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#and honestly that's the point of this all
tonycries · 2 days
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Hope They Catch Us - G.S.
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Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.
Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.5k
A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.
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Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?
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Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!
---
You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 
Well, usually. 
“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 
Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 
Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 
And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-
“CUT!” 
That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.
“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.
“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”
“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 
“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”
“Ooo kinky~”
It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 
“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”
And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”
If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”
Ah, right. The sex scene. 
How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 
“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 
You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”
God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 
“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 
“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”
Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”
“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”
You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 
Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 
It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”
Rip the clothes off each other, huh?
With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-
“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”
He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 
“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”
“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”
Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.
“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.
But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”
You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”
“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 
“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 
“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”
“At least I can act and-.”
He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 
This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 
“Nuh uh.” 
“Yuh uh.” 
“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”
Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.
Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”
And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”
Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”
Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”
“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”
If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 
“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”
At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 
“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 
“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”
“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 
He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.
Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”
Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”
And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.
But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”
“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”
And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 
Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.
You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-
“Sh-shit, Goj-” 
“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 
Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 
Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 
“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”
“Hmm, I doubt it.”
And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.
“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”
“Record it?”
“Record it.”
“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”
“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”
“Fine by me.”
The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 
“You probably broke-” 
“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 
“It was expensive.”
With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 
“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.
Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 
“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”
“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”
And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.
Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“
“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”
He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 
“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”
Rip! 
He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 
“You’re a tease.”
“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 
“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”
“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 
Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 
Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 
“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 
Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 
And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 
“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 
“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”
“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 
And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”
Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”
“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”
Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.
“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”
And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.
Well, two can play that game.
“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”
Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.
So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”
And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”
“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 
“Go on. Cum f’me.”
And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 
And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 
And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…
“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 
“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”
Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 
“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”
With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 
Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 
One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.
And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-
“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”
And oh you can’t not look at him. 
Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 
“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.
“Sweetheart?”
“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”
And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 
“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”
And then it’s like something snaps.
Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 
“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”
You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 
“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”
Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”
Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 
Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”
That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 
“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 
So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 
Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.
“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 
And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 
Close - too close. 
So, so desperate and debauched.
“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 
“Ngh- f-fuck you.”
“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 
“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”
“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 
“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”
“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 
“Doesn’t have to.”
Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 
Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 
“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 
What? 
It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?
“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.
And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”
Those weren’t from the script either.
Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.
It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.
The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”
He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.
“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”
“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”
“No.”
“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”
Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.
Not anymore, at least. 
---
The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.
Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.
“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.
Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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arijackz · 2 days
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PICK A CARD: Your FS' Secret Kinks
❦ “She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air." - Raymon Chandler, The Big Sleep
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.
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p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
✦ Pile One ✦
Poor lil pooh pooh. This person struggles to “fill their cups up” so they get off on denying themselves pleasure. They secretly like the feeling of hitting whatever rock bottom looks like to them. Honestly, they want to be saved. They are wallowing at the bottom of a well, waiting for their savior to swoop in and throw them a rope. 
In a more literal sense, they want a person to be their reason to live. Their reason to feel daylight on their skin again. Everyone and everything around them is unsatisfying and “fake”. They want something real to coax them out of their hell and entice them with all the thrilling things life has to offer. 
However, they also like this dark and brooding side of themselves. They have a bit of a corruption kink.
They fantasize about a virginal angel coming down to save them, but they end up convincing the angel to sink down to their level. 
They like exciting, spontaneous people who are willing to jump up and run out the door to do something fun at any moment, but think innocent fun. Like going to the movies to theater hop, and getting away without paying. Or, running around the Target parking lot in shopping carts and trying not to bang into cars. Maybe even steal a few street signs. 
Innocent childhood fun that you’d see in early 90s movies. But add a sadistic twist to it that only they are aware of. 
You would be the innocent virgin (doesn’t have to be true, it's their fantasy) who is unknowingly leading this beast (also not true, they are just extremely self-deprecating) to your pretty little happy places which they plan to desecrate.
They want to fuck you in your family home and make a mess of your childhood bed, making you scream so loud that you’re family starts to look at you differently. They want to take you to your favorite movie spots where you usually chill and hangout with your friends and turn it into a place where all you can think about is them covering your mouth in the back of the theater while you’re squirming in their lap, trying to escape out of their grip as they edge you to the new Marvel release. 
They have a kink for turning all of your innocent, fun moments into their very own filthy fantasies.
Ps. Fisting came out of the blue so lube up!
Come To Me, My Senseless Angel
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✦ Pile Two ✦
I don’t believe this is a future spouse, to be honest. This might be a situationship you need to move past. They seem emotionally immature, or at least this is a side of them that exclusively comes out when they’re aroused. 
They can be quite abrasive and feel like they are constantly under attack so they’re incredibly defensive. They have a history of lashing out at their loved ones when they feel overwhelmed and get so blinded by their emotions that they disregard their affection for their partners and say really unforgettable, harmful words which permanently alters the connection for the worse. 
They carry guilt from these actions and are in a constant state of regret. In this state, their sense of pleasure is a little twisted. They get turned on by causing a genuine issue in the relationship. They like the idea of pushing you to your limit where you’re this 🤏  close to your breaking point and at your absolute lowest. It’s when you reach your rock bottom and realize the need to move away from this person and you scream out, “I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS.”
They like to grovel. You know that cycle where somebody fucks up and then they’re in the dog house buying flowers and being extra fluffy just to get in the victim’s good graces so they can do the same thing over again. So far, pile one and two’s respective partners like to feel like shit. They secretly like the moment where they completely fuck up a relationship and have to beg on their hands and knees to get their person back orrrrrr they get off on emotionally tearing someone down to the point where they get on their knees to bed for this person’s attention. 
Either way, there's a lot of fucked psychological issues underneath this fantasy that I’m not unpacking here because it differs from person to person. 
In its best light, this person glorifies struggle love. At its worst, this person is purposefully emotionally abusive with the intent to tear their partner down for their own sexual gratification. 
They’re conscious enough to know their actions are toxic but don’t have the emotional maturity to work past their actions. They’re at the phase where they’re just aware and are like “I know I’m shitty but that’s just who I am. If they stick with me and the sex is good, it’s meant to be.”
I’m honestly getting twitter relationship hypotheticals with this one. Iykyk.
They’re also an edgelord. Less in an internet cockroach way and more in a witty- can be funny if done well- way, but they get pleasure from shocking people nonetheless. This energy can be directed toward you to piss you off and annoy you with the intent of getting in your pants later. 
I’ve been guided to switch the conversation briefly: If this resonates and is someone you are dealing with. It is time to move on. This person gets gratification from hurting you and will not get past that high of tearing down a relationship and then having a messy recovery. They have their own issues to work through and cannot see how they are hurting you. There is no future with this person, they came into your life to teach you a lesson about your self-value. That cycle has run its course and it's time to move on.  
To be honest, I’m not a fan of this person and don’t even want to list the explicit kinks that came out but I will just in case this message is for you but you’re not sure.
Random messages: Hot tub/pool sex, hair pulling, break down crying, interracial, milk, broken condom, “i fucking hate you”, “whore”, mirror, drunk sex, complaining, smack a bitch, twitter
P.S. You’re too sexy for the bullshit! There is bigger and greater out there, you just need to believe that for yourself!
This person will not get a mood board out of me.
✦ Pile Three ✦
Okay, so this person has some deep religious guilt. This is a male presenting person. I am being clear with their sex because it plays a role in this reading. They have some majorly repressed feminine energy. They may even be attracted to the same sex. 
This is a fs reading, so they are likely bi, pansexual, or trans. Either way, their family is close-minded and is not supportive of them. They were forced to leave home so they could finally live their truth. They have lived their entire life fitting somebody else’s narrative. They were the hypermasculine bro type to “cover up” their femininity. 
So, they have a kink for hyperfeminity. It’s almost to the point where they obsess over the caricature of girlhood. I see lots of pink, high heels, full-glam, all-day mall shopping, pinup curls, flashy jewelry, sleepovers, day spas, that scene in Scott Pilgrim where that girl is like “SHE’S PROBABLY LIKE 25!”, and everything else that gets associated with “girlhood” nowadays. 
They fantasize about you in your receptive energy, being waited on and cared for hand and foot. They like to observe the way you move. Everything about you and your feminine aura is incredibly alluring to them. The way with each breath your breasts fall, the way your hips swat with each step, the cute way you match your accessories with your outfits. They notice everything about you. 
You know those paintings of wealthy women lying on their sides and being fed grapes? That. They’re not in the serving role, they're the painter. Their kink is capturing you in those everyday moments where the world seems to be waiting on you like you’re the collective’s queen.
They see femininity in a higher light than the general population. They see women as automatically deserving of this type of care, they also want this care. 
They have a secret hard-on for pregnant women and women with swollen breasts. They have a lactation kink. They fantasize about cumming in you over and over again. They see you as a Goddess, so they want to see you masturbate at church on an altar, like you're waiting to be worshipped. 
A lot of their fantasies, they’re not even included in. It’s just you looking God-like and being worshipped by the world around you. This person may hate when you wear clothes. They act like the fabric is committing a sin by covering your body. They just want to capture your essence. Like an admirer and a student.
P.S. Dick game goes CRAZY. They watch a lot of women-focused porn to study what gets a woman off. Like Maddie in Euphoria, here is there to study.
Pretty In Pink
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✦ Pile Four ✦
WE GOT A PLEASURE DOM IN THE BUILDING Y’ALL STAY CALM. As my mama would say, they love your dirty drawls!
You could do no wrong in this person’s eyes. They’re the golden retriever type. Head empty, leading with heart and IN LOVE>>>>>
You are the pot of gold and the end of the rainbow they’re chasing. They appreciate a good fling but they’ve never felt this before. The emotions you stir in them are unprecedented, this is puppy, sandbox love that most people lose touch with after life jades them.
This is raw love at its most unprocessed. I taste honey. 
They have a kink for the power you have over them. It’s like you have a carrot on a stick and they’re the pig being led to a love den they can’t escape. And they’ll happily be the squealing pig in every lifetime they get with you. This is a soul yearning. 
You will know this person because they will proactively pursue you and they will have no doubts in their mind about it. They are really attracted to your physical form, your curves. Even if you’re on the slimmer side, they like your structure and the dips in your spine. They’ll stare at you when you’re talking and zone out, thinking about how attractive they find you. 
They’re not used to having to try to get someone to sleep with them. They have to put effort towards you and they like that. This person is downright thirsty and craves intimacy with you.
Their fantasies aren’t even dirty, they’re passionate. They want to put you in a mating press, with your knees pressed all the way up beside your ears. They want to penetrate (could be with a toy) deeply and touch that gooey part of you that makes you see stars. 
They want to see an imprint of them in your lower belly. Any position where you’re in their arms is a go for them because they like having you. They want every moment to be just you and them away from the world. So very sweet and intimate. They also love marking you, expect lots of hickeys.
Ignore them from time to time too (healthily, these conditions should be discussed beforehand)! They see you as the ultimate prize, so if you delay their satisfaction, they’ll feel like they’re chasing again, which gets them off. They like to feel like they’re convincing you to sleep with them. You both are consenting, but they like the idea of you having better things to do and they’re trying to convince you to stay and party with them. 
They are very action-oriented and love movement. Anything that involves an adventure together, they are down for. 
PS. Surprise them with a bubble bath together, they’ll love that. And tease them while pulling their hair a bit!
Ode To My Darling Sun
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evilminji · 11 hours
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You knooooowwww... >.>
The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...
Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?
How many people will dig deeper?
If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.
So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?
Well...
Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?
And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.
They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.
And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.
Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?
Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?
YOU COVER IT!
It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.
Danny was Not Prepared ™.
He loves it though.
Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr
If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.
He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.
Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!
He's probably gonna come back!
Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!
Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.
It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.
Who hired this man?
WHY!?
I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter
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theemporium · 3 days
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[3.5k] after his iconic first race win in formula one, lando gets to celebrate with his three favourite people. or, the charlandax smut i accidentally promised after a lando win with a lestappen podium. (smut)
note: this is fucking filthy and i kinda feel like i need to go to a confession booth. okay bye, nobody perceive me after this. she’s also unedited so beware (I’m too lazy to reread and edit rn)
.
Lando Norris felt like he was on top of the fucking world but maybe that was just how it felt from the top step of the podium.
It hadn’t really hit him yet, despite his ears ringing from his own screams and the cheers from the crowd and the fans and his own team. It didn’t feel real until the national anthem began playing through the speakers, until he heard his team singing along, until he realised this was his reality. 
He was a Grand Prix winner. 
Finally. 
Surreal was the only word to describe how he felt. After years of second-place and third-place podium finishes, of people telling him his time would come, of having so many close calls, he did it. He fucking did it. And he didn’t just skim a win, it was fully fucking his as he soared past the chequered flag.
And for once, Lando basked in the knowledge that all eyes were on him. It didn’t give him that prickling, itching feeling under his skin. It didn’t make him want to  hunch his shoulders up to his ears. It didn’t make the little voice in the back of his head send him spiralling over every little thing he could be doing wrong. 
He had just won the Miami Grand Prix and everyone was staring at him and he fucking loved it.
But it meant more than just a win to Lando, it meant so much more than a trophy to add to his collection back home. It was about the years spent achieving this dream. It was about the effort and the support he had from the team to reach this point. It was about sharing this moment and standing on the podium with two people who meant the fucking world to him with the third watching all three of them from down below. 
It meant the fucking world to Lando. 
It was a blur of happiness and excitement and adrenaline as he stood on that top step. It felt like he was in a movie when the trophy was handed to him, the number one staring back at him like it was reminding him he had done it. It felt like a fucking dream when the champagne celebration started, his hand barely wrapped around the neck of the bottle when Charles and Max drenched and drowning him in champagne.
It was completely fucking unbelievable this was finally his reality.
Time was a blur of big smiles, loud cheers and so many people congratulating him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, it made something in his chest burst with pride as he felt his team slap him on the back as he walked through the garage. He felt like his life was complete when you threw your arms around him, tugging him close until your bodies felt like one.
“M’so cold,” he murmured as he wound his arms around you, holding you closer as he buries his face into your neck for some privacy, despite the countless cameras pointing at him.
“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered back, just loud enough for him to hear because he was the only one who mattered in that moment. “This is the first of many.”
He sniffled, feeling his throat close up a bit but he just squeezed you tighter when the words didn’t come out as smoothly as he wanted. 
However, you were pulled away from him seconds later as he was directed towards the camera. With media duties and team debriefs and many more commitments, he didn’t have time to stop and celebrate with the people he wanted. He had to perform for the cameras, for the fans, for the people watching before he could. 
And honestly, he couldn't complain. There were worse problems to have.
His brain was running a million miles an hour, so many thoughts and feelings and emotions to try and comprehend that he barely noticed the other person in his driver’s room until the door shut behind him and he felt a pair of lips on his. 
“I am so proud of you, mon champion,” Charles murmured against his lips, the kiss short-lived due to the huge smile on his face. He pulled back enough to look at Lando properly, his hands holding the Brit’s face. “So, so proud of you.”
Lando felt his cheeks burn. “M’glad you and Max were up there with me,” he admitted, that funny feeling in his chest returning before he glanced around the room noticing that Charles was the only one in his driver room. “Where are the others?” Pause. “How did you even sneak in here?”
“I have my ways,” Charles answered vaguely, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And I’m here to help you hurry up. They are waiting in the car.” 
Lando snorted. “And they sent you to hurry me up?” 
“I may have come third, mon amour, but I’m still fast.” 
Despite his words, it took a few more minutes of Charles pressing kisses all over his face and mumbling a load of French that Lando didn’t understand before he was finally able to grab his belongings and make it out of the McLaren motorhome. 
His whole body was buzzing with energy, far too hyped up to even care about the way his face burned when he climbed into the backseat of Charles’ race weekend car, unable to wipe the smile off his face. 
This. 
This was what he had been waiting for. 
This moment to be with the people who loved more than his heart knew he was capable of. A moment to be with the people who believed in him no matter what, even when the rest of the world doubted him. 
And if Lando was being so completely honest, he was so lost in the buzz of his win that he didn’t think anything about your hand resting on his upper thigh. He was still lost in the race a few hours ago, still lost in the feeling of crossing the line and hearing Will’s voice over the radio confirming he secured his first Formula One Grand Prix win. 
So lost in that moment that he barely had a chance to drop his backpack on the floor of Max’s huge hotel suite before the Dutchman was reaching for him. With the privacy of the hotel room door locked from the rest of the world, Max didn’t hold back as he raked his hand through Lando’s curls. His fingers twisted in his hair, tugging sharply as his teeth nipped the Brit’s bottom lip. 
Lando couldn’t help himself when he let out a whine.
“Fuck,” Max groaned, tugging on his hair again as he watched Lando’s eyes flutter shut. “Look at our race winner, hm? So pretty, schat.”
Lando’s lips parted but words were lost on him. Instead, his eyes darted where you saddled up against Max’s side, head resting on his shoulder as you looked at Lando with a massive grin. 
“I think you broke him,” you teased, a faux pout on your lips. “Guess that throws all our plans out the window.”
Lando blinked before quickly shaking his head. “I—no, wait, what plans?”
Max grinned. “Your reward, baby. Didn’t think we were gonna celebrate your big day, huh?”
“I—” Lando paused, feeling something deep in his stomach twist in desire. “I just…I don’t know. I thought we were gonna go out…or something.”
“We could,” Charles spoke up as he slipped in behind Lando, his hands on the younger boy’s waist. “If that’s what you want. We can go out and celebrate with everyone else.”
Lando swallowed. “Or?”
“Or,” you repeated, your eyes lingering on his kiss-swollen lips. “You let us treat you like a proper race winner.”
“And what does that treatment include?” Lando asked, because that was just who he was. That little brat in him that wanted to know his options, that wanted to know exactly how he was being rewarded, who wanted to know exactly what was getting done to him. The little brat in him that was mouthy and sassy and usually got put in his place—that wanted to be put in his place.
And Max knew that. He knew that if he reached down, Lando was probably half-hard already. He knew that no matter what he said, Land would be down for it. He could see the glint in the Brit’s eyes, that realisation of what he could have without realising it. 
“Anything you want,” Max murmured, his thumb lightly tracing along Lando’s bottom lip. “You’re the winner, Lando. Our winner.”
Anything you want. 
That was his limit—completely fucking endless. He had all the control in the palm of his hands to do whatever he pleased, whatever he desired, whatever he fucking wanted. 
But that wasn’t what Lando wanted. He didn’t want to be in charge. He didn’t want to be the person making the calls and decisions. That wasn’t his role in the bedroom and he never really wanted to be. He liked being the one who got to lay back, the one that people tried to tame and dominate only to realise he didn’t listen as easily as people wanted. 
He liked being the one that people worked to break. 
So, that was exactly what Max gave to him and Lando only slightly regretted his decision as he slumped back against the Dutchman, grinding his ass back against the older boy’s straining cock as he threw his head back against Max’s shoulder.
“Please, please, please,” Lando whined, trying to buck his hips forwards but Max kept his body in place, just where he wanted him. “S’too much.”
“I know, schatje,” Max mused, pressing a lingering kiss at the base of his neck just to hear Lando let out a small moan at the contact. “But look how pretty they look for you, all for you. You don’t want them to stop, do you?” 
But Lando couldn’t bring himself to respond. 
“None of that,” Max muttered, squeezing Lando’s sides to get the boy to listen. “Thought my winner was gonna be good for me, huh? Look at them, Lando. Look how good they are being for you. Look at how much they are enjoying this.”
The boy only managed to let out a whimper as he fluttered his eyes open, his chin tucking into his chest as he looked down at the sight Max was demanding of him. 
And, fuck, it made his knees buckle.
The two of you were absolute fucking messes. It felt like something out of a porno, one that would have Lando panting and whining and fantasising about because never once did he think it was realistic. And yet, here you and Charles were, looking like something out of his deepest desires. 
He couldn’t focus on one of you, it would have been a crime to not stare and ogle you both. The way you both looked utterly perfect on your knees in front of him, glossy eyes and flushed cheeks and looking so fucking blissed out as you both worshipped his cock—like you were fulfilling a purpose, like this was what the two of you were made for. 
And it was messy as fuck, something that maybe would have been gross to everyone else in the world, but Lando thought it was so fucking hot. The evidence of his previous orgasms splattered across you both, covering your lips and chins and naked chests. The way your lips wrapped around the head of his cock as Charles licked down the underside of his cock until he nosed Lando's balls. The way Charles had one hand wrapped around his leaking cock, pumping and stroking himself as you squeezed and played with your tits like it would give you some relief. 
But it wasn’t about your pleasure or Charles’ or Max’s. 
It was all about Lando. 
“Such good sluts on their knees for you,” Max muttered, lips brushing against his ear as his warm breath tickled against Lando’s skin. “Usually that’s you, schat. Getting on your knees for me, doing whatever I tell you.”
“Fuck,” he let out in a breathless whimper, turning his head to try and nuzzle his face into Max’s neck. 
“Do you like this, Lando? Like seeing them be such whores for your cock? So desperate and needy?” Max continued, his hands tightening on the younger boy’s waist as he looked down at you and Charles.
You let out a whine at his words, your thighs clenched together and your eyes fluttering shut as you traced your tongue along the slit of his cock. Your moans vibrated around his cock, leaving the boy a puddle underneath your touch as Charles placed wet, open-mouthed kisses along his balls. 
“Bet they would stay there all night if you wanted them to,” Max mused as his eyes caught teary green eyes staring up at him, desperation shining in the pretty colour of them. “Bet Charles would love to take your cock down his pretty throat, he always does it so well for me. Hm, amour? Think you could take our pretty winner’s cock like a good boy?”
The sound Charles let out was pitiful and straight out of a fucking porno.
“Max,” Lando breathed out, his hands reaching back to try and grab onto the Dutchman. “Please, I-I need…”
“What do you need?” Max questioned, squeezing his sides. “Need more than their mouths, baby? Or maybe you need more than that.”
Lando felt his whole face burn as he let out a shameless moan when one of Max’s hands began wandering, when his fingers brushed along his skin before squeezing the fat of his ass. 
“The champagne wasn’t enough, hm? Maybe we need to fill you up,” Max suggested, like it was something as casual as talking about dinner options. “Bet you’d feel so nice and tight around me, baby. Maybe let Charles fill your pretty throat instead.”
“Please,” Lando whined.
“Yeah, you want that?” He could feel Max’s smile against his skin. “Let our pretty girl bounce on your cock whilst we fill you up? She would look so pretty sitting on top of you.”
Lando nodded his head vigorously, his nails slightly digging into Max’s skin. “I need it, Max, need it so bad.”
Max’s teeth scraped along the side of his neck. “Beg for it.” 
So he did. 
He begged for it until his voice was hoarse and his legs were shaking and his babbles were practically incoherent. He begged until he felt Max’s lips on his skin, joined by Charles and yours moments later as you three kissed and worshipped every inch of his body. He begged until his face was burning red, his blush spreading down his neck and chest as you praised him—your race winner—until he couldn’t take it any more.
He begged for it as you held his face, prepping kisses all over his face whilst Max worked him open. 
He begged for it as Charles marked along his neck and chest to help him relax as Max slowly slid inside him, stretching him open until he was a whimpering mess.
He begged for it as you slowly sunk down on his cock, your cunt already soaking and slick with your own arousal as he buried himself inside you. 
He begged for it until his hands were gripping Charles’ thighs, nails digging into his skin as he urged his cock further down his throat until he felt fucking full.
“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, rocking your hips back and forth as you let your hands skim along his skin. Your fingers traced along the planes of his abs, watching them softly clench under your touch before you traced along his sides. You kept your hands moving, feeling the need to touch every fucking inch of him as he preened and squirmed under your touch. “You look so perfect like this.” 
Lando let out a muffled moan around Charles’ cock.
“Letting us fill you up, make you feel so good,” you continued, the walls of your pussy clenching around him. “This is what our race winner deserves. So pretty and fast today, baby, it’s so hot.”
One of his hands let go of Charles, blindly reaching out towards you until you caught the hint to intertwine your fingers together. You raised it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss onto the back of his hand and something about the soft gesture whilst his body was being fucked into an inch of his life made the boy spiral. 
He couldn’t do anything but just take it, let the overwhelming pleasure wash over him until his whole body felt like it was on fire. His nerve endings felt like they had been turned up beyond the dial, like every touch was more thrilling than he could ever imagine. The words of praise was a muffled mess around him, three voices all mixed together as he felt hands all over his body. He felt safe, he felt full, he felt complete. 
It was a blur of too much pleasure and excitement and gratification when he finally came, white spots dotting his vision as he felt himself completely spill inside you whilst your cunt clenched around him, as Max’s cock hit the perfect spot deep inside him with every thrust. He was so lost in his own orgasm, in his own moans and whines and noises to fully realise the domino effect he started. 
To really appreciate the sight of you coming on his cock, bouncing up and down on his cock whilst your tits moved with each thrust. To really enjoy the sensation of Max coming deep inside him, squeezing him so hard that he was sure his skin would bruise the next day. To watch the way Charles stroked himself a few more times before spilling over his chest, just for you to lean down and lick up the mess until you leaned down to kiss him senseless. 
To be completely honest, he was waiting to wake up and realise this whole day was a dream. 
But he blinked. And blinked once more for good measure. And your smiling face was still there to reassure him this was real, that everything about today was real. 
“Hey,” he whispered, voice a little rough and hoarse. 
“Hey, baby,” you grinned back at him as you raised your hand to gently cup his face, your thumb wiping away a few stray tears that slipped out. “How are you feeling, Mr Race Winner?”
And despite the exhaustion settled deep in his bones, Lando beamed at you. “Feel like I’m the king of this fucking world.”
You giggled. “Then our job here is complete.” 
Lando huffed out a laugh, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to fight the urge to curl up and sleep for the next week straight. 
“Don’t tell me that’s you done for the night,” Max’s voice spoke from somewhere else in the room, somewhere away from the bed but Lando couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. “There’s a whole city wanting to celebrate with you tonight.”
“Ugh, being a race winner is so much work,” Lando whined playfully, reaching for you to pull you closer before you could pull away from him. “Let’s just stay here forever.”
“All a part of the title, mon amour,” Charles teased as he settled down beside the younger boy on the bed. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss to Lando’s forehead. “I heard the other drivers making bets on who could buy you the most shots.”
Lando let out a breath. “Fuck, they are gonna try to kill me.”
“We wouldn’t let that happen,” you assured him, but he could hear the smile in your voice. “I’m sure Max would join you.”
“Thanks, schat,” Max grumbled as he wandered back into the room, a wet washcloth in his hand. “We have a few hours before we are meant to meet everyone anyways. Have a nap, you can shower when you wake up.”
Lando blinked his eyes open, a cheeky smile on his face. “Alone?”
Max rolled his eyes. “It’s never enough for you.”
“I’m a high maintenance guy,” Lando replied. 
“We know,” you murmured with a snort, only to gasp when he pinched your side. “Hey!”
“You can’t yell at me, I’m a race winner,” he shot back at you, grinning wider when you rolled your eyes. 
“Yes, that is exactly how this works,” Charles snorted as he slumped down on the pillow beside Lando, reaching for the Brit to curl up beside him. “That and club blowjobs.”
“It was one time,” Max grumbled. “And it wasn’t even my idea!”
“I didn’t regret it for a second,” you smiled shamelessly at the Dutchman before raising your hand, trying to pull him down onto the bed with the three of you. “C’mon, we can clean up properly later. I wanna cuddle.” 
“So needy.”
“In the wise words of race winner Lando Norris, I’m a high maintenance guy.”
“Hell yeah, baby,” Lando murmured, his cheek pressed into the pillow with a sleepy smile on his face. “Someone stitch that onto a pillow.” 
“Please go to sleep before I gag you both.” 
“They would probably like that, mon amour.”
“You too, Charles.” 
“Always so bossy, Verstappen.”
.
918 notes · View notes
pinkflower2003 · 3 days
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STAY
Max Verstappen x Horner!Reader
Warnings : Angst, walking out on pregnant girlfriend? idk, dick Max? (honestly idk why i thought of this the thing just came into my head) Girlies i’m so sorry if this is shit this is my first time writing for someone if F1, this is just fiction idk all the facts.
Summary : As Christian Horners daughter, you were bound to meet Max Verstappen. What happens when you get pregnant when he is on the verge of becoming world champion and he doesn’t want to become a father? What happens when 3 years later after leaving each other’s lives, you get invited to the Grand Prix and he sees you again, this time with a little boy who looks just like him?
This is my first ever imagine on here so it’s probably really bad but i’m trying yall, we’re gonna work on it.
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When you first met Max, you were both 18, he had started driving for red bull and you had started going to your dad’s, Christian Horner’s, work for some experience.
Racing wasn’t something you were exactly into, but it was practically your families life, so you grew up on it. At 18, you had decided to have a go at working in PR & media, and the RedBull F1 company was the perfect place to do that. Then you met Max, and your whole experience there changed.
Up until that point, you had never met a boy like him, he was so different, so passionate about the sport and you had to admit to yourself that you liked being around him, and he liked being around you.
And a relationship started around a year after you first met, a whole year of shy smiles to each other, hugs in excitement when he won, ones that lasted slightly longer than they should have. A year after you met was when Max finally had the guts to ask you out, and you, privately, got giddy with excitement.
He was your first everything. Your first date, your first kiss, your first boyfriend, and the first one you had sex with.
You couldn’t get enough of each other, you were utterly in love with him and everyone could see it. Max was never very good at showing his emotions, until it came to you, that’s when he completely changed.
Then one day, 3 years into your relationship, two pink lines turned up on a stick. You and Max had always been careful, a baby wasn’t what was wanted or needed at the time, you both knew that, Max was focusing on his racing career, he was determined to be the very best he could without letting anything getting in his way, and becoming at father at 21 would do just that.
But he deserved to know, and in your heart you hoped that the love the two of you shared would make everything okay, that it would all work out. But it didn’t.
Max freaked out, saying he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be a father, he wouldn’t be a father. He struggled with his relationship with his father growing up, he had barely gotten over that, and now his own child? No, he refused. And so you left, saying goodbye to him, you left.
And so you went back home to England, leaving Max behind, starting a new life with your baby. It wasn’t until 3 years later that Max would finally see your baby.
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Otto had just turned 3, and he was the light of your world, his baby blue eyes and light blonde hair in slight curls was the thing that got you through each day.
Dropping Otto off at nursery, you got a phone-call from your dad.
“Hey sweetheart,”
“Hey dad, everything okay?”
“Listen, i know you’re probably going to say no, and that’s fine, but how about you and Otto coming to the Grand Prix this year? I know how much he likes cars, maybe he’d like to come and see them. He always go on about it, I thought it might be a nice idea to bring him out.”
You sighed, you knew how much your dad wanted to involve his grandson in the sport. Christian would always sit and watch the races reruns with him on tv when he got home, and played Disney’s cars with him when they saw each other. You knew your dad just wanted to do something special for Otto, but was it really worth the risk of seeing Max again, going through all the heartache again.
“I don’t know dad-“
“Max won’t be anywhere near you guys Y/N, I promise, you won’t have to see him, he won’t even know you guys are there.” You sighed again, know your dad was really wanting you to do this.
“You promise?” you asked, almost like a child.
“I promise.”
“I’ll think about it.”
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And so you thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it until it kept you up at night.
It was only 48 before the Grand Prix that you had decided to go, and it was a tough decision, but for the sake of your son’s happiness, you gave in.
Getting there, you were greeted by your dad and his wife, Geri, who both immediately pulled you and your son into a hug. Geri looked at your son, “he’s gotten so big! I remember the day he was born, it seems like just yesterday.”
You smiled at her, it was true, the first 3 years of his life flew by in the blink of an eye, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest, not only for yourself, but for Max who never got to witness it. He would never get to see his first steps, his first smile, all because he didn’t want to. Everything in you said to be angry at Max, and while you were, you felt sad for him, because how sad that he would never get to see how amazing your son was.
Your dad took Otto out of your arms, cuddling his grandson who had a lightening mcqueen backpack on and a redbull baseball cap on. “Ready Ottie? We’re gonna go and see some cars, you excited?”
Otto squealed in delight, he fist pumped the air. “Yeah! Cars that go zoom?” He asked, in his sweet little voice.
“Cars that go very zoom,” Christian replied to him.
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Running into Max almost seemed inevitable, even when your dad had promised you that he would be no where near you or Otto, but you hadn’t expected it to be because of your son running up to him.
Before the race began, before Max got into his car, before he would even be able to realise you were there, your dad had taken you and Otto to see the car, knowing your little boy would love it. Christian had promised you Max wouldn’t be there, he would be off getting ready for the race and doing some media responsibilities.
And he was, you and your little boy were enjoying yourselves, Otto go the chance to sit in the car, you and your dad got photos with him, he was giggling none stop, and you couldn’t help but feel this is how it could’ve been, just with Max being the one to show his little boy around.
Taking Otto out the car, your dad put him on the ground, holding his hand to keep him there. You and your dad talked more about the car, admiring it. You both hadn’t notice that the door had opened, and Otto had run straight towards the person that had opened it.
“Y/N?” the voice said, causing you to turn around, going pale.
Max was stood there, your little boy at his feet, his little baseball cap falling slightly over his eyes from the impact of running into Max’s legs.
You stood there speechless, not sure what to say after all these years. Your dad ran to get Otto, who giggled as his grandad picked him up, while Max just stared at him.
“He-Is that?” Max said, breathless pointing to your child, but you just stood there, heart beating out of your chest.
Otto made grabbing hands towards you, trying to get out of his grandad’s arms, “mummy!” He screeched, and you took his out of your dad’s hands, gathering his things in your hands, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“I’m sorry, coming here was a mistake.” You said quietly, trying to walk out the door where Max was stood.
“No wait!” Max said, not wanting you to leave, but you were now angry. He didn’t want you to leave now, but it was okay three years ago? Your heart had shattered when he wanted nothing to do with your baby, and it seemed to have shattered all over seeing him once again. “What’s his name?” He asked, staring at your little boy, who had the same eyes as him.
“Otto Max Horner.”
You could see Max trying to calm his breathing, his hands slightly shaking. Otto looked at Max, giving him a goofy smile, not understanding what was happening.
“Stay,” Max said to the both of you. “Just stay under after the race. Please just let me talk to you, let me talk to him, just stay for the race.”
You just smiled at him, sadly.
“You should have asked me to stay three years ago Max, it’s too late for that now.”
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evie-sturns · 2 days
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dreams - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: the last thing you expected when you stayed over for the night at your best friend matt's house, was him rubbing himself against the mattress while moaning your name in his sleep, you obviously have to help him out?
contains: wet dream, switch!matt, teasing, fluff.
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i've known matt since middle school, hes been my best friend since then. i stay round at his house often, its like my happy place when i get to be around him.
tonight is one of those nights where i stay round at matt's, we just finished watching stranger things season 4 for the 90th time and now we're heading up the stairs to his room.
"that show, is a fucking cinematic master piece." matt scoffs, walking up the stairs close behind me.
"it came out like 2 years ago matt, how are you not sick of it?" i laugh, my brandy melville shorts riding up my ass slightly as i reach the top of the stairs.
"it just never gets old," matt replies, i swing open the door to his bedroom and jump into his silk sheets.
"why does it smell so good in here?" i groan with a grin,
"don'tt lie." matt smiles, "i'm honestly not!! it does smell good for once."
"hey- i am a hygienic man." he points a finger at me before tearing his shirt off from over his head, he sorts through his wardrobe, looking through all the individually folded shirts.
he sets on a blue loose shirt, with the text 'it's been one of those days'
"cute!" i smile at him, he smiles back before jumping into bed beside me, launching me a couple inches into the air.
"matthew!" i hit him playfully, "oops." he teases back.
i lay my head on his chest, matt fidgets with my hair, i slowly drift off to sleep with his long fingers intertwined in my locks.
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3:38am
my eyes squint open as noises from the other side of the bed fill my ears.
matt is on the edge of the mattress, about 2 feet between us.
"fuck- mfgh, oh--" he moans lightly,
his hips repeatedly thrust into the mattress, his face is buried in the pillow but his hair flops with each thrust.
"y/n- please!" he whines,
my stomach sinks as soon as i hear my name fall from his lips,
was he having a sex dream about me?
i know matt would be embarrassed if he knew i was watching him, but i was kind of.. enjoying this? i've always thought about matt in ways i wouldn't like to admit, but he is hot.
i decide to wake him up, i place my manicured hand on his shoulder. i grip his boney shoulder tight and shake him.
"matt!" i whisper-yell,
his thrusts instantly stop, and his head snaps up. his cheeks are flushed red and his lips are a raw pink.
he looks down at the wet spot on the mattress, then back up at me.
"uh- um yeah? you okay?" matt stutters out, trying to play it off.
"what was that sweetheart?" i whisper, sitting up. matt rolls over onto his back, i take the opportunity which is in front of me and sit up, i straddle his thighs and look down at him
he attempts to string together a coherent sentence, but only random words come out "im sorry- you heard that?" he squeezes out.
i drag my nails over the large tent in his pants
matt squeezes out a loud whimper, "i think i heard something come out of your mouth while you were rubbing yourself on the mattress." i say, my voice soft.
"mm-" matt hums, rubbing his eyes
"i heard.. my name?" i tease, matt covers his face with his hands
"'m sorry- 'm so sorry" matt whines.
"tell me about your dream matt."
he shakes his head, i run my hand over his bulge again and matt starts talking
"you- were saying how- how you needed me, and-and i was fucking you- 'm sorry!" matt says, his voice barely audible and he cuts himself off.
"thats okay baby." i smile, tugging down his waistband.
"please-" matt groans.
"i know." i say, reaching out and grabbing his length. his tip is the same shade as his pink lips and leaking precum, he has veins travelling up his dick.
"you have a pretty dick matt." i tell him, pumping slowly and running a thumb over his slit.
"thank- thank you" matt breathes,
"you want me to ride you matt?" i whisper into his ear, matt nods frantically, i pull my shorts to the side slightly,
"such a whore, dreaming about fucking your best friend." i scoff, scooting up and hovering above his tip. i sink down onto his cock,
i bottom out quickly, the craving for his dick overpowering me. he stretches me well, his tip resting against my cervix.
"matt" i whine, matt lets out loud whimpers as he balls up the sheets in his hands.
"so- tight" matt mumbles, i bounce up and down on his length. "fuck! mfgh" he almost yells,
"you dream about me often matt?" i say with a light moan
"yes- yes!" matt whines, "how often" i press him, "god- every couple days?" he replies.
"i want you to fuck me, can you do that for me?" i whisper, matt nods frantically before flipping us over,
my back hits the mattress, matt doesn't waste time to start thrusting into me, just like how he was into the mattress 10 minutes ago,
his hair bounces on his forehead with each thrust, matt reaches his tattoed arm up to my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.
"im- im close" i warn him,
"i know, 'feel you clenching." matt breathes out,
i clench around him, matt reaches his spare hand down and traces small circles around my sensitive clit.
i feel my orgasm wash over me, my legs shake as i arch my back off the bed, feeling all of my built up pleasure release at once.
matt instantly pulls out and paints my stomach with warm white streaks, he flops down next to me with a groan.
matt pulls me onto his chest, breathing heavily into his ear.
"are you okay?' i ask him with a small giggle,
"more than okay-" matt sighs with a smile.
we lay in silence for a couple minutes before matt breaks it with a muffled laugh
"whats funny matt?" i sigh with a grin, exhausted and fucked out.
"i think if someone told me yesterday that i would be fucking my best friend at 4am tomorrow i would've laughed in their face."
i let out a loud laugh, "thats pretty understandable."
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miirohs · 1 day
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écoute chérie [c.l.c]
pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Assistant!Reader wc: 3.2k cw: assult, possesive behavior (standard for a mob au at this point), bro straight up kills someone, dubcon (again icarus?), shitty french an: i absolutely cannot write but anyways if this flops i'm deleting it and then crying!!! also do you guys ever just write y/n and put her in predicaments and then go womp womp as if you didn't just do that to her? yeah.
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It was fairly obvious from the subtle twitch in his jaw, to the shadow cast over his eyes by strands of his hair falling in front, that he wasn’t happy. From the moment you both had left the guarded gates of his mansion, his face has been set in a stony silence.
You’d seen him glance over at you multiple times during the length of the car ride, and it was becoming harder to ignore his erratic behavior.
Just as he looked away you reached for him, startling him from his distracted state as you moved to fix his suit, readjusting his crooked tie and straightening out the collar of his suit. Immediately you snapped back up to him looking at you, a curious look on his face.
“You should be more careful with your suits.” You chastised softly, snapping back to your seat as the heat rose to your face. “Tossing and turning around like that will probably make it wrinkle up.”
He nodded in agreement, giving you the smallest smile he could muster. You could still see the upset in his eyes as he looked at you, and you came to a slow realization of what might’ve been upsetting him.
“Are you mad with me for coming along with you?”
His smile faded a little, the frustration in his eyes visible. He never wanted this for you, but he knew he couldn’t stop you from coming along, so he resorted to simply reminding you why he didn’t want to bring you.
“Mon coeur, I’m not mad at you at all. I'm just hesitant because I know what my people are like.”
You sighed, readjusting the straps of your dress as you looked at him. “Yes Charles, you’ve made that exceptionally clear but i don’t think you quite had a choice. Carlos didn’t even want to talk about going with you.” 
He winced at your tone, tilting his head at you as he bent his own head down to your level. “I know I keep saying this, but you don’t know them like I do. I don't want you leaving my side, not to anywhere I cannot see you chérie. Do you understand?”
You took one of his hands in yours, nodding along to keep his anxiety in check. “Fine, I wasn’t planning on going just anywhere, I came with you because that's my job.”
“And your job is?”
“To be with you, twenty-four seven, whenever you need me.” You said teasingly as a cheeky smile graced his face once again, slightly more genuine than the last.
The car came to a stop, and you looked at each other, turning to the door of the car. 
“Ladies first.”
You rolled your eyes at him, obliging to climb out first as the door opened.
Your jaw dropped as you looked up to the entrance of the building. You didn’t think you were quite aware this level of grandeur could be possible, and you were honestly expecting something more inconspicuous.
Linking up his arm in yours, Charles bent down a little as you started walking, whispering into your ear.
“You look surprised. I bet you weren’t expecting this, huh?”
“Surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s gorgeous.”
“Wait till you see the inside.”
You continued with him, eyes growing wider at the inside.
Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, intricate detailing all over the grand foyer as you surveyed the walls.
Charles walked with you through corridors, once again tensing up, evident in the tightness of his grip on your arm. You could see an ornate set of doors at the end of the hall, approaching them slower and slower.
You paused at the door, looking up to him as he inhaled deeply.
“Are you-”
“Ready? Of course I am.” He didn’t look at you, but you gave no further thought to his words as the doors opened, the crowds of people gathered visible from the mezzanine you both stood on. The ballroom almost glittered, light bouncing off almost every corner of the room.
“Char, if i had known this was going to be fancy, i would’ve dressed up better.” You said, aghast as he shook his head, looking at you with a hint of affection in his smile.
“You’re dazzling no matter what, mon coeur. There’s no need to worry, you’ll be just fine.”
“I- Alright.” You agreed hesitantly, arm slipping from his as you followed him down the stairs.
There were so many bodies on the floor you had a hard time following him, resorting to holding onto his sleeves to navigate through the crowds. He greeted people, and you did the same in his stead, unsure where exactly you were headed. Suddenly, Charles came to a stop in front of you, and you slammed into him, stumbling back slightly. 
“Charles, what just happened, I...” You paused as he stood motionless, stepping to peer from behind him.
Another man stood there, head tilted as you curiously as you moved to Charles side. He wore all black, jacket embroidered with flowers and a necklace that resembled a thorn necklace. He seemed fancy, but something about the way he looked at you made it feel like you were being microanalyzed by him.
“Lewis.”
“Charles. A pleasure seeing you again.”
He nodded, relaxing slightly as the man took his hand, shaking it firmly.
“And who might this be?”
You waved, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I’m-”
“She’s my assistant.”
“Char, calm down.” You chided, ignoring how his tone almost instantly seemed to become sharp, nose flaring slightly. Clearly Lewis noticed as well, raising his eyebrow at how his tone seemed to change so suddenly.
“I’m sorry, my name is Y/n. I’m his assistant, as he mentioned before.” He took your hand, offering you a kiss to the knuckles with a smile.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/n. Are you new or…?”
“This is her first social event with me.” Charles butt in, arms crossed over as Lewis grinned at him. “Hm, I figured half as much. I haven’t seen much of her around, you should bring her more often. She seems pleasant.”
“Wonderful. Now is there anything else you want?” Charles answered, tone short and clipped as you frowned at his sudden defensiveness. Lewis hummed knowingly, sparing you a glance before he went back to talking to Charles.
“The negotiations are upstairs. We were just waiting for you to start, and I think Carlos got here maybe twenty minutes before you?”
He nodded curtly in response, taking your hand as he started moving.
Lewis looked down at him though as he shook his head, pointing to your hands.
“Sorry to break it to you mate, but she can’t come with us.”
“Why not?” Charles snapped, clearly annoyed by his sudden announcement.
“It’d be better for the both of you. I doubt you want her in on the grizzly details, it would only put her at risk, more so than working for you. Leave one of your guards with her if you want to, although I promise she’ll be just fine here.” He knew he couldn’t argue with that, it was apparent in the way his face fell at the realization.
“I have to go now, but we'll be waiting for you upstairs.” Lewis said as he waved goodbye to you, turning on his heel to leave the both of you alone to the side.
Charles sighed, glowering at the man's back as he turned to you.
“Écoute chérie (listen darling), it seems like Lewis has a point.” He started, reluctance written all over his expression. “So I'm leaving you here with one of the guards. I don't want you to put yourself in any unnecessary danger, so please keep them with you and talk instantly if anything happens.”
You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t disappointed, but it did make sense to you. "I understand, Char, I'll be here when you come back."
He visibly relaxed, though there was still a hint of concern in his eyes. "Thank you, chérie. I promise I won't be long."
You gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
With a short squeeze of your hand, Charles reluctantly left your side, disappearing into the crowd once more. 
Left alone with the guard that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, you took a deep breath, turning around to him.
"Looks like it's just you and me for now," you said, trying to break the ice with the bodyguard, who simply blinked at you.
“Not one to talk much, huh?” He cleared his throat, bashfully turning his eyes away from you.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but i'm pretty sure Mr. Leclerc wouldn’t like me looking at you.” You stifled a sigh, simply flashing a smile at him.
“Would you like to have a drink with me then…?”
“Ollie.” He finished, even more bashful than before as scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “And I'm sorry ma’am. I don’t think I'm allowed to drink on the job, Mr. Leclerc would kill me if something happened to you.”
Awkward silence filled the air as you sighed, looking around the ballroom.
You didn’t think there was anyone you could talk to other than him, so you were stuck with him for the rest of the night.
It wasn’t half bad either, but he followed you quite closely, almost as if carefully noting every single thing you were doing. Even as you made minor convos, he stood beside you, too close for it to be comfortable for either of you. He took his job seriously, a little too seriously, you thought.
At some point, you paused, turning around to him with your hands crossed over your chest.
"Ollie, do you have orders to stand so close? It's making me feel a bit claustrophobic."
He blinked, obviously taken aback by your directness. "I'm sorry miss. I was just told to keep an eye on you, Mr. Leclerc's orders."
You nodded, slight frustration rising up as he mentioned Charles' name. "I appreciate your dedication, but I promise I won't just wander off.”
He hesitated, yet still nodded to your request. "Is there anything I can do then?"
A lightbulb seemed to go off in your head as he asked, a grin stretching across your face as you looked at him.
"I think I'll go get a drink. Would you mind keeping an eye on things here until I come back?"
he relented with a nod, albeit with a hint of concern in his eyes.
"Alright, but please don't wander too far. I'll be right here waiting for you to get back."
You nodded sweetly, yet as soon as you left his field of vision, you grabbed a glass off a tray, pushing gently through the crowds.
You weren’t a lightweight by any means, but there was rarely ever a time where you drank because of your job.
Before you knew it, you’d finished off the glass, abandoning it on the buffet table and grabbing another one as you made your way back into the crowd.
At some point you saw Ollie again, distracted as he talked to two other boys of his same age. You decided not to interrupt, walking past them and slipping through the open doors on the opposite end of the hall.
The air was cool, fragrant from all the flowers planted around the place. As you wandered along the winding paths, you observed the little statues and carefully trimmed hedges, detailing meticulously crafted to fit the vibes of the garden.
But your peace was short-lived, as the unmistakable sound of footsteps grew louder. Turning around, you were met with the leering faces of a group of men, their laughter echoing through the night air as they drunkenly stumbled through the hedges. They were creating a ruckus loud enough to attract a crowd.
You froze, not a sound escaping your lips as you looked at them.
Clearly they hadn’t noticed you, so you took a step back, hoping to get away.
Something snapped under your heel and they all stopped acting buck wild, turning to you with wide eyes.
“Ouh, Qui est cette femme, juste là (ooh, who's that woman right there)?”
Shock ran through your veins as the one who spoke pointed to you, eyes turning towards you in a moment. A couple laughed, one of them whistled, all of them looking you up and down like a piece of meat.
“I think she might be one of those escort people they hire at parties y’know… you think we should greet her?”
Their leering gazes made your skin crawl. 
Quickly you turned on your heel, heading in the opposite direction, hoping to lose them quickly as you attempted to get back. Your heart pounded in your chest as you continued, their drunken roasts getting farther from you. You still felt paranoid, but you were pretty sure you had lost them.
As you turned around, a hand shot out from the darkness, grabbing hold of your wrist harshly. You were whirled around to face your assailant, one of the men from the group you’d seen earlier, one of the ones who had whistled at you.
"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" he sneered, drunken breath hot against your face as he sneered at you, a wicked grin on his face. 
He had you cornered against one of the hedges, and you had nowhere to run as he got closer, trying to grab your other hand.
“You’re cute, you think the boss would like it if we sent him back a little present like you-”
You panicked, kicking wildly until you landed a kick to his nuts, breaking free from his grip around your wrists as he staggered back in pain.
“You bitch-!”
The sound of a warning shot silenced his swears of pain, the only thing you could hear now being the buzzing in your ear.
You turned your head, Charles saying something, but you couldn’t exactly hear it as he approached, an angry yet relieved loon on his face.
“Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?!”
You didn’t respond and he knew why, turning to look across from you at the man who glared at the both of you in anger.
"We'll discuss this later," he said, tone softer this time as he turned his attention back to you, helping you up onto a cold stone bench.
“You. Get lost. Don’t let me see you here ever again.”
"Or what?" The man spat, voice dripping with contempt at Charles' order. "You think you can scare me off with your empty threats?"
“I don’t think it’ll be so empty if i-,” He pulled out his gun from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at the mans groin, then moving to his head, “-happen to give you a demonstration of what exactly happens when you fuck with something of mine.”
The color drained from the man's face. Maybe he had just come to realize who he was fucking with.
“She was yours? I’m sorry, I didn't know!” 
“Save it.” He hissed, cocking the gun and aiming it directly at his head. “I’ll make sure that you les fils de putes never see the light of day again.”
It was over in the blink of an eye, with just the sound of a gun being fired, followed by the thumping of a body.
You hadn’t even realized it when he came to you, wrapping his jacket around you as he picked you up, allowing to you bury your face in his neck.
"I've got you," he whispered. "You'll be fine now."
As he turned to exit, Lewis had finally shown up, standing at the entrance with an eyebrow raised at the dead body then you.
“Do i get to ask-”
“No.” Charles answered stonily. voice clearly agitated as he responded to Lewis. “Make sure those creeps get taken care of. I already had the pleasure of taking care of one of them.”
“Duly noted. It was nice seeing you, and you must be busy with… her, so I’ll be off to take care of the others then.” He said, as he signaled to his bodyguards to comb through the area. 
“Thank you.” He said begrudgingly as he lifted you up once again.
You could feel him retracing his steps, motion blurred until you stopped at the entrance once more, in front of his car.
Gently, he set you down and you still clung to him, shaking slightly as you climbed into the seat. 
He followed after you, directing the man in french as he put an arm around you, pulling you somewhat closer.
“Wh.. what happened to Ollie?”
The look of concern turned to a look of slight annoyance, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.
“Even now you’re thinking of someone else, mon coeur. What am i going to do with you?”
You stumbled over your words, yet you were resolute in what you wanted to say.
“Please don’t punish him, i was the one who left him.”
“Don’t worry, no one is getting punished. But you, however-”
You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the barrelage of words to hit you, yet nothing did. Instead, one of his hands came up to hold your face, thumb gently stroking your jaw.
“Mon petit coeur, m'écoutes-tu parfois (sweetheart, do you ever listen to me)?”
You opened your eyes, looking at him.
“Do you have any idea how scared I was? That I thought another man took you from me? I warned you what would happen, and yet you still came. See what happened?” His grip on your jaw tightened slightly, tilting your head upwards so you were looking him in the eyes.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"You have nothing to apologize for, mon coeur. In fact, it should be me who apologizes." he murmured, his voice soothing compared to his actions.
“But then why…?”
“Je t'aime (I love you). It’s because I love you, I want you. More than anything.”
Charles's lips met yours in a kiss, overpowering the adrenaline in your veins as he titled his head, pushing deeper into the kiss. You could feel his overwhelming warmth as he pulled you closer, body to body in the back of the car.
As you broke it off, the heat rose to your face at the string of saliva connecting you both. You tried to pull away but he only seemed to get closer, eye to eye with you.
"Charles?" you breathed, longing erupting like your heart, beating against the cage of your ribs.
“Listen to me chérie, I should’ve never let you go like that. You’re going to be mine now, that way I can keep you safe, Is that clear?” He murmured against your lips, voice dark yet pleading. You couldn’t help but look into his eyes, lovesick and blinded by adoration.
With a soft sigh, you leaned into him, forehead against his as you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of his embrace.
There was no escaping him. You were his as he was yours. You could never escape, now that he had you like this.
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celaenaeiln · 2 days
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Hiii, how are you? I’m new in the Batman fandom, but i saw a lot of people saying that Jason is actually Batman’s favorite child, and when i was reading the comics, i really though that Dick is Bruce absolute favorite, but i saw a lot of posts here on tumblr of the fandom saying is actually Jason and that the batkids all know its Jason, but i don’t know what is canon and what is fanon (quite honestly when it comes about the batfam i don’t like a lot about the fanon version 😭), so i wanted to ask you about it
And sorry if i said something wrong, english is not my first language
Hi and no worries at all!!
Yeah, canonically Dick is Bruce's favorite by a LONG shot and canonically the batkids all know this.
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Infinite Crisis Issue #3
It's says right here in the comics. Really explicitly. But not only that, time and time again, there is clear evidence of Bruce's preferential treatment of Dick over the rest of the batkids.
One time the batboys and Bruce are searching for a guy that kinda is using the Gotham criminals as his subjects. So what they decide to do is split up to narrow him down.
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1057
But they run into issues because the villains chose a 'divide and conquer strategy"
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1057
Bruce gets swept away! Because of a carefully planned trap. But do you what he does the second he wakes up?
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Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1058
JDAKFA;BFJALEC
BRUCE LITERALLY WENT: "I love Dick and all the other not-Dicks equally" !!!!!
As if that's not enough, Bruce's biggest fear is that he's not good enough for Dick.
Bruce's fear about Dick-
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Batman vs Robin Issue #3
because he believes this -
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vs
Bruce's fear about Jason -
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Batman vs Robin Issue #3
because he believed he failed to do this -
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Batman: Hush
Reminder: Joe Chill is Martha and Thomas Wayne's killer. Enough said.
If you want to be even more explicit about Bruce's preference for Dick over Jason it can't be clearer than here:
Bruce reflects on Jason's Robin tenure -
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Batman (1940) Issue #428
Something a lot of people don't know/refuse to acknowledge is that Jason canonically did have anger issues. There aren't a lot of parallels between Jason and Dick but one particular thing that DC points out is that Jason and Dick both lost their beloved fathers. The difference is that Dick was able to move on and become cheerful even if he didn't get revenge. Jason wasn't able to get over the loss of his father and became angry. UTRH makes a specific point of talking about this too.
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Batman (1940) Issue #645 "He knew that Jason Todd was NOT Dick Grayson."
Do you remember why Jason became Robin?
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
Bruce wanted Dick. He took in Jason in replacement for Dick. But Jason was not Dick and even on the day he died, all Bruce could think of was that taking in Jason was a mistake.
The batkids are well aware of this. Damian actually calls Jason Bruce's mistake too when he's recounting the story of the robins.
Here's what he says -
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Batman (1940) Issue #713
That's Damian's retelling. Tim's is even worse -
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A Lonely Place of Dying
Ouch.
Truthfully Jason is like Bruce's 4th favorite. In order of how much Bruce loves his kids it goes:
Dick
Damian
Cass
Jason
Tim
Steph
I think there's so much confusion about Jason supposedly being the favorite because Bruce grieved over Jason's that but I think a lot of people are conflating grief and self-blame with love. There have been two significant deaths in the family: Jason and Damian. If you look at how Bruce reacted in each aftermath, it becomes clear that he loves Damian more than he loved Jason.
After Jason's death:
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Batman (1940) Issue #429
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Batman (1940) Issue #431
After Damian's death:
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Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #21
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Batman and Robin (2011) Issue #20
He would forcefully make Jason relive the worst day of his life so that his other son could enjoy his.
Bruce's behavior after Jason's death was self-destructive and isolative but his behavior after Damian's death was to beat bloodly every single criminal. His reasoning for beating Dick after Jason's death was "Jason was your replacement. If you hadn't left I wouldn't have had to take him in and he wouldn't have died." His reason for beating Jason after Damian's death was "Your trauma matters so little to mean that all I want is Damian to live again and I couldn't care less about how you feel."
In summary, Jason wasn't Bruce's favorite either as Robin or as an adult. But even if it's not Dick, claiming that Jason is the favorite is so far off that no one is DC would remotely believe it. You would think there would be more analysis on Damian's death in comparison to Jason's because they were two big official deaths but I guess not for some reason. I ran out of image space but yeah there's more than just this overall. This isn't to say that Bruce doesn't love Jason. NO! He very much loves him. But he just doesn't love him the most.
On a different note - coming from someone who went from TT show to YJ to fanfic AND THEN reading comics, I've had relearn a lot about each of the characters. But for people still in the process of transitioning from fanfic to comics or just in the fanfic stage, general rule of thumb when it comes to batfamily content - NEVER trust what people say if they don't provide the evidence for it. People in this fandom are so wild that they'll have you believing the earth is the center of the universe, that you'll fall off the world if you go too far left or right, and that pigs can fly.
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tiktaalic · 1 day
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PREFACE TO MY POST: I’m not arguing with someone who says fanfiction as a medium is better than published books. It’s a better use of both our time not to argue gives you more time to read omegaverse me more time to do Anything Else.
POST: it’s so funny when someone trots out I got tired of reading books by old white men. I Find Better And More Representation In Fanfiction than Published Books! Because representation is so clearly standing in for the phrase “white gay/bi man”.
POINT ONE. it’s straight up not hard to find books by people with different perspectives. I could go to Libby dot com right now and find 3 different reading lists put together by the library to encourage you, the patron, to diversify your reading. Even when I don’t use those lists and I’m just going by clicking on covers I like I end up reading a variety of authors bc. They’re writing good books that are ending up on most popular lists that float their way to the top of recommendations. There are plenty of tools in place that guide you to books Not Written by old white men, Not About old white men. Libraries make it very very very easy to expand your palette. They want you to expand your palette soooo bad they want you to do it purposefully and if not purposefully, they’ll at least make it easy for you to do accidentally.
POINT TWO. if you are talking about fanfiction and you Aren’t using representation as shorthand for “white man but he’s gay” then the amount of fanfiction with “representation” is shit fucking all. On every axis. Nothing about women nothing about people of color. Women of color RIGHT out. I think I honestly would respect the stance of “oh I read fanfic instead of books because they’re easier, similar, and mostly about homosexuality” than I would the faux posturing of Its Praxis for me to read the diverse representation of ao3 top 100 (97 m/m) (3 f/f) (every character is white).
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cute-sucker · 20 hours
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you loved the bunnies. 
as they huddled together, their little bodies on top of each other. their cage was bombarded with bunnies who scampered on one other, sniffing and squeaking sometimes. 
you loved it. they were so cute and fluffy, and could barely handle yourself, as you hung onto rafe's hand, begging him to take you to the bunnies. it was your friend's party, and for one of the parts, they brought tiny bunnies who you could play with. 
after all, rafe had brought them up. 
"y'know there's a party tomorrow," rafe murmured, tucking his credit card in his pocket, you flittered next to him rolling your eyes, your pretty manicured hand travelling up his chest. 
"don't wanna go," you whispered, sitting on your shared bed. at this rafe gave you a firm look, before laying down next to you. to be honest, although you were fully a kook, you hated going to those stuffy parties.
it was only another chance for people to make fun of you, or bother you about marrying rafe. your big ring was there to remind people that there was one of many reasons they should be nice to you. at least that's how rafe put it when he found you crying after being bullied at the party. 
so that was how you felt, yet you watched rafe pursed his lips, "i think it would be nice to have my wife at my side." 
you laughed at this, liking the way he referred to you as his wife, "c'mon that's not fair. you can't call me that. i'm your fiancé," you murmured, getting on your tip toes to kiss rafe on the nose. your nightgown was basically see through, as you swayed closer to him. 
he groaned, before pulling you in, "c'mon kid, you know you can't tease me like that," and pulled you in for a real kiss. 
you loved giving rafe kisses, and you especially liked it when he was nice to you. there was a way that his eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, and his hands got real soft and close to your chest. it felt like summertime when he kissed you. sweet times, like a mango ice cream dripping down your lips. 
suckled honey, or even better wishes that came true. 
finally, he let go of you, and you felt dazed still gasping as you nuzzled into his chest. 
"there's bunnies at the party," he murmured into your skin. 
so there you were cooing at the bunnies as rafe was broodingly staring at you. it was a small cycle, and quickly enough you called him over. he looked close to rolling his eyes. 
"this is what you've abandoned me for?" rafe mused, pointing at the little bunnies cuddling each other. you nodded a bright smile of your face, your hands cupping your face. in all honestly, you wanted him closer, to feel his warmth but this was an excuse to get him close and not for him to expect it. 
"i really want to hold one," you whispered in his ear, and at this he looked at you with an amused expression. the little bunnies seemed to jump in joy, fuzzy and full of happiness. but this was rafe, he wouldn't give you anything you wanted if you didn't let him know. he liked it when you were explicitly clear. 
you sighed, "do you want me to spell it out? can you get one for me?" you huffed before pointing at one of them. rafe raised an eyebrow, his hand skimming over your chin. 
"you sound bratty to me," he quipped, keen eyes watching your expression change as you seemed to soften at his remark. "what do we say?" 
"please," you whined out softly. 
he scoffed before cupping your face, as you felt yourself flush, "fine sweets. i'll get you your little bunny." as calm as ever, rafe scooted down to pick up a bunny. he was so gentle, his rough arms skimming over their fur, before cooing to it. you felt jealous almost, he was more gentle with the bunny than he was with you. 
 yet, you were entrapped by his softness, as you watched his face relax. "y' gotta be nice, alright," he whispered, before letting drag your hand on the bunny's fur. the bunny rested in his arms, sleepy eyes peering up at him. 
as rafe cradled the bunny in his arms, you couldn't help but admire the gentle way he handled the little creature. his hands, which were often rough from work and training, now moved with such delicacy, as if he was afraid of disturbing the bunny's peace. it was a side of him that you cherished, the tenderness that he reserved for moments like these.
"you're a natural with them," you whispered out, watching as the bunny nestled closer to rafe's chest, seemingly content in his embrace.
he glanced up at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. you wanted to grab him and kiss him, "you're too sweet bun." 
you flushed, before reaching out to run your fingers over the bunny's soft fur, feeling the warmth radiating from its tiny body. it was such a simple pleasure, yet it filled you with a sense of warmth and happiness.
"thank you for getting it for me," you said, looking up at rafe with a grateful smile, your wide eyes full of softness.
his expression softened even further, his gaze lingering on you with a warmth that made your heart flutter. "anything for you, sweetheart," he replied, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.
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onri42 · 2 days
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how I manifested my dream life after years of overconsumption
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hello! after being in this community for many years, hopelessly and endlessly trying to manifest the life of my dreams since i was a young teen, i can finally say i did it. i'm living the life i always wanted. this is my success story ٩( 'ω' )و (very long and detailed! + mentions of heavy topics)
how i did it: the journey
i initally found out about manifesting from a friend who told me about subliminals, then i became invested in law of attraction and soon, law of assumption.
for years I was in a nonstop cycle of overconsuming information, deciding to put my foot down and say "this is it", only go back spiraling in my negative thoughts & old story hours or even minutes later. this cycle lasted for years. i felt like the law could not be this easy, and heavily relied on my 3d for evidence/signs of my desire. i felt like there was always something else to do in the 3d (subliminals, scripting, vision board, etc) and was not satisfied in just believing in the unseen.
eventually, i became sick of it. i wanted my dream life so badly, i would cry myself to sleep some nights because of how badly i wanted to be free from my old story. i hated my old life, and was desperate for my new one.
i constantly reread the same edward art posts, tumblr posts, and success stories about the law and craved for something new, but at this point i already knew all i needed to know about the law. i had some success with the law of assumption in the past (manifesting my acceptance into uni, talking to a cute boy etc.) but getting my entire dream life felt like it was impossible. i knew i can get anything and everything i wanted, but honestly i was scared and felt like there was a barrier between me and my desire. yet, i held onto these feelings for years. at some point i even felt childish and the need to "grow up and be realistic" about what i wanted since everything around me was changing and i wasn't getting any younger. but i still held onto my dreams and desires, it was planted into my heart for a reason and I really wanted it to come true.
one day i was clearing out my phone and came across blushydior's success story of how she manifested her dream life in hard circumstances. i read her post again and really internalized what she said about the law.
in short, life is a blank canvas. the minute you decide what you want, it is done. there is nothing stopping you from getting anything you ever wanted because it is already finished. just keep persisting and accepting that it is done because it simply is; nothing else left to do.
so i decided to go all in. i didn't do much: just affirm that i had my desire when i thought about it and embody the state. during the first few days, i felt a wave of happiness and excitement whenever I affirmed for my desires. i knew i had them, and it made me happy. i didn't ignore my 3d, i simply lived through it. i did whatever i had to do in my 3d while still thinking "oh i already have my desire! nothing can stop me, it's all done!"
over time, the feelings of excitement faded and it became more of a feeling of security and calmness. i would still think thoughts like "oh yeah i have my desire, oh well whatever" and simply move on.
i will say though, in the middle i did kind of cave and want to fall into my old ways. i had the feelings of calmness but felt like there was something else left to do. i logged onto tumblr and scrolled over some of the posts i had saved, but didn't read them and rely on them for info. i had to force myself to snap out of feeling like I didn't have it and remind myself that i had it. when i felt overwhelmed with my 3d or faced something that i didnt like, i would remind myself of my desires being complete.
at night i'd also imagine romantic scenarios about me and my sp to fall asleep but i didn't do anything like try to get into sats or void (i tried them before and found them quite boring lol)
eventually after sticking to the assumption that i have my desires, regardless of what i see in the 3d, nothing can stop me from getting my desire because it's already done, i got them all. woke up with everything i want. this is what it means to persist: to take the leap of faith, go all in, and just keep on believing that you already have it!
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the old and new story:
old story: I grew up in a very restrictive lifestyle with little freedom and privacy in my house, as well as super traditional and religious parents that made me feel uncomfortable in many areas of my life. my life was primarily just me taking care of my annoying younger siblings and studying to get good grades so I could make my parents happy. I did not have much success with maintaining friendships, no luck in the love department, and disliked who I was as a person for much of my life. I was completely dependent on my parents and wanted their approval for everything; it felt like I was living and doing all of these activities to make them proud, even though they never told me they were. anything that I wanted to pursue I shut down before even trying because I knew they would not approve. I was also constantly being pushed into these religious spaces that made me super uncomfortable due to their beliefs and have been verbally and physically abused in the name of so-called religion. I was living a life that I did not want, by finding the law it gave me an opportunity to live my own life for once.
new story: appearance transformation from head to toe, apartment and houses of my dreams in my desired cities & countries, talents, skills, and knowledge about topics I was curious about, language fluency, ideal wardrobe with all my dream clothes, items on my wishlist, having financial freedom, being free, independent, and in charge of my life, having the boyfriend of my dreams (guys he is so fine like omg), completely revamping and rewriting my past, having a tight knit friend group and the biggest one of all, the thing i wanted for so long -- being a famous musical artist in one of the biggest girl groups in the world <3
i am so so so glad i never gave up, it really is easy.
the law in summary:-
decide what you want to manifest
have faith and know that you already have your desire, it is done and nothing can stop you from getting it (remember! methods are optional)
just persist, do not give up. it will manifest into the 3d! nothing else left to do.
good luck everyone, you can do it and i believe in you <3
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ajortga · 3 days
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just too late
pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader
summary: where tara can't help but regret the outcome of her consequences, she was just too late. how can a heart love if it is no longer beating?
warnings: massive angst, death, stabbing, blood
word count: 3.5k+
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a/n: based of a request i got on wp! honestly, i wrote this months ago and got to the end, but their request was so similar that i redid it. posting a small second part soon<3 also omg, thank you for 500 followers!
-
You had just visited Tara, a bouquet of roses in one hand as you knocked on the door. You had seen them when walking to her apartment and you knew that they were just perfect for her. You had to get them. As you heard the lock of the door click, Tara opened the door. She peeked out and saw you, smiling shyly. You thought she'd smile back, but instead her smile dropped. 
That had never happened before. 
"Y/N, we need to talk.
You knew something was wrong, something bad was going to happen. Your breath got stuck in your throat as she stepped aside to let you in. You knew the next thing that would happen would not be good.
 fast forward 20 minutes
You stood there in Tara's apartment, Sam eyeing you with a penetrating death glare. You felt like sinking into the floor right there and then. You hated this kind of silence. 
Sam broke the quietness, her gaze stern, "Y/N, this isn't going to work out between you and Tara." She states, crossing her legs as she sighs, "All of it just adds up."
You shake your head, but before you can retaliate, Sam speaks again.
"You know it too. You started dating my sister two weeks prior before the first ghostface attack. The police found your necklace right next to the victim, covered in blood. I can't trust you and have you near my sister. All of us," she states, twirling her finger in a circle, "Are in danger and I can't let my baby sister get hurt again. None of us trust you, not Mindy, not Chad, and definitely not me. You are going to stay away from her, no more coming over or seeing each other at school. Do I make myself clear?"
"You believe a piece of evidence that barely proves anything? They didn't even find my DNA anywhere!"
"Gloves."
You felt rage crawling its way out, you couldn't believe your girlfriend's sister would think you're the killer. Sam knows all too well how much Tara loves you. "You know I wouldn't hurt you! Least of all Tara! I love her with my whole heart and I would never even think of that! I-I don't know how my necklace got there, someone framed me!" You turned to Tara, blinking away tears that stung your eyes, "Tar.. You believe me right? Please tell her. I didn't do anything! Please don't leave me."
"Please.." you begged. You saw the way her gaze slightly cracked, you knew she didn't believe you. You could feel it, you wouldn't care for fucks sake if Mindy, Chad, or Sam didn't believe you. But Tara was different. It felt like a swing to the heart, it hurt so much. It felt heavy.
Tara didn't do anything but give you a hurt look, staring down at her fingers. You expect her to throw her arms around you, tell you that they all got it wrong and you can both live happily ever after in the end. Yet she doesn't.
"I'm sorry Y/N," she forces her shattered voice in her normal tone, swallowing a cry clawing to come out, "I don't trust you anymore, I don't love you. I-I never did. I just.. Don't think you should visit anymore. We're done."
You felt like your whole heart shattered at that moment as you heard her last two words. You looked at her as you sobbed in your hands. Hurt, mournful, betrayed.
All that Tara said was, "You need to get out please," her eyes pink and glossy.
"You don't understand Tara, please I'm begging you-"
"Y/N, I'm not going to say it twi- It's n-not me Tara!" you say, this point a small cry escaping you. The way Tara looks at you is wild.
Your girlfriend's voice raised, with a fury, she wasn't going to say it again, "Get the hell out! Do you need me to say i-it twice? I don't fucking love you! I don't want to see your face again!"
You flinched, you never felt more heartbroken in your life. Your heart hurt, it felt like someone had smashed it with a hammer. Tears that threatened to fall down were now dropping on the floor. All the moments you've spent together were now thrown away, stomped on. You felt your body shaking as you toss the flowers, leaving them to fall on the floor with a thud. 
You simply nod, slowly.
"Fine." You say, more flat than ever, turning to leave as you feel the petals get stepped on by your shoe. 
All you wanted was to brighten your girlfriend's day, entering with flowers in your hand and just wanting to cuddle her all day long. Yet, here you are, your girlfriend now turning into you ex, flowers dead, no cuddles, no more trust.
Tara felt horrible, the guilt eating her alive. All of her words were lies, she just knew that if you were to separate from her, she would keep you safe. You wouldn't be the target for ghostface if he thought you were just a normal person in Woodsboro. You would be safe. She tried to assure herself that as you slammed the door. 
Her eyes met the squished flower that escaped from the bouquet on the floor and she wondered if she'd ever get flowers from you again after everything.
-
You stared at the picture frame placed on the counter of you and Tara together hugging with matching clothes, you choked on your sobs. Tara nor your friend group had chatted with you since then. Sam had blocked you on social media. At least your other friends had came along and checked up on you to make sure you were okay. Tara had sent a few messages, saying she was sorry that things had ended up like this, but to realize you blocked her.
You couldn't function properly, your eyes were dry with the amount of tears you released in the past week.
It's not your fault, you tried to assure yourself. You weren't ghostface. You can't believe the person you trusted most didn't even put her trust in you.
Maybe it all is your fault. Maybe if you were different, in personality, how much the core 4 really liked you, you wouldn't be here, crying like those teens in the movies that just feast on a gallon of ice cream. It makes you cry a little harder while you hug your teddy bear.
Especially the taunting memory of Tara screaming at you, tears blurring your vision as you stumbled back out of her apartment. Sam's eyes softening just a little bit, not meaning for this to happen. Yet you didn't even try looking into her eyes, too caught up with your own feelings to feel her sorrow.
The past few days, you've locked yourself up, abandoned school. Ignored the core 4, blocked Tara and the other three.
Your mind wandered, you were clouded in your own thoughts as you sobbed angry and hurtful tears. You cried to the point where tears stopped falling, and you were left with feeling nothing and your body feeling sore. Your breathing was still heavy, you let out heavy shaky breaths, but they started to cool down.
You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing, until you heard your phone buzz from the ground. You picked it up, there was a message.
A part of you expected your friends to check up on you, since that's what they've been doing every since you've stopped going to school. Instead, you were met with a picture from unknown of the abandoned movie theater not too far from here. There, you saw the camera facing a knife pointing towards Tara and Sam, threatening, daring. 
Your eyes widened, as you immediately take your keys and bust out the door, grabbing a small knife, maybe you'll need it, unblocking Tara and calling her and all of those you knew must be in there. They're in danger.
Each call leads to voicemail, from both Tara and Sam, you search up their location. The only one shared for you is Tara's. You almost smash it to the front of your phone holder, locating where they are at.
As much as you hurt, you knew that you would never heal knowing that someone you loved was at risk. The car engine roars to life as you head for the theater.
With each texts and call ignored, you get paranoid, worried sick. Stepping on the accelerator of the car, your car turns a corner and is out of sight.
"She fell for it, she's coming your way," a taunting voice rasps into their phone, Ghostface.
"Our plan is just setting into action."
-
Carefully, you slip into the door of the run down theater. You hear clatters, and immediately you freeze, hiding a corner and peeking out. Tara's scream echoes through the theater, your eyes widen and you look around, for something sharp. 
This is a stupid shrine committed to ghostface, you realize. It makes it a little better, at least you're guaranteed a knife to defend and fight with?
You sweep a corner, the room your in is silent, and you creek down the floor board, being greeted with glass display cases.
You're not good with blood, yet there's evidence from ghostface's mark years ago. TV's, a knife laced in the red crimson color. A gag almost leaves your lips, yet you open the display case and your hands grasp around  a cool metal. It's a knife alright, not too sharp if you were to drop it you wouldn't cut your whole toe off. Yet it's do-able. 
"Tara?" your voice echoes, walking around and exploring, you're frantic. You keep hearing her voice mail ring through your ears and your worry increases.
You thought the room you were in was obsessive with ghostface, yet when you go into the middle of this shrine, it's filled with obsessive things. Masks, robes, knives, even the TV that Stu Macher was killed by. A shiver escapes you.
You look up, and you see the chaos going, glass shattered on the floor, action buzzing around. You see Tara.
"Tara!" You shout, trying to keep your voice low, your eyes meeting the ladder that goes up, you climb on it, grunting in effort. You climb, climb, climb, climb, until you reach the top.
Tara is with Sam, they're talking about their plan, they're a couple hundred feet away from you. The sister's clothes are smothered in blood, Sam's arm has a wound, and you feel sick seeing the blood seeping from your girlfriend's clothes. 
Your about to say her name, until you see a shadow emerge. It's not any that you know, this one is dark, tall, more man-like. 
It's not until you see the tilt of their head the sliver of light reflecting off their mask. Ghost face. 
You don't know what gotten into you from the adrenaline from the moment, but your legs begin to run, move, nothing sounds more fitting than slow motion. His knife lifts from his chest, the sharp metal edge glistening.
You try to scream, the words bubble up in your throat, comes out in a dry cough.
Your legs feel like jelly, run faster, damnit. 
They can't see him, he's behind them, tucked just 2 feet away in a corner, yet you see him. You can save Tara and her older sister, you can save the both of them, you have time. 
You can save the both of them, your love outplays your brain. It's telling you to stop, you're going to get killed. But your heart overwhelms it, beating quicker, with each beat all you can hear is 
Tara
Tara
Tara
Save
Her!
Tara
You
Have
Time.
The knife ghostface is holding gets brought down.
"Tara!" You finally scream, it comes out as a desperate cry as you lunge towards her. Her eyes turn from the setting below her to you, confusion, then shock as your hands shove her shoulders. The strength you built up finally goes to use, pushing her out of harms way, she shoves into Sam, as they both stumble back. 
You hear them both say your name, confusion at first, before the second time they holler it out. It's a scream, yet it dies down in your ears, feeling the cool metal of the blade slam into your shoulder. The ring from Tara's screams fade, replaced with the blood pulsing in your ears. The pain, the sharp knife sinking into the flesh of your shoulder. All you can do is let out a soft cry, too tired to scream. 
Your eyes water, looking up at ghostface, the ugly mask boring into your eyes. He tilts his head, shocked for a moment. Until he tilts his head back again, like the target he hit is even better than what he wanted. They didn't expect you so soon.
The knife tears out from your flesh, a sob leaves your throat, kicking and flaring your arms. 
"Y/N!" Tara screams your name, this one you can hear. She's crying, sobbing, wailing. Begging for her older sister to let her go and save you. 
Sam shushes her, all they can do is watch. All Tara can do is watch you suffer.
His knife slams into you again, your abdomen. You hear a disgusting squelch as it goes in. The pain is unbearable, this stab hurts even more than anything you can think about. You thought the 4 foot thorn going through your foot was bad. You cry, grabbing the knife that's tucked into your pocket and slam it against the black coat, right where the neck meets the shoulder.
A raspy whisper escapes your lips, "F-fuck you." You snarl.
You barely hear him grunt. Yet he doesn't back down, in fact, you hear the disgusting squelch again.
And again.
And again.
The pain lessens. You know why. You're dying.
You can't hear it anymore, but there are now several stabs on your abdomen. You collapse, blood seeping through your clothes, your hands, your face. It's warm, dark red, spreading. It oozes out of your wounds, and the squelching sounds are gone. Your eyes flutter, seeing the flurry of the white masked figure leaving you to rot. Your body collapses to the floor with a loud crash.
You saved Tara, you would die before he could ever kill her. Before she could ever die. If Tara died, you'd kill yourself, or you'd die quicker from a broken heart. 
Sam's yelling, kicking ghostface as he lets go of you, you can barely see her bringing him down to the bottom floor, both of them collapsing off the second story.
Your eyes begin to close, your breath comes in short heaves and wheezes.
And then, you see her, barely, through your weak vision.
It's blurry at first, but you know it's Tara, who else would look so good with blood all over her face?
She presses her body down to you, her warmth barely seeping through, your body is colder. Those warm, soft eyes are wide, looking so scared, hands pressing down deeper to your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Fuck, no. Nononono.. Why the hell would you do that?" She yells at you, shaking your body, you whimper.
You barely respond, croak her name out, cough out blood.
She's crying, you realize, she's choking on sobs as she cradles you, lifting your body up to her chest. She smells like your favorite scent, sweet.. light.. vanilla.. So lovely.
You just want to be in her arms forever. Let her sweetness soothe the pain.
"Y/N," she sobs, seeing the way you're struggling to stay conscious, you're only holding on because she's there. She can tell the way your eyes are slowly glassing over, your vision is twitching, blurring, un-focusing. 
Don't cry, you want to tell her, even though you know you're here, dying in your girlfriend's arms. But you're too weak to speak, instead, let a slurred murmur leave you. Her hand is clinging to yours, like if she were to let go you would immediately fall away.
"It's okay baby," Tara sniffs, clinging to you. Like if she lets go you'll shatter, "I'm here, help will come soon. Stay with me. Eyes on me baby."
You look at her, your girlfriend, being in her arms. It's your favorite thing, she has a small wound, around her arm to her shoulder, yet it's barely bleeding. Being here, in her arms. It's your favorite thing ever, you've done it so many times to feel her warmth. You never thought you would not be in Tara's arms at night with you buried against her.
Yet you know it's your last time you'll be in them. You can barely feel the warmth she's trying to transfer to you, you're freezing. She senses it too, the way she's hugging you tighter. Pleading you to stay here, with her. The brunette squeezes your hand, distracts you from the pain that's already leaving. Along with your pulse. 
"I'm so fucking sorry," she sobs, "I love you so much, you don't fucking understand," she wails. Pulls you closer to her, "I should have never left you, you mean the world to me, I never meant what I said. I t-thought I could protect you if ghostface knew that you were no longer in our circle."
You wheeze, your eyes never looking away from hers. She notices, how you're studying her, like the moment you don't, you'll forget how she looks like in heaven. 
Freckles, doe-shaped crying eyes. You lift her hand to your chest, let her feel your heart, to let her know that your giving her your heart, your love. You don't want her to forget about you. 
You don't want to die.
Yet if you don't want her to die, you'll die before she could ever. 
Tara's still sobbing, ripping her shirt and tying it against your stomach, the blood seeps through, she tightens it. Looks worriedly down at you. 
Ugly shapes of swiggles and dots cloud, you see random shapes flying. Try to focus on Tara.
Sirens ring in the distance, Tara looks back, yet immediately looks back at you. A tear falls from her stained mascara cheeks, down your shirt. Weakly, you bring it up and wipe her cheeks. Assure her it'll be okay. Yet she knows it's not. They're just too fucking late.
You saved her. That's all that matters now.
"It's all my fault, I'm so sorry my love. I never meant to hurt you. I never thought it would end so soon. I don't want you to die."
You swallow, blood slightly gurgles through your throat, use your dying strength to speak, "I'm h-here." You croak, "T-tara."
"I love you so much," you slur, hiccupping on a cry. Trace the matching necklace she gifted the two of you years past on her neck. You're wearing it too.  Hers was silver, yours was gold. A silver and golden dove.
The blood loss is too much, you can barely speak. But she's here with you, in your last moments. You're able to have a goodbye you might not have had. She might not be ready, but you almost are.
Time wasn't in your favor. It really wasn't. 
This isn't goodbye this is a simply see you later.
She's okay, knowing that makes you feel a little more okay. A little more okay and soothe the worries.
Tara plays with your necklace. A proper goodbye. Her eyes glisten with tears, and she leans down, presses her lips to yours. You kiss her, knowing it'll be the one you'll live to feel. Then you slump back down on the concrete. You don't care about anyone but her anymore. Sirens holler, people bust into the theater, and you look up at her, taking off her necklace and putting it into the palm of her hand.
"I w-want you to promise me one thing."
She sniffles, tears wont stop anytime soon, keeps tying cloth around your deep wounds. It's no use. She nods, "Y-yeah?"
"Promise me y-you won't forget me. E-even when you find someone you love, maybe even more than me. You won't t-throw.." You pause, coughing, "T-throw our memories away.  Promise me that. That when your h-hands hold theirs, you realize that mine was once warmer. When you're by yourself on F-Friday nights, you'll remember that you used to come to mine and cuddle m-me." You hiccup, losing your train of thought, blinking, your words are barely audible, yet Tara can still make them out.
"...When you look at the stars on the grassy meadow, you'll remember that that's the spot we always w-went to to get our thoughts out of things," you barely giggle, it hurts your stomach. "A-and, when you look at all my pictures, or maybe one day I won't pass your mind for once, you'll be ready to let me go. The thought of me still being here. Y-you'll be able to love, even though I might still scar your heart."
She sniffles, seeing the way you begin to struggle on your words, they grow quieter.
"But I won't let that happen, I don't want your h-heart t-to scar," You place her hand on your chest again, "You can have mine."
Tara swallows her tears, still, they drop.
"I love you, Y/N," she sniffles, it's the same word from every other time you both said you loved each other. Yet this time, it's so fucking different. It's the last time you'll ever hear her say it to you while you're still hear. "I'll never love anyone more than I loved you."
"I love you too, Tara," you whisper. It's the last time she'll ever hear it from you. A small, weak smile cracks on your face as she leans down one more time, kisses you softly, taking the last breath from your lips.
And it's time to go. Your chest stills.
And for the last time, she hears your heart beat one more time.
A heart that once beat for her was gone.
283 notes · View notes
thedaughterofkings · 3 days
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once again a jury winner ... sighs
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xspeter · 2 days
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𖦹 part of the “dancing with our hands tied” collection. main masterlist
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇... Luke discovers the three times he denied his feelings for you, and the one time he accepted them.
W.C: 5K
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Incident One: The Nurses Station
Luke knows that you’re annoyed with him, it was written all over your face. You wouldn’t say it aloud, of course not, you were too sweet, but you had no concept of a poker face.
He thought it was cute, the way your eyebrows knitted and your shoulders tensed. The way you avoided looking at him because you knew he could see right through you.
You suck in your bottom lip as you waltz over to him with a pack of bandages and alcohol. You sit on the stool in front of him, knocking his knees open with your own so you can roll yourself between them, the wheels screeching a little as you do.
You stare at him with an intensity Luke has only ever seen from you once, and it’s when he was in an all too familiar situation with Lance Tenning.
The situations were all too eerily similar- both involving something being said about you. It didn’t matter if it was to your face or behind your back, Luke just couldn’t tolerate it. He couldn’t listen to your name get thrown around in the mud because you rejected the Ares child, not when you were so sweet and kind.
So, of course when Luke heard Lance whisper to his dimwit friends about how, “That bitch just can’t stop slutting herself out for Castellan,” he had to intervene.
And it’s not Luke’s fault that Lance got all defensive, and it’s not Luke’s fault that Lance pushed him, and it definitely wasn’t Luke’s fault when Lance ended up on the ground with a fresh black eye.
Luke can’t help but grin as the sight of Lance writhing beneath him replays in his mind, and you glare up at him with that knowing look in your eye. “I don’t know what you have to be smiling about right now.” You spit.
Luke furrows his brows, allowing you to inspect his bloody knuckles, before he grins and uses his free hand to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here with you, why wouldn’t I be smiling?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “Right, of course.”
“It’s true!”
You don’t say anything, just beginning to clean his knuckles. The sting is so familiar to Luke that he barely even reacts, just placing his other hand behind him and leaning back.
It’s weird, because Luke knows you’re mad at him. But you still handle him with so much care, so much gentleness- as if he’s fragile and the slightest movement could shatter him to pieces. It’s sweet, and just another example of how much you care.
He doesn’t know what he did to deserve a friend like you.
Luke can see you itching to ask him something, from the way you keep glancing up at him and the constant gnawing on your lip. And Luke knows you won’t ask- not be your own volition, anyway. You didn’t like confrontation, in fact, you made it a point to stay as far away from it as possible, so unless Luke said something, you never would.
“What’re you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?”
Luke notices the way your breath hitches at the word pretty, but he doesn’t think anything of it. You’d always been particularly sensitive to compliments, not just the ones from him. You let out a brisk sigh, finally able to let out the question you’d been holding in.
“Why did you do it, Luke? Again? After I already told you to just leave it alone?” Your voice waivers slightly, and he can see the obvious distress in your eyes. It made him almost… regretful. He never wanted to be the reason you felt anything other than happy, but he knew you wouldn’t understand it. You were so quick to let people walk all over you- let them treat you like shit and then say it was all fine and dandy.
Luke couldn't do that, though. He’d honestly rather die than watch you break yourself for people who didn’t give two-shits about you.
His lips thin, and he watches as you avert your gaze from his face and back to his hand, beginning to wrap a brown bandage around it.
“You didn’t hear what he said about you, Sweetheart. I couldn’t just listen to those awful things and pretend it wasn’t happening!” He sucks in a breath, waiting for your response.
You tense slightly, eyes darting between his face and his hand. “I never asked you to do that. I can handle myself-”
Luke snorts, interrupting you abruptly, “Can you? Because the last time this happened, you were going to let him get away with it. And that time he’d said it straight to your face!”
You finish tying his bandage swiftly, immediately dropping his hand and practically sprinting as far away from him as you can get.
You run the bridge of your nose, “Because I don’t want to start any problems! Lance isn’t just going to stop because you hit him a couple times, so there’s no point to it!” You scoff out a laugh, running a hand through your hair. “I mean, why do you care so much anyway?”
Luke goes silent at that. You were his best friend, of course he cared, but…
Why does this feel different? He wouldn’t beat someone for any of his other friends. Hell, he’s not sure he would do that for anyone. So why did he do it for you?
The answer is on the tip of his tongue, itching to be said and confessed, but he just can’t figure out what it is, and it’s driving him mad.
“‘Cause you’re my best friend!” He says it with a wince, like the words are foreign and wrong. And you flinch back at the phrase too. It makes him nauseous.
He watches as you swallow, hard. Eyelashes fluttering as you blink back the glossiness forming in your eyes. “I know that.” You mumble, “I’m just so sick of watching you hurt yourself and other people for me. I’m not worth getting kicked out of camp.”
Luke’s heart breaks a little bit when you say that, because he couldn’t believe you would even think that. To him, you were worth everything. Getting kicked out of camp, getting exiled by the gods, fuck- you were worth the world. All you had to do was say the word and Luke would be on his knees in front of you, praising the altar that you so graciously allowed him to admire.
He risked taking a step towards you, and he let out a small, relieved sigh when you didn't take a step away. “Do you seriously think that?”
Your eyes trailed his body, all the way from his lower stomach to his eyes, and Luke couldn’t help but shiver as they did. He closed the distance between you until you were nearly chest to chest, your breathing slowed and eyes wide. You were so goddamn beautiful, it was almost painful.
“Do you really think… I wouldn’t betray the fucking Gods if you asked me to? That I wouldn’t do anything for you?” His voice was low and husky, fingers grazing your arm and trailing up to your cheekbone. “I would rather I got kicked out of camp before I let some piece of shit like Lance Tenning speak a single word about you.”
You were nearly speechless, unable to move as the space between you got smaller and smaller. “Luke..” You whispered. And Luke felt it, that familiar twist in his gut, the one he couldn’t name.
And just as he was about to understand it- to accept it- some little kid ran into the room, crying about a cut they got on their hand. You didn’t even spare Luke a second glance as you rushed over to them and whispered sweet nothings in their ear, crouching down and kissing their hand better.
But, even as he excused himself and began the walk back to his own cabin, the strange feeling never really did leave him.
Incident Two: The Lake
Percy Jackson is the most oblivious person Luke has ever met.
It was seriously obvious to anyone with eyes that Annabeth was in love with him, especially after their quest last year. Her lingering touches, smiles a bit too wide, eyes glued to him anytime they were within ten feet of each other. It was completely obvious.
Even now, as Annabeth and Percy chase each other in the lake, hair sticking to their skin and water dribbling from their eyelashes, Annabeth's crush is noticeable in the way she looks at him.
Luke thinks it’s cute, honestly. He wants his little sister to find someone that loves her just as much as she loves them, and Percy Jackson was definitely that guy. He just needed to stop being an idiot and realize it.
“Hey, Luke?”
Luke’s ears perk up at the sound of you behind him, and he looks away from the two teens and towards you.
You and your light pink one-piece swimsuit. You and the little bow in your hair, watching intently as you tug it loose and let your hair cascade down your shoulders. You and your perfect lips and nose and-
“Can you help me tie this, please?”
You turn your back to him, and Luke swallows hard once he realizes your swimsuit is open back, which allows him to see the curve of your spine and the pretty freckles and moles that dot your skin like stars.
He watches as you struggle to tie the bathing suit strings around your neck, fingers moving around with zero coordination.
So, despite the obvious burning in his cheeks and the unexplainable feelings that brew in his stomach, he says: “Um, yeah. ‘Course I can.”
His breathing slowed as you whispered a quiet thanks, allowing Luke to softly brush your hair over your shoulder and take the strings from your fingers.
He tied it effectively, probably taking much longer than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. Not when you were so close and he could smell your perfume- strawberries and vanilla. It was honestly the most intoxicating thing he’d ever smelled.
He tightened the bow around your neck, touch lingering on your back as his hands ghosted over your skin. He sucked in a breath, watching as his fingers trailed to your shoulders, as if they weren’t his own. And maybe they weren’t.
Slowly, he placed a small kiss on your shoulder, relishing in the way your breathing hitched and your spine shuddered.
And then there was that feeling again, the one he doesn’t quite understand. The one he just can’t place his finger on.
You turn around as Luke’s plush lips leave your shoulder, eyes a bit wide and lips parted, like there’s a question you’re dying to ask but you don’t allow yourself to.
You giggle nervously, glancing at Luke’s pink cheeks and tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, the way you always do when you’re nervous. “I, uh, thanks. For tying it! Not for… anything else. Obviously.” You ramble.
Luke just nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was no problem. I mean, what else are friends for?”
He pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyebrows furrow and your shoulders deflate a bit at the word friends. Because, that's what you were, right? That’s all you were. Luke couldn’t understand why you’d ever be disappointed because of it.
You blink a couple times, doing your best to hide the way your voice shakes. “Yeah. Friends.”
Luke grins, happy that you’re both on the same page, and gently taps your arm. “Good. Look, I have to go make sure nobody drowns, but I'll see you later, alright?”
You nod, waving him off with a small mhm. But, even as Luke walks away and the smile returns to your face as you greet one of your sisters, the disappointment that lingers in your eyes doesn’t leave his head.
Why would you be dissapointed? And… why did he feel the same?
Incident three: The Bondfire
Luke wasn’t one to get jealous. He had no reason to be, he was perfectly content with where he was in his friendships and he didn’t have any girl he was involved with.
So why did the sight of you giggling with an Aphrodite boy make his blood boil?
The boy, Carter Rhodes, was notorious around camp for dating around. Almost every girl had a story with him, and Luke had thought you knew that, so why were you talking to him?
He watches as Carter leans into you, his lips inches away from your ear. You throw your head back and laugh. Actually laugh. Not the fake giggle you usually give people, no. It’s the laugh you give Luke when he visits you in the nurses station. Or when you spend the night with him. Or even when you’re just with him!
It's his laugh. So why were you letting Carter fucking Rhodes hear it?
“Uh, Luke, are you okay?”
Luke’s head whips to Percy, who’s giving him a disturbed look. It’s then that he notices he was gripping his plastic cup so hard, it had crushed in on the sides.
Luke swallows, blinking a few times to try and clear his mind, but the image of you and Carter doesn’t leave. “Uh,” He sniffles, eyes darting between you and Percy, “I’m all good.”
Percy nods, a sarcastic uh-huh falling from his lips. His blue eyes trail to you, and a smirk creeps onto his face.
Sure, Percy was oblivious when it came to his own love life, but yours and Luke’s? He was basically an expert.
Percy takes a seat on the log next to Luke, watching as the brunette boy struggles to keep his eyes on the ground and not on you. It’s amusing, honestly, the fact that Luke thinks he’s anything but obvious with his feelings for you.
“I get it, man. It’s hard watching the girl you like flirt with other dudes.”
At first, Percy’s comment doesn’t register in his brain and he agrees that, yes, it is hard watching the girl you like flirt with other dudes. And then he think real hard.. the girl you like..
“What? I don’t like her! I mean, I do like her as a friend but, I don’t like like her.”
Percy watches with amusement as Lukes cheeks turn a shade of pink and he trips over his words, practically shaking as he tries to shut down the accusation. The blonde sighs, shaking his head with a tut. “Oh, Luke. Sweet, innocent, Luke.” He claps a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it obnoxiously. “You are absolutely whipped.”
Luke scoffs and shrugs Percy off of him, shooting him a glare. “Right, like you’re any better. I see the heart eyes you and Annie give each other. But, me and Y/N aren’t like that! We’re just- just friends.”
The word feels like poison on his tongue, practically burning as he forces it out. It was true, you’re his friend! So why did he hate saying it?
He thinks back to that odd feeling he gets in his stomach when he’s with you, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to Percy’s words.
But he immediately shoots the idea down. Even if Luke did see you as anything other than a friend, you’d never feel the same. You’d seen Luke at the lowest point in his life, right after his quest. You’d seen him angry, you’d seen him cry. How could you ever love someone so… unloveable?
Percy goes a deep shade of red, eyes widening as he immediately deflects. “Annabeth and I are not like you and Y/N! I don’t even- even like her. Gods, gross..” He pretends to gag, but Luke sees the way the blondes eyes immediately trail to where Annabeth sits talking to her siblings.
Luke lets out a chuckle, standing and ignoring the pop in his knees. He claps Percy on the back, “Keep telling yourself that, Lover Boy.” And swiftly finds his way over to you.
It’s ridiculous, yes. Luke knows that, but he wasn’t doing this out of jealousy. No, it’s because he’s worried- just like he usually is. He can’t help it! You’re just so naive and trusting, someone’s gotta be there to make sure you don’t get hurt!
Carter spots him first, and Luke pretends the immediate frown that falls onto his face as he does doesn’t make him proud. Like Carter knows that as soon as you see him, whatever bullshit he was trying to do with you would immediately be discarded.
Luke walks up right behind you, placing both hands on your shoulders and rubbing them just the way you like it. “Hey, Sweetheart.”
Your neck cranes as you look up at him, a wide, toothy smile on your lips. “Luke! Where’ve you been?”
He shrugs, sitting on the log next to you and continuing his massage on your shoulders. His thumbs move to rub circles into your back, on the places he knows you get tense the most, and you let out a low moan of approval, eyes falling shut. “‘missed you.” You breathe.
Luke chuckles, watching as Carter pretends to not be as angry as he really is. “Sorry, baby. Had to give lessons to some of the younger kids today.”
He doesn’t miss the way goosebumps rise into your skin despite the warm fire, or the way your spine goes completely rigid at the nickname. A proud smirk spreads onto his face as he finished his work with a chaste kiss to you shoulder, making sure to let it linger for longer than he normally would.
When he comes up, he pretends to finally notice Carter, putting on his best shocked face. “Oh! Carter, my bad, I didn’t see you. How’ve you been?”
Carter gives him a mean mug, jaw rippling as he nods. “Sure you didn’t, Castellan.”
You look at Luke with confusion, and then back to Carter, obviously being able to sense the thick tension between them. “Carter, what’s wrong?”
Carter blinks a few times, before his face relaxes and the sultry smooth smirk returns. “Nothin’ babe,” He places a gentle hand onto your thigh, thumb tracing small circles into it. “Just can’t believe how pretty you look.”
Luke doesn’t miss the wink Carter throws his way, or the way your cheeks flush as you giggle nervously. It was nearly unbelievable the audacity Carter had! To touch you right in front of him- to make you blush and giggle like a schoolgirl in love?
Luke sighs, leaning close and whispering in your ear. “Let’s go back to my cabin, yeah?” Immediately turn to him, and Luke knows he’s won. Honestly, did Carter ever even have a chance? It was almost cruel to let him think he had.
You swallow, eyes trailing Luke as he stands and offers a hand to you, a casual grin on his face. You say a quick goodbye to Carter without even sparing him a glance, and take Luke’s hand.
You let him lead you away, but Luke looks over his shoulder and smirks at Carter’s look of disbelief. He sends him a wink just as he did earlier, and then turns back to you.
You're looking at the ground in front of you, lips parted as you glance towards him. Your hands stay connected the whole way back to his cabin, but no words are exchanged between you.
He's not surprised to find the cabin empty, instead he relishes in it. The Hermes Cabin had so many residents, moments of solitude in it were hard to come by. So when they did, he always made sure to enjoy them as much as he could.
He drops your hand as soon as the door closes behind the two of you, plopping onto his bed with a sigh. He watches as you wrap your arms around yourself, maintaining a large distance between the two of you which he finds strange.
Normally, you always join him on his bed, allowing him to play with your fingers or hair and having deep conversations that he always enjoys. But, no, tonight you’re looking at him like there’s a question you want to ask, like it’s practically burning in your throat and you need to spit it out, but you don’t. You let it burn, gnawing on your lower lip.
His eyebrows furrow and he stands, walking towards you. You don’t move back, but you don’t look at him either. Not until his hands are on your upper arms, holding you in place gently. He tilts his head slightly, “What’s the matter?”
You suck in a breath, finally looking up at him through your lashes, and then your gaze finds the floor again, as if it hurts to look at him for more than a second. You stumble a bit as you talk, “Is there a reason you were being so weird back there? I mean, you’re never… never really that touchy when we’re with other people.”
Luke thinks back, remembering how he’d rubbed your back and shoulders, called you baby, kissed your skin… and he realizes that you’re right. The most he ever does in public is give you a quick kiss anywhere but your lips before he leaves you, and that’s that.
He doesn’t call you pet names, doesn’t touch you. So why did he do it now? His mouth goes dry, but he makes sure to keep his cool and calm exterior, dropping his hands from your skin, and shrugging nonchalantly. “Uh, no, not really. I just missed you.”
You snort, and squeeze your arms tighter around yourself. Finally, you look up at him, and Luke can’t help the way he basks in it. Your look, no matter if it’s angry or happy or sad, leaves butterflies in his stomach that he can’t explain.
“So, that’s all? You just missed me?”
He nods, “That's pretty much it.”
He doesn’t miss the hurt that flashes in your eyes. You never were good at hiding your emotions, no matter how hard you tried. It’s something he lov- liked about you. Something he liked.
Your arms fall to your sides, nostrils flaring a bit as you scoff. “Really? It’s not because you were- were jealous that I was finally talking to someone who might like me?”
Luke couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. Did you really think Carter wanted to be with you for anything outside of another two week fling? “Please,” He sighs, “You had to know Carter was just flirting with you to have sex with you!”
You stare at him with wide eyes, jaw hanging open as tears well in your lash line. He doesn’t understand it- why were you being like this right now? Couldn’t you see he was just looking out for you like he normally did?
“What if I wanted that too, huh? What if I wanted to stop waiting around like an idiot for someone who will never see me as anything more than a friend!”
There’s that word again, but this time it’s like a punch to the gut. It’s like bitter poison falling from your mouth, like the wrath of the Gods had finally caught up to him. It hurts more than he’d like to admit.
He risks taking a step closer to you, but you take one back, maintaining distance between you. “What are you talking about, Y/N?”
The question hangs in the air like smoke, filling up his lungs and leaving him unable to breathe. Because deep down- he thinks he knows. Deep down, the answer shines like a light in the middle of the darkness, begging to be seen. But he doesn’t want to see it yet- can’t let himself see it yet. He doesn’t deserve to.
Your head turns to the side, arms crossing over your chest once more. “Nothing. I have to go.” You murmur, beginning to walk away from him, but in a desperate attempt to get you to stay he snags your wrist.
You tug at him, something you rarely ever do, and it leaves him nearly speechless. Still, he persists, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
You freeze, but Luke doesn’t miss the way your voice waivers as you whisper, “If you can’t tell, then I won't be the one to tell you.”
With that you break from his hold, slamming the door shut behind you and leaving him completely alone. Now, that solitude he’d reveled in feels like snow creeping into his skin, encasing him in an endless chill.
Incident Four: The Apollo Cabin
Luke knows that you know it’s him knocking on your window. None of your siblings, with the exception of maybe one, have people sneaking in at late hours of the night.
He also knows that you’re not asleep. There’s no way- not after what was said between the two of you barely two hours ago. That's why he continues his knocks, coming up with new combinations, partially out of boredom and partially to annoy you enough to force you to open it.
And it works, he watches with a shit-eating grin as the window rolls open and you glare at him. “What?” You growl, glancing behind you to make sure none of your siblings woke up. “What do you want?”
He bites the inside of his cheek, gesturing for you to move back as he makes the familiar crawl through your window. He lands softly, so familiar with the environment that he knows where to step so he makes the least noise. “Couldn’t go to sleep knowing you were mad at me.” He mumbles.
You deadpan at him, a hand on your hip as you shake your head. “I’m not mad. Will you go back to your own cabin now?”
He shakes his head, eyes lingering on your messy hair and bare face. You never wore a lot of makeup, there was no point when the sun would melt it right off, but seeing you like this- unfiltered and completely real, he’s not sure you’ve ever looked more beautiful.
“You’re mad, Y/N. I know you are.” He sighs, and you swallow, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking to the side. “No, I'm not.”
He likes your stubbornness. Likes the way your lips pucker out slightly and your skin prickles with goosebumps when a breeze slips through the open window. He likes everything about the way you look at him, even when you’re angry.
“Yes, you are. And you have every reason to be. I was.. being selfish. I shouldn’t have dragged you away from Carter because I was mad you were talking to someone outside of me. It wasn’t fair.”
He doesn’t miss the way your eyes shine a little, biting on your lower lip in thought. “Luke-” You start, but he doesn’t let you finish. “You’re allowed to do what you want. And.. if you want to have sex with Carter then, you know, you can do that.”
You chuckle, shaking your head with a sniff, “I don’t want to have sex with Carter.”
He can’t help the relief that floods his veins as you say this, letting out a small groan of approval. “Oh, thank the Gods. You are way too good for that douchebag.”
You grin, stepping closer to him. Luke inhales as your familiar scent fills his nostrils, and it smells like home. Like something he was always meant to know.
“Yeah, wherever. Will you stay here with me tonight?” You ask, though Luke knows you already know his answer. Still, he amuses you, nodding dumbly and allowing you to lead him into your bed.
You settle under the covers, which smell like you, and he feels your limbs tangle together and your head find his chest, like a lock and key molding together in the form it was always made to be.
Your body is warm, warmer than his anyway, and your skin is so soft. Years of handling medicine has done you justice, a huge contrast to the roughness of his own, years of training has left him battered and scarred.
Still, you trace lines into the skin of his stomach, ear flat against his chest giving you full access to the beat of his heart.
“Luke?” You murmur, and he hums, running a hand through your hair, gently brushing out the knots. “Yeah, Sweetheart?”
You’re silent for a moment, before finally you softly say, “It’ll be us forever, right? No matter what happens?”
Luke is almost shocked how fast the word yes fills his thoughts. He hasn’t ever thought about what would come after camp, after you both left and your lives changed and you grew up.
Would you be there for that? Would you want to be there for that? He hopes your answer is yes.
“Forever.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head and pulling you tighter against him, “I promise.”
You sigh happily, closing your eyes and drifting to sleep. It’s then that Luke realizes what that feeling in his stomach is. The one he can never name, the one that begs to roll off of his tongue like hot acid.
Because , while Luke knew he himself was unloveable, with his trauma and scars, did that mean he was unable to love? Did he even deserve to feel that?
He's not sure, but right now, with you laying on his chest like it’s just the two of you in the whole world, he thinks he accidently let it happen.
He fell in love with you without ever even knowing it, and he’s not sure he ever wants to stop.
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taglist: @apolloscastellan @ddarling-ddearest-ddead
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thatbookgirl1118 · 3 days
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I cannot for the life of me find the original post (tumblr is a hellsite) but this was sent in an atla gc:
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@the-badger-mole
and tbh i always kinda felt like kataang was weird exactly because of that one-sidedness??? like there's one episode of katara maybe sort-of seeing aang as a love interest (when the fortune teller tells her she'll marry a powerful bender), but then the rest of the show is her being passive in the relationship or actively pushing aang away (like their second kiss). and then at the end she just randomly decided "okay i like you i guess."
whereas aang got a bunch of pining moments and you actually believed he was in love with katara.
and most of their relationship was about how she helped aang - he did contribute to her character development over the course of the series especially as a bender of course but it didn't feel as emotionally/spiritually deep as katara's literal one episode sidequest with zuko.
but then someone else wrote "I would argue the opposite? Kataang is where Katara choose the peaceful nomad which subverts the trope presented where zutara is where she chooses the strong protector/combatant. Aang as a character is a subversion of the typical hero while zutara is like,,, coloniser romance idk"
and honestly... i kinda get that. aang was problematic in a lot of ways, but he was definitely a subversive protagonist, and i can see the power of allowing the woman to choose the pacifist vegetarian over the extremely obviously hot jock badboy. this is an incredible oversimplification of their characters of course, but the point stands.
Basically, Kataang is the ship we all logically want - the sweet, friendship-based, seemingly subversive one. But Zutara is the one that actually makes sense in the story, with these characters, not their tropes. Aang is subversive, but he and Katara are also kind of terrible for each other - he isn't mature or selfless enough for Katara, who needs someone to force her to take care of herself because she's always the one taking care of everyone else (wonder what that's like). That's why she and Zuko are so perfect, because he not only takes care of her, he makes HER prioritize herself. Aang... does not. He's pretty selfish, which yes is partially due to his immaturity (I personally don't count Korra as canon because it treated ALL the og characters terribly so I'm speaking purely from his 12 yo self), but it's also just a basic incompatibility thing. And Katara is actually equally bad for Aang - she enables him waaay too much, and he needs someone who doesn't. Who forces him to stand up on his own two feet and take responsibility. She's too much of a mother, and her relationship with Aang is too mother/older sister-ish.
With Zuko, on the other hand? Katara started out HATING him, forcing him to prove himself to her instead of handing him everything she had like she tended to do with Aang and Sokka. He had to earn her care, and as a result he appreciates it way more and demands way less of it. He's a far less selfish character generally for the same reasons, and is much more mature/has a better understanding of life and gray areas. Southern Raiders is a great example of this - he's down for whatever Katara decides because he understands that there's no one right answer, unlike Aang who simply preaches forgiveness. I'm not necessarily attacking Aang about that either - I do believe that grudges eat away at a person, and taking a life does haunt you, so forgiveness isn't necessarily bad advice. But it's not what Katara needed. Aang is great as a friend, but I don't think he's what Katara needs from a romantic partner. Zuko just... is.
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mandy-asimp · 3 days
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Redecorating Your Heart
Melissa Schemmenti x reader
Fluff mostly
Summary: you begin to make changes to Melissa's home, but one year you have a different change in mind
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The first time it wasn't as obvious. It was a slight change. You and Melissa had been dating two years prior before she really asked you to just move in. After all, you were never at your apartment.
The first thing you had to change was her couch situation. You understood it and told her multiple times if you moved in, it would be coming off within your first week. She would laugh it off like you were joking, she really believed you were.
But when you moved in, you had a plan. You slowly unfolded parts, knowing that by Friday she'd be so swamped she wouldn't even notice it. And you were right. By Friday she didn't. It took Barbra coming over Monday to realize it.
"Melissa Ann, have you finally come to your senses about your couch?" The older woman beamed as she sat down, her hands running over the soft fabric. "I must say I'm impressed!"
And that's when Melissa looked at you. You were in the kitchen pouring the two wine glasses and grabbing yourself a drink with whiskey.
You had this smile on your face. One she couldn't be mad at, so she sighed in defeat against you. "It was y/n's idea. She has been trying to get it off for awhile now.
That's when you came over glasses in hand and a big, wide smile on. "I won't try and alter anything else...." you trailed off. Both woman gave you a disbelieving look and you could only shrug and hand over their drinks.
You made yourself comfortable next to Melissa as the two talked about anything they needed to. And you would listen, you would give your opinion if asked, or you would sit there and just really listen. Letting your girlfriend's voice carry you off into sleep.
That night though, you stayed up and traced patterns on her thighs as they talked. Following your own finger, you didn't pay much attention to the world around you.
So lost in thought about what she might say to you once Barb leaves. Would she be really mad, or would she let this one go? What if she makes you put it back on yourself? What if she enjoys it off?
There were too many questions that you thought of, and both woman could see it.
"Is she listening?" Barb asked Melissa. Trying not to change her tone to bring you back. Melissa glance to you, and easily shook her head. "You really gonna let her keep the wrapping off?"
Melissa sighed, "honestly? Yeah...if it makes her happy I'm willing to make such a small altering to the house. It is nice fabric, so I'm not really mad. The smile she had when you pointed it out was worth it." She explained simply. It was the truth. If this made you happy, then she saw no harm.
"Melissa Schemmenti, if I didn't know any better I would say you're in love." Barb teased before finishing her glass.
The red head shook her head and finished hers as well. Your drink had been nothing but ice for awhile now. Melissa assumed that's why you were so quiet, you made your drink just a bit to strong.
But once you got up to clean up their glasses, you seemed so fine. Like there wasn't a drop of alcohol in your system. Meanwhile she walked Barbra out.
"She's a sweet one, Melissa. She's good for you and you know it." The friend gave a reassuring hug before walking out to her car.
Once Barb pulled off, Melissa found her way back to you. Wrapping her arms around your waist as you poured her another glass and made yourself another drink.
"Didn't drink too much in that first one?" She teased you quietly, squeezing you before pulling away.
You turned slowly and handed over the glass, "you out of everyone should know I know how to hold my liquor." You bite back with a playful smile. "Mm plus, you and Barb were talking about your field trip that's at the end of the year. What am I to do in a house all alone for a night?" You feigned you boredom.
~
You did know what you were doing that night. You had six months to plan it. After the couch, you had to make her believe you truly weren't going to change anything else....but her bathrooms....
They weren't horrible, but you saw a vision. From the strange orange to a modern grey and marble. And originally it was just going to be the downstairs, but then she had mentioned it just once.
"One day, when I finally have time, I'm going to fix that upstairs bathroom. It's just not in anymore." Her words that you took and ran a mile with it. That's how you got to here.
With the help of your neighbors, who you had met moving in, you had a place to store all the new cabinets.
"And you're sure you'll be ok tonight?" Melissa had her bags by the door as you handed her her purse. "I seriously can have Barb watch my class."
You shook your head and laughed. "Mel, you have been talking about this since school basically started. I will be ok. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, ok?"
"You can call me if you need anything, I know a guy for almost everything." She reminded you. Staring at you with adoration before reaching out to cup you cheek. "I...." she began and your heart skipped a beat instantly.
You knew she struggled with saying the big word. After her last, she explained how she is still healing but is ready to get out there again.
A understanding smile crept onto your lips. "I know," you whispered nodding slightly. "Go! Have fun sleeping over in a museum." You pushed her hand a way carefully. Leaning in to kiss her once on the lips, and a bunch all over.
She laughed at your antics. "Alrighty, I'll get out of your house. But seriously hun, if you need anything don't be afraid to call."
You bowed and helped her load the car. Giving her one last kiss before she pulled out. You watched her till she turned the corner, and your sweet smile turned devilish in seconds flat.
You bolted back in and wasted no time setting up your music and getting started.
To start, you wanted to get out all the old furniture and get it to the garage. Opening it so you had a nice breeze flowing through the entire house (obviously turning off the air to not rack up the bill).
By eleven, you had most of the street helping you out. The guys building outside as everyone else worked inside. Painting or moving heavier pieces.
It was very neighbor like, and you couldn't help but feel more welcomed than ever within their community.
Then by two, you had several pizza's delivered and sent someone to get drinks. Everyone sitting around in the backyard, enjoying the moment.
"So, what made you decide to do both bathrooms?" Ned, he lived three houses to the right, asked.
His wife, Stephany coming out and sitting next to you. "And why haven't we ever been in your house? It's beautiful."
You shrugged a bit. "Well technically, it's Melissa's house. I moved in with her six months ago. But she complained about the bathrooms just once and I had already planned to redo them. I hated the orange. And she probably had a guy to do this, but I had a vision that I think she'll like. And it looks so much cleaner."
They all agreed with it, especially after they saw your sketches from several angles for each bathroom.
"And you didn't ask her to do this, did you? Just like with the plastic in the couch?" Beth smirked as she put her slice. She was the first one you really met and talked to about your future plans for the house.
You shook your head and everyone laughed. "In my world, it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. She was never going to take that plastic off and I couldn't stand it either. And I know she can't stay mad at me forever," you stated. A part of you knew that was mostly true, she's never gone over a week not talking to you.
"Well, your plans are very nice and with the speed we're all moving at, once the paint dries we'll be down before nine. And when does she get home?" Hunter questioned, his leg fidgeting under the warm sun. "Seeing as it's a surprise?"
"She's home tomorrow afternoon. The school is doing an overnight field trip so it was perfectly planned out. It's also why I could give everyone a set date to take off. Which I thank you all for helping me with this project. I truly couldn't have gotten even an eight of this all done on my own." Everyone raised their glass and talked a little more.
Eventually, by nine, everything was finished. The light fixtures were switched out, water was running smoothly through all faucets, and you were pleased.
Now it was just you laying on the floor after a long day of work. You had just sent out another thank you to everyone who helped. That's when your phone began to ring. Melissa's contact popping up.
"Well look who isn't dead," she spoke so quietly. You assumed all the kids were asleep and it was just her awake in another room. Somewhere where she could keep her eyes on her little eagles. "I haven't heard from you all day..."
"I've been a very busy bee today. But you have my full, undivided attention. How was your field trip?" You hummed your interest.
And you listened to every word she said to you. Never moving from your spot or focusing on anything else. It was just time to talk to your girlfriend.
Although, it was two different girlfriends once she got home. You were upstairs in the shower, enjoying the feeling of the new shower head. It was you in your thoughts until you felt hands sneak around your waist.
You jumped, and screamed, but laughed it off once you spun to see your beauty. "Mel!" You beamed so wide. "You have got to feel this new shower head!" You made quick work to put her back under the water. Watching her face contort, then relaxing.
"And I see you've redone the bathrooms?" She moved her head to the side, letting the water massage her neck.
You couldn't help yourself when you placed kisses over her exposed skin. "Do you like it?" You asked in between. Your touch being featherlight as you ran your hands over her body.
She hummed with a knowing smile, "you keep redoing my house without asking...." she tried to sound mad.
"But aren't I good at it?" You had a lewd undertone. "Admit it Mel..."
You could almost hear her mental fight to keep her ground, but that undertone had her ready to cave. She had to say though...you knew how to remodel a room. "Fine..." she felt your smile grow on her and she swore to never forget that feeling.
~
You lived with her for a year now, been dating for three. Today you had shown up to Abbott and it was almost summer again. And the rumors were that this was supposed to be the hottest summer on record.
It already was, and you had spent it very wisely. You had done a little summer shopping and tanning before the real summer.
"Hello sunshine!" You skipped into the teachers lounge. Catching everyone by surprise, but Melissa and Barb smiled at you and the lunch you brought them. "Here is your lunch! The weather is beautiful outside!" You took the seat next to Melissa, placing a kiss to her cheek.
"Now what did you do? What new alter did you make to our house?" Melissa laughed, really joking but you didn't laugh or fake being hurt. "Oh my, seriously now what? What am I going to come home and find?"
You looked to Barb for a second, hoping she would give any sign on Melissa's mood, then back to her. "Your backyard....was very bland. Empty. There was so much space and it's the hottest summer. You've been busy all week finishing up school and I figured come summer you would love to relax. And we don't have any trips planned, and it'd be a great way to know your neighbors-,"
"The same neighbors you let in to redo the bathrooms?" She quirked an eye brow at you.
"Yes those ones! They've been dying to meet you ever since the bathrooms." You strayed from the main point. "But! Back to my new thing that I have to tell you before you see since it was a bit more major."
"Did you redo the kitchen?!" She gasped, worried for her cookings future. Feeling relieved when your head shook.
"Although that wouldn't be bad! It could use a new coloring...the whole downstairs could use a makeover..." once again you side tracked, going quiet as your vision started planning itself.
Melissa knew that look now, she'd be a fool to miss it three times now. "You leave the downstairs alone, ya' hear? Now what is this new addition?"
You beamed at the mention and leaned in close to her ear. The room assumed it was something so bad as Melissa put her head in her hands but you had a wide, toothy grin still.
"It'll be fun! We can sit by the side and get some sun. Itll give us a reason to have people over more as well, you'll have more mouths to feed. Which means you'll get to cook more." You began to list out the pros.
Melissa rolled her head to look at Barb, who just laughed at her friends reaction. "And what was the alter that has been made?" Barb looked to you, curious to know herself.
"She got a pool," Melissa huffed. "How did you even get it approved? Let alone the money?" She didn't know how to feel about this anymore.
"Well, I talked to the Stephany about who I should talk to and she said to find someone in the committee hall who would know about all that. Once that was sorted it out it was a matter of numbers. And while you were busy being an amazing teacher, I published another book. The first week of selling I managed to afford it." The smile that never left your face as you talked about your accomplishment made her feel warm.
She couldn't be mad. She knew she couldn't be. Just looking at you and she couldn't. She knew it was dangerous, but you also never did anything to make her have to be.
"Do you have any pictures? How'd you even hide that much construction?" She sighed, sitting up and folding her arms.
Barb looked taken aback by how calm the woman was. She knew how much Melissa hated people changing her space, but here you are. Making home renovations without a care in the world. And how the red head watched you with such intent as you showed it off. It was beautiful to say the least. You were what her friend needed more than anything.
"It'll be an amazing summer!" You got giddy at the thought of the next three months. "And, so you really can't be mad, I also added a little kitchen area. So you can cook outside and I can watch you while enjoying the sun. We'll be the talk of the neighbor hood."
Melissa laughed and shook her head. "I guess you weighed your pros over your cons heavily, haven't you?" You nodded proudly. "Well then I guess we have to put it to use soon. We'll have a book premier party for you. Since you live in secret from me." She teased.
"Oh Melli, you know I could never live in secret from you. I only work in secret, it's when I do my best work." She kissed her cheek before standing up. "I have to go though, I have shopping to do."
Barb and Melissa bid you goodbyes, watching you skip out into the soon-to-be summer day. "You're in love," Barb laughed with so much joy.
"I'm in love," Melissa confessed. "A pool?"
"Melissa let someone get a pool?" Ava came in, a knowing look on her face. "Gonna be a hot summer. She's gonna be in a bikini most of the time." Ave painted the picture, getting a look from Melissa. "I'm just saying. You're gonna definetly have a fun summer." She pointed with a head bob. "Does that mean you'll be havin' pool parties with your famous cooking?"
That caught everyone's attention a bit more. "If she plans one and lets me invite anyone, then I'll consider." She put out, "but that doesn't mean a yes."
Ava stood with a shinning smile, "that's all I need to hear!" She left the lounge satisfied.
Meanwhile everyone else took the chance to make small jabs at Melissa for actually being a softy. But it was worth it once she came home.
You laid in the back on a big heart floaty in a casual white two piece. You were spread out and enjoying the sun that was shining brightly.
Melissa thought you looked so peaceful. And she hated to admit it again, the backyard looked nice with the addition.
She figured, it's been a long day, joining you couldn't hurt. So she, without alarming you she was home, went to change into a swimsuit as well. Realizing this would be the first time you see her in one. It made her nerves shake a bit, but you've seen her naked...a swimsuit isn't any different, right?
She carefully got in, but before she could scare you, you spoke. "Took you long enough to change." You rolled onto your stomach and opened your eyes. Your lips softly curling up. "The next alter I make I'll let you in on it, promise." You hummed.
Melissa shook her head as she rested on the side of your floaty. "Don't. I like when you talk about them. You always have a different happiness radiating off of you. You take pride in your work. It's one of the things I love about you." She spoke so smoothly.
The words didn't click at first for you, truly you didn't think them twice till she said 'love'. "Really? You don't hate that I'm slowly taking over your house and altering it?"
Melissa chuckled, "of course not, hun. If I did I would've expressed my anger for it. But because I love you I'm willing to accept these changes. Plus you make them look nice, so I can't complain." She shrugged, but laughed when you started kissing all over her face.
"Oh! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!" You repeated with pure joy as you couldn't stop laughing and kissing her face. "You don't know how pleased I am to hear those words!"
Melissa laughed at your antics again, "if I knew you would react like this I would've realized sooner."
"Oh God, Melissa! I've been in love with you since the first date, you were just so wonderful the first night that I knew I wanted to do right. I want to be with you forever, and I will die on that hill." You confided. Knowing you could go on explaining how much you loved her.
This time, she leaned to you. Kissing you passionately as she could. "It's a good hill to die on," she cockily mumbled. To which you pushed her off your floaty. "But are there any more surprises you have for me?"
You pretended to think, "we're going to Italy the day you get off for a week and a half. As our first vacation together." You played it down, getting pushed off your floaty now. "I thought it would've been good!"
~
It had been another year. You and Melissa had just celebrated three years, and she joked you would find something in the home to change now that it's been awhile.
She was right, which she wasn't surprised about, but was shocked with how big it was. She had come home from work to cars all down the street and the front door opened.
When she walked in, she was shocked to see her cousin that lived close by in the living room. It was an unexpected sight but she came back to reality when he hugged her.
"Is it really that much of a shock I'm here?" He joked, especially with how hesitant Melissa was to hug back.
"Where's...what?" She looked all around. Vinny finding her reaction hilarious.
That's when you came and hugged her from behind, the force you had pushing you both forward. "You're home!" You cheered. "You can't leave me for a week ever again!"
"You were allowed to come with!" She laughed. "But what is all this? Why is my cousin here?"
You looked behind her at Vinny, acting confused. "Your cousin is here?! I finally get to meet another of the Schemmenti's!" You went and hugged him like you w never met. Turning back to Melissa with a smile after, "I have a surprise for you."
"Of course you do," she shook her head with a sigh. "What is it this time?"
"The upstairs and basement." You came right out with it. Her mouth opened to say something, "before you say anything. Look first. Start with upstairs and then go down."
And you stood still as she did go upstairs. When she came down she had an unreadable look but was out of her work clothes. She walked down, this time you followed.
The basement you designed specifically for her. It was dim lit with a fancy poker table with chairs surrounding it. Over was a mini bar with a wine storage all across the wall. It was a nice wood flooring. A small lounge section on the other side.
Melissa, flicked the lights on and nearly had a heart attack. Her family was all in the basement with smiles. She turned to you, tears brimming her eyes as she saw relatives she hadn't seen in ages.
"What is all this?" She whispered, so stunned that you could pull this off. You weren't even introduced to her family yet.
You shrugged, "you worked extremely hard this year with two grades. I figured that after a long year of late nights and early mornings, you could use something good. Soo, I did a little sleuthing and found Vinny, who lived in the city. He helped me, after having to really prove that I was your girlfriend, get the rest of your family in. That's why I hadn't made any alters to the house. I wanted to go big and give you a surprise."
She hugged you tightly, "you're beyond amazing hun." She cried before going to greet everyone.
You watched from afar, not wanting to intervene into her moment. You were about to slip away, until Vinny appeared behind you. "Nah, you're all apart of this family. No matter what happens, nobody's ever gone this far for her. You must really love her." He pushed you towards the group.
Your cheeks became warm, "you have no idea." Was all you got out before Melissa grabbed your hand.
She stood next to you while holding your arm, "everyone, I wish I got to do the introduction, but this is Y/n, my girlfriend of three years." She beamed proudly and shoved you into the group. Laughing as you got bombarded with hugs and kisses to your cheek.
Later, everyone was in the kitchen cooking while laughter filled the air. Meanwhile you sat back and let Nana tell her all the stories of Melissa she could think of.
"So, three years is a long time to keep someone like her a secret." Rocco mentioned, glancing up to his cousin. "I mean I get a text from Vinny saying she's redoing the upstairs and downstairs while you're gone, then poof! She's on the couch making Nana laugh. Just saying if I was you, I would've been showing her off easily."
Melissa shook her head at the comment, "yous just mad I have a keeper that you can't get to again." She poked back. A smirk on her lips as she switch to look at you and Nana. "It's been awhile since Nana has ever welcomed anyone like this..."
Vinny came over with the bowl of uncooked noodles. "It's cause she cares for your happiness. Y/n. I wouldn't know anyone who would fly everyone in."
"She paid for everyone?" Melissa furrowed her brows, now focusing on you and Nana.
"Told you she cared." Vinny's voice faded back as Melissa thought deeply. She had no clue what you were talking about, but you looked overjoy at whatever answer you were given.
She whipped her hands off and pulled off her apron. Walking over carefully to not alarm you both but to still hear.
"...I promise." You swore, turning to look at your girlfriend. You wore a goofy smile that couldn't be shaken. "Melli!" You cheered.
"Can I talk to you for a sec hun?" She offered her hand. Pleased when you took it and followed her out back, away from all ears. "You flew everyone out?"
"I needed help." You said as if there wasn't people closer to call. "I don't see what the big deal is."
Melissa squinted her eyes at you. "What are you up to?" She raised the question, which only got her a toothy grin in answer. "Whatever it is, it better not be the kitchen."
"When we're married and you can't escape me I'll do the kitchen." You playfully mentioned. Laughing at how her eyes widened a bit at the mention. You walked inside after placing a caring kiss to her cheek, rejoining her family and helping out.
Melissa stood and watched, her cheeks flushed, and her heart pounding. You wanted to marry her?
~
You had this smile you couldn't wipe as you waltzed into Abbott. You almost glowed with how excited you were to see your girlfriend of four years. And four was your luckiest of numbers, so it had to be this summer.
"Nope. Another year without an alter to the house. So this year has to be bigger than last year and I'm thinking it's the kitchen she's after next." Melissa's voice rang in the room, clearly you were already a topic.
Once you turned the corner, Melissa sighed. "Oh you know you're excited to see me!" You joked as you plopped into her lap, arms naturally around her neck. "I have wonderful news for you!"
She looked to Barb, and she just smiled and sipped her coffee. It was a reaction that was all to familiar. She knew something Melissa didn't.
"Is that your reason for showing up?" Melissa pinched your thigh playfully. Watching your smile drop into a fake frown.
You let out a little sigh, "I'd come here to see your beautiful face any day. With or without amazing news. But you'll like it. When was the last time you went to Italy anyways?" You causally let out, hoping she wouldn't notice it at first.
But Melissa hung on to every word you've said for the past four years. "Italy?" She whispered with furrowed brows. "You're taking me to Italy? Why? How? When?"
"Well! I'm glad you're already along for the ride! Since your last day happens to be today, our plane leaves at seven tonight. I figured you would want to start your summer off right." You explained. An award winning smile for best girlfriend plastered on your face.
Melissa would've argued with you, saying that you can't plan a trip so short notice and give her no time for any proper packing.
"I can see it on your face, most of your basics are already together, I've packed your makeup the way you like, the only thing is clothes. Now if we had it my way...." you smirked down at her. Watching a subtle blush wash her cheeks. "But unfortunately we can't, so we're going shopping once you're done."
She knew there was no out. You already had it all planned and she knew it. "I'm done in an hour..." she whispered.
Melissa stared at you in wonder. Not knowing what she did to deserve you and your gifts. She adored you and it wasn't said enough. But you, you knew how to express it in every way. You would hold her if she had a bad day, cook if she couldn't, kept the house clean, made sure she never had to worry once she came home. You were her everything.
You kissed her softly, but with so much passion. "I'll go grab us food now then," you got up. Lingering around her just a second longer than usual. "I'll see you later, Melli."
"Bye, hun..." she watched you leave until she couldn't. She leaned back and just thought of the trip. She was going to Italy.
Meanwhile you were making the trip to her favorite food joint. Smiling when they had the order down before you even got to the counter.
"So...it's been what four years?" Pete checked you out. He seen you enough times with the red head to remember who you were. "Either of you making an official move?"
You smiled at the thought. "Who knows. If it's in our cards, I'm sure it'll happen. I can dream big though.
."
But you knew the miracle that would work. You knew Melissa better than anyone (except for Barb). Spoiling her while shopping was only the start.
~
"How long are we even staying? Where are we staying? Oh! I can show you all my families favorite places!" She got excited as you led through the mall.
She didn't expect you to stop outside of designer stores though. Her eyes falling to you with large dose of curiosity.
"No..." she caught your smile. Watching in slow motion as your hand opened the door and let her in. "Hun this is too much, we can go to somewhere simpler."
You sighed and walked in past her. "It's my treat. For all that you've done, this is how I can express my love for you. Spoiling you is only a minor expression. So! Melissa Schemmenti, let loose."
And she did. That woman knew how to shop for a new wardrobe. You were simply there for paying and carrying. Giving her the ultimate freedom to look everywhere. Her smile as every time she hit the checkout, it grew a little wider. This was the life she was destined to live and here you were providing it.
After a few hours of running in and out, you came up to the last store. Her favorite shoe store that she can only dream to buy from. "No. This is where I have to stop you. Those shoes are like a thousand dollars. A pair."
"Well it's a good thing you don't really get much of a choice. I'm picking up an order anyways. Take advantage of this moment Melli." You opened the door for her. Sighing when she didn't move. "Melissa. Come on."
"No. I can't let you spend that much on me on shoes." She stood her ground. In her mind you would've sighed and given up trying and you'd leave.
But you shrugged and went in anyways. Letting her watch the entire transaction as they handed you another bag. She was shocked that you actually had a pick up. Becoming even more shocked as they handed you two more. They weren't small bags either, each may e having three pairs.
When you came out, you shook your hair back and started walking towards the car. "I seriously don't see why you didn't come in. I already got you the shoes but you could've gotten more." Melissa mumbled something as they walked. You didn't think twice when you spun around, standing just ever so slightly taller than her. "What?" You had a certain glint.
"I said, you're up to something." She stood her ground. Arms folding and pushing up her boobs a bit.
You stared at her with an undecipherable look now. Then you just resumed walking. Leading the way back to the car.
The silence killed Melissa. It left her with too much time to think of what you could be up to. Even when packing everything up, you stayed silent.
You could hear her wondering thoughts. How she would watch you for a few seconds before continuing.
"You really that suspicious of me, Melli?" You came up to her. "You think there something more to this don't you?"
She huffed and rubbed her face, "it's just...you spent a lot of money and planned an entire trip to Italy without once mentioning it. You usually slip up or hint once at everything you do. And I haven't heard a hint for Italy ever. So what? What is the catch?"
You grabbed her hands, "we have been dating for four years. We haven't gotten away to somewhere ever. And I like the number four so I figured our fourth anniversary should be special for that matter. Italy will be a trip you remember."
Her eyes squinted at you, searching for any dishonesty. "There's more."
You only smiled wider. "Fine! We're meeting your family there. I was gonna have them pick us up as a surprise but it's been secret for so long and now it's here." She spoke quickly.
Her green eyes widen with shock. "Seriously?" There was a nod. Followed quickly by a hug. "I don't know what to say..."
"Just enjoy your time there, that's all I can ask of you." You kissed her sweetly. "Now we finish packing and then we're off!"
~
School had begun again. It was a few weeks in when you made your first appearance. "No, she didn't ever make that alter to the house. I truly think she's looking for another house to decorate." Melissa was talking to Barbra.
You scoffed as you walked in. "Melissa Schemmenti, are you dissing my name in here?" You came in, few envelopes in hand. You took the seat next to the red head and kissed her cheek.
"It's nice to see you, Y/n. How's the house? It's been a year since the last change?" Barb joked, using the conversation from a few seconds prior.
You beamed and shook your head. "I actually have a different alter in mind recently!" And that's when you slid the white envelope over. The sage green wax seal dawning one side, as the other had The Howard's written in cursive.
Both you and Melissa watched as she carefully opened it. Her gasp catching everyone's attention now. She glanced up, eyes wide as she finally noticed the ring.
"But you said..." she was speechless.
Melissa bobbed her head, "that it would only take a miracle for me to get married again. Yes, I did. But if you saw what this one did, you would've been a fool to say no."
"How? What?" The friend was still confused at this news.
You perked up as Melissa sat back, knowing her fiancé was going to tell it better. And for the entire lunch period, everyone listened as you explained the night in such detail.
"And that's how I got the Melissa Schemmenti to say he's to marrying me." You concluded. You found Melissa's eyes. "And there is not a single thing I won't do for her."
You shared a soft kiss with her. Both parting with subtle smiles that meant more than they let on. "But, save the date. March 7th. It's a Saturday. I have to go meet with the planner though, I'll see you at home."
A quick kiss and then you were gone. Melissa left with her confused coworkers.
"So..." Janine began. Looking at the other envelopes in front of Melissa.
She sighed but couldn't lie, she knew who's invites they were and she wouldn't want anyone else. "You are all invited, don't worry." She stood up to hand them all out.
"Melissa Schemmenti, you feel deeply in love." Barbra was rereading the invite. A pleased look that her friend was finally getting someone who loved her the way she loved them.
And you were that person from the very start.
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