#you never know what someone is going through and what writing helps them with… no matter if it’s smut or not

[ellieputellas]

can you write roommate!alexia smut

caught in the act | a. putellas x reader

— You catch your roommate Alexia touching herself to your photos.

tags: roommate!Alexia, barçaB!reader, smut, masturbation, mentions of fingering, mention of age gap, a bit of degradation and dirty talk, not proofread 🔞 wc: 2k+

Alexia hated having you as a roommate.

It wasn't because of the fact that you had a bad habit of putting off washing the dishes until the next morning; she learned to deal with it and wash them for you whenever it did bother her. It also wasn't because you were always watching Netflix past midnight, at full volume while she tried to get enough sleep for early morning training the next day, fully knowing the walls between your rooms were paper thin. She's learned to fall asleep to the sound of Brooklyn 99 or whatever American TV show you were addicted to at the time. It wasn’t even the fact that she’d have to set her alarm at least 30 minutes ahead of the usual time she’d wake up just so she could force you out of bed so you could both attend your respective training sessions on time.

Instead, she hated how oblivious and clueless you were to how she felt about you.

Just now, there you were in the living room watching a dumb show on Netflix as you simultaneously swiped on Bumble. She hated seeing you looking at other girls, or even getting all dolled up for dates with other girls.

She knew your type. You liked tall, fellow athletes with great style. She wondered why you never noticed her when she fit your type so well. She rolled her eyes at the sight of you fiddling with the dating app and just wanted to return to her room but you already noticed her presence.

"Hey, Alexia." You said calmly. “Come over here.”

She sighed. "Yeah?"

"What do you think about her?" You said as you chewed on the chips you were loudly snacking on. (That was another thing Alexia let you get away with — snacking everywhere and anywhere leading to a mild ant problem.)

Alexia sat beside you on the couch and leaned in to look at your phone. It was someone from Levante’s B team. Alexia frowned. She had to admit. This girl was undeniably hot with her tattoos and fit body but she knew she looked just as good as this player. If not that, she sure as hell was a better player. That should have been some merit to her.

"She’s okay..." It was all she could say to you. She didn’t want to come off as the jealous roommate.

"Really? I kinda think she's smoking hot." You said with a confused look. “She’s the hottest player I’ve played against on the pitch.”

Alexia rolled her eyes and wanted to make a snide comment but let it slide.

“She asked me out after we switched shirts after our match, and I smelled her shirt and it smelled good as fuck.” You shared, making Alexia roll her eyes again. “Plus, she’s taller than I am and you know how that’s my type… but our texts have been stale and boring as fuck.”

Alexia shrugged and tried to focus on the show you were shamelessly ignoring already. “Then just don’t go out with her.”

You sighed. “Yeah… but there is this rookie footballer I matched with on Bumble, she plays for…” You continued to tell Alexia about the other girls you were talking to but she just didn’t give a fuck.

She didn’t wanna know anything about the other girls you were seeing while she’s been into you for so long.

"Anyway, can you help me pick photos from my weekend trip with Emma? She's so great at taking photos that I feel like I have to make two separate posts on instagram just to include all of my hot photos." You said before giving your phone to Alexia. "Just swipe through them and heart all the photos you like."

As soon as she grabbed your phone, she felt her body heat up. The first photo of you was you in front of the pool with your arms up, laughing gleefully. You were wearing the tiniest bikini with a bra top just big enough to cover your nipples and that incredibly skimpy underwear.

All Alexia could think about was pushing them to the side and fucking you hard with her fingers.

Alexia blinked. "You're so...." She couldn't find the words. "Naked?"

You laughed at the older woman’s reaction. "That's all you could say?"

Alexia ignored you, completely fixated by the photos of you. Alexia liked the first photo and proceeded to swipe. The second photo was you with your back turned, exposing your ass. Alexia could feel her mouth salivate as the dirtiest thoughts entered her mind. She kept scrolling, admiring every curve and crevice of your body. She loved the way your boobs spilled over your bra and the way your thong rode up your ass and accentuated your perfect hips. She loved your collarbones but she loved the thought of marking them with her mouth more.

She was practically liking every photo, unable to think objectively of what works on Instagram or whatever. She loved seeing you this exposed.

"You never dress like this usually." Alexia commented, still going back and forth with your photos. She was pretending to be analytical with your photos but her mind was just filled with obscenities.

You huffed. “You only see me in a kit or here at home when I dress like a slob. You don’t know what I dress like.”

Alexia furrowed her eyebrows. “I’ve seen you get dressed up for dates. You’re not usually so…” She shook her head. “Whatever. I never would have imagined you’d like wearing something so tiny.”

Alexia had to swallow as her mouth had been watering at the sight of your photos. You chuckled, oblivious to your roommate's reaction. "Well, you would know that I actually do love tiny swimwear if only you went swimming with us more.”

Alexia took a mental note to say yes to every opportunity to see you in a skimpy bikini. "Still, you never post stuff like this. You only ever post game photos or food photos. This is just out of character for you.” She added on. "You must be posting to impress someone, huh?"

You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes at her. "I feel like I’m just more grown now. Like, grown enough to post more skin.” You explained. “Besides, can’t I post for myself?”

Wish you would post for me, Alexia thought.

You looked over at Alexia who was still looking through your photos. "God, what's taking you so long? Mesmerized by my tits?"

"You're so cocky." It was all Alexia could say as she blushed. She felt like it was so wrong to be thirsting over her younger roommate like this but she couldn’t help it. You were exactly what she wanted.

You chuckled. "I told you. Emma took really good photos of me! I know I look hot in those."

You looked through the photos Alexia liked and realized the only photos of you she didn't like were the ones where you were covered up. You stifled a chuckle. "Okay, I guess I should post these immediately since it would be so selfish of me to deprive the world of these photos any longer."

"So arrogant." Alexia scoffed under her breath but unbeknownst to you, it turned her on. She loved it when you got all confident. It made her want to praise you and degrade you at the same time. "I'm going back to my room to review some things for some brand deal. Text me if you wanna order food or cook for dinner later."

You absentmindedly nodded as you typed up the perfect Instagram caption and chose the perfect thirst-trap song to go with the Instagram post.

Alexia headed back in her room and immediately pulled out her iPad, refreshing her Instagram feed incessantly. "C'mon, c'mon..." She muttered under her breath. "Just post already."

Finally, your post popped up.

Alexia felt like she couldn't breathe as she was finally able to get a better look at them through the bigger screen. She was finally free to zoom in to your perfectly shaped tits without worrying you'd see. She bit her lip.

It was almost a built-in instinct or bodily response to her the way she immediately positioned herself in front of her iPad; she wasted no time. She propped the device on her bed, blasted a song loud enough to mask her noise, swiftly took off her bottoms, and eventually, guided her hands to feel her own slick with her fingers. She was soaked already just from seeing you.

"Fuck," She muttered as she began rubbing herself, looking at the photo of you on her device. She wished she could have a gigantic TV screen just so she could see more of you at a bigger scale. She wanted to be overwhelmed by the sight of you — to be consumed by your beauty.

She rubbed her clit in circles as she kept her eyes glued on the screen. She cursed again. She thought about your tits. She wondered how they'd feel in her hands. She wanted to feel the softness against her rough and imposing hands; she wanted to know if that kind of touch would make you whimper. She wondered what colors your nipples were and how they'd look and feel... and taste. She so badly wanted to push her tongue against them.

Her legs shivered as she imagined taking your breast in her mouth, sucking on it mercilessly as you moaned under her.

In reality, Alexia was alone in the darkness of her room — her tanned skin illuminated by the sole source of light from her device that blasted music to mask her grunts and the obscene sounds of her wetness.

But in her imagination, Alexia was in your room on top of you, sucking on your breasts as she positioned her knee against your core. In her imagination, you loved to beg and whine. So there you were, underneath her, squirming as she sucked on your nipple and used her hands to play with the other one. She just could tell you were the sensitive type and the idea of you almost teary-eyed due to sheer pleasure caused by her made her even wetter.

She opened her eyes once again to catch a glimpse of you in that one photo where you had a serious face as you slightly bent over. She groaned as she caught sight once again of the flesh of your boobs pressing against the fabric of your bikini. "Fucking whore." It escaped her mouth in a grunt.

In her imagination, you were dressed in the same skimpy bikini. She had your bra cups pushed to the side to grant her easy access to lick all over your boobs, leaving the occasional mark whenever she desired.

"Please, Alexia." She could practically hear your voice say it. "Fuck me now."

Alexia plunged her fingers into her cunt, causing her to grunt loudly as she pumped in and out of herself as mercilessly as she would have with you.

She was fixated on the thought of her fingers thrusting so hard in and out of you that your tits jiggled with every thrust. Alexia somehow felt you were the type to moan loudly, grab your own tits, and beg to fuck her deeper.

"Alexia! Fuck me!"

"You want me so bad, huh? You fucking slut?" She groaned under her breath, almost breathless and winded from how rough she was fucking herself. "I'll fuck you so hard, you'd go stupid."

"Alexia, harder! Please!" The imaginary voice in her brain told her. It felt so realistic

"Yeah?" She called out your name, almost in the form of an animalistic grunt. "You fucking want it harder? You a fucking slut for me?"

She increased the speed of her thrusting, causing her to moan loudly in succession. "Fuck," She said, followed by calling out your name. "Tell me who you belong to."

She pumped in and out of herself, causing her to convulse in the building pressure inside her. Her eyes were shut close but the photo of you in your bikini was permanently burned inside her mind.

"I belong to you!" Her imagination called out.

"Say my name then." She groaned.

"Alexia," It sounded so soft and gentle.

"Louder." She growled as she imagined that it was your pussy she was roughly thrusting into. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she felt herself approaching orgasm. “Say it.”

"Alexia?!" It was practically an exclamation. It felt so real that your voice echoed in her ears.

As Alexia opened her eyes, she was met by the sight of you standing at the door of her room with a shocked face. Almost immediately after, Alexia moaned out loud as her orgasm arrived.

It took half a second for her to realize that she wasn't imagining it anymore. You were there, standing and watching her fuck herself while her obnoxiously larged iPad displayed a photo of you.

"Oh shit." She was in trouble.

a/n: not proofread. part 2 anyone? (also thank u for ur requests!)

[vidavalor]

<<I would also not accept Crowley hate. I just never see it.>>

Same. Yeah, it doesn't exist. A lot of people's internalized issues at work, if you ask me, as to why there's only hate for Aziraphale when there shouldn't be hate for either of them.

<<I think for that to work, you have to take Crowley as the protagonist of the story and Aziraphale as an -- um, adjunct? romantic interest? Rather than seeing them as 2 equal players in the story.>>

If you want to get really technical about it? From a writing standpoint, Aziraphale is the main character because it's his story arc we're following the most throughout the story. He is the character who will under go the most change from chronological start-to-finish in the story. He and Crowley are two halves of a whole, though, so it's a little tricky and they're closer to being co-main-characters than you might get in other stories. Inside the story, though, the characters are definitely equal partners, and I agree that it's irritating to not always see that reflected in attitudes towards the characters.

The funny thing is, though, that people who think Crowley is the sole main character are showing that they don't really know what one is and are just focused on Crowley. For reasons. I wouldn't presume to know why, exactly, but I suspect that they are likely of 'want to fuck him even though he's fictional and subconsciously hate the main character who gets to' variety. Also shows how little they know the character as Crowley would not. care. for it. if he were to learn that they were disparaging his angel.

<<the Edinburgh minisode, that make it look like Aziraphale is still toeing the Heaven line and he is the only one who still (in 1827!) has learned nothing>>

Yeah, that attitude in people is showing that they're not really putting together the minisode, imho. Aziraphale struggling with conflicts of what he's supposed to be according to Heaven versus who he really is are not the same thing as Aziraphale being on the side of Heaven. He's never been on the side of Heaven. He gave away his sword in Eden. He lied and miracled to save Job's kids. He's been badass since the start.

I think it's also a feature of some people not seeing that Aziraphale is kind of dryly bitching about his job to Crowley in 1827 more than he is actually disagreeing with Crowley and Elspeth. He lives on Earth. He knows how lunacy Heaven's ideas about things are. He's complaining to Crowley about what he's up against and getting some reassurance in Crowley's wtf that's crazy! response that he's not alone in thinking so. The moment that he learns that Dalrymple isn't just a ghoul but someone who wants the bodies for greater good reasons, Aziraphale is happy to throw over whatever Heaven nonsense he's supposed to at least pretend to believe to help. He'll always do what he can to help. It's just all very tiresome that people think Crowley is perfect. He's not always right. There also isn't always a "right" at all.

<<such as the way the f15 was shown (many people do not sense any real threat from the Metatron, don't get the "able to see/hear what's happening in the shop", don't see anything weird about Crowley letting Aziraphale go off with the Metatron, etc.>>

Yeah, this... 😂 My favorite wtf interaction that I've had here on the Tumblr Dot Com is the person who told me that Aziraphale and Crowley weren't worried about being spied on in The Final 15 and when I pointed out things like... Aziraphale, looking out the window at Our Villain, doing the downward hands of "not right now" at Crowley, and trying to get him to stop talking? I was told-- kid you not-- that he just turned his head.

The closet is a theme of the season and there's an entire foreshadowing plot with the Nazi Zombie Flesheaters about Crowley and Aziraphale being spied on through the window and people who cannot make simple connections enough to understand what's happening, so... how's that for irony? There's a whole plot about people being unable to make connections... about which this person couldn't make a connection.

I agree to some extent that it's designed to appear a certain way, with particular emphasis on Crowley acting out of character, but it's not so cloak-and-dagger that we can't see that something is amiss. The number of people who don't seem to see Crowley as acting out of character by letting Aziraphale go alone with The Being Claiming To Be The Metatron amazes me. It should be the primary question to come out of that scene. This is what we were saying above, though-- they are too focused on precious demon got his feelings hurt to notice that there is something really, really wrong with precious demon. He just sat there and let Aziraphale go alone with someone who had tried to kill him and he'd never do that of his own free will and that's somehow not the biggest point of discussion?

But this is also the same problem as most people just believing without question that it's The Metatron at the door. Sure, it might be, but they definitely gave us a laundry list of clues that suggest we should at least be questioning it. Five angels cannot recognize him and he has to get a demon to identify him but that's not Satan? Really? After a whole season of "who are you" in every other scene? And all the minisodes being about Hell? Even if it's not, the point is that it's all very weird and many people are just taking what's happening as if nothing is weird, which I find to be... well, weird.

So many people think that The Metatron was legitimately offering Aziraphale a job and everything was on the up-and-up and... why would he ever do that? He'd never offer Crowley to be restored as an angel, either. That'd collapse Heaven and Hell in a day as every demon then would demand their own status as demons reviewed. They think this is The Metatron and they still believe him, even though he just tried to murder Gabriel? I was so surprised to see the number of people who don't think Aziraphale is in any danger here and think he just got promoted when the whole season seems like it's building towards something quite different but we'll see what happens in The Finale.

The gods of the Disc have never bothered much about judging the souls of the dead, and so people only go to hell if that's where they believe, in their deepest heart, that they deserve to go. Which they won't do if they don't know about it. This explains why it is so important to shoot missionaries on sight.

Eric, Terry Prachett

[sugarverse]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader

synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!

Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.

You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.

Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried. 

He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.

You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.

MIDTERMS.

fuck.

“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-

“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave. 

You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major.. 

the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy. 

As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”

you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.

He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?

He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.

He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.

“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.” 

“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.

“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.

“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.

Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him. 

“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more. 

“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention. 

“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.

But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”

oh??

oh???

“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him. 

“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.

 “I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.” 

“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.

Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but.. 

You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”

Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean. 

“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.

He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.

You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..

Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long. 

You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?” 

“crystal, in fact, anything for-” 

smack!

“What part of  ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you’ don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?”  He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.

Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology. 

is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.” 

You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth. 

...maybe not mean enough.

He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.

“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.

You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair. 

“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had. 

You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip. 

He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?

“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.

“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.

you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,” 

You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.

“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.

“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in. 

You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.

“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?

no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.

“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.

“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.

He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.

“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.

He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.

Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones.  That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.

He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.

you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?

©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[wallabywhump]

Post Episode 8x08 CODA/Continuation

Content: Light angst, Buck spiralling, Buck's abandonment issues/running thoughts/(has ADHD), BuckTommy hints at the end.

Word Count: 1,965

Started writing this when the episode ended, please enjoy!

---

The sign goes out front of Eddie's house two weeks later, Buck helps to dig the hole. Buck helps talk to the realtor. Buck talks Eddie down from a three-bed home with an attic office in a HOA suburb and helps him find a respectably sized two bed that will leave him with money to renovate the bathroom and add a ramp up to the door.

Buck bakes a million cookies and eats them while Eddie has meetings with realtors. He sets out sweet breads and muffins when Eddie has an open house, and he happily serves them to people, "yes, there is a gluten free option! I was playing around with xanthan gum, so it shouldn't- oh, you're too kind."

All through it all, Buck focuses on Eddie, and he tries to ignore the ball of panic that's growing and growing and growing, as Eddie calls his mom and dad, and talks to Chris, and they're discussing going to view the home together and-

"I'll be there in two days, buddy!" Eddie says to Chris, a smile wide on his face while he put the autographed picture of the Hotshots cast into a wallet to keep it safe. "I can't wait to see you; we can talk without it lagging."

Buck takes a deep breath.

"Buck's not coming, LA won't survive if we both are off work."

Buck takes the butter off the heat, starts mixing in the sugar.

"I was talking it over with Grandpa, and we can go to the aquarium while I'm there. I'll even get to cheer you on in your chess match."

Chris groans. "You don't cheer during chess matches, dad, you have to be quiet."

Eddie laughs, and Buck needs to savor that sound. Needs to bottle up the sound of his best friend, and the kid he loves to the moon and back, teasing each other because he doesn't know how long he'll have this for. "Well, okay, you'll just have to teach me what to do, Mijo. I've never been to a chess match before."

The flour comes out of the microwave and Buck mixes that in, the soothing fold-fold-fold making his raging heart beat easier to ignore.

"You've never played chess before," Chris teases.

Buck spares a glance at Eddie, and he's fondly smiling at the tablet, and he says, "Well, you'll have to teach that too. Need to understand how you're winning, kid."

Buck is trying his best to be happy for Eddie, desperately putting his issues to the side, he hasn't even mentioned Tommy with all the baking he's been doing.

Eddie, graciously, hasn't mentioned how Buck has gone back to how he was the exact week after Tommy dumped him.

Or perhaps Eddie hasn't noticed with all the preparation and the legal jargon and clearing out everything to make the house look pretty for viewings, and Buck-

Buck really wants to talk to someone.

Eddie's leaving, Bobby is busy building a house, Hen, Maddie, Chimney-

Everyone's moving forward towards something happier. And Buck's stuck trying not to tie his best friend to a city with his sad puppy dog eyes and a pout, all while missing his ex so much that focusing on Eddie leaving drowns out that pain and fills it with something different.

"Buck?"

Buck jumps, dropping his spatula into the bowl. "Huh? W-What's-"

"Chris hung up, he's got school tomorrow."

Buck picks his spatula up, continues mixing his cookie dough. It's as he folds a third time that he notices he forgot the chocolate chips.

"More cookies?"

Buck forces a smile on his face, ignores the floundering puttering in his heart that tells him he needs to call someone before this becomes unsustainable. Baking isn't distracting him, it's not-

He wants Eddie to stay, he wants Chris to come home, he wants a barbecue in Bobby's backyard with his family-

He wants to call Tommy.

"It's for the viewing tomorrow," Buck says, proud of how even his voice sounds, how it doesn't even sound like a lie.

Eddie sidles up to the counter, looking into the bowl. "You don't have to try buttering up potential buyers with sugary goods. I know you set a precedent for the first one, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

Buck puts the bowl and spatula down and bumps his hip into Eddie's as he starts greasing up the pan. "If I sweeten them up, maybe they'll actually buy, and you can leave quicker."

The free-sounding tease is easy, it's easy to fake, it's been easy to fake since that day he picked up the tablet and saw the houses. It's been easy to fake since Tommy dumped him, and he had to crawl out of his home and go to work and look somewhat put together, so no-one was scared on their calls. It's been easy to fake since Abby left him at the airport, and with a home that wasn't quite his, and an uneasy feeling in his heart that she wasn't coming back. It's been easy to fake since he was sixteen years old, and Maddie was leaving and-

Maddie, Abby, Tommy, Eddie.

People leave, and that's okay, and it's selfish to force them to stay. No matter how much he wished they would choose to stay.

Buck scoops out a glob of dough and drops it onto his pan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, bud, I'm gonna have a beer while you finish with...that."

Buck sets up the mixer to bake a cake after he puts the cookies in the oven.

---

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and spirals.

The goodbye wave feels robotic, despite knowing that Eddie will be back in a week, even if it's just to start packing up his life to move it hours away. His phone sits in the dock on the dash, and Buck-

Buck doesn't have anything to distract himself from the yawning emptiness inside him.

Nothing to put his mind to, nothing to focus on, just a whole lot of nothing.

The nothing that has been eating away at every positive thought and coping skill he'd put into trying to ignore how much he missed Tommy. The way Tommy would rub his arm and pull him in for a hug when he was feeling low. How Tommy would sarcastically tease him when his anxiety spiked, until Buck couldn't even remember he'd been anxious. How they could sit in silence and not have to chat, and it was just peaceful, and it put Buck at ease, and Tommy wouldn't even mention when Buck's leg started tapping, he'd just put a hand on Buck's knee and lean his weight into-

Fuck.

Tommy would have been a rock through this, platitudes about Eddie not being dead, stop panicking. "I can fly a helicopter, babe, just say the word and you can visit."

Except, Tommy isn't his rock anymore. He's a hurricane that has Buck unmoored and swirling in an abyss of panic and loneliness and, fuck, shit, fuck, Buck has to talk to someone. Or bake something. Or go to the middle of nowhere, with no reception, and scream at the sky.

Everyone's busy. Eddie's on a plane. No-one...he has-

"Buck?"

Buck jolts, staring down at the phone now in his hand, Tommy's face filling the screen, his nose scrunched and looking confused, concerned and cold all in one expression.

So closed off.

"I-I didn't mean to call," Buck whispers, his voice weak and thready even to his own ears. "Hi. Uh, I'll just, uh, hang up."

Except Buck doesn't, he stares at Tommy and feels his heart stutter.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, and Buck watches the cold melt off Tommy's face, leaving only confusion and concern.

"What's happening, Buck?"

"I...just dropped Eddie off at the airport, and I'm sitting at the drop off spot in the taxi ranks, and-"

Tommy's confusion disappears, and his eyes soften, and he's openly concerned and it's like a knife in Buck's chest.

Buck lets out a hoarse laugh. "I've held it in for weeks, not calling, and my best friend leaves and it's like I can't help it- Jesus." Buck runs a hand down his face, he feels like a mess.

"Why did you call me, Buck?"

Because it was habit for six months straight, because every time Buck's been sad since the breakup he's had to physically remove himself from his phone to stop himself from calling Tommy, because Buck just wants to have Tommy as his, and he can't seem to move on despite everyone else seeming able to.

"Everyone else...is moving forward, making families and living their lives, but I'm-"

Buck should hang up, forget about this, say 'sorry, bye asshole', and block Tommy's number once and for all.

Except-

"I'm stuck, stuck on that day in my loft, wondering what happened and how that occurred, and all I've wanted since the day it happened was to call you and fix it or-or, I don't know...I just feel so incomplete here. Unsatisfied. Nothing-nothing makes sense."

Buck rolls on.

"And Eddie told me not to call, so I didn't, except then Eddie decided he wanted to move to Texas and I couldn't be selfish and ask him to stay, so instead I've been helping him, helping him leave my life, because then at least I helped control it."

Buck chokes up.

"Because he's an adult with different priorities, and he can make his own decisions and it's my job as a friend to support him, and I guess you'd know that too if you still talked to him, or hey, maybe he would have stayed for you." He's fucking it up, finally got Tommy on the phone and rather than giving Tommy all the reasons they could work, and he should stay, he's dumping all his fears about Eddie leaving. "And I- I'm not making sense, I'm all over the place, this is not what I wanted to say at all, I had a whole speech about how I love you, and I deserved better, and-"

"Are you safe to drive?" Tommy asks, his voice cutting through Buck's monologue.

Buck bites his lip and nods his head. Of course, Tommy doesn't want to hear about his problems, they're broken up.

"Yeah, yeah, I..." Buck sniffs, wipes at his face despite it being dry, and forces a smile on his face. "I'm just a little sad, sorry for calling."

Tommy shakes his head, and he looks like he's in physical pain, and God, Buck feels like an asshole. He's so selfish, and he should have just thrown his phone out and got a new number after the breakup if he knew he was just going to trample over boundaries.

"No, don't be s- I mean, okay, okay. This sounds like- Eddie left? No, this is a conversation for in person," Tommy sounds just as confused and lost as Buck, which isn't nice, because Buck expects Tommy to be a rock, to be steady, to be- well, that went out the window the night they broke up.

"In person?" Buck wonders aloud.

Tommy hums, and his nose scrunches up, and he puts a finger to the bridge of his nose. The video feed is shaking like the phone in his hand is shaking. Buck swallows and waits for whatever emotional turmoil Tommy is experiencing to pass.

"Drive yourself to mine," Tommy orders.

Buck stares at the screen in shock. "W-What? Tommy, I- no, I-" A taxi starts honking their horn behind him.

"Mine," Tommy repeats, sure, and despite everything it makes that emptiness in Buck feel a little smaller, like Tommy is filling it with just the promise of a conversation. "Sounds like you need to get going. See you soon, Evan."

Tommy hangs up, and Buck spirals, but he starts the car anyway and drives to Tommy's with a spark of something in his chest.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Max' older brother who charles has had a crush on since they first met, where charles figures out that older brother has been holding back in raceing so their dad focuses on him so he doesnt hurt max, and charles is in awe because older brother could have made it into formula 1 a while ago and charles doesnt think hed be able to do something like that if it were him, so charles decides to help male reader as much as he can without being noticed.

I had someone else try and write this to see if theyd been as enthusiastic as you in writing it but no its like they didnt understand the ask @/playinbillie if you want to see what they wrote. Also this was kinda one of the two stories i had for you i didnt actually know the pairing i wanted for this one so i just made it charles, but the other is a oliver x kimi x male reader.

.

Unspoken sacrifice — Charles Leclerc x male!reader

Word count— 1777

Fluff slightly angsty

The sound of the engines roaring around the track echoed through Charles' chest as he sat in the stands, his gaze fixed on the cars speeding past. But his attention wasn’t on the race; it was on him—Y/N.

Max's older brother. The one who could’ve been great.

For years, Charles had watched from the sidelines as Y/N, despite his obvious talent, kept himself from rising through the ranks of racing. Every time they’d go karting, every practice session, Y/N would leave everyone in the dust—except for Max. The family dynamic was always clear. Their dad, a former racer himself, was invested in Max. Obsessed with Max.

But Y/N? He was always the silent presence in the background, holding back in ways that didn’t make sense to Charles at first. There was something about Y/N’s racing that seemed... off. Too controlled, too careful, like he was playing a different game entirely. Charles hadn’t realized why until recently.

It was after one of the practice races, as he sat next to Y/N on the cool metal bleachers, watching Max celebrate his victory with their dad, that it clicked.

“Y/N, why didn’t you go for the win?” Charles had asked, his brow furrowing.

Y/N gave him that knowing smile, one that always seemed to hide more than it let on. “Because he needs to be the one who shines. Max... he’s the one Dad focuses on. You know that.”

Charles stared at him, confused. “But you— you could’ve taken that first place. You’ve always been better than me, better than Max.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted toward the ground, his voice quiet. “Sometimes the best thing you can do is step back.”

Charles frowned, his mind racing. “But why? Why hold back? You could’ve been in Formula 1 by now. Why give that up?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, the weight of the years they’d spent together suddenly sinking in. “Because, Charles, if I push too hard, Dad would want me to push Max harder, too. And Max isn’t ready for that. He’s not me. I’d rather see him succeed than risk seeing him burn out.”

Charles was stunned. He hadn’t realized how much Y/N had sacrificed—not just his dreams, but his entire future—for the sake of his younger brother. It wasn’t just about racing. It was about family, about love, about keeping Max safe.

And it broke Charles’ heart.

The thought of his older brother never having the chance to race for real, to chase that Formula 1 dream, made him feel a sharp ache in his chest.

"That's... that's really something, Y/N," Charles said quietly, feeling an overwhelming surge of admiration for the older brother he'd never truly understood before.

Y/N shrugged, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s what family does, right? You put them first.”

But Charles wasn’t sure if that was enough anymore.

He’d never be able to do what Y/N had done. He would never have the strength to hold back when it mattered, to throw away his own potential for someone else. Y/N had given everything, and Charles had only just realized it.

And now, watching Y/N quietly fade into the background again, Charles made a decision.

“I’m going to help you, Y/N,” Charles said suddenly, surprising even himself. “I don’t know how yet, but I will. I won’t let you fade into the background.”

Y/N looked over at him, a surprised yet knowing look crossing his face. “Charles, you don’t need to—”

“I know,” Charles interrupted, his voice firm. “But I want to.”

Y/N gave a small chuckle, ruffling Charles' hair. “You don’t have to do anything for me, kid. You’ve got your own career to focus on.”

Charles didn’t reply, his mind already planning how he could work in the shadows, how he could help his brother rise again without anyone noticing. Without Max ever knowing.

He wouldn’t let Y/N’s sacrifices be in vain.

And maybe, just maybe, they could still achieve the dream Y/N had set aside for so long.

Over the next few weeks, Charles found himself subtly changing the way he approached his time with Y/N. Every practice session, every karting weekend, he was paying more attention—not just to his own racing, but to his older brother’s every move.

It wasn’t hard to see how much Y/N was holding back. He wasn’t just playing it safe; he was actively limiting his own performance, choosing more cautious lines, braking earlier, and settling for second or third place when he easily could’ve taken the win.

It frustrated Charles more than anything. Watching Y/N squandering his potential, doing exactly what he’d done his entire life: taking a step back for the sake of someone else.

And it made Charles feel helpless. He wanted to shout, to demand that Y/N race to his fullest, that he deserved more than the life of a background player. But he couldn’t. He understood now why Y/N was doing it. He’d made that sacrifice for Max—and maybe even for their father. It wasn’t just about being in the spotlight; it was about keeping the family dynamic intact.

But Charles wasn’t going to let it go on forever.

One night, after a particularly difficult race where Y/N had barely edged out Max for a second-place finish, Charles made up his mind. He needed a plan. He needed to help Y/N, even if he had to do it in secret.

"Y/N," Charles said casually as they were cleaning up their gear, the two of them alone in the garage. Max was off with their dad, discussing strategies for his next race. "Have you ever thought about going to some of those off-season testing events? The ones where they bring in reserve drivers, or... younger talents?”

Y/N gave him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been to a few. A long time ago. But you know as well as I do, they won’t give me the time of day. Not with Max in the picture.”

“I think you’re wrong.” Charles smiled, trying to hide the excitement bubbling up in him. “What if I can get you into one of those events? Just a test run, no pressure. I’ll set it up.”

Y/N gave him a bemused look. “And how exactly are you going to pull that off? You don’t have the connections—"

Charles leaned in closer, his voice low but confident. "I do now."

For the next few weeks, Charles worked quietly behind the scenes, making calls and sending messages to everyone he knew—engineers, team managers, even his own contacts within the F1 world. It wasn’t easy. Y/N wasn’t exactly a household name, and most people were only interested in the young stars, not a 25-year-old with years of untapped potential. But Charles didn’t care about the odds.

He couldn’t let Y/N’s talent slip away, not when he knew what his brother could truly do.

It was a month later when Charles finally received the response he’d been waiting for—a private testing session for a mid-tier team looking to give fresh talent a shot. It wasn’t Formula 1, not yet, but it was a step in the right direction. A foot in the door.

He waited until the perfect moment, when Y/N wasn’t expecting it, and told him about the opportunity.

“Y/N, I got you a test with an F1 team. You’re going to drive at their private session next week.”

Y/N blinked, looking at him as though Charles had just said something absurd. “What?”

“I did. You’re driving for them next week.”

At first, Y/N didn’t believe it. He laughed, like Charles was making a joke at his expense. But the more Charles pushed, the more he explained how hard he’d worked to arrange it, how he’d bent a few rules and called in a few favors, the more Y/N’s expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to... gratitude.

But even then, Y/N hesitated. "Charles, you know I’m not—"

“You are ready,” Charles cut him off, standing firm. “I know it. I know you could’ve made it into F1 years ago if you’d wanted to. I won’t let you give up on it.”

There was a long silence. Then, slowly, Y/N nodded, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. "Alright. But you better not tell Max about this. He’ll never forgive me if he finds out.”

Charles grinned. “Deal.”

The week of the test, Y/N’s nerves were palpable, though he tried to hide them. As they stood by the track, Charles watched him suit up, a wave of pride crashing over him. His brother was about to show the world what he could really do—and no one would know who had pushed him there.

Charles knew it wasn’t enough just to get Y/N the test. The hard part was making sure Y/N knew he had someone in his corner. Someone who believed in him—not as the background player or the second-best brother, but as the talented, driven racer he’d always been.

The test went better than Charles could have hoped. Y/N drove like he was born for it. Fast, fearless, and precise, he outpaced every expectation. By the end of the session, the team’s engineers were already talking about bringing him back for more testing.

But Charles didn’t want to get ahead of himself. This wasn’t the finish line. This was just the beginning.

As they packed up to leave, Y/N clapped him on the shoulder, a grateful, somewhat overwhelmed look in his eyes.

“Thanks, Charles,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what to say... I didn’t think I’d ever get a shot like this.”

Charles smiled, the weight of the unspoken promise hanging between them. “You don’t have to say anything. Just keep driving. I’ll make sure you get there.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Y/N’s performance in the test had caught the attention of several teams, and before long, he was back on the radar. Charles helped when he could, keeping things quiet and making sure that Y/N’s success stayed under the radar. Max never knew what had really happened. And Y/N, though hesitant, slowly began to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could make it to Formula 1 after all.

But it wasn’t just about racing anymore. It was about a bond between brothers, one that went beyond the track. A bond that said: I’ve got your back, no matter what.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Roller Rink (Boss! William Afton x Fem! Reader) - FLUFF

Hello hello! I wanted to write something short and sweet to get back into the swing of things, so have a skating date with Will! Let me know what you think!

🪩song recommendation🪩

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader in her mid 20's, Will is in his 40's), not edited, the fluffiest of fluff, Reader and Will skate together at a work party

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ A03 Link!

💜 Thank you for reading! If you like my work consider supporting me by liking/reblogging/leaving a comment below! 💜

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

“Chrissy! Hey, hop in!” You call to the bubbly blonde who was already bouncing down the driveway, her skates slung over her shoulder. She piles into your Mercedes Wagon, vaulting over the middle row into the third row of seats that faced towards the back of the windshield.

“I can't believe your bosses rented out the entire Roll-A-Rama! They're so cool for letting you bring us!” One of them exclaims in the packed cab.

“Mr. Afton and Mr. Emily love to throw a good party.” You respond with a laugh. You pulled your sunglasses off the top of your head, shaking out your hair as it blew back in the breeze from the open window. You were on your way to Freddy’s annual summertime bash, your car filled with the excited screams of your friends. 

“Are we going to get to see you flirting with your man?” Your copilot teases, nudging your shoulder.

You can't help but scoff and roll your eyes in response, “my man?”

“Girl, come on! You have been in love with this man, forever! How have you not made a move yet?” Someone else chimes in from the back seat.

“Because he's my boss?” You reply through a dumbfounded laugh.

“That just makes him even hotter.” You hear someone argue in response, a collective agreement from the rest of the car.

“You guys are ridiculous.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Just try not to embarrass me too badly.”

“No promises, if he's hot I'm gonna have to say something.” 

You pull into the lot, recognizing a lot of your coworkers with their friends and family milling around in the parking lot, which appeared to be getting set up for a BBQ. “Everyone that’s drinking follow me to get wristbands!”

“Well, the party certainly has arrived.” Mr. Emily greets you all with a bright smile. “Ladies, how are we doing today?” He continues chatting casually as he checks all of your ID’s. He chuckles as he hands back the final license he had to check, “Hurricane has two r’s in it sweetheart.”  She cringes as he catches her fake. “Are you driving home?” He asks quietly.

“No, sir.” She responds nervously. He wraps the purple wristband around her wrist.

“If anyone asks, you stole it.” She nods, the look of pure shock on her face making you chuckle. “Now, which one of you lovely ladies is driving tonight.” You raise your hand. “Alright, you know the drill. Go give your keys to Will, he's going to hold them to make sure you're good to drive before you leave.” There was a hurried, excited murmur through your group, a couple elbows being exchanged at drawing too much attention.

It wasn't hard to find him, the hulking mass of man lurking by the skate rental counter was a relatively difficult sight to miss. He straightens up when he sees you approaching, you hear one of your friends let out an impressed ‘wow’ as he rises to his full height. “Do us all a favor.” She whispers to you. “Climb that man like a damn tree.”

They all hung back while you went to go talk to him. You willingly surrendered your keys to him before he even had the chance to ask. “Planning on getting into a little bit of trouble tonight, are we?” He asks with a smirk.

“Me? Never.” You pout playfully at him. “I'm hurt that you would even think that, Mr. Afton.” Your heart races as you watch his silvery eyes flicker over your form.

“You're right, a good girl like you would never cause any trouble.” Your cheeks grow warm as you try to come up with a flirty response.

“The only trouble I can see myself getting into tonight is with you.” He raises an eyebrow at you, an almost impressed expression passing over his features.

“Is that right?” He chuckles, taking a couple steps closer to you. “Careful, little lady, you're going to end up with a lot of unwanted attention from me tonight.” He chuckles.

“Who says it's unwanted?” You shoot back, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and letting your eyes wander over his strong, broad shoulders. “I'll see you later, Mr. Afton.”

“Oh, yes you will, rabbit.” He winks at you before you hurry back to your friends.

“You're seriously blind if you can't see how into you he is.” You're immediately pulled into the squealing mass of girls all fawning over how cute you would be with Will. You weren't going to lie, you were really hoping he was planning on following through on his promise to see you later.

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After grabbing some food your group headed back inside, laughing as you all laced up your skates. “Mr. Emily!” You call out to him as you see him strolling past with his wife.

“Hey honey, how are you? Everyone's having fun I hope?” He asks with a cheerful smile.

“Oh yeah, we're having a blast! I was just wondering if, um, if you've seen Mr. Afton?” Your cheeks grew warm as the question tumbled from your lips.

“Will? He's already skating.” He leans down to speak quietly. “Between you and me, I think he's looking for you.” He chuckles.

“Me?” You ask, earning a nod from Mr. Emily. “Why would he be looking for me?”

“I've heard you're quite the skater, young lady, and Will is looking for someone… well, someone who can keep up with him.” He chuckles. One of your friends elbows you slightly, arching her brow at you. You're practically pulled from the bench, getting dragged to the wall to look out over the rink floor. Sure enough, you found Will. He wore a pair of dark purple skates with bright yellow wheels, which easily stood out from his otherwise entirely black ensemble of jeans and a tight fitting T-shirt. He was skating in the middle of the rink, easily gliding around the center as he practiced a few simple warm up moves in time with the music that was playing.

“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him!” You're ushered out onto the floor, nervously cracking your knuckles as you rolled in his direction.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to join me.” He glides over to you, you thought your boss was a big man before, but seeing him wearing roller skates gave him a new, even more monstrous height.

“Mr. Emily was telling me you were looking for a skating partner…” You trail off with a coy smile.

“You think you're up for the task?” He rebuttals with a chuckle.

“With all due respect, Mr. Afton, I may be young but I'd like to think I'm pretty talented.” He offers you his hand with a gentle smile.

“Then why don't you prove it, rabbit.” Your hand slips into his. You both started off slow, just rolling next to each other at the start.

“I didn't think you'd be into something like this.” You remark casually.

“There's a lot of things you don't know about me, little lady.” He chuckles.

“I guess you're right, but there's a lot you don't know about me either.” Will’s hand comes to the small of your back as he carefully steps around you, avoiding your coworker that was sprawled out on the floor after slipping on his skates.

“I know a lot more than you think, rabbit.” You barely caught his response, the feeling of his hand burning against your skin.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenge.

“Well…” he pauses for a second to think. You had found yourself drifting closer to him the longer you skated. Your awkward gliding side by side now turning more into a synchronized strut as you allow yourself to bump into his side. His hand slides across your back, wrapping securely around your waist as he keeps you tucked safely into his side. “I know that you don't like crowds, you prefer colder weather because you always get so, adorably excited whenever you can start wearing sweaters again… and don't think I haven't noticed your little Fizzy-Faz obsession.” He finishes with a laugh.

“What flavor-” You're cut off as he suddenly stops down to bring his face closer to yours.

“Cherry, because it always stains your lips the prettiest shade of pink.” He shoots you a playful smirk, noticing your flustered expression. You perk up when the music changes, Will glances at you curiously.

“I love this song!” You exclaim giddily. One of your friends whips past you, spinning and dancing along to the beat.

“You want to go join your friends?” He asks, you could hear the twinge of disappointment in his voice.

“If it’s all the same to you Mr. Afton… I’d like to stay here with you.” A smile slowly stretches across his features.

“You can call me Will, sweetheart.” He responds with a chuckle. “And I’d love to have a pretty little thing like you on my arm all night.”

“Dance with me, then.” You insist with a coy smile.

“Don't have to tell me twice.” He smiles. He maneuvers himself behind you, his hands coming to rest on the curves of your waist as he allows you to take the lead. He follows you closely through some of your favorite moves, “guess you weren't all talk, were you, baby?” You smile, taking his hand in yours.

“What can I say? I found a pretty good partner.” He chuckles at your response. You squeal as he tightens his grip around your waist, pressing you into his side as he effortlessly lifts you from the ground, spinning with you in his arms. You skated with Will for hours, enjoying some intimate small talk as he wrapped you up in his arms, his scruffy cheek pressed to yours as he leaned down to whisper compliments in your ear, each one leaving you more flustered than the last. He taught you a few more complicated moves he had learned over his skating career, both of you lagging as you fell into him more often than you would care to admit. But, every time Will was there to catch you in a strong embrace. Every so often you would catch sight of your friends, all of them ecstatic that you had managed to snag some alone time with the man that seemed to occupy your every thought. Your cheeks would grow warm as they would blow kisses at the two of you, one even screaming “get it girl!” As you rolled past, Will chuckled at the passing comment.

“It almost seems like they were expecting this to happen.” He says, shooting you a knowing smirk. Your heart pounded in your chest as you glanced up at him. It was the first time tonight you had really stopped to acknowledge how handsome he looked tonight. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you, his steely gray eyes almost seemed to shimmer under the neon roller rink lights. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, muscles tensing under the delicate touch of your fingers. The musky smell of his cologne mixed with the subtle scent of cigarettes and machine oil clouded your thoughts. 

“Will, I…” you swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you try to push out the confession you had been hiding for so long.

“Alright, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!” You both stumble slightly as the lights suddenly flash on, Will catching himself on the wall, pulling you flush against his chest to keep you upright.

“You okay?” The concern in his tone made your chest tighten.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he skates towards the edge of the rink.

“Would you…” he sucks in a deep breath. “Would you like to join me for a coffee or something?” You can't help but smile at his awkward invitation. “Call me selfish, but I'm just not ready to say goodnight to you yet.”

“I would love to. However, I'm the designated driver for whichever of my girls didn't get picked up by one of your horndog chefs.” You explain with a chuckle. He carefully sets you down on the neon star covered carpet, “unfortunately, it would have to be some other time.”

“I could always help you get everyone home.” He offers quietly.

“If you don't mind being in a car full of drunk party girls.” You giggle.

“Spending time with you is worth it.” He slings a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you head to take off your skates.

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“You are huge!” Chrissy drunkenly slurs as Will slides into the driver's seat of his car. You attempt to hide your embarrassed expression, dropping your face into your hands with a laugh, Will simply chuckles at the outburst.

“Where am I headed, kiddo?” Will asks, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. She slurs out her address, Will seemingly having caught enough of it to know where he was heading. Chrissy sits forward, bringing her face next to yours in an attempt to whisper something, her lack of volume control at the moment made her attempt less than successful.

“He's seriously your boss?” You nod in response. “He's fucking hot… no wonder you want to–” You quickly clamp your hand over her mouth.

“Chrissy, you're drunk.” You laugh trying to quickly snap her off the subject.

“You're drunk!” She responds when she finally manages to push your palm away from her face. “I'm just saying, if she doesn't let you bring her home, I'm available!”

“Chrissy!” You exclaim in horror. Will snorts out a laugh at her statement.

When you finally drop her off your mind was absolutely reeling, not knowing what Will would have to say to you after listening to your friends drunk ramblings. “She's safely inside, her sister looked terrified of me.” He jokes.

“Well, it's not every day you have an incredibly handsome wall of man dropping off your drunk sister, I guess.” You froze after you registered what you had said. “I am so sorry–”

“So, you think I'm handsome?” You were nervous to look at him at first, not sure how that question was supposed to be interpreted. Your shoulders soften as you meet Will’s gentle gaze. You nod apprehensively, still too nervous to reiterate that fact out loud. “Well, if it's any consolation, rabbit…” He slides closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He gently takes your chin between his fingers, not allowing you to look away. “I think you're very, very pretty.” He growls seductively. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips come to rest against yours. Kissing Will was a lot different than how you had imagined it. He was surprisingly gentle with you, as if you were made of glass. His fingers gently kneaded against your plush waist, his other hand leaving your chin in order to cradle your cheek in his palm, his strong fingers lacing their way into your hair. You kissed him until your lungs burned, so caught up in him that you had neglected to breathe.

It takes you a moment to regain yourself. Your eyes hazy, pupils blown, Will’s chest filled with a sense of pride at the sight. “Will?”

“Yes, bunny?”

“Did you still want to grab that coffee?”

His smile widens in response, “of course, pretty girl. Anything if it means getting to spend more time with you.”

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Tag List: @vile-moss @yellowbunnydreams @spookyghostjelly @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll @astinkerofarat (if you would like to be added or removed from tag List please let me know!)

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I'm writing a novel and I'm curious if you have any resources or mods that could answer on the topic of full term pregnancy for characters with physical and mental disabilities? The character I'm writing is an amputee (both legs lost to sepsis) who struggles with psychosis/BPD and takes plethora of medications.

Would she have to go cold turkey to carry to term? Would the pregnancy have any negative effect on her physical disability? Just want to get my facts gathered before I start writing something I'm entirely unfamiliar with

Hi asker,

Some medicines are never safe during pregnancy because they have a proven high risk of miscarriage or serious risk to the developing baby.

But many more medicines are taken during pregnancy even if they can carry risk to the pregnant person or the baby. That's because they help the person using them so much, that the risk of not taking them is higher. They may modify doses or monitor themselves or the baby more often. So no, she does not necessarily have to go cold turkey to carry to term.

Some sources for more information:

Medicine and Pregnancy: an Overview by the CDC (US site)

Medicines During Pregancy on MyAlberta (Canada site)

You specifically mention psychosis, so maybe your character takes antipsychotics. There has been a lot of fear that antipsychotics can cause birth defects/abnormalities or miscarriages, but more recently many people are encouraged to stay on them while pregnant.

I haven't read fully through these, but they should be informative:

Use of Antipsychotic Drugs During Pregnancy on NIH (US site)

Antipsychotics in Pregnancy and Breastfeeding on RC Psych (UK site)

Antipsychotic Use in Pregnancy on NIH (US site).

There is no BPD-specific medication, so I can't really specify anything else. Some amputees take medications, and some don't, so I can't specify there either. If you know what your character takes, you can google their specific medication types + pregnancy. People get pregnant all the time, so this is not an uncommon avenue of thought.

Either way, this varies depending on what your character specifically takes. But ultimately, there is no absolute requirement that she must go cold turkey to carry to term.

Hope this helps,

mod sparrow

Hi!

One issue she could experience as an amputee is related to prosthesis fitting - I'll assume that she uses them since you didn't mention her being a wheelchair user. During pregnancy she'd probably gain weight, which might mean she will need to visit her prosthetist to make sure it's comfortable for her to walk in. She might also experience more swelling in her residual limbs, which basically means the same thing - depending on how much changes her body goes through, she might have to make a few trips. This is especially true if she's an above the knee amputee rather than below.

Amputee Coalition has a page on pregnancy that you can check out, with some possible timelines that are currently recommended (especially helpful since it sounds like your story is set in modern times).

Hope this helps!

mod Sasza

Hello! I'm someone with diagnosed schizoaffective disorder in remission and BPD keeps getting thrown at as a possibility for a diagnosis for me, and medication for BPD can range from nothing to a combination of antidepressants and antipsychotics, antipsychotics being front line for any psychotic symptoms or disorder. I have had doctors plan with me as the antipsychotic I am on (vraylar) is unsafe for pregnancy however olanzapine is often considered safer. Generally for someone on heavy-duty medication there is a safer drug in the same class their doctor switches them to and closely monitors their progress and health from pregnancy to breastfeeding.

-Mod Bert

[straightforpotter]

So I’ve started writing a fic where it’s going to follow James and regulus falling in love but only there nights in the astronomy tower, I don’t know if I’m going to upload it to ao3 yet so I thought I’d test it out here first, also I haven’t edited it or anything to if there’s spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes or anything no there isn’t, here’s the first chapter

Regulus sat on the ledge in the astronomy tower with his feet dangling over the edge, he was content here, he always felt content when looking at the stars.

He found Sirius first, he always found Sirius first, he knew the sky like the back of his hand and he knew exactly where to find Sirius. He took a deep breath in, held it and released it, his brother always brought up a range of different emotions staring at sadness all the way to a full rage and he didn’t have the energy to deal with that tonight.

He was just about to take another breath when he heard to door open, he held his breath begging it to be someone at least slightly tolerable but he didn’t have such luck because none other than James potter walked through the door.

“Oh sorry I didn’t realise anyone was up here” James smiled sheepishly

“Clearly” Regulus scowled

James walked further in and sat down beside Regulus

“What are you doing?” Regulus snapped

“I’m sitting,” James replied with a grin that could brighten the whole world

Looking at James felt the same as looking directly at the sun, it was beautiful and you wanted to look but look for to long and you damage your eyes, Regulus wasn’t about to let himself be any more damaged than he already was.

“Why?” Asked Regulus

“Well I came up here to look at the stars and the best way to look at them is to sit here” James’ smile never faulted, it stuck like a piece of gum at the bottom of your shoe but that was James potter wasn’t it, a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, you can never seem to get rid of him.

“Ok well be quiet” Regulus sighed in defeat

“That I can do” James replied

They sat in silence for about fifteen minutes before James started tapping his foot against the wall below them

“Potter” Regulus snapped

“I thought you wanted silence” James smirked

“It’s a bit hard to have silence when your foot won’t stop banging on the wall” Regulus snarled

“Oh right, sorry: James replied sheepishly

They sat in silence for another twenty minutes before James started tapping his hand on the metal railing in front of them

“Potter I swear to Salazar” Regulus fumed

“What am I doing now” James whined

“The tapping, stop it” Regulus spat

James stopped and they sat in silence for the next ten minutes before James started humming

“Potter!” Regulus yelled

“Are you obsessed with me or something” James laughed

Regulus groaned and put his head in his hands

“You really are insufferable, do you know that?” Regulus groaned

James merely smiled that dazzling smile of his and jumped up onto the ledge

“What are you doing” Regulus asked

“Come up here with me” James responded

“No thanks I don’t have a death wish” Regulus drawled

James jumped back down and did a little spin, it took every inch of Regulus self control not to laugh, he was not about to give James potter the satisfaction of making him laugh.

“Dance with me Regulus” James whispered

“Are you insane, what single part of this interaction has made you think I’d dance with you” Regulus uttered.

James then continued to dance around the astronomy tower, he was flailing all his limbs around without a care in the world, he looked a bit like a spider with all his limbs moving so fast it looked like there were double.

Before Regulus could help it a giggle bubbled up out of him, he slapped his hand over his mouth to hide it but the damage was done, James had heard it and he stood staring at Regulus with an awestruck expression on his face.

“Do it again,” James begged

“Not if my life depended on it” Regulus bit back before standing and storming out of the astronomy tower and back to bed.

[lemotmo]

911 8x08 thoughts and freak outs!

Okay…

Well…

WOW…

OMG!!!

What do I say about this episode? 😶

Uhm…

Well, my first reaction was this: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! 🤣🤣🤣

And I mean this in a very good way! 😏

I’m just going to start with the thing that made me go AAAAAH! In the first place:

Eddie and Chris! That scene was heartbreaking and when Brad talked to ‘Edmundo’ about his estranged son it was a great moment. Eddie has started to realise he has to act NOW, because he son is growing up without him and he doesn’t want that gap to become any wider. 😭

Side-note: Fuck the Diaz parents big time! They suck! 😠

So Eddie decides to move to Texas, which is so very much the wrong thing to do. But I get why he’s considering it. The right thing to do for him would be to go to Texas, talk to Chris and telling him he needs to come home, back to LA. But I don’t think Eddie is ready for that yet. He’ll need some time to get there, but he’ll get there in the end.

Which leads me to that one scene with Buck. And OMG! In the seven years that I’ve been here, shipping Buddie, I’ve seen a lot scenes between them that suggested something more, but it was never really anything concrete… you know? 🤷‍♀️

This scene? It was like being hit over the head with a sledgehammer. Buck just walks into Eddie’s house and Eddie’s okay with that. He’s teasing him about the tablet and Eddie lets him. They know each other through and through. And Buck’s face when Eddie told him it was in El Paso? That was interesting. And of course he wants to help Eddie. It almost feels like they’re buying a house together for a moment there. But then…

Then when Buck’s sitting on the Diaz couch (yes… hello couch theory, great to see you again! 😂), his face falls and there is something there that wasn’t there before. Guys… we just witnessed the very early beginnings of Buck’s ‘OH’ moment. Eddie making plans to move will help Buck realise just how much he truly cares for Eddie. 🥲🥲🥲

So, this is it. This is THAT scene we’ve all been hoping for.

I feel unwell.

In a good way.

The Buddie-arc has officially begun. 😋🌈😁☀️

So unwell right now.

Still in a good way.

But oh… this is going to be such a good hiatus! That scene alone will inspire so many writers to write excellent fic, it will fuel us for months and ignite the fandom to speculate and theorise. It’ll be epic! 😎

I wonder if there’ll actually be a time-jump or they’ll just pick up where they left off after hiatus. 🤔

On to the rest of the episode:

Where was the Maddie storyline they talked about?

Athena’s storyline was actually nice this time. It is entirely possible that something flew over my head when it comes to her scenes as a police officer. But to my non-American eyes, it was a nice storyline. The cart cop kid was a little naive, but he was likeable I suppose. I don’t really enjoy watching people like that on YouTube, but for the show it was okay.

I unexpectedly really enjoyed the Brad storyline. Granted, him rescuing that woman and risking hurting her? That was iffy, but 911 is like HotShots in that respect, you know? We aren’t supposed to take it all ‘that’ seriously. So I can live with that scene. I love the growth in Brad and how he talked that guy from the ledge. Do we think that scene was based on the fact that Jon Bon Jovi talked someone from the ledge a couple of months ago? I think that’s where Tim got his inspiration for this.

So overall, I really enjoyed this episode and I have to admit that I didn’t really expect too much of it. But it managed to surprise me in a few ways. But mostly that Buddie-moment… it just blew my mind. 🤯

I can happily skip into hiatus now. All is right with my fictional TV-show world again.

😎😎😎

I'm off to read the post interviews now and answer some asks in my inbox. YAY!

[burningcheese-merchant]

I know that it is highly unlikely that it is the case, but come and give it a thougjt with me (Yandere Spice with a twist).

What if: Burning Spice, despite being completely obsessive and being the sadomasochist he is, routinely cuts off the heads of animals and cookies and brings them to her the first time with a love letter (he used to be the Herald of Change, so I'd imagine he's got- and retained- some brains, enough to at least write a psychotic obsessive love letter).

Now, Golden Cheese is obviously gonna freak the f out and gape as he shoves the head into her arms (probably throw it into the air and back up in panic) while Burning Spice- though displeased at first, just grins manically at her reaction soon enough (maybe even laughing), before he grabs it and shoves the letter and head onto her hands again and leaving.

Golden Cheese, having noticed his reaction to her throwing it, becomes concerned with what he might do if she doesn't accept the 'gifts', decides to keep it (She flies hella fast and enters through her window and hides it in a secret compartment in her room, before creating a hidden room the other gifts in the future).

Now, here's the twist:

Despite the shock and horror she displayed to Burning Spice's gift, she knew that deep down... She fucking loved it. She silently revels in it, even. At having so much of the Beast- A cookiebeing you could practically almost consider primordial and all-powerful-'s attention and taking up so much of their headspace. To be obsessed over adored by someone like that, so much so that they would go out of their way to behead someone and something and write a love letter daily, just to give it to her as a gift-

In short, she absolutely loves the attention she will never say it and will keep that to her grave and Burning Spice and everyone else is none the wiser of it. Of how she'd kept every letter and laminated every single one with the care and cautiousness and love one would use when holding thin glass, of how she intentionally goes out alone every day for a few minutes just so Burning Spice would 'see an opening' and give his gift, where Golden Cheese would then act terribly disgusted and horrified, and then keep the gifts. Ignorant of how she has a room full of the 'gifts' he's given her- which she'd taken the time to personally taxiderm each and every one, before hanging it on the wall like a reward or trophy. Of how she'd come to the room every night to just adore it just the sight makes her want to coo and purr in delight for a few minutes to an hour, before going to bed and resting.

Sorry for the rambling and the long paragraphs 😅😅

This is such a horrifying (in a good way) concept that I MUST acknowledge it and give my take!!! Gonna put it under a cut because this is particularly dark

Yandere Spice basically acting like a cat is so fucking funny to me lol I love it

I'm so glad you think Spice is a smart guy due to having been the Herald of Change/History, because I think that too! He simply HAS to be intelligent, even wise to a degree. It would be ridiculous if he wasn't; being buff doesn't automatically mean you're dumb. And I LOVE the letter thing, I've always headcanoned Spice (the "normal" one, not the yandere one) as writing Golden romantic poetry (and her liking it lol. It helps win her over).

Now, with the murder gifts: of course Golden is horrified. Not only has Spice ended innocent lives, but he did it for her. In a way, it's her fault, and she feels horrible. Animal, person/cookie, doesn't matter, Spice has killed again and he gives the fruits of his sinful labor to her as a declaration of "love". It's sick. No matter how deranged she finds him, he finds a way to sink lower. (But... one thing: he never hurts birds. He has never once brought her a dead bird, because even he knows that's a step too far and she REALLY won't like it. It's the one little drop of care and tact that he possesses.)

But that twist: somewhere beneath all those layers of shock, disgust and righteous anger is... flattery. Sick, twisted flattery. There's nothing Golden loves more than being praised, than being worshiped, than being showered with attention and gifts... and Spice is doing that. He's feeding her ego, albeit in the worst way possible. And so great and terrible is her ego, no matter what she does to temper or suppress it, that somewhere deep down inside, she enjoys what he's doing. That he'll gladly kill for her. That he'll show off his hard work in search of her praise and admiration. She is a goddess and he knows it. He is giving her the adulation she rightfully deserves.

Now, of course, this contradicts her normally altruistic nature, and she has a massive crisis of conscience. She keeps everything Spice gives her, she keeps the heads and the letters and stores them all properly, because... Well, she tells herself that it's better this way. If she refused them, he would retaliate, if not against her then against another innocent. If she preserves the heads, she can later discover who they belonged to and hopefully return them to the person's family (and it was the least she could do; clean them up, give them back even a fraction of their grace and dignity...). If she reads the letters, she'll have better insight into his mind and how he thinks, and thus be able to formulate a better response to him and his behaviors. These excuses are what she mutters under her breath over and over as she sneaks the heads into her room, through the window so no one sees her. As she tidies and laminates the letters, and stores them in a secure folder that she tucks into a box under the bed (which eventually becomes boxes, the more and more letters she gets). As she expertly taxidermies the heads and places them on nice shelves in a hidden closet in her room. It's better this way. She has to do this.

...and these are all true, they really are. But at the same time... Existing alongside this pain and terror and crushing guilt, is the sick joy in knowing that she has someone wrapped around her finger this completely. And a Beast, too. The Beast of Destruction, no less. Burning Spice himself, heads over heels in love with her, willing to do anything to have her. It shouldn't please her to have a monster practically at her beck and call, but... it does. It really, truly does. And no matter how much she hates herself for it... It's never enough to make it stop.

Sometimes, she'll hint at a specific person she doesn't like - usually a known enemy of her kingdom - just to see if he'll do what she thinks he will. Sure enough, the next time they meet, he has that person's head ready for her, all but puffing his chest out in pride and grinning that hideous, face-splitting, cruel grin of his. She acts upset, but she's actually pleased to know that she was right: he WILL do what she tells him to, just to please her.

Sometimes she'll stand there admiring her ever-expanding taxidermy collection, congratulating herself on her hard work; she does a better and better job every time. (And when the guilt comes bubbling to the surface, asking her why they're still here and not with their loved ones so they can have a proper funeral, she tells it that Spice will lose it if he catches her giving them away. Or she'll be made out to be the one responsible, since she's the one who has them. Or they're dead, their souls have departed to the afterlife, what happens to their mortal vessels matters not anymore...)

Sometimes, when she's in bed at night, she'll pull out the letters and read them. Sometimes she'll read one, sometimes a few, sometimes all of them. Some are surprisingly sweet and romantic, full of oddly gentle and doting words; she can feel the warmth and affection soaked into the page. Others are downright vulgar; she feels her own face catch fire as she reads through what are obviously his fantasies, the list of ways in which he wants to pleasure her so long and graphic that she suspects he wrote them one-handed, if you know what I mean. The rest are just flat-out deranged: feverish rants about his ownership of her, how he hated and wanted to get rid of those around her, how she took everything from him (his power, his sanity, his heart, his soul) and he was willing to pardon it if she gave him everything of hers in turn. How he will never stop hunting her. How he will slaughter thousands to get to her. How he will bring the world to ruins just to have her to himself. Madness. All-consuming delusion that she fears is incurable.

But the worst part is... she doesn't know if she wants it to be anymore.

All she can do now is... hope he never finds out. Hope he never knows she feels this way. That she relishes his kills, his gifts. That she has a godforsaken trophy room now. That now she's as starved for his attention as he is for hers. (And he will. The idea is simply too tantalizing. He WILL find out eventually, someway, somehow - and when he does... Oh boy.)

TL;DR: Golden is so greedy that her greed has warped her into being as bad as Spice, at least in her own way. They probably deserve each other at this point. Pure, incorrigible arrogance and psychopathy all the way down. God/Witches have mercy on us all

[stellarbit]

1000 Follower Celebration

I never thought much of my work so I've waited to do celebrate until 1000. For those who've followed and anyone who liked, commented, or reblogged anything, here is an event as thanks. Please know that this blog and those in this fandom mean so much to me. I read every tag, comment, and reblog and they make my day every time.

If you've followed me for awhile you'll know my writing can be slow and fickle. As a thank you I am committing to fulfilling the requests I receive between November 23rd - November 30th. After that I'll be closing my requests until I work through them.

Now let's get to it!!

Some quick rules

Pick up to 3 prompts.

I'll take individual character requests or something like "members of the 501st/Bad Batch reacting to" requests as well.

I will be doing requests for Clones/Star Wars first and then any previous fandoms I've written for.

I will not be taking anon requests for this event

Let me know what character(s) you want.

If you have them, please state SFW/NSFW preferences

If you have them, please state what gender preference you have.

I retain the right to not write prompts that are uncomfortable/extreme for me.

Tell me as many details as you want, it really helps! You can DM me too if you'd like to discuss.

If you've submitted previous request you'd still like done, feel free to send it again. Tumblr has vanished some requests and I've never seen them again

Please be patient, I waited until life calmed down to focus on this event but writing takes time.

Prompt List

My favorite prompts are the personal ones. If you've been going through anything and you'd like comfort, distraction, or in character advice from your favs, I'm here for you. It's been helpful for me and I'd love to do that for you. Be as specific as you want <3

I'll take continuation requests for previous fics. (I am working on Two Faces pt 3 and aim to finish the Hound drabbles from the past, so if its for them don't you worry, just be patient please.)

Tropes

And there was one bed~

Love at first sight

Hate at first sight

Fake dating

Locked in together

Aphrodisiac

Amnesia

Sharing body heat

Kissing as a distaction

Dying confession

X denying their feelings for Y until Y shows interest in someone else.

X teaching Y something

Carrying bridal style

Confessing during fight

Romance/Fluff

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I didn’t know love until you.”

“You’d be easy to love.”

“You are my equal in every way.”

“I will never stop fighting for you.”

“If there was anyone meant for me, it was you.”

“You say you love me, but you don’t know me.” “Then let me.”

“They don’t compare to you. No one does/ever has.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you love me.”

“I could make you feel better.”

“Beautiful.”

Angst:

“We could’ve been us.”

“I don’t want your apology.”

“It would be easier if I didn’t know you.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave and then you did.”

“I feel like I’m falling apart.”

“All I’ve ever wanted is for you to see me.”

“What is it about me that isn’t good enough?”

“At least I kept my promise.”

“Does he/she/they not know about me?”

“You look exactly the same.”

Funny&Misc

“You’re family.”

“Bite me.”

“What a pretty sight.”

“Get over it.”

“I thought you couldn’t stand me.” “I lied.”

“You’re bleeding.” “No shit.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” “No.”

“I thought I was alone.”

“Stop staring at me to distract me.” “Oh, I’m not trying to distract you.”

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this.”

“Are my eyes deceiving me or is that a smile, my love?” “Oh, shut up.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen something go so wrong so fast.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” “No.”

“What kind of dumb question is that?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

"it wouldn’t hurt you to smile you know." “it will.”

“I can do it myself.”

“What a tease.”

“I’m hilarious.” “You’re traumatized.” “Is there a difference?”

“All this sneaking around is going to get us into trouble.”

LETS DOOO IT THANK Y'ALL

[silluuuu]

Keep you safe and keep you dreaming

hi friends! wrote a quick lil sickfic for ficwip's 1000-word challenge (write a fic with exactly 1000 words) that doubles as a gift to my no-longer-sick friend @anxietybard!! thank u to @toweroftunes for the beta!! pls give it a read under the cut or on AO3 <3

She hates when he’s sick, and he can’t help feeling guilty about it.

Soul tosses another tissue into the trash-can heap, watching as it tumbles down the mound of bunched-up microbes and nestles itself against the rim. He lets out a sigh that is noisier than usual, mucus corroding the sides of the exhaust pipe that is his throat.

He understands the root of her discomfort, of course. It’s not so much the present cough and sniffles as it is the memories it brings back. It’s the past that eats at her soul, for lack of a better word. Because when he’s sick, she makes herself sick with her own consumption, her own acidic bile of regrets. He knows what she sees, when he’s lying in his own bed in the apartment: the Soul of ten years prior, bedridden and feverish in an infirmary cot, looking like the first cut into an ultra-rare steak.

He tries to remember this, to empathize with this, when she’s being the way she is now, three hours deep into a WebMD rabbit hole and shoving both remedies and conspiracies in his face.

“An orange is a perfectly reasonable thing to eat when you’re sick!” she’s saying from the foot of his bed, holding a plate with a full-on pyramid of them balanced in her left hand, the other hand defensive on her hip.

“S’not the idea of oranges that’s unreasonable, it’s the fact that you’re giving me twelve ,” he grits out. He wants to lie back dramatically, but he’s too clogged up to do so. 

Many moons ago, he would’ve thought of the orange onslaught as a thinly-veiled attempt to keep Blair out of his room, having heard way too many warnings and factoids about cats and their aversions to citrus over the years. As if on cue, Blair yells out a grateful “Thaaank you~!” from the living room, her keen nose having registered the oranges’ absence.

Years prior, Blair would have been way too happy to ‘play nurse’ for him in his vulnerable state - something that had always irked Maka, obviously. To be fair, he sort of feels like having someone lie in bed with him might be pretty helpful for his recuperations, though he has a strong first choice for this assignment, and it certainly has never been Blair.

“Twelve oranges might be good for you!” Maka insists, pinking in the cheeks at his mental suggestions. Their link is always more open when he’s sick; it takes too much effort to keep his walls up that he doesn’t want to expend, and all she usually hears is vague sniffling and doom-and-glooming, so. “Besides,” she adds, suddenly serious. “Scurvy’s making a comeback.”

“You think I have scurvy? ”

“I’m just saying that an orange or twelve couldn’t hurt!” she exclaims, moving to place the plate on his bedside table. He snatches his phone off its charger just in time to avoid death by Annoying Orange, and makes good use of it to pull up the symptoms for scurvy.

As he scrolls, he starts to grin. “Hah. Maybe I caught it from you.” At her curious glance, he adds: “Apparently one of the main symptoms of scurvy is being chronically irritable.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes at him as she exits. Guilt renewed, he sends out an apology on the airwaves, one that she meets with a brush of mental fingers.

M’not going anywhere, okay? he thinks, sending the words through the gap in the door, a love letter. Promise.

There’s a sound like a sigh in her soul, followed by a montage of emotions. An old, deep, burning fear. An undying flame, smothered by time, suddenly reborn. And then - relief. Comfort. And then… guilt of her own, for being the one who needs the comfort.

Go sleep s’more , she thinks back, voice growing weaker as she heads deeper into the house. I’ll be here when you wake up.

The reciprocal I promise that she tacks on is a mere whisper of a thought, but he hears it nonetheless. It’s an effective anesthetic, lulling him into a nap.

He dreams of orange peels and dark cathedrals, the old ache across his ribs tugging at something still-unhealed in his psyche.

When he awakes, it’s to a new smell - a bowl of chicken soup, steam rising and catching the late afternoon sunlight through his window. Next to it, a cascade of saltine crackers arcs along the accompanying plate. A mug of tea sits at its side, steaming slightly as well. The oranges are still there, moved slightly back. She’s left him a tiny space on the table for his phone to sit, which he sheepishly plugs in.

He reaches out for the soup and takes a sip, the ache in his chest slightly soothed. He smiles a little, savoring it, taking in the quiet of the room, the way the steam clears his head, opens his sinuses.

Once he’s almost done, the door clicks open - she’d felt him wake up, of course.

“Is it okay?” she asks.

“S’delicious,” he says, clearing his throat a little.

“Good,” she says, business-like, taking the empty bowl and placing it on the table. And then, slightly less businesslike: “Can I come in?”

He looks up at her, gaze soft as he takes in her embarrassment, as if they haven’t been doing this for years. “Duh.”

She lifts the comforter and clambers in, getting settled and resting her head on his chest.

“You sure you wanna stay?” he asks after a few minutes, poking at her shoulder. “Might get sick.” “S’worth it,” she mutters, ducking her head. “Besides. I’ve had plenty of vitamin C.”

“You sure?” he asks. “Got some oranges I could lend you.”

She scoffs in response, squeezing at his side. 

For the rest of the afternoon, they lie wrapped in each other, comforted by the fact that, amidst the steam and the scent of oranges and the promise of not going anywhere - that suddenly, it’s slightly easier to breathe.

[tetsunabouquet]

I just saw that you also write about Diabolik Lovers??? Could I request headcanons about what it would be like to date Shuu, Kanato and Subaru? And also about what type of girl they're into? ::0

A/N: A request for my personal top 3 Sakamaki brothers? Of course, you've got great taste.

Shu -Considering he's the brother who's most prone to having pets, I feel like being an animal lovers is a trait he finds desirable in a partner as he would love to have a pet with you someday. -If you already have pets, they are a surefire tacic to wurm into this boy's heart. Sending him your endless collection of adorable snaps of your pets and you, etc, he eats it up. -Because he's incredibly lazy, he wouldn't like extremely tasking dates like a cute hiking trip. Shu's more of the type who'd get hold of your favorite movie or turn on Netflix with you in bed and getting Reiji to make your favorite snacks. -He also likes a girl who's a little playful but not completely hyper. Someone who energizes him a little more and makes him smile, but not one who pushes him too far. -The two of you exchange a lot of teasing comments and casually flirt with one another all the time. "Has someone ever told you that you look sexy when you snore, Shu?" Kanato -I feel like he's into maternal girls. Aside from his creepy thing for his mom, with his childlike tendencies and the dynamic with his brothers, you'd certainly need mother-of-several-young-children levels of patience to deal with the drama. -Kanato loves giving hugs when he's sleepy. He'll attach himself to you like you are his diabolical teddybear. -Surprisingly, he allows you to pick any sort of dating activities though if he doesn't likes it, he'll make you suggest something else. Kanato can be a little indecisive with this, you know? -Kanato also really likes girls that are a fellow 'kidult' like him and share his love for toys and sweets. I can totally see the two of you discussing doll lines, doing face-ups together and dressing up like your favorite dolls together. -The two of you will also go to every annual doll collector events and all the vintage markets. Kanato never expected to have a girl with whom he could go on shopping dates like these and he's excited for them every time. "I hate how we already spent our budget. That fish plushy looked SO cute!"

Subaru -Well, he'd like his girl to be at least be more sane then his mom. Not saying you need to be 100% mentally healthy 24/7, but having a stable sense of reality it necessary. -Bonus points if you actually know a bit about psychology and the consequences of being a KOPP (Dutch acronym meaning Kinderen van Ouders met Psychiatrische Problemen - the English translation is Children of Parents with Psychiatric Problems. So far, I've never encountered an English version of the acronym) -His choice of dates is surprisingly romantic but they're generally low-key. Like cute picnics, far away from everyone where he can just enjoy the serenity and simplicity of the way you make him feel. -He also really wants a girl who supports him, outside of his traumas and family too. Like a girl who encourages his talent for poetry and helps him come out of his shell and be confident in expressing himself outside of violent tantrums. -He loves writing about you, he really does. He actually, after a a sweet friendship, dared to confess with a love poem he sent through a xt message because he knew he'd snatch back the letter and chicken out if he actually wrote it down on real paper. "If only I weren't so craven, I'd tell you all there is resting in my soul, That your voice sounds like heaven And your smile makes me whole"

[l0verclown]

From pressured to driven Part 2

What happens when you feel pressured to do something you never thought you'd do?

Especially if 4 serial killers are the ones pressuring you.

Slight ronin x reader

| spoilers for Killer chat!!! This is part two of "From pressured to driven". As always, my writing sucks so its probably Ooc. I have no idea if i want to continue with more parts, but hey who knows.

TW: Mention of murder, going insane, light gore, SA?(forced kissing)

PSA: I don't support neither am i trying to glorify/Normalize the words mentioned above. SA should be taken serious and it is not meant to be joked around.

Part 1:

You were walking around, searching for any "victims" to kill whilst trying not to freak out by the amount of corpses were in the alley. Damm, you knew Ronin liked going on killing sprees, but this much? If you counted every corpse you have walked past, it would be already above the 20. It didn't feel right, seeing all those unfortunate souls all on the ground, but you also couldn't help continue searching because before you know you are one going to become one of them if they find out.

*Ding!*

A notification?

Dear Reader,

I heard that you were writing a book, which is pretty interesting so my congratulations for that one.

moving on, one of our best reporters, Greg, has unfortunately resigned.

So my question to you is if you are able to make five new articles before the clock hits midnight. I expect at least two articles, but my apologies if this has come to you late, but if you are able to do it, i will try my best to reduce the amount of work you already have.

I wish you the best of luck on this.

Kind regards

Your boss.

You have to be serious. Five whole articles?

Not only did you have to make five new articles, you have to find a way to pretend that you killed a person. Not only that, it was 19:21.

19:21...

Fuck.

You have 4 hours and 30 minutes before midnight. You have to find a solution, and quick. Fuck, maybe you do want to kill someone, and with someone you mean your boss or either Greg.

Greg...

Always him, the 'best' reporter in the company. Total bullshit, he was average, a total pervert even. But the fact he resigned and that you had to chase after his bullshit!?

You felt anger raising up, adrenaline rushing through your veins, the amount of stress and anger that was mixed in your body was insufferable, that if you went to a therapist, they would either send you to a mental hospital or diagnose you with whatever mental disorder is popular.

*Ding!*

Another notification..?

@BestGregg: Hey Reader! Sorry for resigning so early and sudden but i got offered a wayy better job, and i couldn't pass up on that offer. Btw make sure to finish those assignments lol and because i'm resigning, how 'bout we meet up? I mean ur kinda chill and its gonna be fun. So what do you think?

Seriously? A meet up? Who does he think he is? My dad???

@SerialMC: Uhh..

sure i guess. Can we meet up here? *Insert Purgatory location*, i'll wait for u there, I'm here with some friends but i'm sure they don't mind.

@BestGregg: Sweet, i'll be there in 10 minutes, be prepared to have the best night of ur life ;)

Not only is he a total loser, he's a total pervert too. You continued walking, your mind just being full of total bullshit right now. First, your serial killer friends want you to kill somebody, second your stupid boss wants you to write 5 articles, and third your perverted ex-coworker wants to hangout and is going to try to hit on you.

Life's been going shit these weeks, you got hit with an inspiration block which means no more idea's for your next book. You've been trying to find out on how to tell the server that you're not actually a serial killer (What will probably never happen) and now this.

You gripped the knife that you previously found tighter, resisting the urge to even throw it. You can't kill anyone, you don't want to kill anyone, but in your state, it seemed like the only solution left.

"EYY READER, WHERE ARE YOU!?"

"I have a feeling they left"

"No way, they wouldn't leave us, their friends behind, i know them."

"Hah, So they're not as tough as they seem huh?"

"Hey! Don't say that, people like us just have our own struggles. Just let us be you edgeboy"

Fuck fuck fuck.

They were searching for you, and you haven't done anything at all, and looking at the time, that stupid greg should be somewhere here now.

How the fuck did you end up in this position!? Seriously, this would've been some fun hanging out day, but it always ends up in trouble. You just wished you could bury yourself somewhere.

"Yooo Reader it's me Greg!"

How he greeted himself scared the shit out of you, you hid the knife somewhere in your jacket, so he wouldn't notice. It was pretty dark out here, but from the looks of it and how he talked seemed like he had a bit to drink.

"Oh hey.. Greg."

"Whats up with the sad face reader? Are you not happy to see me?"

"No it's just. Work and stuff.. Gotta write 5 articles.. Ha ha.."

"Awh damn, sorry reader. Didn't know i was that important to the company, i mean, being the best reporter in the department? Hell yeah!"

He continued talking about how cool, and important he was that you didn't notice that you were basically backing up into a corner because of how much he talked.

"Ohh yeah, I think you need to confess something, reader."

"Confess.. What?"

He got closer to you, basically trapping you in that corner that you went to yourself. You said you wanted to bury yourself somewhere? Guess that place is here. He leaned into your face, you could feel his intoxicated breath, it reeked of alcohol and whatever cocktails he was drinking, but he didn't seem to go away.

"Don't act stupid, i know how you've been looking at me, you like me, don't you?"

Like. Him?

You hated that man. First, he got with all your female coworkers, he's the so-called "best reporter", he acts like a total asshole, pervert, and his looks are like the devil himself tried making the ugliest person that has ever existed. Not only that, but he has so much controversy, but of course, your boss ignores it because he was a good worker.

"I don't understand? I don't like you?

"Don't be shy, i know what you want"

Before you knew it, he slammed his lips into yours, forcefully kissing you as he held you by the waist. You yelped in disgust, tears starting to form in your eyes. You hated it, you couldn't move, you felt helpless. After he was done kissing you, he looked at you with a grin and you looked terrified.

"Look, you enjoyed that didn't ya? C'monn, i know ya want more"

"And don't worry, i won't go rough on you"

Oh.

Is this your end?

No.

It is not.

You can change

Maybe they will say you became corrupted.

But was it really, if it originated from fear?

You slowly gripped the knife you hid in your jacket, and held it tight in your hand.

"You know what i want..."

You put your free hand on his chest, he leaned in, looking like he wanted to kiss you, but before you could do that, you plunged that knife right into his chest.

He screamed, but you continued. You kept stabbing him near his heart, he tried pushing you off of himself, but you were too determined to finish him. After everything he did, all you wanted to do is never see him again.

Countless screams were forming in his throat, it sounded so god awfull, but that is why it was perfect. That's what stupid, perverted good for nothing deserve. A deep plunge in the heart. At this point, you were sure the rest could've heard the screams and were probably heading your way, but you didn't care about that. For now.

You pushed his body to the ground, before gripping two hands on the handle of the knife, and plunged even harder into his chest. You dragged the knife from his chest to his intestines, before stabbing him again for countless times. You felt anger and stress slowly leave, the crimson staining you. You felt.. Weird. You did feel guilty, yes but after all he did. He deserved it. You ripped out the knife, before hearing some voices behind you.

"Oh my, So Darlin' did end up killin someone huh? And even stabbing the intestines? How gruesome, i like that"

You turned around, hearing the voices of your friends

"Oh shit... Who that guy was, he was definitely hated by them.. Look at the stab marks holy shit, reader went batshit and im here for it"

"Oh.. My, reader, how are you feeling? I don't think that guy was some ordinary guy guys.."

"... The sight is gruesome"

You laughed, you kept laughing before finally stabbing the knife into his skull. He was finally gone.

".. That guy was my ex coworker. He kept stressing me out, making flirty moves, and.. Ended up forcefully kissing me."

Angel looked at you with a mix of reassurance and a look of "I've been there", and she slowly approached you along with Misaki. Meanwhile Misaki was a bit in denial, not because of the fact that you killed him, but because what he did to you. V was crossing his arms and shaking his head, while Ronin was heading towards the guy.

".. What you did there, reader.. I, oddly relate to it. Weird creepy perverted men hitting on you while you weren't doing anything? Killing him was a good choice, reader."

Angel was quite literally an angel. She is nice, she is understanding and she can relate to anyone. You're great full you have her as a friend.

Misaki was giving you constant back pats, trying to comfort you from that guy. You noticed that she was trying to lighten the mood.

"Hey so.. That guy was a total creep, and what you did was totally valid- I mean as a pervert, what did he expect?"

You forced a laugh out of that one, it was funny but for the sake of Misaki, you cracked a laugh so that she wouldn't suspect anything. But you know she meant good, if it was up to her, she would've killed the guy in a second.

V was looking at you and the guy, sighing before muttering out a sentence.

"You finished him, not for fun or for entertainment.. But for your safety and because of fear. Not bad at all."

His words shock you, because you didn't expect him to say that at all. You didn't really speak to him, and when you did, he was always on some "I will find out who you are" shit. Guess V is able to feel some sympathy after all.

You didn't even notice the fact that Ronin was ripping apart that guy's chest to grab his heart, you were starting to hear some weird- crack and bone breaking noises, that you couldn't help but look backwards at the body to find Ronin trying to obtain the guys heart.

Eventually, Ronin had the heart in his hand, and looked at you with a smile

"Darlin', Would ya mind giving me his aorta? And it's that ugly guy's heart, which makes it 10x better. C'monn, do it for the poor little devil."

He looked at you, with that stupid little smile from the first time you kissed, the moment you began rotting and corrupting. You laughed, and took the heart. Since Ronin started talking about the Aorta that much, you decided to google search a bit just to know where it was for a moment like this (which you never actually expected to happen)

You carefully ripped some of the other pieces of the heart, accidentally deattaching the superior vena cava and some artery, but eventually you managed to remove the aorta, and handed it to Ronin.

"To my dearest devil, the one who corrupted me."

Angel looked at Ronin with a look of "What the actual fuck ronin." and he just laughed. You smiled and He gave you a hair ruffle and put the aorta in some weird place in his bag. Gross, but hey, he can do whatever he wants.

You looked at your clothes, It was basically stained red now, but your face, hands and pants were a total mess. You sighed, before thinking of a way on how to get home without getting the police after you.

" You look like a complete fuckin mess. Not that i'm complaining, but you probably are. How 'bout i give you a ride to my house, and stay there?"

You wanted to agree, you didn't mind the idea, but you wondered about the others, what about them? It would be quite rude to leave them here.

Before you could say anything, Misaki overheard the convo and made an idea.

"YOO IS THAT A SLEEPOVER I HEAR!?"

".. I'm not really fond of sleepovers."

"Maybe we could? I mean it is the best way to end the hangout"

". Fuck no, i don't have enough space for five people. And besides, i don't think anyone can survive the devils little hideout"

"Stop being edgy for once ronin, your living room is big enough"

".. Wow, guess i have no choice do i?"

"A sleepover it is, then."

You decided to take a photo of the body, and you were planning on sending it in the server. To have some more 'evidence' that you killed someone. Would your old self be proud of you? Absolutely not, but people change. You changed by being rotten and corrupted, and you wouldn't want it any other way.

weird..

You have this odd feeling that doesn't go away

It feels like a craving.

More killing, it screams your name.

You feel like killing more people.

Their agony, your pleasure.

Time to show them what you have become.

[thyras]

→ starlight

PAIRING → annatar (sauron) x f!oc!sabina

WORD COUNT → 1.1k words

WARNINGS → soft!sauron, mentions of past trauma, love confessions (if you can even call it that), giving of gifts

SUMMARY → after a life-altering event in sabina's life, she is now free to choose her path with all the knowledge of who she really is.

AUTHORS NOTE → so yes, i have given up writing a coherent story as it was stressing me out and i was pretty bored of writing the same stuff over again. i will just be posting from now on parts of their story because honestly i'm going where the inspiration takes me. i have so much already written for them that i felt was going to waste as it did not fit into a chronological order for the story. so i'm abandoning the chronological story but not the over arching story i have laid out for them. i would rather write what i am inspired to, so don't kill me for not going in order lol

SAURON X F!OC!SABINA MASTERLIST

There was a soft knock on her chamber’s door. She turned as she finished putting her other earring in. Sabina stood, gathered up her skirts, and walked over, opening the door just a crack to see him standing there. She opened the door more as he inclined his head to her softly. A smile touched her lips as she leaned against the door frame.

“Can I help you, my lord?” She said, looking down the corridor to see if someone was there. Ever since the whole ordeal by the river, Sabina had become paranoid that Olavi would appear out of the middle of nowhere and drag her back to him only to cage her once again. She had disappeared for a few days into her chambers, trying to unpack everything: seeing her mother, learning her parentage, and how her fate rested in the hands of the being that now stood at her door. 

It was a lot to take in, and Celebrimbor had been all but accepting of her absence for a couple of days. But she had to appear at the gathering tonight to see how her master’s help had provided a fruitful product. 

“May I come in?” he asked. She nodded, and he walked through, moving to stand by her bed. “Are you well?” Sabina looked at him, puzzled.

“Are you seeing if you need to manipulate me more than usual?” she scoffed. He sat down on the edge of her bed and shook his head.

“Hardly.” The aura coming off him was something she had never seen on him or in Olavi, for that matter. He was nervous about something.

“Are you scared of me?” she asked with a playful smile. He narrowed his gaze at her. 

“No,” he answered tartly. “I must admit I was completely in the dark on this one. He did not share much with me, but I caught glimpses of her when he invaded my mind to torture me.” Sauron looked away from Sabina’s amused gaze. “It was why I became intrigued with you.” Sabina snorted and went back to her vanity.

“Are you getting soft and sentimental with me, my dear Dark Lord?” He stood quickly and moved over to her, grabbing her wrist sharply and turning her to face him as his dark eyes poured into her.

“This poking of fingers is tiresome; I am not trying to deceive you or trick you.” His throat worked, and she watched his eyes soften back into their bluest shade. “I am trying to show you that I wish to right my master’s wrongs. I dare not treat you as Olavi did or how I was treated. With you—” He trailed off as her eyes widened and her throat worked. A lone tear touched his cheeks. “I feel like Mairon again; if I grasp harder onto you, it will right every wrong I have ever done.” Sabina reached up to wipe the tear from his cheek. 

“We both know that could never happen,” she whispered. “You require a peace I could never give you; I am driven by my need to seek power and control.” He moved to rest his head in her palm.

“But why could we not do that together?” he breathed softly against her wrist. “Just you and I healing this world, carving a path for the both of us to live our lives freely.” Sabina rubbed her thumb across his cheekbone as she sighed. 

Her dark desire for him was always deeply rooted, but now that she was completely free of Olavi, it had risen considerably. She could not say she loved him because love was not in her vocabulary after Olavi had forced those feelings onto her, but she could grow to learn the meaning of it—just like how her mother was still so completely infatuated with the man who bore her, even after learning who he was and why he sought her out.

“I cannot love,” Sabina whispered out. A smile touched his lips as he lifted his head to gaze into her sapphire ones.

“Neither can I,” he said softly before fixing a strand of hair that had been loosened by him snatching her arm. The magic of his touch twirling the strand back into its place sent shivers down her spine and caused her to close her eyes. Sauron leaned forward, inches away from her lips, hot breath covering her face as she felt his hand traveling up the fabric of her sleeve, tracing over the ripples of elegant fabric and golden detailing on the crimson fabric.  “But we will have an eternity to learn its meaning.”

Sabina waited for the pressing of lips against hers, but nothing came, and she could not help but feel slightly hurt by the lack of touch. Instead, she opened her eyes and watched as he produced something from underneath his gray robe. He placed the small pendant in his hands. The star-like shape on the golden chain shimmered and shone in the candlelight. “For you,” he held it out to her, and she took in its beauty. The diamonds encrusted in a star-like shape were something out of this world and, indeed, the work of a man so gifted in the art of forging. “A woman that has shown me that even in the darkest of nights, there will always be light to guide me where I need to be, my Silmë,” he breathed, and before she could say what was on her mind, he continued. “No trickery, no deception, no binding element, just a gift for a woman that I shall travel back to even in my darkest of nights.” 

He motioned for her to turn, and she did so, pulling her hair away from her neck so he could lay the necklace around her neck. He clasped it before placing his hands on her shoulders. Sabina ran her fingers across the beautiful jewels and smiled, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt his lips touch the top of her head.

“Thank you,” Sabina breathed while turning to face him. “But we may cause alarm if we are not down there to celebrate with Celebrimbor.” She said, moving away from him towards the door, a smile playing on his lips. “Surely you would want to bask in the glory of satisfaction for creating those rings,” She paused, and her eyes darkened slightly. “And taking what was his at the same time,” Sauron let a chuckle through his lips.

“You know me too well, my lady,” Sabina nodded and made her way out the door. She could not help the youthful maiden smile on her lips. She knew she could never love again, nor did she want to, but he was making it incredibly difficult not to.

Silmë - quenya for starlight

[wroteclassicaly]

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