#wow there went all my rage

[ef-1]

burn your village | female rage playlist

[jorvikzelda]

mothers be normal about trans people challenge (impossible)

[todayisafridaynight]

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon

[inlovewithifsvns]

Did I make this blog just so I can post a wallpaper I made for my MC for @infamous-if? Maybe

Phoenix Cadence: he/they

(The large quote is from the Given movie, just adjusted to be related to Phoenix!)

(More stuff in the tags)

[e-vultures]

you watch a "just okay" 3-hour long movie and at the end you're like "man that was kind of too long. oh well" but you watch a 3-hour long bad movie and at the end you want to become the unibomber

[writing-fanics]

don’t mess with the devil

Part ii

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: angst: mentions of death: death?]

Your movements became sluggish. The wound on your side bleeding more and more with each movement, and swing of your angelic weapon. “Can’t even hold a weapon.” Adam mocked, as she glared at him. Already tired and she looked down at her wound. “Who would’ve thought a fucking human, making a deal with the devil.”

“Was it for dick? It was for dick wasn’t it?” Adam laughed, and mocked. You let out a battle cry flying towards him.

You screamed in pain, as the yellow light shot right through your wing. Your wings started going weak, as you struggled to keep up with Adam’s attacks. He laughed and cackled, taking enjoyment in your struggle.

“Where’s your little boyfriend huh?” He mocked, as more and more yellow shots kept hitting your body. Until you could barely keep your body up, “awe, is he not coming to scared to show his fa-”a fist punched, Adam in the face. Causing him to let go of your chin, but you didn’t fall instead.

A pair of familiar arms held you, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t be here sooner,” said Lucifer, as he nuzzled his head against his partner. Then lifted his head and glared at Adam, eyes fuming with rage.

“Sorry, for being so stubborn.” You mumbled, knowing this was the reason he didn’t want you to fight. Even though, he gave you some of his powers. You were still a human. He nuzzled, his head against yours once more. “It’s okay,” He said, as he landed on the rooftop.

He handed you off to Charlie, his daughter taking your injured body into her arms. She looked down at you worriedly, as you took shallow breaths. Your face battered cuts and bruises covered your face, and your right eye was swollen. Landing on the rooftop, walking towards Adam.

“Huh? Okay? Seriously?” Adam panted, as he stood up slowly. “How many of you freaks do I have to fight?!” He shouted, glaring at them.

Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, as he walked towards Adam. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters.” said Lucifer, as he looked up at Adam angrily.

“See, you messed with my daughter and my partner.” his eyes burning with rage. “and now I’m toning to fuck you!” he shouted, and everyone went silent as they stared at him dumbfounded.

Charlie leaned over, “It’s fuck you up dad?” Charlie whispered, and he looked confused as he raised his eyebrow, “Wait what did I say?” He said, and then Adam flew towards him sending them both into a wall. But Lucifer transformed into a white snake.

You could barely keep your eyes open, as the pain became worse. You didn’t know how much blood you were losing, but knew it was a lot. You were just a mere human, a human who fell in love with the king of hell. Him inevitably giving you some of his power in an act of love.

Your memories of how you ended up in Hell, a blur. You still figuring out a way to at least see your family again. But now that seemed to be in vain. You wondered if this was how it was going to end for you. You wondered, what would happen to you a human dying in hell?

Would you be dead forever no second life? Or would you just enter purgatory?

“So, this is what you’ve been up to since Eden?” said Lucifer, taunting him.

“Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.” He said, as he taunted Adam.

Adam laughs, as he grabbed Lucifer by the tail. “You judgin’ me?” He shouted angrily, as he tried to throw him. But he transformed again, this time into a duck. “You’re the most hated being in all of creation.” Adam shouted, angrily looking at him.

“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer.” said Lucifer, as he made a V shape with his fingers and dragged it downward from his mouth.

“or the second.” He said looking Adam straight in the face, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” He said, as he backed away making a thrusting motion with his hips. Adam lunched at him, and Lucifer transformed into a horse. Kicking him around, “I’ll fuckin’ end you!!” Adam shouted.

Your vision started to blur, as you leaned your head against the wall You didn’t want to die not like this, not without seeing your parents again. Wondering if they’re worried about their missing child, who they haven’t seen in almost a year.

You’ve been stuck in Hell for that long. Lucifer and You, still figuring out a way to get you back. But you always promised that you’d stay in Hell with him, and visit your friends and family once in a while.

Maybe this was to be your fate, dying in Hell. Where would your soul go? You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak your death would bring to both, Charlie and Lucifer. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them cry, you’ve grown to love them so much. Seeing Charlie as a child of your own.

Lucifer your partner. The best thing to ever come out of being trapped in Hell. He was so kind and caring, when he found out about your situation. Wanting to help you anyway he could, which led him to falling in love. How his heart swelled whenever you smiled at him, turning his cheeks red.

How seeing you cry made his heartache, knowing you missed your family and friends back on earth. How when that ‘Red Bastard’ at the Hazbin Hotel, took your hand and kissed him while staring mockingly at Lucifer. Boiled his blood.

A smiled grew across your lips, as you grew tired. You were too tired to even notice the beam of light, heading straight towards the hotel. Towards you. Everything went dark.

Y/n?

Y/n?

Y/n!

who’s calling my name?

[aangell333]

Okay your Spencer smut might be the best I've ever read, could you maybe do one about Spencer absolutely manhandling reader and just like really rough sex. Idk maybe some jealousy or a bad case and he needs to take his anger out on you, just whatever you want.

And like just really rough with like edging and overstimulation and dacryphilia and just very very rough. And maybe some sweet aftercare or something like that

I'm in desperate need for Spencer to fuck me till I'm cum dumb :))

Thank you <33

oh

my god.

first off THANK YOU SWEETIE THATS TOO SWEET OF YOU!!

second off i’ve given the reader a thing I personally have where I kinda cum prematurely during sex 🫠 this means I get overstimulated really easily so I think it’ll pair with what you’re looking for :)

this is utter filth guys. also I KNOWWW some things are unrealistic but they’re hot so shove it.

so sorry this took so long and that the ending feels super rushed 😭

anyways enjoy!

you knew this was wrong.

hooking up with your coworker simply because this case was beating both your asses and sex wasn’t exactly presenting itself to you as a little pink box with a shiny ribbon on top.

the two of you had been going back and forth all day, snapping and jabbing at each other. theories were belittled and intellectuality degraded; everyone knew one of you was about to snap. they expected you to end up going through the dry wall or spencer out of the window.

they would never have expected to… explode in this way.

it was dirty. filthy. you both knew it.

and you both loved it.

he followed close behind you as you entered the hotel room and the door slammed behind him before his hands were all over you. he grabbed you by the upper arms, tugging you harshly into the wall. you hit it with a thud, your head bouncing off it.

you barely had time to get your surroundings before his hand was closing around your neck.

“do you get off on some sick power play to diminish me in front of everyone?” he hissed. “i’ve been doing this for years. you’ve been here for two seconds compared to my experience.”

“wow, prison sure did harden you up, huh. word from the team has it you were a little bitch before,” you could barely get your statement out before his hand was tightening, having you gasping for air as your airways closed up.

“shut the fuck up.” you would’ve snapped back, if you weren’t distracted by your buttons flying everywhere.

the two parts of the front of your now-ruined blouse were clutched in spencer’s hands. his face was the picture of rage, anger simmering in his gorgeous eyes and his lips pursed tightly.

“you asshole!”

“no. you need to be put in your place.”

you’d never been kissed with such ferocity. his lips smushed against yours, pressing them this way and that. it was messy, almost gross the way your tongues intertwined and saliva dripped. spencer pulled your hair from the crown of your head, harshly pulling your head back as his mouth immediately latched onto the column of your neck.

as he sucked and nipped, he pushed your blouse further off your shoulders the lower he went. your own fingers fumbled with his buttons, trying desperately to undo them. once your blouse was on the floor, he pulled away from you, throwing you onto the bed.

“dumb bitch can’t even undo some buttons?” he hissed, ripping your shoes off as you hastily unbuttoned your jeans.

“god, reid, shut up!” you wined as you squirmed your hips and pushed your jeans down.

“such a mouth on you.” he tutted patronisingly, rolling the sleeves of his half-buttoned-up shirt to his elbows and freeing his belt from his pant loops. “I ought to teach you a lesson.”

he chucked his belt onto the bed beside you before forcefully yanking your jeans off. he then grabbed your wrists in one hand, restraining you as he flipped you over. before you knew it, he was sat on the edge of the bed with you over his knee.

“reid!” you exclaimed as he folded his belt in half.

crack.

“ah!” your yelp sounded more like a moan, your ass stinging red.

the juxtaposition of spencer’s soothing hand and scrutinisingly-sweet voice overwhelmed your senses.

“aww, does the brat not know how to take her punishment with fucking dignity? this is what rude little girls get, you understand?” his tone boiled rage in you.

“fuck you.”

crack.

“ah!”

“count it.” he hissed.

“wha- what?”

crack.

“fucking count it!”

“one!”

“good girl.” his tone was condescending, as if he was talking to a misbehaving child trying to turn their behaviour around.

you counted every crack to your skin, your flesh burning as the belt came down on it. you eventually got to ten, your ass glowing red and cheeks tear-streaked. yet, by the time you got to ten, your pussy was soaked.

your hole oozed slick with every crack and caress that spencer administered to your cheeks. you whimpered in his lap, pressing your face into the comforter of the hotel bed.

“you dick.” you whimpered with a sniffle.

a smack to your hot rear had your back arching.

“i’ll show you dick.” spencer snarled.

he spread his legs, pushing you off of him and onto your knees between his. the stark contrast of your naked body and his fully clothed one was enough to have you grinding in your seat. spencer undid his flies and opened them, presenting his cock straining against his boxers to you.

he once again tangled his hand in your hair at the crown of your head before pulling you into his crotch. you let out a muffled whine, pushing on his thighs, but he held you still. you couldn’t move your face from his boxer shorts.

“lick.” he commanded, but you couldn’t hear him over your struggle. “I said, lick.”

it was degrading the way he had you lapping at his clothed cock like a damn dog. your tongue picked up bits of lint from the fabric of his boxers and the spot where his tip was leaking precum was damp and salty. it was disgusting. you couldn’t help but love it.

when your hands came up to the elastic of his boxers, he didn’t stop you from pulling them down. his cock stood up, taking your breath with it.

what he lacked slightly in girth, god damn did he make up for in length. he was huge, intimidating even.

“the fuck are you waiting for? what happened to the cock-hungry bitch licking my cock a second ago?” his words probed at something inside of you and you curled your hand around his cock, squeezing.

and god did you want to capture that breathy moan and head tilt that he released and keep it forever.

but his mood quickly shifted as his hands gripped your hair and shoved your face down onto his cock. gags, whimpers and tears left you as he hammered his cock into your throat, his pace relentless and bruising.

“god, this shut you up, huh? I should have you like this more often. bet you’d love it if I shut you up by shoving my cock into your mouth in the middle or the office, huh? show hotch and morgan what a slut you are for my cock. yeah? you want that attention?” he was mocking you! god knows what compelled you to hum and nod in agreement. “fucking whore. oh, look at you! fucking touching yourself?”

his cock was pulled out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting you to it. ignoring your coughs and splutters, he manoeuvred his leg between yours, angling it so his shin rubbed deliciously against your core.

“wha- what are you doing?” you asked him, voice slightly hoarse.

“if you wanna get off so bad, you can hump my leg like the bitch you are!” he laughed.

anger flooded you, your nails biting into his calf and a frown coming over your face.

“no.”

“oh!”

his leg jolting up to meet your core had you moaning loudly. and you couldn’t help yourself. you started chasing that feeling, hips working overtime as you fully humped dr spencer reid’s leg. that was still covered by his stupid pants!

“aww, aren’t you just a needy bitch?” his tone was condescending, mocking as he lazily stroked his cock like you were simply porn material. you shook your head, prompting him to begin bouncing his leg up to meet your core. “come on, tell me what a needy bitch you are.”

“I’m a needy bitch,” you whispered out.

you found your arms wrapping around his leg as you pressed your whole body to him, still humping him.

“louder.” he ordered.

“I’m a needy bitch!” your voice is pitchy and whiny, almost screaming when he begins rocking his leg up to meet your sensitive clit.

you didn’t have to hump for long before you found your core tightening and your breathing becoming more laboured. you whimpered out how close you were, causing spencer to pull his leg from under you. the loss of balance had you falling into his knee, face smushing against the bony structure.

“wha…” you whimpered sadly as spencer pouted down at you with faux-sympathy.

“aww, is the little bitch all sad she can’t cum?” he asked condescendingly, making you sit straight again.

you sat in front of him on your knees, looking up at him with an angry pout. deciding to take matters into your own hands and stop waiting for his every order, you crawled to turn yourself around, revealing your back to him.

“what are you doing, huh?” he murmured.

you didn’t say anything, only lifting your ass up and down a few times as if you were shaking your ass on a dick. you felt it jiggle, looking back at him with a smirk. his pupils were blown and his hand loose around his cock.

“pet…” he warned and you took your chances.

still on the floor, you fell forward and pushed your ass into the air as you manoeuvred yourself into the deepest arch. you whined loudly as you did so, exposing your gooey, drooling hole to him. where you were sat, a wet patch glistened and the thin string connected to the carpet and your hole snapped. you heard spencer sigh shakily and squirmed on the bed. the sound of a zipper going back up sounded, the rustling of a button returning back to its hole.

only that’s where you’re wrong. he wasn’t squirming, he was standing.

three long fingers pushed easily into your hole, making you scream out. he kneeled over you, almost mounting you as he fingerfucked you. he was relentless, curling and uncurling his fingers at an ungodly speed. your slick dripped down his hand, sprayed over his forearm with the force of his movements and squelched loudly.

“trying to tease me?” he draped his body over yours as he hissed in your ear.

you whined pathetically, hips pushing back to meet his hand. he didn’t stop and you felt your orgasm drawing closer.

“oh god! oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m close!” you yelled out, only for his fingers to remove from your body. “wha- reid!”

“aww, I know. it’s hard being teased, isn’t it?” he asked, his tone as condescending as ever. you whimpered as you felt your orgasm dissolve.

and he plunged his fingers back in your pussy, grinning and laughing when you screamed out and your eyes rolled back. his fingers sped up and up and up until they stopped again.

each time you got close, he would stop touching you all together. he knelt over you and laughed as you begged and babbled pathetically. he was practically mounting you, you hadn’t even realise he’d pulled his cock out.

“you wanna cum, baby?” he asked, chuckling when you nodded and babbled pathetically. “of course you do.”

it was that night that you realised, you’d never experienced true pleasure until you had spencer reid fucking you like a madman.

his pace was relentless, bruising and wild. his hips slammed against your already sore ass and his tip bullied your cervix. tears rolled down your face, making him laugh.

“my little toy looks so pretty when she cries! aw, what’s the matter, princess?” he cooed mockingly in your ear.

“feels- feels so- so good…” you could hardly speak, hardly form a thought. it was too much.

you were cumming before you knew it, coating his cock in your cream. he laughed mockingly at you, hand coming down to draw little circles on your clit. you screamed and spasmed, knees giving up on you as you fell to the floor. he held you up by your hips, almost completely suspending your lower half.

“can’t even hold yourself up.” he grunted.

with one arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand at your clit, he chased his own orgasm in a haze of blinding hot pleasure. yet, you were cumming again before he was, your squirt splashing out onto his legs.

“oh, sweetheart! squirting all over me?” he laughed delightedly. “what a good girl. fuck, baby, I’m- hah- I’m close. gonna come inside. gonna- ha-ah- fill you up- fuck- yeah- claim you-”

his seed spilled into you in thick, copious amounts. you felt him fill you, your tummy swelling a little with the amount he was pumping into you.

“thank you, doctor,” you whimpered out, feeling all hazy and fuzzy.

he was panting above you, head thrown back in exhaustion.

“good girl. my good girl,” he murmured breathlessly. “let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

you’d never been pampered as nicely as you were that night.

*~*~*

“ah! spencer! ah!” derek moaned at you, high pitched and over dramatic, as you place his coffee down on his borrowed desk.

you frowned, trying to keep a straight face.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’d rather you kept your sexual fantasies to yourself. I think that’s something you discuss with reid,” you sniped.

“I think you discusssd a lot with reid last night,” he smirked. “oh my god! just like that spencer!”

“someone clearly wasn’t paying attention. he likes it when I call him doctor.” you say, stalking away.

from his seat opposite derek, spencer grinned at him in a way that clearly said: “yeah. she’s mine.”

@wietske27

[achromatophoric]

Pre-Wenclair. Yoko comes across Enid alone at their lunch table, looking both perplexed and more than a little distressed.

Yoko: Sup pup. Somethin’ wrong?

Enid: I think I somehow pissed off Willa.

Yoko: Wow, Glumbelina pissed off? I can’t imagine.

Enid: I’m serious, Yoko!

Yoko: Okay okay, I’m putting on my bestie hat. *mimes donning hat* So what happened?

Enid: Well, we were just like, hanging out. I think she broke someone’s finger earlier, so she was even in a not-terrible mood.

Yoko: Cool cool, so her rage-meter was reset.

Enid: Exactly! So I ask if she wants a Hershey Kiss, which must’ve surprised her because I’m pretty sure she choked on her coffee.

Yoko: Huh. Go on.

Enid: So I help her clean up the coffee and after that she starts doing her silent pensive thing. Just studying the table, all intense with her cute little brow bunched up. *mimics the expression*

Yoko: Like she’s either solving or plotting crime.

Enid: Yeah, that look! So that goes on for a while, and just when I think she’s decided to ignore me, she gets up, walks around the table, and stands right next to me. Glaring.

Yoko: Oh shit.

Enid: That’s how I felt! Then suddenly I’m standing, because I’m low-key getting ready for a fight. She’s turning red. I’m starting to sweat. And then, you’re not gonna believe this, she says it.

Yoko: Bitch, what she say?

Enid: Please.

Yoko: Whut? No way, you’re shitting me. This is the rude bitch who thinks candy is ‘how corporate America indoctrinates children into the Cult of Capitalism.’

Enid: I’m serious. One-hundo percent.

Yoko: Wow. So like, what happened next to piss her off? Did you lie about the Hershey Kiss and now she’s disappointed?

Enid: What? NO! I’d never do something like that, and— huh. She did seem kind of disappointed when I gave her the Kiss.

Yoko: Whatcha mean?

Enid: After I gave her the Kiss, she sorta… deflated? Like she got shorter. Her cute-to-creepy ratio went wobbly.

Yoko: Uh. Weird.

Enid: Exactly. And the look on her face? Gawd. It was so much! You’d have thought that chocolate betrayed her or something. Like it—

Yoko: Left Thing impaled on a knife?

Enid: *gasps* Yoko! Too soon!!

Yoko: Sorry! My bad.

Enid: Hmph. But now that you mention it, the look was that intense. And that’s when she just took off.

Yoko: Did she throw away the Kiss?

Enid: No! She crushed the poor thing in her hand, but I didn’t see her throw it away. So there you have it. Any ideas?

Yoko: Girl, your roomie is beyond kooky. Maybe it’s an Addams thing? You could have presented it wrong and tarnished her honor with cheap chocolate?

Enid: *buries head in arms* Gawd I hope not. Everything’s been going so well between us. I was starting to think she might even like like me.

Yoko: *wraps Enid in a hug* Hey pup, everything’s going to fine. It was just a Kiss. A silly little—

— Back in Enid and Wednesday’s dorm. —

Wednesday: — kiss.

Wednesday is seated on the floor, her back against the spiderweb window. In her hand is an intact, if tragically compressed, Hershey Kiss. She glares at it.

Thing: *signs*

Wednesday: I was obviously mistaken.

Thing: *signs again*

Wednesday: I blame Pugsley. If it were not for them, I would not have had pronouns on my mind.

Thing: *pauses, then hesitantly gestures*

Wednesday: *turns glare on Thing* How was I supposed to know it was the name of a manufacturer? As if I ever consume this capitalist garbage.

Thing: *mimics a shrug*

Wednesday: I just— I thought it was perhaps a part of the modern dating ritual. A declaration of pronouns to accompany the display of affection. It made sense.

Thing: *questioning gesture*

Wednesday: No, I can dispose of it myself. Now leave me to my thoughts.

Thing: *scampers out of the room*

After a minute, the sound of crinkling foil disturbs the silence.

Wednesday:

Wednesday: I’ve had worse.

[pingnova]

I met a quiet old man while browsing the plant books and accessories at the trading post this spring who asked what I was looking for. Most white people came to look at the jewelry and the expensive woolen blankets, so I guess it was a little unusual how closely I was examining all of the books on plants.

I held up a deck of native plant playing cards and said I was a forager, looking for more guides on local plants. He nodded thoughtfully and said there was a lot of medicine in wild plants. I smiled awkwardly, not sure why he was talking to me. But I reciprocated: "What are you looking for?"

He said he wasn't sure. He pointed to a few books on flowers, not necessarily edible vegetables. "They're beautiful," he said unsurely.

I nodded to encourage him. "Plants aren't just for eating, they're for appreciating too. We need beauty and nutrition."

Now he smiled, mostly hidden by his mustache, and told me he had a community garden plot he had tended for the past thirty years. Wow, what dedication.

Abruptly he says he has one year to live. He's at the trading post to find parting gifts for his son and grandchildren. He says this all very calmly, he's clearly been preparing for some time. And I stare at him because he seems so well and I've just met him. The idea of him dead is disturbing and shameful.

"Oh," is all I can say.

"I think this year I'll fill it with flowers."

He says it so warmly. I remember he was talking about his beloved community garden patch. I'm filled with heaviness and disbelief that he is soon dying and here wasting time talking to some random about growing flowers. But I manage to stammer something.

"It can't all be vegetables. Soft and beautiful things are important too. Especially in hard times."

Now he fully turns to smile at me. Again in my shock I think he's too content. Shouldn't he be raging? Crying, screaming, anything? But his mustache is white, he mentioned an adult son and grandkids, he seems well enough now and reasonably confident in his plan for a full season of flower gardening. Rapid-fire I conclude he's already done all of this and doesn't need it from me. Right now he's just discussing how important and sacred plants are with a likeminded young stranger.

He finally says, "Flowers are a soft landing after a long battle."

I choke out some kind of agreement so I don't accidentally cry. I wish him some kind of luck and awkwardly crabwalk away. I'm not really the king of social interaction even when its not emotionally loaded.

I bought my cards and books on vegetables and looked at the lone few on flowers he had been perusing. I'm in my twenties and don't plan on dying anytime soon, but how much time do I spend being as fast, efficient, and artless as possible in order to "survive" when that survival is never even in question. I have anxiety, I have ptsd, I'm an activist. All necessary and inescapable works of life. But this man had a season to live, death certain, and wanted to spend it growing flowers.

I went back to the register with a small book on flowers. When I'm hunting a forest to learn the native vegetables, I no longer ignore the blooms. If the battle is long, I want to grow flowers too.

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

-----------------

May 2024

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.

“Butter-”

You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.

—---

Get out (LEAVE!)

Right now

It’s the end of you and me

It’s too late (NOW!)

And I can’t wait 

For you to be gone…

Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.

“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”

You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.

How could everything still hurt this much? 

Carla wasn’t having it.

“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”

Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.

You sighed.

“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.

“I just… Can’t…”

“So what just happened?”

Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.

“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”

“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”

Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.

“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”

“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”

You interrupted Carla.

“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”

“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”

You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.

But why? And what did it matter now? 

“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”

“I don’t have to do-”

Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:

“Teen drinking is very bad.”

Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:

“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”

The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...

…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.

This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.

—-----

Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 

Tonight was the night.

And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.

When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.

Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.

He wanted to fight with you. 

And he wanted to make it up to you. 

His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.

—---

You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.

I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now

You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.

Just like it did 20 years earlier. 

—---

May 2004

On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,

“You look amazing.”

You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.

Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.

You were caught up.

Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.

In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.

And Sy was right there with you.

“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 

He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.

“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”

Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.

You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.

“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”

You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.

“You’re right.”

Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 

“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”

You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”

You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 

Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.

“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”

You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.

“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”

You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.

You gasped.

“Sy!”

You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.

Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 

“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”

Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 

You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 

“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 

That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.

Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.

“What are you doing Sy….?”

All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 

He kissed your hand again. 

“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 

Those eyes held you in a trance.

“But one day, we won't be.”

“Oh, Sy…”

“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”

And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.

—-

May 2024

I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no

It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 

Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.

Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.

“You still wanna talk, Sy?”

Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 

“Ye– yeah.”

Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.

You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.

“So where we goin’, Sy?”

Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 

This huge, handsome, hairy man.

“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”

What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.

Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.

“Hm.”

Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 

And he didn’t.

“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”

Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.

But you were grown now. 

And so was Sy.

Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.

“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”

“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”

Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.

“I bet she missed you.”

Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Sy.”

Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 

“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 

Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Ok, Captain.”

Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 

He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.

When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.

Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.

—---

Hit reblog if you like it!

Next part Here

[hanniebaeee]

Flicker

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warning: cursing, injury, kissing

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: When Chris misses a dinner you were looking forward to, it makes you question your relationship. A fight ensues and it makes both of you regret a lot of things.

You couldn't stop the tears that seemed to cascade down your cheeks. Your heart felt heavy and an ache had settled over your chest. You refused to meet his eye.

'Y/N. Come on, you know how -' Chris wanted to tell you that he hadn't forgotten. He wanted to tell you that you meant the world to him. That he loved only you. But he knew that at this particular moment, nothing looked right.

You wouldn't talk to him and you wouldn't stop crying. The only sound in the room was that of your sniffs and little sobs.

'Baby, please.' Chris pleaded, taking a step closer. He tried to touch you, but you hissed at him not to even think of it.

'I'm so done, Christopher. I'm so fucking done with being your second option. I'm DONE.' You say, standing up and facing him. 'You can go and serve your boys and their girlfriends freely. I'm not gonna hold you back.'

'Y/N, don't be ridiculous!' Chris said, your choice of words annoying him.

'Oh I'm ridiculous? You think I'm ridiculous?! Wow.' Your sadness was turning into anger now. You wanted to hurt him. You wanted him to feel how hurt you were.

'Baby, she was sick. She wanted help. I didn't mean to stand you up. At the hospital, she didn't have anyone else to help her-' Chris said, knowing very well that this is only going to fuel your anger more.

'And why is that? Because she had a fight with her boyfriend and was too proud to call him for help? Seriously, Bang Chan. You are something else.' You snap.

Chris flinches at how you call him Bang Chan. But he doesn't say anything.

'My sister wanted to meet you, Chris. She came all the way here to meet you and you went to do what? I just don't understand.' You say, fresh tears making an appearance. 'You could've come for like 5 minutes. You decided to not even call me. Shows the kind of commitment you have towards me and our relationship.'

'Baby, please don't! I spoke to your sister and I apologized a hundred times for missing out. I feel bad for this, but I swear I didn't do it on purpose.' Chris said, sadly. 'Please forgive me.'

'No. I don't want to. I feel like an idiot for always putting you first. I didn't even go home for my last holiday because it was the only time YOU had time. And this is what you do to me. For a girl who refuses to even acknowledge my presence in your life. You should go be with her.'

'Y/N, we work together! She's nothing more than my colleague!' Chris snapped. 'She fainted for fucks sake!'

'I don't give a fuck.' You snap back. 'Why don't you just go and wipe her nose or something. Since she's so sick.'

'That's enough, Y/N.' He said, voice low and laced with anger. 'No more.'

'You make me want to vomit, Chris. Just, just-' You shake your head and walk to the door.

'Where are you going?' Chris asked, glancing at the clock. 'It's almost 1, Y/N.'

'What's it to you?' You ask with a scoff. 'If I stand here and listen to you for one more minute, I'll lose my mind.'

With that, you start walking out and towards the elevator. Sighing, Chris follows you.

'Baby, what's this behavior?' Chris asks, clearly exhausted now. 'I'm sorry. I really am.'

You ignore him. The jealousy and anger were at its peak now. You were usually a very forgiving person, but this was not such a situation. You were so excited for your sister to meet Chris. And your sister was very very excited to meet him, more so since she was a Stay since before you met Chris. And he fucks it all up.

You were blind with rage and the elevator seemed to take forever to just come and huffing with irritation, you make your way to the stairs. You were willing to go down 10 floors of stairs just to get away from Chris.

'Y/N, come on. What do you want me to do? Hm? What can I do to fix this?' Chris asked, following you again.

He grabs your arm as you were about to go down the stairs. He gave you a pleading look. He knew it always melted your heart.

'Are you really gonna play with my feelings right now, Bang Chan? Really?' You ask, your voice shaking with emotion. 'You wanna fix this? Why don't you go back in time and choose me over some random girl? Hm? Can you do that?'

'Baby, I'm so so so sorry. I promise I've learned my lesson. I will never-'

'Save it. It's all just words anyway.' You say and pull your arm away from his forcefully. What you forget is that you were standing at the edge of the staircase, and the force of your actions had you falling back, tumbling down the stairs.

Your eyes widen and you scream as you fall. Chris tries to grab you, screaming your name, but you were already falling. Your hand twisted in a funny way and it hurt so much, you didn't even know what was happening. You hit your head on the edge of a step and your spine on another. Everything seemed to blur as the pain took over. Chris had stopped your fall midway, but the damage was done.

He had you in his arms, and he was calling your name loudly, patting your cheek lightly.

'Y/N?! Baby, stay with me!'

You could see the tears on his face and the way his hands shook as he took out his phone and called an ambulance. The look of fear and desperation flickered over his handsome face. And your own thoughts flickering over your head, and you were way too tired all of a sudden. You didn't want to let go. You didn't want to pass out. Everything hurt so much you were afraid you wouldn't open your eyes again. You wanted to tell him that you were sorry. But your body wasn't in sync with you anymore.

You lost your consciousness halfway through his conversation with Minho. Chris cried so hard, trying to shake you awake. Your hand was a deep blue and swollen just below the elbow. There was a bruise forming over your cheekbone too. And one of your knees was bleeding.

Minho came running down the stairs in a few minutes, looking aghast and looking at you with worried eyes.

'What the hell happened?! Oh my God!' He didn't even know what to say.

The ambulance was there soon and you were taken to a hospital nearby. Chris kept crying and blaming himself for everything. If he hadn't missed dinner with your sister, everything would still be ok. You would be fine. He sat crumbled on one of the chairs outside the examination room, head pounding and feeling totally lost.

Minho on the other hand tried to talk to anyone who seemed to go in or out of your room. Finally the doctor was there and he said that you were doing ok. A broken hand and some bruises for now. But since you had hit your head pretty bad, so you could have a concussion. You hadn't woken up yet, so they wanted to wait and see.

When you woke up the next day, the only one you wanted was Chris. He didn't sleep throughout the night, sitting by your bed, refusing to leave or even move from there. Finally when you opened your eyes and said his name, he was crying again, kissing your cheeks and face and apologizing repeatedly.

'I'm sorry, Chris' you mumbled. 'I'm so sorry.'

'No no no' he said, 'You did nothing wrong. I promise I will never make you cry again. I promise.'

'I love you.' You say and when Chris kisses you, you try to smile through the pain. 'I'm glad I still have my boyfriend here to take care of me, even if we're fighting. Unlike your poor friend.'

Chris had to laugh at that.

'I'm always gonna be here for you. No matter what. Even if we fight. Or you stop wanting me. I will still always be here for you.' He said softly.

'I'll never stop wanting you.' You let him know and he nods, kissing you again.

The door opened and Minho steps in.

'Oh look who's awake!' He said brightly, setting down the food he had gone to get. 'How are you sweetie? They boys are dying to come and meet you, but i told them to wait till you are awake.'

'Not great' you say, pouting. But you smile when he hands you your favorite Leebit plushie (it was no secret that he was your bias!).

'Well, it should be some comfort to know that he cried for 10 hours straight.' Minho said, looking at Chris. His eyes were bloodshot and the lids so swollen and pink. 'He's never gonna leave you alone now. You have no idea what you've done.'

You look at Chris, and hold his hand tighter. Chris kissed your hand softly, smiling.

'Chris, we're at the airport. Now will be a good time to tell me where we're going.' You said, giving your boyfriend a look. 'Come on!!!'

Your arm was finally out of the cast and he had been waiting for this day. Bags were already packed and ready. Minho had dropped you both at the airport and he was still not saying anything.

'Christopher.'

'Patience baby'

You sigh.

But in another few minutes, you knew. You didn't say anything, afraid that you would start crying. It broke your heart a bit, but it made your heart swell with love for your lovely boyfriend. Chris just smiled and kissed you as he saw the realization on your face.

After a few hours of flying, your sister met you at the airport, throwing her arms around you and fangirling over Chris, who gave her a shy smile.

'So you didn't know?' She asked as she drove you all home.

'Nope.' You said, shaking your head.

'Aww, this is so cute!' She said, giving Chris a grateful smile. 'Mum and dad are so excited to meet you Chris. You're finally bringing him home!'

Chris was so shy in front of your parents, and they were so happy to finally meet the man who had stolen their daughter's heart. Initially they were doubtful about you dating a man from a different country, and a celebrity on top of that. They were worried that you would struggle with the culture difference and you would be homesick. Deciding to stay back in Korea had been a big decision for you as you had never been so far away from your family before. And now, your parents could see why. You were in love and he obviously made you really happy.

It melted your heart, seeing him mingling with your family so well. And it made you so needy for him.

Later that night, you pull Chris into your old bedroom and kiss the hell out of him, not giving him a chance to breathe or say anything at all. And when you finally let him go, he gives you a look filled with so much love and adoration - you knew he was your happily ever after.

a/n: I'm sorry, I love torturing myself with these angsty scenarios 😭

[mochalate]

[3] new notification!

msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.1k + 1 min of video (yes, video.) chocolate chip cookies are the way to a guy's heart. (everyone knows that!) a/n: wow I thought I wouldn't post anything this week, but one really good chocolate cake later, I felt alive. Perhaps Atsumu and I are more similar than I thought. 🔔Please use full screen for the video!

[<-chapter 2][chapter 4->] ||[start from intro][masterlist]

Back when you were still at university, you had a part time job at the campus gym. Legally, you weren’t allowed to call yourself a nutritionist at that point, but that’s what you did. It was never anything complicated— the hardest thing had been managing expectations. 

No, you won’t have noticeable muscle definition in a month. 

Yes, you’ll need quite a bit longer than a week to lose ten kilos.

That will give you results, but perhaps a more sustainable plan?

So yes, expectations. You’re in a career chock-full of them. You’re good at managing them. Even when it’s hard.

Or so you’d thought.

Can I keep starin’? 

(Could it really be that easy?)

With four words, Atsumu Miya had ripped open the top of that flimsy cardboard box you’d oh-so-carefully stuffed your expectations in, and now you were struggling to (convince yourself to) put them back in. For the last few hours, you’ve been fiddling with that metaphorical scotch-tape, not quite daring to believe he could be interested in you— and yet unable to let go of that fantasy.

Was it a fantasy? 

You can still picture his flushed-red face, the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes. It wasn’t the kind of look you expected from a flirty joke.

Or…

It's when Osamu has to stop you from trying to grab the piping hot handle of a cast iron pan for the second time that you realise you need to come back to your senses.

“Osamu,” you ask, timidly. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Atsumu.”

Osamu turns down the flame on the burner, and looks at you. His face is neutral— some people went as far as calling those droopy grey eyes of his ‘expressionless’, but you preferred to think of them as steady. Osamu always said it like it was. 

He’s going to give you the reality check you so obviously need.

“How stupid am I for thinking I have a chance with Atsumu?”

You brace yourself for a scathing reply. Perhaps, ‘Next time, I won’t stop ya from burning yourself.’ Or maybe, “That oaf? Sorry, the only thing he’s attracted to is balls. Volleyballs, that is.”

What he does instead, is sigh heavily, and a little exasperatedly. 

“Did ya two idiots finally figure it out?”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“You heard me,” Osamu says, turning up the flame once more. He stirs the simmering broth as he speaks. “He’s been actin’ stupid all week. And you’ve been actin’ stupid around him for a while.”

Oh. Oh.

There’s no way you’re ever putting those expectations away ever again, because that stupid box is all soggy at the bottom now. Soggy, because the raging mix of relief and happiness swirling around in your chest— the weight lifted off your shoulders because you don’t have to pretend anymore—  is making you tear up. 

Osamu hears you sniffle. 

“Aw, c’mon,” he says, tapping off the broth and setting the spoon beside the stove, “you know he isn’t worth cryin' over.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face, as he brings his large hands up to your face, wiping away the tears. “Want me to beat him up for ya?”

(You think he really might be your best friend.)

“You’re just looking for an excuse to!” You say, pulling his hands away as you laugh. 

He holds them up in mock defence. “Hey, two birds and all. Are you going call him?”

You’re already scrambling inside your purse. “I… think I forgot my phone at work.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I take it back, yer perfect for each other.”

“Hey!” You say it indignantly, but his words make you feel warm. Perfect for each other. “Can I borrow your phone? Would that be weird?”

“He’d make it weird,” Osamu scoffs. “Just go over.”

“I— I should bring him something.”

He makes an amused expression. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what.”

“Are you asking me for help?”

You make your best puppy face. “Please?”

Osamu sighs. “Well, he’s been complainin’ about those raisin bran cookies for weeks now…”

“I think it would be best if you don’t say anything. Just let it blow over,” the publicist says. She’s using the speakerphone, and her voice sounds far away. Atsumu can hear the clack of keyboard keys in the background. “I mean it, Miya. Log out of everything. No, uninstall everything.”

“Don’t ya trust me even a little bit?” Atsumu asks. He tries to sound teasing, but his heart isn’t in it.

“No,” she says bluntly. The call goes blank.

Atsumu collapses back on to his bed, legs hanging over the edge. He holds his phone up over his face, staring at the ‘call ended’ until the screen turns itself off, and then sighs heavily.

It’s not that he’s worried. She was right, it would blow over. But it would happen again. And he knows that each time, it would chip off a little piece of you; and eventually leave your edges jagged and rough enough to cut.

You’d resent him for it.

Atsumu unlocks his phone. It’s easy enough to find those pictures of you and Osamu again.

You look so happy.

He doesn’t think he was being delusional earlier, he knows there was something more than plain embarrassment in your eyes when you’d looked at him; and yet, he can’t shake the thought that he’s being selfish. 

The photo is cropped awkwardly, and he knows you and Osamu are close, but he can’t help but feel disheartened, and then hate himself for feeling like that. Were you two actually seeing each other? Was he meddling in his brother’s happiness, your happiness? What did he have to offer that his brother didn’t, save for the scrutiny of strangers?

The phone buzzes.

His eyes flick up to the notification bar. It’s a DM request from one of his new-found confidantes.

(Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do.)

In that brief moment, Atsumu understands his mother, and her panic at the state of the house when guests were imminent. He even understands, as he turns a couple of the trophies he has on display a few degrees to the left, why she would go around adjusting her many throw pillows in those last few seconds. That time seemed to stretch endlessly.

And then the doorbell rings, and time seems to somehow come to a stop and rush forward at the same time.

Atsumu stumbles on the carpet as he rushes to open the door.

And there you are.

“Hey, Atsumu,” you say, fiddling with the lid of the plastic container in your hands, “can we talk?”

(Wow, he thinks for some reason. I think those are cookies.)

Osamu walked her over because the publicist was calling around to find her, when she couldn't get a hold of reader on her number. He was worried about her going alone. What a prince. Divider @/cafekitsune Tweet images edited from here and Shokubutsu Zukan (by Tsutsumi Kakeru). Had a hard time finding the source for that image lol, it's been used in SO many fic headers. Each time I reverse image searched, If found a slightly less cropped version until it ended as the full page. and then i had to google translate this russian pirated manga site. next chapter will be the last + I will post a little bonus from the osamu POV. :)

[foreverisntenough]

Y/N is so fiercely protective of Trent and I just know that when he comes back from matches where he either didn’t play or someone fouled him etc she’d go off on a tangent and Trent would be like trying to stop her. She’d be like “I can’t believe he didn’t get a foul or a yellow card and like everyone saw it and the ref did nothing the stupid ref and he’s so lucky I wasn’t there and-“ and Trent would be like “babe, breathe”.

Sorry got carried away, I just love your series so much 😭😅

I love this! This made me laugh. I feel like that’s their vibe as well. Y/N being in a panic and Trent being like ‘baby chill out.’

TYSM for sending!

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

‘Mighty Red’ - 1.2k words

↳ Y/N is fuming after the Liverpool Man City fixture but Trent doesn’t seem too pressed. *If your a city fan- probably don’t read lol

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

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“Honestly though it just pisses me off because they get away with everything. That’s a fucking foul every time. Like I don’t understand what are we using VAR for at this point because it doesn’t seem to matter. It’s a card! He had you by the neck of your shirt. I would’ve hit him if I was you. What a fucking prick. I wanted to run down there and kick him in the balls like get the fuck off my man.” You rattled on in Trent’s car as he drove you home after a game at Anfield. The Liverpool City match had ended with a tie as its result and you were less than impressed.

“Wow tell me how you really feel.” Trent laughed a little as he flicked his eyes to the side towards you momentary as he drove on the M62. The lights from the motorway filled the car and splashed across your face. He couldn’t help but think you looked beautiful in your rage.

“I should’ve gone down to the pitch to yell at the ref frankly like he’s so stupid. Why are they all so dumb? It doesn’t bother you? Like this is fucking crazy. They are cheating, T. Blatantly cheating.” You yelped out continuing on with your rant. You were fuming after the matches result. There had been a incorrect (in your opinion) call from the referee that even went to VAR to be reviewed. A City player had dragged Trent down onto the pitch by the collar of his jersey after a trip and you thought it was insane the player got away unscathed, not even a card.

“I don’t know, baby. I mean what am I meant to do? I can do my 90 plus on the pitch but that’s the only difference I can really make. Only chance for impact.” Trent responded in a calm voice but with a smug smirk thinking your passion and fury at the moment was pretty funny and definitely cute.

“Well that’s shitty.” You huffed in response. You pulled your legs up onto your seat to sit in a ball, folding your arms around your knees and pulling them into you.

“Well that’s the way it is beautiful.” Trent told you and tapped at your knee telling you the get your feet, still in trainers off his car seat. He hated when anyone got his car remotely dirty and you were not exempt. No rage was going to be enough to allow that.

“I fucking hate them. Everything about that stupid club. You know what else is ridiculous? The dumb mascot, what even is that? Like what an absolute joke of a club.” Your brow furrowed as you dropped your legs back down but shuffled to turn to look at him driving, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Baby, I don’t even know what it is? Why do you even know?” He started to laugh at how ridiculous of a point you were making. You pulled your bent knee onto the seat to get comfortable again and as much as you tried to hold your expression of anger you couldn’t.

“Stop!” You began to giggle as well. “I don’t know why! Okay? But it’s fucking dumb. You know what’s not dumb? A bird. You know what is also dumb that stupid ref.” Your rationale for why you disagreed with tonight’s outcome was dismantling slowly but surely as you got closer and closer to your house. Your argument was crumbling referring to mascots, saying that Liverpool’s liver bird was far superior.

“Birds not dumb… noted. Refs… dumb. Duly noted.” Trent kept laughing at you, reaching over once more to pat your knee not with instruction but with confirmation to your words.

“T… you have to be fuming you’ve lost the league to them by a point before like this tie is bull shit.” You pleaded for some sort of emotion from him. You leaned forward resting your elbows on the center console holding your face in your hands looking up at him.

“Thank you for bringing up that very pleasant memory but I told you I can only play the game.” He responded and your lip rolled into a frown.

“You’re being too calm and it’s annoying.” You finally decided maybe you needed to give up because he clearly wasn’t going to get on the same page of vexation as you tonight.

“If I got riled up after each game I’d be exhausted and just upset. It’s a waste of my time, energy, and emotions. You know all this.” He cooed turning toward you a bit and a sympathetic smile. He picked up your chin with a free hand. He rubbed his thumb over your jawline gently waiting at the last stop light on the roads before you reached home.

“Boo! I don’t want to know about your mindful ways. You should be mad with me.” You huffed. You just wanted to vent with him and yell about how much you hated the opposition. You’d done it before but tonight, even in the confines of your car, Trent was choosing professionalism.

“Okay, pretty girl.” He cooed kissing your lips with a quick peck before turning back to focus on the winding roads leading into your neighborhood. You arrived eventually after falling more silent as Trent pulled down your drive. He parked and grabbed his bags ahead of coming around to the passager side. “To be clear baby… I know they are the fucking worst.” He whispered pulling you into a hug at the door of the car before heading in.

“I knew it! I knew you fucking hated them too. Like we should be yelling fuck City!” you eagerly and fairly giddily said to him. You stepped forward into him and he shut the car door behind you. “Fuck them!” You yelped out into the night wrapping your arms around his waist resting your chin on his chest tilting your head upwards childishly to look at him.

“Fuck ‘em!” He yelled louder then you with a smile as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms in the driveway.

“Fuck ‘em.” You echoed him in the same volume before you fell into a giggle.” He looked down at you with a love in his eyes and kissed your lips. “City honestly sucks!” You giggled in between kisses.

“I love you. You’re a very very funny, pretty girl. Thank you for coming tonight. You look beautiful as always.” He cooed softly standing in the quiet drive illuminated by the lights of the house.

“Thank you, T. Wanted to look good for my man that City players need to leave the fuck alone.” You whispered with some cheek in response, ghosting your lips over his.

“You succeeded and you know what? Tie tonight on the pitch… still winning going home with you off it.” He cooed a response that managed to make your heart flutter. “And you’re right, birds… not dumb. Mighty red. Love him.” He began to laugh, turning to walk into the house. You gasped before falling into giggles of your own chasing after him. He was giving you shit for know what the city mascot looked like when he knew the damn name of his.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough here!

[lalacliffthorne]

failed dates suck. unless you have three roommates who squash every bit of sadness (and potentially the shitty date).

(is this the next/first official part of the whole modern!roommates!batboys-series already? it looks like it... also this turned out a lil more emotional than I had planned lol)

Letting the front door shut quietly behind me, I sank back against it, closing my eyes for a second and breathing out. There was a soft twinge in my chest, and I was ready to just sneak past the living room and -

There was a deep call of my name, and with a wince and a soundless curse, I slowly pushed off the door and trudged towards the living room. Stopping in the door, I felt my heart skip a little harshly when I found all three of my roommates lounging in front of the TV.

Damn it.

"Hey." Cassian looked over the backrest of the couch, and his brows rose. "Wow."

Despite the twinge in my chest, I felt my lips curve upwards.

"Look at you." Rhys leaned back, sending me a wicked grin. "You look gorgeous."

I huffed, grumbling a soft "Don't sound so surprised." as I slid my bag off my shoulder to drop it to the floor.

"You're back already?"

Azriel's deep voice caused something to swerve just a little in my chest, and when I raised my eyes, they met his. He was lounging in one of the armchairs, a crease between his brows as his gaze slowly moved over my face.

"Yeah, shouldn't you be at dinner somewhere?" Cassian smirked and sent me a wink. "Unless you skipped a few steps and went right to do the deed, which honestly, no judgement -"

I kicked off my sneakers and felt my lips curve softly, breathing out.

"He didn't show."

The grins slid off Cassian's and Rhys' faces as I trudged towards them, my silky dress sliding over my skin.

"What?" Cassian's voice suddenly sounded dangerously low.

I just shrugged and sent him a soft grin, stepping over Rhys' legs and plopping down onto the cushions. For a second, my gaze met Azriel's, and the small twinge in my chest did a little dip at the way his face suddenly seemed to have frozen over.

"What do you mean, he didn't show up?" Rhys slid his arm off the back of the couch, his violet eyes piercing as he stared at me.

Exhaling softly, I pulled the pillow away from his side and hugged it to my chest, propping my chin onto it as I looked over at him, feeling one corner of my lips rise gently.

"Exactly what it suggests. We were supposed to meet at the restaurant. I was early, went in, got the table. He didn't show." I furrowed my brows, huffing gently. "Didn't even text with a shitty excuse." Raising my gaze, something skipped softly against my ribs.

Azriel was watching me, all six foot something of him gone from lounging lazily to alarmingly still. His eyes were dark like a quickly rising tide, quiet and dangerous.

"That motherf-" Cassian broke off, and when I blinked and tore my eyes away from Azriel's, he was staring at me, looking torn between sympathy and something that was raging like fire in his warm eyes. Rhys' gaze on the other hand was steely, no trace of the wicked smile that usually preceeded precise words able to cut down even a grown man with a few sentences. Instead, he looked like for once, he'd go straight for broken bones.

Feeling something warm spread gently in my chest, I shrugged a little.

"It's okay." Wrapping my arms tighter around the pillow, my lips curving softly, I furrowed my brows lightly. "Didn't even really surprise me."

Cassian's eyes narrowed suspiciously, his deep voice rumbling through me. "Why?"

I just shrugged lightly, sending him a lopsided smile.

"Experience." Breathing out, I shook my head, feeling my brows crunch a little. "I'm really just mad at myself for wasting my own time like that." I propped my chin onto the pillow. "I don't know, I guess I just - didn't really expect anything from it in the first place, but it still gets me. And I didn't even really like the guy that way, I just -" I hesitated for a second. Silence answered, but I could feel three pair of eyes on me, warm and steady, causing me to keep going.

"I just went because -" Feeling a knot form in my throat, I faltered for a second before mumbling: "Can't find anything when I'm not looking." Swallowing against the sudden weight on my chest, I blinked before raising my head and grinning lopsidedly. "Maybe all these failed attempts are a sign. Maybe something's wrong with me, or I'm just not - meant to -" The words died in my throat, and suddenly, I felt my eyes burn a little.

There was the sound of steady footsteps, then someone crouched down in front of me, and when I raised my head, my throat closed slowly.

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and firm. Then he reached out, and my bottom lip began to wobble a little when he carefully wiped away a tear I hadn't realised was rolling over my skin.

"Sweetheart?" Rhys' voice was quiet but steady, and when I looked over at him, vision swimming a little, he raised an eyebrow gently, his eyes twinkling softly. "You are."

I sucked in a softly trembling breath, more tears beginning to run over my cheek, and Rhys' lips curved as he reached out to wipe them away with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. A wet giggle broke from my throat, and I sniffled, hastily wiping the back of my hand over my nose.

"I know it's stupid,", I whispered.

Cassian huffed. "Bullshit." His warm hand rubbed over my back, and when I looked over at him, he glared playfully, a small crease forming in his cheek. "And if you ever say the way you feel about something is stupid again, we're gonna have a serious problem."

Another tearful giggle left me, and with a soft smirk, Cassian pulled me into his chest, wrapping me up in his arms and propping his chin onto my head.

"Nothing's wrong with you,", he mumbled softly, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. "You're exactly right the way you are."

My breath hitched and trembled as tears rolled over my cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes shut quickly, something warm blooming under my ribs, swelling so powerfully, it almost ached.

Slowly, very slowly, my shuddering breaths ebbed off. Cass was rocking me a little until I giggled softly, sniffling as I mumbled hoarsely: "I soaked your shirt."

I felt Cassian grin into my hair. "Well -"

Rhys snorted the same moment I groaned softly and hit Cassian's side weakly, causing his chest to shake with deep laughter.

Grumbling under my breath, I slowly peeled myself out of his arms and pulled up my shoulders, wiping my hand over my cheek and sniffling again.

"I'm gonna get some ice cream,", I mumbled, my voice still a little thick. Rising heavily, I slipped past Azriel, feeling something warm in my chest when Rhys nudged my leg gently. Kicking back softly and feeling a quiet, sniffled giggle leave me, I started to trudge towards the hall.

In the kitchen, I tried to wipe the residue of mascara off my skin before tugging a container of ice cream out of the fridge and spoons out of one of the kitchen drawers. Pulling myself onto the counter, I exhaled slowly, my breath still a little shaky as I pulled the lid off the tub and buried a spoon in the ice cream.

The cold sweetness slowly melted on my tongue as I dangled my legs, looking down at the dress I was wearing and scowling a little.

What a waste of an outfit.

Sticking another spoonfull of ice cream into my mouth, I raised my head when the floorboards in the hall creaked, and something hopped gently against my ribs when Azriel appeared in the door. The warm, dimmed light in the kitchen made his eyes look like melted caramel, a strand of hair dropping into his forehead as he halted for a moment, gaze moving over me perched on the counter, the slits in my dress baring my legs and causing me to shiver a little as I dangled them.

"Want some?" I held up the container. I didn't blame him for staring. I probably looked a right mess. Hair tangled, dried tearstains on my cheeks, probably still mascara smudges everywhere and eyes red.

Azriel blinked before raising his gaze, and something seemed to soften in his eyes.

Walking forward steadily until he was standing between my knees, Az pulled the ice cream container from my hand, setting it down onto the counter next to me and raised the piece of clothing in his right hand.

"Arms." His deep, low voice sent a shiver down my spine I blamed on the cold counter under my thighs, the usual crease between his brows smoothing over a little as he looked at me calmly.

Holding my hands towards him, I felt my lips curve into a soft, crooked smile when Azriel started pulling the arms of the black hoodie over my fingers.

"You know, I might be a little emotionally messy right now, but I do know how to put on a hoodie."

Azriel threw me a glare that made me giggle softly, and one corner of his lips quirked.

Pushing the soft material up my arms, he pulled it over my head, and something tipped over in my chest when a wave of a familiar scent washed over me, cedar and pine cologne mixed with something warm and clean.

The hood got caught on my head as the fabric pooled over my body, and the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek when he reached out, gently pushing it off my head. His fingers brushed against my cheek when he carefully tucked a strand of hair that was stubbornly sticking over my forehead behind my ear, and my breath hitched a little. Then Azriel took a step back and gently nudged his head towards the hall, the crease in his cheek deepening just a little.

"C'mon. Those knuckleheads can't decide on what to watch."

Breathing out, I slid off the counter, picking up the spoons and the ice cream before moving to push past Azriel, but he reached out, his fingers wrapping gently around my wrist.

My heart skipped a little and my gaze darted up, and Azriel's eyes moved over my face, deep and warm in the light. Then he blinked and mumbled, his deep voice low and dark: "Only an absolute asshole is stupid enough to stand you up." His fingers gently tightened their grip around my wrist as he dipped his head to stare at me firmly. "No one like that gets to dictate how you feel about yourself."

Something tipped over in my chest, rising, and I swallowed harshly as I stared up at him.

Azriel's thumb brushed slowly over my skin, then he carefully let my hand slip out of his and straightened. His gaze dragged over my face, and suddenly, one corner of his lips curved.

"Also Rhys just got Mor to tell him the bastard's name." There was a glint in his eyes that was nothing short of lazily wicked, and my heart skipped high as my own grew wide.

"Crap." I just caught the light smirk forming on his face, then I darted past him. "Rhys?!"

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels

[freedomfireflies]

okok so idk it’s nothing special really but i don’t think i’ve ever actually read something like that and i've been sort of searching for it for some time because i personally struggle with it and well, it’s annoying 👼 but anyway, my request is a one shot or even just a shorter blurb, whatever you feel okay with where H and the reader get into a fight for the first time really, they were always solving their problems by communication and always managed to not get into proper fights. but well it can’t last forever, right? so they get into actually heated fight and harry properly raises his voice at her and there the whole thing is, Y/N is sort of hypersensitive and whenever someone screams at her or even just scolds her, she cries and she can’t stop it nor control it, thinks it’s pathetic and is always ashamed or crying like a baby and not being able to scream back or remain calm. so she tears up and she’s telling him to ignore it and starts apologizing for acting like that and he sort of doesn’t know what to do because he’s really worked up and doesn’t think straight but he also feels extremely guilty. so maybe he like tries to go away and escape this but shortly comes back to comfort her or something like that? i dunno if it’s something you’d be up to writing, it’s totally fine if you don’t feel like it but yup, there goes my a bit of an angsty request!

“You are so fucking ridiculous. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

“Like what? Rightfully curious? Justly upset?”

“No…hysterical.”

You rear back, lashes fluttering as you stare at the aggravated British man across from you. “Wow. That’s what I am, huh? Hysterical?”

“Yes,” he says simply, unphased by the line he just crossed. “Yes, you’re being hysterical. And I can’t talk to a hysterical woman.”

You can feel the pressure against your chest as your throat begins to burn from the tears you know are coming. 

But you straighten your shoulders and feign indifference. “Maybe I wouldn’t be so hysterical if you would just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he seethes for a second time. “We had lunch. That was it.”

“And I said that’s fine, but you didn’t have to lie about it—”

“I didn’t fucking lie, I—” His hands find his hair, fingers yanking at the roots as his teeth grit together. “For fuck’s sake. I don’t need to explain my choices to you—”

“Oh, yes you fucking do,” you argue, taking a step closer. “If you want to be in this relationship, you need to communicate with me—”

“I did fucking communicate. I told you I was going to lunch—”

“With Alex. You did not mention Samantha—”

“So fucking what? What does it matter if she was there?”

Your jaw just about drops. “It matters because she was a huge part of your past, and having lunch with her makes me think—”

“Makes you think what, huh?” he suddenly bellows as he moves closer to you as well. “What? That I was gonna fuck her right there on the table?”

There’s a fire in his eyes you’ve never seen before. A rage in his voice, in his stance, in his expression that you’re unfamiliar with.

This Harry…is not your Harry.

Your Harry would calmly explain the miscommunication and then ask if you wanted to bake some brownies together. 

This Harry looks like he wants to walk out of your life.

And into hers.

“You think I went there to cheat on you?” he continues, taking another step. And with each additional step, his volume rises. “Think I went there to beg her to take me back? To embarrass you? To throw all the progress you and I have made away?”

“Har…” you murmur, hands raising as if to tame him. 

Or perhaps to keep him away.

He doesn’t notice. Nor does he notice the subtle shake in your request as he continues stalking toward you. 

“Is that what you’re so fucking afraid of? You don’t trust me?” he just about shouts. “What? I need to be more communicative, but you don’t have to fucking trust me? What kind of fucking relationship is that—”

You don’t know how it happened. Don’t know when the tears that had been crawling up your throat slipped from your eyes and began pouring down your cheeks. You don’t know why you’ve suddenly been reduced to a puddle of quivering breaths and anxious glances but suddenly, that’s all you know.

Harry slows to a stop, focus flicking across your face as if assessing you. “What…what’s happening—”

You swallow a hiccup and quickly wave your hand through the air, as if to dismiss his comment. “Nothing. Nothing, sorry—fuck. Sorry, I’m fine, I’m—”

“Why are you…crying?” he asks, lowering his voice back to his normal register as takes one more step.

You roll your eyes, annoyed with yourself as you swipe your knuckles across your wet cheeks and huff, “I just…I cry when I’m…listen, I’m fine. I just…I know you didn’t go there to…cheat, I just—”

“Your hands are shaking,” he interrupts, rather matter-of-factly, his eyes downcast toward your arms.

You glance down as well. “Yeah, that…happens. Look, I didn’t mean to make you mad—”

“Why are your hands shaking?”

You swallow again. “’Cause…I don’t do well. With confrontation.”

He looks back up. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I don’t know. Childhood trauma, I guess. I just…I cry,” you admit, rather sheepishly as you once again try to dry the tears still dancing down your chin. “But I’m fine. Sorry. I wasn’t…I know I shouldn’t’ve—”

“Did I make you cry?” he asks now, eyebrows raised.

Again, you wave him away. “No. No, not…not you. I just…when people yell at me, I—”

“Was I yelling at you?” 

Your expression softens at the absolute confusion on his face. “I mean…I don’t think you meant to, but…you did get pretty loud.”

He leans back, almost as if you’d slapped him. “Firefly, I didn’t…I didn’t realize. I…I just…I don’t know…”

“I know,” you offer gently, attempting to reach for him but he’s quick to pull himself back, terrified to have you close. “Har. Don’t do that, it’s fine—”

“I yelled at you,” he mumbles, like he can’t believe it. “I don’t…we don’t yell.”

“I know, but you were…you were angry—”

“Are you defending me?” he interrupts, seemingly aghast. “Firefly, I fucking yelled at you. I scared you, I made you cry. That’s not something to defend—”

“I always cry,” you retort, smiling to lighten the mood but are instead met with a frown. “Harry, it’s fine. Look…I shouldn’t have gotten so upset about the lunch, I just…look people talk. Twitter talks, I thought…they seemed pretty sure it was a different kind of lunch, so…I assumed. And I’m sorry.”

He studies you for a moment, eyes flicking between yours before he sighs and takes a hesitant step forward.

He takes your face between his hands and swipes his thumbs through the tears. “Believe me, you have nothing…to worry about. Samantha was and still is the biggest bitch I’ve ever met. I was supposed to meet Alex. But he fucking set up the lunch with her because she asked him to.”

“Oh,” you whisper, now feeling a tad guilty. “Damn, yeah. She is a bitch.”

“Yeah. I mean, more power to her but…like a text would have sufficed, you know? I can just as easily tell her to fuck off over the phone.”

You smirk. “I do trust you. I promise I do. I shouldn’t have assumed, I just…I would hate losing you.”

“God, Firefly, you would never,” he breathes, dipping down to press his forehead to yours as his eyes flutter shut. “Never fucking lose me. It would kill me if you left. You are it for me, do you understand? You are it. I’m never fucking letting you go. I’d lock you in my basement before I let you go.”

You laugh and playfully swat at his chest. “Ha. Ha.”

He smiles and leans back to see you once more. “Please believe me. She means nothing to me. Hell, even Alex means nothing to me now. Just you. Only you. Always.”

You take hold of his wrists and squeeze, heart bursting with adoration for the beautiful man before you. “I believe you.”

“And I promise never…to raise my voice at you again.”

“Hey, listen…I don’t mind a good yelling match as long as I get a few hits in.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

He grins and surges forward to kiss you.

Hard.

“Good. Now…let’s go make some brownies.”

Thank you so much for the request, I hope it could somewhat fulfill your expectations! It was so fun to write, I’m so grateful you sent it 😭💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[disneyprincemuke]

time to rockʸ and roᵒll * female!driver(s)

“how does it feel to be back?”

the girl in the maroon racesuit smiles at the woman behind the camera. she tilts her head to the side to stretch her neck and adjusts the velcro of her race suit. “i feel amazing. it’s honestly good to be back,” the girl scrunches her nose as she fixes her hair. “so, grill the grid, right?”

“yep. we’re gonna start off with a pop quiz,” the older woman trails off with a teasing smile and looks down at her clipboard, flipping over a piece of paper, “on account of seb.”

“seb?” the girl asks, blinking with her eyebrows furrowed and head tilted. “like sebastian vettel? retired german race car driver now race engineer for the new team on the grid sebastian vettel?”

the older woman nods again. “you ready?”

“pop quiz?” the driver reiterates, throwing her head back in shock. “do i get a prize?”

“i believe so.” she lifts her head with a friendly smile and nods. “you ready? i heard you’ll really like the prize — even if you get it wrong, i believe.”

that’s not something you hear every day — walking away a winner as a loser. “really? i still get a prize even if i get the answer wrong?” she takes a deep breath and sighs with a grin. “okay, i’m ready. ask away.”

“what’s the name of the new team on the grid?”

“andretti cadillac… racing? they don’t have f1 in their team name… i don’t suppose…”

“oh, that’s a really good start!”

“i wasn’t sure.”

“what are the names of the 3 rookies on the grid this year?”

“can i ask you a question as well?”

“sure.”

“there’s 3 rookies on the grid this year?” the producer nods. “all in different teams?” she nods again. the driver puffs her cheeks out and puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she starts to think. “i know mclaren acquired the australian kid — oscar… and alex saying something about logan’s promotion late last year… but a third rookie? another team went for a rookie this year?”

“it was all the rage when they announced it in late january. where have you been?”

the girl throws her head back with a laugh, “i’m not very up to date with racing news.” she bites down on her bottom lip as she gets her brain to work again. “wow, i’ve really got no idea. i wanna go on a whim and say fred? maybe got felipe out of the aston martin reserve spot?”

“wrong,” a disembodied voice speaks. someone jumps out from a coveted spot in the studio with something in their hands, a wide smile spreading their lips and a thud bouncing off the walls as their feet meet the ground. “it’s me.”

the girl in maroon drops her jaw, eyes widening and back straightening. “rocky!”

the girl in purple squeaks and hops in the air. “roo!”

notes: listen,, the only time i'm putting my notes at the end of my fic is now (also because it's giving me wattpad core because that's how i used to do it lMFAO) anyway, @angsthology and i have always talked about rocky and roo linking up and this has been in the wip forever and i'm soooo excited to finally post it

also because this is that universe where i keep saying mocky will end up toGETHER SO HERE WE GOO YEAHHHHH

@33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @localwhoore @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo