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#like i have a good reason but i think i’m catastrophizing

cherry-leclerc · 7 months

Text

lolita ☆ cs55

genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature

word count: 14.9k

You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).

cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY.

She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground.

He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.

But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began.

Where Paradise met Hell.

Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.

They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew.

You liked them older.

Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.

And that’s a story for later.

Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.

Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.

And your older sister, Ollie?

Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one.

Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.

Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good.

Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped.

“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.

“Papi, how are you?”

Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.

“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”

You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?

You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.

Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.

Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?

“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”

Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”

Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.

Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.

“I am so, so, sorry.”

Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume.

Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down.

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”

Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”

Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between.

“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”

Wait.

“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”

No, no, no.

“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”

Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?

What was so fucking special about her?

Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man.

Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest.

“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you.

It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that.

Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze.

“How’s school?”

Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”

The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming.

Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain.

“What do you do for work?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.”

You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair.

“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”

Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”

“I might.”

Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”

You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.

You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities.

Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”

He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.

“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”

He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”

It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over.

“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”

“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”

7 years.

Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”

“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”

Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again.

“Forget it. How would I know?”

Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless.

Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.

Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.

“Not having fun?”

Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.

“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.

“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night.

“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights.

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.

Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.”

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”

“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”

He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it.

“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”

Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.

The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”

“Nothing that should concern you.”

His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.

“Right. Have a good night.”

Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all.

So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.

Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place.

“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”

“Ouch.”

Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.

Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be.

“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”

Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke.

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you.

Fuck her, honestly.

“Why’d you propose?”

He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?

“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware - and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”

Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults?

He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words.

You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you.

Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”

“You should leave.”

You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff.

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought.

He’s fucked.

The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along.

“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room.

It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back.

Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you.

The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight.

His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete.

His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion.

Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps.

“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law.

“What are you doing up so late?”

Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs.

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns.

“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”

And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes.

His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly.

“You know what you remind me of?”

You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips.

“A Lolita.”

A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin.

The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.

A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home.

More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce.

Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?”

Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up.

“Why’d you do it?”

Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue.

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-

His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.

He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello.

“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”

His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips.

“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”

Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.

“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.

Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling.

“Take care, Carlos.”

It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.

“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”

You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”

Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”

The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.

“What are we talking about?”

“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.

“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”

Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”

“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”

Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other.

“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”

“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.

Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular.

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”

Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.

“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”

You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience.

But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?

She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away.

“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”

We probably shouldn’t-

Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.

“You and him…”

She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.”

“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.

But now you did.

“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”

Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.

Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.

“How are we all doing?”

They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.

Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.

Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.

“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”

Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”

You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”

Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”

“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”

“He won’t believe you…”

She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”

“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”

Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you.

“Are you okay?”

Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.

“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”

“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this?

You hated her.

You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.

Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.

“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”

You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.

“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”

“Thank you,” you blush.

Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”

“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”

“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”

Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”

Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?

“I always find you alone.”

You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.”

“Ah. I see.”

You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”

“You were thinking of quitting?”

He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.

Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow.

“Want to dance?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”

“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”

Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”

His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.

“Mentirosa.”

“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully.

The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…

His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap.

Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie.

He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely.

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.

“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.”

He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins.

Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches.

“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”

Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.

As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast.

“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.”

True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps.

“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”

Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red.

Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.

“Boo!”

“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”

“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.

“You’re fucked up.”

Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.

“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”

He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”

Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.

Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.

“Fucking delicious.”

Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.

“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action.

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”

Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.

Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.

“Do you-”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”

If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it.

His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.

“How about mine?”

He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you.

He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.

You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.

“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”

Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss.

“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”

“You know it’s always been for you.”

With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.

“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”

His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”

Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out.

“Let’s start off with something else then.”

You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place.

“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”

“Yes.”

His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck.

Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria.

“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.

And that was only going to multiply.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”

No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.”

His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.

He adds a fourth digit.

“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride.

“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”

He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax.

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.

This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening.

Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.

Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.

Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.

Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.

His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser.

Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.

The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins.

Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips.

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release.

Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more.

Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths.

“Will you fuck me now?”

You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”

In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.

First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.

I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.

Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.

“Oh God.”

Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.

“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment.

Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets.

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.

“Does that feel good, bonita?”

Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours.

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”

You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear.

He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.

“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”

It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex.

Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.

He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-

“I will.”

When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”

Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.

“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”

There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.

You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.

You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.

“Nice ceremony.”

“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”

He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right?

The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.

Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.”

“Good to know.”

“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”

“Like you care.”

She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”

No.

“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”

It can’t be.

Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”

She knows. He told her. And they still got married.

“Ollie, don’t…”

Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.

“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”

Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”

Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by.

Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.

You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.

“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?”

Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.

“Carlos!”

Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake.

“Coming.”

Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.

“¿Bonita?”

Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?

Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists.

As red as your dress.

He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.

“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey. C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.

“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.”

But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore.

A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene.

None of it mattered anymore.

5K notes · View notes

feyburner · 23 days

Note

In ur version, does Batman or Superman even approve of Kon and Tim being together?

Lol sorry I’m sure you intended this as an art prompt but instead I used it as a silly little writing exercise.

Clark Kent (Daily Planet) »

Hi! Do you have a moment to chat?

« Bruce Wayne

That depends.

Clark Kent (Daily Planet) »

On what?

« Bruce Wayne

On the subject matter, Clark Kent, Daily Planet Reporter.

Clark Kent (Daily Planet) »

Shoot. hang on

Superman (Justice League) »

Hi! Do you have a moment to chat?

« B

How many times a day does that happen

Just tell me. I can take it

Superman (Justice League) »

Not… that many…

« B

How many records are we scrubbing.

This week.

Superman (Justice League) »

Listen

You are the one who chose to make secret phones that are identical to normal phones

I don’t know what you were expecting

« B

It’s precautionary. In case they get lost.

They’re not identical. The Batcell’s haptic interface hardware is superior to the iPhone’s.

Slightly bigger too.

0.3mm.

Superman (Justice League) »

I’ll refrain from the obvious comment

But know I am thinking it

« B

So there’s a visual difference.

You have x-ray vision.

Superman (Justice League) »

If you think I’m going to x-ray my phone to figure out if the haptic interface software is 0.3mm larger than an iPhones every single time I need to send a text you are nuts

That’s you

« B

Learning memes are we.

Superman (Justice League) »

That’s not a meme. It’s a reaction image

I think

« B

Doesn’t a reaction image have to be sent in reaction to something? By definition?

Superman (Justice League) »

I dont know.

« B

I don’t either.

Superman (Justice League) »

Okay.

« B

You said you wanted to chat?

Superman (Justice League) »

Yes

And let me just preface this with:

I am about to tell you something and I need you to be, with all due respect, so normal about it

« B

Jesus fucking Christ, what happened?

Superman (Justice League) »

Nothing!! bad

Nothing bad

« B

Where are you? Can you call?

Superman (Justice League) »

Ok calm down, I’m fine, everything is fine

I can theoretically call but I think this is the kind of thing you’re going to want to sit with, on your own, for a second

Maybe 30 full seconds actually. Maybe sit for 30 full seconds before taking any action

« B

Kal El, I am catastrophizing at the speed of sound.

Superman (Justice League) »

Then I bet it will be such a huge relief to learn that all Im going to say is I have it on good authority that Superboy has something to tell you, and normally I would never breach his trust like this, but again: I cannot emphasize enough that I need you to be so, so normal. When he tells you. Which I have reason to believe he will, imminently

« B

Alfred has just informed me that Superboy is on the doorstep.

On the doorstep, Kal.

Of my home.

Superman (Justice League) »

Huh!

« B

He’s asked to speak with me in the parlor.

“In the parlor.” Quote.

I forgot we had one of those.

What is this.

Superman (Justice League) »

Well

I think there’s a chance Kon is about to be very, very brave, to your face

And—keep in mind I’m saying this as someone who thinks the world of you and has boundless trust and faith in your ability to be kind, selfless, and accepting—

If he doesnt leave that house with a smile on his face and a spring in his step I will ruin your life.

« B

Jesus.

I know you’re only threatening me because of that, thing I said. Last time.

And yet, it’s still effective.

Superman (Justice League) »

« B

Yeah.

Superman (Justice League) »

Yeah?

« B

Yeah.

Superman (Justice League) »

« B

I have to go meet your kid. “In the parlor”

Superman (Justice League) »

Be nice :)

« B

I will.

I know what he’s going to say anyway.

Superman (Justice League) »

Oh?

« B

He, and coincidentally also Robin, needs to work on his situational awareness.

With an emphasis on remembering to scan the environment for CCTV cameras.

Superman (Justice League) »

Ok to be fair there are a lot of cameras these days

« B

The incident in question took place on the rooftop of Wayne Tower.

Superman (Justice League) »

I see.

« B

Yeah.

Superman (Justice League) »

Yeah.

Unrelatedly are you coming over later?

« B

So you can ruin my life?

Yes.

Superman (Justice League) »

See you then :)

« B

Yes.

Wait.

It’s not weird now that…?

Superman (Justice League) »

Holidays may get awkward but I’m sure we will all cope.

« B

Okay.

Superman (Justice League) »

Tell Kon I said hi!

« B

I will.

« B

Hey it’s Batman. I fucked up.

Superman (Justice League) »

What??

« B

Not with Kon’s thing. That went fine. But we kept talking and I mayh ave let something slip and I’d liek to apologize in advance bc I htink he’s on the way

Superman (Justice League) »

Kons at my window???

« B

Sorry.

Superman (Justice League) »

I will ruin your life!!!!!

« B

Nuts.

#feyburner ask

672 notes · View notes

magics-neptunes-things · 6 months

Text

Lucky Charm

Hi guys!

A new one with Kyra Cooney-Cross, I got sweet request for her so here it is :)

Next one will be with Leah Williamson.

Enjoy!

TW : None

This dating app thing was the worst idea. Beth told you, Lia told you, Kyra told you. Even Leah told you it was bullshit. But, stubborn and a little desperate, you decided to give this guy a chance. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

Contrary to what you had imagined at first, this boy seems actually interested only in the idea of returning home with you. And not to play Fifa. The remarks he tried to slip were as subtle as Katie’s two-legged tackle.

When he left to go to the bathroom, you are quick to send a message in the Arsenal's WhatsApp group.

From You Next time I don’t listen to you, please hit me hard in the head.

From Lia 🇨🇭🍫 Is he that bad?

From You Yes.

From Leah ❤️🤍 On a scale of 1 to 10?

From You 10. I NEED to get out of there.

From Alessia 🧸 What can we do to help you? Wait I’m with Kyra, we call you in 5min and answer with the speaker xx

Surprise, you frown but answer a simple ok. Your date has returned from the bathroom and is picking up the talking where he left it. It’s hard for you to care, despite all your good will. You are the type to think that there is something good in everyone, but right now you are frankly struggling.

"You marked on your profile that you are interested in women and men, right?"

"Mhm" you answer simply, carrying your soon empty glass to your lips.

"Cool. You’re not against a threesome then?"

You almost choke in your glass to this question, but you are saved from having to answer by your phone which vibrates on the table. Despite the relief of seeing « Kyra 🦘 » appear on your screen, you try to look surprised.

“Hello?”

You pick up and put the speaker on, as Alessia asked.

“Y/N?” makes Kyra’s trembling voice.

“Yes? What’s up sweety pie?”

“He…He left me.”

You stick your hand on your mouth to simulate the surprise but it's mostly used to mask your fun. Even if Kyra plays the comedy pretty good, you’re sure that she and Alessia are having a great time.

“Oh my God… You want me to pick you up? No you know what, I’m coming!”

Without taking the time to hang up, you quickly gather your things and put on your coat apologizing to your date. Which has a bitter look displayed on the face.

“I’ll call you back?” he says while trying to grab your hand

“Yeah sur”

You don’t even look at him and hurry out of the restaurant, breathing the fresh and cold London's air. The mixed laughter of Alessia and Kyra can be hear from your phone, making you smile.

"Thank you" you say, removing the speaker and putting the phone on your ear.

"You are very welcome" answers Alessia between two laughs.

"Where are you? I'll come to get you" Kyra proposes.

You hesitate two seconds before accepting. Kyra is one of the reasons you’re desperately trying to find someone. Between your breakup a few months ago and your stupid crush on her, you’re having a hard time keeping your head straight. But you finally accept her proposal and you wait for her in a parallel street, not wishing to meet your rejected suitor.

Kyra joins you on foot, which doesn’t surprise you. She likes to walk and given your Icelandic origins, you don’t mind the cold. So it's walking, hands in pockets, that you take the direction of your apartment with small talk and laughs.

A small moment of silence settles after a joke exchanged, during which you look up to the sky to watch the snow fall.

“Why did you accept this date?” Kyra abruptly asks.

You shrug and bite your bottom lip. You don’t want to make stupid excuses. Kyra knows about your break up and about you trying to find someone. Your love life always make your teammates laugh and it's so catastrophic that you laugh with them. But she doesn't know about your crush on her. You know she isn't interested in you.

"You should be with someone who appreciates you for who you are" continues Kyra. "Not someone who just want to bang you one night and leave you the day after."

"What a langage. You spend way to much time with Leah"

Kyra roll her eyes and as you turn to the next street, you both are facing small wood house with cute decoration. Christmas spirit. You love it.

"Hello there" smile the old lady, working in the stand.

"Hello" you answer with a smile, already looking at her stuff.

"These are wristband lucky charms" she explains

"Interesting. Do you have one for someone who only attracts losers?"

You shoot a glare at Kyra who got closer to the stand with a smirk. She looks at you maliciously and suddenly her body is too close to yours for you to continue to look at her in this way. So you just shift your attention to the old woman who laughed.

"Lucky charms like that are called loved ones"

She winks at Kyra and if you could have observed her better, you would have noticed the redness of her cheeks. When she takes another step to see a little better what is on the displays, her body is so close to yours that you need a few seconds to realize that you have let yourself go against her.

But Kyra says nothing, caressing one of the lucky charms with the tip of her finger.

"I like this one" she whispers thoughtfully, before resuming in a more assured voice "I'll take it, please."

In a few seconds the transaction is completed and the Australian finds herself with a small bag and her lucky charm in her hand. You say goodbye the lady and resume your way back to your apartment.

The snow continues to fall and a new silence sets in, always without being unpleasant.

"And on top of that, it was with a guy" Kyra says, your date always seems to be on her mind.

You laugh when you see her disgusted look, rolling your eyes.

"It’s okay, they’re not that bad."

"Oh please stop talking, you will succeed in convincing me to change my sexuality" laughs Kyra with sarcasm.

"It’s not exactly like I have a choice anyway" you sigh softly.

A few seconds go by before Kyra answers you.

"You are wrong"

"What?"

Her voice is so low that you can’t understand what she’s saying. Sighing, Kyra stops and crosses her arms on her chest, standing straight in front of you.

"There are people who care about you, you know. For what you are. You just need to open your eyes."

Your eyebrows are frowned and you have trouble understanding what Kyra is getting at. You’re so lost, you didn’t even realize you got to the bottom of your building.

"Close your eyes and extend your arm"

Nothing makes sense in what’s happening, but you do as Kyra’s request. You find yourself shivering stupidly when you feel her fingers touch your hand when she passes the wristband she just bought around your wrist.

"Don’t" she whispers when she realizes you’re about to open your eyes.

You realize at this moment how close she is to you, you feel her breath against your face and the heat of her body radiate towards yours. You swallow hard, but you don’t move. Your legs have become so limp that you wouldn’t be able to anyway.

You have the impression of dreaming when Kyra puts her lips on yours during the first seconds, so light is the pressure. You quickly understand that it's to let you push her away if you do not want this kiss. But she is wrong to doubt.

You get as close to her as possible and that’s what she was waiting to presses her lips harder against yours. And you’re suddenly happy to feel her arms move around your waist, or you could quickly faint. What you’re going to say is probably related to the many love stories you’ve read in your life, but you feel like your lips were made for hers. The way they marry together is a sensation you’ve never experienced before.

It's Kyra who ends the kiss first. When your eyes reopen, they meet hers, inquisitors. Snowflakes have settled in her hair and the colors of the Christmas lights color her face when she speaks again.

"I do care about you. You have no idea how much I do."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney-cross imagine

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rowarn · 9 months

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I’m so happy i found your blog ;___; your soft simon/konig are literally a breath of fresh air like the other anon said😍💕 you write them so well and so tender and caring, they’re literally dream men tbh😮‍💨💕 what are yiur thoughts on how they’d be w a reader whose inexperienced?? both when it comes to intimacy and love in general (im thinking of a feral and skittish cat 🐈‍⬛ who mistrusts every approach and touch and backs away 😭) i always read abiut these men when they’re w a reader who is very sure of her self/sexuality and confidently engages w them (and don’t get me wrong i love reading it regardless!) but what abour when reader has no clue how to act/what to do and is kinda ashamed about it bc she doesn’t want to let her partner down bc she still possesses the v card🥴

(im totally not projecting 😭🙊 btw it’s totally fine if you don’t want to answer this!! wouldn’t want to overwhelm or cross any limits!)

HI MY LOVE IM GLAD UR ENJOYING MY STUFF!!!

hmmm i think both simon and könig wouldn't actually rlly say anything about sex unless you brought it up.

simons very perceptive, he can tell that you're a little shy and skittish about anything too intimate so he keeps his touches pg and simply follows your lead. he lets you guide the pace and he won't bring up getting his dick wet unless you do first.

if he catches on that you may actually want to properly discuss it (even if u don't flat out say it, again he can tell if somethings on your mind <3) then he'll be SO patient and soft with you as he listens. if you're embarrassed or scared, he'll do his best to reassure you that he's not some bumbling idiot who doesn't know how to make it feel good. and he's also not the type to really care about the idea of virginity. doesn't matter to him; he'll guide you and teach you everything snd he'll be so careful and sweet with you, you don't need to worry. he's not great with words but he does his best to get his thoughts across to put you at ease!!

könig wont bring it up bc he's kind of nervous. his thoughts sort of race when he doesn't get a black and white answer so when he notices you're a little skittish about him touching you, he goes thru 400 different reasons why and doesn't want to ask and scare u off by thinking he's some sex obsessed maniac (he's a pro at catastrophizing!!!)

will not ever bring it up avtually, you definitely will have to sit him down and spell out your thoughts to him. he'll noticeable relax in relief when he realizes you're not scared of him you're just....embarrassed?

unlike simon, he is pretty good with words. he blunt and gets straight to the point. he'll tell you that he's...big....everywhere and that he knows how to prep you so it won't hurt and that he would be SO careful if u felt like you were ready. he also assures you that it's nothing to be embarrassed about. contrary to simon, he does understand that some people view their virginity as something special and that if u want he can make it a rlly romantic evening for u!! it's up to u!!! just tell him what u want and he will follow your lead without a single thought <3

overall, simon isn't rlly the type to just jump into bed unless he gets the idea that you CLEARLY want to have sex with him. he's had his fair share of bedmates and he will definitely be able to pick up on any flirting. if he thinks you might not want to have sex, he wont say anything. he's a grown man who doesn't need to get his dick wet (: he's got his hand (yum) <3

and könig is.....könig. he's just happy to be here <3

I HOPE I ANSWERED UR QUESTIONS!!!!!

#ask #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #cod smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #könig smut #konig smut

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petitemistletoe · 11 months

Text

Mediator

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: smut and a little bit of angst!

Word Count: 2.7K+

A/N: a short one this time! but I absolutely adore this one so I hope you do too!

You can tell a lot about a person from the way they look when they drop off their kids in the morning. The afternoon is different, people have time to get ready to look put together in the afternoon, but the morning is telling. It was interesting to watch Harry Potter get dropped off every morning. His mother and his father were very different people in all cases but especially in the morning. His mother started work early in the morning, so the 7am drop-off was right on her way. She always wore something professional, some nice slacks or dress with a blazer or a blouse and a clean pair of heels. She wore a necklace, generally a string of pearls with a matching earring set, and a beautiful wedding ring on her fourth finger.

However, over the course of the past year, the wedding ring disappeared and a series of rings that matched her outfits took that place on her fourth finger. She always pleasant in the morning, holding a cup of coffee-or rather tea now, she switched after her divorce-in one hand and her son on her hip. Harry’s father was another story. No one was going to deny that James Potter was a gorgeous man, but to say that he was disheveled in the mornings was an understatement. He generally sped to the drop-off center, sometimes in his pajamas or workout clothes, or on one strange instance, in full quidditch kit complete the broom and goggles that made the workers at the daycare swoon. Sometimes he had an energy drink or protein shake with him and he usually was tugging a drowsy Harry along with him, apologizing profusely for being late. He still wore his wedding ring, much to the chagrin of many women who had their eye on the attractive actor. It was no secret that Harry Potter’s parents had problems despite the fact that James Potter still loved his ex-wife very very much. That why this particular visit to the mediator changed the everything.

“I don’t think I’m being unreasonable on this,” James said, arms crossed over his chest.

“You don’t think it’s unreasonable that I’m not allowed to have any adult I’m not related to in my house on my days with Harry?” You bit your lip and glared at your ex-husband.

“I have a compromise,” the mediator said, cutting off any of James’s smart remarks, “While it may be a bit extreme to ban all adults from your home, I think it’s very reasonable that any adult that is going to be around your son needs to be approved by the both of you.”

“Is this because of Remus?” You asked.

“Who’s Remus?” The mediator asked.

“A friend from work,” You sighed.

“Much more than just a friend from work.” James spat. This had all started when James had picked up his four year old, Harry, from school.

“Hey Harry, how was school?” James asked as he peeled out of the school’s parking lot.

“Good! Daddy I want to work in the ministry when I grow up!” Harry giggled from the backseat.

“Work in the ministry? Just like your mom, huh? You want to work in the department of magical accidents and catastrophes and solve problems?” James chuckled a little bit, trying not to think too much about you.

“No, I want to work in control of magical teachers.”

“Magical teachers? Oh magical creatures! Where’d you hear about magical creatures?”

“From Mommy’s friend Remus. He’s in the department of magical creatures and he helps creatures like werewolf and centaurs and dragons. I want to do that when I’m older!”

“Mommy’s friend Remus?” There was a ringing in James ears as he pulled up to his house. He helped Harry out of the car and lead him inside. Harry hopped up onto the kitchen counter as James reached into the fridge to pull out a plate of pre-cut and washed carrots.

“Yuckie. I want crisps.” Harry grumbled, pushing the plate of veggies away.

“Crisps aren’t good for you, you know. Especially not crisps like these,” James reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bag of sour cream and onion chips.

“Please please please please!” Harry begged.

“Tell me more about Remus,” James said, waving the bag in front Harry teasingly.

“He’s Mommy’s special friend. Yesterday he came over and made pasta for us! He spends a lot of time with Mommy now and sometimes he sleeps in her bed. Last week we went to the muggle movie theater and had popcorn and we saw Indiana Jones and it was so cool! Indiana Jones was like shoo shoo and he was running the bad guys and it was like boom boom and brah brah and-”

“You did great, buddy. Go crazy, I have a call to make.” James tossed Harry the bag and dialed the number the meditator that you both had used when you first divorced. He couldn’t bring himself to actually call the meditator though, it felt like crazy overkill. As the clock hit 7:30, James put a sleepy Harry in the car and drove him back to your place, prepared to have a nice, calm, conversation with you about your ‘special friend’ Remus. He wasn’t prepared, however, to see a tall, tan, drop-dead gorgeous, dark-haired man who James had once called a friend answer your doorbell in your short silk lavender robe.

“Oh James, you’re not pizza. Are you?” Remus laughed sheepishly.

“Remmy!” Harry murmured in his half asleep state, snuggling further into James’s arms.

“Been alright James?” Remus extended his hand awkwardly.

“Is she here?” James refused Remus’s hand and glared at him.

“Um, yeah, she’s here. Come on in.” Remus stepped back and let James walk into the house. He heard you humming as you walked out of your bedroom, only wearing a white button up that obviously did not belong to you.

“James? What are you doing here?”

“I’m dropping off Harry, bud go to your room. Your mom and I will be in a minute to tuck you in.” James set Harry down on the floor and watched him patter away.

“Why are you dropping him off now? You have to call before you show up you know that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“It’s not my fault you’re too busy fucking other men to realize what day you need to expect your son.”

“You’re supposed to drop him off on Thursday.” Your jaw was set.

“It is Thursday.”

“It’s Wednesday!”

“Wednesday? No,” James’s eyes darted to the calendar on the fridge and sighed, “shit.”

“It’s fine, James. Nico can stay here tonight, just go please.” You rubbed your temples.

“I’m not leaving Harry here with your man-whore.” James spat.

“That’s not fair, James.” Remus started but you and James both turned to him and said,

“Stay out of this!”

“Fine.” Remus said, chuckling awkwardly and walking to the bedroom to change.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t come to my house and use that talk about my friends like that.” You spun on your heel to face James.

“I’ll talk anyway I want to when it concerns my child.” James spat back, getting closer to your face.

“I, uh, I’m gonna head out.” Remus was standing at the door with a pair of pants and blazer that didn’t really cover his bare chest.

“Probably for the best.” James pursed his lips. Remus left and the only noise in the room was the sound of the door closing and a car starting up and reversing out of the drive.

“I think you should leave,” you said after a few moments of silence.

“Listen,”

“You know, James, that Remus only has mine and Harry’s best interest at heart. This isn’t some random guy, this is a man who we’ve known since we were eleven years old. One of your best fucking friends.” You said, trying hard not to raise your voice and alert Harry.

“Exactly. He was my best friend and now you’re fucking him.” James crossed his arms.

“You have no right to be jealous! We’re divorced!” You cried.

“Are you two fighting?” Harry asked, rubbing his eye and keeping a tight grip on a stuffed bunny.

“No, no, buddy. I’ll be in in a minute to kiss you goodnight.” You said, staying quiet until Harry made his way back to his room.

“No you listen here,” James started.

“No. Just go. Neither one of us are going to be able to say anything useful now. I’m just going to call the mediator and we can talk there.” You didn’t wait to hear James’s response, you walked back to your room and listened for the sound of the door clicking shut.

And that was where you were, sitting across the table from your ex-husband and trying to resist the urge to scream.

“You know what? I think it might be helpful for the two of you to go to dinner and just talk about what you want for your son. I think you’ll find that you both have Harry’s best interest at heart and hopefully it’ll help your relationship.” The mediator suggested. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at James.

“Well I’m game if you are,” James was waiting for you to say no. You weren’t one to shrink from a challenge, however, and you nodded.

“Sounds great. I like Italian so let’s do Bocellini's at 8. I’ll get a sitter.” You walked out of the mediator’s office, thinking about this dinner tonight. At 7:30, you were finishing your glass of wine when the sitter rang the doorbell.

“Hey you look nice! Do you have another date with Remus?” Lily asked, walking into the house.

“No, I’m meeting with James actually, not Remus. Our mediator suggested this.” You slipped your coat on.

“Oh, uh, this is gonna get awkward then. His car pulled into the driveway after mine.” Lily said with wide eyes.

“Shit. Uh, I should be back by eleven at the latest. Thanks Lily! You’re the best.” You ran out the door and stared at Remus, who was walking up to the house with a bouquet in hand.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed, “James is coming to pick me up in 10 minutes.”

“I wanted you to know that I’m in love with you.” Remus said with a grin.

“Okay great now get out!”

“Alright,” Remus started to walk away when something clicked in your mind.

“Wait!” You ran to him and put your hands on his shoulders, “you love me?”

“Yeah. I was going to give you this, but I guess you’re busy.” Remus tossed you a small velvet box. You looked in and saw an engagement ring.

“Oh Remus…”

“I know its fast and I’m not saying we need to get married right away, but I love you and I love Harry. I want to be there for the both of you.”

“Oh God, Remus, you have the worst damn timing.” You stared at the ring.

“Don’t answer now. Have a good dinner, we’ll talk tomorrow.” Remus kissed you before getting into his car and driving away. You barely had enough time to shove the ring in your bag before James pulled into the driveway.

“How’s Harry?” James asked as the waiter poured wine for the two of you. You and James had been silent the entire car ride over.

“Good. Career day is next week and I’ll be going but Harry wants you there too. He wants his big shot quidditch star dad to talk about touring with the Bats.” You said, taking a sip of wine and pursing your lips.

“Why did we ever get divorced?” James asked.

“Really?” You laughed humorlessly, “You don’t remember? You don’t remember the fighting and the arguments?”

“I do, of course I do. But…things were good when we were together.” James said.

“Oh my God. James, you can’t be serious.” But you knew that look in James’s eyes. He was reminiscing, remembering the good times. And there were good times, as much as you loathed to admit it, and the good times were real good.

“Come on, don’t you remember that time that we went to the beach to have dinner and I brought a bag of crab legs and we didn’t have our wands and we couldn’t open them so I ran over them with my car to try and crack the shells?” James asked. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, that didn’t work either. We ended up going through a drive-thru and getting burgers, fries, and shakes.” You giggled. “Those were the best burgers I’ve ever had.” James laughed.

“Would you make those burgers your last meal?”

“No, come on, what about that fresh penne a la vodka in Rome we got on our trip to Italy, that would be my last meal.” James licked his lips, practically salivating at the thought.

“Oh that was incredible. Almost as good as the tortellini we got in Napoli.” You grinned.

“Have you decided what you’d like to start with?” The waiter asked, interrupting the reminiscing.

“Uh, I’m going to get the penne a la vodka and…what about it, love? Tortellini?” James asked with a sly smile.

“I think that sounds great,” you smiled at the waiter. You hardly had a chance to try your food however, before James was carrying you into the bathroom, his lips on yours as your back his the wall. You snaked your fingers through his hair and moaned as he moved to your neck.

“Fuck James,” you gasped wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. His large hands went to your top, pulling it off and getting your bra off with it. He started squeezing your breasts and flicking at your nipples with one hand and shoving his fingers in your mouth. You held eye contact with him as you ran your tongue over the digits and you could feel him getting harder by the second.

“Dammit, love, I forgot how fucking hot you are.” He cursed, removing his fingers from your mouth and shoving them inside you.

“Shit,” you cursed as James scissored his forefinger and middle finger inside you while rubbing your clit with his thumb. You adjusted your position slightly and practically came right then and there as his middle finger brushed against your g-spot.

“Faster,” you moaned against James’s lips.

“Are you going to cum?” He asked, rubbing your clit faster. You nodded, your bottom lip coming into contact with his lips. He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth and placed more pressure on your clit until you came with muffled moans.

“You have another one in you?” James asked, unbuckling his belt.

“That’s up to you,” you teased as James pulled his cock out. He entered you in one swift movement and you swore you saw tears in his eyes.

“Goddammit I missed this.” He said, adjusting to the almost forgotten feeling of you clenching around him.

“Move, please,” you begged. You had missed the fullness that only James could provide. James started to thrust into you at a deliciously fast pace and you hoped that no one was waiting for the one bathroom stall you were occupying.

“Fuck, I forgot how good you felt.” James murmured in the crook of your neck. He fucked faster and deeper into you until you clenched around him as you came. James gasped and let out a strangled moan as he came inside you. You set your sweaty forehead against his as you came down from your high. He pulled out of you and tucked himself back into his pants.

“I’m gonna go order us some drinks,” James grinned kissing you quickly as you fanned your face.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you back at the table. I need a second to clean up,” you winked, James’s cum dripping down your legs. James walked back to the table and chugged his water. He looked down at his pant leg and saw that there was a questionable stain on it. He knew that you always had a stain remover stick in your bag and grabbed the bag on your seat, rifling through the purse to find it. He didn’t find the stick however, he did find a blue velvet jewelry box that held an engagement ring.

“Oh good, the food’s here. I’m famished.” You said, sitting down and starting to shovel the pasta in your mouth. James held out the ring and looked at you with a set jaw, practically spitting:

“What the hell is this?”

#James potter #James potter x reader #James potter smut #James potter x reader smut #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader smut #atyd #atyd marauders #marauders smut #marauders era #harry potter

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 2 months

Text

Another angst prompt, someone stop me from getting random ideas from crazy places.

17. Accident.

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy

@daboyau

Raph sits up in a panic. He puts his head in his hands to try to get a grip back on reality. The nightmares have mostly subsided, but every so often he gets one that leaves him unable to sleep for the rest of the night. Whenever this happens, he leaves his bed and goes to make sure the contents of the dream didn’t happen.

First, he goes to Mikey’s train car. Raph opens the door and sees him curled up in his hammock. A blanket is hanging off the side. He picks it up and wraps it around him. Mikey snuggles into it, making Raph smile before he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

Donnie is next. Raph makes doubly sure he’s not passed out somewhere in his lab before checking his room. He’s happily surprised to see him actually there for once. Raph closes the doors once and again and goes to Leo’s train car next.

His heart nearly stops at seeing the doors already open and the bed being empty.

He tears apart the room as if he’d find Leo under Jupiter Jim comics or a basketball. His brother shouldn’t be up about. The injuries he got are still healing. Raph’s brain finally starts working and he races off to check the other parts of their home.

Raph eventually gets to the living room where he sees glowing blue. Ever since that day, the one where he thought he allowed his brother to end his own life, he hasn’t been able to see it the same.

He’s unable to think about anything else when he sees the back of Leo’s arm and body partially sticking out. Raph grabs his wrist and pulls him back. The anxiety and stress he’s feeling gets to him.

“What are you’re doing!? Using portals again when you’re not even supposed to be out of bed!? Did you even think at all before you-!?” Something suddenly slams into his face.

He stumbles back, still not letting go of Leo. Raph uses his other hand to try to wipe it off. There’s….icing on it? Something crumbly….cake?

Raph looks back at Leo and immediately let’s go this time. His brother is trembling, badly. He’s clearly fighting back tears which means that Raph has messed up catastrophically. Leo only ever cries for two reasons, dramatic effect, and when he’s so upset he can’t control it.

Leo drops to his knees, eyes focused on the dropped pieces of food on the ground. The tears start coming. Raph’s heart shatters into a million pieces. Leo looks so fragile. It feels like he popped an orphan’s balloon then kicked his puppy for good measure.

Raph shakes off the rest of the cake on his face and kneels down.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! I can get you another cake! A better cake! You want a blue one? One shaped like a basketball!?” He tries to reach out, only for Leo to flinch.

Raph’s world almost blurts when he realizes what might be going on. He grabbed him and yelled so suddenly, did he….did he think he was kraangified again?

Or maybe he could just never fully trust him again.

He’d always be scared

Raph didn’t mean to be so rough. It was an accident. He was just so scared and worried. He didn’t want to lose Leo again. Maybe he already did in a way, though.

Leo suddenly starts crying a lot harder.

“I-I’m sorry! I just….I just wanted to get you that cake…..it wasn’t for me….!”

Raph frowns deeply. He didn’t know he could feel so bad so very quickly. It’s painful.

“Why….were you getting me cake?”

Leo’s tears drench his gloves as he tries to wipe them with his fists.

“Your birthday was two weeks ago and nobody remembered because you were busy taking care of me! You didn’t even remember! It was your birthday!”

Raph blinks in surprise.

Everything has been so busy for so long he could hardly tell what day of the week it is, let alone the date.

“….Leo, buddy-“

“And now I can’t even get grabbed without it feeling like I’m going to die because I got smashed into a wall! I hurt you! I saw it in your eyes! You think I’m afraid of you when I’m just a coward!”

“Leo, you went through a lot, this isn’t your fault-“

“You only roughhouse with me! It was our thing! You already feel like I’m going to break! And now you’re going to be scared that I hate you! Blame you! When am I going to stop taking things from you!?” He sobs.

Raph takes the absolute most care he can to be as gentle as possible as he pulls Leo into a close hug.

“You don’t. You don’t take anything. You give me so much. You’re here. That’s all I need. I’d trade every birthday, all the wrestling, even my bears to have ya. That’s a promise.”

Leo clings to him and keeps sobbing until he passes out in Raph’s arms. Raph lifts him up, placing his head on his shoulder. He takes him with him back to his room and sits on the bed.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He knows that things wouldn’t magically be better in the morning. He knows that his legs will cramp up and that he won’t be able to move for a long time.

It doesn’t matter.

At all.

Leo’s there.

That’s more than enough.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt #tw angst #rottmnt angst #rise fanfiction

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the-heart-of-a-monster · 5 months

Note

PUTTING THE NEW PAGE INTO THIS ASK AS WELL FOR GHE FIRST TIME BECAUSE THERE IS A LOT TO TALK ABOUT WITH THIS PAGE SO PLEASE BEAR WITH ME HERE

Ima start with the first panel because there’s already so much in that one single panel and it is gonna drive me nuts!

So first up, we have “Secret” Chaotix meeting room. Yes, this place is apparently being kept a secret from the public eye. This could be due to the Chaotix having to handle a bunch of super deep and disturbing cases that, if allowed to spill out into the public, would be catastrophic! Not in the sense that it would destroy the world or anything like that, but it’d certainly ruin their reputation as detectives! Don’t detectives irl have these kinds of cases too…? Or maybe I’m thinking too hard on this and it’s just the place they meet with their friends whenever Eggman does something stupid? Who knows.

I do know though that it looks beautiful and it looks like they’re actually in a room which, as an amateur artist myself, can only dream of achieving!! It looks so cool! I just… I adore your backgrounds and I can tell you put a lot of love and effort into making them, so please give yourself a pat on the back!

And maybe I’m reading too much into a single panel.

But that’s not all that we get to see!!! (No I’m not talking about the Chaotix even though I REALLY wanna talk about the Chaotix cuz they deserve more love and I’m so glad they’re here THANK YOUUUUUUUU) YEAH THAT’S RIGHT, SONIC IS FULLY CONVERTED TO DARK GAIA SONIC LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Well not fully converted, but we can clearly see that it’s taking a huge toll on his body! Not only are the markings now visible on him during the day, but it also seems to be siphoning his energy…? Kind of…? I mean, Sonic has been out cold since “Killing” Omega, and usually he wouldn’t be so out of it otherwise. And I can see a little tiny X over his Gaia eye, so… I’m not too sure, but what I am sure of is that this is BAD for Sonic. The poor guy is gonna have to deal with not only being corrupted during the day, but also at night, and that cannot be good for his psyche. It was bad enough when he had to be in a completely new body for just the nighttime, but now it’s for both day and night in its own way, and… Gosh, this is gonna be torture for Sonic once he wakes up.

Okay now onto the actually lore panels because there is so much to uncover but BEFORE WE GET INTO THE LORE PARTS OF ALL THAT LEMME JUST POINT OUT HOW PISSED SHADOW LOOKS IN THE SECOND PANEL BRO LOOKS LIKE HE WANTS TO PUNT CHIP INTO THE SUN FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER AND HE IS JUST SO OVERPROTECTIVE OF SONIC IT’S NOT EVEN FUNNY I LOVE THIS ANGSTY EDGY BOY SO MUCH BUT I WANNA KNOW WHAT IS GOING THROUGH HIS HEAD RIGHT NOW WHY IS HE GLARING DAGGERS AT CHIP WHAT DID THIS LITTLE CREECHUR EVEN DO TO YOU SHADZ

Okay back to the lore-

So, im still gonna call Light Gaia as Chip because I still see a cute adorable fluffy fairy in those big brown eyes and I think he deserves a real name. Anyhow, Chip now is aware of him being a literal god. He says he regulates the day and Dark Gaia regulates the night. This kind of makes sense. Chip handles the sun and DG handles the moon. Think Luna and Celestia from MLP. And similar to those two as well, Dark Gaia got out of control like Luna did and created an eternal night. But this doesn’t really explain the planet splitting into a million giant pieces. (Not literally a million) Nor does it explain Chip losing his memory. Chip claims that whenever one of them falls out of line, the other will be there to pull them back together. Does this mean Chip or Dark Gaia have lost their memory before? Have the events of Unleashed happened before? How do they reign the other in?

These questions are probably gonna get answered in the next page lmao what am I doing-

Everything else is kinda sorta spelled out to us which I think is a good thing, since Chip is, in the story, explaining all of this to a group of people who had no idea about any of this for their entire lives. The poor Chaotix just got roped into this, they just want their pay. So with that in mind I don’t know what else to really cover…? Maybe I’ll notice something later on and just start spamming you with questions, who knows. For now I’m SUPER DUPER EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PAGE LET’S GO THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN CANNOT WAIT FOR NEXT WEEK

hell yeah do look out for the new page on monday :3 i love ur little big analysis its always the highlight of my week to see one

btw this goes out to evecryone but the whole scene has a lot of moments for everyone else than sonic and shadow so we are winning

#fan lore #clover-the-awesomest #long post #text heavy #fan theories

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ohtobeleah · 9 months

Text

Red Light, Green Light // Mickey Garcia

Summary: For some reason you’d never know, yours and Jake personal Heaven becomes a check point for the friends you left behind. One by one the Daggers come through on their way to their forever life after death.

Warnings: Mentions of death. Car wreck. Instant death. Mickey Garcia Angst.

Word Count: 2.3k

Author Note: This is a spin off Series to Bruises. Masterlist Tagged below.

Bruises Masterlist | Life After Death Masterlist

Name: Miguel Garcia: Age: 55: Cause Of Death: Ejection from moving vehicle resulting in multiple catastrophic injuries.

***~***~***~**~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Who is this this time?” The brain is the body’s most mysterious organ. It learns. It changes. It adapts. It tells you what you see, what you hear, it lets you feel love. “Bob, Rooster and Phoenix have all come through.” You lulled your head to where your husband sat on the other side of the porch table. The two of you were enjoying a little wine and cheese pairing as the orange hume of the sun cascaded across the rolling hills. “Only Fanyboy, Coyote and Payback are left.”

“Hello?” Mickey Garcia would even go as far to say it holds the human soul at the very epicenter. But no matter how much research is done, no one can really say how all that delicate gray matter inside your skull works.

“Dunno.” Jake sighed, he couldn’t help but to squint and lean a little more forward in his chair to see if he could make out who was stumbling up the dirt drive. “You wanna go or should I?”

And when it’s hurt, when the human brain is traumatised, well—that’s when it gets even more mysterious.

“I’ll go.” You nodded softly. “I feel like we only just got rid of Tash.” It was still a touchy subject to say the very least. “Hopefully whoever it is isn’t as confused.”

“Wishful thinking Hotshot.” Jake teased as he cut himself another slice of Brie and placed it on one of those multigrain crackers he really liked.

As you walked down the driveway, you saw your daughter feeding her chickens, collecting eggs that had been laid and cleaning up the wooden house Jake had helped her build. It was her own mini farm. She was everything. You and Jake knew you had a rough decision ahead of you, to decide when she’d stop aging. But at what point do you decide another soul can’t continue to grow? When a figment of imagination stops being created. It was the down side to parenting in the after life.

Gravel crunched under every step you took and soon enough you were able to make out the curls that were undeniably Mickey. There was glass all over his shirt and shoulders as blood dripped from his styled hairdo. He looked good, like he’d just been out on the town.

He didn’t come to you like Bob in his flight suit or Bradley in his hospital gown or even like Natasha who was still in her pajamas. No. Fanboy looked like he was doing something special here—what exactly you didn’t know.

“So that’s it huh?” You called out to grab his attention. For a second Mickey looked around until he was standing still again, taking you in for all you were worth. “All the WSO’s are out of the race?” Fanboy didn’t look a day older than when you’d last seen him.

Fuck.

“This is such bull shit.” Fanboy huffed as he kicked up some dust on the drive like a petulant child who didn’t get the desert he wanted. “I had the right of way! That dickhead didn’t even look and I’m the one who dies!?” He pointed at his chest before he shook his head in disbelief. “I was coming back from dinner! I’d been with Becky and her friends and she stayed back and—“ It’s then reality kicks in for Mickey Garcia. He stills all the while his brain catches up with him. “Oh my god—“ It’s then his eyes met yours as they welled with tears. “I’m never gonna see her again.”

“You will.” You make sure to add before Fanboy can spiral any further into a depressive episode. “Come up to the house with me, there’s someone who wants to say hello.”

Fanboy linked his arm with yours and slowly he walked side by side with you up to the old but beautiful farmhouse that sat nestled amongst old oak trees and gardens that flowered all year round. He was mesmerised by its beauty—the tranquility of it all.

“I gotta say, it’s good to see you after all these years.” Mickey began as he tapped his hand over yours as he walked. “But I’m a little confused why it’s you of all people?” Mickey smiled at the chuckle you let out—god that was a sound he’d missed for years and years and years. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of you, or Jake for that matter. How tragic your story was. How meaningful your life was even after your death. “Not that I’m complaining, I just never thought it would look like this.”

“We’re just as confused as you are.” You explained softly all the while Fanbky caught the sight of a little girl playing with a few chickens. “But please don’t get me wrong here Mick, this isn’t the gates of heaven—“ You tried to explain the best you could. “This is my version of heaven, this is mine and Jakes.”

“Hangman’s here!?” It was then Fanboy started to look around as you got closer and closer to where you’d left your husband. When the dark curly haired aviator saw the panty dropping smile plastered across Jake's face as he came into vision, he took off running like he’d never run before in his life. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

There wasn’t a lick of malice in Fanboys tone as he embraced Jake in the biggest hug he swore he’d ever given.

“Hey man—“ Jake slapped Mickey's back gently as he hugged his old colleague. “I missed you, really.”

“You son of a bitch man, you just—one day you were there and the next you were gone and I couldn’t figure it out—“ Mickey was babbling, he was trying to explain how utterly heartbroken the team was after Jake's death. “I uh, I collected your things from the morgue, after, well, you uh—“

“You don’t have to say if Mick.” Jake added as he chuckled and sat back down. You followed, only instead of taking your own chair you gestured for Mickey to take a seat. You decided Jake lap would be more comfortable. It was. “Rooster kinda went a little AWOL after you died, so I went to grab your things and I saw that picture of Hollywood in your wallet and I just knew man—I knew you were dead long before you ever really died.”

“What photo?” You asked softly as you looked at your husband in the warmth of the afternoon sun. “Honey?”

“It was just some photo I took way back when—“ You saw the crimson hume creeping itself across Jake's cheeks as he went on explaining. Mickey never got to see this version of the two of you, it felt like a blessing, a chapter finishing on a high it always deserved to have. “We were all hanging around the pool table, it must have been like a week before we shipped out.” You never knew about this. “I snapped a photo of you laughing, god it was just the most perfect picture, Hotshot.”

“You kept me in your wallet?” How on earth had you never known this.

“Always—“ Jake replied without a second of hesitation. “You were my WSO.” It was the sweetest of interactions, the most loving of exchanges as Jake leaned in to give you a simple peak full of admiration. “Love you.”

“Why am I here?” Mickey asked as he flicked shards of glass from his shoulders. “Like I get I’m dead, which sucks so bad because I was about to get married in two weeks!” Mickey explained as tears welled in his eyes at the thought of leaving his fiancée behind. He already missed her, oh so much. “But like, why am I here with you two? And you’re kid?” Fanboy frowned at the thought. “Hold on, how do you two have a kid?” He was throwing out far too many questions way too quickly before you even had a chance to answer them.

“Okay first.” Jake started as he wrapped his arms around your midsection and drew you back into him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Jake wanted to see if Mickey was dying or if he was already dead. It seemed as though when Bob and Natasha came through they were still just barely holding on. Rooster though, he was dead as dead could be. “Do you hear anything? See anything?”

“I remember having the right of way at the intersection—“ Mickey sighed as he slumped in his chair. “Next thing I saw was headlights and then I was lying on the bonnet of my car down the road.” It was hard to listen to, but at least it had been quick. “I walked up the first driveway I saw.” You were waiting for Mickey to say he could hear sirens or someone calling out to him. But when he didn’t you knew then and there:

That he’d died alone, and instantly at that.

“Oh Mickey.” All you could do was feel a deep rooted sympathy for the WSO who sat in front of you. “I’m so sorry—“

“I’ll get to see her again, won’t I?”

“I hope so.” It was as genuine as ever. “When I first got here I could still hear Jake asking me to stay, but I just had this feeling he wouldn’t be too far behind me if I stayed here and got everything ready.”

It brought Jake solace to know you weren’t in pain when you left him. That was always his biggest fear. If you suffered or not.

“I don’t hear anything—“ Again it broke your heart, the poor thing probably didn’t even know her fiancé had died in a car wreck yet. “What do I uh, where do I go?” Mickey cleared his throat as he tried to hold it together. He still wore the ring his fiancée had given him to match the one he’d gotten her. “Do I stay here with you guys or do I just start walking and hope for the best?”

“Bradshaws with his parents across the hills.” Jake explained as he let his chin fall to your shoulder. “Bobs off somewhere in a music store—“

“Phoenix is at the beach house she grew up visiting with her family.” You added softly, still trying to be as sensitive as you could be. “So it just depends on where you’ve always pictured yourself.”

“So like, if I said I wanted to spend forever in the roller rink my Abuela used to take me to when I was a kid, I could go there?” Mickey asked all the while he admired the beauty that was you and Jake. He never thought he’d get to see this, the happy ending the pair of you deserved. It was all the closure he needed.

“I think so!” You chuckled. “I’m still not entirely sure how it all works, we don’t even know why you guys keep stopping by.” It was then a light bulb flicked up atop Mickey's head, he knew. He knew why.

“I do.” Fanboys eyes glasses over with a sadness you couldn’t quite understand. “You guys both took something a little different from all of us when you died.” Jake's hold on you got a little tighter—his forearms pressed against your stomach as he tensed at the thought of leaving his friends behind. “And they say you can’t move onto the next life if you have unfinished business.” It made sense, Mickey had always had a pretty open take on death and the after life. “But our unfinished business died before us, guess this is our way of getting to say a proper goodbye, close that open window you guys jammed open when you left.”

“Huh—“ Jake pressed his lips into the crook of your neck. “I never thought of it that way.”

“The brain is the body’s most mysterious organ—“ Mickey could hear the sound of rollerblades racing past. If he closed his eyes he could smell the all too familiar smell of roller rink hot dogs and buffalo wings. “This isn’t the last time I’ll see you guys right?”

“Nah man—“ Jake confirmed. “We’ll come visit, whenever you need us.” Silence washed over the three of you just as your daughter came racing up the porch steps. Mickey didn’t understand it—but he was happy to see it. “Hey Bug.” Jake pulled his daughter down onto his lap as well. His entire world in his very grasp. “How many did you get today?”

“Seven.” Mickey swore blind that girl was the spitting image of Jake Seresin. It was almost scary. “I better go put them in the fridge.”

“Go on sweetheart, we’ll be in soon.” Ellie Seresin didn’t blink twice at the man who sat across from her parents. Mickey would have introduced himself but sure enough, she was heading inside without so much as giving him the side eye. That’s when you told him the truth.

“She can’t see you.”

“How come?” Mickey asked, he was cautious not to sound too abrupt.

“She’s a figment of our imagination.” Jake explained as he watched his daughter through the window. “You can’t create new life in death, she’s not real.”

“But I can see her?” It was a hard topic of discussion even when it was just you and Jake. She was so real to the both of you. So genuine and pure. But you both knew, one day. She’d vanish. You wouldn’t need her anymore to help you heal.

“Because you exist.” Was all you said as you sent Mickey a fine lipped smile. “You existed in life so you see everything in death.”

Mickey Garcia would even go as far to say the mind holds the human soul at the very epicenter. And from what he could gather from what you and Jake had just told him. Little Ellie Seresin was just that. The very epicenter of yours and Jakes forever intertwined souls. And when it’s hurt, when the human brain is traumatised—

Well—that’s when it gets even more mysterious.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream

#bruises // jake seresin #life after death //#mickey garcia angst #top gun fanboy #top gun fanboy angst #top gun fanfiction

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copperbadge · 6 months

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Hi Sam! When you decided to go for an adhd diagnosis, is there a reason you went to the type of place you chose? I know you ended up having a difficult time with them after your evaluation. Did you go to your pcp first or try any other routes?

I’m starting to feel very heavily impacted by what I’m fairly certain is undiagnosed adhd, and I really want to try medication to see if it helps, but as I’m sure you’re aware, the process of making appointments is very difficult for one with undiagnosed adhd. Sigh. I’m wondering if it’s worth it to try and just make an appointment with my regular doctor to see if that gets me anywhere. But I know that doctors tend to be very cautious when prescribing, and I don’t want to bother with completely pointless appointments.

I just feel so overwhelmed when I think about trying anything else.

Yeah, I started working on getting evaluated in 2019 and only managed it in 2022, so I'm familiar with The Delay :D It never occurred to me to go through my primary care doctor -- I haven't had one for most of my adult life, because my insurance doesn't require it in order to see my specialist, and I just use a clinic if I'm sick. If you have a PCP you trust that's probably your best bet. You don't need to talk to them about prescribing, even, just talk about "I wonder if you have a recommendation for where I might get evaluated." You might even be able to get a recommendation without making a formal appointment. But if you get pushback on getting evaluated, then you can venture out on your own (more on this below).

I had a recommendation for a testing site, and I called a handful of times in 2019, but they never called back -- the desk person would say "Leave a message for our scheduler" and I'd say "Is there any way I can talk to a person? I keep leaving messages that don't get returned" and they'd say "Oh, they'll definitely return it this time" and that never happened. So by about mid-2019 I gave up and said I'd deal with it later. I started to research it in 2020, but then there was a global pandemic and I didn't want to be spending hours on end in a small room in a medical center.

And honestly, whenever I spoke about it to someone who wasn't a peer -- a parent, a doctor, etc -- I'd get a skeptical look and the response, "But you're so put-together and you're successful. Why would you think you have ADHD?" And I internalized that a little, to the point where I thought, yeah, I'm coping fine, it's not like anything would change other than maybe medication, why bother? Which...

That worked until it didn't, sometime in late 2021.

It worked until I looked at my life, which was not falling apart, and could see it fraying, and that if it did fall apart, it would be catastrophic. So my resolution for 2022 was to get evaluated. If it was ADHD, to get medicated; if it wasn't ADHD, to get help because clearly my life was not going as well as it looked.

So I just...sat down with an empty spreadsheet and I started googling "adult adhd evaluation chicago" (If you're not in a major city, I'd google your state or major cities nearby instead). Every site I found, I recorded the URL, my thoughts on the site, and their process for making an appointment. Once I had a list of places, I started "cold-calling" -- mostly via email, just reaching out to each place and recording the date and how I contacted them. When they answered, I recorded the date they replied and whether I responded.

The place I ended up going wasn't the first to call me back but they WERE the most responsive, and the first to schedule me for the evaluation (I did save the spreadsheet in case that fell through). They did a good job, more or less; I had struggles with them, but those were more to do with the fact that the woman who evaluated me already had one foot out the door and left my eval unwritten, meaning someone else had to take up the slack, which took time. And it at least helped to be able to say to my prescribing psych, during our first meeting, "Look, I have a diagnosis but I'm struggling to get the paperwork from them, and I'm really hanging on by a fingernail here." He gave me a much-abbreviated evaluation (basically a 20-minute questionnaire) and was able to prescribe for me that day.

So your other option is to just...find a psychiatrist who specializes in adult ADHD and/or ADHD medication management, make an appointment, and say, "I don't think I have it in me to set up a longform evaluation for this. I'm wondering if you can help me get evaluated and get some help." One of my goals was to get medicated but your overall goal is not medication -- the goal is help, and that just often happens to be medication. This isn't like, a trick to get a prescription or to manage a suspicious doctor (those have their place, believe me I know) -- your goal in getting treatment should always be to improve your life. But it's okay to want medication, you just have to want it in terms of improving quality of life, not medication qua medication.

So on the one hand, you sound like you need help, and you should work towards getting it -- but on the other, bear in mind that this sometimes just takes the time it takes, and keep your eyes on the goal. If you can be doing something, do it, and if you can't, then don't feel guilty that you can't.

Good luck :)

#sam has adhd #adhd

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keelywolfe · 7 months

Text

Just because a twitter chat got me thinking that as hilarious as Crowley is in the pub scene, it's funnier to think Aziraphale would truly be the jealous one. Crowley is more amused by humans trying to chat him or the angel up, what does he care, what, after 6000 years one of them is suddenly going to fall for a bad pickup line or a free drink? Aziraphale just has a possessive side and if he were the one to catch someone in his seat at the bar, I can just hear him in that ice-cold voice he can get:

“I beg your pardon, you appear to be in my seat.”

Crowley glanced up at him and his visible amusement did not soothe any of Aziraphale's irritation. “Hey, angel, this is Roy. He’s—“

“Mm, yes, I’m sure he is. My seat, please.”

The urge to miracle a catastrophic failure to the integrity of Roy’s Pilsner glass was itching at Aziraphale’s fingertips. He was almost disappointed when he showed an unexpected good sense and stood up, drink in hand. “Well. It was lovely chatting.”

Crowley gave him a wide smile with an unnecessary amount of teeth. “Right. Anytime.”

Aziraphale stared at Roy with half-closed eyes and a tight-lipped smile that said anytime should be as close to never as humanly possible.

In a show of remarkably poor survival instinct, Roy gestured to the table as he stood at a scrap of paper Aziraphale hadn’t noticed as his full attention had been on glaring at their uninvited guest. “You’ve got my number. Give us a call, anytime.”

Perhaps it was the increase in heat of Aziraphale’s stare that had Roy making a hasty retreat. Aziraphale stalked to his side of the table and sat in his, HIS chair with enough force that the wood groaned ominously.

Crowley propped his chin on one hand, a truly unholy amount of glee visible in his eyes even through the dark tint of his glasses. “Happy now, angel?”

“Not as much as you,” Aziraphale hissed. He took a sullen sip of his drink, hardly able to appreciate the crisp dryness of the sherry.

The way Crowley pressed a hand to his chest in a mocking gesture of offense did nothing to improve his mood. Honestly, what had started as a lovely outing had quickly became a rather unpleasant affair. He was tempted to simply leave in a huff and realized unhappily that he wasn’t entirely certain Crowley would follow him. He might stay just to be contrary, leave Aziraphale waiting by the car while he sat and finished his drink and perhaps someone, perhaps that Roy would come back and sit himself across from Crowley again and—

“Angel.” That single word broke through his wildly spiraling thoughts. There was amusement, yes, but also a certain well-known and well-loved tenderness couched in that single word that had always held more weight than a simple description. “I’d bet you’ve no idea how gorgeous you are when you’re terribly jealous.”

“I’m not…I would never…” Aziraphale sputtered. He gulped down the rest of his drink, terribly uncouth, but it was the only way to cover his floundering. After a hasty gathering of his thoughts, he set his glass firmly down and said with equal firmness, “I was not jealous, I was simply irritated at that terrible person’s manners.”

“Irritated.” Crowley repeated, one side of his mouth rising, widening his smirk.

“Yes,” Aziraphale agreed stoutly. “I was not jealous. Jealousy implies that I don’t trust you and I like to think I’ve been successful in establishing otherwise. I trust you and I have done for some time now, there is no reason or excuse for any jealousy.”

The amusement coloring Crowley’s expression began softening before Aziraphale was halfway through his little speech and by the time he was finished, it was fully transformed to fondness and. And love, Aziraphale could call it that now, if he wanted. He could, he was allowed, there was no one who could stop him.

“Not a doubt in my mind that you trust me,” Crowley said simply. That tight little knot that had formed in Aziraphale’s chest the very moment he’d seen that man in his seat unraveled, easing an ache he’d hardly realized was there. “The rest of the world, now,” Crowley continued, tossing back the last of his drink, “That lot can’t be trusted in the slightest.”

Aziraphale didn’t think Crowley was entirely right about that but a glance around the pub revealed entirely too many looks being sent Crowley’s way and also a somewhat astonishing, and disconcerting, amount being cast his as well.

Crowley shifted in his seat, preparing to stand, “Another drink, angel?”

“No!” Aziraphale blurted and snatched hold of Crowley’s hand. They weren’t quite accustomed to such gestures yet, enough that he could feel Crowley’s surprise in his grip, and also his pleasure. “No. Not yet. Please. Let’s just sit for a while, can we?”

Silly, really, he could use a miracle to keep Crowley’s chair empty while he was at the bar. But he knew full well it wouldn’t stop a very determined human and simply the thought of another person trying to toss their hat into his and Crowley’s very private ring made him feel cross.

The hand in his own, cool and soft, despite his demonic nature Crowley always felt soothingly cool, tightened, fingers lacing between his own.

“Anything you want, angel.” A thumb skirted over Aziraphale’s knuckles, back and forth, and he didn’t bother holding back his pleased sigh. “Anything at all.”

No one noticed a tiny scrap of paper in the middle of their table igniting and turning to a curl of ash, and even if they had, not a one of them would have known it wasn't the demon's doing.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #keelywolfe

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softshrimpy · 10 months

Text

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Step 11: Realizations

Summary: Working at the Weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

Y'all wanted the Larissa pain and I bring you Larissa pain. Enjoy. Also again, pls send all the love to the now co-author of this series @misssmephisto 🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay @kimiinou @muffintopxs @h-doodles @bbykens @lilfartbox1 @bigolgay @winterfireblond @gela123

(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)

Chapter 10

Cross Posted on AO3 here

HWTAHP Masterlist

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Larissa had fucked up.

She knew she had the moment she’d ended her bullshit-filled tirade. Knew when you had run out of her office sobbing.

And she sure as shit knew right now.

She had been sitting at her desk, re-reading the same email for what had felt like the hundredth time when she’d gotten a call from Marylin. She was confused, it was the middle of the night. She answered the call, a deep sense of dread chilling her to the bone as she did so.

“Larissa? I-I saw your girlfriend running into the woods and-and I was worried so I followed her but- she’s been attacked, Larissa. I don’t-I don’t know if she’ll make it I-“ Marylin rushes.

Larissa can’t breathe, she’s no longer listening to Marylin. Her hands are shaking and she feels like she might throw up. She brings one hand to cover her mouth, the other gripping her phone as if it were her lifeline. As panic gripped her, the words blood, ambulance and sheriff breached her mind from the device in her hand.

She’s the reason you were out there. She’s the reason you got attacked.

She was wrong. She was so so wrong. She was wrong and now you might die and she was so wrong.

She called you a monster.

Before she can even register what she is doing she has grabbed her keys and ran out of her office.

“Marylin” Larissa started, cutting off the tear-fuelled rambling of her college. “I need you to gather the staff and check on all the students and make sure everyone is accounted for. The school is on lockdown as of now, keep everyone indoors and safe. I’m going to the hospital, call me if anything else happens.” She instructs.

Before Marylin can reply, Larissa has hung up and is getting into her car. She drives frantically, not particularly caring what traffic laws she’s breaking. All she cares about is getting to you. You have to be okay. You just have to.

When she finally makes it to the hospital, she all but barges through the front doors. Rushing up to the front desk, the headmistress frantically asks about your whereabouts. She’s told you’re in surgery, you’d lost an almost catastrophic amount of blood but they were doing everything in their power. She’s directed to a waiting room and then left alone.

Larissa had no idea how long she had sat there, her eyes burning holes into the floor beneath her as the words, those horrible cruel words she spoke to you ran through her head. She keeps seeing your face, heartbroken with tears running down your cheeks. She keeps thinking of how this is all her fault, how you could’ve been safe if she had just listened to you. If she had just not been a royal bitch. If she had just had dinner with you.

She didn’t deserve you. After all you’d done for her, after all you’d gone through with her. She wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see her again.

But you didn’t deserve to be alone, so she would wait here until she knew you were okay. It was the least she could do.

——————

The clock ticked on, seconds becoming minutes, minutes becoming hours. There had been no news, and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Her legs were stiff, her eyes were stinging. She probably looked dreadful but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The once powerful persona of the Nevermore headmistress was broken, stuck floating in time.

She was glad to not have heard from Marylin. Hopeful that that meant everything was well at the school. She honestly wouldn’t have been much use if something was wrong anyway.

She was startled by a set of doors being flung open, her body fuelled with adrenaline, legs quivering with how fast she was forced upwards. She was even more shocked when three of her students came bursting through said doors. Enid, Wednesday and Yoko ran up to her and before she can scold them for being off school grounds during a lockdown, Yoko speaks.

“Is she still in surgery?”

Larissa sighs and nods, deciding she doesn’t have the energy to be the stern principal she should be. Sliding back into the seat beneath her, Larissa’s mind begins to fall back into the routine she had been stuck in for the past however long. However, Wednesday spoke six words that shattered the downward spiral the headmistress had created.

“Do they know she’s an outcast?”

“What are you talking about?” Larissa responded, her head turning towards the girl, curiosity leading her fast reply.

“She’s a vampire. We can explain how we know later but right now we have to tell them she’s a vamp and will be needing blood, well- more blood.” Enid explains.

“I-that can’t…how certain are you of this? We can’t just- she could-“ Larissa stutters.

“Just trust us on this, please. I don’t…we don’t want her to die.” Yoko pleads.

Shocked by Yoko’s outright display of emotion, Larissa nods. She gets up from the chair, her joints popping in protest. She strides over to the nurses' station, explaining your situation to them. She has to argue back and forth with them for quite a while before they listen to her. The terms legal guardian, family and medical records are thrown around in protest before the desperation on Weems’ face convinces the receptionist to ring into the surgery room. Before she can turn back towards her students, a nurse in conversation with the other receptionist turns in disgust at the piece of information Larissa had shared. Continuing in the direction she was heading, Larissa barely resists the urge to cuss her out.

Returning to the seating area, she sighs. A motion filled with exhaustion, regret and deep sadness.

“Can I get you three something to drink? I have a suspicion this is going to be a long night.”

——————

The four had settled back in the waiting room, this time on the two couches that were available. Larissa and Enid had gotten a hot chocolate while Wednesday and Yoko had settled on coffee (Larissa did not have it in her to try and get them to have something without caffeine in it.) None of the girls commented on Larissa’s appearance, which she was truly grateful for.

Breaking the tense silence they had found themselves in, the headmistress spoke, “Alright, so how did you three figure this out?”

“Well, it actually started when Wednesday ran overheard you two talking about (Y/N)’s nightmares.” Enid starts.

“I’m sorry what?” Larissa interrupts, turning to shoot Wednesday an accusatory stare. She expected nothing less of the girl, knowing her reputation but a sense of upset and surprise still struck her.

“I was investigating a potential lead in the attacks and happened to walk by your office while you two were talking.” She hums, taking a sip from her decidedly not completely shit coffee.

“Anyway, from there Wednesday was uh curious about what was going on with her…” Enid continues.

“I suspected she may be the person behind the attacks.” Wednesday deadpans.

Larissa freezes at that, swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat. She feels a strong stabbing pain in her chest. In an effort to distract herself, she looked down at her takeaway cup and hums.

“Uhm so yeah Wednesday did some digging. She was trying to figure out what made her come to Jericho in the first place, given the attacks started right around the time she arrived. But then Yoko came to pick me up for a trip to Jericho to go shopping and saw Wednesday’s murder wall and found it way more interesting than I did, it gives me the creeps.”

“A murder wall?” Larissa questioned, incredulous.

“So then Yoko told us about the way your barista girlfriend had a vampire smell. Furthermore, along with some information she learnt from Outreach Day and her behaviour over the past couple of days, I deemed it appropriate to enter her home and do some more digging-“ Wednesday explained.

“Wednesday Addams-“ Larissa hissed.

“And I found these tablets she was taking. I’d never seen or heard of them before, so I did some further investigation and it would seem it's a rather poor blood substitute, which fit Yoko’s vampire theory.” Wednesday continues, ignoring the blonde’s obvious anger.

“But she has no fangs?” Larissa murmurs.

“In more conservative places there was a practice where they would file down young vampire's fangs to make them more ‘normal.’” Yoko explains with a scowl. “It's archaic and evil.”

“Why…who would do this..?” Larissa mumbled.

“Well, that’s where Wednesday’s digging into why she moved here comes in. Turns out she used to live in this super small town literally in the middle of nowhere. Everything we found about it was not like outright ‘outcasts are evil and dangerous’ but was prejudiced enough to give me the super ick.” Enid offered.

“I see…” Larissa breathed out.

Larissa didn’t know how to feel. Actually, she did. She felt a deep, deep sense of self-loathing and shame. And above all else, she felt guilt. Guilt that made her stomach churn and her chest ache. Gods she truly didn’t know how she would live with herself after tonight.

The four of them sat in silence for a while, the three girls noticing their headmistress’s unusually upset demeanour and deciding it best to leave the queries, for now. Hours went by with no news, Larissa growing more and more weary as time went on. She had tried to convince the three girls to go back to Nevermore but had received a rather strong chorus of no’s in return. Eventually, a doctor came through the doors and called out your name. Larissa immediately stood from her seat and rushed over to her, her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

“I-Is she alright? Did she make it out of the surgery okay?” Larissa asked.

“She’s just come out of surgery, we’ve taken her to the ICU. The surgery went well, surprisingly given her condition, it was touch and go for a while, but after we started administering more blood things went much smoother. I can take you to her room if you’d like?” She states.

“I-Yes, thank you.” Larissa breathes, her heart calming just a bit.

She gathers the three teens before following the doctor to your room. The doctor warned the group that you were still asleep and still weren’t in the greatest shape, so they needed to prepare themselves. Larissa had to take a moment outside your room to steel herself. She needed to keep herself together.

When she entered your room and saw you laying there, unconscious and battered her resolve to keep herself together crumbled instantly. You looked so small and fragile in the hospital bed. Your face was so pale and you were so still. She let out a choked sob, bringing a shaking hand up to cover her mouth, feeling tears gather in her eyes. She hurries over to your side while scanning you over for injuries. You have several small cuts littering your face and arms. A deeper more noticeable cut on your head, and the skin around it is bruised terribly. She’s certain the brunt of your injuries are hidden beneath the blanket covering you from the chest down and her stomach drops just thinking about it. She drops into the chair seated next to your bed.

“When uhm-“ Larissa tries, her voice cracking, “When will she wake up?”

“Unfortunately, due to the extreme nature of her injuries we can’t be certain when she will wake up.” The doctor explains.

“Do you know that she’ll wake up?” Wednesday queries.

Enid scolds her, slapping her on the arm while Larissa squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t fathom a world, a life without you. You and your brilliant smile and silly jokes that never failed to make her laugh. And yet she threw that all away anyway. Hurt you immeasurably and for what? Because she was stupid enough to doubt your character, to make out as if you were some manipulative awful creature? She was awful, irredeemable.

“Principal Weems?” Enid prompts gently.

“Hm?” she responds, not taking her eyes off you.

“We’re going to head back to the school now. Do you need anything before we go?” She asks.

She shakes her head, thanking the three of them before they leave. And then it’s just you and her. She moves the chair closer to you and settles into it, kicking off her heels. She tentatively grabs one of your hands, squeezing it gently.

“I-I know that I-“ She whispers, her voice shaking. “That I- That the things I did- the things I said were- they were-“

She breaks into sobs then, squeezing your hand as she doubles over. She cries harder than she ever has in her life. She cries for what feels like eternity and she’s honestly not sure how long it truly was. Eventually, her sobs dissolve into hiccups and a constant stream of tears falling down her cheeks. She wipes at her eyes with her free hand, careless of the way her mascara smudges.

She knows this is the least of what she deserves. She deserves to be crushed by her guilt. She deserves to feel as though all the air has been sucked from the room, as though the weight of her callous words and cruel thinking will drown her. She deserves all the pain and suffering the world has to offer.

But she will stay by your side, ensure you’re taken care of and not alone. It’s the least she could do.

——————

Larissa essentially hadn’t left your side since that night. She had gotten Marylin to bring her laptop the first time she visited so that she could attempt to get work done while watching over you. She had admittedly gotten much less done than usual but was still managing to get everything sorted. After two days of Larissa not moving from your side she had a very entertaining conversation with Enid and Wednesday.

“Uh, Principal Weems, don’t take this the wrong way but uhm…do you think you should maybe uhm…well…” Enid tried.

“You look dreadful. You should go back to Nevermore and clean yourself up.” Wednesday interjected.

Larissa had stared at the two of them, wide-eyed, before huffing a sigh and agreeing to head back to Nevermore later that day to make herself more presentable. The two had offered to stay with you while she sorted herself out. She thanked them, taking the hint and quickly returning to Nevermore and taking a much-needed shower and changing her clothes. She made sure to pack a few days worth of clothes and toiletries. The whole time she was away she worried you’d wake up while she was gone. She worried you’d think she didn’t care. She didn’t expect you to want her there when you woke up, she would leave as soon as you told her to. She deserved your anger and hate. But she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if you woke up alone.

So she packed all her necessary belongings and headed back to the hospital, to you. When she arrived back at your room Wednesday and Enid were deep in a seemingly very serious conversation. She used the opportunity to get herself a coffee from the hospital cafeteria. The coffee wasn’t terrible, but it was nothing compared to the drinks you brought her every morning. You would always bring her the most delicious coffee in the morning with the sweetest messages written on them.

And she had the gall to say all your kindness, all your actions were nothing but an elaborate ruse? She was truly the most awful person alive.

She made her way back to your room, her chest heavy with guilt. When she arrived for the second time Wednesday was nowhere to be found and Enid looked like she was on the verge of tears. Larissa stood awkwardly in the doorway, clearing her throat to alert the young werewolf to her presence. Enid startles slightly, wiping at her eyes with the brightly coloured sleeve of her sweater.

“Oh Principal Weems! I uhm- She still hasn’t woken up yet. And Wednesday was here she just- well we…” she trails off, her lower lip quivering.

“Miss Sinclaire,” Larissa starts, pausing before coming to stand next to her. “Enid, I don’t know the intricacies of your relationship with Wednesday, but if you ever want to talk about it…”

“I just…” She sniffles, fresh tears coming to her eyes, “I really thought I-I was making progress with Wednesday and-and our friendship and her accepting that we’re you know actually friends. But then every time we have a moment or something she just shuts down and runs away. I just- I don’t know what to do.”

“Well,” Larissa starts, offering Enid a tissue which she gratefully accepts, “I’m not always the best with these sorts of things, goodness I all but ruined the one good relationship in my life… never mind that. With Wednesday, I think- she’s naturally closed-off but she truly does care about you. She may not express her affection in the same manner you do but I know for certain that she values you and your friendship. She just needs some time to figure out her feelings and figure out how she’s most comfortable expressing those feelings. So just, keep doing what you’re doing, but understand and give her time.”

Enid stares up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes before launching herself forward into Larissa’s arms. Larissa startles, glad for her tall frame for once. She tentatively wraps the poor girl in a hug. She holds her as she cries into her coat.

“You really are an amazing person, Enid, never doubt that.” She murmurs.

The two embrace for a while before Enid stops sniffling and takes a step back, she beams up at her principal.

“Thank you, Principal Weems, you’re the best…” She smiles, which then turns into a concerned frown, “What was that about ruining a relationship?”

Larissa’s face falls at that, all of the colour draining from it. She clears her throat and does her best to fight the tears gathering in her eyes. Turning to face your sleeping form, she lifts a hand up to play with her necklace, swallowing thickly. She opens her mouth to speak, to explain herself but can’t find the words.

“I’ve not been a very good person as of late…” Larissa whispers, “I hurt her, possibly beyond repair. And now she’s-“

She stops herself, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. It’s highly inappropriate for her to even be talking about this with a student. She really ought to-

“Well, I’m sure whatever it is that happened,” Enid says, “If you just talk it out with her and apologize then maybe it’ll all work out.”

Enid's hope is adorable, but Larissa knows it won’t be that easy. The things she said to you were unforgivable. She had very little hope of salvaging things between the two of you. She only wanted to make sure you were okay and you didn’t blame yourself for anything that happened, as you tended to do.

Enid leaves her alone to her thoughts and she settles back in the chair. She reaches over and grabs your hand again. She can’t stand the silence of the room, only permeated by the constant beeping of the machines. So instead, she fills the silence with her apologies. She cries and apologises over and over. And when she’s all out of apologies she tells you everything she wished she had told you before that night, everything she thought and felt.

“I love you…” She whispers shakily, “I’ve loved you for so long now. I- I will never stop loving you, regardless of what happens when you wake up.”

She falls asleep that night, holding your hand while awkwardly sprawled in the chair, hoping you wake up.

——————

Marylin visits quite frequently, much to Larissa’s confusion. She brings new flowers each time (which consequentially has left your hospital room looking like a florist despite the nurses clearing the room each night.) She watches over you to allow Larissa some time to stretch her legs and occasionally go home to shower. As she travels back and forth between the hospital and Nevermore, she comes to the conclusion that the reason for Marylin’s visits are because she was in essence the one who found you. She also constantly reminds herself that she has no right to feel jealous of whatever friendship you and Marylin may share.

Along with Marylin some of her students come and visit you. Yoko comes around the most, often not staying very long but checking on you nonetheless, occasionally leaving small trinkets with your still form. Despite not knowing the true depth of your friendship with her student, Larissa feels comfortable giving you two space when Yoko visits.

Enid and Wednesday were the next most frequent visitors. Often they came together, a good sign Larissa hoped, but sometimes one of them would come on their own. Often Enid would chat with Larissa, ever since they had their heart-to-heart a few days ago she found the young werewolf had deemed her someone she could gossip or rant to. Larissa didn’t mind, often she found she actually really enjoyed Enid's company.

Wednesday was the complete opposite. She would always come in, check your vitals and flip through your chart that sat at the bottom of your bed (Larissa had given up on scolding her for it after three days.) Then the dark-haired girl would nod at Larissa before slipping from the room, off to cause mayhem no doubt.

James had visited every day, often chatting to Larissa while he did. Larissa didn’t know how to tell him he should hate her, should be cursing her and being as cruel to her as she was to you, if not worse. So instead she took to making important calls just after he arrived. She figured he appreciated the time alone with you anyway.

On one rather strange occasion, Tyler Galpin had sheepishly knocked on the door of your room. He had glanced from Larissa to you and then stared at you with a hollow, almost guilty look. He had dropped off some flowers (adding to the ever-growing collection you now had) and then left. The entire visit had felt strange to Larissa but she didn’t have the energy to put into thinking about it further.

It had been over a week since the accident, twelve days to be exact. Twelve days of restless sleep, nightmares and uncomfortable sitting. Her whole body ached from being sat in the less-than-comfortable chair all day and night. Often she’d have to redo her makeup at least once a day (made so much easier with her shapeshifting abilities) on account of all the crying she was doing, despite feeling she had cried enough to fill the Pacific.

She worried you would never wake up. That one night she would fall asleep in that awful chair and wake up to the long unending beep of the heart rate monitor. And then they would take you away, and there would be a funeral and she would be completely and utterly lost without you. She worried you would wake up and quietly ask her to leave and never come back. She worried you would wake up and rightfully hate her and everything she stood for. She just worried.

Larissa never stopped speaking to you. On some days it was simply her telling you about the work she’d been doing or the latest update from Enid. Others it was her begging for your forgiveness. But she always made sure to tell you she loved you at the end of each day, regardless of whether you could hear her or not.

——————

It was the evening of the fifteenth day since the attack. Larissa was holding your hand with one of hers while she read a book she had been meaning to finish for months. She had taken to reading aloud, she found it helped keep her mind occupied and off of the crushing guilt she felt. She was halfway through the chapter when she felt your hand twitch.

She dropped the book, scrambling to bring her other hand over yours, her eyes rapidly searching her face for any sign that you may be waking up. Her heart was in her throat and if she hadn’t been holding your hand so tightly she would’ve noticed just how badly they were shaking. Her heart stops when your brows furrow, your nose scrunching. The beeping of the heart monitor beside you, began to speed up slightly.

“Darling?” she breathes out.

And then your eyes flutter open and her breathing stops.

You’re okay, you’re waking up. Everything is going to be okay-

Larissa’s back hit the floor, the chair she had been stuck to toppled beside her but she didn’t hear it fall. Everything was silent, the world had stilled. Her eyes were pinned to the ceiling staring at the fluorescent lights above as she began to feel a deep, burning pain in her neck. Slowly turning her head, she discovered the source. It was you.

#htwahp #larissa x reader #larissa x you #wednesday #larissa weems #principal weems

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maybeitsalivescribbles · 1 month

Text

I wondered what would happen if heroes were stuck in a town without villains, and this is the result:

The Fakers

At the Hero Agency, the open space was silent. The clock alone was ticking the seconds away, although they seemed more like minutes for the three heroes inside. Only their suits added a touch of color in the gray room. It was a sunny day, but their expressions were as stern as their office. Settled behind their laptops, they frowned, scrolling furiously and refreshing the live news stream. Sometimes, they asked each other:

“Do you have something? Anything?”

Since they all checked the same sites, the answer was always negative. They couldn’t help, though. They kept asking. Suddenly, Hero 1 yelled:

“Hey, come and see this!”

The others jumped out of their seats, rushing to them:

“Something new?”

“A robbery?”

“A kidnapping?”

“A storm coming?”

“No! A cat video!”

Well, it was better than nothing. Everyone pressed around the screen to see the kittens. One minute and a half of glorious amazement later, they all turned back to their places, sharing embarrassed smiles.

During the next hour, a phone rang in Hero 2's pocket. They weren’t allowed to answer them in the office, but it was a long time that didn’t matter anymore. Without showing it, the others listened rapturously to every laconic answer Hero 2 made. After she hanged up, another asked innocuously:

“Everything’s all right?”

She raised her head as if it weighted too much for her neck:

“Hmm? Yes, yes. That was my sister Superhero, from the capital. She just fought Villain in hand-to-hand combat. She’s fine.”

“Oh. That’s good, then.”

“Sure.”

There was a tense silence. Everyone went back to their computers, and jumped when she hit the table with her fist:

“Damn it, why am I stuck in this office? I’m a goddamn loser!”

The other heroes glanced at each other nervously and didn’t answer, but she wasn’t finished:

“I can fight Villains just as well as her! I went to the same academy! I trained just as hard!”

Hero 3 tried to defuse the situation:

“We know, Hero 2. You fought so well during Supervillain’s attack-”

“That was two years ago!”

“Because...err..because we made such a good job Villains are scared to come here now?”

“No, damn it! It’s because that city is so bloody little no one is interested in taking it over! No building to explode, no rich people to kidnap, and I bet the bank only has pocket change! Nobody cares about us!”

No one replied. She was right and they all knew it.

“That’s not that bad,” tried to plead Hero 1. “I mean, if we were in the capital, we would see catastrophes and dead people every day. Isn’t this a reasonable price for peace? I-”

Hero 2 turned to face them, roaring:

“What about the money, Hero 1? What about the fucking money? We don’t find a villain to fight, the agency will cut our salary completely, and the health insurance. Do you have another safe job in mind, in this economy? I think not!”

Hero 1's gaze snapped to the floor.

“She’s right,” said Hero 3 in his soft, low, sad voice. “My daughter will get to college next year. I don’t know how to tell her that I might not have the money.”

“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” asked Hero 1 mournfully.

“If we keep wallowing, yes,” riposted Hero 2, knotting her fingers together. “But the academy has taught us not to give into despair. There must be something we can do.”

“No, not we, that’s the problem,” interjected Hero 3. “We just – we need a villain.”

“You have a list, Hero 1, don’t you?”

“Yes. I know who are the closest to us, and what crimes they have done. But you don’t suggest-”

Hero 2 stood up and paced the room, stopping just to look at them:

“I’m just saying! We’re out of options. Not all Villains do a lot of damage. If we set a trap for one to come here, it’ll be a good action, right? We’d be stopping them. That’s our job. We catch one, we make them promise to stay in town and not to hurt citizens, we let them go, rinse and repeat.”

The two others exchanged a glance. Hero 1 bit their lip, but as they were about to talk, Hero 3 shook his head:

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know the harm we can bring into the city.”

“Think about your daughter!”

“Lots of people here have a daughter. I couldn’t sleep at night if I hurt one of them. I’ve not become a hero to do this.”

He crossed his arms, on the defensive. Hero 2 stepped towards him, with a pleading smile:

“At least let’s take a look at them. Just a little peek at the list. We have to inform ourselves anyway.”

Hero 3 grimaced, but he went along when the two others came to see the list on Hero 1's computer.

“Oh, look at this gal! Only specialized in robberies, lives only 50 km from here.”

“Nah, read ahead,” protested Hero 3. She killed one hostage once.”

“Okay, fine,” sighed Hero 2. “What about this guy? He didn’t do much. Just kidnapped the mayor of his town once. I mean, who can blame him ? The man is nasty.”

“Yeah, but after that he kidnapped his eight-year-old boy to make a point. Pass.”

“If you nitpick like that, we’ll never find anyone!”

“You call this nitpicking? Anyway, what would you do to make them come here? Write a letter? “Dear Villain, come to wreck shit in our town so we can be paid, please don’t denounce us, signed Very amoral heroes?” That doesn’t make sense!”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Hero 3 hesitated.

“Maybe we should write a letter to the agency,” he proposed. If our job is done, maybe they’ll relocate us to a bigger town.”

“Do you know the rent there?”

“Maybe we can replace heroes who were wounded or something to begin with.”

Hero 1, who played with their pen during their conversation, suddenly threw it in the air with an exclamation of triumph. The pen hit Hero’s 2 shoulder, who yelped indignantly and encased it in ice with a snap of her fingers.

“I’ve got it!” yelled Hero 1, turning towards their colleagues with a huge grin. “Replace, that’s it!”

Opening a file which contained their schedules, they pointed at the others, adding:

“Heroes, meet our villains!”

Hero 2 and 3 looked at their finger designating them and exchanged a glance.

“You mean... we turn evil?”

“Listen to me. We can’t trust Villains to do the right evil thing. But we do, right? We know this town. We never patrol at the same time. While one of us do the heroing, another pretends to be a new villain in town. We train between each other, so we’ll have no problem fighting for show.”

The room fell into a brief, stunned silence.

“Can we do it?” wondered Hero 2, griping her elbows. “I mean, we’re heroes. Do we have what it takes?”

“I’m sure we can be whatever we want to be, replied Hero 1 reassuringly. Look at your willingness to throw away citizens' safety for yourself! That was very evil.”

Hero 2 blushed:

“Aw, you only say that.”

“I mean it! You’d be perfectly vicious!”

“My, that- that means a lot. You too, you’d be a really good evil mastermind.”

“Aw, thanks. And Hero 3 here was ready to destroy our plans at every turn! Just like a villain. Plus, at the last break, he ate the next doughnut.”

“I didn’t mean it!” he gasped, turning red.

They all looked expectantly at him.

“Nobody is coming to rescue us,” slowly said Hero 2, smirking. “Sometimes you have to be your own Villain.”

Hero 3 sighed and crossed his arms:

“I can sew,” he mumbled. “I’ll make us new costumes.”

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist.

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buckttommy · 1 month

Note

Everyone’s losing it over Tommy potentially being at the bachelor party and I’m just here like it’s a good thing either way?? Like we get some super cute buck tommy scenes and we get buck and eddie being chaotic besties together and just living their bestest life. I know a lot of ppl were hoping for something to go down between buck and eddie or for them to think something happen to lead to feelings realization and maybe tommy being there hinders that in their minds idk? Personally I never held the assumption that anything romantic or explicitly suggestive would be occurring between buddie given that this is an episode about madney and delving into buddie non platonically needs to be a separate thing. But anyway, while I want em to get together eventually, I don’t want it to be like this personally and especially just as buck and tommy are building their relationship and buck is figuring out his sexuality it’s just icky and we’re talking about buck being on a hamster wheel, starting their relationship like that sure as hell wouldn’t get him “off” the hamster wheel

Man, I have such a big gripe with this idea that Buck hasn't gotten off of the hamster wheel yet. I know that's not the point of your message, necessarily—and I do get it, and agree totally with what you're saying—but I'm curious as to what it is that people want Buck to do to get "off" the hamster wheel if, in their opinion, he's still on it. I mean, perhaps it all comes down to the way we read and interpret these characters, and if that's the case, that's fine. But a fundamental aspect of Buck's arc is that something has been missing in his life and he's been chasing that unnameable thing for years. Part of it was the Daniel thing, sure, but part of it was also something intrinsic to him. Buck has been searching for all the pieces to his puzzle in all the wrong people (Abby, Ali, Taylor, etc) and kissing Tommy, awakening to his bisexuality, was that thing finally clicking into place (hence the double entendre "I am free" that everyone glosses over). So I'm just confused as to what else people would like for him to do.

One of the points I've seen people make is that Buck asked Tommy to go to the wedding with him, and, like. Respectfully (/srs)... so what? Lol. Buck is still Buck. Being bisexual and having a crush on a man isn't going to change that. He's always going to jump in headfirst to everything he does. Another point I've seen is that, he needed Eddie to tell him to call Tommy, which I don't really get either. Mainly because I understood exactly where Buck was coming from. If I thought I blew my chances with a hot guy I had a crush on, I would probably need my best friend to tell me not to catastrophize and give the whole thing another chance too. Sometimes you need those kind of pep talks and that's okay! Anyway, I just think that expecting immediate growth just to justify that Buck has broken that pattern, when it's pretty obvious that he has—or is at least well on his way—seems a little... something. I can't put my finger on the word, but I find it irksome nonetheless. Again, it probably has to do with how we're all reading/interpreting the character which is why I haven't said anything, but since you mentioned it, I figured now was my one and only chance to talk about it before I go back to yapping in my friends' DMs lol.

Anyways. Tommy at the Bachelor party. Yeah, I mean. I think it'd be a shame to have any "big" Buddie moment at Madney's wedding/during their wedding episode anyway because it'll immediately overshadow Maddie and Chimney's day, and I don't want that! 9-1-1 is an ensemble for a reason; we can give Maddie and Chimney one day out of the season, like. It's literally fine lol.

#jack answers mail #tv: 911 #If you guys start discourse because of this post reblogs are getting turned off and it's getting deleted.#Behave

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onthecrescentofthehill · 6 months

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g1deon and pyrrha + gideon and harrow throughlines scattered in all of tlt continue to drive me insane.

the initial investigation scenes post the 5th deaths where the 2nd house tries to pull cohort rank control of the situation, gideon & harrow immediately sneak away to learn that the winnowing trial was developed by the second house and cohort founders, g1deon & pyrrha. winnowing as incorporating the other, refusing distractions for the sake of true control, loyalty and duty.

gideon is wearing his sunglasses, rifling through their things. she doesn’t see it as a real place someone would live in, only a stop along the way to somewhere else, more whole.

she sees a gun on the wall that her mother's ghost will use the river memory of to try and kill harrow in the dream of cannan house:

It took Gideon a long time to realise that she was looking at something goddamn ancient: it was a blowback carbine gun. She’d only ever seen pictures. ….. The hairs on the back of Gideon’s neck had risen when the lights came on, and they hadn’t gone back down, as if her intrusion might well tempt time back to claim its grave goods. GTN chapter 19

Carbine rifle, read the key. For a moment she pitied Judith Deuteros’s last seconds. To be killed with this ancient piece of grave goods! It would have been like being set upon by a ghost out of time. HTN chapter 18

gideon reads "one flesh, one end" for the first time. she tells harrow these people were living in each others pockets, the same phrase she'll later use to describe the two of them. pyrrha spent nearly 10,000 years locked in a drawer in gideon the first’s mind bc he couldn't bear to let her go. gideon tells harrow how they feel like strangers despite growing up together.

harrow cant stand the thought and in less than a month harrow will lock gideon in a drawer and gideon the first will relentlessly try to kill harrow in her waking hours to spare her the agony he'll never learn is closely parallel to his, and when she fails to hear his real name her brain starts bleeding:

And he had said: “Ortus, have pity.”

“This is my pity, Lord,” said the Saint of Duty. HTN chapter 20

g1deon was john’s oldest friend, he carried that suitcase in his loyalty to him. then he becomes an amnesiac, immortal thanergy void, absorbing and nullifying the echoes of that catastrophe. founding the cohort that flips planets in the exact mirror to the ecological tragedy they all sacrificed everything to spare earth from. over and over again.

He didn’t even ask me to explain. That was the kind of guy he was. He and I had grown up on the same street. I’d spotted him for mince pies all the time as kids, so stands to reason he let me cut off his arm and carried a nuke for me. John 1:20

in g+p’s room harrow says that theyre all the ninth house has ( = you’re all that i have). gideon firmly says shes "NO ONE'S son or daughter"

but in less than a year gideon’s mother, sitting opposite her father, will recognize pyrrha with a sense of profound relief before her revenant is unceremoniously killed. gideon will watch through harrows eyes, in hiding:

Harrow, I will never forget the look on her face as long as I live, or as long as I die. (…) It was the smile for your old cellmate who’d just landed back in prison, the one that told them at least you were in it together—or more correctly, the smile of someone stepping out of jail after serving a very long sentence, having seen someone there waiting for her. Someone whose presence meant total reprieve, someone she hadn’t expected. It was a little bit mocking. It was deeply relieved. HTN chapter 50

i don’t have a conclusion to this rn i’m just……much to think abt. the displacement of grief, the loyalty through control, how it just happens over and over and over again and they just bear witness as tools or trapped souls or revenants, clinging to anything they can even if they don’t remember it.

#this is such a mess but i was getting spiritual indigestion turning it over at work. i need to quit and pursue tombposting full time #tlt spoilers #tlt #tlt meta #gideon the first #pyrrha dve #tlt txt

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