#and I’m so scared bc I feel like I messed something up but I have no clue what I could’ve done but she won’t talk to me

[luveline]

you can ignore me for the rest of time and I will still dutifully show up to read your work every day ~ can I request some angsty bombshell x spencer? maybe their first actual fight and spence snaps at her so bombshell r crying and locks herself in their room and he apologizes through the door but still sleeps on the couch and she comes and snuggles in the middle of the night and forgives him bc she can’t sleep? this is so self indulgent pls feel free to change anything you want love you jade

thank u for requesting! —spencer makes you cry. fem, 1k

Spencer can’t stand hearing you cry. He can’t believe he’s the one who caused it —he didn’t mean to, he just got so annoyed at you, everything’s difficult lately now you’ve moved in together permanently because you practically living at his apartment is apparently not the same as truly living with one another. 

He knows neither of you are unhappy living together, but you haven’t fought before, not like this. He stands just outside the bedroom door where you’ve sequestered yourself, ashamed of making you this upset. He doesn’t let himself in. “Y/N?” 

“Go away, Spencer,” you say. To your credit, you try to sound calmer than you are. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Please don’t cry.” 

“Spencer,” you say, a line of anger darkening your words, “leave me alone.” 

He shouldn’t have said you were being lazy. You aren’t lazy, you’re tired. Moving in together has been really hard on you, even if you won’t admit it, or show it externally. He just wanted to say something mean, because you’d said you allowed him to have that ugly armchair in the living room and he got mad —it’s not ugly, and he wasn’t allowed, he’s a grown man. 

He just can’t feel angry about it anymore hearing your sad sniffling. He said something too mean, he took it too far, and maybe he was ‘allowed’. Moving in together is about compromise, and you’d compromised, and he’s punishing you for it. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I– I was being mean and you didn’t deserve that. I’ll be out here if you… if you wanna talk to me,” he says, turning to leave with his head held low. 

He waits all night for you to come out, if it were just to drink some water or use the bathroom, but after a few minutes he can’t hear you crying, and you don’t make any sounds. He thinks he might hear you moving the sheets aside some time toward 10PM, but there’s nothing after that. He falls asleep on the couch, sulking, wishing he hadn’t been such an idiot. 

You let yourself out of your shared bedroom in the middle of the night. The sheets don’t smell enough like him, and you want to hold his hand, and you want to know he’s really not mad at you. That he doesn’t really think you’re lazy. 

Quiet, you walk downstairs and into the living room, where Spencer sleeps stretched out on the couch. It’s a big couch, meant for soft sitting, wide enough that, were you to set a baby down, they couldn’t roll off accidentally. Spencer’s on his side with his arm curled around one of the bigger pillows, brown strands of hair falling into his face.

He’s not a deep sleeper, but you can’t say you’re scared to wake him. You pull the pillow from his arms and sit on the couch beside him, working your way into his side, and encouraging his arm over yours. Gentle, you brush the mess of his hair from his eyes. He doesn’t even have a blanket.

You hold his sleeping face in your hands. His eyes twitch and scrunch tighter at your touching, worried, but you give a gentle, “Shh,” and he relaxes. His eyes smooth, then open, lashes struggling apart, the brown of his eyes dark as a roasted chestnut. 

He whispers your name, tongue heavy with sleep. 

“Mm,” you reply, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You press your face to his neck, letting yourself deflate as you wait for his arms to lock you in. It can’t be five seconds before he’s curling his arms around you carefully, kissing your hairline, the first bit of skin he can reach at this angle. He’s not quite awake yet, you know, can tell from countless times sleeping in his bed. If he were to fall back to sleep, he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. 

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper.

“Oh,” he says, with all the tenderness of a pet name, dripping, palpable adoring, “want tea?” 

“Want you.” 

He strokes your shoulder. You’re the one being hugged, really, but Spencer’s grip gets so tight you worry he needs one. You wrap your arms behind him, close your eyes tight to stop from getting teary. 

“I don’t like fighting,” you say. 

“M’sorry.” 

“Do you want to kiss and make up?” 

He stills. “You’re not mad?” 

“You really upset me, Spence. N’ I bet you know that n’ feel bad enough already,” you mumble. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was being childish.” 

You forgive him. Everybody’s allowed to be mean every once in a while. You’d been arguing, and you can feel now that he regrets it, his hands apprehensive but somehow loving still as they touch your back through the thin fabric of a t-shirt he’d bought you. The front has a silly graphic on it, some equation that spells out love. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m not mad. I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me, so… Let’s not fight again.” 

“I don’t like it when you cry.” 

You shake your head gently, slotting yourself into all his nooks and crevices. Your legs tangled, the couch is an ample bed for two people trying to be as close to each other as humanly possible. You don’t like crying either, not over Spencer, not thinking he doesn’t see you in the light you’d thought he did. 

“Do you really think I’m lazy?” you ask. 

“No, I was being awful,” he says, sounding deeply repentant. 

Well, there’s no need to punish him, you decide, not when he’s beating himself up already. You cup the back of his head to tap your foreheads together, any aches and pains of the bed disappearing in the eye of his softness. He’s gaining confidence now you’ve touched his hair, his hands travelling low to the small of your back, your face once again pushed into the curve of his neck, where you stay. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[aaagustd]

and my man, thank you to my man | jjk

pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: smut, mature/explicit

warnings: he’s not her sugar daddy but… he pays her bills, fingering, p*ssy eatting, slight Dom/sub undertones, begging, denied orgasms, jungkook is a dealer so there's some stuff about that, hating a** roommate, most of this is a flashback

wc: 757

release date: july 29th, 2023; 10:38 pm est

note: not edited bc i’m kinda trashy tonight lol. this is based on the latto meme/tik tok from her speech. “and my man, thank you to my man” lol. yeah, that one. anyway, another cute relationship drabble from me before i slip into my real writing style. honestly, these are just practice for me lol. div cr.

series m.list | main m.list | ao3 version

“Wow. A new MacBook?”

With an eye roll, you brush off your roommate’s obnoxious teasing. Every time Jungkook buys you something she can’t wait to bring up that you’re fucking your weed man.

“Yup,” is all you reply.

But today she’s just got it out for you.

“Hm, how long were you on your knees for that one?” she smirks.

Instead of getting mad, you take a break from your work and sit back on the couch, gracing her with a mischievous smile. She has no idea how far off she actually is.

-

“You taste better when you’re desperate.”

Jungkook moans his words into your pussy, edging you closer to a long-awaited orgasm.

Your hands fist strands of his wavy hair, hanging on for your dear life as he continues to mercilessly sucks your pulsing clit.

“Fuck. Please let me cum. I can’t—”

Jungkook chuckles as he lifts his head. 

“You can cum, but you know what you have to give me first.”

Your withers and contorts within his hold, his strong arms pinning you down so you can’t run from him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it,” he coaxes.

There’s nothing sweet or innocent in his tone. It’s all driven by the eagerness to break you. Your stubbornness has always been his pet peeve, and he knows that you’re willing to lay here and suffer than give him what he wants.

“This isn’t fair!”

Your cries mean nothing to him as he teases you until you reach your peak, only to let the momentum fade away. Sweat begins to form on your skin, and your body begins to tremble with need. You’re close to giving in, but you still hold on with everything you have.

“Shit, Jungkook! Don’t you get tired?”

“Fucking right,” he scoffs. “Tired of your bullshit.”

You can feel his fingers tracing your slit, indicating your impending defeat. Once they slip into your pussy, he’ll control you like a puppet.

“Fuck,” you sob.

He shushes you, then dips his digits inside of you.

“I know, baby. Just let go. It’ll be alright,” he whispers.

Those words paired with the pads of his fingertips touching your spot leave you mumbling a breathless mess.

No longer caring about your pride — tears rolling down your cheeks — you utter the words he’s been expecting since earlier.

“I’m sorry!” you confess. “I should have told you.”

You can smell the satisfaction emitting from his body when he hears you speak. Only then does he take you to the finish line. Your body is taken over by a wave of hot pleasure, freezing your body where it lies on the messy sheets.

Jungkook praises your submission, and licks your sensitive cunt until there’s not a drop of arousal left over. Kissing his way up your exhausted body, he smiles as he reaches your lips.

“Was that so hard?” he teases.

“Shut up.”

When he lies beside you, you roll over and allow him to wrap his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head while he talks to you.

“Why are you scared to ask me for stuff?”

You shrug. “It’s not as easy as you put it.”

“I’m not the kind of guy that fucks you and leaves you to fend for yourself. The sooner you realize that the better, baby.”

“I know. It’s just taking me a while to get used to that,” you express.

“It’s all good. I just gotta do a better job at making you see how serious I am about you.”

-

But he didn’t need to. You understood once he said it. 

You can tell by his approach that it’s not about throwing money around. He does small things like checking your car for anything weird, asking about your day and actually allowing you to vent, and just being there mentally and emotionally; along with physically. 

Nobody is there for you like he is. He doesn’t just come in and fix the problem, he helps you figure it out and if you need help he offers.

He’s been to hell and back with you dealing with your old laptop, and he finally gave up on it yesterday. So no, you didn’t spend a second on your knees for it. But you will be on your knees tonight. 

Your poor miserable roommate will just have to rub her sour pussy to the sound of Jungkook getting his dick swallowed. 

“I’m glad you reminded me about that,” you beam. “He’s coming over tonight. I need to thank him for my gift.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #aaagustd.fics

[ultraviolencced]

you know how parents get divorced and hate each other when they lose a child well it’s like that but my mom to me

#there was like a ‘honeymoon’ time where she told me she loved me daily and gave hugs which hasn’t happened since 2018 and that didn’t last #and now she wants nothing to do with me bc apparently i’m a horrible manipulative piece of shit #me: self harms is scared and asked for help my mom: mad at me like when my sister did she held her and comforted her and called the crisis #response team to make sure she’s ok and im just manipulater with nothing wrong with me #she fucking asked me in not a good tone if i was ok i said no i’m not ok and she said in a tone well obviously no one is ok with this i’m #talking about right now like no i just self harmed for the first time in years im a scared sobbing mess and she didn’t care #yesterday i told her i was mad at myself and i wish she would’ve stopped me impulsively spending bc it’s a super unhealthy coping mechanism #and trigger and she knows that and then she fucking encourages me to buy something then i ask for help and she’s mad at me she hasn’t even #looked at me today like this why i’ve spent my entire life not telling her how i’m feeling or struggling because it does more harm than good #like what are you supposed to do when your mom hates you no i can’t move out i have autism and i’m disabled and can’t work #there were 3 weeks of me thinking she actually did care and actually meant it when she said she loved me but that’s over so now i just sit #in my room alone trying to cope with my brother dying and my mom not liking me and worrying about my sister bc she’s in such a fragile state #all i want to do is talk to her about how i’m feeling and i can’t because it will send her into a rage and she will literally fucking hate #me and want me out of the house #idk i’m 27 i should just shut the fuck up and move on i’ve done it for 23 years i can just fucking continue it is what it is #shut the fuck up taylor

[reverie-starlight]

just some quick suna fluff bc I’ve been having strong feelings for him as of late.

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff!!!! slightly lovey-dovey. still getting used to writing him so it might feel a bit choppy but he’s fun to practice dialogue with <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“rin, quick- what colour are my eyes?”

he looks up from his phone to see you covering your eyes with one hand. in the other is your own phone, screen lit up with some paused video.

“why?”

you click your tongue and his mouth twitches. “because I want to see how well you know me, obviously.”

he raises an eyebrow at that. “do you really think after all these years I don’t know your eye colour?”

“just go with it!” you plead, and then continue with a “please, rin?”

with all the confidence in the world and zero hesitation, he says “pink.”

the speed at which your hand comes down to hit the bed you’re both sitting on forces a sly grin onto his pretty face. your face is priceless and your eyes are as stunning as ever. it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I swear-“

you look completely done with him, so obviously this means he can’t help but mess with you some more. he puts on a bewildered expression acts like he’s surprised.

“no, seriously, I think you have pink eye or something, babe. I thought you knew already.”

you blink and the annoyed look on your face turns into worry. he watches you switch to the camera app and examine your eyes. “RIN!”

he can’t help but snicker and beckon you over to cuddle into his side. you do, despite being cross with him, and he soothes you with a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry baby, it was too easy. of course I know the colour of your eyes.”

you roll them and nod a bit, sulking.

he blinks and tries to figure out what’s happening in front of him before realizing there‘s probably something else going on. he thinks back to the paused video he saw on your screen earlier and recalls that it was one of those street interviews that tests couples.

he’s seen them, of course, and has always made fun of the guys who don’t even know the most basic shit about their partners.

and then something clicks in his brain. are you scared he’s like them? you should know by now that he’s not, but he knows that sometimes doubt and insecurity creep in against your will, so he holds you tighter and flicks your forehead.

“I know you like the back of my hand, eye colour included. I’m always paying attention to you, even when you don’t realize it.”

you nod again, but you don’t look completely convinced yet. he scratches his chin as he thinks some more of how to make you feel better.

plan A is to flirt, because as much as you deny it, he knows you secretly like the attention and compliments he gives you.

he tilts your chin up to look at him and smiles a little, examining your eyes. “yup, still the prettiest shade I’ve ever seen. I never get tired of looking into them.”

you can’t hold the eye contact for long (you never can and he absolutely adores it) and gently pry his hand off so you can turn away.

“stoppp,” you say in a voice that makes it clear to him you don’t mean it.

because he knows you and all of your cues and he’ll spend every day proving it to you if he needs to.

“getting shy on me? you were so fiery earlier, what happened?”

you knock your forehead against his shoulder. “shut up.” there’s a smile in your voice now and he doesn’t even need to look at you to confirm that fact.

“nah, I’ll keep going. I hate to say it ‘cause you need to be humbled sometimes, but you’re, like, really hot or whatever.”

your head shoots up and you gape at him. “I need to be humbled?” there’s the hint of a laugh at the end of your sentence and he just shrugs.

“hey, I’m not the one who gets off on messing with their partner.”

you gasp and do let out a laugh this time, hitting his shoulder. “yes you are, you dick!”

and you allow the slander because you know suna, too. this is his way of acknowledging that you’re upset, not bringing it up and bringing you out of that state without being dismissive. he always knows exactly what you need and how to make it better.

after a few more minutes of back and forth, you’re giggling into his chest and he’s just smiling up at the ceiling while rubbing your back. a familiar warm feeling settles in his heart.

“better?” he asks.

you sigh happily against him and he feels you nod.

“good, because plan B was pretending to fall off the bed and hoping you laugh.” he’s half joking, but if it really comes down to it, he knows he’d bend over backwards to see you happy.

you snort, but you feel fuzzy at his words. you seem to realize the same thing going through his mind in that moment.

“thank you.”

he’s not sure if you’re thanking him for cheering you up or for simply knowing you, but his response covers both meanings anyway.

“my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he’s insufferable and I love him and this kinda sucks but in my defence I wrote it last night in like twenty-five minutes.

@dira333 here’s your tag!!!

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #suna x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x y/n

[sweatervest-obsessed]

okay so i'm thinking post!prison reid and reader break up bc he's not ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened in prison. they just don't get back together bc when spence is finally ready it's been a while and they both think it's too late and no one makes a move and they remain as friends UNTIL jj's love confession brings some feelings back onto the surface - reader finds out about it and (cue jeid and their weird, longing glances🥲) has a whole it's all really over moment and then there's distance between her and spencer until there's a confrontation about it and BAM a love confession and second chances😁😁

THIS IS SUCH A MESS but i hope you get my point</33

Um yeah so, absolutely. Some angst for you indeed. I love a convoluted and angsty fight, especially whenever someone is arguing in circles with someone else because they're both just so passionate but angry, anyways, heheh, enjoy!!

WC: 1.5k

TW: Arguing, mentions of violence, mentions of prison, mentions of guns, honestly if you watched CM then that is your TW.

“I just want to know why you’ve been so distant lately. I mean, this is the first time I’m speaking with you one on one in over a week, and it’s because I manage to catch you in the office at nine fucking pm Y/n.”

"So what do you want me to say, Spence? What could I possibly have to say to you? I'm pretty sure Jennifer said everything there is to say."

This caused Spencer to lose all of the oxygen in his body. It froze up. You weren’t supposed to know what JJ had said, no one was supposed to know what JJ had said. 

You and Spencer were in the bullpen of the BAU. Luckily for both of you, since it was so late, no one else was there. Neither of you were extremely public when it came to your relationship, which meant neither of you would have chosen to have this conversation fight in a public place, but no one else was around.

I want you to say something you're afraid to say. Something you'd never tell anybody. And you better make it good. Cause if it's not, it's going to be the last thing you ever say. What's it gonna be?

“How did you know about that?” He whispered. 

“JJ asked Garcia to go through the footage, apparently she wanted to make sure no one could ever access the audio from it.”

"Y/n I--" Spencer closed his eyes, his jaw set. He didn’t even know what to say at this point. You had both clearly made up your minds about this, yet neither of you wanted to see the carnage, the outcome of it all. So, instead, you chose to stand in the middle of the bullpen, fighting against one another.

Fighting for one another.

"I just don't understand why you're so upset about this."

“Spencer–you didn’t even tell me about it, I had to find out about it from Penelope, and who knows who else she told. You were afraid to tell me, yet that giant genius brain of yours can’t, oh I don't know, comprehend just a teeny tiny little bit why this makes me upset?" For the millionth time this evening, you scoffed. 

Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I'll kill him.

"Y/n--"

Spence, I've always loved you. I was just too scared to say it before, and now things are really just too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.

"Fuck Spencer I have been in love with you since I first fucking joined this team." You gasped out. The air around your head got thinner and felt dizzying like you were floating through the air now that this was off your chest. "And I loved you when you asked me on a date. I loved you through Emily's death. I loved you when you asked me to move in with you. I loved you through when Morgan left the team. I loved you through Hotch leaving. I loved you through fucking Cat Adams. I loved you even after I came home one night and you were making out with her against our fucking door. I loved you through every single case and every single flaw. I loved you when you fucking relapsed a few years ago. I even loved you when you went MIA for weeks and then found out you were in a fucking Prison. And I still fucking love you now. But, instead of being together, you asked for a break."

"That's not fair..." He whispered.

"What? Respecting you and your boundaries? Knowing that you needed time to readjust after you had been released, and believing in your promise that once you felt ready to try a relationship again you'd come to me and talk to me about it? And then watching as you fall for JJ all fucking over again? With your stupid fucking glances. This isn't a goddamn tv show Reid, I can see when you both stare at one another across the room, I can see it."

"We don't.."

"You do. You both do. And then, you tell me that Jennifer fucking Jareau is willing to make her last words the fact that she has always loved you and has always been in love with you, and you---" Your voice froze, the sound cutting out. You looked straight at Spencer, not caring about the tears running down your cheeks. You watched as his hand twitched up. When the two of you were dating, Spencer used to wipe away every single of your tears. But now he wouldn't even lift his hand.

"I--what."

You took another breath, trying to calm down, and really think through your words. "This woman who has been your best friend for over a decade just fucking confessed her love for you, in a life-or-death situation, and you're telling me, that she just fucking made it up, pulled it out of her ass, or at least is telling you that she did and now the two of you are going to act like everything is normal and okay?"

"Y/n..."

"You were in love with her for years Spencer. And now, all of a sudden she confesses her love to you, and that changes nothing?"

"No, Y/n, it doesn't. It changes nothing. Does it hurt a bit? Yes. Does it change the fact that I love you? No." Spencer was trying to keep his voice level, hoping you'll continue to match his volume since he didn't want anyone to potentially stumble by and hear your argument. His hand reached for your wrist, but you couldn't bear to feel his skin against yours.

This caused you to let out a water laugh, tears sliding into your mouth, ugly but pouring down your cheeks. A waterfall of grief in all of its rawest forms.

"You still love me."

"Why-Why is that funny."

"I have been waiting to hear those words since you walked out of that fucking prison and the first time I hear it in years, it's because you're trying to justify loving someone else."

"That's not true."

Make it a million and one, you scoffed.

"I have loved you since the moment you first walked through those doors. You were in a pale blue pair of pants, and a black sweater--I remember it because Emily complimented the pants. I spend my whole life loving you and manage to never fully give you every single piece of love I have because there's simply not enough time in the world. I would kill for you. I would go to prison all over again if it meant you would be okay in this world." Spencer ran a hand through his hair, his voice strained. But his eyes never left yours. "Last week, when that unsub had his gun against your head, I fired before he even spoke, not because I assessed it was the right time or whatever fucking excuse I gave to Emily. I fired that bullet because if you died in front of me, I'd......The only thing I was thinking about the entire fucking time JJ and I were stuck in that room was how the fuck I was going to be able to tell you I love you one last time because I wasn't fucking smart enough to take my chance and say it to you every single day."

Your chest was heaving, but you didn't move towards him. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel real.

Spencer was able to take your hand in his, enclosing it between both of his, trying to get you to look at him. "I should have told you the moment I was ready to try a relationship again, but I thought you...I thought you had moved on because I wasn't worth waiting for."

This caused you to laugh again, eyes red from crying. "Don't fucking start with that shit Spencer.''

"I'm telling the god's honest truth."

"I waited for you throughout all of Prison. I waited for you through Maeve. I am still pathetically standing right fucking in front of you, waiting for you to hopefully realize that you still love me."

He kissed your hand. "And I don't deserve you at all for it."

"Do you still love her?"

"Y/n."

"Answer the question, Spencer. Or I'm done. I-I can't do this any longer, watching you....the way she looks at you just--"

Spencer pulled you into his arms, enclosing your body in his arms and kissing the side of your head. "I have always, and will always, love you Y/n Y/l/n. And I want to spend the rest of our lives proving to you that I would choose you, I want you, over and over again."

“That’s not an answer Spencer.” You whispered, rigid in his arms.

“I-I.” He closed his eyes. “I did. And I still do love her, but not like that. I haven’t been i-in love with her since the moment you walked through those doors.”

Spencer felt the weight of your head against his shoulder as you finally conceded and hugged him back, tightly. “Let's go home.” He muttered into your head, waiting patiently for you to hum in agreement. 

Neither of you moved though. You both stood there, locked eternally in the other’s embrace, enjoying the peace you felt for the moment, even though tomorrow was a new day, where you would have to sort through how you really felt about all of this. 

But tonight, you stood with your arms around your love, forever.

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid x y/n angst #Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader #spencer reid masterlist #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x male reader

[wandasfifthwife]

silence leads to destruction

paring: CEO!Wanda x reader

tw: estblashed relationship (married), r sells art pieces to make money, r is scared of rejection and spirals over nothing, strong heavy fluff, hurt/comfort, happy ending, minor injury (r), reader cuts finger with a knife on cutting board, sappy love confessions bc i said so, suggestive comment at the end but nothing happens

a/n: hi! I wanted to dabble in writing something for Wanda that ISNT smut for once. I read this over once to notice any big mistakes, but it’s not thoroughly proofread. As always, enjoy my shitty writing! 🥳

* золотце = sweetheart and жизнь моя = my world

‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿

With love comes understanding, usually.

That’s how conversation was direct between the two of you, it eased your nerves knowing that she would validate any issue you brought to her and wish to talk it through. Mainly they were initiated by Wanda, but you both took the time to mention if something were upsetting you.

This is the first time it’s crumbled since you’ve been married. It might be because it felt it was directed at you and not just an accident like leaving the water on.

She had just arrived home, finding you making dinner.

“Hey,” she kisses your cheek, smiling into it when you lean into her body.

“Hey you,” you turn your face to kiss her properly, “how was work?”

She grumbles as usual, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“A new hire ruined our campaign by sending in the draft files to the company.”

“I’m sorry baby.”

She re-positions the knife in your hands to not aim over your fingers before continuing, “skill sets are crucial to know during the hiring process, and yet people still lie on applications and say they’re detailed and reliable when in reality they’re aloof and spontaneous.”

It felt stupid to be hurt by her words only because you had something in common with the new hire, your personalities.

“I wouldn’t say they’re lacking basic thinking skills,” you spoke, beginning to defend yourself through the employee, “just a mistake.”

“It could’ve been avoided if they had looked it over twice, but they didn’t and now we may have just lost over 20 grand.”

“It’s a mistake, we make them all the time. I know you’re thinking of firing them, but why not give them a chance?”

“I did and they messed it up again.”

“Why is this hire any different than the others who make mistakes?”

“It’s not just a simple mistake, золотце, it’s a personality difficulty. The others in the department have made a similar mistake once during their ten year term while they’ve made three within their first month.”She moves around you to help stir around the food on the stove, “it would’ve been excused if they were a personality hire.”

An ugly apprehension settled within yourself, “so if someone’s personality gets in the way of work you fire them?”

She agrees from behind you, taking care to turn the nob down so the food doesn’t burn, unaware of how you were blinking away tears.

It shouldn’t have bothered you, but your mind was nothing short of cruel. Often it would have its way and twist words Wanda has said into something entirely different.

All stemming from the motion that she would find out how terrible you were and leave, and you didn’t want her to leave.

You settled on keeping it to yourself, already feeling like you’ve used up all your sympathy cards for this week. Not wanting to seem needy for her affection, you shut it off.

“How was your day, жизнь моя?”

“Good, I can’t complain. I made a couple sales.”

She turned back to face you, “I’m so proud of you.”

She was leaving with a phone pressed to her ear. Undoing the knot the new hire had caused was going to take up her time outside of her office hours.

She paced around the room, tone tense and trying not to yell. Your blurry attention stayed on the dinner in front of you as you tried to look as if everything wasn’t falling apart internally.

Was she going to leave you alone if she found out you made faulty mistakes too?

You gasped with the knife cut through your index finger and everything was just too much. You were quick to turn your back to Wanda, finding the sink and running cold water over the cut.

Tears fell down your face until it had turned into a quiet sob. It was entirely unfair to compare her like the others, she loved you, but the past was cruel in reminding you how things had tended to end. You were entirely too aware of when she ended the call and how the room went silent when she realized you were crying.

“What’s wrong,” she coos, placing a hand on your back as she comes beside you.

“I just cut my finger open again,” you deflect, trying and hoping your smile would be enough but after 5 years together you should have known she’d be able to tell.

The hand on your back moved to your waist, pulling your back to rest against her chest. She reached from behind you, grabbing a towel and holding it over your small cut.

“I’m not mad at you,” she murmured into your neck, kissing it gently, “and I’m certainly not leaving you.”

“But I don’t think the way you do, I’m not detailed about anything. You married the wrong person.”

She called your name, spinning you to face her. “I never want to hear you say that again. I have never once thought I married the wrong person, do not ever think or say that again.”

You apologize, body timid in her hold. She moves her head so you look her back in the eyes, “I love you. I love your expressions when you’re painting, I love waking beside you in the morning, I love how careful you are with others.”

She continues her ramble, tears building in her own eyes, another cry forming in your throat at the sight of her getting worked up.

“I love you too,” you whisper and she smiles, moving forward to kiss you. Your arms wrap around her, tilting your head to kiss deeper. Her hands grab your waist and push you into her as it turns into something more.

“I want to show you how much I love you,” she whispers against your lips. It made you smile, whispering against hers of how you needed her to.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you

[noosayog]

003 the grudge

✧ wc: 4.1k

✧ warnings/content: itoshi rin x reader, no gendered pronouns used but lease lmk if I missed any! sfw, angst to fluff (hopeful ending), arguments and lots of swearing. another fic where I project bc of messed up things my old romantic partners have said to me, hope y'all enjoy!

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

“How come you never ask me how my day is?” you ask. It’s quiet, like you’re scared of how he will respond. But you can’t help it. Every day, when Rin comes home from practice, you’re there to greet him at the door. You always have dinner ready no matter how tired you are. And every day, Rin grunts. On a good day, he gives you a peck on the cheek. On bad days, he throws his gym bag down and heads straight for the bath. Then, he comes to sit at the dinner table and eats silently. 

Just once, you’d like him to ask you how your day was. Maybe come home with flowers or a cake from the neighborhood bakery occasionally. You wouldn’t think it too much to ask, but the years of this routine make your question your every thought. You start to forget that being in a relationship shouldn’t consist of you walking on eggshells every day.

Rin looks up from his meal, swallowing before responding, “because you always tell me whether or not I ask.” 

It’s a reasonable response. But it’s cold and callous. Not the answer you were looking for. 

“But why can’t you just ask?”

He cocks his head. Confused, not annoyed. 

Not yet at least. 

“Why would I? If there’s something you wanna tell me, just say it.” 

“I just want you to want to ask sometimes. Makes me feel less like I’m forcing you to listen to me.” 

“You’re not.”

“I know, but that’s not the point.” 

“So what’s the point then?” 

You recognize the change in his tone. He’s starting to become irritated. 

“The point is that I just want you to show you care sometimes. Without having me to ask you to do it.” 

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear all the same. 

“Is it that unreasonable for me to ask that of you?” 

“Fine. How was your day?” he grits out, forcing a smile that looks more like he’s baring his teeth at you. 

“Rin, this isn’t what I want.” 

He puts his chopsticks down loudly. “You just said that’s what you wanted. So I’m doing it.”

“Not like this, Rin,” you say frustratedly, not sure how else you can communicate. “I just want you to want to be here with me. Act like you’re my boyfriend and that you’re happy to do it.” 

“I wouldn’t be here, living with you, if I didn’t. What else do you want from me?”

It’s condescending and patronizing. It makes you feel like you are being the childish one here. 

“Is it so hard that once in a while, you do something extra to show it?” you ask, voice small. “Like getting me flowers or even surprising me with a treat from the bakery I like?” 

Rin runs a hand down his face, not even bothering to hide how foolish he thinks this conversation is. You feel the sting behind your eyes start to build. 

“If you want flowers and a cake or something, just tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader. How would I know you want those things unless you tell me?” 

“I’m not saying I want flowers or a cake specifically. But-” 

“Then what do you want!” He's yelling now. “I’m telling you I’ll buy the damn flowers if you ask. You’re always expecting people around you to read your mind. Use your fucking words!” 

At that, you shrink away, closing in around yourself as you recall the phone call between the two of you months ago, having very much the same conversation. 

“You always expect the people around you to read your mind. Why don’t you use your fucking words when you want something?” 

That’s unfair, you think. In every other situation, you would agree. You do have a problem with communicating what you want. You know that. But should you really have to ask to have Rin tell you he loves you once in a while? For him to just show he cares by taking initiative and doing something nice for you? To want him to want to do something for you, even as simple as asking how your day was when he gets home without you having to ask? 

But your insecurities get the best of you and objectively, he’s right. You answer in a small voice, “Sorry, Rin.” 

There’s silence on the other line and for one second, you think that he’s going to apologize too and the floodgates would open and you two would open up and share everything that’s been building up. 

Instead, you hear a click. Rin had cut the line. 

When you have nothing else to say, Rin stands up, storming towards the bedroom, muttering, “Jesus, you’re always like this. Don’t start an argument if you can’t finish it.” 

The bedroom door slams. 

– 

Rin is used to silence, prefers it actually. He gets enough noise from the daily racket the Blue Lock team makes. So at night, when he comes home to you, he appreciates the way you let him be. He’s content to sit there, listening to you talk quietly about your day. Your voice is a soothing one in comparison to the rowdy, grating ones of his teammates. 

So when you ask him to take initiative to start the conversation sometimes, he’s uncomprehending. Your daily routine is fine as is; don’t his nods and noises of acknowledgement show that he’s listening to you? He gets enough nagging from Isagi and Bachira to talk more; he really doesn’t need to hear it at home too. 

He can’t understand what it is you want him to do, because you were the one who strong-armed yourself into his life, persistent in trying to converse with him at the coffee shop you both frequented, until he finally asked you out on a date. You were always the one to initiate conversation. 

So when you propose change to the relationship dynamic, Rin feels like you’re throwing a big wrench in the cogs that seem to be working perfectly fine. 

After a long, hot shower, Rin goes back into the bedroom, expecting to find you curled up in bed. Rin isn’t worried. Regardless of whether you were still sulking or ready to go back to your usual self, he knows from experience that he just needs to reach his arms out and you would be eagerly pushing yourself into his side of the bed to get as close as you possibly can. 

But when he enters the bedroom, the room is empty and the beddoor he slammed shut before remains closed. It’s then that he hears some shuffling in the living room, a couple of muffled sniffles and the quiet click of a door shutting. That wasn’t the sound of the spare bedroom door. That’s the sound of the front door. 

Immediately, Rin bolts out to the kitchen. There, he finds all the dishes cleaned and put away, the dining table wiped down. You are not to be found. 

Waves of frustration wash over him again. If you were going to be so upset about this, why won’t you just come find him and tell him? Rin thinks you could not have proved his point from your earlier argument any better than just up and leaving in a tantrum. 

He should call, he thinks. If it were him, he’d just prefer space, quiet, and some alone time, but knowing you, he thinks you’d appreciate at least a gesture. 

No, he rethinks. Just give them some time to calm down. 

Pushing down the wave of worry, he slumps onto the couch, telling himself you’ll come home soon. The seconds drag by like hours so he puts on game footage to rewatch to pass the time. The seconds do not pass by any quicker as he continues to glance at his phone between plays. 

Finally, he can’t handle it anymore and dials your number. The line rings once, twice, then he hears buzzing from the kitchen. Rin walks towards the source of the sound and finds your phone on the kitchen counter. It sits there, the buzzing continuing, mocking him. 

Rin lets it ring for a couple of moments longer before he grabs a coat and bolts out the door. 

Stupid! Who leaves without their phones? 

It’s well after sunset and dark outside. Even if the two of you live in a nice neighborhood, you should know better than to wander around by yourself after dark. Without your phone no less. 

How long has it been since you’ve left? 

As he runs by all the convenience stores in the area and the minutes go by without being able to find you, his irritation at your irresponsibleness morphs into guilt. He should’ve come out much sooner to find you, shouldn’t have let you cry by yourself. Now you’re out somewhere, crying all alone on the night streets of Tokyo. Irrational panic wells up in his chest at the thought of someone taking advantage of your vulnerable state. 

When he exhausts all of his options, he sighs, knowing the only place left unchecked is one of your friend's places. The same friends who he knows dislike him. The same ones who think you can do better. 

He reluctantly pulls out his phone to give your friends a call; if they pick up, he’ll come get you and the two of you will go home together. But the first thing that greets him is a text saying you’re fine and that you are indeed at a friend’s place to crash for the night. Unsure of where that leaves him, he returns to your shared apartment. 

And as Rin sits with the sterile kitchen and unusual quiet of the space, for the first time ever, he really contemplates the idea of you finding someone better. He dimly remembers a similar conversation the two of you had, perhaps over the phone a while back? Through all the years he has known you, he supposes it is a habit of yours to want things without vocalizing them. Like the times the two of you are watching a movie together and you look between his cup of tea and the kitchen until he gets the hint to go make you a cup. Or when you’re eating together and you stare at his plate until he spoons some of whatever he’s having into your waiting mouth. Rin’s not too sure how those unremarkable situations are different from what happened at dinner tonight. 

And while Rin has never minded taking care of you and learning all the ins and outs of your body language, he’s realizing that these little things that rarely register in his mind may have been snowballing in yours. 

But on days when he comes home, totally spent from practice, he acknowledges that he won’t be able to put the effort into fulfilling your unsaid desires. And that’s almost every day. 

So as he sits on the couch, visualizing a life of yours without him, he thinks it might be for the best. He waits at home for you. When you come home, the two of you can have a mature conversation about a future where you are with someone who can make you happy. 

–

It’s late morning when you return home, unsurprisingly but not unexpectedly finding the apartment empty. Rin has gone to practice. 

You berate yourself for even wishing for one moment that Rin would have skipped practice to wait for you.

You suppose it’s like all your expectations of Rin: things piling up that you wish he would do but you never ask him for. 

You busy yourself cleaning, reading, watching TV, napping. The day passes by painfully slowly. You finally hear the click of the front door right as you finish preparing dinner – an elaborate meal of Rin’s favorites as your way of meeting him in the middle. 

You greet him at the door and after he takes off his shoes and drops his bag, he meets your eyes. There’s no detectable expression; he doesn’t look particularly surprised, upset, nor happy to see you at home waiting for you. 

What he does do, however, is walk up to you and pull you into his arms. 

His gesture overwhelms you. It’s not exactly what you’ve been asking for, but it’s enough. You sniffle lightly into his jacket. He just holds you and you let him – it’s precisely what you want and need. 

After a while of the two of you simply standing together in the entryway, your arms around his waist remain tight as you ask, “what are you thinking about, Rin?” 

He’s silent but squeezes your shoulders. 

A smile overtakes your lips. That’s when you remember you had prepared dinner for him. This seems like an appropriate time to offer it up as an apology, but Rin doesn’t seem to be ready to move. 

You let go, intending to lead him to the dinner table, but even as your arms unwind from around him, his hold remains tight. 

“Rin?” 

“I’m thinking about how I’m going to let you go.” 

You freeze. 

Rin doesn’t say anything more. He lets the words hang in the air and no matter how long the two of you stand there, the words don’t change. 

“I thought you came home to make up with me,” you say. 

Rin still refuses to let go. “I’ve thought about it,” he says quietly, slowly. “I think I finally get what you want from me. But I can’t give you that. I can’t be different and that might mean that I can’t be what you want. At least not in an emotional partner.” 

You shove him away. “You don’t know that! How can you know what I want! I never-” 

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t think I can give you what you want without needing you to ask for it. And I think you deserve someone who can.” 

You shake your head, different tears rearing to make an appearance. “You said it yourself, Rin. You’re not a mind-reader. I know I have to do a better job of telling you when I…” 

He shakes his head too. 

“No, I don’t think you’re asking too much. I think you’re completely right. But I can’t do it. There’s definitely someone else out there who can do it for you.” 

“If it’s not too much to ask, then why can’t you try! Why are you just giving up? You’re so unwilling to try that you’d rather break up?!” 

You’re hysterical at this point. Rin’s calm demeanor just makes it worse. 

“I love you,” Rin says solemnly. “but I can’t keep hurting you like this. Especially when I know I can’t change.” 

Rin says every word deliberately, with finality. Every word drains more and more fight from you. 

“Cant? Or won’t?” 

Rin only meets your gaze steadily. 

There are no more words, no more fight you have left. What more can you do but say okay? 

– 

For Rin, everything has gone exactly as he had expected. He would go even as far as to say that the night the two of you agreed to break up, he slept dreamlessly. He went to practice the following day and performed just as usual. He had dinner alone, but he’s no longer in a position to wonder where you spent dinner and so he cleans up and showers and falls into another fitless sleep. 

It’s only when the weekend comes around that something starts to stir. 

As agreed, you decide to move out despite Rin offering the apartment to you. It was a strange feeling when you had told him the apartment had too many memories for you to remain in it alone. He has never thought of it that way before, associating a tangible thing to an intangible feeling, unless it was a soccer ball flying into a goal. 

Sae had come over to help you move out. 

During your years of dating, Rin was aware that you and his older brother got along well. While your friendship with his brother had never really bothered him, he had also never considered you closer to Sae than he, himself, to Sae. 

So he finds it uncomfortable that Sae is the one helping you leave. 

But despite his initial reservations, the morning goes by uneventfully, the two brothers packing your things away into boxes. 

After lunch, you decide to join Sae to pack your half of the kitchen while Rin takes the bathroom. It takes him less than 30 minutes to separate all your items from his, a variety of colorful bottles and jars that he’s never touched. It takes even less time to pack them away into one single plastic container. 

Something strikes Rin in the gut when he realizes how easy it is to pack years into a single box. Unable to shake the punching feeling in his gut, he picks up a bottle of lotion that has been untouched by either of you for years to ask if you’d like to take it. He could care less about the lotion but he needs to walk away from the unfamiliar sight of the sink now only decorated with a sparse scattering of his grey-tone products. 

When he turns the corner to the kitchen, he sees you sitting on the counter, dictating items for Sae to grab from the cabinets. The domesticity between the two of you in his home makes the punchy feeling he wants to run from punch harder. 

He watches Sae point at a matching set of mugs, ones that Rin remembers easily. He surprises himself with how easily the memory of those mugs resurfaces: a vivid image of the two of you in a home goods store picking your first couple’s mugs. You shake your head and Sae moves to the next items in the cabinet. Rin’s gut wrenches at how easily you make your decision to leave those mugs behind. 

The next items are a set of glasses the two of you had bought as a souvenir on a weekend trip to Osaka. They weren’t matching, one of the glasses littered with various cute images associated with Osaka and the other with only printed lettering of “Osaka” on it. Despite the contrasting designs, he remembers you putting the glasses that each of you individually picked out together and squealing over how they look like a matching set. He didn’t understand then but as he watches you direct Sae to pack the glass with the cute images and leave the glass with the simple lettering, he starts to understand. His glass gets left in the cabinets. 

When the cabinet has been picked and chosen through to your liking, Sae moves over to where you’re sat on the counter and offers his hand to help you off. You take it and hop off. The scene that unfolds next is what finally makes Rin realize that the uncomfortable feeling in his chest is akin to that of a heart attack, no, even more pedestrian – jealousy. 

He watches as your expression crumbles and you bury your face into your hands. It hits him that it’s the first time he has seen you cry after the breakup. And on instinct, he begins to walk to where you are to offer comfort, but it’s Sae who wraps one arm around you and runs his hands up and down your arm. 

It strikes Rin then. 

It's one thing to think about letting you go be with someone who is the partner you deserve. 

It's another to actually do it and see it. It's another thing to go through with it. 

And the most jarring realization today is that maybe Rin is more capable of what he had originally thought. Maybe he can’t read your mind, but the years of being with you, living with you, loving you, has taught him that he can understand you without needing you to say anything. 

Like right now. Sae has one arm around your trembling figure, pulling you into his side, but what you really want is someone who will wrap both arms around your shoulders. You’d push your damp face into the nearest neck or collarbone when one arm comes up to cradle your head. You’d whimper when the one holding your nuzzles their face against your hair. It’s muscle memory. 

For both you and him. 

And just like that, Rin changes his mind. 

He charges onto the scene. 

“I’ll take it from here.” 

– 

“I’ll take it from here.” 

Sae lifts his arm from your shoulder, but by instinct, you cower, stepping behind him, just enough to hide your face. It takes you a few seconds to pull yourself together, school your expression to face Rin. When you look up, you find that the brothers have come to some sort of silent understanding, Sae nodding and patting your head before vacating the apartment, leaving you and Rin and the thick haze of tension. 

Sae forgotten, you swipe messily at your face one last time for stray tears, playing it off as wiping the sweat from your forehead. 

You turn back to the cabinets, busying yourself by reaching up for the remaining mugs. “We almost finished the kitchen. I just need to go through a couple more cupboards and…” 

“Hey.” 

You feel him before you hear him. Rin is all up in your space, one hand resting on the counter to your left, caging you against the counter. 

“Stop,” his commanding voice tells you. 

You turn around. 

“Can I take it back?” he asks. 

You fluster. 

“Oh! Um,” you respond, voice startlingly loud. “The mugs? Which one did you want to keep? I didn’t mean to take-” 

“Not that,” he stops your rambling. “Can I take what I said back? About breaking up. I want to take it all back.” 

He pries the mug from between your fingers and sets it back into its home in the cupboards. 

“What does ‘take it back’ mean?” you squeak out. 

“It means I don’t want to break up anymore.” 

Your mouth moves faster than your brain. 

“You can’t just take a break up back.” 

“So how can I do it then? I’ll do anything.” 

“You can’t!” you raise your voice then. “You just… can’t.” the last word uttered as a whisper. 

“Yes, we can. Tell me what to do. I’m sorry. Sorry. I know you do a lot for me and I thought I couldn’t do that for you. But I know I can. I can do it better than anyone else. So please, let me take it back.” 

“Do you even know what we were arguing about in the first place? Do you remember that one time, so long ago, you said the same thing to me over the phone? To use my fucking words? Well maybe you don’t, but I remember every word.”

“I remember,” he says honestly. “And I’m sorry I said it that way. So much that it hurt you. So much that you still remember the exact words I said to you. But I don’t need to read your mind.

“Though I would like you to tell me explicitly what you like sometimes,” he adds thoughtfully. 

“But, I’ve loved you for long enough now that I don’t need to read your mind to know what you need. Maybe I won’t always know what you want, so I’ll still need you to tell me sometimes, but I always know what you need.” 

A lot of the things Rin says are very matter of fact and this is no different. He knows before you do that you’ll give in. 

He closes the small distance and pulls you into a tight embrace. It’s enough to open the floodgates. 

“Do you even know how many hours I’ve spent practicing arguments against you in my head? In the shower, in the car, when I’m getting ready for bed? You can’t just say a few sorry’s and think it’s enough.” 

“Mhm,” he nods, cradling your head in a way you know he knows makes you the most vulnerable. 

“I make you feel so guilty in my imagination. I don’t want to feel like that anymore,” you sob. 

“Yeah,” he says, continuing to stroke your hair.

“And you can’t talk to me like that anymore.” 

“I won’t,” he promises. 

He lets you soak his shirt with tears and after what feels like hours, you finally bring your hands up to clutch tightly at his shirt. 

“So how was your day?” he asks. 

You pinch his sides. “Not now, idiot.” 

You hear him chuckle a bit, the vibrations against your body comforting. He continues holding you, though, just the way you know he knows you like.

#noos writes #blue lock angst #blue lock fluff #bllk angst #bllk fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #rin itoshi #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin angst

[netegf]

Hey can i make a blurb request for neteyam? maybe forced proximity trope where they get locked in the lab accident and Neteyam gets anxious bc he hates humans and reader smooches him to calm him down even tho they’re just friends (but they secretly love eachother ofc)

breathing exercise

pairing: neteyam x reader

“Neteyam, please stop picking your fingernails.”

Under shoddy lab fluorescents that make your eyes burn, Neteyam shifts in his position on the countertop, crossing his arms with a passive, but lazy, glare.

“You put us in this mess.” He replies pointedly. “You don’t get to tell me how to deal with it.”

That stings. But you wedge your bottom lip between your teeth, deciding maybe, just maybe, it was deserved.

In fairness, you should have left when Neteyam wanted to. But there was something about the way he looked under the blue lights – so pretty. And surrounding. Like his skin had no ending. It was something you wanted to commit to memory, and the extra couple minutes you’d coaxed out of him felt worth it in the moment.

But that quickly changed when the grimace set on Neteyam’s lips.

When Norm said that everything needed to be sterile. That no one could come in or out because of maintenance on the link units. That Neteyam would be trapped here, in a place that made his skin crawl, all evening.

“Teyam…” you trail off, peering up to meet his eyes which now soften at your dejected tone. “It was an accident. I’m sorry.”

At that, the rigidness of his spine seems to crumble.

His hard expression morphs into a pout and he outstretches a shaky hand to squeeze your own in a silent gesture of reconciliation. Still, the tension between his eyebrows remains.

“I told my dad I’d meet him ten minutes ago. He’s going to be pissed.” Sighing, he runs his slender fingers through his braids and attempts to keep his attention away from the bustling laboratory behind him.

The problem is... it’s not working very well. His breathing is uneven. His knee keeps bouncing up and down. His eyes are glued down at his thigh where your hands are joined.

“He will understand.” You reassure, but he doesn’t seem quite convinced, eyes still screwed tightly shut. “Stay calm, Neteyam. We’re gonna get out of here soon."

“I am calm!”

Now, you stare at him pointedly, and Neteyam slumps his shoulders sheepishly, flashing an apologetic smile. “Okay… maybe I’m not.”

Taking in the appearance of the scared and comically large warrior in front of you, a small smirk sparks like a conductor on your lips. You unwind your hand from his and grip the sides of his chin, drawing your warm faces closer together.

“We just need to find you a way to relax.”

“Mhm.” Yellow eyes travel down your face, stopping abruptly at the curve of your lips. “And how’s that?”

When your mouth collides onto his own, moving with fervor and electricity, he assumes the question must have been rhetorical. The burning kisses breathe new life into him – hands shoot up from his lap and find their rightful places, cradling your cheek and stroking your hair.

“How are we feeling?” You ask cheekily after pulling apart, mouth still hovering over his. So close, but not nearly enough.  

“Distressed. Very.” He has a stupid smile, laboured breaths catching hard in his chest. “Probably need more... of that.”

Then his lips are learning the shape of yours – kissing again, and again, and again. Chasing the air that calms him like it comes from within you.

a/n: ty for the request!! still getting my sea legs with them lolol 🥰💞

#neteyam x reader #atwow x reader #neteyam #avatar 2 #u responded so quickly u are a legend 🙏🏼 #ty for letting me escape life for a sec hehe 😇 #i hope this is oky! 😭 #1k

[gimmeurtmi]

routine — seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

tags: getting together, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dry humping, making out, messing around over clothes, shy!reader turned brave, bestie han for a minute, cheesy ending bc i couldn’t help myself, unspecified relationship

inspo: requested by anon! Humbly requests dry humping with Seungmin👀

notes: some of you might’ve noticed kim seungmin has captured me in his spell. this is the first of many minnie fics i have to write to deal with my feelings. thank you. rbs and feedback are much appreciated 🫶🏻

{ wc: 2462 }

Your routine with Seungmin was quite simple. You’d come over to the dorm when the other boys were busy and get to spend some time alone with him. He usually put something on the TV—a reality contest about singers, but he never watched the episodes chronologically, so singers would disappear and reappear every time you watched another one. Sometimes he’d watch the finale before the auditions.

You thought it was crazy, but the truth was you weren’t there to watch the singing competition with him.

You were there to spend time with your crush.

After watching two episodes he’d order some food (almost always getting you the pork belly you liked) and then you two would eat.

Then you’d talk about things. He’d share the troubles he had at work and you’d share your stresses and then he’d crack a joke or two and then you talked about happier things and without fail, his head would end up in your lap as you played with his wonderful hair.

Once the silence settled around the pair of you, Seungmin would stretch, yawn, and ask you if he could kiss you.

He’d kiss you for a few minutes, softly, and then he’d ask if it was time for you to head home since it was getting late.

The routine was like clockwork.

And like clockwork, Seungmin would ignore the kisses you shared once they were done.

You did complain about the situation to your best friend, Jisung, who sadly was also Seungmin’s best friend. All Jisung had to say was, “but you like him, how is this bad?”

“Because I want more than dinner and some pecks,” you whined.

“Okay. So initiate that,” he shrugged back at you.

“I can’t,” you helpfully explained.

“He’s a coward,” Jisung said simply as he took another spoonful of ice cream, “he’s obviously too scared to start something. So if you want more just do it. What happened to girls can make the first move?”

“Girls can,” you took another bite of the ice cream you were sharing with Jisung, “but I can’t.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“You’re so good at advice, I’m so happy I picked you as my best friend,”

Jisung grinned at you, his cheeks full of ice cream.

“He likes you, he wants to be with you, and with the little schedule you have going on he gets that. Why would he risk it?” Was Jisung actually offering you advice? “If you want more then put on your big girl pants and start something.”

“What I want is to take off my—“

“—no! Don’t wanna hear that!”

You grinned at your best friend before you got back to your ice cream. Perhaps he was right.

**

Next time you saw Seungmin you decided the only way to get a different result would be to break the routine.

As the first episode of the show started you brought your hand in between your bodies. Slowly, you crawled your pinky across the sofa until it touched his hand.

Seungmin did not react at all.

In fact, he remained frozen for the rest of the contestant's song—only reacting when he rolled his eyes at the judge’s praise.

“That guy is biased,” he started, “that wasn’t a good cover, it sounded like karaoke.”

“You should be a judge on one of these shows,” you said, finally gathering the courage to link your fingers together.

Seungmin hummed.

“Maybe when we disband and I—“

“—Ahhhh la la laa!”

He squeezed your hand, a chuckle on his tongue. “what?”

“You’re not allowed to say that word!”

He laughed, his eyes disappearing under his bangs. “Okay.”

You held hands through the whole episode, Seungmin’s thumb rubbing against your palm in rhythm with the songs playing. You liked that a lot.

And then, after you finished the food and telling him all about your big fight with your mum, his head was in your lap again.

You ran your finger through his hair.

It was quiet.

Only this time you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You had to break the routine. That was the only way. He was going to ask to kiss you and you would say no. You’d say you wanted more. Yes, that was the plan.

“Hey, pretty?” That was different.

You hummed.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Since when do you call me pretty?”

“Since when do you hold my hand?” He asked right back. The hand that wasn’t playing with his hair was resting by his head, and Seungmin had reached out for it and laced your fingers together.

“I dunno,” you mumbled, “I just wanted to.”

“It’s not bad, I like holding your hand,” he looked up at you with a smile, squeezing your hand.

You smiled to yourself, brushing his bangs into his eyes.

“I liked it too,” you said. Seungmin hummed.

The silence took its turn again.

“So.. about that kiss?”

“Oh, uh,” you started.

As soon as something other than ‘yes’ left your lips, Seungmin lifted his head from your lap. He turned to you, eyes wide, waiting for you to say something.

You were still holding hands but one of you had started to sweat and both your palms were now incredibly warm.

“Um, yeah,” you said after a few moments.

“Um, yeah?” He repeated, eyes squinting at you.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about something,” you nodded, “I’m here now.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He offered, almost getting back into position for Phase Three. But you were ready now for Phase Five.

“No, let’s kiss instead.”

So there went your plan to say no. But maybe you already changed too much today—holding hands was a great start and you can just build more from there.

Seungmin brought his hand to your jaw, pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours.

You let his soft lips take control, like you always did, following his lead and asking for nothing more. He pressed his lips against yours once and then twice, and then he pulled away.

Before you even thought of opening your eyes you leaned forward—kissing him again, pulling him back towards you.

Seungmin reacted instantly, bringing his hand to your waist to keep you this close to him.

You moved against each other, your mind taken over by how soft his lips were.

You moved your hand to his jaw, feeling the way it flexed as he opened his mouth, experimentingly moving his tongue against yours. You hummed, brushing your thumb against his cheek.

When you pushed against him more, trying to get him to lay down he pulled away.

His pupils were blown as he looked at you up and down before his eyes settled on your lips.

“We should keep going,” he said, breathing heavily, “we should definitely do more of that.”

“Then why did you stop, Minnie?”

“The boys are gonna be back in like twenty minutes,” he groaned.

“So? That’s a very long time,” you smiled up at him, massaging your fingers against his scalp.

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s not enough time.”

“Enough? For what?” You asked, hopefully.

“I don’t want us to get carried away and for the boys to see you in a position you don’t want to be seen in,” he explained. You didn’t quite understand.

Well, you did. You just wanted him to say it clearly.

“What kind of position?” You kissed his cheek. When he said nothing you kept kissing him, down his jaw, down his neck, settling on a spot that made him sigh.

You sucked on his skin, grinning to yourself when he let out a groan and squeezed your hips in response. You took that as a sign to keep going.

“Pretty,” he sighed softly.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, licking over the now red spot you created.

“Don’t start something I can’t finish.” It sounded like a warning.

“And who said you can’t finish it?”

“Seventeen minutes isn’t enough,” he said simply.

“Do you always count the minutes before you kick me out?” You chuckled at him.

“No,” he countered, making the sound longer, “I count the minutes until I inevitably need to stop so they don’t come in when we’re in the middle of something.”

You shook your head at his logic. “We could just go to your room and close the door, you know.”

Seungmin looked at you with wide eyes.

Instead of saying anything else—because you made your thoughts pretty clear, you’d say—you leaned forward, grabbing his chin and tilting it upwards, enough to allow you to pepper kisses around his skin. His collarbone peaked out from his oversized shirt collar, the perfect place to plant endless kisses like you always wanted to.

When you pulled away from his skin, both his hands were cupping your head, one in your hair and one on your cheek—pulling you back towards his lips eagerly.

He kissed you with an urgency you’ve never felt from him before.

Your tongues moved against each other as the pair of you gasped, Seungmin’s hands pulling your waist even closer to him, practically dragging you over the couch.

“We have twelve minutes, Minnie,” you teased him with a smirk, pulling away slightly to catch your breath.

But he didn’t react to that. Instead, he used the opportunity to kiss down your neck.

“I’m not stopping,” was all he said, biting your skin before he started sucking on it.

“No one told you to stop,” you sighed as a tingle ran down your neck and towards your spine.

Seungmin bit the skin one more time before he faced you again, his lips wet and shiny as he kissed you for a moment.

Then he stood up. His sweats did very little to conceal the way all this affected him, and you felt a heat spread between your legs when he caught you staring at him.

He offered his hand to you and you quickly took it, standing up and following him to his room.

You’ve never been in his room before except for one other time. You were cold and he told you to just grab the first hoodie you see. That took you about three seconds and you never stepped foot in his room again.

Now, Seungmin locked the door behind him.

You easily laid onto the bed, settling yourself on the pillows as Seungmin climbed on top of you.

He rubbed his thumb in circles against your cheek as he smiled at you, licking his lips. “Hey, pretty.”

“Hey,” you smiled back.

“Can I kiss you?”

You giggled at him, rolling your eyes. “Can you please do more than that already?”

His eyes gleamed at you. “Desperate, are we?”

“Like you’re not fully hard right now?” You shot back.

Seungmin laughed, and then rolled his eyes, and before he could say whatever smug retort was on his lips you pushed your hips up and rubbed against his crotch.

He gasped.

“Yeah, what was that?” You smirked at him.

“Shut up,” he dismissed.

You decided he definitely didn’t have any right to tease you, and so you grabbed his hips and pushed him down—his body meeting yours.

His eyes fluttered shut.

You were going to say something cheeky, he knew, so instead he kissed you as you rolled his hips against yours.

Seungmin hadn’t made a move to take any of your clothes off, or his, but his hips were moving against yours in the best way.

At one point you heard the front door open, and Seungmin pulled away from you, but you quickly grabbed his face and ran your tongue across his lips.

“I don’t care that they’re here, just keep going,” you said in between gasps.

He listened, and quickly got back to kissing you as he dragged his body against yours. You moved up to meet his thrusts, moaning into the kiss as he bumped against your sensitive bud.

You were gasping, grabbing at his arms, doing anything you could to get him closer to you.

And he did everything he could to get you to make those beautiful noises again.

He ran his hands all over you, not even sure where to touch first now that he was touching you. He moved from squeezing your thighs to your arms to your waist to running up and down your stomach until he was brave enough to crawl his hand under your shirt and all the way up to your breasts.

You were wearing one of your bralettes today, which made it much easier for him to simply run his thumb against your bra until he got a reaction from you.

You moaned softly as he rubbed your nipple with a smirk.

“What are you getting cocky about?” You asked, breatheless.

“Just… that I can drive you crazy with minimal effort.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna cum from this, if that’s what’s getting you excited,” you said, bucking your hips up involentarily.

“Who said I’m trying to make you cum?”

You whined at his words, and Seungmin had to remind you the boys were home now, so he licked into your mouth again to keep you quiet.

It was fifteen minutes before midnight when Seungmin pulled away, placing his face in your neck and kissing it lightly as you both caught your breaths.

You had no idea you were going for that long, but you knew your panties were ruined from having soaked through them and that there was a stain on the front of Seungmin’s sweats from where he was leaking.

He ran his hands up and down your sides as you both just breathed.

“Do you need to go home?” He asked, like he always does. But this time it sounded more like a child asking if he had to go to bed and stop playing with his favourite friend.

“Maybe in a bit?” You offered.

Seungmin rubbed circles into your stomach where your shirt was scrunched up your middle. He kissed your cheek.

“Don’t want you to go yet, pretty.”

You ran your hand up his back and then down again, matching the pace of his fingers on your skin. “I hate when you go.”

“You’re the one who kicks me out every time,” you smiled.

“Yeah, but I told you why. I need to stop myself because now I don’t want you to ever leave. I just wanna do this for hours.”

“And what makes you think I don’t want to do this for hours, too?”

Seungmin picked his head up, looking at you bewildered. As if you just told him the most magnificent secret. “I’m…. not sure.”

“So…. can we keep doing this for hours?”

Seungmin didn’t answer, instead brought your lips together and kissed you for an undetermined amount of minutes. Or maybe hours.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #all.works #skz x y/n #skz smut #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #seungmin #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skz fics

[pumpkinbxtch]

“No one asked for it” ME!! ME!! I WILL ASK FOR IT I WILL!!! ME!! Plsplsplsplspls do an Apollo/Lester x Reader. PLEASE

you said you have an idea, DO IT. unless it’s nsfw 💔💔 but if it isn’t PLEASE

but if you can just do one in general I’ll take it

Me I’m the target audience it’s me

(Fem or Gn!reader)

I don’t have any specifics bcs I’m so desperate atp :’)!!!

thank you for reading this 😭 hope you have a nice day

.・・. “offering” .・・.

— apollo/lester x fem!reader

Summary: apollo fell in love with you and that scares him, probably the only thing he can do about it is nothing. or not?

Warnings: none, I think. swear words? probably a little angsty.

A/N: hello gorgeous, you are the first to ask me so thank you. IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE LESTER/APOLLO so don't worry, THERE WILL BE MORE (or i hope so) For now I will leave you with this small but cute one, I hope you like it and I LOVED reading you, if you have any others requests don't stop your precious heart.

Forgive me if it is not worthy of you. Kisses.

- From the other side of the milky way, María. 💙

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Apollo knew that falling in love with you could represent a danger, his love seemed cursed no matter the time and space where it flourished. He could rarely (or rather never) be happy with the person he loved, but he just couldn't help it and his human form made him nothing more than an embarrassing, clumsy, sweaty bundle when he was with you. Everything about the situation seemed wonderful (and tragic) to him, he didn't know when he had started to feel that way but his heart was beating as if it were the first time.

He tried-and really tried-not to make it obvious. You'd already risked getting into this mess with him and Meg, you'd saved his not-so-divine ass a thousand times, and now you got involved as his love interest? No thanks, he preferred you more as a human and not as a cute bush. Although he wondered what kind of flower you were? No, stop, he wouldn't create any more flowers with ex-lovers.

But your pretty eyes, your lips and, oh, that laugh that seemed like a melody composed by damn Mozart! Damn, he had a huge crush on you. And what was he? a skinny guy with a bird's nest for hair and acne problems, ugh.

Maybe the walk he was having with you around New Rome was the closest to what you would do as a couple, so Apollo began to daydream. He grabbed a flower from the flower beds where you were walking and held it in his sweaty hands.

He looked at you. How your hair danced with each step and you smiled as you saw how the simple everyday life of the locals resulted in something beautiful. The sun, gods! He used to be in charge of it and couldn't contain his jealousy towards the other gods for enlightening you with such grace.

Apollo rolled the flower on its stem with his fingertips and admired its pink petals.

Then, he slowed his pace and left you walking on your own. How it hurt. He just wanted to love and be loved.

Noticing his absence, you turned on your heel, kicking up a small wave of dust.

—Apollo? — You called him and he felt a crack appear in his human heart.

He looked up and walked towards you slowly. The sun was already setting, Ra would have already finished and he was surely laughing at him.

— Darling? — He responded, feeling the heat on his cheeks immediately. Flirting wasn't so easy for him anymore, yet he kept trying.

You snorted and gave a small smile.

— Again with that.

Wanting to brush aside your mockery, he approached you and placed the flower behind your ear. Hearing no complaints, he gently placed his hand on the back of your head and kissed your forehead. At least his father hadn't given him an embarrassing height to achieve that.

His heart raced and he tried to keep your cheek resting on his chest hoping you could hear his heartbeat. A silent way of telling you what felt for you, would you have understood?

You straightened gently making you face each other and the breeze suddenly caressed both of you. Apollo's tangled brown curls played with the flurry of his twirling and framing his blue eyes. He looked so young but his essence emanated the ancestral, it was like admiring those museum pieces but raw. You felt so bad about yourself.

How can you fall in love with a god? The answer was short: You couldn't. You shouldn't.

You shouldn't have.

The breeze brought with it small particles of dust that made your eyes blink suddenly to cover the discomfort, however, a few seconds after noticing it, Apollo raised his hand and diverted the wind from your face. A gentle and terribly sweet act.

You both navigated simple moments like that but you couldn't see them taking you anywhere. So what did it matter? Before it all ended and broke your heart, you would live to mourn it.

Your hand wanted to travel to Apollo's cheek but you only managed to leave a ghost of your touch. Despite being familiar with him and playing bad jokes on him, it still seemed unreal to be able to touch him in such an impetuous way. You stood on tiptoes and gave him a small kiss on the lips.

The surprise of the act unbalanced him and he stumbled. He blinked repeatedly and his cheeks flushed.

— That was...?

— An offering.

It was probably towards the wrong god but Apollo didn't care if only the present mattered. More so if it was one with you.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧ #apollo #lester papadopoulos #lester papadopoulos x reader #apollo x reader #toa #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #lester x reader

[syrupfog]

AU where Sanji never actually left Germa, and Judge made him a test subject early on, successfully getting rid of his empathy after years of torture.

But like, he has those years of bullying from his brothers first, and his empathy’s gone but his anger’s still there. Also with no Zeff, he fights with his fists and doesn’t treat women Like That. Because Zeff’s the one who instilled in him to never hit a woman (and made it weird but that’s not the point).

He’s out on some mission in the Grand Line when he runs into the Straw Hats and he sees Zoro’s green hair and associates it with Yonji and he just haaaates him on sight.

The fight is super evenly matched and Zoro manages to knock him out eventually but he’s like what’s the guy’s DEAL. Wtf is his problem.

Maybe Law’s with them when it goes down and he recognizes that costume and fanboys…

Oh actually yeah— Law’s with them! And after Zoro knocks him out, Law goes into Creepy Surgeon Mode and is like for the love of god please let me get my fingers in that chest cavity

And everyone else (bar Robin ofc) is like Σ（ﾟдﾟlll）

But Law gets a room going and finds all sort of odd Germa technology literally implanted in him and starts pulling it out and messing with it and suddenly Sanji wakes UP and he’s— he’s scared. And overwhelmed. He’s in real time having to reckon with years of torturing people.

And Law’s like oh the emotional part of this is not in my pay grade this is not my job anymore and dips.

So Sanji’s there in the Sunny’s infirmary like “I’m a monster I need to be put down oh my god” and Luffy shows up like HEY you’re cool as hell join my crew.

Zoro is not a fan of this option and also it turns out neither is Sanji BUT sanji has nowhere to go so he makes a deal to sail with them until the next habitable island. So Zoro watches him like a hawk bc he’s like “you’re definitely faking this and are gonna turn evil and try to kill people again right”

But instead he just keeps finding Sanji being really pathetic and sad and looking longingly at the kitchen (Robin doubles as the cook and her food is damn near inedible but that’s just the life of a pirate innit)

Late one night Zoro comes off watch and he sees Sanji sneaking into the kitchen and he thinks OH he’s going to try to POISON US so he sneaks in after him and confronts him, swords and all. And Sanji, who knows what an awful person he’s been and knows he deserves death, just starts crying and is like “yeah you can kill me just let me cook one thing once I just want to remember what it feels like”

So Zoro lets him cook, and is like yeah I’m killing you after this, and Sanji spends a long time sniffling as he re-familiarizes himself with pots and pans and spices and knives and ends up making something garlic-y and delicious that smells strong enough to wake up the crew, and everyone traipses in enraptured by the smell. So Sanji serves them and Zoro tries it first because if it’s poisoned he’s not letting EVERYONE go down. But it’s not poisoned and it’s really good, and anyway Zoro can’t kill him now in front of everyone.

But three nights later the same thing happens— he sees Sanji sneaking into the kitchen and follows him and Sanji says “I know you should’ve killed me last time but you couldn’t, I get that, but I’m dangerous. So let me cook just one more time and then you can kill me.”

And it doesn’t happen of course. Everyone comes in and everyone eats and Zoro watches Sanji recover a little of himself.

And so it goes. At first every few nights and then every other night, and then every single night.

And whenever Zoro comes in, Sanji says, I know I deserve to die but let me cook just one more thing.

And at some point Zoro stops thinking about killing Sanji. He’s a part of the crew now. He’s proving himself, and anyway Zoro can beat him and hold him down and Law can reverse whatever it is again if needs be.

So it’s just a thing they do. Zoro lightly threatens him and Sanji begs for his life and they move on. It’s routine but it doesn’t actually MEAN anything anymore.

That is, until one really bad night where Sanji doesn’t show up in the kitchen like he always does, and Zoro goes looking and finally finds him deep in the steerage, and Sanji says, “I can’t keep living like this, please just kill me. I can’t keep living knowing I’m going to die the next day.”

And Zoro’s like ???? You’re not gonna die the next day wtf

And Sanji says, please, just get it over with.

Zoro realizes that Sanji has continued all this time assuming Zoro really is coming to kill him every night

But it’s been MONTHS at this point. Surely he wouldn’t still think—

But Sanji’s wracked with more than a decade’s worth of guilt, is so sure he deserves the worst the world possibly has to offer.

Too bad Zoro’s a little in love with him at this point. And says anyone who wants to kill Sanji will have to go through Zoro first.

Which Sanji DOESNT UNDERSTAND and he doesn’t understand the kiss Zoro follows it up with, but he returns it. Greedily.

Because as much as he knows he deserves death, he also relishes every moment of life, every chance to feel the emotions he wasn’t allowed. And Zoro goes from jailer to protector in his mind. Slowly. Hesitantly.

He spends years working through the trauma, decades really, but the simplicity with which Zoro sees the world helps. Zoro doesn’t blame him. Zoro loves him. Sanji doesn’t know much but he knows he’ll defend this ship that saved him with his life.

And he knows Zoro wouldn’t let Sanji defend HIM with his life, because Zoro views his life as precious and important.

Which is something Sanji is still learning.

He’ll get there.

#zosan #it’s always a toss up what fics to write vs what to just throw out into the void like this #uhhhhh I need a tag for this #would this go in the Zosan fanfic tag I dunno if that’s just for finished fic #my writing #I guess that works #anyway cross posted from twitter since I have like 3 followers lmao #and tbh it’s been a week I’m still thinking about this #(I’m thinking about writing omegaverse Zosan more tho) #(and ptsd law who’s scared of luffy) #(too little time in the world)

[webslingingslasher]

I want trouble to go up to Peter and tell him to leave her alone PERMANENTLY bc that "no one is gonna try to date me bc we were seen together" shit is so annoying. I want her to tell him thats toxic and she would never do that to him pls

‘i unblocked you to yell at you.’

‘Please do.’

‘you’re toxic. you’re mean and toxic and holding me back. i would NEVER go around telling girls to watch out and be weary because you’re mine. it’s weird and gross.’

‘funny how you never wanna respond when you’re caught in your shit. you act like a tough guy but you can’t ever back it up.’

‘I’m not holding you back. I told Tarrent to stop his bullshit. It’s not on me if people still don’t want to mess around with you, I did what you asked.’

‘there’s an underlying threat and you know it.’

‘There isn’t.’

‘you know what? i didn’t wanna do this to you, parker but you made me.’

‘i’m gonna go out with zach kelph and you can’t do shit about it.’

‘That’s a low blow, trouble.’

‘Real low.’

‘you think it’s fun messing with me. it’s not my fault the only guy who isn’t scared is the guy you hate.’

‘if you were smarter you would’ve thought this through.’

‘I’m sorry that guys are blowing you off and making you feel shitty. That was all Tarrent, I had nothing to do with it. The worst I’ve done is follow you around, I never threatened anyone with violence. Even I know that’s too far.’

‘you didn’t stop it. you knew what was going on and you let it. you’re just as guilty.’

‘it’s a good thing zach doesn’t care.’

‘He’s not doing it because he likes you.’

‘He’s doing it because he hates me and knows you’re my only soft spot.’

‘you’re so selfish.’

‘you really have to make this about you?’

‘If you want to date other guys, go for it. I’m just letting you know Zach has zero good intentions. You’d be something to show off. That’s it.’

‘I CAN’T DATE OTHER GUYS!!!!’

‘WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THIS CONVERSATION???!!!!’

‘YOU FUCKING RUINED EVERYTHING!’

‘I COULDN’T PUT UP WITH YOU ANYMORE AND I FUCKING END IT AND YOU’RE STILL FUCKING WITH ME.’

‘date other guys he said!!! DATE OTHER GUYS???? I’VE BEEN TRYING!!!!’

‘asshole.’

‘i fucking hate you.’

‘i hate you so fucking much.’

‘i hate everything about you and i regret every fucking kiss and every time you fucked me and every time I THOUGHT YOU CARED ABOUT ME.’

‘you don’t like me. you never did.’

‘your aunt would be so so SO disappointed in you. i hope you know that. may would HATE who you are. this isn’t who she raised.’

‘surprise surprise. he has no response.’

‘I don’t know what you want from me. Do you want me to make an instagram post saying you’re free game? Do you want me to toss you to a friend? What do you want my answer to be?’

‘this is your fault.’

‘You dated a chapter member at the number one frat on campus, of course people aren’t going to move in on you two weeks after it ended.’

‘i didn’t date anyone.’

‘You’re right, everything we did was a waste of time and it never meant anything to me.’

‘oh?? he admits it??? wow. never thought i would’ve seen the day.’

‘Date who you want. Kiss who you want. Fuck who you want. But don’t do it to get back at me.’

‘And for the love of god don’t fucking pick Zach. This isn’t about my ego, trouble. Zach is a terrible person and he only wants to use you.’

‘you spelled parker wrong.’

‘You used to be nice to me.’

‘and i used to think you loved me.’

‘funny how wrong we both were about each other.’

‘I think you should block me again.’

‘you just love playing a martyr don’t you? you know you’ve never said sorry? not once? you never actually told me that you acknowledge you weren’t good to me and that you’re sorry it ended this way. that’s why i can’t stand you. you act like it still doesn’t matter. i just want real emotion from you and i still can’t get that. i mean come on peter. what else do you have to lose?’

‘It does matter to me. It matters a lot, trouble. I’m sorry I’m not crying to your voicemail but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking suck for me. It does. I miss you. A lot. I miss you waking me up every night, I miss you reading next to me, I miss you taking naps with me, I miss you every fucking minute of everyday.’

‘It fucking hurts to think about. Even worse to talk about it with you. It’s my fault. All of this is my fucking fault. How do I have any right telling you it hurts me too? I only hurt because of me.’

‘There’s nothing more I want to do than hug you and tell you how sorry I am but I can’t do that without breaking down. I can’t.’

‘i don’t believe you’re crying over me.’

‘Ask my disappointed aunt.’

‘You weren’t wrong about that.’

‘that was a little mean.’

‘It was honest.’

‘doesn’t mean it was nice.’

‘I really don’t deserve you being nice to me anymore. I’ll tell Tarrent to make it right, okay? I promise you can have any guy you want. Even… Zach Kelph.’

‘i don’t want zach. i just wanted to be heard.’

‘I listened. I’m trying, trouble. I promise I am.’

‘yeah. i’ve heard that before.’

#frat!peter drabbles

[jreads]

Not sure if this is where we submit requests, but i’d kill for a fic where reader’s having debilitating anxiety attack in Jackson (like where your vision blacks at the edges and you can’t breathe) and suddenly a strong force is keeping you up and you look up and it’s Joel; and he’s concerned bc he relates (but you don’t know each other) and you take a fistful of his shirt and suddenly they feel the symptoms retreating - and that’s how you meet, and you’ve found comfort in each other since. :’)

Sorry if that made no sense it’s word vomit LOL

Also sidebar: unexpected constellations will stay w me forever thank you:’)

Of Memories and Mealtimes (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, Mentions of death, Foul language

A/N: this prompt was so cute, I hope I did it justice!

It’s been getting colder recently. No snow, not yet, but the breeze has a certain nip to it, blowing burnt orange leaves to rest on the ground like a natural carpet. The days are grey, and the nights are long, and that creeping feeling has been looming ever closer recently. You’ve found solace in the comfort of the kitchen. The air here is warm and humid and smells of frying garlic and onion. You perform repetitive, menial tasks and it staves off—to some extent—the ever-present penetrating feeling of loneliness. 

Since arriving in Jackson, you’ve struggled to find a place, a sense of belonging. You’re coming to the conclusion that maybe you never will. You thought you had one… but that was a while ago. 

It’s selfish to think you’re the only one in this town with a painful past; it’s clear that everyone is trying just as hard to find reasons to get through each day. You’re not alone. But you do feel like it. Often.

Maria has taken pity on you, stationing you in the kitchens because she knows you like it there. Knows you like to watch the people sitting at tables and soak up sounds of laughter in an attempt to steal a moment of second-hand happiness.

It’s late now, pitch black outside, and your shift is almost over. You’re cutting fruits and veggies for omelettes in the morning: spinach, olives, tomatoes. There are maybe five people still sitting, a table of three, one woman at a booth, and a man sitting alone at the bar. Sometimes, you like to eavesdrop.

The trio are talking about their old lives. They seem to have found something in common, street racing. Moding their cars, evading the cops… back when you could just drive into a gas station for petrol.  One used to have an old Charger, stolen in the looting. He reminisces over how the purr of the engine felt, how the lights of the highway would turn to a blur as he accelerated. From the corner of your eye, you see the man from the bar get up to leave, dropping some coin on the counter. You used to like to drive fast too. When it was for leisure and not for survival.

“I’m scared.”

The familiar voice sears through you like a branding iron, bringing with it flashing images of memory. Fuck. No, no, no. Not now. 

The freeway is peppered with stationary cars, and you’re swerving, as fast as humanly possible, trying desperately to navigate the mess. The Jeep behind you is gaining, and the little boy in your passenger seat is rigid in fear. If you can just make it through the overpass, it clears out after that. Their car is good offroad, but yours is faster. You upshift.

There’s gunfire, and your rear window shatters. He screams. You use your right hand to push his head down. He needs to stay low. You’re almost there.

Another gunshot. You try to ignore the popping of the rear tire; try not to think about what it means. The vehicle swerves and you fight against it by correcting the wheel. It’s no use. You clip the side of an abandoned car, and your own flips. You’re thrown through the windscreen. It’s the last thing you remember before your vision goes dark.

There’s pain. But not from the onslaught of old memories. You’ve slipped with the knife in your distraction, cutting a deep line into the side of your thumb. It’s dripping down, coating your fingers in a slick red. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, lungs constricting so hard you can barely get a breath in.

“Could I take five?” you manage to gasp to the other lady. But you don’t even wait for her reply before dropping the knife with a clatter and banging gracelessly through the back service doors. Your vision is blurring, darkening at the edges and your head is spinning. It feels as if you might die. You’re going to die.

Your hand is now coated in blood and—with little thought—you try to brush it off with your right, only succeeding in spreading the scarlet until it’s all you can see.

You wake in a ravine. How long have you been out? There’s pain in your cheek and you reach up to pluck a piece of glass from it. The crash. The kid. Oh, no. Oh, god. You call his name, voice hoarse. No reply. Your legs are too weak to support the weight of your own body, so you scramble up from the ditch, back onto the freeway. The car lies a few meters away on its side. Scraped and destoyed. And beyond it, a small body. No.

You crawl to him, sobbing at the bones bent in unnatural angles. And the bullet wound through his chest. You scream. You wail. His lifeless form is so small in your arms, leaking blood over your palms. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to—

His body is going cold. Limp and lifeless. But you can’t let go. Maybe, if you just hold on tight enough, the force of your love can breathe life back into his lungs.

You’re covered in his bood, figuratively, literally, it’s everywhere. Stumbling as if you’re drunk, you cry so hard that the tears only blur your vision further. It’s been a while since you’ve had one this bad. If you could just get back to your house. God, why did it have to happen in public? You can’t see where you’re going, so it’s no surprise when you run into something.

No, someone. There are hands on your shoulders and a comforting voice, gravelly Texan accent. What is he saying? You can’t tell. You’re going to be sick.

Something blocks out the lights of the streetlamp. There’s a body beside you.

A fragile body, broken and empty. Leaking life onto cracked pavement.

No, but this body is warm. Strong and gentle. A calloused palm cradling your head into a broad chest, a steady heartbeat. Alive. This body is alive. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt with desperate hands, forgetting for a moment that your own blood will stain the fabric. He’s speaking words, low whispers, but the sound of them vibrates through him and into you. He’s telling you to calm down.

But you can’t. How do you tell him you can’t? You’re choking on air, hiccupping in a way that hurts.

“Come on now, breathe with me.” He smells nice, like cedar and whiskey. You can feel him smoothing circles onto your back, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales. You try to copy him, lungs spasming with the effort. “That’s it. Keep going.” You’re heaving loud, ugly, uneven breaths, but it’s all you can manage. Past and present are flashing before you, your own blood, someone else’s, unseeing eyes and dead silence, a thumping pulse and soothing voice. It’s getting easier; you’re synchronizing your breaths to his own. But as you lean into the comedown, that exhaustion starts to creep up behind you. You melt into him in relief, but he doesn’t shy away. “There you go. I got you.”

Pieces of your surroundings start to fade back into view. You’re under the awning by the barn, shrouded in shadow. He’s practically holding you up by himself, and you feel a sudden deep stab of embarrassment. You can’t look this stranger in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shirt.

He doesn’t loosen his hold. “You got nothing to apologize for.”

“Probably got… blood on your shirt.” It’s taking effort to even form the words.

He laughs lightly and the sound is like warm caramel. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

The nausea is ebbing, but you find you don’t want to leave. Caught in his arms, you feel the safest you’ve felt in a long while.

“You should probably get that finger bandaged.” He steps away, pulling your arm into the light to examine the cut and you almost sob once more at the loss of contact. “I got supplies back at my place, if that’s alright by you?”

“Okay,” you say because you feel too weak to walk back to your own house alone right now. And also because in the glow of the streetlamp, you can see the rugged handsomeness of his face, etched with sweet worry, dark curls interspersed with shots of grey. You’ve seen him before. The man at the bar, so often alone. 

You’re shaking now, visceral, wracking shudders. He sheds his coat and swings it over your shoulders before leading you down the laneway.

His house is not far, a five-minute walk at most. He ushers you up the front porch, opening the door to a dim-lit living area.

“Joel?” A shrill voice calls down from above. 

Joel Miller? This is Joel Miller?

“Yeah Ellie, it’s me.”

A little girl comes bounding down the stairs, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She stops dead when she sees you, noting the jacket around your shoulders, the blood on your hand.

“What happened?” she says, with a kind of fascinated wonder that comes naturally to kids. Oh god, she reminds you of—

“Kitchen accident.” Joel replies smoothly. “You mind getting the med kit, kiddo?”

Her big eyes blink once, twice. “Oh, yeah.” Then she’s running right back up the staircase.

Joel sits you on the couch, grasping your wrist with a tender motion so at odds with all the things you’ve heard about him. Then again, you never knew he had a kid.

“Is she yours?”

He doesn’t look up from your palm. “In the ways that count.”

The girl, Ellie, is back down in record time with a worn first aid kit that she extends to Joel. When he takes it, she looks again at you with blatant curiosity. You feel guilty for barging into the warmth of their home like this.

“Ellie, why don’t you go boil some water for coffee.”

“Can I have hot chocolate?” she asks, and the hopeful joy in her voice is enough to finally make you smile.

Joel does too. “Sure.” And she’s off once more, rounding the corner to where you assume the kitchen lies. “But don’t go putting extra sugar in it,” he calls after her. The soft domesticity makes you ache with loss.

“Well, good news is you won’t be needing stiches.” He pulls an array of supplies from the box: disinfectant, gauze, a bandage. “But you should tell Maria to take you off kitchen schedule for a couple days.”

“How’d you know I was on kitchen schedule?” 

“Lucky guess,” he replies easily, but you swear there’s pink travelling across his cheeks. 

The disinfectant stings and you hiss. He falls into silent work, and you find yourself watching him, trying to understand how the man in front of you is the very same that garnered such a ruthless and cold reputation. 

He breaks the silence first. “I don’t mean to pry but…” Joel fastens the bandage securely around your finger. “…if you want to talk about what happened…”

You don’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

When you don’t reply, he nods his head. “I get it.” You watch him cast a glance toward the sound of a boiling kettle, to where Ellie is. “Trust me, I do.” 

You sit with him and Ellie—quiet with a warm cup of coffee—until late into the night. Ellie makes a face at the smell of it and quips back and forth with Joel about how he can ‘drink that piss.’ The girl has a mouth on her. She’s clever, sharp-witted, and the banter between her and him seems to dig a needle and thread into your gaping heart and sew one single stitch into it.

Past midnight, despite your repeated refusal, Joel insists he walk you home. Seeing your own house, cold and devoid of light makes your shoulders slump and heart race anew. Joel seems to note the behaviour.

“You’re always welcome at ours.” You know you’ll never take him up on the invitation. From the sadness in his eyes, you think he knows it too.

There are miles between you. “Thank you.” He only nods. You leave him standing on the lawn.

From behind the safety of the porch window, you can see that he waits for the light to turn on in your living room before walking back down the street.

Maria has insisted you take a few days off. Damn it. Joel must have said something. You try to busy yourself in the garden instead, but the gloves fit awkwardly over your bandage. You don’t last long anyway. The sound of school children heading home hits your ears around 3:00PM, and within minutes, a small shadow blocks where the sun hits your face.

“What’re you doing?”

Just seeing her face is enough to put a small smile on your own. “I’m planting basil.”

“What’s basil?”

You laugh. Actually laugh. “You want to try some?” You offer her a leaf and she chews it thoughtfully. Gives it an approving face. A thumbs up.

“You should bring some for Joel.” The forwardness of her suggestion is almost shocking, but she seems like the type of kid who says whatever comes to mind. You like that about her. “His cooking is pretty bland.”

Two laughs in one day. This kid is like medicine. “You think so?”

“Mhm. You could come over now. I think he’s on patrol, but he’ll be back soon.”

You think about turning her down, just on reflex. But you like how it feels to laugh, just the way you liked how you had felt in Joel’s arms the other night. So you agree. Her smile is brilliant. 

Minutes later, when she loops her arm through your own, she says, “Hey but don’t tell Joel what I said about his cooking, okay?”

You promise.

Around 7:00PM, he comes through the door, a weary sigh giving him away. “Ellie,” he calls.

“In here!” She’s excited. You’ve prepared a meal: pasta, sundried tomatoes, and the basil plucked from the garden. She’s been picking at the penne with her fingers, unable to wait until he arrives.

Seeing the surprised look on his face when he rounds the corner makes you feel suddenly shy. “I wanted to do something to thank you for last night and, well… Ellie found me in the—”

“Joel, it’s so fucking good.” At this point the muscles in your face are starting to hurt from smiling. 

Over dinner, you actually start to engage in the conversation, and somehow you seem to get along like you’ve known each other for years. In tandem, they work to bring you out of your shell. Your voice is hoarse and face warm by the time you go to leave, but Joel stops you at the door.

“Let me walk you back again.” Your selfish streak is only getting worse. You say yes. You think you see Ellie’s face in the top window as the two of you leave, a devious grin on her face.

Conversation flows on the way, about food, wine, Ellie. It’s comfortable, familiar, but there’s something… 

A yearning, buried under layers of friendly formality. He walks you up your porch and you think, for just a moment, about inviting him inside.

But you’re not quite ready for that just yet. So, you rise up to kiss him on the cheek instead, relishing the stunned look on his face.

Shy again, you back away across the threshold. “Good night, Joel.”

He says it back, and the way your name rolls of his tongue ignites something long dormant within you. You think he might be looking at your lips.

When the door closes, you let out a shuddering breath. And for what seems like the thousandth time that night, you smile.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou angst #my fic #jreadswrites

[alocon]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [2] - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko

Summary: After the release of your first song, released the day before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix weekend, there is some obvious tension in the garage as you and your ex boyfriend have one final fight for the championship.

Warning: Angst? I guess. Use of Y/N (sorry, I don't like using it but there were a couple of times that I had to bc I didn't have any alternatives), some social media at the end.

[The Masterlist] [Previous Part Here] [Next Part Here]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [Part Two] - MV¹

2024 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

Thursday - Media Day

"Lovely to see you all," Crofty said, looking around the group of drivers in the press conference. On the couch was Max, Lando, Charles, Lewis and You. "Firstly, Y/N, all of us over at Sky Sports are loving the new song, it’s been the talk of the paddock all morning too. Lots of us want to know, who is it about?”

You chuckled, knowing that you’d be asked at some point. You hadn’t expected it to be so soon. “Firstly, thank you. I’m glad that so many people have been liking it. Lew and I have literally been working on it since like the start of the year. I’m so thankful that he agreed to do the guitar for me because I wouldn’t have been able to do this without him. As for who it’s about.” You paused, looking quickly at Max, who’s eyes were already on you. You looked at him for a moment before turning your attention back to Crofty, making sure to look at glance at the drivers as you did. “It’s about one of my ex’s. I won’t say which one.”

“And the name. How did you come up with the song name? How are you feeling about this weekend, by the way?”

“It was something that he said to explain why we broke up. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, you know? And sometimes, things aren’t meant to be. And that’s just life. I’m just glad that people like it. I’m so excited for this weekend. As you all know, it’s been hard working towards this weekend, and I’m looking forward to giving Max a hell of a hard time.”

He chuckled, looking at you. Your eyes went straight to him, sending him a competitive grin. “Hope you’re looking forward to P2 in the drivers, buttercup.” Him hitting you with the teasing childhood nickname was a surprise. He started calling you that when you were both 14 because he slipped a buttercup into your hand and it scared the life out of you. So since then, he has never let you live it down. You didn’t even hesitate in your response to him.

“I hope you’re looking forward to seeing me on the top step of the podium, Princess Max.” The glare he shot you was almost instantaneous as Charles started laughing, obviously having understood the reference. 

“Right, just for that, I'm taking you out of the race on turn one.” You recognised that teasing tone in his voice, feeling your stomach flutter a little at that beautiful, happy tone that you had missed being directed at you. But you shook it off. ‘He wasn't meant to be, remember?’ you told yourself as the conference continued.

The moment you got out of the press conference, the atmosphere changed. Max walked straight past you, not even daring to look at you. You and Max still rarely talked. Since the start of 2024 you had become more civil, but you were nowhere near friends. 

Max slumped down onto the seat in his driver's room. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. Fuck. He heard the door open and shut and, moments later, felt a presence on the space beside him on the couch. “Go on, then. What’s up?”

He raised his head to the man, looking at the seriousness all across his face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Max. I was your teammate for like 2 years. I saw the way you loved her and I saw the mess after you broke up. I also just watched that press conference. Start speaking.” Daniel was persistent, to be fair to him. But he also had a point. Over the years, Daniel had heard a lot about how he felt but he never talked about you to him.

“I regret it. Basically every day. It’s not left my mind since I listened to her song.”

“Still? Max, it’s been 6 years since you broke up with her. Also, YOU broke up with HER. Why would you do that if you didn’t want to?”

Max sighed, the memories of his prior conversation coming back to him.

[November 2018]

“You need to break up with her.” The seven words he had always dreaded hearing. Never in a million years would he ever consider breaking up with you. You were his muse, his soulmate. You were the person he wanted to marry, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It was funny, the words that left the man in front of him’s mouth. He knew he had a long shot of ever getting him to do that.

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“She’ll just distract you, Max!” Jos’ voice was already doing Max’s head in and he had only said 12 words so far. ‘What happened to hello, how are you?’ He thought, rolling his eyes at the poor excuse that he spilled.

“As if she had ever distracted me before. Seriously, dad. We have been karting and racing together for years, for our entire relationship, and nothing will change now that we are in the same team.”

And that’s how it became an argument. The pair were shouting at each other. And then the bomb dropped. Jos handed Max a photo, making a comment about how he wouldn’t want it to be leaked. Max looked at the photo, his stomach instantly turning with disgust as he realised the photo that his father had managed to get ahold of and was now using it to threaten him, attempting to get him to break up with you, his person, because he wasn’t a fan of you. Jos never had liked you. Whilst being with you, you had helped Max realise that Jos was not a good person by any means, and Jos didn’t like that. As if on queue, your head poked around the door, quickly apologising when you realised that Jos was there. Jos smiled at you, before speaking. “No problem, I was just leaving. Think about what I said, Max.”

—

“What a dick,” Daniel declared, having taken a few moments to process what Max had just explained.

“Daniel, I miss her so much.”

“I know, mate. I know.” Daniel paused his speaking for a minute, attempting to come up with some kind of recommendation. He was fully aware that Max couldn’t express how he felt in person, so he came up with an idea. “Maybe write her a letter. She likes displays of affection like that.”

Race Day.

Crossing the line was the happiest you had been in a while. The race was excellent. For most of the race, Max and you had been fighting for P1 until he barely managed to get out of your DRS range. He ended up being a good few seconds ahead with 10 laps remaining. You didn't let that get to you, though, opting to keep pushing to the very last lap. And you did, getting closer and closer. However, you would've been perfectly happy if Max won. You both put up a brilliant fight and the drive against him was superb. But then you saw your golden opportunity. You overtook him, riskily but safely and fairly, regaining the lead of the race. Final lap. You heard the radio sound, being disappointed when Christian could be heard through it. “Give Max back the position, please.”

“Why should I?” You were pissed. Once again, they were attempting to strip you of everything you had worked hard for, everything that you wanted and dreamed of. Everything that you and Max talked about when you were kids. One day, he would say, one day we'll both be world champions, driving for Red Bull together and happily in love. Well, that last part didn't happen but you weren't about to give up on that.

“Max has worked so hard for this.”

“Fuck off, Christian, so have I.”

He said your name with venom, chuckling as he spoke. “We have a meeting to sign your contract extension tomorrow, remember. You've got to respect what your boss says if you want to keep driving.”

You scoffed as you crossed the finish line. No congratulations from Christian, a congratulations from your amazing race engineer, of course, but he was quickly shushed by Christian. You knew at least Crofty and Martin would be cheering in that commentary box, likely would be referring to it as the most interesting race since Abu Dhabi 2021 or Bahrain 2022.

Getting out of the car, you saw the red bull team. But they weren't cheering for you, they were cheering for Max. You hugged your engineer, excitedly celebrating your first world championship. The one you had worked so hard for day in and day out. You then rushed to hug a bunch of the drivers who were there, starting with Fernando who finished P3 in the race, as well as the championship. Then you went to them all, starting with Lewis, then Charles and Carlos, then Yuki, then Logan and so on. And then you saw Max. He walked to you, giving you a congratulatory hug. You hugged back, your arms going around his waist. You felt his hands move around your shoulders to your neck, confusion filling you as you pulled away from the hug, noticing the Dutch flag wrapped around your shoulders. “If I won, I was going to wear it to the podium. But this time, it's your turn. Congratulations.”

The post race interview started with Fernando, then only Max. When he was asked about how he felt about losing to you, he, too, referenced your childhood. “On the 14th of February 2012, she asked me what my dream was. I told her that it was for us to both make it to F1. For us to both be world champions, driving in the same team. Together. And a couple other things. Whilst we didn't get those other things, I'm happy that we have finally achieved most of our dreams.” It then went onto you. 

Jenson asked about the race, congratulated you, the normal stuff. He then brought up the request from Horner about letting Max win. He smiled softly, signalling for you to speak as much as you wanted. “To be quite honest, Jens, I think it was a stupid team order. For them to assume that I would willingly give up a championship to give it to someone else is insane. I’ve been listening to his orders for years, letting Max through most of the time I was asked. However, when I don't, all I would receive is a lecture. ‘You should’ve listened to us’ he would say. ‘You didn’t deserve that win, you are lucky you are even driving for us, don’t push your luck.’” Your eyes scanned the crowd as you spoke. Disgust about Christian’s actions was over all the driver’s faces. Including Max, who was clearly surprised. Christian, on the other hand, looked as white as a ghost. You continued speaking.

“However, I am not, by any means, upset with Max. I know that none of this was his fault. It was Christian’s,” you said, pausing to take a breath before saying the next thing. This whole year had built up to this moment. “Which is why I am incredibly happy to announce that the contract renewal meeting will not be necessary, because I will be driving for Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One Team in the 2025 season.” You glanced over to Lewis who had grinned at you, winking, having already known the news. You took this opportunity to lightly tease him about his inability to say the team name. “See, Lew? It’s not that difficult to remember the name.”

“So… Mercedes, huh?”

“Yes, Max. Mercedes. You won’t miss me too much when I’m gone, no?”

He chuckled, sitting on your couch as you packed your stuff up. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Are you going to the Red Bull Team Party later?”

“I wasn’t invited. Never have been.”

“Really?” He watched you nod. “Well, come anyway. Be my plus one, show them who’s the boss.” He stood up, stepping closer to you. “I’m sorry they favoured me. I never rewatched the races so I never saw the radio. I truly am sorry.”

“Max, it wasn’t your fault. I’ll think about your offer, I need to go.”

“Wait.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out some paper. “Read that when you get to the hotel, please.”

—

Y/N,

You’ll have to bear with me, I will try my best not to waffle too much. I struggle to express how I feel through words, so Daniel suggested a letter.

When I think back to 2018, I realised that I never gave you a proper explanation on why I broke up with you. It was not a choice which I wanted to make. If given the choice, I would’ve chose the opposite, however, given the situation, the choice was obvious.

My father threatened me with a photo. I know what you’re thinking. “Why would a photo give you a reason to break up with me?” Jos managed to get a hold of an inappropriate photo of you, one which he threatened to release if I stayed with you. Believe me, if the opportunity was there, we would still be dating now. However, I couldn’t do this to you. I couldn’t let your reputation in the F1 community get destroyed because I decided to be selfish and stay with you. I hope I can be forgiven for this. I loved your song. It might’ve been the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.

I know that our break up was irreparable. I handled it way worse than I should have. However, I again have reason for this. I feared that, if I wasn’t harsh, you would’ve been determined to keep us working. And I have a soft spot for you, I always have done. I would do anything for you in a heartbeat.

I know I never said it when we were together, and I know that I should have, but I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before. I have since the day we met to the current day. I’m planning to give this letter to you the day of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, after the race, but it was written before. I hope you know that, no matter what, even if you win the championship, nothing will ever stop me feeling devoted to you. You are my life, my soul, my person. I will love you until the day I take my last breath.

I know we may never be able to repair what we had, but maybe we could just be friends? If so, my number is *** *** *** ***, please message me, schat.

Forever yours,

Maxie xx

-

You messaged him. Of course you did. Deep down, you missed him. He was your person. You were happy he at least wanted to be friends. Sure, he absolutely was a soulmate who wasn't meant to be, but maybe you could at least talk a little more now.

youruser

📍 Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi

liked by maxverstappen1 and others

youruser: and with that, the 2024 season comes to an end. It's been a pleasure, glad to finally have a Championship under my belt x

tagged: maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial, georgerussell63

view all comments

maxverstappen1: Been a pleasure driving with you. Can't wait to have you as proper competition next year x

youruser: It's been a great 6 years, Max. x

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youruser

liked by georgerussell63 and others

youruser: My time at Red Bull Racing has come to an end. This decision was not one I took lightly, however, it took little to no consideration to make this decision. The treatment that I received from Red Bull Racing over the years and, more specifically, Christian Horner, has been one I would not wish upon any driver. That being said, Max, you have been a wonderful teammate. Can't wait to beat you again next year, just in a Mercedes this time. Goodbye Oracle Red Bull Racing, hello Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula One Team. (P.s. Christian, I am bringing my race engineer with me xoxo)

tagged: georgerussell63, maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1

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georgerussell63: Can't wait to be your teammate!!

youruser: so hyped!!

maxverstappen1: Humble yourself, I'll be back to winning the wdc next year

youruser: lmaoooo you wish

mercedesamgf1: What's 4+4??

youruser: ATEEEE

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f1

liked by youruser and others

f1: bet you didn't expect this abu dhabi plot twist!! Our World Champ moves to Mercedes for 2025!!

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maxverstappen1 posted an instagram story!

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-The End-

-Word Count: 2,483 (not incl. social media comments)-

Hi All, I got asked to write a part two so here we go x Sorry if this was bad, it's unedited and it's also currently 1.40am for me. Goodnight everyone, have a good day! Alocon

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[buckyalpine]

Hi! I hope you feel better soon 💜 I have funny lil request if you are at all interested. So Bucky has a lil crush on the reader, and one day walks by their room and hears something that makes him a bit jealous. He hears the reader giggling, and saying stuff jokingly like "Stop Charlie, that tickles!" or "You're so handsome," and Bucky becomes sad because he thinks the reader has found someone. But then he later finds out that the reader was actually dog sitting for a friend. What happens next is up to you, and feel free to change anything to make it more interesting! I chose Charlie as a random dog name that's also human, but its just an example. If you find any inspiration from this, I encourage you to take it in absolutely any direction you want! (as long as it has a happy ending, bc Im a sucker for happy endings hehe)

okay what I find hilarious and amazing about this is I HAVE HAD THIS EXAAACT SAME IDEA, WHY DID I NEVER WRITE IT. THIS IS SO ADORABLE. This is a sign. From the universe.

The only thing I'm changing here is the name because I find it hilarious when dogs have more common people names. 

It started off with your sweet smiles, they’re so contagious, he can’t help but smile back. He starts to find his heart jumping a little whenever you’re around, he almost goes to Bruce to get a medical check up cause why is his heart doing that. Stop that. He can’t control the way you make him blush and he realizes he likes you. Likes you likes you. Its a cute little crush he has that he tries to keep a secret because its just a little crush, nothing to get worked up over. 

He’s too scared to ask you out, he gets tongue tied the second he tries to attempt anything. 

It all goes sideways he walks by your room one day. 

"Daniel, bubba you're too heavy to be lying on me like this!"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Maybe he heard wrong. 

"Baby, stop that tickles"

Baby? You never mentioned dating anyone before.

"Hey! You can't get away with that just because you're so handsome"

Bucky blinked, his jaw clenching, who the fuck was this Daniel, and why he with you. He wanted to know exactly how “handsome” this punk was, making you giggle and laugh, he should be the one doing that. 

"Hmmm, you know you're so handsome don't you baby"

Bucky shook his head, huffing to his room to pout, he had to find out who the hell this guy was. Or not. If was sure he’d probably punch the guy in the neck. 

Imagine his surprise when he over hears the team just casually talking to you about Daniel. 

With Sam

Sam: So how's Daniel doing? You: He's good, I'm going to see him later today if I have some time, we might go for a walk in the park

Sam: Aww, the weather’s supposed to be nice out, maybe you can even stop by the lake!

With Tony

You: Daniel's coming over later, is that okay?

Tony: Sure, just don't make a mess in the living room like last time

You: Sorry, I'll keep him in check

Tony: He’s great otherwise, you should bring him around more often

Bucky nearly saw stars with that conversation, the last thing he needed was more of you and Daniel. The final straw was when he heard you talking to Steve. 

Steve: You think I can steal Daniel from you

You: I’m sure he’d love that, he loves going on runs with you, I can’t keep up with his energy 

Steve: He’s great, wish he was around more often, let me know when he’s coming by next

Okay, stealing his crush was one thing, but Bucky drew the boundary at this clown moving in on his best friend too. 

*****

“Can you tell me what the hell is so great about Daniel” Bucky huffed, fidgeting with his fingers, sitting on the couch while Sam tinkered with redwing. 

“What do you mean what’s so great, he’s amazing! He’s friendly, he’s great with kids, he’s super sweet, gets along with everyone. You haven’t met him?” 

“No” Bucky rolled his eyes, every time he thought it was bad, it got worse. Now the guy was great with kids too. Fantastic. Before Sam could respond, Bucky hear you call for him. 

“Oh my God Bucky!! You have to meet Daniel!” You ran up to him, bouncing on your feet. Every time Daniel had come by, Bucky had either been called away on a mission or busy with something. You’d been dying for him to meet your favorite baby in the whole world. 

“I was busy y/n” Bucky tried to sound grumpy but he just couldn’t with you, pouting like a kicked puppy instead. He might as well meet the guy that seemed to have your heart. 

“You were just sitting with Sam, please?” You gave him your best pout and Bucky melted instantly, nodding while you ran back again to show your favorite soldier your best fur baby. 

Bucky’s eyes widened at the massive golden retriever that came bounding in, immediately pouncing on him and attacking him with kisses. 

“Daniel!!” You tried to pull him off but he wasn’t having it, trying to snuggle himself into Bucky, keeping him pinned on the floor. “Baby, get off him, I told you you’re too big!”

“This-this is Daniel?” Bucky blinked between getting his face licked, too stunned to say much else

“Yeah! Why, who did you think it was” 

“Your boyfriend” Sam snorted, watching the scene unfold in front of him, wiggling his eye brows at Bucky. 

“I-no-” Bucky blushed, while sitting up slightly, petting the fluffy baby behind the ears, allowing him to sit in his lap. 

“Man, shut up, just admit you were jealous over y/n 4 legged boyfriend” 

“Did you think Daniel was my boyfriend?” you giggled, sitting down beside him, your heart beating a little faster when he bit his lip. Did he like you back? “Were you jealous?” you whispered, inching a little closer to him, while he smiled softly not meeting your eyes. 

“Maybe a little” 

You both inched closer and closer until your hand was brushing his, his fingers hesitantly intertwining with yours while Daniel happily made himself comfortable across your laps, his head resting on Bucky’s thigh. Tony and Steve entered the living room looking pleased when they saw how close the two of you were sitting. 

“Ah, I see you met y/n’s boyfriend” Tony snorted while Bucky groaned, covering his face. “Cheating on Daniel now are we?” He nodded at your hand in Bucky’s while you laughed, kissing his cheek, making him blush more. 

“Hmm, Bucky doesn’t mind a little competition” 

“I hate all of you” 

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[fleurriee]

FLEURR CAN YOU DO

“you make me want to be better. you make me want to be good.” - grumpy

“i knew there was a big softie under all that tough exterior” - sunshine

with neteyam? i live for ur work

i didn’t know whether you wanted neteyam to be grumpy or sunshine, so i’ve gone with grumpy bc sometimes he just looks like a grumpy cat 😩 tysm for the request, im glad you’re enjoying my work anonie!!! 2k drabbles!

pairing ; neteyam x fem!reader

synopsis ; you were all sunshine and rainbows, and neteyam couldn’t help but feel like he was a thunderstorm threatening your happiness.

themes ; fluff, slight angst, grumpy!neteyam x sunshine!reader

Neteyam was a hardened warrior - the entire clan knew that. He’d grown up with the tough training of his father, day in and day out doing drills and archery and gun work until it bled him dry. At first, he remembered thinking that it truly was going to be the death of him, but as the time went by, and he went through more sessions, going up higher in the ranks until he finally became respected by his elders, he grew to somewhat enjoy it.

And, whilst that should be considered a good thing - because their clan would always be needing more warriors like their prince - it slowly started to change him. His true personality never changed, but whenever he was in public, surrounded by others, he kept up this tough exterior that allowed others to realise that they shouldn’t mess with him. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d decided on doing it in the first place, maybe it was just something that happened naturally - but all the same, he couldn’t stop doing it now.

There were times where his tough exterior came in handy, too. People never bothered him nearly as much as they used to, too scared to try and spark up a conversation just in case he’d bite back and send them off to do intense, exhausting training; whenever Lo’ak got in trouble and ended up starting fights with others, all he really had to do was show up and glare them down, and they’d go scurrying off.

He basked in that kind of attention, but not when it came to you.

You and Neteyam weren’t mates, but you weren’t far off - Neteyam would make sure of it. The two of you had been seeing one another for a little while now, after having met through his youngest sister, Tuk, after he’d picked her up from one of your lessons. As soon as his eyes lay upon you, he’d fallen, completely smitten and head over heels for you. Right then and there, he knew there was no one else even in the line up for him.

At first, it was hard for him to truly get across how he’d felt about you. You were all sunshine and rainbows, smiling giddily and greeting everyone you came across, whereas he felt like a black cloud, destined to ruin your mood.

But, somehow, you’d managed to fall for him, too, and he never ended up thundering down on you - instead, he only seemed to make you shine more.

Not many people knew of your relationship - his family knew, instantly noticing a subtle crack in that harsh exterior of his, more so whenever you were nearby, and your family, too. Neither of the lot had any objections, thankfully, and they let you be yourselves in your own time.

More often than not, the two of you would find yourselves running off, away from the growing crowd and into an expanse of the forest that was so much more calmer, much more serene. It gave peace to his mind, able to block all the other raging thoughts within his head and just focus solely on you.

That was all he ever wanted to do.

Now, as the the moons started to show, shining down upon your resting figures, and the wind cascaded against everything around you, kissing a gentle breeze across your skin therapeutically, you lay your head comfortably against Neteyam’s legs. His hand was coursing softly through your hair, massaging your head every now and again until you felt like you were just moments away from sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke up for the first time in a while. His voice was just a mere, quiet whisper, barely audible if you hadn’t been listening to your surroundings.

Opening your eyes, you noticed how he seemed to be struggling to look at you, focusing on anything else that he could. His eyes were halfway closed, soft and saddened. It broke your heart to see him like that.

“What for?” you questioned, your own voice now slightly broken.

A deep sigh racked from the back of his throat, seemingly contemplating his next words, licking his lips before he spoke. Still, he wouldn’t look at you. “For not being able to give you everything you deserve.”

In an instant, you’re sitting up, moving your body around until you’re facing him. Your tail curls subconsciously around his leg, almost as though to comfort him without words. “What are you talking about?” you ask him, a breathy, unbelieving laugh falling from your lips. “You already give me enough, ‘teyam.”

Your soft words ring through his mind, echoing from one corner to the other until that’s all he can hear - because that’s all he needs to hear. To him, you’re absolutely everything, his everything. You deserve the entire world and more, but, sometimes, he can’t help but feel as though he isn’t giving you enough. So, hearing you say it started to bring him back to his senses - if he wasn’t, surely you would’ve left him by now, right?

A small smile starts to make its way onto his lips, the edges curving up just the tiniest fraction, something you wouldn’t have spotted if you weren’t intently admiring him. Shaking his head to himself, he sighs breathily. “It’s just…” he tries, struggling for the truth in the words he wants to scream out loud. He was never good at this, but he’d try for you. “You make me want to be better. You make me want to be good.”

With a sympathetic smile upon your lips, tilting your head to the side admiringly, you tut at him. “‘Teyam, you are good. You’re the best you can be - I love you just the way you are.”

Surprise courses across all his features, all his senses, until he’s sure there’s never been anything else he’s ever focused on in his entire life. His eyes widen, ears standing high and tail flicking wildly behind him, like it has a mind of its own.

I love you just the way you are.

For a moment, you don’t even realise what you’d just said to him, too caught up in the moment of reassuring him to fully comprehend anything else. But, after a few seconds past and he doesn’t say anything, just continues on staring, you repeat your own words in your head.

I love you just the way you are.

I love you.

You and Neteyam had never said those three words before - and you definitely hadn’t said I see you - because you were still in the fairly early stages of your relationship. However, that didn’t mean to say that you didn’t still love him - you just thought it was too early to actually say them out loud.

For the longest time, you knew for certain you’d felt this way. How could you not - he was Neteyam Sully, the mighty warrior and future Olo’eyktan. You knew you’d always love him, no matter what, but you hadn’t exactly planned for him to find out in such a way.

Mouth open agape, reading for some form of explanation to come his way, you never got to fumble for an excuse. No - Neteyam wouldn’t let you. Instead, he’d eventually come out of his shocked reverie, placing his hands delicately on the sides of your face and pressing one of the most gentle kisses upon your lips, immediately swallowing your words.

Warmth tingled down your spine, accompanied by chills, basking in the affection he was radiating. Your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his lips against your own, but it didn’t last long.

Too quickly, Neteyam pulled away, smile brighter and eyes shinier than you’d ever seen them. “I love you, too, sevin (pretty).”

Cheeks darkening at his same admittance, a giddy laugh escaped from your lips in pure bliss. This was Neteyam Sully - one of the scariest, most intimidating Na’vi within the Omatikaya clan - and, here he was, confessing his love for little, old you.

As you gazed at one another lovingly, neither of you quite being able to believe the situation you’d found yourselves in, you send him a teasing smirk. “I knew there was a big softie under all that tough exterior.”

He rolls his eyes at you, pushing away playfully as he listens to your beautiful laugh. There was nowhere else he’d rather be in this moment, he’d decided, and he slowly started to learn that he didn’t care if others saw him like this. If it made you happy, he’d do anything.

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎ #2k drabble special #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam x pregnant reader #dad!neteyam #dad neteyam