#though you could be remembering a different version

[lizzieolseniskinda]

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 2

part one | two - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

(requests open)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 3745

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: soulmate & time travel au, english is not my first language

NOT PROOFREAD :D

the corridors of hogwarts were eerily quiet - almost too quiet in the early morning light. you wandered around hogwarts, taking in the atmosphere. it was just how you remembered how life was before the war. but you had to act as if you didn't know, act as if you didn't know your way around hogwarts. your heart was still racing from the overwhelming disorientation of time travel. the walls seemed taller, the stones beneath you felt somewhat smoother. it felt the same but yet so different at the same time.

you had no clue what to do next, the task laid plain ahead of you - find tom riddle and alter the course of his life by becoming his big love. you shook your head, you knew how time travel had a big effect in the timeline. you never took muggle studies - physics - but you knew what this could do. once he sees you, it's done. there's no going back, well it's not like you could turn back whenever you wanted.

but, it was like hermione said, 'no one is supposed to see you' but only this time it was different. if you didn't change tom riddle for the better - you could make him even worse then he was in your time.

"i believe you may be a bit out of place, my dear."

you stopped dead in your tracks, your heart almost leaped out of your chest. the voice was warm, kind, but still serious. you recognized the voice, you turned and saw dumbledore standing there. a somewhat younger version.

you knew he was still a professor in this year, his auburn hair was tinged with a lot of strands of silver, his robes a deep shade of purple. his piercing blue eyes gleamed with curiosity and suspicion as he looked at you. he raised an eyebrow and his lips curled into a gentle, knowing smile. you wanted to slap him, angry for making you do this, while telling you absolutely nothing.

"you look as though you've been wandering these halls for quite some time," he continued, stepping toward you. "and yet, i don't recall seeing you in any of my classes."

you swallowed hard, your mind scrambling for a good answer, but you came up empty handed. dumbledore's gaze was patient, waiting for you to speak.

"uhh... i-" you began, voice shaking softly, but you stopped. what could you say? what were you supposed to say? that you had just traveled back into the past to stop one of his students from becoming the biggest and darkest wizard of all time?

dumbledore's eyes softened, "why don't we take this conversation somewhere a bit more private?" he suggested, his tone gentle. "i have a feeling there's more to your story than a lost stroll through the castle."

without waiting for your response, dumbledore turned around, motioning for you to follow him. you hesitated for a second, but the calmness in his demeanor somehow reassured you. reluctantly, you followed him down the corridor, your footsteps echoing softly in the stillness of the morning.

after a while, you arrived at an empty classroom, the large wooden door creaking as dumbledore pushed it open. sunlight entered through the tall, narrow windows, casting long shadows across the rows of desks. the air was filled with a faint scent of parchment and chalk, just like his.

dumbledore gestured to a chair near the front. "please, sit down. make yourself comfortable."

you did ask he asked, feeling out of place in this familiar yet unfamiliar world. dumbledore remained standing in front of your desk for a moment. studying you with those sharp, calculating eyes. "there is something... remarkable about you," he said quietly, his voice kind. "you're not quite where you're supposed to be, are you?"

you looked at your shoes, you realised you also didn't really look the part to only be lost. "no," you admitted. you knew lying to a man like dumbledore would do you no good. "i'm.. not?" you said unsure.

dumbledore nodded, as if he expected that answer. "time," he mused, his eyes twinkling with understanding. "it has a peculiar way of bending when we least expect it."

your head snapped up, meeting his gaze. he knew. he definitely knew. "how?" you breathed, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself from talking. "how did you-"

dumbledore raised his hand to quiet you, "i have my ways," he smiled. "but more importantly, it seems you have a very important reason for being here."

you swallowed, feeling the enormity of your 'mission' pressed down on you, but in dumbledore's presence, it felt a little less overwhelming - though you were still angry he didn't tell you anything sooner. he waited, giving you space to explain.

after a pause, you spoke again. "i was sent.. to change something. something that will affect the future," you hesitated, unsure how much you were allowed to reveal. "it's about tom riddle."

at the mention of riddle's name, dumbledore's expression didn't change, but you saw the smallest change in his demeanor. his gaze become more focused, and he leaned forward slightly.

"tom", he repeated softly. "yes... i've always known there was something... special about that boy."

special? more like dangerous. you nodded, "if i don't change him, if i can't make him different... the world will fall into darkness. everyone i love, my friends..." you stopped. your parents. you hadn't even thought of them. your heart started banging in your chest, you wanted to go back. tell them that you were grateful for everything, and that you were sorry for leaving them behind out of nowhere.

dumbledore didn't react with surprise, he nodded. "do not worry about your friends or family." he sighed softly. "you have been given a great responsibility. but changing the course of someone's life is no simple task, especially when that person's soul is... so deeply marked."

you looked down at your hands, "i don't even know if it's possible."

for a moment, dumbledore was silent, his gaze fixed on you with empathy. "nothing is impossible, but you must remember, even the darkest of souls have their choices. tom riddle's path has always been his own. you may be able to guide him... but ultimately, it is up to him who or what he becomes."

his words hung in the air, a reminder of what you were facing. "know that, i will be watching, and if you ever need guidance, you know where to find me."

dumbledore had insisted on introducing you to the Headmaster as a transfer student, emphasizing that no one could know the truth. the fewer people involved in the truth, the better.

you made your way through the corridors of hogwarts with dumbledore. students were scattered around, laughing, talking in hushed voices, completely unaware of the darkness that would be coming.

dumbledore said the password to the headmasters office, it was the same as he had. so original. the spiral staircase came into view as the gargoyle's started moving. you followed your former headmaster up the stairs. the office was filled with old books, a large desk, and a few moving portraits on the walls. it was looked almost the same like dumbledore's office.

behind the desk sat headmaster armando dippet, a tall, thin man with kind eyes. "ah, albus," dippet said, rising from his seat to greet him. "what brings you here?"

dumbledore gestured to you. "headmaster, i would like to introduce you our newest transfer student." he gave you a small nod to encourage you to take a step forward. "she's come from beauxbatons and will be joining us for the rest of her schooling."

dippet's eyebrows rose in surprise. "a transfer from beauxbatons? how delightful! we don't often have students join us from abroad." he looked at you. "what is your name, my dear?"

you swallowed, your nerves tightening your throat, "y/n l/n." you smiled at the headmaster, "i'm honored to be here."

"it's always wonderful to have new students join us at hogwarts. the castle can seem quite large and scary at first, but i'm very sure you'll grow accustomed to it in no time," dippet smiled at you.

you forced back a smile. normally, you would love such pleasantries, but now? absolutely not, it felt as if you wanted to throw up.

dumbledore stepped forward, "headmaster, i've already informed y/n of the basic rules and traditions of the school, but i do believe the sorting hat will handle the rest?"

"indeed," dippet nodded, motioning to a nearby shelf where the sorting hat was in its usual place. "no time like the present."

your heart raced when the sorting hat was placed upon your head. you knew what house you had once belonged to, but would it be hte same here? in this time?

"hmm.." the hat murmured after whining about who dared to wake him up. "interesting... very interesting. you're not like the others i've sorted. ever."

you held your breath.

"i see loyalty.. with a lot of bravery." the had mused, "a fierce desire to do what's right, even when it's proven difficult. courage, and there's something more than that... something deeper.."

did it know? you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, huffing out a breath.

"ah," it whispered. "but that is not for me to uncover. your place, however, is clear."

another moment passed, and then the hat shouted, "gryffindor!"

the word rang in your ears, you weren't placed in the same house. your former house was hufflepuff, what changed? the house of loyalty, hard work, and kindness. maybe this could help ground you. most hufflepuffs you knew where, kind (mostly high as well) and helpful. there were always exceptions but, you were happy with that house.

dippet clapped his hands together, clearly pleased. "a gryffindor! a fine choice indeed. you'll find good company there."

dumbledore's expression remained calm. "it seems that your path is set," he said quietly, his eyes twinkling with that wisdom he always had.

as the hat was lifted from your head, you stood up from the stool you had taken a seat on. gryffindor. it was unexpected, but not wrong - or bad. in some way, it made sense for you. you needed to be brave to talk to tom riddle. so, what better house for that than gryffindor?

the headmaster waved his wand, and a piece of parchment floated over to you. "here's your timetable, y/n," he said, handing it over to you. "you'll begin classes immediately. i'm sure the others will help you find your way.

you took the parchment, scanning the schedule, you had loads of free periods, and as always an astronomy class at midnight on a friday night.

"thank you, headmaster," you said quietly, tucking the parchment under your arm.

dippet smiled. "welcome to hogwarts, y/n. i hope your time here will be both enlightening and rewarding."

"i sure hope so," you nodded. rewarding. you could use the reward of going home.

you and dumbledore left the office, going down the staircase the air felt cooler. dumbledore walked beside you, in silence.

"so, you've been placed in gryffindor," dumbledore broke the silence. "a good choice. you'll find community of loyalty and bravery there."

you nodded, "i didn't expect it."

"sometimes," dumbledore said with a smile," the unexpected paths are the ones that lead us exactly where we need to go. you have been given a second chance, in more ways than one."

"and remember," he said softly. "the fewer people who know your true purpose, the better. riddle must never know why you're really here."

you nodded.

when you stepped inside the gryffindor common room, you immediately felt the warmth. there was a soft red glow from the lanterns, walls were lined with rewards and books. the smell of fresh cookies hung in the air.

a group of students were clustered around a table and looked up as you entered. it was already early in the morning, you wondered why most students were up this time in the morning. the faces of the students were curious but friendly, a wave of relief washed over you. before you could take another step, a girl with curly dark hair and a wide smile broke away from the group.

"hi!" she greeted enthusiastically, her eyes open wide with interest. "you must be the new transfer student! i'm maeve, maeve miller."

you tried your best not to grimace, as you forced a smile. "i'm y/n l/n." the realisation of having to meet and make new friends downed on you even harder.

"professor dippet had owled us. we were all curious, y'know? transfer students aren't that common. you're lucky it's the start of the school year!"

you smiled at maeve's happiness, but you were still baffled at how fast news spreads in hogwarts. i mean you literally just left dippet's office.

"i'll make sure you fit right in, i'll show you to the dormitory," maeve smiled.

you followed her to a spiral staircase, as you walked with maeve, she chatted happily about the house traditions, the upcoming quidditch match, and the best way to sneak extra food from the kitchen.

once you reached the dormitory, you found yourself in a circular room with soft, warm lighting. you saw only one vacant bed - in the middle - with your belongings neatly placed beside it. a suitcase you had recognized, though it felt strange seeing it here. you basically came empty handed here, so how are all your belongings here then?

"how..?" you trailed off, confused.

maeve, caught your confusion. "professor dumbledore's pretty amazing, isn't he? he made sure your belongings were here from yesterday evening. must've used some magic to get your stuff here so quickly."

you nodded, even more confused. you didn't even know you had to time travel yesterday. you had no idea how, and you didn't want to think too much about it before it might drive you mad.

"so, obviously, that's your bed," maeve pointed towards the bed with your belongings on. "and this is mine," she added, pointing to the bed next to yours. "we'll be neighbors! oh, and these are your other roommates."

two other girls approached, one with long red hair and freckles, and the other with short brown curls. they introduced themselves as alicia and lilith, both offering you warm welcoming smiles.

"nice to meet you," alicia said, while lilith gave you a small, shy wave. "it's so exciting to have someone new join us, especially in our fifth year!"

"i'm glad to be here!" you lied right through your teeth. "well, we're heading to breakfast in a bit if you want to join us," alicia offered. "but i'm sure you'll want to settle in first."

"yeah, you guys go ahead, i'll catch up with you in a while," you replied with a nod and a smile.

as the girls made their way out, leaving you alone, you felt disoriented. this was all going too fast. you needed a moment to yourself, normally you would've already been in your last year. you made your way over to the small adjoining bathroom. the light was bright. you stepped in front of the large mirror, ready to see your face full of scars and dirt you got from the war.

but no, your fingers trembled slightly as you reached up to touch your face. staring back at you was a younger version of yourself - exactly as you had looked in your own fifth year at hogwarts. your features were softer, untouched by the weight of the war. your eyes looked brighter.. they hadn't seen the horrors that awaited. no pair of eyes should see a war go down.

it was all surreal, like looking at a stranger. it was clear the potion had not only sent you back in time, but also transformed you to match the age you needed to be.

for a moment, the reflection blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. you had been thrust back into your younger self, in a world you didn't belong in. you took a deep breath, swallowing the fears and tears away. you could do this. you had to do this. for your friends and family.

the first day at hogwarts felt surreal. the familiar sounds of students chatting in the great hall, the smell of fresh made foods and the sight of enchanted candles floating above made you feel like you had stepped back into a dream. you knew there was a big chance that tom riddle was here, in the same room as you.

but before you could worry about him, you had to get through your first day as just another transfer student.

you found yourself sitting at the gryffindor table with your roommates and their friends. "so, what was beauxbatons like? i've heard it's incredibly fancy, with all those grand fountains everywhere," maeve spoke - a good friend from lilith you noted. you could see how she was the one who made lilith blossom open as a shy person.

you hesitated for a second, remembering dumbledore's warning to keep it simple. you gave her a small smile, "it's different from hogwarts. especially since there are a lot more boys here then i'm used to."

lucas, a boy with a head full of black curls looked up, "hogwarts has it's charm, luckily you were sorted into gryffindor, you seem like a cool person and everyone knows it's the best house."

alicia was flipping to your timetables, trying to figure out if you had any classes with your gryffindor friends. "we've got defense against the dark arts first thing! i'm hoping for some practical lesson, today. spells maybe," alicia's eyes widened with excitement.

your stomach dropped slightly after lucas mentioned there was a big chance we'd have a class with the slytherins and a few ravenclaws. given riddle's obsessive interest in the subject, there was no doubt he wouldn't be in this class.

you offered a casual nod, "defence against the dark arts should be interesting..."

after the five of you finished breakfast and gathered your books and made your way to your first class of the day. the halls were busy with students, most of whom paid little attention to you, though a few curious glanced lingered.

once you reached DADA classroom, you found yourself standing at the doorway. you hoped for a normal teacher, when you were in hogwarts every year there was this teacher with the weirdest background ever. the classroom was large, with desks arranged i neat rows, the walls were lined with various defensive artifacts.

you let your eyes wander around the room. there, near the middle, sat tom riddle.

he was exactly as you had imagined - tall, dark-haired, and composed. his sharp features and cold eyes stood out even among your classmates. he exuded an air of authority and confidence. the other students around him seemed to ignore him, you wondered why. were they scared of him, or did they think he was a weirdo?

you quickly tore your gaze away from the back of his head, before he sensed you staring. "come on," maeve whispered, "we don't want you to be late on your first day."

you nodded, and walked towards a vacant seat next to lucas. the professor was a stern looking man, with a neatly trimmed beard. he immediately launched into a discussion of the most advanced spells, his tone brisk and matter-of-fact.

it was pretty hard to focus with the presence of tom riddle in the room. every now and then, you dared to glance at him, watching as he listened intently, his expression focused and serious. you had no idea how you were supposed to change him. he already seemed so… unreachable.

halfway through the class, the professor called for everyone to pair up for dueling practice. maeve grabbed your arm, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“partners?” she asked eagerly.

“of course,” you replied, grateful for the distraction.

you and maeve moved to an open space in the classroom, pulling out your wands as the professor demonstrated a series of defensive spells. you followed along, trying to keep your movements smooth and controlled. thankfully, the practice went well, and maeve seemed impressed.

“you’re really good!” she said after successfully blocking one of your spells. “you must have had excellent teachers at beauxbatons.”

you smiled and nodded at her praise. as you practiced with maeve, you couldn’t help but notice tom a few spaces away, dueling effortlessly with a slytherin boy. his movements were precise, fluid, as if he had been born with a wand in his hand. it was clear to anyone watching that he was far more advanced than most students his age.

finally, when the class came to an end, and you packed up your things, trying to avoid looking at him as you left the room with maeve, lilith, alicia and lucas.

“next up is transfiguration,” alicia said, checking her timetable as you all walked down the corridor. “i’m actually looking forward to that one.”

the rest of the day passed in a similar blur. transfiguration was more manageable — professor dumbledore, who taught the class, gave you a small, knowing smile when he saw you, though he treated you no differently than the other students. you worked on basic transformations alongside your friends, though your mind kept drifting back to defense against the dark arts and the presence of tom riddle.

potions came next, with professor slughorn as the teacher. he welcomed you to the class with open arms, making sure you had everything you needed. it was weird, since you already met him just when he was a bit older. lucas was quick to show you around the room, helping you find ingredients and sharing tips for the potion you were brewing.

“slughorn’s a bit of a collector,” alicia whispered as you carefully added a pinch of powdered unicorn horn to your cauldron. “he loves students with… potential. but he’s nice, at least.”

"he's even got a club," lilith quipped in quietly.

by the time you reached your last class of the day, charms, the exhaustion of trying to keep up appearances had settled deep in your bones. yet, your new friends kept the energy alive. alicia was quick with jokes, and lucas had a dry, witty humor that balanced maeve's enthusiasm. and lilith was just there, enjoying her friends' energy.

a/n: quick chapterrrr, part three will be coming out next week (probably or sooner)

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[connorsui]

A Thousand Years of Silence|| R. Sukuna

♡ After years of separation, Sukuna is stunned by the reincarnation of his lost love, grappling with overwhelming emotions as he watches her, unaware of their shared past.

♡ short shot

♡ Reincarnation, Emotional Turmoil, Longing, Past Lives

♡ Genre/warnings: Angst, Emotional Distress, Themes of Loss, Unresolved Feelings, unrequited love, sukuna stuck inside of yuujis mind, our love can't do anything (saddd)

♡ Note: he considered you his wife in the past …but now there's nothing there

w.c: 1.1K

VIP: @moonchhu

It had been a millennium—an eternity stretched far beyond the reach of mortal minds—since Ryomen Sukuna last laid eyes upon you. A thousand years since your heart ceased its steady rhythm in his presence since your breath no longer lingered in the air between you. And yet, in all those years, not a single moment passed where he hadn’t felt the weight of your absence. Time had become a cruel mockery, an endless river he could not escape, and with each passing century, he had drifted further from anything remotely human. Now, confined within the vessel of a boy, Sukuna had become little more than a ghost in a cage—a god reduced to a whisper, suffocating in a body that wasn’t his own.

And then, you appeared once more.

The moment he saw you, the world collapsed. Time, which had weighed like chains upon him for centuries, halted. Each second stretched into eternity as though the gods themselves had chosen this precise moment to mock him. You stood before him, the same yet entirely different, the very air around you pulsing with a vitality he had forgotten. For a fleeting instant, Sukuna forgot to breathe. His breath froze, stolen in reverence, as if the universe had finally granted him a mercy he neither deserved nor expected.

But it wasn't mercy.

It was tormenting.

You were beautiful—more beautiful than memory allowed. Your hair had changed, shorter and unfamiliar, and the hue of your eyes had deepened, something unknown to him in past lifetimes. The curve of your lips, the way you stood—these details were altered, but they were insignificant. It was you. The essence of your being, the soul he had once intertwined with, was unchanged. Everything else was inconsequential. Every lifetime, every version of you was etched into him, stitched into the fabric of his being, as eternal as he was.

He stood still, as though rooted in place, the chaotic landscape of Yuuji Itadori’s mind fading into nothingness around him. This was a moment he had craved, longed for, even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself. He had waited, suffered through lifetimes of bloodshed and isolation, through endless carnage that offered no solace. And now you were here again, alive, breathing, exuding a warmth that struck him like a blow.

It was unbearable.

The rising tide of emotions threatened to drown him, an onslaught so unfamiliar that for a moment, he questioned whether he was still the Ryomen Sukuna he had known. The god reduced to mortal weakness, overcome by the sight of someone who had undone him centuries ago. It was you. Only you could render him powerless in ways no mortal could dream of. Not with weapons or curses—but with a simple glance.

You turned, and your gaze locked onto his. For an instant, Sukuna swore the veil of centuries lifted, and it was as if you remembered. His heart quaked in his chest, a sensation so foreign that he nearly lost his composure. He hadn’t realized it, hadn’t thought that in the deepest recesses of his twisted soul, he had wanted this—needed it. The fire that flickered in your eyes burned into him, rekindling the embers of a connection that should have been long extinguished.

Your smile, tender and soft, was like the caress of a breeze on a spring day, brushing against him with a warmth he had forgotten. And yet, here you stood, untainted by the ravages of time. Sukuna, the King of Curses, felt his chest constrict in a way that made him despise the vulnerability you brought out in him. He had razed kingdoms, struck fear into the hearts of gods and men alike, but here he stood—undone by a memory. A memory made flesh once again.

"Hello, Yuuji," you said, your voice lilting and sweet—so achingly familiar.

It shattered the fragile walls he had built to contain the torrent of memories. The sound of it, that melody, filled him with memories of a time long past. How could something so simple bring him to his knees?

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity, the cruel joke of the gods. How Ryomen Sukuna, who had ravaged nations and reduced men to ash, could be undone by something as simple as a smile. He felt his hand move before he realized it, wiping away a tear he hadn’t known was there.

When was the last time he cried? Has he ever?

The realization struck him hard, like a blade lodged deep in his chest.

You noticed, of course. Your brow furrowed in concern, a mirror of a look you had once given him on a mountaintop long ago. The concern that had soothed his battle-weary soul centuries before. "Are you alright?" you asked, and those words—spoken with such genuine care—hit him like sunlight breaking through the endless storm of his existence. The cold, relentless winter that had gnawed at his immortal soul thawed, just for a moment.

The irony of it all stung more than he could bear. Sukuna, the god of curses, reduced to something human. Mortal.

"I’m fine," he murmured, though the words felt inadequate, as though he was saying them more to himself than to you. Fine was a lie, but it was all he could offer in this cursed vessel, trapped in the body of the boy who carried him. His lips curled into a smile—not the mocking, vicious grin that was his signature, but something real, something so rarely seen that it surprised even him.

It was you.

No matter how much time had passed, no matter the distance or the lifetimes, it had always been you. You were his beginning and his end, the one constant in a world that had long since fallen to ruin. Even now, even without your memories, you were the same soul that had captured him once, the only being who had made him feel something beyond rage and bloodlust.

Sukuna’s heart—immortal, untouchable—beat again, fiercely, with a strength that shook him to his core. He was not accustomed to this vulnerability, this raw ache that clawed at him from the inside out. The feeling was dangerous, a double-edged blade held to his throat, threatening to cut deeper than any wound he had endured in his many battles. But for you, he would bear it. For you, he would endure a thousand more years of silence, a thousand more years of waiting if that was what it took.

Because it was you. It had always been you.

Bby just wants you to remember him :( ...give him what he wants

[yandereunsolved]

Hi this is the anon who originally asked you technical questions about your self aware yandere hotd au, hi, how’s it going? Been having a good week so far? I hope you are

Anywho, I was hit with this thought while working recently and I’d love to hear your thoughts or perspective on it

Okay so, my biggest problem with self aware aus (this is such a nitpick ik 😔) is that if it’s airing live/coming out with new episodes, wouldn’t other people notice that the characters are being different and diverting? How does it change only for our tv? That’s when this thought hit me, “what if we bought the dvd set?” It makes so much sense to me, this aware universe is being contained within the confines of a dvd box set and now that the story is diverting from course what if we noticed that the size of the box set keeps getting bigger as we find more dvds than there were previously in there? When did this series have so many seasons? Why is this scene so different from the one on YouTube? Imagine if that kept happening too? You then buy a dvd set for GoTs just to have the complete set and start watching it and the same thing happens, you’d have to question yourself on if the seller is magical or if your so hot that these characters are becoming sentient

Sorry for the long rambling, I’m laying in bed and just remembered this idea I wanted to share with you, have a lovely timezone! 💛

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me! 💛

I would have replied sooner, but it got lost in my inbox. Hope you see this, anon!

If it’s airing live/coming out with new episodes, wouldn’t other people notice that the characters are being different and diverting? How does it change only for our tv? That’s when this thought hit me, “what if we bought the dvd set?”

Both instances could be true.

For the television thing—it's more of the complicated subject of continuous alternate timelines all acting within the same confines. All of the versions of them are on the television at the same time. Only one version deviates and recognizes that they are being shown in this television. Or multiple versions who are all the same yet different now, self-aware for different people.

I am absolutely in love with your idea though. :)

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 18: Balls (Bullet Train)

Sometimes (oftentimes) it's true that all you need are Balls. I personally absolutely love Balls. I'm a big fan! Ekhem. Today I'm using the help of (I mean, copying most of the passages from it) my earlier Balls rant that I have written down after my first listen of it back in January. I really love this album and I don't want to completely skip over saying a couple words on it at least but I really don't think I have the headspace to write anything very good for it today. I'll still try though!

So yeah, Balls. It's a great album, fun and chill (in my sense of what I call and consider chill anyway), consistent, as Sparks albums tend to be, and as I suspected / hoped it does fit this specific vibe of driving around at night somewhere city-like and illuminated. Or being on a train deep at night and looking at the world zooming by (if you'd even see much of it on a train at night anyway.....). And I do think that it's not so dissimilar to Gratsax (I'd say now that it's definitely darker and moodier than its predecessor...). So it's interesting to think about how it's considered to be one of the "weak" ones (by music reviewers at least) while Gratsax is so beloved in comparision.

I will admit, I don't really know what the big problem with this album could be. As I said, it's fun, it has the melodies, it has the energy, it has the theatricality (I like seeing how more and more orchestral instruments such as strings are being incorporated into the music, in a way the jump into Lil' Beethoven two years later doesn't come of as THAT much of a shock because of this. The evolution of sound here is fascinating!) I really like the intense beats, just as much as the more laid-back and moodier pieces. And there's lots of gold to be found in the lyrics department as always.

One more thing I wanna say is that at some point I wondered if this music sounds older than it is. Maybe it does? But then I remembered that this was 2000 and honestly when I think about it, there just IS something about this album that fits so well with the Y2K image and vibe and all. Sparks 2000 and all that.

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Balls: I mean. It's Balls.

Scheherazade: absolutely LOVE this one and I had the strangest impression of it sounding very familiar when I first heard it. Months later I found out that it was just briefly featured in TSB so I think that explains it (I will talk more about my TSB viewings on TSB day. EVERYTHING has to be explained in excruciating detail, lmao)

The Calm Before The Storm: bugsonas 4ever. Song itself is amazing too

How To Get Your Ass Kicked: how can a song about getting your ass kicked be so pleasant and relaxing, it always keeps cracking me up, how perfect that is actually

Bullet Train: I love it how introducing the topic of the song with a "It's the [topic of the song]" is a reoccurring theme on this album. Thank you Sparks for this ode to technology and art (these lyrics always have me giggling). And also it just goes hard as heck

It's Educational: a perfect fusion of / sequel to I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car and Progress (it's mostly the vocal delivery that reminds me of the latter)

The Angels: such an odd one here but I still like it a lot, I apparently said that it sounds "surprisingly mainstream for Sparks but somehow in a positive way". It's very sweet and I absolutely love how Russell sings here, it's so different from what we're used to but that only makes it hit you even more in the feels, lol. And I actually prefer the alternative version of this song that's featured as a bonus track, and I do think that's in big part because you can hear Russell better on it (or that was my first impression of it at least and it kind of stuck)

[taliesin-the-bored]

A few things which are “canon” somewhere for people who are worried they’re stretching it too far

Arthur was killed by a giant cat. 

Arthur killed the cat.

Arthur didn’t fight the cat. Kay did.

Kay and Bedivere use salmon as taxis. 

Lucan is half giant, half lion. (This Lucan, Lucano in the original Italian, is evil and not related to Bedivere). 

King Arthur raided the land of the dead.

The human knight Caradoc Briefbras has three half siblings: a dog, a horse, and a pig.

A large portion of Arthur’s troops was killed a while before Camlann by his nephew’s attack ravens in self-defense. Arthur and said nephew were playing chess at the time and neither did much to stop it.

Merlin retired peacefully and went to live in the countryside with Taliesin.

Wherever Arthur walks, plants die. They don’t grow back for years.

Arthur had a spunky (half?) brother who died in battle after making a mysterious oath.

Dagonet is more or less able to run the kingdom when Arthur is gone. His biggest error is overspending on mercenaries.

Guinevere has an evil almost identical twin half-sister.

Hector beat up all the best knights except for Galahad while possessed by a demon.

Gawain plays tennis.

Gawain has used a chessboard as a weapon.

Near the start of his reign, Arthur left Lot in charge of the kingdom and went on a quest with a sassy parrot.

Gawain or Galahad succeeded Arthur as king. 

[thecrowsart]

👁️🦎🎯

(crops under cut)

[whyissupernaturaltrending]

hiii re: your most recent post, im pretty sure i remember the voice actor of spanish dub dean confirming that y yo a ti was not scripted? there was a panel a while ago where either he or the spanish dub director said it was not scripted/part of the translation but was a choice made by the team on the day based on the rest of the work they had done on the series. sort of along the lines of like, they decided to add y yo a ti bc they knew the show well and knew that's the right response for dean? i would have to dig through 2 years of my blog to find a source for this but I do remember it

ah yes! i honestly forgot about that one ksjshs. i've dug out a couple of posts: [one], [two], [three], and yes, it looks like it would've been the team's/director's choice based on that. some of the posts i linked here aren't 'official' sources, but neither are the recent posts about the translator's confirmations. though it's been almost three years and different people involved so i'm not too surpised about discrepancies

[sonknuxadow]

I greatly enjoyed my time with Sonic Prime, but I will admit that the ending confused me

i thought the ending worked fine but it was a bit underwhelming compared to some of the theories i saw. and i also wasnt really expecting for it to be possible to restore green hill without wiping the shatterverse from existence because that just. didnt feel possible based on what we knew about how this stuff supposedly works . What ever its just baby cartoons doesnt matter

and ive also seen people thinking the ending was meant to be a cliffhanger setting up for a potential continuation but i dont think that personally. to me its obviously just meant as Ohh sonics life never slows down so theyre immediately jumping into another adventure The End. or whatever

[weirdo-with-a-nametag]

If you're my friend... I think about you a lot.

[bogology]

so true bestie all the things i like are connected to each other even if they aren't. they are now

[lennythereviewer]

My favorite Kingdom Hearts fact is that one of the biggest plot-holes that Nomura has never been able to meaningfully retcon or write his way out, a plot-hole so big that it fundamentally breaks the very rules the series is written on...

Is the existence of Steamboat Willie

Let me explain for the uninitiated:

In Kingdom Hearts 2, there’s a small detour in the story involving Maleficent trying to invade Disney Castle, the home of King Mickey. She can’t step foot in the castle due to an artefact of pure light that wards off darkness locked in the basement.

Pete, who is working for Maleficent, opens a door into the past (Before Disney Castle, this land was known as Timeless River) and decides to remove the artifact from it’s place in time so it won’t be there to stop them from getting in.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy chase Pete into the past thanks to another magic door provided by Merlin, and through some shenanigans involving old cartoons and teaming up with Pete’s past-self, they lock the door the villains are using, and return the artefact to it’s proper place so it can exist in the present.

You with me so far? Pretty straightforward-ish time-travel plot right?

Here’s where it goes off the rails.

Time travel would go on to become a staple of Kingdom Hearts going forward and would come with a very strict set of rules over how it operates:

1. You can only travel to a point in time where a version of yourself exists

2. You basically give up your body to do so, and travel as a disembodied soul unless you have a vessel to inhabit

3. You can’t alter the past in a meaningful way, what’s going to happen will happen

4. You lose your memories of said trip once you return, but your actions could leave a lingering instinct on your other self that could influence their decisions

“Wait” you may be thinking “Why should anyone go through all those hoops? Wasn’t time travel super simple that first time?”

And you’d be totally right, because the existence of Timeless River completely renders all of these rules and restrictions meaningless. 

There is no version of Sora that existed in Timeless River before he step foot there, everyone kept their bodies, the trio and Pete were able to mess with the timeline as freely as they pleased, and they all very much remember their trip. 

Nomura has never been able to meaningfully explain this super simple, easy way of time travel and the more convoluted method co-existing other than a cheap-throwaway line from one of the villains saying that Merlin “broke the rules” 

The hilarious part about this line is that it implies that PETE of all characters is actually more powerful than the actual villain of the series, because Pete opened a door into Timeless River through sheer willpower and nostalgia for “the good old days”

But the all-knowing chess-master of a villain who had an evil plan several decades in the making with countless moving parts and contingencies to account for had to use the roundabout, more complicated method of time travel where a lot could go wrong.

Pete though? Dude just casually broke all the rules of time travel because he felt like it. He's just built different.

TL;DR: Steamboat Willie breaks Kingdom Hearts lore in half, Pete is more powerful than Master Xehanort, and I fucking love this beautiful trainwreck of a series you guys it means so much to me

I love Kingdom hearts so much.

[evilminji]

Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

[devilishcupid]

CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara

☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.

☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader

☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing

☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."

"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.

"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."

"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.

"Miguel!"

And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.

His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.

Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.

He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.

"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.

Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.

You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.

"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"

Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.

"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."

You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."

Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."

"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.

"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."

He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.

"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."

Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."

With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.

But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.

[minhosimthings]

Both || 18+

Synopsis: it's literally just porn I have no explanation

Pairings: bf!Heeseung × fem!reader × bf!Jake

Warnings: Smut MINORS DNI, oral ( f recieving), poly relationship, dom!Heeseung, dom!Jake, sub!reader, fingering, double penetration, p in v sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mean dom Heeseung, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, anal sex eyy, dacryphillia

A/N: so if any of you remember the symphony smut series, then you'll remember how the Skz threesome fic I had with MinChan was originally meant for HeeJake, but I didn't write it due to certain issues. BUT ITS HERE NOW. And no I didn't write a completely different fic, I just replaced the names from the original fix and rewrote some of the dialogue.

Original SKZ Version

Living with two boyfriends had been a much livelier experience than you would had initially thought. Or perhaps it was because they were Heeseung and Jake was what made it lively.

They were completely opposite to each other in all aspects. Which especially showed in the bedworks.

Heeseung was your drug for slavery while Jake was your poison for salvation.

Their duality was what turned you on, they could call you their little princess and give you as much pleasure as you wanted or they could tell you that you're their slut, with a pussy made only for them.

So it was no surprise that when you got mad with one, you went to another.

And on one fine Tuesday evening that's exactly what happened.

•••••••••••••••

"Princess are you alright?" Jake peeked his head around the door, his eyes taking time to adjust to the dim light. His ears were working though, and your sobs broke his heart. He didn't like it when you argued with Heeseung. He knew both of you were competitive, and competition never lead to much success, it usually led to tears and ignoring one another.

"If he sent you here-" you hiccuped, looking up at Jake, "Tell him I'm never going to talk to him again."

"You're so adorable." He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you, his hands on your hips, "How about a little session hmm? To get your mind off things?"

"What if he hears?"

“Hyung has his headphones in” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. He pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “He won't hear what he's missing.”

Jake makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his primal instincts starts to kick in. In seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste for him right now. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“Never seen you so speechless before.” You tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the wet slick pooling at your entrance.

“What can I say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “I like having you all to myself.”

You open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. After that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins. He tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper.

His tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. It’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. He grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of drink he can get his mouth on.

Each precise stroke of Jake's tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. He was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. He breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

It’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

Your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. The coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. You don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

It takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure Jake hurtled you in. You watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

"Having fun there aren't you?"

Oh fucking no

You snapped your head up to look at the doorway, where your eyes fell on the image of Heeseung, casually leaning against the door, shit eating smirk on his face.

"Want a taste? I'm done." Jake got off the bed and plopped onto the nearby armchair.

"So the plan did work." Heeseung chuckled, taking off his jacket, and striding across the room, looking at your confused figure with bedroom eyes.

"What fucking plan?" You spat with venom in your tone, making Heeseung click his tongue together.

"Jaeyun here offered to help me after our little 'argument'." Heeseung dipped the bed down with his weight, "And let's just say, now that you're all riled like our pretty princess-" he took off his belt, "You won't refuse my fingers will you?"

"Fuck you Lee Heeseung, and you too." You directed the last part at Jake who merely shrugged his shoulders, and lounged on the armchair.

You gasped as Heeseung cupped your pussy, involuntarily clenching around nothing and feeling a gush of wetness spilling as your body reacted in anticipation.

"Aww did you miss me that much?"

“Use your fingers properly and find out.”

Your taunt didn’t go amiss. “Not even a sorry?” he said, arrogance dripping from each word.

Much to your frustration, your hips rolled into his touch, silently wishing he would stop avoiding your swell. Heeseung's hands worked quickly to unbutton your shirt. You knew all too well that you’d feel his cock hard enough if he was already this eager to expose your breasts. Your nipples quickly hardened and you rolled your hips once more, causing one of his fingers to slide inside.

It was the vicious clenches around his finger that snapped him out of it and his lustful eyes met yours. “Give me one reason not to slide out of you.”

"Jake's cock is getting hard and you don't want to disappoint him do you? He is the favourite in this relationship right?" You grumbled, feeling Heeseung's finger slide across your pussy. You tried your hardest not to moan.

Heeseung threw a glance at Jake who was chuckling behind his fingers, his cock almost bursting through his trousers. A second finger slithered past your tightness and he brought his lips to your ear.

“You're right. He is my favourite, but he doesn't have a pussy like yours does he?”

Your whimpers increased in intensity and you looped your arms around his neck for added support, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go knuckle-deep and you shuddered as his strained erection pressed against his hand nudged him even deeper.

He groaned first, clearly enjoying the newfound friction, and you clenched hard at how his face twisted in pleasure. His lips brushed against yours this time, dragging his fingers back as you clenched desperately around him.

“What happened darling?” Heeseung taunted as you tried to have him back inside, your hips following his retreating hand. “That desperate for my fingers?”

"Selfish little princess” He continued, sliding one finger back inside, but not quite deep enough to fully satisfy you. “You know, I can be quite greedy when I want to. But..."

You whined in response, frustrated that you were now faced with an agonising emptiness.

“But what?” you groaned, trying to have him sink deeper to no avail. He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back.

“But I am willing to share you with Jake for a bit.”

The moans and whimpers and gasps that slipped from you were being effectively muffled, the third finger nudged at your entrance and you could only roll your eyes shut as your bit hard around your tongue to not give Heeseung the satisfaction.

“Surely you can take one more,” he teased, his voice low. It slid inside painfully slowly and the stretch had you gasping.

The combination of being so full of him and how he allowed you to rub your clit on his palm was too much. The lewd sounds were almost too obscene and you gripped both hands together, holding onto the remainder of the sanity you had left.

For a brief moment, Heeseung allowed you to ride three of his fingers, giving you the illusion that you’d reach your peak easily and rather quickly. His generosity came to an abrupt halt just as you felt the familiar coil down below becoming more and more overwhelming, your body quickly reaching the point of no return.

And then you felt a painful emptiness as he pulled out from you at once.

He chuckled when you groaned in sheer frustration, looking over at Jake and giving him a smirk too.

Of course. He was a sadist.

“Now, now,” Heeseung tutted, caressing your flushed cheek with his thumb, a single tear streaming down your face. “You didn’t think I would be that generous, did you?” 

"Fuck you both so much."

"Well if you say so doll." Jake shrugged his shoulders again and got up, getting onto the bed as well.

"Only if she stays silent though." Heeseung chuckles like a madman. Fuck you, you thought, but you couldn't get the words out. Jake removes his underwear, and you suddenly don’t feel so sure that you can take anymore.

“i-I” you can’t get the words out as a moan slips from your lips, when he enters you in one thrust. Your head falls back and your eyes close at the feeling of his thick length inside you. Had he always been this big?

“Fuck you're tight” Jake groans.

“Oh fuck.” You breath, feeling too full and overwhelmed already, and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“How does she feel?" Heeseung asks Jake. “So. Fucking. Tight” he groans as he slowly starts moving.

“oh fuuuck” you moan, unable to stay silent. Your hands search for something to hold on to, and they reach Jake's dark curls

“Does it feel good darling?” Heeseung whispers in your ear as he stretches your ass with his fingers.

“f-fuck y-yes” you breath out as Jake picks up speed.

"You like Jake fucking you while I stretch your ass?”

“Yes” you moan again.

“Good girl, look how well you’re taking us." Heeseung's hot breath tickles your skin pink.

Jake groans as he picks up speed, hitting that one spot inside you that makes you scream. Heeseung's hand clamps over your mouth again “what did I say about keeping silent darling?” he says mockingly.

“Fuck you're ready to cum again aren’t you? I feel you fucking clamping on my fingers” Heeseung groans.

“please” you beg them, but the sound is muffles by Heeseung's hand.

“what was that darling….you want it harder and…deeper?” Jake says mockingly. “I think she said she wants it harder hyung.” he says.

You try to shake your head, it’s already to much but Jake picks up speed even faster and Heeseung pushes a third finger in your ass. You come so hard you see stars. But both men don’t stop. No, they continue their ungodly rhythm.

You close your eyes enjoying the feeling. Your eyes shoot open when you feel Jake’s cock move through your folds. "Jaeyun..” you gasps as he puts himself against your entrance.

“you wanted us both, so you get us both” Jake says darkly before he slowly thrusts inside you. Your vision blurs at the overwhelming fullness you feel. “fuck I can fucking feel you” Heeseung mutters to Jake.

“fuck” Jake groans in response. You already feeling another orgasm rise.

“please…please” you have no idea what you’re begging for, the stimulation overwhelming you.

“cum for us” Jake orders as he starts moving in and out of you again.

Heeseung lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him, kissing him deeply. “No, I can’t. please” you beg. “You can do one more darling”

“hmmhhmmm f-ffuuuckk” you have no idea where the sounds are coming from that leave you, and who might hear. But you’re too far gone to care. You only feel them. Jake and Heeseung as they thrust in and out of your holes in a brutal pace.

“oh fuck…FUCK!” you scream out as yet another orgasm breaks you. you feel the both of them come inside you almost at the same time. You have no idea if you're still cuming or if it’s another orgasm.

Their thrusts turned slow but remained powerful as they bottomed out, hitting you as far back as they could. You gasped with every rut of Jake's hips hitting yours, and Heeseung's little moans cornering your ears.

Jake's hand aimlessly stroked your hair. he pulled back to look at you, smiling at the sight of your flushed face and disheveled hair.

“see. knew you could take it.” Jake kissed the tip of your nose, regretfully pulling out of you, you felt Heeseung do the same from behind. You whined at the loss—you had got so used to the feeling of them inside you, it was almost painful for them to leave.

"Princess?" Heeseung asks uncertainly, "you alright?"

"I'll forgive you if both of you do that everyday." You breathe out, being wrapped safely into Jake's arms.

"Well if you say so." Heeseung chuckles and smirks at Jake, who smiles back and wraps both of you tighter into a cocoon of comfort.

[cheriladycl01]

hey babe!

may I request AM!Seb X RB!driver!reader where she's like a female version of what he was when he drove for RB? Like, cocky, competitive and young, where she's basically him paying for his sins lmao

thanks <333

I see my reflection in your eyes - Sebastian Vettel x RedBullDriver! Reader

Plot: Cocky Young Red Bull Driver looks good when your in a team with Max Verstappen. She’s a menace on track and Sebastian feels as though he needs to put her in her place.

Warnings: SMUT. Car sex. Angst. Sexism (in the MS industry) etc. MINORS DNI 18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, my fav reader!

Credit to violetvettel for the GIF

You and Max were exceptional team-mate since you'd been promoted to Red Bull in 2021 but you'd became more of a menace on track than when you were a part of AlphaTauri.

Even though it wasn't a championship winning car, every week you were driving it like one. In your season prior to your promotion. You hadn't finished outside the points, had no DNF's a few podiums and even a race win.

Horner came to you during the summer break proposing to switch you out for Albon. Of course you immediately agreed. Max was the same age as you so you were actually already pretty close, you were always found causing mayhem around the paddock despite being in different teams right now.

Obviously once you came into RedBull the car just suited your driving style so well, and you adapted much quicker than Pierre and Alex had and on your first race in 2021 you'd set pole position. You and Max had locked out the front row and you were buzzing with energy. This could be the year you win the constructors.

However, the first race was a shame in Bahrain, Lewis had collided with you into Turn 5. Lewis ended up winning, Max in P2 and Valtteri in P3. It was supposed to be your podium ... but it didn't matter too much.

The season wasn't just a Max and Lewis battle, but you were up there as well. A real challenge for Max and you were confident.

Who wouldn't be ... first female race winner in F1 and at one point in the season you were Championship Leader?

And Sebastian always was irked by this. Because you reminded him so much of himself in his RedBull days. He was cocky, arrogant and if he was being honest with himself a bit of a prick and he could see that with you.

He didn't know if it was the more you hung out with Max or if it was just the ego getting bigger and bigger but he remembered you as a sweet little rookie... freshly out of F2 and were nervous any time you got in the car.

But now he looked at you and all he could see what the smirk... that sexy sexy smirk.

But now you were sat in a drivers conference talking about the upcoming race and problems from the last one.

The last race was Monaco and you'd podiumed with Lando and Max and it was an incredible feeling. The three of you had spent the night partying in Monte Carlo casino and the pictures were in the tabloids the next day.

The next race was Azerbaijan and towards the last few laps it was you battling it out with Sebastian. Your car wasn't at peak performance as you hadn't done well in qually. But you managed to keep it up and came through with your second win of the season thus putting you up as current championship winner. Considering all the other podiums you'd had.

The feeling of stepping out the car was incredible. The fist pump in the air, your hair caked in champagne and sweat on the podium. It was an incredible feeling.

"So comments on those last few laps, Sebastian!" an interviewer asks.

"I mean it was ridiculous i don't understand how personalities weren't awarded ..." he frowns looking over at you smiling and giggling with Lando who was, along with Max a best friend of yours on the grid.

"Please elaborate!" he asks.

"Track limits, driving dangerously ... do i need to go on!" he laughs making you turn you head to him and scoff.

"I hope you aren't talking about me" you ask looking over at him and the other drivers go silent. You are now sat back with your arms crossed and a frown on your face as you look down at him in front of you.

"Of course I'm talking about you" he grits out and you just smile at him.

"Calm down, lets not get your panties in a twist!" you mumble so only Lando and Max either side of you can and they try to hide their laughs from you.

"What was that?" he asks twisting round fully to look at you now.

"Nothing, nothing. I think just don't comment on my driving abilities when I defended from you for the last 15 laps ... pretty well" you smirk looking down at him.

He just tuts turning back round making you shake your head and sigh as the interviewer looks to you to direct his next question.

"Y/N how does it feel as a woman to have all these world champions behind you after today?" he asks and you cock your head at him in surprise.

"Re-word that..." you smile at him, and he looks just as confused as you did.

"Sorry?" he asks and everyone around looks towards you.

"All you needed to ask was who it feels to have all these world champs behind me, my gender adds nothing to the question specifically ... if you wanted to ask me about my first race win as the only woman to win an F1 race ... that different" you smile and the interviewer coughs awkwardly at the same time as you PR manager shakes her head at you to stop.

"But to answer, i had the upgrades in the car. I was determined i had a good start and the race went my way today... and I think that's all that really matters..." you smile.

After the meeting, all it took was for you to be stood outside the McLaren hospitality next to Lando and Daniel, laughing with the pair of them for Sebastian to come forward looking at you with his hands on his hips.

"You, come with me!" he exclaims grabbing your wrist making you follow him.

"What the fuck! Seb, let me go!" you say as he pulls you out of the race track paddock entrance and to where his blacked out Aston Martin was.

"Let me go!" you tug on the tight grip on your wrist.

"Just stop! What happened to the sweet girl i first met here, you are ruthless, cocky and rude now! I don't like it!" he exclaims looking over you with a frown on his face.

"I've matured Seb, I'm not the same 21 year old i was when i first came here and first met you. Stop treating me like this little girl ... I'm done being nice and friendly ... i didn't get my way that way. Just deal with it!" you say throwing your hands up in exasperation.

"Matured, yeah right? You were arguing with me in there like a spoilt little brat!" he says, his eyes were so angry right now that you actually had to take a step back.

"Seb, deal with it!" you frown, stepping away and going to turn around.

"Get in the car Y/N!" he says opening the passenger side door.

"Why should i!" you ask not facing him to give him the satisfaction that you are fully listening to him.

"Because, I want to talk ... just us two!" he says his features fully softening, your brain was melting.

It couldn't work out if he was mocking you, or if he was genuinely being sweet. You stand there, now turned back around just watching his face as he stands there holding his passenger side door open.

"Argh fine!" you cry throwing your hands up. You were part of the Ferrari Driver Development Programme when you were 21 in F2 and Sebastian was a really important part of that development and the push you needed to get into F1. He was 31 and you saw him as a friendly mentor back then.

But the way he treated you, you'd developed a crush on him and you just knew it was wrong. A 10 year age gap that you knew the media would see as an abuse of power if anything was to ever happen between the two of you.

So you started to repress those feelings. You hung out more with Charles who joined you in your rookie season starting in 2018. Then when Lando joined there was more people your age on the grid. Even though Max was 26, he acted much older thanks to the early age he had started driving at which did lead you more to Charles and Lando. But where Charles was, Seb also was.

A few season's later and you were being promoted to Red Bull.

Seb drove you all the way to a quiet and coastal part of Baku, no-one was around.

"You embarrassed me today..." he sighs looking over at you as he pulled the handbrake up so you guys were stopped.

"Oh big whoop... all the other drivers do it and they don't get shit for it!" you complain crossing your arms over you chest and leaning back in the chair to get comfortable. You could tell you were going to be here for a while and you were in the middle of city you didn't know in a pretty quiet place and you didn't want to risk your chances of getting out and getting more lost.

"You've never done that before. Why today?" he asks looking over you.

"BECAUSE!" you shout spinning round to look at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

"I never ever thought you'd comment on my driving in a bad way when it wasn't ... that was my best race to date! I went from P12, all the way up to P1. I had to fight you for the last few laps and I was getting tired. I'm current championship leader and you didn't even acknowledge me on the podium or in the cool down room. You didn't say well done or congrats ... you didn't even look at me so how was i supposed to react when the first thing i can here about my performance from my old mentor is that it was dangerous. I shouldn't have the win and i should have had a penalty for defending from you? I worked my ass of for that P1 Seb and you know it, just because your getting old and the sport is changing so the grid isn't your fucking rich boys club anymore doesn't mean you get to see on me!" you scream the whole time, your throat scratchy once you take a breath and trying to get the tears under control.

"You think I'm old huh?" he asks and your gaze snaps over to him.

"Is that the only thing you got from that whole interaction?" you say with an exhausted sigh, from constantly fighting and you were getting to the point where you were so done.

"Well, you seem annoyed that this ... old man is giving you a run for you money!" he says and you look over at him.

"I'm leaving" you say going to open the door but he stops you.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry look I just ... it's hard getting used to all ... this!" he says looking you up and down, making you cock your head to the side.

"That doesn't give you the right to treat me the way you did today. You embarrassed me too" you say softly.

"Then, let me show you I'm sorry. Because I am" he sighs pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

"W- Seb what are you doing?" you ask looking at him. You eyes widened and he couldn't help but smile. You had these walls up for the past few years, creating this sharp and unapproachable look in your eyes, almost like a viscous cat, but now your eyes were wide and doe like, the way they used to be before Red Bull.

"I've waited too many years for this moment, and I know you have too" he smiles, coming closer to you leaning over the centre of the car.

"I- no i" you try say but a blush covers your face proving to him you really didn't.

"Just shut up" he laughs before pulling you in and kissing you. He tilted your head to the side to get closer to you, and you let him. This was a moment you'd dreamt of for far too long.

You pull back, taking your seat belt off and climbing over to the drivers side to straddle across him.

"If we're doing this ... It cant be a one time thing" you say holding both sides of his cheeks.

"You've always had all the power here sweetheart. It's your move, whatever we do. But I'll be here whatever that is. I promise you! I really care for you, I -" he smiles up at you and you nod. Looking over him once more before making your decision and pulling him back in for a kiss, his hands find there way to your hips pulling you down onto him a little more making you feel everything he had to offer.

"Seb, fuck you!" you laugh as you pull back.

"That was the plan" he smirks looking up at you.

"No, I don't think you've understood how long I've liked you for but we couldn't ... we shouldn't be doing this. If people found out" you said looking at him.

"I'm about to tell you something that doesn't leave this car. 2022 will be my last year driving. If you can wait for me, once I've retired this..." he gestures between the two of you. "Can be something more. But for now, our little secret?" he smiles and you nod feverishly.

Maybe you were still on the post win high, or Seb admitting he liked you as much as you did, not with words but you could just tell from the last 20 minute conversation, but you would do anything this man told you to do right now.

"I'll wait for you, but right now i need you Seb!" you breathed looking over him and his hands find their way up to the back of your neck and pulling you closer to him.

You hands are going anywhere they can, his neck, his biceps, his shoulders, his chest under his team top.

They ventured down starting to palm him through the joggers he'd worn to the track. Groans came out of his mouth that had your mind spinning at the thought that this was actually happening.

You were with Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't even comprehend this right now.

His fingers found there way under the skirt you were wearing and into your underwear where he started to circle your clit. Your head immediately fell into his neck at the feeling trying to muffle your moans.

"Fuck Seb, please" you cry into his shoulder as you start to move your hips to get more friction.

"What sweetheart. You need to tell me what you want. Communication ... I know you aren't good at that but you gotta try for me babygirl" he says and if he wasn't making you feel like a melted puddle of water right now you would have slapped him for that comment, even though he was so right.

He enters too fingers starting at a slow place to open you up and gradually speeds up, meeting your pathetic bounces as he holds his free arm around your back.

"I need more, Seb i need you!" you say, reaching down into his loose pants to feel just how hard he'd gotten.

"Fuck baby, just like that!" he says, his hand comes down to the side of the seat to recline it a little seeing how cramped you were at the your back was close to hitting the horn. He leant fully back, taking his fingers out of you, a groan of complaint at the loss of feeling.

"Go on baby" he says, sucking his fingers off, cleaning what was there from you before reclining himself back onto the seat his arms behind his head as he waited for you.

You pulled down his joggers and pants, his dick having been straining against them the entire time.

You move yourself up, pulling your panties to the side your arms coming either side of his head on the chair as you sunk down onto him.

"Fuck" you breathed as the sting from the stretch had you biting your lip.

"You got this sweetheart, just a little more" he smiles, his arms coming down from behind his head to settle on your hips to help you lower yourself smoothly onto him.

He was on cloud nine right now, he'd always liked you and now having you here was like a treat he'd never had before but became addicted to on the first taste.

You clamped around him at the feeling which released a whiny groan from the man below you. Once you'd bottomed out, you sat there for a little, letting yourself adjust.

"Who knew, I'd win and this is my celebration" you joke looking down at him, and he just laughs back.

"I can tell you, my intention wasn't to have sex in my car with you, I just wanted to apologize. But i cant help myself when it comes to you" he groans as you start to move a little bit.

"I never thought-" you moan in between kisses with him. "I'd have this" you say as you start to move up and down a little quicker. He starts to help you moving you up and down on him with his hands but his hands were starting to shake from the sheer amount of pleasure he was experiencing.

"I don't ever want this to end" he says as he starts to run your clit, feeling himself get embarrassingly close as quickly as he was from how you were clenching around him.

"It doesn't have too!" you smile, pulling him into a kiss.

He starts to thrust up into you, his movements from his hands getting quicker as your bounces managed to keep up. Beauty of being an athlete and having insane stamina.

You both come to your highs at the same time, you fall onto him your head going into his neck and his arms wrap around you to hold you too him so you couldn't go anywhere.

He didn't want you to.

"So... am I still a rude prick?" you ask smiling at him.

"Yeah, but i guess we can say your my rude prick. I'll keep you in line don't worry" he smirks and his words made you nod and blush, before placing another light, yet sweet kiss on his lips, making him sigh happily.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[theoldsports]

SPONTANEOUS.

Art Donaldson x Reader

oops. it’s gonna be a series. i’m developing Lore. let me know what you think and where to go next.

warnings: 18+ please, drug use mention, drinking (underage), kinda sexual content.

LINK TO SORRY SERIES

Fancy parties were loathsome. [Y/N] thought so, at least. She hated being told to stop calling them fancy parties and shindigs and to call them by their proper names: galas, benefits, balls, whatever. It was exhausting. Her feet weren’t meant to be elegantly jammed into spike heels. [Y/N] liked the height she was, thank you very much.

Did supporting charitable causes have to feel so degrading?

Capitalism at its finest.

[Y/N] had been attending these things since she was a little girl. Seven or eight years old. So young, in fact, that she now can’t remember what demographic or ailment-research, or political party this goddamn yearly spring shindig was for. Mr. and Mrs. Zweig were always nice to her when she was a child. She wasn’t just a family-friend, she (and her parents) felt like friends that were family.

What made the lavish Zweig parties tolerable was Patrick Zweig. She had known Patrick as long as there had been parties to get dressed up for. He had scraped her off a marbled staircase step as a little girl when her polished pleather mary janes didn’t have the traction to keep her upright. She had cried when she fell. He had said: “you’re really loud, you know that?” And she had laughed. So they were doomed to spend eternity hiding in coat rooms and getting tipsy together at these things.

Patrick was never one of those boys that felt the need to turn his back on [Y/N] during the cooties years, or the so-she’s-your-girlfriend? years. The pair of them always managed to be simply themselves and that was enough. He was merciless and unapologetic, but he made a hell of a best friend.

[Y/N] was two months older than Patrick, and had been taller for their first two years of friendship. When his shift in stature occurred, it happened fast.

Patrick went away to boarding school and came back a gangly beast. [Y/N], though they hadn’t spent every waking moment (weekends and school days) together since he had left her for a racket and a tennis ball, was always pleased to see Patrick was still himself every time he came home. Louder and stupider each time, but still Patrick.

Though, one spring break was different. Eleventh grade, if [Y/N] recalled correctly. Patrick came home, tall and stupid as ever, toting a boy named Art Donaldson.

Art Donaldson was considerably smaller, and debatably less stupid than Patrick Zweig. [Y/N] understood that day why all the girls in her grade giggled about boys. [Y/N] could never tell Patrick that. He would have been insufferable about it.

Actually, [Y/N] felt jealous. That was also a secret. Because Art, unlike she and Patrick, was nice. Everybody liked him. Nobody ever talked shit about him. Adults loved him and his small-town boy manners. He actually was a rambunctious little jerk, but nobody else saw that. Everyone else got yes sir, yes ma’am, I’m well, how are you? He could turn that charm on and off like a faucet. Infuriating, right?

[Y/N] was also jealous because it was clear she had been replaced.

Patrick lit up like a Christmas tree when he was with Art. He never looked at her like that. Art must have been a better friend to him then she was. Patrick called her once a week to talk for years, but Art slept, like, six feet away from him. It simply wasn’t fair.

Because of that, [Y/N] remembers spring break was really hard. [Y/N] was acutely aware she had lost something she didn’t know she could lose to the human version of a fucking beagle.

[Y/N] couldn’t remember the grade they were in exactly, but she did remember the dress she wore to the Zweigs’ party that year. It was light green and had spaghetti straps. It was longer and more form-fitting than what she was used. Most of the girls her age had settled for lots of tulle and cheetah-print so [Y/N] looked more mature by comparison. It was the first time [Y/N] remembered feeling grown up at all.

To think she thought that all her excitement and contentment was wasted. [Y/N] sat in a plastic pool chair in the backyard curled up with her cork wedge platforms resting dangerously close to the water. She nursed a bottle of vodka she had swiped two months ago from her parents liquor cabinet to surprise Patrick. Meticulously, she had waited for them to be out of town and found the key to the liquor cabinet. A whole bottle just for [Y/N] and her best friend. [Y/N] had barely managed to keep it a secret that she had taken it. She had been so proud of herself and thought Patrick would be too.

Now, she was the only one around to drink it.

Patrick had put his warm, familiar hands on her shoulders and told [Y/N] to wait right there and that he and Art would be back in a sec. The two boys had vanished upstairs presumably to Patrick’s room with laughter spilling from their mouths. [Y/N] sat at the base of the stairs alone for twenty minutes.

According to the garish clock on the wall, at twenty-one minutes, [Y/N] disappeared to the pool. She officially hated Patrick too. He had left her alone at parties plenty of times, and she him. They’d dance with others, or sneak off for a makeout session with a pretty stranger. It had never been a big deal either way. This felt like deliberate abandonment for no good reason. That was a first.

“Whoa, save some for the rest of us.” A reedy voice called out. Art Donaldson. [Y/N]’s head glanced over her shoulder so fast at the sound that she almost made herself dizzy. It took little time to realize there was no Patrick with him.

[Y/N] pulled the bottle closer. “That was a really long one sec,” She replied. She planned to say that eventually in the wasted minutes she waited, but it sounded less cool now than it did in her head. [Y/N] sounded plain mopey and that was a shame. “What’d you guys do anyway? Where’s Patrick?”

Art shrugged and walked further into view. He looked a bit sheepish. “Being Patrick,” He didn’t answer the first question she asked. There was a half-smile tugging at his lips. Art looked nice. Brown dress shoes, navy jacket, white shirt. No tie. She could have sworn that had been a tie at some point earlier. His shaggy blonde hair was mussed, but she had yet to observe it being neat. It was fustrating how effortlessly nice he looked. [Y/N] thought that everyday from day one. “It’s getting kinda cold. You wanna head back inside? I was looking for you—“

“I’m alright here, but thanks,” she slurred slightly. “You head in. I’m not here to ruin your fun.” It had sounded bitter. She hadn’t meant for it to.

Art sighed and glanced away from her. He paused a moment and sighed. “I’m not here to ruin yours either, y’know.”

“You don’t have to make this into a thing. It’s fine.”

“Well, too late. Patrick’s being an ass. I don’t want you out here feeling like I’m some homewrecker. I’ve been on the receiving end of shit like this from him, too. He’s not trying to be nasty to you, ‘promise. Come on, I’m not gonna let you freeze out here.” Art said, stepping in a bit. The glow from the pool left green and white wiggly lines across his cheeks.

“It’s spring, It’ll warm up. Get back up to that party, man. Patrick’s waiting for you.”

“You’re being impossible.”

[Y/N] set the half-empty bottle down beneath her chair. “Nuh-uh.”

“Jesus… if you’re gonna be a jerk about it, at least take this.” Art frowned, shrugging out of his suit jacket. He seemed disappointed.

“Oh, Art, please—“

“No, no! You made your choice. Don’t let me spoil your fun with you and the… the vodka,” Art said, making a show of taking the jacket off and throwing it over to [Y/N]. The balled up lump of fabric landed in her lap with a soft thud. Her stomach churned. “All hunky dory now,” He said, holding his hands out to show he was no threat. Art’s brows were lowered protectively close to his eyes in what [Y/N] thought was an effort to mask slight hurt or rejection. He turned to walk away as [Y/N] clutched the fabric of his jacket between her fingers. Art turned back to to look at her for a moment. [Y/N] didn’t know what that expression was meant to mean. “Be careful, okay? For what it’s worth, you—you look lovely tonight. It would be a shame for such a, uh, such a pretty girl in a pretty dress to end up face down, stuck in the pool drain. ‘Night [Y/N].”

[Y/N] was glad for the dark because she felt her face heat up and dopey smile start to form at the compliment. Maybe she was drunk, but that had to be flirting. In the most fucked up way possible, but still. Why? Art Donaldson didn’t even like her.

Art had only managed to take a few steps into the dewy grass when [Y/N] begrudgingly called out: “Art, wait!”

She hated that she liked the smirk on his face when he turned around. He could tell what she wanted by her tone. What kind of fucker takes no for answer happily and still sets himself up for a yes in the end. “Yes?” He asked, trying not to smile.

“Listen, you’re right—“ [Y/N] stood up confidently, sliding Art’s jacket around her shoulders. And she stood up too fast and knocked her sandals into the pool. “Shit!” She cursed. She was still an age where cursing felt cool and unfamiliar. [Y/N] stood on her unsteady feet and watched her sandals bob out to the middle of the pool, propelled by her kick. She was embarrassed now as well. The stakes of everything felt so much higher than sandals in the pool of her best friend’s backyard. Booze will do that to the sanest of folks. [Y/N] dropped her face heavily into her hands. Great.

Quickly, Art cut his eyes between her and the shoes and back again. “Where do they keep the pool net?” Art asked calmly, without missing a beat.

“The shed.” [Y/N] said miserably and pointed a few feet away. Art bounded across the pavement around the pool to the shed. He tugged once, then twice.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “It’s locked,” He reported to [Y/N] from practically halfway in the pruned hedges. Art started the walk back to her. Once he was beside her, Art placed a hand gently at her elbow. “Come back inside with me. Please. Patrick may be able to get us a key and we can…”

But [Y/N] looked so sad from behind her hands. Even though all of this was so childish. She was also wearing Art’s jacket now and that did things to his brain. Her dress wasn’t not low cut and he froze for a second. All he could do was stare.

“Just do what I would do,” Patrick said. “It’ll be fine, man. She’s already into you, I can tell.”

“Well, if she’s into me, why would I do what you would do? That’s an awful suggestion, Patrick.” Art protested.

Patrick spun around in his desk chair to face Art as he rolled a joint. “I’ve known her since before I knew you. Just, like, be spontaneous. That’s what I mean. Spontaneous. She’s into that because she’s like that too. And she’s… wicked mean, so don’t start shit. She’ll surprise you, but like, in a good way. What I said before makes me sound like a jackass,” Patrick paused to laugh. “Be in the moment. Don’t get in your head about it. Which you’re doing right now— I can tell, Arthur…” Patrick drew out Art’s full name (which he hated) to get under his skin.

Art stood up from the floor in frustration. He glanced at his watch. Too much time had passed. The window was metaphorically closing. Hastily, Art dashed to the door. “I’m going down there. Poor girl’s been waiting all this time because you, my friend, are a shitty advice-giver.”

“Spontaneous!” Patrick called after him with a grin.

Art stared at [Y/N]. Then he blinked. Then tilted his head to the side. Spontaneous. Before he knew it, he was tugging his shoes and socks off and diving into the pool. Art had been right, it was getting decisively cold and the pool water reflected that. Art swam out to where the wedges had floated too, which had actually been fairly far. He wasn’t sure if the net would have gotten them that easily. Art nicked the shoes by the ankle straps and shook his wet hair out of his face. As he paddled back, he glanced at [Y/N]’s expression. She smiled wide with joy and surprise at Art’s sacrifice.

“Art! Thank you so much!” She said when he flopped the waterlogged shoes onto the concrete. Art looked up at her from the water and he only looked up her skirt a little bit.

“It’s no trouble. Repayment’s in order, though.”

“Repayment…? What do you—“

Art wrapped his wet, callused hands around both of [Y/N] ankles and flipped her into the pool. She screamed as she splashed into the pool. Then laughed hard. Art wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of his life.

“Wait, fuck, you can swim, right?”

Fortunately, [Y/N] could, and that’s the move that won Art Donaldson his wife.

—

“Honey, you have to get up so you can get ready…” Art’s mouth moved against the shell of [Y/N]’s left ear. His arm was tossed over her middle. Normally, it was Art that dreaded getting out of bed, but clearly they enjoyed switching roles once in a while.

A nap had turned into two-and-a-half hours of [Y/N]’s soft snores while Art held her. He couldn’t sleep much, but luckily he had something beautiful to look at. She ripped into him about his staring problem all the time. Art couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. “No.” She mumbled.

“Please…” Art’s hand trailed under her shirt and climbed up, up, up.

“No,” she sighed. Art’s hands groped her left breast and [Y/N] didn’t particularly mind. She shivered at the contact. Art had known every inch of her body over years. Neither was bored yet, though.

“It’s one night. One party. We don’t have to stay all night… He’s not going to be there, Lenora told me when I RSVP’d.”

They had an unspoken rule. They did not name Patrick in conversation when sober. The wound was too fresh still.

“Don’t talk about him, or his fucking mom when you’re touching me like that,” [Y/N] all but moaned as Art’s left thumb circled her nipple. “‘Thought we had to get up…”

Art smirked. “We do. At least you’re awake now.” He teasingly withdrew his hand entirely from out of her shirt and scampered out of bed in one agile zip of a motion.

“Art!”

She groaned. Rolling on her back to look at the ceiling, she glanced over at Art walking through the master bathroom doorway in his briefs. What an incredible ass that man has. “Motivation to leave the party early.” Art said and popped off into the shower.

Maybe it was selfish. Patrick and [Y/N] and Art hadn’t spoken in almost a year. It was no surprise to the Donaldsons that Patrick was an addict. He had been addicted to almost everything and everyone that crossed his path. What they hadn’t expected was him becoming so out of control that he missed the wedding of his two best friends and was sent into rehab once he was declared medically stable. The one person that both Donaldsons had fought to have in their own personal half of the wedding party. And he wasn’t there. And the wedding was expensive enough to go through with it amid all the bad feelings over Patrick.

Still, they were invited to the Zweig family’s charity or whatever gala. They would go like they always had, too. But it would be their first time alone, so to speak.

[Y/N] regretfully got out of bed while Art showered. She moved to the closet and unzipped her paper thin dress bag. The gown itself was beautiful, but not all too expensive. The year had been tight in terms of money. The wedding and the honeymoon were pricey enough before you added in rackets and competition entry fees and coaching. Art was an expensive husband to have. He made up for it. He was playing at his best too, so [Y/N] hardly cared. Who could put a price on seeing Art smile like that?

[Y/N] cringed if she had to pay more than two-hundred dollars for shoes or a dress anyway.

The dress was green. She’d worn a lot of green since she met Art. [Y/N] dreaded wiggling into shapewear and spending too long on her hair. Art had it easy. A tie, a jacket and trading his nasty watch for his nicer one. It wasn’t fair. It never was with Art.

She got ready all the same. The straps rested on her shoulders, thicker than the early 2000s straps she had been dumped into the pool in. It was longer than that dress. Almost floor length instead of mid calf. It was elegant for its price tag.

Once the dress was on, [Y/N] tumbled into the bathroom to do her makeup. The shared counter was way too small for both of their shit to sit nicely on. She would complain about that when there was more money in the bank account to do something about it. Art was taking longer than normal in the shower. Boner, [Y/N] thought.

As she started to put her face on, she could see Art’s face in the foggy mirror behind her. The sound of the water stopping and the shower curtain being tossed back had gone unnoticed. He was smiling slightly. “You look nice.” He said softly. Art toweled off his shaggy hair harshly behind her. He kept looking at her.

This is how Art was. He made these remarkable heart eyes at her every time he saw her. [Y/N] could be wearing a potato sack and she would feel beautiful. That look, that staring problem, was worse a hundredfold when she was dressed up. He kept glancing at her. She could see him in the mirror. He wanted [Y/N] to see. The blue and brown of his eyes cast further and further down her body.

“Staring.” [Y/N] said simply. She didn’t even look away from her own face in the mirror.

“Yeah. And?” Art smiled cheekily. His face was bright red not from the warm shower water. He wrapped his towel around his slim waist. [Y/N] applied too much concealer and less blush. “I, of all people, am allowed.”

“Idiot.” [Y/N] said. Art dried his hands profusely on his towel, knowing she would squawk at him if he left wet handprints behind on her dress.

Art’s hands wrapped around her waist. Great pains were taken to prevent other wet spots from splopping up her dress. So, so gently, he kissed the left side of her neck from behind. “I was thinking—” Art was always gentle in his own way.

“Ooh, dangerous.”

“Shut up. Y’know, this is the first Zweig party where your placecard is going to say Donaldson on it…”

[Y/N] nodded softly. “Huh. Yeah. That’s true.” She said, smiling a bit.

“I’m really, really excited about that. On the seating chart, we’re the Donaldsons. Isn’t that so crazy…?” Art whispered into her plush skin. “Plural. Two of us.”

Teasingly, she nudged him back with her elbow. The smile was still wide on her lips. “You’re being such a girl about it.”

Art didn’t let go or relent. He pressed feather-light kisses between [Y/N]’s ear and collarbone. “Am I? Hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re going to be late to this thing you want to go to so bad, Mr. Donaldson, if you don’t stop.” [Y/N] whispered, incapable of doing more. She did set down her makeup sponge and pot of foundation with a clack.

“Would that be such a bad thing? Only a couple minutes, right? We could-we could cut out some of the boring small talk and…” Art said, daring boldly to drag his tongue up her throat as the steamed up mirror cleared some. He never finished his sentence verbally.

[Y/N] gasped at the feeling. That was a brave move for Art. “You drag me out of bed early so we can be late anyway. You don’t make any s-sense, babe.”

He huffed impishly. Art spun [Y/N] around to face him. His face and shoulders were damp from the water collected in his hair, which desperately needed a trim. Carefully, Art brushed [Y/N]’s hair away from her face. “You’re right… I’m sorry. Please let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

Then, Art’s mouth quirked into that crooked smile she loved so much.

“Please.” Art said in a hushed voice and boosted [Y/N] smoothly onto their rickety counter. “Give me ten minutes.”

“You can do better than ten.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Clock’s ticking.” When she said it, she heard Art’s knees hit the tile in front of her.