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heart4gyu · 2 days

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wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!!

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

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maxwellatoms · 20 hours

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Hello Mr. Atoms, I'm an animation student in college and fan of your work. I got this assignment in which I need to ask questions to a professional in the area. Could you pretty please answer them? It'd mean a lot to me.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

Okey dokey.

1- Are you happy with your career? How it's going.

Not really, in that there seems to be no career left.

The animation industry swelled its numbers greatly before 2020. Almost immediately after that, corporate greed synergized with a pandemic to reduce animated programs and the number of people working on them to almost zero. It takes almost a year from beginning to end to make a single episode of an animated show (by the modern standard). There was nothing being made in 2020 and four years later, we''re not in a much better spot. It's going to be a long drought for (especially) Kid's TV Animation.

Recently, many of my former co-workers have hit the financial wall and can't continue, moving away after (sometimes) 20 years in the industry. I begin to wonder if I'm very far behind.

A "bounce back" a year from now would need to start today. There are still some animated shows being made now, but those are almost universally "library" properties. That means it's an existing I.P. (Intellectual Properties like Garfield/Mario/Batman/Star Wars) so as an artist you're immediately in that box. Depending on the property and the studio, it can be an unpleasantly tight box. I grew used to holding and maintaining the vision for a show, but it's less fun when it's not my vision. It's even less fun when you can't inspire someone to follow your vision because they've been so ruthlessly abused.

I'm pretty sick of how big media corporations treat their employees. If I inherit one more burnt out crew due to mismanagement, I'm gonna lose it.

Over a decade ago I fought hard to get board artists story credit for the episodes they were actually writing, and felt like I'd won a big victory for everyone. The second my back was turned, it all reverted.

Mostly... what is the point now? My career is/was developing ideas, crafting those ideas into a workable show, then managing teams of thirty to seventy people to produce a couple of dozen episodes per year. Studios actively do not want new ideas right now, and are actively searching for ways to eliminate what artists from the process. I'm not sure what my job would be under this new system, but it feels like they decided to hang onto the anxiety-inducing deadlines while removing anything remotely pleasurable from the experience.

2- What are your opinions, expectations and hopes about the independent animation industry that's developing?

It's the only way to get anything done, currently.

The current state of the industry is not sustainable. I (along with a lot of other animators I know) are trying to decide what's next, and pretty much everyone agrees that "you just have to make something".

It is (in that very specific way) a great time to be a young animator. The system was never going to treat you well anyway. If you can get something like a Hazbin Hotel happening without studio help, you can currently write your own ticket. I'm super proud of Vivsie, because that's a LOT of stuff to handle. I never had to handle my own marketing or drum up money to make Billy & Mandy happen.

There are opportunities there, but it's definitely "Hard Mode". The best idea is probably to team up with a few other people you like and like to work with.

Hopes? I hope that the young animators take over and make something new on top of the bones of the old industry, rather than just allowing that industry to patch its rotting hide with their collected works.

3- What do you think about the advent of artificial intelligence? Do you fear for the future of animators?

I suspect true AI might just peace-out like ScarJo in "Her", but we're not there yet. What we have now isn't Artificial Intelligence at all (though I do believe it may be the underpinnings of the Artificial Suconscious of what may one day become an actual Artificial Intelligence.)

The LLMs and "Generative AI" are (so far) a big dumb waste. They consume tons of energy and aren't great for doing anything creative. If you've sat down with Chat GPT for a creative writing session, you've probably run into the "out of the box" limitations which prevent it from talking about sex or violence-- which happen to be a major component of most stories.

Still, the technology has come incredibly far in an incredibly short amount of time. I imagine we're going to hit the point where we're being hazed by artificially generated political ads way before Generative AI can produce a consistent and usable character turnaround, so that'll be the test. Whatever the legal fallout is from this stuff over the next few years will set the tone.

Still, studios have a vested interest in pleasing their shareholders. Generative AI potentially has the capability of not only replacing swaths of money-eating artists, but handing that control directly to the billionaire studio heads. Mark my words: We're headed straight for billionaire-generated content.

I don't think the public at large will want to watch Elon Musk's fever dreams, so there's that. So law and general distaste might stave it off for a while, but I think there's just too much impetus for studios to continue to try to please their investors. "AI Art" is here to stay.

Eventually that will lead to millions and millions of bots generating millions and millions of songs and paintings and movies all day every day. Most of it will be utter trash. Right now (so I'm told) viewers are already burnt out, and will generally only click on what they already know. On Netflix, where there are twenty things you've never heard of and one you have, you're more likely to pick the thing that gives you comfort and gives you a guarantee you're not wasting your time. With exponentially more A.I. trash, how would you even begin to filter it out?

You'd need absolute control of an already existing distribution system. We currently have a few of those, and all of the media companies are desperately trying to merge with them to insure their own survival.

To me, the post-Gen-AI landscape looks a lot like old-school Cable, but with endless I.P. and fewer masters.

4- If money wasn't a problem, would you still do what you do?

The real question is, maybe, "What am I even doing?" These days I try to do a lot of gardening. I'm trying to learn new art skills, because suddenly twenty five years of experience managing, drawing, and writing isn't worth much. I recently worked on Jellystone until Zaslav lost 2.5 billion in the wash and had to find justification for his new yacht. The show before that? Also culled midway through to save money. The days of multi-year gigs seem to be over, and if I'm going to scrape by doing freelance, maybe I can do that somewhere else.

I'll always make art. I can't seem to help it. Ideas aren't my problem-- it's executing those ideas without the help of a structured pre-existing system. I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to pull that off. My strengths are great, but were always supported by friends I worked with.

Can I start an indie cartoon with all of these cool friends? Sure, maybe. Most of those people have gone on to have other careers of their own and got used to being paid. Now nobody is getting paid and no one can pay anyone else. My immediate circle are all now middle-aged people with families and no jobs. Convincing them to give up a large chunk of their day for an idea that's not guaranteed to pay off is going to take some real effort.

I technically have fifteen years until I can claim my "retirement", assuming that still exists by then. That's a pretty big hole to fill with... I don't know what.

The difficult "What comes next" discussions at home are really just starting.

5- Any animators you admire and would like to mention?

There are a lot of cool animation people out there. I already mentioned I was proud of Vivsie. I was also reminded recently just how great C.H. Greenblatt and Mr. Warburton are. I know they're my friends. They're both just really upstanding, creative people who take good care of their crews.

The treatment of animation industry professionals by the studio system has been one of the most demoralizing and heartbreaking parts of this demoralizing and heartbreaking time.

---

So there ya go. If you want to look for someone whose attitude is a little more upbeat, I won't blame you a bit.

Wherever you are, I wish you the best of luck. For me, just climb up there and crush it. I would very much like to add you to #5 someday.

#maxwell atoms #animation industry #grim reaper

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bones4thecats · 2 days

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Hello, I would like to request an imagine with a reader Mitsuri Kanroji or Shinobi Kocho( Kimetsu no Yaiba) with the characters Scarabia, Leona and Malleus please

Having A Shinobu/Mitsuri! S/O

Type of Writing: Request Name: Having A Shinobu/Mitsuri! S/O Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Leona Kingscholar, and Malleus Draconia Requester: @marinahavik

A/N: This is a mixture of both Shinobu and Mitsuri as the readers, with two having Shinobu and the other two having Mitsuri by what I think would fit best. Anyways, enjoy!

⚠️ TW: Manga/Mugen Train Spoilers! Slight swearing, mentions of death and self-doubt ⚠️

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Shinobu Kocho! Reader ; Basic Headcanons

☀️ Kalim, as we all know, is danger prone. You on the other hand, are far more trained and adept to your surroundings and the poisons that come near you

☀️ Your smile is something that Kalim also adores, but when he notices that whenever someone asks about your family, he begins to suspect that there is something behind your smile that you don't want the others, including him, seeing

☀️ When he does find out about your past and how your sister died, the housewarden of Scarabia tears up and hugs you tightly, reminding you of Tanjiro after your fellow hashira, Rengoku, passed away

☀️ He really wants to meet your estate's members, and when they come by to visit you, probably due to a mission nearby, he admires Uzui and Mitsuri the most

☀️ You give him a genuine smile as he tells Tanjiro and the rest of the Kamaboko Squad stories of his childhood and his homeland of Scaling Sands

What do you think of Shinobu Kocho! Reader?

" I love her so much! Her smile is so cute! But, the way she teases Jamil does seem to make him become slightly annoyed… I wonder why. "

Mitsuri Kanroji! Reader ; Basic Headcanons

🐍 When Jamil first met you, he was alarmed by how loving and kind you were

🐍 Like, how in the name of the Great Sevens did you end up getting organized into a college for dark-magic users? You seem to fit Royal Sword Academy far more

🐍 It's not that he hates how happy-go-lucky you are, in fact he loves that part of you. You’re like the sun to his moon. But, the way you effortlessly show off yourself just for others to google at annoys him to no end

🐍 He's not mad at you, rather he's mad at the others. They know you are together, so why are they trying to ask you out in front of him?

🐍 Anyways, when you had first brought your family to Night Raven College, his parents and yours bonded well, sharing the familiarity of their oldest child being strong at a young age, though Jamil was more magic while yours was physically

🐍 Speaking of your strength; Jamil loves it to no end.

🐍 He knows that you suffer from the curse of self-doubt, as he does himself in some areas. So, whenever he sees you doubting yourself, he comforts you and speaks of how sweet and gorgeous you are, no matter the body type or what decorates your skin. After all, beauty is on the inside just as much as the outside

What do you think of Mitsuri Kanroji! Reader?

" She's quite a bit of everything mixed into the most beautiful person ever made. Their personality is astounding and just the way she effortlessly takes care of Kalim to help me out is great. Though, her appetite is quite difficult to keep up with. Thankfully she knows how to cook and bake just as well as I do. Speaking of which, she made these amazing mochi the other day- "

Shinobu Kocho! Reader ; Basic Headcanons

🦁 He was initially annoyed by you

🦁 You just seemed to appear so arrogant because of your constant teasing remarks to him and others and your sly smile was not helping his views on you increase

🦁 But, whenever and however you to had got together, he always is latched to your back. At least when your not busy

🦁 Leona may not seem like he does, but he listens to every explanation on the poisons you are either working on to heal your fellow Demon Slayers or to learn about in order to heal them

🦁 As a beastman, Leona has very good hearing and a excellent sense of smell. So, whenever you come back and he smells the scent of another on you, he gets pissy. The same goes if he were to find a male ZENITSU clinging and asking for your hand in marriage

🦁 You love to tease him, and it’s so gosh darn easy to do so. When you see his form stiffen at your words, you just go on. But, if you were to see his tail swaying and smacking against the ground or any nearby surface as his ears lay flat, you back away and tell him you were joking

🦁 When you had decided to tell Leona about your sister and everything that you were planning, he was extremely upset at first. But, after a while, he grew to understand, making you swear to at least find a secondary option

🦁 He knew you weren't, but he hoped you at least tried for him

What do you think of Shinobu Kocho! Reader?

" They're alright, I suppose. Their teasing does get annoying, but I can't lie. They’re real good with a, uh, whatever the hell their blade was called - a nichirin. But, I do hope their plan works with another route, I can’t stand the though of losin 'em in that way… I hope that bastard upper two dies painfully though… fuck him. "

Mitsuri Kanroji! Reader ; Basic Headcanons

🐉 He, much like other Night Raven College students, believed that you belonged at Royal Sword Academy because of your personality

🐉 But, seeing you lunge into gear and protect Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and himself from Leona's oncoming overblot-filled attacks made him look at you in a slightly different light

🐉 You were an amazing person by nature. Your kindness and adoration of all things you deemed cute (which was nearly everything), made Malleus gently smile at you for the first time

🐉 He normally lays his head in your lap as you mess around with his hair, normally taking the back pieces and braiding it to match your own, this action normally makes Sebek upset, but Malleus loves it

🐉 Along with that, seeing how strong you are makes him overjoyed with pride in his lover. After all, normally no pure human can take down a half-fae such as Sebek with as much ease as you had

🐉 Your appetite is something that Malleus also likes. As a fae, he has quite the stomach as well, so seeing you absolutely mash down the delicacy you call mochi makes stars form in Malleus' eyes while tinges of fear get struck in other Diasomnia members

🐉 Whenever he sees you doubting yourself, your dragon-fae lover comes behind you and hugs you while his tail wraps around your leg, lightly squeezing your calf and thigh in reassurance; you were perfect in his eyes

What do you think of Mitsuri Kanroji! Reader?

" They are by-far the most interesting human I have met in my elongated life. Their sense of character is admirable, just seeing their smile makes my once-lonely existence light up with a delightful mixture of joy and love. I just wish they would see themselves in just as much of a shining light as I do. "

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tkwrites · 3 days

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Good For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @gabelandeskog

Title: Good For You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Summary: Quinn and Sarah have a discussion about and decide to stop using condoms before putting that decision into practice. A question we’ve all been waiting for is finally asked.

Warnings: smut (18+ only), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), cum play (sort of?), if I missed anything, let me know!

Word count: 4,900

Comments: I live!

After two heavy snapshots, steeped in feelings, I’m back with some good old fashioned smut (with lots of plot, of course, because I am who I am). Thanks to the many Nonnies who requested this. I’d already started writing it when you sent this, but your asks challenged me to combine both your requests. I hope you enjoy, and it lives up to your expectations! If you did enjoy, please let me know by commenting, sending in an ask or reblogging! I love reading your comments, asks and suggestions!

Anonymous asked: hey! Another request idea… I was rereading the fic about Sarah being overwhelmed before meeting Quinn’s parents and when they’re talking about the WAG jackets, sarah mentions that they aren’t official yet. Can we get fic of Quinn officially asking Sarah to be his gf? Seriously love readying your stuff!

Anonymous asked: I love how much you actually show the communication between Quinn and Sarah, it makes it so much more real and overall I just love your writing ❤️❤️ I noticed how as their relationship progresses, they decide not to use condoms. Will we get to see this conversation in the future? I'd also love to see when they officially decide to be together with labels and all xxx

Good For You

A Quinn & Sarah snapshot

“Hey, Quinn?” Sarah called, walking up the stairs.

“Yeah?”

She found him on the suede couch, reading a book.

Sitting at his feet, she smiled when he moved them into her lap. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” he put the marker in his book and rested it on his chest.

Color flooded into her cheeks.

“What?” he asked, unable to hold in a nervous laugh at her sudden blush.

“I just,” she paused to lick her lips, trying to screw up her courage. “I wanted to let you know I had an IUD put in last month.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the most effective form of birth control. It’s pretty much as effective as celibacy.”

He paused, unsure where this conversation was going. When she didn't elaborate, he asked, “So what did you want to talk about? Just that you have it?”

“Well that and —” she knotted her fingers together, “since it’s super effective, and we’re only seeing each other and have been for a while, I wondered if maybe you wanted to…” she trailed off.

Quinn got the feeling he was supposed to know what she was talking about, but he was clueless. “If I wanted to, what?”

Chewing on her lip, she guessed it was time to just spit it out, “I wondered if we both get STI tested, and only if you want to, we could try not using condoms all the time.”

He felt his eyes go wide. “What?”

“I mean, only if you want to. If you feel more comfortable with condoms, that’s totally fine.”

“Are you joking?” he asked, scrambling to sit up. The book slipped off him and fell to the wood floor with a sharp slap. “Of course I want to. Did you think I was going to turn down that offer?”

“I don’t know.”

He moved to kneel, crowding into her space. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel it in his fingertips. “Can we try now?”

A laugh split her mouth into a pretty smile, but she put a hand to his chest to stop him from leaning closer.

“We need to get STI tested first.”

“I’m clean,” he said.

“As far as I know, I am too, but I would feel better if we both got tested, knowing neither of us has slept with someone else in quite a while.”

He looked crestfallen.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” she hastened to add, “I’ve just heard horror stories of girls whose boyfriends didn’t know they were carrying something. Most STIs affect women, you know, and men just pass them along.”

His eyes went wide, “really?”

“Just another joy of being a woman.”

“Thats bullshit.”

“Yep,” she agreed, popping the last letter. “So It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I really need that proof for my own peace of mind before I’d feel comfortable.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, “of course. I’ll talk to Roman about it tomorrow.”

“I’ll message my doctor,” she said with a shy smile, pulling out her phone.

Logically, Quinn knew they needed to talk about this before anything could happen, but the thought that he might get to fuck her bare buzzed in the back of his mind so intensely, he wished she had waited until it was an actual possibility, even if that was impossible.

When he asked Roman about it between breakfast and video the next day, the trainer immediately went into crisis mode, “what kind of symptoms are you having?”

“None. I'm just — I want to be safe.”

He was going to tell him that the girl he was seeing — he was getting so sick of using that phrase — asked him to, but that seemed like it was putting all the blame on Sarah. While she did ask for it, he'd just never considered it something he should do. Now that he knew, he was more than happy to do it.

“You're sure? You can tell me, you know.”

“I know. No symptoms. I’m just making sure.”

Roman looked at him appraisingly. “Are you dating someone new?”

Quinn was a bit surprised he hadn't heard about it. It seemed to him it was the only thing the guys chirped him about lately.

“Yeah.”

“Good for you,” he said approvingly. “Glad to know you're being safe.”

Quinn felt a chagrinned smile spread over his face.

“Well, I’m glad to know your girlfriend is safe at least,” Roman said with a laugh.

How was it so easy for him to whip that word around?

“Go to Doctor Jamison's after practice. I'll put in an order for you. They'll just need a blood sample.”

The results took two days. By that time he was on the road. Thankfully, not for too long. Only one game.

He sent her a screenshot of the panel results. All negative, mercifully. He didn't expect to be positive, but he hadn't checked while he was with or after he broke up with June.

She sent back a screenshot of her own test panel, also all negative.

It was suddenly very real. The idea of coming home to Sarah was even more enticing than usual.

He’d fucked girls bare before, he knew the sensations that came along with it, but he’d never fucked Sarah bare before. He’d tried, and she’d insisted on using condoms. He wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable, and he wasn’t going to give up sleeping with her. If that meant he had to wear a condom, he’d do it.

Now that the possibility of making love to her without one was on the horizon, he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

Looks like we'll be coming in about 2, he texted when they got to the arena. They'd fly home right after the game versus Calgary. Want to just stay at my place?

Wish I could, she wrote back, but I have class tomorrow at 8. I'll come to yours as soon as I'm done with work, though.

“What's wrong, Q?” Brock asked, noticing his crestfallen expression.

“Nothing,” he said, shoving his phone into his bag. “Sarah's just got class tomorrow morning so I won't see her until tomorrow night.”

“Man, she's got you whipped.”

Quinn rolled his eyes, playing off the comment. If he protested, he knew they would just chirp him about it more, and there was no way he was going to explain his excitement to Brock.

When the next evening finally rolled around, Quinn found himself pacing, a nervous excitement buzzing through his whole body. He’d never felt like this before. As if anticipation had been winding him up for 4 days straight.

He’d tried his best to burn off as much energy as possible on a run that morning, but that felt like years ago now. Adrenaline was coursing through him by the gallon.

He heard the elevator ding, and his stomach leapt.

Before Sarah could scan in, the door flung open. Quinn was standing there, cheeks already flushed.

She couldn’t help it, she gigged.

“What?”

“You’re just really cute,” she said.

Pulling her into the apartment, he resisted the urge to pull her upstairs straight away. Cool. He needed to be cool.

“Cute in a good way, right?”

“Yes,” she assured, leaning up to kiss him. “In a very good way.”

All of a sudden, the enormity of the situation crashed on him. He and Sarah had had sex 73 times, but this felt totally new. A frantic awkwardness took hold of his mind. How was he supposed to start this? Just like every other time? Every other time, it happened so naturally.

“Hey,” she said, grasping his wrist, trying to stop the overthinking she could practically see scrolling across his face.

He blinked a few times and met her eyes. “Sorry. I’m so… I mean, I’ve never anticipated something like this for so long.” The words were falling out of his mouth before he really had a chance to think through them.

“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I’m not sure I have either.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up,” he admitted.

A soft smile took over her face. “Quinn, it’s me. We've already had great sex. This is just another step.”

Nodding, he took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. Excitement reared in his stomach again, waging battle with his nerves.

“I do think we should talk about it, though.”

“Didn’t we already talk about it?”

“I mean, I think we should talk about what we want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what we're looking for.” She moved to sit on the living room couch, pulling him down with her. “I want to make sure we talk about it before we're in the heat of the moment so neither of us do something the other isn’t comfortable with.”

Quinn had never been with someone who communicated as much as Sarah. “It’s a product of the dead parents,” she’d told him when he asked her about it once, “life’s too short to not have the conversation.”

He sat next to her, “okay, so what do you want?”

“I want to feel you fuck me bare.”

The frank way she said it made his whole body ring.

“And I want to feel you come inside me.” It felt dangerous and exciting to say it out loud, but she couldn't get it out of her mind.

“Really?” Quinn asked, voice lilted with surprise.

“Yeah. I've been dreaming about it,” she admitted. For the past few weeks, it seemed every time she would dream of him, the feeling of him filling her was so vivid that when she woke, her underwear would be soaked, almost as if she'd orgasmed in her sleep. “I'm guessing that's something you want, too?”

He nodded.

“Is there anything else you want?”

He opened his mouth, then paused.

She nodded, encouraging him.

“I mean, there is something but it’s not a huge deal.” He was pretty certain she would at least consider it, but history had him trying to not get his hopes up.

“Tell me,” she urged, resting her hand on his knee. “I want to do what you want, too.”

“I want to come on you,” he admitted, the words coming out all in a rush.

Eyes widening, Sarah couldn’t quite stifle the laugh that squeaked from her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she hurriedly back pedaled, seeing the hurt on his face, “I’m not laughing at you, it’s just — with the look on your face, I was bracing myself for something super kinky.”

“June hated it,” he said quietly. “She didn’t like cum at all.”

“So did you just wear condoms all the time?”

“No. She didn’t like those either.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together, an incredulous expression on her face. “You can’t have it both ways.”

Something inside him unknotted.

“I mean, did she insist you come in a tissue every time or something?”

“Most of the time,” he amended, “sometimes I could come in her, but never on her.”

June reminded Sarah so much of the mean girls she’d known throughout her life: content to demand things of others, knowing their social currency was enough to purchase obedience to all of those ridiculous rules. Part of her wondered if June even disliked cum, or if she was just trying to keep Quinn under her thumb.

“Well I don’t have a problem with either. I mean, I don’t really love a facial, but other places are fine.” She paused for a moment, thinking about how often Quinn asked her questions, willing to learn, so he could please her better, “and, I mean, if you’re really invested in coming on my face, we can do it. I just don’t want it all the time.”

He felt his eyelids grow heavy and he swallowed thickly. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. A relationship is a two way street. You deserve to get the things you want, too. ”

The relieved smile he gave her in response made her want to slap June across the face. Quinn was so, so good — attentive and genuine and so willing to learn and please. She wanted to do the same for him. Besides, it wasn’t like Sarah had some kink for cum, at least she didn’t think she did, but feeling a partners pleasure in such a tangible way, always gave her a deep sense of satisfaction.

“Is there anything else you want?” he asked.

“No. You?”

He shook his head.

“Alright,” she said, “I think we should go upstairs.”

Quinn stopped trying to play it cool. He was too excited to play it cool. He grabbed her hand and raced up the stairs, glad that she laughed as she ran along with him.

She threw open the door to his room. Sarah loved this room. It was in the corner of the building, and huge windows looked over the beautiful Vancouver skyline. The sun was setting, turning the harbor and city windows yellow and pink, casting their colors on the walls and spinning everything else in the room into gold.

Before she could get too caught in the view, he was spinning her around, catching her mouth in a kiss that sucked the breath right out of her.

Clothing was discarded, and they tumbled into his bed.

They surged together and Sarah moaned. It was already so much better.

Somehow, there was less pressure. He didn't have to think about pulling away to make sure they were safe. He could stay focused on her without any other worries. Why had he been so nervous? This felt, like she said, like the natural next step.

When he pulled back to line himself up, Sarah pressed her hand to his pelvis stopping the movement.

“What?” he asked, worried he'd hurt her.

“We need lube,” she said. “Or more foreplay. The condoms you have have lube on them, so they slide easier. Without that I'm worried…” she trailed off.

He hadn't even thought about it. “Which do you want?”

“I mean, I'm always game for more foreplay.”

Grinning, he leaned down to kiss her, rolling his hips against hers again. As their tongues tangled, she groaned into his mouth.

“Tell me when you're ready,” he whispered in her ear before tracing his lips over her jaw and down her neck. He licked and kissed, while one of his hands fondled her breasts, working her up to those hitched little breaths and small moans he loved so much.

“Quinn,” she breathed, a few moments later, as her temperature spiked. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and his beard rasped against her skin. She’d never liked facial hair before him, but somehow, with Quinn, it was more arousing than painful. Probably because of what else he was doing. God, he was good with his mouth.

Unbidden, but not unwelcome or unfamiliar, images crashed into her mind — Quinns head buried between her thighs, his magic tongue working her to a climax she knew would be mind melting. The fantasies made her desperate for him.

“I need you,” she gasped, feeling herself grow slick against the muscular ridge of his thigh he had wedged between her legs.

“I’m right here.”

“I need you inside me.”

Her admission made Quinn feel drunk with desire. Out of his mind with it. He pulled back and her hand covered his to help him line up.

Pressing into her was better than he’d imagined.

She was so hot and wet and, “shit, you’re so tight,” he ground out, the words scraping over a moan.

Now that the barrier was gone, the time spent waiting to remove it was well worth it. Her smooth walls hugged him perfectly.

Just to feel the contrast, he withdrew to the tip, pulling a sharp breath through his teeth at the rush of cool air before he drove back into her warmth. His jaw dropped and he made some unintelligible sound.

Slick and slippery, his thrusts moved with her seamlessly as she rose to meet him again and again and again.

“So good,” she breathed, reveling in the feel of him - every vein and ridge that had been smoothed by the latex covering before felt so prominent now and, “Quinn, you feel so good.”

The praise went straight to his head.

“You feel so —” he broke off with a growl. “Shit, you feel so amazing, Sarah. I — I —” He babbled, nearly blurting that he loved her. He bit that back. This wasn’t the time for that. He wanted that to be special, not something spluttered in a lust-drunk moment. “I don't know how long I can last,” he admitted instead.

God, he was something else. Flushed and flustered, eyes half hooded, body tight with exertion and control, he looked delicious. The fact that he wanted her this much made her chest feel full to bursting.

A moan escaped her mouth as pleasure washed over her face. Her eyelashes fluttered.

Just like that, he was done for. Cooked.

“I can't… I can't,” he stammered. At least he lasted longer than the embarrassing two strokes from their first time.

“Then don't,” she panted, rocking her hips into his. Her own climax building as the thought of him finally coming inside her brought her sensitivity to a peak.

Groaning her name, he let his body take over, rhythm turning sloppy.

As she watched, his eyes fluttered closed and with a final, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt and let go.

Feeling the very tangible result of his pleasure coat her walls made Sarah’s breath hitch. It only took a few more rocks of her hips before her body bowed, chest pressing flush to his as she pulsed around him, pleasure poured into her body.

His mouth was open against her neck as he let out a sort of pained grunt.

Coming down, she melted into the soft mattress.

His body followed hers, his weight pressing into her. He knew it was probably too heavy, but he couldn’t possibly hold himself up right now.

Quinns gasping breaths were crashing into her neck. Even though it didn’t make it any easier to catch her breath, she loved the solid weight of him on top of her.

Strength slowly returned to him and they both winced a little as he eased out.

Flopping onto his back next to her, he groped for her hand. “Oh my god,” he breathed, once he had control of his voice. “That was incredible.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, pulling some breaths deep into her lungs.

After a few more moments of basking in the afterglow, she moved to get up. He tugged her back, “where are you going?”

“I need to pee. I'll be right back, I promise.”

He didn't shy away from watching her pad to the bathroom and then back to the bed.

Halfway through their second round, he was determined to feel Sarah come undone around him when he wasn’t so sensitive from his own orgasm. Working his fingers to her clit, he traced gentle patterns over the swollen nub.

A pleasured sigh left her lips. “Oh,” Sarah breathed, “that feels so good, Quinn.”

She had to take a moment to make her mind concentrate on one thing at a time. Anticipation coiled tighter in her belly as she focused on his gentle, deliberate touch, the heat of his body above and inside her, and then, the feel of his cock, which had been so dulled before, it almost felt completely new.

He dipped lower, gathering more of her arousal on his fingers to slip and slide over her bundle of nerves.

He didn’t try to hide or hold back from how good it felt when she fluttered around him. Her name panted from his mouth. Only when he felt himself sliding too close to the edge, did he bite his lip to distract himself.

Seeing Quinn hold on for her, trying to draw out her orgasm before his own, made tenderness swell within her. It mixed with the pleasure in her veins, bringing her closer to the peak. How the hell did June not see him this way?

She gasped his name before admitting, “I’m almost there.”

“What do you need?” he asked, wrenching his eyes open to look into her face.

“Keep going, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

He shook his head. Never. He would never stop trying to please her like this and any other way he could.

The steady rhythm he restrained himself into did its job, and she tipped over the edge.

The coil in her belly finally shattering, her body seized up as pleasure fractured through her like lightning. His name flew from her mouth in a hoarse cry.

Jaw falling open, he grunted his pleasure as her core sucked him deeper with every rhythmic pulse. God, she felt even more incredible. Sarah was already the best he’d ever had, and now, the sex had just gotten better. How was that possible?

Gripping the sheets, he held on for her, moaning and muttering about how good she felt coming around him.

Sarah was mesmerized by him. His eyes were shut now, the skin around them taut, but his jaw was lax, nearly hanging open. His arms flexed, mountains and valleys of muscle on either side of her, straining with the effort of holding himself up.

Electricity was still buzzing faintly through her veins, even as her high ebbed away. She couldn’t wait any longer to fulfill his fantasy.

“Come on me, Quinn.”

Breath lodged in his throat and his eyes flew open, frantically searching her face. “You're sure?”

“Yes. I want you to. Come on me,” she repeated, running her fingers up her chest as an example.

In a rush of want, he planked above her, quickly tugging on his cock, slick with her arousal, until he exploded, painting a sticky white line up her chest.

She seemed to preen under the assault, arching her back and moaning as if it was something she’d been waiting her whole life for. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned as his limbs turned to jelly.

He managed to lower himself on top of her without dropping, feeling his cum slick between their skin.

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” he panted against her mouth.

In a few minutes time, Sarah knew she'd be squirming for a shower, but for now, she felt extremely gratified with fulfilling this fantasy for him. She smiled, replaying the look of shocked elation on his face when she requested it.

Tracing her fingers up the bumps of his spine, she took in a deep breath and let it sigh out of her lungs, reveling in the weight of his body on hers.

Finally catching his breath, he lifted his head, arching an eyebrow. “Where did all of this come from?”

“All what?”

He traced a finger through the valley of her breasts, gathering some of his cum. “This,” he said, “your little exhibitionist streak when I came on you.”

“Oh,” she somehow blushed despite her flushed skin. “I wanted to be good for you. You’re so good to me all the time, I want you to feel that, too.”

That simple statement, her admittance that she did it for him, made his head spin. How could he have ever thought what he had with June was love? He saw now how a love that met you half way blew her idea of love, which he knew now was more about control, out of the water.

A few minutes later, Sarah’s sweaty, post-sex skin began to itch. “Shower?” she asked.

“Snacks,” Quinn countered, his head still resting on the front of her shoulder.

A laugh shook her chest, “shower then snacks.”

He supposed it could work.

A short while later, they were in the kitchen, and Quinn was having an argument with himself.

They needed to have a conversation, but it was terrible timing. He didn’t want her to think he was only bringing it up because of what happened that night. At the same time, he'd been thinking about it since before his parents' visit, when she'd brought up the WAG jackets. Now that his mom and dad had met her and approved, the only thing holding him back was his brother's approval. He wasn't sure he could wait that long.

He was about to leave again, and the family skate was coming up after he got back. He wanted her to come, but he was so tired of introducing her as the girl he was seeing. Sarah was more than that, now. It didn’t fit anymore, and it was too damn long to keep saying.

If they didn’t talk about it now, he worried there wouldn’t be enough time.

He glanced at her. She was wearing a shirt with a funny little cartoon of a fork and a spoon that said, ‘Spooning leads to forking’ along with a pair of matching shorts. Her thighs were bare and lovely in the dim light as she sat on the counter, eating a piece of cheese she’d stolen from the sandwich he was building for them to split.

He put the top piece of bread on and decided he should just blurt it out. He didn’t think there would be a better way. The longer he waited, the harder it would be to bring up.

“What do you think about being my girlfriend?” he said, looking up.

Her hand paused on the way to her mouth, the cheese missing an almost cartoon-like bite — a little scalloped half moon cut into one corner.

“Am —” Sarah paused, wondering if this was some kind of a trick question. “Am I not?”

“No,” he said before his brain caught up with him. “No, you are, but I mean, like, formally?”

Her head tilted to one side, “Of course. I’ve been thinking of you as my boyfriend for a few weeks now. Pretty much since you met Trav and the kids.”

A sigh breathed through him.

“Did you think I was gonna say no?”

“I don’t…I mean, I didn’t want you to think I was only bringing it up because of the unprotected sex thing.”

“That is pretty terrible timing on your part,” she conceded, laughing. “It’s a good thing I…” she trailed off, stopping herself from continuing out loud. Why couldn’t she just come out and say it? So what if she was in her ridiculous pajamas in his kitchen? She’d brought them with her expressly because she thought they would make him laugh, and she’d been right. The delighted surprise that had escaped his mouth when he’d seen them was something she knew she’d treasure for a long time.

“A good thing you?” he repeated, hope ballooning in his chest.

“It’s a good think I know you’re not just in it for the sex,” she said, lamely.

Quinn’s expression went from worried to distraught right before her eyes. “How could you think that?” he asked, his voice embarrassingly earnest.

“Quinn, I —”

He cut her off, “I like so many things about you, Sarah. You’re smart and funny and you’re kind to everyone you meet, and you’re so dedicated to your work.” He was rambling now, but if she thought he was in this just for the sex? He would die of shame.

“I like that you’ve never treated me like anything else but Quinn, and you’re always willing to meet me half way,” he said, his voice taking on an almost frantic quality as he tried to convey what she meant to him. “And I —”

“Quinn.”

The way she said his name made him stop short.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand coming up to gently cup his jaw. “I was teasing. I know you’re not just in it for the sex. Someone who only wanted sex wouldn’t have waited four weeks to have it.”

She had a valid point.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Quinn. Just as long as you can be my boyfriend.”

“Deal,” he said, leaning in to kiss her, feeling as if someone had struck a match, setting his heart ablaze.

Settling into bed, Quinn remembered he hadn’t told her yet.

“Hey, my family’s coming in for the finals. They’ll be here on the 20th.”

“Oh,” she said, obvious disappointment on her face.

“Is that not…okay?”

Feeling her cheeks blaze, Sarah realized she hadn’t shared that expectation with him yet. “It’s just…my last final is that day and I’ve kind of been looking forward to you fucking me silly as a reward for finishing.”

His eyes went huge, “oh.”

“It's one of the ideas that's kept me going, honestly.”

“I could still do that,” he said, the words rushing out of his mouth.

“With your family in the house? I don't think so.”

“At yours then.”

“With my roommates there?”

He bit his lip. “We could get a hotel?”

“Because that's not weird when you have people, let alone family, staying at your house.”

“I’ll tell them to come a day later,” he offered.

“Would they buy that without an explanation?”

“Would I have to give them one?”

“I don't know. Would you? My family would want to know. You’ll have to make something up.”

“You don’t want me to tell them they can’t come on the 20th because my girlfriend finally finished her classes and wants to be fucked all night?” he teased.

Giggling, she smacked his shoulder lightly, “I think I might die if your mom knew that about me,” she admitted, part of her mind still caught on the open way he used the girlfriend title.

He laughed.“I’ll just tell them we have a late team meeting, or something so it would be better for them to come in on 21st. It’ll be fine.”

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lilasamaaa · 2 days

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Miss missing you | Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt.

Word count | 2.1K

Warnings | Breakup, depressing thoughts, mentions of cheating.

Summary | Reader wakes up the day after her breakup with Charles and reflects on their relationship. Inspired by the song "Miss Missing You" by Fall Out Boy. Author's note | Sorry for being criminally addicted to writing sad things.

Don't panic, no, not yet

The living room shutter is closed. Impenetrable.

She has no idea how long she's been like this, slumped on her couch in the dark, her face irritated by the relentless assault of her tears. Outside, she knows life has gone on without her. She suspects the sun has risen, like every morning. That darkness has given way to light, like every morning. She even heard her neighbors in the hallway, heading to work. Like every morning.

Taking a deep breath, she feels her heart and throat tighten, tears doubling. She didn't even know she had that much water in her body. It's not just an ordinary morning. It's the first of many mornings where she will wake up with her heart in pieces.

I know I'm the one you want to forget

She remembers, a few years ago, listening to Taylor Swift's "Mr. Perfectly Fine" for days on a row. She remembers cursing Joe Jonas, she even remembers feeling so sorry for Taylor. What kind of guy breaks up with his girlfriend over the phone?

Well, Charles, apparently.

She's not stupid, not blind, not even a little naive.

She had felt it coming. Had noticed him slowly drifting away. The calls were less frequent, and the ones she managed to intercept, shorter. She knows there was someone else. Maybe multiple someones. They'd somehow stopped talking about him, about her, about them. They only talked about races, cars, airplane trips. That's the only thing that seemed to keep them together. The only thing that had brought them together in the first place. She, the daughter of the CEO of one of Ferrari's sponsors. Him, the one who wore the suit with the logo printed on it.

Cue all the love to leave my heart, It's time for me to fall apart

She wished her heart would close. She wished she could block his access to it. She wished she could reclaim it, as one might retrieve the keys to an apartment once shared. But that bastard remains wide open. It's almost embarrassing, the way her heart, cruelly empty, hopes to be filled again. To feel his warmth once more. To beat for him again.

Her mind has stopped functioning, but her heart, somehow, hasn't stopped. It keeps beating, selfishly. It keeps her alive. For what? To feel the hurt, the betrayal, the despair? Honestly, it's not worth the effort. The poor thing should have just stopped.

Now you're gone, but I'll be okay, Your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flame

She's young. She's had flings, but she's always been the one to end them. Charles was her first serious relationship. The only significant one, actually. She didn't think the pain would be so raw, so physical. She feels like she can sense her heart crumbling a little more each time she thinks of him. She feels it in her chest, swelling, taking up space, trying to escape. It wants to leave her body. To break free from this darkened, wounded brain that suffocates it.

She's not against the idea. It can leave. She can function without it. She's almost convinced of it, if that's what it takes to feel alive again. To feel like her again.

Maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight, Let the fire breathe me back to life

Her heart isn't the first to be broken. Won't be the last.

She's heard stories from friends, from close ones, who've gone through breakups. Today, she feels so foolish for feeling so little concern about those stories back then. She's always been a listening ear, an unwavering support. She's sat in bars, cafés, bedrooms, listening to stories of betrayal and broken promises, and she simply didn't believe it would ever happen to her. As if she were above the laws. Above all that. She remembers listening to tales of broken hearts like children listen to myths of dragons, of wizards, of magic.

That's what it was for her. Fantasy. Something so unreal, so inconceivable.

Even though it hurts, she has sworn to let herself feel everything. The good as well as the bad. She knows that one day, she will look back on this period of her life, and she won't be overwhelmed by sorrow and pain anymore. But today, she has to go through it, let the flames lick her body to better heal her wounds later.

Baby you were my picket fence, I miss missing you, now and then

She'd never introduced a boyfriend to her family. Never envisioned a future with anyone. Never looked at houses with anyone. But with him, she did. A few months ago, while strolling on the hills of Monaco, she'd passed by a gate behind which a stone path led to a discreet little house. She'd fallen in love with the garden bordered by trees and flowers. She'd liked the color of the gate surrounding the property. She'd even found charm in the slightly crooked chimney protruding from the roof. She'd taken a photo of the "For Sale" sign and sent it to Charles. He had responded with a series of emojis (a face with hearts for eyes, sparkles, a star, the rest she can't remember). He had promised to call to set up a visit.

She would never walk down the stone path.

Chlorine kissed, summer skin, I miss missing you, now and then

She's never been drawn to wealth. She was born into it. Penthouses, luxury cars, diamonds hold no charm in her eyes. She's always been searching for more authentic, more simple things.

One summer when Charles had suggested a yacht outing, the lovers had ended up on a poorly patched-up rowboat that was taking on water. The monacan had complained all afternoon, but she still remembers the sensation of lying against him, against his warm, salty skin, alone in the world in their small boat. A feeling that no amount of money could ever buy. A feeling that no amount of money could ever get her back.

Sometimes before it gets better, The darkness gets bigger

What had begun as sweet and innocent had taken a turn.

Times were tough. His job was demanding. Exhausting. She did her best to support him, to show him he could lean on her anytime he needed. He wouldn't talk. Little by little, she was abandoning more and more things from her daily life to dedicate herself to his. His stability. His success. His worries. Sometimes, she felt like she was losing herself, but she knew it was temporary. She thought she would soon get the old Charles back. Even when he started going out late. Even when he started coming home late. Even when he started not coming home at all.

The endless suffering hadn't brought her anything. In fact, it had taken everything from her.

The person that you'd take a bullet for, Is behind the trigger

She knew the signs, had seen them in her own parents. When they ate together, he could go through the entire meal without meeting her gaze. When she placed her hands on his body, he would sometimes shiver. Not the shiver of anticipation from the early days. The kind that suggested he didn't deserve the display of affection.

Her own friends seemed oblivious to the situation. "I ran into Charles yesterday, at the club," "I saw Charles in town with a friend", "Aren't you with Charles today?". Were they trying to pretend everything was fine to protect her? Or were they already distancing themselves from a situation they didn't want to witness?

Oh, we're fading fast, I miss missing you, now and then

She pinpointed the breaking point as her sister's wedding. How ironic, she'd thought. Celebrating love, respect, and unity when I feel none of these things in my own relationship. Charles had arrived late, his hair disheveled, tie slightly askew. She had felt tears burning behind her eyes, had bitten her cheek to hold back from exploding in the middle of the church. She refused to believe that he had done that to her. That he had disrespected her on this day, in this place. Her entire family had cast a glance in her direction, had observed the way Charles had slipped between the guests to sit next to her. Without a glance. Without a touch. Her sister, speech in hand, had taken a few seconds to start. "With you by my side, I know I can face anything," she had started saying to her husband, letting her eyes meet the teary ones of her little sister.

Making eyes at this husk, around my heart, I see through you and we're sitting in the dark

He told her everything, recounted everything to her. From what he felt in the car during a race to his latest argument with his brother. She read him like an open book, could anticipate every word, every gesture, every thought, even. To joke around, she often said she knew him better than she knew herself. Upon reflection, they got together when they were eighteen. Had she even had time to get to know herself, or had she cowardly built herself around him?

The idea of pursuing her life's journey without him terrified her. She didn't know who she was, who she wanted to be. She didn't even know if she liked herself. She sometimes wondered if he knew her as well as she knew him. If he knew her favorite color, her favorite song, her favorite season. She always ended up pushing those somber thoughts away, reminding herself that these concerns were those of a schoolgirl, and got back to her duties. To taking care of him.

So give me your filth, make it rough, Let me, let me, trash your love

She was gentle, with a calm nature, almost maternal.

She never lost her composure, never raised her voice. But she had yelled that day. When they arrived home after the church ceremony. She would never forget, and he probably wouldn't either, how her voice had broken when she had shouted three words, three little words that had been enough to shatter everything. "Who is she?".

She, who admired him so much, who thought of him as a man of the purest and most sincere nature. She had given him a chance to repent. He hadn't seized it, hanging his head low. That day, facing her anger, the pain of a betrayed woman, she'd found him so small that he was almost ridiculous. He hadn't responded, of course. Hadn't said a word.

I will sing to you everyday, If it will take away the pain

She'd stayed. She wasn't sure if love made her do it. Perhaps it was out of habit. Or masochism. But she had stayed, and life had resumed just as it was before, for a few weeks. They had started waking up side by side again, sharing their day over a meal again.

Making love, again. She hadn't even realized they had stopped touching each other, desiring each other. How long had it lasted? A week? A month? Six?

He played the piano in the evening, proclaiming a love strong and indestructible over the keys, letting his fingers glide from white to black, filling the apartment with sounds and colors that had disappeared. Of feelings that had disappeared.

Oh, and I heard you've got it, got it so bad, 'Cause I am the best you'll ever have

She had let herself dream of the life before.

A life where Charles had only touched her, only tasted her. A life where she didn't discreetly grab his phone every night when his breathing indicated he was asleep. A life where she didn't send messages to Carlos at all hours of the day and night to find out where he was, with whom he was when she wasn't there. A life where her sister didn't regularly tell her how worried she was about her, finding her too thin, too stressed, too distracted.

So, she had left. She had left the spare keys he had given her on the dining table. She had fled his apartment and returned to hers, the one she had just planned on returning the keys to the owner, ready to move in permanently with him. She had spent three days alone, spending entire days in the dark. Ignoring the messages and calls of her mother, her father, her sister. Carlos, too.

Baby you were my picket fence,

By the end of the third day, he had finally called, and after three rings, she had picked up.

Neither of them had spoken for several seconds.

Then, he had done it. For the first time in months, he had been honest with her.

"It's not working anymore," he had sighed into the phone. "I can't do it anymore."

She had hung up.

Lain down on the sofa.

Waited for the day to save her from the night.

I miss missing you, now and then,

Now and then.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #carlos sainz #fall out boy #miss missing you

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i-heart-hxh · 3 days

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What if gon and killua and all the subtext r queerbait??do u think they might be

I've answered this kind of thing before, but why not do a refresher? I keep this image on my desktop for when someone doubts Togashi's intentions.

This was well before HxH was created, before even Yu Yu Hakusho was created. Note that he says he wanted to create this gay, crossdressing manga based on his own "personal interest" and that he grew "deeply attached" to it.

Togashi has noted himself to be a fan of Patalliro!, a BL series written by Mineo Maya--one of the few male BL authors, and Patalliro! was the first BL series to be adapted to anime. He has stated that Hiei's hair was inspired by a character from Patalliro!

Togashi has discussed enjoying putting "shojo manga elements" in his work as well. This can, and likely does, refer at least in part to all the gay subtext.

He put Sensui and Itsuki in Yu Yu Hakusho, who somewhat ambiguously seem to be in a romantic relationship. See this line:

He's even said Itsuki is one of his favorite characters in Yu Yu Hakusho.

He's also married to the Naoko Takeuchi, the creator of Sailor Moon, who famously has also included lesbian relationships in her manga.

Looking at how multifaceted and fully integrated into the characters themselves/the story the "hints" of romantic feelings between Gon and Killua are, I have trouble believing Togashi would just be doing this out of "queerbaiting," which is a complex topic in the first place when it comes to anime and manga, because the culture in Japan is different and the anime/manga industries have a long complicated history with queer themes.

He's grown up in a fairly conservative culture that has changed only gradually, and he has been working in decades in the most mainstream manga publication out there, which I'm certain has rules around what he can and can't portray (though the degree to which he's bound by those rules at this point is unknown). It makes sense, therefore, that he's accustomed to using subtext and ambiguity rather than portraying gay relationships in a way that is 100% undeniably canon. He's not writing for BL publications, after all.

To me, the romantic aspect of Gon and Killua's relationship feels very genuine and heartfelt. It's built into who the characters are and how they're set up as characters in the first place (like Killua's birthday, for instance), and what they mean to each other is one of the main emotional cores of the series. The way he weaves this concept into the series in many, many different ways has emotional weight and meaning. It does not feel at all like something he casually added as fanservice or for the hell of it as an afterthought. I think it's left ambiguous on purpose, but the repeated and sometimes quite blatant hints are there for those who want to connect the dots.

As time has gone by and I've read more of Togashi's own words and discussions of his influences as well as considering just how much queer subtext exists in the series (and not just with Gon and Killua by any means--Alluka, LeoPika, HisoIllu, PariGing, etc.) AND in his other series as well, it's only made me more and more certain that he includes all this stuff with full intention, and coming at least in a large part from his own personal desire to include these elements.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #yoshihiro togashi #togashi #killugon #gon #killua #yu yu hakusho #my posts #asks #anonymous #meta #? kinda #this is basically repeating things I've already said but hey #new links and such #new phrasing #I could go on and on but it's a start

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quintinh43 · 2 days

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I love your writing so much oh my god. I fully believe that the time around the campfire was not the only time Quinn accidentally, actually started to propose. It would be anything, how pretty you look sitting at the table in the morning, you helping with dishes. Jack would have an airhorn in his Amazon cart so that he can just use it instead of having to think up better distractions.

Thank you so much 🥹🫶🏼

Y'all telling me that you actually like my writing means more than I can put into words.

But yeah, you are 100% right. After he picked up the ring, it was complete chaos. At least once a day, Quinn would be like "fuck it i love her so much, I can't wait." And he'd be down on one knee, and Jack and luke would look absolutely horrified and immediately spring into action.

Tackling him to the floor, throwing a glass of water in his face, yanking his leg out from under him, jabbing him with their cue stick, literally anything they could think of. Because Quinn was a perfectionist and a romantic. He would've never forgiven himself if he proposed while the atmosphere wasn't perfect, and both Jack and Luke knew that.

One time, Jack and Luke weren't home, and you and Quinn were chilling on the beach, having a little picnic. You swiped ice cream off of Quinns lip and licked it off your thumb without a thought, and then Quinn was kneeling, and by the grace of whatever higher power there was, Ellen happened to be walking by. The situation was unfolding in slow motion, and Ellen was panicking a little. She did the only thing she could think of, and pushed Quinn into the water.

You had laughed your ass off because one minute you and Quinn were chilling and eating ice cream, and the next Ellen was sprinting in the sand and pushing Quinn into the lake. As you were laughing, she took her opportunity to push you in the lake as well, much to your surprise. She then ran away, cackling, while you and Quinn sat in the shallow water ice cream-less.

After the boat incident, Jack made the executive decision that he would be keeping the ring until the date Quinn actually planned to propose rolled around. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Quinn from kneeling and starting to ask the question.

Jack bought an Airhorn. Actually, he bought five or six. He kept one for himself, gave one to Luke, and left a few around the lakehouse. One om the boat, one in the pool room etc. That way, even if the two of them weren't around, someone could intervene if need be.

At first you questioned what the fuck was going on, and why someone was always blaring an airhorn at Quinn. Eventually, you brushed it off as little siblings being little siblings.

That time around the campfire, somehow both Luke and Jack had forgotten their trusty airhorns, and suddenly Luke was tackling Quinn the the ground, and Jack was screaming about a bee. To this day, everyone who was around the campfire still tries to gaslight you about the bee.

Until Jack revealed the whole story in his best man speech. You laughed your ass off while Quinn's cheeks grew flushed, and he smiled sheepishly.

#quinn hughes #qh43 #hughes brothers #quinn hughes blurb #loving you is as easy as abc 123 #sophs anons

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usereddie · 41 minutes

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hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.

hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.

“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”

Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it.

“Him being queer?”

“I think he identifies as bisexual.”

“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”

“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”

“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”

He sits.

Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal.

A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl.

But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch.

“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.”

“But you knew?”

“I wasn’t surprised.”

He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him.

Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel.

Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is.

He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t.

It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—

Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be.

“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him.

“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly.

He swallows.

“Yeah.”

Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself.

He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—

Well.

Buck.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it.

Buck came out and it uncovered itself.

Buck is bi. Buck dates men.

Buck could date him. And he isn’t.

That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck.

He makes him so fucking happy.

Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression.

Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly.

“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”

“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“That’s not my place to tell you.”

“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s exhale is shaky.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

#bia.fic #buddie fic #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers

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bby-deerling · 3 days

Text

7 of coins + the tower (marco x reader nsfw)

and now for something completely different...

this is one of my tarot prompt drabbles that @kazieai was gracious enough to allow me to share with you all <3 thank you!!, i love ya! these are always super fun because i get the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone and write for new characters :)

masterlist || commissions

cw: friends to lovers, afab!fem!reader, cowgirl position

tagging: @fanaticsnail @indydonuts

Content with your simple life and the sprawling greens of Sphinx, you had never envisioned yourself getting entangled with a pirate; as far as you were concerned, Whitebeard was the only one with some sort of tangible moral fabric seeing as he had turned your village in a hidden paradise with his financial support, a far cry from the lawless wasteland your parents had described growing up in. The cloistered state of your village meant that meeting outsiders, let alone pirates, with good intentions happened few and far between—that is, until the new doctor rolled into town.

It should be noted that he didn’t technically roll, he flew, with blue and yellow streaking flames across the sky that had you rubbing your eyes, convinced you were either hallucinating or developing a migraine. Following the trail of colors left nothing but a man in its wake; it was Marco—that much you were certain of when you saw the fluffy mess of hair at the top of his head—but his presence only causes you to swivel your head around, concerned that a gaggle of boisterous pirates were about to follow not far behind. Whitebeard’s funeral had been a solemn affair, but afterwards, Red-Haired Shanks and his crew had drank the entire village dry and kept every inhabitant up far past their bedtime, and their idea of “fun” was quite frankly too much for you to handle.

But thankfully, Marco had come alone this time, setting up a small doctor’s office within his new home, and quickly ingraining himself in the community; so calm and carefree, you nearly forget he’s a retired pirate at all, until the occasional group of bandits attack the village from behind the waterfall, and the phoenix takes care of the issue in mere minutes before smiling to himself and returning his attention to patching up the minor scrapes and bruises of the village kids. Though you had long ago resigned yourself to becoming the village spinster, you couldn’t help yourself from letting a bud of blooming affection sprout as you watch him tend to any issues that crop up around town, including things as trivial as helping you weed your garden or cleaning out your gutters. In fact, you quite enjoyed having someone to talk to who possessed both intelligence and humility in spades, that you end up finding yourself seeking him out for tasks that don’t really require his assistance simply so that you can spend time with him—and that’s all well and good, until one day, he calls you out on it.

“You can just invite me over without the silly pretense, you know.” he says with a smug grin one sunny afternoon after you asked him to come look at a creaky floorboard in your kitchen; to his credit, it was a flimsy excuse, but the wood does let out a squeak as his feet cross through the room on the way to your living room. Tray of tea in hand, you place the refreshments on your coffee table as you sit nearby in your favorite armchair, close enough for your knee to occasionally brush against his, making idle conversation with him as you sip on the piping hot liquid. The topics stay centered around the present, the current happenings of the village; though he sometimes told a story or two, you rarely asked him about his past, and perhaps he liked that your friendship centered around this new phase in his life. Mind wandering as he talks, the laid-back, soothing tone of his voice admittedly going straight to your core, leaving you with a flushed face. Zoning out, you don’t even realize how flustered you look until he snaps his fingers in front of your face.

“You’re spacing out today, yoi.” he says lowly, carefully worming your teacup out of your hands and placing it onto the table. He’s beyond amused as he watches the way your face fails to hide the feelings you’ve been trying to hard to swallow down; your little crush has been quite clear for some time, but he was intent on worming a confession out of you himself. “Any reason why?” he probes, leaning forward with a smug smile spread across his face.

Unsure if he was messing with you or not, you avert your gaze away from him and let out a deep sigh. “Marco, if you’re gonna reject me, just tell me now and quit teasing me.” you mumble out, cheeks heated as you steal a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eyes.

“Now that’d just be mean.” he says with a small chuckle as he cups your face, gently urging you to look at him before he presses his lips to yours, admittedly with more passion than you were expecting. The way his hands trail along your torso is steeped in heaps of experience that you lack, with precision and confidence that has you melting under his touch.

“Such a pretty little thing, yoi.” he muses as he pulls you into his lap, keeping a firm grip on your waist as he rolls his hips into yours. The intoxicating pull in the air makes you lose all dignity and composure, not thinking twice about how things might look to anyone nosy enough to peek thorugh your window when he reaches under your sundress and pulls your panties to the side. Circling the tip of his cock around your entrance teasingly, you bite on his lip as you sink down onto his length, knees buried into the plush fabric of your couch as you rock your hips against his. His firm hold on you makes every twitch of your body more intense; you can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex, let alone good sex, but the way Marco turns you into a feverish mess so easily leaves you spellbound, even more under his thumb than you already were.

“Let go for me.” he murmurs in your ear; with your clit grinding against him with each guided snap of your hips, you’re unbearably close. The vibrations from his words couple with the handful of your thigh that he grips possessively send you over the edge, unraveling you into a spit up, tangled ball of string as your walls flutter around him. Ears pounding and head light, your eyes are bleary and blurry as you come to your senses; he’s whispering sweet praises to you, but as the look in his eyes comes into focus, another wave of heat floods your core.

He's not done with you—not even close.

#one piece x reader #marco x reader #marco the phoenix #x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece drabble #one piece smut

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dazai-ritualist · 3 days

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You said you willing to write another part?! WELL IM ALL FOR IT!!! EREEEEEEERFFHENEN

Ok so perhaps the mother or father of Ken goes a little crazy perhaps they set reader’s home on fire. (It’s up to you if the kids are in it or not. Or perhaps you can make it where they come in one by one.) Reader could probably die from the house fire and end up in hell. Noah could’ve gotten shot while on the job and Emi could’ve gotten murdered(when she’s a tad more older of course) the family back together in hell and reader thinking she was free from Al only to fall into his arms again.

There is always going to be that one angry family member blaming reader and her kids for the death of their loved one.

IMGONNAGETYOUBACK.

[why not read the story first? 😋]

— 6 years after your husband’s passing, he decides that it’s been far too long. and, he enlists the help of a certain imp to retrieve his wife from the over-world.

hell was not all so bad. it was quite similar to the living world, only with the company of the supernatural. as soon as alastor had arrived in hell, it was quite easy to gain power— inflict terror by using their fear of dying once more and take advantage of their greed for power.

but, this was all just far too boring. killing overlords, quite repetitive. and it was so awfully dull to terrorize sinners on the streets of pentagram city. alastor wanted someone who’d fight back. alastor wanted you.

he was in hell though. was there even a way to get you? of course there is. if it was you that alastor desired so badly, it’d be you who he’d get. he’d find a way, even if he had to claw his way out of hell and drag you down to the dark depths with him.

though, it seems he wouldn’t have to. rumor has it there’s a small start up company in imp city. a company who specializes in killing humans in the over-world given pay. might as well investigate, right?

and so, alastor headed off to imp city, finding a rundown office building where this I.M.P. supposedly ran their business. and on the 7th floor (according to the sign in the elevator), he, indeed, found their headquarters.

“oh fucking finally, someone’s using the door for once!” the tall imp cursed out. “nice to meet ‘ya. i’m blitzø, the ‘o’ is silent.” he said, shaking alastor’s hand. “right, my name is alastor. pleasure to be meeting you, my good man, quite the pleasure!” he nodded assuredly as he wiped his hand on the coat. “sooo… if you’re here, you must want someone gone, hm? who is it? ex-wife? did she fuck the next door neighbor or something? c’mon, give me the all the dirty details!” blitzø asked, overwhelming him with questions.

“ah, not quite. you have a portal to the human realm, correct?” alastor asked, confirming the rumors. “yeah, if you’re thinking about going in with us, no can do.” blitzø shrugged defeatedly. “ah, no, no. just confirming the rumors.” he said. “i want you to go into the human realm, yes. and, i need you to kill my wife. i miss her dearly.” he sighed sorrowfully, despite his smile.

“yeah— see, i can’t guarantee your wife’s gonna go down here if she was some sorta saint or whatever.” blitzø said. “oh, she will most definitely go to hell, i can assure you that.” alastor grinned. despite alastor’s assurance, blitzø seemed unconvinced… “i’ll pay you handsomely.” alastor said, summoning a sum of money with a flick of his wrist. “it’s a deal! MILLIE, MOXXIE, GET YOUR ASSES HERE!” blitzø shouted out to what seemed to be a conference room. “don’t you worry, sir! we’ll make sure your wife’s down here by the end of the week!” he assured alastor cheerfully, his demeanor seemingly changing after the topic of money was brought into the conversation. “ah, very well then!” alastor grinned as he shrugged off, dropping the sum of cash by the doorstep as he left.

by the end of the week? he could wait that long.

1939, the great depression had finally passed. without alastor to provide for the family, it had been hard. but, the three of you had been able to manage. your children had grown into wonderful adults, noah taking in his widowed mother and unmarried sister along with his own family.

your daughter-in-law was simply the sweetest thing. she reminded you of your innocent self all those years ago. but, your son is better than his father. there’s no reason to worry at all.

everything was good now. everything is fine.

“ma, you okay? you hardly touched your food.” noah asked. “hm? it’s alright, dear. i’m not so hungry anyway. francesca, eat up, will you? you must nourish yourself after all.” you pushed your plate towards your daughter-in-law, pregnant with her second child. “ah, really? alright then, thank you…” she bashfully grinned, accepting your plate.

“here, darling. let me take claire to bed.” you smiled, taking your granddaughter into your arms from her high chair. “eh? you sure, momma?” noah asks. “of course i am! just eat, dear. i’ll be fine if i skip a meal or two.” you assured your son as you headed up, taking claire to her cradle upstairs.

the small thing was already drooling and passing out in her chair. she had to rest in her crib, lest she get terrible posture. you burped the tiny baby over your shoulder before lowering her down as she clings to her binky, a plush of a bunny in a pink dress.

you admired the adorable baby for a few more moments before deciding to return to your room. but, as you were doing so, a bullet pierced the window, glass shards getting all over claire. “wh…what in the world..?!” you panicked as you ran back to your granddaughter, removing the sharp shards from her soft skin.

“satan almighty, what the fuck was that moxxie?!” a voice roared from outside, in the trees..? “i’m sorry, sir— there was a child! i couldn’t hurt it just because the target was there.” the so-called moxxie reasoned. “well, good job, cause you got glass on the little shit and woke it up!” the voice huffed out.

you cooed to your granddaughter, hushing her cries and gently rubbing her wounds. and just then, these mysterious creatures hopped in from the window. “ow— fuck, thanks a lot, moxxie, you fucking cuck!” the tallest creature groaned, painfully picking out the shards of glass on his feet. the moxxie creature looked rightfully offended as he held his gun towards you.

“who are you? are you here to kill me..?” you asked, frightful for your life. “who sent you?!” you started to grow defensive. “yeah, that doesn’t matter. all that does is that someone wants you dead. so, can we skip the whole ‘begging for your life’ thing?cause that’s not working on us.” the creature shrugged.

you looked everywhere for some sort of escape route. your eyes darted everywhere, trying so desperately to find a way out of this odd situation. but, there was nothing. there was no way to win this, the only thing you could do was accept your fate.

you kissed claire one last time, laying her in her cradle with her binky once more. because— well, that was all that you could do. you went in front of the gun, and lowered yourself to your knees. and with the muzzle in physical contact with your forehead…

BAM!

you bled out on the floor.

and, when you awoke, you were in an alleyway. the sky was red, and it smelt awful. your body felt weak. you stood up, looking for any reflective surface. you didn’t know what it was, but something was off.

you searched, coming upon a window from a store. and, there it was. your new appearance. your skin shined, reflecting in the red sky. and, clinked with each step you took; porcelain. your lips were as red as blood, and you were dressed in a simple dress, befitting a woman of your time.

the bell of the store rang, a red-deer man had been exiting. he glanced at you, curious. “ehh… pardon me, sir. do i know you? your staring is making me awfully uncomfortable…” you told the man. “ah! just as i thought.” he said through a radio filter. “just as you thought..?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“oh, darling, don’t you remember me? it’s me, your husband!” he grinned widely, taking you into his arms.

…

it all made sense now. he had paid those creatures to kill you… for his own selfish desires. from a demon such as alastor, you should have probably seen it coming.

“come along now, my love. 6 years is an awfully long time. we have a lot of catching up to do!” he pulled you along by your elbow. “and, smile, darling. you’re never fully dressed without one!” he sang out. “of course, darling…” you said as grit your teeth. the vomit you had to hold back was almost irrepressible.

and, as he dragged you along, it made you think.

was there truly a god?

a god who was merciful?

because, no merciful god would bind you with this demon in life and death.

EKKK HI!!! i acc have my own lore for wjen the children die 😋💞

— noah; age 56 (he goes to hell for his cover-up last chapter and animal cruelty) he married and had 3 kids 😋

— emilia; age 62 (she goes to hell for manipulating sm people into doing dirty work for her) she died unmarried, lowk thinking that she’d move in with her best friend despite it being controversial at the time

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

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live-laugh-lenney · 3 days

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Hello! Can you write a story where George or Arthur messes up and they like totally grovel over the reader? I feel like they would beg for forgiveness 😆

ohh, god lord. can you imagine the amount of grovelling?

arthur didn't mean to forget.

he was never a forgetful person; if he knew his plans were going to overrun or if he knew he'd double-booked himself, he would always make it his problem to deal with and sort out.

but with multiple video shoots happening that week that kept him busy, from a sidemen shoot to a podcast recording and then back to his own channel before he partook in a reacts video for someone else on their channel, the planned dinner with her parents had just slipped his mind.

when he walked through the front door of their flat, he was greeted with the laughter and the chatter of company. and it's in that given moment, when he sees her mum's handbag hanging on a coat hook beside her dad's coat, that he knows what he had forgotten. that he knows he messed up... big time.

rounding the corner and stepping foot in the open-plan living space of their flat, he was greeted with the biggest smile from her mum and a welcoming handshake from her dad... lessening the guilt in his belly until he was met with a fake smile and darkened eyes from yn. and the guilt only bubbled more viciously because he knew he couldn't dig himself out of this one easily.

"yn said you'd gotten stuck in a meeting with your work team, lovely. that's such a shame," her mum coos softly and she pulls arthur in for a loving hug that was tight and secure, his own arms enveloping her in a warm hug, "i know you insisted we had this dinner without you but it didn't feel the same."

he swallows back the lump in his throat and the guilt felt even worse. she lied on his behalf and made it out to be an unfortunate accident when, truly, it had simply slipped his mind. the smile on her mum's lips made him want the ground to swallow him whole. his eyes dart over to yn who occupied herself in clearing away the dirtied dessert plates from the tabletop - and he remembered her telling him that morning, before he left, how she was baking a coffee and walnut cake for them all to enjoy that night.

"we'll have to organise another one, i'm so sorry," arthur apologises before helping clean up the table, collecting the empty glasses and the cutlery that yn had left behind, "i'll cook next time since yn did this. it smells delightful."

"we had your favourite dinner, kiddo," her dad informs him and arthur looks at yn as she tries her hardest not to let her emotions get the better of her, "she's a good'un, our yn. even baked us a cake."

"she's the best," arthur smiles at her.

and he was hoping for a slight smile back in his direction to know he was off the hook and they'd talk about the whole evening later on... except he doesn't and all he sees is her jaw clench and tighten, her eyes rolling discreetly, head staying low as she piles everything up on the counter beside the sink.

they said goodbye to her parents soon after with kisses, hugs and handshakes being exchanged as well as a promise of taking an entire day off so he didn't have to miss another meal planned with them. except, deep down, he felt the guilt beginning to eat away at his insides and he knew he was minutes away from being made to feel even worse.

the door closed and before he could get his apology out, she was first to break the silence.

"don't speak to me for the night."

"yn-"

"what did i just say to you?" she sneers at him and he stares at her with sorrow in his eyes, hoping that she would come round and give him the chance to explain everything; from how he felt overworked from a week of non-stop work to how he got confused with the dates to how he wanted to make it up to her for being a forgetful muppet. "don't talk to me. i don't want to talk to you tonight."

"if you let me explain then-"

"it'll just be excuse after excuse coming out of your mouth, arthur."

he follows her around the flat like a lost puppy, scared to lose her but also wanting to plea for his forgiveness and to explain, not with the hopes of being forgiven right away but with the hopes of being understood, because he really and truly never meant to miss out on the evening with her parents. stands beside her as she washes up the dishes in the sink, watching her as if he was waiting for her orders on what she wanted him to do, mind racing as he tried to come up with the most calmest way to explain everything.

"the shoot overran. the taxi for the way home got stuck in the rush-hour traffic on its way to pick us up and we were miles from a tube station," he tries to take the plate from her hand so he could dry it and put it away but she refuses his help, placing it down on the side and swatting his hand away when he tried to pick it up, "by the time it arrived, we'd been waiting an hour for it at the site."

"doesn't help me in understanding why you never showed up. not even a text. i had to lie, arthur. to my parents!"

"i know and i'm sorry you had to do that," he places a hand on the base of her back and uses his thumb to rub gentle circles into the tee on her back, "truthfully, i did forget. okay? i forgot but-"

"i know you forgot," she huffs heavily and moves from his touch, his hand still lingering where it was once placed on her back, "please, just don't come near me. don't touch me. don't talk to me. i'm angry with you so please let me be angry with you."

"i don't want you to be," he frowns.

"then you should have thought of that before you skipped on dinner," she retorts back to him and his shoulders slump in defeat, "i'm just so upset with you."

the whole night was spent apart.

and, truth be told, they hated it.

yn hated how she still wanted to be close to him, even though he had made her feel anger. hiding in the bedroom with her laptop opposed to the television because he had taken refuge on the sofa and chosen a documentary she didn't want to intrude upon. she understood how hectic his schedule could be at times and she understood that, sometimes, he was tired and he needed reminding of things... it was a minor mistake but it had upset her and she needed her feelings to be validated and she wanted him to understand how hurt she felt.

arthur hated how he had made the mistake that lead them to being apart. sleeping on the sofa so she had all the time in the world to feel better and feel angry without him being there to add fuel to the fire. it was forgivable, what he did, but it wasn't forgettable and he knew she'd be upset for a while with the situation.

the next morning, he was awake early.

he ran to the corner shop to grab her some flowers, to grab her a card, to grab ingredients for breakfast so he could surprise her and a little goody-bag of her favourite snacks to show her just how sorry he was for what had happened. deciding on breakfast pancakes, with her favourite fruits and syrup, writing a long-winded message in the card that could explain better than he could if she was looking at him whilst he spoke it verbally.

and when she rose from her slumber, ready to forgive him, he was prepared with a table full of a surprises.

"good morning," he smiles sheepishly and she lets her eyes wander over the pile of pancakes in the middle of the table beside bowls of fruit and bottles of maple-syrup, "i made breakfast."

"you made a feast," she giggles softly, stepping towards the dining table and reaching for the card that he'd leant against a jar of nutella, "what's this?"

"it's my apology. i figured i could write it better than i could say it so," he walks towards her and sets his hands on the back of a chair, pulling it out from under the table and letting her sit down, tucking her underneath before he sat beside her, "i really am so sorry for forgetting our plans."

"it's okay," she pulls the card from the envelope and lets her eyes scan over the paragraph of his writing, her mouth soundless speaking every word he had written on the piece of paper, "i figured you were just stressed and tired. i was never going to stay angry at you."

she squeezes his knee softly and looks at him.

"i made reservations at that new london restaurant you wanted to go to, too. figured we could go with your parents," he informs her and she smiles widely, "it's on me, of course."

"arthur," she hums softly, "you need to fuck up more often."

he rolls his eyes and she giggles softly.

"i don't think so. one time, you might actually leave me and i don't know if i could cope with that," he leans over and presses a kiss to her lips, "i love you and i'm truly sorry."

"i love you too, you muppet." xx

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