#what are you going to do about it??? mind control me???

[okwonyo]

NERVOUS, 或 𓈒𓈒 making them loose it.

SUCC𝑖NCT───────⠀❛ 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𓈒 ❜

( R𝑒QUESTED ) 𓈒 ⠀𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 7OO fluff ── non idol au skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢��𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀dedicated to @jaexiyu my girlfriend 🎀

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

HEESEUNG&princess treatment : the simple action of your hand reaching his cheek, then cupping his jaw in your palm ever gently before, under his hypnotised gaze, running the finger tip of your thumb on the corner of his lips— sends him into a spiral. the tip of his nose gets red and he is unable to say anything, and before he can even do, the raise of your praise stops him in his tracks. warm creeps all over his body when you pat his cheeks lovingly and says, “good boy.”

“oh my god,” he chokes.

JONGSEONG&public display of affection : listen, if there is one thing about your boyfriend is that he loves to touch you. whenever he can, wherever he can. he has a thing for doing it under the public eye— sliding his strong hand on the back of your lower back, to show everyone you are his. when you do it, it is different. you showing him off makes his heart crave you even more. your thumb rubbing his nape, here in front of all your friends, makes a shiver run down all the way to his spine. 

the world already faded away, “it tickles,” he tells you. 

JAEYUN&tucking his hair behind his ear : he has never planned on keeping his long hair for longer than a month. usually, when he finally had the time to book an appointment at the hairdresser, he would cut it again. his hair habits completely changed when you did that for the first time. he admits that his hair was a mess at that time, but he was too busy talking to you to even notice. when your finger tucked a stray harstrand behind his ear, like in the movie, the air inside of his lungs evaporated. he couldn’t even do anything, and you adding ‘keep on going, baby’ didn’t help much.

“o-okay,” he stuttered out.

SUNGHOON&eye contacts : the hottest part about this, he thinks, is that you have no idea of the true power you have on him. he doesn’t think you even realize what is the reason he stutters or stops breathing when you talk. even during the times whereupon you watch him from afar, he stops completely in his tracks— as if you have mind control—you don’t understand. it’s your eyes, he whines all the time to his friends about. your godforsaken eyes boring in his, alluring him like a siren in the ocean, closing his mouth. 

“i—you—we,” he malfunctions, his stomach aches from all the butterflies in it.

SUNOO&pet names : he remembers, there was a time where he would find any sort of petnames given by romantic partners beyond embarrassing. he was never the type to call any one by those and disliked the idea of someone using one on him. he realized later on that it wasn’t disgust but sheer nervousness. because, yes, he admits that he has a weakness that would fall on his knees for you if you dare to call him ‘babe’ one more time. he especially loves when you say it in a whine— when you groan his petnames.

he hides his face in the crook of your neck before giggling, “what?”

JUNGWON&flirting back : as the annoying and teasing boyfriend that he is, making you so flustered that your face burns and that you trip over the words you are trying to get out of your mouth, is his first mission. and he succeeds most of the time, a quick “don’t hesitate to call me if you need a hand taking that off,” while looking down at your dress. but when you retort with an “don’t start something you can’t finish, handsome,” as you slightly quirk your brow— it’s different. 

“bet?” he says after five minutes of silence, but you are already doing something else. 

RIKI&compliments : never in his life he has found praise and compliments embarrassing to get. in the contrary, he loved them a lot. although it is not embarrassing when it comes from you, it’s totally different— and he can’t really pinpoint why. it is just that you have always been something else, you have always known the exact way to make his emo boy act melt in one single word. his heart completely bursts when you cup his face and coo, “isn’t he so cute?”

he holds your wrist, not to get your hands away, however. he chuckles like an highscool girl amd trailing the word, “stop,”

ㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[nightingale-prompts]

Do NOT Touch a God- DC x DP Prompt (Tim x Danny)

Correction: don't touch Danny.

A rule has been added to the house rules of Titans Tower. It started after the arrival of the summoning of the interdimensional teen that takes residence there.

Despite being only a teenager the power he held was at the level of a god. He causally reshaped reality around him to his liking. Rooms are made bigger on the inside but remain the same outside. Danny's hate for things getting too dirty made all clothes left on the floor for too long disappear into the laundry room and spilled drinks evaporate. The tower became self-cleaning as everything found its place on its own. Danny said it was just what he prefers, lab safety and all that. Sometimes Danny would turn off gravity, no reason be just likes it like that.

Unfortunately, he doesn't go on missions except for extreme situations where he is needed. He is content to spend his time in the med bay as the resident healer. He is also one of the few that can fix up Cyborg. Danny doesn't get involved unnecessarily. This has led to a few arguments in the past over how unhelpful he can be despite being able to help them. Danny shrugs it off and disappears when it happens. It was not fair on him, if he didn't want to fight he shouldn't have to. He was an asset and he offered his help freely.

So why does the No Touch rule exist? Well, Danny doesn't like touching people. He wears gloves for a reason especially when he is working in the bay fixing up everyone after a mission. He also avoids others touching him, shrinking away when someone tried.

Everyone respected that boundary but after a rough mission in particular Kon started an argument with him. The injuries were severe and he was just mad that M'gann was hurt. Danny was already overwhelmed with healing everyone and Kon seemed to strike a nerve. When Kon almost made contact with him Danny flickered out of existence and reappeared further away.

After several hours of fixing broken bones and open wounds Danny retreated.

Tim decided to check on him later. Kon was sorry for overreacting and blaming Danny for something he couldn't control but Danny probably didn't want to see him right now.

Danny looked worse for wear when he opened the door. He looked tired, weary from using his energy. He wrapped a blanket around himself.

They talked for a while. Mostly about nothing important, other times about how stressful things were right now.

Tim often found it hard to believe that Danny wasn't just a normal teen. Then again, what did he know about normal?

But he had wondered something.

He reached out and tried to hold Danny's hand but Danny moved away quickly noticing.

"You shouldn't do that." He said simply.

Had he been Dick he would repect the boundaries and if he was Jason he'd probably agree. But he was Tim and Tim was very bad at boundaries. That's kind of how he got here.

"Why not?" Tim asked.

"It might be too much," Danny said cautiously eyeing Tim who held his hands up.

"Try me."

Danny sighed and removed one of his gloves and touched his hand to Tim's shoulder.

All at once different sensations filled his senses. A comforting touch of a friend, a light fluttering of a passing stranger on the street, a strike of a hated rival, the steady hand of a family member, the playful tap of a classmate, the caress of a lover...all at once. Each feeling is defined but also blurred. It was almost like being pulled in thousands of directions as they tried to claim a part of Tim into their reality.

A single touch sent him into a trace. When Danny pulled away he expected to have broken Tim like how a child accidentally snaps their toys when playing. He knew his touch could overwhelm people almost to death. Clockwork said he'd be able to control it some day but Danny didn't even want to test it. Being able to fracture someone's mind was scary. Seeing it happen once was enough. So why did he try it on Tim? Did he not care what happened to him?

It's a bit selfish and embarrassing to admit but...not being able to touch another person was awful. He's not clingy but it feels like he has lacked sensation for a long time. Tim willingly asked for this and Danny wanted this as well.

Tim wasn't broken. Infact he had never felt more alive. When Danny removed his hand he found himself pulling it back to him. He couldn't explain it but it felt like...everything. Indescribable but amazing. It was contradictory but all of it made sense.

"Do it again!"

Things kind of escalated from there. It would probably be crass to even say it but let's just say that neither was lacking sensation. It was profound, not purely physical nor emotional, something else entirely. The religious sort would call it divine or a blessing, perhaps it was what heaven feels like. Others would call it sinful, partaking in things no human was meant to know or experience. The folly of humanity.

It was certainly addictive though. Whispered words echoed in every tongue. With every contact a new chorus created. The memories of long dead god flashed and worlds yet unawakened showed themselves. And just when it seemed like everything in the universe had collided and finally made sense...it was over.

There was a knock on the door.

Danny managed to roll the breathless, Tim off with a groan. He stretched feeling a bit locked up. He had been holding each other for a while now.

He opened the door and saw Kon standing there nervously.

"Look, Im sorr-"

"Danny?" Tim called out groggily interrupting whatever Kon was saying.

"I'm busy," Danny said quickly closing the door to go back to...you know.

(So were they having sex or just cuddling? I have no fucking idea and I wrote this. I feel like it's a secret third that is somehow worse.)

[hellobykittys]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 2.6k WARNING: enemies to lovers, teasing, fake relationship

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

The meeting room was lit by cold lights reflecting off an impeccably clean glass table. Charles Leclerc sat at the head, his chin resting on his hand, visibly bored. The tension in the air was thick, and he already knew this meeting wasn’t going to end well. Around the table, members of Ferrari’s PR team sat, along with Lorenzo Leclerc, Charles’ older brother and personal manager.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, crossing his arms. His voice carried the firmness of someone tired of useless discussions. “Charles, we need to talk about your reputation.”

Charles rolled his eyes, setting his phone down on the table.

“My reputation? You mean the circus the media makes out of everything I do?”

“It’s not a circus if you keep giving them material,” Sofia, Ferrari’s PR head, cut in. A woman with short hair and piercing eyes, Sofia was known for her blunt and impatient approach.

“Seriously?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to control my personal life too?”

Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Charles, we’re not here to debate who’s right or wrong. We’re here because your image is directly affecting your career.”

“My career’s fine,” Charles shot back, crossing his arms.

Sofia slammed a folder full of tabloid clippings on the table, making a sharp noise.

“Is it? Because from what we see here, it doesn’t look like it. ‘Charles Leclerc spotted at a party until 5 AM with a mysterious model.’ ‘Ferrari driver involved in a new controversy after a fight at a club.’ This affects the sponsors, Charles. It affects the Ferrari brand.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face.

“Look, I get it. But what do you want me to do? Lock myself in my house?”

“Not exactly,” Sofia replied with a cold smile that made Charles immediately suspicious.

Lorenzo cleared his throat, trying to soften what was coming.

“Charles, we’ve come up with a solution that could help clean up your image quickly while you focus on what really matters: your performance on the track.”

“Great. So, what’s the plan?” he asked, clearly impatient.

Sofia leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table.

“We’re going to put you in a fake relationship.”

The silence that followed was so deep that you could hear the clock ticking on the wall. Charles blinked a few times, sure he’d misunderstood.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“We’re not,” Sofia replied, serious. “The idea is simple. We want to associate your image with a public figure who’s seen as positive, inspiring, and… balanced.”

“You want me to fake being in love with someone to save my reputation? This is ridiculous!”

“It’s not that simple, Charles,” Lorenzo tried to intervene. “We’re not asking you to fall in love. It’s a contract. An agreement. None of this has to be real.”

Charles laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

“And who’s this poor soul you’ve hired for this?”

Sofia smiled, clearly expecting this question.

“Y/N.”

The name hit the silence like a shot. Charles frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard it. It didn’t take long before the girl’s face popped into his mind. She was impossible to ignore on social media, with her impeccable style, viral videos, and appearances at fashion and entertainment events.

“You’re talking about that… influencer?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not just any influencer. She’s the influencer right now,” Sofia corrected. “Everyone loves her. She’s elegant, charismatic, and has a solid fanbase. Associating with her will change the public’s perception of you.”

“You want me to fake dating a girl I barely know and who probably thinks race cars are just fancy toys?” Charles shot back, irritated.

Lorenzo took a deep breath, visibly trying to stay calm.

“Charles, no one’s saying it’ll be easy. But think of it as a strategy. Y/N isn’t just an influencer. She’s professional, ambitious, and has as much to gain from this as you do.”

“Great. So, she’s doing it for personal gain too,” Charles said sarcastically.

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“This isn’t about what she wants, it’s about what you need.”

Charles sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the table. The idea seemed absurd. He didn’t want to give up his freedom for some farce that, deep down, made no sense to him.

“You guys must be crazy if you think I’ll agree to this,” Charles declared, suddenly standing up. His voice echoed through the room, but no one seemed surprised by his reaction.

Lorenzo sighed, already expecting this kind of response. He knew his brother too well to think he’d accept something so outside his comfort zone without resistance.

“Charles, sit down,” Lorenzo said, his voice firm and authoritative. “You have every right to be angry, but if you keep acting like a spoiled child, you won’t get anywhere.”

“A spoiled child?” Charles laughed darkly, pointing at his brother. “This coming from you, trying to convince me to join this ridiculous show. It’s my life, Lorenzo! I’m not a puppet for you guys to manipulate.”

Sofia intervened, trying to stay professional, but her patience was clearly wearing thin.

“Charles, understand this: we’re talking about your career. It’s not just about you. It’s about the team, the sponsors, the thousands of jobs that depend on Ferrari’s success. Formula 1 is a business, and in this business, your image is as important as your driving skills.”

“My driving skills should be the only thing that matters!” he shot back, pointing to himself. “I’m a driver. That’s what I do. I’m not a celebrity who needs a fake romance to get attention.”

“Don’t be naive, Charles,” Sofia replied coldly. “In today’s world, public perception is everything. You could be the best driver on the grid, but if your image keeps getting tied to scandals, no one will want to invest in you.”

Lorenzo crossed his arms, looking at his brother seriously.

“You know she’s right. You don’t have to like the idea, but you have to accept that it’s necessary.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the knot in his throat only tightened. He hated the idea of being seen as someone who couldn’t control his own life, but Lorenzo and Sofia had a point: the external pressure was becoming unbearable.

“Why her?” he asked, his voice a little quieter.

Sofia gave a slight smile, as though she’d been waiting for this question.

“Because Y/N is exactly what you need. She has an impeccable reputation, knows how to handle the media, and most importantly, knows how to play the game.”

“And how are you so sure she’ll agree to this?” Charles asked, crossing his arms.

“We’ve already talked to her,” Lorenzo revealed. “She agreed. Obviously, she has her conditions, but she’s willing to collaborate.”

Charles laughed, incredulous.

“Of course she agreed. She’s probably loving the idea of being associated with me. She’ll gain even more followers and the ‘Wag’ title. That must be her dream.”

“Don’t underestimate Y/N,” Sofia warned. “She’s far from being a superficial girl. If she agreed, it’s because she saw value in the proposal, just like we did.”

Charles fell silent for a moment, processing everything that had been said. He felt a mix of anger, frustration, and, in a way, helplessness. He hated being put against the wall, but he knew refusing wouldn’t solve his problems.

“And how long is this going to last?” he asked, his disgust evident.

“The contract is for a year,” Lorenzo answered. “Long enough to solidify the lie, but short enough not to be unsustainable.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work,” Sofia assured him confidently.

Charles let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“I hate you guys.”

“Feel free to hate us all you want,” Lorenzo replied, standing up. “But do what needs to be done.”

Sofia grabbed the folder and gave one last look at Charles.

“Y/N will be here tomorrow to talk officially. Hope you’re ready.”

With that, everyone began to leave the room, leaving Charles alone. He slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that, like it or not, his life was about to change.

The meeting room was spacious and well-lit, with glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city. Charles Leclerc was already there, on time this time, sitting next to the conference table in a relaxed yet attentive posture. He was casually flipping through a document, but his mind was elsewhere. The decision to accept the deal still felt surreal.

When the door opened, he lifted his eyes and saw Y/N entering with confident steps. She looked calm, self-assured. She wore a fitted blazer and pants that accentuated her confident posture. Her perfume reached him before her voice, subtle yet striking.

“Hope I’m not late,” she said, placing her bag on a chair and giving Charles a brief glance before looking away.

“You’re not,” he replied, giving a slight nod, observing her carefully.

Lorenzo and Sofia entered right after, carrying folders and an air of seriousness.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, taking his seat at the head of the table. “You both know how important this partnership is, both for the team and for your respective careers.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice, right?” Y/N commented, not aggressively, but with a touch of realism.

“Not exactly,” Sofia answered, unfazed. “But we expect you to see the mutual benefit in this.”

Charles leaned his elbows on the table and glanced at Y/N for a moment before speaking.

“And you? What do you think of all this?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but maintained her composure.

“I think it’s… unexpected. But I won’t deny it’s an opportunity. And you?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering.

“I think it could work, as long as we follow a few rules.”

“Rules?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he answered, with a slight smile. “Like, don’t try to kill me in front of the cameras.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, almost genuine.

“I think I can follow that.”

Lorenzo interrupted, trying to keep the focus.

“Great. Let’s start by clarifying expectations. You’ll need to attend events together, create interactions for social media, and above all, look natural.”

“Does that mean we need to get to know each other better?” Y/N asked, looking directly at Charles, this time with less provocation and more curiosity.

“Probably,” he replied, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary.

Sofia cleared her throat.

“For that, we recommend starting with something simple. A dinner, maybe. Nothing formal, just so you get used to being together outside a professional setting.”

Y/N looked away, pretending to think, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about the idea.

“Seems fair,” she finally said, grabbing a pen to sign the contract placed in front of her.

Charles didn’t say anything but let the corner of his mouth curve into a slight smile. He grabbed his own copy of the contract and signed it right after her.

When they finished, Lorenzo looked at both of them.

“Perfect. From now on, you’re officially a couple.”

Lorenzo’s statement hung in the air like an uncomfortable reminder of what had just been signed. Y/N grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but hesitated at the door.

“Charles?” she called, without turning around.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t plan on complicating this, but I hope you do your part.”

Charles adjusted his watch nonchalantly, as if this kind of deal was something he had mastered.

“I always do.” A discreet smile formed on his lips. “But maybe we should establish a few rules to make sure it works.”

“It’s so nice to see you both so… invested!” Sofia interrupted, letting out a light laugh. “But I’ll leave the details to you two. Just don’t kill each other, please.”

Lorenzo stood up shortly after, giving his brother a nearly conspiratorial look before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. When he said goodbye to Y/N, he smiled warmly, as if to say, “Good luck.”

Once the room was silent, Charles broke it with a casual tone.

“So, about those rules…”

Y/N crossed her arms, clearly determined to make everything crystal clear from the start.

“The first limit is simple: don’t touch or kiss me without prior notice.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, surprised, but entertained by her firmness.

“You do realize that’s basically what couples do, right? Touch, kiss, look close… How are we supposed to convince anyone we’re real if we’re so mechanical?”

“I never said it was forbidden,” she corrected, remaining calm. “I’m just saying, don’t do it without a reason or without letting me know first.”

He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly.

“Do you really think I’m interested in anything beyond what this contract requires?” He stepped forward, not breaking eye contact. “What happened at the club was just an impulse, not a sign that I’m in love with you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing every word he said.

“Great. Then it shouldn’t be hard to keep your hands and lips off me.”

Charles opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a clear challenge, with something more hidden behind that confidence.

“Of course,” he replied, finally curving his lips into a nearly provocative smile. “But I’ve got my conditions too.”

Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, unfazed.

“Alright, go ahead.”

“You have to attend my races whenever you can. And when you can’t, show support on social media. It’s the least I expect.”

She let out an incredulous laugh.

“I’m gonna be your fake girlfriend, not your number one fan.”

“As my girlfriend, you should show support. Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Plus, my fans will love it. It’ll be good for our image.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but knew he had a point.

“Fine, but I’ve got commitments too. Don’t expect me to be at every race.”

Charles shrugged, still with that annoyingly confident smile.

“It’s a start.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was as if both were evaluating the other, trying to figure out what was coming next.

Y/N adjusted her bag again and took two steps toward the door before stopping.

“One more thing, Charles.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow, curious.

“If you want this to work, stop trying to always have the last word.”

He smiled, a mix of challenge and amusement.

“That’s asking too much.”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head before finally walking out of the room.

Charles stood there for a moment, staring at the door she had just walked through. There was something about her that made him feel intrigued, and he knew this story was far from simple.

Outside the building, Y/N got into the waiting car and took a deep breath. “This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” she mused as the driver started the engine.

Back inside, Charles picked up his phone and quickly sent a message to Lorenzo.

Charles: “If she thinks she can challenge me, this is going to be fun.”

On the other side, Lorenzo just laughed as he read the message.

[sanemistar]

TAKE ME BACK

contents ★ ex!geto x fem!reader, angst to fluff, exes then back to lovers, slightly ooc geto (?), 1.2k+ wc. requested for my milestone event. author's message ★ trying a new layout for this one :3 i honestly love this color combo plus these are my favorite colors ever <333

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

seeing your ex boyfriend suguru for the first time after the breakup left you with mixed feelings of both familiarity and unfamiliarity. in terms of appearance, he hadn’t really changed. he looked pretty much the same way as you left him except his jet black hair had gotten longer. however, something about his aura had changed. you weren’t exactly sure what it was, you just had a feeling that it wasn’t the same as before, it was a tad bit softer, more gentle, and it made you feel as if you were being in the presence of a completely different person.

tension began to rise as awkward silence filled the atmosphere around you. it was excruciating and you had a hard time breathing, your heart clenched painfully. you were anxious and nervous.

yet despite all that, deep down inside your heart was a part of you that wanted to see suguru again, which grew bigger when it actually happened, you were quite happy to see him again after all that time.

if you were being completely honest, you had never been able to move on from him. so in other words, you still had feelings for him. and if he ever asked you to get back together, you would do it in a heartbeat without a single hint of hesitation.

you knew he wouldn’t though, and these were only wishful thoughts on your part. because you were pretty sure things between you and him had ended once and for good that day. showing no signs of a reconciliation.

“you haven’t changed at all.” your eyes widened slightly, it was as if he was reading your mind. was it some sort of telepathy or something? you didn’t know. his voice pierced through your ears, and it got you thinking that his tone hadn’t changed in the slightest. his voice was still as soft as it could be.

“you too, sug—geto.” you almost called him by the nickname you gave him back when he was your boyfriend, but quickly realized and changed to his last name. however, it didn’t feel right to you. it felt so forced, simply because his nickname used to roll off your lips ever so effortlessly, your tongue was so used to the sound of ‘sugu’ as it rolled out naturally. so when you forced it to say his last name instead, it came off weird.

suguru chuckled, a somewhat sad smile made its way onto his face upon hearing his last name rolling over your lips. the sound of it felt foreign to his ears as it reminded him that you two weren’t in the kind of relationship that allowed you to be on a nickname basis anymore. it hurt him, and it hurt him deep.

because truth be told, he too, still loved you. he tried his hardest to move on with his life, he went out with many girls, and he even went as far as to sleep with them in desperate attempts to forget all about you as if he’d never met you. but to his misfortune, his attempts never worked out. you were simply unforgettable to him, he could never erase you from his heart even if he wanted to.

he had left his heart with you on the day you called it quits, and couldn’t manage to get it back to give it to someone else.

you felt as if time was frozen, and you were stuck in yet another prolonged moment of silence. with just you and suguru together, no one else.

your mind was constantly telling you to run away, to not look back and leave him behind. that you were better off without him. but your emotions took control over your actions as your heart refused to let your body move, and you remained still in your spot.

“i can’t believe i let you go,” suguru spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever, breaking that thick layer of silence. “i was such a fool, wasn’t i?”

his regretful tone caught you by surprise, you couldn’t believe that it was possible for suguru to regret a decision he made. yet there he was, spilling out his regrets in front of you.

you slowly parted your lips open, thinking of what to say back to him.

“isn’t it a little too late for that?”

that wasn’t what you wanted to say, you wanted to say that you missed him, that you still loved him, that you wanted to get back together with him.

but your mind was too quick to react. you wished you could take back what you said, but it was too late for that.

“maybe… but if i’m being honest with myself, i still love you. actually, i don’t think i’ve ever stopped loving you once.” you watched suguru admit that he still had feelings for you in utter disbelief. it was the last thing you expected to hear from him. how he looked at you while he was talking and how earnest he sounded were enough proof that he was being sincere and genuine, he meant every single word he said.

suguru on the other hand, felt some sort of relief washing over him after finally letting his suppressed feelings for you out of his chest. he didn’t know if he would ever get another chance to see you again, so he was more than determined to win you back. it wasn’t guaranteed that you would allow him in your life once again, but he was still willing to give it his all.

“so please just,” he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before proceeding. “take me back to you.” it sounded as if he was pleading, perhaps he was indeed pleading. he was just desperate at that point as this was his last resort. but he didn’t care if he seemed desperate, he was able to put his pride aside and show you his weak side. to suguru, if showing his vulnerability to you was the price he had to pay for him to get you back, then so be it.

“you idiot, of course i’d take you back. i wouldn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t you, i will always love you.”

that sole sentence was enough to bring you to tears because of how moving it was. you immediately run towards him and throw yourself in his arms as you wrapped your arms tightly around him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him for dear life. his body slightly flinched under your touch, but quickly reacted as his strong arms pulled you closer to him. your bodies were so close that you could feel the warmth of one another.

“welcome back, sugu.” you said in between your sobbing, finally allowing his name roll off your lips ever so easily. he smiled upon hearing his nickname being said as he gave the top of your head a series of small, tender pecks.

“yeah, i’m back home.” he hummed softly against your ear.

suguru had been lost for so long, but at last he was finally back to where he belonged, to you, his home.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies @suguru-getos ( @gothsuguru + @hiraethwrote special tags for you my loves since you asked me about it )

[reaper2187]

Caitlyn kiramman x female reader

The Shadows We Share

The Escape Plan

The path back through the corridors of Stillwater was tense. Vi kept sneaking glances at Y/N, as if to confirm she was real and not some phantom conjured by guilt. Caitlyn, on the other hand, was focused, her analytical mind already calculating how they would manage to get Y/N out alongside Vi.

“Caitlyn,” Vi muttered, keeping her voice low as they followed the warden. “We’re not leaving without her.”

“That complicates things,” Caitlyn replied, her tone clipped but understanding. “The more people we bring, the more attention we’ll attract.”

“I’m not leaving her here,” Vi snapped, her fists clenching. “We’ll figure it out.”

Behind them, Y/N followed silently, her stoic demeanor unshaken. She noticed the exchange but didn’t comment. Her mind was already at work, mapping the prison layout she had memorized over years of captivity. If this was her chance, she wasn’t going to squander it.

When they reached a secluded corner near the cell blocks, Caitlyn turned to Y/N. “Do you have any useful information about the guards or the layout?”

Y/N leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “Useful? Yes. But I’m not handing it over without knowing what you’re really after.”

“We’re here to get Vi out,” Caitlyn said firmly. “You’re a...bonus.”

Y/N smirked faintly. “How flattering.”

Vi rolled her eyes. “Y/N, cut the cryptic crap. If you’ve got something, now’s the time.”

Y/N’s expression shifted, a flicker of something warmer—reminiscent of the sisterly bond they once shared. She relented with a small sigh. “Fine. The guards rotate every four hours, and the weakest point is the west gate. It’s minimally staffed because they assume no one gets that far.”

“That’s...convenient,” Caitlyn said, skepticism creeping into her voice.

“Convenience has nothing to do with it,” Y/N replied. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this. You just happened to bring it to me."

The trio moved quickly, keeping to the shadows as they made their way toward the west gate. The air was thick with unspoken tension, especially between Caitlyn and Y/N.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who’s supposed to be an inmate,” Caitlyn remarked quietly as they walked.

Y/N glanced at her, her lips twitching into a small smile. “And you’re awfully chatty for an enforcer.”

“I’m just trying to figure you out,” Caitlyn replied, her voice steady. “You don’t strike me as someone who belongs in a place like this.”

“That’s because you don’t know me,” Y/N said simply. “But I know your type—Piltover’s best and brightest, always thinking you’re a step ahead. You’re predictable.”

Caitlyn bristled, but before she could respond, Vi intervened. “Enough. Both of you.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Relax, Vi. I’m just getting to know your...friend.”

“Yeah, well, save it for after we get out,” Vi said, shooting them both a warning look.

When they reached the west gate, Y/N’s intel proved accurate. The area was lightly guarded, and the trio quickly dispatched the two sentries patrolling the corridor. Caitlyn’s sharpshooting combined with Vi’s brute strength made for an efficient team, though Y/N watched them with an air of quiet judgment.

“You two work well together,” she observed as they approached the gate.

“Thanks,” Caitlyn said, her tone curt. “Now, how do we get this open?”

Y/N stepped forward, examining the control panel beside the gate. “Leave it to me.”

“You know how to hack this?” Vi asked, surprised.

“I’ve picked up a few skills,” Y/N replied, her fingers moving deftly over the keypad. “Being locked up doesn’t mean you stop learning.”

Within moments, the gate creaked open, revealing the cold, misty expanse of the sea beyond. Caitlyn glanced at Y/N, impressed despite herself. “Not bad.”

“I aim to please,” Y/N said with a small shrug.

“Let’s move,” Vi urged, stepping through the gate. “We’re not out yet.”

As they made their way toward the rendezvous point Caitlyn had arranged, the silence was heavy with unspoken questions. Finally, Caitlyn couldn’t hold back any longer.

“You’re different from what I expected,” she said to Y/N, her voice carefully measured.

Y/N raised a brow. “And what did you expect?”

“Someone...less composed,” Caitlyn admitted. “Most people in Stillwater lose themselves. You seem like you’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Y/N’s gaze turned distant. “Let’s just say I’ve had time to reflect.”

Vi, sensing where this was going, decided to ask the question she had been avoiding. “Y/N, what happened after they took you? Why didn’t you try to contact me?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, and for the first time, a flicker of vulnerability broke through her stoic mask. “Because I didn’t want you to see what I’d become.”

“What are you talking about?” Vi demanded, her voice rising. “You’re still you.”

“Am I?” Y/N’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “Do you know how many lives I’ve taken? How many people I’ve hurt to survive?”

Vi fell silent, the weight of Y/N’s words sinking in.

Caitlyn, however, pressed on. “And your brother? Where does he fit into all this?”

Y/N froze, her expression hardening. “That’s none of your business.”

Vi looked between them, confused. “Your brother? I didn’t even know you had one.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Vi,” Y/N said quietly. “And it’s better that way.”

As they reached the extraction point, Caitlyn’s contacts were waiting with a small boat. The group boarded quickly, the roar of the waves muffling any further conversation. Y/N sat at the back, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

Caitlyn watched her from a distance, her curiosity growing. There was more to Y/N than she let on—something dark and deeply personal. Caitlyn wasn’t sure whether to trust her, but she couldn’t deny the strange pull she felt toward the stoic woman.

Vi sat beside Y/N, her usual bravado replaced with quiet determination. “You’re coming back with us,” she said firmly.

Y/N glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “If you say so.”

As the boat sped toward freedom, Caitlyn couldn’t shake the feeling that their troubles were far from over. Y/N’s connection to Jhin, her past as a hitman, and the unspoken bond she shared with Vi were all threads waiting to unravel.

part 3 anyone? leave any requests you guys and also do comment because they are funny and i love interacting with you all

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

baby, ride me to the darkness of the night

“F-Fuck—Ughh—can you feel it, baby? Can you feel my big cock pounding into your pussy to the rhythm of the music?”

Of course you could feel it. Oh, you felt it all too well.

Falling for Gojo Satoru’s charm wasn’t exactly a challenge. One glance from him was enough to have you slipping your panties down, wet and ready, waiting for him. And once he was inside you? The sensations he’d bring were like nothing you’d ever felt before.

You hadn’t even wanted to go to the club tonight, but your best friend had insisted you needed to celebrate finishing your midterms with something fun. Begrudgingly, you’d let yourself be dragged along, realizing that the night’s control was no longer yours.

At first, you’d rolled your eyes and sighed. But after a few shots, you felt bold enough to dance. On the dance floor, grinding against your best friend, collecting every wandering gaze, you had no idea the most dangerous one of all had already undressed you with his eyes and was fucking you senseless in his mind. Not until your friend leaned in, whispering about the blue-eyed devil watching you from upstairs.

People had given him many names: “The Strongest,” “Blue-Eyed King,” “Perfect Face.” But to you, the only one that truly fit was “Devil.”

Devil always got what he wanted. Sometimes, he lured people into his games with wicked tricks. Other times, he simply waited, his prey crawling to him willingly.

When you glanced in the direction your friend indicated, it became clear the Devil had already chosen you for his game. And without a word of protest, you chose to be his willing sacrifice.

You had no idea when exactly his hand gripped your waist and pulled you away while you were dancing with your friend. You could feel the hardness pressing against your ass. In fact, it was impossible not to feel it. And you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering just how much harder he could get.

Well, testing it wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Turns out, the results were conclusive. So much so that the Devil himself—Gojo Satoru—couldn’t hold back anymore. He’d dragged you into the women’s restroom, pinning you to the wall, his lips devouring yours the moment you were alone.

And now? Now your legs were wrapped around his waist, your already too-short dress pushed up to your hips, while his thick cock plunged in and out of you.

Each thrust hit that perfect spot, leaving you delirious as the beat of “São Paulo” synced with the rhythm of his hips. Your back slammed against the wall with every stroke, driving you closer and closer to madness.

You were letting the club owner fuck you senseless in the women’s restroom—something you never would’ve imagined yourself doing.

“S-Satoru—sl-slow-slow down, it’s too much,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the pounding music outside.

“Fuck no, baby. Haaah—I know you don’t want me to slow down. You just want more, you filthy little slut. F-Fuck, yeah—” he growled, his masculine rumble sending a shiver down your spine as he thrust into you harder and faster.

The sound of your bodies colliding echoed through the bathroom, but not a single soul dared to interrupt. It was as if, even through the blaring music, your shared moans were enough to warn everyone off. Nobody wanted to interfere with the Devil’s play.

And they had no right to.

“Mmmfp—I’m—I’m gonna—OH GOD, Satoru, I’m coming! Keep going!” you cried out, your voice trembling with the orgasm building inside you.

With one hand braced against the wall and the other gripping your hip, Satoru quickly moved his hand from the wall to your hip, using both to bounce you harder on his cock. It felt so good that you weren’t sure anyone else could ever fuck you this perfectly again.

“Shit—I’m coming too… You’re going to take all my cum like a good girl. Like *smack* a *smack* good *smack* fucking *smack* girl,” he hissed, accentuating each word with a deliberate thrust.

With a guttural groan, he spilled inside you, his head dropping to rest against the curve of your neck as his hot breath fanned across your skin. You could feel his semen dripping down your thighs as your legs trembled around him.

You closed your eyes, trying to process what had just happened.

You’d let the Devil ride you to the darkness. And it turned out, people were right—devil wasn’t a little red man with horns and a tail.

Sometimes, he had striking blue eyes and a massive cock.

a little note: i was listening to "são paulo" on the metro, and this idea came to my mind. this song definitely gives off Gojo vibes.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[postcardsfromheapside]

I need to be salty for a hot second about people who are upset about aspects of Lucanis' romance.

I'll put everything else under the break for spoilers, but in general, I am so disappointed in a large portion of this fanbase who apparently thought "disaster" meant "romantasy," but also it's in keeping with how a lot of people seem unable to put things in context.

One of the complaints I keep seeing run past is that the scene where you commit to a relationship with Lucanis seems pefunctory, or out of the blue, there's nothing really romantic about it, it's too similar to the platonic route, etc, etc, ETC.

I romanced Emmrich, but I've seen other people's versions of romancing Lucanis. I'm just going to kind of word vomit here, and hope I can come up with something cohesive.

As someone who id's with Lucanis for "generational abuse" and "dumpster fire disaster bi" and "using socially acceptable drugs as coping mechanisms in place of addressing your problems" reasons, it's been really fucking annoying watching the almost deliberate misinterpretation of his character even after Mary Kirby dropped several explanations on social media. It's like a large part of the fanbase saw all that and turned into the "yes yes, very sad...anyway!" meme and went right on fetishizing him...then got mad when he didn't turn into the seductive Dom with wings they were hoping for.

You commit to Lucanis after (what I consider) a very intense scene inside his "mind prison." He's struggling so much internally that Spite wrests control of his body from him in front of witnesses and begs Rook to help them. Lucanis would never ask Rook to do so on his own, he's terrible at asking for the help he truly needs. Spite drags Rook into the Fade Ossuary and demands they free Lucanis from his self-imposed prison. And whether you're a friend or would-be lover, Rook slowly talks Lucanis out of a host of self doubts regarding his family and friends. Can he trust himself not to hurt other people, now that he's saddled with this affliction? Has he disappointed the people he cares about most? Do these new people he's coming to care about actually trust and care about him? The rooms are filled with fragmented thoughts that peter out into regrets. You're literally seeing Lucanis' fractured and complicated emotions.

One of them tore a hole straight through me: "You'd have to kill me...And Spite would die."

You'd have to kill him to get rid of the demon. And he'd regret the death of the demon that's protected him and given him strength, through a brutal year of betrayal and torment. I don't know if y'all remember the scenes in the Ossuary of the failed experiments and the corpses you had to pass to get to his jar of blood. It wasn't fun.

When you break out of the mind prison after helping him bond with Spite, it's intimate and momentous, even on a platonic route. You've seen desperate and lonely parts of him he'd never willingly show anyone.

As you're convincing Lucanis that it's okay to leave his mind-prison, you tell him you understand that it's easier to deal with problems like the Ossuary and Zara than healing and living with Spite, potentially hurting people he cares about. But he wants to. It's Rook's job to help him see a path out, a way for him to make the struggle easier so he can begin to heal himself.

I need to stress: you aren't "fixing" him. You're acting as his lighthouse, regardless of whether you're a friend or a lover. Sometimes people need help. He's still going to have to do the work to get there.

As a friend, it was extremely rewarding to come back to the kitchen and see him doing exactly as I'd hoped: moving on with the business of *living*. He made a nice dinner for everyone he's come to care for, and a special dessert for Neve. Cooking is where Lucanis finds creativity, and comfort, and connection with his friends and family. He isn't very good with words, but he will note everything you consume, and try to make you feel loved by expressing it that way.

Which is why I think it's important you don't dismiss the commitment on the romantic route. He remembers YOUR favorite drink and makes YOU a special dessert if you're romancing him. Lucanis isn't going to get poetic. You've already made him feel raw. You've seen the ugly, embarassing parts of him. What is he supposed to say? Usually it takes Spite reaching through his body to actually be direct. Instead, Lucanis reaches for food, his favorite medium, to try and apologize for inadvertently showing you those things, to thank you for helping him despite seeing what he considers the most shameful parts of him. Your commitment is letting him know that you value him, that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that you understand what he's trying to express with his struggling communication skills, which appear to get better as your relationship progresses from there.

It's weird that some of y'all don't feel that this is heartfelt and important, because you'd rather him act out some sensuous fantasy trope. It's also weird that some of you haven't figured out that many scenes in RPG's can be similar on platonic and romantic routes with tweaks to shade context.

(Also just in case this comes up: cooking is not his "love language" - that whole concept was invented by a misogynistic weirdo and we should remove it from our ideas of communication)

Anyway, this guy is my Rook's bestie and I'll go down swinging for him, you should appreciate the fuck out of him and stop acting like his writer didn't craft a perfectly funny little weirdo who is bad at showing people his tender parts and terrible at interpersonal relationships.

[jackiezenauthor]

Someone mentioned a furry becoming a werewolf and it got me chuckling. Of course, I made it worse.

Cw:

furry shenanigans.

No 'action'

single take

"Feel them! They're so fluffy I could die!" the giant wolf squealed like a teenage girl... which she used to be, right before Matilda's summon got lured away from its intended target and decided to sink its demonic fangs into the wrong person.

She looked past the giant furred jugs that were meant to be breasts, trying to figure out what the beast meant. Always hard to tell with animal heads, but this one looked rather... Pleased?

"And I have toe beans too!" the werewolf squealed again, staring at her own paws. "And look at this cake!" she turned around and showed her butt, her tail swinging past Matilda's nose.

The witch stepped backwards, doing her best impression of that smell didn't just insta-kill half of my olfactory cells, and thank Lilith for that. Sometimes people took some time to tease her before finally complaining, and this time she couldn't rush into it either. That wretched demon had messed up, but it was she who summoned it to begin with. For something this irreversible too...

"Nobody believes me, though." the werewolf whined and dropped on the floor, taking a number of books and ingredient jars down with her tail. "For some reason, whenever I open the camera to show them, it cuts off. No matter what I do. And I can't take any pictures either."

Was that crying? Her ears were flat along the line of her head.

Cursing people into lycanthropy was not Matilda's favorite spell, but she'd done it a few times before. This was the first time one had adapted to their new body in a matter of... She checked the clock... Three hours. Usually it took about a week until they even figured out how to stand up on just their hind legs. This one even folowed her summon's smell all the way back to her...

"I am so sorry that you got mixed up into this." Matilda spoke slowly, as peacefully as she could. "You really didn't deserve it."

The beast's eyes widened and a wailing howl broke from her throat.

"You mean, you're going to take it away?" she sobbed.

"Take it awa...? You mean, remove your curse?" Matilda scratched her head. "I... I really can't." she admitted. "BUT! I can make you some potions that will help you keep it in control! Most of the days..." she rushed to the back of her shop, the brew that she'd been working on almost ready. "If you can wait until the moon starts waning."

"You can't?" the werewolf sounded... cheerful?

Yes. The tap on the floor behind her was definitely her tail wagging.

"You don't want the curse removed?" Matilda asked slowly, one hand in her pocket, ready to unravel the silver thread she kept for self defense, just in case the beast exploded on her. It wouldn't have been the first time.

"God, no!" she answered, her tail-wag making a worrisome number of ingredient jars jump on their shelf. "I love being a wolf!" she revealed a worrisome amount of white, sharp fangs, in what could be suspected for being a smile.

Matilda went back to stir her brew one more time, counter-clockwise, then three times clockwise. She reviewed the entire conversation in her mind. No. There had been no real shade of sarcasm, if she accepted the idea that this girl was not, in fact, trying to complain or take revenge... But then...

"Why are you here?" Matilda returned to the main room.

The werewolf got up carefully, holding her tail with one hand and stretching a tote bag to the witch with the other.

"Can you do some kind of spell or curse, so that I can record and take pictures of myself?" she said.

"You want to be on camera?" Matilda looked inside the bag: a phone, a laptop and a webcam...

"Yes, please!" the werewolf flashed her another view of all her fangs.

"I can enchant you a collar..." the witch returned the tote bag. It felt like a very strange fever dream.

The beast squealed and clapped her paws, her tail wrecking havoc through the ingredient jars behind her. She startled and grabbed her tail again, her ears flopping up and down in what could only be... bashfulness?

"I'm so sorry for your jars!" she said. "I'll pay for what can be bought and help gather the others, anytime, just teach me how!"

Matilda nodded, watching the beast cradle her twitching tail to her chest. She really was happy with this situation...

After so many centuries in the craft, she really didn't think anything could surprise her any longer. How wrong she'd been...

"Can it be the pink one?" the werewolf perked up when the witch opened her leather binds cabinet. "And do you need those cuffs anytime soon?" her tail swiped yet another row of jars.

Yeah... There were still mysteries left in the world...

A witch found out to her horror that she had somehow cursed the wrong person. Expecting retribution when the victim came knocking at her doorstep, she was surprised to find them rather pleased with the curse's effects.

[therealmylesmorales]

Dating Loser!Vi Headcannons

A lot of this was thought about with the homie @ficsonpost-its, kind of a way for us to cope with the ending of Arcane 🙃

And I never cared enough to follow the plot so this is a college!au where everyone is alive and (maybe) happy

Warnings: Vi herself is kind of a warning, masc4masc couple if it matters, maybe suggestive at some parts, some parts with Jayce are inspired by “the blind leading the blind” stuff one tictok

She met you through Ekko. You were his (adoptive, biological wtfever shut up) sister and safe to say, she was borderline obsessed with you. But, she didn’t know how to approach you at first. Her very obvious crush on you was noticed by both Ekko and Jinx so they took it upon themselves to help her out.

To get some extra money, she works at her dad’s bar, The Last Drop. She’s a bouncer and whenever she’s around, people tend to behave themselves. It was a normal night until Vi saw you chatting up a storm to Vander and she immediately started to panic. But it all seemed to go on well, seeing how the night ended with your number in her pocket.

Vi can count all of the friends she has on one hand, one of them being her sister. So safe to say, when she admitted that she somehow has a girlfriend, none of them believed her. Jayce even called her a liar until she pulled up pictures.

Vi was out one day when she bought you both matching boxers. She cherishes them like it’s her most prized possession, next to you and the brass knuckles Vander gave her.

“Vi, what are these?”

”Batman boxers!”

You couldn’t help but match her wide smile. “Why Batman?”

”Cause he’s a fucking goat.”

Vi will full on body slam or suplex you, carefully, on the nearest couch or bed whenever you seem to be minding your business. The first few times caught you by surprise but now, it’s almost a daily occurrence that you look forward to.

Vi’s fashion taste is something you admire; from the ripped jeans to the cropped muscle shirts that she cut herself, you have nothing but good things to say about her clothes. However, in the comfort of her own home, she never wears a shirt. It’s even rare to find her in her sports bra while she’s lounging around.

“It’s nine in the morning, why are your tits out?”

”Are you complaining?”

”Of course not. But Jayce is coming over so he might.”

You can hear her groaning the entire time but she’ll do it.

Speaking of Jayce, it’s never a good idea to leave them alone for too long or else something would happen. Separately, they’re geniuses but together…those brain cells are nonexistent.

“Vi, it’s been fourteen hours, where the hell were you?”

”Oh, I was getting that tattoo I told you about.”

”For fourteen hours?”

”Yeah, Jayce was with me and he thought it was a good idea to get it done in one sitting. He even got something!”

Needless to say, both you, Mel and Viktor always expect something to go wrong with those two. (Have we lost the art of a good poly-ship? Jayce has two hand so just kiss and shut up)

Do not EVER call her Violet, she’ll think you are upset with her and will probably tweak out and cry. The only acceptable names to call her are Vi, obviously, or ‘Pretty Girl.’ You were only a few months into your relationship when you called her that, she spent like 5 minutes in straight silence not really sure how to react; something you did notice was that her face was as red as her hair.

Vi will also lay her complete body weight on top of you when you lay down; it's one of her favorite ways of cuddling. (For my gamer!readers) Especially if you’re playing a game, you will wrap your arms around her with the controller laying on her back. The both of you will stay there for hours.

“Motherfucker.”

”Die again, cupcake?” She muttered into your chest.

“Radahn is ass.”

A little something extra for my black!readers that love Vi 🫶🏾

Say you can’t find your bonnet. You looked all up and down the apartment, pretty much flipping it over but it was still nowhere to be found. And seeing how it was your favorite, you were a little upset that it was gone. Until Vi came out of the bathroom, said bonnet on her head, giving you a small smile, completely unaware of what she was doing.

[insidekatmind]

Mason can say goodbye to you- Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18,smut,betrayal, english is not my first language

It was an important evening, one of those that marked the start of a crucial week for Mason and the English national team. The party organized to celebrate the beginning of the Euros was elegant yet relaxed, an opportunity for the players to unwind a bit before the challenges ahead. You, as always, were by Mason’s side, impeccable in your tight black dress that seemed tailor-made for you. Every detail spoke of you: your enveloping coconut and vanilla scent, your well-groomed hair, your natural grace that didn’t go unnoticed.

But inside, something was wrong. Lately, Mason had made you feel invisible. A couple of weeks ago, you had tried to talk to him about how his behavior hurt you. They were things that, for him, were “childish,” but to you, they were important. Every time you explained it, he shrugged it off, minimizing your feelings with superficial comments.

That evening, your disappointment was masked by a perfect smile. Mason seemed absorbed in a conversation with Harry Kane, laughing and joking as if nothing in the world could disturb him. And you, well, you could do nothing but try to distract yourself, holding a glass of white wine as you observed the room.

And that’s when you noticed him.

Levi Colwill was leaning against the bar, a barely noticeable smile on his full lips. The tattoos peeking from under his rolled-up shirt sleeves gave him an irresistibly confident aura. And the earring in his left lobe? A signature of his unmistakable style.

When your eyes met, you felt your heart race. Levi raised his glass in a barely perceptible gesture, a silent invitation. You weren’t sure why, but your feet moved toward him before you could even rationalize it.

“You’re too beautiful for a party this boring,” he said, his deep, velvety voice seeming to caress you.

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Maybe I’m just trying to raise the level.”

“You’re succeeding,” he replied, tilting his head slightly as he watched you. “Mason is a lucky man. But he doesn’t seem to realize it.”

Those words hit you harder than you wanted to admit. Levi had picked up on what Mason had ignored for weeks. You bit your lip, trying not to let too much show.

“I don’t think this is the right time for that kind of conversation,” you responded, trying to steer things away.

But Levi wasn’t discouraged. He took a step closer, closing the gap between you. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just… it’s hard not to notice you.”

His scent, fresh and masculine, enveloped you. You felt your cheeks warm and your heart beat faster. That’s when Mason turned around, still deep in conversation with Kane, not noticing what was happening just a few feet away.

“Don’t worry,” Levi continued, lowering his voice as if he were about to share a secret. “I won’t say anything, if you don’t want me to.”

“Levi, you’re... you’re straightforward, aren’t you?” You tried to keep your tone light, but the tension between you was palpable.

“I’m not here to lie,” he said, his smile becoming more intimate. “And you? Will you pretend that I didn’t affect you, even a little?”

You lost your breath for a moment. His confidence was disarming, but there was nothing arrogant about him. He was just a man who knew exactly what he wanted, and in that moment, that something was you.

The problem? You wanted him too.

And here you are in a random room kissing.

You lost your breath for a moment, your heart pounding faster as Levi looked at you, his dark eyes full of an intensity you had never seen. A part of you tried to maintain control, but another part, the one that could no longer ignore the desire burning inside you, pushed you to get even closer to him.

Levi smiled, his gaze locked onto yours as if he could read every thought running through your mind. "You know," he said in a low voice, "I'm not usually one for these kinds of games. But when a woman is this... captivating, it's hard to resist."

You couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking too much, you moved closer, feeling his warm breath on your skin as you looked at him with a mixture of desire and curiosity. And so, without a word, you found yourself with your hands gliding over his taut muscles as he pulled you even closer, until his soft, yet firm lips pressed against yours in a kiss that made you lose track of time.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Every movement, every touch, every single exchange of breath felt more intense, more enveloping. Levi’s kisses were... a thousand times better than those you had ever shared with Mason. There was something overwhelming about him, a passion that warmed you like a fire and made you forget everything else.

His hands, warm and sure, explored you with tenderness, but also with a strength you hadn’t expected. And you responded, letting desire take over. Every kiss was an explosion of emotions that swept over you, a connection that felt like it went beyond the body, as if every part of you were in sync with every one of his moves.

"I don’t want this to end," Levi murmured, his voice a whisper that made you shiver. His gaze deepened, as if he were trying to read every fragment of your soul.

You looked at him, your mind confused but also incredibly clear in that moment, aware that everything happening felt so different, so new, yet you felt more alive than ever. "Neither do I," you replied, the words feeling like an admission more than you wanted, but it was too late to turn back.

And so, in that dark and silent room, your bodies drew closer together, and the kisses became more intense, more wild, while the world outside seemed to fade away. Every beat of your heart mixed with his, and there was no space for regret or the disappointment you had felt with Mason. In that moment, there was only Levi, and his touch that made you feel desired like never before.

You were completely enraptured by his kisses, every movement seemed a spell that enveloped you, making everything else disappear. His breath mixed with yours, and the intensity of each touch sent you into ecstasy. You felt his hands exploring you, but it was never enough; you wanted more, you wanted more than all that warmth, that closeness.

With a natural movement, your hands lifted, looking for her curly hair. As soon as your fingers grabbed them, you pulled him closer, feeling his head bend under your touch as your lips met hers again. You couldn’t stop yourself, the desire grew and made you forget everything else. Each of his kisses seemed deeper, more intense, and you couldn’t help but respond with the same passion, as if it was all you ever wanted.

Levi seemed to feel your every movement, every breath, and he responded with the same strength, with the same desire. His hands moved on your back, drawing warm lines under the dress as his body came closer and closer to yours, as if he could not help touching you.

His mouth came off of yours for a moment, leaving you breathless, but not for long. "You’re having fun, aren’t you?" said, his rough and sensual voice, the smile that was seen on his lips made you tremble.

You nod without words, seeking once again her lips, hungry for her kiss. Every gesture, every caress seemed to increase the desire to feel more of him, to feel every part of his body in close contact with yours. You felt alive, more than ever, as if it was the only thing that mattered, its touch that made you forget everything, as if the outside world no longer existed.

His hands rose slowly, caressing your neck, raising desire like a wave that could not stop. It was as if your body were following him, wanting him, and could not help but respond to his every impulse. And at that moment, you realized that not only were you forgetting Mason, but you were abandoning all thought to let Levi go completely without reservation.

Levi gently laid you on the bed as he lifted your dress and moved your panties to the side and licked your pussy. You moaned as you looked up at the pleasure Levi was giving you.

He had a skillful tongue and was licking your pussy like a hungry man and you were enjoying every moment.

"Levi" you moaned as you lowered your head and saw how she was sucking your pussy and licking it. You were so wet for him you could feel it.

Levi looked up and moaned at your fucking face. You tightened your thighs on her face wanting more and more of her face in your pussy, it looked so good in the middle of your thighs.

You put your hand in his hair and pull it making him groan and his moaning vibrates on your pussy making you come in his mouth and his face.

Before he completely broke away from your pussy, he gave him a last kiss and then stood up as he licked his lips and you groaned at his sight.

"Fuck Mason is so stupid, you’re fucking perfect" he said as he stuck his lips on yours and you moaned feeling your taste in his mouth.

When you broke off the kiss, you helped him take his belt and jeans off and he took off his boxer shorts and moaned at his cock. It was three times the size of Mason’s. He saw your reaction and smiled as he rubbed his cock at your wet entrance making you moan.

"Now I’ll get you to fuck properly," he said as he shoved his cock into you, making you scream and bow your back.

He groans and you looked at him, seeing his lost expression of pleasure as he grunted and pushed himself inside you. "so fucking tight, it seems like you’ve never been fucked" you moaned as you felt Levi pushing harder inside you.

Levi lowered the cups of your dress and your bra to suck your nipples and you were screaming like a crazy for the pleasure he was giving you. At that moment you didn’t care if anyone could get in or even if Mason could find out what you were doing, Levi was making you feel so good it felt like you were on another planet.

His thrusts became stronger and stronger as you were hammering inside and you were beginning to see the stars as you said his name like a prayer and song.

"You’re taking it so well, keep going baby" he muttered and then lowered his head on the neck biting and branding you.

You couldn’t care less that he was leaving stains on your neck, he could do what he wanted and you would let him do it.

Levi could hear how excited you were about this and he smiled. "I bet Mason never fucked you so well, huh?" he said putting his hand on your neck and holding it as you looked at each other. You moaned more for contact and as confirmation of what he had told you.

He smiled and gave more taps faster and you scratched his back making him moan.

"Open your mouth" he said in a whisper and you immediately did what he told you to do and he spat his saliva into your mouth and you immediately swallowed.

He smiled as he pushed harder. "What a good girl, I don’t even have to tell you what to do because you do it of your own free will" Levi whispered and then again attack his lips with yours.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth while you were moaning and sucking his tongue making him moan and as you were kissing he pushed his cock ever more strongly always on your g point and you came on his dick.

Levi was coming too and he watched you as he nibbled on your horseradish. "Where do you want me to come?" he murmured in your crotch as he groaned. "Inside me, please Levi come inside me" you prayed to him and he smiled while boobing and spilling inside you covering all the walls of your pussy with his sperm.

You never let Mason come inside you and you never let him fuck without a condom but with Levi it was different. He had awakened a part of you that you didn’t know existed.

He still buried inside you kissed you again while you made the rubbing on his neck. "You’re mine now, Mason can say goodbye to you," he whispered near your lips and you nodded as you moaned because he was biting your lip.

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [ii]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Tara mistakenly puts herself in a relationship she thought would be full of love.

word count: 1822

warnings: (Tara's POV), mentions of abuse, violence, angst, swearing

a/n: ok hi guys this is mostly Tara's POV and won't really be focusing btwn her and r's relationship. the next part would probably be the last one too but im always up on doing head canons for this pic. anyways apologies for any inaccuracy for this part, if ya'll have any feedback or suggestions feel free to dm me or send anonymously.

part [i] |

Tara never meant for any of this to happen.

She first met Amber a year ago, at a party that invited everyone from both Blackmore and Woodsboro High. Tara went with you at first, but you quickly got caught up in the chaos of the event, drinking with friends to drown your frustrations over the rivalry, leaving Tara to wander through the crowd alone.

Tara glanced around the room, feeling a bit out of place without you. It was her first real taste of a high school party, but somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. You were missing. Some were celebrating—laughing, dancing, and basking in the glory of their win over Blackmore—while others attended this party just for an excuse to get drunk, but Tara wasn’t feeling the same rush. That was when she noticed Amber standing off to the side, holding a drink and watching the crowd with a knowing smile.

Amber had been a wild card that night. No one expected her to show up, least of all Tara. But Amber’s reputation preceded her—everyone knew she was sharp, calculated, and, most importantly, she knew how to play the game. She wasn’t just there to celebrate; she was there to get ahead.

Tara’s initial impression of Amber was a mix of admiration and curiosity. Amber seemed to hold herself in a way that suggested she knew something no one else did. And that intrigued Tara, even if she couldn’t quite explain why.

As Tara wandered away from the chaotic center of the party, she ended up near Amber. The two of them started talking, mostly small talk at first—what they were doing after high school, the thrill of their victory, and the peculiar tension between Woodsboro and Blackmore. Tara found herself drawn to Amber’s cool confidence, the way she seemed to have everything under control.

But what started as a simple conversation slowly shifted into something deeper. Amber had a way of making Tara feel like she was the only one in the room, even when there were dozens of people around. Tara’s mind kept drifting back to the feeling Amber gave her: like maybe she could be something more, something beyond the quiet girl who never quite fit in.

And so, things began to unravel.

Tara never meant for it to go this far. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, just a casual connection. But somewhere along the way, Amber made it clear that she wasn’t just interested in Tara’s company—she had a plan, and Tara was a part of it. Tara hadn’t realized how deep Amber’s intentions went until it was already too late. Now, Tara was left to figure out how she’d let herself be pulled into something so complicated—something that, in hindsight, was far more than just a meeting between two people at a party.

Everything was bliss when Tara and Amber started dating. She was kind, gentle, and attentive—the kind of person who made Tara feel understood and like the most important person in the world. It felt like a dream. Amber would send her thoughtful texts, surprise her with little gifts, and always knew how to make her laugh. Tara felt safe, seen, and loved in a way she hadn’t before.

But as time went on, Amber’s true colors started to surface—slowly, almost imperceptibly at first.

It started with small criticisms. At first, they were disguised as concern, little comments about Tara’s appearance or habits that Amber claimed were meant to help her. "You know, if you ate healthier, maybe you wouldn't feel so tired all the time." Or, "I don’t think that outfit is really doing you any favors." Tara tried to brush it off, telling herself it was just Amber wanting her to be her best. But the comments grew sharper, more frequent.

"You always mess things up," Amber would say when Tara made a mistake, like forgetting to pick up groceries or missing a text. "Why can’t you ever get anything right?" Her tone wasn’t playful anymore. It was condescending, even cruel. Tara began to feel like she couldn’t do anything without Amber pointing out what she’d done wrong.

The verbal jabs escalated when Amber started to get possessive. At first, Tara thought it was just a sign of how much Amber cared. But Amber's jealousy started to feel suffocating. She'd ask Tara where she was going, who she was with, and why she didn’t tell her first. "You don't really need to hang out with them, do you?" Amber would ask, her voice dripping with insinuation. It would have been even worse if she had hung out with you. It was as if you were Amber's breaking point. "They don’t even care about you like I do." "I’m better than them; why are you still hanging out with them?"

Tara found herself apologizing constantly—for things she didn’t even understand; she would say sorry just to voice the tension. 

It was always the same cycle: Amber would get irritated for no reason, her voice would grow cold and sharp just to insult Tara. "You always do this; you always make everything more difficult than it has to be. Why can’t you just do things right?". The next day, Amber would be apologetic, trying to console Tara, making her forget everything that happened the day before. She said all the right things, but Tara couldn’t ignore the knot of anxiety that lingered in her chest. She had a way of twisting everything, making Tara feel like she was always in the wrong, walking on eggshells.

And soon, the emotional abuse turned into physical fights. One day, Tara had dinner plans with Mindy when Amber confronted her again, "You always do this," she snapped. "You always choose them over me." Her voice was cold, venomous.

Tara tried to explain, but Amber wasn’t hearing it. "You think you can just leave whenever you want? No, you’re not going anywhere." Before Tara could react, Amber grabbed her by the arm—tightly, her fingers digging into Tara’s skin. "You’re hurting me, Amber; let me go!" Tara shouted, trying to pull away, but her grip tightened. She twisted Tara’s arm painfully, forcing her to sit down.

Tara’s heart was racing. She didn’t recognize this version of Amber—this wasn’t the woman she had fallen in love with. The love they once shared felt like a distant memory, replaced with anger, control, and fear. Tara was terrified, but she didn’t know how to escape. Before the day ended, Tara made up an excuse to Mindy that she couldn’t make it. She thought about her friends. Chad, Mindy, You. How will she be able to explain herself? She’s embarrassed and ashamed of herself if she were to ever face either of you. 

There was once when Amber picked up Tara from school when she saw her talking to you, both of you giggling like lovestruck teenagers, like you were in love with each other. And Amber simply couldn’t have that. Once both of them got back to Amber’s house, she gripped Tara’s arm, demanding an explanation. "So you’re just whoring around your school with someone else? Especially them? You’re just a slut, aren’t you?" Amber seethed, her nails digging into Tara’s skin, leaving another mark on her skin. Tara stood there, tears streaming down her face, knowing no matter what she said, it would be dismissed, twisted, or ignored. "You’re mine, Tara. I’m not letting you go anywhere," were the last words she heard before being shoved down the stairs, undoubtedly leaving bruises all over her body. She knew the next day Amber would whisper apologies, giving her kisses and hugging her in an attempt to make her forget.

Tara began pulling away, distancing herself from you, from Chad, from Mindy, from Anika—everyone. It wasn’t that she didn’t care anymore, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Amber’s wrath falling on them, especially you. She couldn’t risk you getting hurt because of her, couldn’t risk Amber turning her anger on the people she loved. The more Tara tried to protect her friends, the more she isolated herself.

Every moment felt like a calculation; every text, every phone call, every plan made without Amber’s approval felt like a risk. Tara started to feel like a prisoner in her own life, like Amber was always there—watching, waiting for her to slip up, to make a mistake.

Amber had a way of making her feel like she was constantly under surveillance, always one misstep away from an explosion. Tara couldn’t shake the feeling that Amber was breathing down her neck, that every time she laughed too loudly with a friend or spent too much time away from her, Amber would find out. And when Amber found out, the consequences would be brutal. Tara had learned that the hard way.

It was like living in a constant state of fear. Tara’s heart would race whenever she saw a message from you or heard from one of her friends. She hated that it had come to this—that Amber’s control over her had stretched so far that she couldn’t even speak freely without worrying about the fallout.

But more than anything, she hated that the woman she loved, the woman she had trusted, had become someone she feared. Every day, she woke up wondering how much longer she could live like this. How much longer until Amber's control over her—and over everyone she cared about—was too much to bear?

Amber’s behavior spiraled even further. The emotional abuse had crossed into physical violence, and Tara was left unsure of where it would go next. Amber would apologize, beg for forgiveness, and then turn around and hurt her again. Tara began to feel like she was losing herself. She was afraid of what might happen if she tried to leave, afraid of what Amber might do. 

Though she would still post pictures of them together, of them being in a happy relationship for people to see online, the reality was far different. Behind the carefully staged photos, the smiles seemed forced, the laughter hollow. She knew the posts didn’t reflect the late-night arguments or the hidden marks on Tara’s body. Yet, there was comfort in the illusion, in maintaining a facade that everyone else admired. It was easier to keep up the pretense than to confront the discomfort of what was really happening—of the slow unraveling that no one could see. The attention, the validation from likes and comments, provided a temporary sense of relief, a distraction from the gnawing uncertainty she felt every time she looked at Amber when the camera was off. It became a blurred line for Tara to interpret what was the reality and the sick image she created of her and Amber online. 

But one thing was clear: this wasn’t love anymore. And Tara didn’t know how much longer she could stay in a relationship that was slowly suffocating her.

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

a/n: next update might be awhile bc exam season is coming up and im a chill girl that needs to rest so you'll probably hear from me in like 2-3 weeks :p

[muses-of-the-memory]

As Adira was defending herself from the vines that Hector was using to his advantage with the heart of Zhan Tiri's tree, Rapunzel uses her hair to grab the vines and slam them down. Meanwhile, Eugene, Lance, Hook Foot and Cassandra were all defending themselves while the vines started to grab Cassandra. "Cassandra!" Hook Foot shouted until he was grabbed himself. "Hook!" Eugene shouted as he and Lance went after him, but they were becoming subdued. "Eugene!" Rapunzel shouted before being knocked back by the vines, and watched her friends become subdued.

It seemed like they were doomed, but Rapunzel had an idea as she wrapped her long hair around the cocoon of vines underneath Hector, and Cassandra gasped realizing what she was doing. "Raps, wait. You can't do that incantation again." Cassandra said for her not to use the Hurt Incantation. "I don't have a choice, Cass." Rapunzel said out of reluctance. "Please, Raps. That spear can kill it. Let me try and grab it. Trust me" Cassandra pleaded trying to reach for the spear, but when Rapunzel looked up to see her boyfriend, Eugene crushed by the vine's grip. "Eugene... I have to do this." She spoke. Then, the princess's mind was made up. "No!" Cassandra shouted as Rapunzel closed her eyes and began to speak the Hurt Incantation.

"Whither and decay, end this destiny. Break these earthly chains, and set the spirit free." She spoke, making her hair and eyes black. She repeated the incantation, causing the glowing green vines to wither and decay, freeing Eugene and the others, but her friends from Corona were growing weak. "Rapunzel!" Eugene said weakly as Lance came to his best buddy's aid. "Lance, take the Lilies, Louisiana and Lucius, and go!" Rapunzel shouted and echoed for him and the others to leave. "But, Princess..." He spoke. "Now!" Rapunzel demanded as Lance and Eugene were leaving the Great Tree, as Cassandra approached. "I got this, Cass. Go!"

"You heard her. Let's go." Adira spoke to her lady-in-waiting to leave. "No. I'm not leaving her." Cassandra said to Adira as she had her duty to protect the princess. "Raps, please let go." Cassandra pleaded as Rapunzel continued the incantion, but the princess spoke to her friend. "I can't!" Rapunzel spoke. "What are you waiting for?" Cassandra spoke. "I can't control it." Rapunzel stated about the Hurt Incantation's power as the vines were withering around Hector. Cassandra had to do something. But when she touched Rapunzel's arm, she felt her own arm burn and screamed in pain, and Rapunzel stopped as she released her hair, and came to her friend's aid. "Cass, no!"

Continued from here

the next day in the kingdom of Corona, it was a typical normal day, until it ended when the stranger ran passed through the wanted poster that says 'Silent Striker'

"he went this way!" Stan shouted when he and Pete went after him, Mirage and Bella are being prepared to catch him too, the guard captain and the other guard got him surrounded

@muses-of-the-memory

[spotsandsocks]

Had to write this it’s been bothering me!!

Give me a moment 2.6k

Eddie’s ready to go to Texas, Buck's ready to say goodbye. Then the conversation takes a surprising turn and Buck finds out the whole truth about what happened with Kim on the day that changed everything for them all.

The boxes are all piled up, ready to go and Buck can hardly look at them. If he’s told himself that it’s for the best once then he’s said it a thousand times. 

Despite that it’s the deepest, darkest most secret wish of his heart that this wasn’t happening but it is and he’ll just have to deal with it. It’s for the best. It’s what Eddie needs to do. It’s what Chris needs too. He can visit, FaceTime, it won’t be the same, he’s not stupid but he can survive. Probably. 

At least the house is just being rented out for now. At least Eddie has given him that much to hold onto. The hope that they might actually come back one day. It’s not much but it’s  something.

“I wish…”

Buck turns his head to Eddie’s voice. It’s the first time he’s spoken in an hour. They’re both lying on the floor, the couch is already in storage along with the other things Eddie’s not taking with him to Texas. 

“I wish, I hadn’t walked past that shop, that I never saw her. I wish none of it had happened.”

Buck looks back up at the ceiling. Right, her; Kim - Shannon mark 2. The woman Eddie lost his mind and his kid for. 

The woman who looked enough like his dead wife that he threw everything away for one more one more time together.  

The woman that Chris found in his house. 

Her. Buck wishes that Eddie had never seen her too, which is probably unfair to Kim. None of this was her fault after all. She’d  seemed nice enough when he’d met her at the station, after the shock of seeing the spitting image of Eddie’s dead wife wore off of course.

The likeness was remarkable with just enough differences between them to know it wasn’t really her. They’ve never talked about this, looks like they are now.

“I didn’t tell you but I told her about Shannon, about why I wanted to spend time with her. I showed her pictures, I said I was sorry.  That it was wrong. She was upset but I stopped it. After you talked to me, I realised I was being…” the pause last a while, 

“You know, I still don’t know what I was being or what I really wanted from her.”

Lifting himself up off the floor to rest on one elbow Buck studies the profile of the calm, still face of his best friend. It’s the face of a man who’s resigned himself to his fate. Eddie’s flat on his back, eyes closed lying in the remnants of a life he’d tried to build for himself and his son. A life that collapsed around him after one or maybe two bad decisions.

“When she left I thought it was over. I was relieved, thought it would be ok but then she came back.” 

If Eddie was looking at him he’d see the frown land on Buck’s face at that brand new piece of information. What does Eddie mean she came back? 

Next to him, the calm facade falters and Eddie’s face crumples, his feelings escaping in the thin lines of distress. Buck knows it’s just a weak echo of the distress he must have felt that day, made smaller, quieter by Eddie’s rigid self control. 

“She came back Buck and she looked…” 

It sounds like a confession, Eddie’s breath shakes on the way out and Buck’s heart beats faster. There’s something bad coming. Something he doesn’t know about.

A voice that doesn’t really sound like Eddie at all continues slowly, each word forced out. 

“She looked.. just.. like… her. She’d …” 

Eyes squeezed shut Eddie’s hand waves vaguely around his head. 

“It was a shock, it hurt to look at her. I said no. I asked her to go, to stop because…  because I knew… I knew it was wrong,  before I always knew she wasn’t Shannon but when she came back and she looked, like that…”

The pained look deepens, Eddie eyes open, glassy and full of unshed tears. It makes Bucks chest ache. 

“It was her. It really was.”

Unsure what he’s hearing Buck just tells the truth. 

“Eddie I don't understand what you’re telling me.”

The laugh that leaves Eddie’s lips is painful to hear, broken and hurt. It slices at Buck’s chest. 

“Neither do I. She was an actress  but I don’t know how she did it. The hair yeah, she’d cut it, dyed it and the clothes she’d seen those in the photos.”

An uneasy feeling stirs in the pit of Buck's stomach. Eddie’s not said anything about this before. He’d assumed… he’d assumed something very different.

“But she was Shannon… it felt like  I was looking at her, that she was right there in front of me.”

Again for a second his face shows the truth, before it’s packed away like all his other belongings. 

“She looked just like her Buck and I wanted to know. I wanted to know so badly.”

Chest tight Buck asks a question, worried he already knows what’s coming.

“Eddie? What are you saying?”

There’s no direct answer but the truth is bleeding out into the room and it’s making Buck feel more than a little nauseous.

“She was trying to be kind. Trying to help me, to say goodbye. Ask the questions I didn’t have answers to. I told her no, I said go, but I  I wanted to know why.”

The voice telling the story breaking Buck's heart cracks. 

“She, she was as close as I could get to knowing why.”

Then in a moment Buck knows will haunt him, Eddie’s sad brown eyes open and find his. The hurt in them is breathtaking, sharp and raw and enough to make him check he hasn’t actually been punched in the chest. 

With a hand held just above his aching heart, he clutches at the fabric bunched beneath his fingers to stop him from reaching out to his friend. He feels helpless, there’s no way to change what’s already happened to Eddie, all Buck can do is listen and finally understand the truth of what he went through the day he let Christopher leave.

“I just wanted to know why. Why didn’t she love me, why didn’t I get a letter. Why did she want to leave me twice?”

Blinking back his own tears Buck understands that he’s made a mistake. A big one. And probably not just him. He’d thought that Eddie and Kim had… but no, he was wrong about that. That’s clear now, the tears rolling down Eddie’s face, silent and helpless tell a very different story. 

continue on Ao3

@actualalligator @bekkachaos @beyourownanchor6 @buddiediaz118 @becausebuckley @bi-buckrights @caroandcats @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @dr-shortsighted-owl @darkrose6578 @diazsdimples @doctorkinney @diazheartsbuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @fiona-fififi @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hermscat @hippolotamus @inell @jesuisici33 @lonelychicago @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @repressedqueen @ronordmann @rainbow-nerdss @spaceprincessem @stagefoureddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @shipperqueen6 @tizniz @thekristen999 @thelikesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @theotherbuckley @underwaterninja13 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @wildlife4life

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 8

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. This part does not contain texts! Start reading from the beginning: Part 1

The ride to her house was quiet.

Not the quiet that leaves you unsettled, no. It was the kind that fills the air with unspoken truths, with glances exchanged and withheld words that echoed louder than any sound could.

Their eyes met once, twice... more than that. Each time, his gaze lingered just a second longer than it should have. And hers? Hers did the same.

Simon pressed his hands together, squeezing them into fists so tight he could feel the strain in his knuckles. A faint tremor shot up his palm, almost like a jolt of electricity. His body betraying the control he worked so hard to keep.

Fucking nervous, aren’t you, Riley?

It shouldn’t be like this. None of it should be. He’d been here before, hadn’t he? A few women. A few beds. A few nights.

But why does this feel different?

Her. She was the difference.

There was something about her, something he couldn’t define, couldn’t pin down. Something that pulled him in and ripped apart every defense he’d built over decades. He couldn’t look at her too long without feeling that pull, couldn’t hear her laugh without that burn in his chest igniting again.

He let himself think, just for a second, about what came next. About what would happen when they stepped inside her house, when the air shifted from unspoken tension to something tangible, something raw.

Would she invite him in? Would she want him there? Want him the way he wanted her?

God, Riley, you’re acting like a fucking teenager.

But then, his thoughts veered into uncharted territory. Past the heat, past the urgency, to something softer. To the aftermath—their breaths slowing, the room cooling. To her lying beside him, her hair spilled out on the pillow, her hand reaching for his.

Would she ask him to stay?

Stay, Riley? You don’t stay.

But he wanted to. For the first time, the thought of leaving twisted something deep in his gut.

And then came the doubt, creeping in like it always did.

Was she really going to let him in? Did she really want him? A man like him—older, broken, scarred in ways she hadn’t even begun to see. Did she know what she was doing? Reaching out to someone like him?

Inadequate.

That’s what he was. A man inadequate to this. To her. To the way she made him feel.

But still, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it all.

The air was too sharp, biting against their skin as they stepped out of the Uber. It clung to them, sinking into the silence, as if the night itself held its breath.

She reached for her keys, fingers fumbling in a way that made her curse under her breath. He stood behind her, his boots scraping against the gravel.

When the car pulled away, the street swallowed them whole.

She stepped inside, the keys jingling in her hand as she flicked on the lights. Her heart was racing, an uncontrollable rhythm that almost drowned out the sound of her own voice.

And she left the door open.

Left it open for him.

"Aren’t you coming in?" Her voice carried through the space, louder than she intended, the kind of loud that tried to mask the nerves clawing at her chest.

The sound of her keys landing on the table followed, a small clatter against the quiet.

He stood there, unmoving, the cold air wrapping around him like a vice. Then, a step.

Another.

What the hell is happening to me?

His mind raced, a mess of contradictions and uncertainties. Why was he losing himself over this woman? This maddeningly young, unpredictable, vibrant woman? She was like nothing he should be tangled with—and yet here he was, walking into her space, letting her pull him in like a moth to a flame.

The smell hit him like a punch.

It wasn’t just her perfume or the faint traces of shampoo in her hair. It was her—her home. The clothes tossed carelessly on the couch. A coffee mug abandoned on the table, still half-full.

It was alive. Lived in. Hers.

She could feel his eyes on her. Heavy, focused, lingering on everything she did. The way she rushed to grab the coffee cup from the table and carried it to the kitchen. The way she shifted, half-heartedly trying to block his view of the pile of clothes on the couch with her body.

Her smile was awkward, forced, but fuck, it was endearing.

"So, uh, another cup? I have some wine. I mean, I like wine, not in an unhealthy way or anything, not like I drink every night. Well, okay, twice in front of you, but that’s not—"

"You get talkative when you’re drunk," he interrupted, his voice low, steady, like it always was. Then, softer, with the smallest hint of a smirk: "Or are you always this... bright?"

She froze, the word hanging in the air between them.

"Bright?" she echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Is that just a polite way of calling me loud?"

He stepped closer, just a little, his eyes unyielding, pulling hers into his orbit.

"No," he said, shaking his head lightly. "I don’t like loud. But I like you, so you’re not loud."

Her lips parted slightly, caught somewhere between a laugh and a breath she couldn’t quite take.

Oh, shit.

Hell.

Fuck.

Every curse word she could think of rattled in her mind, each one failing to capture the way her chest felt—full to the point of bursting. Like her heart was going to explode right there in front of him, leaving a ridiculous mess of butterflies and stupid little cartoon hearts scattered all over the room.

"Are you flirting with me just to escape that wine, huh?" she joked, her voice barely steady, a desperate attempt to lighten the air crackling between them.

And then he did it again. That thing he did.

His head tilted back just slightly, his eyes steady and sharp on hers, his lips pressing together before curling into that maddeningly subtle side-smile. Barely there, but enough to make her knees weak.

"Maybe not just for that."

Her brain short-circuited. Her heart stopped. Or sped up. Or maybe both. She couldn’t tell anymore.

"Second intentions now?" she managed, her voice climbing an octave as she fought to keep her composure.

Yes. That was good. Tease him. Keep the upper hand. Don’t you dare melt—

"Hm," he murmured, his voice deep, gravelly, dripping with that dangerous calm he carried so well. His gaze dropped, just for a second, to her lips. "And some more."

That was it.

That was the moment she died. Right there. Gone. End credits rolling. Goodbye.

Her breath caught in her throat, her body betraying her with a shiver she couldn’t suppress.

He saw it.

He felt it.

The way she melted right in front of him, her eyes wide and bright, her body leaning into the pull of him like gravity itself was shifting between them.

It did something to him.

No, she did something to him.

Something he couldn’t name, couldn’t control.

And for the first time in years—hell, maybe for the first time in his life—he let it happen.

His body surrendered, inch by inch, to the magnetic force pulling him toward her, and he didn’t care if it consumed him whole.

That little doubt from earlier—the lingering what’s next?—had died a long time ago.

It had evaporated the moment the wine settled in his system, the moment he became fully aware of how alone they were, how quiet the house was, how it was just him and her in this small, warm space.

It had died the moment he noticed her watching him like she was waiting for something. For him.

He took a step closer. Then another.

Her breathing quickened, and he saw it—the way she stilled, her body tense but not pulling back, her lips parting slightly as if the air between them had gotten too heavy.

She felt small. Like a little prey animal frozen under the shadow of a predator. Nervous, fidgety. But she wasn’t moving away.

"So you don’t want anything?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, cracking at the edges.

He tilted his head, studying her, letting the silence stretch just long enough for her to feel it crawl down her spine.

"I do," he said, his voice low, deliberate.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "... A drink, I mean."

And then—oh god—he chuckled.

An actual laugh left his lips, soft and deep, rumbling through the space between them.

"No, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her brain short-circuited.

AGAIN.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Wait. Wait. She wasn’t ready. No, maybe she was. No, she wasn’t. Or was she?

"I—uh—excuse me for a moment," she stammered, her words coming too fast, too messy. "I just need to go—"

To go where?

To check if she’d shaved? To look in the mirror and see if she looked okay? To remember what underwear she’d put on?

None of that mattered because she wasn’t going anywhere.

His tall, broad frame moved closer, closing the space between them until he was just inches away.

His eyes—god, his eyes—were locked on her with an intensity that made her stomach flip, her knees weak.

"Wait," she blurted, her voice a rushed mess. "Was this the wine? Is this why you ‘don’t handle it well’?"

His lips quirked into a small, almost amused smile.

"That’s one way to say it."

Her breath hitched. Her heart pounded against her ribs as his presence wrapped around her like a second skin.

She wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not when his entire body was leaning into hers, his heat, his scent, his everything pulling her under like a tide she didn’t want to escape.

Simon hadn't told her his age, not his story, not his intentions. Not even his last name.

He was a mystery, a locked box, and yet...

There was no rope to climb up here, no anchor to hold onto. There was just this. This big, electric, and intense thing that settled between them, threading through every stolen glance, every lingering moment of silence.

Waves of purple, waves of blue, crashing and coursing through her veins every time he stared at her. Every time his brows furrowed in thought, every time his lips made the slightest movement, like he was holding back a secret he refused to share.

And then, there it was again. Intense.

When his hand reached for hers, it wasn't what she'd expected. A man like him—so big, so strong, so stoic—shouldn’t have been capable of touching her like that.

Gentle. Purposeful.

His fingers curled around hers, and for a moment, the world stopped spinning.

She didn’t even realize she’d been holding her breath until he looked down, where their hands met, like he couldn’t believe what he was doing either.

And yet, it didn’t feel like he wanted to pull away.

It hit her then—hard. That little (no, enormous) feeling in her chest, something stirring in the hollow point she hadn’t even realized existed.

It wasn’t his eyes or his lips or his body leaning closer that made her feel like she was coming undone.

It was this. Him holding her hand.

It was intense in a way sex wasn’t supposed to be. Intimate in a way it shouldn’t have been for someone who, she thought, just wanted a physical moment.

But it wasn’t just physical, was it?

It was something else. Something raw, unspoken, and terrifying. Something that made the hollow ache in her chest feel full for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Are you going to kiss me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling at the edges like a fragile thread.

Her eyes—wide, searching—locked onto his, meeting brown, the heat of her stare refusing to back down, though it screamed vulnerability.

Are you, Riley?

Want to kiss the girl, do you?

Want to feel her lips, want to know she wants it, too?

No.

No, that wasn’t it.

He didn’t just want to kiss her.

It was awful, this craving, this ache, this yearn that clawed at him from the inside. This primal need for more, for something deeper, something that wasn’t fleeting or shallow.

It wasn’t just her lips he wanted to taste.

It was her. All of her.

And not just tonight. Not just in the haze of wine and electric stares. No, this was worse than that.

It was the want for the start of something. For safety in her presence, for the kind of silence that wasn’t suffocating but soothing. For the comfort of knowing she was there, even in the quiet moments.

For a future.

The word alone twisted in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar.

His gaze traced her in silence, betraying him as it lingered on the curve of her smile, the slope of her shoulders, the tremble in her fingers as they hovered near her sides.

Her eyes. Her legs.

Her laugh, her touch, her very existence.

Everything about her was a piece of something bigger, something to pick apart, to examine, to memorize.

And it crushed him.

That want, that need, set a weight on his chest so deep, so dark, it made it hard to breathe.

So fucking terrifying.

Her question lingered in the air between them, but all he could do was look at her like she was something precious he couldn’t risk breaking.

"Simon?" she whispered, tilting her head just enough to pull him from his thoughts.

He blinked, his jaw tightening as he inhaled sharply, the weight pressing deeper.

His voice came out low, rough.

"I don’t think I can stop at just a kiss."

The start of something.

This was it.

She knew it.

Even if he tore her heart into a thousand jagged, unrecognizable pieces, she knew. She wouldn’t be able to forget the rasp in his voice, the distinct smell of his truck—a sharp mix of faint cigars and worn-in cologne. She wouldn’t stop turning her head every time she saw another man in a hoodie, a cap, or a face mask, hoping, wishing, aching for it to be him.

Simon Riley had intoxicated her life, his presence laced with something she couldn’t purge, no matter how hard she tried.

It wasn’t romantic; it was corrosive.

And God, she wanted more.

"Why would you even think about stopping?" she whispered, voice barely holding steady as her gaze dropped to their still-entwined hands.

His thumb moved in slow circles against her skin.

How could a man whose hands had likely done unspeakable things—taken lives, committed horrors she couldn’t begin to comprehend—touch her so gently?

"Few things come to mind," he muttered, his tone gruff, guarded, but his touch never faltered.

"But you're not telling me," she teased, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Fuck.

Fuuuck, Riley.

He didn’t know what to do with that smile. It was dangerous. It unraveled him, stripped him bare.

When she laughed. When she smiled. When she breathed.

When she looked at him with those eyes, wide and filled with something fragile and trusting that he didn’t fucking deserve.

"It’d be easier to disappear," he admitted softly, his voice dropping lower. The words weren’t meant for her ears, but they slipped out anyway, betraying him.

Her head tilted slightly, her brow furrowing as if to question him, but he stopped her with his next words.

"I’m not tellin’ you anything that might push ya away."

Because he felt it.

The sinking ship they were on. He felt every creak and groan, every crack in the hull as they both willingly dragged it underwater.

And the worst part?

She didn’t.

She hadn’t noticed the weight pulling them down. Not yet.

But he had. And instead of running, instead of diving overboard, he stayed.

Because he was no good. He’d never been any good.

And he wasn’t starting now.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but I really wanted to post a new chapter heh. Whatever, I’m being exploited at work (kidding… well, maybe not… help).

TAG LIST: @sleep101 @all-by-myself98 @h0ney-mushroom @beelzebee @momowhoo @sheepdogchick3

[revelboo]

I've never been so sucked into a Megatron fic as I have been by your Broken Arrow series. I'm really interested to see if y/n will break and how Megatron would handle it if they did! It's very exciting!

I do love playing with tension. 18+ mass displaced mech 🌶️

Broken Arrow Pt 12

TFP Megatron x Reader

• “Don’t,” you growl the word at him, shoving at his arm as he drags you back into him so he can curl around your much smaller form. Hating that you don’t hate this contact. Especially as he slowly wraps the length of your leash around his palm and vents against the back of your neck. Knowing you’re not getting away from him until he lets you and trying not to think about what you’d done with him or that you’d enjoyed it. Because nothing about this should be okay to you, but there’s still that part of you that had actually been scared for him when he’d been injured. That had warmed at his teasing and taunts despite yourself. That knew he could have hurt you so many times, but no matter what he says, those sharp claws are always so gentle like he’s afraid of breaking you. Despite biting you.

• Finally, you relax against him, your back to his front. Giving up after realizing he’s not letting go. Maybe biding your time hoping he’ll slip into recharge and turn you loose. Still not realizing that he’s never letting you go now. “We don’t need to be enemies,” he murmurs, servos sliding down over your hip and you grab his wrist when he slides lower to cup you. “As lovely as your anger is, I like the way you look out of control, too.” Stroking you, he feels your fingers tighten on him, but not even trying to pull his hand away. Enjoying his touch no matter how you balk at it, as you rock yourself against his palm. Wanting to hate him, but you can’t, can you?

• Those sharp denta brush the shell of your ear, nip at the lobe and those awful servos keep playing with you, lazily exploring. And when you shift against him more on your hip and lift your thigh, he immediately tunnels a servo inside you, mindful of those claws. Out of control? He has no idea. You’re still clinging to his wrist as he slowly fucks you with that servo, pressing your head back against him as you go taut. Hating when you begin rocking your hips against his hand, needing more friction and he chuckles against your hair. He’s still got your leash and you can feel that breathless pull that he’s bound you with when he’d forced your fingers into contact with his spark. But if he has your leash, you have his, too. He’s growling against you, servos petting as you slicken for him. You can feel his spike against your butt, pulsing and hot as a brand. As affected as you are. “More,” you whimper, straining against his hand and swearing when he pulls it away in response. Denying you. Teasing.

• Laughing at your frustration, he shifts your thigh up enough that he can find you and bury himself inside you, groaning against your neck at how tight you are like this, listening to your breathy little noise of pleasure. Feeling you grip his spike. “Patience,” he growls, lips brushing your cheek. “Isn’t this better than fighting me every step of the way?” Moving deliberately to rock himself slowly against you and stroking deep. Palm sliding up to rest against your chest, against the frantic beat of your heart.

• This is a new form of torture, thrusting almost lazily against you in no real hurry when you just want to reach that peak again. But his words twist through you, because you could submit and enjoy this. Enjoy him. Because even if he grumbles about it, he listens to you, seems to care about your opinion. Would it be so bad to surrender and sit by his side? Spend your nights in his berth and your days pulling at his leash, trying to curb his worst impulses? “Make me,” you whisper and his servos tighten on you as he snarls.

• Stubborn brat. Rolling you partially under him, he begins to move faster against you, driving deep again and again. Because that rebelliousness unravels his control. Make you? Those little noises of need you make spurring him on as he ruts against you. “You’re mine.” If it takes all night, he’s going to get that through your head. You come undone against him, crying out his name as you fist his spike in wet, silken heat. And he keeps moving against you until he’s sheathing himself deep to release inside you. Hips rocking to drag it out for both of you. “Say it.”

Previous

[nakylvr]

first time giving loser/nerdy megan head?

well yes!

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned), dom!reader, sub!megan, oral, begging

when you invited your girlfriend over for a movie night, one you tried to plan every few weeks, neither of you imagined you'd end up in this position. the movie is still playing quietly in the background as you lay between megan's legs, your hands secured on her thighs drawing small circles into her bare skin.

"you sure about this?" you ask for the third time in five minutes.

"yes," megan nods, answering the same as the previous two times you asked. "please,"

"okay," you nod. "i'll go slow, you just tell me if you want me to stop or anything you want, okay?" you tell her, pressing a soft kiss on her thigh.

megan nods her head again, feeling reassured by your words and the warm smile you give her. you slowly trail little kisses up her thigh. you stop once you reach her center, your eyes peering up at her to see any sign of her changing her mind. you can't seem to find any sense of her backing out, so you slowly stick your tongue out and lick a long strip up her core.

megan's body jolts at the feeling, which you hold her hips down to keep her from moving too much. you do it again, slower this time as you moan against her at the taste. megan's hand reaches for your head, her fingers tangling in your hair. her breathing is already getting heavier, and you've hardly done anything yet. smiling, you send a wink up at her before taking her clit into your mouth, sucking on it lightly and flicking it with your tongue.

"oh my god!" she gasps, pulling on your hair lightly. her eyes are squeezed shut while she tries to roll her hips, but your hold on her tightens so she can't. "yn, please," her voice is whiny as you continue your slow motions. she already feels overwhelmed just by your mouth slowly working on her clit, never feeling anything like it before. but then again, she hadn't felt a lot of things until she met you.

you continue to play with her clit with your tongue, swirling around it and sucking on it before removing yourself from it. "you're s' pretty, baby. you taste even better," you say in a low voice, your eyes staring up at her watching every sound fall from her mouth as her body trembles. you lower your mouth again, licking up her juices that were dripping onto the sheets. your tongue teases her entrance, circling around it before pushing inside.

"fuck!" megan's back arches as she feels your tongue invade her walls, tugging on your hair in a tight grip. "oh my– oh my god," she whines loudly when you start thrusting your tongue inside her. she can't control the noises coming out of her mouth as she moans your name over and over again. feeling the knot in her stomach tightening, she pushes your head against her, rolling her hips as you give in and let her do what she wanted. "'m so close– shit, 'm gonna cum oh my god!"

speeding up your movements, your nose bumps against her clit as she pushes you closer, moaning into her while she practically grinds on your face. your hands trail up her body under her shirt, grabbing and pinching her nipples which has her whining. you can feel her walls contract and clench around your tongue, knowing she's about to cum. you bring one of your hands back down to her clit and start rubbing fast circles along it.

a long, loud whiny moan escapes from megan's throat the second you start rubbing her clit, her body shaking as she cums. her hand pulls on your hair tightly as you lick up every drop of cum that leaks out from her, a whimper coming from her when you slowly remove yourself.

kissing her thighs, you move up to her face, wiping away the few tears that fell from her eyes. "you did so good for me, baby," you say softly. "are you okay?"

"mhm," is all megan can get out with a nod, looking up at you. her arms wrap around your neck and pull you close against her, kissing your cheek. "i love you," she mumbles.

"i love you too," you smile.