#I know you tagged me is something else but I want to do this

[1644s]

trust me, I’ve got nothing for you other than love

warnings/tags: minors DNI, 18+, dark themes, implied babytrapping, woc!reader, mafia!AU (background), arranged marriage!AU, pregnancy, lovesick!lando, reader is on birth control but is she really?, manipulation, gaslighting, obsession, possessive behavior, dark!lando, these tags are not exhaustive

wc: 5.3k (what happened here...)

summary: Your marriage vows are til death do you part but Lando sees no harm in ensuring your forever is, well, forever.

dividers by @/cafekitsune :)

unedited, unbeta'd, etc. this was supposed to be maybe 2k but...here we are... anyway! there's a bigger background plot going on but I cannot be bothered to expand on it aldkjfas please let me know your thoughts and happy reading!!

also! sinha = lion in bengali :)

“You just have to meet him, sinha.”

Through the grainy FaceTime call, your mother’s patient expression holds a touch of exasperation. She’s not scolding you but it’s a close call.

“No expectations?”

She shakes her head. “No expectations,” she promises and then she softens. She looks less like the wife of a criminal and more like your mom. “If you don’t like him—”

“Let me know what day he is free and I’ll clear up my schedule,” you interrupt, unable to bear listening to platitudes. It doesn’t matter if you like or dislike Lando Norris. Your father needs his family’s power and resources. This is a formality for your sake.

There are no expectations because this isn’t a choice.

You make a show of looking away from the camera as if being called and then look back at her with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, I have to go. Someone’s at the door.” Your mother tries to say something else but you interrupt her with a hurried, “Love you! Bye.”

The call cuts. Your mother’s disappointed face lingers for a moment longer and then the screen fades to black.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rub at your face. Your parents have a way of forcing your hand and making it seem as if they are doing you a favor.

Objectively, Lando is nice. There is little overlap between your circle of friends and his but there is overlap and it lies with Carlos Sainz Jr.

Carlos has had nothing but good things to say about Lando when the topic is broached.

“A little immature but it is to be expected,” he laughed, wine sloshing in his glass. “He’s annoying. Like a little younger brother.”

That glowing review is all you have to go off of until Xavier comes back from his recon mission. You don’t think following Lando around with a camera necessitates such a dramatic title but it is not your opinion they ask for.

You’ve heard of what he is capable of but it is not the red flag it should be. Perhaps it is misguided and shockingly insensitive of you, but you care more if he will be a good person to you. You don’t need his affection but you do need his respect. And with that, you’ll need him to care about you enough to want to keep you safe. A man who feels obligated to keep you safe is not one you want.

Your phone pings. The screen lights up with a message from your father.

Clear your schedule for next Saturday. Wear something nice. Details to come.

-

Your spoon is halfway out of your mouth when Lando sits across from you.

His hair is perfectly styled to look effortless. A stray curl hangs down his forehead and only adds to his boyish charm.

He grins at you, eyes bright and shoulders relaxed. A backpack is slung over his shoulder and he’s wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. They are of good quality but the lack of suit emphasizes his youth.

You’re suddenly struck by how young the two of you must look. It will be many years before Lando is expected to take over his father’s position but looking at him now, you can’t imagine such a situation. You know better, though, given his reputation.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

It’s so ridiculous it makes you laugh. “You really know how to keep a girl waiting, huh?” you say, more amused than not.

He’s fifteen minutes late but you don’t mind. Tardiness is the last thing you worry about in a partner. His body count, for example, is a more pressing matter.

The illegal one that is.

“I see you’ve gotten some food though,” he says, nodding towards the parfait you ordered. “Care to share?”

You offer him your spoon and when he reaches out, you pull your hand back. “Any allergies?”

He leans over the table and grabs your wrist. Dipping his head down, he takes a bite. “None,” he says around the granola.

You make a noncommittal noise. So far, he matches what Xavier’s detailed about him. There’s an easy going air about him which loosens the tension in your muscles. However, as much as you’d like this to be a normal introduction, you and Lando are working on borrowed time. So you’ll need to speed this along.

A litmus test might do the trick.

“Alright, let me see it.”

His smile disappears. “See what?”

“The file you have on me.”

He props his head with his hand. He’s careful as he says, “I don’t have a file on you.”

Leaning back into your chair, you cross your arms over your chest. You let the silence stretch between the two of you as you appraise him. When he continues to maintain his confused look, you sigh. It is foolish of you to think Lando will be honest. Honesty has no place for a marriage such as the one you will have with him.

“Okay,” you say simply. You tap your fingers against the table, a quick three beat tune before you give him a singular nod. “Let me know when and where to show up for our wedding. I’m impartial to a courthouse wedding but,” and you shrug, “It’s up to you.”

He straightens up. There’s a predatory stillness to him. “That’s it?”

You reach for your bag. He’s rented out the entire restaurant for the two of you so you’re sure the wait staff are being paid an exorbitant wage today. But it won’t hurt to leave a good impression in case you find yourself back here. You peruse your wallet, thankful you remembered to bring cash with you. “Yeah. Sorry to waste your time.” You’re perfunctory if not a little clipped with your response.

You think you’ll grab some lunch on the way back. The parfait, while good, only served to whet your appetite.

“Hold on.”

You can’t help but glance at your watch but you wait patiently as he gathers his thoughts.

“Why go through all this fuss?” Lando twirls his finger. “If you are leaving within—“ He looks at his watch and clicks his tongue, “Ten minutes?”

“I’ve been here for half an hour,” you remind him coolly. He winces but still offers no excuses nor an explanation for his lateness, so you steamroll ahead. “And if you’re willing to lie to me about something we both know is true,” you spread your hands out helplessly, “Then why bother with this? I’m sure my parents told you they set this up to appease me and you know what? Consider me appeased.”

He mouths appeased silently to himself. “You’re mad because you think I lied?” he clarifies, furrowing his brows.

“I’m mad because you are lying,” you correct icily.

“You really think I’d lay all my cards on the table so easily?”

“A file is all your cards?” you challenge.

His jaw locks. “No.”

You decide to cut him some slack. You dig through your purse and produce a folded stack of papers. Your parents were able to pull a sizable amount of information on Lando. It is supposed to remain confidential but this is your future marriage after all. You will be the one dealing with the Norris’, and Lando in particular, not them. You were rereading them up until you ordered and you presume Lando was doing the same given how last second this meeting is.

“I don’t want there to be an uneven playing field,” you say, waving the papers. “I want us to have a clean start.” Then you grimace. “As clean of a start as we can,” you amend.

He eyes the manilla folder. It’s fairly thick and you’re sure your color-coded tabbing only makes it more enticing. Lando kisses his teeth before reaching into his own backpack and pulling out a file. It’s much slimmer than the one you have on him.

You itch to reach over and take it but you restrain yourself. Placing your elbows over Lando’s file, you balance your head on one of your hands, mirroring his earlier lackadaisical pose. “So, is orange really your favorite color?”

“They have that in your file?”

He’s torn between being impressed and incredulous. It makes you wonder what they’ve managed to find on you.

You pull out a photo from your file. Flipping it over, you show him at a random dinner a couple weeks ago. You still don’t know how Xavier managed an invite to such a close-knit dinner but you suppose it’s best to not ask questions. “No. You just wear a lot of orange.”

He tries to snatch the photo out of your grasp but you quickly tuck it back into its place. “You have pictures of me?”

“I’ll show you mind if you show me yours.”

He rewards you with a laugh. “Yeah, s’fair.”

You pass over some of your photos and Lando does the same. You’re mildly terrified of how many Lando hands to you but he does not share the same reservations.

Lando flips through the photos. He keeps his expression neutral, betraying nothing as he sees how he’s been tailed without his knowledge.

“Do you have a favorite?”

You take a second too long to answer. “…Yes.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth but you refuse to let him embarrass you. “Do you have one?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he mocks. Without needing to sort through your pile, he reaches over and takes the one off the top. He places it flat down in front of you, waggling his eyebrows as he does so.

You motion for him to hand you the ones he’s holding and he obliges. It takes a short amount of time even with your feigned studying of the pictures to pick one out.

All of them vary in degrees of how off guard Lando looks but this one in particular looks as if it is any run of the mill day for him. He’s laughing, fingers digging into his friend’s arm for balance. His eyes are crinkled and there’s a lightness to him that seems as if it’s attached to him at all times.

You swallow. Heat begins to collect underneath your cheeks. You hope Lando does not realize how much this photo flays you open.

You slide across the table, face down as well, and wait for him.

“On three?” he suggests.

You can’t look at him. You’ve accidentally laid your heart on a platter and now you must let Lando decide if it’s worth devouring. “On three.”

“One…two…”

You don’t know what you were expecting but you do know it is not this.

“Oh my god,” you groan, cheeks warm for an entirely different reason now.

You’re lounging by the pool in an outfit that is appropriate when you think you’re not being photographed by a random man’s family. You’re shading your eyes with your hand, mouth in a pout as you consider someone in the distance. Odds are, you were arguing with your friend Hiba about something stupid.

However, discomfort soon replaces the embarrassment seeping into your skin as you make a mental check of when you last hung out with Hiba by the pool. That had been…months ago. Your parents had made it seem as if this arrangement was a recent idea and not one they’ve been concocting for months.

Your vision flickers for a moment as your blood rushes to your head. At least they decided against springing a surprise wedding upon you, you suppose. It can always be worse.

Lando lingers on his photo and then puts it down. “So lying is a big deal to you.” He frames it as a statement and yet, he glances up at you through his lashes. His bottom lip is tucked beneath his top teeth.

You thumb your stack of photos, hesitant to see the images that have created the baseline of Lando’s perception of you. A sharp pain flares at the corner of your thumb. Blood is smeared across the white edges of the photos. You press your tongue against the paper cut to stave off the pain. Lando follows the quick flick of your tongue.

“It can be,” you admit. You are many things but you are not unrealistic. There will be things Lando must keep from you, husband or not, for your safety and his. But you don’t think it to be too tall an ask for some modicum of honesty to be what the both of you default to. “I want to trust you. And I want you to trust me.”

“So you’ll be willing to divulge all of your family’s secrets then?” Steel underlays the playful tease in his voice.

You keep yourself from rolling your eyes but it’s a near thing. He is so dramatic. “You will be my family when we’re married.” An emotion you can’t place flits across his face. Filing it away for later, you point at him. “And you lied about something easy to disprove. I’d rather us not act like we’re strangers when I practically have a minor in Lando Norris and vice versa.”

He nibbles the granola from your yogurt. “A minor, huh? You’re that confident?”

You tilt your head. “Should I have booked a seafood restaurant instead for dinner then? I heard Mariana’s does an excellent salmon.”

“Ugh, no. They got that correct.”

You share a smile with him. The tension cracks, giving the two of you breathing room. “Look, I’m not asking for full discretion for the…unsavory parts. Just you know.” You shrug.

“A partnership,” he supplies.

You make a so-so motion with your hand. “Is that what we want to call it?”

“Well, I’m a bit of a romantic so…” His voice trails off suggestively. But the brightness in his eyes lets you know he’s mostly kidding.

You bite the bait he’s hanging so lowly in your face. Compromise is one of the commandments of marriage, right? “Oh, are you now?”

He nods slowly. He finishes off the parfait and now points the smeared spoon at you. “Just you wait.”

“Alright Romeo, let’s start with a date first,” you say, unable to keep from smiling. “I promised you that much, didn’t I?”

He slaps his hands against his thighs. “That you did. Steak wasn’t it?”

You make a face. “Boring but yes. Short notice and all.” You drop a couple bills onto the table before slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Ready to sweep me off my feet?”

“Born ready,” he drawls, standing up.

You don’t miss the flash of silver at his waist. The sweatpants don’t do a good job of hiding what’s hidden there but maybe that is the point.

He catches your wandering eye and extends a hand towards you. His fingers are callused and rough but it’s soothing to you. You’ve never known a soft touch in your life and Lando is no exception.

“I take care of what’s mine,” Lando assures you. “You won’t have to worry about a thing with me.”

His smile is all teeth.

-

It’s overwhelming to be the object of Lando’s desire you come to find out.

“Lando, not here,” you breathe, eyeing his closed but unlocked office door. His lips drag across your throat, open-mouthed and with a hint of teeth.

“I’m a newlywed I think I can be forgiven,” he says, rucking your dress up higher on your body. The edge of his desk digs into your thighs but you hardly notice as Lando traces his nose down your hammering pulse. “Or did you wear this—“ His fingers stop crawling around your hips when he realizes there is no scrap of fabric lying against your skin. He runs his hand over your smooth skin again as if to do a sanity check. “Oh, you’re such a tease.”

He looks up at you through heavily lidded eyes and you grin. With how voracious Lando’s appetite for you is, you didn’t think underwear was worth the chance he might ruin another pair of panties. You’re still mourning that hot pink set he ripped with his teeth.

“Didn’t feel like leaving you something to remember me by this time,” you quip, spreading your legs.

Lando groans, sliding his hand down your thigh until his fingers brush against you. “Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” he says raggedly. He nips at your throat, the bite sharp enough to leave the imprint of teeth. The pain dissolves as the fever in your blood heightens. He soothes the faint sting with a wet kiss, apologetic and unrepentant at the same time.

He sinks two demanding fingers into you with ease. You turn your face into his bicep, trying to keep yourself from gasping too loudly. Your teeth dig into the fabric as his fingers curl up, nudging a spot inside that heats your blood to an inferno. You whimper, urging him closer. Lust clouds your senses and makes his teasing touches torturous.

He drags his thumb across your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure cascading down your spine. The muscles in your thighs tighten and your knee hitches up to his side.

Lando huffs a laugh, blowing cool air against your sweaty skin. “Thought you didn’t want this,” he mocks.

“I changed my mind,” you say. Unbuckling his belt, you try to shove his pants down. An impatient whine accompanies you when he doesn’t make it easier for you. “Hurry up.”

He kisses his way down from your jaw to your chest, ignoring how you plead with him. His lips skate across your nipples, tongue darting out to circle them briefly before he drags that same traitorous tongue up the line of your chest.

“Stop being mean,” you whine, trying to push his head off of you.

“You like when I’m mean.” But he acquiesces, shoving down his pants.

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and your stomach twists. The smooth head rubbing against your cunt has you faltering, reminding you of where you are. You almost want to tell Lando to wait but then he’s hiking your leg over his hip as he sinks into you.

A gasp is punched out of you as he stretches you around his cock. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, instead, choosing to press himself into you even further, reaching somewhere in you you didn’t even know existed.

Lando drives into you, his pace so rough that you can hardly catch your breath.

You moan, a broken guttural sound that Lando swallows greedily.

“You don’t want the others to hear, hmm?” he whispers against your ear. His fingers trail over you, featherlight and too much on your oversensitive skin. Yet, you arch into the touch anyway.

Warmth begins to build up in your belly and you feel it down to your toes. Lando slides his hands underneath your hips and yanks you forward, forcing you to take him down to the hilt.

Tears blur your vision. Your blood pounds so loudly in your ears you no longer hear the muffled sounds of Lando’s business partners outside. A shuddering sob of Lando’s name escapes your lips.

“That’s it,” he croons. “Just like that.”

Lando rubs his thumb against your clit, synced with his thrusts. Before long, you’re tightening up and coming all over his cock.

He loses his rhythm as you whine against the sensitivity. With his chest pressed against you, you can feel all of him tense up. He jerks his hips into you shallowly one, two times before you feel the telltale warmth.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he mumbles, resting his head against your collarbone.

Lando lifts your hand and curls your fingers so he can press a kiss against your wedding ring. And you think, yeah, this is a man you can learn to love.

-

The two lines weren’t enough to convince you but the ‘pregnant’ staring up at you is harder to dismiss.

You still rub at your eyes, hoping once your vision clears again, you’ll see the ‘not’ that is surely hidden. You wait a few seconds until your eyes adjust and the result does not change.

An anxiety induced nausea begins to curdle the little food that is left in your stomach.

You’re pregnant.

You’ve only been married for six weeks.

There’s a knock on the door. “Babe? You okay?”

You can practically hear Lando making the mental decision not to jangle the door knob though you know it kills him not to. Instead, he leans against the door. The wood creaks underneath his weight.

Somehow, you wet your throat enough to not have your voice crack as you call out, “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

You put the pregnancy tests back into the box and shove it behind your pads underneath the sink. Carefully shutting the cabinet door, you stand up and wash your hands. Your motions are methodical as if it is someone else commandeering you to scrub at your hands and dry them on the towel.

You turn the door knob slowly, pushing the door outwards. Immediately, Lando gathers you into a hug when you step out.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

You return his hug, perhaps squeezing him a little tighter than you usually do. “I missed you, too,” you say automatically. You’re still processing the two lines and the definitive pregnant you saw. If you had taken only one test, you could have convinced yourself it was a fluke. But two tests from two completely different companies would beg to differ.

“You okay?” he repeats, pulling back so he can look at you.

You don’t know how to lie to him so you say, “Just a little nauseous, that’s all.”

His attention sharpens. “Nauseous?”

“Mm hmm.” You try to duck underneath his arm but Lando holds you back.

“Hold on,” he cautions, running a critical eye over you. “For how long?”

You rack your brain for an evasive answer that will suffice but Lando is like a shark scenting blood in the water.

“How long?” he urges. There’s something wild lurking in his eyes. It cuts a serrated edge to his voice.

You won’t look at him. “I mean,” you hedge. “A while?”

That doesn’t cut it. “How long is a while?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t keeping count!” you snap, throwing your hands up in the air.

“A couple of days? A week? Weeks?”

“Lando.”

He tries to smooth out the impatience in his expression. “My love, please humor me. I’m worried.”

You take a breath and count to ten. Running your tongue over your teeth, you try to remember the first time you felt this bone deep nausea that made you want to take your stomach out of your body. “Five days,” you say. “Now, can we go eat dinner?”

You aren’t hungry in the slightest. But a chewing Lando means there won’t be a talking Lando and you will take your wins where you can get them.

He looks like he wants to continue this frankly riveting conversation but you pout. It works more times than it does not and right now is no exception. He kisses his teeth and mutters an agonized, “You’re unfair.”

You force yourself to eat dinner. Your nausea clogs your throat, making each bite a monumental task as you try and listen to Lando recount his day. The food is heavy in your stomach, a leaden weight that you are overly conscious about.

Lando slows down in his complaints about Carlos. He puts his fork to the side of his plate. You find it hard to hold his attention for long.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Smiling tightly, you nod. Saliva pools in your mouth and you pray you’ll last the five minutes needed for Lando to finish eating. “Just been a long day.”

He doesn’t believe you but he’s always indulged you so he swiftly moves onto discussing the rest of his day. You nod at all the right places and ask him follow up questions. Lando becomes so engrossed in picking at your brain that his suspicions are temporarily set aside.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish eating and for you to make your escape, citing a much needed shower as your reason. You rinse off quickly and run through your night routine before Lando can sneak in. You examine yourself in the mirror with every conceivable angle and find your stomach looks as it always does. Your pregnancy is in its early stages but somehow, you are fearful Lando will know by simply looking at your bare stomach.

He joins you while you finish brushing your teeth. There’s a disgruntled wrinkle to his brows and if you were in the right headspace, you might ask him what’s wrong.

He leans his hip against the door frame as he watches you apply your moisturizer. The wrinkle deepens.

“You feeling okay?”

The nausea has finally settled but your nerves have not. A staticky energy buzzes underneath your skin. “Yeah.”

It has only been two hours since you found out and you don’t think you can keep this to yourself for any longer. God, you guys haven’t even discussed kids yet. Lando deserves a proper announcement but you can’t do that when you don’t know if he even wants kids this early.

But waiting will do you no favors.

“Lando,” you say. Your throat strains and you feel the pinpricks of tears beginning to fill your lash line. “I need to tell you something.”

He tips your chin up. Worry darkens his eyes when he scans your sickly face. Whatever he’s searching for he does not find given by the flex of his cheek muscle. A specific type of misery replaces his worry and it makes your stomach tangle into a knot to know you’ve put such an expression on your husband’s face. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t look like he’s keen on the answer but he smooths his hand over your jaw encouragingly. His shoulders straighten as if he wishes to brace himself.

“I’m pregnant.” The confession is clumsy on your too thick tongue.

For a moment, Lando doesn’t react. It’s as if the words have no meaning to him.

“You’re pregnant?” he breathes. Both his hands are placed against your cheeks, cupping your face gently. “You’ve taken a test?”

You nod, unable to speak. And then you hold up two fingers, hoping he understands.

“Both of them were positive?”

You nod again.

A bright grin spreads across his mouth. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to your stomach.

“You’re not…upset?” you ask in a small voice.

He’s quick to snap his attention back to you. “Why would I be upset? Are you upset?”

You bite your lip. You haven’t given it much thought despite how you’ve spent the last hour on the brink of a panic attack. You want kids, that much has always been clear to you.

But you certainly hadn’t anticipated getting pregnant only weeks into your marriage to someone who is essentially a stranger. You like Lando, and in your private moments you can admit to yourself you will come to love him for who he is, but you don’t know Lando.

“No,” you say, testing how it makes you feel. It gives weight to the indecision warring within you so you try to remedy it by following up with, “It’s overwhelming.”

He strokes your cheekbone gently. “We’ll be okay. We’re probably better off than most.”

You cut him an irritated look. Your baby will be provided for but they will also be in danger for the unforeseeable future simply because of who their parents are.

It is something you’ve always known for your kids but you thought you would have more time to prepare for it.

He frowns. “Hey, you know I’d never let anything happen to you. Or our baby.”

“I know that. It’s just—“ You shrug helplessly. “It’s so soon, Lando. We barely know each other.”

He scoffs. “We know each other plenty. Our, uh, what did they call it?” He looks around as if the word will materialize in front of him.

“Courtship,” you offer, amused.

“Courtship! It was long. Longish,” he corrects sheepishly.

Considering how quickly both your families wish to secure this alliance, the period before your engagement was quite long. You’re reluctant to call it dating given that you and Lando knew exactly how it would end but it was a two month period you wouldn’t have been afforded if Lando hadn’t pushed for it.

He had been gracious with your hesitation, promising to go at your pace. For all of Lando’s lightheartedness, he had a maturity about him that surprised you. His patience endeared you to him and it didn’t take you long to stop pushing off the inevitable.

And now look at the two of you: married for six weeks with a baby on the way.

You think you are going to be sick and it has nothing to do with your pregnancy related nausea.

“How are you not freaking out?” You press your forehead against his shoulder.

Lando takes things on the chin. It’s something you admire and wish you could adopt into your own personality with equal finesse. Unfortunately, you are built to overthink and anticipate the worst case scenario.

“I don’t think it’s hit me yet,” he admits. “But when it does, I’ll still be just as happy. It’s me and you. We got this.”

Fear clings to you but it’s tempered by his confidence. “I’ll freak out for the both of us then.”

He laughs. The sound is pure sunshine amongst the doom and gloom you’ve held close to your chest the past few hours. “Don’t you always?”

You punch at his arm, if it can even be classified as that. He laughs again and lifts your head so he can kiss you. He’s smiling so much it’s hardly a kiss but it warms you all the same.

“Where are the pregnancy tests?” Lando asks when he pulls away.

“Behind the pads downstairs.”

His eyes widen. “That makes so much sense,” he says to himself. You look at him weirdly but he doesn’t notice. “Be right back.”

He’s out the door and down the stairs in a matter of seconds. You’d find it cute if he wasn’t literally going to go grab some sticks you peed on. But you also deprived him of finding out with you so you suppose it is cute.

You eye your box of birth control pills on the counter almost forlornly. You were supposed to start a new pack two days ago but with how severe your nausea has been, you didn’t bother taking them the last two days seeing as they would end up flushed down the toilet soon enough.

With a heavy sigh, you pick up the pack to throw it away. When your finger meets the frayed edge of the box, you pause.

You know you didn’t open this pack. You couldn’t have and yet, it pulls apart easily. Pushing the pack out of the box, your eyebrows creep to your hairline as you notice the first two days of pills are missing.

A hand disrupts your vision as Lando smoothly plucks the box out of your grasp and tosses it into the trash. You follow the box as it drops into the trash. The two punched out holes peek at you over the opened edge.

Unease knits itself across your heart. An unfamiliar tightness coils in your stomach, the sort that makes your blood curdle in your veins. Lando wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do this to you.

It would be much easier to convince yourself if a self-satisfied smile wasn’t currently curving Lando’s mouth.

“Guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”

this fic is finished. there won't be a part 2. thanks!

#Lando Norris #lando Norris x reader #Lando Norris x you #Lando Norris smut #formula 1 x you #Lando Norris imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula 1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #mafia!Lando Norris #dark fic #writing: lando Norris

[parkerloves]

JUST MY TYPE | Rb! Sebastian Vettel x Singer! Reader

MASTERLIST

paring: Redbull! Sebastian Vettel x uninteresed! singer!fem!reader

summary: she had to sing once to entertain the paddock, since then, seb just wants her to himself even though she doesn't seem very willing

fc; gracie abrams+ pinterest girls (but picture her as you like)

warnings: seb is a bit of an egocentric ass but a cute one ig + modern au

ynnews has posted!

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 7,863,863 other

ynnews: our girl has been spotted singing to some drivers and a certain german seemed very interested

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: I loved meeting some of you guys there! <3

user542: it was AMAZING to meet you

user263: PLEASE KEEP GOING TO THE PADDOCK

user762: Sebastian, what are you doing here?

user652: simping over our goddess

jensonbutton: I knew I was right @sebastianvettel you finally have her ig, now shut up

sebastianvettel: fuck you

yourusername has posted!

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 6,462,927 other

yourusername: I never thought I'd like watching cars race in circles but here we are

sebastianvettel: something a bit more blue would definitely fit you better

user653: ... try not to be so obvious sir

jensonbutton: not worthy here

yourbff: OMG red IS your color

yourusername: Ofc I had to or else my dad would literally kill me

user287: OKAY HEAR ME OUT, she'll end up with Redbull paddock passes, I just know

liked by sebastianvettel

user426: let's be delulu together my friend

user287: do you not know Sebastian?

user426: no, but I do know yn

sebastianvettel has posted!

liked by ynnews, jensonbutton and 1,762,652 others

sebastianvettel: great race, great weekend, thanks for everything SPA

tagged: redbull

user287: since you're not tagging her, I'll do it myself @yourusername

jensonbutton: I like your strategy, let me help @yourusername

yourbff: I shouldn't be doing this but... @yourusername

user625: so we all ship them now or what?

yourusername: congrats on the win!

jensonbutton: HE'S BLUSHING AT HIS PHONE, WHAT-

sebastianvettel: YOU SHUT UP

sebastianvettel: @yourusername thanks gorgeous

yourusername has posted!

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 6,276,417 other

yourusername: waking up, writing songs and going back to sleep that's my life now

sebastianvettel: I mean I can help changing that

user543: SEBASTIAN CALM DOWN

user326: did we officially lose him?

user286: over yn? probably

yourbff: new album coming up?

yourusername: 🤫🤫

yourusername has posted a story!

first one: no caption, liked by sebastianvettel and 4,654,862 others

sebastianvettel has replied to your story

is still a lost battle to invite you to another gp since you seem to like redbull?

so now the drink and the car are the same?

we have an unlimited source of drinks

I could think about it then

second one: caption: back again?, liked by sebastianvettel and 4,654,862 others

yourbff has replied to your story

NO WAY HE GOT IT

jesus, don't scream

I never thought of your type like the flirty type

he's not my type

I know, that's why I don't know WHY YOU LIKE HIM

read at 19:54 pm

yourusername has posted!

liked by sebastianvettel, yourbff and 10,754,475

yourusername: he seemed even more excited to see me than to race

tagged: sebastianvettel

user126: GUYS THIS IS NOT A FALSE ALARM, YN HAS POSTED A GUY HERE

yourusername: god, I thought Seb would be the only one screaming because of this

user725: SEB? AW

sebastianvettel: is not my fault you looked almost perfect

yourusername: almost perfect?

sebastianvettel: you could lose the Ferrari jacket

yourusername: and be cold? no thanks xx.

sebastianvettel has posted!

liked by yourusername, ynnews and 2,753,725 others

sebastianvettel: I think we got rid of the jack and the cold problem

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: don't lie to the public, you tricked me into wearing that

sebastianvettel: good thing it suits you

yourusername: everything suits me

sebastianvettel: I mean you're not wrong

yourbff: NOW I'M SHOCK

yourusername: shhh

yourbff: I'm telling your dad about the jacket

yourusername: do it and you're dead :)

use426: I HAD ALWAYS KNOW IT

#sebastian vettel #formula one #formula 1 #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 #jenson button #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you

[rafeandonlyrafe]

separate lines

words: 600 (+ three images)

warnings: entire fic is through phone calls/text messages, parental death (ward), established relationship, kinda protective rafe but its cute he just misses his girl, includes pictures of "readers" face/body, kind of illusions to sex (like barely!), overall pretty fluffy

“rafey!” you squeal as you answer your phone seconds after it rings. “how's it going?”

“well, everything is still standing.” rafe huffs out. you can practically hear the stress in his voice.

“that's good, baby. i miss you a lot.” sure, he just left this morning to drive back to the outer banks, but that doesn't change the fact that you miss him anytime he's away from you.

“god, i miss you too. if rose didn't need me here id still be-

“i know.” you cut rafe off. “you're back for three days with your family. it'll be fine and then we will be back together.”

you know being back in the outer banks is stressful for rafe after everything that happened. the mess with barry, the pogues, and then all culminating in his dad dying. when you decided to go a couple hours away to college, you still thought you'd have to persuade your boyfriend to come with you, to leave the only life he's ever known, but he jumped at the chance.

you live in a luxury townhouse right near downtown. you're even able to walk to most of your classes, of course with rafe by your side.

“you're right.” rafe hums. “we are figuring out the will stuff tomorrow morning.”

“i wish i could be there for you. text or call if you need anything.” you have classes tomorrow, but you'd drop anything if rafe really needed you.

“yeah just… text me updates, please? even if you just do the laundry or something. it helps to know.”

“of course i will.” you smile, hearing some commotion in the background. “and rafey? give wheezie a hug for me.”

“is that y/n?” you hear her voice in the background, then the fumbling of the phone being handed off.

“y/n!” wheezie squeals.

“wheezie, my girl!”

--

--

“how are you getting to class?” rafe asks, looking into the room where proceedings are about to start, going over his fathers will and who gets what. he knows most of it will go to rose, most likely the house and the real estate company. he doesn't really care. he has a new life now, one with you.

“amber is gonna drive me and pick me up. and no, her boyfriend will not be there.” you giggle, knowing even though amber and her boyfriend steven have been together since third grade, rafe would still worry with him around.

“and you're going to poli sci and then your geology lab, right?” rafe has your schedule memorized, but he likes to hear your confirmation anyways.

“yup!” you nod, even though rafe can't see you. “im excited for todays lab, actually. it's not rock identification, which you know i suck at.”

rafe let's out a soft laugh, having sat and listened to your complaining about rocks for hours already this semester.

“rafe, it's starting soon.” rose says, her words being picked up by you, otherwise rafe probably would have just ignored her in favor of keeping talking.

“alright, baby. hope it all goes well and doesn't take too long. i love you.” you coo into the phone.

“love you more.”

--

--

“home tomorrow.” rafe whispers softly, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the house. he's exhausted, so they must be too. it was a long day with lots of legal jargon, but everything got divided up about how he expected it to. 

most to rose, then the additional savings divided up evenly between him, sarah, and wheezie.

“im glad.” you whisper back, matching his tone even though you're home alone. “i ordered a cute pair of pajamas to wear to help me sleep. you know how much i struggle without you.”

“your insomnia cure.” rafe smiles, remembering what you called him after you first started sharing a bed, able to easily relax into him and fall into a true deep sleep.

“mhm.” you hum out, letting out a yawn. “do you mind staying on the call until i fall asleep?”

“baby, ill stay on all night.”

--

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

#i forgot to change the times for the texts so just pretend reader scrolled back and screenshoted them all at the same time thanks! #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #obx fic #outer banks fic #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x oc #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe one shot #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron imagine

[nabitsun]

౨ৎ SPINE BREAKER

fem! reader x nerdy! choso

᭝ synopsis : who knew you just needed good dick from a nerdy boy to lose that attitude.

᭝ tags: smut & little angst? uni (both in their 20s), reader is kind of a minx but you'll pick that up.. (well, all reader's friends are) porn w plot would've guessed, oral sex (f), pussyjob, unprotected (pull out game 10/10), uhh sweet choso duh <3

᭝ wc: 11.5k ...

᭝ notes: t'was supposed to be a one-scene typa oneshot but got carried away - blame it on nerdy! choso. (i remixed that shit 4 times)

"shoko.."

"what is it?"

"no need to put these under my nose i've told you, i'm not coming." you slap her hand away gently, she's holding two entries for a random party in town.

"oh but you will." she smiles.

you know you will, you always do.

"c'mon i have two entries? i can't waste them."

"exactly, ask yuki to come with you."

"she also bought two entries, she's already coming with someone else."

you give her a quizzical look,

"i don't know any better, she didn't say."

"she's probably inviting aoi over again, God.. another reason to not come.." you shake your head at the sole thought of the man.

"who's that?" she says, switching up outfits in front of her as she ponders in front of the mirror.

"y'know that meathead eccentric guy who's like, super fan of her,"

"ohh, that one.." she hums in thoughts "mh, i doubt it though. the last time he was here, he didn't leave with that same smug face. if he keeps getting into trouble the way he does, I doubt she'll invite him back."

she's referring to the last time yuki invited aoi to one of these parties, not to sugarcoat anything but he definitely learnt the hard way to not be an arrogant show off.

"i hope not." you mumble

"stop trying to find excuses. you're coming with me, we're gonna have a good time, end of story."

you let out a crude laugh, "let me rephrase. you're gonna have a good time, and i am gonna get bored out of my mind." you can see her roll her eyes, "i don't even see the point of going there."

"because you don't try to have fun."

"if trying to have fun implies rubbing myself on some smelly drunk strangers with shitty ass songs in the background, then yeah i'd rather not try."

"you're no fun, it's not that bad."

"it's not that bad until you reach your fifth drink" you quick back as you cross your arms over your chest as if to withdraw from this endless battle that you know, will defeat you.

"aren't you being a little dramatic, now?" shoko barely looks at you with raised eyebrows. she knows as well as you do that beyond her tolerance limit she's no longer controllable, which is why you've spent many nights taking her home and trying - as best you could - to bring her back safe and sound. she won't admit it though.

you dismiss the (probably) rhetoric question, "since yuki's coming, why do you want me to go so bad?"

"what a silly question." she sighs as if she'd heard a child say the most gullible nonsense, "i like having you around, that is all."

"something is tellin' me you don't wanna end up third wheeling," you sing song.

"shut up.. you're coming anyway." she avoids your stare and lets out a heavy sigh, "you like the blue one?" she twirls the dress on its hanger around and turn over to face you, she tilts her head on the side as if to weight your future answer.

"i like the purple better."

"that's what i was thinking.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

being confided in the car with a loquacious shoko didn't help the growing headache you felt in the back of your skull. it had been a tough week.

your exams were approximately in a week and just thinking about it actively made your head hurt even more, and your throat tightened with culpability.

"hey, don't die on me now." shoko glares at you from the side as she's driving to the house. you feel her checking you multiple times.

"i'm fine," you sigh, rubbing your temples in an attempt to soothes the growing pain – that eventually worsened when shoko suddenly hit the brakes, a bit too abruptly to your liking, at a stop sign.

"girl, you either need a good night sleep or some good dick." she clicks her tongue, "look at you," she emphasizes by shaking her head as if the sole sight was too much for her.

"focus on not getting us crashed already."

"i'm serious though, you want some water?"

"no–no, i told you i'm okay." you look ahead of you, resting your head against the headrest for some support ; flashes of cars and traffic lights interacting in the night, "you drive like shit though."

"wow. okay, you'll show me how much of a good driver you are when you'll drive me back tonight, yeah?" she chuckles, taking a second turn on a new avenue.

"having you drunk in the back of the car is a constant fight of trying to not make you throw everything up, of course i have to drive nicely."

you see your friend nodding as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel, apparently at loss of words.

"mhm, thanks?"

you relax back with a content smile, "i prefer that,"

the house is not so far from your respective apartments, also not far from your university, which is around a fifteen minutes drive.

you can't really be mad at shoko for dragging you to those places ; the kind of places where she often ends up with a grain of lucidity to keep her half upright, while all the rest of her cognition makes her look like a psychotic out of an asylum. and even though you're practically always the one driving her back to her place, it doesn't exclude the fact that you need this sometimes.

despite your complaints of not wanting to go with her – for various reasons that you listed prior, but also because of your upcoming exams that are sucking the energy directly out of you – you still kind of look forward to the evening, if you're being honest. it gives you the opportunity to sit back and suspend the course of time for an evening, as ephemeral as it is.

the car stops at a red light as you think back to shoko's words, back in her room.

"yuki still didn't tell you about her special guest ?" you mindlessly ask as you fix your makeup by looking in the mirror of the sunshade, curling your eyelashes with the edge of your index to fix them.

"nope, i might have an idea though.." she pauses, you don't say anything as you wait for her to continue, "you know that guy she hangs out with sometimes? she's not like always with him but i don't think she'd invite anyone else, knowing her.."

"what guy?" you frown, you close the sunshade to look at her.

"uhh, black hair, pale skin, really quiet too. one of those snobs who behaves like termites by staying in their hole, you know. i don't even think i've ever talked to him, or seen him talk for that matter." she squints her eyes to reminisce old memories but the sudden shift of color on the traffic lights makes her focus back on the road.

"like what? a sorta depressed emo boy or something?" you scoff.

she laughs, out of mockery for your credulity it seems, "pretty close. but he's really.. the nerdy type y'know? the type to sit there and not say a word unless spoken to about some stupid nerdy shit, i guess."

"as long as he doesn't talk about fuckin' uni or something like that tonight, i'm good." you sigh at the thought as you close your eyes, clearly ignoring the silent warnings in her eyes.

"oh girl, you're such a fucking minx."

you ignore her offense when you continue your interview, "why would she invite him though? i mean why would he even come?"

"why did you?"

you keep silent.

"exactly," she states, "now keep your curiosity to yourself, you're about to find out."

after a few bends leading to the far end of town, you then remark the students crowding the lawn, stepping everywhere as some of them walk to the entry of the house.

no wonder you had to pay entries to get to some crackhead student party – you understood when you saw the size of the house and how many people there was. you silently hoped there was no one around as they would probably spend one hell of a night.

"not too far, i don't wanna have to carry you fifty meters tonight." you warn as shoko tries to find a good parking spot.

she sends you a hard glare and mumbles something inaudible that almost sounds like an insult. she seems to comply anyways as she parks not to far from the entry.

you were met with fresh air as you stepped outside the car, the extremities of your skin growing cold as well as your bare legs barely warming up with the strides you were taking. it was only eight in the afternoon and yet, you already saw wobbly people trying to walk their way out of the house. the two of you approach the path leading to the house, hearing the music as it gradually intensifies.

"there," shoko throws the car keys to you as you catch them hardly in your hands, "in case i lose them during the evening, you're in charge." you don't say anything, you'll have to drive back home anyways.

the calm atmosphere of an april evening was replaced without much transition as you walked past the open doors. the lights of the traffic lights now seemed far less stimulating in comparison to the sight in front of you. and paradoxically, your headache had disappeared, making you guess it was indeed, shoko's driving.

shoko turned around and took your hand to lead you through the numerous ponds of people hovering the place, talking, singing, dancing or even making out grossly. your steps grew heavier – whether from the combined heat of everyone weighing down on you or the vibrations of the boosted bass – it felt as if you were clearly reaching the pit of hell, both physically and symbolically.

and you could feel that with every steps forward, requiring the unsolicited touch of people brushing past you. the odors coming on play for less than a few seconds to merge with your own scent, just to disappear as soon as it entered past your nostrils. the lights changing from blue to purple to pink or even red, reflecting on the few skin shoko was showing with her slip dress as she was leading the way.

to say you were getting overstimulated was understandable. it was like getting thrown into a pit with only hungry lions to face; and with that dramatic metaphor you noted that the first lion you'd have to fight tonight, was the woman in front of you.

once you both reached what seemed to be the main saloon – though it was hard to decipher with the ton of people and the lack of furniture, beside some occupied couches. you didn't even know who was hosting the party to be fair, it seemed to change every other week like some sort of competition of who's gonna have the privilege to clean the big mess next morning – although you'd guess they probably have someone to do just that.

you were so focused on the environment you didn't even see the golden shadow passing by when a pair of fingers snapped you out of your illusion.

"you look like it's your first time at the zoo."

by the tone and voice you wouldn't even need to turn around. yuki looks at you with crossed arms in a sleeveless black turtleneck and flare jeans with a hint of a smile – out of friendliness or amusement, you didn't know.

"definitely feels like it," you smile back as you reach out to embrace her, which she welcomes.

"i see, shoko brought you here just to be her cab home then hm?" she tilts her head ignoring the way shoko snapped her head in her direction.

"hey don't say that! i wanted her company t–"

she gets interrupted by a loud noise, not seemingly coming from the music but by someone who just seemed to crash down on a wooden coffee table – one of the furniture you had such a hard time to see apparently because some people decided to stand on it. both girls in front of you roll their eyes almost in sync.

"well, looks like the alcohol's kicking in. you're coming with me?" yuki addresses to shoko and you.

"yeah i need to get something, i don't like how aware i am right now." shoko shakes her head in disapproval of the events.

the three of you approach the kitchen, where all the drinks stand upright and ready to use like weapons of war laid out on a table.

you don't venture into drink design, preferring to leave it to shoko or yuki, who apparently know best what they're doing since they're arguing over whether pineapple or cranberry would be more suitable to mix with vodka. once the ingredients are mixed, you all take a sip to mark the start of your evening.

"ew what the–" your body shudder lightly from disgust as you lower your hand over the counter, "tastes like piss seriously.." you whine and look at the wrongdoer.

"told you pineapple was a bad choice." yuki restates, but she's ignored by shoko, who takes the cup from your hand and pours the contents into her own cup.

"fuckin' alcoholic.." you breathe out in amusement.

"i paid for these, might as well make it worth my while." shoko rejoins and it makes you think..

"hey yuki, talking about entries, where's your guest?"

she takes another sip before answering through the music as she leans over, "he told me he wanted to use the bathroom, he went upstairs i think but.." she looks around, ".. i don't see him around, maybe he's stuck in there or something." she shrugs as if it were the most banal piece of information.

you naturally frown at the answer and at her lack of interest as to where her friend might be, so does shoko as she flicks yuki's forehead – earning an annoyed grunt from her victim.

"you can talk about me, you don't even care about your friend."

"he's a dude girl, if he's staying up there there's a reason. i'm sure he's fine," she shrugs once again with round eyes devoid of any remorse.

as they continue to argue mindlessly you sneak your hand on the counter, gliding it across the surface to grab discreetly yuki's cup, probably much tastier with cranberry, and retrieve it back to walk away and leave them to their incessant vindictive promises.

you're sure when you come back they'll still be on their feet – at least you'd like to put this much faith in them – as you rush through agglutinated people to get past the stairs. you don't really know why you're going, maybe you could say he picked your interest ; the thought of a guy like him in the middle of the evening just reminds you of a lamb around a horde of wolves.

you take a couple more sips from your cup and climb the stairs, squeezing past a heated couple making out in the middle of it. you follow down the corridor to find a multitude of doors, and one at the end of it that would be the perfect prototype of the bathroom at the end of a corridor. once you reach it you lean in to rest your ear against the door, trying to gauge potential noises, but nothing.

you smooth your denim skirt down and readjust your purse on your shoulder. you knock once, then twice – over the music you're practically not able to hear your own knocking – until your press your fingers down on the locker slowly, peeking through the door but you're only welcomed with pitch black.

maybe he just got lost among people, or maybe he was one of the ones you saw vomiting their guts out outside – which is less probable, but not impossible. you don't really feel like acting like a detective and exploring every nook and cranny, for fear of also finding yourself in front of people fucking in one of the rooms, so you prefer to turn back on your heels, giving up on the mission you thought would spark up your evening a little bit.

but it doesn't really go as planned actually. as you walk back towards the stairs, you notice a door open ajar, as if to let in a trickle of air, so you don't pay it much attention, but it's only when you start to look away that you see the previously motionless shadow, move.

it's quite honest to think that it's the first effects of the alcohol that are starting to take effect, a blurry vision in addition to poor lighting – results are not promising. you pause in your steps once more, tightening your fingers around your cup as you tilt your head so that you can look through the doorway without acting too much like a voyeur.

that's when you see him. rather tall figure standing up with the major help of big boots, black trousers with a black shirt – or maybe the colors are tainted by the darkness of the room, barely lit up by an amber light. and you do notice the signature buns with a few strands falling on his forehead.

his movements are so ever delicate you're having a hard time to decipher if the stability of your vision is playing tricks on you, or if it's really the slowness of his movements. one of his hands reaches over the shelf, he grabs a book and opens it. so careless.

"didn't know you were also a creep." you open the door without warning, with your cup in a hand and it makes you think that you probably look like some drunken mess barging in a room.

he drops the book on the ground.

"fuck!" his panicked eyes dart to you, pretty purplish eyes, "i'm sorry— shit. i didn't mean to pry." he picks up the book from the ground, bending his knees to grab it softly.

"if anything, i was the one prying." you comment, entering the room. and.. oh? what a sight you're welcomed with. it's a crime to not have seen this man on campus before – or maybe that's his crime to decide to stay inside his room with such a pretty face. his eyebrows are still brought near the center of his forehead, a faint look of worry that doesn't seem to disperse as the seconds pass.

it's also shoko's crime not to have mentioned the few silver jewels adorning his lips and eyebrows, or the charcoal mark layered upon his nose and spread horizontally along the length, covering both cheeks. and maybe there's another crime to add to your list when his tired eyes look away from you, trying to find some sort of distraction, anywhere but on you.

"i wasn't doing anything, i swear." his voice is coated with the sweetest tones though it's deeper than you'd expected – such a contrast with his face.

"careful, there's no better way to appear guilty than with this sentence." and you swear you can see a light frown on his face. you take a couple more steps towards him, he stands still, the book still in his hand as it's closed and tightly wrapped around his fingers.

you reach for the book lazily, and you take good care to not try any brusque movements. it's like you're walking on thin ice and you just start to realize how quieter it got in the room, with the buzzing of music barely heard and a few people chanting way too far.

he doesn't even try to fight it, the book slips past his fingers easily as you grab it, "The Picture Of Dorian Gray". classic. he looks down at you silently, a bit too long as if he's realized something.

"are you planning to come down?"

he shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting part of his weight on one foot in a slightly awkward manner, "i don't really feel like it."

"why is that?" you put the book right in the empty space, where you guess it previously was, squished between the other books.

"i don't really enjoy.. this." he nods to the door.

"what do you enjoy then?"

he runs his tongue over his piercing, wetting his lips and smothering the silver ring with it in the process as he ponders, then locks eyes with you finally.

"not parties at least."

"mhm, i would've guessed."

the room was strangely not that big compared to the house, a very sober room that must have been for guests, at least no personal decorations were visible. you approached the window to watch the racket outside and you found yourself glad to be upstairs at the sight.

"yuki was getting worried though." you know it's not true, but you're trying your best, you really are.

he turns around to face you, still not moving an inch from his initial position though, "oh so you're one of yuki's friend? the one she said would come?"

"it depends on whether she talked about a little pain in the ass or a cheeky cynic."

"she used the term.. « bothersome minx », if i recall."

you chuckle softly and put your cup down on the windowsill, gliding it on the side as you turn to look at him. he eyes you up and down, tapping his fingers along his thighs and you're not sure if you are in good shape due to the previous consumption or if he's just being the analytical man he's known to be.

"what's your name?"

"choso."

"choso.." you introduce yourself as well, he repeats your name just the same, "wanna sneak out?"

"what do you mean? like right now?"

"yeah, why not? i mean you can stay in that room as long as you want but i doubt you'll have much fun." he turns his head to glance at the door lazily, gauging the proposal.

"what are we gonna do?"

"i don't know, we'll see." you shrug with a smile and you're not sure if playing the russian roulette with him is gonna get you anywhere but you're too interested to play it safe.

"hm, i want to be back for yuki though, she's gonna need a ride home."

"you will." you say simply, but choso raises his eyebrows, waiting for more based arguments rather than a simple affirmation. so you continue,

"we can just take the car, drive for a couple of minutes and you'll be back here before you even notice."

there's a few seconds of silence where you both look at each other, expecting an answer. he sighs, lowering his head and you think he's about to decline your invitation but..

"alright, but just for some time."

you can't help but grin widely, you eagerly dig in your purse for the car keys shoko gave you and take quick steps towards the exit. as you wait for him on the doorstep you see him take a few strides, but towards the windowsill where you previously were standing. he grabs the drink you left dismissively, his jacket on the bed, and throws your empty cup in the bin just in the corner of the room as he walks back towards you.

he smiles gently at you and closes the door behind the two of you.

you practically had to fight your way through the crowd waiting for you downstairs. you thought the hardest part would be getting through to the front door, but once outside you found yourself in a quandary as you had to tiptoe to avoid stepping on any garbage, sticky liquids or dead drunks on the lawn.

choso asked you if you were able to take the wheel, you told him yes, of course – you'd only had one drink that had barely shaken you. he insisted on driving anyway.

the place where you had him taken was one of the only ones not too far away that was still open at this hour; and especially one that didn't look like a crowded bar.

a small café-restaurant run by a woman who was far too old to still be on her feet serving until late at night – but she always did it with too much care that you always resigned yourself to going there, even if the prices were higher.

the car ride had been remotely silent, with only a few instructions as to the routes to take and choso asking you if you wanted to put the heat on.

you took your seats on the colorful banquettes, waiting for the woman to come and take your order. the contrast was quite ironic, seeing you and choso dressed for some fancy evening in a place that was very reminiscent of that kind of little retro restaurant in the 50s, with the famous jukebox playing ballads from Elvis Presley, and the endless greasy hot dogs displayed on the counter.

"didn't think you'd follow a stranger blindly,"

he rests his forearms on the table and bring his eyes back on you as they were occupied scanning the place, "you're no real stranger, you're yuki's friend after all."

"oh i'm sure you were the kinda kid to enter some random white van." you say, more to yourself though as you look at the menu briefly. he doesn't say anything in return, and you don't look up either to see if he's looking at you or not.

"tell me choso," his name is like the ring of a bell, his eyes widen just a little, "how come i've never seen you around? you're on campus right?"

"mhm, i guess," he opens his mouth as if to start a sentence but he soon renounces by closing it immediately, he reaches for his nape to massage it, "i guess i don't really hang out around campus."

"majoring in?"

"computer science."

you would have bet your entire fucking fortune on it. you let a smile slip through.

"um, you're friends with gojo satoru too, right?"

the question definitely surprises you, everyone knows who's satoru, and that's not to his advantage as he's more or so known for being one hell of a jerk. you nod and he takes a deep breath, one that speaks volumes.

"i know what he says about me, you know. i just don't want you to think i'm like that." he admits and the sight almost makes you frown, you don't know if it's pity or empathy but you shake the feeling away.

"what do you think he says about you?"

he pauses for a few seconds, he's quick to bring his hands around his ear piercing, fidgeting with them as he relaxes back against the banquette, he finally crosses his arms over his chest.

"they say things that aren't necessarily wrong but aren't totally true either."

when he says they, he's probably referring to shoko, or maybe suguru if you think about it, though he doesn't seem to care about people's business that much.

you'll blame choso's inability to communicate properly for his ambiguous answers and not because he's trying to pull a series of enigma right now.

"mhm, and don't you think i have a mind of my own?"

his eyes almost pop out of their sockets and he once again leans against the table, clearly not settled on how to sit still, "no–no i didn't mean to say that ! i'm sure you do," he says softly, yet still very much alarmed.

you almost regret your choice of words but he's so goddamn sweet it would be a shame not to tease him a little.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me." his fingers fidgets with the salt and pepper shaker in front him.

you know you're in no position to talk, you even feel embarrassed if you're being honest, as you were not just about an hour ago making fun of him in the car with shoko – that, he doesn't know.

the old woman comes back to take both your orders and it's as if the bubble you were both in had just burst, bringing you back to the café as the music gradually came back to your senses. choso orders a strawberry milkshake and you take a blueberry.

the way he talks is so sweet, it makes you physically wince, and let's not talk about the way he looks at the old woman like she was cotton candy to the eye. you think it's all an act he's about to drop when she leaves but, even when she returns behind the counter he returns his eyes on you with the same look ; heavy lids – that you don't know if they are the consequence of a long day or if they're always like that – with shades or purple circling them.

"you'll know that the only time I take satoru's opinion into account is when I have to make a choice for lunch. you're okay." you assure.

he nods slowly and you see his face soften at your reassuring words.

"i don't know why you hang out with them." he says and it's so faint you're not even sure if he mumbled to himself or if he actually talked to you.

you tilt your head on the side with a frown, "what do you mean?"

he takes some time to answer, to gather his words or because he's hesitant you don't really know.

"you were always so nice to me," but you're still puzzled so he continues, "back in high school, you weren't hanging out with this kind of people, y'know."

you don't even pay attention to the way he's not so subtly trying to bring your friends down, you readjust yourself in your seat, visibly confused.

"i don't.. i mean, we were in the same class?"

choso shrugs, not really phased to see you don't remember him at all, "you had a lot of friends. plus, i didn't have these two." he points his finger up to show his hair attached in two buns atop of his head as if it could be the sole reason of your memory lapse. silly.

"i like this look on you. you look nice with them." you say as you look at the hairstyle thoroughly. the praise seemed to have gotten to him because you can see a small smile on his lips as he looks around impatiently for the drinks to arrive – or maybe he just needed to lay his eyes somewhere else than on you.

the drinks arrive shortly after, not surprising due to the lack of customers as it's practically just the two of you there. you don't really say anything much, comfortable in the silence you're both in as you grab your order to taste them. you don't really want to continue the conversation about your friends right now, and choso seems to have dropped the idea of it too.

choso watches you as you lean in to wrap the straw around your lips, elbows on the table to support your body on top. he also watches the way the milkshake climbs up the straw to pour into your mouth, away from prying eyes.

"you want some?"

his blurred eyes meet yours.

"huh?"

you smirk, only because you're enjoying the look on his face and you want it to worsen. you straighten up properly, away from that damn straw and focus on choso, who grows a little embarrassed, somehow – you see it, he backs down a little just at the sight.

"i know what you want," you say, almost above a whisper, stirring the straw with painful slowness.

"you just gotta ask."

choso doesn't say anything. he doesn't really know what to say actually as he flicks his eyes between your eyes and your lips. he's panicked, that's one thing anyone could notice if only they had their attention on him.

"you want a taste, right?" you say with such a languid voice he has to look around to see if you're putting on a show for anyone around, in vain of any spectators. choso raises his eyebrows, devoid of any answers.

"my drink, you idiot."

such a fool, his pouding heart slows back down quietly into his chest and it shows by the prior rapid breaths that are replaced by long and painful sighs. and what a disguised curse to be around you. he doesn't even seem to notice the degrading name he got assigned, you're not even sure he's got to hear the short sentence correctly.

"um.. yeah, sure."

you glide the drink forward on the table until it reaches his fingers which firmly wrap around the glass – and if you were from the police you'd suspect it's to hide his shaking fingers. he puts his own lips where yours once were and begins to sip through the straw. he doesn't have to look up to see you watching intently, he can feel it.

"there you go, how is it?"

"s'good." he nods.

the aroma melts on his tongue, almost sugarcoating the strawberry he previously ingested and the sour taste of a little humiliation.

"i wonder what's going on in that little head of yours. you're so analytical with everything."

"you make me feel like I have to be."

a head tilt from you is all he needs to know he has to develop his thoughts.

"be aware of my surroundings."

your answer gets stuck in the back of your throat when you hear the buzzing of your phone in your purse, you dig it out : a call from shoko.

you excuse yourself and choso simply nods, you bring the phone to your ears and you soon regret the movement as dissonant noises come to deafen your drums – urging you to pull your phone away from your ear.

"h-hey!! where.." the sentence is cut by another voice, and maybe some screams, you don't really know. you squint your eyes as you try to decode the semblance of sentences thrown at you, you call shoko but she doesn't seem to be on the line although the call indicates two minutes past.

choso continues to sip on his milkshake and he looks just as confused as you are.

"where r'you–" you don't need to ask her if she's drunk or not, you can hear it through the slurring of her words. you don't answer her question though, you know it will cause more damage than anything to say you'd preferred to leave the party to go sip on some milkshake with a man you're supposed to despise more than anything.

after five minutes of negotiation, you finally find out what shoko wanted - simple curiosity as to where you were, but also a call for help with the disappearance of choso, who was supposedly trapped in the toilet, according to yuki. you promptly hang up and finish your milkshake in a one go.

"she's in trouble?" choso gauges your reaction and imitates you, putting away his own things as he puts his jacket on.

"she's about to be if we don't come pick her up now." you place you purse back on your shoulder as you draw enough of cash to cover the bill and tip, "c'mon, let's go."

choso wasn't so wrong in the end, since you both arrived in time to prevent a tragedy from happening, one more on the list that shoko may not remember - despite the scale of it. you and choso agreed to take back your possessions – in this case yuki and shoko, who seemed to be standing on their own two feet only by some celestial force.

no need to to depict the end of the night, it was always the same when you went out with shoko. though something – or rather someone – during evening had told you it wasn't going to be the same ; that your tranquility was long gone, that you had now committed, whether you'd like it or not apparently, to be a fucking babysitter.

and he was fast with it, he didn't wait a week or so, he didn't even try to make it natural. the day after the party, choso went straight to talk to you, and the boy didn't even care if you were with your group of friends, the same that vehemently talked shit behind his back.

he didn't even try to wipe that smile off of his face, nor to calm the rosy tint on his cheeks that left little room for other interpretations. he didn't even try to cover for you when he gave you change for the milkshake you'd paid for – and God he didn't seem to understand that if you'd paid him it didn't mean you particularly wanted to give him the impression he owed you anything in return.

he also didn't notice that you didn't appreciate his refund, that you would have preferred to send him off, but that under the pressure from satoru and shoko, who were only viciously agreeable to him, you had to accept his exchange with a big smile.

you really didn't know whether his behavior was of the order of undisputed innocence or whether it was a means of publicly humiliating you.

in any case, the incident didn't go away, not with satoru and shoko around the corner, who were both just explaining the situation to suguru in the middle of lunch in the refectory.

"she left yuki and i alone with a bunch of freaks," shoko declares through the clattering sounds of the cantine while pointing her fork on you as she explains the evening, once again.

"you didn't seem to mind when i pulled you away from one that you were trying to dissect open with a knife." you insist, once again.

you stir the fuming food and distribute it homogeneously over your plate to let it cool down, ignoring shoko's words as she continues the story.

"it's kinda funny that you spent the evening with a guy who's a carbon copy of the type you say you hate." suguru intervenes and you sigh at the snarky remark. satoru keeps chewing on his food carelessly, clearly enjoying the roast you're subject to.

you shake your head at the statement, "spending an evening with someone and actually enjoying the time spent is different."

"mhm, clearly if i hadn't called you you'd still be making out with him right now.." shoko mocks and you swear you can see satoru's lips twitch in amusement.

"we just talked !" you half whisper, half scream, letting your food drop into your plate, causing your friends to shush you.

"c'mon just say you like him, we'll still be friends y'know?" you look deadpan at satoru, a look that doesn't require any words.

"i mean everyone knew he had a crush on you in high school, it wouldn't be surprising if it was still the case." suguru shrugs, you don't know if if he's being honest this time or if it's another joke. you choose to believe the latter.

you shake your head and look around the cantine to ease your mind from your shit friends, which doesn't seem to be the thing to do as satoru adds another weight to your already heavy shoulders.

"what? looking for your new pet? homeboy is probably hiddin' in his room right now. i mean, when doesn't he?"

you breathe out tensely, butchering your food with your cutlery as you clearly picture some detailed ways you'd like to treat the man in front of you.

"fucking assholes.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

after what happened during the last couple of days you really tried taking measures. good measures. and it was kind of ironic how choso should've been the type to try and dodge any interaction with your friends, but now you were the one trying to sneak past him.

he was nice. you'll give him that.

but he was stupid. so fucking careless. and really naive because he surely did think an evening sipping on milkshake meant something along the lines of "will you marry me?"

anytime he spotted you in between classes he just had to walk in your direction. whether it was just small talk or not, he talked to you every. single. time.

but he was so nice. you couldn't just shove it in his face? could you? despite shoko's encouragement to drop him there's something that just.. didn't feel right. and may God forgive you, but you know this is certainly not the advent of your good morals.

though all of that clingy attitude really pissed you off, you did find yourself thinking about that evening and how Elvis Presley was so annoyingly being repeated in the background. how his eyes, despite their darkness and exhausted features, never ceased to display the most authentically pure emotions you've ever seen.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me."

you sigh, heavily. some conflicted parts of you wanted to know more, an evening wasn't enough to just send him off right away, right? who was he? who does he claim to be? and the fact that you don't remember him, no, you can't remember him doesn't help either to your curiosity. because you did search through your yearbooks and to see his face didn't help you bring back lost memories.

shit maybe you just need someone to ring some senses to you but you also don't want shoko nor satoru to do it, as much as you hate to think about it they'll taint your vision more than they'll clear it out. in some ways choso was right ; their judgment might have their part to play in the way you think. in some ways only.

or maybe you're trying to blame your friends for your shitty behavior which only makes you feel ten times worse. you let out a grunt as you get up from your chair, going to the library to study with a clouded mind wasn't a good idea and even more at the end of the day.

failing to have a cigarette you can borrow from shoko right now, you choose to take a walk around campus. it's not the best sight but the air is far more fresh outside.

oh and how ironic was it when your feet led you upstairs to the dorms. it's not like you even planned your itinerary, it was like second nature to you, plus the air definitively felt a lot more breathable.

out of all the rumors you've heard, you knew at least one was true : choso was an orphan ; he stayed in the dorms right above the college structure.

and how absurd that was when you feet planted right outside his doorway – you can say thank you to the floor tenant files that didn't seem to care about the resident's personal information.

the thing missing though is your speech. you didn't have anything in mind. fuck what are you thinking? you're not even sure you'd want to see him at all, despite your evident location. before you could produce another stupid thought your fist met the door to knock twice.

it was about six seconds of wait that felt like half a minute as you just stood there outside. the door opened slightly ajar, and it reminded you of the first time – well not counting high school – that you saw him.

long strands of black hair dangled in front of the doorway before he stepped closer to fill the gap with his width. of course his eyes widened. they always do when they meet yours.

"oh, hey," he quickly looked over his shoulder, behind him and lowered his eyes to take a look at himself.

it was an agreeable sight, you will not deny. his hair were hanging loose at shoulder length, wearing only an oversized white t-shirt (was it oversized or just his actual stature ?) and gray sweatpants. you almost felt like diverting your eyes away as if you were prying on something you shouldn't see.

"hey."

silence.

"are you okay?" he stays still, swiping his tongue inside his lower lip while playing with his ring piercing you presume ; a habit of his you've noticed. you don’t really know if he's asking to be polite or if you genuinely look like you need help.

"mhm," you nod, "can i come in?"

"uhh, yeah" he takes another look behind him and you're starting to think maybe you came at the wrong time. "yeah, of course." he opens the door wider and steps aside, you enter and to your relief nothing crazy's going on.

the room is neatly organized to your surprise, not that you were imagining a slum, but you were expecting something more akin to the prototype of the homebody student. you avoid looking too much everywhere, you didn't come for that anyway.

choso retreats to his desk where he leans against it, his hands on the length of the edge to support his body.

"looks serious eh?" he escapes a small laugh, almost a scoff actually as he scratches his forearm and you suddenly want to leave the room because of how miserable you feel.

"we have to stop this.. thing here." you point to him then yourself.

you almost feel bad for him. almost, because of the way his hand previously on his other arm stops in the previous scratching motion, because of the way he only stares at you for a few solid seconds.

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean," you sigh "i don't even know why you suddenly want to talk to me anyway," you shake your head and look down. it's not even something you're blaming him for, you're really wondering why he'd want to talk to someone who plays on both sides with him.

"it's not.. that sudden. i've always wanted to talk to you." he tells you softly, "have i done something wrong?"

he's too nice with you it makes you audibly grunt.

"do you have a crush on me or something?"

silence again. a longer one this time. you didn't really mean to blurt it out like that, you'd envisioned something a little more subtle but frustration got the best of you.

his body shifts, his hands move closer to his body and he crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his biceps with his finger repeatedly. he stays silent.

"it's a yes or no question choso."

he pinches the bridge of his nose just where his mark is and breathes out a small "fuck".

"alright. it's ok if you don't wanna use your words, you certainly don't fail showing it to the whole fucking world anyway."

he takes a step forward rapidly, a single step but big enough to be closer to you nonetheless.

"i'm sorry, shit, i didn't know it would make you so upset. i'm sorry." he apologies. and you don't know if he realizes how upset he looks in the situation, he runs a hand through his hair in distress and you can see how agitated he is.

his face is right above yours, you don't really have to do anything but to look up to meet his panicked eyes. and it's a complete contrast how your eyebrows almost hurt from the frown while his face is contorted in worry.

and you'll blame your beating heart on your irritation and building up anger and definitely not because of his sole proximity. you try to commit to that thought at least.

"you're insufferable you know that?" you hug yourself as you readjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looks away for a flitting second before bringing his eyes back on you, or your lips ; he's very indecisive poor boy doesn't know where to look when he has you this close to him.

"i.. i didn't know know how to tell you i'm sorry i just–"

"oh shut up,"

you practically throw yourself on him as it's the only way he'll eventually stop apologizing, one of your hands quickly wrap around his neck, to the base of his nape pulling him closer as your lips crash onto his. choso stumbles back at the contact and his hands reach instinctively on your waist for support, his body hits the desk where he stood prior and he escapes the faintest gasp at the harsh contact.

you wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this – fuck if shoko would come to know about this she'd probably laugh at you. but he's so gentle in his every moves, his every words, so naive about your motives it would be a damn shame if he knew what kind of crap person you really are. if the two of you really had to stop talking like you stated, your only wish would be to at least do this before.

choso's fingers grip more tightly on your waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt practically playing with the hem of it. he pulls you closer and parts his lips to kiss you back avidly while your nails dig deeper around his nape at the feeling, before sliding them back along his jaw to orient his head at a better angle. you feel him exhale through his nose as you slow down your pace, slowly detaching your lips from his.

"y'taste good." he whispers against your lips, his forehead is practically touching yours and it's only now that you realize how much his features have changed within seconds. his eyes are blazed, breathless and fingers shaky around your waist. you'll blame the taste of your lips of the cherry gloss you're wearing – and he's wearing too now that his lips are shiny from it.

you're no better though, you swallow as you catch your breath, your heart is pounding in your chest so much you also hear it through the buzzing of your ears, coating the sounds around you.

"yeah? what is it, never kissed before?" you smile, you'll never get tired of teasing him, not when he always gives you the same look.

"not like that," he pants and smile back at you, a little smile that soon turns into a frown, "i.. shit, i wanna make you feel good. can i?" his voice is so low it makes your head spin.

"then do it," you kiss him once slowly and you feel him shudder at the new sensation, "make me feel good." you kiss him twice, even slower this time.

no need to say it twice for choso, if it's not you latching on him right now he definitely doesn't feel like backing down, he takes your answer for words and his hands find your cheeks instantly, cupping them as he puts a lot more pressure, making you step back. your hands lower down on his shoulders and your purse slip down your arm until it reaches the ground harshly ; not your priority number one right now.

he presses his body even closer to you and you don't need an explanatory drawing of what's happening down his pants as you feel his hard on pressed against you. you put your thigh forward, adding your own pressure against him and the moan that escapes his lips is enough to make your skin shiver and your panties tighter. much tighter.

still glued to each other, he guides you to his bed, just behind and it takes a couple steps back for your calves to hit the furniture, your body drops down the bed as you look up at him and you think he's about to slouch his own body on you, but he kneels down right before you instead.

you put your hands on the bed behind you to push yourself farther against the wall but to your – second – surprise he puts his hands flat on your knees.

"i need you right here," he soothes as he taps your knee lightly, making you stop in your movements. you don't know if he's about to do what you think he's about to do but your questions get quickly answered.

"can i?" he asks as he flicks his eyes onto your skirt, asking permission to touch it you guess. you nod eagerly and he leans back slightly to take your mary janes off instead, right foot, then to the left foot so ever carefully and putting them aside on the floor. you watch him and notice how steady and focused he looks despite his torso heaving up and down rapidly, you see it.

he straighten up on his knees and the sight has you gulping down, you're on his bed, he's on the ground just right in front of you, his eyes scan your face thoroughly you almost feel overwhelmed by it. your skirt gets pulled down easily, oh but so slowly, you prop yourself up on your elbows to make it easier for him.

"so pretty." he breathes out, he discards the piece of clothing on the floor and places both of his hands on your hips to bring your body closer to him as he easily glides you.

he leans in and his face is only inches away from your crotch, he glances at you before returning back on your clothed cunt. his thumb circles the hem of your panties as if he's admiring the sewing method and your breath hitches when his thumb drops a little lower, down where you clit hides beneath the fabrics.

"don't have all day, choso" you gulped, your hands bawl into tight fists in apprehension.

"okay–okay." he coos and immediately grant your wish ; he pulls your panties down and you're now bottom naked on his bed. it gives you a real reason to be embarrassed for sure because you didn't really "plan" on being that drenched from a single quick make out session. and the more he stares at your exposed cunt the more you grow impatient.

"choso.." you try to warn him but it comes out as a whine instead. he shifts as he gets closer to the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands under your legs to grab onto your thighs firmly.

"gonna make you feel good ok?"

"jus' do it–" you choke on your own words when you feel his tongue on you. a single lap and you're already panting in the room like a mad woman, "ffuck." you whine and your hand reaches immediately down to get a hold of something – his hair in this case which is being in his vision doesn't stop him nonetheless to complete his mission – as it's the only way you'd call it due to how devoted he looks between your legs.

he gives you a few more laps, down from your entrance to the very top on your clit, and he's diverse in his moves you'll give him that – he goes either way from the right side, then the left side, until he decides to flick his tongue against your pussy from side to side this time. you'd honestly thought the man would go down on you as his first time, his first experiment but it looks like you're the one experimenting for the first time his tongue skills – that, you don't miss to point out.

"shit- where the fuck did you learn to do that?" you pant, you push his hair back the best you can though it still falls atop of your pussy, giving you extra tingles on the way.

the sounds are purely gross, the room is nothing but a space for filth, hearing liquids collides whether it'd be his saliva on you or your slick on him. doesn't help from your restrained moans nor from his own whimpers that resonate lowly against your skin – it's almost as if he's being louder than you are.

he props your legs up onto his own shoulders when he leans down further into your pussy, getting better access while your thighs are in the air, tensing and quivering at each touch.

you start to seriously lose it when you feel pressure on your clit, getting even more stimulated your head starts to feel dizzy ; his thumb brushes against your folds to gather your juices before going up to your clit while his tongue starts to push down your entrance.

he mumbles something but you can't understand either from the pounding in your ears or because he factually has his mouth buried in your cunt.

"you feel so– fuck!" you almost cry out when he accelerates the pace on your clit "so fuckin' good shit," and before you get hold of the situation your muscles contract, your thighs wraps even tighter around choso and you're not really in the mindset to care if you're hurting him right now when you're nothing more than a trembling mess under him.

when you release the grip you have around his head with your legs, he slowly backs down and wipes under his chin with the back of his hand, breathing heavily as if he had just come flooding back from the water after a long dive. the sight has your brain rebooting from the start, simply short circuited.

"t'was okay?"

you almost feel indignation for his own self when you look at him in disbelief, "okay? thought i was losing my mind over there," you slowly sit up as you look at him with heavy lids. you probably look like you got run over.

"want me to get something to–"

he stops once he sees you getting your top over your shoulders, taking it off and throwing on the chair near his desk. you get closer to the edge of the bed, still sit up on it as you cage him between your legs since he's still kneeling on the ground.

"well.. i guess you have other plans..?" he murmurs under his breath, he doesn't even try to hide the fact he's staring, the man is practically glued to you like when kids stand too close to a tv.

"you're a perceptive one aren't you?" you leaned down to slip your fingers under his shirt, near his hips to take it off too, "unless you don't want to?" you whisper, stopping your movements to get his approval before starting anything but oh don't you dare take your hands off of him because he'll put them back on their original place.

"no–no, i do. i want you." his eyes meets yours and it's as if repentance was just knocking at your door and you don't know if you're willing to open the door because of how good he ate your pussy or because you really feel like you should do it.

"good."

you knew choso was introverted, a little shy even, the kind of men to be a little prudish even, the ones who'd rather stay indoors, the ones who's rather not get touched by anybody, even less when those places are under their clothes. you thought he was that kind of man when you'd first met him.

you got fooled. once when he mastered the technique of his tongue on you a few minutes ago that got your jaw dislocating in pleasure. but twice now that his shirt is past his torso, up to get through his head and you see yet another pair of silver jewelry. one on each of his nipples.

and your reaction is suited honestly, you just drop your arms and leave him struggling with the shirt on his own as his head is still tangled inside of it, you swear under your breath as you look at the two shiny buds. and maybe he did it as a distraction, getting two silvery eyes up his breast might be one hell of a surprise when you're trying to look at his whole torso ; but even in that case you wouldn't get why on earth you'd need to be distracted from his upper body, because what a fucking view.

once you see choso's head pop out of his t-shirt you're so turned on you're scared if you move you'll just leave the biggest pond of your slick on his covers ; you're feeling genuinely embarrassed to say the least.

"come here, get on your back." you tap on your left to show him the way on his own bed, he executes your demand without much more convincing. he lays down where his pillow rest, propping his head up a little as he still supports his body on his forearms, watching you.

which is not such a bad thing as it gets his whole upper body tensing up from the position, and you realize you got fooled thrice because of how defined his body is, muscles tracing his skin in the prettiest way.

you crawl closer to him and take his sweatpants off, throwing them along with the other remaining of clothes on the ground.

you straddle choso, only in his boxers now and he's always on the lookout for your next move, eyes traveling along every part of your body standing so close to him. you lean in to kiss him again, a simple kiss this time, not heated, nor passionate as you'd intended earlier, almost too intimate to your liking. you feel him relax under you, no, melt. he melts under your kiss, his back rests totally flat on his bed now and his hands travel along you jaw, touching you like porcelain if it were to break.

"it's only fair i return the favor, right?" you tell him as you lean near his ear, and if you chose to ignore the bulge in his underwear when you got him out off his pants you're certain you can't now. it's entirely poking through the fabrics to lean oh so perfectly against your entrance you have to fight back a moan just at the feeling. how embarrassing.

"fuck, please do." he moans, his hands get back on your hips slowly, pressing his fingers into your skin lightly. though you'd rather take some of your time, if you're in this might as well do it right.

you kiss your way down his body, from his lips, to his jaw, on his neck a few times — just because you love watching his adam's apple bobble up every time he gulps when you touch him — near his collarbones, on his torso and why not on the twins piercings he's got on it too.

at the contact of your tongue swirling around his nipples choso instantly throws his head back on his pillow, earning a deep breath from him along with a "fuckk" he couldn't bite back. at the same time your hips start to grind, slowly, cautiously, you wouldn't want to get off on his boxers now would you?

your hands reach down his boxers, under it to grab his dick but... maybe you got fooled fourth time. or maybe the saying is right, the quietest got the biggest and he's a living proof of the statement, you can attest. you break the contact on his sensitive buds and sit up correctly to look at it lay flat on his stomach, curved and strained in its own blood flow. you really have to close your mouth to not drool on it directly and you mumble something unintelligible.

his hands rest on your thighs, they try to guide you forward, they really do and you let them. you bring your hips forward, pussy gliding – as it's the only way it would be described, you're soaked – on his dick, just slipping through your wet folds, enough to mold him on the way forward, then all the way back when you return to your position. you let your hands fall on his abs, you're not even tired, you just need the support right now or else you're afraid you'll just collapse right onto him.

"God, you feel so good," you whine, grinding slowly along his cock and you honestly don't know how he's handling it down there 'cause it feels too fucking good for you.

"n-need you right now," he painfully gulps, he looks at the friction with a frown and he lowers his head back on the pillow, "shit..." he whimpers, such a wobbly voice yet he's not even inside of you thus far. you don't know who's winning the embarrassing contest but he might win over you if you keep giving him good pussy.

"so sweet. you're too fuckin' sweet y'know that?" you praise and choso's hands come directly to grab at your tits, cupping the roundness of them with both hands as he massages them slowly, pinching your nipple between his index and his thumb.

you're done with being patient actually as it is your cue to wrap your fingers around the head of his cock. you brush your thumb over his tip and his whole body jerks off from the touch, you slide your whole hand down the base of it as you pull yourself up on your knees.

you thought you'd reached the epitome of pleasure when he was between your legs just now, and you don't know what other seventh heaven you landed on when he entered you, but it was just as similar.

the head of his cock has just slipped through and you're already full of it, full of him. and you have no doubt when you look at choso that he's feeling it too. you both moan at the new feeling, a feeling you were too puerile to treat with such disdain when you looked at him, a feeling you'd never come to know if he didn't slightly hurt your ego with his kindness.

"holy shit, so fucking tight f'me.." he purrs through the whole process, his hands help you go down, steadily and slowly at your pace when more than half of his cock has sunk into you. your legs shake slightly when you've reached the end, you start to bounce up and down lazily, hearing every gushing sounds of both of your slick as they disperse through your organs.

he can't help it, you don't know if it's because you've teased him so much pior that he can't hold it in anymore, but the grip on your hips gets tighter, the bouncing up and down his cock gets messier, and even though your thighs start to feel numb you soon understand that choso has your back. his hips starts to buck back into you to meet your hips halfway, skin to skin as they collide rapidly.

"f–fuck, choso, you're gonna make m–"

"i know, i know." he soothes, you lean into him, chest to chest as you put your hands on his shoulders. and you can't help but be extremely grateful right now as you're practically laying down on him, he's fucking right into you with the help of his hands pressing down your hips as he moans in your ears softly.

"wanna make this pretty pussy mine– fuck. wanna make you mine." he whimpers and you can hear the way his throat tightens that he's close. you wouldn't wanna lie saying you're not – to be honest you've been wanting to come as soon as you hoped on his thighs.

you don't know if it's the heat of the moment, because you're taking his dick so fucking perfectly inside of you that the thought of being with him doesn't really repulse you that much, for it actually seems pleasant enough to imagine it.

"fuck–fuck-i'm gonna cum!"

and you sincerely hope nobody is in their dorms right now because you're sure the whole floor knows what their nerdy resident is doing to some resentful student on campus. he's so vocal you wouldn't have it any other way, specially when every each one of his moans reach your cunt before your ears.

you feel your legs tremble and your nails dig deeper into his skin when you reach your second orgasm, and not one for the weak ones as your pussy clenches so tightly you think you're sucking choso's dick whole with the suction. your hips get pulled up on spot when choso releases his own shot in between your bodies, his dick springing out from where it was caged. you still tremble on him when he breathes heavily, coming down to his high.

you both stay silent for a couple of seconds and reality hits you back.

"you're too good to me." he murmurs as he wipes some of the mascara under your eyes with his thumb, you head is still near the crook of his neck, you don't move.

oh only if he knew.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"can you believe nerdy boy got laid?"

you turn to shoko almost too rapidly, "what?"

"i know, who would do that.."

you don't say anything. you don't really wanna say anything for now, but you know shoko isn't saying that just to make the conversation when she waits for an answer. a valid one.

©nabitsun !

thank you for reading :D

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk choso #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #choso oneshot #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso smut #choso x female reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #finished this at 5 but it was worth it #i love this #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu choso

[loganshouseofworship]

Pink tulips a symbol of friendship — Logan Sargent x platonic!reader

Tagged — @amatswimming @bblouifford @disneyprincemuke @faithshouseofchaos @faithsotherhouseofchaos

Logan knew that you were having a tough week and as one of your longest-standing friends, he took it upon himself to make you feel better. On the way to your apartment, Logan stopped by the store and picked up some of your favorite snacks, ice cream, and drinks and continued with his mission.

Halfway through his journey to your apartment, he made one stop it wasn’t planned but he saw the florist stand from the corner of his eye and thought fuck it.

Looking at the selection of flowers his eyes saw a pretty Bouquet of pink tulips. Logan remembered you saying that tulips were a symbol of friendship.

“I would like these,” Logan said, picking out the pink tulips and handing the florist the money.

“Great choice,” the florist said. And with that Logan was back on track.

Once at your place, Logan knocked firmly on your apartment door. Hearing your footsteps making their way down the stairs, he grew a smile and waited. Once the door opened he extended both hands with the bouquet in one and the takeout bag in the other.

“Hey, you.”

He smirked softly seeing you, hoping that maybe this would cheer you up at least a bit.

“Hi.” You said letting Logan in your apartment

"I brought you flowers," Logan said smiling

"for what?" You asked confused

"There has to be a reason?" Logan questioned.

“You didn't have to do this.” You said taking the flowers from him to admire them.

“I know I didn’t but I wanted to.” Logan replied, handing over the shopping bag “I also brought you some of your favorite food and drinks, and also grabbed an ice cream for myself.”

He had grabbed enough to feed both of you, he figured that after what you’ve been through, you didn’t deserve to eat alone.

“I figured a fun night would help, maybe watching a funny movie.” He said smiling, waiting for you to step aside so he could come in.

“The tulips were specially for you.” He laughed “I mean I don’t know who else these are for.” He chuckled again, “Besides I figured, I could just use them as an excuse to see you.” His smirk grew to a grin “Plus I figured you probably need some cheering up, I know I’ve been a while so no hard feelings if you tell me to leave.”

“No, of course not.” You replied, your face growing a warm smile at how thoughtful your best friend was.

“You’re truly something,” you said hugging him tightly

“I’ll grab some plates and stuff.” Logan replied, breaking the hug as he took it as a sign to start getting everything ready. “You just go ahead and sit down.”

He gave you a gentle push toward the table, you did as asked and then sat down.

Logan went over to the kitchen area, placing the plates and napkins on the table as he started setting up all the food. It looked quite extravagant, especially for just the two of you.

Once everything was done, he poured two glasses of the wine he had bought, before he sat down opposite you.

“To friends.” He looked at you as he brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. “To better days.”

The two of you had a wonderful night, a night that was full of laughter and banter. It had even helped lift the depressing mood you’d been in. A smile had been permanent on your face ever since the moment Logan walked through the door, with his thoughtful gifts. He truly was a good friend.

#logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargent #logan sargent x reader #logan sargent fluff #williams racing #formula 1 #formula one #he’s so pookie #williams formula 1 #williams f1 #formula one oneshot #formula one fluff #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 x gn!reader #f1 x female driver #f1 x female oc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fic #classic f1

[lenixsocial]

Watcher (and why nothing matters anymore):

So, in case you've been locked away under a proverbial bridge for a few days, Internet personalities Steven Lim, Ryan Bergara, and Shane Madej (known as Watcher) have elected to begin their own streaming service and ditch YouTube.

On the surface, that mightn't even seem like news at all.

After all, this sort of thing seems to happen all the time: The Try Guys left Buzzfeed to create their own company, Rhett and Link took the dive and diversified into paywalled entertainment a few years back with Mythical Society. Both of which however still rely on YouTube itself to generate views on the main channels, which funnel viewers into a FOMO type situation where "you can't miss" a special airing on the app (Mythical Society) or Patreon (Try Guys).

Watcher, in its infinite wisdom (stupidity, carelessness, unparalleled greed - take your pick) has decided that YouTube is pointless, and has moved ALL their content behind a paywall, claiming that the service was amping up to provide "TV quality programming", leaving only old content and the first episodes of the new shows up on their YouTube page as a subtle tease as to what you could get for $6/month.

It's now quite apparent from reading the comments section of their (now infamous) YouTube video, their official subreddit, and the tag on X that the fans were...not thrilled. The fingers began to be pointed within minutes. Name calling soon after. Then this blossomed into dissertations on why this was a horrible idea.

Then we found out that there was no app. Just a website. So you're paying for website access. Not a full blown streaming service to rival Netflix. Oh, and they don't even have their own servers, the videos are hosted by Vimeo. The deeper the comments section dug, the nastier the attacks got. Steven soon became the whipping boy. His past, his interviews, scanned and mercurially dug up for juicy tidbits (although all anyone gleaned from these was he's rich, was born rich, drives a Tesla in LA, likes fancy food, and has friends whom he values who are racist and possibly sexist and will not sever ties with them).

Then came the cries of incongruity. Shane Madej repeatedly said to "Eat the Rich", and here he was schilling for a platform that cost $6 a month. The cries began to pirate all of the new Watcher content because maybe he was under duress and was secretly telling them to do so. Fact is, I don't know if he was or what, but I'm certain he's under contract and wants his job.

Then came the videos from other internet users analyzing the video, and comparing this to the Try Guys situation with Ned a few months back. Both are disasters, each in unique ways with different players, and such like but here's the vast difference: none of this will even matter in a month.

Let me explain: We are in the total free fall stage of Watcher's Internet Streamer Service. What they do in the next 24-48 hours is crucial. If they revert back to their YouTube channel and apologize, they'll be fine. People will probably poke fun at them, but they'll be forgiven, eventually. But if they don't and they keep on, ignoring the fans, dousing the haters, and make it a month, I doubt we will see any resistance outside of a terse article or two.

Why? The collective memory span in this day and age is extremely short, many have likely already made judgment in their head and have passed said judgment. Therefore, they'll avoid the channel, and the streamer and will be blissfully unaware of any changes. Those who have joined up and paid will remain members, and those who have elected to remain subscribed will likely remain so and will watch the free content until they can afford the $6/month.

The thing is like it or hate it, if they decide to do nothing and ignore the public at large, they most likely will be fine. Maybe they will not have the hugest subscriber base, but people will forget about this. Something else major that is more salacious will spring up in the months ahead. Will there be lingering anger? Sure, but like I said before, these people have already passed judgment so they're already gone.

In an era of "nothing fucking matters" when your choices are sometimes entirely out of your direct control and are (at best) two sides of the same coin, it should be of absolutely no surprise to anyone that there is a fairly good possibility even after all that has transpired that nothing bad will happen. Lest we forget that old adage: "there is no such thing as bad PR".

Personally, I feel $6 is a tad much for a non-app based web streamer with little to no content. It was disingenuous to announce its launch internationally where even more people can't afford it, and some can't even view it. Steven wasn't upfront with who was in charge and now it really does seem like he's using the subscriptions to fund his international gallivanting. It's clear nobody wanted TV-show quality Ghost Files to take place in another country, nor did they want an old show revived with votes when you pay the first month's dues. They say it's a case of Watcher "not reading the room".

#watcher #watcherfiasco #opinion

[jazzyblusnowflake]

OMG hi…I really like your art and was wondering if you wanna be mutuals??????????? Also tell me about your MD ships :3c

honey we are dating- .....okay yknow what- HI PRETTY & TALENTED LADY- yess i will absolutely love toooo 🙈💕💕💕💕💕

also lets see uhhh okay this is an excuse for me to just... expload-

keep in mind not every ship is meant for all of you so dont badger me about stuff that ISNT CANON or YOU DONT SHIP. contrary to whatever you believe, when somone posts about THEIR ships, nobody wants to hear about you NOT shipping it on THAT EXACT post.

hang in there, this gon be a long one >:p

First off we are starting strong with Nuzi- Biscuitbites obviously thats a given- these two just have too much to be said about why and how they make eachother the best version of eachother, whether they ever became canon or not- they fit like puzzle pieces- they lessen eachothers negative traits by being their for eachother.

next is Vuzi- Violentviolet, they are my favorite kind of enemies to lovers 😔 but its also tragic smh. kinda pissed off at how V always does something good in Uzis favor only when she is LITERALLY PASSED OUT- either in the camp ep on the bus or in Alices lab. like damn ofFUCKINGcourse Uzi wouldnt know she cares about her 😭😭😭

envuzi- Violentbitingbiscuits, i love these goobers with all my heart- they deserve the best 😔💕💕💕💕

envy - [does this poor ship just NOT have an exclusive FINDABLE tag name??? im calling them GoldenMemories...], i like to think that if they were in the manor still, and nothing bad had ever happened, these two would be comforting eachother in the healthiest way possible. V needs someone like N and N is just adorable like that uwu

Next we have JxTessa/Jessa- [calling them Fancyblades cuz why not-] J deserves some closure for the shit shes gone through smhhh 😔, its a tragic yuri of J loving and wanting something she probably already accepted she couldnt have, and even then she gotta deal with Ns ass being the favorite one regardless of how hard she tries to be perfect... sighhh i wanna imagine them in a future where Tessa was spared as the only human and J could save her 😭😭😭😭 Tessa might have loved doing mechanical stuff or wore black to hide grease/oil stains on her clothes from her parents and wore gloves to hide her oily stained hands- i want her to have a scene of wiring drones back to life and saving them and saying something like "hey there, you made it! dont worry, ill take care of you, youre my friend now :3" or something //dies//, also before anyone says it- even if Tessa was a teen in the flashbacks- romance is not exclusive to ADULTS, teens can love eachother without having sexual stuff involved. no she was not their MOTHER figure, she was their FRIEND who liked to fix robots for herself to not be alone in a house where her own parents literally chain her up as punishment. i dont even know why im arguing about this, people headcanon or make aus about characters NOT being dead all the time and if Tessa was alive for as long as J thought she was, Tessa would have been a perfectly fine adult either way. so counting this, yes shes canonically considered an adult when Cyn tries to imitate an adult humans body 🙄 makes as much sense as everything else i guess-

next ones i got is NorixYeva/Neva- Solverlilies- i just think theyre neat 😭😭😭 and once again, like everything else in this franchise- they are tragic yuris 😔 damn liam im finding a pattern over here 🤨 anyway, i like to think they either got closer in the lab experimentations or were already close when they were working as WDs in the campsite area for the humans. obviously canonically they were probably straight or just not into eachother romantically- [Nori either u have the worst taste men or Khan just fucking lost it after you died-] but also on the other handddd.... they have 2 hands and they are robots, i want them to kiss like two barbie dolls and im gonna make them do just that-

DollxLizzy/Dizzy- Bloodypink, wost fucking ship names ever, i cant find shit on them with these tags and it makes me angry >:/ at this point 2/3s of my ships are just tragic yuris smh, Doll did not deserve any of the things handed to her, even if she went about doing some things the wrong way i wish Lizzy didnt just abandon her- but then again, Doll did kinda abuse Lizzys trust and Lizzy got scared of being close to a serial murderer so.... morality calls this a draw? 😭 im crying... i wish someone was there to help Doll... sigh... i like to think Lizzy would have waited for Doll to just come back at some point... oh well, thats why AUs exist :"3 //sobs in the corner//

DollxUzi/Dollzi- Bloodybats, this ship is so underrated to me... they could have been... so much more. but why weren't they? did Yeva abandon ever getting close to Uzi when she was a kid after Nori died? did Uzi and Doll just never play around together as kids when their mothers were so close? were they ever close and something went wrong as they grew older? at worst they could have been like sisters together, and at best maybe more than friends. i just dont know what happened here, like Yeva could have tried to keep an eye on Uzi, maybe Uzi could have found Dolls powers so cool before having them too- i dont know theres literally tons of possibilities- but if Doll deserved to be saved or cared for by anyone, at least one of them should have been Uzi... sigh.

ThadxV- Killingblonde, yall this is... the cutest shit... ever???? like from here on out we kinda go into the more or less crackship territory but these two are adorable- Dumbass yet wholesome jock boy that just wants to keep his queen happy 😔👌👌👌 He and Uzi would have so much to talk about on "crushing on literal murder bots that stabbed and almost ate us" its literally love at first stab smhhh 😫💕

ThadxSam- Smokyjock ???? for some fucking reason??? i dont know what my brain did here man- i just like the trope of someone getting under Thads skin- like pair up the healthy sports loving gym boy with the lazy but wholesome dumbass that does drugs or is always just sleep deprived and Thad is always trying to just... take care of his ass and make him take care of himself but he just WONT SMHHH-

okay some more or less crack ships down here:

ThadxN: it speaks for itself. its too adorable and youll go blind from the light of wholesomeness-

ThadxNxUzi: Uzi will die here from the overwhelming wholesomeness... oh bonus if its just a 4s polycule of ThadxNxUzixV i mean i know im pushing my luck but.... random crackships go brr- V and Uzi will complain but love their dumbass golden puppy partners-

ThadxUzi: i think they could have been close and Thad caring about her as a childhood friend turned crush sounds just too cute for me 😔

LizzyxUzi: another random ass rivals to lovers or some shit idk what this is, Lizzy would pay Uzi to kiss the fuck out of her i dont make the rules-

ThadxLizzy: in some cases where they are NOT headcanoned as siblings or cousins, i think they have a good energy of wholesome jock bf and girly queen cheerleader lol, Thad is just a good bf eitherway-

DollxUzixLizzy: the gals would not leave a single second of silence for the small gremlin i swear to God- [Uzi is gay as FUCK for her gfs, absolute girloser unit with her gorgeous but crazy gfs]

okay for the end i have some characters that arent ships but i wish they could have become closer as friends or work out their issues...

J and N- too much abuse and toxicity here, i wish they could talk together more and see they have a lot of things in common- maybe a full line of dialogue from J without threatning N in every sense of the manner would be nice for a change =_=

Doll and V- again, a bit morally ambiguous to ship a character with the murderer of your family, esp when said murderer hasnt expressed regret lmao, but i wish they could at least be friends... Dolls disdain for the murder drones pushed her to end up the way she did. maybe if she didnt do it alone she would have been alive by now. so i like to think what would have happened if she and V could have made up- not necessarily Doll forgiving her- but at least having the space to grow and understand why they did they things that happened.

Cyn and literally ANYONE- i want the solver to be SEPARATE from Cyn- i wish Cyn would have still existed somewhere down there and was savable- i wish this poor child AI had a happy ending to her by connecting with the others as ACTUAL siblings... goddamnit 😔

aaaand thats it for this fine ass day 🫡 yall are welcome to ask about any of these- boy the tags are gonna be.... a lot.

#snowballflo #snow rambles #murder drones #uzi doorman #tessa james elliot #nuzi #biscuitbites #vuzi #violetviolence #envuzi #violentbitingbiscuits #jessa #j x tessa #envy murder drones #envy #n x v #solverlilies #bloodypink #dollzi #bloodybats #dizzy murder drones #killingblonde

[lizzieisright]

AUUH okay I know it’s tuff and all for the writing so I wouldn’t expect this to be done automatically it’s just whenever you get the chance😭🙏 bratty omega Abby? i could just see her being a brat badly and reader puts her in her place

I've also got a req for the heat/rut sync and Abby's moodiness fits in perfectly. She is such a brat once she knows she can rile you up I love her.

female alpha!reader x omega!abby

Palestine: what can you do

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, heat/rut sync, rough sex, pregnancy scare, brat!Abby.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It's not common for heats and ruts to sync - so you two for some stupid reason don't check your tracking apps to see when you're due. 

You know Abby's heat is coming up because she is moody: she is grumpy and frustrated and gets irritated if you don't understand her puzzling demands. It doesn't upset you - you let her have her space and be as moody as she wants. 

For some reason, it only makes her more moody. Abby is frowning as she watches you fold your laundry.

“You're doing it wrong.” She complains and you chuckle. 

“Do you want to do it?”

“No, I want you to do it right. Slacks belong on a rack. You folded them and you'll look like an embarrassing fool when you put them on.”

You chuckle, but it's not a good chuckle: you can't help but to feel challenged by your own omega. Abby starts to notice how your presence pressures her into submission, but she just gets more irritated with you. 

“Anything else?” You ask and the dangerous undertone of your voice gets Abby excited. 

“You don't iron your clothes. It's annoying.” 

“Huh.” You press your lips together and Abby smells your anger. 

But you smell her arousal.

“Enjoying pushing my buttons?” Abby frowns like you said something stupid, but her scent spikes. “I can smell you.”

Abby huffs and gets up to walk out of the room, still trying to keep her irritated facade, but you catch her by her waist: you will not let it slide. 

“You don't get to walk away from me after being a brat.” Abby frowns but her cheeks flush red. She is caught.

“I'm not a fucking brat.” Abby tries to save her dignity. “You need to learn how to fold your clothes.” 

“Do I now? Or did you come up with an excuse to get me angry?” You graze her throat with your fangs and Abby folds. 

Her scent becomes thick and it hits you hard enough so you dig your nails into her waist, her pheromones pushing all of your instincts that are revved up on Abby's mood. You want to own her, to show Abby her fucking place and your brain just doesn't function anymore. You're not her nice gentle alpha now - you feel possessive and aggressive. 

“Bedroom, now.” You growl and Abby obediently guides you to your bedroom. 

You close the door and push Abby to the bed while she looks at you with her golden eyes and she is still fucking stubborn.

“Knees and elbows.” You order her and Abby listens. 

She presents herself to you: her spread glistening thighs with her swollen pussy on display. Abby turns her head to look at you and you growl: from this angle she looks so innocent, as if she wasn't being a bitch two minutes ago, and so inviting, begging to be filled and fucked properly.

You get on the bed and knead her ass, making Abby mewl, getting her desperate and frustrated - you feel it in her scent, her impatience. 

“You want something, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” Abby growls and it rips your self-control to shreds. Your eyes turn red and your scent gets worse, overpowering Abby. 

You grab her hair and press her head into the mattress, while you hold her waist with your other hand, making Abby arch and submit. Abby feels your jeans on her bare thighs and she rubs against you, not caring about anything anymore. 

“Don't fucking growl at me.” You say and Abby whines, falling into heat euphoria. 

“Please.” Abby begs, now definitely too turned on: she is ready to fucking cry. 

You hum and let go of Abby's hair, trying to get yourself under control. You sit back and watch Abby's hips wiggle, looking for any kind of relief, and you can't take it anymore, can't see Abby so stressed because she's not getting fucked. 

Two fingers slide in Abby easily and she moans, relieved. Abby can't keep her thighs up, her knees sliding in opposite directions, so you hoist her up by her hips and finally starts fucking her. You're still careful, but Abby is so wet and her cunt stretches so well around your fingers that you get more aggressive, almost taking your fingers out only to push them back to the hilt. Abby whines and grips her pillow, not knowing where to put herself: it feels so good, but she needs more. 

“I need you, please.” Abby chokes on her moan when you thrust particularly hard. Your pace gets quicker and then Abby feels another finger prodding her hole. “Oh my god, yes.”

“Look at this pussy, taking my fingers so well.” You marvel, watching your three digits fucking in and out of her. “You must be already close, tightening on me like this.”

Abby whines and snakes her hand to her clit, but you don't let her, pushing her hand away. Instead you lean down and suck on her clit, making Abby cum immediately. Abby shrieks and tries to close her thighs, but you keep fucking her anyway, until she taps her hand on your hip.

You slowly take your fingers out of Abby and kiss her ass cheek affectionately while you watch her cum drip on the covers. Your dick twitches and Abby whines when she sniffs how turned on you're, eager to satisfy you. Abby arches deeper, a clear invitation, and you growl, unbuckling your jeans and sliding them down enough for your cock to be free. 

You rub your dick on her wet, sensitive pussy and Abby growls again, too impatient for her own good. The slap on her ass cheek makes Abby twitch from sudden pain, but her scent spikes in arousal. 

“Cut it out.” You growl back and slap her other cheek, leaving a red handprint on her skin. 

Abby mewls and only gets wetter, pressing back into you. 

“Please.” 

“You can do better.” You huff and gently slap her cunt, making Abby jump. 

“Please-please-please, I need you, fuck.” Abby begs and you tap her pussy while she speaks just to rile her up. “Alpha, please!”

Abby hides her shriek in the pillow while you bottom out inside her, dragging your cock over her tight, sensitive walls. She is so wet and smells so fucking good, you just have to lean down and sink your teeth into her shoulder. Abby whimpers and bucks her hips, taking you even deeper, making you moan into her ear, and you both fall into full pheromone bliss. 

You slam your hips into Abby, pressing her head into the pillow so she wouldn't move, so she would submit, and she only sticks her ass out for you, submitting happily. You are mounting her now, covering Abby with your body, suffocating her with your scent, and Abby melts into the bed, whining and whimpering as you fuck her. Abby doesn't even try to think, fully lost in you, her only need is to be filled up and knotted now. 

“Alpha-” Abby sobs and pushes her arms by her sides to grab her underbutt and pull it apart, opening her drooling hole for you. You growl and slam into her harder: you don't control yourself anymore. 

You move your hand between Abby's shoulder blades to keep her pinned, but then you move enough so you could play with Abby's clit while you thrust into her relentlessly. 

“F-fuck-” You grunt when Abby tightens around you, making your pace stutter. “You're gonna be good? Gonna cum on my cock?”

Abby nods her head feverishly and mewls, her cunt flutters around you. 

“Good.” You growl and pick up your speed. You're so high on the pheromones, on the way Abby's pussy is so tight and hot around you, so you keep fucking her, pushing back inside her just to hear her little whimpers and feel her hot walls trap you. 

Abby coils and cums, filling your nose with her spiked scent, and you don't think anymore: you don't hear anything except Abby's pleas to knot her. You dig your nails into her hips and pull her back on your cock, and Abby jumps and twitches, but takes it. 

“Cum inside me, please.” Abby moans and you slam so hard into her Abby moves up on the bed, her poor pillow is under her tits now. 

“You'll look so good pregnant with my kids, Abby.” You pant. “Gonna be a good little omega and take my knot?” 

“Yes, please, yes!” Abby sobs and arches again, showing her submission, and it tips you over: you thrust into her, pushing your knot inside and Abby cums again, triggering your own orgasm when she pulsates around your knot. You growl and cum, filling Abby up. 

You both collapse on the bed and you bury your nose in Abby's neck, growling still. Your scent stops suffocating her and you both start to calm down. Your brain gets clearer in time with Abby's and suddenly you both smell of anxiety. 

“Fuck.” You sigh, not sure if you can touch Abby: you were so fucking rough with her. “Baby, how are you? I'm so sorry.”

“I'm fine, I'm good.” Abby says quickly, but she stinks of anxiety. “It's not that. You're in rut.”

You stop breathing. If you're in rut, and Abby is in heat, it-

“We fucked up.” Abby whispers, horrified. “I'm not on birth control.” 

You swallow, your heart heavy: you know what it means - it means Abby can get pregnant, since the syncs are the only times when an omega can get pregnant. You take a breath to keep calm for Abby's sake: you need to fix whatever upset her. You need to make her feel happy and safe, not scared and anxious. Thank god you can think for now, before your hormones fuck you over again. 

“Okay, baby, breathe. I'll go to the pharmacy and buy emergency pills.” You tell her gently and Abby nods. 

“What if they don't work? Fuck, what if I get pregnant?” The smell of anxiety intensifies and you really want to sneeze. 

“Then we will deal with it.”

“Will you leave me?” Abby sniffles.

You chuckle fondly: Abby is so cute during her heats. 

“Of course not. Summer wedding, remember?” You nuzzle into Abby's neck and carefully move to your side to make you two comfortable. “I'll be with you no matter what.” 

Abby sniffles again and smells of love, and you hug her tightly, your affection spilling out of you. 

“I didn't want to be so rough.” You say apologetically and Abby snorts. 

“I loved it. I knew someday I'd break you.” Abby smirks and you look dramatically shocked.

“So you planned it!”

“No, I was annoyed. But now I know I just need to growl at you and you'll do exactly what I want.” 

“Don't start now, I'm still kinda power crazy.”

“I'm going to have so much fun.” Abby giggles and you flick her nipple, making her yelp. 

“Yeah?” You purr dangerously and Abby shudders, clenches around your knot. “I will use my voice if you do it again.”

Abby bites her lips as her plan forms in her head. She is definitely growling at you again. 

It takes fifteen minutes for the knot to ease up and you run to the pharmacy, knowing you have fifteen minutes before you’re hit with the next wave. You stink, and people let you go first so you won’t bother them, and you run back home just in time. 

You don’t expect to be met with a very grumpy Abby: she sits on the bed in your t-shirt, frowning and pouting, her arms crossed on her chest. You blink at her, trying to guess her mood, but you have no idea what it is. 

Then she scrunches her face when she sees the pills in your hand, and her frown deepens. 

“No.”

You blink again.

“What do you mean “no”?”

“It’s our baby. I want to have our baby.” Abby crosses her arms tighter, defiant. 

Each word triggers your rut and you have to breathe through your mouth to calm down: you can’t just listen to your omega begging to have your baby, but you need to think with your bigger head right now.

“How about we go through this sync, and then if you still want a baby after, we will take it seriously, hm?”

Abby frowns, irritated. 

“Why can’t we have this baby? It’s already there!”

You hardly keep yourself from laughing: Abby is so fucking cute.

“Because this baby’s got irresponsible parents who will have them as an accident.”

“Okay. But only this time. I don’t want an accident baby. I want a planned baby.” 

Abby takes the pill and drinks water, while you sigh in relief - Abby might’ve been more stubborn. 

“It’s all your fault.” Abby says and you chuckle. 

“Instead of being a brat you can just beg like a good girl.” You offer her and Abby huffs. 

“You wish, alpha.” She mocks you. You smile.

Five minutes after Abby is begging and crying when you use your voice to tell her she is not allowed to cum. 

She is not the only one who is allowed to have fun.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #omega!abby

[flaming-green]

hi here are some accounts to follow if you're barely getting into the dead poets society fandom !! this is a veryyyyy long post im so sorry. if anyone wants to be removed from the list please tell me !! @kylacxie

first on the list !! @desire-mona (they/them). mona is everything and I love them. makes the absolute best posts ever and is just so fucking funny. you will see rsl posts very frequently. also posts about house md frequently. one of the best mutuals ever !! their tags under stuff they reblog are the best okay, they're either agreeing with you or it's something like "hey. *leans up against my anxiety diagnosis*" that's an actual tag I've gotten from one of their reblogs btw.

and now @i-am-in-love-with-todd-anderson (she/her). ania is one of the sweetest people ever and is so supportive. also very smart !! her analysis posts over the movie make so much sense and are mostly things I would've never thought of but still make so much sense. (those posts are either so depressing or are just a nice little experience.) also, she's like in love with Meeks. do I need to say any more.

@askthedeadpoetssociety (she/her). also just such a nice person. makes beautiful fan art and takes requests !! pretty sure she barely joined herself so there's not much else to say but I am very excited to see what her blog leads to !!

@pinksnail55 (she/her). everyone knows pinksnail55. we've only recently learned her name is Caroline !! her account is mainly reblogs, which I think is absolutely perfect. you would never miss a single amazing post.

@cimacally (I don't know pronouns, sorry). is also pretty new to the fandom ! comes on every once on a while to post the most accurate headcanons you will ever read in your entire life, reblog a thing or two, goes away (?), and then repeats. blog is still definitely worth checking out !!

FANFIC WRITERSS

@cowboylexapro (he/him). I've read a few of his pics and they're absolutely amazing and I would definitely check them out !!! his blog is also cool so that would be something to check out. (AO3 user: cowboylexapro)

@gayfandomnerd225 (it/kit/mae). absolutely had to include mae. has fifteen works so far and they're great !! writes both angst and fluff btw so choose your fav idk. also. please check out fog's blog !! especially the "queerdads duo" tag. (AO3 user: GayFandomNerd)

@aguyinthepubliceye (he/him). had to include the other half of my queerdads. porto. hello. he has two works and they're some of my favorites still !! also please check out his blog too ! he's funny as fuck and loves to traumatize my brother and I ( @amorisastrum ). though I wouldn't give him too much credit, user gayfandomnerd225 has those days too. (AO3 user: guyinthepubliceye)

I know @perksofbeingpoet (she/her) is a fanfic write too ! I'm just not sure if there are any works in this fandom yet. (AO3 user: perksofbeingpoet)

@chrisginny (she/her). if you're a chris x ginny enjoyer, then her blog is the place to go !! mainly only writes for that ship but it's great ! it would be nice to check out her blog as well just saying !!:) (AO3 user: ecarte)

@good--merits-accumulated (he/him). I read one of his pics the other day and it was one soo good. (Un Dernier Verre (Pour La Route) is what it's called. I highly recommend it !! is a fantastic writer and seems like a really nice person !! (AO3 user: mistermerit)

if I'm missing anyone, go ahead and reblog with people !! the list was getting long but here you go !!

#amazing people #all of you #again tell me if you didn't want to be tagged !!:) #dead poets society #dps #dps fandom #dead poets fandom

[sunkissedbedard]

wait ok i need you to write something trevor zegras based on a taylor song from rep, i saw u said it’s ur fave album so maybe call it what you want or king of my heart but honestly any song at all 🫣

a/n: anything for you 🥰 call it what you want is my all time favourite & the song that welcomed me to become a swiftie so it holds a special place in my heart 🥹 i hope you like it 🫶🏻✨

warnings: none except an overwhelming amount of fluff!

tags: trevor zegras x reader

word count: 0.8k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"god, it's like i can't even go online anymore with another one of those bot accounts making some stupid, half-assed comment about us." you said through a laugh to the boy next to you on the couch. trevor had finally had a day off from his busy hockey schedule with the ducks, so the two of you had decided what better way to spend the time together, than at home in the comfort of each other while you spent countless hours cuddling and watching movies.

trevor had immersed himself in a round of video games with a few of his other teammates while you had gone to do a load of laundry, as an intermission to your movie session. when you returned, you contently watched on the couch as he continued focusing intently on the screen before him.

"oh, c'mon, you know it's bullshit, y/n. they just say those things out of spite and because there's jealous." he responded, eyes still glued to his game. your mouth downturned into a frown at his lack of awareness towards something that has previously upset you. trevor knew that it was a sensitive topic for you, the comments of outsiders would always linger and keep you up at night, regardless of if you looked at them or not. even if you chose to ignore it, you knew they were still there.

"yeah, i know. but that's such a cliche; some of those things hit deep, whether they're saying it out of spite," you responded with a hint of mockery laced in your voice, nudging his hip with your foot to get his attention, to which you received no response, making you even more frustrated with the boy.

"y/n," he sighed, "you know, no matter what they say, that doesn't change how i feel about you." he promised, stopping his game and turning to face you. as he saw your saddened state as your shoulders shrugged down, his eyes slightly widened before he rushed to your side and pulled you into him so you were now laying on his chest. you inhaled his familiar scent that had seeped into the fabric of his soft hoodie you gifted him, and you felt yourself relax into him, as he pulled you into a tighter hug.

"it just gets to be too much sometimes, y'know?" you mumbled into his chest before lifting your head to meet his softened gaze. he reached forward to cup your cheek, meeting your lips with a soft and wet kiss, your lips detaching like velcro from wanting more from each other.

"i know, y/n. but i want you to know that there is nothing in this world that could change the way i feel about you. you are the best thing to ever happen to me, and i will forever be grateful that we bumped into each other that one day, or else we wouldn't be here." he paused to give you a soft smile, "i don't know what i would do without you, and letting people online get in your head to convince you otherwise? it's not worth your time, my love." he said looking into your eyes as every word fell of his tongue with such meaning, you could feel your heart warming and you broke out in a smile in response.

"i love you, trev, i don't know what i'd do without you either, you're an angel sent from above. you've made my world such a better place now that you're in it, and even though it's discouraging, being with you like this," you motion to your proximity, "it makes me feel like they fade to nothing when i look at you."

you lips reconnect with his, with more intimacy and passion this time, as you readjust yourself to be sitting, pressed against each other to feel each other's warmth.

you part, resting your foreheads against each other and laugh at the silence, "honestly, i'd wear your initial on a chain around my neck if i could," you spoke randomly, earning a raised eyebrow from trevor as he then furrowed his brows in confusion.

"you would? i mean- that seems a little possessive, don't you?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down the side of your arm.

"no, well- i wouldn't wear it in a way that says you own me, more so, because you really know me." you stated with a shrug.

the pair of you look at each other in silence, each of you confused at what you had just said, before bursting into laughter as he lunged towards you, carefully tackling you back onto the couch so you laid under him as he attacked your face with wet kisses.

he pulled away from you, looking down with shortness of breath from his surge of energy, "you're crazy, you know that?" he asked.

"what are you talking about, you love crazy." you responded, which only ended up with you laughing endlessly from the kisses he placed all over your face and neck.

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras fic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #trevor zegras

[bullet-prooflove]

TheGeneral!Series Part Three: Choices

Tagging: @kmc1989 @justameresimp @agentorange9595 @lxaah11 @librarian1002 @imaginecrushes @flrboyd @areamir @b-bradshaw @adaydreamaway08 '@crimeshowjunkie @inkandarsenic @caffeinatedwoman @tortilla-maria1 @lemmons1998 @dr-alan-grantler @dizzybee03 @burningpeachpuppy @penguin876 @deliriousfangirl61 @goosterroose @kishie8 @skyesthebomb @marshmallowflufffox @whateversomethingbruh @4everademigod @notanotherpotter @yousigned-upforthis @silversprings-mp3 @sadboihours10101 @luckyladycreator2 @littlebadarielll @toheavenwmydrms @buckysteveloki-me @emma-dawson

Beau doesn’t sleep. Instead he lies awake next to you and fantasises about the ways in which he can murder General Klein and get away with it. Each one becomes increasingly more violent until the clock hits four am and he forces himself up and out of the sheets.

His body moves on automatic, putting the laundry into the machine, throwing away the trash, washing the dishes. It feels like he’s in a dream, a horrifying, maddening dream.

When you come out the bedroom, you’re clad his hoody, the one that he was wearing last night. He knows it brings you comfort so he doesn't say anything.

Last night was the first time you’d acknowledged what happened to you, the first time you’d talked about it. It had been like a dam breaking. All that rage, that hurt, that devastation it flooded out of you in a rush. You'd cried yourself to sleep, your entire body tucked against his.

Your hair is still damp from the shower, it falls loosely across your features as you slide into the stool across from him at the breakfast island, your chin coming to rest on your arms. He mirrors your posture, his eyes on yours.

“What do you want to do?” He asks you and you bury your face into your arms. “Ok, well you can’t do that forever.”

“I can.” You tell him and he smiles just a little because this behaviour, it’s the first glimpse he’s seen of the real you since arriving in Washington.

“Ok so we stay here and we do this forever.” He says softly. “Just me and you in this kitchen, fuck anybody else.”

You huff out a laugh and it is the sweetest sound.

You tilt you head up to look at him and he busies himself with putting the kettle on and withdrawing two mugs from the cupboard. He makes a note to go shopping later on because there’s barely any food in the cupboards, he guesses you’ve barely been out of the apartment since it happened. That and the anxiety would explain the weight you’ve lost.

“If I do this.” You say, fingers toying with the bracelet on your wrist. “Then everybody will know what he did to me, they’ll never look at me the same way.”

Beau sighs as he pours the water from the kettle into each of the mugs, he’s chosen chamomile tea, something to sooth both your nerves.

“If you don’t do this, you’re facing up to ten years confinement and you’re life falls apart in a different way.” He says frankly as he sets the mug down in front of you. “You can’t get the help you need, you have no job, everything else you’ve worked so hard for…”

He trails off because he worries that he’s being too harsh but the truth is you need to see the reality of this situation. This isn’t going away and the longer you try to ignore it, the worse it gets.

“I will support you whatever you choose to do.” He tells you, slipping back into the stool across from you. You wrap your hands around your mug, your gaze coming fixating on the steam as it emits from the liquid. “If you want to fight this I’m game, if it’s too much, then I’m here too. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“What I want is for none of this to have ever happened.” You tell him, your thumbs chasing over the floral pattern on the porcelain.

“But it did happen.” He says gently, his hands coming to rest on yours. “And we need to start dealing with that.”

“I know.” You say quietly, your eyes flickering up to meet his. “That’s why I need you to call Harm. I need him to come over and take my statement.”

Love Beau? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#beau simpson #beau simpson x reader #beau cyclone simpson #beau cyclone simpson x reader #top gun maverick

[vodika-vibes]

Hello! Glad you're feeling better! And Congrats on the 500 followers!!

Could I make a request for your 500 follower event?

Alpha-17, Peridot (Strong Love), and morning.

Thank you!!

Tell Me

Summary: Sometimes, just sometimes, you doubt Alpha’s love for you. Luckily, he’s not shy about admitting such things to you.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 741

Prompt: Peridot - Strong Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope you enjoy your smidgen of Alpha-17!

It’s hard sometimes, ignoring the comments that the other natborn medics make about the men that you are all in charge of keeping healthy. The suggestive comments, and the less than subtle flirtations have a tendency to push you to the very end of your tether, but over time, you’ve learned to ignore their comments.

Mostly.

You have the hardest time when it’s Alpha-17 that they’re flirting with. And they’re not even subtle with him, flat out offering him places in their beds or offering to take him to the storage room to give him the ride of his life-

Those comments are the hardest to ignore.

Because Alpha is yours, and you are his. Though no one else knows that because you prefer to keep things professional when you’re working, and because Alpha likes keeping you to himself.

Normally you can force yourself to ignore the comments. They bother you, but you can bury yourself in a project or something, and can force the discomfort away.

Normally.

But for some reason, today the words of your coworkers are like ice picks getting jammed into your heart. For some reason, you can’t ignore their flirtations and suggestive comments. And your options are to explode on them and force them to be professional for one god-damned day, or walk away and claim a migraine.

And you choose to walk away. Even though it’s still early in the day. Even though you have a full day of tests and exams you’re supposed to do.

It’s better, in the long run. The moment the word migraine falls from your lips, the medbay falls silent and you’re offered an ice pack and an escort back to your quarters.

They’re good people, really.

So here you are, laying on your couch, watching trash TV with a bowl of popcorn sitting on the floor where you can easily reach it. And you’re really not surprised when your suite door slides open and Alpha-17 steps into your home.

He looks at you, at the bowl of popcorn, at the trash TV that you only watch when you’re feeling rotten about yourself, and his eyebrows creep towards his hairline. “I take it you don’t actually have a migraine.” He notes.

“...I could.”

“Uh-huh.” He walks over and crouches next to you, “What are you even watching?”

“Helicopter Moms from Hell,” You reply.

“...why?”

“It makes me feel better about my dumpster fire of a life.”

“Alright then,” Alpha grabs the remote control and powers down the holo, before dropping the remote out of reach, and then he picks up the popcorn bowl and carries it into your kitchenette.

“...rude.”

“Want to tell me what’s bothering you, mesh’la?”

“No.”

“Want to try again?”

You scowl at him, and then sit up, “I’m just…in a bad mood, that’s all.”

Alpha, who’s always been able to read you better than anyone else, eyes you with narrowed eyes, “Mesh’la,” He walks back over to you and crouches at your feet, “Does it bother you when your coworkers flirt with me?”

Your scowl deepens, “It shouldn’t.”

“But it does.”

“It doesn’t bother you.”

“Course not. Because I’m never going to take them up on any of their offers.” Alpha replies blandly, “The only person I want to take me into a storage closet or invite me into her bed is you.”

Your face heats, “That-”

He grins, “Yeah?”

You get so flustered that you look away from him and press your hands over your face, “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Cause it’s the truth.”

“Awful. Awful man.”

Alpha laughs and reaches up to tug your hands off your face, “I love you, mesh’la.” He says it easily, “No one will ever compare to you.” He tugs you off the couch and onto his lap.

“I-”

“Tell me.”

Your hand comes up and you lightly trail your fingers against his cheek, “I love you too.”

His grin is sharp before he leans in and kisses you deeply. Intent on making you forget all of your insecurities.

And, the following day, when he comes to the medbay and all of the normal flirtations start, Alpha puts an end to it by walking over to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. Before he winks at you and then leaves without saying a word.

Leaving you standing there, your face burning with embarrassment, and your coworkers descending on you with excited squeals.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #alpha-17 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[mgjong]

With Kotoko getting the guilty verdict, I have seen some people speculating about this so I wanted to make a poll (it has probably been done before but please indulge me)

My own thoughts for each character under the cut

So, this is a little complicated. I would like to start by saying I find it very unlikely for her to come out of this unscathed. Could happen, but I feel like for narrative purposes they would want her to be hurt in some capacity. It could just be the psychological strain the voices will have on her but again, I don't think she will be "fine". Now for the characters and possible arguments.

Fuuta This one is hard. If you know Fuuta well, you know he doesn't actually like violence. Far from it, he is the kind of person who avoids it and is terrified of it. While his words come off as brash and aggressive that's usually all he has. However we have seen he WILL resort to it as a desperate effort, either to try and help someone or out of anger, to try to show he is not weak.

The impression Fuuta has given me is that he is, well, afraid of Kotoko to put it simply. And while he shows very clearly his dislike for her and what she did to him he seems to have mitigated most of that anger towards Es since at the end of the day the judgment was up to them. Would an innocent verdict lead him to believe he is now in the right to hurt her back? In my opinion, unlikely. By voting Kotoko guilty and him innocent this trial we have, in a way, admitted our mistake to him. Fuuta has felt immense guilt for what he has done from the start, at the end of his second voice drama he was begging for our forgiveness. And we gave it to him. I think it would be counterintuitive for him to then go and attack Kotoko after this. I would like to believe that he has learned his lesson in a sense.

However, we must keep in mind what I stated earlier. Fuuta CAN be violent and will resort to it, especially when he feels like he has something to prove or is backed into a corner, usually on an impulse. So maybe given the right conditions he could lash out against her. However that would depend way more on her attitude towards the others than anything else.

Lastly, and I think this is what makes his case complicated is the possibility of him being influenced by Amane and her religion. As we know, revenge and punishment are very present in Amane's cult values and with Fuuta seeming more and more indoctrinated each day, I am starting to wonder if those could have any influence on his actions, leading him to actually take revenge.

However, from the last 2 timelines he sounds very tired with the way he’s speaking, exhausted even, from both the psychological toll of everything plus the constant physical pain. He also went to both Mahiru and Haruka in an attempt to try and help them though one mistook it for just nice words and the other refused his help to which, due to his exhaustion, he quickly gave up and brushed it off. So I wouldn’t say he’d have the strength and energy to try something against Kotoko even if the cult “punishment” ideals got into his head. Considering he lashes out when he feels cornered I think he’d only feel the need to if Kotoko, somehow, was still a danger towards him and the others. And still, I don’t think he would be able to do much damage since he is canonically the weakest of the guys (and Kotoko) in terms of strength.

Shidou This one seems to be based a lot on Triage's lyrics of "To extract that fang'' and Shidou's and Kotoko's very apparent animosity for each other. Having said that, do I think Shidou could attack her? No... not really. First I think those lyrics are referencing his attempts to help the ones Kotoko hurt, to reverse the damage she did. And while I find his innocent percentage to be very worrying I don't think it will be manifested that way. If anything, Shidou has Kotoko to thank for giving him a purpose and reason to live (even when he dislikes her). Not to mention how violence is... simply not his style. Shidou has said it himself. And while he can be "cold" I don't think he would just go and attack Kotoko. Especially when he will have bigger issues to worry about in the form of a certain child.

Now, what I can see him doing is something more in the case if Kotoko were to get hurt by other means. He could deny her treatment and/or make sure she doesn't recover from her wounds. But again I don't really think he would do it. Shidou currently attributes his life purpose to saving the lives in front of him and we encouraged this mindset with his innocent verdict. I don't think he would want to lose a chance to be useful, even if that patient was someone he despised.

John Alright this one I have very specific thoughts on. (Mikoto fans, you are free to tell me I am wrong.) First, I know John isn't stupid. He values Mikoto's well-being above everything else, which was made very clear. He would NOT risk him getting another guilty verdict by attacking another prisoner, right? Maybe. Listen, I think this one is complicated and depends a lot on what Kotoko will do.

I don't think John would go out of his way to attack Kotoko. After all, we have given Mikoto the innocent verdict, he will be (I hope) way less stressed, giving John less reasons to front. With Kotoko being restrained due to her guilty she would also be less of a threat to Mikoto. However if something were to happen... If Kotoko were to get free and try to attack someone in a fit of rage over her verdict... Well, we know who is the person she currently despises the most. We also know John and Kotoko are tied in terms of strength but with Kotoko being impaired from the guilty verdict it's very obvious who would have the upper hand.

And here is the thing: if Kotoko were fighting someone like Kazui, I am sure he would stop her, but in a way that didn't cause her any further harm. Would John also do that? Or would John feel the need to make sure Kotoko couldn't be a threat to Mikoto anymore? After all, we seem to be on his side, we considered Kotoko guilty for her actions. Wouldn't John feel justified enough to do this, especially with Kotoko being the one to attack first? I don't know, I just fear something will happen with Mikoto. There is a reason 09 and 10 were added later, that being to provide more "drama" to the narrative. There is also this line from John on a tl saying he would "beat Kotoko at her own game" but I... really don't want to dwell on the implications of that. Especially because I do believe John is very genuine in his care for Mikoto. I mean cmon you guys have seen Double and listened to Neoplasm!

Kotoko Well I don't really have much to say here. We know how self destructive she is, we have seen how much she disregards her own emotions and her own pain. We have seen how much she actually hates herself. I wouldn't put it past her. Maybe not in a "I am guilty so I guess I'll hurt myself" way but more out of resignation and anger with her whole situation or even by making stupid decisions. For example, I don't think at this point she would fight back much if someone were to try and hurt her. I really don't have much more to say about this, it's Kotoko Yuzuriha.

Don't have much on the other prisoners, maybe in very specific conditions??? No clue, Yamanaka might surprise us who knows.

So what is my conclusion? The most likely case to me is that Kotoko hurts herself either directly or by making a very stupid decision like attacking someone she shouldn't.

What about you?

#sorry if some of this doesn't make sense I started well and then got a massive headache so couldn't even proof read #kotoko yuzuriha #fuuta kajiyama #shidou kirisaki #john milgram #milgram

[myteavsricochet]

Latest fanfics read (firstprince edition) part 5:

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

When David, Henry's introverted beagle is scared of everyone, finding a new roommate becomes a challenge for Henry. But when David's obsession with a potential roommate, the charming Alex comes to light, their living arrangement becomes set in stone. As Alex and Henry navigate their living arrangement, a unique bond forms between them, sparking a journey of heartwarming friendship and eventually, love.

OR

David doesn’t like anyone but Henry because everyone Henry’s around before he moved to the US is awful, except Bea. So Henry’s having trouble finding a roommate. During their roommate interview, David curls up in Alex’s lap and goes to sleep.

When Alex and Henry move in together, David becomes strangely obsessed with Alex. When Alex leaves for school/work, he remembers Henry exists too.

make me your god

There’s no such thing as soulmates. Not for gods.

But then Henry meets Alex, and everything changes.

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, gods and mortals, Soulmates, Immortality

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

Any time, son.”

This time, Alex knows it’s not a nickname.

Or, 5 times Arthur and Catherine act like Alex's family and 1 time they become one.

Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Coming Out, Alex has ADHD, Found Family, Pining, but very little, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers, Ellen is kind of an asshole

in other words, until eternity (baby, i'm yours)

Henry reaches up and traces Alex’s cheek. Alex closes his eyes at his touch and lets Henry map his face with the pads of his fingers. He brushes over the curve of Alex’s ear, thumbs at the cut of his jaw and the indent of his chin dimple. Alex feels himself practically trembling, half in anticipation and half in response to the tenderness of the moment. His nose is next, then the line of his brows before Henry finally, finally traces the shape of his lips.

---

or: domestic bliss, firstprince edition

speak now (or forever hold your peace)

Then the preacher is saying, speak now or forever hold your peace…

This is his last chance. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, pounding in his ears, he gulps…

A second later, Henry is on his feet, standing tall.

*****

Alex left Kensington when Henry told him. And now, five years since then, Henry is invited to Alex’s wedding.

And you know how the saying goes, “If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it’s yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be.”

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-The Storming of Kensington Palace (Red White & Royal Blue), Pining, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Exes to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Angst with a Happy Ending

be my mistake

“So, like, I don’t usually do this.”

Henry raises an eyebrow. He knows Alex’s reputation across campus. Everyone does.

“I mean with guys.”

Oh. Right.

Henry nods. “I won’t say anything.”

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Frat Parties, Drinking, Implied/Referenced Sex, Fuckbuddies, Casual Sex, Sex Without Feelings, Fuckboi Alex Claremont-Diaz

King of My Heart

Alex, as always, is utterly captivating.

He accepts his crown with grace and a crooked grin; it’s a duality that only he can pull off. Alex’s megawatt smile is brighter than the hundreds of multicolored shards of light reflecting off the mirrorball in the center of the room. Henry knows that Alex looks good on stage, he knows that Alex knows that he looks good on stage, and apparently, everyone else knows it as well. Henry thinks he sees a girl faint at the sight out of the corner of his eye.

And yet, no one knows about Alex and him. Everyone in the crowd wants Alex, but it’s a losing battle — Henry already won that fight a couple of weeks ago.

-

Or, When Alex wins Prom King, Henry sneaks him away for a moment alone and realizes that his feelings may run deeper than their clandestine hookups suggest

The Weight of Confession

The careful balance of his time was tipping. He was supposed to be 33.3% Lawyer, 33.3% Spider-Man, and 33.3% Alex... Not always in the order. But yeah, okay, often in that order.

But, that balance had been tipping too far towards Alex time for a few weeks. Which, took away from time as Spider-Man. Then, work got busy, which meant there was less time for Alex to catch up with June... It never ends.

There aren’t enough hours in the day for Alex to feel satisfied in every role. And, June paid the price.

Or: The point in time where a housewarming party and an origin story converge.

part 2 of What's up, danger?

solace in my star(s)

thinking that maybe henry likes being an insomniac because without the darkness of the night you wouldn't see the stars and that's his way of connecting with arthur and then eventually he has alex and he finds the same solace and love in alex

Additional tags: henry fox-mountchristen-windsor needs a hug, depression, stargazing, insomnia, established relationship

i scratch your head, you fall asleep

“Long day?” Henry asked quietly and carded his fingers through Alex’s curls. The other man relaxed heavily into him with another sigh and Henry felt him nod against his leg.

“Long month, really,” Alex murmured. “But we finished prep for a case early today and Marge said I can’t come back until I’ve slept for at least twelve consecutive hours, so. Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Henry echoed fondly.

-

or, alex really, really needs a nap and henry really, really loves him

you don't know the answer (til someone's on their knees and asks you)

“This might be the best one yet,” Henry comments, picking up another forkful of cheesecake and holding it out toward Alex. “Cheers to another successful con.”

They clink their forks, sharing small secret smiles over their free dessert before exiting the restaurant with their fingers interlocked and thanking the hostess, while all the servers watch them leave with hearts in their eyes.

Exactly the way they’d fucking planned it.

---

Best friends Alex and Henry pretending to get engaged every week to get free dessert, until those pesky feelings get in the way.

falling in love (every time i see you)

“Henry, I love you.” He says it without knowing what it means, just that it feels right on his tongue, and Henry’s eyes go wide like he can’t believe anyone would say that to him. Alex would say it a thousand times. He’s just waiting for Henry to say it back.

(or, five times alex tells henry he loves him, one time henry finally says it back)

with all these nights we're spending (my broken bones are mending)

It’s unexpected, and the softness that Prince Henry maintains is a shock to his system.

It makes him want to say something, even if it’s only to ask how his day was or to request an explanation for why he spent nearly fifteen fucking minutes looking at Cupid and Psyche with a forlorn look in his eyes. When he moves on, Alex gazes up at the sculpture and tries to discern the magic that must have captured the prince’s attention, but he comes up with no answers.

Which makes him want to ask more.

But he isn’t supposed to.

----

Or, Alex is the new V&A night guard and Henry is the prince that Alex has been explicitly instructed to leave alone.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb fics

[nctangelz]

IS THIS WHAT LOVE FEELS LIKE?

tags :: @yjjnfied

summary :: sooyoung finally gets something off her chest

sooyoung couldn’t keep her eyes off of wooyoung.

she couldn’t stop staring at him, she couldn’t stop admiring all of his features, his beautiful eyes, how his hair was so fluffy yet looked so perfect, how his dimples show when he laughs, how his lips were so pink and so soft — which was her main problem. she couldn’t stop staring at the boy’s lips. she kept having the desire to kiss him, to feel his lips pressed up against her own, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty about her thoughts.

was it wrong, to imagine kissing wooyoung? they had gone out quite a few times, and wooyoung has always given sooyoung the impression that he was interested in her, but what if she read him wrong? what if he only sees her as a friend? she would be devastated and forever embarrassed if she went to kiss him, and he only rejected her.

wooyoung must have sensed her overthinking, because he had turned his head from the tv to look at her, placing a gentle hand on her thigh. “is everything alright, sookki?” wooyoung asked, smiling softly when sooyoung blushed at the nickname. sookki was the nickname wooyoung had made up for her, and no one else had ever called her that (he took part of her name, and the ending of bunny in korean). “you can talk to me, you know.”

sooyoung only laughed and looked down, biting her lip when wooyoung had started to slowly rub his hand up and down her thigh. he was not helping her inner debate whatsoever,

“i don’t know…im just thinking.” sooyoung managed to get out, bringing her hands to play with the ends of her hair, a nervous habit she had since a kid.

“what thoughts are going on in your pretty head?” wooyoung asked, turning so his body was completely facing sooyoung - his hand still on her thigh. wooyoung was smiling at her, but she could see that he was genuinely concerned for her. sooyoung wanted to voice her feelings aloud, but she couldn’t find the words for them.

she could hear monique in the back of her head, telling her to “stop overthinking, whats the worse that could happen?” …. the two girls had just had a conversation the night before, monique was the only one who knew her true feelings for wooyoung. if monique was there, she would be telling her to let all of her anxieties go, and just do it.

so that’s what sooyoung did - she leaned forward, wrapped her hand behind wooyoung’s neck, softly playing with the ends of his hair, and she kissed him. she could feel her body heating up from wooyoung’s plump lips, kissing him in reality was so much better than what sooyoung could have ever imagined. before sooyoung could kiss him longer, she quickly regained her thoughts and immediately backed away, gasping when she saw wooyoung’s shocked face.

“fuck, wooyoung - im so —” sooyoung mumbled out, but wooyoung didn’t even let the girl finish apologizing before he crashed his lips back to sooyoung’s, grabbing wooyoung’s waist and swinging her into his lap, pulling her even closer. sooyoung really could feel the warmth all through out her body, and she swore nothing had ever been better than this. she loved every second of it, she loved the tight grasp wooyoung had on her waist, how she could feel his heartbeat against her chest, and most importantly, his lips. she loved how he kissed her with such passion, such desire, with love.

when wooyoung had pulled away to get air, it took awhile for sooyoung to regain her thoughts again. his kiss and touch had sent her in a cloudy daze - she was still in shock that it had even happened.

“that was my first kiss,” sooyoung sheepishly mumbled, hiding her face in her hands when wooyoung’s face lit up in suprise.

“i was your first kiss, are you serious?” wooyoung asked, wrapping the girl in a tight hug when she nodded. “that makes it even more special, doesn’t it?” wooyoung said, gently patting her head when he saw that she was still embarrassed.

“don’t be embarrassed, my love. i’m not judging you! i’m happy that you chose me to be your first kiss.” wooyoung said, almost instantly making sooyoung feel better. “what, do you like it when i call you ‘my love’?”

“it has a nice ring to it,” sooyoung whispers, nuzzling her face into wooyoung’s neck when he cooed at her shyness. the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, regaining their ability to breath, and soaking in a few minutes of peace, relaxing against one another.

eventually, sooyoung sat up, awkwardly scooting off of wooyoung’s lap and bringing her legs to her chest. she wanted to end her overthinking - but she knew she had to take some brave steps to be able to do that. so with a deep, shaky breath, she finally expressed her feelings to wooyoung.

“if you haven’t noticed already, i like you…i have for awhile. do you like me, too?” sooyoung asked, smiling when wooyoung nodded.

“i do in fact, like you. i like you not just a little bit, i like you a lot! i like you this much!” wooyoung chuckled, extending his arms to show his arm span. sooyoung smiled and tackled the man into a bear hug, squeezing his waist. she felt so safe in the arms of wooyoung, she realized, when he hugged her back and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

“do you think we could…i don’t know,” sooyoung trailed off, looking up at the boy, resting her chin on his chest. she wanted to ask him out - but finding the wording was so hard. she didn’t want to sound eager, or cringy, but she also didn’t want to give wooyoung the wrong impression. sooyoung could sense his hesitancy, quickly adding, “if you want to go slow - that’s fine…” sooyoung mumbled, frowning when wooyoung still looked full of worry.

“i want you to be my girlfriend, soo, but what about your stalkers? what about Bora?” wooyoung asked, pursing his lips, “i know we can’t let them dictate our life’s forever, but are you okay with facing the backlash if they find out?”

sooyoung thought about it - she knew it was more likely that they were going to find out about the romance between wooyoung and sooyoung, and she knew that when the news broke out, it wouldn’t be pretty. she was so sick and tired of letting people dictate her life, just because they want to control her. even if bora hated her even more than she already does, she knows her members would have her back, no matter what the conditions were.

“yes…i think i would be ready to deal with the backlash. even if it’s bad, i know i have you and my members to support me.” sooyoung said, placing another kiss on wooyoung’s lips, hoping to reassure him more.

“so, park sooyoung, does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” wooyoung asked, and the both of them couldn’t help but giggle at the cheesiness of it all.

“yes, wooyoungie, i’ll be your girlfriend.”

with that, wooyoung scooped the girl back into his arms, smiling when the girl practically melted on top of him, and placed one more kiss on her lips, allowing himself to linger for a bit more, feeling the softness of her lips before pulling away.

sooyoung decided that if falling in love felt like this - then maybe it wasn’t so scary after all.

#bad writing i’m so sorry #nct addition #nct added member #nct extra member #nct female addition #nct female subunit #nct female unit #nct female oc #nct female member #kpop oc #nct 24th member #nct dream added member #nct dream female addition #nct dream addition #nct dream female member #nct dream oc #nct dream 8th member #nct dream fluff #ateez fluff #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x oc

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 3

Ok so I decided to cut down the next chapter so I could get something out before I take a small break, but the next one is over hlaf-way done so it'll be out soon. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 5942

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

PART 1: Chapter 3

I'd rather be unemployed.

Fimble-Famble (Definition): A really lame excuse for not wanting to do something. (Noun)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Monday, 9th December, 1929.

“And he told me that we needed the money so I had to take it!” you cried as you slumped in the armchair.

Agnes gave you a look over the top of her glasses, the book she was reading now long forgotten since you stormed in that evening practically red in the face as you ranted to her about the whole radio fiasco. Knowing your tirade wasn’t over, she placed a bookmark between the pages and snapped the book shut, reaching over the arm to place it on the side table with a sigh.

“Well he is your boss.” She explained calmly, and you slumped down further, edging your sock-clad feet towards the fire. “If he believes you can do it, then I don’t see any reason as to why you can’t. Besides,” she gestured to the bag of books by your feet. “Those books he gave you are about radios for beginners – having that knowledge could open up further job opportunities for you.”

All you did was stare at the bag with a frown, before you kicked it over with a whiny grunt. Agnes sighed again.

“You’re going to get rude customers wherever you go, so when you’re the one representing the business, you be the better person and take the challenge calmly.” She pressed, peering over at you with a stern expression.

Silence.

She squinted slightly. “You.. did take it calmly, didn’t you?”

When you continued to narrow your eyes at the ground, she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Christ, no wonder the twins grew up to be as crazy as they are.” She muttered. “Look, if Mr LeBlanc has asked you to take on this repair, and allowed you to take the pay for the extra labour hours, then I see no reason for you to refuse this man’s request – at least, not without cause.”

You sat up straight, prodding the cushioned arm with your finger. “Oh, I have cause. It is because I hate him!” You exclaimed.

Your aunt tilted her head, regarding you with a tired look. “My lovely, you’ve only had one conversation with him over the phone.”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “Two, if you count the letters.” You growled. “Besides, I think Ralph only told me to take the job ‘cause he knew the guy.” Agnes raised a brow. “I said it was a Mr A. Boudreaux, and he almost choked to death from coughing his lungs out. I told him he was rude to me but he just kept saying that I had to.”

“Did he say please?” she asked, a small knowing smile on her face.

“…Yes.”

“There you go.” Agnes concluded, reaching over to give your knee a few rough but assuring pats. “I don’t know who this Mr Boudreaux is, but if Ralph wants it done, then you can at least try. Besides, I’m off work until next Monday, so I’ll be home for a whole week to give you a hand if you need one – I know how those equations and diagrams make your head go all fuzzy.”

You sighed dejectedly, then gave your aunt a small smile. “Thank you. If anything, I’m doing it for this guy’s mum, not him.”

“Awww, at least he’s sweet to his mother.” She smiled, before turning towards the door and raising her voice slightly. “I do hope I get that treatment when I’m older!”

All she got was a loud farting noise echoing through from the other room.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Friday, 13th December, 1929.

The patio double doors hung wide open as you laid your head on the kitchen table, staring at the technicolour marbling of the setting sun. Tools, wires and random pieces of springs laid scattered on the wooden surface around you, along with several books opened to pages of diagrams you had spent the last week trying to understand but to no avail. You had sent a letter on the Tuesday, informing Mr Boudreaux that your boss had decided that the radio would be taken on.

You refused to call him again, lest you face the humiliation of that faceless smug bastard as he found out that your boss had sent you back with your tail between your legs to tell him that you were in the wrong – something you adamantly avoided stating in your letter, instead half-hinting that Ralph had miraculously recovered overnight (he hadn’t), and took the project on personally (he didn’t do that either).

It also seemed that the good luck spell you and your aunt had performed that Monday evening worked - after you had collapsed on your imaginary chaise-longue and wailed to her about the dilemmas of the day, she had dragged you to her room, going on about how you hadn’t been keeping up with your practice for the last seven months. She made you bring your grimoire from your room, and you both spent around an hour resetting and cleansing energies, also setting up a small bowl of different herbs and trinkets that symbolised good luck, making you put it on your bedside table along with a new incense burner she had bought you. Honestly, if your aunt wasn’t around, you probably would’ve spontaneously combusted by Wednesday.

Agnes had also sat with you every evening, reading through the radio books, and slowly helping you work things out when the words started to blend together and you found yourself trying to read a paragraph as much as you could, but to no avail.

It was times like this when you wish you were back home, when everything was normal. When people weren’t giving lingering looks to your aunt as she traipsed about the village like every other innocent woman. When your uncle was telling you about his family and his way of living in Japan to his sons, and to you whenever you had the time to stop by. When you were treated as a well-respected, intelligent woman, who was freshly graduated from university at the top of her class. Not whatever those men had said to you when they came to your door after the local doctor had practically snitched on you. If only that dinner hadn’t happened. If only your aunt’s maid hadn’t gone snooping where she shouldn’t. Within a year everyone had been torn from each other.

But there wasn’t much time for mourning. You had less than two weeks to get this radio looking like it did when it was fresh off the shelf, otherwise you risk disappointing your boss for the first time ever, which would have you unconsciously doubting yourself for the rest of eternity.

Your head still on the table, you pinched a spring coil between your fingers, holding it up against the orange-purple sky as you glared at its silhouette. Rustling came from beside you as your aunt flipped the pages of the books, eyes flitting between them and the notes she was taking in her notebook.

You felt her glance at you a couple times, until there was a sound as she shifted, then silence. Feeling a finger tap your shoulder lightly, you slowly sat up to face her. She was facing you, an uneasy look in her eye as she took her time coming up with what to say.

“So..” she began hesitantly. “I understand your busy right now working full time at the shop, but since we got the news yesterday that Ralph was getting better, I was going to ask you,” she waved her hand about in thought. “If you’re going back to working only two days, would you consider looking for another job?”

You sat up straight, confusion clouding your face. “You want me to quit on Mr LeBlanc?”

“NO, no no!” she cried, waving her hands to dismiss the obvious miscommunication as she laughed nervously. “I meant look for a second job? I felt awful even thinking about asking you, but with the free time you’ll have, I just think it would make surviving this crash easier if we both had a steady wage coming in? I mean, as steady a wage that two women during this time an get.” She looked at her hands as she twisted them, hesitance and guilt written all over her face. “I want the boys to have a completed education, and it’ll crush me if I force myself to take that away from them.” She turned to you, trying her best to hide the tears threatening to build up. “I know you’re only here temporarily, and I’m not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable doing, but –” she took a shaky breath. “as humiliating as it is, I need your help.”

Moments passed as you stared at the woman before you. The woman who used to be so full of life and love when she was surrounded by family – who loved the village she grew up in and the city she moved to – who loved the husband she fought tooth and nail to marry – now sat in a house in an unknown city she never asked to be in, a country she never asked to move to. Torn from her sister to an unknown place on the other side of the planet. All because her stupid maid couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut.

Reaching your arm out, you grasped her hand with your own, waiting until she looked up at you, dark eyebags you never thought you’d see underlining her eyes like a curse. You knew she wasn’t sleeping enough.

“I’ll start looking tomorrow.” You stated quietly but firmly, squeezing her hand affirmingly.

Her eyes glistened as they widened, regarding you with a desperate hope, until she let out a loud sniffle and dropped her head onto your shoulder, trying her best to conceal her own shoulders as they jerked up and down slightly with her light sobs. Resting your head on top of hers, you both sat there in silence as you listened to the clock tick along with your aunt’s quiet sniffs as she attempted to calm herself.

“There’s an assistant’s job going down near the French Quarter.” She muttered. “I know the guy who runs the place and he said he would be happy to interview you?”

You perked up at her suggestion. “Ok, what kind of company is it?” Your aunt remained silent for a moment. “Agnes?”

“It’s a, uhhh… radio station.”

Jerking your head off hers, she quickly sat up as you gave her a deadpan expression.

“C’mon,” she pushed with a watery giggle. “I said you we’re learning how radios work for a repair, and he seemed excited that you would have some knowledge before you applied.”

“Unwanted knowledge.” You pressed. “He’s gonna have to offer a decent salary if he wants me to be within a ten mile radius of a radio ever again.”

Your aunt gave a throaty laugh in response. “Oh, don’t worry, I made sure of that before asking you. I can give him a call if you’re willing to interview?”

Making sure to let out a very long and tired sigh, you looked at you aunt’s pleading face, before slowly nodding. Letting out a cry of relief, she clapped her hands, then grabbed your face as she squished your cheeks, moving your head from side to side as she let out a string of ‘thank yous!’.

Eventually after her tirade of affection, she got up, flipping her twin plaits over her shoulders as she approached the sink, rinsing both of your mugs to make the fifth cup of tea that evening. You went to reach across the table for a book when your ears perked up at the sound of a small ‘psst’ from your right side.

Glancing over, your eyes landed on the archway that led into the hallway, and you were able to see all the way down to the front door from where you were sat, though half of your view was blocked by the underside of the stairs. Peering down the long hall, you leant back in your seat until a dark mop of hair peeked around the staircase banister.

Quickly flicking your eyes to Agnes, you made sure she was still facing the sink when you turned back to make eye contact with Ollie, who was precariously perched on the bottom step as he manoeuvred his upper body to curve around the wooden post to face you. Another mop of lighter hair joined him, as Allie stuck his head between the ceiling and the railing from where he was further up the stairs. Reaching one arm round and the other through the banister posts, Ollie began waving and pointing his fingers about, signing the most ridiculous gestures as he tried to convey a message.

‘What??’ you mouthed silently, frowning as you shook your head slightly in confusion.

At this, your cousin tried again, jabbing his fingers about a bit harder as he repeated the message.

You stared, eyes darting to the side then back again, and you simply shrugged. At this point Allie had thrown a dirty sock at his brother, and you barely heard him hiss at Ollie to make it simpler.

Rolling his eyes, Ollie shifted until he was fully facing you. With frustrated, wide eyes, he pointed at you. You nodded. Then pointed upstairs. You nodded again. Then jabbed his thumbs at his chest as he mouthed ‘my room’, then held his hand up with all of his fingers splayed out, ‘five minutes’ he said silently. Nodding once more, you watched as your cousin froze at the clatter of mugs as your aunt moved about, before quickly darting back round the banister, crawling on all fours as he soundlessly disappeared back up the staircase like some shadow creature along with his brother.

Sighing with a roll of your eyes, you returned back to the mess in front of you, thanking your aunt as she placed a fresh steaming mug of tea down. Picking it up, you bathed in the hot vapours rising from it before sticking your tongue out slightly to test the temperature. Quiet slurping sounded from beside you as your aunt returned to her seat, sipping from her own mug. Glancing at you, she placed it down to pick up a book.

“So,” she said as she casually turned a page. “What did the boys want?”

You took a large sip.

“No idea.”

--

Five minutes later, you took it as a well-earned break, trudging upstairs to see what the twins wanted to yap at you about.

“What’re you two up to now?” You sighed as you pushed open the door that had the sign saying ‘Ollie’s Room’ nailed to it. You looked up, only to stop in your tracks as your eyes landed on the two hunched over a very large corkboard, though, the cork was hardly visible with all the random pieces of paper, newspaper clippings and string pinned to it.

“Whaaaat is that?” You said slowly, brows furrowing as you stared at the board with wide eyes.

Ollie practically crawled his way over to the door, hands on the floor as he lifted a leg like a dog taking a piss, to kick it closed before scurrying back to his twin’s side, who was busy looping glittery wool string around another pin.

“A corkboard.” Allie simply said, not even bothering to look your way.

“I can see that.” You deadpanned, making your way over. “I’m asking what is on it. And specifically HOW you got pictures of dead bodies.” You pointed out, stepping closer to see the black and white photographs of body parts and corpses that you knew definitely shouldn’t be in the hands of your underage cousins. (Though they were 17 now, and clearly the closer they got to adulthood, the more excuses they had to do crap they weren’t allowed to.)

Allie snipped the end of the string, his voice lowering as he regarded you with a dark look. “If we told you, we’d have to kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first.” You hissed, raising a leg to kick him. “Explain.”

“Okayyyyy fine!” he whined, shuffling out of the way to avoid your attack with a pout. “The son of the Sheriff is in our class, and we pay him to enlarge photos from the crime scenes that are suspected to be the Bayou Butcher.”

Your mouth flung open. “You WHAT?!?!” You yelled.

Ollie swiftly raised his hand to cover your mouth. “Shush, if mum hears you, we’re all dead!”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Reaching your hand up, you slapped his away. “We’re all dead regardless!!” You hissed. “Has the thought crossed either of your microscopic brains that what you’ve done is, like – I don’t know – super illegal??”

“It’s fine.” Allie shrugged. “If we guess that someone is onto us, we burn the evidence.”

Your looked between the two of them with wide eyes. “What if mum finds it when you’re both at school? What then??”

Allie sighed. “She won’t find it. Promise.” He stretched his arm up to the top of the board, flipping it over to show another side with random drawings and knick-knacks pinned to it. “We just flip it over and stick it in the wardrobe.”

“What, and pray she doesn’t get the urge to do her usual chores and find it as she’s hanging up your washing??” You contradicted.

“Yea pretty much.” Ollie replied.

You glanced between them worriedly, shaking your head. “You two are treading on thin ice here.”

“Yea yea but we didn’t bring you here to moan about everything.” Interrupted Ollie. “What we were trying to say before you rudely changed the subject was that this was our theory board.”

“Your illegal theory board.” You poked, crossing your arms.

Allie simply frowned up at you from where he was knelt on the floor, and you sighed.

“Fine. I’m guessing it’s about the Bayou Butcher?” You asked, before scrunching your face. “Why am I even asking? Of course it is.”

“Yep.” Ollie replied, his demeanour now more excitable. “Every grisly murder that matches his M.O. – well – our idea of his M.O. Along with every newspaper article about him, and maps of places the bodies have been found.” He explained, pointing each thing out. “We’re currently trying to figure out a potential pattern, but to no avail at this point.” He turned to you with a determined look in his eye – something you should be seeing on an actual detective, NOT your dingbat of a cousin. “But we will. At some point.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing the information. “Ok, so, why am I here?”

They both looked at each other, before facing back to you.

“To help us.”

“Absolutely not.”

Allie pouted. “Aww c’mon! We thought you liked this sort of stuff?” he whined, gesturing at you.

“Yea, from an outsider’s perspective! Not when there’s a potential for the police to come after me! Hell, this Butcher guy could find out you’re onto him and come after you himself!”

They rolled their eyes. “Ok, mum. No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Jived Allie. “We can guarantee you, no-one’s gonna find out.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How, then?”

“By not being stupid?” Ollie said as if it was the most obvious thing.

You sighed, thinking to yourself for a moment. “…Fine.” You held a finger up when their faces brightened. “But if anything gets dangerous, I’m burning it all myself.”

They both nodded excitedly, beckoning you over as they began to explain everything.

You knew at some point they would both be the death of you.

--

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Monday, 16th December, 1929.

The sun was still yet to melt the snow when you walked into town with your aunt that morning, arms linked as to not slip on the compacted ice as you both tried to step onto the trams that were miraculously still running. Your arms remained linked as both made your way to a wide, busy street just off the outskirts of the French Quarter, about a twenty minute walk from where the antique shop was.

Mr LeBlanc has graciously given you the day off, as a thank you for running the shop. His cough had receded, and was determined to return to work. Though his wife insisted on joining him in the shop for a couple days to keep an eye on his health, despite his grumbling.

“I can assure you Mr Durham is lovely.” Agnes said with unwavering confidence as she patted your arm with a knitted glove. “The interview should be over in fifteen minutes or so – you’ll be in-and-out before you even realise it, so there’s no need to worry.”

You gave her a shaky smile. “Hopefully. Though I haven’t been in any interviews to know if it’ll go well.”

“It will.” She stated firmly. “Now, do you remember what we went over when answering interview questions?” You nodded, and she slowed you both to a stop. “Brilliant. We’re here.” She gestured up to a relatively tall building, the brickwork looming over you as the wall above the doors displayed the words ‘W.A.D RADIO’ in bright, white paint.

Peering up at the five-storey building, you felt nerves creep up your spine as you began to sweat slightly.

“Oi, look at me.” Muttered Agnes, reaching out to gently take your shoulders as she turned you to her. “No matter what happens in there, it’s not the end of the world, I can promise you that.” She assured. Glancing her eyes across your face, she reached up to straighten the simple blue cloche hat she had let you borrow. “There should be a receptionist at the front desk, just go in and tell her your name and that you’re here for an interview with Mr Durham, ok? I’ll be waiting out here for you.”

The air in your throat stuttered as you took a deep breath, your nervousness a stark contrast to the anger-fuelled confidence you had when answering that phoner. Nodding silently, you returned your Aunt’s smile before stepping away and pushing the door open, hoping the ‘Good Luck!’ she had whispered to you would give some assist.

--

You could sense the receptionist staring at you as you sat staring blankly at the tiles on the floor ahead. Picking the non-existent dirt from under your nails, you felt the sickening nerves in your stomach ease slightly when you had sat on the worn, leather-clad bench, the conversation with the woman at the desk having gone as smoothly as you could make it, luckily without your mind going blank or stuttering on any words.

“Where did’ya say you were from again?” You heard, and you raised your head to see the receptionist leaning on her elbows on the desk, chewing on a pencil as she looked you up and down. “You’re English, but’cha don’t sound quite like those gents on the radio?” she questioned, her slightly nasally voice cutting through the air as she bore you down with her gaze.

You blinked. “…I’m from the North-East.”

She furrowed her brows, the wood of the pencil clacking on her teeth. “North-East a’what?”

“Of England? You know there’s over forty different accents used in the UK, right?.” You explained.

She looked you up and down once again. “Huh.” Was all she said, before she shrugged her shoulders, turning back to the paperwork she was pointedly ignoring, and you returned to fiddling with your hands, now choosing to pick at any loose lint on the hat laid on your lap.

About five minutes later, the sound of shoes clicking against tile tapped against your ears, and you looked up to see a man donned in business attire round the corner. He was rather tall and large, but in a soft muscular kind of way. His murky brown waves fell loosely over his forehead, peppered with streaks of grey along with his thick beard, and he still retained the tan from the summer, but his pale shade of skin was starting to show through again, softening the piercing blue of his eyes.

Speaking of eyes, it didn’t take him a second to scan the room before they landed on you, the cerulean if his iris’ turning an almost baby blue under the lights as they brightened at the sight of you.

“Ah! There you are!” He exclaimed, arms spreading wide to welcome you. “I was wondering when your aunt would drop you off!” His white teeth glistened as he gave a handsome, warm smile. Approaching where you sat, you quickly stood to take his large, outstretched hand, the warmth from him enveloping your snow-frozen skin. “I’m Mr Durham, co-owner of Watson & Durham Radio.”

You could see why your aunt let him take her out for dinner.

--

“– and you’ll be here Wednesday to Friday, from what your aunt said on the phone.” Mr Durham rambled on. You had been interviewed in his office on the third floor, but he had insisted on taking you on a tour around the expansive building. At first, he showed you your potential desk, positioned just outside his office, facing the rows of other desks that spanned the large room ahead.

Now you were taking the stairs to the fifth floor – ‘where the magic happened’ – according to the spritely man.

“These are the radio booths – each host gets their own.” Mr Durham explained, gesturing down the wide corridor.

Strangely, his pace seemed to quicken as he led you past the windows, but you tried your best to peer into each one. Some were dark, as no-one was in. Others were presenting, the ‘ON AIR’ sign above their door glowing bright, the rest were either chatting amongst each other, or alone in their booths, scribbling down in notebooks or on sheets of paper.

“– David, Jeff, Al, Brian, and Ol’ Timmy are all here – ‘cept the rest who have the day off.” Mr Durham listed off, pointing out each man as he rushed you by. “Though-” he lowered his voice a little. “- if you take the job, it’s best we keep you on the third floor.” You furrowed your brows at his odd comment, to which he spotted, quickly giving an explanation. “The boys can be a bit of a distraction you see. Being on the radio means you have to be charismatic, and I want you to settle in comfortably before I introduce you. A few can be quite… nosey. And overwhelming – some more than others.” He muttered, glancing into one of the booths near the end, and you looked over to see the back of a man’s head, his hair styled neatly from what you could see, and you watched as he gently tapped his foot to whatever was playing through his headset whilst he jotted away in the notebook on his desk.

As Mr Durham’s large shadow cast across him, he began to turn his head, and you managed to catch a glimpse of a pair of thin glasses before you walked out of sight of the window.

Thinking nothing of it, you followed the boss round the corner at the end of the hallway, and he continued to tour you around the building, pointing out the odd thing or person here and there.

--

The chill of the winter air hit your face once again as you pushed the front door open, and you scanned the street for your aunt. Glancing to the spot where she left you, a frown crossed your face as you found it empty, but barely a moment passed until your name was called out, and you looked up across the street to see your aunt stood outside the door of a café, waving for you to come over.

Cursing out America for having their jaywalking laws, you quickly searched for a crossing, speed-walking as fast as you could over the road despite the slippery snow as you jogged up to your aunt.

“So? How did it go?” she breathed excitedly as she led you inside to a small table, where there was already a steaming cup of tea waiting for you.

Grasping the warm beverage in your hands, you relayed the events of the last half hour to the woman bouncing in her seat across from you.

“Ok, but, were you happy with what you saw?” Agnes asked once you had finished.

You nodded. “Yea, pretty much.” You answered. “That Durham guy was already talking about me settling in before he offered me the job.”

Her back straightened. “He did?? Did you accept?” She gasped.

Looking at her over the top of your cup, you felt a smile grow on your face. “Mhm, I start Wednesday.”

Your aunt threw her hands in the air. “Oh thank god!” Her eyes darted about in frantic thought. “Oh! We’ve got to go shopping for some proper work clothes for you! Mr Durham is quite flexible with workwear but we’ll still go.” She rambled, pulling a piece of paper and a pen out her purse to start jotting things down, mumbling under her breath. “There’s a shop down the main street, and you’ll be needing some smarter trousers –”

“Speaking of Mr Durham,” you interrupted with a small smirk, watching Agnes accidentally jerk her pen across the paper as her wide eyes looked up at you. “He seems oddly fond of you. He asked me how the twins were getting on at school before he asked for anything about me.”

She froze, and you raised a brow.

“It’s also not like you to let some guy take you out. For dinner.” You added.

She glanced away, then back at you, slowly placing her pen down as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

“It’s not like that –”

“Sure it’s not.”

She sighed your name in exasperation. “We’re both regulars at this café, and we met back in January and have been friends since. Happy?” She explained rather curtly.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Do the twins know about him? You know how protective they are over you since their dad passed.” You questioned gently.

Agnes closed her eyes, raising her hand to rub at her forehead. “They know, but they haven’t met him yet. Even if it does end up being ‘like that’, it’s been almost a decade since we lost Hiro, and it gets hard trying to raise two very energetic boys and keep a steady roof over their heads.” She stared into her drink with a faraway look as she recalled her late husband. “This world wasn’t built for women to be alone, and as infuriating as that sounds, I’ve been backed into a corner so many times that I only see someone like him as my one ticket out.”

Silence stretched between the two of you, as you let the words your aunt spoke about your uncle sink in. She hardly ever spoke of Hiro, so mentioning him now meant how serious she was.

“Alright.” You said softly, and her head raised to look at you. “I know I have no place telling who you can and can’t talk to, but please make sure both the twins and you are happy and safe. The last thing I want is a repeat of these last two years.”

A dark shadow crossed her face. “Oh believe me, it won’t.” she assured in a low tone. “If I knew the police weren’t going to show, I would have strangled Beatrice before she stepped a foot out the house.”

Nodding, you sighed, finally relaxing back in your seat as a natural silence fell over the two of you. Bringing the tea to your lips, you bathed in the fumes, watching passersby as they fought against the onslaught of the oncoming blizzard, and pondered about the possibilities of your first day at the radio company that sat on the opposite side of the street. Eyes unfocused, you stared blankly at the double doors that led into the towering brick building, thinking about when spring would come round and you could start to wear your summer dresses, but you focused back in when the double doors opened, and you watched as a man stepped out.

You couldn’t see his face, as it was lowered against the wind, but you recognised the mop of neatly styled, dark, brown hair that you had spotted earlier, but that was quickly hidden by the fedora he placed on his head, and your eyes caught the light of his round glasses, as they glinted in the dying light of the cloud-smothered sun, before he turned his shiny heel and strode down the street, seemingly not at all worried about slipping on patches of icy, packed snow.

What caught your eye the most, though, was how insanely tall this man was, and you figured – even at your tall height – that the top of your head would barely reach his nose, even on your tiptoes.

(Though, there was always the option to jump up and collide your forehead with his – if the need arises, of course.)

Unfortunately for you, however, this lanky ladder of a man was crossing the street.

Right towards the café.

Right towards you.

And you were basically turned in your seat to stare the demons out of this guy.

The brim of his hat began to raise, and you practically spun on the spot, the tea in your mug sloshing about, and you came face to face with your aunt, who had clearly seen the one-sided staring match you had had with the stranger.

Feeling the eyes of the man boring into the side of your temple, as you assumed he had seen you move at the speed of light to avoid looking at him, you smiled sheepishly at Agnes, who was not-so-subtly darting her eyes between the two of you.

A few seconds ticked on by at the speed of a snail, and it wasn’t until you aunt muttered a ‘He’s gone’, that you felt yourself deflate in relief, slumping in your chair as you gingerly put the mug in your hands back down on the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the back of the man’s trench coat as he carried on down the street out of sight, and you faced the woman in front of you.

“Sooo,” she began as she tried to hide the growing smile on her face. “Who’s that?”

“No clue.” You stated bluntly, eager to move the conversation along, lest your aunt turned into one of the women in your village, who would talk non-stop about their sons and grandsons when they found out you weren’t being courted. Or they would pester your mother about it. Either way, getting married was definitely not on your bucket list – and you wouldn’t be surprised if that lasted your whole life – you were quite satisfied with the thought of surrounding yourself with cats instead.

“Oh nuh-uh.” Agnes deadpanned, wagging a finger. “You don’t get to prod at me about men and not let me retaliate. Besides, Mr ‘No-Clue’ seemed an awfully pretty lad~”

You huffed. “Well I wouldn’t know, I’ve only clearly seen the back of his head, and according to Mr Durham,” you explained, lifting your hands to count on your fingers. “His name could be either David, Jeff, Al, Brian, or Ol’ Timmy.”

She raised a brow at you. “He looked like a David. Either way.” She smirked. “Your mum wouldn’t mind having someone like him as her son-in-law.”

You pouted. “Agnes, please.”

All your aunt did was laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gonne be uploading some art of MC soon >:))))

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 4!!

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