theworldsofgala

[theworldsofgala]

when you know, you know

Read on AO3

Word Count: 7,169

Rating: T (just some smooches)

Summary: You and Garreth Weasley aren't on speaking terms, not since you were caught stealing billywig stings for him and subsequently banned from Honeydukes.

But the dawn of your sixth year brings a potion brewing contest, and you might finally have a chance to put him in his place.

A/N: Happy first birthday, Hogwarts Legacy! The HL discord server I'm in came up with the theme of One Year Later, and this is my submission. Thankful for all the lovely people I've met through this fandom, who encourage me to write every day <3

“Welcome to your sixth year of potions,” Professor Sharp says gruffly, leaning against his desk. “I hope you’re all prepared to start exploring the theories of potion composition, and have read the first five chapters of your textbook over the summer holidays as instructed.”

Sebastian groans next to you, flipping open his book.  You snort, craning your neck around the room to assess your classmates. 

Everett, Sacharissa, Andrew, Nastai, Poppy, and Grace–all of them still have the post-summer slump, faces glum as they wished to be free of the potions dungeon. At the station next to you, Leander looks ready to fall asleep.  He was practically using his fingers to keep his eyeballs open during the double potions period.

Next to Leander, you can’t help noticing Garreth Weasley.  It's unusual to see him so engaged; Garreth is normally the class clown, always trying to figure out a way to disrupt the lesson.  Instead, he’s sitting stick straight, scribbling every word Sharp had to say.  His notes were neatly organized, ingredients for the day’s brew already portioned out and chopped.

“What’s gotten into Weasley?” you whisper to Sebastian.

Sebastian scoffs. “Oh, he’s probably trying to get on Sharp’s good side, with the potion making contest coming up.”

“What contest?” You ask, albeit a bit too loud.

“I was just getting to that point,” Sharp says your name; the entire class had turned their attention to the two of you. Even Garreth was staring, despite the iciness between the two of you.  It’s been months since you last spoke, exchanging choice words in a shouting match after he’d gotten you banned from Honeydukes.  After all, he was the one who’d assured you Mr. Flume wouldn’t be home, and that it wouldn’t be too difficult to steal the billywig stings.

Nevermind that, you think, turning your attention back to Sharp’s lecture.

“Every year, I challenge the sixth year class to create a new potion,” Sharp drawls. “Many of the students who’ve won in the past have gone on to become some of the Hogwarts’s most successful potioneers.  The winner of the contest will receive after hours access to the potions classroom, unlimited usage of the ingredient cupboard, and their name included on the plaque in the trophy room.” he explains.

Sharp continues droning on about the rules; you feel Sebastian’s breath tickle your ear “Garreth’s been assuming he’ll win since we were second years,” he whispers. “I’d love to see you put him in his place.”

You swat at the freckled brunette, who lets out another audible chuckle.  Scanning the room again, your eyes briefly make contact with Garreth’s.  He looks at you with something fierce in his eyes; it’s almost threatening, you think.  He also looks a tad bit deflated, but considering the two of you aren’t friends anymore, you don’t really care to know why.

“Sure, I’ll enter.” You say loudly enough for Garreth to hear. “I’m sure it’ll be a clean sweep.”

Garreth’s eyes turn to slits before he refocuses on his notes.  His face is turning red as he scribbles on the parchment, and you can’t help feeling a bit satisfied at his reaction.  Suits him right, you think, for being such a coward. You’re going to kick his ass and get back for the ten detentions he bought you last year.

Sharp’s NEWT level class is just as painful as you’d imagined it would be.  Sacharissa nearly slices her own finger off trying to cut open a sopophorous bean, and Everett faints from the blood.  Andrew sends his own bean flying across the room, thwacking Natty in the forehead; it incites a verbal altercation that has the two nearly come to blows before Sharp can separate them.  You and Sebastian can’t help but laugh watching them, falling dreadfully behind in your own quest to brew a draught of living death.

“Look at those prats,” Sebastian nudges you. 

You look over at the two redheads adjacent to you–they’re working diligently, ignoring the dramatics of the classroom.  Garreth is clearly guiding the process, Leander eagerly observing him as he chops and stirs. They’re the only two students in the classroom even remotely close to brewing the potion correctly, and it’s a little surprising to you that Garreth would be so tame. 

He tilts his head, copper colored hair falling in front of his eyes. His hair is longer, shaggier than last year. You also can’t ignore how much larger his forearms are, probably from detentions spent lifting the cauldrons to and from the storage room. They’re thick and freckled, a dusting of hair—

Garreth turns his head, glaring at you. You’ve been blatantly staring at him for a whole minute now.

“Oi, get it together, woman.” Sebastian chides, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. “I don’t think your cauldron is supposed to be purple—“

“Dammit!” You curse, turning back to your own brew. .  Sebastian laughs as you thwack him on the shoulder, stirring your potion.  It’s no good–the brew has turned the wrong color, and now resembles a fudgy texture.

“So much for winning the competition,” Sebastian teases you.  Your face heats up with embarrassment as Sharp walks over to your cauldron, assessing your work. 

“Better luck next time, I suppose.” Sharp says gruffly, raising his eyebrows at the thick goop. 

As expected, Garreth and Leander win the day’s best brew.  It takes twice as long as usual for you to scrub your cauldron, cheeks red from both embarrassment and the extra elbow grease you have to put in.  Sebastian, despite his promises to stay as long as he can, has already abandoned you to get to lunch ahead of the rush.  At this rate, you’ll miss lunch entirely.

“You should really throw some ashwinder eggshells in there.”

Looking up, you see Garreth standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets.  In lieu of the traditional blazer, he’s gone a bit casual with a crimson and gold Gryffindor sweater.  It looks a tad tight on him, and well worn.  Likely a hand-me-down from one of his many older brothers, you think.

“Mixed with water, they’re quite abrasive.  It’ll help with the cleaning.” Garreth suggests, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder.

“So, we’re talking again.” your tone is flippant; you scrub even harder at the baked in potion caking your cauldron.

Garreth rolls his eyes, dropping his bag to the ground. “Let me help,” he says gruffly, elbowing you out of the way.  He takes a handful of ashwinder eggshells, sprinkling it into your cauldron.  You peer over the edge as he dribbles water inside.

“Now put on your dragonhide gloves,” Garreth advises. “Don’t want to get burned, do you?”

You do as instructed, slipping the gloves on.  Garreth hands you the wire brush again, and this time the sludge slides off the edges of the cauldron with ease.

“See? Not so bad.” 

You open your mouth to thank him, but Garreth has stepped away from your station.  Bag in hand, he gives you a wary look.

“Earlier, when you were staring,” Garreth trails off.

“I wasn’t staring.” you scoff.  In reality, you were , but that’s not the point.

“You were,” Garreth countered. “You weren’t trying any funny mind tricks, were you?  I’d heard a rumor that you and Sallow were trying to study legilimency–”

Eyebrow raised, you cross your gloved arms. “Why on earth would I need to read your mind, Weasley?”

“To steal my potion recipe.” Garreth blurted, eyes narrowed. “For the contest.  You’re trying to win, I overheard you and Sallow talking about entering.”

You scoff in his face. “Why would I need to steal a recipe from you ?”

Garreth straightened, pushing his copper hair out of his eyes. “Because everyone knows that I,” jerking his thumb towards himself, “am going to win.  I’ve been planning my submission since I was a first year, and I’m not about to lose to you.” 

Whatever warmth you thought Garreth Weasley was going to give you is long gone. You lean back over your pewter cauldron, scrubbing aggressively.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d stoop so low, Garreth.” You seeth. “You know what? Just for that, I am going to enter Sharp’s contest now–and I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Like hell you are,” Garreth huffs, leering down at you. You hadn’t noticed just how tall he’d gotten over the summer–

Focus, you remind yourself, eyes flitting away from his form.

“What are you two still doing in my classroom?”

You and Garreth spin around, almost knocking your cauldron over in the process.  An exhausted looking Sharp stands in the doorway, his palm on his head.

“Not you two,” he mutters. “I had a feeling the two of you would be battling it out for best brew.” 

“We were just comparing notes, sir.” Garreth says easily, backing away from you. “She needed help cleaning her cauldron.”

“Not your best work today,” Sharp reminds you, peering into your now sparkling clean cauldron. “The two of you should be off to lunch, or else you’ll miss the meal.”

“Yes sir,” the two of you chirp in unison.  Garreth takes his leave while you’re stowing your cauldron away, and he’s nowhere to be seen once you get to the Great Hall for lunch.  You want to fight, defend yourself against his accusations, but it doesn’t look like he’ll give you the chance.

His loss , you think, meandering over to your house table.  

The first month of classes has been hell.  While you’d pictured your sixth year to be quite leisurely with the extra free periods, you’ve spent every study hall cooped up in the library, buried in your books.  Despite passing last term with flying colors, it feels like you’re going to spend your entire life catching up to your classmates. You might be the hero of Hogwarts, but you still feel stupid in History of Magic, stumbling over your words.

You’re cursing to yourself as you run through the streets of Hogsmeade, trying to make it to J Pippin’s before closing.  Sharp’s potions contest has fallen to the bottom of your priorities, but the events of lunch earlier in the day have pushed you to work on your submission. You’d been sitting at the table with Sebastian and Ominis, lamenting over your shared arithmancy assignment when Garreth and Leander walked into the Great Hall, loud cheers and whoops coming from the Gryffindor table.  They were sopping wet, hair windswept, having just tested Garreth’s potion submission.

“No one will be able to beat him,” Leander had declared loudly, rustling Garreth’s long red hair. Garreth was grinning broadly, a gaggle of fifth year girls surrounding him in awe.  That alone was irksome; as if they really knew Garreth Weasley.  

“Since when did Garreth Weasley become the hottest commodity?” Ominis asked, tilting his chin in his palm.

Sebastian took a sip of his pumpkin juice, snorting. “Probably because he grew five inches over the holidays,” he joked. “Lost the pudge too.”

“Sebastian,” you warned, flicking him in the head. “Don’t be so cruel.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, shrugging. “It’s true,” he argued. “Anyways, I can’t wait to watch you put him in his place during the potions competition.  Do you have your brew ready?”

“Of course I do,” You lied, turning back to your parchment. “Don’t be silly.”

In actuality, you didn’t have your brew ready whatsoever–you’d spent the last month tinkering with several recipes, but nothing seemed good enough for submission.  With potions due tomorrow, you’ll have to spend the rest of your day working on the brew.  The rest of your classes for the day go unattended, spending the afternoon cooped up in the Room of Requirement to draft a recipe.  Nothing seems to be working, and you’re out of focus potions.  You could brew them up yourself, but perhaps some fresh air and a walk will do you good–therein, a trip to J Pippin’s was necessary.

The bell rings as you push the door in, Parry Pippin smiling at you from the register.  You entertain his small talk, questions about your summer holidays, all while anxiously checking your pocket watch for the time.  You still had your arithmancy homework, as well as a four foot scroll due in Transfiguration next week to work on–

“You haven’t run into Mr. Weasley, have you?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up at Parry. “No, I haven’t.” you say sharply, taking the carefully wrapped package full of focus potions that he’s packed into your arms. “Why would I?”

Pippin clicks his tongue. “I’m fresh out of the stench of the dead, that’s all.  Mr. Weasley was trying to purchase some more for his potions project.  Nasty business, procurement.  It’s hard to find a supplier that’ll face up to the inferi in the first place.” The register opens, and he begins counting your change. “I recommended he reach out to you for assistance.”

You blink at the shopkeeper. “Me?” 

“Well of course,” Pippin snorts. “You’re rather fearless, aren’t you?  Not that it matters, of course, he was quite put off by the suggestion.  Asked me where he could find them, and I pointed out an old abandoned treasure cave a few miles north, up in the valley.  Can always find them lurking around there.”

“I’m sorry , you directed a student to an inferi den?” You gape.

Pippin looks at you, eyebrows raised. “Don’t they teach you how to fight them and what not?  Isn’t that what Defense Against the Dark Arts is for?  Anywho, Mr. Weasley seemed rather confident in his abilities.  Think he was a bit embarrassed that I recommended he ask a girl for help.”

You block out whatever Pippin is saying, tucking the package under your arm as you leave the shop.  While it’s not your responsibility to look after Garreth (considering recent events and his rather frosty attitude towards you) you can’t help feeling a bit worried.  Most students don’t have much experience with the undead; you only have a basic grasp on battling them due to Sebastian’s shenanigans the year prior. Inferi are tough, even for most grown adults to deal with; any wound inflicted by one can render even the strongest wizard ill.  

The sun is beginning to set, and while you know you should head straight back to the Room of Requirement to work on your contest brew, you turn towards the path north.  You’re certain you’ve visited the treasure den Pippin is talking about before, and it won’t hurt to check.  If the clearing is empty, you’ve just gotten extra exercise for the day.  If not–well, you don’t want to think about that quite yet.

You’ve forgotten how long the trek to the Hogsmeade Valley is, feet aching as you stumble over the rocky terrain. You bet that even if Garreth has gone to hunt the inferi, he’s likely given up by now, gone back to the castle already.  You doubt Garreth wants to battle the inferi–he’s always had a distaste for dueling, preferring to watch everyone battle it out during Crossed Wands rather than participate.  

You swallow thickly, trying to push the image of Garreth fighting the undead out of your mind. Despite your anger towards him, you really don’t want him to go up against something he’s not ready for just to win a stupid class contest.

The sky is dark by the time you round out the hill.  From a distance, you can see the wooden arch to the old treasure den, and to your relief, nothing is disturbed. You’re about to turn on your heel to go back to the floo Upper Hogsfield when you sniff the familiar putrid stench of inferi.  Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar groan, and then anxious yelps.

“ Diffindo !  Ah, shit!” 

You drop your parcel in the long grass, disappearing into a blue wisp as you close the distance between yourself and the voice.  Of course, it’s Garreth, looking panicked and battered as he tries to slice through the inferi.  They’re not fast, but his leg is bleeding, and he doesn’t know that severing charm will do no damage to the undead.

“Garreth!” you yell, sliding through the rocks towards him.

Garreth’s eyes widen, crying out your name.  Despite his injury, he’s holding his arm out as if to shield you.  That bloody Gryffindor bravery, you think, swatting his arm away.

“Get back,” Garreth yells. “Get to Upper Hogsfield, I can hold them off–”

“Get out of the way, you idiot,” you shriek, waving your wand towards him. Depulso might be a bit extreme, but all you can think about is getting the wounded boy out of the way. As soon as you hear Garreth yelp, landing on the soft grass, you turn your attention back to the inferi, who are closing in.  

“Confringo!” you pant, unleashing fiery flames from the tip of your wand towards them. The heat of the fire has them shrieking and turning away. Several of them disintegrate, leaving behind the precious bounty Garreth had sought them out for in the first place.

It’s quiet, except for your heavy breathing and the screeches of inferi, all turning into piles of ash as you defeat them.  Once you’re sure the last one has been slaughtered, you turn back to Garreth, a few feet away in the grass.  He’s staring at you, dumbfounded, as he clutches the gash on his leg.  He’s looking rather pale, the blood seeping from his cut a strange dark color.  

“Garreth,” you breathe, falling to your knees next to him. 

“It must be infected,” he says slowly. “From the inferi.”

There’s no time to waste.  You dig through your hip pouch, pulling out one of your spare wiggenwelds.  Garreth will surely need a blood renewing potion and some more itensive healing potions when you get back to Hogwarts, but this will do for now. Pulling out the stopper, you push the vial into his hands.

“I can’t believe Pippin would direct you to an inferi den,” you snarl, tearing a piece of your cloak to make a makeshift bandage. Garreth is quietly sipping on the wiggenweld, trying not to look at the damage. “I have half a mind to report him to your aunt–”

“Don’t,” Garreth begs. “Please, don’t.  It’s embarrassing enough.”

“Garreth, you could’ve been killed.” You argue.

“It’s my own fault.” he says miserably. “Fire is what destroys inferi.  I can’t believe I fucking forgot.”

You give him a wry look. “Well, potions is your better subject.” you joke.

Garreth ignores your quip, downing the rest of the healing potion. “You came up to find me.” he points out, pushing the empty vial back into your hands. “Why?”

You shrug. “Pippin told me you didn’t want my help, and I assumed you’d go off trying to get the ingredients for yourself.  You shouldn’t go up against them alone, Garreth.”

“You fought them alone,” Garreth points out. “You could handle them.”

“Well, either I fought them, or else you’d be turning into an inferi yourself right now.” 

“Probably best to not waste my good looks on being a zombie.” Garreth jokes.  Taking note of your stern face and unwillingness to laugh, he winces. “Should we get back to school now?  Perhaps we can make it to Upper Hogsfield; take the floo from there.  But make sure to get some of that stench of the dead before we leave.”

Garreth carefully supervises you as you scoop up the murky essence into your vials; he eyes you as you tuck them in your bag.  Garreth tries to get up on his own, groaning as he balances on his good leg, swatting away your helping hand.

“Let me help you, you twat.” you urge him, slinging his arm around your shoulder.  It doesn’t do much–he really has grown, and you need to stand on your tiptoes to even support him.

The two of you stumble through the grass and you pass your sad little package on the way down.  Oh well, you think. Your potion is the least of your worries, considering Garreth is still dripping blood next to you. Despite his protestations that he’s doing fine, you know from the way he’s clutching your shoulder that he’s not.

“You’re not going to take me to the hospital wing, are you?” Garreth groans as you support him to the flickering green flame outside of Upper Hogsfield. “If you take me there, Blainey will tell Aunt Tilly, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that lecture yet.”

“I have somewhere else you can go.” you offer, biting down on your lower lip.  You’ve never invited anyone into the Room of Requirement before–Professor Weasley strictly forbade you from sharing the room, and you’ve kept it a secret from Sebastian, Ominis, and Natty for almost a year now.  But you’re sure you can’t get into too much trouble, especially if you’re healing another student.

“Do you trust me?” You ask Garreth, slipping your arm around his.

The redhead looks down at you, perhaps a bit skeptical.  “I trust you.”

“Good. Not like you have a choice anyways,” You remind him, turning back towards the flame.

“Okay, now this is truly unfair,” Garreth complains, splayed across your settee. “Aunt Tilly is officially my least favorite family member.”

You snort as you sprinkle mallowsweet into your bubbling cauldron. “Because she didn’t show you the Room of Requirement?”

“Yes,” Garreth barks. “You’re telling me I’ve been sneaking into Sharp’s office after hours just to trial potions, meanwhile there’s a perfectly good potions lab in the astronomy tower? Rubbish,” he mutters.  He picks at the piece of your cloak that you’ve tied around his thigh; it’s still bloody, and he looks peakish.

“The blood renewing potion is nearly done,” You assure him, walking away from the cauldron to assess his wound again. “Why do you need the stench of the dead so badly?” you ask, wrinkling your nose as you take off the bloody fabric. “Is it for your potion contest submission?”

Garreth swallows thickly. “Yes,” his voice is careful, trying not to give anything away.  He inhales sharply once the fabric has come off; his wound, despite the wiggenweld, still looks worse for wear. 

“Oh, come off it,” you roll your eyes, waving your wand to summon a fresh roll of linen. “Just tell me what it is. I guarantee you’re going to win anyways.”

Garreth gives you a funny look before bowling his shoulders over, letting out a loud sigh. “I’ve created a bottled tornado,” he admits, wincing as you bandage him up. “Bit of a play on the thunderbrew; you take the potion before entering battle, and you have full control of a windstorm against your enemies.”

“Is that why your hair was so fucked at lunch?” you muse. 

Garreth rolls his eyes. “It looked good, okay?”

The two of you glare into each other’s eyes for the first time in quite a while; after a terse twenty seconds, both of you burst into laughter.  

“Was it that bad?” Garreth wheezes.

You laugh, visibly shuddering. “Not that bad, actually. Those fifth years rather enjoyed it.”

Garreth rolls his eyes. “The most attention I’ve received from any of those girls, ever. Leander has been trying to talk me up to them, find us a double date.”

You’re quiet for a moment, stomach twisting with unfamiliar anxiety at the idea of Garreth and Leander sharing butter beers with those girls. Not that you care, really, but you miss hanging out around the Three Broomsticks every Saturday with Garreth.  He’d been one of your closest friends until the incident at Honeydukes, and then nothing . 

“Is that why you want to win the contest so badly?” You blurt. “For notoriety? Or just attention from the girls?” You joke.

Garreth shakes his head, shaking out his ginger mane like a lion.  Sometimes, you think it’s too fitting that he’s a Gryffindor. “Nah, not for that.”

“What for, then?”

Garreth chews on his lower lip. “Have I ever told you about my family?”

“Uh, no. Just that there’s a lot of them.” You admit, resting your palms on your knees.

“I’m one of seven siblings.” Garreth says, head falling back against a pillow. “There’s Arthur, Benedict, Cornelia, Deirdre, Edwin, Frederick, and myself.” he counts out his siblings on his thick fingers.

“Alphabetical order?” you asked, slightly amused.

Garreth rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, yes.” Your eyes flit down to his torso; the hem of his shirt has risen, exposing a freckled stomach. You think back to what Sebastian had said–how Garreth had lost his baby fat over the summer, his once soft stomach turning muscled and strong.  You try not to linger on the thatch of red hair trailing down to his waist. 

“Artie, Deirdre, and Freddie played Quidditch for the house team. Cornelia and Edwin were both prefects, and Benedict was head boy.” Garreth explains.

“A successful bunch,” you offer.

“Successful besides me.” Garreth grumbled. “Mum wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when I didn’t get prefect our fifth year.  I’ve always been middling at Quidditch too, so no hopes for the house team.” he says moodily. “Just plain, untalented Garreth. The only thing I'm even remotely good at is brewing a potion, so I've been hoping to win ever since I was a first year.  All my siblings tried, but none have won.  Thought I might get my own name out there, instead of just being the youngest Weasley.” His eyes are glued to the ceiling, but you can tell from the furrow in his brow and hardened jaw that he's frustrated.

You tilt your head, giving him a disapproving look. “I think you’re talented, Garreth.”

“I think you’re talented too,” Garreth points out. “Which is why you’re probably going to win the potion making contest.  Sharp hates me, after all.”

“I think you have a fair shot,” you argue. “You’ve spent all summer working on your potions.”

“Yes, but you’re you.” Garreth fights back. “You’ve had magic for what, a year?  And you’re the most powerful witch I know.” 

“It’s not that easy,” you mumbled under your breath, smoothing down the front of your trousers as you stand.  You step back over to the station; the blood renewing potion has finished, a thick purple sludge that leaves a metallic smell in its wake.  You pull out a clean vial, trying to ladle the necessary amount.

“Everything seems to come easy to you.” Garreth pointed out. “You defeated a troll, took town the goblin rebellion–”

“At what cost, Garreth?” you shout, closing your hand into a tight fist.  “Ow!”

Garreth shoots up, propping up on his hands to peer over at you.  You open your hand, shaking it out–you’ve shattered the vial.  Cursing under your breath, you walk over the wash basin, muttering a quick charm to get the tiny shards of glass out of your hand.

“Let me help,” Garreth pleads, hobbling over towards you.

“Get back on the couch, Gar.” You seethe, pointing across the room.  

Garreth puts his hands up, still shuffling your way.  You wag your hand; it’s still stinging, but it’s just a surface wound. A wiggenweld and a bandage will do just fine.  

“Let me,” Garreth says quietly, his tone soft towards you for the first time in ages. “It’s my fault, after all.”

“It’s not your fault,” You sigh. “It’s me, being stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. You’re the furthest thing from stupid.” Garreth assures you. “I meant to say that it was my fault you got caught last year.”

You pause.  Is he really apologizing now?

Garreth takes the roll of linen, wrapping it around your palm. “You were looking for the billywig stings for me,” he says, tearing the linen with his teeth.  He sets down the roll, tying a knot around the bandage in your palm. “I’m the reason you got caught, and you covered for me. Flume could’ve called the aurors for burglary, and I let you take the fall.”

All you’ve wanted for the past six months is for Garreth to own up to his part in you getting all those detentions and losing fifty house points. You feel a little satisfied, but at the same time sad–you could’ve been friends all this time, instead of strangers.  Losing him made the other Gryffindors go icy against you, and it drove you further into Sebastian’s arms.  While you love your other freckled friend to death, you can’t help but wonder what trouble you could’ve avoided had you not felt so isolated. 

The thought overwhelms you, and you burst into a loud sob.  

“What’s wrong?” Garreth panics.

You wipe a tear from your eyes. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing at all.” you blubber.

“It’s clearly not,” Garreth says gently.

“It’s just we’ve been avoiding each other for months,” you take in a shaky breath. “And I’ve missed being your friend.”

Garreth lets out a loud sigh, his hand trailing down to touch your forearm.  It’s hard not to melt into his warm touch.

“I’m sorry,” he admits. “I was being stubborn.  I should’ve apologized ages ago, I’ve missed you too. I was just so intimidated by you, I forgot how to be your friend.”

“Intimidated, by me?” You gape.

Garreth gives you a look, raising his thick eyebrows. “You’re the Hero of Hogwarts,” he waves his free hand. “You only just discovered magic a year ago, and yet you’re at the top of the class.  You’re the best duelist I know; you bloody saved my life tonight.”

“I’m not a hero,” your voice falters. You’re not.  Garreth would be horrified to know what you’ve done–dabbled in dark magic, taken life (even if not by choice). 

“You’re a hero to me,” Garreth murmurs.  

You look into his deep green eyes.  They’re warm and honest; the Garreth you’ve gotten used to has a cold stare, eyes flitting away from yours as fast as possible.  This Garreth makes your stomach flip, but not in an uncomfortable way.  He’d always elicited that reaction from you, from the day you’d met.  Garreth had always been cheerful and cuddly, an arm always tossed around your shoulder as you sat together or fiddling with the hem of your robe.  It had gotten to the point where you might actually believe the rumors that he'd had a crush on you, considering the way his hugs lingered or the way his eyes caught you across the classroom.

For a second, you wonder if he ever actually did have a crush on you.  You also wonder if he still might.

“You should take the potion,” you change the subject, shaking off his grasp.

Garreth obediently sits back down on the settee while you scoop the thick potion into a clean vial.  He looks up at you with a smile as you settle down next to him, as if his leg still isn’t shaking and bloody.  

“Bottoms up,” you press the vial into his hand.

Garreth takes the blood renewing potion, shuddering as the thick sludge passes through his throat.  He shakes out his hair, setting the empty vessel down on the side table.

“How do you feel?” 

“Feeling better already,” Garreth assures you, and you know he’s telling the truth.  His cheeks are reddening, the color flooding back into his face.  You look down at the gauze wrapped around his leg; thanks to the potion, the other healing potions you’d forced him to take are now kicking in. 

“You’re brilliant, you know?” Garreth murmurs. “You’re beautiful, brilliant, and so damn brave. That’s why you’ll win Sharp’s contest.”

“Will you stop saying that?” You snip at him.

Garreth gives you an incredulous look. “It’s a compliment.”

“You don’t realize how much work it is,” you say, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. “To catch up to all of you.  Having this magic, not being able to control it–it doesn’t make any of the day to day any easier.  It seems like there’s always something I have to learn, things I should know by now that I don’t.  I feel like a fraud most of the time.” you admit, tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey, none of that,” Garreth tuts, wiping at your face. “You’re no fraud.  You, my dear, are the real deal.  I’m the one bumbling around, getting scratched up by inferi–”

You shut your eyes, clutching at the hand he’s resting on your face. “I won’t let you talk about yourself like that,” you argue. The thought of Garreth, one of the most clever wizards you know, feeling inferior to his siblings is still fresh in your mind. “You’re marvelous, Garreth.  You’re one of the best potioneers here at school, and you’re going to win.”

“But what about your submission?” His eyebrows are knitted together in confusion.

You shrug. “You need it more than I do–I already have my own space here, and you deserve the recognition.”

Garreth purses his lips together. “I can’t finish mine, unfortunately. Not without the ingredients–”

“Trust me, we have plenty now.” You assure him. “I probably have the rest of what you need here,” you say, scrambling to your feet. You rush back over to the potions stand, conjuring a clean cauldron. “I’m assuming you’re using the same base as a thunderbrew–”

Garreth is over to the potions station in three quick strides, closing the distance between you.  He grabs your wrist, but his touch is soft.

“You’ll really help me?” he asks, his voice hopeful. “Even if I’ve been an absolute prat towards you for the last six months–”

“I think if last year proves anything, I’d do anything for you, Garreth.” You want to look into his eyes, but the moment feels too charged. "You were one of my first friends here, and I care about you."

Garreth’s eyes flit down to your lips. “As a friend?” The question hangs heavy between the two of you.

You shake your head. “Yes...but also, no. Not just as a friend.” you say slowly, hoping he'll understand.

Garreth doesn’t release his grip; his fingers move down, tangling with yours.  He takes a step closer and you can feel his hot breath on your cheek.  You look up at him, opening your mouth to say anything , but you don’t get the chance.  Garreth’s lips crash against yours in a tender kiss, the pad of his thumb running over the back of your hand.  You tilt your head up a bit too eagerly, your teeth clacking against his.

Garreth pulls away, and you’re momentarily mortified until he descends back upon you, this time wrapping his arms around your waist tugging you close.  Your hands are in his hair, grasping at the copper locks you’ve spent the last six months eyeing.  It’s just as soft as you thought it would be.  Sighing into his touch, you can tell the freckled boy is smiling against your mouth from the curve of his chin.  His tongue glides against your bottom lip and you grant him access, warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach as the kiss deepens.  You want more, even if you're being greedy.  You don’t want any distance between the two of you whatsoever anymore.  

Garreth pulls away and you whine at the loss of him.  He presses his forehead against yours, looking quite bashful.  The look in his eyes says everything you need to know for now.

I’m sorry.

I’ve missed you.

I have feelings for you.

“Should we get to brewing?” you ask breathlessly, gesturing down to the empty cauldron.

“Let’s. I want to get it out of the way–I think the two of us have some more catching up to do.” Garreth teases, his hands hovering over your waist.

You grin, turning your attention down to the cauldron. Garreth’s warm body encases yours from behind, listing off all the ingredients and their exact ratios.  His chin lands against your shoulder, breath tickling your ear as he whispers the instructions. It's only after he presses his lips against the nape of your neck that you slam the chopping knife down, hands shaking.

“If you keep this up, we’ll never finish.” You warn him.

Garreth’s chuckle sends a shiver up your spine. “Fine, fine.” he sighs, pressing a kiss against your cheek as he steps away. “I’ll observe some personal space for now, but the moment we’re done…” his voice trails off. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

You swat at him, rolling your eyes as he starts chopping mandrake leaves. The air in the Room of Requirement feels thick, charged with the tension between the two of you as you take turns stirring the altered thunderbrew. Before long, the cauldron is emitting sparks of lightning and gusts of wind, indicating your success.

“Back to catching up?” Garreth asks, chewing on his bottom lip as he bottles the brew.  As soon as the potion is stowed away safely, you nod, and the redhead wastes no time taking you back to the settee.

You never did manage to have the time to come up with your own potion.  Garreth had insisted on working through the night to help you come up with your own submission, just so he could win fair and square, but you'd shrugged him off.  You'd only entertained the idea of entering to compete with him in the first place.  Besides, you would rather save the precious time in the Room of Requirement for other activities.

Professor Sharp had just announced the winner of the potion brewing contest before the bell rang.  In a tired, yet unsurprised tone, Sharp announces that Garreth has won by a landslide.  The class is roaring and chanting for him; Sharp is perturbed that he’ll have to grant the budding potioneer access to his classroom and store cabinet after hours.  Nevertheless, Garreth’s name is quickly etched into a little silver tag that will be added to the plaque in the trophy room, and class is dismissed.

“I can’t believe you bungled up your potion.” Sebastian shakes his head, slipping the strap of his bag over his shoulder. 

You shrug, clutching your books against your chest. “Just wasn’t meant to be.”

“I was really hoping you’d put Weasley in his place,” Sebastian mumbles.  

You turn your head over your shoulder, eyes immediately locking with Garreth’s.  He’s standing over his cauldron, sprinkling ashwinder egg shells into the vessel as he smiles at you.  His cheeks are a bit flushed–you’re not sure if it's from the heat of the cauldron, or from the memory of the kisses you’d shared in the Room of Requirement after finishing his contest submission.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, Seb.” You assure him. “I think I’ll be putting him in his place much more often now.”

Sebastian doesn’t catch on to your innuendo, shrugging as you pass through the door.  “Fancy meeting Ominis for lunch?”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I”ll catch you both later.  I think I left my quill behind.”

Once Sebastian is past the corner and out of view, you turn back around, slipping into the potions classroom.  You were hoping for a moment alone with Garreth, but Leander’s whinging cuts the silence.  

“The two of you couldn’t stop staring at each other all period,” Leander shakes his head. “What’s going on?”

Casting a quick disillusionment charm, you slip into the store room, leaving the wooden door slightly ajar to watch the boys interact.

“Don’t worry about it, Lee.” Garreth assures him, waving his wand to rinse out his cauldron.

“Are the two of you friends again?” Leander asks. “Sallow must be pissed.”

You shuffle forward, trying to get a better look at the two of them.

“He’ll get over it,” Garreth laughs, picking up his cauldron to stack it against the rest. His shirt is rolled up above his elbows, and you bite down on your lower lip as you watch the muscles in his forearms flex.

“I knew you’d win,” Leander snorts. “You’re the best in class, everyone knows it.  You deserved it.  But honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t even enter.”

“I know,” Garreth shrugs. “But she’s smart too.  Quick as a whip, hell of a duelist.  I don’t think we ever thank her enough for what she’s done.” 

Leander scoffs. “Why are you kissing her arse? Oh no, don’t tell me you have a crush on her again.” he complains, rolling his eyes.

Garreth chuckles, walking back over to the station to pick up his book bag.  “Crush on her?  Mate, I’m going to marry that girl someday.”

Your heart stops for a moment, cheeks aflame.  Garreth had confessed his feelings to you in the Room of Requirement, after the two of you had to drag yourselves apart at the risk of taking things too far. Now that you were back in his life, he assured you that there was little chance of him ever letting you get too far away again.  You’d agreed wholeheartedly then, but your mind hadn’t even gotten to the idea of life post-school. 

Marriage .  Marriage to Garreth Weasley.  The thought of it is comfortable, like a worn in sweater or a cup of tea.  You can imagine waking up every morning to his lips pressed against your neck, encased in his warm embrace. 

Yes, you might like that.  

Even though you have a disillusionment charm on, you swear Garreth is looking straight at you through the crack in the doorway.  He has a dreamy, faraway look on his face, one that makes you want to barrel out the door and tackle him to the ground right now.

“Now you really sound like you’ve been confunded,” Leander laughs. “You’re sixteen, Gar.”

“It’s more than that.” Garreth says fondly. “I know it is.”

“Whatever you say,” Leander snorts, heading towards the door. “Coming to lunch?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Garreth echoes.  

You hear Leander grumbling to himself, his footsteps becoming quieter as he gets further away from the classroom.  Finally, you hear nothing at all except the familiar hum of the boisterous Gryffindor boy you’ve been itching to spend time with all day.

The door flies open and Garreth reaches out, tapping your shoulder.  It disarms your disillusionment charm, and you blink up at him in shock.  He’s still beaming, a toothy grin accompanied by freckled rosy cheeks.  Before you know it, the door is shutting behind you, and he’s backed you into the shelf.  The taller boy has you pinned against it, muttering a quick locking charm before he slips his wand into his back pocket.

“I hope you heard me,” Garreth murmurs, brushing hair out of your face.

“I did,” you stammer. “You’re mad, Garreth Weasley.”

Garreth grins broadly, his hair falling against your forehead as he presses his body into yours.

“Maybe,” he sings. “But you heard me.  When you know, you know.”

You have no complaints. With Garreth wrapped around you, sixth year might not be so daunting. 

[theworldsofgala]

*whispers very quietly* alpha!price with an adorable little omega who he maaaaaay have forced mated with. you were the little barista he saw every morning before he headed to work. while he doesn't see you, but follows a lovely scent to the car park behind the shop. he finds you pitifully trying to control your heat enough to drive home. his scent pulls you in and with big, glassy eyes, you near beg him to do something about all this heat in your body.

and well, price wasn't going to let you suffer.

now as you ride him on the couch during a match, his rough, calloused hand grasps your throat and he can feel the uneven scarred skin over your scenting gland. a mark he gave you <3

[theworldsofgala]

October 1st: Handjobs

PROMPT: Handjobs

PAIRING(S): Sherlock Holmes x AFAB!Reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Porn w/o plot, smut, handjob, Dom!Reader/Sub!Sherlock, ends in unprotected sex and creampie

TAGLIST: None yet

A/N: Posting a lot of my Kinktober stuff early so I can get them all done on time 😮‍💨

It was sinful, the way his body shuddered beneath your touch, fingers lingering on a well-groomed happy trail, threatening to slip under the waistband of his silk pajama bottoms. He tensed, even still, at the sudden contact of your hand on his lower abdomen. He quickly recovered his composure, and you watched as his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly, giving you an icy side eye before returning his gaze to the bright white light of his laptop screen. "I'm working."

"You're researching tobacco ash," You pointed out, slowly inching your fingers beneath the elastic of his trousers, "It's like you're purposefully avoiding me, by the way, don't think I haven't noticed." He hummed under his breath, typing something up. You slipped your hand beneath, realizing quickly that he'd forgone undergarments today, a coy smile playing at your lips as you felt him spring to life, his breath hitching as you moved to wrap your hand around his slowly hardening member-- and then he grabbed your wrist, looking down at you.

"Minx." He stated, his face inching closer to yours. "You're bored. Why are you bored at three in the morning?"

"Why are you not in bed at three in the morning?" You shot back, capturing his lips in a kiss. His grip relaxed on your hand, his eyes squeezing shut as you stroked him softly. He let out a breathy moan into your mouth, tensing under your touch. "I haven't seen you in days."

He turned to look at you as your grip on his cock tightened gently, stroking him and biting your lip as his hips jerked slightly in response to your touch, "I was working." He hissed lowly, thrusting upwards.

You smirked, pulling him into a kiss, your thumb swiping over the swollen, red tip of his member, collecting the beading precum and using it to lubricate your ministrations. "Easy," You warned playfully, the fingers on your free hand digging into his hip, keeping his in place. "Stop chasing, or I'll stop." The look he shot you was bratty to say the very least.

You smirked, pulling him into a kiss, your thumb swiping over the swollen, red tip of his member, collecting the beading precum and using it to lubricate your ministrations. "Easy," You warned playfully, the fingers on your free hand digging into his hip, keeping his in place. "Stop chasing, or I'll stop." The look he shot you was bratty to say the very least, and you relaxed your hand. "Do you want me to stop?" Watching him submit to you was always a sight to behold. His nostrils flaring, muscles rippling as he tensed, trying to stay still, your nimble fingers curled around the base of his cock, doing nothing and it always drove him insane. He shook his head, and you kissed his cheek, softly trailing your lips to below his ear. "Not good enough. Use your words."

"No. Don't-" You raise a brow, removing your hand. "-stop." Without a word, you abruptly pulled out his chair, pulling down on the waistband of his slacks to free him further. You tentatively wrapped your nimble fingers around his length, gathering your saliva and spitting on the cockhead.

"You're sensitive tonight," You murmured to him sweetly, teasing the tip lightly with your thumb, his hips jerking in response. His blue-green eyes screwed shut, fingers gripping the sides of the chair as you rolled your hand and fisted his cock. With your free hand, you opened that one desk drawer and grabbed the lube from it, squirting a generous amount onto him, twisting your hand gently.

You watched as his face twitched, always a sucker for the soft moans. His hand shot out to grab the supple flesh of your shoulder, cock twitching and pulsing under your touch. You increased your pace, biting your bottom lip. Your thighs squeezed together, desperate for friction. The groans escaping his throat were torture for you, your breathing heavy as you gripped him harder, stroking him faster. "So close- so, so close-"

"You've been so good for me," You muttered to him, "Letting me make you feel so good," You looked up at him through hooded eyes and thick lashes, slowing down your movements, "Where do you want to? I'll let you choose."

"Inside... inside, please," He practically whined. You laughed, light and melodic, your fingers wrapping around the elastic of your panties and pulling them off from under your night dress, moving to stand and straddle him, keeping a firm hold and teasing his cockhead between the lips of your dripping pussy. He jerked forward, gripping one armrest and wrapping the other arm around your waist, burying his face in the nape of your neck with a loud groan as you slowly began to sink down on his aching cock.

He was spurting inside of you before you had a chance to fully take him in to the hilt. You hummed in pleasure, relishing in the feeling of it; the power you had over him, the feeling of his hot spend filling your cunt as you slowly took him in all the way, walls clenching around him and milking him for all he had. You moaned softly as he thrusted his hips up into you, riding out his high, his loud moans muffled by the skin of your shoulder. He bit down into the soft flesh, enough to mark, enough to bruise, not enough to break the skin. You carded your fingers through his thick black curls, waiting for him to still beneath you before you grabbed hold of those same curls, firmly yanking his head back to look you in the eyes. Lovingly and breathlessly as you continued to move your hips, you pulled him into a bruising kiss, leaning your forehead against his, crooning to him,

"Good boy."

[theworldsofgala]

THE OTHER GUY PT.6 | FC43

an: and we've reached the final part of the series! i hope you guys have enjoyed this as much as i have, it was very fun to write and i can't wait to write something soon :) remember my requests are always open!!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five |

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 30,382 others

spain, i'll miss you 🥲

*tap to load more comments*

userone: spain yn was my fav yn

usertwo: is that franco? 👀

userthree: it's probably oscar or logan

oscarpiastri: i have an idea, i pay you to stay in spain for the rest of your life and you never come to the track again

logansargeant: i need her there, you're not a reliable source of gossip

ynpiastri: if you don't invite me, i have other ways of being there

userfour: franco? 👀

userfive: your honour i love them

lilyznimer: can't wait to see you again

ynpiastri: @/oscarpiastri HA SHE LOVES ME MORE THAN YOU 😹🫵😹🫵

usersix: yn, we're all here for franco confirmation. give it to us.

twitter

francolapinto

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, ynpiastri and 985,352 others

back to work, i hate this country 🌧️

*tap to load more comments*

alex_albon: next time take me to spain too

francolapinto: yes boss

userone: no yn confirmation ☹️☹️

williamsracing: franco...

francolapinto: no amount of media training will make me lie about this country

usertwo: where's yn?

userthree: we want to see FRANYN!

userfour: she's in his likes. im connecting dots.

userfive: stop being delusional, you ain't connecting shit.

twitter

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, francolapinto and 29,453 others

me when i remember that i actually have a big girl job and living off of oscar's money in his spare room isn't actually what i do with my life.

*tap to load more comments*

userone: wife

usertwo: she has a job?? i thought she just went to gp's with oscar

ynpiastri: SHE has a masters in engineering design and technology 💅

userthree: cleared

oscarpiastri: move out please

ynpiastri: no 😁

userfour: still no franco

userfive: girl they both have full time jobs

usersix: MOTHERRRRR

logansargeant: you're a psycho for bringing your laptop to the beach btw

ynpiastri: i don't think i asked for your opinion, hope that helps lo! 😘

interview with franco colapinto

twitter

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, mclarenracing and 31,439 others

supporting my favourite mclaren driver (not oscar)

*tap to load more comments*

userone: I WANT TO BE HER

usertwo: I WANT HER

oscarpiastri: funny joke

logansargeant: or is it..👀

userthree: imagine living her life

landonorris: i thought your favourite driver didn't race for mclaren [this comment has been deleted]

userfour: she's so pretty

userfive: still no sign of franyn

twitter

twitter

francolaptino

liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, ynpiastri and 924,235 others

the only women in my life btw (not that anyone asked)

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userone: oh😀

usertwo: i don't believe it

alex_albon: this guy

userthree: he's so unintentionally funny

williamsracing: how cute

imessage between logan and yn

twitter

twitter

ynpiastri

argentina

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, francolapinto and 31,435 others

would rather date traffic cone (holiday dump coming soon x)

*comments have been turned off*

offseason 2024

The golden Argentinan sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, amber glow across the quiet, coastal villa. His family home sat nestled on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the endless blue stretch of sea. The scent of saltwater drifted in on the breeze, mingling with the fragrant citrus trees that lined the garden.

You and Franco sat on a cushioned wicker sofa in the sunroom, the wide-open windows framing the breathtaking view. The room had a rustic charm—whitewashed walls, terracotta tiles, and soft, earth-toned furniture. His arm was draped lazily around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both idly scrolled through your phones, the sounds of crashing waves and distant seagulls filling the peaceful silence.

But neither of you were really focused on the phones. The fan speculations and social media drama had become a background hum—amusing, but distant. For months now, you’d both kept this secret relationship hidden, playing the game of cat-and-mouse with the public, teasing and trolling them into thinking you were still enemies.

“Do they really still think I hate you?” you muttered, your lips curving into an incredulous smile as you glanced at a fan comment. “I’ve done too good a job convincing them.”

He chuckled, his voice low and smooth as he leaned in closer to peek at your screen. “Well, you have been pretty savage online. You didn’t hold back with that last post, hermosa.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, playful. “Says the guy who told the press I’d have to beg for a date. I never forgot that one.”

He grinned down at you, his light brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “I mean, to be fair, you did tweet that you wouldn’t date me if I were the last man on earth.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Touché.”

His laughter faded, replaced by a softer, more thoughtful expression. His fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles on your arm, and his gaze shifts from the ocean outside back to you. The silence stretched out between you for a moment, and you could feel the weight of what’s unspoken.

“We can’t keep this up forever, you know,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, more serious.

You paused for a second, his words catching you off guard. You’d grown so used to the secrecy, to sneaking around and playing up the rivalry for the fans. It had become a game, but now, here in the warmth of his family’s sunroom, with the sea breeze gently ruffling your hair, the reality of your relationship felt different. Realer. More solid.

You sat up a little straighter, turning to face him fully. “What are you saying?”

He met your eyes, his lips curling into a small, meaningful smile. “Maybe it’s time we tell everyone. Stop pretending.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The thought of going public, of finally letting the world see what’s been building between you, sent a thrill through you. But it was also terrifying. What would people say? How would the fans react? You’ve been holding onto this secret for so long, the thought of exposing it felt almost... vulnerable.

Still, as you sat there with him, in this secluded little bubble away from the world, the idea didn't seem so scary anymore. It felt exciting. Liberating.

A slow, playful grin spread across your face. “If we’re going to do this, we have to do it in the most ridiculous, out-of-pocket way possible.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

You leaned back against the sofa, the sunlight warming your skin as the wheels in your head begin to turn. “Something so cheesy and over-the-top that people won’t even know if we’re serious or still trolling them.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, rubbing his chin as if considering it. “What, like one of those cringey TikTok couple challenges?”

You nodded eagerly. “Exactly. The kind of stuff that makes people cringe, but they can’t look away.”

He let out a low chuckle, clearly warming up to the idea. “You mean the ones where people do those obnoxiously cute couple things, like finishing each other’s sentences?”

You grin. “Exactly. Go so hard that no one can tell if we’re serious.”

He leans forward, grabbing his phone from the coffee table. “I like it. Let’s do it.”

You blink, a little surprised at how quickly he’s jumping on board. “Wait, right now?”

He shrugs, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why not? We’ve kept this quiet long enough. Let’s have some fun.”

Your pulse quickened with a mixture of excitement and nerves as you both adjusted your positions on the sofa, sitting up a little straighter, leaning in close to each other. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body against yours. The soft hum of the waves and the distant calls of seagulls faded into the background as the moment intensified.

“Alright,” you said, barely keeping a straight face, “let’s do this.”

He raised his phone, the camera pointed at both of you, and the screen lights up, casting a soft glow on your faces. “First question,” you began, doing your best over-the-top rom-com voice. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

He smirked, nudging you playfully. “Easy. You did.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. “I did not! That was totally you.”

The playful banter flowed easily, the chemistry between you undeniable. The air between you crackled with tension, but the laughter kept things light. Each question grows sillier than the last, your teasing jabs masking the real emotions simmering beneath the surface.

As the game continued, the joking faded. The answers become more meaningful, more intimate. He reached out and takes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and the teasing spark in his eyes shifted into something softer.

Then, as if the playful mood couldn’t hold any longer, he lowered his phone and set it down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. His gaze was intense, his eyes locking with yours in the fading sunlight. “Maybe we should stop messing around and just... tell them.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “For real?”

He nodded, his voice a little quieter, a little rougher. “Yeah. I’m tired of hiding. I want people to know.”

You hesitated for a second, the weight of the official decision settling in. But then, a surge of boldness rose within you. “Okay. Let’s do it. But first—” You held up your phone, turning off notifications before tossing it onto the sofa. “I don’t want to deal with the chaos immediately.”

He chuckled, grabbing his phone, posting the video and then,following your lead and shutting off his phone. “Smart. We’ll get spammed for sure.”

Once the phones were off and forgotten, you exchanged a glance, and then both of you dissolved into laughter, the weight of secrecy lifting off your shoulders. The relief, the excitement—it was overwhelming in the best way.

As the laughter died down, the air between you shifted slightly, becoming heavier, charged with something far more intense than before. His eyes darkened as they traced the curve of your lips, and your breath hitches, feeling the pull between you like a magnetic force. Neither of you speak for a long moment, the silence thick with unspoken desire.

Without warning, he leaned in, his hand sliding up to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing tenderly along your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation crackling in the air around you. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty sea air.

Your pulse quickened as his gaze locked with yours, and for a second, time seemed to stop. Then, he closed the gap, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, yet filled with an undeniable hunger. His lips were soft but firm, moving against yours with a heat that left you breathless.

You responded immediately, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, needing more. His kiss deepened, and the intensity built. The taste of him is intoxicating, like you had both been waiting for this moment for far too long. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, and you could feel the strength of his body against yours.

The kiss grew more urgent, your bodies pressed together as if the space between you was unbearable. His fingers threaded through your hair, holding you in place as he kissed you harder, deeper, like he couldn't get enough. You lost yourself in the sensation—the way his lips devoured yours, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, the low, barely audible groan that escaped from deep in his chest.

As you kissed him back with equal fervor, your entire body tingled, your senses overwhelmed by him—the way his hands gripped your waist, the way his lips tease and explore yours.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes, dark and full of desire, met yours, and a slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Guess I can do that more often now,” he murmured, his voice husky and low.

You smiled back, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “With my brother in that same paddock? Not a chance?”

francolapinto and ynpiastri

liked by logansargeant, schecoperez, oscarpiastri and 984,348 others

it wasn't a joke btw

*limited comments only*

williamsracing: franco...

oscarpiastri: that's my sister pal

francolaptino: oops?

logansargeant: this hurt more than my replacement

ynpiastri: shut up?

logansargeant: yes ma'am

the end.

taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn @xxx-betty @dukeofjjune @dejavuontrack @littlegrapejuice @mxdi0 @st4rgirl-ellie @dullypully @cinderellawithashoe

[theworldsofgala]

“ And we put this one here” says the man in a softer and smoother tone, with a unique timbre that contradicts his image.

His tall, muscular figure stands next to the petite one of his son, intent on watching in amazement as the eldest man platters some fruit.

“ Mom eats a lot” Megumi comments and looks up at Toji, giggling at his own words.

The right side of Toji's lips turn up, also highlighting the small scar while holding back a smile. “ Don't tell her or she'll be offended. Come.” Toji takes the little one from under his armpits and helps him wash his sticky hands.

“ What are you doing?” they both turn to you, freshly awoken from your afternoon nap. Megumi gets out of your husband's arms and runs towards you, hugging your legs.

Ever since being told he's going to have a baby sister, he's more clingy than before. Carefully, you get down on your knees and hug him, returning the same affection.

“ Why are you so cute, huh?” you ask him as you run a hand through his dark locks, then place a kiss on his chubby cheeks.

Toji moves closer to the two of you, an almost imperceptible smile on his thin lips. “Did you sleep well?” he asks as he helps you up.

You nod and sigh wearily. “ She is much more energetic these days. She won't stop moving, let alone kicking.” you complain, running a hand over your swollen stomach, and it's not long before your husband's hand does the same.

“ It must be the sugar.” he chuckles but an expression of astonishment appears on his face as he looks towards you.

“ Did you feel that?” you ask excitedly and he nods as little Megumi watches you both curiously.

Another kick is felt soon after a little harder than the first one.

“ Me too!” exclaims Megumi raising his arms to be caught. Toji takes him and places his small hand on your stomach, making him participate in that small moment.

He gasped softly when the unborn baby sister interacted with him. “ Wow, that's really cool!” he exclaims with sparks in his eyes.

[theworldsofgala]

It had been a complete accident. Truly.

Mindlessly running your hand through his hair, the tips of your fingertips unknowingly brush against the tip of his ear, and it makes him groan.

Thinking it had been out of pain, you tear your hands away from his head, eyes blinking wide. "What happened? Are you okay?"

And instead of a scowl, you find that his cheeks are multiple shades darker than usual--almost pink. He mumbles something under his breath, then shifts his entire body around so that his face is buried into your stomach, arms locked around your waist. He says something, this time so muffled you can barely hear the words they're supposed to form.

"I can't hear if you're talking into my stomach."

He says it louder this time. "...good."

"What?"

Then, finally, he whips his head just enough to meet your gaze. "It feels good."

Your brows lift, and you slowly slip your hands back into his hair. "This?"

"No--I mean, that too, but--" he's flushing brighter now, and your eyes practically sparkle at how flustered he sounds. It's a rare occurrence, but Astarion at a loss for words is something you hold dear to your heart. "--my ears."

"Your ears," you repeat, hands slowly inching to the sides of his head. You carefully trace the shape of his pointy ears, watching as he practically shudders, melting into your touch. Even your own cheeks seem to heat. "Like that?"

He wordlessly nods, opting to bury his face into your stomach again to avoid facing the power he's just given you. And you use it well, gently massaging his skin with your finger pads, drinking in the way his body reacts to your touch. "Oh my god."

Hours later, when your head lays on top of his arm and he has you close to his chest, you smile up at him cheekily.

He notices the way you're struggling to keep in your laughter. "What?"

"What does it feel like when I touch your ears?"

He nearly chokes on his own words, horrified by how upfront the question is. "It--I don't know, it just feels nice."

"Nice is an understatement."

He groans. "Please, darling, this is humiliating."

And despite the way you continue to poke fun at him and the way he feigns annoyance, whenever the two of you are alone, he always opts to put his head in your lap, and you choose to knead your fingers through his curls.

[theworldsofgala]

Karting Champions - LN

Request from @8justme and @heyheyheyggg - the Quadrant karting video with Keegan but with Lando's girlfriend taking to the challenge too.

No part 2 requests please

They'd filmed the content for Keegan's video. But making an edition of the video with y/n which is actually for Lando's channel instead just as something to document her first karting experience and see if she can make the same achievement.

"Can you please be careful?" Lando mumbles zipping up the black racing suit.

"You have literally no faith in me." Y/n pouts making him grin at her.

"I have faith in you. You have a great teacher." Lando smirks though he's somewhat lying. He really believes she's going to spin around and possibly struggle just a little.

He can take some reprieve in the fact that y/n is capable of driving and has passed her test. But she's still never been on a kart and actually she's not driven in nearly 2 years now.

"It's the slowest kart. I think I should be alright." Y/n smiles earning a hum.

When they finally send her off and getting her on track Lando is visibly gritting his teeth.

"Dude, you look terrified." Keegan laughs as they move up towards the overlooking commentator box.

"She's fine mate. Look she's got some good speed too." Max smiles patting his shoulder. "Let her have at it."

Lando does walk up to watch her and it's not long before he notices just how excited she sounds on the radio. She goes around again building up some more speed and getting a bit of a cleaner lap in before she starts the real flying lap and the boys move down with the flag.

"Actually...A bit faster than Keegan..." Max smiles showing the stop watching 1:17 min.

Lando is took busy helping y/n up out of the kart double checking her over to make sure she's actually ok.

"What time did I get?" Y/n asks excitedly, bouncing on her toes as she moves to Max.

"4 seconds off, faster than Keegan though." Max smiles earning a grin as she slaps at Lando in excitement.

"Next kart, come on baby." Y/n grins pulling Lando forward towards the second kart.

They get her in the kart and again she's off, this time mumbling to herself much to the boys amusement but Lando realises that she's mumbling when to break and reminding herself not to break too much which makes his chest ache in a way he didn't know it could.

It's just too cute and he knows he'll be ripped into if he comments.

Again they rush down for her final lap and Keegan waves the flag this time while Max takes the timer.

Lando smiles as she climbs out and almost stumbles to the timer.

"Ooooh...a little slower than Keegan, 1 second off pace." Max states which earns a small huff. Her excitement damped by being the loser for the second round.

"It's alright, baby. You got more karts to try." Lando assures her before smiling brightly at her while she pouts at him. "Come on. Stop pouting."

He gets y/n in the faster kart and smiles at her saying that she's got this before he gets the kart going for her.

She gets around alright but it's obvious she's wobbling a bit more than Keegan did and when she goes to take the first corner on her second go around, she spins and the camera very much captures Lando standing up.

"Is she ok?" Max questions with a grimace but Lando is already up and out running towards her. "Oh god."

"Guess he'll find out." Keegan shrugs before they get up and leave at a much slower speed.

"Y/n!" Lando exclaims as he finally reaches her, but she's already up and out the kart looking down at it. "Baby, are you ok?"

"No...I just embarrassed myself and spun." Y/n huffs then sighing and pulling the helmet off. "Can I go again?"

"Do you want to? You can have a bit of a break if you want?" Lando offers in concern earning a head shake.

So after getting the kart back to the line he watches her go and this time he stays near the track in fear of her spinning again.

"Mate, she'll be ok. Stop worrying so much." Max laughs but Lando can't stop looking at her and frowning as he watches.

Y/n goes around and then takes her second lap and much to his relief picks up the speed during her last lap looking like she's really got a hold on it and when she crosses the line with Max announces she got the fastest time. Lando almost feels a type of relief since he thinks y/n would be upset not to get the best time.

Y/n grins when she stops and Lando practically plucks her from the kart and grins hugging her up and tosses her around as he cheers.

"You win baby!" Lando exclaims making her beam at him. "You got the fastest time."

"I did?!"

"Yep." Max confirms showing her the 1:09.2.

"Ahahaha! Ok, we can stop now. I don't think I want to do that again." Y/n smiles earning a laugh from the boys as she pulls the helmet off and moves to hug Lando again. "Celebrations?"

"Anything you'd like." Lando nods watching her wriggle in excitement.

"Fancy dinner?"

"So easily pleased. Yeah, we can go for a fancy dinner." Lando laughs while Max and Keegan both coo at them mockingly. "Yeah, just because P's not here and Keegan you wish you had a girl as good a y/n."

"Karting champions club over here." Y/n grins then laughing when Lando digs his fingers into her sides to tickle her for calling herself a karting champion.

[theworldsofgala]

Express | J.Fisher

FEM! READER

summary: you and jeremiah are best friends and you two get into a terrible argument on the beach after showing mixed signals of each other's company. you express your feelings for him at the end of it and he realizes with you two obviously ignoring each other that he has those same feelings for you.

warnings: angst, mentions of underage drinking, cursing + TAKES PLACE IN AMAZON PRIME VIDEO SERIES SEASON 2. If you don't want minor spoilers please don't read OR you can watch season 2 first!! this one shot does not completely go with the plot of the show!

thank you and enjoy lovely readers 🤍

"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N." Jeremiah said, half intoxicated due to them leaving a party at Susannah's house. Susannah was gone and all of you had decided to throw a party.

Rewinding to at least an hour before he had said those words to you, what led up to this moment was surprising. As you and Jeremiah were partying, about to kiss a fight broke out between Milo and Steven.

Another event happened where Skye ended up sharing the news about their mom, Julia making a deal with the kids that lived, well used to live at the Cousins beach house.

You and the others were allowed one week each summer, since the family that Julia had sold it to wasn't going to use it too much. Jeremiah, you and Belly hearing the news, all three of you were happy.

Though there was one person that couldn't accept the deal and that was when Jeremiah and Conrad ended up fighting. You were in the middle of it.

"Jere don't say that-" You said, holding his arm as Jeremiah pushed you away, which caused you to be taken aback. As Belly was leaving, Skye went after her. You stayed as you watched Jeremiah throw hurtful words towards Conrad.

"Jere stop-" You said but Jeremiah looked at you, after everything that he said to Conrad.

"So what you're defending him now too?" Jeremiah asked as you looked at Conrad, before looking down and shaking your head.

"I'm, I'm not sure." You whispered.

"Yeah. There it is again. The I'm not sure from Y/N. One happy thing, such a small thing that everyone could be happy about and you go and ruin it Conrad." Jeremiah said as he walked away.

As everyone seemed to go their separate ways, you stayed in front of Conrad as you felt your chest was hurting.

Conrad was silent, his eyes teary due to the words that Jeremiah said towards him. Conrad looked up as you were lost in thought, your mind vacant before you hear Conrad calling out your name. You looked up at him when he asked, "You okay?" his voice was shaky, hoarse and like it was caught in his throat.

"Yeah...yeah it's just," You started before sighing. "Last summer was messy." You stood there as your voice was shaky too, wondering why in this moment you felt like breaking down.

There was one specific person that you loved so much. That person was Jeremiah Fisher. Yet with how things were going last summer due to the whole love triangle, Susannah and other messy stuff, it was like that again.

You were caught in the middle of it and it was not until this summer that your feelings for Jeremiah were growing uncontrollably larger.

"As soon as school got out, hearing about the house being sold I've been trying hard too. To get the house back. To talk some sense into your dad. To talk to your aunt and I never once told anyone how much things have effected me." You said as your eyes teared up remembering the way Jeremiah and Conrad looked at each other with so much remorse.

"I love Jere. So much, Conrad" You whispered. "Last summer I realized I liked Jeremiah even if he's been my best friend my entire life. Seeing Jere and Bells kiss with Steven, I couldn't take that happiness away." You smiled as you wiped your tears, you weren't a drinker so these were your raw emotions, not intensified too much because there was no alcohol intake.

Conrad seemed to go more silent hearing that Jeremiah and Belly kissed, as if not knowing that already. It was a reminder that Belly couldn't choose. You looked at him as if apologizing for bringing it up.

"Conrad," You called out, "I wanna keep fighting for this house but I don't know how much more all of us can take if it's causing this much damage," You said truthfully as your tears were falling harder. Conrad was crying as well, his head held low before pulling you into a hug.

You two were somewhat the same. Bottling things up, though Conrad got the bigger blow. You hugged Conrad tightly as you sniffled, continuing what you were saying.

"I just had to be there for you both," You mumbled. "You are here," Conrad mumbled. "You are, you really are." Conrad said in a shaky tone, not knowing how else to comfort you. Not knowing if what he was doing for you was helping you feel better.

You didn't want Belly to be alone but the one person that needed someone, knowing that Conrad would go after Belly, you knew no one would be there for Jeremiah.

Conrad pulled away as you wiped your tears. Conrad wiped his away as he patted your head. "Go after Belly," You told Conrad. You pointed to his chest.

"I already know you will." You smiled at him as Conrad nodded. Everyone rarely saw you cry. You knew that you had just let it all go to Conrad, but knew that he had something to take care.

Conrad nodded as he slowly walked away from you, leaving you there to wipe your tears away in hopes that they would be gone. You took a deep breath before walking back into the beach house, the strobing lights still seen through the house's windows since the curtains seemed to not be covering any part of the windows.

You looked through the crowd, trying to find Jeremiah amongst the people dancing and drinking. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes always made you cringe, you and Cam always got along pretty well when it came to parties because you two didn't drink.

You didn't drink specifically because your mom died due to a drunk driver. You didn't want to be that way, and there would come a time when you would finally drink.

You saw spray painting on the wall, people breaking windows and tables as you shook your head, moving past people who were shoving you left and right.

Finally though you found Jeremiah standing against a wall with a red cup already in his hands. You were in front of him as he looked down at you with the same angry expression he showed Conrad.

He was ready to leave, pulling his weight off of the wall as he turned away from you. You grabbed his wrist quickly, making him accidentally drop the red cup in his hand, spilling the drink on the ground.

Jeremiah tried his hardest to hold back his anger, you being his best friend he couldn't be mad. Not at you completely. You looked up at him as he turned around, his eyes still averted away from yours.

"Can we talk?" You asked him, loud enough to go past the loud music that was playing.

"I don't see a reason," Jeremiah said as you bit the inside of your lip and held his wrist harder.

"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." You said as Jeremiah finally looking at you. The reason he didn't want to look at you was because he saw you crying on Conrad.

He knew the reason why you were crying and it was because of him. He knew that too well that he was the one that made you cry, yet he couldn't comfort you and say that it was okay.

Jeremiah pulled his wrist away from your strong grip before walking outside with you, to the beach, a different part of it since Belly and Conrad were talking as well.

You followed after him, as you stared at the back of his head before he finally stopped when you both reached your favorite log on the beach. He turned around as he stared at you with a look of anger still.

"If this is about what I said to Conrad, I'm not taking it back." Jeremiah said.

"Jere you didn't have to say all of that-" "He asked for my blessing, Y/N" Jeremiah started getting riled up, already feeling that anger was bottled up inside of him.

"Yes he did, but he needed someone, he needed his brother and this summer you guys have been butting heads indirectly but things were getting better," You said as had your hands out, you trying not to get teary eyed. Yes you were defending Conrad because he was in the right, but you wanted Jeremiah to know that too.

"Since when were we getting better?" Jeremiah asked as he scoffed, laughing a bit because it was unbelievable to him. "He took Belly away from me. I had to watch him and Belly together. I thought of all people you would know how lonely I was because I was there for my mom when no one wasn't." Jeremiah said, his voice partially raising.

You felt your heart ache as your tears were starting to become visible but you wiped your face while Jeremiah was looking away. You didn't know. How else to tell him. How else could you possibly comfort him?

"Jere," You called out, "I'm here," Was all that could slip out.

"Where were you then? When were you here?" Jeremiah asked as his eyes were tearing up, his eyes seeming to get rid of the anger slowly but it was evidently still there.

"You always comforted everyone else before you came and checked up on me. You ran after Belly when her and Conrad fought at my mom's funeral. MY MOM'S funeral. You told me that you would always be there for me first, you liar." Jeremiah pointed to his chest, as he was hitting his chest with his fingers as he was saying that.

You hated it. Seeing him in so much pain but you were in pain as well. "Jere, I tried to take care of everyone and I'm sorry. I swear I came to check up on you first you're twisting the story," You said, trying to stay calm, while Jeremiah was raising his voice at you.

"You know what, whose side are you on?" Jeremiah asked as he put his hands on his hips, turning his body as he was now rejecting looking at you.

"I saw Conrad hugging you," "Jere are you seriously doing this right now-" "Doing what? Watching you be comforted because you're what the girl version of me and Conrad combined? Bottling shit up and then acting like it's okay? Yet you don't even go and run after me?"

"You aren't making any sense Jere why are you blaming me for that thing specifically?" You asked as you put your hand on Jeremiah's but he pushed you away once again, like he did back there during his argument with Conrad.

"Don't fucking touch me." Jeremiah said with a rough voice. "Whose side are you on." Jeremiah asked as you bit your lip.

You clenched your fists, "What do you even mean Jere?!" You finally yelled which took him aback. You looked away as your chest was heaving.

"When was I here? I've been here the entire time! Being in the middle of you and Conrad. The middle of you and Belly. The middle of you three!" You yelled as you stepped towards him, you pointing your finger on his chest as you were pushing him with it.

"I was there even if I was in pain too. With my mother's death at the beginning of last summer, then Susannah was next. You don't see it do you?" You asked as your tears were falling uncontrollably.

"You needed someone and when you say no one was there for you I watched you miserably. I watched you and felt invisible. You focused on Belly so much when you guys had a thing and I had to act like I was okay with that." You laughed but it mixed with crying too.

"I tried so hard to continuously fix things. Every time Belly had a conflict with Conrad or you I would be there for her. Every time you felt so alone I was there. I was there for each and every one of you and yet you're asking me where I was?!" You yelled.

"Y/N-" Jeremiah said as he took your finger off of his chest and held your hand but you pulled your hand off of him. "I get how much Belly effected you. How much you love her," You said as you knew the next words that you were about to say were fucked up. You knew that you shouldn't put yourself before others.

"I love you Jere," You said, in hopes that he would return the feelings. Yet you knew. You knew that you two made a promise to one another that you would never fall for each other.

There was complete silence, the silence killing you but Jeremiah was taking time to process. The processing ended up stopping, but the next words that Jeremiah said towards you were words that you wished he would never say to you, but he did.

"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N" Jeremiah said as he had a face of disgust. An expression he never had towards you but to others. You saw the way he looked at you, the way that you wished he hadn't.

"So that's it," You said as your breath hitched before your next words came. "You and I were about to kiss, obviously getting even closer during this whole week and you say that to me," You said as Jeremiah looked away.

"That was a mistake," Jeremiah said as your lips quivered, tears falling harder. "I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to kiss someone." Jeremiah lied, but you didn't know that. Jeremiah knew that he didn't want to hurt you if he was still in love with Belly.

"You wanted to kiss someone?" You asked as Jeremiah nodded. "I love Belly." Jeremiah said straightforwardly. "We promised each other that we wouldn't."

"Fuck- promises are meant to be broken!" You yelled. "Can't you make an exception just this once? That you can love me somehow? The way I love you?" You asked, begging for Jeremiah to somehow look at you the way he always has.

The one time that you finally break, after being so worn out with being the therapy friend, the friend that everyone could depend on but at your lowest moments you could only depend on Susannah and Laurel.

Susannah was gone and that impacted you too but you knew that if you compared it to the pain that Jeremiah and Conrad felt, it would be selfish. That the mother figure that replaced your mom when she passed, was now gone and the last mother figure you had was Laurel.

"I can't fucking look at you." Jeremiah said, his breath shaky. "I can't believe you." Jeremiah said as he started walking past you. You didn't watch him leave, as you stood there, still in front of your favorite log that you two would always have heartfelt conversations on.

Before he could walk away completely, you turned to him. "You can't just leave it at that!" You yelled before Jeremiah stopped. You sobbed as you begged for him one more time, wanting his answer to change.

"Yes I can." Jeremiah said as he turned around, his eyebrows knitted. "I can say that I can't." Jeremiah said, his voice shaky because he was afraid. Afraid that he was losing you now too and it was because of the words that were coming out of his mouth.

You walked up to him and tried your hardest but still he pushed you off of him. He would never treat a girl like this, ever. Yet it seemed like you were a different case. He wanted to get away from you.

"Just- Just get away from me alright?!" Jeremiah yelled which made you stop. You froze and as you did, Jeremiah ran his fingers through his hair before his tears fell as his breath was hitching too.

You watched as he sobbed, his emotions seeming to stir in the pot but with each new ingredient in there, it was the wrong ones every time. You reached out to Jeremiah, but your efforts were short as he finally decided to leave.

This time you didn't go after him. As much as you tried to comfort him, he still walked away without turning back even if your cries were heard. You had tried to hug him, knowing that was always the solution but this time, that solution was last place.

You fell to your knees as you sobbed out, wishing that the conversation ended on a high note but it didn't. Your heart ached before you felt everything suddenly get blurry and shaky. Due to the many emotions you were feeling everything had gone black.

NEXT MORNING

The sun was shining over Cousins beach. The next morning came and everyone at the party was gone. The guests were gone at least except the mess that was left behind.

You felt your breath catch in your lungs before waking up when you felt the glare of the sun hitting your body. You woke up, getting up from the sand on the beach.

"Did I really sleep here?" You asked before your eyes softened realizing no one noticed you were gone. You were hoping Jeremiah would at least bring you inside or be concerned for you seeing that you didn't come inside later that night.

You had your hands on the sand before standing up, your legs feeling numb because of the emotions that were still hitting you right as you wake up.

You walked off of the beach and into the beach house, seeing that the door was wide open, before realizing Laurel's car was there in the driveway.

You blinked before you realized. You ran inside but was met with Belly walking out of the house. Belly was holding her cheek. "Bells?" You called out as held her arm, trying to stop her. She hugged you tightly, her tears falling onto your shoulder.

You were shocked seeing the amount of tears coming out of Belly's eyes. You held the back of her head as you hugged her tightly before she pulled away and walked out to the beach.

You watched as she left, your breathing on double time before walking inside knowing that she needed space. You saw Laurel there, with Steven, Conrad and Jeremiah.

Steven told Laurel that Belly and the rest of the kids were at least here for Susannah's boys while Laurel was absent. After hearing Laurel already knew about the house being up for sale. Everyone walked away from Laurel and apparently you now. Jeremiah didn't bat an eye at you, covered in sand.

Laurel looked over to you before you looked away. "I'll start cleaning up," You whispered. "Belly needs her mom right now." You whispered before grabbing a trash bag, feeling somewhat small as you started to clean the place.

It was an hour or two later that Laurel announced that she would fight for the house and talk to Julia about it. Everyone was thankful for Laurel, glad that Belly reached out to her mom.

You kept your distance from everyone as you felt invisible and sad again. You looked at Jeremiah a few times but he never looked at you. He really did mean that he wouldn't look at you at all.

Julia finally arrived and as the kids were cleaning up, Laurel pulled Julia aside talking at Susannah and her's favorite spot.

You continued to clean up as Belly came over to you with Taylor. "You okay?" Belly asked, her hand on your back. You didn't know that Jeremiah and the others were also listening in as well.

"Yeah, just a little tired." You told Belly. "Jere and I had a big argument last night." You smiled sadly. As Belly pulled you aside along with Taylor and Skye who seemed to tag along, Steven looked over at Jeremiah.

"What happened?" Steven asked Jeremiah who was scrubbing the wall, trying to get the spray paint off of it. Jeremiah shook his head. He knew if he thought about it then he would've said the wrong things somehow.

"Nothing," "Well it doesn't seem like nothing Jere. Taylor and I watched the whole thing. I wanted to punch you so badly seeing the way you made her cry." Steven said as Conrad awkwardly listened, still on the silent treatment with Jeremiah.

Steven put down his trash bag as he made Jeremiah stop too. "I get it. We've all been through a lot of shit man but I know damn well that you love Y/N. More than Belly." Steven said as Jeremiah looked away.

"I don't." "You really are an airhead like they all say." Steven chuckled before making Jeremiah face him.

"You may think that taking the easier option is better but the better option will always be there for you and if I'm going to be honest it's Y/N. You said it so yourself. Belly will always have something for Conrad. There's someone though waiting for you." Steven said since Conrad left the room. Jeremiah looked up at Steven as Steven was awkwardly smiling.

"I.." Jeremiah said before his shoulders fell, "I fucked up so badly," Jeremiah said as Steven agreed.

"Well yeah. Can't say that I don't agree with you cause I do." Steven laughed as Jeremiah nodded.

"I..I don't know. I just don't know." "Well you gotta know somehow. All the things you said weren't her true intentions and even you know that when you start to regret what you said. She's always been there for you. Through everything. Of course she would love you dude. It isn't hard to love someone like you. Especially her. She always finds a reason." Steven reassured as Jeremiah's eyes teared up.

"Do you think she'd forgive me? For the things I said? I've never in my life spoke to her like that. I've never said such harsh things to her and yet in that moment it felt that that was the only thing that I could do." Jeremiah explained, his obvious regret showing.

"Give it a day or two. You'll probably realize it more." Steven patted Jeremiah's shoulder. "What you said was fucked. Even I would be hurt if someone said that to me." Steven said, not trying to blame Jeremiah but he knew that the two would push through.

Jeremiah paused for a bit before nodding. He knew that he had to do something somehow. He knew if he wasn't there for you the way you were there for him, then no one would be. Hearing that you slept on the beach, eavesdropping and everything no one came to come get you.

Jeremiah knew that as a best friend he should've been there for you. To carry you inside despite being so mad at you. He knew that he put his emotions first. Who knows what could've happened. He wasn't there for you the way you were there for him.

Those thoughts of what he said to you last night started to course through his mind. He winced at the thought of everything as Steven went to go clean more.

He would give it a day or two, in hopes that he would realize it all.

That he needed you, and loved you the way you did.

Taylor was currently giving you a hug as you tried your best not to cry. You stayed so strong up until now but again, you were a carbon copy of Conrad and Jeremiah combined. Belly and Skye were rubbing your back as you cried.

You hated the words that Jeremiah said towards you. Taylor had heard it all with Steven and explained everything to Belly and Skye for you so that you didn't have to.

You closed your eyes, hoping that all of this was a bad dream. Hoping that what Jeremiah said wasn't meant. Your chest kept on going up and down quickly. You were hiccuping as your walls crashed down.

You hoped that the house would be in the possession of the boys. You knew though that you didn't want to be a part of it anymore. You told yourself as you were being comforted, that this would be your last summer at the Cousin's house.

THE NEXT DAY

As you all were wrapping things up, Conrad and Jeremiah had a heartfelt conversations the night before. It seemed that everything was able to be fixed yesterday except things with you and Jeremiah.

You of course included yourself in helping Conrad study for his test in Brown to get into Stanford. Everyone was all for it, especially Belly. Yesterday evening was the last time you saw Julia and Skye for now.

After being able to convince Jeremiah and Conrad's dad about selling the house they had in Boston, things started to get good from there.

The morning came around and things needed to finish up. With the house not being on the market, everyone needed to go home and would be able to come back whenever they'd like and whenever everyone had free time.

You smiled as you were saying goodbye to Laurel. While the others were saying goodbye to one another, you wanted to talk to Laurel first.

"Thank you so much Laurel for everything that you've done up to this point." You said as you were holding her hands. Laurel smiled as she looked at you. You looked back at her, and the obvious eye bags were under your eyes.

"I heard what happened between you and Jeremiah," Laurel said as she gave you a hug. "Thank you so much for being here for everyone. We'd love to see you here again next summer or this summer if anything." You softened up in Laurel's hold before holding onto her and smiling.

"I'll think about it," You said as Laurel nodded. Laurel slowly pulled away as everyone started getting into their cars. You ended up actually driving here, so you didn't have a problem taking your time getting home. You took a good look at the Cousins house.

You weren't ready to leave yet, as everyone was talking about when they would next be all together. Everyone was saying the fourth. You looked at everyone in the group before smiling and humming.

"Yeah, I'll be available whenever." You chuckled as you started waving goodbye to everyone. "I'm gonna stay here for a bit longer. Conrad tell me how the test goes. Tell us everything," You smiled as Conrad nodded, with a content smile.

"See you whenever, Y/N" You nodded as everyone seemed to be driving out of the driveway. You didn't notice that Jeremiah actually stayed behind, instead of driving off in his brother's car. Conrad ended up leaving without Jeremiah.

You had your back turned, oblivious to Jeremiah staying behind as you walked into the Cousin's house, going to the pool as you dipped your feet in the cold water.

You heard the door open and looked back seeing Jeremiah was there, his hands in his pockets as he looked over at you, sitting on the ledge of the swimming pool.

You slowly looked away, still kicking your feet gently. Jeremiah slowly sat next to you, dipping his feet in the water with yours. It was silent for a good minute as the awkward silence was sitting there with you two as well.

Jeremiah was the first to break the silence, as he looked at you slowly, seeing that you were watching your feet kick in the water that you were now used to since they have been in there for at least a minute.

"Let's talk?" He asked as you tensed up a little before shaking your head. "I don't see a reason to." You snapped back, repeating his words from last night. To your surprise though, Jeremiah said the exact same thing that you had said to him too. You both switched placed though.

"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." Jeremiah whispered which made you stop kicking your feet. You slowly looked over at Jeremiah, your eyes already teary eyed. Jeremiah stared at your hurt filled eyes as he winced seeing how drained you looked.

Jeremiah reached up as he cupped your cheek gently, but you pulled away a bit. Jeremiah still tried though, holding both of your cheeks as he took a good look at you.

"No," Jeremiah whispered. "Don't pull away," You shook your head more as you held onto Jeremiah's wrists, wanting to shove his hands off of you but you knew that if you didn't want to do that truly.

"But you did," You told Jeremiah as you continued to look at his ocean eyes. "You pushed me away," Jeremiah nodded.

"I know I did, and I'm sorry Y/N." Jeremiah said as he wiped away the tears that were streaming down your cheeks as they were coming down.

"You didn't eat today or yesterday. You haven't slept either. I saw you were still awake even when everyone else was sleeping." Jeremiah said as he put his thumb gently under one of your eyes, seeing the obvious eye bags that already grew.

"It's hard to when you're mad at me." You admitted. "I didn't think you would have noticed me at all since you said that you couldn't look at me," You looked away as Jeremiah's eyes softened.

"Everything with Conrad, I resolved all of it. We told each other that we would talk things out as they come and not let them linger." Jeremiah admitted towards you.

"Things with Belly..I already knew that I don't love her that way. That there will always be a better option for me and..Y/N that's you." Jeremiah said, trying to convince you that the words he said to you a night ago was wrong.

You continued to look away as Jeremiah was the one speaking this time. "I do love you too. In the way that a best friend does but the way that a lover does too." Jeremiah said as he slowly let go of your cheeks, grabbing hold of your hands that he noticed were shaking, seeing your body tremble as well.

He could still see the silent cries you were giving and he knew that instead of being jealous of others that he'd rather be there for you than watch you crying in someone else's arms.

You stayed silent as you listened to Jeremiah, still trying to register everything. "I know..it's hard to forget what I said. But I'd rather say this and take back all of the words." Jeremiah held your hands still, trying to stop them from shaking as he kissed your hands gently.

He closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry for the way I talked to you. I'm sorry for making you cry. I'm sorry for blaming you and lying to you that it was a mistake." You started to sob but Jeremiah didn't stop.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away and thinking you're invisible..you aren't. I needed someone and Belly couldn't be there for me because she was always with Conrad the most. I'm sorry for forgetting about you." Jeremiah's voice started to become shaky, starting to get emotional as he continued.

"I'm sorry for never realizing how much I loved you, Y/N." Jeremiah stopped when you took your hands off of Jeremiah's hands. With this, Jeremiah thought that you were going to get up and leave but you had your hands on his chest, pushing him gently.

Jeremiah looked up at you as you looked at him, hiccuping as your voice finally came out. "Stop," You whispered as you punched him gently, "Just kiss me already," You begged as Jeremiah's eyes widened.

Jeremiah put his forehead on yours as he watched you start to calm down, feeling how close he was to you. Jeremiah gently, hesitantly grabbed your cheek.

"I want to kiss you, I really do." Jeremiah said as your noses touched, booping one another's. "Out of all the people, it was always you." Jeremiah said before his lips hit yours.

Your body stopped trembling, as you melted into the kiss that Jeremiah had given you. Your first kiss was with your best friend. This was Jeremiah's millionth kiss probably but to you, this was the kiss you wanted it to be with.

You kissed Jeremiah, wrapping your arms around Jeremiah's neck as you pulled him closer.

He pulled you closer by the waist as he held you tightly, not wanting to let you go. You pulled away for a second before reconnecting your lips together with his.

Jeremiah tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear, feeling his chest was about to explode because of how much his heart was beating double time.

No one else could make both of you feel this way, both of you knew that for sure as you felt sparks. As Jeremiah slowly pulled away, Jeremiah stared into your eyes as he smiled softly, seeing how out of breath you were.

"The tears are gone." Jeremiah pointed out as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You pressed your lips against his curly hair, closing your eyes slowly.

Jeremiah looked up at you again, pulling away a bit from the hug. He connected his lips with yours again, kissing you was so easy to him it seemed.

You kissed him back instantly, smiling in the kiss because you felt better. You felt that things really were going to be okay with Jeremiah. Jeremiah pulled away this time, staring at your lips before pecking it gently with a smile.

Jeremiah rubbed your back gently before getting up and helping you up as well. Jeremiah held your hands before sitting down on one of the beach chairs with you. He put you on his lap gently, having you face him.

You had your hands on his shoulders, having some support as you stared into his eyes.

As you two were silently looking at one another, the silence was broken when both of you said at the same time,

"I love you," You and him stared at each other before laughing softly together.

"Let's stay here for a bit, then I'll come over and sleep over." Jeremiah said as you nodded.

"I'd love that, a lot." You said as you pushed all of your weight on Jeremiah's as he laid on the beach chair with you on top of him.

Jeremiah kissed your forehead gently, having his arms up as a arm pillow.

Jeremiah closed his eyes as he smiled softly. "Me too,"

[theworldsofgala]

Middle Of The Night - [B.B X Reader]

Summary: In where Benedict and you have been friends for years, you are in love with him and Lady Whistledown decides to write about it in her infamous scandal sheet. 

Word Count: 1.7k 

Warnings: Smoking 

Requested: Yes! @alone19-24​ thank you for the request darl, I do hope this was okay <3

A/N: Also, I know I said I wasn’t going to write because I have covid rn but I just couldn’t help myself lol

The Bridgerton’s had been your family friends for as long as you could remember. You only lived next door in Number Six Bruton Street, and your back gardens were pretty much attached. You had found a sneaky way through the hedges to see each other late at night.

You started doing this in the middle of the night, sometimes to see Eloise but more often than anything, to see Benedict. You were in love with him, you had already imagined what your life would be like with him and then you would often get sad because his affections did not lie with you.

Benedict never once showed affections towards you. Perhaps it was the gentleman inside of him, not wanting to tarnish a lady’s reputation but you never noticed any soft glances or even a hitch to his breath when he saw you. He was unattainable and you knew that.

Seguir leyendo

[theworldsofgala]

WHEN YOU CALL HIM “DUDE” / “BRO”

synopsis: you call your hq bf “dude” / “bro” — how will he react?

featuring: suna rintarō, tsukishima kei, & oikawa tooru. gn!reader.

content warning(s): one curse word … i think lol, kinda ooc?? mentions of being hungry/starving?? idk that’s all.

naia’s footnote: i have exams in 2-3 days and instead of doing my javascript notes, i made this! 😁 ALSO time stamps aren’t important and ignore that my phone is already charging on oikawa’s part LOL

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! likes & rb's are appreciated!

© ATSUMULOGY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ANY FORM OF PLAGIARISM OF ANY OF MY CONTENT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

[theworldsofgala]

stuck | bakugou katsuki

synopsis ↬ bakugou hates when nerds are better than him OR you get stuck in a closet but bakugou doesn’t feel like helping

warnings ↬ stuckage/kabeshiri, dub/non-con, college au, non-con picture taking, soft bully bakugou(?), bakugou doesn't act like a bully in the beginning but he does later on, the reader's favorite class is biology, the reader is a nerd, i'm sorry if i offend any nerds, the way you get stuck is kinda poorly written and i'm sorry, do not read if you don’t like being in tight spaces, or-l (receiving), f-ngering (receiving), bakugou calls you a lot of names (not nice names), slut-shaming, objectification, swearing, reader is wearing a skirt, leashes (brief), if you get confused at how I describe the scene just look at the header image, let me know if i've missed anything

pairings ↬ agedup!bully!bakugou katsuki x fem!nerdy!reader

word count ↬ 3.7k

Carefully carrying your biology class's materials, you strode along the partially empty halls to your destination. Professor Kayama, your biology instructor, asked if you could return them to a storage room in preparation for her next class. Being an exemplary student, you happily agreed — not minding the heavy load of fragile items. You held a large plastic tub of different materials she neatly stacked before handing them to you. Your slow-paced walk seemed to agitate some of your fellow classmates trying to hurry to their next activity, yet you didn't mind.

Entering the large storage area, you place the materials that manage to fit inside your arms on the floor. The room was quite large, filled with all assortments of items used in her class. All of which, you could name without even needing to try. Sticking your nose in science textbooks all day certainly paid off. The chatter of a loud group of students just outside the closed door seemed to distract you from your thoughts, just briefly.

You tried to unlock a door leading to a walk-in closet area, except it seemed to be jammed. This was a usual reoccurrence; Professor Kayama would always complain about the door, saying that it always gave her problems and that bringing this to your university for a fix would amount to nothing. She said, "they're too busy with less important things, i'll teach you how to fix it," and so she did.

It was a sliding door, the type that never swung open for "safety reasons". You tightly grasped the handle, pulling the door in the opposite direction while pressing all your strength against it. Finally, the door seemed to magically become smooth on its hinges and glided open with ease. Professor Kayama warned you never to suddenly push against the door with too much force at once as it would make the gears loose and jam it once again. So far, you've managed to survive the faulty door and any mishaps but you knew that you would eventually encounter some problems.

You pick up the plastic tub and enter the room, quickly arranging each object in its correct location. Of course, this wasn't your only duty for the day; Professor Kayama requested that you also tidy any materials that seemed out of place as she needed to leave campus early.

Again, you didn't mind. In fact, you seemed to enjoy knowing that you were her most-trusted pupil. The favorite of the class and the clear spark for envy from the other students. Always scoring the highest out of everyone in your class. Seated in the front during her lectures with your pen and paper ready to take notes while most students couldn't focus or snoozed off in the middle of class. You were the role model for them all to follow, and yet they could never match your pace.

Of course, with all of this attention, you attracted one jealous follower. A boy in your class with a name you were too busy to remember. It started with a "B", that was the only part you decided to memorize. You weren't interested in trying to become 'buddies' with people you wouldn't see again in four years. He always sat at the back of the lecture hall, too enamored with his friends to pay attention. You could vividly recall during one class hearing the obnoxious laughter of a friend he affectionately called, "dunce-face". The cacophony of their voices disrupted the entire lesson, irritating both you and Professor Kayama. You only noticed him because of his performance after every exam, project, and quiz.

The blonde would always try to outperform you. Yet, for the first time in his life, you made him experience failure.

Always coming in a distant second place to you; a sharp contrast to his perfect scores in every other class he took, passing them all with flying colors. You couldn't fathom how he did so well in a class he seemed to show no interest in.

His group of friends certainly weren't the brightest. The annoying one in your class failed nearly every test he took. While the rest weren't focused, instead finding ways to get a freshman's number so they could get their dicks wet. You concluded that he simply cheated on his exams. You were wrong. The notes for all his classes were extensive and thorough. He did whatever he could to ensure his throne was at the top of every class; the only thing more unbearable than last place was second.

His attempt at going above you only led to more shortcomings. Studying all night for a quiz that he ended up sleeping through was unfortunate, but he could get over it. Until he learned that you received another perfect score. Professor Kayama felt bad for him, she couldn't do much except arrange a tutoring session with you as his instructor. He didn't need her pity. He didn't need your pity.

You weren't elated with Professor Kayama's request for you to tutor him, yet you couldn't reject your favorite teacher. You approached him after class a few months ago, plastering your biggest and brightest fake smile. Waving your hand, a little too cheerful and innocent for his liking, and uttering words that made his hatred for you stronger: "I know this class is difficult, so would you like my help? I'm always free if you have any questions, we can be study partners! So, what do you say?"

God, your sweet tooth-rotting voice made him nauseous. You had to be faking it; that professor was watching over you like a hawk. You didn't know how humiliating it was for him. He had so much he wanted to say; resentful sentiments that would leave you beneath him with tears streaming out of your puffy eyes. The perfect view.

As you stood in front of him with your hand outstretched and waiting for his acceptance, his rage surged. You watched as his blood rushed to his reddening cheeks and ears, somewhat intimidated by his strange reaction. Infuriated with your weak attempt at challenging him, the blonde kissed his teeth and stormed out of the classroom. His gaze lingered on you for months following that interaction.

Until his deep ruby eyes caught you entering the storage room, running errands like a mule for your professors.

"Oi, Bakugou!" Yelled his red-haired friend standing across him in the hallway, "Are you listening?" Upon seeing the blonde nod, he continued. "So, you comin' to Mina's party?"

"Yeah, yeah... whatever," He said while running his fingers over the scruff of his neck. Kirishima named a list of girls attending like an elementary student reciting the alphabet, he's surprised he remembers each one. Momo, Uraraka, Yui... He recognized some, they were his frequent calls whenever he needed a quick fuck.

"—that girl in our english class," Kirishima peers up, trying to think once again before a lightbulb flickers in his head. "Denki tried with the smart girl in bio... fuck, I forgot her name... (Y/N) or something like that..."

"Who..?" He wasn't even sure why he bothered asking when he heard correctly the first time.

"That nerdy chick, always at the front in class,"

"Oh,"

"Yeah, but he said she's frigid... said no to his face before he could convince her. Too bad, she sounds like my type," Kirishima snickers under his breath as the blonde stays still.

By now, you've finished cleaning up most of the equipment and returned each of them to their assigned locations. Despite all of your years around fragile science materials, you seem to forget some essential points about safety. You can hear the familiar sound of heavy footsteps outside the closed door. Where have you heard them before? You only peeked away for a second; unfortunately, one second is enough time for an accident to happen.

Hitting your shin on the leg of a nearby desk before tripping over your feet, you fall on your knees and tummy — landing in the cramped walkway with the top half of your body inside the closet. You didn't have enough time to register the shockwave of pain through your legs. The closet's sliding door barrels down and pins you by the waist. Locking your body in place and wedging you right against the door frame. Fuck, it sounded like a cliché from a video on the Hub, which made it more embarrassing.

You try to move and twist your waist but to no avail. You reach your nearest hand to the door and push, yet it 'conveniently' seems jammed in place. For what feels like an eternity, you try desperately to move your body in any way that you can. You make some progress by managing to kneel on the hard tiles, yet the pain from falling prevents you from standing upright. Maybe you sprained something? You don't know, but you need to get out of here fast.

The last thing you want is to be a burden, but in reality, you should be concerned with someone thinking you're an idiot for falling like this. With few choices, you decide to call for help, "help..! somebody..! please, i need help!"

You should have been suspicious when you heard the sound of the front door opening. A minute hadn't even passed. It closes softly, and the faint sound of the lock fills the empty air. Asking if someone was there only led to more silence. The ground trembles like some desks have moved out of the way; obviously, someone was inside.

"Oh gosh, thank you..! I'm so clumsy, I don't know how this happened..." You continue rambling on, thinking they're clearing away to make space and rescue you. When they don't respond, you crane your neck behind only to see the disgruntled blonde — whose name you can't bother remembering — standing over you through the gap in the closet door. "Oh, it's you. Sorry, I don't know your name..."

"Doesn't fuckin' matter," Yet, he seems to grimace at your unnecessary comment. He menacingly looms over your body, making you too anxious and scared to look away.

"S- Sorry if I'm being a burden, but as you can see—" You say while trying to wiggle and show that you can't move but unintentionally show off your bum. "—I'm a little stuck, can you help me?"

"Why should I?" He says with an unwavering expression. He's dead serious. Piercing down at you beneath him while bubbling with excitement, he's won the jackpot.

"Uh... well, I'm hurt really bad. I can't get up on my own," That's unfortunate.

The whole situation was simply comical; he wanted to burst out laughing so bad, so that's what he did. His resounding yet obnoxious voice traveled through every wall of the room. This had to be a joke. There was no way that you of all the people he knew could end up in a situation like this. His cheeky grin only left you confused, clutching his belly as if he'd been injured.

"I know this might seem funny to you, but it's not. Please don't laugh..."

"But it is," He said, finally calming down and catching his breath. "I'm finding it hard to believe the teacher's pet could end up like this. Don’t tell me you’re a dumbass,"

"If you won't help me, will you just find someone else?" You turn your head around, letting your guard down for a moment. When will you learn to stop doing that?

"Why? Don't like me?" The feeling of his foot pushing into your lower back startles you. You aren't given much time to react before it's forcefully arched lower into an uncomfortable position, giving him a full view of your ass.

"H- Hey..! Cut that out..!" Your skirt rides up your thighs, exposing your cotton panties to his mischievous eyes. Greedy hands feel up your soft bum before giving it a tap.

"Wish I could help, but I don't feel like it," He says after finishing his touches. Staring off into the distance, acting as if he'd been genuinely contemplating whether or not to aid you.

"What..?" He eases his foot off your back and chooses to squat behind you. His hands caress your hips before lifting your skirt upwards, exposing your clothed heat.

"Sorry, love, you just look so pretty beneath me," He hooks his fingers under the fabric of your panties, chuckling to himself once he sees you struggle in his hands. Completely unfazed. "It's Bakugou... Katsuki, my name,"

Bakugou. Bakugou.

The surname rings a bell, it sounds so familiar. How could you forget? Your meager interactions with him flood back in your mind, but it's too late to remedy and make amends.

Tugging your panties past your cheeks, Bakugou left you uncovered as his hands freely roamed. He cupped each mound of flesh in his hands, spreading them apart and watching your folds glisten. His thumb runs along your labia, making your body shudder at the foreign sensation. Trying to ask him questions proved pointless; instead, the blonde whispered under his breath about you being desperate “like a bitch in heat”. Partially in disbelief at the sight of your slick as you rubbed your thighs together; you're really enjoying this, aren't you?

Circling his fingers over your clit and massaging your nub, your teeth sink into your lip to hold back moans. His fingers are skilled, he's done this plenty of times with other girls in the past. Yet, the way that he touches hints that he wants to go slow. Take his time and enjoy it as if you were his first. Smirking at your glistening heat as if to prove to his corrupted mind that his actions were justified.

To him, you were a conquest. The trophy on his display case that would become the envy of all his friends.

"W- Wait... Please don't—... do that..!" You want to sound strong, yet your voice is in the same sweet intonation.

Bakugou doesn't take you seriously, not when constant mewls float out of your lips and into his ears. Instead, saying he'll stop when he's finished in a tone that causes your heart to race with panic. You feel something warm and icky suddenly touching your heat; using his thumb, he spreads it across your folds while mumbling about "getting you ready". You don't even bother asking, succumbing to his lustful desires.

Maybe this is all he'll do. Feel you up and then help you when he's done, right?

You couldn't be more wrong.

His flat tongue takes a slow lap at your warmth as your hips wiggle again in his hold. Using both hands, Bakugou pins you still by your waist and lower back — holding you tight until you can't struggle. His grip is too strong, fingernails scratching into your skin. You don't stand a chance. He forces your back to arch more, releasing a hum of approval at your compliance. Kirishima said you were frigid, but now you've got him second-guessing.

His tongue darts across your clit with ease; gliding over your sensitive bud as your walls flutter. Teasing your sex just right, only taking Bakugou a few minutes to guess the spots that would drive you insane. The same insanity he was plagued with whenever he was around your presence. You tried using your legs to kick at the blonde, toes curling in your shoes. He swears into your pussy in frustration, why can't you just stay still? The vibration of his voice sends a wave of pleasure through as you moan in response, "nngh... d- don't i... i can't...ahh~"

One of your kicks nearly strikes him in the chest with full force. Your last attempt at fleeing once an intense pain surges through your leg. He simply finds it humorous again, the thought of you overpowering him. Bakugou moves one of his hands to your leg, pinning it to the tile flooring. Still determined, he continues his assault on your now swollen clit. Attached to your pussy and coaxing out your clear essence onto his tongue. Savoring your taste on his tongue, moving his head downwards, and giving you one final kiss on your clit.

You wince, feeling his thick middle finger sink inside your sopping entrance. Bakugou's thumb extends over the hood of your clit, soon covering both fingers in slick. Peaking through the gap, he sees your figure, biting on your fingers but failing to hide your whimpers — he can't wait to get out of this stuffy room — praying that you cum soon so he can see your face of pure bliss afterward.

Kirishima always said he preferred inexperienced girls. Always seemed to get attached easily with a few words of affection. Made good fucks for a quickie; send them a teddy bear, say you're sorry if you hurt them, and they'll be at your beck and call.

The familiar high pitch in your voice is something he hears too often, fully knowing what happens next. "don't tell me you're gonna cum already, love?" He taunts while his finger curls over another spot that sends a loud moan through the room. Bakugou's thumb presses deeper against your clit, smirking at your frequent pulsating walls.

"N- No..! I'm not...!"

"Hm, you're not? You're drippin' down here babe. Squeezin' me too. Was hoping you'd save some for my cock instead." His... what? You twist around, trying to stop him by reaching out but he grabs your hand instead. Stopping you from turning around and inspecting you like his newest toy, he says, "Ah, that's the pretty face I missed,"

Another digit enters you with ease, quivering against him and sucking him further with every graze against your g-spot. The familiar pooling of warmth below your stomach was hard to ignore. "should've known you were a slut when I saw your cute little pussy, only dumb sluts get wet like that," The boost of confidence he received once feeling your spasming walls was immense, clenching around him with every degrading word.

He slows, but not to a complete stop. "kats!—..." you whine in frustration, quickly pressing your lips together afterward. It surprises you as much as it does him. Not understanding why, after all this time, you wanted him more than ever. He edged you closer and closer, his fingertips kissing your cervix.

"Beg me," He said, yet you fought your lips to stay still, not wanting to embarrass yourself further. "Ah, teacher's pet thinks she's better than me, huh?" Bakugou's heavy hand suddenly connected with your bum, making you yelp at the stinging pain, "You know, I've got all day..."

"Please," You said weakly. Not good enough.

"C'mon, you can do better. Don't you wanna cum on my fingers..?" He spoke in a condescending tone, caressing the spot on your ass where he hit.

Fuck it, your head was far too gone. "please, katsu— i need... i wanna cum so bad..." Close, but not yet.

"Can't hear you, babe," His hand moves to tap against your clit, making you shudder with every hit. "Be a good little bitch for me, speak up..."

"Fu—Fuck... Katsu... please make me cum..! Need you... bad, lemme cum on your fingers— please..!

He smirked to himself, not entirely pleased but you'll learn — you're such an obedient student. Continuing with his pace, his thumb rolled across your swollen sex as the blonde watched expectantly. Making you unwind with every curl of his fingers until finally, a wave of pleasure rode over your body. Cum gushed from your entrance and onto Bakugou's fingers as he massaged your spot. Quickly finding himself mesmerized by your trembling thighs and sounds of ecstasy.

Eagerly removing his fingers once you've calmed, helping you ride out your orgasm before licking them clean. He moved to your dripping cunt, happily lapping at whatever sticky essence overflowed until his lips and chin shined under the overhead lights. As you pant and quiver, he gives you some encouraging pats on your bum.

He stands, and you hear the jingle of his belt before seeing his shadow move closer to you. Pushing his brawny arms through the gap, he loops the leather belt around your neck before fastening it. Bakugou gives an experimental tug and forces the strap upwards. The loop is loose enough for you to breathe but tight enough to leave indents.

He uses his strength to push the slider door open; it moves with ease. The old pesky thing was barely jammed, you probably could’ve gotten up on your own if you tried hard enough. Bakugou stares down as you try to move despite your aches and pains. “dummy doesn’t know basic physics, could’ve opened it yourself, bitch,”

Ignoring him, you try to stand but the blonde grasps the strap of his belt and tugs your body downward — making you fall straight on your knees again. Your body has become numb to the pain; when he presses his foot against your back again, you don’t even flinch. Bakugou kisses his teeth, annoyed that you're still whimpering. His belt is too short to stand, so he squats in front of you.

As you try to find comfort by caressing your aches, he pinches one of your cheeks harshly — forcing you to stare up at him, all teary-eyed and disheveled. The quick flash of his smartphone camera blinds your eyes, flashing white before fading.

"What did you do..?" You ask, but he doesn't need to answer. Instead, Bakugou moves his phone away from your face. "Please don't show that to your friends..."

It should've made him guilty. Hearing your desperate voice with puppy eyes begging him. But it only reminded him why he hated you so much, so weak and fragile yet somehow above him.

"Don't fuckin' look at me like that... I won't," No matter how much of an ass he wanted to be, he could never do that.

You're his personal conquest, the trophy, and the envy of all his friends. Knowing you, you'll probably take your 'goody-two shoes' ass and run to that professor you're close with or someone else he doesn't know. You can't run away yet, he wants to have more fun. Maybe fuck your brains out til' his name is the only thing your dumb ass can remember.

Bakugou stands and decides to bring his phone out once again, this time recording.

"I won't tell a soul, so put on your prettiest face... just for me,"

| ✎ hitoshiyoshi's kinktober masterlist |

[theworldsofgala]

pussy magnet denji x f!reader

m.list

Notes: Denji an oblivious pussy magnet? Unknowingly attracting a steady stream of hoes that he doesn’t even bag half the time out of pure ignorance? It’s more likely than you think…

cw: SFW but no minors on my page pls, college setting, weed smoking, period mention and blood, kinda ooc & silly but it is fluff, about 1.7k words

Thank u greatly for ur help w this @akicore

It seems like you and you alone notice the sheer number of girls Denji Hayakawa hangs out with. The sheer number to flirt with him and touch him and silently beg him to touch them back. You’ve watched women practically drop their panties after a one minute conversation with the guy, which makes you wonder—what is his deal? Why him?

When asked about him, it’s always oh Denji’s that guy I have a class with or I saw him at a party last weekend, he’s kinda funny. A little odd. That’s all you ever hear people say. And yet, everytime you look, Denji seems to be steadily pulling. It’s like it’s some kinda taboo for girls to admit their crushes on him for some reason, so you don’t get where they stem from—yeah he’s got a pretty face, but that can’t be all.

You started making these observations at a house party last weekend, when you pushed into one of the bedrooms—you found it sparsely inhabited by stoners, passing around a few lit joints. Denji was sitting on the bed, stuffing bud into a grinder and talking to some tall guy with a ponytail. Curled around his arm while he worked was some girl you didn’t recognize with a pretty face, her eyes were closed but you noticed she occasionally giggled at things Denji said in conversation. Another girl laid with her head on his lap, scrolling through something on her phone. Everyone’s casual touching seemed normal, nothing to write home about, but you kept watching Denji the rest of the night.

Later you saw something interesting—some short-haired girl crawled up to him while he was sitting on the floor, making a home for herself right between his outstretched legs. He furrowed his brows but let her, rubbing her back a bit after she said something. When you moved closer you could see that she was crying. You tried not to be too nosy, giving space instead of listening closer like you wanted to, but you did see her again right before you went home that night.

She was hooked around Denji’s arm and whispering in his ear—you’d have to be blind not to see she was flirting with him. But then Denji gracefully maneuvered out of her grasp, flashing a cute smile and holding up a peace sign before heading out the door with the ponytail guy—the girl looked devastated. You even heard her go up to her friend, saying “I kept dropping so many hints but he never kissed me!”

Maybe you had a false perception of the guy, but you thought he was a perv. And that girl was pretty! She was pretty and clearly into him. You couldn’t believe Denji didn’t try to take her home.

You start having some breakthroughs about Denji’s appeal the next time you attend your morning class—the only class you share with Denji. He walks in right on time, the professor has already started talking, and just your luck! The only seat left open is the one next to you. He shuffles in and plops into the chair, pushing his unruly hair out of his eyes, and you get a good look at him up close. His eye bags make it look like he hasn’t slept a proper 8 hour night in years and his lips look a little chapped, but you can’t help but note that he really is quite handsome. He looks grungy in a hot way. You try not to stare at him as your professor drones on.

After about ten minutes of talking, she reminds the class that you all need to have a study guide for the final, calling attention to a pile of papers on her desk for anyone who hasn’t gotten one yet. So you start to get up, but then you feel cool air and wetness on the bottom of your dress, gasping when you look down and see that blood has soaked through your underwear and started pooling into the seat of your chair.

Denji jolts up, clearly your gasp has interrupted his process of falling asleep during lecture. He sees the bloody mess on your chair before you can hide it—thankfully, he seems to be the only one to notice. You sit back down quickly, feeling your cheeks burn up while Denji drags air through his teeth—he seems sympathetic. You try avoiding his gaze, but then a giant sweatshirt is thrown over your shoulder, and you peek to see Denji adjusting his newly-exposed, wrinkled button up.

“Wh- is this for me?” you whisper.

“Yeah. I thought you’d wanna borrow it maybe.”

He isn’t looking at you while he talks, which feels considerate, like he’s conscious that you might be embarrassed.

Your cheeks burn even hotter but you slide it on, breathing in his scent–it smells like equal parts laundry detergent and weed.

The professor makes a final call for people who haven’t gotten the study guide yet to come grab one, and you weigh the pros and cons of leaving your stained chair to get it or just trying to make do without, but then Denji is rising from his seat and grabbing it for you, giving you an awkward grin when he slides the paper over.

He doesn’t say anything or really pay you any mind for the rest of class, until people start leaving and you start taking off his sweatshirt. Then he frowns.

“Wait, you can keep it on! I was thinking you’d wanna wear it till you could get a change of clothes or something.”

“No way, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Denji slings his bag over his shoulder, “I do want it back some time though, that hoodie’s my ol’ reliable. I’ll see y’round!”

With that, he leaves the room, which you appreciate so you can wipe off your chair in privacy. Damn. You keep replaying the whole interaction in your head–how he was so nonchalant about helping you…just his whole attitude was… cool. Fuck. You think you have a crush.

The next time you see him you return the sweatshirt (which you’ve washed) and he effortlessly segues the conversation from thanking you to talking about class to inviting you to a “small” kickback his friends are hosting next friday. Of course you accept the invitation. Even discounting his looks, Denji’s charisma alone was impossible to say no to.

When next Friday rolls around, you find yourself high as hell–holding the wall when you walk as you stumble through some stranger’s house. You find a room with a lot of voices inside, and you push open the door to find air so thick and smoky, you’re certain a sober person would get stoned just walking past. The entire space feels like one big hot box, except it’s crowded–there’s so many people crammed inside this bedroom that you’re not sure where you’d even fit. You’re about to turn and leave when you hear your name called—Denji spotted you from the desk chair he’s sitting in by the wall—he’s sharing it with some girl who’s perched on the arm rest. He motions for you to come over with a huge smile.

You have to step around people, mumbling sorry’s and excuse me’s while your already cloudy brain tries to compose itself in all this haze.

“It’s packed in here, Denji, I feel like there’s no room for me,” you say once you reach him.

He pats his lap.

“What’re ya talking about, there’s room right here.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and look down at his legs–he’s got on some black sweatpants and patterned socks with little hearts on them, they look like they were borrowed from a girl. He rubs his thighs like he’s warming them up for you, pursing his lips while he waits for you to sit.

“Won’t bite, I swear.”

So you turn and sit on his knees while he’s giggling at how careful you are, quickly wrapping his arms around you and scooting you back further into him.

The pink-haired girl on the arm rest blows smoke into his face, looking at you.

“He’s lying about biting you–it’ll happen when you least expect it.”

You can’t see him stick out his tongue at her in response, but you watch as he reaches up to flick her forehead. You feel him shake with laughter at her annoyed reaction.

Then he’s reaching around your waist and hooking his head over your shoulder while he grabs a rolling tray, the same one you saw him using at the last party.

“Don’t listen to her, look, I’ll even share my weed.”

You wake up the next morning under the heavy weight of Denji’s arm; he’s spooning you. You turn your head to see that some other pretty girl is also spooning him. Somehow you're not jealous, just happy to be in his arms and happy he’s nice and cozy between you both.

God you have a crush on him, but you’re starting to realize you’d even take just being friends! You want to be around him more no matter what, you think, just to soak up his energy. You’re no better than every other girl in his orbit.

Once you shift a little, Denji and the girl spooning him wake up, and they both smile at you. Their smiles feel warm. Then he has to get up because one of the women hosting the party offered to give him a ride back to his apartment, and she says she’s ready to go. But he’s dragging you up with him, offering you a ride, too, on her behalf.

“C’mon you live by me right? This’ll save you from spending your entire life savings on an uber out here.”

Then he’s swinging your hands between you while this woman leads you to her car. Denji has this air about him that tricks you into thinking you’ve known him your whole life—it’s crazy comforting, so you grip his hand tighter when you slide into the backseat, ensuring he doesn’t let go for the ride. You even feel comfortable enough to ask him if you can just be dropped off at his place–only because it’d be easier for the driver of course! Denji’s eyebrows shoot up, he seems like he’s having a lightbulb moment, and his thumb starts rubbing softly over the back of your hand while he responds—his cheeks flooding with color. “Yeah! Totally, you should just come over, that sounds like a good plan.”

this is truly my dream and hc for him when he’s in college I want this man to have endless hoes idc.. I may make a smutty p2 some day we shall see! Thanks for reading 💘

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Carlos Sainz Jr & Charles Leclerc | Japan, 2022

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Matt Murdock icons

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Titans Season 3

Dick Grayson Icons

Like or reblog if you save.

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Dick Grayson💥

DC Comics

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Skin to Skin

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 2,600

Summary: A boyfriend who has extremely sensitive skin makes reader super self-conscious about her own skin

Trigger warning: None

Written for this request

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