#sorry i can't get my thoughts into sentences that make sense all this week

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

they just didn't have to write him as "a great philanthropist"; "a generous benefactor of the empire bay planetarium"; "frequent officer of the empire bay press guild"; "a frequent target of political slander and false arrest because of generosity towards the press"

and at the same time write him as the first of the others to organize drug trafficking; a man who tried to kill all his competitors; "a shady bastard, even for guys in this business"; "ruthless modernizer"; a man who secretly views his close friend as a liability; "the man who killed his own boss" to take his place

"few will moan moretti's passing" from the lost heaven's newspapers and there's nothing like that in the cut-out news reports about carlo's death

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru Gojo was more than ready to propose to you. For you to be his pretty little wife. For you to take his last name. To see you walk down the aisle in a white dress. He has spent weeks picking out a ring for you. Weeks finding the perfect place to propose. Weeks just for this moment. He knows you'll say yes.

Today was the day he would propose. He had everything all set up and ready. The ring box is in his pocket. He just needs to come home to you and get you ready for the date. He had long made a promise to himself. He'll make you happy because you are the world to him.

He then felt a vibration in his pocket from his phone, immediately snapping him out of his thoughts. He opened his phone to see that Shoko had called him. He accepted the call and was about to ask Shoko what she needed before she interrupted him.

"Satoru."

Satoru immediately freezes. Shoko had never called him by his first name. It was always Gojo.

"Come to my office," was the only thing Shoko said before ending the call. Her voice was shaking.

Dread filled Satoru's body. A chill was sent down his spine. Something was wrong, so he immediately teleported to Shoko's office. He was greeted with the sight of Shoko, his students, and you. The students' eyes red from crying. Shoko is unable to look him in the eyes. You covered in blood. Your curse energy completely diminished. Your lifeless body is on the table.

Oh. Oh.

"I'm sorry, sensei! It's all my fault!" Yuji apologies as he cries.

"She saved us." Nobara whispered as she continued to wipe her endless tears.

"We let our guard down." Megumi looks down. He was holding in his pain. "It's my fault. I was careless. They were wrong about–"

Satoru doesn't register the rest of Megumi's word. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurring. A void in replacement of his heart. The ring in his pocket felt a lot heavier. He stares at your body before closing his eyes. He then turned toward his students with a smile.

"Hey, hey! It's alright, guys. It's not your fault. It was an accident! Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault at all. How about you guys take the next few days to relax! I'm sure this was very traumatic for you to lose a teacher in front of your eyes!"

"Gojo–" Megumi started, but he was pushed out the door with his friends before he could utter another word.

"Here, take my card and buy some stuff to help you take your mind off this, yeah? You guys need rest!" Satoru says as he closes the door. He's glad that he has his blindfold on so the students couldn't see the grief and pain in his eyes. He waited until he could no longer sense their curse energy before turning around towards you and Shoko.

"Shoko. Can you leave too? Just for a bit?" He asked. No. He pleaded. His voice was no higher than a whisper. He can't cry yet. Not in front of anyone but you. He's the strongest.

Shoko nodded and walked towards the door. "I'm sorry, Satoru. I tried to save her. I know today was suppose–" Shoko stopped before she finished the sentence. She bit the bottom of her lips before apologizing once more and then left.

Now, Satoru was left alone in the room with your lifeless body. He took off his blindfold and walked up to you. He held your once warm hand in his. He caressed your cheek as the tears that he was holding back finally fall down his face. He was going to propose to you today. You were supposed to be his wife. You were supposed to be with him until the day he died. But now... he would no longer see you. Your smile. Your laugh. You would no longer be smiling at him. In his arms. In his embrace. He wouldn't get to see your beautiful eyes open. Your voice. He wouldn't be able to hear your love for him. He won't be able to hear your "I love you, Satoru." You would no longer call his name. Oh, how he loved his name coming from your lips. It was supposed to be one of his happiest days. If he could only go back to yesterday. Where you were still in his arms, the two of you whispering your love to one another. Kisses being exchanged. Where you were still warm and alive. Where he can still stretch out his hand and reach you.

Fate loves taunting him with his loved ones. It loves to ruin him. To tear him apart. To rip his heart out and shred it to pieces because he's the strongest. So he'll always fail to protect the ones he loves. Fate is laughing at him because he is a joke. Fate is celebrating his grief. He has losted and fate has won again.

He doesn't know how much time has passed. Him next to your lifeless body, praying that you would just wake up. He wants to join you. Join you in the afterlife. To see you. To be with you. But he can't. He knows you'll never forgive him if he did. He still has his students to look after. A world to save. A revenge to sought after. He wiped his tears away because you would hate seeing him cry. He kissed you gently for the last time and whispered his eternal love towards you and a "I'll see you soon."

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. Your ring. He slipped it onto your ring finger and asked– "Will you marry me?"

A yes forever unspoken.

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 7

pairing:max Verstappen x single mom!reader x logan sargeant {masterlist}{prev} {next} warnings: cursing, minimally proofread Summary: you can start a family who will always show you love, you don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own word count: 4.7k auth.note: this was supposed to have smut in it but the smut gods have abandoned me spotify: i made a playlist

He was watching her.

She swallowed anxiously as she poured water from the kettle into the mugs. Of course he was watching her. He hadn't taken his eyes off her since she'd opened the apartment door. And of course she was making tea, because it was too late for coffee, and she also knew he hated coffee.

You're just a coworker.

Except he wasn't. He never had been, not since taking it upon himself to show her son cars at the factory. Not since he'd listened to her like no one had before. Not since…

He'd so seamlessly stepped into her and Kevin's lives, helping without being asked, and asking nothing in return.

Licking her lips as she watched the tea steep, she closed her eyes.

She could still taste him.

Gentle, tender, everything he never showed the world. As though she was precious and perfect. As though her lips were his place of worship. Her lips parted to gasp, surprised, and—

He shifted and her eyes snapped open. He was still there. In her kitchen, leaning against the counter just a few feet away. Her heart hammered in her chest as she picked up a mug after stirring in a little sugar and held it out to him.

"Y/n," he whispered.

"I'm not allowed to kiss you."

He'd said that weeks ago. Over a month ago. She sucked in a breath and finally turned to face him. "What changed?"

To his credit, he didn't play stupid. He took a sip of the tea and turned the mug in his hands. "Nothing changed."

"How can you say that?" Gripping her mug, she forced herself to take a sip.

"I'm sor—" Max cut himself off and pressed his lips together. "No, I'm not sorry. I've wanted to do that since… Since I met you."

Y/n took another sip of her tea. It wasn't sweet enough, but she couldn't bring herself to move to get some sugar. All she could do was stand there, holding her mug tightly and sip, staring at him, floored by the revelation that he'd wanted to kiss her for months. "You said you couldn't," she whispered.

"I still can't." His voice was strained, as though it hurt him to say it.

"Jesus christ," she groaned. "Max—"

"You're with Logan."

She froze, slowly raising her eyes to his. "Yeah," she whispered. "We're… Figuring it out as we go."

He winced slightly. "What's there to figure out?"

"God, Max." Why did he care? "Everything."

"Little mate worships him."

She shouldn’t say it. Don't say it don't say it don't say it don't— "He worships you, too."

Max shook his head. "He—"

"He called you Daddy. He's never even…" She reached up, angrily brushing the tears from her eyes before they could fall. "He's never cared about not having a father until recently. He asked months ago why he doesn't have one and I told him not everyone does and he was okay with that. Until…"

He stepped closer, taking her mug and setting it with his on the counter.

"I've fucked it all up," she gasped. "I've done the worst thing haven't I?"

"Y/n, no," he murmured.

"I'm supposed to protect him from heartache and pain. But I let him get close to you and you…" She couldn't finish the thought, much less the sentence. If there was one thing she was sure of in her messed up world it was that Max would never hurt Kevin. She wasn't stupid, she had put together the pieces and figured out that he'd been abused as a child, whether he saw it that way or not. But he had only ever treated her son with gentleness.

"I won't hurt him," Max whispered, and she sensed rather than saw the tremble in his fingers as he brushed her tears away. "I could never…"

"I know," she breathed.

"Don't…" His fingers lingered on her cheek, and the look in his eyes was almost desperate. "Don't lock me out, y/n."

"Have you met my son?" She sniffled. "He'd tear the door down for you."

He smiled sadly. "Would you let him?"

"Yeah," she said after a moment.

"You haven't fucked it all up," he murmured.

"I feel like I have." His fingers were still on her cheeks, even though for now there weren't any tears. But she didn't mind. They were warm and tender, almost lovingly caressing her. And she wondered what it said about her that in this moment she didn't care about anything or anyone else.

"Mama?"

Max's fingers stilled on her cheeks at the sound of Kevin's voice. Before either of them could move she heard the patter of Kevin's feet entering the kitchen.

"Mama, I—" Kevin gasped. "Mister Max?"

He pulled back and turned. "Hey, kleine maat… You alright?"

Kevin rubbed his eyes as he shuffled over. "Had a bad dream," he mumbled.

Y/n was half a second too late to scoop him up, and she looked on as Max lifted him up. Reaching over, she smoothed her son's curls. "You wanna talk about it, doodle bug?"

Kevin shook his head, settling comfortably against Max's shoulder. "'M'okay, mama," he promised.

Max shared a look with her over the top of Kevin's head. She could practically read his thoughts – he's alright – and nodded. He rubbed the boy's back in a soothing manner and she let herself enjoy the quiet warmth of the moment. Standing close as Max held her son, she listened to him gently murmur comforting words while she continued to smooth his hair, smiling fondly as she felt Kevin relax.

She felt a flicker of hesitation when Max offered to tuck him in, but didn't object. Leading him to the bedroom she shared with Kevin, she opened the bathroom door when he murmured he had to go, leaning in the doorway while Max set him down by the toilet.

No wonder Kevin looked to him as a father figure. He was so natural at it, so patient and kind.

Everything a father should be.

He carried him into the bedroom, squatting down next to the toddler bed to settle him and tuck him in. "Welterusten, kleine maat," he whispered.

Kevin blinked at him. "Is that goodnight?"

Max nodded. "Welterusten."

Y/n picked up her son's stuffed Snoopy and leaned to place it next to him while he practiced saying the word.

"Welterusten, Daddy. Goodnight, Mama," Kevin murmured, eyes already closing. "Love you."

"Goodnight, sweetie. Love you," she whispered, blinking back tears.

Max seemed frozen for a few seconds, but he finally straightened, dragging a hand over his face as he left the bedroom. She followed him out a moment later, pulling the door almost completely closed behind her. Pausing outside Ellie's door, she continued through the apartment to the kitchen when she heard no sign of her friend being awake.

He was leaning against the counter, his expression troubled.

"Max," she whispered.

"Where's his dad?"

Surprised by the question, she paused, rubbing her hands over her thighs before stepping over to pick up her tea. "I don't know."

"Does…" Max exhaled harshly. "Tell me it's none of my business."

How could she tell him that? "It's not, but… If Kevin's tearing the door down for you, you should know, I suppose."

"Does his dad know about him?"

"Only that he exists." She couldn't have this conversation standing. Motioning for him to follow her, she headed into the living room, sitting in the corner of the couch after he pushed away from the counter. "He wanted nothing to do with a baby."

Max made a face of discontent but said nothing as he sat next to her.

Holding her tea with both hands, she pulled her knees to her chest. "He wanted me to have an abortion. And I was going to… I was still on the outs with my mom, working two jobs to pay my bills, I couldn't afford a baby. But – and this is gonna sound so crazy and stupid."

"Tell me," he murmured.

Y/n sighed. "I had a dream about a baby and it—" her breath hitched. "—it felt so real and in the dream I felt whole, like some missing part of my soul had found its way back to me. I woke up craving that feeling, and well, I decided against the abortion."

Max was silent for a few seconds. When he spoke, she could see him fighting a smile. "You're right, that does sound crazy and stupid."

Groaning, she lowered her head. "I know. I know. But—"

"Making life decisions because of a dream is—"

"I know, Max, god you sound like my mom."

He paused, his smile fading. "I'm sorry. Go on."

"That was it. I chose to have the baby. Josh refused to have anything to do with me or him. I haven't seen him since I told him I wasn't having an abortion." She refused to go into how much that had hurt. How stupid she'd felt as the pregnancy progressed, things still strained with her mom, only Ellie to lean on for emotional support.

"He doesn't support him?"

"I refuse to ask him for anything. Kevin's better off without him in his life. Ellie's been more of a father than he ever could have." She finished her tea and set the mug aside. "He knows that he exists. I sent word through his sister, and I've had no contact with anyone in his family since. It's like they don't care. It hurt at first, but now I know it's better this way."

"I'm sorry, y/n."

She shook her head and tucked her chin on her knees. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

He sighed. And she felt him relax for the first time since he'd set foot in the apartment. The quiet stretched until it was almost uncomfortable, then he exhaled softly and reached for her hand.

"I don't mind him calling you daddy," she whispered as their fingers weaved together. It wasn't a conscious movement, and she felt as though her fingers already knew how to slot around his. Just as they did whenever her hand found Logan's.

Logan. God. How could she feel the same but different for two men?

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Maybe it's just a phase. Maybe he has some anxiety because all his new friends have dads."

"He…" Max cleared his throat and when she glanced at him she saw him staring at their hands. "He asked me in Montreal. Mentioned Laura."

Y/n smiled. First Kevin had been over the moon that a driver shared a name with him, then had fallen sort of in love with the older Kevin's daughter.

"He said you told him not everyone gets a mum and a dad. That he loves you."

She swallowed hard, nodding. If ever she was unsure of everything else in her life, she would always know her son loved her.

"Then he said—" Max sighed. "He asked if I thought Logan would be his dad. And you like mama."

She jerked her head up. "Did he ask you—"

"No. But I think he was going to."

What would you have said, how would you have answered him. And would you, Max? Would you be his dad? Would Logan? She closed her eyes, fighting the wave of questions she longed to ask, her feminist rage rising. He doesn't need a dad, damn it. He's perfectly fine without one. He's well rounded, intelligent, and empathetic. Having a 'dad' would ruin him—

"Y/n."

For fuck's sake. "Nothing changed," she reminded him. "You still can't."

"Doesn't mean I don't want to."

"I'm dating Logan."

"Is it serious?"

Yes. No. She didn't know. Logan didn't talk about that sort of thing. Still figuring it out. Still learning to show he cared. "Max, don't make me do this."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm not asking you to make a choice. I… We couldn't be open like you and Logan are."

It wasn't as though she and Logan were public. She was sure they'd been spotted together but it wasn't as though they were in each other's social media posts. "Because you'd get into trouble."

Groaning, he tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling. "You would lose your job."

Not him, though. Because he was the world champ. The dominant force to be reckoned with. Everyone on the Red Bull team would be fired before they let Max go. The realization annoyed her, even though she understood the reasoning. In the grand scheme of things she was nothing, a minor cog in the workings that could easily be replaced. But really what annoyed her the most was—

"I can't be the reason you lose your job, y/n."

Goddamn him and his nobleness. "Then… What are we even doing?" she sighed, moving to stand, trying to slip her hand free of his. But he held fast, pulling her back down.

"This," he whispered, raising his other hand to her cheek.

"But we—"

"Tell me no," he breathed as he dipped his head.

Her breath stuttered and she moved her hand to his neck, felt the muscles tense beneath her fingers. "Max…"

"I'll go. Just… Tell me you don't want this."

His forehead was against hers and his hand was sliding into her hair and she couldn't have told him no. Tilting her head, she let her lips brush over his, whining softly at the sensation. "I shouldn't," she whispered. And, god help her… "But I do."

He exhaled into the kiss, letting go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her. So gentle, so tender, she almost cried.

The last rational part of her brain screamed what about Logan and she pulled back slightly, eyes widening in panic. "We shouldn't."

He nodded. "I know," he murmured, pulling away.

"I want to," she blurted. "But…"

"Logan," he said flatly. "I thought you were figuring it out."

She ran a hand over her face, trying to ignore the tingling in her lips and the longing to slide back into his arms. "Would you want me to see him if I was figuring it out with you?"

He met her gaze and seemed to search her eyes for a long moment. "I would want you to do whatever it took to find happiness."

And she could tell that he meant it. She wished this was the Max that the world saw. The understanding, gentle Max that he rarely showed publicly. "Even if it was without you?"

His jaw twitched and he slowly drew in a breath. "Yes."

"I like him, Max. And I like you too."

Apparently, meeting on the track was now their thing. Max found he didn't mind so much this time, and decided he didn't want to investigate why. It wasn't as though he disliked Logan – in fact he liked him quite a bit. He just had let his own jealousy cloud his behavior. And now… Well, now things were different.

Logan fell into step with him and they chatted about the weather and y/n and Kevin and the burn was still there, eased a little by memories of silky lips and soft murmurs.

"How's your car looking?" Max asked, changing the subject as they walked along the track.

"I don't know, honestly. Do you ever just…" Logan sighed and shook his head, shoulders rounding. "Nevermind."

God. Max opened his mouth to tell him to go on, ask whatever it was that was on his mind – just get fucking on with it – but decided against it. Not everyone said what was on their mind. Not even him, some days, depending what was on his mind. He'd learned to bottle a lot of things, even if people thought he had no filter.

"I like him, Max. And I like you too."

How can you like us both?

He knew how. He just didn't know why. Why did she like him? He was the opposite of her precious American.

Logan cared. About everything. He cared too much. What people thought, whether he was doing well, how he carried himself. He was gentle and – damn it, caring – towards everyone, from a little boy with no father to people who didn't deserve a second thought.

Whereas he was… Gruff. An asshole on a bad day, a jerk on others. He did care, but he was selective. And he had learned at a young age that being gentle, being caring, led to being hurt and disappointment.

Gonna cry, boy?

"You have to stand up for yourself." The words came out of his mouth and hung in the air, too cold and brisk for the man walking next to him. "Sorry."

Logan drew in a breath. "Max—"

"Actually, no I'm not sorry." How many times had he said that in the past week? Twice. Which was twice too many. "It's true. You can't let them walk all over you. Because they'll do it until they find another pushover."

"They're not renewing my contract."

Well, fuck.

"They haven't said it. James is giving me the runaround every time I bring it up." Logan kept his eyes straight ahead and so did Max, not sure he wanted to see whatever emotions were showing. "But I know it's coming."

"He's such a spineless cunt," Max muttered.

Logan sputtered on a laugh. "Jesus," he chuckled nervously.

"He is." Max glanced at him. Swallowed down the little bit of bitterness. "You deserve a team that believes in you."

He nodded. "I know. But I don't have that."

"Don't give up hope," he said, the words surprising even him. "There are teams with vacant seats next year."

"I'm American. Hope's all I got," Logan said without enthusiasm.

Max chuckled softly. "Sometimes it's all you need."

As if he would know.

"I appreciate it, Max. Really."

"I can't give advice." He grimaced. "I suck at it. But I'm here if you need someone to talk to."

Even though he wasn't looking at him, he saw Logan's smile. "Thanks, mate."

Mate.

For once it didn't sound weird when Logan said it.

A win in Barcelona and, somehow, y/n found herself in the VIP section of a club with several drivers and a few girlfriends. No one seemed surprised or upset by her being there, and she laughed and drank a little, enjoying the downtime. Logan pulled her into a dance and she felt…

Happy.

Taking a break, she got another drink and found herself next to Max while he talked to Charles about someone she didn't know. A few moments later Charles was dragged away by his girlfriend and she was, relatively, alone with Max.

Max leaned close, speaking directly into her ear, loud enough to be heard above the music. "I can see why you like him!"

Her brow furrowed at his words. "You can?"

He nodded, leaning back to take a swig from his drink. "He's nice. Looks at you like you put the stars in the sky."

"Max," she murmured in surprise, her expression softening. She looked past him to where Logan was laughing with Lando and Oscar.

"See." Max chuckled next to her as Logan turned to look at her. "If he looked at me like that, I'd fall too."

A surprised laugh bubbled up. "Max! Are you drunk?"

He shook his head. "Not even close."

The coloured lights flashing around them pulsed faster and she watched him finish his drink. "Max–"

"He's in love with you." Max's face was serious.

She nodded, because suddenly she couldn't speak. If she did, she might tell him things she should never say. Nodding again, she looked down at her drink. Logan had all but said I love you to her. He'd said he loved being with her, loved hearing her voice, loved spending time with Kevin, but hadn't said he loved her.

"We have that in common," Max said, and she barely caught the words, his voice was so low.

Jerking her head up, she blinked. "What–"

"Hey babe."

A long arm snaked around her and she was pulled back against Logan's chest. Confused to see Max grinning, she wondered if he was drunk, because he usually looked annoyed whenever Logan was around. Well, not as much this past week as he had before, but…

Logan bent down, lips brushing her ear. "Having fun?"

She nodded, unconsciously stroking the arm around her as she sipped her drink. "It's a little noisy," she said loudly. "But fun."

He squeezed his arm around her. "Let me know when you're ready to go?"

She patted his arm and nodded again, smiling as he slipped away to go talk to Oscar.

Max tipped his head thoughtfully. "You're shit at lying."

"No I'm not?" She frowned at that. "I'm not lying."

"You're having fun?" he asked, arching his eyebrow.

She delayed answering by taking a sip of his drink.

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "You'd rather be at the hotel, wouldn't you?"

She made a face. "Yes. But—"

He grabbed her hand and tugged her along behind him, stopping to speak to Logan. They were right under a speaker so she couldn't hear what he said, but she saw Logan's concern as he nodded. Confused when he leaned to press a kiss to her cheek, she opened her mouth to say she was fine, but no one seemed to hear her above the thudding music. Logan didn't seem bothered by Max holding her hand and she remembered that she'd talked to him about it, that he was weirdly okay with her exploring her options as he'd put it—

Logan's lips moved to her ear. "I'll see you later, babe."

"Max what are you doing?" she asked a few moments later when he guided her out a side door of the club. Despite the heat outside it felt cooler than the club and she breathed in a lungful of fresh air.

"Taking you to the hotel," he answered simply.

She blinked as a car turned down the side street – alley? she wasn't sure what to call it – and stopped in front of them. Turning to him, she pinched her brows together. "You're supposed to be celebrating your win."

Max shrugged. "I can celebrate anytime."

With that, he opened the back door of the car and motioned for her to climb in. And she couldn't argue. Well, she could but it would be pointless. Arguing with Max was much like arguing with Kevin. It would lead nowhere except to a headache, she was sure. Settling in the backseat, she opened her handbag to get her phone, checking to make sure Ellie hadn't messaged her with an emergency.

"Je bent mooi," Max murmured once the car was in motion.

She could barely see him but she looked at him anyway, watching the passing lights flicker across his face. "Thank you," she whispered, remembering what the words meant.

You're beautiful. Not you look beautiful, that dress looks great on you. You're beautiful. She wondered if he understood the difference and thought that he might when his hand found hers.

It had been just over a week and it was still so new, so unexpected, the secret looks and touches. The stolen kiss that morning, the quick hug in the post-race confusion. All weekend she'd kept waiting for someone to notice, to say something, but no one had.

"When's your birthday?" she asked suddenly.

"End of September… Why?"

His thumb was tracing the back of her hand, making it hard to concentrate on her thoughts. "That's… Right after Singapore right?"

Max hummed. "Yeah I think a week after?"

"Well what are you doing to celebrate?" she asked, shifting so she was facing towards him.

He chuckled, and in the flickering lights she saw him shaking his head. "I don't celebrate birthdays."

"Max…"

"Y/n…" he mocked.

"You have to celebrate," she sighed.

"Uh, no, I don't have to."

"Didn't you love birthday parties as a kid?" she asked as the car stopped. Glancing out, she realized they were parked behind the hotel. She kept forgetting that Max could do things like that.

He thanked the driver and climbed out, turning back to help her out. "I didn't celebrate them much as a kid," he finally said.

"Oh," she said softly.

Max groaned, guiding her through the door, nodding to the hotel security. "Don't."

"I didn't—"

"You're not throwing me a birthday party," he insisted with a shudder.

"But—"

"It's just another day."

She scrunched up her face as he guided her onto the elevator. "If you'd let me speak—"

"No, because if I do it'll end with me wearing a stupid pointy hat and you blowing confetti in my face," he muttered.

Y/n huffed. "I wouldn't blow confetti."

He turned to look at her.

"I wouldn't!" she insisted. "I'd blow noisemakers—"

"No."

"You really don't want to celebrate? Cake? Friends? A few presents?"

"I don't like cake, if I want to see friends I do, and if I want anything I buy it." He tipped his head. "I don't need a party for any of that."

"It doesn't have to be a party," she persisted as the elevator stopped.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," he said, glancing left and right before steering her towards her room. "But I don't see any reasons to celebrate."

"It's a special day, Max."

"You're not going to let this go are you?" he sighed as they stopped at her door.

She shook her head, opening her handbag to get her keycard. "Nope."

Max rolled his eyes and took the card, unlocking the door for her and following her inside. "Why is it so important to you?"

Slipping off her heels, she pushed them next to her suitcase. "It's a time to celebrate… To reflect and appreciate what you've been given."

Leaning against the dresser, he set the keycard down and folded his arms. "You don't think they're childish and unimportant?"

She looked up from gathering her pajamas to change into. Frowning, she shook her head. "That's your father speaking, isn't it?"

His eyes shuttered and his stance grew tense. "I'm not…"

"Is he why you didn't celebrate?" she whispered.

"My mom tried," he said after a moment of tense silence. "She'd make a cake or get me a little something. But…"

He pushed away from the dresser and walked across the room. She sat back on her heels, watching him pace before he stopped at the window. Heart breaking for the little boy inside him, she pushed to her feet and walked over, tentatively sliding her hand over his.

"We didn't celebrate. Even when I won." His voice was hoarse, as though it hurt him to say the words.

"Oh, Max," she sighed. She hesitated, still not used to this sort of closeness, and finally leaned her head against his arm.

He let out a shuddering sigh and she realized he wasn't used to it, either. Slipping his hand free, he wrapped his arm around her slowly and cautiously, as though afraid she was going to push him away.

"Can I throw you a small party?" she asked after a moment. "With just a few people who care about you?"

Groaning, he pressed his lips into her hair. "If you must."

"Who would you want to invite?"

He snorted. "You and Kevin." Tucking his chin on the top of her head, he wrapped his other arm around her. "You can invite Logan, too."

Surprised, she leaned back, heart skipping several beats. "Logan?"

"He's special to you and Kevin. You and Kevin are special to me." He paused, eyes meeting hers. "So he's special to me too, I guess."

"Max," she whispered. "You mean that?"

"Don't say it like that, don't make it—"

She leaned up, silencing him with a kiss. Don't make it weird. But it already was.

And she kind of loved it.

Taglist: @d3kstar | @leodette | @driverlando | @maxlarens | @forzalando | @landinhoe | @trisharee | @littlegrapejuice | @lilypat | @manicpixiemom | @spookystitchery | @halleest | @lyannesworld | @llando4norris | @kravitzwhore | @younxii | @silentreader128 | @samantha-chicago | @mrsbrxkkxr | @cmleitora | @jasons-little-princess | @toldyouitwasamelodrama | @aundercoverosh | @kiwi43-81 | @awritingtree | @voidsfics | @misartymis | @goldenchemistry | @colmathgames2 | @elliotts1one | @lovin-fangirl | @czennieszn | @a-beaverhausen | @vicurious28 | @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp | @mcmuppet | @eveninggstar | @scorpiomindfuck | @larastark3107 | @classychalamet | @mavies-stuff |

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[honnelander]

surprises

WOW OK i can't believe i did this!! i needed a small break from my writer's block with Sanji and wanted to try my hand at another opla character that i find really interesting! and cute i'm sorry this was a lot of fun to write and i enjoyed the change of pace so i hope you enjoy! if you want to be tagged in any of my work, please read this

gif credit @zsuo

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2k

pairing: opla!buggy x reader

summary: reader is on 'clown duty' on the Going Merry while the crew searches for Nami, but the more you talk with Buggy, the more you realize you like him.

masterlist

taglist: @yarnnerdally @miloonmetis @fa1rybubbl3z @feelinmatcha @buggy0827 @uncomfortableshoelace @notasgard @deserticwren @shadydeanmuffin @ohsilk @antrenna @laviiv

Ok, you’ll admit it, you’ll finally admit it. You were finally going to admit to yourself the tiny, stupid, and annoying thought that has been plaguing the back of your mind for days now: 

You thought the clown was hot. 

Even saying that small, little sentence to yourself in your mind made you cringe and want to smack yourself into next week. 

You thought the clown was attractive? Buggy the freaking clown? Buggy, the flashy fool? Buggy, the... what, something-something jester? The guy that constantly wore that silly circus make up all the time, so you didn’t really know what his face even looked like exactly? The person who rivaled Usopp in always having the most shit to say? It was ridiculous.  

What was even worse, was the fact that he was just a head at this point, he wasn’t even a full person with a body. You had no idea what the rest of him looked like and you hated the fact that you were just so god damn curious to find out. It was embarrassing- you were attracted to a literal talking head! 

Apparently though, the rest of the crew had said, sans Sanji since you both had joined Luffy’s crew at the same time, that this Buggy guy was bad news. Why exactly? You didn’t really know, but it had something to do with Buggy attempting to drown Luffy to obtain the map to the Grand Line and decimating a town a couple of weeks ago. 

But it looked like that warning of ‘Buggy is dangerous’ had turned into ‘Buggy is just annoying’ since all he was now, at this point in time, was just a talking head that never seemed to shut up. That talking head, however, was your crew’s only ticket to find a rogue Nami so you all had no choice but to put up with his antics. 

“Can’t you just tell us where Arlong is?” you asked the clown head offhandedly one morning out on deck as you sharpened your daggers. “Without, you know, all the theatrics?”  

“God,” Buggy groaned, rolling his eyes to the heavens. “Are you deaf or are you just stupid?” he asked exasperatedly as his head hopped around and turned to face you. “For the millionth time- I can’t just tell you where Arlong is. My powers don’t work like that. I’m not a compass or a map.” 

“Well, actually, you kind of are, aren’t you?” you asked curiously with an eyebrow raised, not put off by his rude tone. “I mean, think about it,” you started, pointing the tip of your dagger to look at him. “You could like, ‘leave’ a toe or something anywhere you wanted to remember a certain thing or place, and you could then just... sense where to go to get it back. Exactly like a map.” You were silent for a minute as you went back to sharpening the blade. “But I guess you already did that, right? Since that’s how you found Luffy at the Baratie?” you asked with a thoughtful hum. 

“Wow,” Buggy laughed condescendingly. “You’re a real sharpshooter, aren’t you? Thanks for that master analysis, captain obvious. What do you think I’m doing right now?” 

The corner of your mouth twitched upwards. “Acting like a map to get your body back,” you answered without hesitation and a twinge of smugness. “Maybe you should be called ‘Buggy the Map’ instead. It has a nice ring to it.” 

The clown’s patronizing smile dropped, his expression deadpanning. “Haha, very funny,” Buggy said in a humorless voice. “And here I thought you weren’t anything more than just a pretty face.” 

Your eyes darted to him, quickly scanning over his expression to see if he was seriously calling you pretty or if he was just joking. When you saw no hint of sincerity in his green eyes (wow they were pretty), you cleared your throat and refocused your attention back onto your blade.  

“Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises actually,” you said matter-of-factly without thinking, your mouth having a mind of its own. Your eyes widened slightly, your line of sight not budging from your dagger as your hand running along the blade stilled for a second.  

Were you flirting with Buggy?

Were you insane? 

Buggy’s attention was already wandering but at your choice of words, his eyes snapped right back to your face. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. “Uh... ok?” He blinked. “Like what?” 

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, running your sharpening stone along the blade at a quicker pace. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

The clown furrowed his eyebrows, scrunching up his face in confusion as he looked at you. He felt like he had entered the Twilight zone or something.  

“Uh, yeah. You’re the one who brought it up, sweet cheeks,” he said as he watched you intently focus on your task at hand. Buggy then quirked an eyebrow as he added in snooty tone, “Well, whatever ‘surprise skills’ you have can’t possibly be knife sharpening because you’ve been working on that same blade all morning.” 

Shit. He was right, you realized. You had been out here longer than you initially thought and had been working on the same dagger ever since you sat down with him.  

In a quick attempt to hide your embarrassment at being called out, you swiftly sat up and stabbed the tip of your small blade into the wooden barrel next to where his head was. “Watch your mouth clown!” 

But Buggy didn’t even flinch. “Pfft, nice try sweetheart,” he scoffed. “But blades don’t scare me. I’m immune to cuts, remember? I’m literally just a head right now.” 

Crap. He got you. Again. You leaned back in your seat, pulling out your other blade to sharpen.  

“Oooo, another dagger, huh?” he asked with feigned interest, catching your gaze. “I guess you really are ‘full of surprises’,” he teased with an overly flirtatious tone and an exaggerated wink. 

At that, your face reddened. You knew he was just joking, but the combination of you admitting to yourself that you found him attractive coupled with his flirty teasing and that wink... it was causing your heart rate to accelerate like you had a schoolgirl crush.  

And crushing on Buggy? The talking clown head? It was just all too ridiculous. 

You resumed your blade sharpening ritual, trying to pretend like he wasn’t affecting you. “Well, I did tell you that, didn’t I?” you asked, trying to turn the tables back on him. 

Buggy was silent for a beat as his eyes regarded you. HIs voice dropped an octave lower, intentionally or not, you weren’t sure, as he said in a more earnest tone, “Yeah... but I didn’t think it was true.” 

Your eyebrows shot up at hearing his admission, his tone surprising you as you quickly turned your head towards him. When you saw the look in his eyes, the way that he was still staring at you, it caused your heart to skip a beat. It was like he was seeing you for the first time, really seeing you. 

‘Being more than a pretty face’ wasn’t something you took lightly; it was something you lived by. It had become your mantra of some sort. Your whole life, you were underestimated, rarely ever being taken seriously because you ‘had a pretty face’ that you could ‘coast by’ on. People (men) always assumed you were too dumb to understand things or be smart and have talents because you were pretty, and it absolutely infuriated you.  

You shook your head, clearing up those thoughts. You didn’t feel like delving into that right now and especially not with Buggy of all people, so instead of biting back, you said with a curt, humorless laugh as you went back to your blade, “There’s always more to people than meets the eye, you know.” 

Buggy let out a snort, his green eyes looking towards the sky for a second. “Yeah,” he agreed. “No kidding.” 

Both of you became quiet, a few beats of strangely comfortable silence passing between the two of you before you broke it. 

“But probably not with you though,” you joked. “You’re probably just all clown, complete with bad jokes and questionable make up. And,” you looked at him, a spark of mischief in your eyes, “you’re probably not even that tall.” 

You hoped to God that Buggy really did have a sense a humor and that your playful jabs didn’t go over his bandana cladded head because you really didn’t want to make an enemy out of him. And if he didn’t get your sense of humor, then you and him probably would never work out anyway.  

Your stomach fell to your feet at the thought. What were you even saying?? Jesus, you really were delusional. The quicker you guys found Arlong and split ways with Buggy, the better. 

But of course, the universe had different plans for you, because Buggy did in fact have a sense of humor and took your mockery of his height in stride. 

“What- not tall?? Please,” his voice becoming playfully haughty. “Just wait until you see my body, sweetheart. I’ll be looking down at you, telling you the best jokes you’ve ever heard in your life with some fresh clown make-up on,” he said, winking at you with a click of his tongue. “I call it ‘the Buggy trifecta.’” 

You looked away from him, hiding your flushed cheeks as you shook your head, a smile on your face as you opened your mouth to say something back when Sanji came up to the upper deck, a small smile on his face when he saw you and effectively cutting off your banter. 

“Ah, there you are y/n!” the blonde cook called out. “I’ve been looking for you. I didn’t realize you’d be out here on, uh,” his blue eyes darted to Buggy for a nanosecond before looking back at you, “clown duty.” 

Buggy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Well, good morning to you too, happy feet.” 

Sanji glanced at Buggy again, furrowing his eyebrows for a second before shaking his head once with a blink and letting out a small sigh as he turned his attention back to you, deciding it wasn’t worth it to argue with the clown head. 

“Yeah, so, uh, anyway,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “Breakfast is ready,” he relayed, jabbing a thumb behind him. “I wanted to let you know before it got cold.” 

“Hey, what about my breakfast, blondie?” Buggy complained. “I might just be a head right now, but a clown’s gotta eat, you know?” When he saw the questionable stares from you and Sanji, Buggy shook his head. “Don’t ask me how it works,” he said before either of you could say anything. “But it just does. I still get hungry and need to eat.” He looked back up at Sanji, his green eyes expectant. “So how about whipping me up some scrambled eggs, huh?” 

Sanji blinked. “Oh, well, sure-” 

“I got it, Sanji,” you said, cutting off your lifelong friend. You stood up from your seat, sheathing your daggers back into their holsters on your hips. “I’ll make you some eggs Buggy.” 

“Ooo, look at that,” Buggy laughed. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Ignoring the questioning look Sanji was giving you, you walked past the two men, well, man and talking head, and started going down the stairs. “Here’s another surprise: I’ll cook you your eggs once I’m done eating, in like an hour. How does that sound?” 

“Whoa, wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean it like that, y/n!” Buggy quickly backtracked, trying his best to smooth things over with you as fast as he could. “I meant that as like, a good surprise! Really!” 

You smirked to yourself, finding it funny how quickly Buggy switched up his mannerisms in order to get what he wanted. “Sanji, you’re on clown duty!” You called out, tunning Buggy out, leaving him begging and pleading with a confused Sanji, who was wondering what the heck he just witnessed between you two. 

[thatfreshi]

I Want to Mean It - Astarion x Reader

Your wedding is fast approaching, and you have one last preparation to make.

Recommended Song: Sick of Losing Soulmates - Dodie

You and Astarion are set to get married tomorrow evening. After nautiloid crashes and illithid parasites, you never really thought you'd get to do some romantic ritual like this. After all, both of you should have been long gone by now, yet Lady Luck stuck around.

Despite how soon the ceremony is, you've been quite busy working with Gale, who just so happens to be your best man. A powerful wizard like that is good to have on your side, especially when marrying a vampire. After yet another long day of perfecting spells and testing magical methods, you return home to your lover, who is making last-minute stitches into his wedding outfit.

"If it isn't my soon-to-be spouse, come here my love."

Despite his cold skin, it's a warm embrace. You're tense though, and he can sense it.

"What's the matter darling?"

You try to swallow the nervousness, but it sticks in your throat.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy this week. I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect for us."

"Why of course. It has to be a night to remember after all. Wouldn't be our wedding if it wasn't."

You go to grab something out of your pocket, wrapping your hand around a small vial, almost shattering the glass with your grasp.

"What have we here?"

He slips his hand past yours, easily removing the vial from your hand. To his surprise, it's empty. There is a slight coating of what used to be a liquid inside.

"Astarion, I love you so, so much."

He investigates the vial further, almost ignoring your sentence.

"Well of course my love, I know that."

He uncorks the vial, and is immediately hit with a sickeningly sweet smell, a scent he can't quite place.

"My god, what is this. Or better yet, what was this?"

You're shaking, unsure of what he'll say if you tell him. Instead, you move to your other pocket and grab a rolled-up piece of paper from Gale's journal. Putting it in his pale hand, you go to sit on the bed, head in your hands. He begins reading.

"On the sixth day of attempting to perfect my spell, I have confirmed the following:

It was successful

The research I found was accurate and correctly documented

The subject has gained immortality."

There is more listed below, but he doesn't read it.

"Tav, you idiot. You absolute fool I-"

Astarion is unable to speak, both dumbfounded and emotional.

"Ambrosia, you're playing dangerous games. Games you don't know the rules to."

He's angry, you expected him to be. As someone who has lived for centuries, he knows what you've asked for, what you've done. Ambrosia, a liquid of pure joy, one of the only things that can grant immortality. You spoke to Gale for weeks on end, trying to figure out the safest way to live forever. Turns out, there are very few, and this one was quite difficult to perform.

"Astarion I-"

"No, we have to reverse it, we have to go to him right now and figure out how to stop this."

"Aster, my love, you know as well as I do that's not possible."

"Well damn it he'll make it possible!"

You shudder a little. He doesn't raise his voice often, usually only ever out of fear. Then the tears roll.

"Why would you do this to yourself."

You get up from the bed and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He turns away, almost as if he's ashamed of your choice.

"Because when we say our vows tomorrow, and I tell you I want to be yours forever, I want to mean it."

You begin to sob too, not out of fear, but out of how much you love this man. Years ago you never would've drunk something like Ambrosia, you never would've asked to live forever.

"But you'll be stuck with me forever. Hells, I'm stuck with me forever and sometimes I wish I wasn't."

You don't know what to say, how to tell him you knew this was right, how you and Gale fought about what you were asking for, how he said that Astarion would react this way. While you try to gather the words, he turns to look at you again, still overwhelmed by this information.

"What if... what if you get sick of me?"

You wipe a tear away from his eye, and give him a bittersweet smile.

"You know damn well we're already sick of each other."

You chuckle, he does too.

"You should've told me."

"Well, I wanted my wedding gift to be a surprise."

While the mood lightens, he loses some of the tension, all of the anger dissipates. He realizes he's not alone anymore, that he won't have to watch you pass on into the afterlife without him.

"Well, it's a phenomenal gift my sweet."

You both become enraptured in a deep kiss, something ravenous behind his lips, something relieved in his heart. That kiss multiplies, until you're both out of breath.

"Save some of that for after the ceremony dear."

You wink at him, and you both burst out laughing. The hysteria in the air, it's something you've never quite felt before, and you'd get every chance to feel it again, alongside with Astarion, and you realize you've never felt more sure about anything in your life. This is one decision you'll never question, as long as he's yours, and you are his.

[savvypervy0]

Little Puppy 2

TW: Teacher/Student, Total Power Exchange, degradation, praise, Dominant Daddy, Pet play, age gap, smut

You're at his class again. This time, wearing the collar like it's a badge of honor. Tied to it, there's a small pendant with his initials and his phone number in the back. In display, for everyone to see, was a small bone, etched into the metal, with the name "Puppy" written on it.

"What's that you're wearing?" You could hear your friend ask. "Just something I thought I had to hide for the longest time." You smile, trying to look confident. But deep down, you're embarrassed.

This wasn't your idea. Of course not. It was his. Entering the class room, you see his desk already. His eyes meet yours, guiding you to the desk right in front of his with just his gaze.

"Good morning, class." His voice quickly captures the attention of everyone in the room. You can't focus on the class at all, always going back to last week, remembering how he treated you, how he played with you… Going back to when you woke up and he was playing with your hair, caressing your cheeks. That fucking "good morning, little puppy" that messes up your brain and makes you giggle like you lost a thousand points of IQ. In his hands, in his bed, you become nothing more than a dumb, adorable little pet. And you love it.

"Next week, wear the collar for me." While driving you home the next day, he stops in the mall. "I'll get you something special to go with it. "Y- you want me to attend all classes wearing the collar?" You voice was trembling, your stomach drops down to your knees. "Is that too much to ask of you, little puppy?" Holding your hand, he guides you to a pet shop. "This is where we'll get the pendant to your collar." "N- no. I can do that. I'm a big puppy…" You try to sound confident, or even grown up, but your voice and your knees betray you. "It's okay if it's only for my classes for now, sweetheart." Leaving a soft kiss on your forehead, he turns to the cashier, getting the dogtag and paying. "Thank you for doing it so quickly." "No problem, sir. When the owner asks, we do it."

"You're the owner, Mr. Jon-?!" Before you can finish saying anything, you feel his finger on your lips, closing your mouth. "I already told you, sunshine. Outside of school, I'm not Mr. Jones." "S-sorry…" You can feel the heat growing on your cheeks, spreading through your face. "You're the owner here, d… daddy…?" God, why are you trembling so much? This cashier doesn't even know you. And he seems like someone Mr. Jones know… "Good pup…" He gently scratches behind your ears, caressing your hair. "Now, can you be a good pet and lift your chin so I can put the charm on your collar?"

You timidly lift your face, suddenly being forced to stare into his eyes, to watch a small grin forming on his mouth as you feel his strong, soft hands working on your collar, attaching the charm.

"W- what is in it, d- daddy?" "Why don't you see for yourself, sweetheart?" He grabs your hand and guides you to a room in the back, passing through a 'Staff Only' door. "Where are you taking me…?" You're scared, you don't know this place. "Somewhere safe, trust me." You know he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, but the fear of an unkown place was still present to you. "Like the… puppy room?" The pieces slowly connect in your brain. Suddenly, everything makes more sense. "Smart one, aren't you?" His soft giggle melts your brain into a complete mush, as he scrambles what was left with a soft caress on your hair. "Am smart?" Your giggling brain can't even form a proper sentence when his hands are touching you. God, you're so pathetic in his hands… "The smartest little pup in the world, sweetheart." His soft stirring on your scalp was melting your brain more and more… "Hehehe…" "Now, sweetie. To the puppy room, okay?

Holding his hand, you followed close, each of his steps being two of yours, making echoes on the walls around you. You finally arrive at a door marked with only one word: [PLAY].

"So… this is the play room…?" Your voice is shy, but filled with curiosity.

How different this room might be from daddy's play room? What kinds of toys would they have? What about the rules inside? All of those thoughts keep swirling inside your brain, round, and round and round…

"What's wrong, sunshine?" His hands wake you up from that trance, caressing your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes. "Is my little pup thinking about what might be behind this door? Maybe about all the naughty stuff we'll do, or even what I might force onto you as a 'rule'…?" "Um…" You try to form words, but there's no way to argue back at him. He knows you too well. "Yes…" "Good puppy…" His fingers gently scraping on your shoulders were more than enough praise, but he still insisted on saying it. Because more than anything else, he knows his voice has a strange effect on your brain; cooking it like a slow heat oven. "Now, puppy. The first rule here is that you must wear the collar."

You feel his big, gentle hands wrapping around your neck, the soft leather from your collar touching your skin. A comforting, dumbing feeling taking control of your brain, slowly making you go back thousands of years, back to your most primal instincts. You don't even think, you just press your head against his chest, as he softly caresses your hair, whispering small words of praise that you can't even understand. Even if he only played with you once, your brain already knows. When you're wearing the collar, you're not his student, you're not the smart, straight As that he's so proud of. No, you're just his little puppy. His desperate, tail-wagging, begging, whimpering and messy puppy.

"Daddy… can I open the door?" Your voice, even if still shy, gets more confident. Right now, you have no power in this dynamic. You can't do anything he won't let you. There's no reason to think, to analyse the situation. You just submit and smile to his actions, to his desires. "Of course, sweetheart. Go on." You see that soft, malicious grin on his face. That stupid fucking grin.

You knew he was looking down on you. Fuck. You reach your hand to the door handle, and were about to turn it when…

"Oh, almost forgot!" As soon as you turn around, you hear a soft, dry 'click' coming out of your neck. And the tip of the lead is in his hands. "Do you have a safe word in mind, sweetie?" "Safe word?" You never really thought about this. You just assumed he would know how to treat you, since he's experienced and all. "No? Do I need one?" "Shit. Okay, we should've talked this better before coming here." He takes off the collar from your neck. "No! I want to play!" "I know, kiddo. We will play, don't worry." You feel his scratches behind your ear. "We just need to discuss this before doing anything." "But yesterday-" "Yesterday wasn't planned. I kinda forgot the formalities because you're too fucking adorable. But here we're in a kinda public place. Other people might come, and I need to know when to stop if you're ever feeling uncomfortable, right?" He bombarded you with words. Your brain sort of short-circuited with the sudden praise, but you got the general idea. "Y- yeah, makes sense…" "Good pup." He takes a Kitkat from his pocket and cracks one of the four bars, giving it to you. "Do you like this?" "Uh-hum!" You happily munch down on the little treat as he explains what could work as a safe word. "It can be anything that grounds you, something to take you off the role. When you say this word, I will stop what I'm doing to make sure you're okay." "Why the need for a safe word? Can't I just say 'stop' or 'I don't want it'?" "Well, you see…" Mr. Jones scratches his head, trying to find the right words. "There's this thing called 'Consensual Non-Consent', where you say 'no! Stop! I don't want this!' when you really, really want it. Some subs are very heavily into this, and the idea of a 'safe word' serves to make sure no limits are being broken." "So basically I can just say like… 'Crackers' and you stop at any time?" "Yeah." He hands you the rest.

"Now that you know how this works…" As you're eating the kitkat, you feel the familiar texture of the collar on your neck, you hear the sounds of being bound by the leather and metal around your neck. You're back to being just his little puppy. "What's our safe word, sunshine?" "Crackers." You speak in-between bites, trying to eat quick to have more time to play. "Good puppy." Scratching your hair, he opens the door and pulls the leash, guiding you inside, as you gulp down the rest of the chocolate.

As soon as his hands pull down on that door handle, you heard a click, then a crack. And then your eyes were flooded with red lights from all corners of the room, reflecting from shiny metal tables, painting otherwhise leather things with a blood-like tint.

"Wow…" You brain slowly kicked back into action, analyzing everything on that space, clinching every detail to your brain, to your conscious. "There's… so many things here that I've never seen…" "You can pick where and when we start, sweetheart." With a soft, almost guiding brush on your cheeks, he slowly goes through each and every toy, tool and item inside the room. But you couldn't focus on anything he was saying. Your brain was too focused on the pair of handcuffs, imagining how he might use it… Grabbing your hands, forcing you against a wall and forcefully restraining your movements, cuffing your hands together in front of you, grinding them against his growing bulge…

"Pup? Sunshine?" you woke up from your torpor as soon as you heard his fingers snapping on your ears, to find one of your hands already playing down there without permission. "Naughty puppy. I might have to do something about this, don't I?" You watch, with a mix of horror, arousal and fear, as he takes his slow, calculated steps towards a wall covered with all kinds of devices… "What should I pick…?" You can hear in his voice. He already knows what got you like this. "Maybe the leg-spreader…?" The device he feints toward is a big pole of metal with adjustable size, and leather straps pending from each end. "Or the rope… I could do a hogtie…" You don't know what this is, even if it sounds hot. He goes down all other equipment, until he stops by the handcuffs. "Of maybe all you want is the simplest one? Because your dummy puppy brain is still getting used to all of this?" You can't hide the shine in your eyes, te excitment. You promptly pull your hands in front of you, dripping with your arousal. He smiles, and locks you.

"Now, puppy. Do you remember what we talked about right before coming here?" "The… crackers?" You smile, already waiting for your treat, knowing you were a good puppy for remembering it. "Yes. Good job. If at any point I do something you don't like, just say the word." "Uh hum." You look up at his face, waiting for your treat. It's almost pathetic to watch as you squirm, trying to look cuter… "What's wrong? Do you perhaps want me to start already? Treats are for good puppies. And you were touching without permission, weren't you?"

The realization hits you like a truck. You're not a good pet now. For the first time, he's going to punish you for something. And that is scary. But you deserve to be punished, you were doing things you shouldn't without permission. And if he gets too 'excited' with the punishment, you can always bail.

As you're lost in thoughts, you didn't even notice as he guided your pathetic self to one of the shiny metal tables. "You're still wearing too much clothing. Do you like this shirt, sweetheart?" "You look hot, daddy." "Flattery won't make your punishment any easy, dummy. I meant the shirt you're wearing." "Oh…" You look down, a bit sad that your fail-proof had failed. "Yes, it was a gift from my friend." "Alright." From his back pocket, he pulls a key, taking the cuffs off of you. "Get naked." You don't even hesitate. He already has a grip on your brain, and all this whiplash from 'punishment' to 'caring dom' is confusing you.

As soon as you start taking the shirt off, he extends his hand, ready to grab it. And as you slowly take the rest off, you see him carefully folding that shirt, as if it's special to him as well. "What's wrong? Forgot how to take the rest off, sweetheart?" His voice is soft, almost like a summer wind hitting your naked chest, as his big, strong hands find their way inside your pants, gently taking them off together with your undies. With a tender kiss, he pushes you onto the table and sets the clothes aside.

He comes from the chair where he left them, and grabs a small vibrator from the giant wall of toys. "Since this is a punishment, sweetheart, I'll have to be a little more… aggressive. Be ready." He says this, but does not wait until you're ready.

Taking advantage of your unfavorable position, spread open on top of the table, he presses the vibe on your most sensitive spot. And he does this hard, with a little bit of pain. But your dumb mutt brain cannot focus on the pain, because the mere thought of his hands forcing this much pleasure on you is enough to drown any discomfort, any pain. You last a whole 45 seconds before cumming like a desperate bitch in heat, making a big mess on top of the table, and hitting his clothes as well. "God, you're a pathetic existence, you know? Your body is so well made to be my special, tiny little toy, and yet all you do is whimper, scream and piss all over me. Do you think this is funny, little one? Do you think you have any sort of control here?" Using the pathetic mess you just made, he wets the vibrator, shoving it directly inside your hole. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." You started saying this without even noticing. Your vision is blurry, your hands try to move, only for you to find them cuffed to each other. You put them between your legs, only for him to grab and lift them. "I already told you, mutt. You don't have a shred of control here. Your body became my toy for me to do as I please as soon as you put that collar around your neck and gave me the tip of the leash. You became mine. You are fucking mine, you understand?" "Y-ye-" You can't say a word without going into a whimpering, sobbing mess. You can't feel your feet anymore, your legs are moving without you wanting them to, your voice sounds like a whore. You're a mess. A complete mess. And he is smiling that stupid fucking sadistic smile. That slightly concealed grin, that one you fucking hate how much you love. The one that shows his power over you.

"Oh, what's wrong? Can't even speak because your tiny, little body can't handle all this pleasure? Are you gonna cum again without permission, little toy?" He takes the toy away from you. Finally, some time off. You calm down, get your nerves back… or so it should've been. In reality, you were so, so close to cumming again, to feeling good… But he robbed you of that good, explosive feeling. You start to whimper. Your brain is no more. Your hips move on their own, desperately trying to lift up just enough to feel those vibrations again, to feel that pleasure once more… "Nuh uh, sweetheart. You can't do this." He slaps your crotch, forcing you back down. You flinch, scared with the first slap he ever gave you for real. It stings, almost like his hand is still there, marking your skin, your nerves. You look back at him with those adorable, needy puppy eyes. The eyes that meet your gaze are careful, even a bit worried, like watching to see how you react. "B-but…" You try doing the same movement again, lifting your waist up, searching for the elusive toy. Only to feel his hand again slapping you down on the table.

But this time, you were expecting it. And you let out a soft moan. He smiles again, the worry in his eyes vanishing, being replaced by lust, hunger and desire. And you are the object he oh, so much wants. You, your body and your little whimpers.

Grabbing both your hands, you feel his bigger, stronger hands, as he rolls you around, pressing your sensitive nipples and tummy on the cold metal table. You flinch and moan with the sudden stimulus, closing your eyes and opening your mouth wide. "Now the puppy moans again." You listen to his belt being unbuckled, to his heavy breaths, as the hard black leather wraps around your left ankle, and he pulls it up. You don't know exactly how, but he ties your left ankle to your hands, leaving your body completely exposed and ready to be fucked, with your tiny little hole dripping with desire and lust. "Please…"

"Please what, bitch? Use all of your remaining brain cells and form a fucking sentence." He knows what he's doing. So much so that you can feel his finger slowly circling around your neediness, grabbing a little bit of what you shot out and spreading on the hole, moistening it up. "Please, don't make me say it…" You feel the first intrusion inside you. His index finger gently spreading your insides, slowly going deeper inside you, until you feel his knuckles on your outside skin. You can't see what he's doing, since he's behind you. Your min conjure all kinds of scenarios, thinking about things he might have grabbed to toy with you… "Your body is already screaming it. There's no shame left on you that I haven't stripped away yet. Just. Say. It." With each word, he thrusts his finger inside you, almost like he needs to make sure his words go deeper inside you, for you to understand what he's saying. "F… fu…" You try to form a word, but your mouth isn't really working with you here. "Fu… Fudge, little one? Do you want daddy to buy you fudge when we're done?" He whispers those words directly into your brain, through your left ear. When you look there, he's standing naked, his cock already fully erect, almost touching your lips. You just stick out your tongue, moving your head forward, trying to get at least the tip inside your mouth… Only to be met with his other hand on your hair, pulling you back to your place. "Not so fast, smart ass." He starts moving his hand faster, pulling your hair harder. The pleasure mixed in with the pain is confusing every single sensory receptor in your body, like they're short circuiting. "Fuck… Dick… Cock… Me… Cock… In… Inside…" You can't form a cohesive phrase. And he's loving it. "You want daddy's cock inside this hole here?" He shoves two fingers inside you, forcing your little body to cum. You just scream "YES!" without thinking anything other the "finally". And then, you feel his hands leaving your hair, followed by a strong snap coming from your ass. You scream louder, letting out even more of your pathetic cummies. "I didn't give you permission to cum, slut." Another slap. This time harder, more precise. The pain is slightly stronger than the pleasure, but your pain receptors are short-circuiting, so you don't even care, you keep on cumming a little more with each slap. "You're such a pathetic little bitch, you now? You barely knew what a safe word was 15 minutes ago, and now you're screaming, begging for more pain…"

"Do you still want my cock inside you, sweetheart?" Suddenly, he stops slapping you, and you start breathing heavily. His voice is as dominant as always, sounding like a predator gauging his prey, watching your reactions.

Your vision is still blurry, and you can barely feel your body. You feel so good. But you want more, you're a greedy little pet. "Please… please fuck my needy, pathetic little hole, daddy…" You finally manage to say, positioning yourself as best as you can with only one leg available. "Good pup." You feel his soft pats on your head once again. Finally, praise! Finally, you did a good job! "Here, open your little mouth for me." He slides a piece of fudge for you to eat. "Keep your sugar levels high so you can take my cock without fainting, sweetheart." "Hehe… okay…" You look so dumb with that stupid smile on your face. And, God… He looks so hot handling your body to it's proper place, carefully laying you back in front of him.

"Here I come, sweetie. Tell me if it's too sensitive to continue, okay?" "Oka-" You don't even finish the sentence.

He shoves all of his cock all the way inside in one single thrust. "Look at how needy your body got for me, puppy. It's practically swallowing me, pulling me deeper… I'll cum in no time like this." You can barely understand what he's saying, anyways. You just want him to flood you with his seed. "Cum… In…" You go back to that moaning, whimpering torpor.

You can't think about anything, your brain is completely empty. And when you open your eyes again, you hear his voice. "Inside or on your back, sweetheart?" "Inside!" You don't even think before responding. Your body needs to be bred so, so much… You physically cannot wait anymore to feel his hot cum inside you, dripping on the floor… He grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. And right when he's the deepest inside you, you hear his coarse, rough voice whispering "fuck…" with that strong dominance, followed by a strong bite on the back of your neck, surely marking you. Putting all of this together, you cum once more, feeling his thick cock spurting out all of his sperm deep, deep inside you, marking your insides as much as he did your neck.

"Good pup…" His breath is shallow, but he's still standing, caressing your hair as he unties his belt from your ankle. "Daddy… eepy…" You slowly blink your eyes, trying to make sense of what just happened. "Did you count how many times?" "Dumb puppy… can't count more than 3…" You say, trying to deny the sheer volume of your liquids on top of that table. At least he giggles at this, grabbing the key to the handcuffs and unlocking them. You finally feel all the soreness on your whole body, letting yourself limp out on the table. "Sore…" "I know, sweetie… Sorry about that…" His arms are comfortable, as he sits down on a armed chair, putting you to sleep on his arms, humming a lullaby and patting your head. "Sleep, now. When you wake up, I'll tell you everything." "Uh hum…" You doze off before even trying to think of what the "everything" was.

[kriffingstars]

Johnny MacTavish; found out

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: you and Johnny get rumbled. Uncle John is not a happy camper warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26), canon typical violence, swearing a/n: i wrote this running off of 4 hours sleep on an 8 hour flight, i can only apologise for any typos/sentences that don’t make sense. i did try and check before posting

It's careless really, the way your Uncle finds out about the two of you.

After two months away, he calls you to let you know he'll be home at the end of the week. You get a similar call from Johnny after, letting you know that he'll be all yours for the next few weeks.

At your beck and call, is how he phrases it.

You hadn't forgotten about the letter stuck to the front of the fridge with one of the magnets your Uncle had bought you whilst he was away a few months ago.

On the contrary, you adore it. It's on the fridge because you see it every time you walk into the kitchen. Reading the tentative words in the first love letter you have ever received.

Sweets,

Being away from you is killing me, I'm being safe like I promised, keeping my head in the game, but I can't get you out of my head.

All I'm thinking about is coming home to you, you're going to have to pry me off you when I'm back.

I haven't said it yet but I love you. No one will ever come close to the way I feel about you. You bring me peace, make all the stuff in my head quiet and it's just you.

I can't believe you've been hidden away from me all this time.

When I'm home I'm going to take you out, I'll whisk you away somewhere nice and it'll be just us. No work, no worries and we'll figure it all out.

I hope you're not working too hard like I know you do. You're too smart for any of us, me especially. I could listen to you talk for days. Missing your voice, I'm sorry we can't call, but figured you'd enjoy a letter all the same.

Love your Johnny x

You cried like a baby when it arrived. Even when you're thousands of miles apart he's still thinking about ways to make you happy, and you're more than sure that he is it for you.

No one else could ever compete with the way that he has completely and utterly captured your heart.

Price feels his blood boil as he holds the letter in his hands, eyes flitting over a few of the stand-out phrases in it, written in Johnny's unmistakable handwriting. He's seen it enough on reports he's had to sign off to know it's his without having to even check the last line.

Seething is an understatement as he climbs back into his car, racing back to base to confront the man who has blatantly ignored all the warnings he's given.

It's not even the disrespect that angers him the most, it's the trust that Soap has completely broken. All the assurances, joking that you're a nicer version of him. How it's all just friendly, how he'd never make a move on you.

His thoughts flit back to you, you've got no clue what you've done to yourself. What you've opened yourself up to because if you realised, he's certain you would never have done this to him.

You're out at the moment, god knows where. He was expecting you to be at home considering it's the summer holiday for you. He'll deal with you later, probably more softly and with a bit more tact than the way he knows he's going to deal with Soap when he gets his bloody hands on him.

He's never driven so quickly back to base, even when he's been called in for emergencies.

He doesn't care for the speeding fine he's most likely going to cop, all that's on his mind is tearing Soap limb to fucking limb.

"MacTavish," is all he bellows as he spots the Scotsman, laughing with Ghost about who knows what.

"What the fuck is this?!" he bellows, slapping the letter down on the table in front of the cursed man.

Everything about the action causing the Scotsman in front of him to jump out of his skin.

"You're a dead man, MacTavish. Going to fucking bury you," he shouts as he leaps towards Soap, who's backed away from the table and the letter that's tossed on top of it.

Ghost has never seen the Captain so red, the veins in his neck stand up with rage as a vein down his forehead pulses with anger.

He doesn't waste any time putting himself between the two men, holding Soap back, his t-shirt screwed in his fist, and a flat palm again Price's chest.

It doesn't matter that he's the aggressor in this instance, he's not manhandling his Captain, no matter the issue.

"I told you to stay away, let you be her friend and you ignore everything."

Right. This needs to go somewhere private because this is definitely a personal issue, and there are a lot of eyes on the three of them currently, listening in to everything.

"Not here," is all Ghost needs to say before Price is storming off to his office, not even checking to see if Soap is following. He doesn't need to, Soap knows he'll only make things even worse if he runs now.

"What did you do, mate?" is all he says as he releases the man, pushing him in front, not before grabbing the letter left on the table, as they both march to Price's office.

When they get there papers are strewn, furniture is out of place and Price is pacing and mumbling incoherent threats.

Neither man has ever seen him so riled up, even on the battlefield. It's jarring. Usually, their Captain is so precise with his anger, it's carefully controlled and this is nothing like that.

He doesn't acknowledge them when they come in, he lets them stew in the tension. Waiting to pounce.

"Sit down."

Soap's in the chair in seconds, and for the second time today Ghost sees something new, this time it's Soap moving the fastest he ever has.

"I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them."

Ghost feels like he really shouldn't be here, but if he leaves now he's not certain both men are coming out of this room alive.

Soap's looking absolutely terrified, he's pale and shaking harder than ever. His heart is beating at a rate that's completely unsustainable, he's either going to pass out or go over with a clutcher.

"How long."

Soap is stumbling over his words as he eventually spurts out "Six months,"

"Sir. Six months, sir," Price corrects, as he squares his shoulder, the tension not easing.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Soap apologises as he bows his head not risking making eye contact.

"You've been lying to me and directly disobeying order for six fucking months!" he spits, as he advances on the man in the chair, before slamming his hand down on the desk next to Soap.

The sound rips through the office and once again Soap is jumping out of his skin at the blistering noise.

"Do you realise what you've done?" is the next thing that comes from Price's mouth. It's barely audible as he gets up in the younger man's face.

Ghost's seen Price interrogate the worst of the worst, and still, nothing could compare to this. The venom in his voice, or the malice in his eyes.

It's personal this time.

"Tell me why I shouldn't gut you from head to toe?" he spits, as he leans back again, waiting for Soap's answer.

"Because I love her, sir."

It's the first time he lifts his gaze the entire interaction.

"You love her?" Price scoffs, as he mocks the man shrinking under his gaze.

"That makes it okay then, why didn't you say so?" he mocks.

Ghost isn't sure what's going to happen next, it certainly isn't what Soap says next.

"I want to marry her, sir. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, sir."

That was definitely not the right response, and it sends Price reeling.

"Oh, that makes it okay then, should have just said so!" he's seething now. Ghost really didn't think he could get more riled up than he already is, but once again he's surprised which doesn't happen very easily.

"Not only have you disrespected my orders. You've dragged her into your life and now you plan on marrying her now," his voice is steady and now filled with a deeply unsettling calmness.

"Get out of my sight," is the next thing to come out of his mouth before turning his back to the men in the room.

"And don't you ever think of contacting her again."

[f4iry-bell]

@emelia07 sorry i couldn't directly answer the ask, my stupid ass accidentally posted midway editing. ANYWAY, this quite long for an one shot and there will be a part two (for the lovers part). lowkey longan huntzberger vibes

She drove him to the absolute end of the world. And with just two sentences, it's all Jameson Hawthorne has been thinking about. Jameson likes to party, in his own way, not the silly college parties that he gets invited to. But he was in college, and is in college to meet people, make friends, and have fun. Maybe these people can learn a thing or two from him.

So he accepted an invite and went to a party. The biggest mistake he made since he joined college. Because that's where he met her.

Being in a party full of stupid men was enough to piss Y/n off, on top of that she saw a man with probably a narcissistic personality disorder. There was a group of people talking, one of them was her friend, her friend called her over and got her involved in the conversation. She was surprised how many people were interested in Jameson Hawthorne.

“Have you smoked weed”

“What is the most expensive thing that you own”

“What is do you like”

Tons of questions were asked to him. 

“I’m a man of riddles and games. There isn't a single riddle that I can't solve” He told them with a confident smile.

Y/n didn't know much about this man, but she had the urge to humble him.

“I have a riddle for you.” She said, grabbing his attention. 

Jameson liked it, a challenge. He thought, a random girl at a random college party, how hard the riddle could be?

“What has no wings, but flies. Has no eyes but knows every colour” She said. Everyone was confused, including Jameson himself. He tried to think of an answer but he didn't get one. He tried to think of something mythical, something metaphorical. But he couldn't get anything that fits.

“Quiet now, are we?” She smiled so proudly of herself. Jameson didn't answer, just stared at her intensely. She was the one to break eye contact and leave.

Jameson spent days looking for an answer, he even asked his brothers for help. None of them could figure it out. He was not the type to give up. But there's a first time for everything, he thought. He headed to the girl's apartment and knocked on her door. Going to parties come handy, you can easily find any girl’s apartment.

She opened the door. “You need something?” She asked him. 

“Answer” It was all he said, his pride was too high to form a complete sentence.

“For what? We don't take any classes together” She acted like she doesn't know what he's talking about.

“Quit the act. You know what I want” He said calmly. 

“Oh, you mean the riddle? I thought you could find the answer to any riddle” She smirked.

“Well, since last week I can't. Now, answer.” He asked.

“Where are your manners?” She raised an eyebrow.

Jameson rolled his eyes. “Please?”

She smiled. “The answer is; nil”

“Nil? As in nothing? Doesn't make sense ‘What has wings but can't fly—” He was cut off by her.

“Yeah, yeah. It doesn't make any sense because there is no answer. I don't know the answer either, I just randomly made it up without having an answer.”

Till this moment Jameson was amused and intrigued by this girl. But now? He was frustrated. He was speechless.

“Do you know how much time I spent on this ridiculous so-called riddle?” He was mad.

“Wah, wah, wah. I don't know and I don't care. You got your answer, now bye.” Then she slammed the door. 

Jameson calmed himself down. It's just a stupid thing. He can't let it get to him. But it did, she did.

_

He tried hard not to think about her, and how she played him but he failed every time. Sometimes he even admired it. But he wants to get even or a step ahead of her. So, he joined her journalism class and sat right next to her.

“That's my friend’s seat” She told him.

“Not anymore” He smiled.

“You're not even in this class” She stated.

“Not anymore” He gave her a cheeky smile.

“You're interested in journalism?” She asked.

“I'm full of surprises”

“Whatever”

Jameson learnt that she is on top of the class, and likes to stay that way. So he decided to compete with her, he has barely any interest in journalism but he wants to get back at her. Finally, there was an actual competition between them. There was only one spot left in the Yale newspaper. The editor said whoever writes the best article gets the spot. 

Y/n had too many ideas to write about but she finally settled on writing about the secret society, but she needed information and it's already too late. Tomorrow is the submission, so she sneaked inside the library at midnight and even picked the lock of the restricted section to get access to the newspapers there. She found nothing except a Yale newspaper which had a bunch of suspects on who could be that year's members of the secret society, and she headed towards the library exit. To her luck, Jameson Hawthorne was standing right there, he looked like he was waiting for her.

“Too late to be here, don't you think?” he asked. “I must let you know, I do admire a good lock picking” He said leaning against the door frame.

“I could ask you the same question” She said ignoring the last sentence.

Jameson smirked. “I was just wandering around the campus and found the library door slightly open and look what I've found inside” 

“You're seriously not going to tell me, are you?” She asked. “We're not like in 4th grade or something”

“It'll get you suspended, and I’ll get the spot” He shrugged.

“Oh, so this is how you want your win? By getting me suspended?” She chuckled, she knew by now that Jameson Hawthorne likes to win but he also likes to play.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Very well. You still haven't answered my question.” He noted.

“I came to look for information for my article. Not that it's any of your—.” She stopped her sentence midway and took a look at his outfit. He was wearing a suit with a tie which had blue and white stripes. He was also holding a hat and it looked like something was inside the hat. Who would wear a suit with Yale colours and hold a hat on a wednesday at 12:45am? 

“Wait, you're part of the secret soceity, aren't you?” She asked, curiosity filled. 

“One never tells” His eyes drifted to her hands which held the newspapers. Jameson smirked and then spoke. “Good night, Ace” And then he left.

“Wait!” She called and ran after him. “Tell me about it,” She asked.

“Like I said, one never tells” And then he walked away. 

_

Two days later Y/n searched for Jameson everywhere and found him in the cafeteria mixing up random drinks. She slammed a paper on the table.

Jameson looked at it. “Mm, I see you've read my article” He smirked.

“You stole my idea!” She tried not to yell.

“Really?”

“You don't even care about this paper, or the spot.”

“Listen, Ace. We both wrote about the same thing, one just did it better than the other. And the better one gets the spot.” He explained with a sly smirk.

“Because you are a member! Obviously you'd know more than me!” She pointed.

“Better luck next time” He was still smirking.

“Screw you” With that she left. Jameson obviously didn't know why the spot meant so much to her.

_

Jameson noticed that she didn't sit at the usual spot, instead she sat at the back of the class and she looked so tired, almost like she had been crying. He wanted to go and sit next to her but what's the point? He won the game. She is no longer a part of his life, right?

part 2 →

[unsaidthingsj2e]

Promise i don't forget all of my fault in this

Summary : After Jude broke your heart, he can't help but regret how he did it. Loosing his best friend of 10 years is not something he knows how to cope with

a/n : here is part 2 to this fic, probably not what you were expecting but i like it this way better!

english is still not my first language so if any sentence doesn't make sense or if typos are hiding in there, i apologize!! (+ this is even barely proofread sorry)

title is a lyrics from Best by Gracie Abrams

To the eye of anyone else, his life looked like a dream.

With his career predicted to continue its raising towards a legendary peak, a beautiful girl he genuinely was in love with at his side and a promise of everything going his way in life, it seemed like the equation was solved.

The thing is, it was solved, he found x, he had x but he also threw x away, thinking it wasn't necessary to his well-being.

The problem is, x was his ex-lover, ex-best friend, ex-childhood friend. When he made the decision to leave her behind, he thought he did the right thing.

Breaking her heart was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he knew she wouldn't have survived seeing him with a new girl while still being in his life. He knew if given the option, she would've stayed at his side, as a best friend, a friend, an acquaintance. So in his mind, breaking her heart, leaving her with a lost soulmate was the best decision, for her.

He had not anticipated how much it would hurt him as well.

He spent the first week feeling unbelievably lighter. Lying to her, going out with his girl behind her back and cheating were not things he had enjoyed doing. He knew he had no right to be sad or even to complain about anything, being the one doing the cheating and not being cheated on.

He was certain if younger Jude could, he would find a way to travel in time and hunt current Jude down until the end of his days. She used to be so much more than an ex-lover.

Ever since primary school, she had been the only constant thing in his life. He had other friendships that he grew out of, he had girlfriends that wouldn't last enough time for him to even get attached, and he now had fans that would forget about him in a few months. But she was always there, and that's what made him think she was the perfect match for him.

He already loved her and they got along better than any other friends, he knew her inside out and still admired her, he already went through hell and back by her side. It made sense that what he was feeling was romantic love. And perhaps it was at first, or maybe it never was, he could not pinpoint the moment he realized he made a mistake and confused platonic feelings for romantic ones.

It's the fact that she realized so much faster than him that scared him, and that made the process happen so much faster. She managed to watch the light fade from his eyes before he could put a name on what was happening in his head when he looked at her. She noticed the nature of the blank stares he would be stuck in and deep down, she knew.

Tonight marks the third week since he broke her heart, and his guilt laced with longing is eating him alive. Because today was the 22nd of the month, day on which, every month without a miss, they would meet up one way or another to watch movies and gossip and catch up on lost time due to their busy schedules.

It had become a tradition since they were kids, Jude had to conceal football and school and ended up being able to spend less time with her. A June 22nd, she had voiced her worries of him forgetting her in the whole process, so he promised at least every month, she would get a night of his full undivided attention.

It was never just movies, some 22nd's were spent on her house's roof, stargazing while sharing terrifying thoughts about growing up, about feelings taking a meaning, others were spent driving around your hometown, signing along to their shared playlist.

But it always was on the 22nd. Twelve 22nd's a year, twelve nights to ensure their hearts were still each others.

Tonight's 22nd was the first one in eight years they weren't in each other's presence or on a videocall. On this 22nd, Jude decided he had to face his feelings. He was done hiding them and pretending this didn't affect him, he lost someone who was dear to him no matter who was to blame.

Coming home from practice, where his performance were mediocre at best, and ended in his coach voicing his worries about his mood and its affect on his stats lately, Jude was worn off.

Turning his keys in the door lock, his eyes fell down on the red phone cabin keychain he reluctantly kept after she forced him to. He had playfully refused to do so at first, claiming this was too much of a tourist thing to even just buy, let alone display on his keys. But she had argued that this would be a fond way to remember every place they had traveled to.

Not realizing he had been staring at the keys lost in thoughts for a few minutes, not making any moves to enter, a soft voice got him out of this haze.

"Jude, is that you?" He heard his girlfriend ask from the other side of the door, voice uncertain and fear audible

"Yes, yes it's me darling. Sorry about that I kinda zoned out", Jude rushed to explain while opening the door, noting how scary hearing the quiet sound of keys fumbling into the lock would've been from her point of view.

He stepped into his house, immediately face to face with his lover, whom he engulfed into a bone crushing hug almost as quickly.

"Today's the 22nd" he mumbled into her hoodie "It sucked, 'm feeling like shit and I did bad at practice"

One thing he made sure to do with any partner of his, was to make sure they both felt safe enough to share any thought, not wanting to hold the weight of any information by themselves. Therefore, he had told her everything about his feeling about his ex best friend, how much he missed her and everything about their moments ; including the 22nd tradition.

"Yeah, i figured you would- not do bad at practice, feel like shit i meant" she answered while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, simultaneously rubbing comforting circles into his back.

"I just- it's so frustrating. I'm the one who broke things off, I got the fucking good side of things and here I am whining about it.", squeezing her body harder, Jude tried another way to convey the emotions that invaded every cell of his body, feeling like words aren't enough. Before he could continue, she interrupted his rant.

"Jude, hun, we talked about this. You did break things off but it was needed, even she could tell things weren't the same anymore. But she was your best friend, shit like that hurts even if it was the best option at the time", this conversation was held almost every day, he was convinced his feelings were not justified because of the way he handled the situation.

"Yeah, I know, my feelings are valid and all this bullshit, doesn't mean it doesn't feel unfair" he moved from the embrace to take his shoes off, focusing on the task to avoid his lover's eyes "I mean, I miss her so much and it's so selfish considering she's probably in her head overthinking the authenticity of every moment we ever spent together, I'm literally a piece of shit". His shoe laces weren't cooperating, seemingly in sync with his conflicting emotions. With a groan, he gave up, throwing himself on the floor with his back on the door, his head resting on it, looking up the ceiling.

She gently crouched down next to him, rubbing his thigh in hopes to calm him down with the soothing movement. "I won't lie and say she's thriving right now, because let's face the truth, it definitely destroyed her-", at this statement, Jude banged his head on the door, "-but. But it was a shitty situation that needed to be dealt with in a shitty way. You missing her is not you being selfish, get that out of your pretty head."

Now on her knees beside him, she brought her other hand on his cheek, nudging him to make eye contact with her. Her gaze was full of empathy for his internal struggle, understanding his part, but also seeing hers. "Did you-" she stopped for a second when he finally looked back at her, eyes glossy, "Did you think about reaching out to talk to her? I'm aware you don't want to do it because you're scared she'd come back and end up hurting more. But. If not for you, do it for her? You haven't seen her since you broke things off, and she didn't even get the chance to talk, she probably is dying to find closure in a way"

"You're probably right, she deserves it. I'm just not even sure she'd want to meet up though. I wouldn't want to see someone who is as much of a dickhead as I am. Good motives or not, I did this badly." Jude did not lack self awareness concerning this situation. It's because he knows her so well that he knew the words he used would wound her deeply, although unintentionally.

Voice barely above a whisper, he shamefully admits, "Sometimes, I don't even want her to get closure. God that sounds so bad but. I don't want her to forget about me, about us. 10 years of friendship is a fucking long time, I don't want her to wipe this off her memory because I was an asshole"

Not even bothering to correct him, and uselessly try to convince him he isn't an asshole, she instead continued, "Please, talk to her, she probably doesn't want 10 years worth of memory to be tainted by this ugly night. And it's been due, for both of your sake." She felt helpless in front of her boyfriend's misery, and would do anything to help it be less intense and all consuming. "Don't let her spend her first 22nd in eight years all alone, thinking you hate her", slowly detangling his shoe lace and tying it back the right way, she moved to kiss his forehead. "Be patient and let her time to voice her thoughts, yeah?"

He stood up, and took his time to take the woman in front of him in, he felt incredibly lucky this exact second. Any other woman would be fuming with jealousy at the thought of their man going to see their ex-girlfriend that they've known for half their life. He hated to think that getting her had to come with losing his best friend. "Okay, yeah, okay i'm going then. I appreciate you so much for this, thank you for understanding."

a/n : you guys : "part 2 w reader living her best life n Jude wanting her back!!"

me : "how about no?" i actually wrote about 6 different start to this but it always felt off, knowing how brutally Jude left reader?

[countrymusiclover]

9 - Jealously Plan in Motion

Part 10

It’s About Time

Tags just ask - @lover-of-books-and-tea @bvbwestfall l @bubble-blu @liesanddreams @bethanymccauley @skeletonontheroad

“So you’re really thinking that if we pretend to date that it will make him realize he likes you?” Marlowe and I were sitting outside on the front porch swing at my house just talking after school. Georgie had still been perusing Veronica for a few more weeks now.

After talking with Connie,Dr. Sturgis and Missy the plan had seemed fairly straightforward. Marlowe and I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk about it until this Saturday. “Yes. I doubt I can handle pretending to date a jock for that long. And we’ve been friends for awhile so it should be easy enough.”

“I guess that makes sense. I could pretend like I am writing you a song or something.” He suggested since he was hoping once he graduated high school that he and a couple other buddies could start their own band.

I nodded in agreement at what was suggested before seeing Georgie walking down the street. “That’s a great idea. Oh no, we’ll have to think fast. Look who’s coming.”

“I’m on it.” Marlowe noticed our friend at the same time as I had.

Georgie walked up the driveway coming to see the two of us. “Hey, Marlowe, Y/n. What are y'all doing?”

“Just talkin’” Marlowe responded.

Georgie nodded with his hands at his sides. “Cool. I was coming over to see you wanted to watch the Cable I just bought Y/n.”

“I would but you see I'm hanging out with Marlowe so I can't because-”

“Because we're planning on going on our first date tonight.” Marlowe blurts out cutting me off mid-sentence.

Whipping my head around to my other friend I was nearly at a loss of words. “We are?”

“Great. Hey if you want you could double date with me and Jana tonight at Chi-chi's.” Georgie shrugged his shoulders with a half smile on his face.

I asked the first question that popped into my head. “I thought you were trying to date Veronica.”

“I tried to but she never showed any interest. So I decided to just let us be friends and date other girls that seemed interested.” He explained where I clutched my hands into fists until Marlowe placed a hand over my left fist to calm me down before I said something I’d regret.

I parted my mouth open quickly thinking on my feet. “Oh okay. So sure we can go out with y’all. That sounds like fun.”

“Sweet. We’ll be going to the restaurant at six.” Georgie nodded and waved leaving us sitting on the porch when he heard his mom calling him for dinner time.

It was a few hours before we all drove in separate cars with the person we were on a date with. Georgie and Janna had picked a booth sitting across from each other. Marlowe and I did the same thing. “This is nice.” Jana said sliding in the booth first and I slide in after her.

“I like to think of Chi-chi’s as a more romantic Taco Bell.” Georgie responded and I snorted out a laugh.

Marlowe picked up the menu. “So should we get some queso for the table?”

“Sure.” Jana replied.

The waitress came back with our drinks and some queso. I reached for a chip with Georgie doing the same thing causing our hands to touch. “Sorry.” We said in unison.

“You go first.” I drew my hand backwards, blushing.

Georgie focused his gaze on me gesturing to the chip basket and queso bowl. “Nah you go. Ladies first.” I smiled longingly and he smiled at me, letting me feel comfortable since silence fell between us.

“How do you both have the same scar in the exact same spot?” Jana interrupted it, seeing the scars on our wrist since we reached out with our right hands so the cuts were visible.

Marlowe answered before me or Georgie could. “They were playing tag and Y/n cut her wrist after Georgie accidentally made her trip. He felt bad so he cut a scar on his own wrist so they matched and she didn’t feel as bad.”

“That’s cute..” Jana’s voice sounded more annoyed than the thoughtfulness of what he did when we were kids.

Marlowe sent me a cheeky smile and I nervously chuckled alongside my best friend knowing Jana was glaring daggers into the side of my head. “What else are best friends for am I right, Y/n.” The evening went pretty well for the rest of our plan. I could clearly feel Jana didn’t entirely like how the three of us were just having fun. I just hoped that it led something in Georgie’s mind to change about me.

On the other side of town Georgie was taking Jana home after their double date. Yet things weren't going good for the oldest Cooper kid. “Sp you're saying you have no feelings for her at all.”

“I wasn't at the restaurant with her. I was with you.” Georgie argued with his girlfriend Jana.

She shifted in the passenger seat. “That doesn't answer my question.”

“I was hoping you wouldn't pick up on that.”

Jana huffed in annoyance. “Did you invite her on purpose?”

“Hold on a second is this one of those fights where we end up making out in the backseat?” Georgie asked her hopefully.

Jana smacked him on his arm that was closets to hers. “No!”

“That's too bad.”

She snarled in his direction feeling like an idiot for agreeing to go on a date with him. “So you invited her just to be nice. That’s what you're going with?”

“Yes. Why is that a problem?”

She replied back. “Because people who are just friends don't secretly make goo goo eyes at you across the table, idiot!”

“She was not doing that.”

Jana rolls her eyes. “You're lucky your cute cause anyone else can see it a mile away.”

“I don’t think of Y/n in that way. I never have and I don’t think that I ever can.”

He parked the car in her driveway and she got out of the car saying one last thing to him. “Just so you know Georgie I won’t wait around so you need to think about your feelings and who you really want to be your girlfriend.”

Georgie watched her go inside her front door while he turned the engine back on. He gripped the steering wheel sucking in a breath. He sat there in silence thinking about what they had talked about. He couldn’t admit it to himself till later that he might have been falling for his best friend and didn’t know it until that evening.

[ruhorih4ra]

Hello again! 🐏 This is part 13! It contains violence, angst and horrible descriptions of horrible things (why can't I word things better you ask? I'm tired af, my brain is done.)

You may find lots (and I mean it, lots) of grammatical mistakes and inconsistencies (me translating a sentence in spanish to english even tho I don't know if it makes sense xDD upsi).

Get out of my way 🌈

You remembered everything at once, their faces, your own feelings of agony. There was an essential question waiting to be answered. Are these little D.’s here because of your corrupted soul or, maybe, have you been corrupted because of them? Does it really matter? You looked at your hands and then at Lilith, she seemed angry.

“Five times this week!! You couldn't be satisfied with any of them!” You didn't like the sound of that. “What are you implying?!” you asked. Lilith didn't hold back, too emotional after having remembered her brothers’ faces of anguish. “You want to hurt them!! That little demon of greed appeared because you can't get enough, no amount of suffering can satisfy you!! You want to hurt them to the point of no return!!” Each word pierced you more than the previous one, you felt caged between the wall and the sword. You had no shield and Lilith was merciless.

“That's not true.” you said, your voice barely perceptible. “Oh but it is! I begged you to stop!” The former angel wanted to say more but noticed the eerie silence and lugubrious atmosphere. She looked at you and guilt washed her over, you had paled and tears streamed down your face. “Mc, no... I'm sorry. Mc I-”

“Is it true, Lilith? Did they try to hurt our brothers?” Both you and Lilith looked towards the voice, Lucifer's voice.

You hadn't noticed how the Little D.s' chattering stopped, now all of them stood up impersonating the brothers. They were looking at you from their place, a few meters away, standing still in complete silence, with their eyes looking through you. “It's getting cold, we should go home.” You tried to ignore them but something felt wrong.

They seemed dangerous, you felt like a prey under their gaze. “Go home? I thought you didn't want to be part of our family? You don't have a home, do you? Not here.” Lucifer said. You knew he wasn't the real one, but it was getting harder and harder to tell. “Hey! Shut up and go back to your nonsense!” Lilith put a brave front, even though she felt weaker than ever before. “They tried to kill Belphie, Lilith!” Beelzebub said. “I Would never do that, Beel!” you replied. Lilith's eyes widened in desperation. “No, no, no!! He's NOT Beel!”

You couldn't even think about moving, your figure engulfed by darkness on a night with no moon. From behind you felt Mammon's breath and his voice whispering in your ear. “Mc? Is it okay now?” You turned around swiftly and Mammon revealed the figure of Leviathan with his mouth severely sewed. He was paler than usual, and the bruises around the stitches gave him an even worse look.

“Levi!!” you pushed Mammon away and warily took Leviathan's arms, caressing his face and tenderly touching his now half scarred lips. “No, no, Levi! Oh my god, Leviathan! Why did you do this?!”

“Mc! He’s not Leviathan, he’s a Little D!” Lilith screamed.

“Hmmf morm.” Levi tried to answer, both the stitches and the blood prevented it. “Shhh!! Don't talk!! Let me help you.” tears running down your face, the tremor of your hands equalling the one in your voice. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated."

Suddenly, Leviathan forced his mouth open, breaking the stitches and covering you with blood. “For you, Mc. I did it for you.” Shock crossed your face and your mouth dropped.

Lilith stared in horror at your worried figure, to her it was obvious that you couldn’t properly distinguish between her brothers and the Little D.s "MC! Levi is safe. He’s not here!” She walked towards you, but before she could reach you, the Little D. of Pride in the shape of Lucifer took her hand, “I have to thank you, dear sister.” Lilith only watched Lucifer, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer laughed before exhaling a satisfied sigh. “We wanted to push them, we wanted to press all their buttons.” He watched intently to Lilith as his smile grew wide. “But who would have guessed? It was you who did it first, our little sister.” Lilith couldn’t shake Lucifer’s grip, couldn’t escape his eyes. She turned her gaze to you, screaming to get your attention. “Mc! Run!”

You cast spell after spell, but Leviathan’s wounds didn’t heal, on the contrary, they got worse. “Levi, don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” You felt Levi’s blood on your face and the smell filled your nostrils. “Your words can’t cure me, they only make me worse.” He said, and you sobbed, trying to speak but only three words came out. “I’m sorry, Levi.” Your tears mixed with the fake blood of the Little D. of envy, if you weren’t so distraught you would have noticed how the eyes of the little demon glowed with joy and amusement.

“Mc! They are the Little D.’s! Mc!” Lilith shouted with all her will, but it was useless. Your unfocused eyes, your shallow breathing, your red and swollen eyes. “Forget it, Lilith. It's too late for them, you couldn't save them, neither you nor your brothers, not even the prince, no one.” Lucifer said.

“Mc?” Beelzebub touched your arm, momentarily distracting you from Levi’s injuries. “Beel?” You replied, narrowing and rubbing your eyes. “Do you know where Belphie is?” Beel asked. Suddenly you did not hear a sound, you saw Lilith scream but everything was in complete silence. You felt your ears clog and an oppressive atmosphere. Beelzebub grabbed your forearm and squeezed it until you screamed. “Ahhh Beel! Stop!” But his grip tightened, his mouth inches away from your ear. “I obeyed you but I’m still hungry.” Your breath was caught in your throat while your heart fought to escape your rib cage. “W-what?” You murmured before hearing a loud thump at your feet. Slowly, your eyes looked at the object that had fallen.

You wanted to scream, to let out the most horrible, painful scream you had ever heard. Instead, no words came out of your mouth. Only the failed attempts to breathe, only tears running down your face. A million shards of glass stabbing your heart, but you couldn’t even move, as Belphie’s head rolled until his lifeless eyes met yours.

“MC! LOOK AT THEM, LOOK AT HIS EYES! THOSE ARE NOT MY BROTHER’S EYES!!” You heard Lilith’s voice like a soft echo even though you knew she was screaming. You wanted to believe her, but right there, looking straight at Belphegor’s eyes, it was clear to you. Belphie’s purple eyes were looking at you, it was him. Not the completely black eyes of a Little D. but the soft purple color and the speck of pink that fades in between. But if they had color that meant that… no, it couldn’t be real.

“Mc!” Lilith shook off Lucifer’s grip and ran towards you, you tried to meet her halfway, weakly raising your hand towards her, but she vanished before you could touch her. A white mist surrounded you, with the fading voice of Lilith calling you. “L-Lilith?” You could not see a thing, your eyes looked into the white fog searching for anything. Unexpectedly, Asmodeu’s face appeared in front of you. Eyes out of his sockets and a smile from ear to ear. “Booh!”

“AAAHHHHHHH!!” you ran into the woods, no matter if you were blindly running into the night, away from the path and safety you knew. Anything was better than this.

Lucifer had gone to a meeting with Diavolo, they were drinking and he was on his second drink of demonus. He wouldn’t be lying if he said he couldn’t stop thinking about you for even a minute. Where were you? Would you ever forgive them? Was it too late for him?

He yearned for your presence, your laugh and the comfort of your smile pressed against his lips. “I should go now, Diavolo.” he tried to get up but a sharp pain shot through his chest, right where the mark of your pact it’s located. Diavolo hadn't heard Lucifer's groans of pain in a while, he was at his friend's side in seconds. “Lucifer!? What's happening!?” The Avatar of pride tore his shirt in a feeble attempt to ease the pain, he looked everywhere searching for you. You were calling him, he could feel you all over the place and then nowhere. “Lucifer!?” Diavolo's voice carried urgency, he could smell the burning skin of Lucifer.

“M-mc is in danger.” Lucifer murmured, trying to breathe. Diavolo cast a glance towards Barbatos, but it was not necessary as the butler was already on his way.

Mammon was laying on your bed waiting for your return when the pain hit him, his chest burning and his back arching painfully until his knees touched his forehead. Although it was paralyzing, Mammon changed into his demon form and quickly left the house of lamentation, frantically looking into the darkness of the devildom’s night. “MC!!!” His voice was desperate, loud and frantic. “Treasure!!” The pain increased and forced him to fall on his knees, but he never stopped calling your name.

Satan watched how Asmodeus’ eyes widened just to quickly close again, how the pupils of the demon of lust dilated as he tried to breathe. “Mc!” Asmo gasped, before falling abruptly. “Asmo!” Satan squatted down but the feeling of your burning pact stopped him, his mind became blurry and from one moment to the next the only thing in his field of vision was the ground. “We have to help them! We…”

You couldn’t see anything, the branches hit your face and scratched your skin to the point of bleeding, but that didn’t stop you. Your legs burned from the effort, you weren’t aware of how much you ran but it didn’t feel like it was enough. “I’m sorry Lucifer!” you screamed, but it wasn’t as loud as you wanted, you were out of breath and the cold air was painful to breathe. “I’m sorry, Levi!” You said. Your legs couldn’t run anymore, but you kept walking, pushing your limits. “I’m sorry, Belphie!” You murmured, no longer moving. “I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m sorry, Belphie!” The eyes of the avatar of sloth opened, was it because of the nightmare? Was it because of the intolerable pain in his chest? He didn’t care, he was awake and you weren’t there. He tried to move, but it was impossible, something similar to sleep paralysis. “Mc!!” he cried. “Beel!” he tried again. When he managed to move, the first thing he saw was his twin gasping form, unable to move or pronunce a word. Beelzebub didn’t need to say a word for Belphie to understand, they were feeling the same, you were on danger. You were here with them, you were far away, gone.

Leviathan felt a burning sensation in his chest, fire blazing his skin. However, when he sensed your pact, he felt cold. As if the water seeped into his lungs and sank him into the ocean, cold and alone. And above all that, you. You asking for his help from the surface. “Mc?” Your call through the pacts grew in intensity and the pain did the same.

You wanted to call them, to say sorry and speak the truth. You wanted them to come for you, but at the same time you were afraid. Afraid because you had their lives in your hands and they were ready to give in. No, you couldn’t call them even if that’s what you desired the most.

Something moved behind you, you tried to fight but you were too slow to react. Too slow and too weak, your legs could no longer support you and you fell, who knows where.

Part 14? ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @sadlily1 @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl

Thanks for reading! ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ I do have something else to say. I have to prepare for my finals and so I won't be able to update for at least a month ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ Having said that... Mc is fine y'all (maybe???), next part it's 75% comfort (maybe?? xD), see you!! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[petrich0-r]

warning!!! long rant incoming

weeks later and i am still not over how much reading chapter 426 traumatized me. seeing touya reduced to a what??? burnt-up corpse strapped to a wall and on life support, barely breathing and with no hope of recovery, with only a bleak "slow march toward death" ahead of him was only the first blow.

then we see the todofam marching into the hospital determined to "talk with him" while he can barely string together a few sentences and is strapped to a heart monitor in a way that invasively reveals his true feelings of upset/excitement/anixety at whatever they feel like talking to him about, which was personally mortifying to witness.

one of the FIRST things he says is how he isn't "some damn tourist attraction" for them to come gawk at and talk at to make themselves feel better. and yes even though most of my ire is directed at enji i still dislike how the rest of the family acted in this chapter. all determined to say their piece now that he's forced to stay there and listen to them, and even shouto's part in all of it being framed as him "saving" touya and making time for them all to have together while he is DYING an AGONIZING and SLOW death. also natsuo not even saying anything to touya even though he was the only one to ever advocate for him and constantly remind everyone in the family of what happened to his brother and demanding justice from enji. although if i interpret this as him recognizing that talking with touya now would only violate his privacy since he can't hide his feelings because of the heart monitor his behaviour is the only one that makes sense.

enji once again taking the opportunity to talk about what HE is doing to atone for "his sins", in a way that fills me with such indescribable rage and fury at this man's audacity to even show his face to any member of his family and makes me once again want to kill him with my bare hands because i am SICK and TIRED of hearing about his "atonement" and "rejection". and even though natsuo renounces him definitively once and for all once they exit the hospital, he also says he thinks enji is a "badass" now???? EXCUSE. ME. also shouto calling him "father" still makes me want to puke i'm sorry.

to rub salt into the wound the chapter then switches to hawks talking with nagant who is now fully recovered?? from literally exploding??? in a parody of what i hoped a final dabihawks interaction was going to be. but i guess only heroes and "good" victims get to live and have miraculous recoveries in this story.

another thing that makes me livid is this trend horikoshi has set of showcasing touya in pivotal panels as not-being-burnt-to-a-crisp so he can?? what??? show us his imagined facial expressions better??? idk it just feels so disingenuous to him being crippled, burnt to death, stripped of all bodily autonomy, irreversibly and gruesomly injured only for horikoshi to take the easy way out when he wants to show emotions on his face so we can what?? see him as a person still and not a disfigured corpse???? i don't get it.

as someone who up until those chapters at the end where horikoshi decided that yes izuku should absolutely vanquish tomura was very hopeful about bnha's ending and where it was headed and what kind of story it wanted to tell i feel immeasurably and utterly betrayed and furious at what happened to the remaining lov characters. touya's end is a nightmare scenario on a personal level but what tomura's character went through at the end felt like a complete butchering of everything he as a character stood for. and don't get me started on himiko, a fucking TEENAGE GIRL who i was SURE would get to live if nobody else from the league did. but those are rants for another post.

my final thoughts for this rant are musings on whether horikoshi is aware how hurtful and trauma-inducing chapter 426 is. i struggle to grasp how he could write such a nuanced character without apparently knowing the first thing about how to resolve their story in a satisfying way. whether or not he waffled on how he should end bnha and then chickened out on its "true/controversial/revolutionary" ending i can only speculate but at this point i don't even care because the fact is he CHOSE to end the story this way and i have no idea what the point of it all even was anymore and i am tired and rant over because i've been rambling like a lunatic for way too long now

anyway sorry if this doesn't make a lick of sense idk what i'm saying or trying to articulate here, this is my first post of this length and i was gonna keep it all inside but i felt i had to let it out somehow. if u got this far thank you for reading this and have a good day <33

[alrxiin]

"Losing My Mind"

Sam x Darlin' (GN! reader) || angst

TW's : Non-consensual turning, blood, mild character violence, emotional distress, Sam going off the deep end.

Summary : It's been a while since your talk with Sam, and his fears have been slowly making him worse and worse... He one day comes home and when you don't respond, his paranoia takes over.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

It was a normal night at work, and a calm way back home. Nothing in the world could have been wrong, nothing but Samuel's own mind.

Ever since the Vamp had a talk with his lover, his already worried thoughts of the Shifter somehow leaving him earlier than anyone could have predicted, have at least tripled in the last weeks.

Unlocking the house, he slid off his shoes and hung his jacket up beside the door with a soft call-out to his love.

- "Darlin', I'm home." — Yet he received no reply.

It should've been normal, since it was still night, and they were most likely still asleep in their shared bed.

The only wrong thing was his now overflowing thoughts. Worry shot through the man and he started his search, going from one room to another only to see no sign of the Werewolf.

His callings went on deaf ears as Darlin' slept on the couch, a pair of earphones in their ears, playing music to keep them occupied, had only made them fall asleep waiting for Sam.

When the, now completely panicked, Vamp had finally found his mate on the couch, all bad thoughts jumped into his head with a renewed power.

He knelt down beside the couch, gently shaking Darlin'. Seeing as they slept heavily from the overthinking of their last talk, shaking them seemed to have no affect for a while, only when their mate had gone into something like a manic episode, had they stirred awake.

- "Sam?.. You're home?" — Their sentence gets cut short as he brings them into a tight hug.

- "Holy shit, you gave me a heart attack Darlin'." — He nuzzles his face into their neck, shivering when he feels the blood glowing under their skin. So close yet so far.

- "What? How, I don't think I did anything... Are you alright?" — Worried for their mate, they gently pulled Sam's face away from their neck, earning a soft almost growl from the man, confusing them even more.

- "Sam?–" —

- "Darlin', I don't think I can keep going like this." — His voice strangely stern, the Shifter couldn't help but look at him almost hurt.

- "What do you mean? Love, please, now you're giving me a heart attack." — They chuckled awkwardly, trying to de-stress themselves at least a bit.

- "I can't bare being worried about you every day. I can't lose you... I won't lose you." —

Before they could get any word out, the Vamp pinned Darlin' to the couch as softly as he could, his overpowering strength finally showing as they let out a yelp of surprise, squirming under his touch.

- "Sam, what's going on with you?!.." — But he didn't seem to hear them, or at least didn't want to.

- "I'm so sorry Darlin'. But I can't let you leave me, I've been so close to losing you, too many times to count." — As they looked up into his eyes, there was no Samuel there, only red piercing eyes staring into theirs. He put his hand up to his mouth, and perfectly on command his fangs popped out, piercing his skin.

As blood flowed, he put the bleeding hand on Darlin's mouth, forcing it open as gently as he could make himself in the state he was in. He leaned down, ignoring the whimpers of his sweet mate and pulling their head to the side.

- "This has to be done, Darlin'..." — Was the last thing he whispered out in a falsely comforting tone, before sinking his fangs into his lovers neck.

Blood flowed into his mouth, an overpowering metallic taste sending sparks down his back. And at the same, Darlin' drank from his hand, the Vamp's blood strangely tasty yet unwanted.

When he pulled away panting, they were dizzy, but not dizzy enough. As Sam was finally coming back to his senses, they put the last bit of their power into work, bringing themselves to half-shift and push the Vampire off of them.

With tears in their eyes, they stumbled to their feet, looking down at the man in betrayal.

This wasn't the Samuel they loved, the one who was so gentle, and who always assured he would never mistreat them like a certain rogue Vampire had back in the day.

- "What the fuck is wrong with you?.." — Were the first words coming out of their mouth, a hand on their neck where Sam had bit them, blood still flowing.

- "Darlin'–" —

- "Don't even try that with me, Samuel. I learned my lesson with Quinn and I'm not gonna let myself get hurt again..." — Unsure on what to do, he only looked up at them in shock, bits of blood still tingling on his lips.

- "I can't believe you, after everything... You only turned out like him." — They sniffled, quickly turning around on their heel and bolting it out of the mans house, leaving him with a sting in his heart and an overwhelming awareness if what he had done.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

That was the day Darlin' had lost their love, and the ability to shift...the only thing that they could have been proud of themselves for. In their eyes, the pack would never see them as family again, and so they left Dahlia for the last time, alone.

With Sam...Their once shared house now so empty again, the Shifters things were still scattered all around from the decorating they have done over the years, for they haven't come back for them. Days had gone by, turning into weeks, and Sam was yet again left alone in the woods.

The loneliness he once wanted and cherished so bad, now bringing him down with every day, and the moment he betrayed his love replaying in his mind.

"You were so afraid to lose me in years after, you had lost me even sooner. I am no longer Darlin', I am Tank to you."

That's the message he had gotten from them, spoken through William when he had to meet with him.

Like Maker, like Prodigy... right?

[love-hatred-stuff]

can't forgive you

Just some angst to go {break up}

It's been in my drafts forever, I don't like it that much but I figured it wouldn't hurt to just post it

“Why am I the only one that puts effort into our relationship, James?” You asked, sad eyes, just being tired of his constant mood swings.

“You’ve missed our third date now. Why?" No answer. Not that you expected one.

"Look, I know you're busy with work and stuff, but it’s not like I don't have a job aswell. And I won’t continue just forgiving you again and again.”

Bucky sighed, slightly annoyed that you had such a big problemwith this. “I already apologised! How many times do you want me to repeat that?” He looked away again, busy with his phone.

He was crossing a line now, you thought. You always gave up everything to spend time with him. But now it seemed like he never sacrificed anything for you, not even his freetime. And that hurt you pretty goddamn much. Before all of this he was always the sweetest and cared for you deeply, was protective, found it important to make sure you felt loved. It didn’t feel like that at all anymore. “It doesn’t matter if you already apologised or not when you didn't mean it. You’re not even looking at me.” You stated, not in the mood to let it go another time, you've had enough of his insensitivity.

Now he looked up at you, sensing that you weren’t gonna let it go that easily this time.

”I’m sorry, really. I’m sad aswell that we can’t spend as much time together as we used to. But I guess that's what happens when you mature and get older.”

You scoffed, was he serious right now? “No, that’s not what happens. But if you think it’s okay to always put work before the ones you love, then I don't want this anymore.” You spoke with a monotone voice.

James started to realise what you just said, afraid you might actually be serious. “Babe, you don't mean that.” He tried to save the situation.

“Yes, I do. I can't forgive you. I feel like you don’t deserve it anymore. You stopped loving me, didn’t you?”

He was fast to get to you and take your hands in his, letting his phone be, finally. “No, no, that’s not true, baby. I still love you as much as ever. You’re my only one. I would give up everything to be with you, I promise.”

You shook him off you and looked at the floor. “I think it’s best if we take a break or something.” You sighed, this wasn’t easy for you either, you were still in love with him.

He panicked. “God, baby no, don’t do this please. I’m sorry and I mean it. We can plan our next date and I promise you I’ll be there. But don’t break up with me.” He held your hands again already, desperately trying to convince you.

“Stop touching me, James.”

That sentence made him freeze and his heart sting. He let go of you, getting teary eyed. “Forgive me, baby. I know I wasn’t the best boyfriend the last few weeks, but I will do anything to make it up to you, okay?”

You could practically feel the desperation in his glossy eyes.

You shook you head, considering his offer and apology. It was too hard to do so though, you knew he meant it, but did he deserve your mercy? After what he did, after he ignored your requests without a care?

"Yeah you're actually right, Buck. You weren't the best boyfriend at all, for a long time now. You were the exact opposite of it. You didn't even gave me a kiss or anything after you came home later than usual. Your face was emotionless and it pained me so much when I saw how you looked at me, which you rarely did. What do you expect me to think when everything you do is without any effort, without a care how I feel? How can I not believe you don't love anymore when you act this way? You hurt me badly., made me feel lonely, although you once promised me you would hold my heart forever and cherish the love I give you. And now my heart needs time to heal. I hope you can understand." While your words felt like someone was brutally stabbing him repeatedly into his chest, you gave up to think he would apologise sincerely.

"I- I'm sorry Y/n. I still love you! I promise, this is the last time that I'll be a horrible person and boyfriend. I will put everything into this! I swear on everything that I can swear on, you are my whole world. Please dont do this, doll." He suddenly did came to speak, grabbing your wrists while helplessly looking at you with begging eyes.

You looked away, finding it hard not to cry out loud along him. He meant so much to you, it never changed. But will he be able to make you happy again?

"I need a break, James. I'm sorry." You didn't had to apologise to him, you knew that, but you felt like giving him some type of apology for leaving him, although your statement made his condition even worse. He had to sit down for a while, only nodding, understanding why you needed to get away from him.

He couldn't believe what he did to you.

[introspectivememories]

I FORGOT I EVEN SENT THAT ASK AND YOUR RESPONSE HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK OHMSYGODDFJDJ

I seriously love your writing so much you always put a heap of emotion into it 😭😭

also adore the idea of TIM being the one who's obsessed with bear and going to such lengths just to keep seeing him, I tend to prefer happy endings so I like to think they work it out after a while but like also the angst is amazing

god the amount of yearning in this au makes me so mmmpfhhhf

god im just so sorry that it took me soo long to reply!!! you sent just as i was taking my break from tumblr and other social media :(((

i remember reading it and thinking to myself "god if i had the timbern brainworms, i could write smth for this" but then recently they've been coming back and i was a church bored out of my mind when i was like "hmmm maybe i should respond?"

and ohhh my god, when i first got it, i immediately thought about how toxic it could get and like, personally, i feel like i can't write complicated characters? if that makes sense? to me, im not very good at writing multi-dimensional characters. which to be fair, i never set out to become like a pulitzer prize winning author. i just do this for fun haha.

and like i knew that my answer to your ask was always gonna be toxic timbern but i didn't know if i could write it? ig??? bc like tim is a good person. he is!!! he just wants bear so badly. and it's past the initial physical attraction now.

he and bear are all grown up. he likes bear's wit and humor, well the wit and humor he gets to hear when bear doesn't know he's around. but bear wont let him in!!!! bear wont open himself up and tim's apologized!!!! he did!!! he doesn't even know what he did and he still apologized!!!!! and it changed nothing. bear doesn't talk to him or look at him or anything. nothing but polite professionalism.

and then one day, he sees bear on his balcony as he's swinging through the streets of gotham. and bear isn't doing anything special, he's just sitting there in sweats and no shirt and the moonlight hits his pecs just right and his shoulders are so broad and-

well he cant be blamed for stopping to take a peek, right? and maybe when he has has time he swings by more and more. just watching for longer and longer, until one day bear catches him. and as they stare at each other from opposite sides of the street, tim thinks this is it. the cold glances and frosty words are going to come back. bear's never gonna just sit on his balcony again. he's lost this too. but then-

oh.

bear sends him a hesitant wave and tim raises a trembling hand to wave back. and bear- well bear's mouth splits into a smile brilliant enough to rival the sun. beautiful like the sunrise. the promise of a new beginning. if he closes his eyes, tim thinks he can feel the sunlight's warm rays on him.

hes' hooked after that. he comes around again and again. one day bear lets him on the balcony. weeks later, bear's hugging him. weeks after that, tim's in bear's lap. and he knows it's not right. that bear thinks he's someone else. that bear doesnt want anything to do with him but how is he supposed to let this go? how is he supposed disentangle himself from bear's arms?

so he lies and he lies and he prays to any and every god he can think of, that he'll get to keep this. plus he's not really lying to bear, he's just... not talking about it! if bear asks, he'll tell him point blank. he swears it. but that's a problem for another day. things are looking up! bear said more than 5 sentences to him the other day and yesterday? he even got a small smile. it'll all work out. he'll be fine.

[oh-hell-help-me]

Day 10: Fangs

Luigi had a hard time with sleep.

It’s not that he can’t sleep, but…

Every time he sleeps, he dreams of… something dark. Something that almost seems alive but empty, feeling it gently envelop him and he just…

Sinks.

He wakes up gasping for air, heart pounding against his rib cage like a jackhammer, and he doesn’t know why.

(And after… after, his scar would throb too.)

Three weeks into his job as an Ambassador, that fact hasn’t changed.

Except…

Bowser has taken his new ‘task’ seriously, and Luigi was worried about falling asleep on him!

It didn’t help that the Koopa was so warm and safe (and that Luigi is so utterly doomed with Bowser)!

Regardless, his efforts were in vain, and -in the middle of a meeting- he dropped off into a catnap, cheek pressed against warm scales as he slept.

Then he woke up. Just, normally?

Sure, the large claw poking his cheek was annoying, but if felt like a fair trade off.

“Come on, string bean. Wake up.”

And then he opened his eyes.

Fangs.

Large, sharp fangs, barely two inches from his face.

Had he been scared, he would have flinched, or jumped, or yelled- something he could brush off as him being him!

Instead, Luigi sleepily reached up and stroked them with the same amount of self-preservation one has petting a cat’s belly.

He freezes.

Bowser’s staring. At HIM! With an indescribable look that nearly has him squirming.

This is worse.

This is so, SO much worse!

He wants the earth to swallow him whole.

AND WHY HASN’T BOWSER SAID ANYTHING?

…. Why hasn’t he said anything yet?

Braving the possibility of dying from embarrassment (and why is his hand still there?), Luigi drags his gaze back to Bowser’s red eyes.

...

He still doesn’t know what the Koopa is feeling, but at least he doesn’t seem angry?

Staring into his eyes was a bit like sinking into that dreamed blackness, but more... comforting? Maybe intense? Definitely something more- something that made Luigi forget to breathe-

…He, um, thinks he shocked him.

Bowser was aware that Luigi was as stubborn as he was sweet.

He knew that it meant that he was a wonderful friend, being dead set on learning whatever Bowser was willing to tell about himself.

He also knew that it meant that anything that made the human curious was met with zero self-preservation (seriously, how did the red menace keep him alive this long?).

So why couldn't he shake off this moment?

Why…?

Why did he like it so much?

Those were his teeth, his FANGS, one of the most deadliest parts of himself!

He couldn’t feel anything with them, and it’s not like there was a taboo of touching them (not like a tail, or neck-)! So why-?

He should start by closing his mouth, but with the human's hand still very much there-

Oh, right.

Bowser carefully leans away from the touch, almost feeling a sense of disappointment relief as Luigi seems to snap out of it with a yelp.

He does, however, take offense when Luigi tries to squirm out his grip, needlessly apologizing in rapid-fire words he can barely make out.

"Ah-ah-ah! You're not getting out from your sentence, Greenie!" He hooks a single hand around the human, careful to curl his thumb behind Luigi's head in fear of his claws. "I know I'm handsome, but I didn't realize you're into m-my teeth as well!"

No. The Koopa King did NOT stutter!

Still, Luigi's mortification is palpable in the way he turned fully red, blue eyes looking anywhere BUT the Koopa as his hands fiddled with each other.

"I-I'm s-sorry. I h-hadn't realized I was- sorry..."

Bowser frowned.

He hasn't heard Luigi stutter since... that library day, now that he thinks of it, and he honestly hadn't realized the significance of Luigi stuttering at all in his presence.

He finds that he doesn't like it.

"Doesn't matter." He'll.. deal with these thoughts later. First and foremost: "Now come on, we're going to be late for lunch!"

And no, Bowser didn't need to wake Luigi up to take him to the dining hall, but he did want to see Luigi's never-changing awe as they went inside. And he can't see that if the human is asleep now, can he?

"L-lunch?" He could feel the human shift in his grip as he turns his attention to opening the Meeting Room doors. "MAMA MIA! I SLEPT THAT LONG!?"

He couldn't help but snort. "You conked out during the boring bits. Trust me, you weren't missing much."

A glance towards the pouting human nearly has him snicker. "But that was rude! I was rude!" Luigi hung his head. "Ooohh. How am I supposed to face that Ambassador now?"

Something in Bowser's chest warmed, and he was barely aware of his expression when he replies "They gave you a break, Luigi."

The former(?) plumber peaks up at him. "But I-"

"Don't tell me that you haven't been 'doing as much'! You've been heading negotiations since day one!" Bowser is pretty sure that half of the petty arguments made by both him and the ambassadors would have been... messy if not for Luigi's interventions. "And don't dare tell me that you haven't been staying up late either!"

THAT gets the human to shut his mouth with a snap, looking away once more.

Even if Bowser wasn't as awesomely observant as he is, the other Ambassadors were nosey enough to inquire about Luigi's activities.

That is, the human had taken upon himself the task to not only study the Kingdom's history (which is required for all diplomats), but he has also taken the time to study Koopa inventions, methodologies, projects, and even past mechanical failures that could be used for The Plan.

More often than not, Bowser was 'babysitting' him at the library too, but ended up asleep at his favorite armchair after each visit. Stars know how long Luigi slept...

"So don't worry your pretty head about it!" As he opens the door, he barely catches a glimpse of surprise on Luigi's face before he started to take in the Dining Hall once more.

Bowser tries not to think about what he just said.