#why fight over a dude when you have each other
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lildudie18 · 1 year ago
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🐞 lesbians 🐞
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🐞 long rant if you wanna read 👇 🐞
🐞 Just to be clear 🐞
1) orihime x ulquiorra
2) orihime x ishida
3) orihime x rukia
4) orihime x chad
5) orihime x tatsuki
99999999999) orihime x ichigo
🐞 see how low that is? yes it is bc she had better chemistry with all of the above than she could ever have had with ichigo. wanting to kiss him in his sleep my ass. how is in every life I'd love the same dude romantic. MARINETTE never gave me half the second hand embarrassment orihime did but to be fair she did want to kiss Adriens statue which was hard to watch but at least it lasted less 🙏🐞
🐞 don't get me wrong I like orihime (to an extend) I mean she was interesting when her brother trauma shit was unfolded but then she just Idk became somewhat boring afterwards like she's not by any means useless, but she's HELPLESS most of the goddamn time bro even Aizen recognized the fire dope ass power she got but like she never really utilized it well until like idk the END OF THE SERIES?? oh n let's not talk ab how shes basically fanservice now lmao 🐞
🐞 imo ichigo didn't deserve either rukia or orihime lmaooooooo THEY ARE FOR THE GIRLIES 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥💯💯 he should've gone with Tatsuki (or jus be gay w grimmjow 🙏) if you may like I'm a sucker for childhood friends (do I even need to elaborate) but these didn't even talk other than for like 5 eps so I was kinda bummed but we aight 🐞
🐞 bleach is cool n all but I fr hated that 2/3 of the series were spent saving rukia n then orihime ain't that spectacular! but fire series either way I mean I totally get mfs hatred over ichihime endgame but me personally? I don't fucking care LMAOAOAO ichihimes n ichirikas constantly fighting?? who said married characters with kids can't be shipped with other people?? ever heard of the jojo fandom?? ahahahaaaa 🐞
🐞 tho like kubo said or according to those translated stuff I saw ichihime mfs pull up all the time this is how his series is n if you don't like it make a better one so yeah I'm not mad I'm just Idk disappointed a bit like so many things other than ships feel wasted like ichigos numerous powerups n forms bro I miss them the fact that the dope ass outfits didn't last!! it's exactly like jojos all over again!! 😔😔😔 🐞
🐞 anyways if you read that far comment with a strawberry. see yall 🐞
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dutybcrne · 1 year ago
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Okok but
Sigewinne & Wriothesley, but enemies to friends arc in their first meeting
#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//Wrios getting peeved at her hunting him down every time he gets hurt bc he assumed the treatment would cost him coupons he doesn’t ha#//Why would she even CARE abt him; clearly there’s a hidden agenda goin on for her to be so determined. & he will NOT be indebted to her#//Sigewinne gettin real sick a’ this dude thinking he can handle himself just fine; it’s her fucken JOB to heal people goddammit#//How DARE he not take care of himself; the LEAST he could do is that much & REST a bit instead of PUSHING himself the way he does#//Then just spy-vs-spy each other for some time before she finall explodes & gives him a thorough yelling abt how worried he makes her#//And how much she’d hate to see him render himself completely unable to work bc he keeps pushing his muscles and body to unhealthy limits#//All for what? Not wanting to get treated? WHY. WHY WOULD HE DO THAT TO HIMSELF? GUILT?? PROTEST??? WHY?!#//And it’s THEN that it hits him; mildly spooked by the fact that a melusine CAN lose their chill; that she genuinely wanted to help#//Not to get him in her debt; but bc that’s just who she IS#//She would sneak him so many free meals while in the infirmary. She does already to those who get there; but his are always the best one#//She's gotta help him keep his strength up; after all. Esp if he tries making credit coupons via fights#//Absolutely helps get tips for him by innocently asking the fighters & playing their egos in pretending to be a Big Fan & bribing#//Prolly accidentally taught Wrios a whole slew a new swears bc one does not work in a prison without picking up a few things#//Then damn near cried when she heard him say them later bc WHO TAUGHT YOU SUCH THINGS (she forgor)#//She prolly also gave him some of her own credit coupons since he mentioned why he avoided the infirmary; having offered to keep his safe#in her office so no one not even the guards can steal them; esp if being punished bc he's acted out any time recently. Eventually convincin#//Takes advantage of that by sneaking more into his stash; making sure it's enough to keep tiding him over; but not TOO much it's obvious#//The Instant Wrios mentioned taking out the head of the prison bc of how cruelly he ran things; she deffo agreed to help without hesitatio#//Bc it was smth HE wanted & bc she too felt the guy needed to be taken tf out ASAP#//Bonus if she'd made a previous passing mention of wanting to & Wrios decided to make it a reality bc She wanted it first#//As a thanks for taking care of him all those years#//Shit; this got too long kjsbdg#//Might as well make it a fic#//Anywho; creative bones are working again; I see#//Idk; this was born out of me thinking how they became such good friends over the years; I can't imagine it was any easy esp on Wrios' sid#//So I will try to drafts#//If not; I will pop into inboxes with fresh ideas#//Or keep an eye out for opens on the dash
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algae-tm · 5 months ago
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MATCH MY FREAK
Max Verstappen x Heiress! reader
You have a reputation for being high maintenance, Max thinks you’re perfect (oneshot)
Author’s Note: if you can’t tell I have major writers block on my kill bill series… this is why you plan folks! I’ve kinda written myself into a corner. However, I love doing these lil oneshots so here’s another :)
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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MESSAGES
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yourusername just posted on instagram
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liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, and 5,234,432 others
yourusername : mom, i am a rich man
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user1 : a rich man yet all your exes say you bleed them dry
— user3 : at that point it’s a skill issue… if they knew they couldn’t keep up they shouldn’t have started dating her
— user1 : you females will defend each other no matter how in the wrong you are. — user3 : not fighting with a dude who calls women females
—user1 : lmao cause you know you’re wrong
user5 : I think oomf on twitter was right, she likes lavish things so she buys them and the men in her life are threatened.
— maxverstappen1 : couldn’t be me I’m very secure in my masculinity!
— user5 : MAX VERSTAPPEN!!!!??????
— user6 : what is bro doing here
— user8 : y/n’s freshly single and brother decides to shoot his shot lmao 🤣🤣
— user1 : brother run away whilst you can she’ll only drain your energy and your bank account.
— maxverstappen1 : me and my bank account can handle it
carlossainz55 : bro @maxverstappen1 thank you for lending me that 5 million euros after I lost my job! — maxverstappen1 : the least I can do brother!
landonorris : Max Verstappen let me win the Miami gp! — maxverstappen1 : No bro it was all you!
georgerussell63 : hey dude @maxverstappen1 when do you want me to return that lambo you lent me?
— maxverstappen1 : of course you can just keep it!
charles_leclerc : max verstappen saved my mother and my dog from my burning yacht, then gave me his spare yacht cause he felt bad!
— maxverstappen1 : no worries say hi to pascale and Leo for me!
danielricciardo : Max Verstappen is the most passionate lover I’ve ever had!
— maxverstappen1 : bro what? — maxverstappen1 : this is not true!
— user6 : lmao Dan I don’t think you did this correctly…
—danielricciardo : I only speak the truth 🤭
maxverstappen1: oh what a coincidence I am also a rich man, we should talk about our similarities over dinner
lewishamilton : catch flights not feelings
— yourusername : so right lew 🖤
MESSAGES
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TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
yourusername just posted
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liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and 4,324,367 others
yourusername : is somebody gonna match my freak?
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user23 : isn’t the saying like luxury whispers or something?
— yourusername : why should I whisper? My people deserve to be luxurious loudly!
lewishamilton : I actually have the perfect person to ‘match your freak’ he’s equally as weird as you
— yourusername : 🤨🤨🤨 I’m all ears
— maxverstappen1 : me me me!! He’s talking about me
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A YEAR LATER • INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1 just posted
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 8,234,432 others
maxverstappen1 : I MATCHED HER FREAK!!
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yourusername : yeah you did baby!!
danielricciardo : that should be me 😔😔
— yourusername : stop trying to steal my man!
— danielricciardo : he was mine first!!
— user42 : this dynamic is everything
user44 : max actually bagged a baddie??
— user56 : they’re gunna divorce in like 2 years once he realises she’s too high maintenance…
— maxverstappen1 : NUH UH
lewishamilton : for the role I played any children you have should be named Lewis…
— maxverstappen1 : you extorted me!
— lewishamilton : I helped you get the girl!
— yourusername : yeah max, was I not worth the extortion??
— maxverstappen1 : what no, of course you were! I’d be extorted 1 million times for you!
— user65 : wow they really do match each others freak…
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
TAGLIST
@forevercaffeinated-lee
@callsignwidow
@a-beaverhausen
@emryb
@c0deincrazy
@dontworryaboutitokie
@c-losur3
@chuxk-lerclerk
@silkenthusiasts
@ietss
@sp1rl
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captainreecejames · 5 months ago
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So Long, London || My Ex is a Footballer MV1
[masterlist][my ex series masterlist][written version]
summary sometimes your childhood sweatheart doens't work out, and that leads you to your true love.
pairings ex!ben chilwell x reader, max verstappen x reader faceclaim danielle campbell
warnings cursing, j*s mentioned, some hate
notes I love this so much I hope you guys like it too. Also this is now going to get a written version because I need to write the angst of ben x reader and how we got to max x reader
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ynusername posted ------
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liked by maxverstappen1 benchilwell and others
ynusername thank you to redbullracing for having me in the garage! always love visiting the paddock
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redbullracing we loved having you for the weekend! stop by soon
username1 what did you get maxplained about? ↳ ynusername huh? ↳ username1 it's when max traps people into conversations cause he can't stop explaining stuff to them ↳ ynusername ooohh lol I just asked him about sim racing ↳ username1 NOO girl got roped into simracing
username2 Ben in the likes 😭😭😭
username3 benjamin come get your girl!! She's being rizzed up by a vroom vroom man
redbullracing send us those pictures you took of max on the podium 🙏 ↳ ynusername I gotchu!
maxverstappen1 loved having you! ↳ schecoperez yes yn! Visit again soon 👍 ↳ ynusername if you two insist ☺️
scuderiaferrari stop by our garage again, we have the good gelato ↳ ynusername don't threaten me with a good time
username4 yn tifosi real? ↳ ynusername well I can't argue with the goat Sebastian vettel so 🤷‍♀️ ↳ redbullracing yeah but we had him first
mercedesamgf1 yn we have another goat if you want to hang out with us ↳ username5 yn really has f1 admins fighting over her in the comment section
chelseafc don't forget your first love yn ↳ leicestercity she won't. we love and miss you yn 💙 ↳ username5 no now she has football team admins here 😭
max's whatsapp messages -------
max emilian charles, is alex going to the jeddah gp?
charles perceval dude, he's driving
max emilian you know that's not what i meant
charles perceval ooooohhh yes, she's going
max emilian cool can we introduce her to yn
charles perceval is yn making her debut as a wag
max emilian you know i hate that word
charles perceval oop yeah, we can introduce them
max emilian thanks
twitter --------
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ynusername posted -----
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liked by charles_leclerc, schecoperez and others
ynusername not how I expected our relationship to be revealed but okay here goes nothing, everyone meet my boyfriend max
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username6 charles is not beating the lestappen allegations, why did he like this so fast? ↳ username3 especially on post just of max
username7 why yn making max kinda...? ↳ username8 i was not a max girlie but now I see it
username9 how am I f1 girlie now?? yn you've bewitched me ↳ username10 the vampire diaries to f1 pipeline ↳ username9 don't forget the pit stop at chelsea fc
username11 yn is making me a fan of sports by dating these men, stop that
redbullracing new max verstappen fan account?? ❤️ by ynusername
scuderiaferrari I guess we won't get you in the garage anytime soon? ↳ ynusername can I still get some good gelato? ↳ scuderiaferrari we guess ↳ ynusername ❤️
maxverstappen1 schatje 😒 ↳ ynusername love you babe 💙❤️
username12 yn... you were supposed to get him away from the skinny jeans, not wear them as well ↳ ynusername oops! 😅
username14 clocking in to start my shift as yn's biggest defender
username13 moving on real fast ↳ username14 I know you're not saying that 18 months is fast
username15 homie hopper ↳ username14 bitch? max and ben aren't friends, they barely even know each other
carlossainzjr no mention for the race winner? ↳ landonorris or me? ↳ ynusername i mean, congrats? 😅
twitter-------
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ynusername posted-----
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liked by landonorris, masonmount and others
ynusername congrats charles on the Monaco win, but we come back in Canada 💪🏼
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maxverstappen1 why those pictures? ↳ ynusername cause you're my cutie pie
charles_leclerc thank you yn! see you in montreal
username21 yn feeding us max girls with the boyfriend content
masonmount missed you yn! save me a ticket at silverstone ↳ ynusername ill see what i can swing mase 😂
username22 did you see what ben said about you? ↳ username23 girl she literally talked to him, of course she knows what he said
username26 not ben and max fighting over our girl yn ↳ username14 they're not fighting, max already won
username30 cause of death? that last slide
benchilwell tough race for red bull, but good to see you yn! ↳ ynusername thanks ben ↳ username26 she used to call him benny or chilly or b, never ben 😭😭 ↳ username14 tough shit, she's with max now
username27 the difference between her comment to mason and to ben, bring our family back together please
username28 congratulates charles on the win but not carlos in australia, she really is part of the lecfosi ↳ ynusername I've versed myself in the fan terms since mexico, sorry to disappoint but I'm just happy for the hometown hero ↳ charles_leclerc I'm not sneaking you anymore gelato ↳ ynusername booooo 👎🏻👎🏻
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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.
Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.
And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:
Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.
Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.
Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.
Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…
~~~~~
Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.
~~~~
Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…
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no-144444 · 2 months ago
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family fights- o.piastri
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summary: you and oscar were never meant to be together, lando made that clear. one night changes everything, then another changes it again.
pairing: oscar piastr x fem! norris! reader
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He’d done it again. Another win. Oscar Piastri was a two-time GP winner. 
And no one could ever take this one away from him. 
Over the past few weekends, he’d been pretty down about everything. Hungary, the whole ‘papaya rules’ bullshit, and how everyone had something to say about Monza. He’s a fucking racecar driver, and he wasn’t a second driver. It’s in his goddamn contract, thanks to Mark. And anyways, why would he pull over and let Lando take points from him, when he’s so close to P3 in the Driver’s standings? Charles is slowly but surely trying to build a gap, and Oscar is not planning on making it easy for him. It’s his second fucking season of F1, and he’s matching his teammate. Is that not something to be proud of? 
Apparently not in Lando’s fan girls’ eyes. It’s pathetic really, the memes were funny a while ago, and now it’s all getting to be too much. 
And then there’s you. Lando’s sweet little sister who loved Oscar more than life itself. You’d gotten him through the lows of the past few weeks, with just a smile his way.
But Lando wouldn't let you two be together. It was a ‘betrayal’, in his mind. 
It was bullshit. Lando liked having something over him, and you were the ‘thing’ in this scenario. You’d liked Oscar for ages, and you started in secret, too scared to tell Lando. You continued like that for a whole year, somehow hiding it seamlessly. It was the best relationship either of you had ever been in. You matched each other perfectly, and you got to see him everyday, since Lando had brought you on as his physio. Stolen kisses behind closed doors was a-ok with you two, until Lando had to walk into something he wasn’t supposed to. It was your anniversary night and yes, maybe you should’ve checked that the door was properly locked, but when he was kissing you like that? Who would be able to find it in themselves to care? For some reason, Lando walked into your apartment, ready to tell you off for not locking your door, and he found you and Oscar asleep in your bed, 1 year anniversary cards on the counter, and a bottle of wine beside the sink. On the drying rack there were 2 clean plates, two sets of cutlery, two glasses, one bowl, and two spoons. He was so angry. He just stormed in and started screaming at the two of you, telling you that you’d betrayed him for a whole year, making accusations left and right, and generally just ruining your perfect night. 
Then he gave the both of you an ultimatum. Date and lose him as a brother and a friend, or break up and he’d never speak about it again. You two could be friends, but always at a healthy distance. 
It took you both a week to make the decision. You were both crying when you called him to tell him you’d broken up. His response? Good. 
He barely talked to either of you for a month, and you truly feared the worst for your relationship with him. But, in true Lando fashion, one day he just started to be normal again, and everything was ok. 
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Oscar still remembered the way you looked when he'd made the choice to go behind Lando's back. You were wearing your favourite dress, you hair styled perfectly, your nails done, your makeup done, everything. It was for some boring gala that Oscar didn't want to sit through, and neither did you. Though nevertheless you went as the dutiful sister you were and made polite conversation with the gross old dudes who wouldn't leave you alone, and Oscar (he hoped he wasn't grouped in with them).
"Do you want to get some air?" he offered as you finished up a conversation with Christian Horner.
"I'd love to," you nodded, somehow keeping the soft smile on your face.
You burst out of the hall laughing, having run away from Lando. You got on well with Oscar. He was lovely, honestly. "He's going to kill us," you laughed, grabbing ahold of his shoulder to steady yourself.
"Worth it," he smirked.
You two spent some time outside, eventually ending up outside in the cold French air. You two somehow ended up intertwined on a bench outside the venue.
"I really enjoyed sneaking off with you," you beamed at him.
"I really enjoyed it too," he blushed. "We should do it again some time."
You laughed. "I think Lando will kill us if we pull that again-"
You stopped talking because he'd started kissing you, and you didn't want him to stop.
"I like you," he pulled back. "A lot."
It was so juvenile you almost laughed. Yet, you found yourself answering with; "I like you too."
And thus began your year-long love.
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To be honest, Oscar hated clubs. He hated the sweaty air, the suffocating closeness of everyone, and the heavy drinking. Oscar didn’t drink much, mainly a glass of wine with dinner every now and then, or a celebration drink when there was something to celebrate. He wasn’t a huge fan of feeling out of control.
Despite all of that, he’d somehow been convinced by Lando to go ‘out on the town’. He didn’t want to go out on the town. He wanted to stay home, or bump into you in the cinema near your shared apartment building. You two had been doing that a lot lately, bumping into each other there. You’d sit together, or a few chairs apart, but it’d feel a bit like before you’d broken up. It felt good.
You missed him dearly, as he did you. He knew you were going to see a special midnight showing of Psycho, yet he couldn’t even go because Lando dragged him out. 
“Mate!” Lando shouted from the other side of the VIP booth. 
“What?” Oscar asked, walking up to him. 
“I have someone I want you to meet,” Lando, being the prick he is, signalled to a girl in the middle of the dance floor that looked nothing like you. “Look, she’s nothing like Y/n! It’s perfect!” 
Oscar felt his blood boil, and finally spill over. “Fuck off Lando. That’s not fair-”
“What’s not fair was the fact that you dated my little sister behind my back!” He shot back. 
Oscar grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him out of the club, into the humid Monaco air. This back alley was usually used for a smoke break, but tonight it would be used as a fucking ring. 
“I’m not expecting you to understand anything I'm going to say, but fuck you Lando. I loved Y/n- I love Y/n, and you took that all away from me because of what?! You felt betrayed? You felt bad? It was overwhelming? We’ve proven that we’re not awkward if we break up, we’re actually ridiculously civil, all for your sake! You’re the one being unfair here. Yes, maybe we should’ve told you earlier. Yes, maybe it was wrong to keep it from you, but for fuck’s sake man! She’s your little sister, I’m your friend, it’s not like you don’t know us! I’d never do anything to hurt her, and she’d never use me, or whatever bullshit excuse you gave me. Now, I know you don’t fucking understand this, but I love her. More than anything in the entire fucking world. More than racing, more than anything. She’s what gets me through the shitty days and even shittier races. Knowing that, once I get out of the car, she’ll be standing there with a smile, or a hug on the occasions where you don’t watch us like a fucking hawk, makes it all fucking worth it for me. You took that away from me, and you took it away from her. It ate at her the entire year we were together that she couldn’t tell you, because well, of course it would! You are her older brother, her best friend. She should’ve been able to tell you about her boyfriend. She questioned herself after every day we spent together, every date we went on, about whether or not what we were doing was right. She felt so guilty. I felt so guilty. But at the end of the day when I saw her waiting for me in my driver’s room, or my apartment, or at the foot of the podium, I knew that what I felt was right. And it wasn’t just me feeling it Lan, she loved me back,” he sniffled, trying to hold back tears. “So no, I don’t want to meet someone at a club, I want Y/n. My Y/n. And I don’t give a fuck if you’re upset by that, because I’ve given you every reason to trust me Lando, and I promise you, I’ll never try to hurt her. I’ll keep her safe, and above all, I’ll love her.” 
Lando was taken aback. He was a lot more sober now. He’d never seen Oscar show so much emotion. He’d never seen Oscar show much emotion, point blank. Yet here he was, standing in front of him, crying over his little sister. “Mate, what do you mean?”
“I means you’re a fucking asshole Lando, and I don’t give a shit if you don’t want me to date Y/n. It means I’m going to ask her out again, and if she says yes I won’t stop just because you’re a dickhead who can’t stomach the fact that she loves me, and I love her.” 
Lando was again, taken aback. He’d never really had a reason as to why he didn’t like you and Oscar dating, it just felt… weird to him. Then, with about a moment's worth of self-reflection, he realised. He didn’t want to be second to Oscar. All his life, you’d been his biggest supporter, you two were always together, always there for each other, always his little sister. From cradle, to karting, coffin, he thought he’d be the only driver you supported and cared about. Then, in came Oscar, being everything he wanted to be; cool, calm, collected, talented, unprideful, gracious, and kind. Everything he worked to be. It had taken Lando 6 years to get a win, Oscar did it in his first year. It took Lando 2 years to get a podium, Oscar did it in his debut season.  “Well it’s just not right,” Lando shot back. “She’s my little sister, and I’m not being second to you with her! That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to choose you over me!” 
“She chose you! She broke up with me because you asked her to! I don’t know what the fuck you think is going to happen if we start dating again, but it’s not like we’ll just abandon you Lando! She’s your sister, and she loves you more than life itself! For fuck’s sake, if this was all about being scared that she’d pick me over you, we could’ve sorted this out weeks ago!” 
“I have to be second place to a fucking rookie! Do you know how that feels? Bad, Oscar, it feels bad. And now you want to come here and tell me that I’m second place to that same rookie, in my sister’s opinion? Y’know how that feels? Worse!” Lando was crying now, unable to control it. “I’ve been second to someone my whole fucking life, and Y/n was the one person who understood me! And now you want to take her away!” 
“I’m not taking her away, Lando! We’re both still going to be here for you!” Oscar took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t take your frustrations on the track out on her, she’s the one suffering for it. You’re suffering for it too, and so am I. Lando, she loves you no matter what, you know that.” “I’m scared alright?” He groaned. “I’m scared that one day I’ll turn around after an interview and see her celebrating you winning over me! I’m scared that she’ll see I’m not as good as you! I’m scared.” 
“You can be scared all you want, but she isn’t like that, Lando. Talk to her about this, she’ll reassure you-”
“And how the fuck would you know? You barely know her-”
“I know her a lot better than you do if this is what you think of her,” Oscar’s words cut through the tension in the warm air. Lando flinched like he’d been hit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me from this shitty night out, I’m going to go find your sister and tell her how I feel. Goodbye Lando.”
Oscar didn’t even bother going back inside to grab his coat, he just started walking. Jimmy’s was a 30 minute walk from your regular cinema, and if his calculations were correct, you’d be getting out of the screening just then. 
As he walked he thought about everything Lando had said. It was pathetic, honestly, why couldn’t Lando have just told you how he felt instead of ruining the incredible thing you and Oscar had going with his own insecurities. Maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe Lando just hadn’t experienced what you two had. 
“Oscar?” you walked up to him, smiling. 
“Hi,” he answered, stopping in his tracks.
“How are you?” you asked, awkward tension filling the air.
“I’m… I’m alright. I wanted to talk to you,” he explained. 
“Talk away,” you smiled. 
“Well… Lando and I had this big blow up argument, and I made a choice. I don’t care what he wants anymore, and if he has a problem with me loving you, then it’s his problem, not ours. I want you back Y/n, more than anything. I miss you every fucking day. And if the only reason we’re not together is because of him, then I’m forgetting how he feels. I want you back if you’ll have me.”
You stood there, shocked. It had been 4 months since you and Oscar had broken up. You loved him, but you loved your brother too. You couldn’t put your relationship with your brother at risk for Oscar, could you? Lando had been for you throughout your childhood, a constant. You wouldn’t be able to handle him not being there, would you? “Oscar, when did you two argue-?” “30 minutes ago?” he shrugged, a soft smile on his lips. 
“I-oh wow. Osc, you know I love you, but Lando’s my brother and… I can’t betray him, can I?”
“Is it betrayal?” Oscar questioned. 
You’d been trying to figure out for the past 4 months why it was betrayal, yet you came up blank every time. Lando had dated friends of yours, and broken their hearts, why shouldn’t you return the favour? “But he said it was. He’s my brother Osc… I can’t just… ruin our relationship-”
“He ruined ours!” he sighed, exasperated. “All because he’s a insecure prick, no offence-” “None taken-” “And he was scared you’d stop picking him over me, which I understand but like, for fuck’s sake, he could’ve just spoken to you about it!” 
You thought for a moment. What did you want? Oscar. Always. You woke up thinking about him, fell asleep thinking about him, dreamt of him. He was everything you’d ever wanted.  “Are we really going to do this Osc?” you whispered into the darkness of the night. 
His lips turned into a smile, and then they were on yours. He’d gotten the girl, he’d gotten the win, and he didn’t care what anyone else said.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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teapartyprincess4two · 8 months ago
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omg can you make a chris version to the talkative fic? my english isn’t very good i apology if this doesn’t make sense!
Talkative- C. Sturniolo
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pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Chris
classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons
inspiration: request^^
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship
summary: head cannons of Chris with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!
Talkative- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)
Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)
☆ SFW
You love to talk and that’s something Chris has loved about you from the moment he met you. He, much like you, is extremely extroverted, but every girl he’s talked to in the past has always found him to be too much. You’re his perfect match and although he also likes to talk, he loves to listen too.
☆ Chris never gets tired of hearing you talk, “Babe tell me the story about the teddy bear again.”
☆ You retell stories in such a detailed way that he can’t help but burst into laughter even if he’s heard it before.
☆ When you talk about your friends, it’s like you’re explaining their lore in full detail each time.
☆ “No, babe, that was Savannah. I’m talking about Teala,” or “Dude, I’m telling you that’s why they fired that bitch.”
☆ He has all the characters memorized, even categorizing their lives into arcs, episodes, and seasons.
☆ “Wow Teala is in her villain arc,” and “On this weeks episode of, Who the Fuck is Getting Fired!”
☆ He loves asking you questions because you somehow know the answer to everything.
☆ You’ll be eating dinner and suddenly a random question will pop into his mind, “Y/n, what does litigate mean? I heard someone use it today, sounded fancy.”
☆ You look up at him mid bite, slightly confused but also intrigued at a new topic of conversation.
☆ “I think it has something to do with the law, I don’t know, babe. But one time I heard someone say that on one of those court shows…” you drone on for a while.
☆ Chris always Googles the answers afterwards, not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he truly thinks you’re the smartest person on this planet and you haven’t been wrong yet.
☆ You’re both equally insane, you’ll laugh like crazy people no matter where you are.
☆ You tell the best jokes too, your mind works so fast that you’re able to create comebacks and quick, witty remarks to everything he says.
☆ Sometimes you’ll join him and his brothers on grocery trips, and the both of you wander off just completely in your own world.
☆ You’re the only person who can catch Chris off guard.
☆ You’ll say something completely unexpected and outlandish, causing him to pause whatever he’s doing and stare at you in shock.
☆ “Babe! No way you just said that.”
☆ “I said it, and I’ll say it again.”
☆ When you’re with friends, you tend to talk over each other and your friends almost break their necks switching their attention between you and Chris.
☆ To other people it might seem like you’re fighting each other for the spotlight, but in reality you’re able to bounce off each other’s energy and add on to whatever the other says.
☆ He knows what it’s like to be called annoying, so if anyone ever makes you feel uncomfortable for being talkative he defends you without hesitation.
☆ “Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t say shit like that about her.”
☆ Every conversation you have is full of inside jokes that no one else can keep up with, and it’s literally something new every week.
☆ Although other people are confused by the jokes, you and Chris understand each other fully, almost like you speak your own made up language.
☆ You make each other laugh so hard that your cheeks and ribs will start hurting.
☆ “Chris stop! I’m gonna pee,” you wheeze, rolling over on your side as you try to catch your breath.
☆ He keeps going though, making you laugh harder by making silly faces and funny voices through his story.
☆ After long days of filming and being away from you, he’ll cuddle up next to you in bed and murmur through the drowsiness, “Talk to me baby.”
☆ You know he’s tired so you don’t talk his ear off at a high energy, you just retell your day and play with his hair, kissing his face between sentences.
☆ He loves the sound of your voice, each word as sweet as honey, instantly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.
☆ You’re very opinionated and sometimes you say something he disagrees with, instantly creating a debate between the two of you.
☆ The debates always start off innocent, just you two going back and forth with opinions and the occasional fact.
☆ It’s not until it gets personal that Chris gets upset, giving you the silent treatment until you’re begging for him to talk to you again.
☆ “Chris, I’m sorry! Just talk to me, I’m so bored without you!” He tries putting on a tough guy act, but it never lasts long so he’s forgiving you within seconds.
☆ When you’re around older people, they always comment on what a nice, kind couple you two are because you engage in conversation with everyone.
☆ “What a nice old lady,” Chris says, slinging an arm around you as you both walk away.
☆ “Such wisdom,” you chime in, both of you falling into a fit of laughter. You could never take anything serious.
☆ NSFW
☆ Chris knows not to look too into your conversations with other guys, but sometimes he can’t help but get jealous.
☆ He’ll lose you at a party and find you talking to a stranger, an excited aura surrounding you as you jump from topic to topic.
☆ When he sees the guy becoming too comfortable and touchy, he makes his way over to you and inserts himself in the conversation.
☆ Later, he’s fucking you to teach you a lesson and clamping a strong hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, “This dirty little mouth of yours got you in trouble, Princess.”
☆ Other times he just gets turned on by your voice.
☆ He wants you to talk him through the sex and guide him on what positions you want.
☆ “C’mon baby, tell me how bad you want it.”
☆ Despite you both being talkative, there’s times when you’re so fucked out you’re speechless.
☆ The only sound that fills the room is skin slapping and Chris’s animalistic grunts, followed by your whimpers and small squeaks.
☆ He relishes in it, “This dick has you speechless, huh?”
☆ All he gets in response is a whimper, as you claw at his back for support.
☆ Chris loves when you dirty talk him, using your words to say filthy things to him.
☆ It riles him up beyond belief, and if you keep it going he’s lasting at least 3 rounds.
☆ Afterwards, he loves cuddling or spooning, both of you talking for hours about your future together.
MASTERLIST
A/n:
Happy birthday to me! (It was yesterday at this point)
Thank you for this request and NEVER apologize for your English/ grammar. I’m a bilingual education major and I firmly believe you don’t need to apologize for that EVER. I luv u!
Also I’m bilingual (English & Spanish) If any of yall ever want to send in a request in Spanish, go ahead bbys! LOS AMO 💋💋💋
Lastly, I’ll admit that this was harder to write than Matt’s version idky
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
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sooniebby · 2 months ago
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Thinking about hate sex between two band members from rivaling bands… using Korean bands because they’re the only bands I know well enough. Bottom male reader.
Anyway, you being apart of a new band that’s climbing on the charts. It’s not overnight success but it’s success any band would pray for in the Korean music market.
Things float well for the first five months until your band is invited to perform at a university’s festival. While there you come across someone you didn’t want to meet.
Your ex boyfriend. Well, ex fuck buddy.
It’s immediate anger when you first see him with his band. When you two notice each other, you immediately make fun of him, wondering why a band as popular as his is playing a small college festival.
Until he says that one of his band mates is an alumni of the school. Embarrassing…
The rest of the night is spent with glares and crass insults. Your band mates were confused the entire time, having never seen you act so childish before. Even his own band mates looked fed up with his antics.
When performances were over, all of the acts got to mingle with the college students. You almost immediately went home until one of your band mates dragged you to at least have one drink.
It was fun for a while. You had your arms wrapped around your band mate’s neck as he tilted your head back, feeding you a shot. His hand gripped your chin as your hands dug into his shirt. It would look oddly intimate to anyone else but you were a bit too drunk at this point to care too much.
Besides, you weren’t that big of a public figure yet to care about your image. You felt your band mate’s hand trail down your back to rest on the curve of your ass as he giggled. You returned the giggle, smiling up at him.
“More?” He asked, though you had to ask him to repeat a few times before you could understand him over the loud DJ.
When he pulled away to go grab another shot, you felt an arm grasp your arm and tug you away. You yelped, trying to fight against the grip of the other person, fearing you somehow got a saesang so early in your career until the street lamps illuminated your attacker.
Fucking…
It was just your ex.
You stopped fighting him and just followed, rolling your eyes. You didn’t notice that you were whining the entire time until your back hit the back of a storage closet, the door slamming shut. Your vision was a bit blurry as the lights were flickered on and there stood your ex boy—ex fuck buddy.
“Wha..? I was just about to get another shot fed to me! Move man…” You moved forward but was slammed right back into the wall. It practically knocked you sober as you glared up at him.
“Dude what the—”
You didn’t get to say anything else as he pressed his lips against yours, pressing you hard against the wall. You couldn’t kiss back as he took total control of the kiss. Your hands reached to push him away but he easily pushed them away, slamming them against the wall as well.
His hands trailed down to your hands, sticking them inside as he grabbed a handful of your ass. Your strangled gasps filled the storage closet as you tried to keep your voice down. You tried to cuss him out.
“Stop? Why should I when you’re pulling me closer?”
You glanced down at your hands to see them gripping at his shirt, tugging him forward. A flush of embarrassment washed over you as you tried to come up with a lie but he reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing your head back.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at your face, taking you in while you felt your cock twitch in your boxers that felt too tight now.
It felt like a blink of an eye when you were suddenly pressed against the wall on your stomach as he shoved your pants down. You whimpered but did nothing to stop him as he ate you out.
You almost wondered why you even broke up with him when his tongue was this good… until he pulled away just as you were on the edge of an orgasm. Your eyes watched him with eye wides as he stood up and stared at you with a wide smirk.
“You can take care of the rest, right?” He asked, his lips moving into a slight snarl as his eyes narrowed. “Or maybe call that band mate of yours. You were practically on his dick earlier.”
With that he left, slamming the door shut behind him. You stared at him shock as you fell to your knees.
That fucking dick…
What the fuck was his problem?!
Thinking… if enough of yall are curious.. to expand this into a full fic. I actually might just do it anyway but would love to know if you guys are interested
Tag list: @tehyunnie @the-ultimate-librarian @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @flurrina @tomoeroi @rhetorical-conscience @remdayz @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @cherry-blossoms-187
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princessbrunette · 1 month ago
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ᡣ𐭩 。ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა
GIBSON GIRL ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
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♩ethel cain — gibson girl ♩
pairing: toxicbf!jj x reader
cw: jealousy, manhandling, exhibitionism, outdoor sex, cnc, degradation, toxic relationship, one spank.
you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day four.
you’d liked to think you’d done nothing wrong.
jj knew what you were when he started dating you — friendly, sociable, a party girl, infact you’d even say those were some of the things that drew him to you in the first place.
as you step up to the chateau, having walked there in a pair of sandals that were rubbing your feet just a little too much, and your eyes dry from last nights drinking antics at the kegger — you could already tell jj wasn’t pleased with you from the look on his face.
he’s leaning up against that big tree outside the house, smoking a cigarette. jj was an avid stoner, yes — but he only smoked cigs when he was mad. you sigh, leaves crunching under your tread. in the back of your mind you note the uncharacteristic, slight chill in the air too — an introduction to the muggy autumn weather the obx briefly gets once a year.
“yeah i’m like shocked you even came.” jj calls out before you’re close enough, glancing between you and the cig he was now stomping out beneath his sneaker, twisting his ankle to smush it into the dirt.
“why?” your voice rasps, still that little bit hung over. jj laughs, bitterly and he doesn’t look at you— whipping his hat off and raking a hand through matted blonde hair before shoving it back on. oh, here we go.
“thought you’d like — leave to go fuck some other dude. y’know, seein’ as our relationship just means jack shit to you.” he shrugs like he doesn’t care but the look in his eyes tells you everything.
“what have i done now, jj?” you lean on your hip and he meets you in the middle on the grass, licking over sore, thin red lips.
“so you’re just gonna pretend you weren’t shakin’ your ass for the whole of the cut last night? lettin’ juuuust everyone see up your skirt? you got a man so like, you can’t just act single — i dunno know, that’s just my opinion—”
“you’re mad at me for dancing? at a party?” you step up to him which you know was a mistake as soon as his eyes flutter slightly as he glares down at you, suddenly pinning his mouth shut— jaw slightly clenched.
“yeah you’re right. i’m crazy, huh?” his nostrils flare, eye contact persisting. truthfully, yeah — he was, which is why you struggled to stand on business, not knowing what his next move might be. you shrink a millimetre in stature but you know he notices. “nah, don’t back down now. say it. say m’crazy mama.” he enters your space, filled was rage and smelling like marlboro reds.
“i’m not doing this—” you go to move past him, but he grabs you by the waist, even when you fight. “jj get off!”
“yeah we are, yeah we’re fucking doing this babe—” you speak over eachother frantically as you struggle until he’s wrestled you to the ground on your front, pressing your cheek into the dirt with a hand on the back of your head. you feel those thick cheap rings digging into your skull.
“acting like you don’t like this shit or something.” he scoffs as he straddles the back of your thighs. he’s rough, rougher than usual because there’s real anger behind each move and your heart pounds in your chest. what’s it called when you love someone so much you let them do whatever they want to you? even if it’s not warranted? it seemed like every guy round here was the same. no different from the rafes of the world — just violent and dirty and cruel. yet you couldn’t live without jj.
“jj, you’re — i don’t —”
“you didn’t mind showin’ off infront of everyone last night so you don’t mind if i just take what i want right here, right? nah, course you don’t.” he mutters, not even considering expecting a reply from you as you starts to fight your wriggling hips out of your denim shorts, sliding them down your ass. anyone could come by and see this obscene act, so naturally you felt hot all over and sadly, sickeningly aroused despite the thick knot in your stomach.
“s’not like that.” you whine, tears in your eyes as you turn your head toward the house— coming into direct eye contact with john b, who stood in the window with a mug of coffee.
he wouldn’t admit it, but john b didn’t mind all the borderline violent scuffles that you and jj would get into. bruises on your body from the rough and degrading sex showcased up and down your thighs when you’d lounge on the boat with the pogues, or red scratching of the word ‘MINE’ carved into jj’s back from your fingernails when his insta following would go up. for the most part he figured it was just kinky sex, nothing he wasn’t familiar with — but he had to say, he took a weird sick pride in hearing about you getting punished.
since dating you, you’d eaten up a good chunk of the time john b gets to spend with jj alone. jj used to be down for anything, would drop anything and anyone to be at his best friends side— and maybe john b had been selfish in letting that continue on to the point of expecting it. anytime he’d get time with the blonde, there you’d be nagging at the corners of the conversation or arriving unannounced to start something. it had gotten to the point where he too had began to indulge in violent sexual fantasies toward you, getting his own chance to put you in your place. you’re not one of us, he’d say — because he’s tired of being the kind and mature one.
“jj, j—john b is there you can’t—”
he’s already got your panties down, spreading your folds open to look at you a little too widely to the point you wince, jerking.
“alright and so what, it’s just john b. you didn’t care ‘bout all the extra eyes last night.” he shrugs one shoulder which surprises you. for someone so possessive, he really didn’t care.
when he pushes himself into you, you’re still locking eyes with the brunette through the dusty window. john b was typically courteous and would pretend to look away when jj would get to aggressively fondling you, but now he stares — puppy eyed and unabashed like he was doing nothing wrong, bringing the mug to his lips to take a leisurely sip as his best friend fucks you in the dirt. you even swear you see him shaking his head, all disappointed and dad like.
despite your walls clasping and clenching around jj, your head pounds and eyes burn with humiliation so you continue to squirm. maybe, somewhere deep in your mind you only squirm because you know that jj wants the fight, he wants you to struggle and suffer and pay for what you did. learn a lesson, so he’d say. despite everything, despite this — you just wanted to please him.
“had to make sure no one’s been breakin’ in these pretty tight holes babe, you understand right?” he pants, hands pressing into your back to keep you still. you already know the front of your clothes is ruined with dirt and mud.
you let out a pathetic groaned whimper similar to a ‘hnnnng’ sound as your brows furrow in defeat, eyes dropping to the way john b strains against his shorts, only turning to walk away when you watch him adjust himself. somehow, it makes your cunt flutter more and you wait for the blow of jj’s realisation.
a hard smack on your ass, there it is.
“my god, dude of course you’re gettin’ off on this. i knew you were a slut but jesus, way to prove it to me.”
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haztory · 9 months ago
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['sex' by the 1975]
⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)
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“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.
“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.
“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”
the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed. 
“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.
atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”
“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”
“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”
”some people take a minute to figure it out.”
”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”
“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room. 
his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities. 
its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment. 
its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have. 
there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does. 
there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.
atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort. 
its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years. 
pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.
right. 
“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.” 
“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”
“you’re being mean.” you tell him. 
atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”
“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“
“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”
“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you. 
you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard. 
(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.
[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.
[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.
[9:20] you were our biggest argument. 
[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.
[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip
there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.
you don’t tell atsumu about it.)
“alright. sit up then.”
his voice startles you. “what?” 
suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.
your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.
it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.
“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”
its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.
“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod. 
lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw. 
his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale. 
his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away. 
“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.
“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.
it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.
“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips. 
“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”
“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”
“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”
“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend. 
and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should. 
“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”
“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”
“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet. 
satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear.  “does he touch ya like this?” 
the gasp you release is guttural.
the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.  
his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.” 
its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”
its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.
“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.
“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words. 
and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.
you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.
“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room. 
his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise. 
a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in. 
“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension. 
“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”
he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.
there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off. 
but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight. 
there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.
your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.
osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth. 
but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to. 
he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.
you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.
“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”
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a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!
1K notes · View notes
breadbrobin · 10 months ago
Text
fate
clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
[part 2 to the trees]
summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.
warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway
word count: 3.2k
(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)
(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)
———————————————
the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.
this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.
ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.
curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.
you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.
your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.
why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.
stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.
“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.
“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”
“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.
“y/n, wait up!”
you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.
“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.
“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.
you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”
your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.
“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”
clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”
that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.
she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.
“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.
your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“
“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”
you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.
“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”
“uh…”
“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”
“she’s nice to me,” you protested.
“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”
did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”
he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”
you nodded absently. “maybe.”
“great, it’s a date!”
you frowned. “it’s a what?”
he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.
when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.
“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”
“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”
your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”
she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.
you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.
“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.
“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.
she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”
you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”
she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.
“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.
“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.
well, that hurt.
“yeah, we’re just—“
“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”
your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”
“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.
“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.
she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.
then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.
“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”
you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”
you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.
her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.
you stepped back and turned, marching away.
“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”
“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.
you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.
it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?
or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.
whatever it was, it put you on edge.
there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.
you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.
your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?
you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.
the future was not looking promising.
there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.
you turned around.
the bushes were rustling.
you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.
mandibles.
two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.
there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.
“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”
you turned and ran.
the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.
where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.
then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.
“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.
you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.
it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.
you were beginning to lose hope.
honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.
just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.
it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.
as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.
“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.
“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.
just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.
she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.
“i dropped my—“
“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.
the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.
you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.
“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.
“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.
“you could have died!”
“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”
finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.
you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.
you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.
once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.
you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.
“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.
“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.
“everyone knows they’re there.”
“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”
“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.
“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”
“i don’t need your defending.”
“and i don’t need your help!”
“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.
“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.
she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“
“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.
“what?”
“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”
there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.
she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”
“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”
“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”
“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.
“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.
“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”
“and i didn’t want to help you!”
“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”
she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”
the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.
“what?” you asked, your voice softer.
it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.
so you did.
she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.
when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.
she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.
“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”
clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”
“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”
“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”
“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”
“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.
“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”
she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”
you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.
fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.
and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?
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evie-sturns · 9 months ago
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𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘥 - 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰
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summary: when you and matt first started dating, you made a rule, that you two would never go to sleep mad at each other, but tonight a heated argument breaks that rule.
warnings: arguing, angst?, crying, swearing, fluff.
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me and matt don't fight often, in our 4 months of being together we've only bickered, aside from the odd big argument. we always make up by the end of the day because of our rule. never fall asleep angry with each other.
9:48pm
"matt i promise, i didn't mean to." i sigh, i'm exhausted after our arguing, which has been going on for 45 minutes.
"you didn't mean to search my phone, im sure." he scoffs, grabbing his phone and checking the time.
"i fucking didn't matt, your phone was being spammed every 2 seconds so i picked it up, then you came in, its not my fault it looked different from how it actually was."
i say, my voice raising as i go to walk away, but matt grabs my wrist, yanking me back towards him. "so all the other apps that had been opened weren't you hm?"
he says glaring down at me, matt never loosens his painful grip, i don't think he even realises he's hurting me. his rings leave red marks on my arm.
"im going to sleep matthew." i say, my voice barely audible and wobbling.
matt's grip softens, allowing me to pull away.
i run upstairs, slamming the door to the bedroom behind me as i hold back my tears.
i rarely cry, matt's only seen me cry a handful of times meaning its a shock for him each time i do.
i strip down to just a tank top and panties before crawling into bed, shutting my eyes, hoping to sleep off the built-up frustration inside me.
just as i feel myself drifting to sleep the door swings open, followed by matt's angry stomps. he rips down the covers and plops himself in, before yanking them back up.
after a few minutes i roll over, matts back is facing me. i reach out a hand to grab his, he pushes me off. "dude don't fucking touch me?" matt says, somehow moving further away from me.
that'll do it.
i climb out of bed, grabbing my pillow as i walk over to the small basket in the corner of our room, filled with blankets from our previous movie nights. i pull up a blanket into my arms as tears fill my waterline. matt flicks on the lamp which rests on our bedside table, a warm yellow light fills the room.
"what the fuck are you doing this time." matt says, squinting his eyes.
i erupt into sobs, my face scrunching as tears soak my face. through my blurred vision, i can partially see concern and worry painted across matts face. i have a pillow under my arm, a blanket in my other and im clutching matts pug stuffed animal, which we share now.
i walk out of the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind me before sprinting downstairs, i place my pillow down on the small couch, and lay down, pulling the grey blanket over me and cuddling the pug to my chest, which shortly gets damp from my tears.
11:34pm
i dont know how long ive been asleep, or even where i am, but i'm woken up from matts arms around me, holding me in a bridal position. "matt..?" i say, looking up at him through my swollen eyes.
"i know gorgeous, theres no heating down here its too cold for you sweetheart." matt says, his voice soft and quiet.
my eyebrows furrow, did we even fight? or did i dream it? i look down at my wrist, which is red from where matt grabbed me earlier,
we fought.
matt carries me upstairs, his grip on me is so gentle i cant even comprehend how I'm being held up right now.
he opens our bedroom door with his elbow, the room is pristine, cleaner than I've ever seen it. "why is it so tidy in here.." i squeeze out, my voice raspy. matt clears his throat "oh-.. uh couldn't sleep so i cleaned.."
he pulls back the covers, readjusting the pillow with one hand before laying me down. "do you want me to come in the bed with you or are you happy by yourself.." matt says, his voice timid.
"you can come in.." i say, wide awake now and fully aware of everything thats happened in the past 3 hours.
matt lies down next to me, his body tense.
"im really sorry, i feel so guilty." matt says, tilting his head to look over at me. i nod, "it was my fault too." i say, fidgeting with my nails.
"no its not, i overreacted so much i don't even know what went over me, i regret it so much." matts voice shakes.
"i feel like shit for even touching you." matt says, "and i'm sorry for waking you up but i didnt want to break our rule.."
"huh?" i say, looking over at him, our eyes making eye contact.
"no going to bed angry with eachother.." he says with a small laugh.
i roll over to face him, a wide smile spread across my face. "oh matt.." i say, climbing ontop of him and laying down, burying my face on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around, underneath him.
he hugs me back with a sigh of relief, but somethings different,
"matt! where are your rings?" i say, sitting up on his torso and grabbing his hand.
"i couldn't even look at them without feeling guilty, i know they dug into your arm.."
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i love this i was in such a writey mood
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li-x1nyu · 2 months ago
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how tartaglia reacts when you're drunk and don't recognize him
tartaglia x gn!reader
sfw, drunk reader, angst, some fluff, reader has been hurt in prev relationships
A/N: i don't usually post stuff like this hehe, idk what changed my mind to!! hope you enjoy🤭
You had told him if you didn't come home before 2, he should probably come pick you up.
"Hey, you're here!" Hu Tao beams at Tartaglia.
"Thanks for watching them," he grins and gestures to you sitting at the counter.
"Yeah, dude, of course."
Tartaglia stares at you for a little while. He still can't get over how pretty you are, the curve of your nose, the ways your eyes kiss in the corners. Your hair looks surprisingly neat for someone who's drunk. Your expression is distant, finger trailing along the edge of the glass. You seem to be drinking vodka? He thought you didn't like vodka.
Sliding an arm around your shoulders, he leans to whisper in your ear, "Hey, pretty, you ready to go?"
You leap back into the present.
Looking puzzled, you push his arm off of you, saying, "Please don't call me that."
He blinks, a ghost of a smile still on his face. "Haha... what?"
Their faces mirror each other in confusion.
"I'm not going home with you, I have a boyfriend," you say, turning back to the half filled glass.
It clicks in Tartgalia's head, and a teasing grin forms. "A boyfriend, huh? Can I fight him for you?"
"You'd lose," you reply flatly, deadpan.
Dropping himself into the seat next to you and propping up his cheek, he says, "Tell me about this boyfriend of yours."
He watches his lover's expression brighten, like you forgot the entire exchange that just happened.
"Oh, he's the sweetest," you gush immediately. "And he makes me laugh so much, and he's so lively and good with people, but he's so hardworking and stubborn and, ugh, he's so beautiful. How is it possible to be so beautiful?"
His heart is about to explode all over Hu Tao's kitchen counter. His mind can't believe it, he's the reason your face is a beautiful, dreamy, rambling mess.
And you're not done. "I don't deserve him," you say, "I wish I could do something for him, but he always says I don't have to."
Because you don't have to, my dove, Tartaglia thinks. You're doing more than enough already.
Your expression suddenly snaps. "Shit. I'm a terrible person. I need to go home."
Tartaglia snaps out of his own trance in alarm. "Why?"
"He's at home now, and I'm out here getting wasted." You rub your face and search for your bag and phone.
"Woah, hey, you're drunk," he holds you by the shoulders, "I'm taking you home."
"Just because you're literally gorgeous doesn't mean you get to touch and take home random people!" You smack his hands off of you, again. Tartaglia's not sure if he should cry or laugh.
You cover your mouth in surprise at your own words. "Holy fuck, I'm a terrible person," you whisper. "Am I allowed to call someone who isn't my boyfriend gorgeous?"
He's convinced alcohol makes your brain overthink twice as fast as it usually does.
He also thinks it's a dumb question. Have I given them the impression they can't speak their mind?
He thinks it's okay. "Of course you are," he tells you instead, frowning. "He's not a good boyfriend if you have to be allowed to do something."
"No, he's a great boyfriend!" you say instantly. "I just-" You cut yourself off with a sigh and chew on your fingernail. There's a loud thumping in his heart as he waits for you to continue.
"I never know about these things," you say finally. "I feel like he never really tells me how he truly feels. I don't know if there's something I do that actually bothers him. And I'm..." You rub your nose bridge. "I'm scared to ask."
Tartaglia is quiet for a long moment. What he has cleverly deduced from this is that his lover is scared of him. All pride he'd felt earlier from making you swoon is now replaced by a sick feeling of self hatred.
"Maybe there's just nothing you do that really bothers him," he suggests softly, trying to lighten the mood.
Your expression turns glum. Fuck, was that the wrong thing to say? He mentally kicks himself.
"That can't be right," you sigh. "When I have nightmares, he always wakes up to comfort me. I'm pretty sure that pisses him off. And he always says it's okay too, but-" you blink rapidly, like blinking away tears. Tag winces.
"But then he... he takes longer in the shower, adds more caffeine to his coffee. And- and he'll eat less of the breakfast I make him."
"Oh," he says smartly, running out of things to say. He should've paid more attention to the little things, knowing that of course you would.
You shake your head and squeeze your slightly glassy eyes shut. After mumbling to yourself, "stop oversharing to strangers" twice, you put the cork back in the vodka bottle and set your glass in Hu's sink after pouring it down the drain.
"Anyway," you turn to him when you're done, "goodnight, I guess. Thanks for listening?"
"I'll walk you home," he offers again, softly.
You hesitate. Of course you hesitate.
"You're drunk," he reminds you. "I'm sure your boyfriend won't mind as long as you get home safe."
You give in. You let him put his coat around your shoulders, but you don't put your hands through the sleeves.
Halfway home, you just stop walking.
"Love?" Tag tilts his head at you. "Darling, what's wrong?"
You blink a few times. "Tartaglia?"
He grins. "Yes, hi. You recognize me now?"
You blink again. Then a smile starts to spread, and you forget the reason for your daze. You put your arms into the sleeves of his coat. "Yes," you say sheepishly. "Hey, you."
A hand is held out for him to hold.
Their talk can wait for next morning.
sorry if tartaglia is a little ooc! thank you for reading 🫶 might post a part two where he comforts you about it?
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kafka-ish · 3 months ago
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Being Art and Patrick’s roommate… OMG
I feel like you all have known each other since high school or maybe you and Art have roomed together in college and Patrick was always hanging around your guys’ dorm so after you graduate you decide why not? It’s comfortable. You all know each other. But you don’t realize how fucking awkward it is until Patrick’s roaming around shirtless in his boxers. Eating cold pizza for breakfast straight out of the fridge with a left over beer to go with it.
You get up one morning and see him lounging around the living room like he owns the place and you’re just like seriously? And he’s just like yeah, deal with it.
“Yeah but, Ren and Stimpy?” He wishes you were ogling him even though he has a girlfriend who hates the fact that you live with him but it’s fine because so does Art. Not like anything’s gonna happen…
And, yeah, part of you also wants to eyeball his abs and v-line and jaw. Not to mention the bulge that’s poking out of his—
But it’s only natural. But he’s basically your older brother so you tell him to go put on a shirt.
“Sorry, babe, laundry day.” Or sometimes he’ll say, “you wish you were lucky enough to get a paid subscription to this.” And you try to pass it off. Hope he doesn’t see you blush or brush his skin when you try to take the remote from him.
“You should be more like Art.” He hates when you say this to him. He doesn’t know what the hell that means; if you mean it or not. Patrick’s always been good with girls but he can never pick up on your sarcasm or when you’re being deadpan because the only interactions you have are petty fights over the food you had saved, the dishes, how messy he is. Basically your whole living dynamic. And you never chastise Art. Sometimes you make a point to tell him how much you love the way he organized the cabinets while Patrick’s on the couch watching re-runs of shitty reality tv he’s not even that interested in. You thank Art for the fact that you never have to pick up after him. Say stuff like at least someone got dressed today.
Patrick just rolls his eyes. Says he’s going to the gym at one so he’ll be out of your hair or okay mom or since when are you in charge?
And as much as Patrick tries not to let it get to him, it does. He confides to Art about this. “Dude… I think she’s pissed.”
“Yeah, well… You can be messy sometimes, Patrick.”
“I think she hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She lives with you.”
And even though Art’s sworn to secrecy, he tells you anyway. He can’t keep his mouth shut and he wants to make things right. You guys are roommates.
You’re in your room. Art’s inside you and this is the only thing that boy hasn’t told anyone about yet. It’s just casual sex. It started in college but it just kept… happening.
“Patrick thinks you hate him.”
“What? I never said that.” Art shrugs, still shoving his cock inside you.
“That’s what he told me.” He groans. Grips the flesh of your hips. Thrusts become deeper and his forehead bumps yours. “Fuck. You’re, like, tighter each time we do this.”
“I think that’s just a myth.”
He reaches the hilt of your pussy. Moans loudly when he finishes. Stays inside for a minute.
He pulls out and his blonde curls flop onto the pillow next to yours. Messy, sweaty, spreading out in every direction. His breath is heavy. “Anyway, I think you should talk to him.”
“What would I say?”
“Actually, maybe don’t say anything.”
Your face makes a confused look at the ceiling, contemplating. Art sees this. Kisses your cheek.
“Want me to go down on you?”
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captainreecejames · 5 months ago
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Can't Have a Good Thing || My ex is a footballer LS2 edition
[masterlist][my ex series masterlist]
summary you go from dating an american footballer to an american driver
pairings ex!christian pulisic x reader, logan sargeant x reader
warnings probably a little anti pulisic but i still love my baby
notes pictures are from pinterest so thank you to all those lovely users (as I wrote this my english teacher from 11th grade came into my job and it was not fun!)
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May 2023 ynusername posted -------
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liked by cmpulisic, reece and others
ynusername final chelsea game of the season, love you guys
chelseafc awww we love you too yn ❤️ by author
cmpulisic always love having you there ↳ ynusername wouldn't want to be anywhere else
username1 look at my girl dawg, chelsea is embarrassing her ↳ username2 please, christian didn't even play
reece once a blue always a blue ↳ username3 NAH WHY IS THIS SO CRYPTIC ↳ username4 you can't say shit like this then leave DUDE
username5 that chrisyn interaction screams for help ↳ username6 i wouldn't be surprised if they're not dating anymore but trying to keep up appearances ↳ username7 breakup statement incoming ↳ username8 can we get fabrizio to comment on wag breakups please!! ↳ username7 lol can you imagine a here we go! breakup is official! peak comedy
cesarazpilicueta 💙 ↳ ynusername love you too capitan!
July 2023 real life ---------
It’s been a rough few months in the house for the two of you. Christian’s time at Chelsea was most likely coming to an end, and you had just started a new project at work, so your time was filled with that. Nights spent making dinner and laughing together turned to plates left in the microwave and lights out early. Mornings started with short wake up kisses to hardly whispered goodbyes.
In fewer words, the relationship was falling apart. You barely knew what was going on in each others lives anymore, it’s no surprise when he tells you he’s leaving Chelsea.
Chris is still in Florida with his family, enjoying the last few days off before preseason. You had been with him for the 4th of July, but needed to fly back to London almost immediately for a new project and you’re exhausted. When he Facetimes you it’s almost 11:30 at night and your still sitting in your home office, but with how excited Chris is, he can’t tell that you’re operating on extremely low levels of energy. You want to be excited for him, but you can see the writing on the wall.
“Hey babe.” You know what’s coming, but it doesn’t make the shock any less. “I’ve got some big news.” He waits for you to say something, but all you do is blink and nod. “AC Milan are going to sign me.” He waits again for you to say something. “Did you hear me? I’m leaving Chelsea.”
“Yeah, I heard you.” Your lack of enthusiasm confuses Christian.
“Then why aren’t you excited?”
Your apathy turns to frustration quickly and you shift in the chair. “Because, Christian, I’m not just going to blow up my life in London to follow you to a new city. I’ve got a job here and it’s going well. I don’t want to have to start all over again. Not to mention learning a whole new language. Have you considered how isolating that would be for me?”
“So what, I just rot at Chelsea because you don’t want to move?” He is now just as defensive as you, words biting at the holes that have formed in your relationship, making them grow.
“I didn’t say that!” You sit up even straighter, putting your phone down against the computer so it stands on it’s own.
“Well it sounds like you don’t want to leave.”
“I don’t want to pack up my life and move to a new country where I don’t know anyone.”
You could see the fight leave his body as he came to the same realization you did. “What’s going to happen to us?”
“I think we’re done Chris.” You can feel your heart break that last little bit with the words you say. You love Christian, but with everything you’ve gone through, it’s not enough.
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September 2023 real life ------
In one hand you held your phone, looking down at the details of your train back to London, in the other a hot chocolate to warm you up in the brisk wind of Oxford. It’s how you missed the body in front of you and ended up falling straight on your ass because of it, hot chocolate splashing onto your shirt.
“Fucking hell,” you whispered, pulling your shirt away from your body so it didn’t burn.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” said an American accent. You groaned in your head, not wanting to deal with this. “I should’ve been looking where I was going.” They put a hand in your face, gesturing to help you up, which you took. 
“No, it was my fault, I was staring at my phone,” you told them as they pulled you up. He was strong, and also probably a little awkward as he was still holding your hand.
“Me too, so I really won’t let you take the blame.” His awkward smile was also cute, but you tried not to think that, it wouldn’t agree with your ‘no boys agenda.’ “Do you need another hot chocolate?” The cup was empty at your feet, making you wince. 
“Yeah, probably another shirt too.” It’s at that point that he realizes he’s still holding your hand, and he drops it.
“Let me get you one.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You’re still very early for the train, but travel anxiety is terrible and you want to leave soon.
“I insist.” Something about his smile and red cheeks makes you say yes to him, and you’re really not sure why. “I’m Logan, by the way.” He’s leading you back into the line of the cafe, smiling at you still.
“I’m YN,” you tell him.
ynusername posted ---------
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ynusername exploring oxford finally
bsfinstagram babe you run into any quidditch players ↳ ynusername bitch you know i'm swearing off athletes
username7 damn why are you so beautiful
samkerr 💞 ↳ ynusername ugh bestie i love you
pulisick10 'SWEARING OFF ATHLETES?' Christian mate pulisic what did you do!?! ↳ username8 that is so fucking harsh though like pulisic really did a number on our girl here ↳ pulisick10 ben chilwell still in the likes tho ↳ username8 nah her and ben are friends, like ben was always close with christian and just cause he left doesn't mean that she can't be friends still ↳ username8 also she's still good friends with the women's team ↳ pulisick10 well that's cause the women are better ❤️ by ynusername and bsfinstagram ↳ username8 NOT HER LIKING THAT but also won't argue with that
logansargeant at least the weather was good ↳ ynusername youre right, thank you english sun who comes out once in a blue moon ↳ bsfinstagram I'm questioning things ↳ ynusername well you shouldn't
username11 she's sworn off athletes but has a formula 1 driver in her comments... ↳ username12 fake bitch ↳ username13 two people can be friends right? ↳ username12 she breaks up with christian because of the distance but is talking a driver like he isn't gone more than half the year, she's definitely fake for that ↳ username13 how do you know that's why they broke up ↳ username14 she doesn't she's just being a hater ❤️ by ynusername ↳ username11 damn all this fighting on my comment thread?
username12 not yn liking so many comments, do you read them ↳ ynusername gotta appreciate a good laugh ↳ username13 yn stalks her comments like a real one should
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yn's messages -----------
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November 2023 yn's messages ------------
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real life --------
Your hotel room is kind of a mess, with clothes thrown around and various pieces of paper on the floor. It’s not really a surprise to Logan, even though he hasn’t known you very long.
After a long day exploring New York City in fairly okay weather, the two of you are relaxing in your hotel room before dinner. “Can I ask you something?” Logan asks. He’s currently sitting in the desk chair, feet propped up on the desk and head hung back. 
“Go ahead.” You’re on your bed, laying like a starfish.
“Would you say yes to going on a date with me?” You sit up straight, staring at him with wide eyes as he doesn’t move.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
“No, I’m asking if you’d say yes to me asking you on a date.” His clarification makes you narrow your eyes, but he still doesn’t move. 
“I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”
That gets him moving, turning the chair to look at you. “So would you say yes or no?”
“I’d say no right now.”
“What about in a month?”
“In a month, when we’re both back in England, I’d probably say yes.”
“Cool,” he shrugs, going back to putting his feet on the desk. “Then I’ll ask you again in January.”
ynusername posted ---------
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ynusername look who came to visit
lilymhe booooo bring me next time ↳ ynusername you're welcome whenever, he invited himself ↳ logansargeant literally not true you asked me to come ↳ ynusername stop lying! i wanted thanksgiving but you have this job that makes you fly across the world to drive a stupid car or something
oscarpiastri look at him jumping for joy for you ↳ ynusername yeah well, what can i say, I'm a dream come true
bsfinstagram ahhhh just under 2 weeks until you come home!! ↳ ynusername I missed you so much ↳ bsfinstagram debrief over wine incoming!
username18 nope she is definitely dating this driver ↳ username19 it's so weird cause like if she really broke up with christian because of distance then isn't this just so much worse ↳ username20 i don't think they broke up just because of distance, things were probably weird for a couple of months before hand cause she wasn't going to as many mens games, she was definitely going to the women's games though.
timothyweah did you get a hotdog from the hotdog guy? ↳ ynusername yes... why? ↳ timothyweah cause they're good and i just want to make sure that you did ↳ ynusername okay timmy
chelseafcw don't stay too long we miss you ↳ ynusername aww, i miss you guys too
May 2024 ynusername posted--------
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others
ynusername Miami you can be pretty but you're on my shit list
landonorris no whyyyyy ↳ ynusername idk might have something to do with my boyfriend dnfing at his home race. ↳ landonorris oh, okay ↳ ynusername but i guess congrats on your win ↳ landonorris thanks ynnnnn! ↳ oscarpiastri someone is still drunk
logansargeant ohhh he's handsome ↳ ynusername yeah and he's got a jealous ass girlfriend so beware ↳ logansargeant love you too babe
username23 finally confirmed that they're dating only seven months later
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taesanrot · 4 months ago
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[heavy] sunghoon x f!reader | 2.1k words exes to lovers, second chance, angst syn. ever since you broke up with your long term boyfriend, park sunghoon, he's been heavy on your mind. foolishly, you try to move on, but seeing him at a party reminds you why you can't let him go. note. i've been wanting to start a series based on songs i've been listening to recently! this is the second and hopefully not last fic in this collection lol. also this was kinda supposed to be a implied college au but im now realizing the setting is kinda vague so imagine it as you like :)
now playing: heavy by the marías
"cause i don't wanna be in love with another, even in another life."
sipping your drink, you wished so dearly to drown out the memories that played in your head like a broken record.
you were fine. everything was fine. you told yourself what you told everyone.
you were done with park sunghoon. it was for the better.
but even the loud drunken screams from your friends and the even louder music at this party couldn't make the words in your head stop playing over and over. you closed your eyes and tilted your face to the ceiling.
...
"let's go our separate ways." your emotionless voice contrasted with your tear streaked cheeks.
"y/n, what? what do you mean?" sunghoon's voice shook with confusion.
"i mean, let's break up."
"break up? baby i'm not breaking up with you over this." he stepped forward to grab your hand but you just crossed them in front of your chest.
"i'm tired of fighting! we're clearly not right for each other." your voice almost broke at the end, making sunghoon want to cry.
"couples fight all the time, you know we've both been really stressed lately, let's talk about this another time. when we're both feeling better." he tried and tried to reason with you, but your mind was set, and both of you knew that.
...
you felt stupid, then and now. it had been one month since you'd last seen your ex boyfriend, and you were a wreck. foolishly, you'd blamed everything going wrong on him, thinking that getting rid of your relationship would alleviate your stress. but sunghoon left a gaping hole in you, and suddenly it was like you were frozen.
the pain was unbearable, bu you were stubborn. you kept your head up, moving through night and day. you were a shell of yourself, but you were still standing.
you began to go out, your friends dragging you out of your apartment in an effort to cheer you up.
you tried and tried to move on. but talking to other guys made you feel sick. they didn't have his fluffy hair, his cute and pointy smile, or his pretty voice.
tonight was the same, you nursed a drink in your arms as you tried to forget everything.
"what are you thinking about, pretty?" you opened your eyes, nearly dropping your drink in shock as you turned towards the voice. you were face to face with a taller boy. he had dark hair and even darker eyes.
"nothing." you weren't going to get into your ex with a random guy at a party.
"i'm jisung, by the way." you smiled slightly as he introduced himself, trying to be polite. he seemed sweet enough, but you wished you were doing anything but talking to a flirty guy right now.
"i'm y/n." you replied, struggling to maintain your sanity and composure with the alcohol flowing in your veins. you kept up conversation for a bit longer, making an excuse that your friend was sick so you could finally make your escape.
finding your best friend, yunah, you tapped her shoulder to get her attention away from the music.
"y/n? what's up?" she grabbed your hand as she spoke, swinging it back and forth drunkenly. you smiled, gesturing to the back door.
"gonna go sit outside, need some air." she nodded and waved as you walked away.
what neither of you saw was sunghoon. he'd arrived not more than 15 minutes ago, with his friends jake and heeseung.
"dude, is that who i think it is?" jake blurted the moment they walked through the door. the 3 boys watched you talk to some taller guy with dark blue hair. sunghoon wished he didn't care, but truthfully he couldn't look away.
you were beautiful, wrapped in a black dress. you always looked angelic to him, always making his stomach burst with butterflies.
looking at you right now, his stomach was burning with a different emotion. he was green with envy watching another guy flirt with you when you should've been with him. the only thing that quelled his dread was the look on your face. he could see from miles away how uncomfortable you were, arms crossed tensely and face painted with a fake smile, one that didn't reach your eyes.
sunghoon wanted to be a respectful ex-boyfriend. he didn't contact you. he gave you your space after your breakup, even though he knew how stupid your fight was. he loved you, enough to respect what you wanted.
but watching you duck away from the blue haired boy and walk out the back door, sunghoon couldn't stop himself. he downed the rest of his drink, wincing at the burning feeling his throat before pushing through the crowd to get to the back door.
the night air soothed the growing dread within you a bit, but you were still left with a nauseating feeling. the same one you always felt when you talked to guys that weren't him.
slumping against the fence, you held your head in your hands, combing your fingers through your hair roughly. dizzily, you crouched on the ground, wishing you could just disappear. or even better, teleport to your bed.
“y/n?” your reaction was delayed as you slowly searched for the source of the voice.
in all his glory, park sunghoon stood before you, looking down at your crouched figure with concern.
“god, sunghoon. what are you doing here?” you groaned, sincerely wishing you were just hallucinating all of this. wishing that the first time you were seeing your ex boyfriend since the breakup wasn’t when you were a drunken mess.
god, today was seriously the worst.
crouching next to you, he reached out a hand to move some of your hair from your face. he leaned in front of you so he could see your face, while you stubbornly trained your eyes at the ground.
you were scared that if you even made eye contact with him for too long, everything would fall apart.
“are you okay? how much did you drink?” he spoke softly, his voice melting in your ears and warming your chest.
you wanted to cry, throat tightening at the feeling of him doting on you. you didn’t say anything, just nodding.
sunghoon could tell you didn’t want to be there just as much as he didn’t. normally, on a night like this, the two of you would be watching a movie together or baking or just laying in his bed and scrolling through one of your phones.
“do you wanna leave?” he asked, hand falling onto your shoulder and rubbing small circles. you nodded again, pushing your hands on the ground to stand up. you didn’t let sunghoon help you as he stood up, stumbling slightly as you stood up fully.
as the two of your walked out the back entrance, you looked at the boy in confusion as he began walking in the same direction as you.
“i’m not leaving you alone out here, let me make sure you get home.” you looked back at the ground, mumbling back a small okay and thank you, trying to ignore the words threatening to spill from your lips.
the walk to your apartment was filled with a thick silence, the only audible noises being the hum of the streetlights. A rough gust of wind caused your skin to fill with goosebumps, the cold breeze hugging your frame.
sunghoon noticed, almost quicker than you did. wordlessly, he dropped his leather jacket over your shoulders. you knew you should protest, but to be truthful, you missed him more now than ever.
when you didn't say anything or move at all, sunghoon stepped in front of you, gently unwrapping your arms and putting them into the sleeves of his jacket for you.
you stared at the cracked sidewalk, heavy tears threatening to fall from your eyes. his jacket was warm, and so big that you were practically swimming in it. his hands were warm too. and so was his voice, as he softly asked you if you were feeling less chilly.
you still refused to utter a word, not out of stubbornness but out of fear that your voice would betray you. after everything you did, after how bad you hurt him, sunghoon was still here, walking you home and taking care of you like he always did. like nothing had changed.
"y/n." sunghoon spoke a little louder, tilting your chin up so you looked him in the eye. "i said are you cold?"
the end of his question died in the back of his throat as your teary eyes came into view. he dropped his hand, eyebrows furrowing with worry.
"hey, hey, what happened?" his voice instantly softened. you couldn't do anything but shake your head, the tears finally trailing down your cheeks. sunghoon's thumb made contact with your cold cheek, wiping away the tears as the fell.
"y/n, please, tell me what's wrong." he almost sounded defeated, voice laced with concern that made you want the earth to swallow you whole. your chest ached.
"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, hoon." his head tilted in confusion at your apologies. he opened his mouth to respond.
"why are you apologizing?" you sniffled, tears still wetting your pink cheeks.
"im so stupid. i pushed you away because i just hated fighting and i thought that was the only way to make things better. but i can't-" you voice broke slightly and you took a second to breathe in. your eyes were screwed shut, refusing to look at sunghoon.
"i can't see myself with anyone else. i don't want to see myself with anyone else. any guy i talk to i just compare to you and it makes me feel sick. i know i can't but i've been trying so hard to move on because i'm scared that you hate me for hurting you and being so dumb." when you slowly opened your eyes, sunghoon pulled you into his chest.
your cheek was pressed against his white shirt, tears wetting the fabric as he held you tightly. he shoved his face into your hair, breathing in and relishing the feeling of you in his arms again.
"sunghoon?" you asked, voice muffled by his chest.
"i could never hate you." he mumbled into your hair. he pulled away and you saw him smiling, eyes crinkling as he tucked a strand of your hair away and wiped the last of your tears. your nose and cheeks were red both from the cold and from crying; sunghoon thought you looked adorable.
"for the past month haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. about us. how i should’ve fought harder to make you stay.” he laughed dryly as he spoke. “the only reason i even went to that party was because i might get to see you again.”
more than anything, it warmed sunghoon’s heart to see how much you still cared for him. all this time he was scared he was the only one still hung up on your relationship.
“i love you so much, i don’t care if we fight or if we go through a few rough patches. i only want you.” his voice softened slightly and he looked at you like you were the only two people in the world.
“you’re not mad at me?” you mumbled, hand crinkling the fabric of his tshirt as you clutched his side. shaking his head, he grinned.
“why would i be? you came back to me.” you smiled for what felt like the first time that night, hand instinctively covering your face. sunghoon pulled your hand down, wanting to see your shy smile. he loved when you were like this, shy and bashful. it made his heart nearly explode in his chest.
“can i kiss you?” he asked, intertwining your hands. you nodded gently, closing your eyes as sunghoon leant closer to you.
his lips were warm and soft, just like you remembered. your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, molding to each other perfectly. sunghoon’s arms slipped under his jacket that you were still wearing, hands wrapping around your bare waist.
you were flush against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin and his teeth sink into your bottom lip. as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, you swore to yourself that you’d never let park sunghoon go again.
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