#we must remember they do both make mistakes at time

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

[bloomries]

y-you're too close!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : they get a little too close to your face— and how are you supposed to ignore their mesmerizing eyes or kissable lips?

warnings : gn! reader. kissing (lucifer, satan, belphegor).

LUCIFER

Lucifer had, of course, went to visit you- and you just so happened to be in an empty classroom at the time. He found you rather easily, almost having a sixth sense for your presence. Standing behind you, he watched as read some words from a textbook before writing down an answer.

He then leans down to whisper in your ear, to teasingly praise you for your hardwork, when you turn your head to the side at just that moment— your lips brushing over his.

"L- Lucifer!?" You squeak, before falling out your seat from trying to pull back much too fast. His eyes widen, and he swiftly catches you before you can cause too much of a commotion.

"Are you alright?" He holds back a laugh, meanwhile you're trying to not have your heart explode.

"I'm fine- I just- you were- why were you so close!?" You manage to get out as he puts you back in place, your homework long forgotten by now. He tries to hide the quirk of his lip, but you see it and know he's preparing to tease you.

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to turn your head and try to kiss me." He says, touching his lips and shaking his head. "You must conduct yourself in a more respectful manner."

"You know I wasn't trying to- you just snuck up on me!" Lucifer frowns, still putting on an act special to you. He'd never act in such a silly manner to anyone else.

"But you still kissed me. You'll have to be held accountable." You groan, looking up at him with a dismal expression. You make him almost take pity on you, but then again he was never known as merciful.

"And how do you suppose I make up for my mistakes?"

"Hmm, perhaps kissing me again? On purpose this time, of course."

MAMMON

"Mammon, knock it off," You groan, pushing him away from you. He had been bothering you for the better half of the day, clinging on to you. You don't normally mind, but Mammon also doesn't normally poke your sides and pinch your thighs.

"Noo," He whines, and this naturally leads into you two play wrestling, Mammon ending up with his face perhaps a little too close to yours when he pins you down against the bed. Your eyes widen when you realize just how close he is.

"Hey, let up." You struggle in his grip and he huffs, getting all smug.

"No way. I won fair 'nd squa...re.... ah," That's when Mammon realized just how close to your face he was. "Uh..." He doesn't pull away from you, though his grip loosens. Now you're both messes. Mammon's hot in the face, and you're trying hard to ignore how sweaty your palms have grown.

After a few seconds on bashful staring at each other, Mammon finally pulls away and lets out a shaky loud laugh. "Ha, well, I won. So... I get to stay."

You're still too flustered to deny him, so you just nod wordlessly. However, the tension in the air is thick, and Mammon is like a statue from how he barely moves.

Both of you painfully aware of the obvious affections you two have been showing nonstop over the last few months, but none of it being really faced until just now- when you two were basically a inch away from kissing.

"Should we, uhm, y'know, talk... about what just-"

"I just remembered I have to do, uh, dishes!" Mammon stood up abruptly. "I- I'll talk to ya later!" Oh, this is definitely going to cause a few awkward days in the House of Lamentation.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan and you had been up for hours on the new game he got, collecting items, ravaging villages, defeating enemies, and it all lead to now— the final boss. Through sweat, blood, and tears you two managed to defeat the final boss in a total of four minutes and fifty six seconds.

"Y- Yes!" You both shouted, cheering and jumping up from your seats, clinging on to each other with damn near tear in your eyes. "Yes! We did it!" Levi cried, squeezing you tightly.

You laugh with joy, pulling away from the hug only to be met face-to-face with Levi.

"Didn't doubt us for a second," You smile, a flirty lilt in your tone that has Levi sudden very conscious on how close you two are. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and he gasps- were you- no, no way! he was a gross otaku! you must be mistaken! yes, that's it!

And thus, Levi is quick to push your face away and accidentally push you back into your gaming chair. "Ow," you pout, and Levi gasps once more.

"S- Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Levi, really," You chuckle, and he awkwardly laughs with you. He sits down back in his seat, letting the end music play as he messes with the hem of his shirt.

"I thought, I thought you were going to kiss me for a second," He admits bashfully, chuckling as if that was impossible. You quirk a brow, leaning back in your seat and eyeing him.

"I was."

"Haha, yeah exactly you weren't- wait, what!?"

"I said, I was. I was going to kiss you, Levi." You push yourself forward, your face once again impossibly close to his and he chokes on his own breath before squeezing his eyes shut, lips puckering forward a little.

You press a finger to his lips, and he peaks an eye open- disappointed. "Aw, too bad you missed your chance today, how about you try again tomorrow?" Ah, he most definitely would- if he didn't talk himself down by then!

SATAN

"Wait, so, forward, right- uhm, oh!" You had asked Satan to teach you how to dance upon getting the invitation to Diavolo's upcoming ball. Apparently demons love ballroom dancing. However, in your attempt to learn, you've come to realize that you're dancing skills are possibly a little rusty.

"Sorry," You chuckle, you had tripped over your own feet for the umpteenth time, but at least it was Satan's? You sigh, looking up at him as he looks down at you, and oh. Oh wow.

It was quiet, except for the classical music playing softly in the background. Your heart is racing, and you fear that in your close proximity he might be able to feel it. He fears the same, his grasp on you tightening. He has that charming smile resting on his features, despite the storm in his mind!

How desperately you want to kiss him- and had his eyes always been so green?

Your certain your cheeks are on fire, and you want so badly for the ground to swallow you up. You can't form any words, just staring like a lovesick fool- and Satan is doing no better. He's at a loss for words, truly. How could he even begin to form a sentence worth interrupting this moment?

Then, a book falls to the ground with a loud thud- a mischievous tabby meowing and stretching somewhere. You both pull away, Satan's cheeks growing a rosy color as he clears his throat.

"Maybe we should take a break? I'll... I'll go get us some waters," You say, about to leave, however Satan can't help himself and pulls you by the waist towards him.

"Please forgive me," He whispers, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Kiss m-" With that, he kisses you deeply. A kiss that certainly will make itself into your dance routine with Satan at the ball next week.

ASMODEUS

"What do you think?" Asmo asks, scooting closer to you, showing off the new look he was attempting- and obviously he was nailing it. He looked perfect, but that wasn't unusual in his case.

"Pretty as always," You say, not really looking at him. He was always showing off looks that were amazing, so you already knew that it was perfect. He whines, shimmying closer to you.

"You're not looking!" He pouts, and you sigh, turning your head abruptly- not expecting him to be so close. Oh. He did look very pretty. And now your cheeks are warm. "Thank you! So, how does it look?" He asks, as if the close proximity wasn't bothering him.

"You look nice- good- you look... good..." He frowns. Well good wasn't good enough. He pulls back and checks in the mirror, but finds not a single product out of place. He whips back around towards you, getting even closer to your face.

"Just good?"

"You look beautiful," You say, and he blinks in shock at your earnestness. He's glad the make up is covering up the blush that surely spreads on his cheeks.

"Oh my, are you falling for my good looks?" His teasing comment ruins the moment, and you scoff, shaking your head as you turn to look back at your phone.

"You wish, princess." You say, pushing him away by the shoulder. You ignore the heart palpitations as you scroll through your DDD.

BEELZEBUB

"Oh, Beel, you got something right there..." You say, pointing to your cheek to where Beelzebub had some sauce. Beel looks down at the food in his hands- both hands were pretty occupied, so he leaned in for you to wipe it away for him.

"W- What?-" It seems he underestimated how small the table was, though, as he leaned in way too close! Face hot, you lift a shaky hand to wipe away the sauce with a napkin and then he shoots you the biggest, most kissable grin in the world.

"Thanks!" He chuckles, before leaning back and taking another bite of his food. You can only stare at the table now though, lest you wish to continue your rather romantic thoughts.

Beel notices this, and once again leans in close— Damn it, is he trying to give you a heart attack!? He furrows his brows as he inspects you, before frowning. Shit, did he realize that you were having definitely not friendly thoughts?

"Are you okay? You look a lil' sick." He says, leaning back. You let a silent breath of relief before nodding.

"I'm fine, just... just a little hot, that's all." And technically, you weren't lying.

BELPHEGOR

"Shuddup," Belphegor groans, rolling over on to his side to face you, before grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. You gasp, not from the action- honestly, this is a rather typical evening with Belphegor (he claims he "sleeps better" when you're near him) but you gasp due to how close your face is to his.

Usually you land near his chest or vise versa, but this face-to-face view was definitely making you grow quiet. Belphegor was pleased with this, before he realized it took quite a lot to usually shut you up. He peaks an eye open with a frown.

"What's your deal?" When you don't respond and instead try to wiggle out of his arms, he tightens his grip and gets even closer. "Hm? Trying to get away?"

"Yes! Let me gooo!"

"Nah," He grins, realizing what's happening. "I think you don't really want me to let you go anyways, right? You wanna stare at my face longer? Wanna kiiisss meeee?" You groan, wishing to strangle the annoying demon. He laughs when you don't deny him.

"I knew it," He flutters his lashes close and pouts his lips out a little, trying to appear 'pretty' or... something? You just shake your head, done with his teasing. Grabbing his collar, you admire his natural beauty for a second— after all, who knows when you'll be so close to his face again— before catching him off guard with a kiss

Letting go of you out of shock, you're quick to run away, leaving Belphegor in a stunned, blushing mess. Stupid humans...~

[bamsara]

what are your most favorite tropes? :3c

IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED:

Near death experiences

Emotional revelations due to said near death experiences

Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Mutual Pining but they believe its unrequieted

"you're my worst enemy but you're so important to me"

Drunk chapter where at least One fist fight happens

Bridal carry after someone gets injured

Slow Burn...of course

"i got you this gift because it benefits me and im not telling you how" (the benefit is seeing the other person enjoy the gift)

Force Alliances or Temporary Truces

"I don't like killing but I'll do it for you"

"I prefer to kill my problems but I won't, for you."

Or: "This person has no idea how many people I've killed in order to protect or provide for them and I'm going to keep it that way."

Mean or Villian Character is actaully a really good Sibling/Parent/Child,ect and has someone they care about

Or better, Villian character adopts child AND is a good parent

Everyone knows the pairing likes each other except for the pairing

Temporary (or non-temp)Amnesia

"I learn your favorite things because I plan to use them against you one day" (proceeds to not do that) (proceeds to get them food or items that persons likes just because they like them)

Breaking and Entering. Literally.

Person A is in love, Person B says they're not but they're 10x times worse actaully

Slip-of-the-tongue/Accidental confessions. Doesn't have to be love confessions but just "whoops i was not supposed to say that"

Biting as a love language

One is feral and bloodthirsty but is put in the position of 'protecting an idiot' because the other is also feral and has no self-preservation. Both characters must be badass, just equally stupid

Kiss on the head/cheek while the other person is sleeping

Bloodstained kiss

Heat-of-battle confession about something

Protagonist refusing to become villian or repeat villian mistakes, not in a 'owo i cant do that its bad' and more like 'fuck you you dont get to see what you wanted to make of me'

Signifier of 'this is my friend/family/lover'. Could anything between a ring, a jacket over someone's shoudlers or scent marking, anything

"if im immortal, then you gotta be too or we both dyin"

Knight x Their Charge

Human x Non-Human

Sunshine x Grump

Character that looks sooooo cute. Oh he's a little fucked up actaully

"ahhaha he's such a freak haha. i need him carnally."

They are mortal enemies. They are also best friends.

Hostage / Rescued trope plus Hostage / Doesn't get to rescue because the hostage killed everyone already

Plot info that's missing that's vital to the story and it's revealed that One of the pairing or someone in the group knew the info the entire time

"I said mean things to you because I hate you, so why am I feeling guilty now"

There was only One Bed

Really competent and scary character is really GOOD at a harmless and charming small hobby completely uncharacteristic to their public persona

Nightmares. And then sleeping in the same bed because of nightmares

Cultural differences / Language Barrier

Character gets so surprised flustered they trip over something or break something and it topples and it starts a chain reaction like a cartoon

There are more but these are some of which I can remember off the top of my head. I've written many of these myself in several of my stories and will continue to do so until the end of time, esp my faves

[fangirl-dot-com]

😈Track 4 - I Did Something Bad

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Alex was standing by the iconic bright blue garage. It was almost time for the rest of the grid to arrive for testing, but he didn’t care about that. All he cared about was George’s post from three days ago. The paddle game and its players were still a mystery to him. 

Who has George playing with? And why hadn’t he told him? 

Weren’t they supposed to be best friends? 

The Thai rolled his eyes as he scrolled through the numerous comments about how the two other players must have been Logan Sargeant and Y/n L/n. And if they were the players then that must mean that they will be the new Lamborghini drivers.  

He scoffed out loud. “As if.” 

“As if what?” a French voice sounded. Alex turned to look at his new rookie teammate. He tried to give the twenty-year-old a smile. He held up his phone, but the screen had gone dark Theo didn’t need to know that Alex was trying to find gossip like a middle-schooler. 

“Just fan theories,” he muttered, opening his phone back up and exiting out of Instagram and back to his messages. His eyes widened as he read through the chat. 

Theo’s eyebrow arched. “What’s wrong?” 

“George wants us over by the media pen. We got to go.” 

The two Williams drivers both started to quickly walk. Alex weaved through the crowds, turning back once every so often to see if Theo was still with him. For half a second, he remembered how he would just leave Logan to fend for himself. The American was often late getting to places because he didn’t know where anything was. At the time, Alex had said that he wasn’t responsible for his teammate. 

But now as he was navigating the big crowds at Bahrain, he wished he had spent a little more time with Logan, making sure that he was ok. 

However, that was in the past and Alex couldn’t waste time on it. Theo was his teammate now and Logan was off doing who-knows-what. On the inside, he was hoping to never run into the blond again. The American was just another sign of his mistakes. 

He always believed that he was the superior of the two, often questioning James as to why Logan hadn’t been replaced farther into the season like Nyck had been.

The team principal always rolled his eyes at Alex. 

“It’s because we aren’t Red Bull. We don’t want to drop Logan like Red Bull dropped you.” 

That had stung, but Alex always internally laughed. Logan was inevitably dropped by Williams, just like he had been with Red Bull. The only difference is that Alex stayed and extended his contract. Was this how Max Verstappen felt? 

Alex was so lost in thought that he didn’t see the back of someone and rammed into them.  

“Oh, hey mate.” 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hi Max,” he greeted back, rubbing his chest. “Did your back get bigger or have you always been this broad.” 

Max winced at the inuendo. Wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t be a string bean like Alex or George could be. 

“Ah, Albono, no need to be jealous that Max can probably bench press more than you.”

The Dutchman internally smiled at the familiar Monegasque voice. Charles had made his way over the moment that Alex ran into Max. 

Theo was right next to Alex still, reminding Charles of a lost puppy. He didn’t understand why Alex hadn’t let Logan do that last year if the Thai was fine with it this year. The Monegasque didn’t have time to ask before Lando and Oscar joined the bunch. His green eyes flitted over to George and Lewis who were whispering to each other. 

Lando had a grin on his face as he greeted the four drivers. 

“Hello mate.” The Briton clasped Max’s hand before going around. Oscar followed in suit. 

Theo, a little nervous around the older drivers, tried to make conversation. 

“How are the cars looking?” 

Suddenly he had five pairs of eyes on him, which maybe would have made others shrink away, but the Frenchman didn’t want to appear weak. 

Oscar’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “They look good. Maybe someone will win a race this year.” He poked Lando’s side, making the brunet squawk. 

“I’ll win if Max decides to DNF.” 

The group laughed a bit. Max responded with an huff. 

���For the last time Lando, you need to be faster to beat me. I won’t let you pass and if I’m behind you, I’ll just pass you again.” 

He had a cheeky grin making Lando pout. 

Charles turned back to Theo and Alex. 

“How are you two feeling about the cars?” 

The two Williams drivers perked up. They had been working hard all winter break to make upgrades. Alex would never admit, but most of the ideas had come from what Logan had said during 2023. They didn’t have a championship contending car, but they would be able to bring in some decent points. 

Theo took the opportunity to answer. 

“It looks all right. Hoping to make it into Q2 at least. We have good 1-lap pace.” 

Lando snorted. “You’ll definitely make it into Q2. I’m forecasting no crashes in Free Practice.” 

Theo’s head tilted. “How come?” 

“Because there’s not a certain driver on the grid this year. Now maybe I can win a race without having to go around his debris. ” 

“Lando you’re such a narcissist,” Max murmured, looking around hoping no one heard him. The last thing the Briton needed was another cancel culture on him. 

Lando’s green eyes widened. “What? I’m only saying the truth. Even Oscar was saying something about it this morning. Right mate? Logan will probably never put a foot in the paddock again.” 

Oscar looked down, semi-embarrassed, but also, again, he shouldn’t be worrying about Logan anymore. The Aussie looked back up. 

“Yeah, I mean, he crashed out a lot and it was all his own faults. It’d probably be better if he stayed away for a bit.” 

Max and Charles didn’t seem too certain that Oscar truly believed it. But the look in Oscar’s eyes did tell them that there was some truth. Max wanted to bring up the fact that Charles last year did crash out a few times, but he still had a seat. Charles’s hand on his back made him wait. 

It was silent for a moment before George walked up to the group. 

“The new drivers are about to walk in. Do you want to go with me to meet them?” 

Charles and Max looked at him and eagerly nodded. Oscar and Lando shrugged, but agreed to walk with George. Alex said nothing but still tagged along, which made Theo follow the older drivers. 

Time to go see who copped Logan’s driver number. 

Alex truly didn’t want to see another car with the number 2 on it that wouldn’t be Logan. It wouldn’t feel great. But Alex guessed that’s what the past was, an emotion that just gnawed on your insides until it went away with time. 

He once again ran into someone, but this time it was Lando. 

“Lando, why’d you…” 

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as his eyes were now glued to the turnstiles. 

There was no way. 

Logan grinned when his eyes landed on the small group. George, Max, and Charles were still walking toward him and you, but the other four stopped dead in their tracks. 

“Nice and sunny today?” Logan jokingly questioned as he hugged George first. You made yourself busy with greeting Max and Charles. 

You and Logan had decided to show up in the Lamborghini merchandise. Logan was in a black t-shirt but you were dressed in a Lamborghini issued pantsuit. But for the race next week, the two of you would show up in sponsor clothes. The yellow decals looks great against his black shirt. 

Charles smiled as he leaned back from the hug. “Looking a bit bee-ish today.” 

You rolled your eyes as you looked down your own suit that had bits of yellow intricately designed. 

“Charles,” you whined, “now I won’t be able to see anything else. Even our car is black and yellow.” 

You let out a huff, but the smile on your face contradicted how you were acting. Logan walked up next to you and greeted the other two, which gave you and George time to talk as well. 

“They’re still staring,” Logan murmured as he leaned in to side hug Max. 

“Let them.” 

The now group of five walked farther into the paddock. Logan had wanted to say something, or even look at the other four, but the look on their faces deterred him. With your arm linked in his, you pulled him along, also not giving him a chance to stop. 

“You don’t need them.” 

Logan nodded. 

Charles leaned closer. “They were so sure that Logan wasn’t going to come back this season. I think Lando was betting that Mick would be in the seat.” 

Your smirk grew. “Played them like a violin Logan. Making it look so easy for the rest of us.” 

Logan barely glanced back at the still stuck drivers, who turned around to watch them walk away. 

“They’re looking at me like I did something bad. But, why does it feel good?” the American male asked. His heart wanted to hurt because of how they treated him last year, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at their jaws on the floor. 

Max snorted. “Because they fucked you up last year mate.” 

George let out a gasp and put his hands over your ears. “No bad words around the children Max.” 

You quickly batted his hands away. “I’m twenty-two George. Also, why aren’t your hands over Charles ‘vanilla is the best ice cream flavor’ Leclerc’s ears instead?” 

The Ferrari-driver glared at you. “Says the woman who thinks chocolate is somehow superior.” 

The two of you started to bicker as you walked. George, Max, and Logan laughed from behind. Logan pulled out his phone and took a quick picture before opening his schedule to see who he was with for media. He quietly cursed as he looked at the names. 

George winced at the photo. “I can’t believe that they’re putting you with Lando, Oscar, and Alex.” 

A quick buzz from Max’s phone made him take it out quickly. He smiled as he showed Logan. 

“I guess they changed mine. I’m now with you and the wolves.” 

Logan tried to feel a bit better about it, but he was visibly deflating. He just hoped that he could sit next to the Dutchman without having to sit next to anyone else. 

Thankfully, when it was time, Max had saved him an end seat. It was Logan on the left, then Max, then Alex, then Lando, then Oscar. Logan hadn’t greeted any of them as he walked in, only giving Max a quick smile before they got started. He ran a hand through his hair quickly and his eyes looked over at John, his new PR manager. The older man gave him an encouraging nod as a journalist started to ask Max a question. 

To Logan’s delight, most of the questions were for Max about the RB20 and if it would be as fast as the RB19. Max went through the motions to give his most mundane answer he could muster. Logan started to pick at his fingernails as he waited for the next question, which was for him. His head rose to look at the small crowd. 

“James McHone, with News 5, question for Logan. Why did you come back to race for Lamborghini after a very unsuccessful rookie year with Williams?” 

He wanted to wince, but kept his face neutral. He raised the mic to his lips. 

“Well, uh, I thought I wasn’t done and hadn’t been able to show people what I could do. During 2023 season, I had multiple people telling me that Williams was the best I could ever get and to not throw away a good thing. But in the end, to people it seems that I did throw it away. However, now with Lamborghini and Michael, I think I can finally show that they made the wrong decision.” 

Whispers went through the crowd at his last statement, but the genuine smile on John’s face made him feel better. 

“Melany Lancy, with Circuit Noise, follow up question for Logan. Some drivers have mentioned that a possible return for you hadn’t been something that was believable and that Logan Sargeant should have never gotten into Formula 1. Thoughts?” 

Logan took a deep breath before answering. He smirked and rolled his shoulders a bit. 

“I know I’m a good driver with the right car, and Williams just didn’t have that for me. I believe that Lamborghini has everything that I require. The team has really listened to me and Y/n, my teammate, during the break. The car was designed for us. I hadn’t really heard any rumors regarding drivers saying I should have never been in Formula 1. But all I can really say is if they drop my name, I don’t own them anything. I’m just here to do my job and do it well.”

Logan wasn’t asked any more question after that, but he could see the embarrassed red start to fill in Oscar’s, Lando’s, and Alex’s faces. He hadn’t heard rumors, but he had heard them say that first hand back in Brazil. 

He was quick to stand up and leave once they got the go ahead. He had a big smile as he made his way back to the garage with Max in tow. Somehow, the Lamborghini garage was placed next to Red Bull. On the other side of the navy garage was Ferrari. 

The American could only laugh at the thought of them trying to put both Italian teams garages next to each other. Enzo Ferrari would roll in his grave and Tonino would have a fit. He glanced over to Max before lifting his hand in a wave. 

“Y/n! Lo sai che a Tonino verrebbe un infarto vedendoti nel garage rosso?” (You know that Tonino would have a heart attack seeing you in the red garage?) 

Max’s head whipped at the fluent sounding Italian that left Logan’s mouth. Logan chose to ignore and kept smiling. Even in the Ferrari garage, Charles’s eyes went wide at the sound. The Monegasque’s head turned to you waiting for an answer. 

You waved a hand down like being in the Ferrari garage wasn’t a big deal. 

“E piu come se Enzo si stesse rotolando nella tomba. Charles aveva fatto una prova del gelato per il suo negozio e ne volevo un po’” (More like Enzo is rolling in his grave. Charles had test ice cream for his shop and I wanted some.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. Max just stood there in an utter look of confusion and bewilderment. 

“Charles, hai altro da condividere?” (Charles, do you have more to share?” 

The Ferrari driver was still frozen as he listened to you converse with one of his engineers in fluent Italian. It scared him even more when he truly realized that Logan was fluent as well. He quickly shut his eyes and shook his head before answering. 

“Questi ragazzo. Sono io quello che finira presto nella tomba. Si, ne ho di piu.” (These kids. I’m the one that’s going to be in an early grave. Yes, I have more.) 

Charles beckoned them over. Logan took the lead, letting a still very confused Max follow him. He finally found his voice once he stepped into the garage. 

“Ok, but what the actual fu-” 

“Language!” you yelled, licking the spoon that was currently being used to eat more ice cream. “Charles, I think the tiramisu could use some more espresso. It’s still a bit too sweet.” 

Charles muttered something, but wrote some words down in a separate yellow notebook that had “LEC” on the front. 

Logan had found a cup of some strawberry and started to eat it. Max stood still but was handed a cup of a familiar green ice cream. He looked up at Charles with wide eyes. 

“I thought you said that this was an abomination to the ice cream society Charlie,” the Dutchman said with a smirk on his face. 

Charles went a bit red. 

“Well, you like it so…” he didn’t finish and just let the words die off. Max just hummed contently as he ate the peppermint flavored ice cream. After Charles finished writing something, he took a deep breath. 

“So, when did the two of you learn Italian?” 

Your mouth was full of ice cream so you nudged Logan. He put the spoon back in the little cup before answering. 

“Y/n and I always thought it’d be funny to learn a language so that we could talk about stuff together and not everyone would know. I wanted to learn Russian but someone couldn’t tell the difference between the vowels.” 

You let out a whine at his confession. 

“Russian also doesn’t sound as sexy as Italian.” 

Without realizing, Max hummed in agreement. Charles went bright red at that as well. 

“Anyway, so when we were in F3 together for a little bit, we started to buckle down and learn it. Took about a year and a half to master it but we did.” 

The Ferrari driver looked a bit pained as he looked down at his cup. If Logan knew Italian, what had he overheard when Charles wasn’t aware. Logan could only guess what he was feeling like right now. 

“Charles, I never overheard anything bad from you. And if I did, it was only constructive criticism. I actually listened to it a lot and it helped with COTA.” 

Logan put a hand on Charles’s shoulder to try to convey that he really didn’t care. The Monegasque was never mean or rude toward him, like some orange drivers were. And Logan thinks that’s why it hurts more. The people who were supposed to be his good friends were mean to him. And the people who he wasn’t even that close with were nicer. It made his brain hurt. 

You took this as a moment to also confess something. 

“Logan also knows Dutch.” 

The American went bright red under Max’s eyes. The Dutchman had a big smirk.  

“Weet je?” (Do you now?) 

Logan didn’t reply in the language. 

“Yes, I know some. I’m not as fluent as you are.” 

“He wanted to learn it so he could understand most of your other interviews where you talked more about the car.” 

“Y/n!” Logan whipped around and yelled. You only shrugged. 

“It’s the truth.” 

Logan then suddenly remembered something. He turned toward Charles. 

“Y/n knows French!” 

A spoon hit his head, but the American didn’t even flinch. This time, it was your turn to turn as red as the Ferrari car behind you. 

Charles cooed at, surprisingly, the both of them. 

“Aw, multi-lingual babies.” 

Your head was in your hands. “I am never talking to you ever again.” 

“Well that’s not helpful,” a male voice sounded at the front of the garage. Michael and Marissa were both smiling at the group of four. You slid off the table that you were currently sitting on. 

“I guess that’s our cue to go. Remember Charles, more espresso, less depresso.” 

You led Logan out of the garage as you followed the siblings. 

“Je te verrai plus tard petite abeille!” (I’ll see you later little bee!) 

You groaned once more after hearing Charles call after you. You glared up at Logan.

“You better be thankful that I love you.” 

Logan put a hand on his heart. “Aww, love you too.” 

“I still won’t hesitate to run you off the track though.” 

“Wouldn’t doubt it tesoro.” 

lamborghini_racing has posted

lamborghini_racing didn't throw away a good thing

liked by phoenix95, lamborghini, sargeant4ever, and 3,205,859 others

lambo_f1duo ok, but the caption slays 💅

swift_on_track truly is a reputations era, the black fits are fitting

charles_leclerc look, you even came in your little bee car 🐝

phoenix95 I will run you off the track with said bee car, it comes with a stinger

charles_leclerc ok, no more ice cream for you

phoenix95 I TAKE IT BACK PLEASE DONT DO THAT

f1_gridgang man, this team is going to be top of the grid

lambof1 your honor, I fear they slayed too much

venus2 has posted

venus2 i'd do it over and over and over again if I could

liked by maxverstappen1, sargeantgirlie, oscarpiastri, and 5,305,104 others

lambovsferrari glad to see you back in the paddock bro, wouldn't be the same without you 💪

loscar_no_more BAHAHAHA NOT OSCAR HIDING IN THE LIKES

my_goat_logan you're going to come back even better than before!

phoenix95 picture creds would be preferable 🤨

venus2 oh sorry, thanks max for taking the pictures

maxverstappen1 you're welcome!

phoenix95 I still have Charles in my garage

maxverstappen1 you give him BACK

phoenix95 no.

charles_leclerc THAT'S IT - NO MORE ICE CREAM FOR THE TWO OF YOU (Logan let me out)

venus2 on it

ferrari&lambo_crew by I know that Enzo is rolling in his grave rn and Tonino is on the verge of an aneurism

tswizzlexf1 the I Did Something Bad lyrics >>>>>>

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 it just felt so good

liked by venus2, barnes&noble, dior, lewishamilton, and 5,305,201 others

booktok she's a racer AND A BOOKWORM?? she's just my type

venusxphoenix and Logan's too apparently

y/n.nation I'm digging the new layout and profile

venus2 you're welcome for the books

phoenix95 could have gotten them myself (ily and thank you)

charles_leclerc you're being...too nice 🤨

venus2 she loves me

phoenix95 gag (affectionately) 🫶

charles_leclerc SEE

maxverstappen1 it's her love language

venus2 it's the same as you and max talking about each other to everyone else

charles_leclerc low blow man, low blow 👊😔

rari_lambo_quartet I love them your honor

bee_lamborghini so ready for the first race

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[draconic-desire]

DD’s Yandere Poll Series: Surviving the Yan!Penacony Boys (based on this post)

Rules/warnings: Read the below scenario and pick your answer or comment your own reaction. Dark content ahead!

Incident #3 — The Interrogation

Bright light floods your vision, eliciting a hiss as you repeatedly blink to regain your senses. Shielding your eyes is useless; your hands are pinned tightly behind your back, your wrists already starting to throb.

Once your eyes adjust, you find yourself tied to a chair, arms and legs bound to the wooden frame with thick rope. A few tugs and attempted kicks lead you to quickly relent that your bindings aren’t budging.

Shaking the fuzz from inside your head, you examine your surroundings.

While most of the room is cloaked in shadows, your chair is illuminated with a bright spotlight, highlighting the laminated flooring beneath your feet. Directly in front of you stands a long bar, perched upon a podium to elevate any individual behind it. The room is completely bare otherwise, giving a cold, clinical appearance.

How in the Aeons’ names did I end up here?

“Ah, you’ve finally regained your senses.”

You jolt, the voice to your left sending gooseflesh across your skin. It’s deep, full of condescension and authority, and almost certainly male. Sweat trickles down your neck.

Confirming your suspicions, a tall, muscular figure steps from the shadows beside you.

Your already rapid heartbeat skyrockets. Despite his scowl, the man is undeniably handsome—golden eyes to complement his dark purple locks, full lips and strong, toned arms on display thanks to his single-sleeved attire. You’d typically be blushing as he grips the back of your chair with one arm and leans down close to your face, if it weren’t for the unwelcome and compromising position you’re in.

You struggle to swallow. “I—um, sir, there must be some mistake—”

“You are (Y/n) (L/n), are you not?” he interrupts. His breath, minty with a touch of sage, tickles your nose as he closes the gap between the two of you even further.

“Um, yes…?” You cringe at how pathetic you sound, but really, how else are you supposed to react when a stranger has you apparently kidnapped and tied up?

The man rolls his eyes. “Come now, at least admit to your own name. If you can’t do that, how can you own up to the consequences of your actions?”

Head spinning, you ignore the fact that you think he just implied you’re stupid to instead focus on his latter comment. Despite your situation, you can’t help the spark of indignation that rages in your chest. Maybe that’s what makes you stupid: your sharp tongue. “Excuse me? Consequences? Are you lecturing me? And how do you know my name? Who even are you? Why am I here?”

Tilting his head slightly, the man lets a subtle smile pull at his lips. “Finally asking the right questions.” He stands and paces behind the podium in front of you, appearing like a judge presiding over court.

“My name is Dr. Veritas Ratio, and you, (Y/n), are my wife.”

You jerk back like you’ve been hit. That is certainly not what you were expecting.

A startled laugh escapes you. “I don’t have a husband.”

Ratio hums in response, jotting down something in a book he pulled from his robes. “And what is the last thing you remember before you woke up here?”

“Woah, woah, are we just going to glance over the fact that you’re claiming we’re married?!” you shout, panic creeping into your bones. So not only have you been kidnapped, but the individual holding you is also insane. Great. “I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

A deep sigh fills the room, followed by the sound of lead scratching against paper. A low mumble that you can barely discern contemplates, “Perhaps the dosage was too high this time? Such an amnestic response is unusual… Could a physical stimulus be required to invigorate her hippocampus?”

The damn man is treating you like a science project!

Before you can retort, he pulls out two small vials of liquid, both no larger than your thumb. He sets them down on the table before you and gestures to each individually.

“You now have a choice. Drinking this,” he motions to the right, at the vial possessing a golden liquid flecked with sparkling, iridescent particles, “will restore your memories. You’ll remember me, and everything that led up to this point.”

Remember him? Did he drug you into forgetting, and this was the next step in his experiment? If what he claims is true, why would a husband ever do that to his wife? Your head throbs.

“Or, choose this vial,” he points to the lefthand bottle, a concoction so dark it mirrors the midnight sky, “and you will forget everything and get to walk out that door shortly after.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Surely there was some sort of catch. His language was too vague to be of any comfort at all.

“Why are you making me choose at all? This all seems like one really fucked up joke.” You tug at your bindings again, letting out a growl of frustration.

Ratio pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You’re lucky I’ve grown so fond of you that I can overlook your insipid questioning. You will choose.”

“And what happens when I do? Surely it’s not as simple as remembering you or being freed. You don’t seem like a man who would go to all the trouble. What’s in this for you other than forcing me to be your little lab rat?”

After a pregnant pause, Ratio clucks his tongue. “Fine. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I give away the answers. You’re clearly not thinking straight.” He places his notebook down and picks up a vial in each hand, holding the small things between his thumb and index fingers.

“The gold bottle here will completely restore your memories. You want to know the whole truth about us? How you ended up in this room? Why it’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation?” Your breath hitches; what did he mean not the first time. “Then drink this one. It will probably give you a leg up, since you’ll recall all those past times you tried oh so fruitlessly to escape me.”

He then raises his opposite hand as your horror builds. “Alternatively, this vial will completely wipe your memories, but only of me. You’ll recall everything about yourself, your life, hobbies, et cetera…but in doing so, you will be helpless the next time we meet. You will have no defenses, and one way or another, you will be my wife again. That much has already been proven true.”

The floor falls from underneath you. Aeons, how many times have you taken that midnight liquid? How many times have you been in this very scenario, drugged into forgetting him, only for him to court you time and time again. Clearly you must reject him each time, but he’s so lost in his obsession that he has to reset you each time you try to flee. The thought makes you immediately nauseous.

Despite your dry throat, you manage to croak out, “And if I refuse to take either?”

Ratio’s expression darkens, his chin tipped up haughtily. “Don’t test my patience, (Y/n).”

You gulp, eyes flicking back and forth between this two hands. You must choose.

[imtryingbuck]

Weightless

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus-size fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and yn date and his dad’s nasty to her because of her weight (as always, I’m amazing at summaries.)

Word count: 4,707

Warnings: angst. Bucky’s parents being the worst. Bucky being the best. swearing. insecure reader. modern au. being mocked for having a poor background. mentions of cheating (not bucky or reader) ends in fluff

A/N: remember every body is perfect!

Masterlist

Waking up in the warm embrace of Bucky’s arms, he’s warm breath fanning lightly over her neck tickling her ever so slightly. Trying to shift out of his hold causing him to tighten his muscly arms around her.

“Buck I need to go toilet” she whispered.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“You’re warm” is all he says as he pulls her body even closer to his.

“But Buck I really need to wee, I’ll be right back” promising in hopes that he’d let go of her.

“Okay, promise you’d be right back?”

“Promise”

“Gimme a kiss first”

Turning in the arms of her boyfriends she give him a kiss he released her, getting out of the bed she couldn’t stop the small smile from forming watching as he pouted and made grabby hands at her.

Finishing off in the bathroom Y/n raised an eyebrow at the man-child in the bed who was still pouting at her.

“Hurry, I’ve already forgotten what you feel like”

“Dramatic much?”

“Nope” he smirked.

Climbing back into the bed Bucky wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her bringing her closer to his chest than before.

“You definitely coming tonight, right?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea Buck”

“Why isn’t it? Me and you all dressed up, free food and booze, dancing, we even have to sneak off to find a bathroom-“

“Have to?”

“Oh it’s a must baby, I’d probably die if we don’t” he says grinning.

“Idiot”

“Plus I know you already have a dress, Nat told me so…”

It’s true Y/n did have a dress already, Nat and Wanda had dragged her shopping with them both in search of a new dress for Bucky’s parents anniversary party. Wanda had actually picked it out for her and at first she was a bit apprehensive until Wanda squeezed her hand with hers and telling her that the dress was in her size.

The girls all but forced her into the changing room with encouraging words and smiles. Y/n had to admit Wanda did pick out a stunning dress for her to try on and when she stood there finally finding the courage to look at herself in the mirror a small smile made its way on to her lips. The dress was beautiful and fit perfectly; not too baggy, not too tight, even her arms looked alright in the dress.

When she stepped outside to where the girls were waiting their jaws practically fell off. Both telling her that the dress was made for her, making her roll her eyes at the pair. A woman had walked by and complimented Y/n which made her blush and smile shyly at her.

However there was a problem with attending the anniversary party with Bucky. Problem being that she hadn’t been given an invite.

Everyone received a formal invitation with no mention of a plus one, Bucky and his sister had even received a card. Nat and her boyfriend Bruce received individual cards, Wanda and her boyfriend had individual cards, same with Steve and his wife Peggy.

But not her.

And at first she thought it was okay as her and Bucky had only been dating for two years but when Wanda told her that Vis had been invited after them only dating for a few months, it hurt. Y/n wasn’t stupid to the knowledge that her boyfriend’s parents didn’t like her, they made that very clear from the moment she had met them, with the questions and judgemental stares, the remarks about the difference between herself and Bucky’s ex Dot was enough to tell her that they did not like or approve of her or her relationship with their only son.

Winifred tolerated Y/n purely for her sons sake, she made the mistake once of calling her Winnie just as everyone else did and she looked at her in absolute disgust and told her not to call her that, that only family and friends can call her by that name. 

George made comments about her weight from the beginning. His favourite pass time was to repeatedly remind her of how Dot was perfect for Bucky, he once told her that all she was to Bucky was something to pass the time with until Dot came back, and sadly she agreed with his statement.

Bucky bless his heart didn’t know any of this and genuinely believed that his parents liked his girlfriend.

Since she hadn’t been invited the plan was to make out to Bucky that she was ill right at the last minute, so all she had to do was play along for a few more hours.

“The dress is beautiful I have to admit”

“Just like you. Do you want to get dressed here so we can leave together?”

“Oh um my dress is at my apartment, so you can pick me up for there”

“Or I can come to yours and get dressed?”

Shit.

“My apartments a complete mess” she lied.

“And? Baby we’ll go to yours in a few hours have a shower, get dressed ooh can I braid your hair? I love doing it! And we can leave together, that way I don’t have to be away from you for long and I’ll save money for petrol”

Double shit.

There was no way of being able to back out of this now, she knew that she’d have to go to a party that she wasn’t invited too and hope to a higher power that neither one of his parents say anything.

“Okay”

Bucky happily braided her hair after carefully brushing the knots out. He started to learn how to do it after a couple of months into their relationship and now he was a pro.

“All done baby” he says pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Thank you Buck”

“Okay, okay go put on your dress, I’m dying to see it”

The smile was no longer present as she looked in the mirror, the dress was no longer perfect, it was tight around her stomach and her arms looked like tree trunks. She looked ridiculous and felt like it.

Tonight was going to be humiliating, she was going to embarrass Bucky in front of his family, his friends and strangers.

“Baby? You nearly done?”

“I-“

“Babe? Is everything alright?”

“I need you to close your eyes for me Bucky”

“Ooh I like this, okay my eyes are closed my love”

Slowly opening the door her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Bucky standing there in his black suit, hair done perfectly and his eyes closed with a soft smile on his lips.

“Baby, can I open my eyes now?”

“N-no. No please don’t”

“Y/n? Sweet girl what’s wrong?“

“N-nothing Bucky. I-um-I just remembered-“

“Fuck. Baby you… you’re stunning!”

“What?”

He moved closer to his girlfriend, eyes full of adoration and a hint of lust. “You’re so beautiful, and this dress is so gorgeous on you. I’m so lucky to have you by my side”

Bucky always knew how to make her feel beautiful and confident even in her darkest of moments when the voices in the back of her head get to loud for her to ignore, in the two years of their relationship there’s only ever been two occasions where she didn’t believe him. The first being when the two had sex for the first time and he kept the light on, she had told him he could turn the light off so he was more comfortable, his face contorted in confusion and he reassured her that he wanted to see her as he made love to her, the whole time he spoke words of love and affection. She honestly believed he was lying so he could get what he wanted from her. 

And the second time was right now. Standing here in front of him as his eyes moved up and down slowly over her body, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, speaking the words that he spoke daily to her, she just couldn’t help but think that he was lying again.

“Buck, I-I look ridiculous. I think you should just leave an-and tell Nat and Wanda that I fell ill, okay?”

“What are you talking about baby? You look perf-“

“It’s too tight, and look at my arms James. It fit perfectly in the store… I-I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to embarrass you okay? So you go and have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow I promise”

“It’s not tight. Your arms are perfect. Nothings happened baby okay. You could never ever embarrass me, hell even if you wore a bin bag I’d still be so proud to call you mine. Sweet girl if you don’t want to go, that’s fine we can stay here and watch films but I’m not going anywhere without you”

“Its your parents anniversary party Buck you have to go, I’ll be fine I promise”

“So? I’m not going without you doll”

That went on for nearly 30 minutes.

“Okay. I’ll go with you but I’m chang-“

“Nope, you’re staying in that dress beautiful girl. Now get your shoes on so we can leave”

At the venue where the party was being held she couldn’t stop fiddling with her fingers and when her eyes saw a man at the door taking names her stomach dropped.

“Names”

“James Barnes and Y/n L/n”

The man looked up at Bucky and smiled letting him through, Bucky held her hand to lead her in when the man’s rough voice stopped the both.

“Excuse me Miss but you’re not on the list.”

“What do you mean she’s not on the list?”

“There’s no Y/n L/n on here sir”

“There’s got to be a mistake.” Bucky frowned, eyes shifting from her to the man.

“No mistake, I’m afraid sir”

“But she’s my girlfr-“

“Buck, it’s okay I’ll just head home. Enjoy your night” Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek she pulled her hand away, trying desperately to ignore the stares and mumbles from people around.

“Baby, Y/n hold on a second”

“Bucky it’s fine honestly”

“I’ll ring my dad and see-“

“No babe it’s okay really-“

“Y/n-“

“James, about time you showed up” George’s loud voice interrupted Bucky.

“Dad Y/n’s not on the list for some reason?”

“Oh? That’s strange, anyway come on son your mother wants to see you”

“But dad my girlfriend…”

“Oh fine, she can come in too. Now come”

Bucky’s eyes found hers and she tried so hard to get him to see that she didn’t want to do this but all he did was grab a hold of her hand and followed his father.

Despite how large the room was the air was stuffy, it felt like there was hardly any room for people to move around. Overcrowded and her very own personal hell is the best way to describe the hall.

The lingering looks from those around made Y/n self-consciously pull on the dress, she even tried to breathe in as long as she could.

“Son your mother wants to see you, on your own if you don’t mind” George says the last part to Y/n, nodding and sliding her hand out of Bucky’s she smiled at him - well at least she thought it was a smile it was more like a grimace.

“I’ll be right back okay, Nat and Wanda are over there” pointing over to where the two redheads were her eyes followed.

“I’ll see you soon”

Bucky takes his leave and so does she before George’s hand stops her.

“I want to talk to you” not giving Y/n a chance to reply he all but drags her off and away from the sea of bodies.

“What are you doing here? You wasn’t invited”

“B-Bucky made me come” George raises a thick eyebrow and she quickly notice she mistake “Sir”.

“You look horrendous. There was a reason for why my wife and I didn’t invite a disgusting, fat nobody like yourself, want to know why?”

“W-why sir?”

“Our soon to be daughter in law is here and to be truthful my wife and I can’t be doing with your dramatics, again.”

Again. Y/n knew he was talking about the time Bucky had made her jump causing the glass to fall from her hand and shatter on the floor of the kitchen floor. The apologies that slipped out of her mouth none stop as Bucky assured her that it was okay and he’d clean it up, Winifred hissed “your useless”, she tried to pry the dust pan and brush away from Bucky’s hands so she could clean up the glass but all he did was move her away with a smile on his face.

The glares that were given to her by his parents, aunt and uncle made the tears well up and annoyingly slip out. Y/n felt so bad for breaking a glass that didn’t belong to her and even worse as Bucky was the one cleaning it up.

She didn’t dare tell him that she had a shard of glass stuck in her foot.

“I-I-“

“What does he see in you huh? Must be a decent fuck, that’s the only reason we can see him being with you” he taunted, never in the nearly two years she have been unfortunate enough to know him has he ever spoken to her like this.

“It’s embarrassing that you came to a party that you was not invited too. Did you come to see how the rich live? Your parents too poor to keep a roof over the heads for the gaggle of children your mother shot out of her cunt.” Her nose flared at the way he spoke about her mum, normally she would have defended her but George had managed to render her speechless.

“Listen child this so called relationship between yourself and my son doesn’t make sense, he needs a real woman by his side not someone who is clearly trying to be something it clearly isn’t.” His hand reached out to grab her stomach and pulled, flinching as it happened she tried to pull away. “Dolores and James will get back together, they will get married. Matter of fact he’ll be proposing tonight and my beautiful Winnie and I will be happy to have her as our daughter in law. How about you run along back to the hole you crawled out of”

The small patch of her stomach was still in his hand, she knew that a bruise was already forming, he shoved her backwards.

“Go or I’ll call security.”

Stumbling backwards she turned the corner just to see Bucky standing with Nat, Wanda, Steve and Sam. And Dot. Her arm wrapped around Bucky’s as she clings on to him.

Was the pain there because of the realisation that she never stood a chance of being good enough for someone who proclaimed their love for her at every opportunity they had?

Or was it because of how happy he looked?

Or maybe it was because Dot looked up and locked eyes with hers and smirked.

Either way her heart ached painfully in her chest.

Sticking close to the walls Y/n kept her head down so she wasn’t seen by her now ex-boyfriend and his friends and so that the other party guests wouldn’t see the stream of tears flow down her reddened cheeks.

The exit was just in reach when her name was called.

“Y/n-sweetheart what is wrong?” Peggy asked worriedly.

“I-I-…I don’t feel so good. Bye Peggy”

“Y/n where’s Bucky? He shou-“

“Don’t, don’t tell him I’ve gone okay. It won’t matter anyway, thank you Peggy for being my friend for the pa-past two years”

Y/n sees how her eyebrows flick in confusion but before the British brunette can respond she rushes out through the doors she had come through not that long ago.

The slow drum of her heart feeling heavier with each step she took, the laughter and cheers mocking her pain fading in the background as the tears rolled down and off her cheeks.

“Hey ma” greeting her with a kiss to her cheek Winnie’s face lit up seeing her son.

“Oh Bucky you’ve arrived. Guess who’s here too!”

“A lot of people” Bucky chuckled.

“Dottie’s here” she beamed up at him.

“What? Why is she here?”

“She’s family Buck, stop being rude”

“Did you know that Y/n wasn’t on the guest list?”

“Who?”

The frown Bucky wore deepened, she’s met his girlfriend on numerous occasions. “My girlfriend ma-“

“Oh her, I thought she was your friend”

“Are you joking me right now? She my girlf-“

He’s cut off by a high pitched voice that he hadn’t heard in four years, the voice he had no idea how he put up with for a year. The same whinny voice belonging to the woman he was in love with until she broke up with him out of the blue and then a few days later she was dating the guy who spent year’s tormenting him. Brock.

“Bucky! It’s been so long”

“Hi” he mumbles making sure Winnie notices his death stare.

“How have you been?” Dot goes in to give Bucky a hug, frowning as he takes a step back.

“Fine thanks, ma I’m going to find Y/n I’ll see you in a bit”

“Who’s that?” Dot asks.

“His friend Dottie”

“She’s my girlfriend. Has been for the past two years-“

“Oh…that’s around the time I broke up with Brock, he wasn’t worth my time”

That’s not exactly what happened. Yes she broke up with him but it wasn’t because he wasn’t worth her time but because she walked in on him having sex with her best friend.

He remembers the day he received multiple missed calls, he sat in his car staring at the text message from Dot telling him what had happened and how she had messed up and that she wanted him back. Bucky sat and read the message over and over again he didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

Laugh at the fact she had gotten karma, he had a nagging feeling that she had cheated on him with Brock so he thought it was fitting that she had to go through that.

Cry because she had messaged him about her life problems on the day he had his first date with Y/n. It had been two years since Dot had ruined him, two years on and he was still affected by what she had done. Then he met Y/n, he finally gained the courage to ask her out when she said yes he played cool but internally he was screaming.

The day his ex was having the worst day of her life as she put it, he was having the best day of his.

“I need to find Y/n”

“I’ll come with you, I want to meet the girl who’s been holding my place”

Before Bucky had time to respond Dot had wrapped her arm around his and dragged him off.

“Oh guys it’s been so long since I last saw you” Dot squealed as she got closer to Bucky’s friends who were huddled around together.

“What is she doing here Buck?” Nat asked with her arms crossed, Bucky felt like she was staring into his soul with how intense Nat was looking at him.

“I’m his date silly!” The friendship group all snapped their heads towards Bucky whilst his went to Dot.

“Let go of me. I’m not playing Dolores”

“Nope, it’s meant to be me and you James just like we always talked about”

“You’re insane aren’t you? He has a girlfriend who’s a thousand times better than you” Wanda spoke before Bucky could. Wanda never did shy away from making her hatred known for Dot.

“I heard she’s fat.” Dot sneered.

Now it was Natasha’s turn to jump in before Bucky or Wanda could defend Y/n “she isn’t and even if she was it doesn’t matter. Like Wanda said she’s a thousand times better than you-“

Bucky didn’t stop the smile from forming as his friends defended the girl he was in love with, the one who he knew was his everything. The one he brought a ring for with Peggy by his side, the ring sat in his sock draw waiting for their third year anniversary so he could get down on one knee. At first he thought it was a bit too soon but like Peggy reminded him, Steve proposed after only six months and they’d been happily married for nearly five years now.

Bucky is lost in his own little world drowning out his friends who each take it in turns to berate Dot, he’s oblivious to his surroundings and is completely unaware that Y/n sees him with Dot still on his arm, nor does he notice the smirk on Dot’s lips as she makes eye contact with Y/n.

The bubble pops as his father takes the microphone, the hall goes quiet as his father moves closer to his mother. His blue eyes bounced all around the grand hall in search for Y/n, as he does so he tries to shake off Dot.

“-my wife and Is 25th anniversary, truly has and always will be the love of my life-“

George’s voice filters in and out as Bucky starts to worry even more about where Y/n was, he sees Peggy pushing by people in a haste.

“Bucky, it’s Y/n… she’s left and she was crying. I tried to stop her, she thanked me for being her friend for the past two years. What’s going on?” Her eyebrows furrow when she sees Dot and how close she is to Bucky.

“W-when?”

“A few minutes ago.”

Bucky pushes Dot away and makes his way through the crowd, not apologising when he bumps into those in his way.

He gets to the double doors that lead to the hallway, he’s so close he could feel the cold air, when George’s voice that’s amplified by the microphone stops him.

“I want to welcome my son James and his darling fiancée Dolores up on the stage”

Stopping dead in his tracks he slowly turned to face his father with a puzzled look, George’s lips turn into a smirk.

The crowd cheers and claps unaware or unfazed by Bucky’s reaction. He sees Dot moving towards George with a beaming smile, he also sees the glares and confused looks from his friends.

“Come on son, don’t keep you beautiful fiancée waiting” George says through gritted teeth.

Bucky’s feet lead him before his brain can catch up.

He’s halfway through the crowd, ignoring his friends shouting at him in the background Bucky holds his head up even if heart is beating violently. He has to do this, he can’t fail himself or Y/n.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about father. I’m not going to marry Dot, Y/n is my-“

“Say girlfriend I dare you” George growls.

“She is my girlfriend Father”

“She’s a fat nobody who’s only using you for your money, stop playing around and get up here”

Bucky flinches at George’s words, he knows it isn’t true Y/n never lets him spend his money on her. The only time he gets to spoil her is on her birthday or on Christmas. Not once has he ever thought of Y/n being fat, if he’s being honest he’s never noticed her weight to him she’s the definition of perfect.

He knows one day in the future he will regret the heartache he’s about to put his mother through but right now he doesn’t care. Turning his head in his mothers’ direction he sees the smirk she wearing, maybe he won’t regret this. He takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales.

“Did you know his secretary he sacked two years ago is his mistress? She’s pregnant, and oh she’s standing just over there”

Though he feels slightly guilty at his mothers’ fallen face and at the tears already gathering in her eyes, he doesn’t stop himself from smiling when his father stands there on the stage in front of everyone he knows spluttering out incoherent words, George’s eyes bounce from Winnie to his mistress who’s trying to blend into the wall, trying hard to get away from the judgemental stares from those there.

“Oh and no I won’t be marrying Dot, congratulations on your 25th anniversary father.” And with that he leaves to find Y/n, laughing at his friends who all cheer at the scene he just caused.

“Baby I know you’re in there, please open up” He knocks for the umpteenth time.

Hearing the familiar clicking of the locks he’s greeted by a red eyes, tear stained cheeks of his love.

And a box.

“T-these are you’re things”

“No baby please let me in, I need to talk to you”

“There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, congratulations on your engagement I-I hope you have a wonderful life”

“I haven’t proposed yet-“

“Oh, okay break up with me then”

“I haven’t proposed yet... to you” he breathes out.

“W-what?”

“Can I come in and explain? Please”

Nodding Y/n opens the door wider for him to enter, Bucky removes the box from her hands replacing his in them instead he leads her to the couch. Wiping the freshly falling tears he tells her what had happened from Peggy telling him that she had left, to his father, right to him outing his father’s affair.

“Bucky!” she scolded; she was there with Bucky when he caught his father having sex with his 22 year old sectary. She tried to convince him that he should tell his mum, held him as he cried after he got himself worked up with all the emotions.

“What? They both had it coming, I also told her that the mistress is pregnant and pointed over to where she stood” he smiles “baby I had no idea what they was doing I swear-wait how did you know about the engagement?”

“Oh… your father told me-“ It was then Y/n’s turn to tell him everything that has happened over the nearly two years of her knowing his parents.

“Ba-baby I-I didn’t know, I’m so sorry” he chokes out, his throat swells up due to him trying not to cry. The guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks when he remembers all the times he dragged her with him to his parents house, or how it took her to tell him everything for things to make sense like how she always shut down for a few days after they spent time with his parents or how she would never eat in front of them, so many things made sense and the guilt was swallowing him whole.

“It’s oka-“

“No its not Y/n, I should of realised and baby I’m so fucking sorry”

“Ma-maybe if you go back and apologise to them they won’t be to mad, maybe they’ll understand and-and you and Dot can still get engaged” she hesitantly says even though it broke her heart.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your fathers right Buck, I’m not good enough for yo-“

“Shut up. Y/n I swear to god don’t say that ever again! Please don’t ever think that you’re not good or enough for me because I can promise you right here, right now that you are and always will be baby”

Before Y/n can respond a knock sounding from the door makes both jump, Bucky goes to open it instantly smiling as their friends all stand there, Sam and Wanda hold up pizza boxes with wide grins on their faces, letting everyone in Steve waits behind.

“Buck, here” the blonde whispers, holding the small box out that he instantly recognises.

“H-how?”

“I’ve got a spare key remember, I really don’t think you should wait Buck.”

“Thanks punk”

“You’re welcome jerk”

Watching from the doorway as his friends make themselves at home and seeing a genuine smile grace Y/n’s beautiful face as she stared back at him.

“I love you” he mouths.

Every time he says them words, he means them with his whole heart his entire begin.

He closes the door behind as his walks towards his future.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[moonstruckme]

Girlllllll I'm literally obsessed with emt!Marauders. Could you maybe write one where the reader is at their apartment for dinner or something, and starts to have a panic attack, and thinks they're dying and gets the Marauders because they believe they're having a heart attack? Thanks :)

Thanks for requesting love!

cw: panic attack

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

At first you mistake the pounding on the door for your heartbeat. It thunders in your chest, beating against your rib cage like it's vying for escape. But then the sound comes again, and you remember than you actually did go through with making the call. 

You go to get the door, opening it to find a startlingly attractive paramedic wiping his shoes on your mat. Dark eyebrows rise, disappearing behind a mop of curly hair, when he sees you. 

“You look a bit young for a heart attack,” he says. 

“James, don’t fuck around.” Another man, taller, shoulders past him carrying a medical bag. “You called emergency services?” he asks you. You nod mutely, having discovered over the phone that talking only makes your chest hurt worse. “Alright, can we come in?” 

You nod again, backing away from the door to give them room to enter. A third paramedic follows, immediately taking you by the elbow and guiding you over to your own couch. “Hi, doll, I’m Sirius. What’s your name?” 

You wheeze out an answer, sitting when Sirius encourages you downward. He seems unperturbed by your agitated state, smiling as he crouches in front of you. Any other time, the effect would be heart-stopping. You wish it worked like that now. 

“Y/n, do you have a family history of heart problems? Any pre-existing conditions?” You shake your head no to both, and he nods calmly. “Okay, but you think you’re having a heart attack, huh?” 

You press a hand to your chest, tears invading your vision as the other paramedic—James, you’d heard him called—squats beside Sirius, looking at you concernedly. 

“It hurts,” you croak out. 

“Got it,” James reassures you. He passes a pair of gloves to Sirius, who begins wiggling them on. “When did it start to hurt? Did anything happen that might’ve caused it?” 

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. Your lungs feel like they could collapse in on themselves at any moment, but James holds your gaze, grounding you. “It just—I was making dinner, and it just started.” 

“I understand,” he says, voice soothing. “Okay, I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on here. You’re having a panic attack, sweetheart.” You must look anguished at the lack of validation for your hurt, because James sets a gloved hand on your forearm, rubbing comfortingly. “It’s really scary, I know, but you’re not dying. We’re gonna get you feeling better, alright?” 

You want to trust him, you really do, but everything in your body is contradicting him right now. You’re dying, you know it. You can feel it in your bones. A tear spills out of your eye. 

“It’s all right,” he promises you. “Listen, this here is Remus, he’s going to help get you breathing a bit better for us, yeah?” The second paramedic, the one who’d come in with the bag, sits down on the couch beside you. He gives you a small smile, the myriad of small and large scars across his face shifting with the movement. James gives your arm a solid pat. You try not to jolt. “You’re in good hands, I promise.” 

“Hi, are you comfortable?” Remus asks you. He has a gentle sort of voice, a bit raspy but soft where it counts. 

You’re sitting with both feet flat on the floor, your hands in your lap like you’re a guest in someone else’s house. This all seems a bit more polite than you were expecting. It’s missing the urgency of blaring sirens and shouting voices you’d forced yourself to mentally prepare when you’d made the call for help. You feel horribly stiff, but you nod at Remus anyway, because you’re not sure comfortable is something you can find right now. 

A small furrow appears between his brows. “Are you sure? You can sit however feels best for you, love, we’ll move around to accommodate you.” 

You shift around awkwardly, bringing your feet onto the couch with your knees near your chest. Remus gives you a rewarding smile. 

“Good, good. Okay, we’re just going to try to slow your breathing down a bit, yeah?” He takes your hand in his kindly, touching your palm to his chest. “It might be hard at first, but try to copy me, please.” 

He inhales deeply, and you manage maybe half of what he does before the air comes whooshing back out of you. A sob works its way up in your chest. You don’t know how there’s still room for anything else in there. 

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” Remus says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand. “We just have to keep going, it’ll get easier.” 

You want desperately for him to be right, and he is. You’re not sure how much time passes with Remus holding your hand to his chest, breathing for the both of you, but eventually you’re able to mimic him. He starts counting, four in, hold for four, and then four out, encouraging you every step of the way. 

You feel a pressure on the inside of your wrist. You look down, but Remus catches your chin in his hand. “You’re all right, love, James is just getting your vitals. You’re doing so well, keep going.” 

You do your best to keep focussed on him, ignoring the occasional prodding or the feel of cool metal against your back. The pain in your chest eases to a dull ache. Soon, you’re no longer straining to hear over the blood rushing past your ears. 

“Alright.” Your concentration breaks at the sound of a voice to your left, and you look over to see Sirius coming through the door. You hadn’t realized he’d left. “We’re all set in the back, how are we doing in here?” 

“Pretty good,” Remus says, giving your hand a kind squeeze before letting it drop from his chest. His voice takes on a wry quality as he turns to Sirius. “Could’ve been better if you hadn’t distracted her, but now I suppose we’ll never know.” 

“Sorry.” Your voice sounds hoarse and torn up. 

Remus looks at you with something close to alarm, but Sirius speaks before he can. “Oh, it’s nothing to do with you, dollface, he just likes giving me shit.” He steps forward, peering at you. “You look tons better. No gurney, then?” 

“Don’t think so,” James says, and you look down to find him crouched at your side, draping a stethoscope back over his neck. “Heart rate’s coming down with breathing, and it doesn’t seem like anything else is amiss. Should be an easy ride.” He looks at you, warm brown eyes melting you like wax. “Think you can walk out to the ambulance, sweetheart?” 

“I—sure, yeah.” You stand on shaky legs, and both Remus and James stand with you, hands hovering in case you need them. You feel so pathetically frail you almost want to laugh. “Um, why are we going to the ambulance?” 

“We’re just going to bring you to the hospital to make sure there’s nothing else wrong,” Remus says. “It’s nothing to worry about, just precautionary stuff.” 

“But I’m—I’m okay, right?” 

“We think so,” James reassures you, taking your elbow to help you off the curb by the ambulance. “Do you not feel okay?” 

“I feel better,” you say uncertainly. “It’s just…” You bring your hands up closer to your face. They’re trembling gently, just like the rest of you. “I can’t stop.”

“That’s totally normal,” Remus promises. James abandons your side to hop into the ambulance, reaching down to help you up, and Remus’ hands ghost over your waist as you clamber inside. He climbs up after you. “You might also have some muscle soreness, nausea, fatigue. It’s probably all just your body coming down from the attack, but you should still tell us, okay?” 

“Okay,” you echo, nodding. “Yeah, I’m really tired.” 

“That’s fine, sweetheart.” James rubs your shoulder warmly, encouraging you to sit on the gurney in the center of the ambulance. “You can take a little nap on the way if you gotta. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

[cherubfae]

|| love rival || Akatsuki x reader

They're now realizing what a mistake it was to introduce you to the group, now they have competition with their own teammate.

tags: former ninja!reader, gn! civilian reader, established relationships, threats, violence, protective!akatsuki, slightly suggestive in Sasori's || MDNI

Pain

He knows that Konan is harmless and she's not the sort of disrespectful person to go sniffing about where she doesn't belong, especially where he and his partner are concerned. Pain, however, cannot tolerate the lingering touches Konan gives you as she passes by. Her hand brushing yours, guiding you with an arm around your shoulders, and blushing at you. He feels a warning is warranted.

"You are my dear friend, Konan, I have known you many years, but this simply won't do. You are better than how you are acting. Be respectful and leave them alone, and I won't need to inflict pain upon you."

Konan

Oh, well isn't this troublesome. Konan isn't the type to make idle threats, but Pain is her commander and leader. That would not be a wise decision on her part, but she does trust her long-time friend to be somewhat respectful and not place you in any situation where you would be uncomfortable. She's not above putting her foot down if she really must.

"Sir, with all due respect, my partner isn't interested and we would both appreciate you to mind your manners."

Obito

You are his everything. He would destroy the entire world for you. Level mountains, tame seas, there isn't anything he wouldn't do as long as it's within his power. He's pretty surprised that Zetsu even took a liking to you, as he's not one that's expressed interest in most anything other than his eating habits.

"Surely Zetsu is mistaken. My partner isn't a corpse for you to munch on you, nor are they yours for the taking. Keep your distance and I won't have to bloody you up too much."

Zetsu

As with anything, both sides of him are at a near constant quarrel with each other. His light side trying to reassure his darker side that Tobi is harmless and doesn't mean anything malicious by taking interest in you.

"Tobi is a good boy, he means no harm." "His harm is his unwarranted interest in our beloved partner. Fool! You have no sense, do you?"

Hidan

Honestly he could laugh so hard he may undo the stitches in his neck. That old fucker wants his partner?? Is he actually serious?

"Haha! That's fucking rich! You've gotta be at least one-hundred by now, huh? Fuck off, geezer! They're not yours!"

Kakuzu

Clearly decapitating Hidan over and over doesn't make him talk any less. Neither does stabbing him-- but it sure does take the edge off. Kakuzu would rather not deal with the younger man's insufferable stubbornness. You are his lover, his alone, and Hidan had no chance in whatever the fuck kind of afterlife his mighty lord Jashin provides. None. Fuck off, Hidan.

"As if they'd want someone as lowly as you. You don't even pay for your own shit. Remember your place or I won't hesitate to remove you from this world permanently. One swipe and your head will be freed from your miserable shoulders. I'm sure all sorts of insects would love to burrow inside of that hollow space."

Itachi

For a moment he's reminded of Sasuke's little schoolboy crush on you, except Kisame isn't Sasuke. He is a grown adult capable of getting in the way of Itachi's livelihood. Threatening the sanctity of his relationship. He's unlikely to do much other than step in if he crosses any boundaries or makes you uncomfortable. So until something is said, it's just this weird, heavy atmosphere. Kisame starts to speak but Itachi cuts him off immediately.

"Keep their name out of your mouth, Kisame. I won't warn you again."

Kisame

Oftentimes he wonders how lonely Itachi is. He annihilated his entire clan save for his younger brother in a single night. He took away everything he loved and for what? He can appreciate Itachi's past but Kisame doesn't take too kindly to the eldest Uchiha brother being a bit too welcoming and protective of his partner.

"Itachi, a word of advice. Don't shit where you eat. And keep your nose out of other's relationships. You're a good, respectable man and I appreciate your concern in my partner's well-being. Let me handle it from here."

Sasori

There's still the age-old artistic view difference between the two: eternal art vs shortlived art. One could argue both have their merits, but even after all these years it was a sore subject between the blonde and redhead duo. And now you were thrown into the mix.

"If you truly think you're so superior to me, Deidara, then perhaps you'd be more open to what a waste your art truly is. My partner prefers eternal, long-lasting, but there's nothing long nor lasting about, is there?"

Deidara

This was great. Jusssst great. Sasori had been hanging around his area of the hideout more and for what, Deidara wasn't sure. Until he recalled that you had been given special permission to visit from Pain himself. You'd forsaken your village long ago and clearly had no interest in reporting them, so it was allowed. Sasori had begun skulking about ever since and the blonde could guess why he might be drawn to you.

"If you even think about turning my partner into a fuckin' puppet, I won't hesitate to kill you, Sasori. No matter which way I go about it, you'll end up in splinters. So, I repeat. Stay the fuck away from them, hmm."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

[twstedreamweaver]

Something Wicked - Yandere Jade Leech x G/N Reader

NRC is a dangerous place and you got on the bad side of some Savanaclaw students.

You end up making a huge mistake, but don't worry, Jade Leech is there to clean it up for you.

TW: A student commits suicide, violence, drugging, reader has a panic attack, slight suggestive content, murder -> minor character deaths, yandere themes, stalking, reader gets into a fist fight, kidnapping

The students of Twisted Wonderland's prestigious Night Raven College are known for many things, but kindness is most certainty not among them.

You knew the first day you stepped foot on campus that this world reveres the strong and preys upon the weak, and in the months since, you have become well acquainted with the unspoken laws of the school. The watchful eye of the faculty and the Housewardens (well, some of them) only extends so far. Out of their reach, in the shadowy hallways and courtyards, NRC devolves into a merciless, brutal game of survival of the fittest.

You're lucky that your friends are looking out for you.

"Ugh, those Savanaclaw students only seem to be gettin' bolder by the day." Ace frowned.

The expression on his face was hard to read, but he seemed... frightened. Genuinely frightened. The air suddenly felt frigid.

In the blink of an eye, Ace returned to his usual, cocky demeanor and his signature shit-eating grin replaced his previously solemn features.

"You're lucky I was here, or your ass would have been toast-".

"You mean we-" Deuce interrupted, annoyed.

"Whatev, dude, it was pretty much all me that made them run for the hills anywayyyy."

Deuce opted to ignored Ace's insult, his eyes clouded with genuine worry, "Y/n, are you alright?"

You glanced behind you, as three figures clad in Savanaclaw uniform rounded a corner. You frowned.

Right before they disappeared, one turned his cloaked head to look at you, features dark, hidden beneath his hood and he curled his lips into a sinister grin.

A chill crawled up your spine. They were too far away to see clearly; you must have imagined it.

You invoked the ire of Savanaclaw once before, during the Spelldrive tournament, but being in Leona's good graces convinced them to overlook you for easier targets.

But not even Leona could deter them this time.

"They've been at it for what? Three days now?" Ace's voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You let out a heavy sigh before giving them a smile, albeit a pained one. You chose to ignore Ace's rhetorical question for the time being.

"Thanks guys. I'm honestly really grateful to always have you guys ready to back me up. I don't know what I'd do without you." You can't remember the last time you admitted something so serious, so sincere and heartfelt.

The constant state of paranoia and hypervigilance you'd been living in were really getting to you.

Both Deuce and Ace seemed to reel back at your words, surprised. You swear you see the hint of pink grace their cheeks, as they turn away, muttering jumbled combination of "Erk, yeah, uh, no problem!" and "Well, yeah you should be thanking us."

No way that's all it takes to make them blush. You smile inwardly.

"Let's get out of here. It's getting dark."

As the trio, talking amongst themselves, returns to the safety of the main corridor, a lone figure quietly follows.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Even Grim's snoring could not distract you from the cacophony of your thoughts that night.

Ace and Deuce were insistent on spending the night at Ramshackle. Ace in particular tried to worm his way into your bed, on the pretense of 'protection'. Deuce vehemently objected of course.

Your bed was already small after all, and Deuce definitely did not seem to enjoy the idea of you lying that close to him while he dejectedly watched from the hard floor. And Grim would have been pissed to not have enough room at the bottom of the bed to curl up.

And Grim did already loudly insist that he - Grim the Great! mind you - is perfectly capable of protecting his human! And he certainly didn't need help from those two.

You turned down Ace's suggestion anyway, teasing him alongside Deuce, leading to a grumbling Ace defeatedly disappearing down the staircase.

In all honesty, you wouldn't mind - given the current situation - but the thought of your bodies touching admittedly made your cheeks grow uncomfortably hot.

The duo opted to sleep on the couches in the foyer instead, as Deuce suggested. It was the best location anyway, as they'd be closer to the main entry if anyone tried to break in.

After giving them blankets and biding Ace and Deuce goodnight, you settled in with Grim, who quickly fell asleep, leaving you to lie awake, alone with your thoughts.

You sighed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep was futile.

Your troubles began well before the incident.

Henry, a Savanaclaw student you had shown a sliver of kindness to in Alchemy class, started following you around the school, trying to talk to you, to befriend you, to be near you. He spiraled into a twisted form of infatuation. He'd give you weirdly expensive gifts (which you'd decline), researched your interests extensively, and hunted down all your socials online.

You weren't interested in him, not romantically or even platonically, he was creepy, to say the least, and you hardly wanted him as a friend. You were civil, polite at first, but you became increasingly harsh as the weeks dragged on.

While NRC was cruel, you were lucky to have made allies with the people you did.

Your friends noticed him within a few days. You had amassed many friends in high places while at the school and they ensured that he never got close to you, except, of course, in Alchemy class, the one class you shared with him. Crewel, ever watchful, quickly noticed and separated you, ensuring that you weren't together on projects.

Occasionally, you'd feel a tinge of guilt. While he certainly was annoying, you couldn't help but feel that he didn't deserve what happened.

Seemingly over the span of a week, Henry managed to amass a large group of very powerful people who all greatly despised him.

Idia deactivated his socials and Leona and Ruggie practically banned him from leaving the dorm after classes. Azul tricked him into a terrible deal and Riddle would slap a collar on him for the most minor of infractions.

You guessed he'd give up. He didn't. He actually got more aggressive, more spiteful towards you for not reciprocating his feelings. More hateful and angry at the injustices he was subjected to by the Housewardens. He got worse and worse by the day, until one day, he inevitably snapped.

Love potions are not only highly taboo, but also illegal in Twisted Wonderland. Moreso, it's incredibly easy to determine the culprit, as each potion is unique to its user.

Jack, with his sharp sense of smell, caught a whiff of something in your drink at the cafeteria. You had no idea how Henry managed to slip something into a sealed drink that you purchased from the cafeteria directly, but he did.

You and Jack went to Vil, arguably the alchemy genius of the school, who determined that it was a love potion. And given the situation with Henry and a strand of his hair, it was easy to determine that it was none other than Henry's love potion.

Henry was expelled from Night Raven College shortly after Vil showed Crowley the evidence. The police were alerted, and it seemed that he was set to spend a year in prison.

But Henry never went to jail. He never even got arrested.

A few hours after the police arrived and they couldn't seem to find him, a frantic student stumbled into Crowley's office.

Henry was found hanging from a tree on the edge of school grounds. A noose tightened around his blue neck, eyes bulging. It was a terrible sight and one that Crowley did not want to get out. And Crowley made sure the truth never saw the light of day.

To the general public and his family, Henry likely ran away to escape prosecution. But you, and a select few, knew the truth.

The whole situation reeked of suspicion to you. You couldn't help but wonder if Henry was framed, if he really did kill himself, or if someone else was responsible.

But for everyone concerned, it appeared Henry disappeared from your life as quickly as he had entered it, but the problem was far from over.

Henry had dedicated friends, and they resented you. Despised you.

They started appearing late at night, tailing you as you walked home. You told Deuce and Ace and you all concluded that while their identities were always obscured, it had to be the late Henry's vengeful friend group. They were upperclassmen, Savanaclaw students, and while Ace and Deuce seemed ready to take the fight to them, you urged them not to. The last thing you wanted was for them, your best friends, to get hurt on your behalf.

After all, they were likely just trying to scare you. But the sinister aura you felt told you otherwise. You wish they knew how guilty you felt, how you cried when he died. It wasn't your fault, you knew that, but you couldn't help but feel responsible for Henry's suicide.

You hadn't told anyone besides Ace and Deuce. Fear and guilt stopped you. Fear that history would repeat itself. That another student would stumble upon three more bodies hanging from a tree.

Why is this always happening to me?

You tossed and turned for an hour, until finally you fell into an unsteady sleep, haunted by nightmarish visions.

Unbeknownst to you, they were waiting for you to do just that.

A person, clad in black, crawled out from under your bed.

"Got you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You awoke to cold, unrelenting, freezing cold. You felt as if you were in a fog, as if your limbs were tied to weights you couldn't hope to lift. You heard distorted voices and the whispers of wind.

The Savanaclaw students. Henry's friends. They got you.

Adrenaline surged through your body, ripping you out of your deep, mind-numbing slumber.

Your eyes flew open, but you couldn't see anything except the night sky as your eyes adjusted to the low light. You were on your back, you felt grass against your exposed skin and the hard ground beneath your head.

The voices sharpened into focus.

"-wait for this lying bitch to get what they deserve."

You have to get up. You're starting to see figures moving around you. Three, two milling around, one trying to lift something with magic. They had a lantern set on the ground, but it was faint, barely enough to emit enough light to see what the one was trying to lift.

"Well, then fucking help me lift this. Jeez, why am I doing all the damn work-"

It almost looked like, a rock?

"Sorry, got distracted. Rich, you recordin'?"

You have to get up, now.

You feel like there's electricity surging through your body, snapping you out of the sleep-induced haze.

You were drugged. It must have worn off before they planned.

"I can't wait to see their head fucking splatter."

You leaped up. The world was spinning, you were moving so fast, your brain couldn't keep up. You stumbled then lunged, aiming for the lone figure that wasn't lifting up the rock.

Your vision narrowed.

One of them yelled, out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the students whip around towards you, canceling the spell, as the rock fell right onto the other's foot.

Curses, yells, it didn't matter. The man's screams were dilluted by your concentration on the man in front of you.

His face was distorted, his mouth agape. He was turning towards you.

Perfect.

You clenched your right hand into a fist and planted your feet into the dirt, bracing yourself, as you reeled back and aimed for his exposed jaw.

You exhaled sharply right before your fist collided with his jaw with a crack. His head whipped to the left, spit flying out of his mouth, a choked, strangled noise coming from deep in his throat.

Your left elbow was ready, your right arm coming back to guard, twisting your torso as you threw your elbow into the left side of his head, swinging through.

You couldn't feel anything, everything was moving too fast, but you were sure you might have broken your hand.

After the collision, you jumped back, head whipping around to face your approaching opponent.

A punch was heading right for you, aimed at your head.

You side stepped, centering yourself, grabbed his arm with your left hand and then reeled back for another right punch. As he stumbled forward, your right fist met the side of his face. He lurched to the side, and you stepped behind him to kick at his lower back, you planted your foot on his tailbone and pushed, sending him sprawling forward.

The other man was trying desperately to lift the rock off his foot, but he couldn't pick it up with magic alone and he certainly couldn't lift it with his own strength.

The man fell face first into the dirt. He was weak, helpless, entirely at your mercy.

Your vision was red, your breathing was heavy, your lungs and throat burned as you raised your foot and slammed it down.

They deserve this.

You were enraged, terrified, the world was spiraling but. You were finally in control.

You were on top now; you were the one in power.

Your foot slams down over and over again.

They were going to kill you.

You didn't need magic, not this time.

In this shitty world, you were always the magicless nobody, lost, homeless, at the whims of a headmage who couldn't care less.

He was begging for you to stop, trying to lift himself, but each stomp left even weaker.

And you blame me? You go after me?

His face is caved in, you hear a crack as your foot meets his skull again and again.

Why am I always the problem? Why do I always have to deal with this?

The blood looks black under the moonlit night.

I never asked for any of this.

Tears started streaming down your cheeks, the man with the rock on his foot was yelling, begging you to stop as he watched, completely helpless, as his friend was beaten.

You were going to do this to me! Why the fuck should I stop?

He wasn't breathing anymore, was he?

Reality seemed to shift into focus.

What have I done?

"I never wanted Henry to die!" You screamed, as you stepped back, staring at the lifeless body in front of you, shaking.

You collapsed to the ground, sobs wracking your throat, "I never wanted any of this!"

"What was I supposed to do?"

The other student still lay unconscious on the ground a few feet away.

You couldn't breathe.

He was dead, you were certain.

Everything was spinning again, you were nauseous, your hand stung, your elbow stung, your head was muddled by the lasting effects of a drug.

You were sobbing and you couldn't figure out how to breathe. The air wouldn't enter your lungs.

"Oh my god." you wheezed through choked sobs and tears.

A hand landed, gently, on your shoulder.

"It's going to be alright, Y/n."

You whipped around to see Jade Leech towering over you. His expression unreadable in the dark.

"Jade?" You choked out.

The boy with the rock on his foot stared, mouth hanging open. He was quiet.

The whole world was quiet for a moment.

"In the flesh." You saw the trace of a smile in the dark.

"I'll take care of this, Y/n. Nothing is going to happen to you." You suddenly noticed the sharp edge in his calm tone, the piercing sinister nature of his words.

You couldn't move as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to you. You took it with shaky hands.

He stood up and walked quickly toward the remaining Savanaclaw student.

Like a predator that knew its prey was cornered.

"Please, no, I'm sorry, Jade-" The boy was trembling, his pleas falling on deaf ears. "I'll do any-", the student's sentence was cut short. A gurgling, gasping sound came from the student. Jade's gloved hands were squeezing the boy's neck. The student flailed, arms clawing at Jade, writhing, and Jade only dug his fingers in more.

You watched in horror, at his inhuman strength, at the silent, brutal way in which he drained the life from the student's eyes.

All you could hear was the gasps of the boy in the dead of night, as you stared, helpless to move.

His body collapsed, head lolling to the side, with a final twitch.

Jade refused to let go as the seconds seemed to crawl by, barely half a minute but it felt like an eternity.

Jade dropped the boy, still stuck under the rock, as his body rag dolled and flopped onto the ground.

"No matter how many obstacles I must dispose of, I will always protect you, Y/n," Jade's voice broke the uncomfortable, painful silence.

Your stomach churned and your vision closed in, your arms barely able to hold yourself up. You collapsed onto your side, the drug and the stress and the fear all adding up.

Jade turned his head to look at you, a sinister grin flashing sharp teeth contorting his face.

"I assure you that I will always keep you safe." As you fell into unconsciousness, you heard Jade moving towards you in the dark.

You felt a gloved hand brush hair from your face.

"Allow me to take care of your problems, just like last time."

[bekaroth-reads]

Baldur’s Gate’s 3 Characters x Reader/Tav Misunderstanding

[This is basically the situation of, “As my partner-“ “Wait, we’re partners?!” Might add more characters later. Proof read but quickly. Sorry if there are mistakes]

Astarion- The two of you were planning out a way to get into a tomb that had some sort of artifact that Astarion insisted was important. “Important,” was, in fact, the only thing that he was using to describe it. This was something that was causing the most problems as you didn’t want to go through the danger of it all for something that might have been nothing more than entertainment for him. When you tried to ask him to give you more details, he snidely scolded, “Listen, as your partner-“

“I’m your partner?!” You interrupt before he could say more.

Immediately, he covered his mouth and his cheeks with his hand, embarrassment flooding in after what he had just said as he turned away. While he could usually recover from almost anything, this struck the line of being too intimate for him to handle. In fact, you were both so flustered and embarrassed from the whole thing that you had to push the planning of everything for the excursion at least a week out. It’s hard to plan adventures when you can’t even look the other person in the eye.

Gale- He thought that you were overworking yourself; and, if Gale Dekarios of all people thought someone was overworking, then it was pretty bad. Then again, you were important to him, so he was also inclined to mother-hen over everything you did. When he thought the time was right, he pulled you aside to gently scold, “I know this is very important. But, as your partner, I must insist-“

“We’re partners?!” You exclaim.

He felt awful as he sees this as him trying to force you into a relationship that you might not have wanted. And, given his history with Mystra, it makes him feel like he has taken on her role, and it makes him nauseous. You will need to take some time to get him to understand it was simply a misunderstanding and that you do want to have a relationship with him.

Raphael- He insisted on taking you to find, “better,” clothing. When you got over the initial insult of the indication that your current choice in clothes was bad, you questioned why he was so adamant on doing so.

“Because, I am a public figure. I cannot have my partner-“ He started to explain before you interrupted,

“I’m your partner?!”

This seemed to entertained him to no end. “Why of course, Little Mouse. Hurry along now.” He hummed as he gave you a tap on the nose before ushering your stunned self out the door.

Haarlep- The two of you finally had an evening to yourselves. They were sitting on the end of your bed in a soft nightshirt, reading a book. It wasn’t even that they were expressly interested in the book, but between all of the scheming with Raphael and succubus work, they couldn’t remember the last time that they had the chance to do something so simple as reading. They gave a contented sigh as they lied back, their horns bumping against your legs where you were sitting farther up on the bed. Without much thought, they sighed, “I am so glad that you are mine.”

“Wait! Are we… partners? Actual partners?” You question in surprise.

They put down their book and turned themselves to lie on their stomach so that they could look at you with gleaming eyes, your reaction seemingly tickling them.

“Well, of course! I’m never this relaxed with anyone but you.” They sat up a bit and motioned to what they had on. “I mean- just look at me! I even put clothes on for you! That’s not something that happens everyday, my sweet.”

Gortash- To say things were tense would be an understatement. Enver Gortash and you had tried to kill each other about a month ago, and you were both nearly successful. It had taken you these past three weeks to heal, and the whole time the both of you were sure the other was going to try to sweep in at any moment and finish the job. Or, you were, and it didn’t take too much imagination to see his situation as the same. You were both in a similar state when your respective parties had broken up your fight.

Now you found out that you would have to work with him publicly for a time. It wasn’t something that you were looking forward to, but it was necessary to get answers for certain things and create opportunities for your team. You were in the hall that this party was being held at; it was nothing fancy, no dancing, no meal- just a simple gathering for some of the upper class to speak with each other and perhaps have a few drinks. You were beyond surprised when Gortash connected eyes with you and instead of an angry or begrudging response, he greeted you with one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen on the man.

“There they are now! The person of the hour!” He walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. There were some compliments and coos of how darling you both looked together, and how you must have been a great match. Soon after the group walked away to give you two a few moments of privacy.

“You said that we were a couple?” You whisper-yelled at him.

“Of course. Because we are.” He whispered back as he leaned closer to purr into your ear, “We did almost kill each other after all.” Gortash gave you a peck on the cheek before moving you both to mingle with the other little groups of people around the room.

[aashi-heartfilia]

Why do we need a Ochako and Hawks conversation before the manga ends

I've been waiting for their conversation for centuries! Like these two definitely need to talk.

Ochako managed to do something that Hawks couldn't do. Toga and Twice both were really nice people and it's just their quirks led them to despair and they both realised this.

Hawks didn't wanna kill Jin Bubaigawara but he did because in his way, he was trying to be a hero, so he brutally killed his own friend but then what kind of hero does that? In MHA, there's a very thin line between heroes and villains and that has been pointed out several times.

Even with Ochako and Toga. Remember when Toga told Ochako how she used Ochako's quirk to kill a bunch of people during their 2nd battle? Ochako was horrified. The same quirk that Ochako uses to make everyone's problems weightless quite literally was used to kill people.

Ochako and Toga are very similar. They're both very cute and shy, they love to tie their hair up in buns, and even love the same boy which is why when Ochako wasn't able to empathize with Toga, she was hurt because she thought at least chako would understand...

Horikoshi loves to draw parallels between certain characters and their storylines and one such beautiful parallel is this...when later on Ochako notices Toga's tears in the final battle.

"She loved seeing people happy. So of course she zeroed in on her tears"

Beautiful narration, amazing storytelling

It is a way for us as readers to tell that Ochako has now grown, as she is now seeing Toga as a person, not as a villain, just as a person who was sad and crying.

Like it's outright stated for us in the manga, so I don't understand people who think Ochako never got any character development because this is exactly where she differs from Hawks ideology.

Hawks was able to sacrifice Twice for the greater good, even if he himself regretted it later. The Public Safety Hero commission must have made him do other terrible things as well and he might have killed some more villains in secret just like Nagant.

We can cut him some slack though cause he was just following the orders, but then so did Ochako. Tsu even points it out, that killing Toga would have been much easier just like Hawks suggested, but her friend Ochako took a harder route and is trying to confront her.

Plus, Hawks had a chance to correct his mistake and yet when Twice (actually Toga) appeared in the battlefield again, his first instinct was to kill him.

MHA is not a story about killing people for greater good. We've seen in the latest chapter how both Dabi and Endeavour survived the war and while Dabi would live for only some time, he would have some moments of peace with his father. They can at least try to heal what was broken.

Killing twice was definitely not a good idea cause his will continued within Toga. She took her revenge and killed so many heroes on the same battlefield. As long as their despair and sadness is not confronted, the problem is not yet solved. We've seen it with Toga and Shigaraki.

Which is why I said that Ochako passed where Hawks failed.

Both Toga and Twice died, but at least Toga died smiling, happily to save someone she loved. Twice died to save his comrades while Toga sacrificed herself to save Ochako, an act of true love by the so-called villains.

And this needs to be addressed.

Plus there has been too much of a teaser about it...

Hawks witnessed the impact of Ochako's speech in ch 325. And she was the last thing that came to his mind before passing out...

Plus even their covers are a big parallel!

So with all that being said, if Ochako and Hawks didn't have a conversation before this manga ends, it would really be such a missed opportunity and quite a shame.

~Sunshine

[kiesbrainjuice]

— FRIENDZONE ! atsumu miya

syn : how are u gonna go out of the friendzone ?

wc : 2.7k

tw : none ! friends to lovers

You and Atsumu have been inseparable since middle school, your bond so strong that outsiders often mistake you for a couple. However, you've always maintained that you're just close friends, pushing down the flutter in your heart whenever he's near. Atsumu, seemingly oblivious to your hidden feelings, treats you with the same easy familiarity he always has.

On this particular day, you're enjoying your lunch in the school courtyard, savoring the warmth of the spring sun on your skin. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, their delicate petals drifting on the breeze. You're lost in thought, remembering all the years you've spent by Atsumu's side, when he suddenly drops onto the bench beside you with a heavy sigh.

You turn to look at him, concern etching your features. Atsumu's usually perfectly styled blonde hair is disheveled, as if he's been running his hands through it in frustration. His brow is furrowed, and there's a tightness around his eyes that you've come to recognize as a sign of his inner turmoil.

"Tsk, I'm confused why it's so hard to find a suitable lover for me???" he groans, ruffling his hair even further.

Your heart clenches at his words, a mix of sympathy and secret longing washing over you. You've loved Atsumu for years, your feelings deepening with each shared laugh, each volleyb all practice, each late-night study session. But you've never found the courage to confess, fear of ruining your friendship holding you back.

"What happened this time?" you ask softly, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Atsumu leans back, his shoulder brushing against yours. The casual contact sends a shiver down your spine, one you hope he doesn't notice.

"I asked Anako-san out," he admits, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "She turned me down flat. Said she's not interested in dating anyone right now."

You nod sympathetically, even as a small, selfish part of you rejoices. "I'm sorry, Tsumu. That must have been tough."

He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I guess I should be used to it by now, huh? But sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Am I not good enough?"

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. You want nothing more than to take his face in your hands and tell him how amazing he is, how any girl would be lucky to have him. How you've been in love with him for years.

Instead, you bump his shoulder gently with yours. "Don't be ridiculous. You're an amazing person, Atsumu. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

He looks at you then, his warm brown eyes softening. "Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you, you know? You always know how to make me feel better."

You smile, ignoring the bittersweet ache in your chest. "That's what best friends are for, right?"

Atsumu nods, then suddenly grins. "Hey, maybe I should just date you instead! We already act like a couple half the time anyway."

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you consider telling him the truth. But then he laughs, the sound light and carefree, and you know he's just joking. You force a laugh of your own, pushing down the words you long to say.

"As if you could handle me, Miya," you tease, falling back into your familiar banter.

As you sit there with Atsumu, an idea suddenly strikes you. It's painful, but you convince yourself it's for the best. "Hey, Tsumu," you say, trying to keep your voice light, "I think I might know someone who'd be perfect for you. Want me to set you up?"

Atsumu looks at you, surprise evident in his features. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

You nod, ignoring the twinge in your chest. "Of course. That's what friends are for, right?"

Without giving yourself time to reconsider, you pull out your phone and call your friend, Yui. She's pretty, kind, and has mentioned finding Atsumu attractive before. You arrange for her to meet you both at the courtyard.

A few minutes later, Yui arrives. Her long dark hair is swaying in the breeze, and she's wearing a cute sundress. As soon as she spots Atsumu, her eyes light up.

"Hi, Yui!" you call out, waving her over. But to your surprise, she barely glances at you. Her gaze is fixed solely on Atsumu, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hello, Atsumu-kun," she says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Atsumu straightens up, his earlier dejection forgotten. "Hi, Yui-chan. It's nice to see you."

You watch as they start talking, feeling increasingly out of place. The conversation flows easily between them, and you can see the interest sparking in Atsumu's eyes. It's exactly what you wanted, you tell yourself, even as your heart feels like it's breaking.

After a few minutes of awkward silence on your part, you decide you can't take it anymore. "Well," you say, forcing a bright smile onto your face, "I just remembered I have some studying to do. Why don't you two stay and chat?"

Yui nods absently, still focused on Atsumu. But Atsumu turns to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly. You know he's always been able to read you better than anyone else, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he studies your face.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. "You don't have to go."

You wave him off, your fake smile still firmly in place. "No, no, it's fine. You two have fun!"

As you turn to leave, you feel Atsumu's eyes on you. You know he can tell something's off – he's always been able to see through your fake smiles. But you can't bring yourself to look back. You're afraid that if you do, he'll see the truth in your eyes, the pain you're trying so hard to hide.

You walk away, each step feeling heavier than the last. Part of you hopes that Atsumu will call out, will stop you from leaving. But he doesn't, and you're not sure if that makes it better or worse.

As you round the corner, out of sight from the courtyard, you finally let your smile drop. You lean against the wall, taking a deep, shaky breath. You tell yourself that this is what's best for Atsumu, that you're being a good friend by helping him find someone. But it doesn't stop the ache in your chest or the tears that threaten to fall.

You stay there for a moment, gathering yourself. Then, with one last deep breath, you straighten up and walk away, leaving your heart behind in that sun-dappled courtyard with the boy you love and the girl who might make him happy.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

—

The next morning, you drag yourself to school, your heart heavy with the events of yesterday. The spring air feels colder somehow, the cherry blossoms less vibrant. You're lost in thought, replaying yesterday's scene in your mind, when a familiar voice calls out to you.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You turn to see Yui running towards you, her long hair streaming behind her. Your stomach twists uncomfortably, but you force a smile onto your face.

"Good morning, Yui," you manage to say as she reaches you, slightly out of breath.

"Morning!" she chirps, her eyes bright with excitement. "I'm so glad I caught you. Do you know where Atsumu is?"

Your heart sinks even further. Of course, she's looking for Atsumu. "I... I'm not sure," you stammer. "We don't always walk to school together."

Yui's face falls slightly, but her enthusiasm doesn't wane. "Oh, that's okay. I just wanted to thank him for yesterday. We had such a great time talking after you left!"

You nod mechanically, trying to keep your expression neutral. "That's... that's great, Yui. I'm glad you two hit it off."

"We really did!" she gushes, falling into step beside you as you continue walking. "He's so funny and charming. And those eyes! I could get lost in them forever."

Each word feels like a dagger to your heart, but you keep nodding, keep smiling. This is what you wanted, isn't it? For Atsumu to find someone who appreciates him?

"Oh!" Yui exclaims suddenly. "There he is! Atsumu-kun!"

Your head snaps up, and sure enough, there's Atsumu walking through the school gates. He turns at the sound of Yui's voice, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on you. For a moment, something flickers in his gaze - concern? confusion? - but before you can decipher it, Yui is already bounding towards him.

You watch as she reaches him, talking animatedly. Atsumu smiles at her, but his eyes keep darting back to you. You want to look away, but you can't seem to tear your gaze from him.

Suddenly, Atsumu says something to Yui and starts walking towards you. Your heart rate speeds up, and you consider turning and fleeing. But before you can decide, he's there, standing in front of you.

"Hey," he says softly. "You okay? You left pretty quickly yesterday."

You open your mouth to reassure him, to lie and say everything's fine. But as you look into his warm brown eyes, the words stick in your throat. For a moment, you're both silent, the bustling noise of the schoolyard fading away.

Then the bell rings, shattering the moment. You blink, coming back to reality.

"We should get to class," you mumble, ducking your head to avoid his gaze.

Atsumu reaches out, his hand hovering near your arm as if he wants to stop you. But he lets it fall back to his side. "Yeah," he says, his voice tinged with something you can't quite identify. "Yeah, we should."

As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on your back. You want to turn around, to run back and tell him everything. But you keep walking, one foot in front of the other, towards your classroom and away from the boy you love.

The day stretches ahead of you, full of classes and conversations and moments where you'll have to pretend everything is normal.

—

As lunchtime arrives, Atsumu finds himself rushing towards your classroom, a strange urgency driving his steps. He's been feeling off-kilter since yesterday, a nagging sensation he can't quite place. But as he rounds the corner, he stops dead in his tracks.

There you are, but you're not alone. You're laughing with a guy he doesn't recognize, your head thrown back in genuine mirth. Something hot and unfamiliar surges through Atsumu's chest. Before he can process what he's doing, he's striding towards you two.

"Back off," he growls at the guy, his eyes flashing dangerously.

You whirl around, shock evident on your face. "Atsumu? What are you-"

But you don't finish your sentence. Instead, you grab Atsumu's wrist and drag him away, muttering a quick apology to your bewildered classmate. You pull Atsumu into the nearest empty space - the janitor's closet - and shut the door behind you.

The small space is dim and cramped, filled with the scent of cleaning supplies. You're standing so close to Atsumu that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, but you push that thought aside as anger bubbles up inside you.

The janitor's closet door slams shut behind you, the small space amplifying the tension crackling between you and Atsumu.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you seethe, your voice low but filled with fury.

Atsumu's eyes flash dangerously. "Me? What about you? Who was that guy you were all cozy with?"

"That's none of your business!" you snap back. "You don't get to act all jealous when you're out there chasing every girl in school!"

"I'm not chasing every girl!" Atsumu retorts, his voice rising. "And even if I was, why do you care?"

"Because it's pathetic!" you shoot back, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "You're so desperate for a girlfriend that you can't even see what's right in front of you!"

Atsumu's face contorts with anger. "What's that supposed to mean? You're the one who set me up with Yui yesterday!"

"Because that's what you wanted, isn't it?" you yell, your carefully constructed walls crumbling. "To find a 'suitable lover'? Well, congratulations! Looks like you've found one!"

"You don't know what I want!" Atsumu shouts, taking a step closer to you.

"Oh, don't I?" you laugh bitterly. "I've been watching you flirt and get rejected for years, Atsumu. I think I have a pretty good idea!"

"You don't know anything!" he growls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "If you did, you wouldn't be laughing it up with some random guy!"

"He's not random, he's my friend!" you defend hotly. "And what does it matter to you anyway? You're too busy with your own love life to care about mine!"

"That's not true and you know it!" Atsumu's voice echoes in the small space. "I've always cared about you!"

"Oh, really?" you scoff, even as your heart races at his words. "Is that why you're always complaining to me about not having a girlfriend? Is that why you let me set you up with Yui without a second thought?"

"I didn't ask you to do that!" Atsumu shouts back. "You're the one who suggested it!"

"Because I thought that's what you wanted!" Your voice cracks with emotion. "I thought… I thought I was being a good friend."

"A good friend?" Atsumu repeats incredulously. "A good friend wouldn't push me towards other girls if they…"

He trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air between you.

"If they what, Atsumu?" you press, your heart pounding so hard you're sure he must be able to hear it.

"If they had feelings for me themselves," he finishes quietly.

The silence that follows is deafening. You stare at each other, both breathing heavily from the argument.

"Is that what this is about?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think I have feelings for you?"

Atsumu runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "I don't know! Do you? Because sometimes I think… but then you do things like set me up with other girls, and I just don't understand!"

"You don't understand?" you repeat, your own frustration bubbling over. "How do you think I feel, watching you chase after every girl but me? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Atsumu's eyes widen. "What are you saying?"

You take a deep breath, realizing there's no going back now. "I'm saying that I love you, you idiot! I've been in love with you for years, but I was too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship!"

Atsumu stares at you in shock for a long moment before a smile slowly spreads across his face. "You love me?"

You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Yeah, I do. But if you don't feel the same way, I understand. We can just forget this whole thing and-"

You're cut off as Atsumu closes the distance between you, cupping your face in his hands. "I love you too," he says softly. "I've been in love with you for so long, I can't even remember when it started."

"But… all those other girls?" you ask, confusion replacing your anger.

Atsumu shakes his head. "I was trying to get over you. I thought you only saw me as a friend. I never dreamed you might feel the same way."

You laugh incredulously, tears pricking at your eyes. "We've both been such idiots, haven't we?"

"The biggest," Atsumu agrees, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that's escaped down your cheek. "But maybe we can start being smart now?"

You nod, your heart feeling like it might burst with happiness. Atsumu leans in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that feels like coming home.

When you finally break apart, you're both grinning like idiots. "So," you say, trying to catch your breath, "what do we do now?"

Atsumu takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Now," he says, his eyes sparkling with joy and mischief, "we go have lunch. And maybe I can properly introduce myself to that guy as your boyfriend?"

You laugh, squeezing his hand. "I'd like that," you say softly.

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[carpentvrs]

The End — Mattheo Riddle

pairing :: mattheo riddle x reader

summary :: all things must come to an end, right?

based on the song the end by tom odell

warnings :: cursing (like one or two times), (mentions of) addiction & substance abuse & a toxic household, angst!! no use of y/n, tom‘s mattheo‘s brother, after hogwarts au, voldy doesn’t exist

a/n :: very angsty but i hope you like it anyway! again, english isn’t my native language so please don’t mind any mistakes. if requested, I’m up for a part two! biggest thank you to alex for helping me write <33 rebolgs are very appreciated

some things begin with the knowledge of them having an end. like watching a movie or reading a book, like going on a walk or on vacation. soon enough you will turn off the tv, close the book, return home, and tell your friends all about your summer days. if the movie is bad, you know it won’t go on forever. one more hour and you can walk out the cinema. if the book is good, you can reread it sometime, if it’s bad, close it. you can always or never again go on walks and if you don’t or do enjoy your summer trip, you know you’ll come back home either way. So many different possibilities, always the same fate. It has to end one day.

a relationship isn’t like that. it can either go on forever, until both lovers fall into the nothingness, trying to find each other even in the afterlife, hand in hand in every universe.

or it’ll end. in a peaceful or in a painful way. it ends with ’ i don’t think we want the same things for our future ‘ or with infidelity. it ends with different beliefs or with different lovers. it ends with one trying and the other giving up, it ends with one failing and the other failing to help.

mattheo riddle feels as though you two are growing apart, your usually interlocked fingers slipping through each others, no one reaching to strengthen the hold. he knows it’s his fault, he puts you through things you shouldn’t have to go through. he tries to get clean, but both of you know that with him, it’s always one wobbly step forward and three steady ones back. he tries nonetheless.

“uhm, hey, can we talk, maybe? go for a walk in the park if you’d like?”

you know what he wants to talk about. you hadn’t seen each other in a while, despite being in a relationship – if you could still call it that. not seeing each other for a month, that’s not usual, right? at least it shouldn’t be. you know it and he knows it, there’s no denying. at least you agreed to meet up now.

he puts on his leather jacket and grabs his keychain, the rattling sound of his keys and the many key rings and charms colliding together reminding him of your promise. if you make it through to next month, i’ll craft you another key ring. try for me, love. please. you did it just as a little reminder that you do care. but he’s never managed a whole month before. maybe the bottle opener attached to the key chain was a bigger reminder that eventually, one beer wouldn’t hurt him. or two.

you made key rings and charms for almost everyone. all your friends have them and your family does too. wether its an initial of their name or of their partner‘s name, a symbol or whatever else they wished for, you made it for them. and everyone loves them. so does mattheo, you thought. or did. otherwise he’d surely make more effort to treat them with care and most of them wouldn’t have scrapes and scratches all over them, and there wouldn’t be a crack in your initial either, which, to no one’s surprise, was another result of one-too-many drunken nights.

he wants to make things right, and he’s certain it’s gonna work. spending time together in the park you went to after your first date sounds nice, doesn’t it?

your first official date was in a small pub, a few months after your joint time in Hogwarts had ended. you still remember walking through the rose garden in the north side of that park after that date. the sky was painted in a velvety black, the sun‘s final farewell long forgotten and the gates were already shut. but you managed to sneak in anyway. he picked a rose for you and you appreciated the gesture more than anything, soon enough you and him both had a little rose charm attached to your keychains. he lost his, you still have yours.

looking at it now, you should’ve realized then that the way he stumbled on the way back home was already a warning sign that he didn’t hold back when alcohol was involved. And if he couldn’t keep it together on a first date, then why would he around friends? Why would he around his family, why would he around yours? And why would he not use it as a way to calm his nerves whenever life gets serious when he so obviously already did that for nothing more than a harmless first date with a person he’s known for almost longer than he’s not?

you know most of his problems go way back. they come from his father’s unloving and cold gaze and his mother’s absence whenever his father lifted his finger. as if that wasn’t enough, his brother tom would always be in the spotlight, while mattheo was kept hidden away in the shadows. if that’s how he felt, no wonder he had to find a way to forget all about it.

you tried to help. you always did.

but how were you supposed to help someone who didn’t want help himself? drugs surely aren’t the only way out. self control is a term long forgotten in mattheo‘s mind, and it was solely on him to change that.

hence you’re not as certain as him that this talk is going to help. mattheo has made too many empty promises, told too many lies and had too many accidents. sometimes even unforgivable ones. the hand that rested on that red haired girl’s lower back every time you’d meet up with your friends, that couldn’t just be a mistake. you’d love to know what he whispered in her ear whenever he had too much to drink, and you crave to know her replies, considering the relationship between you and mattheo wasn’t ever a secret. at least you didn’t make it one.

he’s already sitting on a bench in the park, carefully petting a dog that was busy sniffing the ground beneath him. mattheo sees you and immediately stands up to make his way over to you, leaving the dog behind to run back to its owner.

“they kinda look alike, don’t they?”

“who?”

“that dog and its owner, same eye and hair colour”

you smile slightly and look up at mattheo. your good looking, sweet and romantic matty. you used to be so deeply in love, one look at him and you were on cloud nine, swooning and giggling with nothing but pure adoration and love in your eyes. your little dates used to be fun, with deep conversation and lighthearted gossip sessions with moments of comforting silence filling the spaces in between.

and now? meaningless topics and useless small talk. Just the same as your last few meetups one month ago. It was more of a chore than it was enjoyable. some time has passed, the birds loudly chirping while you and him walked with slow steps, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, yours swinging slowly on either side of your body.

„i’ve been clean for almost three weeks now, actually. 20 days.“

your eyes widened and your head quickly turns to look at him. you’re happy for him, you truly are. but your heart still doesn’t feel as full as it usually would with mattheo, and if he managed to keep that 20 day streak during a whole month of almost no contact between you two, then he would manage it also when you’re not with him anymore. right?

„oh, that’s great! ‘m proud of you, mattheo,“

„you don’t sound as happy as I expected,“ he begins, „is something wrong?“

at that moment he knows he has to claw back his confidence. maybe you had already given up, and he just didn’t want to believe it. he know you well, without a doubt. it was the lack of his nickname that gave it away. your loving ‚ matty ‘ was replaced by a simple ‚ mattheo ‘ , no nickname, no pet name. 20 days, for him, is a long time. why aren’t you half as happy as when he told you about his one week achievement 2 months ago? is it because just a day after telling you about it, you found him asleep on his couch with a half empty whiskey bottle on the table in front of him?

„no- i mean, yes, actually. it’s just-“ you stumbled over your words. you don’t want to have to say it, don’t want to say it loud, don’t want to see his pained reaction and, most importantly, you don’t want to be the cause of it. but you know you can’t keep going like this, you had lost hope a while ago, and this is the only way out.

„do you think we can be friends?“

he blinks. „what?“

your voice is shakier than ever. „friends, mattheo. i can’t keep going like this. i want to break up, once and for all. our relationship has been going downhill for too long now, you know that.“ your eyes are fixated on your shoes, not daring to look him in his eyes.

he swears he can he hear his heart being shattered and torn apart and feels how a part of his soul is leaving his body, leaving the rest to grow tired and dark and empty. tears slowly fill his eyes as he reaches for your hands, making you look at him.

you do, but quickly pull your arms back. „you can’t do this to me! i- i need you, i can’t do this without you, i can’t!“ warm tears roll down your face, and you want to hug him so bad. keep his body close to yours and not let go.

but you have to let go.

mattheo hates it. but if being friends with you means he doesn’t lose you completely, then maybe it’ll be okay. and if he really loved you, and you really loved him, then maybe, if he gets better, you’d come back. he hopes.

„and if i change?“

„maybe, matty- mattheo,“ your voice trembles „but i need to be sure you don’t hurt either of us for now. i need time, but i don’t want to lose you. friends mattheo, please?“

„you wanna be friends? after all thi-“

„mattheo i‘m begging you“

he pinches his nose, tears streaming down his face. this is his fault. of course it is. this is the consequence he has to deal with. He should’ve realized sooner that his alcohol consumption wasn’t only his, but also the problem of the people around him. and now he loses you just because of his reckless and stupid behavior. he has to change. he needs to.

„alright! fuck, alright. friends. i‘ll make it better, i swear. i won’t disappoint you, not again.“

you nod, mustering up a smile as well as you could. you hug him one last time, feeling his hand wrap around you body with a tight hold on your shirt. you feel his tears falling onto your shirt, and he feels yours.

he hates it, but maybe he needs this wake-up call. he will change. 20 days and many more to come, he won’t go back. and he’ll do it for you.

the sun slowly sets and you’ve reached the same rose garden you’d come to after your first date. the memories flood back but it’s no use.

mattheo and you, you’ve now reached the end.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it wasn’t until two days later that you went to the same park again with your best friend alex. „isn’t that mattheo over there?“

your heart paused for a second as you looked over and saw the boys with beer bottles in their hands. draco took a sip as theo had already downed almost half oh his beer in one swig.

you felt your heart break thinking about how mattheo already started drinking again after only two days. until you actually looked at his hands, finding nothing but a simple can of coke.

you left out a sigh of relief, smiling to yourself.

your eyes locked and he smiled back at you, even his eyes seemingly lighting up. you blushed slightly, turning you head back to alex. 22 days wasn’t a lot, but it was great starting point. especially for him.

„yeah, that’s my matty.“

hope you liked it! requests are open <3

[hsakuras]

GLIMPSE | H. SAKURA

cw: possessive(yandere?) sakura, soulmate au, cunnilinugs, cream pie, fingering, kinda yandere towards the end, ooc sakura, bubbles give you a blurry glimpse into your soulmate’s world, fem! reader, mentions of male masturbation

a/n: this is extremely self indulgent.

Sakura thinks that the world must hate him. He was already an outcast in his previous town, pushed away by people without being given a fair chance but when he moved to Makochi he would get a new start, a guarded one, but new nonetheless. 

He believes the world has to hate him because the first time he saw bubbles floating by with glimpses of someone else’s life, your life, he thought he was officially going crazy. 

His first year, his friends explained the concepts of soulmates and the bubbles that would float in your mind or would float by if children were playing with them to catch small glimpses of other people’s soulmates. It would make the kids gush and laugh, blushes growing on their cheeks as they continued to run. 

The second bubble floated by on his way to school. He saw you, well– more like he heard you. 

The bubble floating by contained your laughter, so uplifting and sweet it caused him distress. He popped it, heart aching because he didn’t think that he would already have a soulmate so young. 

He meets up with Suo and Nirei later that day, explaining the bubble. When he looks up at both his friends they are giving him soft smiles, congratulating him on seeing the very first glimpse of his very own soulmate. 

“It’s not something everyone gets at our age, usually we’ll get teasing glimpses as children but nothing concrete enough to remember” Nirei says. 

For the first time he wanted something more than just to live in peace, he wanted to share his time with you, he hadn’t even met you yet but he knew he had to have you, keep you close to him so no one could steal you away. 

He deserves this. 

He’s gone through so much. 

He deserves you. 

His face would go beet red when images would float by in bubble in his mind of your walk, your bedroom, your shopping spree, your fucking morning routine for crying outloud! 

He didn’t know how to handle it, surely the universe made a mistake. You seem so put together and social, easily trusting and like a light no matter where you go. The complete opposite of someone like him who has difficulty trusting even those who have proven themselves to be trustworthy. 

He mentions this to Kotoha once, after getting teased to no end she tells him that soulmates aren’t a mistake. 

“Sometimes they’re exactly the people we need so we learn to be a little bit more like them.” Her voice is gentle as she pours Sakura’s coffee. 

He doesn’t mention you to her after that 

-

During his second year, the most memorable glimpse of you for him would be the bubble that floated by of you laughing, twirling in your room in your new dress. It woke him up out of a dead sleep, face flushing furiously reaching his ears because he thought that you were beautiful. 

That same year, he got to see your face. It was unclear, moving in the bubble passing by from one of the neighborhood kids playing, he followed it for a moment, heart aching when it slowly sank in front of him. Your blurry smile in the bubble, his eyes widening before it pops. 

-

His third year, he gets the most heartbreaking glimpses of you possible. He sees your anger, your frustration and ultimately can hear the cry of a betrayal over some asshole that led you on.It fills him up with so much hatred and an overwhelming urge to protect you, it makes him more determined to find you. 

A few weeks later, he gets another scene in a bubble, he can hear you and your parents arguing. You’re explaining you’d like to move to Makochi, it’s a great town, and cozy. You could start a business. You’re raising your voice the louder that your parents get, standing firm in your argument that your parents do not paint the path of your future for you. 

He can hear your father calling you delusional and your mother talking you down. It breaks his own heart and for the first time in a long time, Sakura cries. 

-

The next year he doesn’t get very many bubbles, he thinks that you might have fallen in love with someone else, Nirei’s explanation of the decreasing bubbles echoing in his mind. 

“It’s just speculation though,” Nirei reassured, “You’ll probably meet her soon.”

He’s too scared to get his hopes up again, he wonders if the argument with your parents eventually won you over and you chose the path that they had laid out for you. He’s used to this, the disappoint, when he dares to want something or to get curious about something it’s ripped out of his hands before he can really enjoy it. 

He decides this is fine, it wouldn’t stop him from living his life the way he wants. 

-

He’s out late at night during a random summer day, walking back towards his little apartment ignoring the commotion going on at a bar down behind him when he hears your laugh. 

He whips his head around only to see you, the real you, laughing at some drunkard that fell. 

“It’s what you get for following me!” You yell, turning back to continue your walk. Pretty dress on and heels in your hands when you stop mid walk, eyes widening and silence between you both before you smile at him. 

You take a few steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you until you’re so close you can feel the heat of his body against yours. 

“Hi Haru” you say, your voice gentle and so sweet when he hears you say his nickname. It’s like a punch in the gut and he’s so fucking dizzy he can’t see straight, it’s really you. 

“H-hi,” the words are stuck in his throat, “you’re uhm–you’re here.”

No, those aren’t the words he wants to use, he wants to call you breathtaking, wants to hug you, and keep you all to himself because this is the only thing that life has given him and has actually kept its promise. 

“Yes, I’m here.” you confirm, he doesn’t know what comes over him. He’s cupping your face so gently like you’re one of the bubbles that will pop if he touches you a little too rough. You lean into his touch. 

“I saw you when my siblings would play with bubbles and in my dreams,” you say, wrapping your arms around him, eyes shutting when you make contact with him and relaxing when you feel him wrap his arms around you back. 

“I’m sorry it was so hard for you, Haruka. I saw– I saw everything,” he feels like there’s a lump in his throat and he swallows harshly, “I’m so happy I found you.” You say, not pointing out how you can hear the small sniffles coming from him. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I’m so happy I found you too”

-

He leads you back to his apartment, quick to finally kiss you. It’s sloppy and overwhelming his tongue and teeth clashing against yours at a desperate attempt for him to mold his soul with yours.

When he pulls away from you, you’re both panting and spit covers your lips with a string of saliva still connecting the two of you before he goes in for another kiss. He cradles your skull in his hold, tongue slipping into your mouth with a little more finesse this time. 

He kisses you against the wall of the entryway of his apartment, slotting his knee in between your legs and he has to breathe to not cum in his pants at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy on his leg, the only thing in the way is your panties.  

“Fuck” he pants into your mouth, hands finding the hem of your dress and traveling up your legs to cup your ass before he’s picking you up and carrying your to his bedroom. He’s gentle when he lays you down, pulling his shirt over his head before delving back to claim your mouth. 

“Haru-” you breathe, unable to get another word in because being with Sakura meant that you had to accept all of him. It was a lot, the years of pent up loneliness and need to feel loved surfacing in that moment. His mouth was on your neck, kissing, biting and sucking into all of your sweet spots as if he’s done this his whole life. 

He sits up, looking down at your disheveled state from just kissing him. 

“I heard that sometimes you can control what your soulmates see,” his voice low and gravely, “mind telling me why I would see how you’d touch yourself?” 

He pushed the hem of your dress up and the top pulling it down to reveal your tits to him. His mouth automatically watering at the sight before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties when he releases your nipple with a pop. 

“I saw it before they stopped showing up more frequently. I could hear how fucking desperate you sounded, how needy you were.”

He pulls your panties down your legs, flinging them into the corner of the room somewhere. His fingers make quick work of his belt, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to reveal his cock, hard and leaky. 

“It was the last one I saw, you know.” He pushes his pants down further, his socks coming off as well before he adjusts you on the bed and helps you out of your dress, leaving you completely naked under him. 

“I thought you found someone else, I got so fucking angry I wanted to find you and lock you away.” he laughs, watching your reaction as he takes your hand and wraps it around his cock. 

“I never sent you ones like these because I didn’t know that I could.” he squeezes your hand in his, showing you the pace he likes and covering his shaft in his own precum. 

“I used– fuck–I used that image of you to fuck my fist to you over and over again and it was never enough.” his voice is lower, face flushes a furious red that spreads down to his chest and ears. 

“See how you got me, baby?” He smirks, leaning back down to kiss you, it’s slow this time sensual when he uses his tongue and has your thighs clenching. He kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the area of your collar bone and sucking a hickey on your tits before he’s face to face with your pussy. 

“She needs me.” his voice is stern, you wonder if the glimpses of him where he was so shy and overwhelmed were just fragments of who he used to be, it’s hard to imagine him being that way now. 

He takes to fingers to spread your folds, cooing at how wet you are. 

“She wants a kiss” he says it so quick you barely register it before his lips or sucking at your clit, your back arching and shifting your weight into his mouth, he releases your clit, finger finding it and playing with it, drawing small circles that have you twitching in his hold. 

He flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your cunt before delving inside tongue in your whole and he groans, deep and primal bucking his hips into the bed and dripping more pre. 

“Haruka,” you sigh, fingers finding his hair and tongue, eyes so intense looking at the way you pout and struggle. 

He comes up, smirking at you, “yeah, baby?” 

He inserts a finger, mouth back on your clit as he crooks his finger upwards finding the spot that has your moans changing in pitch and really writhing against his face. He works up a good pace, muscles in his arm going taut and how he finger fucks you. 

He comes up, not losing his pace as he kisses you again forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

Your eyes are glazed over and you really truly wonder if you have the right guy but who else has his hair or eyes colors? He has you seeing stars when he speeds up his pace, inserting another finger and laughing, actually laughing when he feels the spot he’s been looking for. 

“Want to see her cum, baby.” He coos, pace unrelenting as you weekly grab onto his wrist and protest that the feeling is too much and that something else is coming. You warn him, voice trailing up an octave as he takes you over the edge, vision tunneling when you squirt all over his arm. You’re panting when he pulls his fingers out of you, adjusting you so that he’s between your legs. 

He takes his arm covered in your arousal and brings it up to his mouth licking up to his wrist before lining his cock up with your entrance. 

“Did you let anyone in here raw?” he asks, tapping the head of his cock waiting for your answer. 

It’s hard to keep up with him when his demeanor can change so quickly, you nod your head no feeling the head of his cock tease at your entrance, his hands taking hold of your thighs to push them against your chest, your legs hooking on his shoulders. 

“Good. I’m the only one, you hear me?”

He’s inching himself forward, groaning at the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his dick. 

“Fuck– relax, yeah? I’m here, baby.” He draws soothing circles on the back of one of your thighs, bringing his hips back and forward working himself in slowly. 

“Haruka, you’re so long,” you pant, trying to make sense of the feeling of his cock head against your cervix and how he stretches you out. 

He doesn’t comment but it makes him groan, his weight shifting on your as he brings his hips down against yours, he gets harder when he hears skin slapping against skin and when his balls touch your ass. 

“Has anyone ever cum in you?” 

Your eyes widen and that’s all the answer he needs. 

“I’ll be the first then. I’ll fill you up and paint your insides so everyone knows your mine. You hear me?” 

His pace speeds up, eyes not knowing where to focus as he fucks you, losing himself in your pussy because, god, this is the best feeling ever. Your warmth around him and arousal dripping down his balls is what he was missing. 

For the first time in his life he’s thankful for whatever higher being is out there, he’s thankful he found you. 

He leans back a bit, seeing a base of white around the base of his dick and you moan when his thumb finds your clit. 

“Sorry, you’re so hot, I won’t last long. I need you to cum with me, okay?” 

You nod your head, dumbly too lost in the pleasure of his cock and the friction of his thumb against your clit. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to reach your climax, he fills your insides with his cum and your comment about how warm it is sends him reeling and twitching against you. He collapses on the bed next to you, pulling you close to him. 

“Between you and I, I would lock you up where no one but me could see you and no one would know.” He says it so casually you think it’s a joke, so you laugh.

He’s not kidding. He smiles back at you though, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As he’s cleaning you up he does think about taking you away for real. If he could get away with it, he would. He can’t afford to lose something so precious.

[tealvenetianmask]

Blitz is dyslexic (petty post about why I'm right with proof from recent episodes)

Disclaimer: I don't have dyslexia, so I can't speak from personal experience, BUT neurodivergent people tend to find each other, and I've been very close with a few people with dyslexia, to the point where I've extensively edited their writing. I've also learned quite a bit about dyslexia while working in the education field. Okay- let's go.

I hear way too often (yes, I'm referencing a certain youtuber here) that Blitz can't have dyslexia because we sometimes see him reading and we sometimes see him writing without errors. So when he shows spelling and grammatical errors in his texts and notes to self, that must just be him being rude/trying to be cute/being lazy.

And if the errors were just slang and abbreviations, maybe the people making those arguments would have a point. But they're not. And I'm convinced that he has dyslexia. So what gives? Why the inconsistency (assuming it's an intentional choice on the part of the writers)?

Most dyslexic adults CAN write correctly with extra effort. It's just harder. In the learning disability world, we sometimes call it self- accommodating. With any disability, that means doing work that neurotypical people don't have to do in order to overcome the obstacle that the disability poses- and often, no one else sees that work or understands that it's necessary. For people with dyslexia, that often means that they have to check and double check their writing.

When YOU AND I (if we're both non-dyslexic people) write casually and don't put in effort, our spelling is going to be mostly correct. And if we use slang and abbreviations, it's a choice. When someone with dyslexia shoots off a quick text, it's going to look messy, and they'll probably only do it in a text to someone they're comfortable with. THAT IS THE DIFFERENCE.

Let's look at some recent examples from Helluva Boss.

Blitz is writing notes to himself here, so he doesn't have any need to make them presentable. Cute inside jokes with himself are possible (i.e. the horses and nicknames that we sometimes see), but the spelling mistakes here don't really make sense as jokes. They also wouldn't be easier to write than the correct words for someone who isn't dyslexic. Mok(backward S)ie isn't shorter than Moxxie, and remembr isn't much shorter than remember. The spelling is also phonetic, which fits with how many people with dyslexia spell in initial drafts. He just isn't watching for and correcting his mistakes, because why would he in this situation?!

Okay, different situation . . . the apologies. I would argue that Blitz IS putting in physical effort here, even if it's not emotional effort. He brings entire gift baskets full of his favorite foods for the people on his apology list after all. Here's what he writes to the DHORKS:

I think "sowy" IS meant to be cute here. It's not phonetic after all. He put a little effort into drawing them a cute little horse too. And then the cherubs . . .

I think this is pretty interesting. Blitz actually bothers here to fix his spelling mistake. He spells everything right on the inside too, even though he's telling these guys "fuck you." Notice that he runs out of room and has to write sideways. And notice the nice block letters on the front. In terms of why he's trying so much here, well, it's to prove to Stolas that he can put effort into apologizing to people, isn't it? And that means that the unintentional errors get fixed!

Now, Blitz tries to text an apology to Stolas (and obviously stalls for emotional reasons), and we see him typing it in real time,

Yeah . . . it's a combination of shorthand and just plain old misspellings. He's focused on choosing the right words, not on getting the spelling right, and it's impossible to say he doesn't care at this point. Someone who has an easy time writing correctly spelled text might use some shorthand, but just like we saw with Blitz's notes to self, they wouldn't likely intentionally misspell completely unnecessary things, especially when trying to come off as genuine.

Sigh. I rest my fucking case.

If you'd like to see my thoughts on that text conversation from Western Energy, go ahead and click on the link- it isn't really about dyslexia, and I do actually think that Blitz is pretty literate in spite of his disability and limited education, but it does explain why I think the conversation goes the way it does.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 10

Part 10:

Art wanted to die. There’s no other way to describe what he had been feeling for the last three days. He hadn’t seen Liana anywhere. Not in the cafeteria, not outside her lectures, not outside the dorms.

He considered entering her room with the key he had, but he knew she would demand it back, and he clung to that key like it was his lifeline. He knew it was his last access to her life at the moment.

Art knew everything he said was a mistake from the second he said those things. To be honest, Art doesn’t remember what he said exactly. He just knows that Liana’s expression changed in minutes from humiliated, to sad, to disgusted, to angry. He knows he made her cry. He made her sob. Liana. The same Liana who, when she entered his room, he asked if she had been crying. When she left his room, he was the reason she cried.

He didn’t know how to come back from this. He didn’t know what to do or who to call or how to start breathing regularly again.

“You’re playing like shit,” he heard Tashi’s voice from afar and lifted his head. “Bad day,” he mumbled and forced a smile. “A bad day isn’t four balls in a row hitting the net. What happened?” she approached him, examining him.

“Nothing, Tash,” he sighed, “Can’t I have a bad day with a few balls not making it over the net?” he rolled his eyes. He said something to Liana about Tashi. And now, looking at her, trying to remember what he said; It couldn’t be anything good. It must have been something awful because the speed at which she distanced herself from him and the look she had would be etched in his mind forever. Why doesn’t he remember what he said? How is she supposed to believe he’s sorry if he doesn’t remember what he said?

“Do you want to play a set?” she asked, and usually, he would jump at the chance to play with Tashi, but it was already the time Liana was supposed to go to her lecture, and maybe today she would leave her room. “No, I think I’m done for today. It can't get any better from here. I need to shower. Good to see you.” He gave her a light touch on the shoulder and headed to the locker rooms. Liana would've definitely noticed that his smile was fake. He stood in front of her room as the door opened. If he thought he looked awful, Liana looked devastating. She looked like she hadn't slept for a month, like she had cried half her life. Her face was swollen, her eyes were red, and dark circles surrounded them.

Her mouth was half open as she looked at him. Both of them tensed, standing in place, unable to speak. “Li…” he started, seeing her begin to breathe heavily in response. “Can we tal-” he needs to make it right. He knows he can make her feel better if she lets him. “You have some nerve,” she mumbled, turning to lock the door, but he knew it was an excuse not to look at him. He knew if he could make her look at him long enough, he could get her to talk to him. He could manage to apologize. “Liana, please.” His voice was weak, begging for attention.

She started walking quickly, and he followed her, keeping pace. “I need us to talk, Liana. Please. It’s me. Give me five minutes. Li-” he spoke, and she stopped abruptly. “Did I stutter when I said you’re the worst person I know, and I never want to see you again?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears that would fall if she just blinked. He knew it was from anger and frustration. Art closed his eyes and swallowed, taking a breath. Her words cut him like a knife. “I know-” he started again.

“Arthur,” she paused for a moment, studying him. He hoped she saw the immense suffering he was in. How sorry he was. That he didn’t mean it. That he needed her in his life. That he might lose himself entirely if she wasn’t a part of him. “Right now, I’m in mourning. As far as I’m concerned, I’m sitting Shiva for you because you’re dead.” She looked at him, still not blinking, not allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of him again. “Do you want me to beg? I can beg.” His voice was weak again. He felt the tightness that comes before tears start to flow. “Unlike someone I know, I don’t get off on humiliating others. Enjoy your life, Art. I hope you get everything you want as long as I’m not part of it.” She concluded the conversation and walked away. He didn’t continue following her, feeling all his internal organs shrink at the sight of her moving away. And maybe she’s right; Maybe he’s really already dead, and this is hell.

The month since the phone call with Liana passed slowly for Patrick. He wasn’t functioning properly. There was a tournament he only made it through two rounds of, and Liana wasn’t answering his calls. For his part, he wasn’t answering Art’s calls. Not that Art called much. About three times, then he probably got the hint. Patrick had nothing to say to him.

Liana called that night and sounded in the worst state he had ever heard her. Worse than that time she broke her arm in the summer at age 15 when they were riding bikes. And that says a lot because her pain threshold is quite high, and if Art managed to make her react like that, he must have done something terrible.

Liana didn’t tell him in that call what Art did, and when Patrick asked if she wanted him to come to her (he really meant dropping everything and going to Stanford), she said she’d rather he didn’t.

So, a month later, with a free weekend, Patrick found himself wandering around Stanford with a bag containing a racket and some clothes. 'If you arrive early, ask Art for the key he has; maybe he’ll give it to you,' she texted him, and he could almost hear her voice through the screen. Broken. Art Donaldson, his best friend, broke her. He wasn’t sure he could look him in the eyes again.

“What are you doing here?” Tashi’s voice sounded from behind him. They hadn’t talked since the fight in her room a few months ago. “Looking for Art, actually…” he mumbled, lowering his gaze to her knee, “Sorry about the injury.” He didn’t know what to say, and she just shrugged.

She looked small and almost fragile. Something in her gaze was shattered. “Yeah, bad move.” She swallowed. Tried to be strong about it. The truth is, he read about it in a sports magazine and wanted to call but didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to help from afar, and he didn’t know if Tashi wanted his help. “What do the doctors say?” he asked as she sat on the bench in the stands, looking at him and expecting him to do the same. “That time will tell? And we need to see how the physiotherapy goes.” She smiled, but her smile was fake; he saw the sadness in her eyes. She wasn’t trying to hide it much.

“I’m sorry, Tash.” Patrick sighed. He really didn’t know how to help. “Art was amazing through all of this. He really helped me.” She examined Patrick and his reaction. “I’m glad he was here.” He said sincerely. He knew that when Art wanted to dedicate himself to someone, he did it in the best possible way.

“I’m sorry for how it ended between us, you know that, right?” he asked after a few seconds of silence. “Yeah, Patrick, I know.” She almost rolled her eyes. “Are you going to fix what he broke?” she asked, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “There’s a shift in his behavior. I don’t know what happened, but something in him changed. He doesn’t talk about you or Liana anymore. It’s a bit weird considering how much time he used to dedicate to both of you.” She said, as if reading his confusion.

“I don’t know if it’s possible to fix what he did, Tash.” He sighed. “Time will tell?” she asked, repeating what her physiotherapist said, and they both knew it probably wasn’t true.

Art waved hesitantly from afar, causing Patrick to nod and get up. “I’m sorry, Tashi. Really. You can call me if you need anything, you know that, right?” he asked. “I won’t do that.” She rolled her eyes, “But thanks,” she concluded the conversation for him.

“Hey.” Art said and quickly ran a hand over his neck. “What’s up?” Patrick asked relatively coldly. They hadn’t talked for a month, the longest they hadn’t spoken since they were 12. For a moment, it felt like talking to a stranger. “Why are you here?” Art asked, skipping the small talk and looking at him with a scrutinizing gaze. Trying to figure out if this was a friendly visit or if he needed to prepare for a battle he didn’t get an advance invitation to.

“I don’t know how to say this, Art,” Patrick mumbled. “Then don’t say it, Patrick,” Art rolled his eyes in response. He felt his heart racing. He realized he was about to lose Patrick.

“Art, come on,” “This is between me and her, Patrick. It doesn’t have to be between us too.” Art said, almost begging. “I need the key to Liana’s room.” Patrick sighed quietly. “Fuck off.” Art started to walk away, showing him a middle finger and laughing a laugh that sounded almost deranged. “Tell Liana if she wants the key her father gave me, all she has to do is come to me and ask.” With that, he left the court, leaving Patrick alone. Well, with Tashi as an audience in the stands.

"So, I guess the key thing didn't work out?" Patrick was sitting in the hallway across from Liana's room, absorbed in his phone, when he heard her voice. Almost amused. Almost like he remembered her. He stood up quickly, scrutinizing her, wanting to see every part of the girl he remembered. To see that she was whole. To see that she wasn't broken.

"I'm fine, Patrick. You can hug me," she rolled her eyes, and he did just that. He hugged her and refused to let go, closing his eyes and inhaling her intoxicating scent. He hadn't realized how much he missed her in the month she barely communicated with him. He didn't understand how much he worried about her until he laid eyes on her.

"Do you want to come in, or are we going to stand like weirdos in the hallway a bit longer?" she asked. "You're mean," he responded and pulled away from her. Not too much. Just enough so they could enter, and he could hug her again.

"Hey," he said once they were inside and he pulled away from her for the second time. He examined her again. She looked tired. Not different from how she looked the last time he saw her. But that time, she had a spark. That time, Art's hand was on her thigh in front of him. That time, he played a part in breaking her. She would never know, but Patrick did it. Patrick caused Art to behave like a wounded animal. Patrick knew exactly what he was doing. He threw him a bone, and Art couldn't resist; he had to ruin everything.

"We have to go to his game tomorrow," she said after they sat quietly on her bed for a few minutes. "What?" he asked, looking at her. "His parents will be there. They know there was something between us, but they don't know we're not talking. And it's already too many changes with me leaving and all. I have to be there, and now that you're here, you have to come with me." She smiled at him. He knew it wasn't a genuine smile. He knew if he didn't go with her, she'd feel even more fragile.

Patrick knew Art. Patrick knew Art even better than Liana. He knew Art lived for opportunities like the one he'd have tomorrow. Liana had to come to his game, sit with his parents, be disciplined, and meet the standards their families held for her. Art was born to exploit opportunities like these.

"Okay. We'll go, and at the end of his game, we'll come up with an excuse. Something about you having an exam, and we have to leave." His arm was around her as she leaned on his shoulder. "What did he say when you asked him for the key?" Liana asked. "Amanda," Patrick sighed. "Just tell me." "That if you want it, you should ask him yourself," he told the truth and felt her nod. "Do you want that key so badly?" he asked, looking at her again. "No. He can choke on it for all I care," she shrugged, but the smile she gave him was fake.

"Can I tell you something without you thinking I'm crazy and a stalker?" Patrick began the conversation for which he came. He moved away from her a bit, sitting across from her. He needed to see every expression. Every facial change. He needed to understand if she was telling him the truth. "You're scaring me, Patrick Zwieg. Come on, say what you have to say. Did you put a camera in the Stanford bathrooms?" she joked, making him give her a light slap on the shoulder. "Be serious," he commanded, and she nodded in response, removing any hint of humor from her face.

"My parents changed their minds about tennis," he said, and her eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, her smile starting to widen. She was happy for him. She knew that to succeed, he needed their support. "They gave me a five-year plan. They said I need to take some business courses twice a week. The rest of the days, they’ll fund an apartment, a coach, and tournaments," he continued explaining to her.

"Patrick, that's wonderful. That's great news. I'm so happy for you." She was ecstatic. He saw it on her. It was a joy that couldn't be faked. The kind that made him smile too. "Now for the creepy part. Don't hate me, okay, Li? Because I see how you get when you hate Art, and I don't want to be that person-" he started rambling. "You would never treat me the way Art treated me," she interrupted him. He saw her jaw tighten. Realizing that was a bad example. "They know someone who knows Kirk Morcich, and he saw videos of me and said I have potential..." He saw she was losing him, not understanding what he was talking about and why he was rambling incoherently, "It's in London. I'll be in London." He concluded. Watching her expression.

You can say many things about Liana, but she doesn't know how to hide what she feels. Her emotions always go a step ahead of her. She wears them on her face like a parade of shame. Blushing too easily, shaking when angry, crying immediately when hurt. She can't lie about feelings. Either she feels them, or they're not there. "Are you serious?" she asked, her eyes starting to sparkle. She wouldn't be alone. Patrick would be with her. So many possibilities. "Tell me it's a good thing and you don't hate me," he said, completely nervous. "Pat, this is the best news I've heard in the past month. I could kiss you," she said and jumped on him in a hug. For the first time in a month, Liana was happy.

Art’s parents recognized them in the middle of their conversation with, well, Art. "Liana, you even look more grown-up. I can't believe you're leaving us like this," Christine, his mother, pulled her into a hug without a second thought. "Mom, let her breathe..." Art said. There was no visible discomfort on him. He was acting as usual. "How are you, sweetheart? Are you eating properly? You look thinner!" she examined her from all angles. "Are you taking care of her?" she turned to her son, who swallowed nervously, unsure how to approach the situation. "Everything's great, Christine. I'm eating all the time," she smiled. Both Art and Patrick knew it was a fake smile. A smile that looked like she had practiced it in front of a mirror. One that revealed teeth but didn't characterize her.

"Unfortunately, we probably won't be able to stay for the game. I just wanted to say hello and wish you good luck," Liana didn't look at Art at all, just glanced at him and saw his fingers moving uncontrollably. "Why, honey? We wanted you both to have dinner with us afterward. To catch up. I'll tell you about all the places in London where you can go and feel surrounded by Americans, so you won't be alone for a moment," his mother was lovely. She really loved Liana as if she were her daughter. It warmed Liana's heart and at the same time made her so angry. How could Art take and destroy such a relationship for a momentary whim?

"I already told Art earlier that I have some project due tomorrow, and Patrick said that if he's already here, he could help me. I hope that's okay." She still didn't look at him. Patrick, on the other hand, looked at him. Art changed colors. He didn't know how to handle the current situation. Throughout it, Liana was better than him at maneuvering the situation. "And besides, I won't feel alone in London. Patrick will be with me." This time she looked directly at Art, and her smile was genuine. It was unmistakable. "Really? How did that happen?" Art's father, Tim, intervened in the conversation. "Long story, something about a coach whose name I can't remember, but it's so great that everything worked out like this, and I won't have to start from scratch." She spoke quickly, lowering her gaze from Art just to give her attention to his mother, who nodded with a smile of her own, not understanding everything happening beneath the surface in this conversation.

"It's a shame you can't stay for the game; after all, you're his lucky charm," she said after a few more exchanged words. "Maybe it's time to find a new lucky charm," Liana replied, and everyone laughed. Some genuine, some fake.

Patrick, at that moment, observed Art, whose gaze was already fixed on him and didn’t let go for a second. Art didn’t laugh. Hello there!!! How are we doing? Patrick is really stepping up his game for our girl! As usual, I'd like to hear any thouths you have. I really love talking to you and getting to know what you want for the story.  you can always ask to be part of the taglist :) taglist: @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss