS. WHAT ARE WE HERE FOR IF WE’RE NOT INTO THE FUCKEDUPEDNESS ? 

Like I’m not telling anyone how to enjoy a ship, please have fun ! Do you! But to ME? That inter-species friction and 1,517 year age gap is like WHAT THE DYNAMIC IS ABOUT, THAT’S THE FLAVOR BABY!!! Anne Rice herself even said the book was about “a boy’s love for a monster” !!

WHAT’S THE POINT OF MONSTERFUCKER EROTICA IF HE’S NOT A MONSTER LOL

And YEAH I get that not everyone wants to read TVA as a monsterfucker story. That’s okay! It also reads as a savior fantasy. But I enjoy the messiness of it—I LIKE that Marius is an apex predator & ghoulish ancient thing. I like that it’s problematic. I LOVE that Marius really does love him, though, amidst all these other themes. I find it SO compelling.

But I never once said that Marius doesn’t love him. Of course Marius loves him. What I said is that he loves Armand the way we love a pet. I would fucking die for my cats. I regularly burst into tears looking at my cats because I love them so much. But they’re fucking cats lmao.

I never for one minute forget that Marius isn’t human. He’s operating on a whole different wavelength with different points of references and ethics and life experiences. Like, people get so hung up on Armand being 17 and IT WOULD BE JUST AS BAD IF HE WAS 18 OR 25 OR 30 LOL. A frail little human cannot comprehend !!!!!

What’s interesting with Marius’s fledglings though is that he tends not to treat them as equals. Like I think you could read TVA thinking: Once Marius turns him, they’ll be real partners. But no, they stick to their mentor/mentee, dom/sub, father/son roles. We don’t have tons of examples in canon of other maker/fledgling relationships but it’s not a coincidence that Roman Patriarch Marius maintains status over his fledglings. Even once Armand is a vampire, he’s still not Marius’s equal, and Marius’s age and power are still held over him. 

BUT LIKE.

That’s weird, right?

I MEAN THE DARK GIFT IS DIFFERENT FOR EVERYONE but it’s interesting to me that Lestat & Gabrielle’s relationship completely dissolves once she’s a vampire, but Marius & Armand’s doesn’t.

(Sidebar that like, I think there’s also ways to acknowledge that if we think their relationship is good that it’s OKAY for them to maintain these roles because Armand WANTS to be his sub but let me focus on my point here. We should also make time to talk about diegetic BDSM and whether or not it’s appropriate to use a D/s framework for this discussion if the roles are baked into the text and not a choice for the characters and not a game they are agreeing to but that’s for another post.)

So back to the thing about fathers.

I’ve been thinking a lot about bad father characters, specifically Logan Roy and Tony Soprano (also bad mother Margaret Chenowith) and the impossible standards they give their children. Logan and Tony are both men who are disappointed in their sons for being soft, because they were able to provide better lives for their children. They both spoil their sons with all the material wealth that they did not have in their own lives. For Logan we see how badly he resents his kids—Kendall even accuses him of being jealous of what they have—and for Tony he seems to be at a loss on how to parse his feelings. Part of him literally hates AJ for being such a whimsical little fuckup, and at the same time he wants to protect that part of AJ and doesn’t even WANT AJ to follow in his footsteps. Still, he hates to see that AJ is spoiled with no work ethic, and doesn’t know how to set an example for him.

Everything in Venice is designed to spoil Armand with all the things Marius didn’t get—it’s such a specific & deliberate opposite of how Marius was turned. And I think him seeing Armand as a pet puts a little bit of distance between the hurt he’d feel if he thought of Armand as a true son, or even an equal. He doesn’t have to resent Armand for having it easier than he did, but also doesn’t have to feel extremely betrayed by Armand fitting in with the cult. Like, let’s never 4get that by the time Marius catches up with Armand, Armand is right at home and thriving with them. A CULT? THE THING THAT KILLED ME????? Marius has no idea what the fuck they did to him, he just knows that Armand settled in just fine and has discarded everything that Marius tried to teach him. 

I think these roles are appropriately all muddled because it’s VC—like we said, the No Social Constructs series—so like, how do we compare the words SON and PET and FLEDGLING and SUB, I’m not sure. But my point is that he’s never seen or treated Armand as an equal, and perhaps never even a full adult person. 

ARE THESE IDEAS CONFLICTING? A little. But that’s okay. Am I incoherent and ill-equipped to tackle this analysis or is it because Marius is not a consistent person and never quite lives up to the ideal he’s trying to be? Does he want Armand to be his pet but secretly has feelings? Does he fail at being a father figure? Is he brushing off his Big Big Emotions so that he doesn’t have to admit how wrecked and destroyed he is and how badly his feelings were hurt? Idk man. I’m sure you can send me another anon to tell me I’m wrong. 

I wonder sometimes if like, keeping Armand at this lower status (like a pet) actually protects Armand from Marius’s ire and disappointment. Marius is sort of a father, but sort of not. He’s crafted a role for himself that is never all the way sincere, and it allows him some space to protect his own feelings of betrayal and disappointment when it comes to Armand. Marius is also classically bad at following his own rules, and never quite sticks the landing on the people he’s trying to be. 

I can imagine a version of events where Armand does gain some ground with Marius, maybe pays his dues and matures into someone that Marius trusts and respects, but that’s not the version of events we get in canon. Marius turns Armand, Armand remains his pupil, they visit Kiev and Marius is jealous of Armand’s father, they make it all the way to the raid without Marius ever confiding about The Parents. Even in the present day, during a dispute, Marius tells Armand he has the savage & ignorant soul of a child. Even in the present day, Marius won’t stop calling him Amadeo!!!! 

And like!!!!! It feels like Marius is more upset about Santino wronging him by ruining his home and taking his toys than he is about what Santino did to ARMAND. It’s more about Marius’s own feelings and possessions than it is about Armand’s own feelings and experience of what happened. AN ARMAND FRIDGING, IF YOU WILL. 

Anyway.

By never seeing Armand as a complete person, Marius never has to feel threatened by him. We see this in toxic parents a lot. Like, I want you to be good, but I’m insecure if you’re better than me. Or I can never fully respect your feelings because I always see you as a child and not a fully grown adult. And the truth is that Marius is actually quite threatened by Armand, on the inside. He is very hurt. He cares what Armand thinks of him. He’s relieved at the end of BCtu when he assumes that Armand wants to open his heart again. 

So idk like. I think the books end with a little bit of a hope for them; we see a lot of growth and self-acceptance from Marius in the last book and it’s reasonable to assume that he and Armand might have a long chat and nice long cry and work it out. I don’t think it’s completely set in stone, but it’s nice to think about! A nice happy ending. And I wonder if this is when Marius finally takes Armand seriously and listens to what he has to say without demeaning him! 

Am I gonna add 2000 more words to this point by tying it what the whole like “I fear him because I could love him again” thing in TVA means? No I’m not. But like. Again! It’s okay to be a pet, I think Armand liked being his pet. :) 

[luv-y0urself]

18 headcanons for woon's 18th !

day 1 : living with woon . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

established relationship!au | roommate!woon x fem!reader ♫．genre : slice of life, so much fluff... | wc : 789 | warnings : second person pov ! woon is implied to be a student ⏤ in college or high school is up to you to decide. as always, there is some mild bickering too :') 𖤐．first post of the series ! happy birthday once again, woon <3 make sure to let me know which one you guys like the most for the full fic on the seventh day ! more details on the masterlist linked below ↓

ᵔᴗᵔ﹕masterlist | next day . . . tba !

living together-

there would never be a dull day if woonhak was living with you… literally. there’s always one thing or another happening around you guys, and you guys always make the most of it. 

like, there was one time when woonhak insisted that you teach him some of the yoga/pilates things you’ve been doing in your freetime, saying something like “it can’t be that hard…”

oh boy. poor guy was shaking just using a foam roller and doing a couple of exercises with it while you were nearly crying from laughter. 

“you won’t even be able to use a reformer!!”

“sh-shut up!! yes i can!!”

but even when you guys bicker with each other like that, woonhak is still someone that you can rely on for anything.

sometimes there are just days where you don’t want to do anything and just want to stay home, but he forces you to get up and do something, even if that’s going on a short little walk with him outside for some fresh air or just being next to his warmth while he’s doing homework for some of his classes, listening to his voice talking about random things to make you feel better.

he always has food prepared for you on those days – not processed, delivered food, but actual homemade food that he made, freshly prepared for you to eat.

“... thanks, woon.”

“you have to do the dishes.”

“are you kidding me???”

throwing tantrums-

cue the hundreds of videos of woon on the floor throwing a tantrum…

if something doesn’t go his way… this is definitely the type of move he would pull out of his pocket.

FOR EXAMPLE. if something goes wrong w the game he’s playing, he would lay on the floor and start doing this, causing you to run out of the kitchen, not even caring about the flour from your apron leaving a trail behind you as you stare at his flailing body.

of course. just when you're making your favorite cookies to eat during the weekend...

“... woon…?”

“oh my GOD i literally cannot beat this level this is absolutely horrible i’m so bad at this game–”

“woon– oh my god–” you run over and reach out to him to grab his hand holding the flailing controller, putting it down and grabbing both his wrists, successfully putting them above his head as you stare down at him. he finally stops and sighs, looking into your eyes.

“you know, sometimes i wonder if i’m babysitting a child or if i’m living with my boyfriend.”

woon scoffs, all thoughts about the game forgotten as he swiftly switches your positions so that he was on top of you now.

“well, obviously your boyfriend, right?” he gives you a mischievous smile before he starts tickling your sides, getting flour all over his clothing and face before you’re finally able to make him stop.

yes, throwing a tantrum means you have to go and calm him down… which also means this happens every single time too. you still haven’t quite figured out a way to get out of the situation, which wasn't good because woon was getting better day by day at finding your weak spots.

"woon – oh my god – let go of me! my cookies are going to burn!"

"not until you say that i'm the bestest boyfriend in the world."

"jesus christ–"

coparenting a pet-

now, although you insisted that you have enough on your hands with woon in the house, he always wanted to get a pet – a pet dog, specifically. you’ve always said no because that would be too much of a commitment for you guys. but… for his birthday, you finally decided to give in – all the while doing a small prank.

see, you packaged a couple of cute dog toys and gave it to him on the morning of his birthday. he opened them up, happy to see the plushies but a little confused. 

“aren’t these for… dogs…?”

you couldn’t help but smile. “check outside.”

his eyes light up immediately and he zooms out of the room, and you follow him with your phone recording, watching as he picks up the dog from the box that you bought him in and had left outside just a couple minutes ago, the small brown furball nearly disappearing in his arms.

his eyes look at yours with a look of wonder and joy, and he smiles so wide, making your heart warm just by looking at the two of them together. he puts down the dog softly on the floor and immediately pulls you into his embrace, his large hand covering the back of your head and burying himself into your scent by snuggling into the crevice of your shoulder.

“thank you so much, love.”

© luv-y0urself / 2024 | taglist : @onedoornet @blankjournal

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Don't blame me, I'm the victim!

I wanted to do this and I'm not going to apologize or anything. I just don't care.

These are the stories that have been drilling into my brain lately, taking my mind off other things, making me think only about what was going on there.

Nine Lives by @mothandpidgeon

(witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader)

I mean… This is just fucking awesome! Ezra, as a cat, stole my heart. I just see him in human form doing all these things and I'm in awe.

Evergreen by @punkshort

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Read the first chapter. It's simply delightful, subtle, emotional, and so easy to read… You root for the main characters from the start.

The Might of the Realm by @604to647

(Din Djarin x Princess!Reader)

Din and Princess. That must be awesome! Their relationship, how they treat each other, how they talk… I want everything to work out for them. The descriptions of what happens in the arena - I have to pick my jaw up off the floor.

Battlefront | At Your Service by @lokischocolatefountain

(General Marcus Acacius x Empress!Reader)

My Roman Empire… Dialogues are a work of art. I love the chemistry between them. Strong female character - big applause for that.

All The Things We Never Said by @javierpena-inatacvest

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

She gave us young Frankie and childhood friendship. Then everything goes to hell and… You'll love it, okay! Just read, don't ask questions.

Neighbors by @gothcsz

(javier peña x f!reader)

The wave named after Javier has taken me and I will probably drown because I can't swim. The author doesn't even care about my life, I suspect. Each part will leave you thinking - I want more! Now!

golosa by @iamasaddie

(javier peña x f!reader)

Hot.Javier.Fast.Intense.Javier.Strong.Want It.Asshole.Javier.Hold your breath.

I hope you'll find something you haven't read yet.

Send love to the writers! ❤️

[estrellami-1]

Lavender Letters

Part 9

“Dingus!” Robin exclaims, bursting into the kitchen. “Thank God, you’re dressed, I need help.”

“Why’d you come in if you thought I wouldn’t be dressed?”

She waves him off. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you naked. Steve.” She grabs his shoulders, eyes wide. “I’m pretty sure both Vickie and Chrissy are flirting with me and I don’t know what to do.”

“Flirt back?” Steve suggests.

“But I’m terrible at flirting! You’ve seen me flirt! Save me!” She exclaims, shaking him.

“Vickie seems nice, but do you know her at all?” Eddie asks. “Why do you like her?”

Robin pauses to look at him. “That’s a good point. I don’t really know either of them, though. Do you?”

“I’ve met Vickie before. Sweet, but kind of… going through the motions, y’know? She doesn’t really seem to actually like much. Or have much of an opinion on anything.”

“And Chrissy?”

“I know her a bit better,” Eddie admits. “We met at the middle school talent show. I was with my band, and she was doing a cheer routine. She gave me a piece of gum and told me to picture everyone naked if I got nervous.” He grins at them. “We never really hung out, per se, but we got to know each other better. She’s really sweet, super passionate about cheer. From what I’ve heard she’s a decent singer, too.”

“Better than Tammy Thompson?”

“Tammy Thompson sounds like a muppet,” Eddie tells Steve, who bursts out laughing. Robin does too. “Actually, I’m pretty sure muppets are better singers than she is.” He shakes his head. “Yes, Chrissy is a better singer than Tammy Thompson.”

“And she likes singing?” Robin questions.

Eddie laughs. “Go ask her about it! I don’t really know her that well.” He picks up his and Steve’s waters and ushers them both out of the kitchen, dropping Steve’s water in his hand and pulling him by the hand the rest of the way to the living room.

He drops Steve’s hand and jumps onto the coffee table, winking at Steve as he does. “Attention, please!” He cries, grinning at everyone when they turn to look at him. “I’d like to give a very special thanks to the man who put this on for us.” He holds out a hand for Steve. “I’d also like to request we make this a tradition and keep it going. We’re not going anywhere, and we deserve the space to show it! So I propose we give it a name, and it’s only fitting the name comes from the one who began it.” He smiles at Steve. “The floor is yours.”

“Oh,” Steve says, blushing. “I- I don’t know, I’m not good at naming things.”

Eddie hums. “Maybe we’ll name it after you, then?” Steve shakes his head. “No, not your name, exactly. I’m thinking…” he cocks his head to the side. “What color is your suit?”

Steve looks down at himself. “Lavender?”

Eddie grins, throws his arms out wide. “Lavender prom! Where anyone can dance with anyone!”

“Lavender prom!” Nancy agrees, holding her drink up.

“Lavender prom!” Chrissy joins her.

“Lavender prom!” Robin parrots, blushing when Chrissy beams at her.

“Lavender prom!” Jonathan and Vickie chorus.

“Lavender prom,” Steve agrees with a smile, stepping up onto the table with Eddie. Everyone cheers, and Eddie points to Robin with a grin.

“Music!”

She turns it on, and Eddie twirls Steve out, laughing. “This is all thanks to you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs when he reels Steve back in.

Steve hums, anchors himself with a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Steve shrugs a shoulder. “For humoring my letters. For responding. For not caring who I am.”

“Back up,” Eddie says kindly. “I do care who you are. I don’t care who you pretended to be.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles. “Okay, that, then.” He falls silent for a second, searching Eddie’s face. “And for keeping this going?” He waves the hand holding his bottle around, and Eddie grins.

“I did suggest this continue, didn’t I? And it makes sense. I talked with Principal Higgins a few weeks ago.” He works his lip. “I’m not graduating.”

“Next year,” Steve says. “And you’ve got us, now. If Nancy can’t get you out of there, no one can.”

Eddie snickers. “I’ll give her a run for her money, that’s for sure.”

“She’ll win,” Steve tells him. “And you’ll graduate. And… we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Hell yeah we will,” Eddie murmurs. “‘86, baby. It’s my year.”

[eliotquillon]

i have to imagine that at some point during chase and cameron’s fwb era, chase went back to aus for a trip. what about a time zones/jealous cam drabble?

sorry this took me FOREVER and is also not really jealous cam but more…pining cam?? argh. but i tried :) set between fetal position and airborne

In the end, it isn’t House who goes on vacation after they discharge Emma Sloan. It’s Chase; he walks into work one morning, a rare day when they’re not both riding in together, shoulders hunched and face pale, and says, “House. I need to talk to you.”

“You know I hate it when you do that,” House complains, but he must see what Cameron sees: the sunken gaze, the tense fingers. Who died, Cameron thinks, but his parents are both dead already. He leads Chase to his office and shuts the blinds. Cameron looks, and looks, and looks. Chase does not look back.

*

“I’m going out of town for a few days,” Chase tells her at lunch. They are attracting stares: the whole hospital knows they’re sleeping together now, no thanks to House. No thanks to me, Cameron thinks, a little guilty, and pushes another forkful of salad into her mouth. “Can you check on my stuff while I’m gone?”

“Out of town?” Cameron presses, selfishly wanting; she regrets it as soon as she says it. Chase presses his lips together, pushes his fries sullenly around his plate. Cameron is all too aware of the choreography. In two hours, the nurses will all be whispering about the big break-up—false for all the obvious reasons, but also because there’s nothing to break up. “What happened?”

“I have to go to Melbourne,” Chase says flatly. “There’s an issue with my dad’s will.”

“But I thought he cut you out of it,” Cameron frowns. She doesn’t mean to be insensitive with her bluntness. She only means to clarify; she had been shell-shocked, when he spat it out bluntly all those months ago, not at the specifics but at the mere concept of it. It’s the sort of thing you hear about, vague family gossip about a friend of a friend, but surely, Cameron had thought, it didn’t really happen. Surely people—mothers, fathers, great-aunts—were never really so cruel as to deliberately strike someone out with their last act in this world, not for no good reason. Chase spears a fry, and does not eat it.

“He did,” he says heavily. “Including the stuff he had no right to cut me out of. Can you do it?”

No, Cameron thinks. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it. I’d be a sobbing mess, not coming into work every day to flirt with a colleague and snipe at Foreman and save people’s lives. Not casually discussing it over lunch. But that isn’t what Chase is asking.

“Of course,” she says, “just leave me the key.”

*

She gets into the routine of it easily enough. It helps that she knows her way around Chase’s apartment already—though, of course, she knows the bedroom best. Cameron stops by every evening on her way home from work to air the place out, sort the mail, check there’s nothing spoiling in the refrigerator. Chase left at the last minute; there are still clothes in his laundry hamper, a towel on the bathroom floor, electronics still plugged in. When she turns on the TV out of idle interest, it is automatically tuned to a sports channel. Cameron laughs, and the way the sound rings out across the empty room makes her feel absurdly guilty.

It would be so easy to pry. She has the experience, after all—years of snooping around patients’ homes, always careful to put things back where she found them, and she’s far more familiar with Chase’s habits and floorplan than she is theirs—and, secretly, she has the desire. Without him here to distract her with his hands or mouth or terrible post-sex cooking, it is easier to admit her own curiosity to herself. It is easier to admit that she wants to know him beyond the scope of what he has already told her. But easier isn’t the same as easy. Cameron closes windows and throws out expired milk. She ignores the bedroom. She always leaves the key behind.

*

It isn’t that she misses him, at work. It’s simply lacking for a case—House is due to fly to Singapore the day after Chase is scheduled to return—and there’s scarcely anything to do. She has brief, cordial lunches with Foreman, spends the mornings doing clinic duty and the afternoons catching up on House’s permanently-backlogged charting. It is all very companionable; she has always liked Foreman well enough, save for the times he has given her reason to be annoyed, and without Chase to wind him up Foreman seems to return the sentiment. He only tries to broach the subject once.

“About you and Chase,” he starts, and Cameron’s pen leaves a dent on her chart.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. It’s the wrong answer: she should’ve said, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s what she means to say, but for some reason her mouth won’t form the words. Foreman sighs, and his eyebrows make a grand leap of frustration, but he just nods.

“Don’t bring me into it,” he warns, and this time Cameron doesn’t bother trying to correct him.

*

Melbourne is sixteen hours ahead of New Jersey. It is natural, Cameron thinks, to wonder what he might be doing. It is natural, given the circumstances, to wonder if he’s alright. It is not natural to wonder if he misses her, but she finds herself doing that anyway. His voicemail beeps with messages; the sound of the dialtone makes her so irritated that she has to fight the urge to delete them all at once.

*

“Thanks,” Chase says when he comes back to work, jetlagged and small-looking and yet, Cameron hopes, a little pleased to see her. “You didn’t have to clean up after me.”

She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even want to, but her hands were idle and his phone kept beeping and once, while she was intercepting a delivery he must’ve forgotten about, she heard a strange woman’s voice ask about him on the speakerphone, words garbled through the closed hallway door. In Cameron’s experience, it is easier to resist temptation if there is something to be tempted away from. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Did everything turn out alright?”

“More or less,” Chase shrugs. He leans close; he still smells a bit like stale plane air and, Cameron imagines, a certain kind of foreign-ness. “Come over tonight?” he asks in a hopeful undertone.

Cameron is sick of his apartment. She would rather not examine why. “Come to mine,” she says, decisive, and rises to greet Foreman.

[lexxiie]

WHEN THEIR PARTNER LOVES TO DANCE

Fandom: My hero academia Featuring: shigaraki, hawks, dabi, overhaul x fem reader

SHIGARAKI

He knows you love to dance ever since he met you, but, as you may imagine, that's not really his field of expertise. When you go to events where dancing is common, you usually stay sat. You do it because you want to, and you don't wish to leave him alone, still, he feels bad about it.

A week ago, he asked you to teach him. He said he'd like to dance at least a bit with you when necessary, which obviously had you jumping with joy.

That's what led you here. A week later, on your living room, attempting to learn the basics. This had been the funniest experience for the both of you, at this point you didn't even care if he learned or not, the dancing lessons where enough of a reward.

You laughed loud as he stumped on your foot for the third time, and he pretended to be angry. "Stop!" You yelled while pushing him away from you, however, his feet got caught with the rug and he fell over you. Both of your bodies hit the floor shortly after and minutes went by before you could stop laughing. "I'm done, I don't want to do this anymore." He said, now annoyed, but you could tell he was just embarrassed. "Does that mean you don't like practicing with me?" You asked, making the saddest face you could. He couldn't resist it. "I do! I like it, It's just that I'm really bad at this and-" You cut his desperate babbling off with a kiss. Needless to say, the dancing sessions went on for longer.

HAWKS

Oh Hawks loves dancing as well, and he's fairly decent at it, too. He actually first met you at a party to commemorate heroes. You were there because of a friend and he was one of the stars of the event.

He was talking to a couple of his friends when all of a sudden, he stopped listening to everything they were saying when the most beautiful person he'd ever seen crossed his eyes. You were dancing with your friend and you looked absolutely gorgeous, he couldn't remember the last time he had been so attracted to someone, but here you were.

He had to approach you, and he did. He introduced himself (which wasn't needed) "I saw you from afar, and I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't ask you to dance at least one song with me." He said this as he offered you his hand, however, you looked back at your friend who hadn't come here with anyone else. "Thank you, but I'm good here," you responded with a kind smile, but before the hero could say anything else, your friend kicked you subtly, but hard. "Ouch!" You exclaimed as you turned to her, her face begging you to go with him. "Fine, one song won't make any harm." You told the hero. His face lightened with pure joy, and you definitely did not dance just one song. If he wasn't in love with you before, he totally was by the time the party was over.

Taking this precedent into account, dancing with you brings him great memories, so he loves it as much as you do.

DABI

He's not a dancer. It's not that he's terrible at it, he can surprisingly fend for himself on that field, though he isn't great either. The thing here is that he feels a bit ridiculous when he dances, at least not in public. Unless he's having a big melodramatic moment.

In private, however... He's the kind of man who whines about everything, but he's never ever complained when you approach him to dance in the comfort of your home. He actually likes it that way, he loves having you in his arms, and he enjoys doing anything that you love. Even if he pretends he doesn't.

And he loves to pretend that he's annoyed when you dance, as you do it quite often. Just like now. Dancing all over the kitchen with a bowl full of pancakes batter on your hands. "You'll drop that." He says as he rolls his eyes at you. "Of course not! I know what I'm doing!" You respond with a big smile on your face. "Come on, don't be such a killjoy, you should join me." He looks at you like you just said the dumbest thing ever, which only encourages you to put the bowl down and force your boyfriend to dance with you. He shows resistance at first, but you win him over quite quickly. The frown he had at first, now replaced by a subtle smile. It's just so hard to say no to you.

OVERHAUL

I mean... Define dancer. He isn't great at a club, but he sure is a good dancing partner at a wedding. Slow dancing is more his thing.

He doesn't love it, but he doesn't hate it either. He feels indifferent towards dancing overall, but he does not feel indifferent towards you at all. He'll comply with whatever makes you happy.

Kai had a very busy week. Your birthday was coming and he really wanted to throw you a nice party for your closest friends to attend, the thing is, he struggles a bit to keep it simple, so what was meant to be a tiny reunion, turned into a somewhat big event. He just felt like you deserve everything he can give you.

It had been a lot of work, but he was more than happy to do it. Especially now that he had you in his arms, with a beautiful dress, and the dancing floor under your feet. "Thank you so much, Kai." You say to him before laying a kiss on his lips. "Happy birthday, love. Anything for you." He responds, as he pulls away and places a strand of hair behind your ear. He would've never imagined himself doing this for anyone else, he thinks as he turns you around. He must really love you, right?

MASTERLIST

[suigetsusunny]

Temporary Whispers Of The Heart ⊹₊⟡⋆ | Sosuke Aizen X Reader Chapter 7 | Use Your Heart

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Fuchsia petals twirled and twisted in the breeze of spring, detaching from the sakura trees that lay outside the Karakura district office. A delightful marker of spring, or for the working, a more… unfavourable signal to begin the working year.

The elevator door chimes gleefully, hardly serving to uplift your fallen spirits as your heels slam against the floors of the hallway to the office. Your hand clasps around the office door’s handle, swinging it with force towards you as you proceed to barge in.

Who does she think she is? Claiming she’s your sister after so long. Sure, she might be wanting to fix things with you, but she's failing. Miserably. So hard that her good for nothing boyfriend has to step in and-

Caught up in your thoughts, you abruptly bump into a firm surface, wincing as a man’s chest clothed with fashion at prices you could only dream of greets your nose. Immediately reaching to cover your squashed nose, your eyes trail up to meet the stare of a stern yet charmed brunette.

“I see someone’s quite thrilled to see me.” Sosuke gives an amused smirk, and you give an unamused frown in return.

“Don’t humour me-”

You suddenly perceive the cut on his neck left by that night beginning to bleed once more, your eyebrows creasing in worry. The silver star hair clip you had on must have scraped against his neck when you bumped into him…

“It is only a scratch, you can halt your perturbed gaze. I won’t die.” A hint of softness flashes across Aizen’s usual stoic gaze, almost mocking to your worried demeanour. You scrunch up your nose in response to his assumption of your concern, scowling. “I don’t care whether you live or die. You can’t walk around the office with that. The new interns are arriving today. I had hoped you held some sort of shame and would have tried to not look like a monster…”

“Ah, but that is where you fail… And even if I wished to cover my terrifying gash that you presume will petrify the new interns, I cannot.” Almost humorously, Aizen lifts his cuffed wrists, giving them a slight shake to enunciate their jingles while grinning at you, like a child giddily bringing a dead bird to his mother in pride. You scoff, shaking your head in amusement and bewilderment. 

“Chained up again? My poor birdy. Did Icarus fly too close to the sun again?” You snicker, slightly groaning while meticulously observing the bleeding gash on his neck with your index. Considering his tightly bounded wrists, it was your responsibility to clean this up. You already had to host a special threat in the office to farm his spiritual energy, if that didn’t scare away the new employee’s, his bloodthirsty appearance definitely would.

“I prefer to compare myself to Lucifer, actually. A fallen angel. Considering my beauty and brawn, wouldn’t you agree?”

Rolling your eyes, you take his wrist and lead him to the office kitchen, his obedience and silence surprising you. A benign chuckle simply emitted from his slightly parted grin as you moistened your handkerchief under the sink. 

“Where did this gash come from, anyway?” You grumble as you tenderly caress the enigma’s adams apple with a damp cloth, dabbing the blood trickled unto his pale neck. 

“It’s of no importance. Worry about yourself.” Aizen responds by tucking a strand of loose hair from your neat bun behind your ear intimately, and you swat it away immediately.

“I don’t worry about you. I’m simply irritated at this unfortunate turn of events and the fact I have to mother you. Can you really not do this yourself?”

“Does it look like I can? You’re less smarter than you look, Miss Y/N.” Aizen raises a hazel eyebrow, his leer unentertained.  “Don’t call me by my first name.”

“Why? Does it make you hot and bothered?” “Oh absolutely, my panties immediately soaked at just the sound of your voice. A man of nothing but filth just called me by my common name. Is that what you want to hear?”

Aizen laughs contentedly in response, his head lightly rolling forward causing his cocoa locks to fall gracefully around his face, chuckling at your snappy attitude while his gaze transfixes on you. You could feel his hazel eyes burning through your face as you clean up his gash and search for a bandaid in the kitchen drawers. As you fail to find one, in desperation, you decide to fish around your own pockets for one, exhaling in relief as you feel one brush against your fingers. 

Sosuke’s eyebrow hooks upward, a complacent yet stunned look on his face as he discerns the bandaid you had decided to force onto him. You too, stare at the medical aid held between your fingers in disbelief, sighing sharply. No choice, I guess.

Aizen lets out a gruff exhale as you softly spread the baby pink hello kitty bandaid on his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows in humiliation. “May I be bold to suggest that your sense of style is too… cute for an office setting?” 

“I don’t have anything else. It’s my last resort.” You huff, looking into his eyes despondently. 

“Alright then. I will appreciate your thoughtful gift.”  

You purse your lips and feel a slight tinge of heat on your face as you watch his lips curve into a mischievous grin. A grin of satisfaction too, as you could tell he knew how your heart fluttered at his sight and decided to torture you with it. As you two lost your sanity locked in each other's eyes, the line drawing hate and love blurring further, a knock at the door snapped you both out of your daze. Slamming your handkerchief against his chest, you strut off before he could notice your blush and tease you further. Yet the feeling of a fervent gaze stabbing into your backside did not disappear as you left him alone in the kitchen. 

“Act as normal as you can, please.”

Another three melodious knocks done with rhythm on the door signalled the arrival of your General Commander, alongside the chatter of many new and jubilated employees. You smoothed out your black pencil skirt and the slight creases on your ironed white button up, your thin and tight, knitted dark grey sweater showing off your form in a sleek and stylish way. 

Shunsui gives a slight smile after you slide open the door, a strand of dark curled hair resting gracefully on his face as he gives you an approving nod.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. I take it that I can entrust these in your care now?” You nod adamantly, grinning and displaying the most exultant form of yourself that you could manage at 9 in the morning. 

“Of course, please follow me.” Your cheerful voice reverberates throughout the building, as you notice a couple familiar faces present in the new intern intake. Karin, Ururu, Jinta… Most were high school students looking for work experience for a few weeks or Academy students looking for work in the human world. Regardless, you put on the most professional attitude you could whilst also ensuring they felt welcome and accepted. 

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As you guide the interns through the office, assigning their duties and detailing where to find everything and who to look for help, you discern Sosuke leave his office. Most interns froze in bewilderment, albeit they had been informed of your humble guest, it must still be jarring to witness his existence in person.

“If you require help, my office is located at the back left. Ah, and this is… Sosuke Aizen. He is serving his sentence here as the Muken has been damaged so we can farm his spiritual energy. Don’t… worry about him. He is tightly bound and knows not to do any harm.” 

You flash the most exuberant and reassuring smile you can as you walk up to the smug brunette, taking his hands in yours and holding them up to jingle his tightly bound wrists in a similar fashion to how he did before to assure your new interns.

“Good morning.” Aizen gives a cunning yet honeyed smile at the new students, amusedly watching a tinge of heat rush to your cheeks. His gentle morning voice you could never get sick of, no matter how hard you begged your mind to loathe it. Swallowing and nodding anxiously, the interns return collegiate nods before being promptly dismissed by you to begin their new assignments. 

“I feel like a pet.” He abruptly states, grousing as he returns the same fervent stares back to the students eyeing him. “Thanks for being… Somewhat normal.” You scoff at him, looking up to see his eyes already locked on you through the strand of cocoa hair splayed on his face. 

“Why? Do you find me abnormal? Unique, even?” Sosuke jests, grinning deviously as he crossed his arms over his chest and over the expensive, dark navy blue blazer and white button up he had on. “No, I find you fake. Every interaction we have ever had was fake.” You rebut, dragging your eyes away from admiring his sharp and sleek jawline crossed with his sepia locks stylishly slicked back. He unfortunately looked like a Hollywood star even with all those seals bound to him and his murderous eyepatch enunciating his monster-like appearance. “And who told you that?” 

“Quite literally everything you do. You only care about yourself.” You tsk, rolling your eyes slightly as you turn away. “Self proclaimed God.”

“Isn’t it simplistic to assert that a God cannot care? If anything, compassion is the mere foundation of becoming one. The purity of being able to love and nurture.” He states back, ignited blood reigning his veins as he gazes at you.

“You really assume I haven’t loved and cared before?”

Perplexed by his metaphors, you shake your head and dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “Let's not get into it.” 

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As you lean against the wall of your office, eyeing Aizen like a hawk attempting to pour himself a cup of tea in the kitchen outside, a buzz arising from his soul pager in his office goes off. You swiftly turn to grab the phone off of his oak desk, staring at the message in your grip.

EMERGENCY STABILISE THREAT WITH REIATSU: TAKESHITA RD. 108 092 NOVICE REAPERS INJURED: 4 YOU ARE THE CLOSEST IN THE AREA GO ALONE

DO NOT TRY ANYTHING ELSE OR SERIOUS PERSECUTION WILL FOLLOW

You look to your own soul pager, only to find that you had not been given the same message. What…?

Even after refreshing the screen, you hadn’t received it. You had only been given a measly message, instructing you to take care of the interns queries in the office whilst he was gone. There’s no way they’re trusting HIM to take this job alone. Without me. You couldn’t trust him to do this. Forget you, how could anyone trust him to do this job? How could the Shinigamis at the accident site trust him? They would surely attack him in fear. And you wouldn’t blame them.

Perhaps this message was given to the wrong device. Even if all they required was spiritual pressure to immobilise the threat before help arrived… You wouldn’t have minded draining yours. If it meant for that thing to not induce any potential harm. Whatever it was, you knew in your heart to not let him, a special threat, venture out alone into the night freely. Regardless of all of his new seals.

“I’ll be back, I have to handle something… Take care of the office while I’m gone.”

Aizen gives you an unamused look, nodding and simply humming in response before returning to toss an empty sugar sachet in the bin.

Snatching your leather coat off of a hanger by the door and your Zanpakuto, you leave your Gigai and emerge as a new woman, draped in your signature shihakusho. 

Staring at the buzzing screen, you perceive that this emergency was gathering some attention as more Shinigami’s were falling suit to whatever hollow they were facing. You promptly unsheathe your Zanpakuto, utilising flash step to arrive at your destination faster. 

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The gaze of the evening stars greets you as you perceive the eerily deserted street, a couple Soul Reapers lying on the ground, injured. A figure’s chains dragged disturbingly across the asphalt of the empty avenue, before its molten eyes fixate on you. 

Covered by the shadow of the night, you could not discern what sort of hollow the enemy was nor the origins of it. The only characteristic you register is the daunting black marks stained on its back and face.

A creature from Hell.

Your eyes widen and you immediately brought forth your Zanpakuto, its blade glimmering against the moonlight. With a precise flick of your blade, a crescent of reiatsu slices through the air, aimed at its behind facing you. The hollow promptly blocks you with a raise of its arm, the force pushing it back yet leaving it hardly scathed. You decide to stop holding back, releasing your spiritual pressure tenfold as you wait for others to handle the situation. Your mission wasn’t to overexert yourself yet, the nature of the monster sent familiar chills down your spine.

It retaliates, chains snapping forward like vipers hunting for desperate prey. You twist your body, narrowly avoiding the snakes as one whips past your face, slicing through the fabric of your sleeve. You begin to slightly heave, your slowly depleting spiritual pressure and physical exertion starting to toll on your body. For a second, you shut your eyes to focus on suppressing the monster ahead of you.

The hollow snarls and takes the chance to attempt to latch onto your Zanpakuto with its chain. You barely register the movement when a sudden sword greets the chain as it was about to slam into your chest.

Looking to your left, your eyes broaden at the sight of Sosuke Aizen, still dressed in his office attire and defending you effortlessly even with both hands bound. In an instant, the monster retreated into the portal in which it came from as a result of Aizen’s crushing reiatsu compressing its insides. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You groan as you see him shoot daggers through his menacing leer. 

“What do you think you’re doing? You just ran off? I had to track your spiritual energy to try and find you.” Sosuke glares at you, spitting venom with his words. 

“Clearly I'm doing a mission.” The brunette rolls his eyes subtly, tsking at your incompetence. “With my Soul Pager? Are you aware that maybe your reiatsu capabilities exceed the demands of this situation?”

“I’m a Lieutenant. Don’t make me laugh.” You fire back, scoffing in amusement at his assumption of your abilities. “This job was forced onto me to do. Why did you take it?”

“I don't trust you? And anyways, I was not going to waste any time returning back. All you had to do was take care of the office for a little while.” You spew at him, grunting at his inability to understand your apprehension surrounding him.

“And what if something had happened to you? Had the thought not occurred to you that perhaps this was appointed for me and not you for a reason? You cannot exert your spiritual pressure with ease like mine without straining yourself.” He reprimands, an unfamiliar hint of concern present in his tone. “Mr. Aizen, I’m not a little girl. I don’t need you looking after me!” 

“Y/N. Sosuke.”

You both synchronise in turning to look behind you, your heart sinking as you perceive a cross Shunsui with both his hands in either pocket of his hakama glaring at you two.

“Come with me.”

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A slight berating followed by dissatisfied grumbles ensued from Shunsui, as you stand in front of your company building while your commander chastises you in front of Aizen. 

“I was disappointed to be informed by an intern that neither of you were anywhere to be found.”

The brunette parts his lips to speak, yet shuts them promptly and instead returns an unamused stare to the commander. Kyoraku momentarily looks towards him leaning candidly against the building, sighing. As much as he wishes to berate him, the technicality of the situation deemed him as fairly innocent. 

“There is a reason why he received the message and not you. If you were to stand there and suppress the hollow with your spiritual pressure, it would have drained you and taken much longer than it would’ve for him.” “But why did you send him alone?” You rebuke, unwilling to accept this outcome. You would receive whatever punishment you were ordered with pride yet, you just wished for a simple explanation to who in their right mind decided to instruct him to go alone. “It was presumptuous of me to trust him alone, I know. But you had your duties in the office to look after the interns. You are to only stick to whatever duties are assigned to you. Do you know how difficult it was to quickly get Matsumoto to cover for you?” You hang your head in shame, sighing as you fumble with your fingers. It was a foolish act from you, but could anybody blame you? Trusting the enigma was like walking over a vat of tar on a thin piece of string. 

“I can't just stroll in here whenever you mess up, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” You state in a low voice, slightly bowing in shame to the bearded man. Softening up, Shunsui couldn’t help but walk up to you, patting your shoulder comfortingly. Over the years, he had grown to warm up to you and to think of you almost as a daughter.

“Fine, you don’t trust him, I understand that. Which is why I’m letting you go this time.” Your gaze slowly trails upwards with glistening and appreciative eyes, the tightness in your chest slightly relieving itself as you manage to drag your eyes to his neck. 

“You don’t have to trust him, but trust me. Trust the devices I have implemented myself to weaken him.” The raven haired man places his pointer on your chin, making your solemn gaze finally meet his. “Can you do that for me?” 

You melt at his words, warming up to a father figure you had so desperately searched for your whole life treating you with such kindness. A father figure you had been robbed of so viciously and mercilessly in the past. His tenderness always healed something in your heart he had never broken.

You nod sincerely yet avidly, keen to not disappoint him again. He gives a final scruff of your hair, before leisurely strolling towards the sleek black limousine that had arrived at your building. Kyoraku chuckles before shaking his head, allowing himself to be guided by the Shinigami serving as his body guard opening the door to the vehicle.

Adjusting his hat, he gives one last remark before stepping into the expensive car. “Ah... You and Nanao. You’re both so similar.”

As you silently watch your commander drive off, a loud and obvious clearing of someone's throat snapped you from your daze. You turn pensively to face an oddly sincere Sosuke, his sour scan of your being sending cold chills down your spine. 

“I believe thanks are in order.” He sneers, jesting at you. You chuckle in response, defeatedly suspiring. “Thank you. And… I’m sorry.” You mumble the last part, trudging past him to reach the entrance of the building. However, you were yanked slightly back by a slender hand clasping around your wrist.

“Apology not accepted.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, confused at what he was getting at. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of his sepia irises glimmering, reflecting the moon ever so beautifully in their wake. 

“What?”

“I can tell you assume I think you are weak.”

You look away in shame, a slight tinge of bashfulness present in your demeanour. “I know you do. I constantly mess up, it can only be described as undignified and weak…”

“You aren’t weak. I’ve hardly been able to witness your new power but you’ve flourished into a strong woman. My words did not mean to undermine your strength. I apologise if I’ve done so.” You raise an eyebrow to his sudden altruism, it was strange yet… Not unwelcome. He takes a step closer towards you, leaning his face closer to yours, causing heat to pulsate throughout your body in response. “Remember, the soil that is rained on strengthens.” Looking up at him with tender and shimmering doe eyes, you softly laugh as you unclasp his hand around your wrist and step away bashfully. “Thank you. Someone’s feeling nice today, huh?”

“I’m simply stating facts.” He grins, a sense of satisfaction overwhelming him as your pupils dilate jovially and a smile was brought to your face once more by his own work. You strut off, looking back endearingly at him as your hair flowed graciously in the wind.        

“Shall we?”

˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Familiar strawberry blonde locks greet you two as you both emerge from the lift to the building, Rangiku’s booming voice calling out to you from across the hallway.

“Y/N! You silly girl!” Your best friend rushes up to you cheerfully, pinching your cheek teasingly as she envelops you in a loving hug. “Ugh, you don’t know how much these interns were pissing me off…” You look up at her, perplexed. “Really? They seemed quite shy and sweet in the morning...” Rangiku gives a slight wave of acknowledgement to Aizen before looping her arm in yours, facing you with crestfallen features. “Okay well, most are fine, it's just… Jinta and Ururu keep arguing with each other. It's truly such a bother trying to separate them. Oh, and did you see Kurosaki’s sister?” You nod, you did notice the young Shinigami’s sister join your branch. “Yeah… It was a pleasure to see a familiar face after so long.” “She looks just like him… Just with black hair. It's crazy, isn't it?” 

Ah, and speak of the devil, as the very young and sweet girl you were chatting about had walked up to you three. “I’ve finished my assignment and colour coded every training schedule for you, Miss Shihoin.” She gleams at you, and you raise an eyebrow, impressed as you take the file in your hands and return a grateful beam.

“Oh wow, really? Thanks so much…” 

“And Mr… Aizen… I ordered your … New Zanpakuto sheath…” Karin apprehensively states, bowing slightly to Sosuke as she hands him a picture of the new sleek black leather sheath she had bought. The enigma slightly grins in amusement, a heartfelt smile was the last of what you had expected his reaction to be.

“I appreciate your efforts. And, no need to act so reserved, I won’t bite. At least, I’ll try not to.” He beams jestingly, and you slap his shoulder promptly. “Shush! Don’t scare her away.” He sneers, chuckling as he slid his hands back into his pant pockets. “I’m simply humouring you, don't fret.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. A/N

as always, comments and criticisms are always appreciated !! :p

happy reading!

- sumi <3 @noirfan12 @hon3ysun @muzansfangs

[st0rmyskies]

J'adore all the drama this is causing in the shower fandom.

Time

Who's Dark? He doesn't think about Dark. He's absolutely, resolutely NOT thinking about Dark the first time he's scrubbing his legs fucking raw until there are little hairs so entwined in the webbing of that washcloth that when he's folding it later that week he decides just to throw it out instead.

After questionably-moral hook ups, as an act of self-flagellation that water is so hot he walks out with skin pink as a cooked shrimp.

Wind

Is the reason Twilight now knows what catfishing is.

Warriors

Bold of you to assume Wars didn't just go out Ready that night he hooked up with Tauro. Because if it wasn't Tauro, it was going to be Time getting annoyed later that night.

I'm going to be sitting at the Thanksgiving table this afternoon and we'll be saying Grace or whatever and I KNOW the words 'emergency enema kit' are going to be bouncing around in my head.

Twilight

Debating whether Wind can be conned into giving up the Grindr profile he made using Twi's pics. It's not just feet pics, either.

Debating whether he really actually wants the handle KnockinBoots69xo.

And leST WE FoRGET

Dark

Y'know the rest of his apartment is disgusting and he generally lives a slovenly lifestyle. I had always pictured that his tiny apartment bathroom was probably narsty af with mildew-stained grout and just a clear shower liner hanging, not even a real shower curtain. He's got a toilet seat but the lid was broken off long ago.

However.

Dark does care about his appearance, in some ways. One doesn't invest so much coin in tattoos if they don't truly give a shit about how they look, imo. Plus this man spent time in prison, where privacy in the shower isn't a thing in most cases.

So now I wonder if his shower is his oasis. If he's the one who showers twice a day, once in the morning to wake up and get his hair fixed and his legs washed, then in the evening he draws a bath to soak and relax and tend to the hardwood flooring. Maybe lights a candle.

You know this bitch uses the alcohol-themed body wash and shampoo products. Yes, he conditions.

Fun fact: There's no mirror above his sink. There are no mirrors anywhere in Dark's apartment, at all.

SETTING: HSH/LMTCOY VERSE.

CIRCUMSTANCES: NOT IN CRISIS/BASELINE.

QUESTION: WHAT ARE THEIR PERSONAL HYGIENE PRACTICES? AND WHICH PAIR OF LINKS HAVE THE MOST INCONGRUENT STANDARDS.

Have you truly prepared yourself for these answers, friend?

The general rule is that each of the boys has the sense to shower after a good workout or getting gross in some other way, no matter what their daily hygiene routine is otherwise. Under the cut because I had a TON to say about this apparently. I never even knew.

Time - He's a morning shower guy. He needs it to wake up and, since he likes to run or work out in the mornings, it makes for efficient timing. Plus let's be real, he's not getting the volume in those bangs unless he applies it in the morning, every morning. He prefers to be clean-shaven, making that therefore a daily duty. He used to use a combination shampoo and conditioner before Warriors got to him, and even if his hair is softer now he sure as hell isn't going to admit that to anyone. If he has a particularly eventful day at work, he'll have an evening shower as soon as he gets home, too--very hot and very, very thorough, followed by an aspirin nightcap.

Twilight - He's such a night-showerer. I attribute it to being raised on a farm. He gets up, he gets shit done, in fact he's getting shit done the whole day long so that by the time he's through Twi is ready for a hearty meal, some time to shoot the shit with his friends, and a hot shower before bed. He's not too fussed about making sure his stubble is shaved down every day, although for an event or something he's sure to be clean-shaven. Doesn't believe in conditioner. Twi's toxic trait is using the same towel for a week or more.

Wild - Showers occur daily, although at random times of the day. Maybe it's right after breakfast. Maybe he has to prep something for dinner, so he hops in sometime in the afternoon. Shaving occurs when he feels like it, although his facial fuzz is pretty sparse so it never matters much. His real barrier to entry is the length of his hair and the time it takes to dry it. Thus, hair washing is a once- to twice-weekly event at most. You know he uses Mane n' Tail shampoo, and he swears by conditioner, mainly because it helps him comb through all the tangles. He doesn't dry his hair, just plops it on top of his head in a towel or braids it damp to keep it out of his way. You always know it was a wash day because there's a six to eight-inch ring of dampness outside of the shower curtain. Hope none of the other boys were keeping a dry towel in there for any reason.

Champion - Showers after every work-out, so at least once but often twice a day, morning and afternoon. His showers are thorough but short: quick shave once a day every day, shampoo, soap up, rinse all at once. He's in an out of the shower in six minutes flat. He washes his hair EVERY time and towels it dry (RIP those split ends). Fastidious but utilitarian, Champion isn't one for conditioner or aftershave. He also didn't start using antiperspirant until he was in the Guard and saw that everyone else used it.

Warriors - There are two types of showers for this man. The first is the daily affair, usually taken as soon as he wakes up. He starts by warming the water while brushing his teeth (recharging electric toothbrush only) and inspecting his brows, then washing his face with a gentle cleanser containing salicylic acid (the only boy on the list so far who does), followed by a thorough shampoo and conditioning (this is the longest part of the routine). While the conditioner sets he takes a moment to inspect his nails and attend to any cuticle mishaps, then there's a rich lathering of shaving foam applied to his face, his underarms, maybe his legs if he needs it that day. (Before you ask: the hardwood floors get addressed by a trusted professional, licensed and bonded). He has a natural sponge for washing and exfoliation. Once all that's done, he has specific microfiber twist-towels for his hair (I hc he has natural waves or loose curls) and his towels are white and washed in unscented detergent. The rest of his routine has to be attended to in his room; he's already been in the bathroom well over the prescribed 20 minutes per shower, according to Legend. His other type of shower is the Spa Night affair, and that's more of a bath situation.

Sky - Ohhh Sky darling. I love him so, and his hygiene practices are adequate, but somewhat questionable in my book. He's a morning showerer, definitely needs that wake-up rinse, and the bathroom is his stop immediately after chugging orange juice at the fridge each morning. (Yes, right out of the carton. Yes, his name's on it.) He's an electric razor guy because it's quick. He always gets in the shower before the water is warm enough because he's impatient in the mornings, and he subsequently gets burned when it gets too hot and has to stand outside the spray doing that quick-reach-for-the-handles-and-shrink-back thing until it's cool enough to resume. My biggest hangup is that he uses a combination shampoo-conditioner-body wash product. Because it's quick. His hair is fluffy because it's probably dry as shit. The other thing about Sky is that he never EVER remembers to lock the bathroom door, so whenever he's in the shower it's a free-for-all if anyone else wants to come in and brush their teeth or whatever.

Legend - In the beginning, when he was living with Hyrule in that first apartment, Legend wasn't a daily showerer. He was pretty fucking depressed, so it ended up being every third or fourth day, at least until he came around to realizing "Hey, this kills some time." He's another random-time-of-day showerer, and sometimes it's an overnight affair if he's out working late with Ravio (like, 2-4am). He'll use cheap drugstore shampoo and body wash, and on occasion will shamelessly use some of War's expensive bullshit conditioner for a special occasion. One of the few boys to use a hair dryer regularly. His toxic trait is putting his hat back on before his hair is completely dry, making the hair at the top of his head kind of stringy and limp most times.

Hyrule - Listen. Med school makes you a very versatile showerer. Hyrule has literally no preference for taking a morning or an evening shower anymore. Whenever he's awake enough and has enough time to spare is when he does it. He functions best with nighttime showers because it gives him ample time in the mornings to have his coffee and a slow wake-up. Rulie's hair is naturally curly, so his haircare routine is different from most. He actually doesn't use shampoo at all. He conditions every day, sometimes two rounds if he makes his little scalp scrub with brown sugar. He does a quick blind shower-shave and prefers a loofah. His toxic trait used to be towel-drying his hair until Warriors made him swear to never do it again. Now he wisely lets it air dry.

Four - Mister Nevernude showers before dinner since his work can get him fairly messy. At the very least, soldering leaves an awful smell in your hair. He's another user of cheap drugstore shampoo, he's not fond of conditioner, and is a bar-of-soap kind of guy. He used to take lightning-fast showers in the beginning until he really settled in to the house, and now he's in there for a more reasonable 10 minutes or so. He goes in fully clothed, he comes out fully clothed. Like Twilight, he unfortunately uses the same towel all week. He only has one, really, and just throws it in the laundry together with the rest of his clothing.

Wind - He is, unfortunately, not a daily showerer. He might go every other or even every third day, depending. That's only if he's shut in his room for a day or three, though. There's enough Axe body spray to make up for those days, at least in his mind. If he's going out, he has the sense to wash. He prefers coconut-scented products, uses a combination shampoo/conditioner product, and rarely remembers to replenish his body wash at the store so commonly chooses from some of his roommate's. He doesn't shave religiously but his facial fuzz is still fine and blonde, so it's not the worst.

[bifuriouswaterbender]

Something I don't think we talk about enough related to kids are some of the reasons their spaces tend to be messy. And thinking back to my own childhood, I think a big part of it is that most kids don't get a say in their own organization systems. Parents will design a space that makes sense to them and dictate where things should go and what being clean and organized looks like, regardless of whether it makes sense.