#I feel like she has a really loud mind but she can't express everything she's thinking and that's why she shuts down

[transpoettryinghisbest]

“Father was killed here.”

I touch his desk. I can still feel the same grooves and bumps in the wood that have always been there. The whole apartment is exactly the same as it was the last time I was here, nothing has moved an inch. Except for one piece missing. Something that I'm never going to get back. It happened so fast. I still remember his voice thanking me for the coffee, answering questions for that scary reporter. Then a thud. And he was gone. Just like that. In our own home. The same place I've been my whole life, the same four walls I've become so familiar with.

“It was supposed to be safe here,” I whisper.

“I'm sorry, Vera,” Trucy says.

I instinctively bring my thumb to my mouth and find the edge of my thumbnail with my teeth. I bite. And I remember the strange aniseedy taste. I remember ignoring it because I just needed some kind of comfort. Everyone was asking me questions, things I didn't want to think about, things that scared me. My head started to hurt. I thought it was just the stress, but my stomach started hurting too. I was sweating, the room was spinning around me. The room's spinning around me now. I think I'm going to faint. I make a whimper sound.

“Vera? Are you okay?” It's Apollo.

I want to tell him I'm not. But I can't speak, my voice has shut off again. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Here, sit down,” he says. “Just…just get your breath back, okay?”

“You'll be alright, Vera,” Trucy adds.

He leads me into Father's chair. I'm not strong enough to object so I take a seat. I think I'm shaking. Like I did on the stand. When everything started crashing down, when I started to wonder if maybe I was at fault. It’s my fault. Or maybe that's just what they think. Why do they hate me? Why do they think I did it? The paintings. I know what I did was wrong but I didn't mean to hurt anyone. The paintings are still here. They're always going to be here unless I remove them. Everything reminds me of him, of that trial. I can't escape it. I can't escape what I did.

“Apollo, she's completely shut down,” Trucy says.

I can hear them but I can't talk back. I feel locked inside myself. Like I was locked inside this house. Not physically, but still I was unable to leave. I was trapped. I wanted to be trapped. I was scared that someone could hurt me. And someone did hurt me. I nearly died. I don't know how to deal with that fact.

“Vera, can you let us know you're okay?” Apollo says.

I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay.

I place my hands on Father's desk. It grounds me a little.

“Father doesn't like me sitting at his desk,” I say, eventually. It’s the only thing I can make myself say and I know they want me to say something.

“I'm sure he wouldn't mind,” Trucy replies. “Just this once.”

“Things won't ever be the same again.”

“Vera, can you hear me?” Apollo crouches so he’s in my line of sight. “Have you thought about talking to someone? Like a therapist?”

I go to tell him that I can’t. That I’m still scared despite everything. That I don’t know who I can trust but that I don’t want to live like this anymore.

I wish I could tell people what it’s like to not be able to speak sometimes. No one really seems to understand. Even Father would live in hope that one day I’d become a normal child. He died unfulfilled.

He died poor and unknown.

He’s dead.

I wish he was here now. He wouldn't know the right thing to say or do, but he'd be there. He'd be familiar. He'd be some kind of comfort. Apollo and Trucy are really trying for me, they don't have to do this. But I still feel so alone, even with them right here. I want my father back.

I start crying.

Apollo looks concerned. “Um…do you have tissues anywhere? Or do you want some water? Or something?”

I can’t even nod or shake my head. I’m completely trapped inside myself. It feels nice to cry. I don’t think I have in a while. It feels like such a strong release. But at the same time, I really don’t want to be watched and talked to when I can’t say or do anything but sit here and cry. I don’t want to be here. I want things to just go back to normal. But things were never normal. We weren’t a normal family. I’m not normal. I hate that I am this way and that I probably always will be because I’m too scared to get help.

“My daddy died too,” Trucy says. “He went missing for a while. And I always thought he was coming back for me. But I always wondered if maybe he was gone for good. Now I know he is. He always taught me to put on a brave face and not cry, especially not in front of others. But I think that was because he was scared. Scared of feelings. Mine and his. And other people’s. Sometimes it is easier to just not feel anything. But…sometimes you can’t be strong. And I think that’s okay.”

Trucy is fascinating. And not just in her magic tricks. She's so bold. She's smaller than me, but she's not afraid to stand tall, look people in the eye or speak her mind at any time. She's lost so much, but she's still so strong.

I want to tell her what I feel and what I'm going through. I want to tell her everything. But my voice is still cut off somewhat. I wonder if other people get that sometimes. Or if I'm just doomed to always be different.

“It's so hard,” I manage to say.

“Yeah, it will be,” Apollo says. “But you're going to be okay.”

“I don't know…why I'm still alive. Do you think it means something?”

“Huh?”

“I could have easily passed away. But something kept me going. I wish I knew what it was.”

“Maybe it was you?” Trucy said. “You wanted to keep living. So you did.”

I can't remember much of what happened to me when I was poisoned. I remember the moment, but after that…everything goes fuzzy in my mind. I wonder if I did have some kind of epiphany about the meaning of life and how to fight to survive through the odds. The doctors called me a miracle for surviving something that no one had survived before. Maybe there was no meaning to it at all. But maybe there was.

All I know now is that I'm alive. And I have to decide what to do with the rest of my life. It's scary. But it gives me another kind of sensation too. A feeling of hope.

[pricefieldsuperiority]

Yearning Allegations - Pt.3

Part 1 here / Part 2 here

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn (Series)

Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time, is there any chance she likes you too?

It's been 2 weeks of awkward silence.

Ever since Paige came over the other day, she's either been ghosting your texts entirely or giving you short replies followed up with excuses about how she's really busy.

The biggest game of the season is coming up - Uconn vs Iowa. Everyone's been talking about it, and you know the team is training super hard for the game- KK and Nika won't stop blowing your phone up with Uconn shit. Despite all this, you just can't shake the feeling something is wrong between you two.

So that's why you're walking down to the school gyms at 9 pm, hoping to find Paige practicing late like she does when she's stressed out.

The halls seem so empty and lifeless without her constant chatter and her melodic laughter. You're fidgeting with your clothes, hoping the sinking feeling in your stomach will dissipate soon.

In the gym, you spot Paige on the farside of the court, shooting basket after basket. Her brows are furrowed with concentration, sweat beading on her forehead.

"Paige!" You shout as you lightly jog over.

Paige glances at you and then takes another shot, which just bounces off the backboard with a loud thud. She curses and grabs it on its way down before replying to you.

"Hey y/n, what are you doing here?"

You're anxious, eyes rovering over her face, but she won't meet your gaze.

"Is.. is everything okay between us?" You say, hesitantly stepping closer to her.

Paige has stopped throwing the ball, instead just holding it under one arm with her eyes trained on the floor.

She finally looks at you, a mix of emotions written all over her face.

"Everything's cool, yeah.. but be honest.. Did I.. make you uncomfortable the other day?"

"Of course not, why??" You're surprised by her words, confused by where she's going with this.

Paige's shoulders relax for a moment at your response, but her expression remains conflicted.

"I was just wondering if I took it too far the other day.." She trails off, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Too far?" You breathe out, hardly daring to consider what she means by that.

"Yeah.. I just.."

Paige seems to struggle to get the words out, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"I know you don't want me like how I want you, and I was worried I had made you uncomfortable or something."

Paige wants you? The words ring in your mind.

"What? What do you mean?" You're in disbelief. What is she talking about?

Paige sighs, throwing her basketball into the lined baskets lined by the gym walls before she continues on.

"Y/n, I've liked you for years. I've tried to make that clear, hoping you might take the hint or say something, but you never did. I didn't want to ruin what we have- but the other day made me feel so.." She trails off, "It's just hard to be friends with you when I want more than that. And I'm really sorry for ghosting you, that wasn't cool."

Paige runs her hands through her hair anxiously while your heart strains in your chest.

"And wait- that's not to say I don't want to be friends with you - I love being friends with you, I love you-"

Your heart is pounding in your ears, heart registering her words, and you just can't hold back anymore. You close the distance between you two, lunging for her, kissing her like she's your lifeline.

Paige is shocked for a second, before responding immediately, her hands grabbing your waist, pulling you in further.

It's all you've imagined, yet somehow better. Your hands are tangled in her hair, tugging lightly as her lips desperately press against your own. Paige kisses you, soft and open mouthed, but like a woman starved. You're enveloped in nothing but the sweet scent of her perfume while your heart feels like it's exploding, butterflies flittering wildly around in your stomach.

When you break apart, you both wear matching relieved grins. You swear to yourself that Paige's eyes have never looked more soft than in this moment, the love within them so obvious to you now. Her cheeks are flushed, more pink than you've ever seen them, her eyes alight with an excitement you've only ever attributed to the look she gets when she wins games.

Your next words tumble out in a rush, eager to tell her how you feel.

"I love you, Paige.. I've loved you since high school. I've loved growing up with you, learning more about you over the years, and getting to watch you do what you love. I love the way you care so deeply about people - about your fans, your team, your family. I love how strong you are, persevering through everything just to pursue your dreams."

You laugh, the words freeing to finally say aloud.

"I love all the little things about you, like the way you're so stupidly competitive about everything, whether that's shooting hoops or playing video games, I love your silly cocky nature and all your stupid jokes, your dramatic ass- bro can't even take medicine without taking a solid 10 minutes to complain- and even all the ways you annoy me on purpose just because you know they make me laugh nonetheless. I always feel safe with you, understood in a way I've never felt with other people.. I.. just.. so many things, Paige."

Paige's response is barely above a whisper,

"Why... why didn't you say anything?"

She's running her hands through her hair again, continuing.

"I just thought you didn't like me, like I hoped you did but I was never really sure. That's why I didn't say nothing"

You smile at her,

"I didn't wanna lose you by saying I liked you in case you didn't feel that way, I don't know. Maybe we both did the same thing, haha." You start trailing off awkwardly, suddenly feeling shy with the way she's looking at you.

Paige just grins, pulling you back into her by the hips, bringing you two face to face. She tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear before she rests her hands on your waist.

"Good thing I do, cause now I get to ask you to be my girl." Paige is grinning so widely you just grin back, happiness manifesting as butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

"Pfftt.. I was always your girl. " You stick your tongue out at her, and she throws an arm over your shoulder in response.

"Damn y/n tryin rizz me up!?" Paige laughs at her own joke before continuing,

"Anyway, come on, let's go home."

She holds the gym doors open for you, and you're struck with a sense of deja vu, heart full.

"Well.. I mean, it worked."

You smirk at her with that.

Paige just bites her lip in response, waggling her brows and rubbing her hands together at you.

You groan as you both walk to her dorm,

"Not the rizz hands!"

All you hear is her resulting laugh.

"Always the rizz hands! Come on y/n you love it, clearlyyyy."

You find yourself unable to stop smiling at her, but you attempt an eye roll to keep up appearances anyway.

"You're all mine now," you say, shoving her slightly.

Paige smiles back, love in her gaze.

"I was always yours y/n."

---

Authors Note: This is the final chapter, I love soft Paige. Hope y'all enjoyed it. Thanks for reading! <3

[gustavsbrainneuron]

Sigh. I ran as fast as I can into your inbox. ugh! syopppp I’ve been imagining Tom like eating readers pussy like mostly everydayyy, but she has to like literally tug oh his dreads/braids since he’s so freaking attached to her pussy :3 like maybe hes stressed and literally needs to eat it to the point where she’s so sensitive but he doesn’t care at all!! and yea after care too !!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Can't get enough.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎2008 Tom Kaulitz × female reader.

Warnings: smut and (kinda of) angst, dacryphilia, slightly degradation, Tom taking out his anger on the reader's pussy, all CONSENSUAL ofc.

Author's note: anon i actually love your mind sm like come here let me kiss that brain you freakster 🤤🤤🤤......... sorry for taking so long to make your fic and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. HOPW YALL ENJOY THIS MWAH MWAH MWAH!!

I was at home, specifically in the kitchen, cutting some potatoes on a wooden board that was on top of the sink. A low volume song was playing on a radio that was on the table and I was humming the song while cutting the potatoes, everything was peaceful. It was too peaceful, as suddenly this tranquility was interrupted by the sound of the front door being opened and then closed with force. The sound caught my attention, making me drop the knife and leave it on top of the cutting board, turning on the tap to pour water on my hands, shaking off the excess water and walking quickly to the hallway that led to the front door, looking to Tom who had just arrived from the studio. I smiled gently and as soon as Tom's eyes landed on me, I could see the stress and exhaustion in his expression.

We both walked until we got closer to each other; the radio music still playing, but much quieter and further away. I looked at him with a worried face and before I could say anything, he just hugged me, his tall figure pressing against my body. "I just have a headache." He replied, hoping my worried expression would go away. I stroked his back, my fingertips going up towards the back of his neck, stroking the soft skin there. "Are you okay? Do you want some painkillers?" I asked gently, feeling his slow breathing against me, I loved the fact that he was so relaxed with me, it made me feel so loved.

He shook his head negatively, breaking the hug, the familiar smell of his sweet cologne leaving my nostrils. I moved closer to him, my right hand going up to his face and resting on his cheek, closely observing his tired face. There seemed to be something more, as if he wasn't just having a headache and I wanted to know what that "something" was. "Did something happen in the studio?" Saying this drew a sigh from Tom, who relaxed against my hand, letting me touch his tired face more while one of his hands made its way to my waist, keeping me close to him. He looked down into my eyes with those brown eyes, it made my heart melt - as cheesy as that was. His gaze showed hesitation and vulnerability, caught between telling me what happened or not. "I got into a fight with one of the studio employees. It wasn't anything serious but it seemed like he wanted to do whatever he could to ruin my day." He finally said, lightly squeezing my waist as I caressed his cheek with my thumb, paying attention to what he was saying. "I swear, he kept messing with the volume of my guitar and Bill's microphone, it seemed like he wanted to make everything loud and horrible for our next show." He finished, sighing and removing his hand from my waist, waiting for some response from me. "It really seems like a bad day, huh? How about we play something on the video game and relax?" I suggested, smiling gently and bringing our lips closer, giving him a quick kiss before pulling away briefly - this gesture brought a smile from Tom's lips, this smile seemed to have lit up the house more, since even that small metal in the corner of his lip shone on the slightly orange light that hit both of us. "Sure. I'm just going to take a shower first." Tom replied and got closer to my face only to kiss my forehead and walk past me, heading towards our room.

I headed towards the kitchen, going back to making our dinner. I finished cutting the potatoes, placing them in a pan with water, turning on the oven and closing with a lid. My hands went to a drawer, opening it and taking out a timer, where I set 35 minutes and let the timer start.

While Tom was taking his shower, I went into our room and saw his guitar in the corner. I didn't know much about the guitar, just a few chords that Tom had taught me a long time ago, but as I had nothing to do, I decided to pick up the guitar and play. I placed the instrument on my lap, placing it on my upper thigh and picking up the pick that was "stuck" between the strings. I gently brought my left hand fingers closer to the strings, pressing three fingers on an E chord. I used the pick in my right hand to pick the three strings that my left hand was pressing, producing a very low sound; since the guitar wasn't connected to a speaker - no rock for me today, I thought and chuckled at the thought, just getting up and placing the guitar on its stand, leaving the pick on the dresser from Tom. I was so distracted that I didn't even notice that Tom came out of the shower and was watching me, he was already dressed but in simpler clothes and a towel around his wet dreadlocks. When I was about to turn my back, I only saw a tall shadow approaching me and I was startled, letting out a loud gasp and closing my eyes, as I didn't expect him there now.

Tom was startled by my fright, looking at me with a raised eyebrow, confused. "What was that? You scared me." He said, laughing at my still scared expression. My heart was beating fast, and I moved closer to him, only to give him a subtle slap on the arm. "I scared you?? You scared me!" I snapped, dramatically placing a hand on my chest, smiling at the sound of his laughter. "You're the one who gets scared very easily." Tom approached, his hands instinctively going to my waist. My eyes went up to his face, looking at his expression that seemed less tired now. "What were you doing with my guitar? What can I say?.. you don't even know how to play guitar." He teased, smiling confidently and foolishly, making me roll my eyes in response to his statement. "I just don't start learning it because if I learn your band will want me to join too." I stuck my tongue out at him, making us both laugh, our laughter echoing around the room.

We both went to the living room and as I had suggested; we were playing the videogame. It was a simple game, a racing game. I honestly wasn't good at it, sometimes I confused one button or another but today I was doing very well. I beat Tom once, twice, three times!! Tom's expression seemed to darken with each of my victories, he celebrated, of course, but something seemed off. When I won for the fourth time, I heard a 'beep beep beep!' coming from the kitchen - I played so much that I had forgotten about the timer, I didn't know that thirty five minutes could went by so quickly. "Ooh wait, we'll play later okay?" "Mhm." Tom replied back, his voice showing irritation, it was very light but I could feel it.

I went to the kitchen in quick steps, deactivating the timer and turning off the pan. I squatted down to open a cupboard under the sink and get a colander, I put the pot inside the sink and picked up the pan with the potatoes, throwing the potatoes into the pot carefully, the hot water coming out through the small holes in the colander. When all the water was out, I took a larger pot and took the colander, putting all the potatoes into the larger pot. I heard footsteps leaving the room, it was probably Tom. He walked, his footsteps eating up the distance between us, he walked over and stood next to me, just looking at me.

I picked up a fork, turning to look at him, noticing his eyes that were now kinder than they were in the living room just now. "You want help?" He questioned, looking at me curiously. "Of course, the more help the better." I spoke in an excited voice, smiling gently, picking up another fork and handing it to him.

I don't know how much time Tom and I spent mashing potatoes together, I just know that we were both tired from mashing potatoes with forks. When we finally finished, the mashed potatoes went back to the pan and I added a little margarine, salt and a well-pressed garlic clove. I mixed the food gently while Tom added milk little by little into the pan. When the consistency became thick, I stopped stirring and turned off the stove.

"Well, while we wait for our food to cool, we can go back to playing, what do you think?" I said, looking at him and delicately taking the milk carton that was in his large hands, going towards the refrigerator and putting the milk carton there. "Sure. This time I'll beat you in every round!" He stated, taking my hand as soon as I finished closing the refrigerator door, gently pulling me towards the living room.

Ok, I had already won for the eighth time from Tom. His expression seemed to get more serious with each of my victories, I even suggested that we change the game but he insisted on staying in that racing game and who was I to disagree? I was having fun. When I won for the tenth time, he became extremely serious. Maybe he was competitive?..a little?..I should let him win at least once and that's what I did. I let him win but he noticed. "What the fuck? Y/n, I don't want you to let me win. I want you to play normally so I can beat you fairly!" He said, his voice rising slightly as he looked at me. I didn't want any arguments, especially over a stupid game. "Tom. I think that's enough for today, let's change the game." I insisted, looking at him who immediately shook his head negatively, insisting on continuing. I sighed at his insistence, getting up and placing the controller on the sofa, I couldn't play if we were going to fight. My steps were quick towards the exit of the room, but Tom was faster than me, he came behind me and pulled me by the wrist and before I could think, he pushed me in a slightly aggressive way towards the sofa, pinning me against the fluffy pillows, holding both of my wrists and positioning himself between my legs.

"Tom, what the-" My body writhed against the cushions, my protests being interrupted and stopped by Tom's lips; which collided against mine aggressively, the metal of his lip piercing giving an icy sensation to my warm lips. I didn't delay in returning the kiss, kissing him with the same intensity, it was love and a little anger mixing together and god, it made a perfect combination.

"P-Please.." I whined on top of Tom's lap, while one of his hands held my legs open and the other hand used the middle and ring fingers to tease my wet folds, making me elicit low whimpers along with desperate gasps. "I already told you to stay quiet." He firmly rebuked, giving my swollen clit a gentle slap, eliciting a brief, sharp whine from me. I was a mess on his lap, my chest rising and falling in response to my rapid breathing, while my head fell back with each movement of Tom's fingers, wet sounds echoed through the living room - these sounds fueled the desire to Tom. With my head tilted back, Tom took the opportunity to kiss my neck, feeling my pulse quicken. He was nibbling on my hot skin, his piercing making it feel like it would burn my skin and even then, I would remain there, completely at his mercy.

Tom began to put a pace on the movements of his fingers, removing his fingers and inserting them into my cunt quickly, making my legs shake due to the acceleration of stimulation so suddenly. I started to squirm against Tom's lap, trying to escape those intense stimulations, but Tom obviously wouldn't let me, bringing his lips to my ear to whisper firmly. "You're not going anywhere." He said, both fingers moving skillfully, making me clench around his fingers; whining louder, only indirectly encouraging him to increase the pace of his fingers once more. My eyelids were tightly shut, my expression contorting in pleasure as Tom moved his fingers faster - if that was possible, giving one last thrust with his two long, slender fingers, curling them to hit my sweet spot, this action sending spasms of pleasure through my body, my legs shaking uncontrollably as he continued moving his fingers, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible as he placed wet, sloppy kisses over my jawline, watching my expression of pure bliss as he grunted with each whimper that leaves my lips, his pants becoming tighter than usual.

My breathing slowed as the waves of pleasure gradually disappeared, my body completely relaxed against Tom's. Gently, Tom removed his fingers from my gummy walls, taking the fingers with my fluids to his lips, sucking both fingers with one satisfied and long hum. "You taste so sweet. I can't get enough of you." He commented, taking his fingers out of his mouth after licking them clean. Tom gently held me by the waist, lifting me up and removing me from his lap, getting between my legs and lowering his body to catch my lips in an aggressive kiss; my own taste making me shiver in strangeness. I responded to the kiss, trying to reflect the same desire as him, my hands moving down his slender body, trailing to the edge of his sweatpants, pulling the fabric down in a messy way. But Tom didn't let me, one of his hands coming to grab both of my wrists, making me groan against his lips, taking his fleshy lower lip skin between my teeth and eliciting a low grunt from Tom, who broke the kiss - leaving only a strand of saliva connecting our lips. "Be patient, Y/n." He scolded me, firmly but not unkindly, starting to pepper kisses down my neck, his big left hand making its way to my blouse, having difficulty removing it, which made him just tear my blouse in half, a small dissatisfied sound leaving my lips and before I could complain, he spoke first. "Shhh, I'll buy you another one." He shushed me, just throwing the blouse that was now just a "rag" on the living room floor, his eyes immediately looking at the exposed skin as he continued nibbling and kissing the sensitive skin on my neck.

The kisses continued, making their way to my collarbone, my breasts, my stomach, my belly and finally reaching the inside of my thighs, his strong arms curling around my small thighs, keeping them open the way he preferred and wanted them to be. The anticipation seemed to be on purpose, almost as if he wanted to torture me. With each kiss he moved closer to my folds only to pull away again, making me gasp so that my abdomen sank inward and quickly returned to normal. He kissed the soft skin of my thighs, sucking on it gently, giving hickeys over the warm skin as I squirmed, feeling the hot discomfort between my legs.

"Tom, be faster!" I raised my voice slightly, irritated and impatient, whining with each mark he left on the skin of my thighs, making him stop out of nowhere. He stopped to admire the view of my pussy, completely wet and throbbing to feel something that would give me relief. Suddenly, he brought his face closer to my folds and felt my sweet scent dominate his nostrils, grunting in approval as his erection throbbed in need as well. Impatient, I lifted my waist towards his face, wanting contact, which made him force my waist down and lift his head to look into my eyes - with a look full of desire and also..anger? why? I don't know. "If you continue to be an impatient slut, I'll stop now and you'll have to use your useless little fingers to satisfy yourself." He responded with greater irritation, his calloused fingers climbing around my waist, holding me in place and bringing me closer to his face, lifting me a little. I swallowed hard at Tom's response, just nodding my head, I didn't want to have to satisfy myself alone and a small part in the back of my mind liked hearing Tom talking to me like that. I liked the fact that he was angry.

Suddenly, he lowered his face and dragged his tongue along my wet slit in a long, slow lick, making me whimper in a high-pitched way, my waist shaking in response to the stimulation; that even though it was small, it made me squirm. When his tongue reached my clit, he slowly circled it with the tip of his tongue before sucking it hard, my hands flying to his dreadlocks, pulling them lightly, just discounting his aggression and intensity against himself. "Mmm..I love your taste, Y/n." He murmured against my sensitive nub, continuing to lap at my juices and pleasure me with his pierced, skillful mouth, exaggerating with the licks around my clit, wanting to make me as sensitive as possible - and he was making me more sensitive, my thighs closing around his head. My eyebrows were furrowed, my eyes were tightly closed and my mouth was half-open, letting out little cries with each lap of his tongue. I was a mess. Not just me, but Tom too. He ate my pussy like a starving man, letting out short grunts as he worked his mouth on my bundles of nerves.

How many times had I cum? maybe 5 times or 7? I had already lost my way, I had already squirted against his face and he didn't stop. My body shook from all his stimulation, my eyes hitting the back of my skull as my hands pulled at the couch fabric, twisting the fabric and squeezing it. In a desperate act, I tried to move my waist to escape Tom, getting into a fight that Tom obviously won. Holding my waist tightly, his long fingers crushing the skin of my waist with marks that would probably remain for a long time. "Oh no, you don't get to move away from my mouth that easily. I'm not gonna stop until I've had my fill of this sweet little cunt."

With renewed vigor, Tom buried his face between my thighs, alternating between long, deep licks and quick flicks of his tongue over my clit. "I can't-mmh...hah..c-can't.." I mumbled, tears gathering in my eyes as the sound of Tom's labors between my legs made loud, obscene sounds. "Pathetic. You can beat me in a stupid racing game but look who's beating you now, me, me and me." His words vibrated through my pussy, punctuating each word with a firm suck on my clit, sending jolts of ecstasy through my small body, my eyes closing so that small tears came out of my eyes, desperate cries leaving my lips. With the sound of my desperate cries, Tom redoubled his efforts, his tongue sinking into me, feeling my hot walls flutter around the muscle that worked tirelessly and insistently, doing everything to make me cum once again. "Let go, Y/n. Give in to me." He demanded, his voice vibrating against my swollen clit before he sank deeper into my warmth. Tom felt my body responding to his every lick and this only fueled more of the desire he felt for me, ignoring anything and just focusing on giving me as much pleasure as possible and also taking out some of his anger on me. Tom's eyes would open sometimes, looking at my flushed face, loving my reaction - how quickly I melted against his mouth. I let go one last time, the knot unraveling in my stomach, the climax taking over my exhausted body, spasms running through my body as Tom prolonged that sensation, my brain unable to think about anything but him. My legs shook with each wave of pleasure that passed through my petite figure. When it was over, Tom finally let go of my pair of thighs, letting them fall limply onto the couch, removing his wet face from between my legs, looking at me and the way my breathing was still quick, his lips curling into a proud smile. With the back of his right hand, he removed the remains of my fluids from his cheeks and chin, lowering his face to get closer to me, distributing gentle kisses over my body, moving up to my face and giving me a quick peck.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?"

"Uuughh.. (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)"

Tom gave me a low snort for my exhausted response, straightening my completely messy hair and brushing away some of the tears that still fell, rubbing his thumb gently over my face. "Can you get up?" He questioned worriedly, helping me get up, trying not to laugh when he saw my legs tremble as I stood. I gently slapped his arm, my cheeks burning slightly. "Don't laugh, idiot."

"Are you embarrassed? I was literally between your legs a few seconds ago."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

We both went to the bathroom, but I asked Tom to carry me and he carried me, of course, it was the minimum after I couldn't walk properly because of him. In the bathroom, he removed his clothes and placed them on a space in the marble sink, helping me get into the shower and adjusting the water to a warm, pleasant temperature for both of us.

"Can I clean you up?" He questioned, looking at me, waiting for an answer and I just nodded, taking the soap and handing it to him. Without hesitation, he rubbed the soap over my body, being careful not to hurt me in any way, making me laugh softly. "What's so funny, hm?" "It's just funny to see you taking so much care of me now." "What?" He paused dramatically, his hands going to his waist, as he playfully scolded me for looking, pretending to be offended by what I said. "Wasn't I being very careful with you?" "A little." "A little? What if you fell off the couch? I would be there, holding you so you wouldn't fall off the couch. :)" I rolled my eyes, my hands going to his hand, to grab the soap and go back to taking my shower but Tom didn't let me taking the soap back, insisting that he had to clean me. "But you know, we could try something new, Y/n." His voice suggested something more and I noticed it, raising an eyebrow as I looked in his direction, confused. He sighed, rolling his eyes in sassyness, smirking. "I helped you a lot, you could help me a little too."

"Not here. Not now. We just-"

"Pleaseeeee? :("

"No."

"Pretty please? It's really quick, I promise."

I sighed, looking into his brown eyes that were begging for relief, filled with lust again. "Fine, fine. But you better be quick. >:("

"I promise i'll be quick! ^_^"

[ferrstappen]

max the extra wag l Max Verstappen

a/n: this is so bad im sorry but it just came to my mind! I hope to post the second part of the Lando break up series tomorrow, hopefully after he gets on the podium!!!!

pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader

genre: fluff

FIND THE REST OF MAX THE WAG SERIES HERE

summary: you can't keep up with all the drama outside the track, but your boyfriend keeps you updated.

It's not like you didn't check social media or that your algorithm didn't show you edits of your boyfriend driving, trauma dumping, looking cute and hot as always, but after a couple of weeks being exploited as an intern, you didn't really have the time to keep up with the usual gossip from Max's work.

Monaco GP, 2023

It was great to be home. The best of the Monaco Grand Prix was that you could sleep on your own bed, you and Max could walk back home hand in hand, stopping to buy things you may need: sweets to fill your purse to binge while sitting on the garage, the special herbal blend Max liked to have before going to bed, condoms because the last box was almost empty.

Adored and precious routine. almost.

You had to admit Monaco made you a little more nervous, not only because of the narrow streets, but a lot of important, well-known people were all over the place, and Max was the center of it all. Even after years of relationship, you still felt nervous when he looked at your with glowing eyes.

This is my girlfriend, (y/n). She has this great internship because she's the best of her class. I'm sure you've met before.

When all that was over, you chatted a bit with known photographers from the paddock, and right when you were speaking to one of them, you noticed the special white and red look of Charles Leclerc, walking hand in hand with a girl.

It didn't catch your attention immediately, but when you were back home, comfortably sitting on your bed reading an article for work while Max viewed the photographs of the day, the image sneaked in your thoughts.

"You didn't tell me about Charles and Charlotte!" you released the statement a bit harsher than expected, Max's eyebrows furrowing.

"Tell you what?" Max was confused and his face showed it, it was funny.

"Charles Leclerc? Charlotte Siné? Sounds familiar?" you said playfully rolling your eyes.

"I know who they are, schat, but I don't know the thing I was supposed to tell you about? They broke up months ago, they even announced it on instagram, although it was completely unnecessary if you ask me," The last sentence painted a smile on your face, recognizing the change of the tone of his voice, posture and facial expressions, he was ready to gossip.

"But I saw them walking together today! They were walking towards the Ferrari garage, they were holding hands and everything!"

Right in that moment, you observed how his expression changed before realizing a chuckle, his loud and gorgeous laugh that instantly made your insides flutter because it came from his stomach, his lungs; the purest laugh, your favorite.

"She is his new girlfriend, babe," Max told you and your jaw dropped. "Checo said the same thing to me and Daniel when they walked in together for the first time, Checo was sure it was Charlotte until Charles introduced us before the press conference," Now he was in full gossip mode: sitting straighter, phone left behind, blue eyes open wide.

"I'm speechless," you told him, repeating what you saw in the morning over and over again, but your feelings suddenly deviated from surprise to betrayal, playfully hitting Max's thigh. "Honey, why didn't you tell me that sooner?!"

Barcelona GP, 2023

Today you entered the paddock alone, coming straight from the hotel room after landing just an hour ago. You were sad to miss Friday, but your boss said it was vital for you to be in the office on Friday, insisting the meetings couldn't be held on Zoom.

You knew it was because he's a Mercedes fan and hoped Max would be distracted without having you there.

As if. your presence wasn't very vital during the weekend and you were well aware of it.

Admiring the amount of fans cheering for their favorite drivers, a sea of red Ferrari merchandising and flags, you walked by the Ferrari garage to greet Carlos, letting him know you (and Max) were cheering for him to get P2.

P1 belonged to your boyfriend, always.

Quickly scanning the drivers lounge you noticed the Sainz family, very close to each other, Carlos Sainz Sr. listening to everything the engineers were saying about his son's strategy and car.

But something was missing, and it was easy to notice because every friend and family of Carlos was there.

With that idea roaming, you reached your destination, grabbing a sugar free Red Bull before finding your boyfriend with his suit hanging from his hips, tightly hugging him from his waist while carefully extending your neck to meet his lips.

Max was required to stay longer on the track, Christian letting him know they added a meeting to discuss strategy because of the changing wether.

This left you with almost an hour to kill; your head resting on his thighs as he carefully juggling.

"Max, have you heard anything from the party last week? after the gp?" this got Max's attention, already knowing you had a piece of information.

"I know Lando almost hooked up with a girl from Latin America, from Chile I think? but nothing happened because his brother was staying on his flat. Charles and... ex girlfriend 2.0? made it official. Checo didn't go anywhere because last year still haunts him..." Max was mentally remembering every piece of information he'd heard during the week. "Oh, and I think Carlos was with a girl that wasn't his girlfriend? Christian said they didn't do anything, but Max Fewtrell said they left together,"

"Interesting because you know who's not in the Ferrari garage? at his home race? Isa," You told Max, which caused him to drop the colorful balls he was juggling.

"No! So it's true? he cheated?" He whisper shouted.

"Maybe they've been broken up for some time, now that I think about it I haven't seen her since testing?"

Neither Max nor you heard when someone walked in, calling for Max. Because now Max's head was resting on your legs as your fingers caressed his hair, his hands moving around as he came up with a possible theory, tying loose ends and trying to remember anything he'd heard.

The subject was forgotten once you arrived to the hotel room; lights off, eyes almost closing, but Max gasped when he remembered something Alonso mentioned during a press conference, apparently after hearing Lance talking with Esteban.

"Lance said Esteban and his girlfriend are over, do you think it's true?" Max asked you, and this brought up another thing.

"Did you hear anything about Lance cheating or whatever at his sister's wedding?" now you asked him, bodies coming closer to each other.

Now sleep was long forgotten and the only important thing was the gossipy whispers, the loud giggle leaving Max's lips when something sounded too ridiculous, and the security of knowing you'd never be the subject of those rumors.

[adore-laur]

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around." 

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around." 

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good." 

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country." 

It's not an exaggeration or a falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero." 

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door. 

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave." 

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us." 

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up. 

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist. 

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. 

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive. 

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you. 

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there. 

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those? 

A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep. 

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own. 

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to? 

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of them still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth. 

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat. 

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to, since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to yours now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last? 

Snap out of it! 

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat. 

After finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours. 

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry. 

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts." 

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight. 

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends. 

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but is familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated. 

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?" 

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak." 

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one." 

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands, like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring. 

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone. 

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again. 

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? 

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response. 

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying. 

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me." 

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. 

Harry huffs and sits in his seat. 

Everything used to be so easy with him. 

—— 

Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door. 

"Knock knock." 

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked." 

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there." 

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you." 

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too." 

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table." 

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow. 

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night." 

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway. 

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you. 

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful. 

—— 

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is. 

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair. 

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers. 

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner. 

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text—only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches, like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later. 

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks. 

"Were my hands dirty or something?" 

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there? 

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously. 

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned. 

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?" 

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked." 

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice. 

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?" 

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school." 

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?" 

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself." 

He asked about you. No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program." 

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?" 

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink? 

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision." 

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time." 

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet. 

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean." 

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day." 

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to." 

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space." 

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. I don't know why I even asked." 

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading. 

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom." 

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow." 

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please." 

It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation. 

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete. 

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well. 

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy. 

"What did we do wrong?" 

—— 

Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend, who's not even close to him? 

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel. 

Your weak spot was him, and you were his. 

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?" 

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try." 

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love. 

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly." 

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way." 

"Fine," you repeated. 

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run? 

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home." 

The door slammed shut, and reality sank in. 

—— 

The open sign of the diner flickers below. 

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him. 

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit." 

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on." 

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face." 

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other." 

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me; you know that. The feeling never disappeared, no matter how much I pushed it down." 

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel." 

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you." 

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out. 

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after." 

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other." 

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." 

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong. 

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?" 

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mother, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp." 

"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach. 

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?" 

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain? 

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again." 

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me." 

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either." 

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?" 

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? Are we back to being strangers?" 

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you." 

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you. 

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else." 

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without saying a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me." 

And so he does it for the last time. 

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to—his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely around you, squeezing the sides of your body. He's breathing you in, like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other. 

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you—every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him. 

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat. 

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same." 

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?" 

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles." 

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony. 

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway." 

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car." 

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on. 

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better. 

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters. 

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks." 

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened." 

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point. 

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?" 

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either? 

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you? 

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… Good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you." 

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean." 

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car. 

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave. 

Don't hurt yourself. 

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to make you ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge. 

Why? 

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away. 

You still mean so much to me. 

—— 

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories of Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening. 

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him. 

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you. 

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it. 

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly? 

—— 

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit. 

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped to it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you stole his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you. 

January 29th 

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love the moment she walks into a room? 

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear, I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul. 

I hope she sees the same thing. 

June 6th 

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms. 

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other. 

I always have time for her. 

August 2nd 

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology. 

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it. 

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again. 

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later. 

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mother's house so he could sleep better at night. 

So he can be reminded of home. 

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. Home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you. 

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go. 

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart. 

——

[familyvideostevie]

october thirtieth

day thirty: james potter you find a photo of the two of you in james's pocket | established relationship, fluff | 1k

“James, have you seen my lipstick?”

No reply. You check your makeup bag one more time but can't find it.

“James!”

“What?”

His voice is muffled. You leave the bathroom and follow it, finding him standing in the closet frowning at his dress shirts. You press into his side, wrapping yourself around his bare torso. “Your face is going to stick like that if you're not careful.”

He drags his hand up and down between your shoulder blades. “I have to be the best-dressed bride of a vampire out there, darling. You know that.”

Silly, silly man. The event of the evening is Halloween-themed drinks at the popular bar on the high street. You had to book a table and everything and James has been looking forward to it all month.

He came up with your costumes: you, a dangerous and beautiful vampire, and him, your willing and handsome bride.

“Well, best of luck to you. Have you seen my lipstick? The red one?”

You need it to draw the punctures on his neck and lines of blood from the corners of your mouth. James pulls himself from your hold and selects a shirt, finally, buttoning it up halfway and messing with his hair in the mirror.

“I don't have it, darling,” he says.

You sigh. Easily distracted, this one. “I gave it to you the other night to hold.”

He snaps his fingers. “So you did. It must be in my jacket pocket.”

“Which one?” You swear James has more clothes than you.

“Which jacket or which pocket?”

“James.”

He winks at you, glasses flashing. “Brown jacket, not sure which pocket.”

You leave him to his fussing and find it hanging on the hook in the entryway.

The lipstick is not in the right pocket or the left. You hope he's not lost it because it's a great color and you really don't want to have to draw the blood on in purple, or something, but then you feel something lipstick-shaped in the breast pocket.

“Jackpot,” you mutter. You pull the tube from the pocket but out with it comes a piece of paper.

It's creased and wrinkled, as if it's been handled many times. You unfold it and —

Oh. You think you say that out loud.

It's you and James. A photo from ages ago. Years, actually. It's you two on the night you met. A party of Lily's, something she did often in those days to bring people together, and this one was a game night. You and James had been paired up for charades and you'd absolutely crushed the competition. You remember feeling like you could read each other's minds.

In the photo you're holding the trophy — a tiny, plastic thing Lily had bought at a discount store — and you're smiling so wide you can see all of your teeth. James has his arm slung around you and he's looking right at you instead of at the camera.

His expression shocks you. You've seen hundreds of photos of the two of you together where he's got this look on his face, the one that you know to be love. And in the photo you've just found, one of the first day you met, he's looking at you the same way. Like he's in love.

“Darling?” he calls. “Did you find it?” he wanders down the hall, fully dressed, and you turn to him.

“Yes,” you say, breathless. “James, why do you have this in your jacket?”

“Hm?” He slides his hand over your hip and leans in to look, face brightening when he see's what you've found. “Have you not seen this before? I suppose I've kept it in there since Lily gave it to me.”

You just stare at it.

“God, it's so obvious I was gone for you,” he sighs.

You turn your head so you're looking at him, so close you could count his eyelashes. “You were?”

“Darling, I was utterly ass over tit for you from the start. In love the second you opened your mouth.”

“Don't be silly, James.”

He looks offended. “No, it's true! I remember the whole thing. I was late and you'd been freed up from work at the last minute so we didn't have partners when Lily said to make teams. And you looked at me and said, 'You better be good at this, because I am.' And I said, 'I will win you this if it's the last thing I do.'”

“Which was a bit dramatic,” you mutter.

“And you didn't even tell me your name until we won.”

“That is how it went, I suppose. You really fancied me because I was a bit overcompetative?”

James snorts. “Come on, love, is that really so hard to believe?”

You look at the picture again. It isn't, considering you were similarly smitten that night, but it's still a bit like a fairy tale.

“No, I guess not.”

“I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with you at first sight?” James presses a kiss to your temple. “You're funny —” he kisses your brow “— sweet —” your nose “— lovely —” your cheek.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say, shoving him off. “We need to finish getting ready, James, or we'll be late.”

He bares his neck for you. “Blood me up, baby.”

You laugh, slip the photo back into his jacket, and drag him back to the bathroom. “You're so weird.”

“And you looooove it.”

“You're the one who carries that photo round all the time!”

Just saying it makes your heart swell. It's a small thing in the grand scheme of your relationship. James shows you he loves you all the time — in his words, his actions. The way he looks at you. How he always buys your favorite flavor soda at the shop when he sees it. The way he knows how to wake you from a nap without startling you. His touch in a crowded room and his gaze when he senses you need something.

So, yeah, a photo in his jacket pocket is nothing, really. But he clearly looks at it often and thins about that first night.

You lean in and kiss him without warning. He makes a surprised noise but leans into it, hand cupping the back of your neck. Maybe it's alright if you're a little late.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[shinekocreator]

based on this amazing prompt by @ghost-bxrd (it's hella ooc, but if you wanted it in character, you wouldn't be here)

⚠️Tw: mentions of death, stopped heart, panic, fear⚠️

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONO!

They weren't supposed to find out, at least, not like this.

His heart, which just a few moments ago wasn't beating at all, is now beating too fast, too loud, too strong.

He wants to move, to say something, to do something, but he can't. His lungs are still empty, so he starts breathing, too short, too fast.

This isn't good. They're not supposed to know, not supposed to see.

How could he let this happen? Why did he even agree to this stupid sleepover? Now they're all going to know.

All of them?

Panic creeps into his mind. What if he finds out? He can't find out.

He takes a look around the room, Dick is holding him, and he says something that Jason can't hear. Damian looks scared and on the verge of tears. Tim is in the corner holding Cass's hand, trying to reassure her that everything is alright, even if he doesn't believe so himself. Steph and Duke aren't in the room. He has no idea where they could've gone. Barbara is on her laptop, probably searching for a course of action.

"... Just breathe in slowly. " he can finally make out what Dick is saying. So he does just that, trying to slow his breathing and heartbeat, using Dick's voice as both a guideline and an anchor.

It works. He can talk now. He pulls Damian into a hug, which Damian doesn't reject. "I'm alright, Baby Bird, I'm alright."

Damian starts sobbing into his arms. "Your heart, it stopped, and you, you weren't breathing and I, and I don't know what to do because I don't want you to die again!"

"I'm not. You guys aren't getting rid of me so easily," he jokes, then kisses Damian's head. Damian doesn't flinch or move away. He must be really concerned then.

Jason turns to Dick "what exactly happened?"

"Just like Damian said, your heart stopped, so did your breathing. Does this... Happen often?"

Jason nods. He's not sure what to say.

Then Tim speaks "What the actual fuck Todd?! You have any Idea how scared we were? Why didn't you say anything?"

Jason slowly gets up and goes to hug Tim. He can't seem to find the right words.

Tim pushes him away with a horrified expression. "Dude, you're freezing cold!"

Hearing that, Cass brings him the warmest blanket she can find. "No more cold," her warm smile is radiant, Jason wants to hug her but knows he shouldn't.

Barbara comes closer and helps wrap the blanket around him. She doesn't need to say anything.

Jason pulls her into a hug, then brings in Dick, Cass joins them soon after, and so do Tim and Damian.

It's not as cold anymore, Jason feels warmth spreading throughout his body.

After they let go of him, Jason finally pays some mind to the absence of people in the room.

"Where's Steph? And Where's Duke?"

Dick rubs the back of his neck. NO NO NONONO!!

"They went with Alfred to calm Bruce down."

NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

Jason removes his grip from the blanket, letting it fall to the floor as he attempts to escape and leave the manor altogether, but the presence of a man in the doorway stops him in his tracks.

Jason takes a step back, and right before he manages to turn around and run for the window, two strong arms wrap around him, pulling him in for a hug.

And Jason fully breaks down.

Bruce holds him while he sobs and whimpers, giving him a moment to let everything out and calm down a little.

"It's alright, I'm still here. You're still here. We're still here." Bruce says, whether to Jason or himself, no one knows.

Jason can feel Bruce shaking. He tries to grasp the fact that Bruce cares and wants him around. Tries to process that Bruce was scared, terrified of the thought of Jason dying again.

Jason takes notice of the tears running down Bruce's face, moving his hand up to gently wipe them away.

"I'm still here, old man, I'm not dying again."

That's the last thing he says before he allows himself to relax and hug Bruce back, after mouthing a quick "thank you" to Stephanie, Duke, and Alfred, knowing he's wanted and loved by his family.

[hiskillingjar]

Strade with an autistic mc?

One of my characters has low functioning autism. She’s really sensitive to bright, noisy light and cold air. (It could trigger a meltdown). Her special interests are stuffed animals, especially if they’re big and cuddly, and apple slices.

She’s not really great at verbal communication especially when she scared or nervous. She’s good at physical communication tho? Expressions?

Also she’s part tanuki soooo do whatever you want with that.

autism gang rise up

i'm gonna make this a headcanon post cus i've written something adjacent to this for strade before (cw for. strade lol)

ren 🦊

suddenly he is the sweetest boy in the world

like so kind, so patient, so sweet

you're out in public and get triggered by bright lights, loud noises, you have a meltdown? ren is literally dragging you out and making sure you're okay

he's speaking to you so sweetly, so gently, he won't touch you if you don't want him to

he's just so patient with you

kind of like...he's the only person who really understands you? the world is so cruel and mean to people like you...and you're so sweet and gentle, you shouldn't be out there...you should be with me, you should let me take care of you...nobody else will

manipulating king. gaslighting king

to be fair he does win your affection with stuffed animals and like. good sensory stuff. blankets, pillows. got a whole autism nest goin

he'll replace all the lights in the house too

doesn't mind when you stim by touching his tail or ears. it just makes him curl into you that much more <3

and like obviously he's doing this cus he's a horny monster that wants you to depend on him

but he does genuinely just want someone to care for

like even if you can't make eye contact all the time, or if you don't understand what he says or tells you sometimes, he'd still be so patient

he knows you struggle with that stuff, and you're doing your best. that's all he asks for <3

law 🥀

autism 4 autism

law is so autistic, are you kidding.

granted their autism manifests kind of differently though. they got the liveleaks autism, the monotone drawl autism, the twin peaks autism (me too)

but like. providing that you survived the first night (cus they might not be able to stop themselves from just watching you wilt)

they'd be reasonably patient and gentle with you

i mean there's like no prolonged eye contact between you

but you'd communicate remarkably well (with what little you did actually talk)

they know how it feels to be misunderstood after all...and you're so delicate and need to be cared for

they wouldn't. totally understand your special interests (cus they like bones and taxidermy and roadkill) but they wouldn't be able to stop themselves from buying a few soft toys

you just look so sweet and comfortable when they leave you for work, why would they deprive you of that?

they might panic if you started having a meltdown, but they'd eventually clue in and. get you settled down (give them a break, they have meltdowns too)

and like. autism 4 autism...you know there's some sadomasochism happening. good for you! good for you...

strade 🔨

i mean. i've written it so. lol

strade would be such an asshole i'm so sorry

like come on you've come preloaded with triggers and buttons he could push to make you panic and freak out. he couldn't NOT fuck around with you

he might get a little overwhelmed himself by how much he likes fucking around with you. it's just so easy

keep a few bright lights on, play some music too loud, put on the air conditioning, that's all it takes? buddy you are NOT surviving this one

but okay okay. on the concept that you DO survive past the first night (lol)

strade would still be pretty shitty about everything

like he wouldn't yell or be mad at you for meltdowns but he would not understand in the slightest (and you know his ass is not looking anything up to make it easier)

it would kind of be on ren to make adjustments (changing lights, reminding him about your sensitivities) and like. maybe then he'd pay attention to some shit

he's better with your special interests and sensory needs tbh. he might even think it's kind of cute that you infodump when you're excited or curl up with blankets and soft toys

that doesn't mean he's not gonna fuck with you though lol.

also. full german stare at all times. will trigger your conversation sensitivity at all time. he loves it.

[mysilaan]

Hellow, hope everything's good! I'm here to request some hcs for my boy, Thomas. 😎

I noticed something cute about him in these two episodes, and I wondered if you could write about it.

So, whenever he shows something of his interest or something he created (aka his coffee machine app/the VR set) to the Newcete, he looks so proud of himself and full of enthusiasm to share something he likes with her, it's just-- so cute!!! I imagine him having the proudest, stupidest smile on his face when she likes it as well. And they're bonding slowly, and it's just fills my soul with so much happiness! (i'm a slave for slow burns, can't help it)

Thank you! 💕😊

Hello Anon :) It has been tough for me recently but it’s getting better, thank you!

Now that’s a very good headcanon request… I’ve noticed it too and I found it very endearing⭐

(And yeah slow burns supremacy 😔)

__

THOMAS MCL NG HEADCANON PART.1🍒

⭐

You were having one of those comfortable sleeps where nothing in the world could get you out of bed, and you were having a pretty nice dream on top of that. Your eyes slowly opened, and you were hit with the feeling of forgetting something. Had your alarm already rung this morning? Your eyes flashed open and you took your phone on your nightstand to check the time. 08:53 am.  You were so doomed.  You leapt out of bed and grabbed the first pair of jeans and top you could find. Snatching your keys, you dashed out of the house without even grabbing a snack. Once at the bus stop, you took a look at when the next bus was passing by. “Five minutes… It should be fine.” You muttered to yourself. But the bus was late and you ended up waiting for ten long minutes…

Arriving at the building, you glanced at your phone screen: you were almost an hour late… You knew that Devon wouldn’t mind much, it wasn’t in your habits and he knew that. You searched your pockets and bag to find your badge but it seems to be nowhere to be found. “No, don't tell me…” Yes, you forgot it. You let out a frustrated noise while looking for the doorbell of the open space. But before you could do anything, a loud motor sound made you turn towards its source. Someone on a motorcycle had parked just in front of the building. Did this person work here? You were curious about their identity. You got your answer when the person removed their helmet-and it was none other than…“Thomas?!” His name slipped out of your mouth in a mix of surprise and confusion.  He tilted his head towards you with a raised eyebrow and you unconsciously moved towards him. “Weren’t you supposed to start at 8:30 this morning?” You were caught red handed. “Well… Hello to you too. I overslept.” He just nodded and turned his back to you to grab his stuff. “I didn’t know you were riding a motorbike.” “You never asked.” Of course he would say that. When he turned back towards you, ready to head inside, he seemed surprised to see you observing his motorcycle with such fascination. “That’s a pretty one. How long have you been riding it?” you asked. Were you seriously asking about his bike? He never thought it was something you were interested in. “I'd say about three years… It’s not my first one though.” “That’s so cool! The speed might be crazy on this one.” When you raised your gaze on his face; you noticed he was smiling, he almost seemed proud. That’s something you noticed before: his usual serious expression vanished when he talked about something he liked. It made you smile involuntarily. “It is. What’s great about this one is its tires-” You cut him mid-sentence without thinking. “Yeah, I heard they’re pretty light for this kind of motorcycle.” He looked at you, completely incredulous. “Did I say something wrong…?�� “No… Do you ride one yourself?” You laughed. “I wish! But no, I’m just interested. My father was a MotoGP fan; looks like he passed on his passion to me.” “Wait, really?” “Yeah! You don’t believe me?” you teased. “No! It’s just that not many people are interested in it.” “Well… You found a comrade!” He simply nodded, smiling, his head full of things he’d like to talk to you about motorcycles, but reality interrupted. “We should go now, you’re already really late.” You gasped. How could you forget? You walked beside him, and he used his badge to get the both of you inside.

You had to stop by Devon’s office to apologize for being late. He, of course, accepted your apologies, but made it clear that he wouldn’t tolerate it if it became a habit-and that was only fair… Returning to your desk, which was just in front of Thomas’, the ginger-haired boy raised his head to catch your attention. “Is something the matter?” you asked. “No… I just wanted to know, since you seemed really interested… Would you like a motorcycle ride one day?” You thought your ears were playing tricks on you. “You mean… On your bike? With you…?” “Who else?” Now you were the one surprised. But you couldn’t refuse such an offer. “I’d be delighted!” Thomas nodded at your answer. “I don’t have a second helmet with me, but I can bring that tomorrow… If you want.” “Of course! Let me treat you with dinner as a thank you then.” “If you really want to.” You smiled while sitting back on your chair, satisfied. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at your colleague who seemed pretty content too. You were already imagining it-a ride on this amazing motorcycle (maybe not at full speed, for obvious reasons), the wind all around you, a delicious dinner… And Thomas’ company. You almost slapped your face when you realized what you were thinking about. You quickly started working, not allowing your thoughts to drift any further. You couldn’t wait for tomorrow evening…

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 23: Stalker

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

One week on...

Several days had passed since your affair with Cillian came to light and it came much to your surprise when, on Friday morning you saw something strange by the side of your block.

For the past four days now, there had been a black Mercedes lurking in the shadows of wherever you went and, if it wasn't for one part of your mind telling you not to be delusional, you thought that you were being followed. 

Thinking about how absurd being followed sounded though you almost shook it off as a figment of your imagination or perhaps your guilty conscience exaggerating, but something about all this felt rather odd and even your best friend Enna agreed. 

"The car is there again," you pointed out to Lucy as the two of you walked to the hospital together for your shift. " And I swear, it's been there the entire time. I could see it from the window upstairs."

Lucy raised an eyebrow at you, her curiosity piqued. "Are you sure it's the same car?" she asked, skepticism clear in her voice.

"Yes, I'm sure," you replied firmly. "Look, it's right there," you said, gesturing towards the parking lot. "It was parked outside the hospital yesterday too when I finished up my shift and I have seen it before in front of Cillian's unit," 

Lucy glanced over in the direction you were pointing and noticed the black Mercedes parked a few rows over. "Okay, fine. It does seem strange," Lucy conceded reluctantly. "But maybe it's just a coincidence?" she suggested, the doubt evident in her voice.

You shook your head adamantly. "No way, Em. It even parkes in the same spot every day. I'm telling you, someone is watching me."

Lucy gave you a concerned look, her normally bright and cheerful expression replaced with a more somber one. "Have you reported this to the police?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You sighed heavily, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "I can't really go to the police with this, Em. I mean, what am I going to tell them?" you asked, sighing deeply. "That I have been having an affair with my ex-boyfriend's father and now I suspect that his crazy ass wife might be stalking me?" you said, feeling utterly ridiculous at the mere prospect of uttering such ridiculous and scandalous words out loud. "Oh, and by the way, he is a famous actor too and she almost leaked a sex-tape of us after hiding a camera in his bedroom," you added sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Lucy nodded understandingly. "Yeah, maybe not the best approach," she admitted. "But have you tried talking to Cillian about it?"

"No, because he already has enough shit to worry about," you told her, thinking about the turmoil that your affair had caused in his life. From the moment that Max had walked in on the two of you, nearly everything had spiraled out of control. Max had was refusing to speak to his father, and Danielle had threatened to ruin his career by leaking the sex-tapes if he didn't end things with you immediately. In the end, Cillian's attorney filed for an emergency injunction to prevent her from leaking the tape whilst, at the same time, serving her with divorce papers. 

"I get that Y/N, but his wife is a nutcase. I read the medical files and whilst I do think that you are a little paranoid right now, you should at least talk to him about your concerns, just to err on the side of caution I mean," Lucy implored, her eyes fixed on yours, searching for understanding.

"I know, Em, but I don't even know where we will go from here," you confided, feeling the tight knot in your throat as you spoke. "We aren't in a relationship or anything and I feel like I need to give him some space right now. I don't want to burden him with my paranoia," you added, the words heavy with resignation.

Lucy nodded sympathetically, her heart going out to you in this moment. She knew how much you cared for Cillian, but she also knew the impact of the situation and the weight of the decisions that now lay before you both.

"I know Y/N, but you are still sleeping with him, are you not?" Lucy asked, concern clouding her features as she looked over at you.  "Because his ex could have gotten wind of it and do something stupid now," Lucy worried. 

"Yes, we slept with each other once since the incident at his house. He's been in Ireland mostly," you admitted, your voice barely audible. Emotion clogged your throat as you recalled the tenderness in Cillian's touch, the gentle brush of his lips on yours that had made you feel wanted and desired despite the turmoil in your lives. But that one time together had only added fuel to the wildfire of passion that could not be contained anymore. In spite of the chaos, you couldn't resist the temptation, and neither could he.

"And what did his lawyer say? Didn't he make it clear that you should keep your distance from each other at least until the separation hearing was over?" Lucy asked, another wave of concern sweeping over her.

"He did, I know. But we were careful. We met at a hotel, not his apartment," you explained, sighing deeply as you reflected on the intense, passionate encounter. "Cillian was upset and asked if he could see me. I could hear it in his voice that he was struggling so I said yes," you admitted with a shrug, your tone nonchalant and yet, cracking with emotion, evidence that you were still reeling from the gravity of the situation.

Lucy shifted her weight towards you. She hadn't seen you this distraught since your father's death and witnessing your heartbreak now made her feel helpless and frustrated.

"Okay, let me ask you something, Y/N," Lucy stated, searching deep into your eyes as she chose her words carefully. "Do you truly love him? I mean, enough to deal with all this drama and keep seeing him despite the potential backlash to your career if this comes out?" Lucy's voice was soft and sincere, her gaze steady on yours.

You let out a pained sigh, your shoulders slumping with the weight of the question. "I don't know, Em. All I know is that I've never felt this way before, and I can't seem to shake him off. Not that I even want to. I just wish things were different, you know? That we had met under other circumstances, which wouldn't make it so bad," you sighed, your voice trembling as you spoke the words.

"I will always have your back Y/N, but just think about it for a minute," she began, her tone gentle yet firm. "Cillian is over twenty years older than you. His family dynamics are a mess, and he is your ex-boyfriend's father nonetheless which means that, if it was to come out - and it will come out eventually - then the press will have a field day with it. Your life and career will be covered in headlines that will ruin everything you've worked for thus far," Lucy warned, and she was right.

But you struggled to push Cillian out of your mind. He was charming, experienced, passionate, and so unlike Max. The attraction was instant and undeniable.

"I know that, Lucy. I know that it is reckless, but he makes me feel things I can't even describe. He is not just a fling, not just a temporary high, but someone who understands me, someone who fills in the spaces that no one else ever could," you confessed while walking side by side with Lucy, the hospital already in sight.

Lucy nodded, letting out a deep breath. "Then you need to protect yourself and be prepared for whatever comes next," she advised, as she touched your arm comfortingly. "That includes talking with Cillian about your potential stalker," she told you and, just as you approached the hospital entrance, the black Mercedes pulled up as well. 

"This is ridiculous. I am going to confront this woman," you declared, breaking away from Lucy to stride towards the parked car but Lucy stopped you. 

"No, you won't! It could make things worse," Lucy warned, grabbing your arm to stop you. 

You paused, considering her words. "You have a point," you said, taking a deep breath. 

"Talk to Cillian about it and let him deal with his crazy ass wife," Lucy told you. She knew how dangerous Danielle could be as well after having read her medical files and knowing about the threats she had made against you and Cillian.

"I will talk to him tonight," you assured Lucy, making up your mind but, just as you walked into the hospital's reception area, you were met with yet another surprise as Max was standing there, seemingly waiting for you.

"Max!" you exclaimed, your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach as you saw the cold, hard look in his eyes. "What are you doing here?" you wanted to know, hoping that he wouldn't make a scene as, seemingly, he appeared somewhat intoxicated. 

Max simply stared at you for a moment, his blue eyes full of anger and hurt before he blurted out something rather inappropriate to upset you. 

"You are such a fucking home wrecker, you know that?" Max spat bitterly, with a drunken slur, causing you to wince at his unforgivable choice of words. "My father is divorcing my mother because of you!" Max snapped, jabbing a finger at you as his anger started to boil over. 

"Max, please! Not here!" you told him sternly, looking around at the people in the hospital lobby who were casting curious glances your way. "Let's go somewhere private and talk."

"Oh, of course," he chuckled drunkenly. "You don't want anyone else to hear that you fucked my fucking father," he snarled, the hurt and anger in his voice palpable.

People around you had started to stare as Max's voice had risen. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, the discomfort and shame building up in the pit of your stomach.

"Come with me. Now," you hissed firmly under your breath, gripping tight onto Max's forearm as you dragged him away from the prying eyes in the hospital lobby, his words stinging your heart with an unbearable pain.

You had never intended for such chaos to unfurl when you became entangled with Cillian, knowing fully that your actions carried the potential for significant collateral damage. But yet, here you were—plunged into murky waters, powerless to stem the tide of destruction.

In a small consultancy room, a few corners away from the main lobby, you closed the door behind you and spun around to face Max, whom you hadn't seen since the disastrous confrontation in Cillian's apartment.

"Max, listen to me," you began, your voice low and soothing as you tried to reason with him. "I never meant for any of this to happen. Your father and I—we never planned for any of this. We just connected and one thing led to another," you continued before Max interrupted you.

"You slept with my father! Do you know how fucked up that is?" Max said, his words slurring together. "Is that like a thing you are into? Some kind of fetish?" Max sneered, his dark eyes flashing angrily at your words. "Or did you sleep with him because he is famous? Is that it?" Max went on, unable to contain his disgust. " What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N?" Max demanded, his voice shaking with emotion.

You swallowed hard, the lump forming in your throat as you struggled to find the right words to defend yourself but nothing came out.

"This is so disgusting," Max muttered, his anger slowly giving way to sadness as he slumped down into one of the faded leather consulting chairs, staring blankly ahead as he tried to process the turn of events. "God, we used to date and now you are sleeping with my dad. How low can you get?"

You took in a sharp breath at his words, trying to find purchase in the face of his bitterness yet being unable to deny the devastating truth behind it. You couldn't explain to him the intimacy and the connection you shared with Cillian—things that went beyond sex. Things that Max was not privy to. Things that you had never experienced in your previous relationships either.

So, you decided not to divulge too much at that moment.

Instead, you opted to stand there, silent for a while, allowing Max to gather his thoughts. The atmosphere in the room had grown thick and heavy.

Finally, you took a deep breath. "You have every right to feel angry, betrayed, and confused," you began to explain. "I can assure you that what happened between your father and me was never intended. It just... well, it happened and I, uhm, I am in love with him," you admitted softly. You buried your gaze into the carpeted floor, the weight of your guilt and embarrassment making it difficult for you to face him. You could feel the temperature in the room drop significantly, as if it shares the same discomfort he felt.

"Are you fucking serious?" Max suddenly exploded, jumping up from his chair in disbelief and shock.  "He's nearly twenty years older than you, for Christ's sake!" he was almost shouting now, his words reverberating off the walls of the small room, causing you to jump in your seat. "Fuck, I know," he then said, chuckling. "You have daddy issues," he asserted before explaining himself. "Your father died and now you are fucking mine. It's like a sick fucking fantasy coming to life, isn't it?" Max said, a mixture of bitterness and disgust in his voice.

You couldn't help but feel as though he had slapped you across the face. The words he had just spoken to you were beyond cruel, and they cut you like a knife. Your whole body trembled with shock and anger, your hands shaking like a leaf.

Standing up to confront you some more, Max approached you. "So, tell me Y/N, seriously, how does it feel to have someone old enough to be your father between your legs? Does it give you a twisted sense of pleasure or fulfillment? Because, Jesus, that is some seriously twisted stuff you have going on there in your head," Max went on. "It's a shame your own father couldn't fulfill those fantasies for you before he died and you had to go after mine instead," he then added with a sarcastic snicker, the cruelty in his voice visibly increasing and, by this point, you couldn't take it anymore and lashed out and slapped him right across the cheek.

​"Enough!" you said with great emotion in your voice at the mentioning of your father. 

Max had struck a nerve with his insensitive and derogatory words ad you stared at him in disbelief. His cheek was now flushed red from the force of your slap and, for a moment, neither of you spoke, caught up in the stunned silence that hung in the air.

"I never intended to hurt you or your family, Max. I deeply regret what has happened and I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused," you told him, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"Save it Y/N! Just know that you ruined not only mine, but also my mother's life," Max spat bitterly, his words cutting you deeply as he turned around and stormed out the room.

Hot, angry tears trailed down your cheeks as you watched him leave, your heart heavy with guilt, regret, and sadness and when Lucy came to check on you, she found you slumped over the cold steel of the examination table in the consultancy room, your body trembling with sobs, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You didn't need to tell her what happened, Lucy could read you like an open book. She took you into her arms and held you close as you cried for the hurt you had inflicted and the relationship that could never be salvaged.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

[sakurabutterflyart]

Without you (Delta Dawn x John Dory 🧡💙)

(ART/IG: @/ burntzbread) [note: hope you don't mind me using you art as reference, I'll take it down if you don't, it's sorta my inspiration while writing this TT]

(WARNING: English is not my first language)

The trolls in the Country Village, Lonesome Flats. Have known Mayor Delta and John Dory's relationship for a year now. No they weren't dating, they're just close, really close. But they can tell that they really like each other, it annoys them why neither one of them confesses yet.

Though not many country trolls really like John Dory. Cause first of all, he's a pop troll, some of his songs made them sick, he's too loud and even too touchy. Most of all, they worried that it might affect their beloved Mayor and Sheriff from his contagious pop troll nature, that'll affect their village as well.

So yeah, nobody really like nor accept John Dory living in Lonesome Flats... or so they thought.

One day, the rumour of John Dory leaving was spread throughout town. Some rejoices while some really misses him, since he has been a very kind and helpful pop troll to them.

Delta was aware that her friend was part of a band, which is his brothers. JD decided to pay his brothers for a visit, cause its almost been a year since the last time he saw them after saving Floyd. Which means that he has to leave from the country village for a week or 2, leaving everything behind here, that includes Delta.

"Are you gonna be okay while I'm gone?" The turquoise-haired troll asked and held her hand, while carrying both his belongings at his back and holding Rhonda's keys to his other palm. Worried about leaving her behind.

"Pfft! I'll be fine sweetie, you're being so dramatic. I'm a grown lady." The red haired lady scoffed. "You go spend time with your brother, you've already helped us long enough here. Go have a vacation to your real home, dear."

Even though she said that, JD knows that she's not gonna be. For the past few months he knew her. Delta may seem like she's a very tough fiesty mayor that kept everyone safe. He can tell that she's lonely, feeling the pressure of holding responsibility for everyone... much like himself for his family...

The man grabbed her warm hands, caressing in reassurance with an anxious expression on his face "Look, I promise... I'll visit as soon as I can to check on you and everyone... then, we'll go on a date! "

The lady snicker at his sudden silliness, breaking the heavy tension  between them. As expected from him, he always know how to cheer her up... that's what she loves about him....

"Hah, darling, I've already taken care of this village for the past what? 10 years? I can handle your disappearance for another 2 weeks, maybe even a year. And for the last time!  Im NOT going on a date with you! " She joked, giving him an evil smirk. Making him play along again, by acting like someone just stabbed his heart.

"Owww my lady that hurts." He giggled,  making Delta's heart felt a little lighter from joy.

JD turned around, about to enter into Rhonda, but then she saw him turn around,  hesitating to do something. 

Before she could even respond,  she was caught by surprise when JD charged at her with a smirk. He suddenly lifted her up with a hug... like, man! He's so strong! (Or did he secretly work out for this moment hehe) After a few moments of embracing her, he placed her down. But little did Delta know that's not his only surprising gesture.  He rested his lips on her cheeks, embracing this moment he gets to have.

JD immediately run to Rhonda and shut the door before Delta could even hit him with her horse shoes. She blushed deep shades of red, very flustered of what he just did.

"Mr. JOHN DORY!  Don't expect a warm welcome once you've come back!  You're gonna be kissing my fist when you returned!" She yelled, actually out of embarrassment.

"Can't wait honey!" He winked, as he sped up Rhonda so she won't be able to chase him to the driver's seats windows.

And with that... JD just disappeared out of thin air. Like how it was before... it suddenly got... quiet . She thought,  holding the light pressure of JD's lips on her cheek. With a sad expression that everyone in Lonesome Flats noticed... she was missing him already...

Delta turned around and saw that everyone staring at her, "What are you guys doing?  Get back to work!"

She scolded,  that everyone got scared and immediately mind their own business.

TIMESKIP

After JDs disappearance. The country trolls went on their usual routine. That includes Delta Dawn's job as Mayor and Sheriff.

Of course it wasn't the same without John Dory. Hanging around with the guys while playing pop-country songs together with their guitar and helping her around while also cracking jokes to make it more fun.  She find it annoying back then, but she never would've thought she was starting to look for it. Now it was quiet, having lunch alone in her office.

When she came home, she saw Clamper looking a little down while doing her homework. It was an unusual sight,  since whenever she came home she immediately runs to JD to get some upsies,  while he plays along and playfully toss her to the air. Now she just gave her aunt a joyful smile and hug "Hey Aunt Delta, welcome home! "

"Hey my sweet baby, ya hungry?"

"Yes ma'am!" She exclaimed, wanting to light up the mood.

Days went on, work, stress here and there.  The usual routine of going to work, checking up the town, and going home to take care of her niece, repeat for the past week. Then it gets more busy that the country trolls started to notice more changes from Delta ever since the blue haired pop troll disappeared.

Before he came to their lives, Delta was already doing just fine, being a workaholic,  while singing songs in her free time about being "Born to Die" , her life feeling like a routine.

When  that pop troll came, the women who seems to be nothing but work become more and more lively.  They keep seeing her smile and even laugh, being more in the moment. That even her songs becomes a bit more lively. She's even more softer than her tough personality that everyone feared whenever she gets angry,  VERY angry with her temper...

Which is actually...  happening when he left. But worse.

"The Delta Dawn" before John Dory, was back . Not only was she back from being a workaholic, even her temper that everyone feared returned. Another few days has passed, especially when the Country Trolls became busy for an upcoming busy event, she's becoming more stressed and hot headed.

Everybody knows that Delta is just being leader, that she has to be tough for her people to listen, without any bad intention of hurting them. In fact everybody knows she's kind and sweet deep down. But her toughness can get scary that her workers won't be in peace when she is angry.

"Hey I told you to clean this area!"

"Why are the bathrooms sink not fixed yet?!"

"The thieves did what?! Where are they?!"

"I didn't waste the village's finances for it to be nothing! Where's the thing i asked for?!"

Eventually Delta realised her roughness towards her village for the past few days and apologises.

Though everyone was starting to worry about her, despite the fact she apologises. The red haired trolls aura is becoming more scary for them to approach their leader.

"Oh goodness!  Our dear Sheriff has been so stress lately!" A villager spoke,  trying to be quiet so she won't hear them.

"She really needs to rest. She's overexerting herself "

"I can't believe I'm saying this, where is that Pop dude she's always around with?!" A guy asked

"That weirdo?  He came home to visit his bros to the pop village. "

"Well dangitty-doodly! We really need this dude back here if we don't want her to explode at us, especially on tomorrow's very special day!"

And with that,  the country trolls are now starting to look for JD's presence. His their only hope for Delta to calm down.

The day came, everything is going really well with the event. The decorations are aesthetically decorated, music played softly and beautifully,  couples dancing around , giving flowers here and there whether they're friends,  family and lovers...  Yes, it's Valentine's Day.

Everyone is having a great time, Delta? She is, she recieve flowers from Clampers and from her villagers, thanking her for all the hardwork she has done, which made her feel a little better.

She wasn't suppose to go out for Valentine's Day,  she even made sure that everything's finish yesterday.  The lights, the heart shape sweets,  the roses and the music. Everything was done,  even her  own people doesn't mind her resting for this event. But as the Mayor, she was needed. She needs to do the speech of the opening event and gets called out whenever there's an emergency. Unfortunately for her, this year's Valentine's Day is torture for her.

TIMESKIP

It's late evening, the Sheriff finally lays down in her office's coach out of exhaustion.  Finally gets to get away from all of those romantic couples cuddling in public and also some quarrelling between lovers or friends. It was very exhausting.  Thankfully the day is finally over. Being Mayor and Sheriff is tiring,  but it was all worth it to see everyone having a great time.

She sigh, decided to get up and grab some wine that she received. Enjoying the peace and breeze of the night, admiring the lights of her village. She felt a hint of sadness in her chest, as she grabbed some roses, loving the scent, absent-mindedly pluck each petals and let some fall from her window.

"Why do you have to leave? ... in such a very special day... John Dory..." She whispered.  Finally admitting that she misses him. Secretly missing his company, his jokes, his romantic gestures, his cheesy romantic songs and even simply his comforting words whenever she felt the stress of being a leader.

Since when did she gets so attach to him? That life's never been the same without him.

"Why? Do you really wanted me to kiss your fist so badly?" She almost choke at the wine she drunk when she heard a very familiar voice that she haven't heard for 2 weeks.

He was not in her room, she looks around and then spotted a turquoise-haired troll at the side of her window, climbing at the walls with a wide teasing grin on his face that she knows too well. "Hey Ms. Mayor, looking like a hottie as always... Miss me?"

He flirted, internally laughing at her reaction. Though he can't help but lovingly admired her, even by just her presence. "But seriously Delta... you're looking beautiful as always... I miss you..."

She was stunned that she can't say anything but stare, when he finally came in through the window. The silence made John Dory a little scared. Is she mad that he returned late? Or from what he had done from the last time they saw each other?!

"Delta... I'm sorry, my brothers and I have a little bit of an issue back in Pop village and-"

He wasn't able to finish it, when he felt arms went around him, embracing him tightly. The red-haired troll hid her face through his chest, holding him close.

"I thought you weren't coming back..." She spoke up. John was stunned as realization hit him.

"What are you talking about? Of course I'm coming back, I promise didn't I? Not even in this special day... with my favorite lady here, I'm sorry im a bit late..." He was trying to get her to look up, but she doesn't want to,  but just glued herself to his chest, refusing to show her face of which he understood.

Instead, he just caresses the locks of her and returned her embrace, staying quiet for a few minutes and enjoying the peaceful silence they have together.

When they finally let go, Delta immediately wipe her tears and started to act like she never cried at all. JD just pretended that he never saw her puffy eyes and just smiled, that he finally gets to see her again.

"Here... Happy Valentine's day."  He grabbed a rose from the bouquet he was bringing, then pluck the stem along with its thorns, to place the lovely red rose to behind her ears. While giving her the rest of the bouquet.

With that,  they enjoyed the rest of the evening catching up, as they stargaze and loving the view of the village. Drinking some wine and sweets, with romantic country music playing outside.

The Sheriff felt all the heaviness in her chest was lifted and was refreshed by the peace, simply by having his partner by her side.

Yes, this is got to be her most favorite Valentine's Day night...

BONUS: The next day? Yep! The country village was overjoyed of JDs return, dramatically begging him to not leave, and shockingly even ask him to marry the red-haired troll. Which leave the pop troll REALLY confused of their sudden clinginess.

"Umm did I miss something?..."

---

(Thanks for reading!  Please leave a LIKE and a COMMENT and REBLOG, to support this fanfic and if you guys want MORE of this!

and advance Happy Valentine's Day!^^)

[cherryfennec]

Bad End AU lore question, do the other know that Super Dimentio is both Luigi and Dimentio?

If they do, can they tell who's in control? And how do they feel about them/what's their dynamic? I'm guessing Bowser prefers Luigi just because of how annoying the clown is

I'm also really curious about the Shadow Queen, is it like Super Dimentio with the queen never letting Peach take control, or is Peach completely dormant since it's possession and not a fusion? (If i remember the game correctly)

And how does Luigi feel about it? Having to hang out with an enemy wearing his friend's face?

This is going to be a long one, so long I've put it under 'read more'. Alright, here goes!

1. For a while no, they don't know!

When they initially meet, Shadow Queen literally has no idea who this is, she does recognise the poncho though. The only thing that's clear to her then and there is that this person is connected to the thief, she just doesn't know exactly how yet. However Bowser does recognise the mustache and the hat, saying it's the brother of his old enemy who's named Luigi.

And that's how it kind of stays for a while. They know him as just Luigi.

Soon enough the weird behaviour rears it's head. He starts talking to seemingly himself, changing expressions and voice tone, contrasting the one before, on the spot during discussions, tolerating something and then suddenly acting malicious towards it. Fighting with himself even, you'd be just doing something and he appears for a split second slamming himself against the wall then vanishing.

Peach certainly figures out what's going on. From there forward she manages to overhear Dimentios name and also confirms that the thief still has the Chaos Heart. While Bowser is aware of the strange behaviour and everything he can't quite name why it happens. He explains it to himself as the brother simply going crazy after the disappearance of Mario.

2. There are two ways to tell who's in control at the moment. The first one is what helps the most often.

Body language. Observation is key, and luckily for others Luigis and Dimentios old habits die hard.

Dimentio is loud spoken and likes to make jabs at others. His tone is most often sly, which also shows on his face with a sharp grin and squinted eyes. His gestures are more elegant alongside the general way he moves. He still prefers floating to walking and uses magic for the smallest of inconveniences. If any of these traits are present it's most likely Dimentio that you're looking at!

Luigi's more soft spoken and doesn't speak in 'riddles'. He tends to have his eyes fully open and his expressions, like his smile, are generally less exaggerated. He's the type to walk and jump everywhere, not relying on magic because he 1.never needed it before and 2. still perfectly can't use it. He tends to hunch over and has a tendency to trip. If you're not being currently insulted and belittled in the weirdest way imaginable, congrats! You're talking to Luigi!

This isn't always very reliable buuuut sometimes this can happen:

The default tint of the eyes is white, its when they're acting in mutual agreement. The tint is more blueish if it's Luigi. However when it's more of Dimentio speaking there's a chance for this hue to alter to purple and yellow. As I mentioned this is a bit unreliable because it's already hard to notice in the first place since its such a slight difference and lighting can mess with how it appears.

3. Peach likes to exploit others for her gain, and she quickly learns that getting something from this one won't be easy. Trying to trick a trickster such as Dimentio seems like an impossible task, a raccoon and fox trying to fool eachother basically deal. That leaves Luigi but guess what, not that much better with him either. The 'brother of a fallen hero' is smarter than he looks, albeit a little more open minded to small suggestions. She overall has a slight preference towards Dimentio though, she finds him very fascinating. And that's exactly why he tries to ignore her when he can pfff

Bowser definitely prefers when Luigi acts like y'know, Luigi. Just like you said, he finds the other one annoying. Bowsers relationship with Luigi is overall weird, while he's very irritated by the clowns antics and wouldn't mind shutting him up for good, he can't help but feel some sort of sympathy. These two have a bit of history, whether it be direct or more because of Mario, and it just might be enough to make Bowser not absolutely despise him and have at least a smidge of patience and understanding.

4. As you mentioned yes it's possession, and not a fusion. Peach's mind, unlike Luigis, is dormant. Some of her behaviours can shine through but it's mostly remnants. If you're curious I'll just say it as a fun fact: if you managed to somehow rip out/get rid of the Shadow Queen from the body, Peach would come back like from a long nap. You can probably imagine how'd she react to everything that's happened while she was gone... yeah...

5. Not fun. Since only Luigi knew who Peach was before, all the attachment comes from him. She has gone from someone he could talk to about everyday life, meet up to play normal games while not risking his health and just have an overall great time with, to a person who he's sure would dissect him on a table if given an opportunity. He's not wrong.

He still calls her Princess despite her insisting on Queen. He does it as a memento of the past, while Dimentio calls her Princess just to make her even more upset.

[plus-i-miss-you]

hi!!! could i request mikoto or/and kotoko with a socially awkward prisoner reader? have a great day ^^!

▷ listening to:

"it's okay, i'll sit next to you even in silence" (gn!reader)

⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılıㅤ

♪ note: hello hello! sorry this took so long, but i hope you still enjoy reading it <3

♪ summary: it doesn't matter if social interactions are a bit hard for you, because your intimidating wolf girlfriend and/or your boyfriend that looks like he was made at a regular guy factory would still love you the same.

♪ warnings: none! also you can interpret these hcs as being in a relationship with both of them or separately. also kotoko might be a bit ooc.

mikoto kayano.

♪ oh.. you're a quiet one, aren't you? well, that's okay! he doesn't mind, really, he finds it kinda cute- ah, that probably sounded rude, haha.. it can be a little hard for mikoto to understand what you want to say sometimes, but he really will try his best to understand it. you can write him a note or point at an object and he will go ":O!! okay i get it now :D" he will also try not to be too overwhelming for you, so if you feel like your social battery is running out, you can always tell him to stop, he won't be mad at you or anything! he just wants you to feel comfortable.

♪ mikoto can notice when you're feeling like you don't want to participate in a conversation or finding it hard to find the right words to say, so if you don't mind, he will say the things you want to say for you! or even if you don't want to actually talk to anyone, but it's obvious that you have something to say, he will help you with anything you might struggle with. for example, maybe you don't like your food, but you're too scared to say anything about it, he will notice it and ask if you want to have some of his instead. it might take him a while to notice that something is wrong, but he really is trying his best and you appreciate it a lot.

♪ when mikoto is feeling tired, he actually finds your presence very comforting. it's like.. he doesn't have to act like everything is okay, maybe? also he really does find your awkwardness cute! it's okay, you don't have to say anything! he's just happy to be here with you. when you two hang out, it's either mikoto doing most of the talking or you two just chilling and doing your own thing, but still enjoying each other's company. maybe it's mikoto explaining you something and you just nodding, or him drawing something while you do something else, but still softly poke his shoulder, basically asking if it's okay to take a look.

♪ mikoto understands that being socially awkward can be very hard and you may feel lonely or isolated from others in some way. it's okay, he has moments like that too sometimes. he doesn't know what it was like for you before milgram and he's actually a little worried about you, but he hopes that you can at least feel more comfortable here and it's not too hard for you to talk to other prisoners. and if you're having any trouble, you can always ask him for help!

kotoko yuzuriha.

♪ oh, so.. social interactions are hard for you? okay. no, seriously, she's fine with it. you thought she would leave you or something like that? nope, as you try to explain to kotoko that you have some problem with socializing, she just nods and keeps her usual face expression but on the inside? she's going "GOD I WANT TO PROTECT THEM FROM EVERYTHING SO BAD". there must be some kind of reason why socializing is hard for you, right? it's okay, she won't ask unless you want to talk about it. but if anyone in this prison decides to even lightly tease you about this, it's on sight.

♪ kotoko is not really a "loud" person herself and she's not that extroverted, so you feel surprisingly comfortable around her. it's just.. because of her face expression and tone of voice, you can't help but feel like you've done something wrong most of the time. so when she notices that you're acting kinda weird and asks you what happened and you scream because of how scared you are and start apologizing.. okay, you really are hiding something from her, aren't you. 

♪ when you finally tell her the truth and say that you just find her a little bit.. intimidating, she just goes "... oh" and sighs. okay, yeah, she can't deny that she probably has a vibe like that. she actually apologizes for scaring you and says that she can't really control it, but at least this way she can scare off anyone who tries to hurt you. she looks at you and sees a cute little bunny shaking and crying and in need of someone protecting them from this cruel world. all of this in a good way.

♪ you two literally have the "they asked for no pickles" dynamic. if you're having problems with anything, kotoko is already here. you don't know why she's here. you don't know how and when she got here. she's just here, standing right behind your back and asking what's wrong. actually, you don't have to answer, she already knows. who does she have to kill- beat up. she meant beating someone up. what do you mean it's not better. okay, she'll just kill them then. no? okay. okay sorry. she just loves you a lot. please let her protect you.

[howdoesagrapewrites]

im not the anon who asked for something like tricycle but HEAR ME OUT what if like something where the reader has to travel outside the country and pav and gayatri are like “what ?? we’re coming w you tf ?” and you and gayatri have to point out that hes spiderman … and cant leave … so then you ask gayatri to stay behind for him and idk where else to go from here 😭

𝙃𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙨

Cw: slight angst/comfort, poly!gn!reader x Pavitr Prabhakar x Gayatri Singh, long distance relationship, depressive behavior

Notes: I had to use an online roulette to tell me if I should make angst or fluff, fluff won. I interpreted this as "they're moving away" but if this isn't what you wanted, just tell me

>You were horrified as you heard them tell you that you were leaving the country

>You tried to protest, be logical, be emotional, cry, lay a well researched and sensible argument, beg, anything in your control to convince them otherwise, but your tutor just won't budge

>You had the biggest fight over this

>You locked in your room, refusing to speak to anyone as you cried and cracked your head open thinking about how you'd explain this to your partners, what would they think? You want to communicate this the best way possible, is there even a good way to do it?

>You didn't answer texts, and you hated yourself for it, you hated yourself for getting shut down and wasting the little time you have left

>You didn't want your partners to feel neglected or think you were mad at them, so you made sure to tell them it was just issues in your home, and that they didn't do anything wrong

>And they tried to respect your alone time, they really did

>But four days was enough:( please

>Pavitr calls you, and you just start crying and word vomiting things that don't make any sense

>"jaanu, are you there?"

>"I am, but I won't, and I really- I-I mean that it won't be like this forever, and I really want to say it to you, but you'll feel sad, and I need you here, but then we have to talk and if we talk you'll - I'll- if we talk that means I have to go- I don't want to go"

>You sob even harder when you listen to the beep indicating he finalized the call, you are there just having an absolute meltdown, hugging your pillow as you rot on the bed you've been the whole week

>Your crying is loud, but loud enough to cancel out the loud banging on your window, it's your boyfriend (in his spiderman suit) carrying your girlfriend in his arms, waiting like two stray dogs for you to open the window

>He was really fast, he probably started swinging the second he hanged up

>You clumsily open the window, crying and struggling with the safe, to finally let them in, they almost knock you down on the floor with the strength they used to jump to hug you

>You hold them as a close as you can, they don't ask for explanations and carry you to your bed to cuddle until you calm down, always with reassuring words of "it's okay", "whenever you're ready", and infinite "I love you"s

>When you gather the strength to talk, completely forgetting whatever script you had in mind, they can't believe it

>"We're coming with you!" Gayatri blurts out, anxiously biting her lip, looking at Pavitr and then at you

>"That's right! We'll come with you, it'll be an adventure for the three is us!" Pavitr smiles, unaware of the million of flaws in his train of thought

>"You can't leave Mumbattan without a spiderman, love" you stroke his cheek looking to soothe his worries

>"And you can't leave him, Pavitr, your father, your country, everything you know and love is here"

>"Not everything" she said, a single tear cascading down her face, bitter expression

>Gayatri hugs you close, crying into your shoulder "not everything, not without you..."

>It took you some time to finally convince Gayatri to stay, took you even longer with Pavitr

>And it want easy, at times they'll come up with a newer crazier idea to travel with you

>You spent all the time you had left, glued to them

>and when it was time to say goodbye, they had to be physically restricted to leave the plane go without doing anything reckless

>You stayed on facetime with them almost 24/7, going to sleep on calls kind of thing.

>And you're just depressed in this new place, nothing is like home, nothing is as lively, as beautiful, as comfortable as Mumbattan

>after failing several classes, and practically snapping back at everything, your tutor agreed that you simply needed to go back, so they told you that if you couldn't find 5 reasons to stay here, you could go back and captain Singh would be entrusted with your care

>As much as it was physically painful to, you managed to keep it a secret

>And when december was here, you were counting the seconds to get in the plane. You failed the school year due to those early months, but you tried to stop dwelling on that, there's nothing you can do about it

>"what are you doing today?" -you

>"today's christmas silly, just staying home" -Gayatri

>"I wish you could be with us, captain Singh invited me and my Maya auntie for dinner" -Pavitr

>"damn, so you really have no time to do anything? Not even opening the door?" -you

>"What door are you talking about?" -Gayatri

>you knocked, Gayatri's breathing became irregular, so nervous and scared this was just a joke

>but she saw you with two backpacks, on her door, she couldn't contain herself, too much joy inside

>Pavitr heard the happy squealing and came running, they kissed you and smelled you hair, touching you like they were making sure you were real

>There's really no place like home

[livingfictional]

Hiya!!!

I just stumbled upon your blog, and you're match ups, I really like your content! :D I saw that your requests are open, and I thought I might as well request one! ^^

I would like to request a match up for COD and The Arcana. I am 19, female, and use she/they pronouns. I am also Pansexual (I don't have any gender preferences, we just gotta vibe and all is well✨️).

I really love listening to music and singing, I'm also an avid reader and have recently started down my path with practising witchcraft. I am not sure if this qualifies as a hobby, but I also enjoy taking my motorcycle out for a ride across the country whenever I have time (and money for gas 🥲). I do not do well in crowds or around loud and mentally draining people. Neither do I enjoy cooking because it, for some odd reason, drains me incredibly, baking on the other hand I enjoy thoroughly!

I speak English, German and Italian. My father is from Scotland🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 and my mother from Austria🇦🇹, I have an equally good connection with both sides of my relatives even though I am more in tune with my Austria side due to the fact that I grew up there.

I'm an INFP, I wouldn't call myself shy or skittish but I do struggle to build up relationships because of trust issues and fear of betrayal. I prefer a small circle of people around me, mostly calm and like minded people that know how to get me out of my shell. I'm also a big fan of animals and especially fond of dogs and cats (even though I'm allergic lol).

I hope that was enough info for a match-up! Have a wonderful day/night, Lily!✨️💜

Sorry you had to wait so long, thank you for your patience 🩵

I match you up with... Asra!

I genuinely think Asra would be the best choice for you.

Lazy mornings in the back of the shop. A mess of limbs tangled into the blankets as you slowly flip through the pages of your book.

Asra just lays there, watching your focused expression with a content smile. He could stare at you for hours. The shop won't run itself, though. Unfortunately.

He'll happily support your witchcraft journey, helping whenever possible. He grabs any and every book he thinks you might like.

Asra is one of the least draining people to be around, his company is always pleasurable. The atmosphere never feels heavy, and he can make the converation flow for hours on end. It always feels so natural and nice to be around him.

Might as well mention Faust, who fell in love with you just as Asra did. You can often find her perched up on your shoulders as you go about your day.

I match you up with... Soap!

Not an avid reader, doesn't always know what books to buy you. Just ask! He would buy the whole bookstore for you.

Johnny wants to spoil you, okay? He can be gone for long periods of time, and your books are the only thing keeping you company on cold winter evenings. So in his mind they are perfect gifts for you, might as well, with some help, get you one of those gift baskets with a fuzzy pair of socks, a blanket, some candy and books.

Before he has to leave, he will also take your bike and fill it up for you. Can't afford gas? Well, he can. Go for your ride sweetie :3

Slow evenings with him after he comes back from being deployed are the best. You guys are full after getting takeout from your favorite place, you've got a fire going in the fireplace and a random movie is playing on TV.

To be fair, you are not paying attention to it at all. You're brushing your fingers through his dark hair as he goes on about anything and everything.

Just as with Asra, conversations with Johnny are so natural to you, nothing ever feels forced. You guys can talk for hours and not get bored.

He can be more on the hyper side, but next to you, he can truly unwind. He will lie on top of you, placing his head over your heart.

[paragonrobits]

thinking a lot about the angst and hurt/comfort potential in Finn, as he gets older and starts going into the same depressive spirals he canonically has pretty often (see: the fruit witch incident and him being pretty quick to start sadly musing on whether Jake, Marceline and Bubblegum even ARE his friends or care about him at all in What Was Missing, or his recurring tendency to just shut down all his sad feelings and aggressively put any bad memory into a Vault so he never has to think about anything bad) and following Jake's death, without Jake to serve as a lightening presence in his life, Finn starts to quietly spiral inward in a way that has him...

not DISTANCING himself from Bubblegum and Marceline (canonically his closest friends in the world, and he is arguably the closest person TO them, and the person that can moderate their respective view points when the two of them start having issues Getting each other), but he starts having doubts about himself and their friendship, so he very quietly is smiling and nodding and in the inside screaming about how of COURSE they don't REALLY need him or want him in their lives, why would they

its a quiet kind of spiraling. He doesn't say things out loud, and that's his problem. He doesn't tell them much, and increasingly starts showing up less and less; Jake would have noticed him starting to have one of his moments and curtailed it right away, but PB and Marceline, as much as they love him, need to be in proximity to him to notice when something is amiss, and its hard to do that when he is going out of his way to conceal his feelings.

He starts doubting himself, and with that concludes that either he's not as close to them as he thought he was, or starts wondering if they just used him and are now discarding him like a broken sword that can't do its job anymore, or otherwise goes into a mentality of 'I don't deserve to be around them because I'm a fuckup and a failure'

In this state of mind, he doesn't think about the good he's done. He doesn't think about all the times he stopped the Lich, or how he dragged Ice King back into a mental space where he could form genuine connections. He doesn't think about how his name is a by-word for heroism, or that PB doesn't trust ANYONE and she trusts him with her life and family. He got Marceline to dare to trust in people even though its so much scarier than keeping a deliberate distance, because he wanted to be her friend and didn't care how dangerous or scary she was-

But he can't see this now. All he sees are the failures. He couldn't save Jake. He couldn't save Billy. And he still feels like he could have done more to help Simon with... everything. Maybe if he'd done it better Jake would still be alive, Betty wouldn't have to fuse with Golb, maybe maybe maybe he's just no good at anything.

PB and Marceline care about him; likely more than they care about anyone else. They trust him with their secrets, their lives, and their goals. They believe in him and the sincere uncomplicated good and desire to help people that they admire but can't entirely bear to do for themselves. But the thing is about it that they're busy besides, and not very demonstrative people at the best of times, and he's not good at noticing the small details.

Maybe he thinks he just doesn't belong anywhere, and most especially not with them; not people as accomplished and cool and just plain good as PB and Marceline. And more and more, the more he's around them, he starts interpreting PB's poor communication skills as lack of interest or even contempt, or Marceline's veiled ways of expressing herself as genuine indifference. They care about him, but he can't see it. He thinks, why WOULD they care about me?

Maye he starts thinking he really is just a joke or a knight to them; a tool that's breaking down and long past its utility point, a tired gimmick that isn't fun anymore so they're moving on to more interesting things.

It's not something he's angry about, or lashes out towards them. He thinks they're objectively right, in his little mental assumptions; he can't help but think of himself as ugly. Misshapen, brutish. He feels shameful and awkward around him, and he withdraws away, a bit at a time.

So the question is raised: what happens when PB and Marceline work this out, or have it directly confronted by some kind of situation that highlights it for them? When something happens so that Finn can't do anything but admit how ugly he feels around them, that all he can think about are his personal failures, or that they just don't want him around anymore.

Or perhaps they come to realize that Finn thinks maybe he should just fade away, be forgotten by a world that doesn't need or want something like him anymore.