#i meant to come back at the start of the month im sorry </3

[dailyaagirls]

girl 1 and 2: trupearl edition

[hearties-circus]

Yknow I don't think I've had a magnum ice cream since the night before the punishment and having one now.. yeah I cant really blame myself this ice cream is good

[merchelsea]

Hi hi

Can I request a Oscar Piastri sister reader x Lando

Maybe she's older than Oscar by a year and dating Lando, I want it to be angst with fluffy ending cus im a sucker for those 😭 either the reader and lando gets into a fight and they take a break and Oscar ends up being the middle person with a happy ending

Or

Oscar didnt know his sister was dating Lando and she introduces Lando to her family as her bf and oscar's just hurt by how they didnt tell him in advance?? and he starts being petty and ignore them...but it also ends in a happy ending

Idk idk I'm good with any as long as it's angst fluff sorry this is long 😭😭 thank you as welllll <3

family matter — lando norris (+op81)

pairing: lando norris x fem!piastri!reader

summary: you introduced lando to your family, as your boyfriend, and your brother didn’t react as well as you hoped

autor’s note: you guys love a piastri sister x lando story. (well i love writing them so keep the requests coming!

word count: 2k

warnings: angst. sad oscar. swearing.

masterlist | requests

lando stood nervously on the passenger seat, while you drove to the restaurant. he didn’t need to say anything for you to realize how insanely nervous he was.

you told him tonight was the night you would let everyone know what he actually meant to you.

you had been dating for a month and some days, and not telling anyone was crazy, in your perspective. you knew everyone would support you, but you were still a little apprehensive. after all, lando was oscar’s teammate, and you didn’t want to make things at work difficult for neither of them.

it was a good opportunity today because your whole family agreed to go out for dinner after a good home race for oscar. lando got a podium, oscar got fourth place. it was good for the team and for both drivers.

even though there was some controversy.

once you told him, the british immediately panicked. your family loved him, and he was aware, but he couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling.

seeing him so tense, you decided it was better if you drove. you were not completely normal about this either, but you felt this was way easier for you.

as you got closer to the restaurant, you felt like you needed to, at least try to, calm him down.

“they already love you, lan. it’s not like us being together changes their opinion about you.” you looked over at him as you parked the car.

he simply nodded, kissing the back of your hand after holding on to it for a while. you stood in the car a little more.

“you’re right. let’s go.” he finally told you.

you both walked together up to the table. oscar had his back to you, so you hugged him from behind. other members of the family smiled at lando’s figure behind you as you kissed oscar’s cheeks.

“you brought lando?” your mother asked, a smile plastered on her lips as she walked over to hug the british.

“yeah… hm. i wanted to tell you guys, something…” you started, making every one face you except your brother, who you were still holding. “well, me and lando, we are together.” you slowly let go of oscar as he turned around, a serious expression on his face. “as a couple, boyfriend and girlfriend…” someone let out an excited noise and all you could see were smiley faces.

“finally!” your dad said from across the table, coming closer right after and hugging lando in his own way.

the driver was clearly nervous, but way better then before. a soft smile in his lips as he looked over at you.

you looked at oscar, trying to get a reaction out of him and he simply smiled, nodded and whispered a ‘congratulations’ to both of you, before turning around to eat again.

you sort of expected a better reaction from your brother, maybe an excited one, maybe a protective one.

the aussie looked like he didn’t care enough to give it a minute of attention.

maybe it was just because today was supposed to be about him, and you ruined it. maybe he wasn’t so pleased to have lando as a brother-in-law. maybe he was just tired because of the race.

you didn’t give it too much thinking, you moved to his right, sat next to him with lando by your side, and ate. making conversation with everyone around and looking over to lando from time to time, to make sure he was doing okay.

that night, you got home with lando and received an extremely good feedback from your family. they loved norris, and were delighted to have him as a part of the family.

oscar, who didn’t seem to be so pleased, never texted you. you noticed it and found it strange, but once again thought there could be other explanations to it. not just that he abhorred the idea of you two together.

some weeks passed away and you were now on lando’s driver room. sitting on the edge of the couch, caressing his hair.

norris knew you loved formula one more than almost everything, so he made sure to have you there in japan with him, since oscar had already gifted his own passes.

your boyfriend looked over at you with a concerned look.

“hey, baby, have you talked to oscar after we told him we were together?” he asked, playing with the zipper of his race suit.

“i don’t think so.” you stopped to think, and realized you hadn’t indeed talked to him. which was odd, as you were always glued to each other. “i think he’s been pretty busy.”

lando hummed and you looked down at his face. “why?” you asked, he shook his head while looking at you.

“nothing, love. it just looks like he’s avoiding me.” with half-closed eyes, you hummed.

after all, your theory might not be wrong. maybe oscar didn’t like the idea of you and lando as more than friends.

“i’ll try to talk to him, lan.” you bent down to kiss his forehead. “you have free practice in a few minutes, don’t worry about this. it will be okay.”

he sat up and hugged you.

“i love you.” he smiled against your neck.

“i love you too. good luck, baby.” you smiled back, feeling his lips on the sensitive skin. he eventually got up and left the room. you stayed back a little to get his laptop and notebook, for after the fp sessions.

lando had two shitty sessions, finishing 10th in one and 12th in the other. on the other hand, oscar managed to pull some really good laps, finishing 8th and 1st.

your boyfriend got out of the car and looked over at you to let you know he was okay, as that was always a preoccupation, and talked with his mechanics, giving them feedback about the car and what could be improved.

oscar did the same thing, not taking so long because there wasn’t really much that the mechanics could do on his car.

piastri’s feedback after the first free practice helped him realize that the problem was how long he took to brake on the corners. improving that, he made an incredible fp2.

“osc, good job.” you smiled at your brother as he passed by. the aussie simply nodded his head before going into his driver room.

you thought of following him immediately and get things cleared out, but maybe you should just wait for lando. this was about him too, after all.

your family wasn’t here yet, because, except for your father, none of them actually liked formula one. they liked that your brother was brilliant doing it, but they didn’t really know anything or cared about the sport. so they only came for the race. never even qualifying.

your dad watched them from home, not wanting to leave your mother alone with all the hosting responsibilities.

once norris was freed, he walked up to you and held you in his arms.

“you were distracted out there.” you stated. the british let out a frustrated sigh.

“i know… it’s just the oscar situation. he’s one of my closest friends in formula one. i don’t want him to hate me.” you chuclked, pulling the man closer to you.

“he doesn’t hate you.” you commented. “let’s talk to him.” lando’s eyes widened and he pulled back to try and see if you were serious.

“now?” he asked and you nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him though the garage until you reached oscar’s private room.

hearing a knock on his door, oscar ran to the door.

“hi?” he was confused with your presence. it wasn’t you he was waiting for.

“hey. i think we need to talk.” without asking for permission, you entered and dragged lando inside with you.

“we do, actually.” oscar states, closing the door and leaning against his table. lando took place on top of a balcony and you leaned against that same balcony, standing face to face with your big brother.

no one said anything for some seconds. trying to figure out what was the best way to start this important conversation.

“you guys should’ve told me.” oscar said, looking between the both of you. anyone who knew him could tell how hurt he was. his eyes reflecting it.

“we told you!” you remarked.

“yeah, after what? two months?” he sarcastically pointed out. “next time send me a letter, maybe it would be faster.” you rolled your eyes and lando stood still, understanding oscar’s side perfectly.

“this isn’t about you.” you said, lando touched your back gently, trying to calm you down.

“you are my sister, y/n! do you even know how much i care about this? you are my other half, the person i love the most in this whole entire world!” oscar’s voice rose a little as he spoke. “and lando, you are my friend! you both kept this from me and discarded me in the process. i was informed at the same time that auntie joannah was!”

you felt the urge to laugh at the mention of the old lady’s name, but kept your expression still. a little more saddened now that you were realizing just how big your mistake was.

“oscar…”

“no, y/n. let me finish.” he asked. you simply nodded, and he continued. his arms were crossed in front of his chest now and he had his race suit halfway down. “you have been distancing yourself and i have no idea of why. at first i thought you weren’t okay because of hate or how things were going with tennis, but you don’t seem very preoccupied with that, so i really don’t know.”

he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i’m sure you had your reasons, but you’re my best friend, y/n, and constantly feeling like you don’t trust me anymore, or don’t consider me as you did before… it hurts.”

sadness embraces you as you listen to your brother. lando caresses your shoulder from behind you.

“maybe i should leave you two to talk, this is family matter.” the british suggests.

“you’re family.” both you and oscar say in unison. lando couldn’t help but feel his heart warm, smiling softly to himself as you think of some way to explain things to oscar.

“you know, i would have been your relationship’s biggest supporter if you had given me the chance.” oscar was the one to talk again, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. you needed to hug him, and so you did.

it was a clumsy hug, but it meant everything to you.

“i never meant to hurt you, osc.” you truthfully told him, feeling his grip tightening around you. “it was supposed to be a surprise…”

“what a fucking great way to do it.”

as you both hugged each other, lando watched from the balcony. he too was scared of losing oscar’s friendship, but he was sure that you would do the right thing, and sort things out.

“i never thought you would see this as a good thing. from the start, you and lando got along really really well, and i never wanted to get in the way of that, but i did not control it.” tears threatened to come out of your eyes at any time.

“when it happened, when we happened, i was terrified… but this was strong, i couldn’t stay away from him even if i tried. it was the kind of love you can not put down… and the idea seemed to be less and less terrifying.” you tried to explain. oscar payed close attention to every word you said, and lando, from the balcony, did the same thing.

it was the first time you opened up to someone other than your own figure in the mirror.

“and then i embraced this. this idea of being his, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend and i could never say no. i love him!”

you turn around to look at lando, who hugged his knees and smiled at you. oscar looked too and immediately realized that norris was the one for you. just by his eyes.

“but i still wasn’t prepared to tell you, because of every single devilish thought in my head. so i kept my distance because i know i wouldn’t be able to lie or hide anything from you. but i never, ever, stopped trusting you or considered you less.” you remarked. “you’re my osc, my big brother, you are my everything, and i’m sorry for not communicating.”

you could see in his eyes how hurt he was, and you hated to think it was all because of you.

“i’m sorry, oscar. i really am.”

“i like to know stuff. and i love you,” he pulls you into a real hug this time, allowing you to breathe freely again.

lando, who was still sat on the balcony, walked over towards you and stood next to you, watching the sibling moment with admiration in his eyes.

it was rare to find such a connection.

when you two pulled apart, lando finally broke his silence.

“hey, osco… i’m sorry too man. we both thought about surprising you, and i may have been a little more guilty than y/n there, because i didn’t want you to hate me for dating your sister.”

oscar smiled at the brit.

“i trust you with her, and i don’t hate you. but if you ever even think about hurting her...” lando nodded knowingly, and they touched hands.

“i would never. i really love her.” oscar pulled your boyfriend into a hug and you stood back, watching the two of them.

“i can see it.” oscar smiled as they pulled back.

lando ran his hand from behind your neck until he reached your shoulder, and pulled you close. he kissed the top of your head.

“i’m family now eh?” lando bragged and oscar rolled his eyes.

“don’t make me regret it.”

[sonderessence]

What abt a

e42 miles x spiteful blk fem spider reader

so what if miles (1610) cheated on reader with gwen (😒..) and to get revenge on him for cheating on reader with.. gwendolyn.., we get with his earth 42 self!

(if you could make this a series i would literally cry of joy.)

Angst for 1610 Miles (IM SORRY I LOVE YOU POOKIE😭☹️☹️🩷)

Fluff and Romance for 42 Miles (🤭🩷)

DONT HIT MY LINE! ...

1610!MILES & 42!MILES X READER!

WARNINGS: vulgar laguage (cursing), ✦ CONTAINS: 1610!miles being a bitch!!

a/n: imma be honest, i am such a gwen slander after the movie (still love her tho) 😒 but i so love this idea !!

layout inspo/creds: @hiimayee the best miles fic writer!! :3

NOW PLAYING: I HATE U - SZA

part one. ✦ part two ✦ part three

your boyfriend 1610!miles had been acting strange since he saw gwen after all these years, but you just shrugged it off as him being happy his friend was back in his dimension.

you never thought that your suspensions were true when you found your now ex with his "friend" behind your back.

you looked around the predominantly empty library in search of your boyfriend miles, who was nowhere to be seen. it was highly unlikely for him to be late to anything.

maybe something was last-minute? you would go ask his mother, rio, since you go to her for everything in the more frequent months since miles had been acting — odd — but you doubt she would know since her and her husband were out of town.

grabbing the pile of books you and miles you used to study for the test you knew you were going to fail, you scurried your way you the hushed library.

the sky was temperate, the perfect temperature for the park you thought, smelling the fresh, cool air — but focus! miles has to be somewhere around campus. you stuffed your books it your bag and made your way to his dorm, maybe he was still asleep?

you made your way to his dorm and softly knocked on his door, careful not to wake him. there was no answer. "miles?" you called to the door. again, no answer.

you pulled out your phone from your bag and went to his contacts. maybe he was sick or just skipped school? you had fussed at him the week prior to get more sleep, since he always came knocking at your window to late at night.

wait, should you call him? he's probably busy. and with that thought, you put your phone back in your bag and made your way to the morales house. it wasn't far from the school you two attended, so getting there wasn't a problem.

you knocked on the front door, once, twice. where is he? "miles!! you home??" you heard footsteps from the other side and the door opened to see miles who looked like he was in a rush. his hair everywhere and shirt backwards.

"hey! you okay?" you asked, your voice laced with concern for the boy.

"yeah." he said, his voice coming out hoarse. he cleared his throught. "m'fine, wassup?"

"you were s'posed to meet up with me at the library." you meant to sound playful, but your words came out more of a scoff. "look," he started. "i just forgot."

"forgot?? miles, you could have texted me! i was fuckin' worried about you!" you were furious, crossing your arms with a frown. "you done?" he asked with an eyebrow raised — you could see the twinge on annoyance in his eyes and you could hear it in his tone. "am i done?" you scoffed "are you done running off and not checking up on people??"

he didnt know how to answer that. "look, i'm hella busy right now, we can do the study thing or whateva later." he pinched the bridge of his nose. "fine." you muttered as you walked out the door.

a/n: how we feelin' about the first chapter?? i might have gone all out but part two is otw!

TAGS: @kazustqrzz, @kxllanxtdoor ( the tags are being annoying 😒)

©bachirasegoist, 2023 — do not steal or copy works

[twost3ps]

This boy has been in the drafts for like a month

I'm feeling like I want an Adam sandwich with two slices of Morningstar brothers so you guys are going to hear me out on my LucifurxAdamxMicheal au (and I mean it in a they both share Adam in the end :3 ) In general I'm calling the ship ✨️GuitarStars✨️ boooyaaa I feel like there might be a better name for it but idk

(Also I’ve noticed there is complaint for guitarhero in the adamsapple tag. I'm tagging this post as adamsapple this once of it but post related to this with both brothers will be counted as #guitarstars.

I also completely agree with the complaints. There is a problem with the tagging so this is a very quick reminder to please tag properly!!! Ik it's not meant to be harmful bcz most guitarhero shippers are also adamsapple as well. But i will admit there has been a lot of unecessary tagging (i am guilty of this im so sorry qwq) so please be mindful!!!! Ik this post might go agaisnt that but its just this post i swear sorrryyyy)

ANYWAYS The actual au:

For now I'm calling the au- Angels on My Shoulder (I can't think of a good title rn grrr)

quick sketchs so you get the idea

General prompt:

Adam respawns as a human with all his memories. He lives a normal happy life until he turns 21 when two angels (Micheal and Lucifer) appear on his shoulders with a mission: try convince him into making certain decisions so that he ensures a spot in heaven or hell.

That doesn’t work out very well because adam hates how theyre forcing their ideals onto him one way or another. He doesnt really want to think about heaven or hell anytime soon. Heaven or hell seems like complete torture to him. The fact that he didn't like either of them before he respawned doesn't help.

A revelation happens and both brothers realize it's not gonna work on their terms so they're gonna have to earn his favor first before trying anything. One of the ways is talking it out beacuse adam had expressed several times over that, while at first it was funny, their bickering needs to die because it's getting annoying.

They talk it out. They make up. It takes a whole but they become close again. They try to earn adams favor in the meantime and between time. Everything is at peace. As time goes on though, the wooing is no longer for just adams favor, its now romantic. Both develop feelings for Adam. And since now they made up both made up they are very willing to share him.

The og goal is completely lost. Gone with the dirt and dust. And now what was once a competition to get Adam into heaven or hell has spiraled into heaven and hell trying to get into Adam. If you catch my drift.

Do they get in there?

God bless they do

(Ps they start off as small little mascots but then later grow into their normal form and an added human form. Adam Prefers the small mascots though)

My in-depth of the au that is very subject to change I just wanted to rant is under the cut o3o

So when Adam had died, he respawned onto earth. Born into a normal family and all that jazz. He lives life as normal and has comes to terms with it. He actually loves his life. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore and lives as normal. He’s not insanely good or insanely bad, he’s just a guy.

A guy who is very happy with himself. After graduating he becomes a national park ranger.

Heaven and hell both know of adams soul, but contant cant be initiated till he turns 21 (It was recognized because I wanna say 21 would be the age Adam technically was in his creation during Eden, and thats when he can process divinity without his body tweaking as if he were any other mortal. Souls grow along with age and all that drama, adams soul in eden was strong enough to stand the sheer power of a seraphims presence) both sides made it their immediate duty to guide him to their path.

Sera wanted Adam in heaven to clear her mind- to have heaven back to perfection with the original perfection creation (also to have her son back, but she's not ready to unpack that for herself.)

Lucifur wanted adam as he could punish him directly for hurting Charlie and her friends. A little tiny part of him also really wants Adam all for himself grrryrvgrvsgrs

So both heaven and hell spawn a representative guide for Adam to follow once his soul is ready to guide. Lucifur nominated himself and Sera nominated Micheal who agreed.

For some reason (probably amix of earth and god or sumn), Adam's presence nulls the powers of both angels and devils. So the first time they appear, Micheal and lucifur appear as small tiny mascots on Adam’s shoulder.

(Adam has flicked both of them away several times and they can't really do anything about it other than fly back and try again)

Both sides had the same idea and Adam connects the dots very fast on why they are here without them telling him. And he's pissed.

His normal life is now ruined.

Adam actually really hates both Lucifur and Micheal. Lucifur for obvious reasons and Micheal because he's just so nitpickey. Micheal had trained Adam in the past and that guy was brutal. Adam understood part of it was with Lucifurs falling and their brother thing and whatever but god daymn bro needed to chill. If Sera was on him like a hawk Micheal had been on him like a spy camera from space monitored by the secret service. In a way, both devalued adams emotions to some capacity so Adam hated both of them equally. Nothing Adam could do about it though because he was human.

In the beginning, both micheal and lucifur kept it really formal between them. Its strained but neither brother imposes on what the other one advises. That doesn’t stay for too long. The formalities between Lucifur and Micheal die pretty quickly. Under 2 months tops. While both are very old and very much adults, they are, first and foremost, SIBLINGS.

Both begin talking over eachother, butting in, shoving eachother. It's like pre eden all over again between the two on who is better. Most of the time they argue about the most random topics forgetting their og purpose.

After one year of enduring both of their bs, Adam feels like he has a dog and a cat rather than two otherworldly gaurdians monitoring his every move.

He doesn't complain though. After a while he's learned to tune them out. He also finds it incredibly entertaining watching the literal devil fight with the a high angel while being incredibly small. And with no powers it resorts to petty slapping. He's gotten pretty used to it....

Except when it comes to them making him choose what actions he takes.

They're always on him about everything. It sucks so much ass. Everything Adam tries to do something good, Lucifur tells him that it's stupid, that he should be more selfish and blocks Adam. He keeps on telling him that deep down adam really isnt all that, and why should he try and do good when everyone knows that hes not really that. Micheal does the same thing in reverse. When Adam does something considered bad, Micheal raves on how he'll go to hell. That Adam was made in perfection and must reach that perfection. That heaven is waiting for him and is available only if he keeps on doing good.

It makes Adam so mad when they remember what they're trying to do.

Adam doesn’t listen to either angel because after living part of his life as just a normal person, he’s come to realize he doesn’t want to think about living life wondering if he’s going to heaven or hell. Adam does not want to face eternal punishment or be in hell. He still really hates sinners, and while the blood hungry killer part of him died with his second life, he still thinks that the majority of those sinners are disgusting to say the least. But he doesn’t want to walk eggshells to be virtuous enough to enter heaven. Heaven, for all its greatness got tiring after 1000s of years. He's grown tired- already hated hell and grew to hate heaven. He doesn’t want to think about either, he doesn’t want those ideas to deter him from choosing what he wants to do. He wants to make both good and bad decisions without an angel watching over him. He wants to be able to make both good and bad decisions. He makes this very clear after a breakdown.

It becomes less of a competition over making Adam choose and more of getting into Adam’s favor after that because their first tactic is clearly not working.

So both agree that they will have to earn adams favor before making him do anything.

But in order to get adams favor both have to learn to get along because it had become one of Adam's biggest gripes. Funny at first, but the bickering and arguments got tiring after the course of a few years.

So they do attempt to make up. Genuinely. It's hard and its tough. Theres a lot there to unpack. But both jnkw that if they don't do this Adam is not going to listen to either of them because getting along has go go both ways.

And they do make up.

By the time Adam is in his early 30s, the close proximity and a lot of Adam yelling to sort it out, allowed for some slow but needed time to talk it out. They would do it infront of Adam who was the mediator, but they mostly would talk when Adam falls asleep as both watch over his dreams (creepos imo). They begin talking about their decision and their lives. Both brothers do acknowledge that they miss each other and that they have committed several wrongs with each other. And soon the fighting turns to light banter and life is good. They still try to earn adams favor but it's a lot more calmer. Everything's more calm.

Atleast that's what adam thought at first.

While bonding and stuff, they both come to the mutual agreement that they could share Adam. So they both freak it and try to woo Adam together.

And then now it's a matter of Adam freaking out because while before, both his little shoulder angels used to argue, they their bickering distracted them enough that Adam could chill and leave.

Now they're both bothering him and helping eachother try to get in adams pants. They're tag teaming him now.

It doesn't take long for their combined forces to make Adam cave.

The og goal is kinda gone. They still put their input but adams become more open it because they're less demanding and he feels like their goals are more aligned to his wants than theirs. Lucifur and Micheal also come to kinda realize that where Adam ends is where Adam ends. They're going to have to just suck it up when the time comes but they'll enjoy sharing while it lasts.

It gets pretty domestic and slice of life here. So the years following is a mix of sibling bonding and having ✨️the rizz✨️ on Adam.

Lucifur talks about hell and Charlie. Micheal talks about heaven and lucifur and his siblings. (Both Micheal and Lucifur arent permannt shoulder angels, they can actually pop away if they wanted to) Adam talks about his life and stuff.

When Adam eventually dies, his soul is neither here or there (because getting absolutely boned by twin morningstars does not make you virtuous or sinful it just makes you a bad bitch) his soul spawns in limbo. He’s deprived from salvation but doesn’t endure the horrors of hell. It’s basically a decent sided garden with a basic house in the middle where the garden ends is white space. On opposite ends of the garden are two doors, one goes to hell and the other to heaven. Turns out, the doors are connected to Micheal and Lucifer’s homes, but only appeared in them once Adam died. He’s allowed outside limbo into heaven or hell of his choosing for a limited amount of time and visites Micheal and Lucifer when he can. On the flip side Micheal and Lucifer can freely walk in and out of the place. I don’t want Adam to be lonely once he enters limbo so Cain and Abel are there because they died before heaven was ready and when he’ll just started.

So that’s pretty much it :3 kinda

incomplete but doesn't have everything I wanna say

Also

I will reiterate what I said at the beginning. I love you my guitarhero ppl but they are right in the tagging. It comes from a place of love so just be mindful!! Also, this is from me, sometimes the adamsapple vs guitarhero thing gets repetitive. It's a very common post ive seen. And I mean in general not just leaking into the adamsapple tag. That might just be me, but I do see it pretty often. Love it but that with the tagging does get a bit old. Really, the problem is a mix of incorrect tagging and the same trope. There's a lot more to the ship, especially with Micheal being free reign rn, so there is a lot of opportunity to show their relationship besides comparing it to Adamsapple.

I feel like somone who ships guitarhero also had to say something so yeyeye

Again, no offense to anyone guitarhero isbmy love but just please be mindful guys o3o

If you read all that thank you lol

[nmakii]

Hi! I'm not the one that requested no one is better than I am.... BUT I loved it so much! I was wondering if you could make a part two say maybe the person we ran away with turns out to be abuse or something like that and we're kinda like 'I fucked up' and realize maybe running wasn't such a good idea.... Anyway you can add your own little twist and you can ignore this if you wish <3

- rose anon 🌹

AND I KNEW YOU’D COME BACK TO ME.

— this relationship wasn’t meant to last long. all is forgiven though. alastor will forgive you.

— tangled reimagined 😮‍💨 didnt even realize it until i finished writing HAHAHAHAHA

a month later, the honeymoon period had died out. to be fair, you hadn’t exactly made a plan…crashing at a motel on the edge of mississippi, not exactly what you had in mind.

living off the scraps of what you took, pawning off your belongings. oh, this was not ideal at all. and, how your lover got when he was angry; he’d bruise your arm from gripping way too tightly whenever you didn’t get enough money. how you started to miss alastor, it’s true what they say— you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

if you were able to run once, perhaps you could just one more time? he is not as smart as alastor, you should be able to get away easily in the night.

yes, you should. after trading away many of your items, all you have left is but a satchel worth of dresses. new orleans is not particularly far with a car either.

and so, a familiar memory of running away at the dead of night. only now, it is you returning to alastor, just like he knew you would.

when you returned home, it was 2 AM. the house was just as it was when you left, albeit quite dusty now without your care.

you dropped your satchel on the dining table, just as you left it. it’s almost as if your home was abandoned when you left.

in the bedroom, your husband, sleeping peacefully— an arm clinging to your side of the bed, as if holding onto what little scent of you there was left.

when you opened the bathroom door, a silk nightgown was hung, simply waiting to be worn.

after you had changed, you sat back on your bed, the familiar smell of home coming back to you. as you laid in bed, you found yourself facing alastor.

your hands moved to bring him closer, the warm touch waking him scarily quick. “my love, you’ve returned.” he smiled, bringing you close.

your muscles tensed at the pet name, frightening reminders of the last month coming back. “hey, calm down, dear. i’m not mad.” he reassured you, awfully calmly at that. “running away; it was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

you nodded as you relaxed under his touch. “he was awful… im sorry, alastor…” you frowned. “oh, darling, i told you, didn’t i? no matter, all is forgiven.” he cooed, brushing your hair gently with his nimble fingers. “i’ll protect you from all that is bad in this world. no evil will meet you as long as i live. all i ask… is that you stay here, with me, forever— take care of our house, cook dinner, and perhaps even care for our little ones in the future?” he rambled on, a wide smile upon his face as he thinks of your future together. “ah, i’m rambling, we can discuss that in the future. in the meantime, could you do that, dear?” he asked, offering it to you as if you had a choice.

you nodded, not even looking at alastor. “good. i love you very much, don’t you know that, my dear? all i want is for you to be safe.” he told you. “…i” you started, thinking carefully of your words. “i love you too, alastor…” you said.

did you truly love him? of course you did. he took you back after you betrayed his trust, he’s a wonderful husband.

the moment the words fell from your sweet lips, a wide smile found its way onto alastor’s face. a kiss pressed upon your forehead.

his little doe finally returned his affections. it’s only a shame of his that he had to hurt your delicate heart first.

why would a single man be in a luxury store? oh, words cannot describe how thankful alastor is for your foolish naivety.

word on the street, that eugene was quite the heartbreaker. not to mention, that criminal record of his.

convincing him to go through with it wasn’t hard either. seeing a new toy that knows nothing of his record, he was more than eager to play with you. all it took was a bit of cash for him to keep up the sweetheart act.

and now that his doe was home, there’s no use for trash like that man in this world. the bruises on your arm, they were not what was intended.

all he asked was a simple grab, but it seems he got carried away, that piece of garbage.

as alastor forcefully swallowed his anger, he held you close, massaging the bruises on your wrist. “rest well, darling. you’ve been through a lot this past month.” he cooed, slowly lulling you to sleep.

oh, how excited he is that his little doe is home. to celebrate, we need a special meal, don’t we? say, there is a rare meat that alastor has been dying to try.

[artdcnaldson]

and when we move on (we dont) and get a new boyfriend and get engaged all within the span of six months and suddenly art finds himself at your engagement party and you look happy and he thinks maybe he imagined his importance to you - maybe he had it wrong and he was the fleeting obsession. how else are you able to move on so quickly? he's miserable but he still plucks up the courage to come congratulate you even if he doesn't mean a word of it. says, "you look beautiful - honestly." just because, well you do.

and its then that your mask slips - you look like art punched you - not those slaps you'd both traded in the past - but like he'd genuinely punched you in the gut. wounded ane pained like he'd just said the most awful thing in the world to you. and your hands tremble when you hand him your champagne glass and mumble "im sorry - excuse me -"

you have to be somewhere alone. suddenly constricted and panting and you find and alcove to lean against and you feel tears burn your eyes and even worse still, a presence at your back - "hey, what -" because of course its him, of course it is. "what's wrong - what did i say -"

you could laugh. you could laugh if a sob wasn't cut off in your throat. you hate him. on your engagement day. the nerve to say you were beautiful. with those genuine eyes and soft expression - like he meant it. like he always thought you were.

he breaks your heart and and you try to move on - you let yourself drown in the next man that shows you attention because arts words follow you everywhere - how you're not the marriage type - well, your fiance wanted you. he wanted you and that had to be enough because if you remained alone and unwanted you think you'd die from the pain of it -

so for him to say something like that now - all of the sudden -

"why do you hate me? i left you alone, didn't i? patricks still your friend. you have everything you wanted - I just want to move on, art. I just want to be wanted - why are you here?"

GODDDDD your mind <3

You know it’s sudden— everyone knows it’s sudden. But you’re the only one who knows why you rushed into it so intensely. Why, after six months with someone, you agreed to marry someone who you hardly even knew.

You knew the basics— Charlie wanted to be a college professor. His mother was filthy fucking rich, old money, and she liked that you came from an affluent background. He enjoyed skiing, and watching tennis, and he did rowing in high school. He was allergic to cats. He liked ordering raw oysters and slurping them down embarrassingly loud at restaurants. He never ordered for you, always paid the bill, never pushed you past a heavy makeout session on the couch.

Because you couldn’t go past that anymore. You couldn’t be easy, couldn’t give it up. You had to be the type of girl someone would marry, you had to be girlfriend material, and wife material, and mother material.

Charlie wanted to get married, wanted a big family, and you checked those boxes for him. You’d never have to want for anything, he’d pamper you and keep you spoiled like you were used to. He was strawberry blonde like Art, but his smile was more refined and practiced, and you wish it wasn’t. When he proposed you said yes, and cried tears that were supposed to be happy, but how could you know for sure?

Art shows up to the engagement party as Patrick’s plus one, and you feel dizzy. But you have to be normal— you can’t give anything away. You just… try to avoid him. When he starts gravitating your way, you find an excuse to talk to someone else, or make your way into the kitchen for a fresh drink. Anything to stay away, because you can’t fucking see him. You can’t do that right now, or ever.

But of course he finds a way— he’s too polite or maybe he’s just too cruel to leave the party without offering a congratulations. You’re cornered like prey, grip so tight on the stem of your champagne flute that you’re worried it’ll snap.

And he doesn’t say congratulations. He just looks at you with a genuine, completely earnest smile and says, “You look really beautiful. He’s really lucky.”

You feel your heart seize in your chest, like someone’s grabbed it and squeezed viciously. The corners of your mouth twitch downwards, but you fight it and bring a polite, practiced smile to your lips. “Could you excuse me for a second?”

He looks confused as you put your glass in his hand, as you close his fingers around it so he doesn’t drop the expensive crystalware. As soon as you’re sure he has it, you’re weaving through the many guests to find solitude. Most of them are Charlie’s friends, few are your acquaintances— people that would just as soon pray on your downfall as they would offer a sweet congratulations.

You slip into the hallway feeling suffocated, drawing quick breaths through your nose until you tuck yourself away in a nicely tucked away alcove and take a slow, steadying breath.

But Art lingers at the edge of your vision, and you want to just cry and cry as he gets closer, as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, what…” his brow furrows, he searches your face for some sort of clue, something to help him understand. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

The noise you let out is strangled, almost animal. You look at him and see that he means it, he doesn’t fucking know, he doesn’t understand. Maybe he just can’t.

“I can’t believe you’re—“ your voice cracks and you look away from him. You can’t stand to see that kicked puppy expression, the earnest concern. You can’t fucking look at it. “And after everything?”

Charlie is a good man. Charlie makes you happy, or he can one day, with time and distance. And he sees you as someone he wants to spend his life with. Isn’t that enough? Why is Art trying to spoil it for you when the alternative is proving him right? That would kill you. You’d rather just die.

“I was just…” he trails off, turns your face toward him with two fingers against your chin. The softest he’s ever touched you, and it feels so foreign and wrong that it shatters something inside that you thought you’d fully repaired. “I thought you’d want to know. That I still think about you, that I want you to be happy.”

Tears spill down your cheek, inky and black from your mascara. “You’re so fucking mean, Art.” Your voice is weak as you look at him. He drops his hand back to your side, but stays close, so close you’re reminded of how intoxicating his presence can be. “Why are you doing this to me? Huh? I did what you asked and I left you alone. And I didn’t tell Patrick, because I didn’t want to hurt you. Why isn’t that enough? Why are you trying to spoil this for me?”

Confusion and hurt flashes across his features. Is that what you thought he wanted? For you to really leave him alone? He didn’t want that, it nearly fucking killed him. He spent the end of senior year tanking in tournaments, he hardly slept.

Patrick had told you about Art floundering, and it made you sick. You’d actually laid in bed crying about it, wracked with guilt. You thought it was all because of you, because you’d distracted him and ruined him.

It felt like he was there only to remind you that you were poison. That you would do the same to the sweet boy just through a set of double doors as you had done to him. But you wouldn’t. You’d never do that again.

“Charlie wants me. I’ve been his girlfriend for only a few months and he already wants to marry me,” your wavers pathetically as you think back to what Art had said back home. The prospect that he could be right was fucking terrifying, but you’d left that girl behind. “He could be the only one who wants me like this. So why are you trying to show up to my engagement party and look at me like you— like—“

You can’t say it, but he knows. He looks at you and he knows. You wince as he sinks to his knees in front of you, tears filling your eyes. Because his hands slide up your calves, settle on the back of your thighs.

He kisses your knee, softly, reverently, looks up at you with soft, desperate eyes. You sigh softly as his lips trail up, skimming along your soft thighs. You lean back, pressing against the wall, feeling yourself melt for him.

“Art,” you gasp weakly. “You can’t. We— we can’t.” You know you’re speaking the truth, but your words and your actions aren’t aligned. Your fingers card into his hair, and your entire body lights up when you finally touch him again.

It aches in your chest— longing and hurt and love and hatred. You never felt as much as you do with him. Charlie doesn’t light up that part of you the way Art does. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it needs to be hidden away, cut off like a rotting limb.

His lips press to the spot just beneath your hem, and he peers up at you. “Let me.”

Not a question. A plea. Let him.

Let him what? Love you? Touch you? Let him eat you out in the shadows of a hotel hallway? Let him back in? Let him have you? Let him be yours to worship again?

“Okay,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “Okay.” You repeat, just to make sure you’re certain. Of what, you don’t know.

His head slips beneath the skirt of your dress, and you moan softly at the press of his lips over your panties. Soft, sweet kisses over the fabric that make you open up for him. You feel need dripping from your center, longing.

You haven’t been touched since him— not that he’d ever actually tried. But having him touch you, kiss you… it feels like ice melting.

He tugs your panties to the side, mouths at your cunt like he’s kissing it. Like he’s kissing you. You moan softly, let your head knock against the wall.

“Art—“ you practically sob. His tongue parts you, laps at you from your dripping entrance to your clit. He moans and nuzzles closer, lets his nose rub against your clit as he presses his tongue inside of you. He squeezes at your thighs, dimples the plush flesh there.

You’re so sensitive— it’s a combination of months of barely even touching yourself, of missing him, of craving him. You’re dripping onto his tongue, moaning softly. You can’t manage more than soft gasps of his name, pleas for more— Art Art Art Art Art.

He draws your orgasm out easily, like it belongs to him. Laps at your release, works you through it until your knees are shaking. He pulls back, mouth glistening with your release.

He stays on his knees, presses another soft kiss to your thighs, and another, over and over again. Soft, reverent, tender. He looks up at you so earnestly, so desperately, that you feel a sob stick in your throat.

“I need to get back,” you say suddenly, when the ache in your chest is too much to bear. “Charlie’s probably wondering… you know— I’ve been gone too long.”

“Charlie?” Art asks, his voice weak, pathetic. He’s still looking up at you from his knees, and he has to scramble up when you start walking towards the women’s bathroom to tidy your makeup. “Why are you doing this?“

He could be asking anything. You answer what you think he needs to hear, what h ended a to know. “He’s going to be a good husband, Art. He’s always sweet, and he’s never… he doesn’t just see me like— like what you see.” You take a steadying breath. “What you said to me back home was true, I know that now. But I can’t just be alone. It’ll kill me.”

You pause, let your lip twitch into a sad smile. “Just please leave me alone, Art.”

You slip into the bathroom, he hears you click the door locked so you can’t follow. Not like last time. When he returns to the party, he drinks three more glasses of champagne. He leaves before Charlie gives a toast to you, to your impending marriage. He can’t fucking stomach it.

[highvern]

Teach Me VI

Final

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au

Warnings: angst, pining, crying, alcohol consumption, jealous pouty DK, meddling Seungkwan and Hoshi, eventual smut, dry humping, making out, face fucking, munch DK as always, unprotected sex, cream pie, they're simps for each and its disgusting!, DK wearing a chain that dangles in readers face bc im sick and twisted, kinda choking but not really?

Length: ~7.4k

Note: SURPRISE!! ITS HERE!!!! this series started in OCTOBER which is wild to think about. two months of these two plaguing my day to day and so many amazing readers interacting with the story honestly makes a little emotional for it to end. this is the first series i've ever done and now it's over so soon but there are bigger and better things on the horizon! (goes and cries in the corner) If you notice any errors or typos pls ignore.

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

read more here

[MONDAY 11:23 AM]

YOU: Home

Mr. Boo: Thank you! Love you!

Mr. Boo: We can have a bff night when I get back

[MONDAY 4:48 PM] 

DOKYEOM: Hope you got home safe

DOKYEOM: I’m sorry, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.

DOKYEOM: Can we talk this week?

Dokyeom doesn’t leave his room the rest of the weekend. A combination of fear of Seungkwan beating the crap out of him and absolute heartbreak keep him wrapped in the covers. Not even Soonyoung can elicit more than a half-hearted grunt when checking if his roommate is still alive.

The drive back to campus is no different. Staring longingly out the window, Dokyeom stares at his unanswered messages. When he goes to your Instagram he finds your account missing with the sinking realization you blocked him.

Seventy two of the best and subsequent worse hours of his life crumbled your fragile relationship. He thought you returned his feelings. 

After Soonyoung blabled a drunken confession on Dokyeom’s behalf, he worried you’d drive off in the night; swiftly rejecting him. But you wrapped your arms around him and held him as you slept. Kissed him awake in the early morning sun, nothing but a soft smile and presses of lips across his face. It was better than anything Dokyeom hoped for. He thought it meant you liked him back even if you didn’t say it yet.

But then you interrogated him and the hot tub and it all came crashing down. You were trying to let him down easy, buttering him up before giving him a reality check. It’d hurt of course. The tsunami of shame at thinking he had a chance and then adding insult to injury when you called him childish. 

Dokyeom knows he was wrong for his reaction but embarrassment sent him spiraling and he needed to get as far away from you as possible. 

And now that he’d succeed, he doesn't think he can find a way back.

—

Monday and Tuesday are spent suffocating under a mound of blankets, munching on a carton of ice cream, and crying till your head hurts and your throat is sore. The string of texts from Dokyeom remains thoroughly ignored; but each buzz of your phone raises your heart rate to unhealthy levels until you read the notification from some store offering a discount. 

You ignore the string of messages from Dokyeom, tempted more and more to block him as they come through; but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Just like you can’t bring yourself to delete the pictures of you two together peppered throughout your camera roll, or the most recent video that does nothing but make you sick to your stomach.

Tuesday night your roommate returns to campus, cheery and well rested from a weekend with her boyfriend back home. You hide from her friendly questions about your weekend in the bathroom, shrouded in steam and bubbles.

Looking at yourself in the mirror after you're sufficiently pruned and chilled from freeze drops, you notice the traces of Dokyeom still on your skin. 

A tiny maroon bruise is fading to a sick green right under your collar bone. Prodding it with the tip of your finger, you wince at the tenderness of the flesh. 

You hate it. 

Hate how somehow your eyes are thick with a gloss of tears at the sight of a hickey, they way you can’t catch your breath when you realize the shirt you brought in with you is another one of his you lifted over the months.

Dokyeom hadn’t been your boyfriend. You two hadn’t even been casually dating. Over and over again you remind yourself you were just friends who had sex, and you shouldn’t be this torn up over a guy. Dokyeom didn’t like you and that wasn’t something to hold against him. 

But the facts do nothing to stop the knot permanently lodged in your throat.

—

The first time you see Dokyeom post-not-breakup, he’s sitting in one of the rolling chairs at the mahogany table you two claimed for your usual study sessions. 

Blood frozen, heart clenching unbearably, you turn and walk right back out the revolving glass doors, hoping he didn’t see you.

But the echo of quick footsteps behind you say otherwise.

“Hey! Y/N!”

Faltering for a moment, you keep walking as if you hadn’t heard anything. And because the universe has a sick sense of humor, the crossing light turns red just as you approach, leaving you stranded with the one person you didn’t want to see.

You whip around at tap against your arm with such ferocity you nearly stumble.

Dokyeom has the gall to smile at you sheepishly before opening his mouth, “Hey.”

“Hi.” 

“You weren’t in lab yesterday.”

“Nope.” You respond monotonously, glancing behind you at the still red crossing light.

“Did you need notes or—”

“No, I got them already.”

“Oh, well—”

The light turns green, allowing you to race across the road before Dokyeom can finish his thought. The heat of his gaze doesn't leave your back until you turn down the next road leading you home.

—

Your second interaction with Dokyeom is in the same sterile lab your friendship started. You slip inside just before class starts, narrowly avoiding getting locked out by your grumpy instructor. 

Sliding into an open seat near the door, you stare straight ahead as he delves into the topic for this afternoon, pointedly ignoring the pair of eyes watching you from the familiar station at the back of the room.

“Finals are almost upon us people so I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that the lab is not open after hours. Meaning, you should prioritize your time in this room. Now let’s get started.”

The guy you’ve been partnered with is nice enough, willing to follow your lead as you read off the necessary equipment. He even manages to crack a few jokes, though not funny you’re thankful for the distraction.

You learn his name is San, he’s an underclassman and he doesn’t understand anything about the class despite attending every lecture and office hour available. 

When he leans over to copy the results you’ve scratched into your notebook, you hear a crack and shatter behind you. A dozen heads twist towards the source of commotion, finding a red faced Dokyeom staring at you.

“Mr. Lee! May I remind you our lab equipment isn’t cheap!”

“Sorry,” he mutters, shuffling towards the broom hanging on the wall.

You focus on ignoring him the rest of class, which is surprisingly easy with your new partner pestering you with inane questions. 

A lull hits, waiting for the digital scale to spit out a final reading. You managed to pull well ahead of schedule, calling over your instructor to verify your results before collecting your things. 

“So,” San starts, stuffing his own notebook in his bag. “Would you be down to tutor me sometime?”

“Oh, I uh—”

“No pressure! I just saw some of the old quizzes in your folder and thought maybe you could help me out.”

“Sure,” you smile, taking his phone to enter his number. 

Voices from the different stations echo off the blank walls, drowning your conversation out.

“Awesome! My boyfriend took this class last year but did about as well as I’m doing.”

Returning his phone back, you start walking to the door. “Oh, really?” 

“Yeah, he told me to take geology instead but I didn’t listen.” He laughs, stepping forward to hold the heavy wooden door open for you to pass.

You miss the sound of a second beaker breaking as you walk down the hall with your new friend.

—

“Dude, you have got to calm down.” Soonyoung pleads, head hanging off the couch as his legs extend into the air. He swears the increased blood flow makes him smarter.

Dokyeom nearly wears a rut into the carpet from his pacing across the length of their tiny living room. He’s been in a mood since that afternoon, watching his not-girlfriend-possibly-no-longer-friend giggle with some dude that wasn’t him. And then give her number to said dude. In front of him. All while she completely ignored his existence.

“He probably just asked her to study together.”

Jealousy isn’t Dokyeom’s thing. Sure he may whine and pout if he isn’t getting enough attention, but he’s never got the blood boil urge scream like he has right now. And about a girl that won’t even look at him.

Tangling both fists in his hair, Dokyeom tries to calm down. Soonyoung was probably right. You’re a genius at chemistry, you’re slated to officially tutor through the library next semester pending final grades, and the guy Dokyeom swears he’s never seen in class most likely asked you for help. It’s not his place to be jealous.

“Hate to be that guy but you need to get a grip”

It's easier said than done. There's four more weeks of class plus a four hour final and your Seungkwan’s friend. You’re not going to disappear after the semester ends and Dokyeom’s feelings surely aren’t going anywhere given he’s got a constant reminder that you’re the woman he lost his virginity to. 

If he knew inviting you to that party at the beginning of the semester would end up like this, he'd have sat somewhere else the first day of lab.

Soonyoung chokes on his own saliva when Dokyeom collapses on the floor with a reluctant, “You’re right.”

“I am?” Eyes bugging so hard they nearly pop from his head.

“I just have to move on.”

They both silently agree to pretend Dokyeom is capable of that.

—

San and his boyfriend, Jay, turn out to be horrible study partners. You are hardly able to focus from the way your abs hurt from laughter; Jay has a talent for self-deprecating humor.

“You didn’t!” You gasp, ignoring the daggers being glared into you back by other library goers. 

Typically you’d respect the needs of others, but they chose to sit on the first floor; if they needed real quiet they should have sat upstairs where it’s enforced by a graduate librarian with nothing better to do.

Jay nods solemnly, “I threw up on him during our first date. But he,” flinging an accusatory finger at his boyfriend, “insisted we go to some weird food truck so it’s his own fault.”

“You said you liked to try new things!” San defends.

“Not food poisoning!”

Descending into giggles, you feel sorry Seungkwan is missing out on two people he’d get along with. But he canceled at the last minute, leaving you at the large oak table all by your lonesome until you’d run into your classmate, looking for a seat.

From the corner of your eye, you see a familiar someone approaching. White blonde hair and trademark grin, Soonyoung stops at the edge of the table.

“Hey, Y/N” he grins.

Sending him a tightlipped smile you return the greeting.

Soonyoung introduces himself to your tablemates, both just as friendly as he. Thick palpable tension descends into the warm atmosphere and you’re about to rise and get another coffee just to escape it when Soonyoung turns back to you.

“Could I take a look at your results from the last lab? We didn’t get to finish in time.”

The unspoken half of ‘we’ is Dokyeom. 

You hate the flare of curiosity flashing in your head. When you partnered with Dokyeom you always finished on time if not early, even with his joking.

“Ugh, sure.” You agree, digging into your bag for your notebook.

Not waiting for an invitation, Soonyoung slides into the chair next to you, pulling out his own notebook to copy down your answers quickly. But even after collecting the necessary info, he lingers.

“So you’re in lab with us too, right?” He asks San.

“Yeah, but I’m probably taking it again next year even with Y/N’s help.” San smiles.

“And you?” Soonyoung asks Jay.

“No, I took it last year.”

“Glad to see someone can make it out alive! Do you guys mind if I hang out until my friend arrives?”

The friend is definitely Dokyeom but you don’t want to look like a bitch in front of your new acquaintances nor have to explain the mess of your love life to either of them. 

Soonyoung’s self satisfied grin when you flash a tight lipped smile and nod nearly tempts you into strangling him. Why is he choosing to torture you? It’s Dokyeom’s fault no matter how you look at the situation. He tricked you; had you falling for the saccharine persona and ambiguous confessions. Dokyeom rejected you at the cabin for everyone to see, humiliated you, and then had the nerve to act upset when you wouldn’t speak to him.

You try to focus on the worksheet in front of you, a proactive effort to prepare for the final exam still far away. Drowning in extra credit had been an exhaustive effort to get your mind off of your issues but Soonyoung had to ruin it. And now he’s laughing with San and Jay like best friends and it’s all too much. 

Shooting up from your seat, they all stop to stare as shaky hands pack up your materials. “Sorry, I forgot I had a thing. Somewhere else. Bye!” 

Halfway to the door before anyone thinks to question your eagerness to leave, you walk right into another person.

“Shit sorry!” The faceless stranger exclaims as your books and papers go flying.

“No, I should have been watching wher–”

And when you look up, Dokyeom is staring back. 

“Sorry, let me help you.” 

“It's fine!” You snap, scrambling to shove everything into your bag.

You will not cry in the library: not over Dokyeom, not in front of Dokyeom. But once the concrete steps out front greet you the first tear falls and they don’t stop until you fall asleep curled up in your bed.

—

Later that week, in the sanctuary of your dorm, you indulge in contraband alcohol and the hype of your best friend.

“You need to just rip the bandaid off.” Seungkwan announces, arms thrown wide to punctuate his point.

“And how do I do that? I still have class with him!”

“Okay but how much of his stuff is still here?”

“Only like a few things.” you shrug, glancing around the room.

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan asks, throwing himself from his perch on your bed, crossing to the basket full of laundry in front of your closet.  “Because this is a hoodie from his high school, this is the shirt I got him for his birthday a few years ago,” he shuffles around the collection of socks and pants to pull more of Dokyeom’s belongings out. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t wear boxers.”

Seungkwan launched the wad of clothing your way, disappearing into the bathroom in search of more evidence of your ex-friend with benefits.

“You let him keep a toothbrush here?” Seungkwan yells, head popping out with the neon green piece of plastic dangling between his fingers.

It's tossed into the growing pile at the foot of your bed, your rage-fueled focus on the smattering of objects on your desk. 

More cheap wine and outrageous laughter has Seungkwan encouraging you to race across campus and return everything as soon as possible.

Red faced, he steadies you by your arms, “Listen, the sooner you get rid of this stuff the better. You’re like subconsciously holding on to him or whatever.”

Mooney eyed, you nod at your friend’s wisdom, scrambling for a bag.

The tote of Dokyeom’s belongings you’ve accumulated over the months sits heavy on your shoulders; bulging with the assortment of clothes, a spare phone charger, and a book that was severely overdue at the library you’d found under your bed.

Each click of your shoe against the tile floor echoes in the eerie silence as you walk down the hall towards the door of his apartment. The sterile lighting and gray walls are familiar yet alien under the new circumstances you're visiting. 

You won’t be greeted with the smile you’ve grown to miss or the puppy-like excitement that once made you feel special. Both things of the past you hope to forget. No one had your heart fluttering or twisting in knots the way Dokyeom had. But those happy memories are just memories. And the sooner you cut him out, the sooner you can forget them.

Your fiery determination to get over him ignited in the walls of your bedroom had begun to smolder as the chilly wind and movement sobered you up. 

A large part of you hopes it’ll be Soonyoung answering the door, Dokyeom absent for whatever convenient reason as you dumped his belongings and walked away for the last time. Worse case scenario, neither are home and you're left feeling like an idiot, lugging the ridiculously heavy bag back across campus in the freezing wind and rain. 

Worse-er case scenario, Dokyeom is home.

The door to the boys’ apartment is like all the others, but the hot pink “please don’t do coke in our bathroom” doormat stands out. A gift from Jeonghan, if you remember correctly.

A quick rap of knocks announces your presence before you can lose your nerve, stepping back as you wait for it to crack open.

As luck would have it, Dokyeom answers the door.

“Um–” he starts, clearly confused by what he’s seeing.

Shoulders square, back pin straight, you thrust the bag at him. “Here’s your stuff.”

“Oh.” Dokyeom exclaims, still confused, but cradling the tote into his stomach.

“Well, bye.” You turn to leave but stop when he calls you back.

“I can grab your stuff real quick. Since you’re already here.”

It is a horrible idea. Alone with Dokyeom, in his apartment, where the only person to hold you accountable is yourself. But you can be done with this entire mess once you have the hodge podge of items you’ve no doubt accumulated here.

Nodding once, you follow as Dokyeom turns to head towards his bedroom.

Suffocating tension, thick as tar, fills the air. Dokyeom doesn't attempt to replace it with ill timed jokes as he digs in the black dresser in the corner of his room. The bottom left drawer had been long cleaned out of his own clothes, making room for the odds and ends left behind following your rendezvous. 

A sizable pile of clothes lands on his unmade bed, followed by some toiletries you forgot at the cabin in your haste to flee.

Your ears are ringing from the quiet at this point, unable to look at Dokyeom swapping his belongings from the canvas tote with your own. Focusing on your phone, you scroll mindlessly, as Dokyeom works slowly to prolong the torture. He unfolds and refolds all the shirts, lost pairs of pants and shorts, before cramming them into the bag. If you took a second to look at him, you’d see longing glances in your direction with each item he packs away. But you don’t chance it until he approaches you when he’s finished.

“Here,” he says, eyes downcast as he hands you back the full bag.

Lifting it from his hands, you move back to the living room, bee lining for the front door and the sobering cold air outside.

“Wait.”

The smooth metal doorknob is cold against the wrinkles of your palm. All you need to do is twist and it's over. Unlatch the lock, step outside and your relationship with Dokyeom, whatever it may have been, is done. No more crying, no more wondering. Only four more classes and you can leave the mess of the past semester behind you forever.

But you can’t do it. The smallest part of your heart, buried under the weight of anger and sadness, pleads for you to stay. To give Dokyeom one last chance.

You wait for him to say something else, not moving a muscle as you take shallow breaths. Body tense in preparation, you’re afraid you might shake out of your skin. Being alone with Dokyeom was a stupid idea. 

Realizing you're not going to leave, you hear him shuffle closer.

You jump when he speaks again, voice right over your shoulder. “Can we please talk?” 

“What’s there to talk about?” You frown. 

At his responding silence, you chance a glance over your shoulder, met with sad brown eyes. 

“I just—,” he shakes his head, chin tipping towards the floor to examine his socks.

Prompting him again, “What do you want, Dokyeom?”

“You asked me if I liked you… and I do.”

You squash the seed of hope rooting in your chest, afraid that if he tramples it again you’ll never recover. Turning to face him, you cross your arms pensively. His confession should send your heart racing and your cheeks flushing. But why does he sound so sad about it?

Dokyeom scrubs a hand down his face in frustration. “I should have told you sooner but I— I kept waiting for the right time and then that night happened and I thought I messed everything up. But then we started fooling around so I thought ‘there’s no way she likes me.’ You know? 

From where you’re standing, Dokyeom is exactly the kind of guy anyone would go for. Warm as a ray of sunshine, contagious laughter, thoughtful. Excited by life, and brimming with affection for anyone lucky enough to be considered his friend. 

It’s a shame he can’t see himself the way you see him.

“I know all you wanted was to hook up and I was fine with that until you came to the cabin. Soonyoung had to run his mouth, and I thought you were trying to let me down easy in the hot tub so I got embarrassed.”

Biting your lip to stop the rebuttal simmering on the tip of your tongue, you feel the scowl melt off your face, morphing into a questioning gaze.

“You’re like, the coolest person I know. You’re funny and you’re smart and pretty, god you’re so pretty.” he breaths, finally looking at you. “And I feel like every time I get to see you I can’t breathe. And us hooking up made it worse because I’ve liked you since the first day of class when you sat down next to me and smiled at me. I thought I was gonna throw up.” Dokyeom raises his hands in defense as you scoff, quickly clarifying, “In a good way! You just— you make me nervous and stupid and now you hate me.”

He finishes the last part in a whisper, face vulnerable, looking at you helplessly.

“I don’t hate you.” You warble, launching yourself into his arms, tangling your limbs around him to squeeze as close as possible. It’s ungraceful, your head knocking into his chin, his feet scrambling to balance the unexpected shift of weight. But Dokyeom barely hesitates before pulling you into his chest, face buried in your neck while trying to force you into his skin by his arms around your waist.

Two puzzle pieces, carved to fit perfectly together. 

“You don’t?”

Squeezing him tighter, you calm in the thud of his heart and the pine scent of his cologne. You both simply bask in the presence of one another. At a week and a half, this is the longest you’ve gone without the other since you started your arrangement.

Dokyeom presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, sweet as sugar. His lips ghost against your hairline as he starts to speak again. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”

“I shouldn’t have called you childish.” You apologize, tipping your head back to meet his gaze.

“I mean you were right. I was being a dick.”

“But I wasn’t in any shape to call you out when I was doing the same thing.”

“The same…” Dokyeom echoes, confused.

“If we weren’t so dumb we could have been dating for weeks by now.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” You smile.

“We really are dumb.”

Pure unadulterated joy takes flight on his face. Dokyeom cups your face in his hands, forehead meeting your own as you smile at him, his own dazzling in return.

“Yeah, but at least we have each other.”

The bark of awkward laughter and shaky words are unstoppable as you cower in his arms. 

“So you’re okay with me calling you my girlfriend?”

“You can call me whatever you want.” You sigh, biting your lip at the idea.

“Even my shmoopie poopie?”

Nose scrunching as you laugh at his ridiculousness, you shake your head vigorously in objection. “You can call me whatever you want besides that.”

“Baby cakes?” He asks, peppering a kiss on your cheek.

“No!”

“Honeybuns?” 

Another kiss on the tip of your nose.

“No.”

“What about–”

A firm press to his mouth silences Dokyeom as you hum.

— 

Soonyoung returns to his apartment after another failed date, eager to shoot the shit with his roommate over a few beers and some video games. But when he opens the door to his home, he finds a trail of clothes flung haphazardly across the furniture, leading straight to said roommate's room. 

No fucking way. Soonyoung thinks. 

Then he hears a thud from behind the door, followed by a familiar laugh he hasn’t heard in the apartment in well over two weeks.

No FUCKING way! He huffs, reaching for his phone.

—

Down the street, Seungkwan smirks as the expected ding of a new Venmo notification shrills through the silence of your dorm:

“Kwon Soonyoung paid you $50.00. – HOW DID YOU KNOW? – Your Venmo balance is now $135.00.”

Epilogue:

Finals season rushes forward rapidly. Two days before you’re set to fly back home for winter break, Chem grades are released.

Another pair of matching As to be celebrated in typical fashion but this time you’re Dokyeom’s girlfriend and he’s sweating like it’s his first time all over again. The night you both confessed had been you last night together. Dokyeom insisted you take things slow, his fear of messing up again forcing him to take caution. 

It's sweet. How he wants to take you out, wine and dine you as if a certain video didn’t still exist on both your phones. And you’d enjoyed the full experience too; walks around campus with interlaced fingers, shy glances in class, and girlish giggles as he offered his jacket on a cold night. The innocent good night kisses dropped on your lips in front of your door that have Dokyeom insisting “just one more” for an hour before he finally lets you slip inside your room.

It’d been everything you dreamed of and more.

But you're both tired of make outs that lead nowhere. Of sitting in Dokyeom’s lap at parties and not letting your hands wonder like you’re both dying too. Waking up in his bed and pretending you don’t feel him nudging the curve of your ass as before he hides in the bathroom to take care of his boner; leaving you to stare at the ceiling, fighting the urge to follow him into the shower and lend a helping hand.

Tonight, you’ve reached the boiling point and it’s spilling over.

“‘s okay?” He asks into the curve of your neck, palms gliding up your stomach underneath the soft cream sweater you’d worn to dinner.

Humming as your head lulls against the interior of his front door, the warmth of his mouth and hands making your brain fuzzy. Tonight, everything feels like more. Your nipples peak at the smallest brush of his tongue, back bowing under the swipes of his thumb against your ribs; even when he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your intertwined fingers on the walk to his apartment ripped the air from your lungs.

Dokyeom feels the nerves of that first night, but you’re acting like the desperate virgin he’d been. Drooling to touch and be touched. For your boyfriend to string you out one last time before you both return home for a few weeks of winter break only to pick right back up in the new year.

Snaking a hand down his front, you palm the half hard length with a firm pressure that pulls his hips forward like a magnet. A strained grunts sings in your ear as Dokyeom rocks firmly in your grip, pressing you into the wall under his torturous grind.

Turning to nudge your nose into his cheek softly, hot kisses dropping across his jaw as you bid him to take off his pants; pushing them down clumsily. You don’t bother with the brass button or rough zipper, blinded by desperation and simply clawing the stiff material downwards in an effort to get beneath.

You manage to trickle to your knees, slipping through Dokyeom’s hold like water. The hard floor biting into your skin as you kneel before him to mouth at the thin fabric of his boxer. Dokyeom’s elbows land against the wall, caging you in as he watches from above; entranced by the shallow dip of your lips over the covered head of his cock and the lash of your tongue where you taste him through the fabric.

Tonight isn’t the night for teasing, so you have his boxers landing atop his jeans around his ankles in a blink. Tongue following the vein bulging on the underside of his cock as your hand returns to allow your thumb to dig into his slit.

Dokyeom whimpers a pathetic “fuck,” as you play with him, eagerly lapping up his shaft before sucking him into your mouth; hand dropping to cup his balls, the other rest on his stomach to hold his own shirt out of the way.

You missed how responsive he is to your touch, melting in the palm of your hand as he chases the warmth of your mouth with his hips. Anyone who walks by the door would undoubtedly hear what’s happening on the other side, the choked whimpers from you and guttural moans from Dokyeom combining into a lewd symphony.

Head hitting the wall behind you with a dull thud, you let Dokyeom take over; humming as each press forward leaves the taste of his cock on your tongue. There’s something degrading in letting him fuck your mouth like this, sandwiched between his hips and the wall as he uses you to get off.

You gasp for breath when he pulls away, tongue sticking out to bid him back but his slender fingers cupping your chin distract you straight into his lips.

Pulling you to your feet, Dokyeom dips his tongue between your lips as he leads you blindly to the couch. His mouth is nothing but taking; stealing your breath away, your sanity. Things you’d happily let him have if it meant he wouldn’t stop. But Dokyeom was a giver too. A slide of his tongue lit a fire under your skin, fanning the desperation bordering on depravity. 

“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding your aching cunt against his thigh. 

Dokyeom responds by pressing into you harder, teeth tearing into your bottom lip as his cock drools against your thigh, staining your jeans.

You're so turned on it hurts, pussy painfully empty and panties drenched from heavy petting. If Dokyeom doesn’t do something soon, you have half a mind to get yourself off without him.

Dokyeom is trying, fighting to not to blow his load on your leg as you whine and arch beneath him. For him. But when you manage to close your fist around his length, giving a firm tug with the twist around the head you know he goes crazy for, it’s all over. Dokyeom’s core tightens as he spills on your sweater, streaks of his cum ruining the fabric as he pants into your mouth. Your tight grip doesn’t falter as you work him through it, teeth bruising his jaw as he paints you with his seed.

When Dokyeom gains sentience again, he winces in shame.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t— I wouldn’t,” he tries to apologize, but stops when you part your lips to lap at your stained fingers; eyes trained on the pink of your tongue dipping out to swipe against the tips for taste.

Mouth wide as he stares, Dokyeom thinks he might come again without any help as you suck your fingers. His own dip into the pool of cum dimpling across your stomach, lifting to your mouth to replace yours. Dokyeom groans as your eyes never leave his, heated and heavy lidded as lick them clean and swallow his cum.

Dropping his hand to the back of your neck, he angles your head so his tongue can delve into your mouth. It’s messy and disgusting but you like it and that’s all Dokyeom cares about as he works to free you both of your clothes. He’s stark naked easily, shirt gone over the back of the couch in no time. But your clothes require more focus than either of you are capable of when Dokyeom is on top of you.

His feet hit the ground before he rises to stand, dragging you up to roughly undress you. You don’t seem to mind if the way you fist your jeans down is an inclination. Outer layers gone, Dokyeom finally gets a peek at the early Christmas present you’d been hoping to surprise him with.

Lacy maroon panties and a match bra hug your figure, accentuating your shape in the most mouthwater ways. Eyebrows raised to his hairline, Dokyeom heaves at the masterpiece you present him with.

Drops of your flesh peek through the holes in the lace, teasing him with what’s underneath. The high cut sides of your thong dig into your hips, making your legs look impossibly long and highlighting the sway of your thighs. Straining to pull his eyes up further, Dokyeom finds the bottom hem of your bra. Tongue rolling out of his mouth as the cups push your breasts up and together, teasing Dokyeom with ideas of fucking his cock between them as you lick at the tip.

You look like a goddess and Dokyeom is happy to get on his knees to worship every inch.

Dokyeom catches you smirking at his obvious reaction when he finally looks at your face. Stepping into his space, your fingers find purchase in the short hairs at the base of his head. A cold sweat breaks on his brow as you smile like the cat who got the canary.

“Do you like my outfit, Kyeomie?” You ask, tone deceptively sweet.

If he was capable of any thought beyond cataloging the swaths of naked skin and curves, maybe he’d answer more eloquently than grunting like a caveman.

“I picked it for you.”

Dokyeom lets his hands find your hips, squeezing the plush flesh in his palms as you continue to toy with him. His fingers pluck the thin elastic while his mind wanders down the extensive list of things he’s dying to do to you.

“Do you wanna see the whole thing?”

“There’s more?”

Falling to the floor, you dig into the pocket of your jeans for whatever the last piece of your outfit, if you could call it that. Rising again you present him with a thin piece of ribbon and a silver chain, both causing Dokyeom’s face to twist in confusion.

You prompt him to take the scarlet ribbon, a perfect match to the set you’ve donned, allowing Dokyeom to spot the clasp at the ends and the small silver charm dangling in the middle.

A sun is embossed on the front of the circular piece of silver. And engraved on the back is his name.

Having his name around your throat while he fucked you isn’t a kink he knew existed. But now Dokyeom is pretty sure he’ll be haunted by the idea for the rest of his life. The silver chain still in your hands has a similar charm but with a moon. Dokyeom’s vision goes fuzzy and his brain clouds at the assumption your name is on the back to match.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask innocently, turn around so Dokyeom can slip what he can only describe as a mock collar around your neck.

Dokyeom latches the clasp with shaky hands, the strip of silk pulled taunt around your neck with each breath. When you face him once again, the charm sits in the hollow of your throat, silver winking at him seductively. 

The icy metal of the chain bites into his skin erotically as you raise to clasp it around his neck. Your nose nudges against his jaw, a ghosting open mouth kiss landing on his jugular as the charm teases the muscles of his chest where it dangles.

You land on the couch with a squeak, taken aback by Dokyeom shredding the delicate fabric of your panties with clumsy hands as he struggles to get them off you. Bullying his way between your legs, he apologizes with a heavenly strip of his tongue through your slit.

He eats you like a man starved, nails leaving crescents in the tops of your thighs as he spreads you so wide the muscles in your hips scream in objection. Dokyeom’s tongue dips into your hole, collecting your essence on his tongue before spitting it back on your clit and digging in. The swollen nub slips against the flat of his wet muscle, and when his lips gently close around it he sucks just the way you taught him to you he’s rewarded with a wanton sob.

Whines fly from between your lips at the torturous pleasure, thrashing as Dokyeom uses all his strength to pin you and place. Spots dance along your vision, expanding as two fingers push past your folds to stretch you out. Dokyeom knows your pussy like the back of his hand and he stuffs you just right with his fingers.

All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hold on tightly as you fly over the edge. Racing forward under the heat of Dokyeom’s mouth and harsh thrusts of his fingers till you weep pitifully. You’re floating through space under his attention; mouth open over silent begs not to stop, eyes clenched shut. Every beat of your frantic heart carries satisfaction through tense muscles till you are pliant and boneless.

“Too much,” you whimper, thighs forcing close around his head.

Dokyeom takes it in stride. The combination of your essence and his saliva soaking chin, leaving a damp trail across your body as he kisses his way to your mouth.

His thumb finds the ribbon taunt around your throat, focusing on the piece of metal resting against your skin as you taste yourself on his tongue.

Panting into his mouth, you mewl something vaguely sounding like “want you.”

Luckily, Dokyeom is more than happy to give you whatever you want.

Nodding like a bobble head, he pulls you down into his lap as he kneels on the floor. The head of his cock proddes against your entrance, slipping in just enough for you to take the rest with ease.

The stretch is nothing short of bliss; so deep you can taste him in the back of your throat. Dokyeom fills you perfectly, the small nip of pain from not taking him in the past month only multiplying the satisfaction you feel at finally having him inside you again.

With herculean effort, you rise to allow only a few inches to exit before dropping back down. Hands searching for leverage, you balance on the cushions behind you as you grind into his lap.

Dokyeom doesn’t know where to look, overwhelmed by his options; your face twisted around gasping breaths; or your chest, still clad in your bra, tits bouncing with each movement; or where his cock disappears inside you. 

But the silver heart around your throat seems to snag his focus easily.

Dokyeom isn’t possessive but the way it not so subtly declares you as his makes his cock throb. He’s the only one that gets to have you like this, and you him. The twin pendants remind him you’re his girlfriend and everything beyond slips away as he watches it jerk around with every movement.

Before long, your legs burn from effort, ruining your already unstable motions into nothing more than stuttered ruts. Dokyeom’s hands palming your ass assist in lifting you to the couch, limbs awkwardly sprawled off the edges but he doesn’t slow while your nails scratch deep lines into his shoulders.

“Oh, don’t stop! Fuck, please don’t stop.” You beg, head thrown back into the cushions.

Stopping sounds like the worst idea he’s ever heard. Dokyeom needs this. Gloved snuggly in your heat after so long is the only cure for the constant plague of memories of pestering him day and night. He knows they won’t go away but at least he won’t feel like ripping his skin off every time you're within a fifteen foot radius.

The wet clap of your bodies grows to a crescendo, your orgasm on the horizon and tightening your muscles into a deathgrip on his length. Spots float in Dokyeom’s vision at the squeeze and he drops his mouth to yours to lap up all your high pitched whines.

When he rises again to gasp against his own pleasure, the chain you gifted him dangles right above your lips and a nuclear bomb detonates.

You cum again with Dokyeom’s thumb under the ribbon encircling your neck, a tease of choked breath as he rubs the charm like a lifeline. Voice cracking, earth shatter, mind numb pleasure from the tip of your nose to your pinky toe. 

Dokyeom is babbling over you. Rhythm abandoned as he subjected to the tight squeeze of your worn cunt until that punch to his gut hits. Each rope of cum makes his cock throb as he plows you with a deep thrust, stilling to empty himself inside you.

You're fully crushed into the itchy upholstery as his arms buckle.

“Wow,” you gasp, catching your breath.

What else can you say? A month of no touching culminating into the best sex of your life with your devastating boyfriend while he wears a chain with your name on it.

Dokyeom cackles into your collarbone, chest tickling against yours until he leans back to look at you. 

His hair resembles an electrocuted poodle, his lips are red and swollen, and sweat glosses his skin in the low light. But Dokyeom is glowing with life and happiness and all the things that make the world good.

“I love you.”

Dokyeom responds with a girlish shriek at your impromptu confession. 

“Damn, okay.” You laugh, staring at his bare ass as he runs a lap around the living room stark naked.

“You can’t just— I wanted to say it first!” He pouts before flopping down on top of you.

“Are you serious?” Breathless from his weight, you fail to push him off you as he flails like a fish. “Is that what you’re focusing on?” 

“Yes,” Dokyeom grouches into your cheek. “You’re the first girl I’ve felt this way about and I wanted to…”

He trails off, suddenly embarrassed. Your entire relationship was many of Dokyeom’s firsts. The first person he had sex with, first college girlfriend he told his mom and sister about, and now the first girl to make him truly understand loving another person. It wasn’t something you held over his head, and some of it he didn’t even tell you about but it all tallies up in his mind how unprepared he is for it all. 

“Minnie, look at me.”

You don’t speak again until he finally meets your gaze. 

“I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” You sigh.

Dokyeom doesn’t catch hint, “We were talking about–”

“Nope, can’t seem to recall.” 

Finally, he catches the playful pout and the way your eyes cut back his as you look around the room feigning ignorance. And because he’s Dokyeom and you’re a sucker for anything he does, you can’t stop the smile mirroring his own when softly traces the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[miloformula123fan]

Full fic??

I’ve read that Logan S. felt really lonely being the only American in F1. Like, he wasn’t completely accepted in the grid. Maybe he has an overprotective older sister who is a professional soccer player (like World Cup level good) who finally has time to attend his races. She dislikes most of the grid, except Alex and Oscar, for how they treated her brother. quick to defend Logan and even as far as annihilate them during the annual driver soccer match to prove a point. Im thinking G. Russel pairing due to Logan living in England. he wins her over by treating logan right, acknowledging he could have been welcoming, etc. Just a thought!

OKAY I HONESTLY LOVED THIS! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE (let me know if you want a part 2, because it is a bit of an interesting ending haha)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

edit: i wrote part 2 - it is here

part 3 is here

George Russell x reader, logan sargeant x sister!reader

---

Y/N loves her brother, she really does. Yeah, she’s tried to get to a few of his F2 rounds, but with her soccer taking her around the world, she has had very little time. She has the entire month off though, so what better to do than visit her brother at his home grand prix. Miami is always a party, so maybe she could let loose for a bit, try and relax, and find a guy.

This is quickly vetoed when she finds Logan cooped up in his drivers room. While most people would think that he was excited for the race, most people weren’t Logan’s sister. She could tell he was thinking too hard about something, and it wasn’t good.

“Hey Logie Bear! Whatcha thinking about?” She tried to appear happy, but she could see that Logan’s smile did not reach his eyes

“Nothing, just excited for the race, the car is quick, just aiming for some points, hoping for a safety car. The garage is over there, sorry I have to warm up.” Y/N looked up as Benny entered the room and Logan stood up. She could tell how closed up he was, how he didn’t want to talk at all

“Okay, we’ll talk after the race Logan! Good luck, you'll smash it!” Y/N walked out of the drivers room towards the garage seeing the chaos of it.

Y/N watched as Logan apologised over again and again to his engineer for not making up any more places. She stood there listening to his engineer reassure her younger brother. She eventually decided that she couldn’t listen to it anymore and decided to wait in his garage room.

When he walked in, Y/N could tell he wasn’t sure whether to throw stuff or cry. 

“Hey, hey, come here! It’s okay, it’s okay!” She opened her arms and sat down as Logan fell down into them and hugged her baby brother, as he started talking the words just rushed out

“I just wanted to prove that I deserve to be here, feel like I’m a part of the paddock.” Logan hugged his sister back tightly, hesitating slightly.

“What do you mean? Of course you’re a part of the paddock, you’ve got your seat, y’know?” Y/N was confused as to what her brother meant, from what she had seen, he was welcomed warmly by everyone.

“Yeah but, I’m never invited to the grid parties, no one really ever talks to me, except Alex and Oscar, and Oscar is getting into the rest of the grid through Lando, and Alex is only really talking to me because I mean, he’s my teammate we have to be friends, and I just want everyone to like me… so I thought maybe if I got some points and good overtakes, then people would like me..”

“Oh, Logie… It’ll be okay. If they don’t like you then I think they’re just idiots, but they won’t. They’ll warm up to you, I promise.”

---

George watched as Y/N sprinted up and down. Okay the F1 team was never going to win, particularly when multiple women who were playing in the world cup were playing on the opposition team, but ‘Sargeant’  (who also had the same name as the rookie driver this year, who was sitting in the stands) was dominating, she had more goals then all of the f1 team, so of course the celebrity team won 4-1. She’d almost immediately jumped into the stands once the referee blew the whistle and started talking to Logan, maybe the kid got married young and just didn’t want anyone to realise. 

Although she looked quite similar to Logan, so maybe his sister instead. Either way, she did not seem to like them, she called them all dickheads and shoved them over a few times. George’s knees were sore. But she was still pretty. So he approached Logan and the girl.

“Hello! I’m George and…’

“I’m pretty sure my brother knows your name, Georgie! Why don’t you say hello to him?”

“Y/N-”

“No. Say hi to Logan, George.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, almost forced.

“Hey Logan! Looking forward to the grand prix this weekend?”

“Uhhhh… yeah. ” He turned back to Y/N “I’ve got some stuff to do, so you can make your way back. See ya!”

As soon as Logan was out of listening range, Y/N pulled George in and started whispering, “Listen, I don’t know what problem you have my brother, but you need to get over it ASAP, understood?”

“I.. don’t have a problem with your brother.”

“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”

George stood there, mouth gaping as she stormed off to grab her bag and then sprinted after Logan. He could almost hear the f1 team laughing at his failed attempt at flirting, but all he could think about ‘was what she said true?’’

---

Y/N was going to cry.

She could see Logan in the family and friends box, hands over his mouth, eyes glassy.

That corner kick should’ve gone in, she thought, we had so many chances and we still fucked it all. Couldn’t even give Megs a proper farewell.

She walks slowly over to her younger brother and let his arms wrap around her

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dragged you halfway ‘round the world when you should’ve been training only to lose the first game.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Go pack up, we can head home and spend some time in London relaxing. I’ve got next week off before I need to be back in the factory.”

—

Y/N was awoken by a knock on the front door. Hearing Logan snoring from his bedroom, she got up off the couch, rubbing her eyes and opened the door.

Of all the people she was expecting to see, George Russell would’ve been just about the last on her list “Uhh, hey?”

“Oh, morning! Is your brother up?”

Y/n paused for a moment to let George hear the snores coming from Logan’s bedroom. “Yeah, no, sorry. I can pass on a message?”

“Oh, No I was just going to offer if he was still up to go on a morning jog with him, but as he isn’t…”

“You been doing this often?”

“Almost every week we’ve been in town. I don’t think he understands what or why I’m doing this. But, he’s a good kid, opens up a bit when you talk to him. He likes you, respects you a lot for 2 siblings pursuing their sport across the globe.”

“I’ll make some breakfast and you can stay til Logan wakes up, okay? As a thanks for looking out for him. Hard for me to do from across the globe.” Y/N looked tense, with an almost forced smile. She looked awkward, before stepping back, holding the door open so George could come in.

---

“LOGAN SARGEANT!”

“Hello, dear sister, what do you want?”

“YOU GOT POINTS!”

“I think you must have watched a different grand prix, I got P12.”

“Hamilton and Leclerc got disqualified, something about wood, but you got points!”

“OH MY! AHHH! I had no idea, oh god!”

“YEAH! MY LITTLE BRO FINALLY GETTING F1 POINTS! WOOHOO! We must celebrate when we’re both in town!”

“AHH! Shit, wait I think people are coming in, give me a sec.

You’re on speaker dear sis, Alex, Oscar and George are here.”

“HELLO OSCAR! HI ALEX! HI GEORGE! DID SOMEONE BRING CHAMPAGNE???”

---

Y/N looks at the buzzing phone on her bedside table. Well clearly she had grabbed Logan’s phone before bed last night. She looked at the contact name

‘George - probably calling about something from the GDPA.’

She picked up.

“Before you start talking, I’m not Logan and I have not signed any NDAs related to his contract so, don’t talk to me.”

“Hi Y/N, do you know where Logan is?” George’s voice was way too cheery for however fucking early it is right now.

“Yeah he’s in his bedroom, he grabbed my phone and I grabbed his, why?” Y/N swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, still rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, can you come answer the door?”

“The door, why?” Y/N got up, and walked to her front door and opened the door to …nothing.

“George, are you pulling a prank on me? There’s nothing at the door.”

“You haven’t opened the door!”

“George… Logan and I are in Florida for Christmas. I’m guessing you’re in London.”

“Oh…yes. Bugger. I came to congratulate him on his contract renewal and so now I’ve got food and flowers and stuff and he’s not here!”

“If you go round the block to 20 XXX Close, there’s a single mom there, who will appreciate some Christmas cheer Georgie.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll send it over.”

“Why were you congratulating Logan, George? I didn’t think you cared. Only Alex and Oscar have reached out so far.”

“I..I remember what you said at the soccer match, about Logan feeling ostracised by all of us. So I’ve been trying to make him feel welcomed… not just because you said that, and I like you, but also because I kinda realised we’d all be failing him as a grid, so i thought if I started it, maybe others would catch on. It didn’t work, but I think he feels more included.”

“That’s very nice of you Georgie. I’ll pass on your congrats. Now it’s like 7am here, and I didn’t need to be awake today, so i will be heading back to bed. Night Georgie boy.”

[seoktized]

too far? (s.mt)

pairing: matthew x fem!reader

warnings: smut. somewhat mean dom!matthew, oral (m. receiving), matthew calls reader a slut, unprotected sex, creampie. lmk if i forgot any.

word count: 1.6k (kinda edited sorry for any errors)

a/n: finally done w/ this after putting it off for a month!! hope you all enjoy <3 also thank you to my baby @taeraelicious for inspiring me to finish this 😚

yes, you loved when matthew got jealous because that meant you’d get the best sex of your life.

but maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to tease matthew all night, wearing a short skirt that basically flashed everyone if you bent over, being overly touchy with his best friends or even worse; perching yourself on jiwoong’s lap.

he was furious, but he kept his jealousy hidden because he knew you were doing this on purpose. he knew you loved getting him all worked up in order to bask in the way he’d fuck you later on.

matthew tried to stay calm, but what sent him over the edge was how you had now leaned back against jiwoong’s chest, his hands finding place on your thighs, even going as far as caressing them.

matthew immediately stood up, apologizing to the boys, saying the two of you had to go. he pulled you off jiwoong’s lap, his grip was tighter than normal signaling that your plan had worked.

the drive home was silent, both of his hands were on the steering wheel gripping it tightly. usually he’d have his hand on your thigh or draped across the center console.

did you go too far this time?

he only spoke as he put the car in park, “you’re brave,” he paused for a second, “i want you to listen to me and listen to me carefully because i am not in the mood for your games,” he said turning his head in your direction.

his hand went up to pinch your chin between his fingers, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“if i come inside and you’re not on the bed ready for me, i’ll go to bed and leave you untouched.” his tone was serious, causing shivers to run down your spine.

his hand dropped from your face and he was now facing forward and you took that as a sign to exit the car.

making your way to the door, you felt a little bad for pushing matthew this far, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit excited for the events that would follow.

you unlocked the door and stepped inside, taking off your shoes before walking up the stairs to yours and matthew’s bedroom.

you slipped off your top and your skirt, leaving yourself in the lingerie set you had picked out earlier which happened to be matthew’s favorite set.

hearing your phone buzz on the dresser you walked over to check who it was.

matty <3: you ready?

im coming in.

*one video attached*

your pressed your thighs together as you watched what he sent, it was a video of him palming himself over his jeans.

you heard the front door open and your placed your phone back on the dresser before scrambling back over to the bed, sitting with your legs tucked underneath your thighs.

the bedroom door opened to reveal matthew who had rid himself of his jacket leaving him in a compression shirt that hugged his muscles in the right spots.

matthew smiled a bit, seeing your eyes trail down his arms. he made his way over to the bed before reaching out to stroke your cheek.

“good girl,” he started, his hand suddenly went down to grip your jaw, bringing his face closer to yours.

“too bad you wanna act like a slut when we’re out.” he released your jaw before standing up to pull his shirt off.

though you’ve seen his bare chest many times, he never failed to take your breath away. you reached out to run your hand down his chest but your hand was swatted away.

matthew made a noise of disapproval, “you don’t get to touch me tonight, princess.” he then slipped his jeans off and your eyes immediately went to the bulge in his boxers.

“off the bed,” he ordered, he waited for you to climb off before he continued; “get on your knees.”

you obeyed and sunk down, now being face-to-face with the tent in his boxers.

matthew’s hand laced itself in your hair, pushing your face against his clothed bulge. he continued to rub himself across your face, groaning at the feeling.

“stick your tongue out,” he rasped, smirking when you obeyed.

he placed himself on your tongue, rocking back and forth. the friction from both his boxers and your tongue made him throw his head back with a grunt.

you let one of your hands drop between your legs, rubbing yourself over your panties.

matthew looked divine at this angle, his abs flexing everytime he moved his hips, his bottom lip finding place in between his teeth.

his eyes were now back on you, “move your fuckin’ hand.” he said through gritted teeth.

matthew felt himself growing closer to his peak so he pulled away, leaving you a bit confused.

“don’t wanna come yet.” he simply said.

matthew paused for a minute, his eyes trailing down your awaiting form.

“c’mere.” he said, pulling you to stand up. he sat himself down on the end of the bed, “sit right there on your knees.” he pointed to the floor.

you were a bit worried about what matthew had up his sleeve, but you obliged, sitting down in front of him.

“i don’t think you deserve my cock yet.” his thumbs hooked under the waist band of his boxers, lifting his hips up to push them down to his ankles.

you watched as his cock sprang out, hitting his stomach in the process.

he wrapped a hand around his length, stroking it slowly. matthew winced at the feeling, his hand gripped tighter, now fucking his hand at a slow pace.

you watched intensely wanting nothing more than to reach out and take him in your mouth.

matthew knew what you were thinking. he smirked watching how you ran your tongue across your bottom lip.

“pretty girl wants to touch, hm?” he waited for your response, smiling at how you nodded so eagerly.

“too bad, sluts don’t get what they want.” he spat. you felt tears start to well up in your eyes, wishing you didn’t tease him earlier.

matthew watched your facial expressions carefully. his eyes locked on the tears falling from your eyes, mentally noting that you looked so pretty like this, eyes red and wide, not wanting to miss any movement he made.

his groans rang through your ears, traveling straight to your core. you whined out hoping matthew would let you off the hook this time.

“do you think you deserve to be pleasured, doll?” he tilted his head to the side.

you nodded, “please matty, ‘m sorry for teasing you.”

a wicked smile grew across matthew’s face, “go ahead,”

once he gave you the green light, you pounced on his cock, taking him in your mouth. your tongue slid across the underside of his length. matthew groaned, his hand finding place on your head once again.

“fuck baby- slow down,” he moaned. you didn’t let up though, he’d teased you enough and you weren’t gonna stop now that you got what you wanted.

matthew knew he was going to come soon if you kept sucking him oh so good, so he pulled himself out of your mouth.

“c’mon doll. up on the bed,” he said, you arose from your knees and matthew moved out of the way so you could climb on the bed.

you crawled onto the mattress, pushing your ass out in the air and wiggling it in matthew’s direction. you heard a faint chuckle from behind before there was a dip in the mattress.

matthew ran his hand over the lacy panties you had on before running it down your back, pushing you to arch further.

he stroked himself a few times before running his tip over your clothed heat. he took his time, dragging himself at a slow pace.

“you’re soaking, baby..” he groaned. you whined in response, pushing your ass further in his direction.

“patience, doll, patience. you better be glad i’ve even gotten this far,” he snipped, “thought about leavin’ you like this, guess i still can, hm?”

“please don’t! ‘m sorry” you whimpered, matthew laughed at your desperation.

he pushed your underwear to the side, bending down to get a look at your glistening cunt. matthew groaned at the sight.

“prep or no?” he mumbled.

“just fuck me, matt!” you replied. he obliged and ran his cock over your wetness before pushing into your cunt.

you both moaned in unison at the feeling. matthew paused, relishing in the feeling of your pussy gripping him so tightly.

he bit his lip before sliding out then thrusting in harshly. you lurched forward, a broken moan leaving your lips. matthew gripped your hips, sliding his cock in and out at a ruthless pace.

the force of his thrusts made him hit that spot over and over again, making you scream his name.

“scream my name again—fuck—let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.” he said through gritted teeth.

“you are, matt!” you cry, his deep thrusts made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“jiwoong couldn’t fuck you this good, huh? only i can right?” he chuckled, “you should’ve saw the way he was lookin’ at you. made me wanna bend you over the table and take you right there.”

“he can’t! only you—shit—only you can fuck me this good!” your hands that were flat on the bed were now gripping the sheets and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you came.

“so fuckin’ tight ‘m gonna cum!” matthew growled before he stilled, shooting his load deep into your pussy.

the room was filled with panting, both of you trying to catch your breath.

matthew pulled out, watching as your mixed juices leaked out of your hole.

you whined in overstimulation before letting your eyes flutter shut.

“let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” he said before picking you up and carrying you to your shared bathroom.

it definitely was a good idea to tease matthew all night long.

[em-harlsnow]

the ages of shameless characters does nothing but drive me crazy, so I'm activating some detective skills to figure them out throughout the seasons. also - im ignoring the years or times that the seasons came out, just going by what the show says.

First off: Mickey - bday is 10 August 1994

Season 1: 16, because...

he's not in it much, he doesn't speak much, but we know two things - he's a teenager and he's under 18 since he goes to juvie. He's in juvie for some part of three seasons, so I think it's safe to put him at 16.

Season 2: 16 for a bit, then 17, because....

it's now summer, and Mickey comes out of juvie. I think he turns 17 that summer, because when he goes back in, people are wearing coats more so I assume it's getting colder, so it's past august.

Season 3: 17 for half, 18 for the other half, because...

it's summer at the start, so Mickey's been in juvie for like 6/7 months. he's still 17, because he didn't go to prison at any point. by the time he marries Svetlana, I think he's 18. I don't know how old you have to be to get married in Illinois, but I'll say 18 because American laws confuse me more than anything else. either way, again, people are wearing warmer clothes around the time he marries her, so he must be 18.

Season 4: 18, because...

it's winter, the whole way through. There's no way it's the next year, since Ian is still underage according to Mickey (altho there's a possibility he meant under the drinking age of 21, but I don't think so). So Ian's been gone for a few months, maybe like 5 since it could be Jan/Feb and he must have left Autumn time. Therefore, Mickey's 18. The whole time. Summer hasn't come, so his birthday hasn't passed.

Season 5: 19, because....

it's summer for the first part. Late summer, since the last half is in wintery time based on everyone's coats. We can assume that Mickey has his birthday either between season 4 and 5 or right at the beginning of season 5. So maybe he's 18 for like 5 seconds. But for the majority and the end, he must be 19.

Season 6: 19/20, because...

he's only in it for one scene (diabolical). I can't tell what the season is really, because there aren't many coats being worn at the start, and then loads at the end. It seems unreasonable that a whole spring and summer have been skipped, doesn't it? although, maybe it's possible. There are also some days when it seems really hot and some where it looks cold, so I have no idea. I don't know what the weather's like in Chicago, sorry. So he's either 19 or 20 when we see him. Most likely 20. Either way, he went into prison when he was 19, unless the trial was really long and lasted from winter to august, which I doubt.

Season 7: 21 (when he appears), because...

we have two episodes (again, very sad). it starts in the summer based on the t-shirts without jackets everyone wears. by the time ep 10 and 11 hit, it's colder. it's hard to tell at the end, since they're at the border or approaching the border and the further south you go the hotter it gets, and it's very sunny when mickey goes across. If season 6 really is that winter and they skipped the summer (which now makes more sense), it's the following summer, going into autumn. so, august has probably passed by the time we see mickey. so he's 21 now.

Season 8: 21, 22 by the end (even tho we don't see him), because...

no mickey (rude). we can still assume his age based on the seasons and other characters. it's summer again! I'm guessing it's the year after?? since it looked like season 7 was approaching autumn? that also means Ian and Trevor were dating for around a year, and I didn't realise it was so long to be honest. anyway, if it's summer again, at some point throughout mickey turns 22 (alone, in Mexico).

Season 9: 23, because...

one scene with mickey! it's still summer, the same summer as before I think, because there's no way the Gay Jesus thing lasted a full year. it looks like it's a direct continuation from season 8. by the last ep, Ian is wearing a hat and an undershirt under the prison uniform, so it's autumn-y time. so, mickey's either already 23 when we see him, or about to turn 23. by the end, he's definitely 23.

Season 10: 23 at the start, 24 by the end, because...

it's summer when Ian comes out of prison. I'd put it at early summer, since Ian says it's been less than a year of being in prison. so at the start, mickey's still 23. by the wedding, it's 'supposed to snow', so I guess it's full on winter. so august is passed, mickey is 24, and finally had his bday when he's with Ian.

Season 11: 24 at the start, 25 at the end, because...

summer again at the start based on all the t-shirts. early summer, because by ep 10, mickey goes swimming or does something in the pool, because I'm not convinced he can swim, which you aren't gonna do in the autumn/winter, right? by the last ep, there are more coats, and it's their anniversary so it's 'supposed to snow', so it must be winter time. so he's 24 at the start, 25 at the end.

In conclusion, Mickey is way younger than he seems (im not talking about Noel, he looks the age he's meant to be, he just seems older). Also, Gallavich has been together for 9 years.

Let me know if you disagree with any of this, I think I'll do Ian next! I don't know if this was obvious to everyone else and I'm just slow, but this is gonna help me loads when I'm figuring out weather seasons and ages for fics lol.

Shameless needs to deal with its shitty timelines. It was much better at consistency in the earlier seasons.

[marshedmallowes]

Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

[dirtypr0mises]

I MISS YOU , IM SORRY ⋆ — b. eilish

in which; — you were tired of the confusing situation you and billie were in , i mean come on , you and billie would sometimes flirt , sometimes be bestfriends , sometimes hate eachother & make eachother jealous , some messy make out sessions , late night fun , only texting you after 11 some days and one or two drunken confessions . so you decided to walk out of this toxic , pointless.. you don’t even know what to call it . but billie wanted to show you what you really meant to her , i mean actions speak louder than words , right ?

billie eilish x fem!reader

cw: mean billie , makeout sesh , mentions of drinking , mentions of sexual intercourse , two women loving eachother (scaring the homophobes away)

yapyap: this is my first time writing on tumblr bare w me plsss

you and billie were right in the middle of kissing, and your shirt was almost off. a call brightened the screen of billies phone which caused the both of you to look down, ‘madeline’s name ran across the screen, the name of her previous situationship, who’d been brought up every now and then. billie hurriedly, but softly pushed you away, grabbing the phone and answering, standing up.

���hey, mads” she said, making your eyes jolt up to hers. mads was a nickname she only ever used when her and madeline were talking again. weird.

“oh really? mm i’ll be there soon” she smiled and hung up the phone, leaving her confused. “gotta run, i have something to take care of” she said, barely making eye contact. you didn’t see the smirk on her face when she turned around and left, not even putting her shoes on, but you knew she had smirked.

you made sure that as soon as she got back, you were on your way out. and so you did, you had everything in your hand, and the hello kitty key she had made for you was on the dresser by the apartment entrance.

your heart beat was practically reaching the other side of the door as you heard the door unlock, and you had starting walking out the apartment as soon as she finished walking in

“baby, where are you headed?” she slurred, she was drunk. you could smell it. she looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, confused as if she didn’t just hook up with her ex situationship

you scoffed, shaking your head. “i don’t know, but probably far away from your place” you said, continuing to walk. she was still confused. pathetic

“but why?” she asked, grabbing your hand, in which you yanked your hand back. “you just fucked madeline and your asking me why i’m leaving? i’m done with whatever we are, billie! i’m tired of this!” you said, your eyes now glossy.

“we’re just friends, my bad if you thought anything different” she laughed a little, putting her hands up mockingly

“and that’s your problem” and with that you left

that was 3 months ago, you’d move on with your life. i mean yea you did think of her sometimes, but you were tired of whatever was going on between you two.

just then, you received a call from an unknown number, but you’d recognized the number because the last 3 digits were 222, yalls lucky number. you looked at your phone wide eyed.

you picked up, like an idiot. “hello?” you said, and then you heard the voice you dreaded hearing. “hey.”

it was a quick phone call, all she said was “please come to my apartment, maybe for like 5 minutes, that’s all i need” and all you said was “why so you can just fu- nevermind, i’m on my way” you said and hung up

and then you were on the way, hands shaking as you gripped the steering wheel, and when you looked out the passenger window, you saw her apartment. you took two deep breaths and walked into the apartment, going up to her floor, and knocking on the door.

she answered the door, you looked at her and she looked at you, your eyes met hers, you were actually looking at her. “hi, billie” you said, and she let you in

you paced around, and she just looked confused. “sit down” she said, and you sat down beside her, but there was enough room for someone to sit between yall.

“im sorry, my love. seriously so sorry. i know what i said that night was fucked up, but i seriously didn’t mean it.”

you didn’t know what to say, but then you remembered fully all that happened. “that doesn’t take back that you let her disrupt the time we were having, just so you can go touch and fuck on her.”

she nodded, fidgeting with her rings. when she fidgeted with her rings she craved to touch you. you looked down at her hand and when you looked back up, she was looking at you straight in the eyes. “please” she whispered, looking at your hands. you couldn’t help it, you slowly grabbed her hand and put it in your lap, holding it.

“i’m so sorry beautiful, we can just be friends if you want, but i feel so lost in life without you.” she spoke in a quiet, but convincing tone.

“how’d you go so long without talking to me then, why didn’t you reach out sooner?” you said, tears threatening to fall, and when one did, she reached her other hand out to wipe your tear. “because i felt like you’d been so much happier without me”

the truth was, you didn’t. you barely thought about her but when you did, she flooded your mind dangerously. you just didn’t know how quickly you could forgive her.

after a moment of silence, she spoke again. “i promise to never ever leave you, and to always treat you well, cross my heart” she said with a small smile, putting out her pinkie.

promising and crossing your heart was one thing between yall, but pinkie promises? that was the thing you two were known for.

you locked your pinkie with hers, kissing your end of the promise as she did hers. and that was the start of something beautiful.

moments later you were a lot closer. she had looked at your lips and you looked at hers, and yalls lips joined together, not in a steamy, sexual way, but in a way of understanding, and in a way that joined you two together, forever.

‘everywhere i go leads me back to you.’

[mydearlybeloathed]

Hiii! Can you do neteyam x fem!na’vi reader where they first start dating; it’s kinda awkward cuddling and kissing and it feels unnatural to the reader from not being loved on enough as a child and neteyam confronts reader saying like “do I make you feel uncomfortable?” And readers like “no im sorry I just was never showed this much affection.” And he reassures her abt, it if that makes sense!, Thank you <3

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you weren’t exactly used to the affection neteyam so easily gave you.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neteyam sully x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: mention of death, harsh parental figure

𝐚/𝐧: this was so fun to write. it kinda came out a bit more angsty than I intended. I hope its what you wanted :)

also i made up a na'vi word: Le'awtulant. its a combo of le'awtu (lonely) and lante (wander).

It hadn't been but a few months since Neteyam completed his rite of passage, going through each trial and coming out victorious. He was a man, the heir of Toruk Makto, and everyone had their eyes on him.

You'd completed your passage just before him, becoming an adult in the eyes of your clan, and quickly grew a reputation for being quite the hunter among the older Na'vi.

Despite what your guardian, Zet'ka, advised, you hadn't put any effort into searching for a mate out of the many young Na'vi in the clan. Thinking about it sent a rush of nerves into your belly. The most recent time Zet'ka brought it up, you'd gone quiet and stilled in the fixing of your bow.

"I'm just saying," she says, watching as your careful movements continued. "You are a beautiful woman, and you have a strong heart. You could have anyone you wanted if you stopped being so elusive."

You rolled your eyes, ears going flat against your head. Your tail flickered in annoyance, your hands not as gentle as before as you restrung your bow. "I have other things to focus on, Zet'ka."

"Like what?" Your ears twitched at the sternness in her voice.

Zet'ka was always firm, ever since you were a child, left with no parents after an accident in the Hallelujah Mountains. They'd happened upon an ikran nest full of eggs, and... it hadn't gone well.

A sharp tug on your braids had you recoiling from the woman. Zet'ka gripped your shoulder and put you back in place. "Still. Your hair is a mess, Y/N."

You sat and waited for her to finish, gripping your bow as every pull of her hands had you wincing. Zet'ka meant well, she always did, but she'd never smiled as far as you know, and raised you to be a warrior worthy to be counted Omatikaya.

It had been some time since you'd connected with the spirit tree, and you wondered if going back might do you some good. Maybe your parents would appear to you this time.

Zet'ka finished your braids by the time night had fallen, and the clan was beginning to tire from a day of work. The woman patted your shoulder before standing. "I raised you to be better than this. I raised you as a warrior, not Le'awtulant."

You flinched at the word, your hands tightening into uncomfortable fists. Lonely wanderer. Someone the clan doesn't know what to make of. A familiar outsider.

Zet'ka sighed. "You know I only want what's best for you, Y/N."

You stood and faced her with a rigid back, eyes and expression steady. "I know, Zet'ka."

She left you there, allowing you to relax under her scrutinizing eyes. Exhausted, you headed to your hammock high up in the trees overlooking the village. You'd made it halfway there when rain began to fall from the sky, causing your body to sag with the weight of the day.

With your ears flat and tail drooped, arms wrapped around yourself, you hurried for the first dry place you could think of: Olo'eyktan Jake.

It had been awkward, asking the chief for shelter from the rain. It was no secret you were one of the loners of the clan. So, he just nodded as he directed you to find his daughters' hut, just along the next branch of the large tree.

You gave him a grateful nod and headed over, rushing through the increasingly heavy rain. You thought you heard thunder in the distance, but it didn't really settle in. Because now you were standing in front of the entrance to the chief's daughters' hut, and you had no idea what to say.

Tuk and Kiri were nice. You often saw them around the village when you weren't out hunting with the others. Kiri hung out with the alien, the one they call Spider, an awful lot. Tuk could often be found making mischief anywhere she went.

But you'd never spoken to them before. Sure, you knew of each other, but only because you and Kiri used to play together as children, before your parents passed and before she clung to Spider like glue.

Pushing your hand against the flap of the hut, you peeked inside to find the sisters stoking the fire at the center of the circle room. Kiri's eyes darted to you the moment the flap came undone from where she'd tied it down. Her ears twitched curiously. "Y/N?"

You waved with an awkward smile. "Hi, Kiri. Uhm, Olo'eyktan told me to come here, since I usually stay in a hammock and... it's raining so..."

Tuk's face erupted into a bright smile. "Come on, come on."

Kiri pointed as you stepped inside. "And secure that flap."

You did as she directed and turned, fiddling with the beads around your neck. "I'm sorry to be intruding, I--"

"Don't worry," Kiri said, grinning just slightly. "We have room--"

All three of you jerked as thunder cracked against the sky. Your heart skipped as your eyes flickered over the ceiling, waiting. The rain only grew in power.

Kiri looked back at you, then at the roof. She waved you over as she sat down on the surplus of woven blankets she and Tuk had laid out. "Come 'ere. It's warmer near the center."

You wasted no time in making your way over, welcoming the warm feel of the flames as you accepted the blanket Tuk offered you. "Thanks."

The thunder returned, louder than before. Tuk flinched into Kiri's side.

Not even a second later, the flap reopened, this time letting in a gust of wind that nearly took out the fire. You and Kiri growled in unison as you whipped around to see two figures stumbling inside, bickering as they did.

"Neteyam!" Lo'ak hissed, trying to reach for the flap as it whipped around in the wind. "Close it! Close it!"

The elder Sully fell inside, literally, yelping as he tripped over his brother's feet. Tuk leaped up and ran to help, gripping onto the flap in seconds and having it tied back down and extra secure in seconds. No wind got inside after that.

The lot of you stayed in silence for a moment, before Kiri huffed and stood to swat at her brothers. "Idiots! Both of you!"

Lo'ak hissed when she slapped his arm, pursing his lips. Neteyam stood, his braids hanging over his face before he tossed them back. Both of them were soaking wet, getting water all over the floor. Neteyam caught your gaze, his heavy breathing calming as you darted your eyes away.

"What are you doing?" Kiri asked, incredulous, hands on her hips.

Neteyam turned away from you, straightening out his shoulders just for him to laugh bashfully under Kiri's stare. He rubbed at the back of his neck and shot Lo'ak a teasing grin. "Lo'ak--"

"We!" Lo'ak shouted pointedly. "We--"

"We," Neteyam continued, grinning. "Were scared."

Kiri rolled her eyes so far they could've disappeared into her skull. "Fine. Just don't fling water on me."

You couldn't help but snort at the exchange, hiding your smile behind your hand. Lo'ak noticed you then, tilting his head in question. "Y/N?"

Before you could even formulate a reply, Neteyam spoke up as he went to kneel by Kiri. "She sleeps out in the trees, Lo'ak. The storm forced her inside."

Your brows rose at that, tail flicking curiously. "Yeah, what he said."

The night dragged on, no one being able to sleep with the storm in full rage outside. Somehow, you'd been rearranged in your seats, so now you and Neteyam found yourselves side by side, some good space between you.

Though, every once in a while, his tail would brush yours, causing you to tense and wrap the excited appendage around yourself.

You didn't know how the conversation drifted to the subject of mates, but you wanted to change it very fast. But, unlike with Zet'ka, you weren't the one the teasing was directed at.

Lo'ak's eyes danced mischievously. "And then this real Cassanova--"

"Lo'ak."

"--he steps on her tail--"

"Lo'ak."

"--and says he's not interested." The younger Sully brother shook his head in amusement. "And Mom wonders why Neteyam hasn't landed a woman yet."

The man in question sits stiffly, his arms resting on his knees, his eyes narrowed at his brother. His tail brushes your side in its angry sweep across the floor. "Shut up."

Kiri rolls her eyes for what was probably the tenth time that night and scooted closer to the flames. "Leave him alone, Lo. He doesn't have to choose a mate if he doesn't want to."

Something about her words made you feel validated, and you found yourself speaking up for the first time. "If you're so concerned, Lo'ak, surely you've got your eye on someone, right? You've almost completed your passage."

Now with the attention thrown on him, Lo'ak didn't look so amused anymore. He grumbled something under his breath. "... No."

You tsked, dragging your gaze to meet Neteyam's next to you. "Ah, yeah. Too bad things with that one girl didn't work out."

Lo'ak's ears fell flat against his head. "You swore."

You ignored him, turning further to face Neteyam as his expression shifted from frustration to hilarity. "So I'm sitting up in my hammock, right?"

"Y/N."

"Just carving into some wood."

"Y/N."

"Hush. And I look down to see Lo'ak with the sweetest girl. Nali, I think." Kiri gasped, catching on, grinning from ear to ear. Lo'ak was burying himself in the blankets, probably hoping for suffocation. "He calls her pretty and gives her a flower, not listening to a word she tries to say, just for her intended to jump out and shove him away."

The laugh that escapes Neteyam is a hearty sound, light and easy on the ears. Tuk and Kiri laughed too, but you really only heard him. The sound made it difficult to look away from him, but you managed, if only to see the mess that was Lo'ak. From somewhere amidst his blanket tomb, he raised his middle finger.

Lifting your own three-fingered hand, you push down your first two digits and hold up the third. You stare at the gesture as Lo'ak emerges to find you squinting at your hands. "I don't understand your four-fingered gesture."

Your response only sent the other four into a fit of laughter that had you confused, but giggling along with them all the same. By morning, you were sad to see the storm fading, having had too much fun just talking with the Sully kids.

It'd been too long since you'd let yourself relax like that, you realized.

You thought that things would go back to normal, and you would stick to yourself like you always had, only talking to the others in your hunting party and Zet'ka on occasion, but you were very wrong.

Months went by where a day hadn't ended till at least one of the Sully kids had found you, wherever you were hiding that day. Sometimes it was Tuk who needed someone to force her siblings to let her tag along with them. Or Neteyam wanted to hunt with her. Other days Lo'ak invited her to explore with Kiri and Spider. Neteyam would ask to fly on the ikran together. Kiri would beg you to join in her healing lessons, hoping your presence would force away the boredom. Neteyam just wanted to talk sometimes. A lot of the time he just wanted to talk, or fly, or hunt, or just about anything of the like.

It made you blush to think about it.

The name Neteyam became as easy as breathing. You actively searched him out in a crowd, finding his eyes already having found you. You hadn't ever laughed as much as he made you laugh, smiled as much as he made you smile.

Soon enough, you couldn't deny the growing tension festering between you and the elder Sully brother. You couldn't deny it, not in your heart, but you could avoid it just fine.

That's what you were doing now as you stormed through the dense forest, paying no mind to the man trailing in your wake. Your heart beat more wildly in your chest each time he said your name.

"Y/N," he called, trying to reach for your hand. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

"Nothing!" You exasperated, finally turning and throwing your hands up. "You've done nothing."

He didn't look convinced. "Then why," he demanded, "are you actively running away from me." Your tail swished defensively at that. "All I asked was if you wanted to stay with Kiri again. Rain clouds are rolling in."

In the quiet that followed, all you could do with cross your arms and look somewhere behind him, almost haughty when you said, "You make a good point, and I'm choosing to ignore it."

Neteyam cracked a grin, taking a step closer to you. You stood and watched, your ears darting forward at the sound of a twig underfoot. "Are you upset with me?"

Though he smiled, the question in his eyes was desperate. He was desperate to fix anything he had done. It sent you into a tizzy of slight guilt and the urge to assure him he was nothing but perfect in your eyes. Your cheeks warmed at the sudden thought.

"No," you said with a sigh, your arms dropping to your sides. "I appreciate your concern, Neteyam. I think I'll see if Zet'ka will let me in. I don't want to burden your sisters--"

"You're kidding, right?" He was almost laughing at you now. "They love you. Kiri was the one who wanted me to ask, actually."

Your tail wriggled excitedly. "She did?"

He nodded, tilting his head as his braids fell over his shoulder with the movement. Then, his expression wasn't so humorous, thoughts racing behind his eyes. "Is it so hard to believe?"

You turned away from him, starting to continue your walk, pushing a large leaf out of your way. "Maybe."

In seconds he was walking at your side, his eyes on your profile. "Well, believe it. All three of them speak only highly of you."

"And you?" The words were out before you could stop them. Wincing, you made another turn, hopping over a fallen log.

His brief silence made your embarrassment worsen, but it was quickly--very quickly--replaced with a panicked jump of your heart. "A day has not ended till Lo'ak tells me to shut up about you."

Your hand froze in its path of pushing down a loose tree branch. Shaking your head, you surged on through the forest. Neteyam noticed the tension in your whole body; how your tail was alert and your back too properly straight.

Thoughts scrambled around your head up until you stopped at the bank of a river gently cutting across the forest floor. When you sensed Neteyam at your shoulder, you turned your face away from him, saying softly, "I have no one to speak to, but if I did, I'd speak only of you."

Hesitantly, Neteyam's hand found your wrist, gently sliding down to intertwine your fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath, not daring to look at him. The feel of his hand on yours, the way his soft exhale fanned your neck, it was almost too much.

Closing your eyes, you evened out your breathing. "You make me crazy."

"Funny," he whispered. "I think I was crazy till I got to know you."

You grinned despite yourself, recalling that little boy who used to tug on your tail just to make you angry. "You were."

"Look at me." You faltered at the words, not so much a command, but a delicately toned question. "Please."

Without so much as a pause, you'd turned, hand adjusting in his, and met his eyes that burned right into you. How long had it been since you'd befriended him? Three months? Four? It felt like a lifetime. You'd always known him, in your mind, known him as well as you knew yourself.

You knew his favorite hunting spot, the way he liked to string his bow, how he braided his hair. You think you'd memorized each stripe on his body with the way you so often gazed at his toned muscles.

It was terrifying, but Neteyam had fought his way into your heart, no matter how much you tried to force him out.

"You don't have to be so guarded... I See you, Y/N."

His hand moved to cup your face, drawing you out of your thoughts. You flinched away, surprised, suddenly stepping out of his reach. Your arms wrapped around you, shivering though the air wasn't cold. You refused to look at him again.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping further away from you. "I didn't... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's..." You sighed, frustrated with words and how they so often escape you. With a hand to your temple, you glance up at him, praying that Eywa will give you the right things to say. "You know what they call me."

Neteyam nodded. "I do." He ducked his head to catch your eyes when you returned them to the ground. "I don't care what they say."

"Neither do I," you snap. A sigh leaves you. "But they're right. I'm... not used to this."

He looks confused as you gesture at the space between you. "Used to what?"

"This! You." Your gaze interlocks with his. Your veins tingled, the forest around you seeming to still as Eywa answered with a supply of just the right words. "How kind you are to me. How much I care for you. How easily you just say things and mean them. I'm jealous."

Your heart was quick and your eyes were like a fire bearing your innermost thoughts in its tendrils. "And I'm scared. You will grow tired of me. A Le'awtulant is not a Tsahik."

In an instant his brows were drawn and his lips curved down into a scowl. "Don't call yourself that."

Ears flat against his head, he steps closer, leaving just enough room between the two of you. "You are Y/N. Not what they say you are. Not what Zet'ka says you are."

Never had you felt so see-through as his fangs bared at the sound of your guardian's name. Was her coldness so obvious, or was it the way you cowered from her, how you clung to her every word?

Either way, you felt a burn in your throat as Neteyam stepped closer still, yet not enough. "You are you, not a cruel label." His hand extended, palm up, his eyes losing the ferocity just enough for you to feel his sincerity.

"You are Y/N, and I See you." He watched you stare at his hand, silently begging you to believe what he was saying "You won't ever have to wander again, if you'll have me."

Swift, your hand slipped into his, and your body collided with his. You left his hand and wrapped your arms around his middle before you could lose your nerve. Cringing, you waited.

His touch was featherlight as he embraced you tightly. Your face relaxed as your temple rested on his shoulder and his own leaned against your head. A shiver ran up your spine as his tail wound around your leg, yours in turn brushing along his thigh instinctively.

So softly you feared he might actually hear you, you spoke, "I See you, Neteyam."

He pulled back, his movements slow, and touched his forehead to yours. A barely there smile rose to his face, and soon a matching one appeared on yours. Rain started to trickle down through the trees, sending the two of you into soft laughter.

You hadn't mated that evening. Neither of you were too eager to grow up too much too fast. For now, things were gradual, and just slightly more obvious to all those around.

If someone wanted to find Y/N, they were directed to find Neteyam. If someone was in search of Neteyam, they should find Y/N. You knew the whispers, and so did he. The future Olo'eyktan with a Le'awtulant? The both of you happily ignored everything anyone had to say about the matter.

Jake was shocked. He recalled how his jaw fell slack as he watched the pair of you from across the hunting party's bonfire. His son left a swift kiss on your cheek, and you shied away with a gentle smile, reaching to take his hand as your tails twinned together.

He was happy, just shocked. He always took you for the celibate type, so to speak.

Neytiri wasn't so surprised. She had a keen eye and even sharper ears. The mother saw how his son gazed at you with an air of fondness and longing. She noticed how your eyes always lingered on him a little longer than needed.

She knew it was only a matter of time before tensions and stares came to fruition.

As for Zet'ka, she never addressed it outright. But you could see from her approving glances and subtle nods that she was happy for you, or as happy as such a woman could be.

Time moved on, and each slight touch from your lover didn't elicit an awkward flick of your ears as often. After some time, it was you who reached up to kiss his face, littering featherlight touches to his jaw and brow and eyes--and then his lips.

You would tug on the end of his tail as you walked past him. You only giggled when he whipped around, fangs bared in a hiss, only for his whole face to soften at the sound of your laugh.

Mo'at promptly swept you under her metaphorical wing, saying her grandson's mate would have to know a thing or two about healing. If you were to be Tsahik one day, she told you, you'd have to know the job.

You felt honored each time she said something like that.

Slowly, as each day drew on, you found yourself being brought into the Sully family whether you liked it or not (you liked it more than you would admit).

Every night--the one's that weren't marked by a rainshower--you and Neteyam climbed up through the branches of the trees, up to the hammock you used to call home, but now called just a place, where you slept in the arms of your beloved.

The people who called you the name you didn't care to remind yourself of fell few and far between, till no one could remember the Le'awtulant of Omaticaya, and only knew Y/N, most likely to be Neteyam's Tsahik.

[lovezbrownies]

I am a bit curious of the after affects of, “Thank you, cruel savior.” Of the one you wrote a while back. I honestly want to see the after events and how Gen’s reaction to us coming up as missing/successfully escaping. Whether she knows it was one of her trusted servants or not I want to see how much she looses it. Also, the long term effects to months to years afterwards to see if she will or won’t give up after still no traces

Hello! Thank you for your ask :3! I love love getting asks like this, really makes my brain start up with ideas. Rereading the "Thank you, cruel savior" fic made me realize how vague all the details are im so sorry!!!

Masterlist

Gen Ludenhart x GN!Reader

Warning: Loss of sanity, cannibalism, stalking, themes of depression, abuse of power, torture mentions (to you and others), crazy lady activites.

Gen is an important woman, so travelling every month to meet other monarch's and their subordinates and to work alongside them was a normal thing. But she had only left for a week. A week. So why was it when she returned, she couldn't find you or that rat Reina? Why are some of your clothes missing? Most of Reina's belongings were also gone. Immediately without thought she gave out many orders to close the entire country down in the name of a danger prison escapee who had taken a poor defenseless citizen hostage. Wanted posters of Reina were plastered on every surface of the empire. And missing posters of her darling.

Over the weeks Gen slowly and slowly loses her mind. She'd lash out at anyone that had incurred her wrath that day. This crazed depraved woman had damn near caused a war after insulting a delegate of another empire. Soon this behaviour ends up with her being fired. Of course this meant nothing to Gen, she was a rich noble to begin with. But now with a new Military Chief in power, all the orders she had given out to locate you had been removed. Her brother wouldn't listen to her nonesense any longer. Gen is now alone. She doesn't even have her family on her side any more. She fired every servant. She was truly all alone isolated in her big mansion, with no spouse, and no joyful kids.

Gen's manor by now has completely become delapitated, dust and grimes everywhere, some pieces of wood falling apart, and a remorseful woman in the middle of it all. She wanted to end it. Without you she was nothing. Gen was nothing to begin with until she met you. Gen needed you. You were her life, her air, her nutrition. But after a year of hopelessness and depression, Gen realized she could just look for you herself, she had so so much money, and she was incredibly strong. So with the last bit of logic and reason, Gen sought out a trip to Dacos, Reina's home country. She was sure that woman had seduced you into coming with her to Dacos. But no worries darling, your dear loyal wife is coming to rescue you.

Gen knew Reina was a village girl from the beginning, with her attitude, mannerisms, way of speech, and looks in general. Not only that, but if Reina ever bought a new house in one of the cities in Dacos it would be much easier to trace, and unfortunately for Gen, Reina was smart enough to know that. So Gen went from village to village, showing a picture of Reina or you to any villager she meets. If Reina was smart enough she would change all of your names.

Eventually, Gen reached a tiny village named Lesannea. When she approached an older man with a picture of you and Reina and he confirmed you two lived on the house on the hill to the right of the village, a twisted sickening smile spread across her face. Of course Reina was far too overconfindent with her escape. If this devil thought she can steal away Gen's darling and get away with it well she was dead wrong. Gen will take you back and kill Reina's family be as well as Reina as slow and painful as possible. Gen will make sure you don't see any of it though, but because she will cut up Reina and cook her. So she can feed you the remains of the traitor. Even if you refuse, this woman is no longer sane, she will shove it down your throat one way or another. Gen will then wisk you away oh so romantically and pamper you for a short wile. And when she's done she will regain her honor.

But most importantly. This event changed Gen tremendously, did you leave because she hurt you too much? Don't worry darling, Gen will love and coddle you so you can feel all the love she has for you, so you can never run away again. But of course, she needs to teach you one last lesson before she does that. So you can never attempt to leave her again.

[yikessmicah]

bloodweave

heres some bloodweave brainrot copy pasted directly from my priv twitter bc i was going insane at like 3am last night

// tw mention/brief discussion of astarion and gale's trauma, including sexual trauma. ill highlight it red so you can read the rest if youd like while avoiding the triggering part.

also obvious spoilers for part of astarion and gale's personal stories/quests.

AND DISCLAIMER this is my opinion and straight up brainrot u can ship whoever u want in bg3 idc <3

-----

sorry im having bloodweave brainrot because out of everyone in the camp i think gale Would be the objectively best match for astarion to be in a successful relationship with.

he wouldn't push him to do anything (tho i dont think any of the companions would, but ykwim) and since gale has his own form of relationship and sexual trauma (the fact mytsra groomed him since he was Literally a child and was only ever intimate with him on the astral plane therefore he's never had real physical human touch and intimacy) it would be overwhelming for him too!!

hed WANT to take it slow, he'd WANT to be as accomodating and like. he also has something on his body that represents his trauma the same way astarion does!! astarion has his scars and gale has the orb tattoo on his chest. i also think just. astarion's whole life as a spawn was only surrounded by people he Hated talking to. people who would spit insults and berate him, treat him like he was pathetic and disgusting - but gale? gale of waterdeep who never fucking shuts up?

gale of waterdeep who would gladly wake up and immediately shower him with compliments using words astarion had never even heard before? gale who would would describe astarion's features for him re: him not being able to see his reflection in such words and with such ease that eventually astarion starts to *like* the fact he doesnt have a reflection?

gale of waterdeep who would spend every waking moment of his day - that he wasnt spending talking to or being with astarion - working on a way to cure astarion of his vampirism or at Least a way for him to walk in the sun?

GALE OF WATERDEEP . who would gladly and without fucking question give up touching astarion ever again if he told him to?

gale of waterdeep who would answer every question astarion had? who would comfort his every dark thought?

gale of fucking waterdeep who would CARE for astarion so fucking well that he would genuinely start believing and KNOWING !!! he was worthy of love.

gale of FUCKING !! WATEDEEP !! who would vow to never shut up again if thats what helped astarion deal with the memories of sitting alone in a dungeon for months or YEARS at a time at the hands of cazador (not that that would be particularly hard with how me he talks already /pos).

gale who would gladly give up ever seeing the sun again and completely flipping his sleep schedule if it meant being able to walk the streets with astarion safely.

gale who would truly and wholly give nothing but his honest and real self. bare and beaten but NOT broken. show that astarion was the same. not broken. not something to be "fixed". simply something - SOMEONE - that needed to be guided a little. simply someone that needed safety.

gale of waterdeep who would do anything for his blood to taste sweet for astarion again. so he wouldnt have to fear where his next meal was going to come from. so astarion would never have to sink his teeth into a beast - let alone a sewer rat - ever again. never again would he let him have to hunt criminals in the night through the streets Alone. EVER AGAIN!!!

gale of waterdeep who would give up sleep to be by astarion's side as much as he could (since hes human and astarion is an elf). i just. he would do anything for him. Truly Anything.

gale of waterdeep who would wait weeks, months, YEARS - CENTURIES. if that's how much time it took for astarion to say i love you back. gale would say it 300 times a day and not once would it ring with the exigency of needing him to say it back.

gale....