#i feel like i'm in a race against the clock like i don't know WHEN time will run out but when it DOES

[moe-broey]

Oughhh I'm def running out of steam/am gonna be forced to at least slow down bc. I planned my med refills. Poorly.

[senawashere]

Carolina?

Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?

A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭

Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.

Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.

You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.

The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.

As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.

He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.

"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.

"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.

"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.

"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.

"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"

Wait a second, who is Carolina?

It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.

"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.

Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.

And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.

Or are they? No probably not.

Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.

But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.

Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.

Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.

But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?

You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.

No sign of another woman.

That’s good. Right?

Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.

"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.

You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.

"Who is Carolina?"

Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.

"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.

"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.

"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."

"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "

The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.

"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."

"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"

"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.

Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.

You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.

"A few days after that... I had a dream."

"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."

You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."

"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."

"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.

"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.

"About what?"

"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"

"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.

"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"

"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."

"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."

He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.

"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.

"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.

"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."

"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"

"It could be something else if it's a boy."

"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"

He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady

[wheeboo]

eyes don't lie | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which you and wonwoo have a late night conversation. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, comfort, lil angst if you think about it, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. conversations abt death, just 2 'besties' having deep talks :') WORD COUNT. 1.5k

notes: idk rlly know what this is and idk where i was going with it but i hope you enjoy lmao

"Do you think that when we die, we see black forever?"

You hear Wonwoo's phone shut off immediately at your question, and the silence that follows right after is almost suffocating, like you're holding your breath. You feel the bed dip right next to you𑁋probably from Wonwoo adjusting himself𑁋and then you feel the momentary contact of his arm against yours. He feels warm, like he always does.

Your brain is doing its runs, Wonwoo presumes, eyes gazing around your dimly-lit room before landing on you sprawled on the bed next to him, legs straight and eyes piercing up at the ceiling above. The only sounds he can hear is your synchronized breathing, the ticking of your clock on the wall, and the distant blare of car horns from the city outside.

You steal a glance at him, his silhouette barely visible in the moonlight filtering through the window. His forehead is creased, eyes shadowed in thought, nose crinkling for a brief second to rid of an itch. He's thinking about the question, and you swear you can visibly see the gears and cogs turning in his mind.

"Maybe," he finally says, voice barely a whisper. "Or maybe it's like that dreamless sleep we have at times. Nothingness, but not in a bad way. Just... a pause, I guess."

"A pause?" You lift a brow. "But wouldn't that be like... ceasing to exist?"

Wonwoo just shrugs, the movement barely discernible in the darkness. He shifts his body slightly, and maybe there's just a bit more space between you two because a sudden chill seems to course through you.

"Not exactly," he murmurs. "Think of it like a comma. It's not a full stop; it's a moment of quiet before the next chapter starts."

"The next chapter?"

He hesitates, then speaks cautiously, "It's... you know, like another life. We shed this skin, and become something else, somewhere else."

A hum leaves your lips, then a wave of silence washes over the room. It stretches for what feels like an eternity, and Wonwoo can't tell if you're lost in thought or waiting for him to elaborate. The moonlight pouring in from your bedroom window dances on the edges of the room, casting shadows that flicker like the thoughts swirling around you two.

"But... but don't get me wrong," Wonwoo adds, breaking the silence before it grows even longer. "It's not something to be scared of, I think. It's like... coming home. Finally understanding the story you've been living without even knowing the plot."

A quiet chuckle leaves your lips, soft as the rustle of leaves in a night breeze. It's a sound laced with both amusement and wonder, and it catches Wonwoo off-guard, sending a shiver down his spine, and maybe his heart to race a little faster too.

"What?" he asks, voice coming out a bit hoarse and deep.

"Just..." Your voice trails off, tracing patterns on your bedsheets below your fingers. "The way you put it. Coming home. It's comforting... somehow."

"Comforting?" he repeats, surprised. "Death usually doesn't get that label."

You snort, letting your body fully face him now. "I know. I just... I guess I'm a little scared. So I like to think that it's, um, different for everyone, you know? Like maybe... it's your favourite dream, or the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen, or a room with everyone you've ever loved. Or maybe..." You pause, unable to voice the thought twisting your gut. "...it's just nothing. Just darkness."

You watch as Wonwoo turns his body to face you fully, a soft, understanding smile playing on his lips. Your eyes drop down to his mouth for a second, a breath catching in your throat, before meeting his gaze. You've always admired how his eyes look, but there's something about it right now𑁋the way the lights catches them, like flecks of stardust scattered across the night sky𑁋that makes you feel so small.

Yet you also hate how it's so beautiful, like something you think you can look at forever, even though 'forever' is simply just a concept, isn't it?

So you really wish he can he can just freakin' close them𑁋

"Please don't look at me like that," You mutter aloud as you break the eye contact, feeling a sudden vulnerability run through you.

Wonwoo blinks, puzzled. "Huh? I'm just looking𑁋"

"You look at me like... like every𑁋actually, just forget about it." You suddenly sit up in bed, taking in a deep breath to calm your racing heart. "Forget everything I just said."

Your abrupt shift hangs heavy in the air, the unspoken words louder than any you'd spoken. Wonwoo's brows furrow as he sits himself up on your bed as well, a frown now etching across his features, his hand hovering in mid-air as if reaching out to you but unsure where to land.

"I... Did I say something wrong?" he asks, quietly and cautiously. Seriously, why does he have to exist? He's just looking at you, he's right, but the way he does it feels like he's seeing right through you, straight to the raw, exposed core of your fears and feelings. "I'm sorry if I did."

You shake your head. "No, you didn't. I-I'm sorry. I ruined the moment."

The air around you is thick with something unspoken, a lingering tension that hints at a conversation left unfinished. You can practically feel Wonwoo's gaze burning into the back of your neck, even though you can't bring yourself to look back at him. Your fingers play absentmindedly with the edge of your bedsheets, lips pursing together into a tight, straight line. You don't know where to go from here.

And then, Wonwoo takes a leap of faith. "Can you... tell me how I look at you?"

You feel yourself hesitate, the question catching you slightly off-guard, an unexpected flip of the script that leaves you momentarily speechless. It was like he'd plucked the very thought you wished he wouldn't voice: the one that made your throat constrict and your stomach flip. When you turn back to him, he's already looking at you, and you feel that vulnerable feeling again.

"It's like... I-I don't know. You just..." You begin, searching for the right words to say. "You look at me like you're telling me that everything's okay."

There's a dance of emotions that flicker on his face at your words, like he's trying to process everything and nothing at once.

"Oh," is all he mutters out, the single word hanging heavy in the air between you.

"Yeah, and I really hate you for that," You say heartedly, attempting to lighten the mood.

Wonwoo giggles nervously. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"For... um, looking at you like𑁋"

"No, I'm sorry for falling for you," You confess, a half-smile playing on your lips. "I tried not to, but... I did."

For a moment, the only sound is the rhythmic click of the clock on your wall. You watch him closely, heart hammering against your ribs, waiting for some reaction, any reaction. You almost wish you could take it back, swallow it whole and pretend it never happened.

"And I guess that's why I'm scared," You continue on, knowing there's no going back now. "scared to lose this, to lose you, that something as inevitable as... you know, death, will take it all away."

"You're not going to lose me," Wonwoo reassures. "I'm right here."

A small, appreciative smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "You say that like you can control everything."

"I know I can't," he admits with a gentle chuckle. "but I can promise to be here for as long as possible."

A heartbeat passes, then another. Wonwoo swallows, his throat suddenly feeling dry from your locked gazes. There's that look in his eyes again, the one that sends butterflies to your stomach and makes your heart flutter so clumsily. You feel the heat crawling up your cheeks, because dammit you really could push him off the bed right now.

You let out a cough, face feeling hot. "Anyway, can you reject me so I can move on?"

A playful grin stretches across his face. It starts small, perhaps a hesitant curve at the corner of his lips, but it blossoms quickly like a sunrise chasing away the night.

"Reject you?" he questions in disbelief, peering at you as if you were crazy. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"Well," You start. "because it's the only way for me to get over you, obviously. Oh, and so I can stop tripping over my own feet every time you're around and move on."

Wonwoo throws his head back and laughs, the sounds coming deep within his chest. You would never get tired of his laugh. "And who said I wanted to reject you?"

It's your turn for the smile to your face to fade just slightly, mouth agape as if you're about to say something, but nothing comes out.

Wonwoo scoffs. "I like you too, you know. I was just waiting for you to figure it out."

Now it's your turn to blink in disbelief.

"You... like me?"

He just shrugs, but the curve to his lips remains.

"Maybe that's why I look at you the way I do," he tells you, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours on the bed. "because you make everything feel okay."

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9

[maraudersmyloves]

I feel like it's so obvious in this that English isn't my first language cause why tf is it called a clock dial instead of a Ziffernblatt. It's lowkey making me mad. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: James potter x reader

Warnings: throwing up, not taking care of yourself, cursing, some angst

Word count: 1.7k

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Disclaimer 2: Third part is coming cause I'm really dragging this out at this point (It makes sense don't worry)

Sypnosis: The aftermath of losing your boyfriend and best friend leaves you in shambles

"Distance 2". :☆｡ﾟ. ────

part one

This morning you woke up with a feeling of dread you haven’t felt before and a throbbing pain in your head. You dreaded going down to the great hall, filled with people and food. You dreaded the thought of classes and having to see James and his Friends. You dreaded having to get into the shower and get ready with a pounding headache accompanying you.

For a second you debated just not doing said dreaded things, but you couldn’t allow yourself to wallow. No, you refuse to be affected by some boy's opinion of you. Who cares what he thinks? You were going to get shit done.

Now, you’re sitting on the bathroom floor near Potions throwing up the Breakfast you forced yourself to swallow. Your scalp is itchy because you decided to put off showering for just another day and you think some of the puke is hanging in your front pieces. It’s disgusting and you feel just as disgusting as the spit running down your chin. At least the worst part is over, the feeling of knowing you're about to throw up and racing to the toilets while gagging is something you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. That’s a lie. Still, it’s awful.

 Your grip on the toilet bowl tightens before you sigh and stand up to flush away your breakfast. You watch as the pieces of dry bed disappear before leaving the stall to wash your bare face. You don’t look in the mirror to not see the mess you must look. The dry-shampooed hair in a loose bun instead of the slick back you would’ve gone for if you had had more energy. 

You barely slept and must look like it. You blink back tears and straighten your back, about to turn around and leave when the door flies open to reveal a panting and panicked James. He stumbles inside and searches the bathroom for a second before his eyes meet yours. His whole body relaxes as he steps inside and lets the door fall closed behind him. “Are you okay? I heard you were sick!” 

He beelines towards you and grabs your face to check for a fever. “You’re fine right? Do you need anything? Let me help you, please?” His Hands are colder than usual but feel amazing against your hot, tacky skin. He smells like grass and his shitty hair gel that doesn’t do anything to control the frizz of his curls. You step back, bumping into the sink that’s still behind you. “I don’t need help.” 

He frowns and scans your face causing you to lower your eyes in embarrassment. He must be disgusted. You hear him sigh disgustingly soft and you feel hot tears stab at your eyes. “Let’s get you to the Hospital wing. Come on, love.” His voice is soft and pitiful. It makes you want to run away and hide forever.

Go somewhere you’ll never be tricked into loving, trusting someone. Somewhere you don’t have to hear his soft voice or look at his pained eyes. Somewhere you can forget. 

You avoid his gaze as you attempt to push past him, you know such a place doesn’t exist but getting out of this bathroom filled with him would do it for now, “I’m fine.” He holds your waist to stop you from walking away and you can’t help but melt into the touch. Letting yourself indulge in the feeling of his strong hands steadying your body. 

“Let me help you, my love. You don’t need to push yourself and go to class or be productive. I know you want to but there is no need. I know-” “You don’t know!” You interrupt, pushing him away. The realization that he knows you even if he doesn’t actually care about you makes something sharp sting in your chest. 

You trusted him and opened up to someone that only feels pity for you. As if you’re a dead animal on the side of the road. 

The look in his eyes has you remembering the events of the day before and you almost feel bad. Then, you remember his embarrassed face at your mention and how he just let his friends talk bad about you while pretending to care. He deserves this. “You do not know me, Potter”

He flinches at the way you spit out his last name, full of hatred, but instead of feeling guilty, you feel content. This is what he’s supposed to experience after stringing you along for almost three months. 

You push past him and leave out of the door. The loud chatter of students around you makes your head hurt and you hurry to reach your dorm before you begin throwing up again, leaving a perplexed James standing in the bathroom.

The next morning is easier. You wake up early and tiptoe to the shower to not wake your roommates. You double shampoo your hair and put in your favorite sea-salt scented mask after entangeling your hair. While it does what it’s supposed to, you exfoliate and shave which leaves you exhausted but feeling much better. 

You brush your teeth, dry and comb your hair before doing skincare and finally makeup while your roommates start to get up.

At breakfast you eat waffles and eggs with some bacon while ignoring the ever prominent head-ache and stares you get after not sitting next to James. Your mouth still tastes and feels weird but the hunger pushes the disgust away.

The smells of hot coffee and chamomile tea fill your nose as you relax in the sun coming from the giant, currently painted, windows. Amongst the gossip of your house you hear an annoyed mcgonagall lecturing a few students on their messy and wasteful eating habits. You feel a smile grow on your face and close your eyes for a few seconds to concentrate on the warmth of the sun before deciding to get some sleep.

You’re about to stand up and leave to get in about another hour of sleep when a boy, Anton you think, speaks up. “Have you and Golden boy broken up, then?” He bites into his apple and your stomach turns. “What,” you question, confused by the casual misinformation. Were you two so obvious about your fight? Anton (?) continues chewing while talking and you force your food to stay down, “I mean, I heard some talking and stuff. I’m pretty sure Sirius- ” 

You frown while standing up, “You can’t believe that guy, he never liked me.”

It’s true. Sirius seems to be very territorial of his friendship with James which causes him to make mean comments whenever you pull James away from him. Pulled. 

“Is that a no then, or…” The follow up questions of why Sirius doesn’t like you and whether James still loves you by the students around Anton cause you to roll your eyes in annoyance. Everyone is always so curious to know everything, can’t even give you a fucking day of peace. 

You pass James, whose plate stays untouched in front of him, on your way out. 

It’s 10:13 am and you’re sitting in Charms. Professor Flitwick is talking about some banishing spells for nasty wood spirits while balancing on a floating book he charmed to reach the top of the blackboard. You keep stealing glimpses at the loudly ticking clock. The ticking makes time passing feel much slower than you’d like as it makes you aware of every second as it passes. You can’t help but focus on the slow drawl of the clock hands as they creep over the clock dial. 

James keeps bouncing his knee next to you and nervously tapping on the desk. His Fingers hit the wood in a repeating, but long, rhythm. Index, middle, pinky, ring, index, middle, index, ring, pinky and repeat. His eyes keep scanning your face for exactly 2 and a half seconds before he squints at Flitwick for 5 and at his Paper for 8. Repeat.

It’s a seemingly endless cycle and the worst part is the fact that you’re actively contributing to it. Every 18 seconds you look at James, then you tell yourself you want to break out of it so you don’t look at him for 25, then you’re back to eighteen. You inspect the ticking clock, it’s 10:15, and notice the crack in the number 10. The clock is old but surprisingly good intact, except for number 10.

You turn to James to tell- Nevermind. 

The clock is ticking, while professor Flitwick turns back to the class. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Does anyone know the answer?”  Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

No hands are raised, a few bad students sink further into their chairs to hide, some look at the ceiling. James looks at you. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Professor Flitwick raises his brow and studies the classroom. Waiting for an answer to whatever he asked. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

James is looking at you. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Perhaps Mr. Potter would know the answer if he wasn’t staring at Ms. Y/L/N’s ear. Right, Mr- Potter”  Tick. Tick. Tick. 

James startles and nervously looks around the classroom and meets a laughing Sirius’ eye before quietly answering, “Yes, Professor Flitwick” Tick. Tick.

The bell rings and James slides you a small piece of paper. Tick.

Taglist: @csifandom @queenanababy @yourfavoritereader @autumn2534 @eissaaaa @mp-littlebit @bunnyweasley23 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @aasmalfoy @maddieg1025 @moonywastakenn @bouearis @albanianslut

[sosa2imagines]

Thief

Warning- Fluff

Bucky had a nightmare in the middle of the night. He got up panting, gasping for air. He tried to sleep again, but gave up after trying for few minutes and went to the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, but after a few minutes later, he heard footsteps. Bucky turned around and saw Y/n in her cute pajamas come down the stairs. Y/n had joined the avengers just a year after Bucky.

Their relationship was simple in the beginning. Just the formal 'hellos' and 'how are yous'. But as time went by, and being on missions together, they became friends, the more they got to know each other, more barriers were dropped. They became best of close friends, joined to the hip, inseparable even by Steve. But there was one barrier though. They both were dancing, around their feelings.

As soon as she turned on the light, she looked at him "Are you okay?" Bucky sighed, "I'm fine just another nightmare", Bucky said, as his mind raced with thoughts of his past. That was another thing, that didn't changed for him, his nightmares. No matter how much Steve, you or anyone helped, it was hard for him to deal with.

You knew about his nightmares and how hard it was for him to deal with. You always came up with a different approach to help him and he was always grateful for that. So seeing him hesitate a bit, you came up with a plan. "Have a seat, I know something that will help you relax." Bucky looked at you confused but did as told with a curious smirk. He sat down and waited for you to do what you want.

You brought him cookies and milk with a smile on your face. Bucky was delighted, seeing the cookies and milk. The one thing he did looked forward to after a nightmare, was you coming up with different ideas to make him feel good.

Bucky took some of the cookies and milk and started to eat. "This is good...", He said after taking the first bite. "Thank. you Y/n" "Most welcome" you smiled.

Bucky looked away with a sigh "You don't have to stay" he says, feeling a bit uncomfortable about his nightmare saga, not wanting to disturb you. But soon he felt relief wash over him, as he looks at you, still sitting next to him eating cookies and smiling.

"You are stubborn, aren't you?" He says, feeling comfortable with having you around.

"Of course, I'm!! you should have known by now!" you chime with a grin on your face.

Bucky smiles and eat the rest of the cookies, while, you both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then he speaks again, looking at you. "These cookies were good" "Never underestimate good cookies!" He looks over at you and nods his head. "Well it's getting kind of late so we should go to bed, thank you Y/n..." He says, getting up from the chair. You were kinda upset, that he is going back, but you knew, it was important for him to sleep. "Umm..ok Bucky"

"If you don't mind I would like to do this again" He suggests, blushing a bit. As soon as he said that, you look at him with all the happiness inside of you. "Yes, of course I would love that." He smiles, god that hormones breaking smile! "Good night, doll"

Some nights later, Bucky woke up again, in the middle of the night. The nightmare still fresh in his mind. He sits up in bed and let out a sigh. He checks the clock and notice that it's 3am. He looks around the room, wondering if anyone is still up or a specific, someone is up. That's when he heard noises outside.

He goes out to see. He looks around, and notices Y/n in the common room eating something on the couch. "Y/n, doll?" he whispers, as he gets closer to you. "Hey, wassup?" you ask and Bucky shakes his head, and looks at you "Are you okay? What are you doing outside this late?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't sleep..." you shrug casually. He nods in understanding "Me neither you know why... can't focus because of it."

You gave him a smile, you knew how some nightmares can be really disturbing for him. You needed to think of something different, to help him. That's when you come up with an idea. "I'm a thief by the way, night profession"

"You steal at night?" He asks quietly, with a puzzled look on his face, panic evident in his voice.

"Yup, being an avenger, no one can doubt me." "What do you steal?" He asks, his curiosity peaking up. "Your tensions and worries" you answer with a smile and his heart melts. He was a little startled at first, but then he let out a soft chuckle, his feelings for you rising up. "You managed to do that" he smiles, sitting next to you on the couch.

"Did it really work?" "Well...I'm not feeling tense anymore as I was before" he says giving you the hormones blasting smile. "Are you really a thief" "Yes! I'm really a thief" you tell him proudly.

"Well if you're a thief..." He pauses for a moment, then gets a mischievous look on his face. "Why don't you steal away my heart?" He grins, as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, making you blush. This was the perfect opportunity for him, to work on his feelings and to see if you reciprocate. And it would not be awkward, if nothing happened.

He smiles and tilts his head to the side, "Well I'm waiting" He says with a sly smile, "When are you gonna steal it doll?" Okay, hold on you were totally not prepared for this! It's not like you didn't want to, but man he was being bold and brave. Damn that panty wetting smirk. "You are awake! That's not how stealing works!!"

Bucky rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face. "You know what I mean..." He says with a smile and then he glances over at the clock, noticing that it is getting late. "Well it's getting late we should go back to sleep..." He gives up, thinking you might not be interested, but the blush on your cheeks, what if? He pauses for a moment, contemplating what to do? Then he smirks, "But before I go I want to do this..." He looks over at you slowly approaching, leaning in to kiss you. You were surprised, but soon melts into the kiss. The kiss was soft yet passionate. You silently touch his heart while kissing, placing your hand firm. "I stole your heart." you mumble in between the kiss.

He puts his hand on top of yours. The kiss was passionate and he can feel his heart racing, fluttering in his chest. "Oh my god! You...actually did it." He says laughing softly.

"It's mine now." "It is yours"

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi can u do a blurb where the reader is max verstappen sister and has to baby Penelope and she calls charles over they like go out for ice cream or sm

"Are you sure you don't mind?", Kelly wondered as she got ready to leave with Max for their lunch date.

"Please, me and Penelope are going to have a blast this afternoon, aren't we?", you asked the little girl who nodded frantically, assuring her mother's uneasy heart, "you two go and enjoy yourselves while we are going to enjoy ourselves, too! If there is any trouble - which I doubt there will be - I'll call", you checked with them before Max kissed the top of your head, "behave well, okay? Don't teach her to pull any of the pranks or funny businesses you did to me when we were younger, okay?", he warned playfully.

So far, you had given each other manicures and had just finished painting a drawing of you and Penelope so she could keep it in her bedroom once it was dry.

"Y/N, can we go and get ice cream, please?", she asked you, "it's a good idea, P, let's tidy this and then we can go, okay?", you encouraged her.

"You know who also likes ice cream? Charles! He races with Max, do you know him too?", she asked, seeing as your brother was close friends with him, "yes, I do, why? Do you want to see if wants to join us?", you smiled, storing the paint tubes in the drawer.

"Yes, yes, yes!", she squealed, "let's call him!", she said as she handed you your phone, letting you tap the screen until you were calling the Ferrari driver, "hey, Y/N! How are you?", he asked.

The little girl played along as you encouraged to answer him, "Hi Charles! I'm good, and you?", giggling against your arm as you two heard a slight confused squeak from Charles before he clocked, "P, is that you?", he asked.

"Yes, it's me! Me and Y/N are going to get ice cream and we were wondering if you wanted to come with us!", she mused.

"Sounds good! Where are we meeting up?", he asked, "you know the ice-cream shop by the park? I was thinking it should be quiet around this time and P can go on the swings for a bit, too!", you suggested, the little girl nodding at the plans you made for the rest of the afternoon.

You got all the things you needed inside a backpack in case of an emergency and left the apartment with P, safely holding her hand as you walked to the park, Charles texting you he was sitting by one of the benches near the ice cream shop.

"CHARLES!", Penelope yelled as she spotted him, pulling you with her so you ran as fast as her until it was safe enough to let go of your hand hug Charles' legs.

"Hello P, how are you, beautiful girl?", he asked, hugging her back before shooting you a smile, taking off his sunglasses and resting them on the neckline of his t-shirt.

"I want some ice-cream, c'mon Charles!", she pulled him before he had a chance to properly greet you, his hand just about rubbing your arm before you were in front of the freezer with all of the flavours available.

"I'm very grateful that you invited me, this is really nice and I didn't have any plans for the afternoon", Charles smiled as he ate some of the fruity sorbet he picked out.

"You should be, this is the best girly date in town, you should feel honoured", you joked as you showed him your sparkly nails. You tidied them up a little when P wasn't looking, an even though from far away they looked okay, up close it was noticeable that a little kid has painted them, "it's a shame you didn't get one of these manicures", you giggled sweetly.

Godness, he could hear that sound forever. He wouldn't act on his feelings, not at that moment anyway, but he was smitten about you. He had been the moment you came back to the paddock to support Max after getting your degree. Until then, he thought it was a silly crush, but when he saw you all grown up and blooming into a young woman, he was sure you were it.

"Charles, your ice-cream is dripping on your pants!", P yelled from the slide, noticing the liquid trickling down into the fabric.

"I have some wipes here", you rummaged the backpack, "I usually have them for P, you know how kids can get messy with their food", you winked as you offered him the wet wipes packet so he could clean the stain for now, "merci", he smiled charmingly with blush erupting on his cheeks.

"Charles, what happened there?", P asked as she approached you, sitting down and drinking some of her water, "it spilled, P", he smiled.

"Are you boyfriend and girlfriend? Like mummy and Max?", she asked bluntly as both you and Charles struggled for words, "no, P, we're not boyfriend and girlfriend", you noted.

"Well, you should be, you're kind to eachother, and you make eachtoher laugh", she explained her theory, "think about it while I go on the slide again, okay?", she nudged before sprinting off.

"Do you want to think about it?", you asked Charles, having felt enamoured by him since his Formula 2 days, "we could think about it", he winked.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[hazelvrr]

Punished

Pairing: Hazel callahan x fem reader

Summary: You beat Hazel at practice, which she doesn't like, and then things get heated in the showers

Contains: fighting, smut- stripping, scissoring, strap on, top!hazel

Word count: 2.7k

___________________________________________

As hazel slams you into the ground and climbs ontop of you, you imagine what it would feel like to have her ontop of you for a different reason. The way she straddled you as she pinned you down made your heart race and your head spin out of control; although you didn't want to admit it, you could feel your pussy begin to throb, getting wetter by the second as she's pushing her body down onto you to keep you on the ground, her face getting awfully close to your neck. The sound of her heavy panting didn't help, all you could think of is what she would sound like if those weren't sounds of struggling but sounds of pleasure, writhing under your touch.

Unfortunately for you, you had decided to put on a thin pair of linen shorts this morning, and so it became very obvious what was happening when they started to become see-through from your arousal. You could feel it as your pussy soaked through your panties and you knew you had to do something, so before she punches you in the nose, you quickly grab her arms and flip her over, holding her to the ground face down with her arms in the air as your sitting ontop of her.

"1..2..3! Winner," pj says and you stand up as everyone claps. You look over at hazel who is standing up and brushing herself off. She looks over at you with an intense stare, almost piercing your skin with her deep sapphire eyes. You look back at her, still breathing heavily from the exercise and she reaches her arm out. You look down at her hand and reach to shake it, the cold sensation of her rings touching your palm as she shakes your hand vigorously, not taking her eyes away from you once. The handshake seems to go on for just a few seconds too long before the bell rings and everyone is packing up to leave. You are in a trance staring at her and only realise what is happening when you feel her large calloused hand attempt slide off yours as you loosen your grip.

You decide to head to the showers after that and you start washing your hair. You're rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when all of a sudden you're being slammed against the wall, hands against your shoulders. It takes you a minute to see because of the suds in your eyes but once your vision clears, you recognise that its hazel holding you against the wall, "what the hell are you-" you say but before you can finish hazel gets up close to your neck and say "i didn't like that stunt you pulled out there, embarrassing me like that, oh and by the way, nobody else may have noticed but I could feel you dripping through your shorts, you thought you would be able to get away with that and nobody would notice?"

"Hazel I'm so-" you reply, feeling extremely embarrassed, "I guess we will just have to finish what we started later tonight" She interrupts in a cocky tone, still holding you up against the wall. You look her up and down realising for the first time since she basically attacked you in the showers that you were naked. You were both naked, pressed up against eachother. You look at her standing there, taking her in as she watches you squirm. Thank god for the running shower because a tear dripped down your leg and you don't know what would have happened next if she had seen that.

"So tonight, my place, 8 o clock, got it?" She says firmly, looking you up and down once more before backing away and walking back over to her shower, leaning over, giving you a full view of her ass as she picks up her shampoo bottle and conditioner and walks out into the changing room.

You're still standing there, frozen, from the shock of hazel speaking to you like that, you barely even knew eachother and now you were going to her house tonight? You had always had a thing for her but she never seemed to notice you until now,so you definitely weren't complaining.

You spent the rest of the day thinking about your plans with hazel, wondering what she was going to do to you, imagining hundreds of scenarios. You started to get ready, putting on makeup, curling your hair and putting on a nice dress and by the time you were ready it was nearly 8 and you were going to be late.

You arrive at her house at 8.05 and ring the doorbell, she answers almost straight away and stares at you, looking at your dress for way too long. "Um im freezing my ass of out here can i come in?" You say shivering. She snaps out of it and moves out of the way, letting you in, "you look great, it's really a shame though," She said grinning. "Why? What's wrong with it?" Yoj ask confused. "I'm about to ruin it all," and before you can say anything she wraps her arms around your hips, lifting you up as you wrap your legs round her as she kisses you aggressively. "What about your mom?" you ask concerned, pulling away. "She's not here, on a trip with this random guy she met called Steve or Mark or something," She shrugs, "so are you going to stop talking or am I going to have to make you stop talking?"

Okay now you were dripping. You just nod to her as she carry you up the stairs and into her room slamming you down on the bed and crawling ontop of you, "now, do you remember why you're here?" She asks you looking down at the hem of your dress and running her finger along the bottom. "Because you asked me to?" You reply looking down at her finger starting to breathe heavier. "No. Because you embarrassed me and now you need to be taught a lesson," She says slowly beginning to touch your thighs. "Oh yeah? We'll see about that," you say as you pull her hand away and flip her onto her back, pinning her hands behind her head, straddling her.

You don't know what came over you but you were there holding her hands above her head with one hand and with the other you reach up your dress, pull your panties to the side and began to play with yourself, forcing her to do nothing but watch. You began by gently circling your clit. with your index finger, and then inserting a finger inside, sighing at the sensation. You felt her breaths quicken as you begin to make circles with your finger, throwing your head back and whimpering, you're slipping another finger in your pussy and curling them, feeling your walls clench around your fingers and push your juice out. Your poor whimpers soon turn into loud moans as the wet slapping sound fills the room.

You open your eyes to see what hazel is doing because she's suspiciously quiet and when you look at her, she's almost sobbing with her eyes closed. "What's the matter hmm? I thought you were going to teach me a lesson, all I've learnt is how wet I make you," you say as you run your fingers along her trousers, showing her the wetness that had completely soaked through. She whimpered looking away so you grab her by the chin and make her look at you. You continue to pump your fingers in and out of your pussy until you began to feel a familiar warmth growing in your stomach and then your whole body began to shake, you throw your head back once more, giving in to your orgasm and you moan hazels name as you reach your climax whilst sitting on hazel as you made her watch as her pussy ached.

You climb off her and lay down next to her trying to slow your breaths down after. Hazel took advantage of this and quickly climbed back on top of you, "guess fight club comes in handy sometimes," She smirks as her eyes light up, "my turn."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, scared of the answer you were about to receive, but instead the only answer you got was, "strip." You look back up at her, "what?" You ask, she replies in a serious tone, "you heard me." That sentence sent a shiver down your spine as you began stripping, removing your dress and hazel snatches it off you and throws it into the corner of the room, "hey that's my favorite dress," you tell her, annoyed that she had just thrown it. "Shut the fuck up and strip," She said, completely unsympathetic.

You listen and remove your blue lace panties you had put on to match the dress, to seem put together for hazel, although you don't think hazel noticed at all, she was too focused on when she was getting to fuck you. Finally you remove your bra and drop it on the floor and look to hazel, who had just unzipped her jeans, pulled them off and removed her boxers.

"What are you doin-" before you could finish hazel pushes your back down on the bed so you're laying flat, completely naked. "After that little game you tried to play, you deserve a punishment, im going to ride your tits and use you as my toy and when I cum all over your tits, you are going to apologise for embarrassing me and tell me how much you need me."

You begin dripping on the bed sheets but don't even notice because hazel has just climbed ontop of you and rested her clit over your tit. She waited a second to make sure she was in the right spot teasing her own clit with your nipple and then began to grind downwards, using your hard nipple to get herself off. You watch as her hips move up and down right infront of your face, reaching out to wrap your arms around them. You slide your hands round to her ass and squeeze, "naughty girl, did I say you could do that?" She asks in a breathy moan as she is dripping in arousal on your chest. She grabs your hands and moves them towards her tits, signaling for you to play with them. You grab them and start moving them round in circles, watching hazels face as she is getting closer to her climax. You take her tit in your mouth, licking in circles round her nipple and sucking it gently, this brings hazel over the edge as she yells, "im gonna cum, im gonna" and spills out all over your tits, still moving up and down chasing her orgasm.

Her breathing slows and she shuffles backwards leaning her face down to your stomach, making eye contact as she licks you, cleaning you up, tasting her own juices on her tounge. She continues licking further up, licking around your nipples in circles, making you sigh as she makes her way up to your neck and starts marking you. "This is so everyone will know what a naughty little slut you are," She whispers into your ear, nibbling on it softly. She starts kissing you passionately and you can taste her cum on your tongue, "mmm you taste so sweet hazel," you moan into her mouth as she pushes her body further into you, searching for friction.

You move towards her and turn so that both of your pussys are touching and then you both begin to rub your clits together, at first it feels weird but once you find a rhythm, it's all pleasure. Both of you have your eyes squeezed shut from the sensation as it becomes easier to grind because you're both dripping wet now. You start to feel a trembling feeling in your thighs, as your whole legs begin to twitch, so hazel puts a slight amount more pressure which sends you over the edge cumming all over hazels pussy as you moan her name, your cum spilling over hazels clit brings her to her climax, as she cums all over you, the both of you still grinding at a slow pace until you have both finished.

You both lay down for a moment looking at eachother in awe of one another, "that felt so good," you say to her, still slightly out of breath. "Look at the absolute mess we've made of my sheets, such a good girl," her words swirling round inside you, turning you on even more if that was even possible.

Hazel takes a deep breath and gets up from the bed, crouching down to reach under her bed, you get a good view of her tits bounce as she does this and you lick your lips. She pulls out a box, opens it up and inside is a blue 6 inch strap on and it's belt. You look at her, shocked, "you just have one of those lying around?" You ask. "Nope bought it especially for you for tonight," she replies, "what do you think?" You look at it, your mouth watering imagining what she could do to you in that. "I like it. I like it a lot." You quickly say, almost too quickly. "Don't be so eager, don't you worry, I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to walk tomorrow, nevermind beat me in a fight," She says, looking very pleased with herself, "now, be a good little slut and bend over."

You quickly stand up and lean forward so that your entrance is accessible from behind. "Now spread those legs for me and we will see just how much you need me," hazel says as she is strapping the blue strap to her. She lines it up with your entrance and circles it round, coating her strap in your arousal. She continues to rub around your clit but not going in. "Stop teasing hazel," you say annoyed as your pussy throbs in anticipation. "Tell me how much you want me, how much you need me and maybe I will consider it, she replies with a menacing grin on her face," you turn to look over your shoulder but she pushes you back to face towards the door. "Hazel please, I'm begging you, I need you," you say desperately.

Apparently that worked because 5 seconds later she was wrapping her hands around your hips and sliding into your entrance. You moan at the sudden sensation feeling it pump so far inside you. "I can't quite hear you, I'm gonna need you to moan as loud as you can for me," hazel moans into my neck before slamming into me once again, making me moan even louder. She continues to buck into me with her strap, stretching out my pussy as my walls tighten around her, getting closer to cumming.

Just as you were getting close, she stops her movements, "what are you doing I was so close," you try to say to her but it comes out more like this "what mm u I so close." She turns you back around, without removing herself from you and places you on the bed as she straddles you. She spreads your legs even further then starts to buck into you again, able to hit even further in this new position. She reaches your g spot and tries to move her strap round your pussy in a circle, "Wow you're so tight, such a pretty pussy," She says to you in admiration watching your whole body shut down, trembling then slowing down, then you release yourself all over her cock. She pulls it out allowing more of your juice to spill out all over the bed.

You look at her and move over to the strap, beginning to suck it, collecting every last drop of your juices before she removes the strap, flinging it on the floor from being so tired. You both lay down together, eyes meeting and kiss, tasting eachother on your tongues then lay there cuddling until you both fall asleep in the mess you made.

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@iloverubycruzz on wattpad

@hazelcallahansgirlfriend on a03

@sltfr on tiktok

[astars-things]

“i know you are lying” with Charles Leclerc x teenage daughter!reader. maybe the reader gets caught underage drinking or something and it leads to a big fight.

Charles Leclerc X teenage daughter!reader

I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock on the wall as it ticked away the minutes. It was well past midnight, and every sound seemed to echo louder in the silence of the house. My heart raced with each passing moment, knowing that any minute now, my dad would walk through that door. And when he did, he'd find out the truth. The truth I'd been desperately trying to hide.

I took another sip of water, trying to calm my nerves. But the knot in my stomach only tightened with each passing second. I knew I had messed up big time this time. The party had seemed like a good idea at the time, a chance to hang out with friends and forget about the stress of school for a while. But now, as I sat there, waiting for the inevitable confrontation, I realized just how wrong I had been.

The door creaked open, and I tensed, my heart pounding in my chest. My dad stepped into the kitchen, his expression tired and worn from a long day at work. But as soon as his eyes landed on me, they narrowed, and I knew there was no escaping it now.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, his voice calm but tinged with suspicion.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, avoiding his gaze. "Just couldn't sleep," I mumbled, hoping he'd buy the lie.

But he didn't. He knew me too well for that.

"I know you're lying," he said, his tone firm.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of guilt pressing down on me. "Dad, I—" I started, but he held up a hand, cutting me off.

"I got a call tonight," he said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "From the police."

My heart dropped into my stomach, and I felt sick. I had hoped against hope that nobody would find out, that I could sweep it under the rug and pretend like it never happened. But now, faced with the reality of my actions, I knew there was no escaping it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he asked, his voice softening slightly.

I shook my head, unable to meet his gaze.

"You're underage, y/n," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "You shouldn't have been drinking in the first place."

"I know," I whispered, feeling the weight of my mistake bearing down on me.

He sighed again, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I just don't understand why you felt like you had to lie to me," he said, his voice tinged with hurt.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," I admitted, the tears now streaming freely down my cheeks.

He pulled me into a tight hug, and for a moment, I let myself believe that maybe everything would be okay. But then reality came crashing back down around me, and I knew that this was just the beginning of a long and difficult conversation.

"We'll talk about this more in the morning," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the mess I had made. Maybe, just maybe, we could work through this together. But one thing was for certain: I would never forget the look of disappointment in my dad's eyes when he said those four simple words.

"I know you're lying."

[sturniololoco]

hiii <3 could you do a little sister fic where she plays hockey and gets into a fight with a player from the other team? Just go from there ig 😭

Mad

Warnings: blood, cussing, crying, etc.

A/N: Kinda a true story, but mine happened in a soccer game lol, it's also rly short and prob rly bad lol

SLS/N’s POV

I know I’m not supposed to let my hair fall out of my helmet, especially when you're playing in a girl's hockey league, but my low bun fell out and I was in the middle of a game so I couldn’t fix it.

The score was tied and there wasn’t much time left on the clock, but I was skating faster than I ever had.

I hear the puck being sent my way by one of my brothers, and I quickly snatch it before I can get bodied by the girl on the other team.

Just as I reached my stick back to slap the puck into the goal, I felt myself fly back, head first, a burning sensation on my scalp.

I was being pulled back by my hair, getting whipped around to the point wear I fell and skidded into the wall.

The girl looked at me with a smirk before skating off, slowly.

I hated the way she looked at me, it made my blood boil and my heart race.

Ignoring the pain in my hip, I stood, then skated as fast as I could to her.

Next thing I know, I'm fully tackling her onto the ice, and that's all I was gonna do until she punched me,

Right in the damn nose.

Blood poured down my front and all over the girl, until it eventually reached the ice. My eyes were watering like crazy, but I ignored the pain and focused my enraged thoughts on the girl I was practically straddling.

Just as I was about to pound her into the ice, I felt arms around my torso, pulling me off.

I fought against them, wanting to get back at the girl who ruined my game, but I stopped once I heard the ref.

"You need to stop or your team will be disqualified."

I quickly shoved the person's arms off of me and then skated to the penalty box.

I got inside and slammed my halpet against the glass, feeling all my anger and the pain in my face hit me at once.

-

Before I knew it, the buzzer was going off, right after the other team scored the winning point.

I don't bother going into the locker room. Instead, I go to the lobby of the complex, taking my gear off while I wait with my brothers.

As people passed me on their way out, they gave me dirty looks, especially the moms on the other team.

I just sat there, blood pooling out of my face, glaring right back at them.

Until the girl that started this walked passed.

Next thing I know, I'm behind her, ripping her braided ponytail.

Just as she was about to retaliate, Nick, my brother, got between us while I felt Matt and Chris hold my arms back, keeping me from tearing this girl to shreds.

They bring me back to the bench and sit me down as Nick apologizes to the girl's mom.

As he turns around, he looks at me, a disappointed look on his face.

I slouch against the wall behind me, crossing my arms over my chest as I roll my eyes, not making eye contact with any of my brothers.

-

We silently got to the car, me aggressively chucking my gear in the back before climbing in the backseat and leaning my head against the car window.

"SLS/N, we need to stop the blood," Nick says, handing me a t-shirt that he found in the back of the car.

I take it from him and wipe my nose, feeling the bruising start to form underneath the red coating my face.

As Matt begins to drive, I feel the emotion and pain well up in my eyes so fast, I don't have time to stop it.

As I cried, I let out a frustrated groan, hitting my fist into my thigh, as it was the only thing in the car to punch.

"Don't do that! I know you're mad, but don't hurt yourself." Nick says, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him.

As I lean into his side, he takes the t-shirt from my hand, helping me wipe most of the blood from my face.

"These are just angry tears," I say to the car.

Matt laughs and reaches back behind his seat, finding my leg, and then giving it a little pat.

"We need to find a way to get all that anger out of you kid, you got way too much of it." Chris sighs, shaking his head.

This makes the car laugh, and I even manage to smile through the pain in my face.

I was happy that they weren't mad at me.

-

"Matt!" I yell from my spot on the couch, head in Chris's lap.

"I need some ice, please!" I yell again.

I hear a plastic bag being opened, then the sound of the ice maker.

Matt comes in and hands me the bag of ice, now wrapped in a kitchen towel.

Chris quickly takes it from my hand and gently places it under my eye where most of the bruising was, holding it for me.

As Matt sits down by my feet, Nick comes in, making me sit up and take an Advil, and chug a bottle of water.

As soon as I'm done, I lay back down next to Chris, trying to get the dizziness out of my head.

Chris must have noticed me squeeze my eyes shut because he says,

"Try and fall asleep kiddo. I'll be right here when you wake up."

I almost pass out as his words, and get comfy and smuggling into his side.

He holds the ice on my face and strokes my hair till I fall asleep, happy that my brothers aren't mad at me.

-

Kinda bad I'm sorry! If it wasn't what you were asking for, send in a more specific request and I can re-do it!

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[55sturn]

✮ I WAS BLIND TO SEE

pairing: chris sturniolo × female!reader

synopsis: in which y/n spent years begging chris to let her into his heart, but he was unrelenting, so eventually she gave up. but after years of her pining helplessly, chris realizes that he grew to love her back and races against the clock to get her back.

warnings: swearing, lowkey toxic!chris, angst for like majority of the fic, oblivious!reader, oblivious!chris, mentions of alcohol, justin’s lowkey a dick, chris is a literal fucking dumbass, i love the whole “idiots in love” trope.

THIRD PERSON POV

it was no shocker to find out how deep y/n's love for chris ran, after all she had been in love with him since they were sophmores in high school. she loved every single thing there was to love about him, and the less lovable things, she understood where they stemmed from.

she had a very deep connection with him, they had been the closet out of him, his brothers, and her. he could turn to her for anything, and vice versa. however, there was one issue.

chris didn't reciprocate the love she felt. he expressed numerous times to anyone who asked, that she was his best friend, nothing more. he saw her as the female extension of him and his brothers.

the only person he couldn't tell that to though, was her. so instead of letting her down easy, he ignored it. and that caused more problems than he saw coming. because of his naturally flirty nature, it filled the girl with false hope, it led her to believe that maybe her feelings were returned.

no one was able prepare for the inevitable fallout that occurred when chris' feelings, or lack thereof, came to light.

FLASHBACK

chris was sitting at his desk when nick knocked on his door, he welcomed him into his room with a barely discernible "come in."

"chris we gotta talk." nick muttered, standing in the doorway with his arms folded and a frustrated look on his face.

"what's up?" chris sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned in his gaming chair to face the older triplet.

"you need to tell y/n about the way you feel, well the way you don't feel."

"why? it's not like i'm hurting her." chris scoffed, not really wanting to break his best friend's heart.

"chris, she literally just spent an hour talking to me on facetime about how she wants to confess her feelings to you directly because instead of being honest, you're playing into her feelings! i can't keep giving her advice and getting her hopes up knowing that you are just going to crush her."

"whatever nick, i'll talk to her later."

and so, when y/n came by later that day, she gathered the nerve to tell chris with a shaky breath and unsteady hands.

"chris can we talk?"

"yeah what's up?" chris hummed, knowing very well where this was going, and despite the fact that he was just about to break her heart, he felt some sort of twisted pride stir in his chest. he liked knowing that someone so close to him was pining for him, it made him feel powerful, and he hated that it made him feel that way. it truly disgusted him.

"i know this probably isn't a secret by any means but i've got feelings for you. like 'i'm in love with you' feelings and i don't know if i've been reading into things too much or if i've read into them correctly but it seems like you return them, or at least act like you do and if that's the case, i'm glad i told you. and if i've read them completely wrong, i'm about to feel like the biggest fool possible." y/n rambled, breathing out a nervous laugh as chris' eyes bore into hers.

"listen y/n, you're a great girl. any guy would be lucky to be loved by you the way you love me but i'm sorry, i don't see you that way. i know i've fed into your feelings and your flirting, and it makes me feel like such a jackass but i didn't know how to tell you and i really didn't want to break your heart. you're my best friend and i would give anything to return your feelings but i don't and it wouldn't be fair for me to pretend i do." chris whispered, his heart tearing in two as he watched the hurt and horror flash in her eyes as she realized that she had read everything wrong. his arms slowly slid around her shoulders, pulling in her into him, or at least in attempt to.

"no. you don't get to hug me after you just admitted that you played with my feelings. you literally just contradicted yourself, the fuck do you mean 'it wouldn't be fair to pretend to return your feelings." that's exactly what you did! god this was a mistake." she spat, turning on her heels and making her way up the stairs leading from chris' room. she grabbed her jacket off the back of one of the dining room chairs and left without so much as a word.

and that was the last that chris had heard from her until they ended up back in boston at the same time.

FLASHBACK OVER

y/n sighed as she made her up the sturniolos' driveway. her family had agreed to a huge family dinner with the triplets' family and she was dreading having to see chris. she was on perfectly fine terms with nick and matt, they had actually grown closer. y/n just refused to be an active presence and figure in chris' life. whenever she wanted to hang out, it’d be away from their house. away from chris.

knocking on the door, a small smile pulled at her lips. she missed mary-lou and jimmy, she hadn't had much time to see them since going back home, she had just been busy with other things, and the fact that she was slightly avoiding them because she had a feeling chris or one of his brothers told them about what had happened.

"y/n! my sweet girl i've missed you." mary-lou cooed as she opened the door, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"i've missed you too, i'm sorry i haven't come by yet, i've been busy." the girl pouted slightly, feelings guilty for staying away for as long as she had.

"busy ignoring a certain boy of mine?" the older woman teased gently, being fully aware of what had gone down and her heart hurt for the young girl. she knew what chris felt, she could see in his eyes when he spoke about his former best friend, a mother always knows. she also knows that chris just hasn't been made aware of the fact that he feels the same as y/n once did.

as mary-lou led y/n up the stairs and into the dining room where the sturniolos' and y/n's parents sat, y/n felt her chest grow tight as all eyes, including chris' fell on her.

"hey everyone, sorry i'm late." she laughed, returning the hug that jimmy pulled her into as he stood up.

"don't worry about it, we're just glad you showed up." jim smiled down at her as she took her place between justin and her mother, unfortunately across from chris.

chris' forced his gaze to his lap as he fiddled with his fingers, ever since the night he turned her down, a strange feeling had been stirring and beating relentlessly in the pit of his stomach, he almost felt like he had made a mistake rejecting her.

as the dinner went on, chris was determined to meet her gaze but she was just as determined to not look at him, in fear that she would crumple into a sobbing wreck. she tried to move on but it was hard when he had already held her heart for so long. she feared that she would never love someone the way she loved and still deep down, loves him.

after the dinner had finished, the adults gathered in the living room, talking about shit their kids didn't care about or had heard a million times already, so the rest of them moved to the deck, all claiming a chair as their own while justin grabbed a beer for all of them.

"so mousey, whatcha been up to, like really? seeing anybody?" justin hums, watching the twenty year old girl that he considered his baby sister shift awkwardly in her chair.

"quit calling me that." y/n groans, rolling her eyes at the nickname that justin had given her back when she was in elementary school, she was so quiet compared to his brothers that he referred to her as a mouse which led to him branding her "mousey."

"and before you ask again, i've seen a couple guys here and there but nothing really stuck.” she sighs, taking a sip of her beer as justin lods, kissing his teeth with a teasing smirk on his face.

“what about you chris?”

“justin don’t.” chris warns, glaring at his older brother as he sees through justin’s plan. justin is fully convinced that chris is in love with y/n, someone just has to spell it out for him. matt and nick both look at each other with wide eyes as they clue into what justin is trying to do.

y/n scoffs, sliding her beer across the table with a roll of her eyes before she stands up,

“you’re a dick.”

“y/n wait.” chris calls out, jogging after as she makes her away around the house to her car, shaking her head as she walks away.

“what do you want chris?” she sighs, turning to face him and look at him, really look at him for the first time that night.

“i’m sorry about justin, he’s convinced that i’m running from my feelings or some shit and he’s trying to make me see that.”

“that’s nice chris. you know, i came here tonight thinking that it’’d be easy to see you after how many months but no, it’s been just as hard as the night you broke my heart. it’s hard because i miss you, so fucking much but i can’t get over you. and i can’t get over you hurting me, whether you meant to or not.”

“i miss you too, y/n. come back please.” chris whispers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stares at the girl he called his best friend.

“no. i don’t think you do. you miss the me that would follow you around like a lost puppy and feed your ego with all the attention i gave you. you miss the love i gave you because you didn’t have to search anywhere else for it. i was some sort of fall back for you. and if i stuck around after you broke my heart to hear you say that you loved me, knowing it wasn’t the same way that i love you, it would’ve killed me chris.”

“i’m sorry, i really am. i just miss my best friend.”

“i stopped being your best friend long before i confessed my feelings to you.” she whispers, the raw emotion she felt as she recounted how things changed evident in her voice, lea chris confused by what she meant.

“what?”

“you stopped seeing me as your best friend quite a while ago. you started seeing me as this your could always count on to boost your ego, to fill your head with this idea that you were a god, that you were the center of my universe. you stopped treating me like your best friend and started treating me like i was a fucking groupie, chris. you stopped remembering important things i told you about myself, you got me a copy of a book that i couldn’t stand, that you knew i couldn’t stand because when i first told you about, you laughed at how insane i sounded. and you said it was for my birthday, but my birthday was three weeks before that. you started only paying attention to things i said that made you feel good, and i thought that if i’d dismiss it and pretend that it wasn’t happening, that it’d go away. i figured you were just sorting out your feelings. but no, you were playing me.”

“that’s not tr-“

“yes it is. i excused it by convincing myself you were busy. that you were stressed. but in reality, you stopped giving a fuck about me and only gave a fuck about the attention i paid you, and now that it’s gone, you feel lost and helpless. so no, you don’t miss me.” she replies, her voice slowly becoming void of all emotion, as if she had accepted what had happened and moved to face her car, before turning back to him.

“for what it’s worth, i miss my best friend too, but when i look at you now, i don’t see him. i see a person who looks like him, but is completely different. and justin is right, you’re running from your feelings but i don’t think they’re feelings for me. i love you, always have, always will. i wish i could say that you love me too, but i don’t think you do.”

chris watches her car back out of the driveway and speed down the street with his heart in his hands, forced to grapple with just how badly he hurt her.

months had passed and chris was still completely shut out of y/n’s life, and it left a bitter and extremely hard pill for chris to swallow. he knew he fucked up and he knew asking her for forgiveness was an insane ask but he missed her.

and not the attention she gave him. he missed her. her warmth, the fuzzy feeling in his chest that she gave him when he’d crack a joke and look around to see if she found it funny. he missed the way he could non-verbally communicate with her the way he can with his brothers. all he’d have to do is send her a look and she’d know what he was thinking. he missed her hugs and the way she could comfort him in a split second. he missed the person that knew him better than he knew himself, and he missed the girl that he knew better than anyone.

everyone around chris knew what was happening, they saw it in the way he’d sulk whenever nick mentioned some guy she was trying to date. or the way his eyes would soften at the mention of her and matt hanging out before his face would fall when matt says they’re going out to some random place to hang out. in the way chris’ eyes would brighten when he saw something that reminded him of her or her favourite movie showed up on the netflix previews.

everyone around chris knew that he wasn’t just homesick for his favourite person, he was lovesick too. they could see the gears turning in his head and heart, that he was slowly starting to openly show his love for her, the same love she felt for him. chris was guarded and haunted by girls that have hurt him, they knew he closed off his heart to anything but familial and platonic love, so when genuine, deep romantic feelings started blooming in his chest like the flowers in spring, he didn’t know what they were. he always thought it was platonic love for his best friend, but everyone could see it was more.

everyone but chris. until the day he saw his feelings for what they really were.

FLASHBACK

chris walked upstairs, halting halfway up to text his friend back as he half listened to nick and matt’s shared conversation, not really care until he hears a sentence that left a sour taste in his mouth.

“y/n wants to ask brendon to be her boyfriend. she thinks it could go well.”

“is she over chris?”

“not really but she wants to try and move on.”

chris rolled his eyes and stomped up the rest of the stairs, not understanding why there was such an angry feeling building in his chest like a fire rapidly consuming everything in its wake.

throughout the day, chris let his anger consume his every action, his every response, every single reaction he has to anything. it was pissing his brothers off because they had no clue why he was angry. until nick pieced it together.

“you heard our conversation about y/n didn’t you? that’s when you started acting a like a dick to everyone and everything.”

“whatever nick it doesn’t matter.”

“you’re fucking jealous, aren’t you?”

“who gives a fuck if i am?”

“why are you jealous if you don’t see her that way?” nick pressed, a smug grin on his face as he pushed the youngest triplet, itching to get the long awaited confession out of chris.

“i’m not jealous.”

“right because if you were, that would mean you actually feel the same way y/n does. which would also mean that literally everyone else in the world was right about you from the fucking get-go.” matt snickered, finding joy in teasing chris for being a complete and utter dumbass for so long.

“oh my god, you’re right. is that what you wanna hear? that i’ve been a complete jackass to her for no reason? that i do feel the same and that everyone is right? that i have no reason to feel the way i do at the thought of her being with another guy? cause if so, there you fucking go.” chris snapped, yelling and cursing out his brothers with misplaced anger.

matt just laughed as he quickly merged into the turning lane, taking chris to y/n’s apartment.

“you know what you need to do.”

FLASHBACK OVER

chris sighs as he raises his fist to the door, his entire body vibrating. his nerves were on fire, he had absolutely no clue how to go about what he was about to do. he didn’t even know if it was a good idea.

as he drops his fist back to his side, the door opens, travelling y/n standing on the other side, her hair tucked beneath her hoodie, the one that chris had gotten her gotten the prior year for christmas because the colour looked pretty on her. chris felt his breath get stuck in his throat and his heart rate quicken as he met her eyes.

“chris what the fuck are you doing here?”

“i know you think i don’t love you.” chris starts, pushing his way into her apartment as she watches him, confused etched along her features as her brows knit together.

“okay, and?”

“and i know you think i stopped paying attention to you. but you’re wrong. you are all i think about, every second of every fucking day, you are running through my mind on a loop. i only ever think about the way you love cheesy chick flicks but will never say it out loud because you don’t want to be made fun of or the way you hate when people dog-ear the pages in their books because it ruins the quality. i only ever think about how much you miss boston in the summer because it’s the perfect temperature, but you hate it in the winter because you hate snow. or how you stop to pet every animal you see just so they know what it’s like to feel a loving touch. or how you refuse to wear anything in your favourite colour because you’re scared of attaching bad memories to it and hating the colour because it’s been your favourite since you were seven. or how feel bad when you don’t give the squishmallows on your bed equal attention because you believe they can feel things. or the fact that your favourite movie is coraline because you relate her deeply but will never your mom that in fear of breaking her heart. or the fact you never once deserved to be treated the way you were by me because i couldn’t see my feelings for what they were.” chris rambles, taking a deep breath as he looks at her, her mouth open as she prepares to speak but chris cuts her off,

“i know that you won’t be able to believe me right away, but i want to prove to you that i love you. it took me a long time to realize it because i’m a fucking idiot. i always have been but this love has been here since the moment i met you, i just confused it for something platonic when it was and is so much more than that. so please hear me out and don’t ask that guy to be your boyfriend, ask me. i want to be the one to love you for the rest of your life. i know i’ve fucked up, i will spend forever and a day trying to make up for it. i know i’m late but please, just give me one more chance.”

“okay.” she whispers, her eyes watering as she finally gets to hear everything she’s ever wanted chris to say. chris smiles, looping his fingers in the edges of hoodie pocket as he tugs her forward, pressing his lips to her so feverishly that he’s sure his lips will bruise but he’s scared to waste another moment, that when he opens his eyes this will all just be some sick and twisted dream. but when he pulls away and opens his eyes, he’s met with the reality that she’s there, her hands cradling his face as she wipes away the tears he didn’t even know existed before pressing another kiss to his lips.

“i’ve always been right in front of you chris, i’m just glad you finally opened your eyes.”

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[thethingsweneversaid]

Am I crazy or did I just crack the mystery of the monologue scene????

Why did they lose against Vecna in season 4? What were they missing?

They lost the race against time. Time was obviously significant this season (The grandfather clock, Vecna's obsession with time, the UD being frozen in time). The time was simply up, they were too late. Who’s to blame? Mike Wheeler. 

Okay, let me explain, haha.

Throughout the whole series we all know Mike being late, or almost late to things is recurring. Every season in fact. S1: Mike’s campaign was too long, and he tried to get the party to stay past their curfew. S2: Mike was trying to get in contact with El on his walkie, almost making him late to the arcade. S3: Mike was almost late to the cinema because he was with El, making them almost miss the beginning of the movie. S4: Mike was reading El’s letter, almost making him and Nancy late for school... He begins every season with a race against time. Also worth noting that El was the reason for him being late in s2, s3 and s4. Also ALSO worth noting that in season 1, Mike begs his parents to let the party stay longer. The campaign took two weeks to plan! They need to finish it. He has no rush. While in all the other seasons (when he was late because of El), we get a "Shit! Shit! I'm going to be late"-version of Mike. He's stressed out and rushed. Not sure where I'm going with this last point, but I'm sure it means something and that it'll make sense in s5. The point is, Mike gets distracted by El.

Now for the monologue. This time, it's not Mike getting distracted by El. It's him distracting El.

Jason was obviously a key reason for them being too late as well. The scenes switch between Lucas fighting him and Mike’s monologue, comparing the two. Jason destroys Max’s walkman, destroying her connection to Lucas and the world outside her mind. Mike tries to get El to wake up by lifting her out of the freezer, taking off her glasses, Will shoves the radio away. They’re trying to get her out of Max’s mind and into the real world again. But El doesn't want to wake up. She is ready to fight for Max. The boys obviously tried to help because who knows what would’ve happened if they didn’t? They thought El was dying. When Mike begins his monologue, El looked away from Max and up “towards Mike’s voice”. She was listening to him now. Getting distracted. El continuously tells people throughout the series to be quiet when going into her “trance”. People talking distracts her, and she needs to concentrate. Mike also reminds the audience of the importance of the sensory deprivation tank. "It helps her calm down and focus on her powers". With Mike removing all the aids that help her concentrate (the glasses, the tank, the radio), while also talking to her, we can only assume that now, El isn’t only fighting to save Max, but also to stay in Max’s mind, further slowing her down.

At the end of the monologue, Mike reminds her she has to fight, and El’s eyes snap back to Max. That’s when she breaks loose from the vines. Whether you think El believes what Mike is saying and utilizes his loving words for strength or not, it’s still a distraction. I’ve seen a lot of people say that they felt impatient while watching this scene. Like «get on with it! Vecna is literally killing Max RIGHT NOW». And we're probably right to feel impatient! That's probably what the writers were going for! The audience was supposed to feel like that. El lost valuable time because of it. Mike is making them late this time too.

Will is also kinda to blame in this (I don't blame any of them, it's just an unfortunate set of events and they all did what they thought was best, but you get what I mean) Because in a way, Mike is distracted too. Distracted from the truth. That happened when Will lied to him in the van, disguising his own feelings for Mike, using El as a distraction for Mike to focus on instead. Will's guiding Mike towards a lie. He convinced Mike that El was feeling a certain way, which she WAS NOT. (For example: "You make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all, like she’s better for being different." cue Mike and El’s fight where she accuses him of thinking she’s a monster too, like everyone else.) (This also contrasts Will singling Mike out as the only person that doesn't treat him differently in season 2 in that scene with Will and Jonathan.) Mike doesn’t make El feel the way Will portrayed it in the van, though Mike is led to believe that she does.

Therefore, making the feelings that was the foundation for the monologue a lie. Both to Mike and El. It isn’t authentic. This doesn't apply to them. which brings me to my next point. 

 "A paladin swears to uphold justice and righteousness, to stand with the good things of the world against the encroaching darkness, and to hunt the forces of evil wherever they lurk. Different paladins focus on various aspects of the cause of righteousness (honesty=righteousness and honor for Mike), but all are bound by the oaths (promises, “friends don’t lie”) that grant them power to do their sacred work. Oaths, honor, and rigid rules define a paladin's everyday actions. Breaking these oaths (by lying) means their deity will revoke their powers."

This is why his monologue didn’t work. It was a lie (And Mike knowingly or unknowingly portrayed that lie to El). Without his honesty, Mike the paladin loses his powers. He couldn’t save them. 

Will’s selfless attempt to save their relationship sadly turned out to be counter-productive in every way, hindering all of them from seeing the truth. Will was also the one that told Mike not to stop, when in reality, maybe stopping and letting El be was exactly what he should've done. He's the heart. But he's Will's heart. That's what Will would've wanted Mike to do, seeing as Mike has saved him/snapped him out of his episodes multiple times by speaking to him: Of course Will thinks that's the right thing to do! Mike's doing what Will would've needed, not El.

It adds a new layer to El being upset with Mike in the cabin by the end of s4, because it isn't as simple as "she knows Mike is lying" or "She's just upset because they lost". She's upset because once again Mike doesn't trust that she knows her own limits (This being a huge reason for conflict in s3 between El/Mike/Max.) Mike worries because he cares of course, but it isn't what El needs ("Mike, I need you to trust me.") When Mike tries to help her, she fails. But she "redeems herself" when she's making her own decision, without outside influences other than love for her friends. She pushes her limits further than ever before, bringing Max back to life, trusting herself and her powers, without Mike knowing.

Mike is the heart, yes. The problem was - the heart was in the wrong place. They all got it wrong this time. They got confused and misunderstood each other. That’s why they lost. In the next season, I believe Mike and El are going to realize that they’ve both been focusing on the wrong things, and that is how they’re going to win. Still using love as their weapon - just a different kind of love that’s not distracting them from what they really need, not slowing them down. El coming fully into her own, reaching her full potential and using her powers the way she knows best, with the support of her loved ones making her stronger - not under the influence of Mike trying to stop her out of worry. And Mike’s heart being in the right place. With Will. 

I've seen other people talk about this next part, but I'm adding it in because it further proves the point.

Another indication that proves to me that at least SOME of the monologue is a blatant lie is the Romeo and Juliet parallel, with the word "Montague" spelled out behind Mike, and the "love at first sight"-refrence. "I knew right then and there, in that moment, that I loved you." That. is. a. lie. and there's just no going around it. Romeo and Juliet's romance wasn't actually real love, just infatuation. The Duffers also said they don't believe in love at first sight. For them to use that trope wouldn't just be wierd and cliché, but also contradicts everything we were shown in season 1. Are we just supposed to believe that Mike loved her, decpite them showing us otherwise?

More on the Romeo and Juliet thing in this post.

Conclusion: The Duffers are geniuses I’m never getting over this show.

[wholoveseggs]

Indulgences

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Part Two

Elijah returns to the club, seeking solace in the dimly lit corners. You navigate the allure of his wealth and charm while trapped in the grip of your possessive boyfriend.

3.5k words - Warnings: light smut, red door elijah {my interpretation of him}, drug use, adult themes, domestic abuse, violence, blood drinking.

Please be aware that there is domestic abuse going on in this part, do not read if you are uncomfortable.

{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

"Baby, that's not what we discussed," Jordan whined, his hands finding their way to your body.

You were trying to cook dinner for the two of you, something simple and quick. Jordan's hands roamed your body, groping your breasts and ass. You sighed, pushing his hands away.

"I paid you back already, I'm keeping the rest, I earned it," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Babe, don't be like that; I got bills too," he cooed, stepping closer to you, kissing your neck.

"I'm not in the mood," you snapped, pushing him away.

"You're always in the mood," he murmured, his hand slipping between your legs.

"No, Jordan, I'm not," you protested, trying to squirm away from him. He held you firmly, his grip tight.

"Come on, babe, just a quickie," he said, his tone pleading.

"I have work soon," you replied, trying to stay calm.

He grew rigid, his jaw clenched, a familiar fury filling his gaze.

"So it's just a matter of time until you're riding some other guy's cock?"

You were stunned, his words cutting through you. You couldn't find the words to respond.

"You think I'm stupid? I know what you do," he sneered, his words dripping with venom.

"Jordan, please, we've been over this," you snapped in frustration.

He grabbed your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin. "Don't fucking talk to me like that," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Let go of me," you cried, trying to pull away.

He gripped your arm, pulling you towards him. His free hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing, his fingers pressing into your flesh.

"Thirty thousand for a lap dance, that's fucking bullshit. You must've sucked his dick, or something. You're not worth that much." His voice was cold, his eyes filled with rage.

"I didn't do anything, I danced for him and his brother, that's all. I didn't sleep with him," you choked out, tears filling your eyes. "You know I don't do that," you added, trying to reason with him.

"You're a fucking liar," he hissed, his hand tightening around your throat.

You struggled against him, desperate to break free.

"You're hurting me; please stop," you begged, clawing at his hands.

He let go, his expression shifting to one of feigned concern. "Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he said, his hands cupping your face.

Your mind was a foggy mess; you felt so disoriented. "You always lose control when you get high," you murmured, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I know, I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing you.

"It's okay," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I just love you so much and I hate the thought of other men touching you," he said, his voice soft, sincere.

"I know, it's not like that," you reassured him, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Come on, baby, I'll finish dinner; you go get ready for work," he said, stepping back, a smile on his face.

"Are you sure?" you asked, glancing at the clock.

"Yeah, go on," he replied, ushering you towards the bedroom.

You showered and got dressed, your mind racing. He'd apologized, again, but he never changed, not really. The abuse would stop for a while, then he'd be back to his old ways, blaming you, making you feel worthless. You looked in the mirror, examining the marks on your throat. They were faint but noticeable, and you wondered if you should cover them up. You applied concealer to the bruises, but you knew they were still there, a reminder of the power Jordan had over you.

After dinner you snuck into your bedroom and stuffed the money into your purse, then left for work. You would stash it in your locker, it could get stolen, but it was safer than leaving it with Jordan.

You stepped into the club, the loud music pulsing through the air, the smell of alcohol and sweat filling your nose. You went to the bar, greeted the bartender, and picked up a tray of drinks. You made your rounds, delivering the drinks to the various tables, smiling when the clients complimented you.

You watched the dancers, their bodies twisting and grinding against the poles, their faces masks of ecstasy. You wondered if you would ever get there, if you would ever reach that point of bliss, where your body and mind were completely at peace.

The night went on, and you continued to serve drinks, flirting and teasing the customers. It was a slow night, no VIPs or special clients. You wandered back to the dressing room, lighting a cigarette, the smoke filling your lungs.

You sat at your vanity, a frown on your face, the red mark on your neck was getting more and more noticeable.

You sighed, and pulled out a small baggie with your last remaining pill, you crushed it with the back of a nearby hairbrush and snorted it, the drug burning your nose.

"That fucking hot client from the other night is in the lobby," Tiffany announced as she walked in with Kelly, her voice breathless.

"The one with the fancy suit?" Kelly asked, her eyes wide.

"What about the other one? I heard 'Stace and 'Ton made twenty grand each off him," another girl named Jenna added.

"No, just the suit guy," Tiffany replied, her voice excited.

You perked up, the drugs kicking in, the rush of chemicals making you feel better.

"How many? What room?" Kelly asked, a wicked grin on her face.

"Platinum again, and he requested a specific girl," Tiffany answered.

"Lucky bitch, do you know who? Not Stacy, I hope," Jenna pouted, a frown on her face.

"No clue, Mitch was handling the booking, and you know how he is," Tiffany sighed, her lips pursed.

"Suit guy is so fine; I'd pay him to let me sit on his face," Kelly said, her cheeks flushed.

You laughed, your body relaxing, the stress of the day fading away.

"You think he'd be into that? Letting you sit on his face?" Jenna asked, a mischievous look in her eye.

"Only one way to find out," Kelly replied, her eyes twinkling.

"If he's paying twenty grand for a dance, he probably has a fetish, or he's some sort of freak," Jenna mused, her eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't care; he's hot and he pays well, and that's all I need," Kelly retorted.

"Wait, y/n, didn't you see him the other night?" Tiffany asked, her eyes locking onto you.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, trying not to sound too excited.

"What was he like? What did he want?" Kelly questioned, her voice eager.

"It was pretty normal, just a dance and some conversation; he was polite and well-mannered," you answered, trying not to think too much about the events of that night; it was all hazy in your mind.

"Do you think you're the one he requested?" Jenna asked, her voice hopeful.

"I doubt it; he probably doesn't remember me," you replied, shaking your head.

"Well, let's find out, shall we?" Kelly said, grabbing your hand and leading you to the lobby.

You followed her, your heart pounding, the drugs making your blood rush, your mind cloudy. You weren't expecting to have to do a private dance, and you were afraid that you were far too high for such an occasion.

You entered the lobby, the air smelling of cigars and cologne, the soft murmur of voices filling the air. Mitch spotted you before you saw him.

"There you are. You are needed in the platinum room," he said, his eyes darting between you and Kelly.

"Just me?" You asked, your voice soft.

"Yes, just you. You've been requested," he replied, a frown on his face.

"Oh, um, alright. I'll be right there," you murmured, turning to Kelly.

"Guess I was right, lucky bitch," she grinned, giving you a playful smack on the ass.

You left the lobby, your heart pounding, the walk up to the suite feeling longer than it usually did. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and opened the door.

The room was the same as before, the lighting soft, the furniture plush, but the atmosphere was different. It was charged, electrified, the tension in the air thick and heavy.

Elijah was sitting in the center of the couch, his legs crossed, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His dark eyes were locked onto you, a hungry look in them.

"Hello, how are you?" His voice was smooth and velvety.

You walked over to him, a sway in your hips, and sat next to him.

"I didn't expect to see you again," you cooed, looking up at him.

"Me neither," he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

You smiled and touched his chest; his suit jacket was already off, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

You leaned forward, your lips close to his, and whispered, "What do you need, handsome?"

His lips curled into a smile, a seductive expression crossing his face, "you," he replied.

You straddled him, your knees resting on either side of his hips, his hands automatically coming to rest on your waist.

"Is this okay?" You asked, your hands roaming over his chest.

"More than okay," he murmured, his hands slipping lower, cupping your ass.

You grind against him, the friction between your legs making you wet, the drugs amplifying the feeling. The way he was looking at you, like he wanted to devour you, was driving you wild. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"You're not as shy tonight," you teased, your lips grazing his jaw.

"You make it hard to be shy," he replied, his breath warm against your neck.

"Tell me what you want, handsome," you whispered, your tongue flicking over his earlobe.

He hummed in response, grazing his teeth along your neck, sending a shiver through you. You were intoxicated by his presence, his scent, the feel of his body against yours, you didn't know if it was the drugs or the man himself. You suddenly felt a sharp pain in your neck, and gasped, trying to pull away, but he just pressed you closer to him, his mouth working against your skin.

You felt a tingling sensation, a warm pleasure radiating from the spot, the feeling spreading through your body. Your mind was clouded, your thoughts jumbled, the drugs making everything feel surreal.

"It's okay, don't fight it," Elijah whispered, his voice low, soothing.

You let out a moan, the feeling overwhelming you, your body arching against him.

"That's it, good girl," he praised, his fingers gripping your ass.

You lost yourself in the sensations, your body responding to his touch, his voice. He pulled back, blood on his lips and took your trembling hands in his.

"Don't be afraid" he cooed, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

You looked into his eyes, and saw a strange glint, something animalistic, almost predatory. His eyes were too dark, too deep, and you could feel yourself getting lost in them.

"You're not human are you? You're something else." You said, your voice barely a whisper.

"No, not all of me," he replied, a faint smile on his face. "I'm a vampire," he admitted, searching your face for a reaction.

Your pulse quickened, and a cold fear crept into your chest, mixing with the drugged up warmth. Your mind racing, trying to process his words, trying to understand them. You felt a strange sense of deja vu, flashes of the first night you danced for him, the feeling of his hands on you, his lips against yours, the taste of his blood.

"You’ve done this before haven't you? You drank my blood. I don't remember but I can feel it," you confessed, your voice quiet.

"Yes, beautiful, I made you forget ," Elijah replied, his tone reassuring.

"You'll do it again won't you? Erase my memories? Make me forget?" You asked, even though you knew the answer.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." He said, his thumb brushing over your lips.

"Why?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It's easier for both of us, less complicated. This way we can both enjoy each other's company," he replied, a sly smile on his face.

"It must get lonely, being a vampire," you muttered, holding his gaze.

"Sometimes," he agreed, a sadness in his eyes.

"Is this why you're here?" You asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

"In part," he admitted, his hands gently caressing your arms.

"Have you ever been in love?" You asked, not knowing why.

He looked away, and you could see the pain, the grief in his eyes.

"Only a few times, it's a rare thing, a blessing and a curse," he replied, his eyes filled with emotion.

"How can love be a curse?" You inquired, genuinely curious.

"It can consume you, possess you, make you do things you wouldn't normally do," he said, his voice distant.

"Like what?" You pressed, leaning closer to him.

"Killing the people who get in the way," he answered, his tone dark, his gaze intense.

"Have you ever done that? Killed someone?" You asked, a small part of you fearing the answer.

"Yes, many times," he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Does it make you feel better? Less lonely?" You wondered, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it.

He gave you a strange look, searching your face, trying to read you. You could see a mixture of emotions playing behind his eyes, a myriad of different feelings. You could see his hunger, his desire, but there was also something else, something like guilt, pain, longing.

"I don't want it to, but there's something... intoxicating, about taking a life, about having that power," he explained, his voice hushed.

"Is it because you are a vampire? Or is it because it's who you are?" You asked, your eyes darting between his, waiting for his answer.

He shifted a little, contemplating your question, his brow furrowed. You could see him wrestling with his conscience, but he seemed determined to be truthful.

"I'm not sure; the two seem inextricably linked. There is this beast within me, and lately I've become more aware of it, it's harder to control," he confessed, his eyes distant.

You reached out and touched his face, drawing his gaze back to you. He looked into your eyes, and you could see the fear, the uncertainty, the doubt. You could see the real Elijah, the man behind the mask, and it was heartbreaking. He was a broken man, a lonely soul, and you wanted to help him.

"What happens when you give into this beast? What happens if you stop fighting it?" You asked, your voice filled with worry.

He gave you a sad smile, his fingers tracing down your neck, resting on your chest.

"What happens, my dear, is insanity," he replied, a mournful tone to his voice.

A shudder ran through you, a chill seeping into your bones. He wasn't lying, you could feel it, sense it, and it was terrifying. He resonated power, a raw energy, a force that could tear you apart, consume you.

"I'm afraid if I fall over the edge that I will be lost forever, that there will be no coming back, no salvation," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

"What if you weren't alone? What if you had someone to share it with, someone who could help you fight?" You suggested, looking into his eyes, feeling his pain.

"The woman I loved married another, she did it for duty, a selfless act to protect her child," he admitted, his eyes shimmering with tears.

"I can't help but think if I told her how I felt, that I loved her, everything would've been different," he continued, his voice filled with longing, and a sense of regret.

"Did you ever try?" You asked, feeling as if you already knew the answer.

"Yes," he chuckled humorlessly, "on her wedding day, but she wouldn't let me say it,"

"I'm sorry. No one should feel so alone," you said, pulling him into an embrace.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his body warm against yours.

"Can you do something for me?" He asked, his breath warm on your neck.

"Of course," you murmured, closing your eyes, savoring the moment.

"Tell me you love me," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like you mean it."

You tensed, you had a lot of strange requests from clients, but this was different, this was personal, vulnerable. You hesitated, the words trapped in your throat, an ache in your chest. It was a lie, you both knew it, but there was a sense of power, of possession, in giving it to him, in letting him have this false truth.

"I love you," you breathed, a strange thrill coursing through you, a heat coiling in the pit of your stomach.

There was a look of pain in his eyes, a sadness that broke your heart. You wondered how often he heard those words, how many people he lost, and the thought sent a wave of sorrow through you.

"Can you say it again? " He murmured, his eyes pleading.

You kissed him, a soft, tender kiss, and repeated, "I love you."

"One more time, please," he whispered, his lips grazing yours.

"I love you,”

You could feel him smile against you, a soft sigh escaping him, his arms tightening around you. A part of you wanted it to be true, wanted to be there for him, to love him. Your lives were so different, worlds apart, but in that moment, you felt connected, in a way you had never experienced before.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice husky, a smirk on his face.

"For what?" You asked, your breath catching in your throat.

"For indulging me," he replied, his hands trailing up your back.

"You don't have to thank me," you replied, looking into his eyes.

"I- I don't do this often, if at all; I just needed to hear someone say that," he confessed, his voice barely audible.

You held him close, trying to comfort him, to take away his pain. The drugs were making you feel warm, fuzzy, and there was a hunger growing within you, a heat between your legs. But you pulled away, shame and guilt eating at you. Your job was to please him, to help him forget his troubles, to gain his gratitude for tips. You're not supposed to sleep with clients and especially not supposed to fall for them.

"Time is almost up handsome," you said, forcing yourself to disengage, to pull back, your brain screaming "no" at you.

You stood up, your heart aching, a dull throb between your legs. You wanted him, the ache turning into a need, and you were on the verge of throwing caution to the wind. To hell with the rules, the job, your life.

"Very well," he said, rising to his feet, his gaze lingering on your body.

"A tip," he offered, his lips curling into a grin.

"Only if you think I deserve it," you teased, a small smile on your face.

He approached you, his dark eyes filled with desire, his hands gently cupping your face. You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat, your mind reeling, and then his lips were on yours, soft, tender, sweet. It was a kiss filled with emotion, with need, with longing.

"You won't remember anything we discussed until I see you again," he murmured against your lips.

And with that, he walked out, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, a sense of emptiness filling you. You went to the mirror and checked yourself. Your make up was perfect, your hair artfully disheveled, your body still damp with sweat. You looked as if nothing had happened, as if Elijah had never been there, all you had as proof was the large stack of hundreds in your hand and an inexplicable ache in your heart.

{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four}{Moodboard->}

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[a060403]

𝐀 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: R18, smutt, afab!reader, established relationship, unprotected p in v, office sex, explicit language, long story ahead, not proofread, grammatical errors, oneshot

✒ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐍: Hello, I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm sorry for the grammatical errors ahead, English is not my first language but I do try to fix it.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!!

The office was bustling with activity as usual, but today, there seemed to be an extra layer of tension in the air. Miguel had been working on a particularly difficult project for weeks now, and it looked like things were finally coming to a head. His client had set an unrealistic deadline, and Miguel was starting to feel the pressure.

He sat hunched over his desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen as he typed furiously. The coffee cup beside him was empty, forgotten. His stomach growled audibly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He tried to push the hunger pangs aside and focus on the task at hand. As the hours ticked by, Miguel felt his stress levels rising. His mind was racing, trying to find a solution to the problem that seemed insurmountable.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead despite the cold air conditioning in the room. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his head, but it only made the world around him blurrier. Finally, when it felt like time had stopped moving altogether, Miguel's phone vibrated on his desk. He glanced at the screen, half-expecting it to be another email from his client, but instead, it was a text from you.

“Hey, just checking in on you,” you wrote. “It's been a while since I've heard from you. Are you okay?” He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit up straight. His shoulders were tight with tension, and he realized how much stress he had been holding onto. He typed out a quick reply.

“I'm fine, just swamped with work. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight.” As he hit send, he felt a tiny bit of the weight lift off his chest. Maybe you could help him unwind after all this was over. Or maybe they could take a break together tomorrow—something to look forward to amidst all the chaos. For now, though, Miguel turned back to his computer screen and redoubled his efforts to meet that impossible deadline.

A knock brought him out of focus and he dragged his eyes away from his laptop screen and towards the office door. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, and looked up at the clock. 7 PM. “Hey baby,” you gleamed and entered his office.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice sounding rougher than he expected. He stood up and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his back. “I didn't realize it was so late.”

You closed the door behind you and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested your head on his chest, and Miguel felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “How's your day so far?” you asked softly. Miguel looked down at you, feeling a pang of guilt for neglecting you all day. “Tiring, I might have to stay late again for tonight,” he sighed. “What brings you here?”

“Well, I was thinking of giving you a hand… seems like you need it.” You said, kissing his jawline. His body tensed in contact. A shaky breath escaped his mouth when he felt your lips travel down his neck. “Mmm,” He murmured softly, closing his eyes as you continued to trail gentle kisses along his jawline and up toward his earlobe.

“You know, I can't tell if you're trying to distract me or help me focus right now,” he chuckled, leaning back against the desk with a sigh. You smiled up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “Maybe both?” Miguel shook his head, smiling. “I don't know how you do it,” he said, running a finger through your hair. “But I appreciate it.” He pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together in an intimate embrace. “Now let's go get some food so we can actually talk about something other than work for once.”

He grabbed your hand and led you towards the door. As soon as you were outside, he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I missed you today,” he whispered against your ear. Miguel wrapped his arms around you, feeling the tension from earlier start to melt away. “I missed you too,” you replied, nuzzling his neck. “But you're always so busy.”

“I know,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. “But I promise we'll make up for it tomorrow.” He leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips, his hands running soothingly up and down your back. You could feel the heat between them building once again as he pressed his body against yours.

“Come on,” he murmured after a moment, breaking the kiss reluctantly. “Maybe we can find somewhere more comfortable to continue this conversation.” He winked at you playfully, tugging gently on your hand as they walked towards the parking lot together.

You found a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in the corner of their neighborhood. The atmosphere was dimly lit, with soft music playing in the background, creating an intimate ambiance that felt miles away from the hustle and bustle of their office building.

Miguel ordered some wine to share and spent the next hour or so just talking about anything but work—your favorite movies, your dream vacation spots, and even some silly childhood memories. As you both sipped on your drinks and savored each bite of food, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with him.

When you finally finished eating, Miguel took out his phone to check the time again (a habit he couldn't seem to shake), only to find that it was much later than he thought. “Wow,” he said, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. “I guess we really got caught up.”

“Don't worry about it,” you replied with a smile. “We both needed this.” He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Come on,” he continued. “Let's head back.” You left the restaurant hand in hand, feeling more relaxed and connected than you had all day.

As you walked down the street together, Miguel's arm brushed against your shoulder every now and then, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. When you finally reached his office, he took your hand and led you inside. The room was dimly lit as well, casting long shadows across the floor as you made your way to his desk. He loosened his tie before turning around to face you.

“So,” he began softly, running a finger along your jawline. “What was it you said earlier, hmm? Giving me a hand?” You bit your lower lip nervously as he stepped closer, bringing his body flush against yours. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “How about we make use of that right now?”

Miguel lifted you onto his desk, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire course through him. Your legs were spread wide, offering yourself to him in an unmistakable invitation. With trembling hands, he reached down and cupped your soft mound, feeling the heat radiating off it as he began to massage gently.

“Miguel,” you whispered hoarsely, arching your back as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. He teased at the sensitive folds between your legs before pressing slowly inside. You cried out softly at the sensation, hips jerking involuntarily. His other hand found its way to one of your breasts, squeezing and pinching the nipple as he took control of your body with both hands.

You whimpered, leaning into his touch. “Oh God, Miguel...I need you.” He looked into your eyes, his own filled with desire. “Estoy aquí, mi vida. Voy a cuidar de ti bien.” He murmured before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Miguel positioned himself between your legs, his cock at the entrance of your wet and eager pussy. He rubbed the head against your sensitive folds, teasing you with the promise of pleasure to come. “You're so beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips. His fingers traced gentle circles around your entrance, spreading your folds wider apart as he prepared to enter you.

With a deep breath, he pushed forward, slowly inserting his thick cock into your tight heat. You gasped as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him stretching you out. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he began to thrust in and out. The sensation was exquisite—the fullness, the depth, the feeling of being completely claimed by him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you arched your back, pressing your breast against his chest. Your hips undulated in time with his rhythm, begging for more.

His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as he began to thrust harder inside you. You moaned loudly against his lips, needing more of him. With one last glance at you, Miguel allowed himself to give in to the passion that had been building between them. As his pace quickened, his free hand slid down your body until it found its way to your clit. He started rubbing it in circles, adding another layer of pleasure to an already intense experience.

You continued to moan his name, and his own pleasure intensified. His hips bucked against yours in time with the thrusts of his cock as he reached for your clit again. He rubbed it harder, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The desk beneath you creaked under the force of your movements. You could feel the heat between your legs building up, ready to explode at any moment.

“That's it,” Miguel whispered hoarsely against your lips. “Let go for me.” With one final thrust, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. And then you both did—you screamed out his name as your orgasm crashed over you in a wave of blissful release.

His hot seed filled you up, and together you panted and shook from the intensity of their shared experience. As your heart rate slowed and the world around you started to fade back into focus, Miguel leaned in for another kiss, this one tender and full of love.

𝐀/𝐍: I do not own any of the pictures and are solely from Pinterest.

[delphi-shield]

Close in the Distance // Poly Drabbles

multichara x gn!reader wc: ~1650 characters included: jill, leon, chris, claire, rebecca, carlos, ada pairings highlighted: jill & leon, jill/claire, jill/chris, jill/carlos, chris/leon, chris/rebecca, leon/ada, leon/claire ada refers to the reader as gorgeous but i consider that a pretty gender neutral expression, ymmv. i'm kind of throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks with this, but i hope you enjoy it! i know i had fun writing it. i'm gonna go see fnaf and play splatoon until my eyes bleed lmao

Ada & Leon

Ada runs just as easily as she pulls you down to her bed. Leon leaves you with much more reluctance, but he leaves all the same. The note he leaves pinned to the fridge with a fish-shaped magnet from your last vacation (Roatán, blissfully uninterrupted by Leon’s work. Ada’s shadow darkened your doorstep two days before your flight home. She arrived in the night; you think you dreamt her arrival, her muted argument with Leon, but when you wake it’s with her arm draped across your waist. "Stay put, gorgeous," she tells you, her voice a sleep-addled rasp at your ear, "Leon's getting breakfast.") dripping with remorse and guilt.

On a rare reunion, you slip away to give them time to themselves and Ada reels you back in with an arm around your waist, tucking you securely between the two of them. They race for the same cheesy joke just to hear you laugh and exchange warm glances over your shoulder. You pray one day you will wake and they will both be there. You pray that one day you stop collecting the pieces they leave behind to remember them by.

Claire & Leon

Claire and Leon are in and out of each other's lives so often that you could tell time by it. Thanksgiving together and Christmas apart, a New Year's reunion obfuscated by the fizzle of fireworks overhead. Claire holds your hand in the crowd, Leon’s hand at the small of her back to guide the both of you. She leans close to be heard over the cheering of the crowd, promising to kiss you first at midnight. Leon doesn’t seem to hear, but he spins you away from her when the clock hits midnight, stealing the first kiss of the year, smiling against your lips as Claire whines and smacks his arm.

Days later, Leon tells you, "we're both in the doghouse now," when you come home to an argument and refuse to pick a side. Centrism is the biggest crime of them all to Claire, and Leon’s apologies are in short supply. You fall asleep with him on the couch, and when you wake with a pillow under your head and Claire’s humming drifting from the kitchen, you know that you are absolved.

Chris & Leon

Chris and Leon thought this arrangement was fine until their own unresolved feelings bubbled to the surface, their entire friendship recontextualized in the span of seconds over cheap beer. You lean against Chris’ shoulder, watching the gears in Leon’s head turning. A realization years in the making happens in the span of minutes for you, and it takes only a little bit of careful probing to understand that it’s mutual. 

They both drag their feet, men who know how easy it is to wreck something as fragile as this, neither willing for their hands to be the ones that break this time. To be direct is to be dismissed. Chris brushes off assurances that you don’t mind and Leon has told you in no uncertain terms to drop it. You feign tiredness one night and slip away, leave them to themselves, and like clockwork, they ask to speak with you about something the following week. Smug is an understatement. Your playful ribbing is worth putting up with if it means the three of you can move forward together - even if it means the porch swing is a little more cramped from now on.

"Don't let that one go," Chris teases, his eyes squinting in a smile.

"I don't think I can," Leon says. He means it to be a joke about the way you cling to his arm, but his voice too soft, too enamored for the intended effect, his eyes too warm.

Jill & Leon

Jill and Leon see too much of themselves in each other to ever understand the appeal, but god, do they love you. For a long time they operated on separate schedules. You had called it a custody arrangement once, a joke that you came to regret with every fiber of your being because the both of them had latched onto it and neither of them know how to let a joke die with dignity. The first sign of change is a text from Jill, sent at three in the morning (a difference in timezones she didn’t bother to calculate, you’re sure). An offer, their stupid custody joke to break the ice -  I know it’s your weekend, but that movie they want to see is coming out Saturday and I’ll be stateside. Do you mind if we go? You can come too.

It hadn’t been a good movie, some forgettable action movie you had laughed about all the way home, but ever since that night they had been more open to nights together. That’s how you wound up with your legs over Leon’s lap, your head against Jill’s thigh, Leon’s thumb tracing a lazy pattern against your ankle and Jill’s fingers carding gently through your hair. Their hands meet in the bowl of popcorn and Jill relents. Leon insists, no, after you, his tone as dramatic as the sweep of his hand. You can envision the way Jill rolls her eyes without picking your head up, and before they can devolve into a familiar back and forth, you chime in sleepily. "What, are you guys five? If you were going to get cooties, you’d get it from me."

Jill & Chris

“Wrong side,” Jill reminds you, indicating to her own ear. She doesn’t even need to look up from her breakfast. You click your tongue and move to Chris’ left instead, repeating your question louder, clearer. They move so fluidly around each other, nearly two decades of trust informing every word, every look, every action. At times it feels like they inhabit the same body. It's all you can do to try and fall in step with them. They make space, slow their pace, guide you where they have to. Chris is ever the worrier, but it’s Jill who watches you like a hawk when the three of you are out, who grips your wrist loosely and nudges you up with them, never letting you fall behind. Unhurried time together is short on supply, but you cherish every moment of quiet, every laugh, every old story they have to explain to you, you cherish the hurt and the pain, the grief that they try to borrow from each other, all the things they would rather forget yet choose to trust you with.

Jill & Claire

Jill is an expert in handling Redfields, but she can take them apart just as easily. She says she’ll teach you one day. A well-placed ‘got it out of your system’ during an argument starts Claire’s rant all over again. A hand at the nape of her neck, curling her into Jill’s side to calm her. Jill’s methods are effective, but they’re hers. You weave your own way between them, fingers interlocking with Claire’s, palm flat against Jill’s, the way each of them prefer. Jill will drink her coffee anyway she gets it, things like preferences and personal taste feeling like an afterthought to her after so long of nothing but survival, but you see the scrunch of her nose when it’s too dark, too bitter. You slip sugars and cream one cup at a time until you find the perfect blend, and it doesn’t take Claire much longer to catch on to your discovery. There was peace before, and there can be peace again.

Jill & Carlos

"Not that one," you tell Jill, swatting her hands away as she tries to pack one of your many stuffed animals up, the small army having taken over most of the bed. "Carlos got me that one." Jill rolls her eyes, muttering that they're all from Carlos. His absence is filled with plush toys, cheap, soft substitutes for his presence - but at least he tries to fill the void. Jill becomes a ghost when she's away for work, insisting her silence is for your benefit. She comes back to you battered, vacant, and she asks you what you've been up to as if she might fill herself with your memories instead.

If it weren’t for Carlos, you would have no idea how she’s really doing. He has her back, he assures you, and you wonder if he’s reminding himself as well, if the distance she forces (for your own good, she repeats, her tone firmer) bothers him as much as it bothers you. Pulling her back to you isn’t always easy, but Carlos is a steady presence at your side. His gifts for Jill are fewer and farther between - Jill told him to cool it, by his own admission - but you notice as she thins out the stuffed animal militia, she leaves the dog plushie he had gotten her right where it is.

Chris & Rebecca

Rebecca drags you through the aisles of a department store, stuffing colorful paper decorations into the cart you push. Chris is coming home - properly coming home, not just a quick stopover between flights. Rebecca wants to surprise him, and you worry he’ll be too tired. You worry his assignment took a turn for the worse, that the last thing he needs is a fuss when he’s barely had time to process the aftermath. Rebecca assures you it’s fine. She insists she wouldn’t be doing this if everything hadn’t gone well. You reach for the pink and blue streamers on the top shelf, dropping them with the mish-mash of other supplies in the cart as she tells you more and more about the assignment. “I think that’s supposed to be classified, Becca,” you remind her. She shushes you, a finger pressed to her lips. You make a detour to pick up a case of beer, making a bet with Rebecca on how long it will take Chris to ask for a cold one. Chris arrives on time for once, no delayed flights, a blissfully short debriefing at base. He drops his duffle bag the second the door is shut, eyes cutting to the fridge. His arm winds around your shoulders, tugging you into a hug. 

“Guess you missed me,” he says, taking in the decorations. Rebecca patters in from the kitchen, spreading her arms wide to gesture at the apartment, transformed briefly into a discount Party City. He’s tired, it’s clear, but he laughs all the same. It only takes five minutes - as you predicted, shooting a successful smirk at Rebecca - for him to ask, “Hey, any beer in the fridge?”

[mikhailwrites]

MWIII Campaign thoughts&opinion

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD (OBVIOUSLY)⚠️

Alright, here we go. Modern Warfare III. Disclaimer: I've been part-timing as videogame journalist (not in EN, obviously) for the past 10 years so this might read a bit like a review which this is not.

It's been a year since we watched the 141 sit in the bar in Chicago and look at the photo of one Vladimir Makarov. And the day of reckoning is finally here, at least for those of us with eaely access to the campaign.

The game opens, surprisingly, from the Konni perspective. As one of Konni soldiers, you infiltrate the prison to free your boss. First look at Makarov is menacing and leaves an impression.

Speaking of Makarov, however, I can't but feel like the writers had dropped the ball. It's obvious they were trying to go for the unhinged psychopath vibe but honestly, so many Makarov's lines borders on ridiculous, oftentimes crossing the line entirely. At times, I felt like I'm watching an old 007 villain and I don't mean it in the good way.

Most glaring example was in the Flashpoint mission. As Price and Soap capture Makarov after bombing the stadium in Verdansk, the terrorist then taunts and mocks them, revealing to know their names and threatening them with a revenge. The dialogue is, frankly, on a bad side and Makarov in that scene sounded to me more like a spoiled, rich teenager than much feared leader of a private army with ambition to start another World War.

It also contrasted wildly with the continuation of the scene where we see Soap almost lose it, tackling Makarov and pressing a gun to his head while Price tries to dissuade him from killing the criminal on the spot. That bit was well executed and I really liked it.

What I also liked was the Passenger mission and the very unique perspective we got as players, feeling the helplessness of the victim as it's forced to play role of a terrorist, solely based on their ethnicity. The "You're not a terrorist, but you look like one," line felt very powerful, especially in the context of current affairs.

The whole campaign felt very rushed and, in my opinion, the total commitment to the "race against the clock" hurt the narration a lot. There is not a moment of respite and every piece of the puzzle is delivered in a manner so hurried, I sometimes had trouble following it.

Especially in the Danger Close mission as we, similarly to MWII, operate Shadow Company gunship to provide air support, and out of nowhere, we get a shout that there's a helo nearby and Makarov's in it.

We then proceed to shoot the helicopter down and Makarov is seemingly KIA. Well, he's obviously not but the whole scene is delivered in such a luckluster manner that I was wondering if I perhaps missed some cutscene or debrief (I didn't) and was asking myself if the developers are even serious.

The overall pacing is off, especially compared to MWII and this leads to the lack of impact and emotional response.

Which brings us to the more sensitive part of this post. Being a Ghost/Soap shipper, I was happy to see the two interact and to pick up the rapport established in the previous game. Like many others, I, too, would appreciate more time with them, but I would appreciate more missions and longer campaign rather than cut other characters' screen time.

When they are on the screen, banter is usually quick to follow. Soap and Ghost interact easily with each other, hinting at a natural progress of their relationship. The Milena interrogation is especially great in this regard.

And then there's that ending. Honestly, I knew someone would die. I think it was pretty much given. Still, I had my bets on Ghost, thinking that Soap was way too fresh and had his whole career ahead of him to be sacrificed. Well, I was wrong.

In the confines of the story, it makes sense it's him. There is major foreshadowing happening in the Verdansk mission and when Soap ends up going with Price at the end, well, it was clear. Soap almost killed Makarov years prior, Price stopped him, and now Makarov comes and kills Soap right in front of Price. The choices and consequences. It makes sense.

But.

But it serves no purpose. It's literally the last mission, so what could've served as the major catalyst for the big finale - rest of 141 coming for Makarov for some good old revenge - just ends up rather sour. Especially since Johnny, during his last struggle, as he saves Price's life, doesn't even manage to kill Makarov, only injuring him, albeit badly.

It gets worse when you realise that during both games, Soap didn't get any justice at all. In MWII, he seemingly kills Graves, taking a revenge for the betrayal and the Alone mission. Only for Graves to casually reappear later, stating he wasn't in the tank that the game clearly stated he was in.

And now he loses his life without taking Makarov with him. It's... beyond sad for the character to get treated this badly by the narration.

The team's response to his death is a bit mild as well. It starts well, with Ghost scrambling to him as soon as he spots him, feeling for vitals even though it has to be clear to him that he's gone, that felt gutwrenching. But after that? It's... lacking some stronger emotional response. They say their farewells to Johnny, a single sentence each (and, my god, did they truly think the "he was the best of us" clichè would work on any level whatsoever?), scattering his ashes, and that, too, as great as the animation was, just... felt a bit hollow and artificial.

There are ways to kill a beloved character to make it feel truly heartbreaking and meaningful. The scriptwriters here should've taken notes from Destiny 2's Forsaken DLC for example. They could've used Soap's death in a myriad of ways, including making player to choose between, say, saving Soap and letting Makarov escape. Or between saving Soap and defusing the bomb. Or just about dozen other narrative choices that would make Soap's death more meaningful and would have much bigger impact on the player.

As it is, I cannot help but say my own farewell words: Johnny died, but what for?

[russellsppttemplates]

Breathe for me (Pierre Gasly)

Y/N's anxiety has been building throughout the week and it finally crumbled down

Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I've represented it well enough. It is different for different people, so what I have here is a possible scenario and not the only scenario.

Tags: @myloverjk-blog

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's anxiety symptoms which build up to an anxiety attack

You and Pierre had been invited to join his friends for dinner, and while you thought you were better from last night, things were showing otherwise. Walking around with your skirt unzipped, you tapped your tummy in hopes that the nervous feeling would settle once for all.

Things had felt off throughout the wholr day, it just hadn't been feeling right. And, quite honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to go and sit through a dinner, pretending you were fully composed when, deep down, your mind kept racing and you couldn't shut it off.

It wasn't because of the company, after all, you had known them for a good while and even felt comfortable around them to the point where admitting what was going on wouldn't be an issue, but right now, Pierre seemed to be the only person you could be with and not feel overwhelmed.

"Amour, do you need- hey, are you feeling okay?", Pierre asked, noticing your nervous stance as you paced around the bedroom, "hey, talk to me, please", he asked, stopping you on your tracks and holding you in place as softly as he could.

"I don't know if I can go. I'm not feeling very well, so I think it's best if you go and I stay", you said, genuinely wanting him to go and have a good time, knowing you wouldn't be the best company right now and that this particular group of friends hadn't been together at the same place in quite some time.

Pushing you to sit on the bed and sitting next to you, Pierre laced his fingers in yours while making sure you were looking at him and taking in every word he said, "hey, we don't need to go. I can call them and tell them we can't make it, they'll understand", he offered, "I want you to be okay, no matter what", he said, "but you can go, I'll just stay here. You haven't seen them in a while and you don't need when you will all have the opportunity to get together again", you said. Finding today to be the date where everyone was available had been enough of a struggle.

"I'm not leaving you feeling like this. I'm staying", Pierre said, grabbing comfier clothes from the wardrobe and helping you undress, "we are going to have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he asked.

After changing into comfortable clothes, you and Pierre stayed tucked in bed after he texted his friends, his arms protectively around you as you managed to relax a little bit, happy to stay in his embrace while he read a book with you.

.

"Do you think we can get that done until Friday?", one of your colleagues asked, "the client needs it for their meeting, apparently he's having dinner with the investors", she rolled her eyes.

"I think I can, but they should really stop and think about doing these things in such a rushed way, I mean, it's not the first time we're almost running against the clock", you reasoned back, booking another meeting with her to sort out the last final details before handing the project in.

The uneasiness feeling that had been with you since you woke up was not sitting right, so when you logged off your laptop, you decided that working out would be a good distraction and allow you to forget about it.

"Are you heading for a run?", Pierre asked you as he walked inside the bedroom, seeing you put on your sports bra, "I was planning on doing some yoga, maybe go for a walk after", you said, watching him walk over to the drawer where he kept his workout clothes, "do you mind if I joing you? I promise I won't utter a word", he smirked, kissing your cheek and changing from his day clothes.

You and Pierre arranged the room so you could lay the mats, pressing play on the video and doing your best to mimick the moves and positions the young woman was going on the screen. You weren't an expert by all means, but exercise had always been a good escape when you felt overwhelmed, and having Pierre with you, even if you weren't talking or touching, made you feel his support and attentiveness.

"Still up for that walk?", he asked as he handed you your bottle of water, "yes, I think so", you smiled.

Walking on that park had become a common thing for you, being almost able to walk with your eyes closed from how many times you had been there, "are you feeling better now?", Pierre asked.

By now, he had noticed your patterns and preferences, so it wasn't too hard for him to notice that your day hadn't been the best, "yes, thank you for joining me. I know you know you don't need to, but I'm happy you did", you sighed, "my deadline just became a lot more real, so I need to hurry. But I'm also aware I can't do much if I'm worried, so here I am, trying to shush the worry away, at least for a bit", you explained, feeling your boyfriend squeeze your hand in his, "you did well, amour".

.

Work was finally over, you had handed in your project and you thought it would make you feel at ease, that it would allow you to finally feel a little bit lighter, but it didn't. Your thoughts were still spiralling, and they didn't seem like they were on the way to settling down. Your legs started to feel tingly, and you didn't trust them to stay up, so you sat on the living room floor with your back against the sofa, letting your body feel the softness of the rug while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.

You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you heard a noise far away, approaching quickly as you could make out your name in what the person was saying.

"Amour, Y/N, hey...! Breathe for me, yeah?", said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, feeling Pierre's hand coming to hold your own, the feel of his fingers very faint as you struggled in regulating your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, amour. Everything is fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something you had mentioned before that always calmed you.

Encouraging you to breathe with him, you finally got up to his rhythm, looking up to his eyes and despite the worry in them, you also saw the calm that comes after the storm has passed. How it all seems too much, it bursts, and then you're just left with the aftermath.

"There you go, that's good, good, just like that", he said, sitting on the floor and sitting on your side so he could pull your body against his, seeing you were struggling to hold yourself upright.

You stood there a couple of minutes, your eyes closing for a little bit before you croaked a few words out, "can we go to the sofa, please?", feeling his arms go around your back and under your knees, swiftly pulling you against him and getting up from his spot, walking to the sofa and cuddling there with you, brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Do you want some water? A snack perhaps", he advised, "I'm just a little tired, but thanks", you smiled weakly, "you're alright, ma belle, take all the time you need".

You must have fallen asleep on your boyfriend's chest, because when you woke up he was still there, but the window was no longer letting sunlight in and rather moonlight, the TV was on what looked like the evening news and you could feel a blanket covering you and Pierre.

"Hey, you", he whispered, kissing your forehead as he helped you sit up straight, "are you feeling better? A little more rested?", he asked, brushing the hairs away from your eyes, "yes, I am", you smiled, "thank you".

"Those hadn't happened in a while", he pointed out, "yes, it had been a while. I've been able to manage it, but it just crumbled today, before I could get it together, it's just crumbled", you explained

"That's okay, it happens, amour. You're still very strong to have managed ti well, I'm proud of you", he said honestly. Pierre always made you feel safe and never once judged you, instead always wanting to learn how to help you when you needed him and how he could make things better for you. So he wasn't lying when he said he was proud of you and how far you had come.

"My throat is a bit dry", you said, getting up and being followed by Pierre to the kitchen, sipping on the water as he grabbed something to snack on, "do you want some food?", he asked, "no, I'm good", you stated.

"What happened that got you to have the attack?", he wondered, "I handed in my project today. It had been building the last few days, and I was so sure they would be gone by the time I submitted it", you shrugged your shoulders, "now I know what to expect", you smiled, wanting to comfort Pierre and erase the crease between his eyebrows.

"Do you want to go and watch a movie? There's a new Disney one I haven't seen yet", he changed the subject, having gotten the information he needed and looking for a distraction, "Lead the way, handsome".