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tteokdoroki · 2 days

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hurricane heartbreak katsuki bakugou ── ᡣ𐭩 ˙ ̟🩰 !!

⋆˙ᝰ about ! you’ve always thought that katsuki would follow you to the ends of the earth, until suddenly, he stops. especially when he realises that he’s better off without you. ( 2.6K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, no happy ending. characters aged up to 20s, unrequited love, friendship breakups, regular breakups, confessions, gaslighting, reader is morally flawed and a bad friend, katsuki is a hopeless romantic :(, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou - not beta read!

as usual, katsuki moves to open the door before his mind can catch up.

he knows that he shouldn’t. if he kept the doors locked he could keep his heart safe from the ache that comes with the person on the other side. but, the bigger and weaker half of him succumbs to the longing laced in the blood that soars through the beating muscle keeping him alive. the same muscle every form of media since the dawn of time has associated with the human desire to be loved and adored.

it’s a human code that he can’t go against, like asking a neanderthal to fight it’s basic instincts. katsuki opens the door not because he wants to, but because he has to, even if his entire body twitches against the will of his one track mind and his hand lands on the cool metal doorknob in advance of his logical train of thought. besides, it’s raining tonight, and it would be cruel to leave you outside.

as usual, when you step past the threshold of the number two hero’s lush, bachelor pad-like home — he expects things to be different. for you to waltz in with your arms wide spread and a spark of joy in your eyes because you love seeing the blonde and because you missed him.

“it was so horrible,” you wail to him instead, just as you had done so on the phone — except this time, the cadence to your usually bright voice is as dull and as dreary as the weather outside. “he blew up at me, said that we were done ‘n that i was too clingy. just like that,” pouting, you shrug off your rain-slicked jacket and allow your best friend to hang it up for you. before you can start quivering like a pathetic stray dog, the begrudgingly kind pro hero places a set of clothes, warm and fresh from the dryer, into your hands and ushers you deeper into the space he calls home.

“fuck that guy,” he tells you, while you rant to him on the walk down the hall.

katsuki lets you you dry off and disappear into his room for spare clothes (as if you own the place), giving himself time to think and reflect. the you that katsuki knows and has bitterly come to love is hollowed and desperate — vying for any attention or affection she can get from people who just don’t care. he’s never understood it, the reasons why you go vying for the validation of others who don’t deserve a millisecond of your time, let alone your precious smile.

you know, the one that brings out the crows feet at the corners of your doe-like eyes and lifts the edges of your glossed lips ever so slightly. you illuminate a room and fill it with warmth when you’re happy and feel loved but when you’re like this… thrown out into the rain whilst being hungry for more — much like that of a stray…

…it’s bakugou’s hand that reaches out to feed you tender love and care from the pieces of his own broken soul. he does everything im his power to make you smile again, otherwise he’d shake the heavens from the sky and bring their shattered pieces back down to earth with his destructive quirk…for you.

everything is always for you.

katsuki is the one who deserves to see your radiant grin and be the one that’s always on your mind. so perhaps, he is no better than you, starved with a craving for the attention of someone whose thoughts are simply elsewhere. with someone else.

you resurface from his room wearing a discontinued all-might shirt with an iron-on design that’s cracked on the front and a pair of fluffy dynamight themed socks kept spare in katsuki’s wash for whenever you come over. by this time he’s already popped on the kettle for some herbal tea, though his back remains facing you — fingers clenched against his smooth marble countertop. “why would he say that?”

you shrug. “i don’t know… i probably deserve it. this always happens.”

to his right, the kettle’s whistle reaches it’s crescendo but katsuki doesn’t bother to add hot water to your tea.

the assessment you make as you pad back over to katsuki is only partly correct. he turns abruptly, prepped and ready to loosely wrap his arms around you in a familiar hug, another step in this bi-monthly routine the two of you have going. your nose presses into the middle of his molten chest, sending a pang through his heart like an arrow from Cupid whilst simultaneously riling up the butterflies in his tummy. you’re so cute, so sweet and it makes the blonde feel special to be able to witness the more vulnerable parts of you — the parts of you pieced back together by inexpensive glue after you’ve been shattered by heartbreak once more.

you, you’re too sweet to deserve this pain. the same pain that weighs down on the pro hero’s shoulders because he can’t stop chasing after you. this always happens, but you don’t deserve it. even if it’s like some sort of cathartic karma for leading bakugou on all of these years.

nonetheless, he’s never been the best at comforting people but a selfish warmth that burns brighter than his quirk spans throughout katsuki’s body whenever you seek comfort in him. even if all it does is chip away at his soul, knowing that you’re all torn up about someone else and someone that isn’t him yet again.

katsuki abandons the tea completely.

however, his cherry lips continue to open and close in search of words and phrases that may sedate your storm of emotions before they rain down on him — just like the world outside. they’re hard to come by, meaningful ones at least, so katsuki settles with a simple… “you deserve better.”

“yeah? well it doesn’t seem like it. every guy i’ve ever met has hurt me some way, somehow.” you quip blandly, obliviously. “who does better even look like?

me. is what bakugou wants to say. he looks like me. but now isn’t the time or place to tell you that, it’s never been. deep down, he knows that you might never see him that way, as a someone who could treat you right, as someone deserving of your darkest desires and sweet nothings, as someone who could be the very person you deserve to grow old with. you don’t look at him the same way, to you, katsuki will always be your best friend and source of comfort.

he’ll never be a lover or a special one or a boyfriend.

not to you.

never to you.

and sadly, he almost feels content to stay this way — if it means he’ll be able to have you near. with the two of you tucked away in one another’s arms, swaying to the melody of harmonious wind and rain, the abrasive, corroding nature of katsuki bakugou is tamed and the world comes to a standstill that feels sort of homely. its familiar, a routine he’s so easily settled into time and time again. confessing to you would be like disrupting the natural course of your relationship and bakugou has seen what you do to guys who cross your limits or suddenly no longer entertain you. sometimes they genuinely do hurt you, other times you’re like a little girl who no longer has a desire to play with her favourite toy — easily casting them aside. the blonde would hate to be one of them, to be thrown out by the person he loves most.

“you’ll find someone,” he says gruffly, after some time.

pulling away slightly and with a hand centre stage on katsuki’s ooey-gooey lovesick chest, you smile ever so gently. and it’s enough for him, even though it burns, it’s enough to make it worth it. all this suffering in silence, loving you from afar…that is, until he hears what you have to to say next.

“i wish i could find someone like you, kats.”

the rain outside has hit its peak, bordering on the edge of torrential as it drowns the concrete jungle outside and the grey clouds it pours from shroud the city in a similar darkness to the veil falling over katsuki’s mind. now that, it really pisses his off. someone like him? why not him? he doesn’t understand why you actively put yourself through the ringer when what you want is right before your very eyes.

like a sudden clap of thunder or a strike of bright lightning, katsuki has a realisation. he isn’t so sure how much more of this he can stomach or take. a few weeks ago his best friend, kirishima, had scolded him long and hard for allowing you to walk all over the explosive pro hero. maybe the redhead had been right, your words seem almost purposeful and calculated — designed to hit him right where it hurts. whether or not you’re aware of the fact.

“y’can’t keep doing this.” comes the blonde’s whisper, coasting just under his breath, so low that you almost miss it underneath the howling notes of the wind.

“what?”

“please stop doing this.” bakugou says again, but firmer, shrugging your hands from his well-built torso like they’ve given him an electric shock. a flash of hurt lines itself across your beautifully crafted features like a film of dust clinging to a marble carved sculpture belonging to an art museum. he hates it, how he can still admire you and treasure you even when you torture him with a punishment of unrequited love. “you can’t keep comin’ here every time you get your heart broken, knowing how i feel about you. it’s fucked up, you’re fucking me up.”

people have only ever dreamed of being able to bring the great dynamight down to his knees. a man of such power and force could never be shaken, especially with everything that he’s been through to get where he is today.

the colour in your voice pales, the glint to your eyes dulls and you nervously reach out for your best friend only to be rejected which hurts more than any shitty break up you’ve ever had. “k-katsuki…kats, what are you talking about?”

“you know exactly what i mean. don’t try to gaslight me or some shit.” katsuki puts it simply, fighting the lump in his throat that nearly stops him from being truthful. it’s always been a difficult task to push you away, “we play pretend, you come to me expectin’ me to lick your wounds ‘n shit. fuck, i’ve been doing it for the last ten years. since todoroki first rejected you in high school, then that guy from class 1B and then shindou from that other school once we went pro.”

he rambles relentlessly and you take every word while memories of each heartbreak flash brightly before your very eyes. it’s clear to you now, standing in front of him, that bakugou has been holding this, whatever this is, inside for far too long. concealing his emotions until his fuse was at its end and it all exploded to the surface. “katsuki stop it.” you say weakly, throat dry.

“fuck no! why should i?” the brash blonde spits venomously, his upper lip curling into an ugly sneer. one you’ve only ever seen when he’s talking to villains, or better yet, talking about your exes. “because it never stopped for me. you never stopped using me.” he blabs, but he’s hardly shouting — the mere fact that he isn’t freaks you out even more. “it’s so fucked up, i’ve been waiting for a chance with you for years. i never said yes to someone fuckin’ loving me for who i am. for all the shit that i come with because i was waitin’ for you.” for nearly a decade you’ve been offering katsuki all the riches in the world, only to pry them from his warmth fingers and leave him for cold and death.

you could apologise right then and there, make things right, tell katsuki that it was him all along and those other guys meant nothing to you. it’s what he wants so badly, it’s the only thing that could make him forget all of this drama and take you back into his arms. instead, you retreat like a hermit crab back into its shell, stepping back and away from your best friend while selfishly curling in on yourself.

“i didn’t… i didn’t ask you to wait.”

those words are like a lightening strike to the chest. the white flashbang outside illuminates your face for katsuki to see, guilt outlines the natural slopes and continue of your face and some kind of regret floods the black ink on your eyes. bakugou’s suspicions have been proven true. you’ve never wanted him, not in the way that he’s wanted you. it must be that. must be that you kept him around knowing he’d chase shooting stars and run to the end of a rainbow if it meant the prize was you.

“you didn’t have to,” katsuki’s breathing turns ragged, mimicking the uncontrollable winds of a brewing storm, and his anxiety peaks, spilling over the edge of a glass he’d tried to keep half full for so long. he knew this, all along, he knew that you’d reject him plain and simple but why does it feel like his world is ending. “would have done it anyways ‘cause i am…was… in love with you. you didn’t need to ask me because you knew i'd always be there.”

it hurts, the truth, it burns like acid rain dissolving through a manmade structure. you hate the taste of it in the air, as katsuki’s words ring through it — undermining the heavy rain pelting down against his roof. you don’t know what to say or tell him, but instead of the contentedness of being close to the blonde you now feel a sudden sense of impending doom. an epiphany. a realisation that you’re going to lose your best friend because you took advantage of a bleeding heart.

you’ve never been the only one whose organs were ripped out and ever-loving corpse was left for dead. each time pieces of you died at every soul-crushing rejecting you’ve ever faced — katsuki has been right behind you, falling to pieces, decomposing, breaking apart… watching you mourn a relationship with someone else.

someone that wasn’t him.

words and apologies tangle in your throat and form a knot that blocks their passage. what do you even say to someone who has inadvertently confessed their love for you — something in which you’re not sure you even believe in anymore? “i-i’m… i’m sorry,” slowly, you take a step forward, blindly reaching out for katsuki in his living room shrouded by darkness and only temporarily lit up my lightening crashes. but he steps back, he retreats into a person he used to be — one that was nasty and cruel despite how much he cared.

bearing his fangs, katsuki defends himself from the only person who could truly ever hurt him. you. his walls build up and he snarls again. “i don’t care.” though, his voice wobbles and his eyes are glossy under the harsh white light of the lightening by strikes outside — he remains defensive.

“i’m sorry,” you sullenly repeat. for what? not loving him? for using him? you’re not sure. “katsuki…i’m sorry—“

you sound so genuine, your voice so sweet and sorrowful — it’s almost enough to make the man melt, for his walls to fall away and his heart to open back up just for you. but bakugou knows better, if gives in and steps closer and holds you once more — the cycle will repeat. you’ll know that you can come to him whenever you want, and take advantage of his pathetic yearning and devotion to you. over and over again, for as long as you want. because if you call he’ll answer, always.

not this time though.

katsuki bakugou steels himself as though he’s facing his greatest foe, his jaw hardens, his ruby red eyes flutter shut and his head shakes and he tries so hard to resist you. when he finally looks at you again, after what feels like an eternity, you’re hopeful in thinking that maybe this can be fixed and you can keep your best friend. however, you’ve seen katsuki’s expression on a dozen other faces before.

that look people give you when they tell you it’s over, when they grow tired of you, when they leave you.

you know it all too well, the face of someone breaking up with you.

except this time you’re not losing a half baked love, this time you’re losing someone who adored every part of you even if it was severely flawed.

you’re losing your best friend. your katsuki.

and all it took was the clouds parting and the heavens crying for you to realise that.

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boiohboii · 1 day

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A broken house

(Charles leclerc x daughter! Reader)

Masterlist

I just saw remembered this heartbreaking scene from an old theatre play (is that what they're called?), like when colors on tv first became a thing old, and I just had to write it down. WARNING: implications of cheating, abandoning children, Charles is not a good guy at all, a daughter confronting her dad, not proofread, just something quick right before bed

Charles never imagined he would ever be in this situation.

When he first held yn in his arms, his precious, precious daughter, his oldest and the apple of his eyes, he vowed to never hurt her, to never see her cry and to never let her expirence heartbreak, so what was he supposed to do when she's standing right in front of him cheeks flushed, fists by her side and angry tears falling out of her eyes.

He was the reason, he was the reason and he never thought he'd be. And to make it all worse, he doesn't feel sorry. He doesn't know where it all went wrong and he doesn't know when he became so cold-hearted towards the sunshine of his life, his pride and joy. But it's too late now, too late to try and talk, too late to try to explain and too late to even get a speck of the love yn held in her eyes for him. He knew it was too late. It was just too late.

"So what," yn refused to accept her father's silence, she needed to hear him say it, admit to his wrongdoings "you're just gonna leave us?"

"You don't understand," Charles tried to reason, his eyes not even meeting his daughter's identical ones "she needs help."

"THAT'S YOUR REASON!" yn's voice boomed through the empty house, thanking anything and everything that her mother and siblings aren't home yet "that's your reason to abandon us! What about mum huh? what about your wife? The woman WHO SACRIFICED HER YOUTH FOR YOU! TO FOLLOW YOU! TO HELP YOU! And what of my siblings, what are they gonna do? What did they do to deserve this? What did any of us do to deserve this?"

Yn looked at her father, slowly walking towards him, she refused to believe that's the same man who showed her what love is, who carried her on her shoulders to hear her laughter, who promised to sheild her from the world's treachery. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, the man who promised to protect her is the one clawing at her heart and watching it bleed, too much of a coward to even lift his eyes from the floor.

"Please," yn's voice broke as she thought of her home tearing apart, her mother and her baby siblings "please take a moment and think about it, about our family, just for five minutes. Please."

"I'm not going to waste my time."

Yn's breath hitched in her throat, her voice gaining power as her disappointment and anger took over, yet still so quite.

"All four of us don't even deserve five minutes of your time. Are you that impatient to leave with her? Don't worry, I won't hold you back, but I swear to you, I swear on everything that you believe in that you will regret it. There will be a day where you will wish for the time to go back for an hour, a minute or even a second, you will wish you'd have thought this through and really kept in mind who actually loved you before you ruined it all. But even if all the years turn back, we will never forgive you, we will never miss you and we will never think of you as the man you once were. We will never love you again."

Yn doesn't know where it all went wrong, she doesn't know how could 20 years of loving someone, your father, all just go down the drain because of one voice call. She doesn't know what she's supposed to do or what's she supposed to tell her mother, her siblings, her grandparents, but she knew one thing; it was too late to try and talk her father out of it, too late to not let this moment tarnish all the good memories they had together, too late to even leave a bit of her love for her father in her heart. It was just too late.

#charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x daughter reader #daughter reader #f1 x reader #f1 x daughter reader #f1 imagine #charles x yn #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #family angst fic #f1 angst fic #f1 angst #charles daughter fic #charles leclerc daughter fic #f1 x teenage reader

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tuwlips · 3 days

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Yours Truly 🪷

contents: Arrange marriage trope | 3 year age gap | Slow burn | Angst | One sided love?

Being married to Nanami Kento through arranged marriage has been nothing but beautiful all this time.

Never having been in a relationship before, you were nervous. You never dated or had a boyfriend and now straight to marriage? What if this ends really badly.

You didn't get married right away. Two months into getting to know each better, if it feels right and all.

Amidst these two months, you and Kento became good friends. A bit comfortable now with each other's presence. Not to mention how he has been nothing but a gentleman. He was your type. Older than you by 3 years, had a stable job, respectful, kind, handsome. Most importantly, he listened to you, understood you. You slowly fell in love with him. Your husband to be.

From Kento's side, you were adorable. A bright bubble. Which balances his nonchalant persona really well. He could listen to you all day. You make him laugh, make him happy. Before he even realized it, he started to long for your presence.

Kento was not inexperienced, no. In fact, he dated someone before he met you. But alas, things didn't work out and they both had to part ways. First love always hurts and it hurt Kento bad.

He actually wasn't interested in getting married anymore. After the heartbreak he thought he would end up alone.

But then miracle happened and now in a few weeks he was going to marry you. The one who made his mundane life bright with her existence.

After marriage however, things were happy but you felt a hint of loneliness.

Kento became a bit distant. Yes he was still nurturing and caring towards you. But you felt a wall in between. While you poured your heart out to him, he didn't do the same. To you it seemed like he.. didn't care?

You took it as a one sided love. How pathetic, unrequited love in your own marriage. How much more miserable could you be? You had no one to love before and now when you finally have someone in your life, it's one sided. Love was cruel.

It hurt all the more knowing he had a first love and you can never be that. Was he still hung up on her? He did mention before getting married how much his first relationship meant to him and how much it affected him.

Silent tears were wept when he wasn't home. Sleeping on the same bed but seperately. Is that even possible?

Kento was never open to you in a physical sense. You never held hands or hugged. You didn't even kiss despite being married. Not even a soft kiss on the cheek.

While you were completely inexperienced, not having your first kiss or being even on a date let alone holding hands, Kento wasn't.

He did it all. Holding hands, went on his first date. He had his first kiss, his... first time and it was all in that one relationship which was before his marriage with you. It was all with his first love. All the more reason to hurt because you knew about that, you knew how special first times were, you knew all about his first relationship.

One of the things you love about Kento is his complete honesty. When you asked about his first relationship or if he has ever been in a relationship out of curiosity, he told you everything. He didn't want to keep anything from you and for you to later find it out after marriage. He told you everything so that you can make your decision about him.

Of course he was allowed to have a relationship. Why wouldn't he be. Plus this all happened years before he met you. Four years to be exact. Is he still hung up on his first love? Did he not like you even a little bit?

Slowly you started to distant yourself from him. Morning conversations turned into notes left on tables and fridge. Lunch time phone calls turned into unseen messages.

Nanami isn't naive, nor is he ignorant. He picked up your distant behavior. How you don't tell him all about your day anymore just a "it was okay" when asked about your time at work. How you didn't ask him back about his day.

Warm welcoming mornings turned into cold greetings when Kento woke up and saw you already left without telling him. He used to drop you off to work but suddenly one day you told him your work schedule changed and you had to be early at work. Yes you lied, but it's fine. It's fine....

You didn't sound as cheerful and bubbly anymore. Rather conversations became awkward and silent. The person who once used to tell him a lot of things now didn't utter a single word unless necessary.

You and Nanami were total opposites. While Nanami was mature and composed. You were a bit childlike and found joy in the littlest of things. Not that he minded your childlike personality. In fact, he admired how simple you were. A breathe of fresh air. It was so easy to just, be with you. You gave such simple solutions to his complex problems.

His previous relationship, both him and his partner were a bit alike. Hardworking, mature and adult. That's his type, at least it's what he always thought until you came along.

Afternoons turned lazy with you into taking naps. Showing him a new game and how to play it, the little things you collect and asking him his favorite things. He enjoyed these little moments with you so much. He missed them.

He missed you.

He hated how you were slowly fading away from him. Hated how your smile wasn't as bright as before. Hated how he couldn't figure out what the reason was. When did communication between you get so hard?

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento angst #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #comfort character #deeply in love with Nanami #nanami x reader angst #nanamin

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caffeineforbucky · 3 days

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Cruel Summer

Summary: After a two-year absence from your family, you return home for your father's birthday and unexpectedly reconnect with his friend, John Price. A serendipitous attraction emerges, leading to a challenging summer.

Pair: 'Captain' DBF!John Price x AFAB!Reader

WC: 2,008

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+, Age gap. Reader is 26 and John is 37, swearing, longing, some fluff...? Lemme know if I missed any

A/N: I fear it's been a minute since I wrote anything for this blog. This fic might be a few parts. It's been sitting in my drafts for freaking months and I was too excited to get the first part out.

BY CLICKING KEEP READING, YOU ARE CONFIRMING THAT YOU'RE 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Come on, honey," Your mother's voice resonates in the emptiness of your small kitchen, and the sting in your eyes makes it hard to focus, vision blurring with a haze of murkiness.

With the heel of your palm, you brush away the lamentation on your lashes, heedless in your movements, as you shove a couple of hoodies, books, and other insignificant items into a box—a box of your ex's things. The things he left behind.

"Your dad hasn't seen you in two years. His birthday is coming up in a couple of days, and the only thing he talks about missing his little girl."

That manages to make you smile, if only for a moment. A fleeting glimpse of happiness amidst your heartbreak. "Ryder's there. Dad can have his little boy there instead."

Ryder—your older brother. He was only five years older than you, but while growing up together, you two were inseparable. There was the occasional bickering and fighting, but like all siblings, you grew apart.

He had his life, and you had yours.

"I can hear your dumbass, you know that, don't you?" He tuts through the speaker of your cell phone, and it causes you to snort. He was already with the rest of your family since flying in the night before. Ryder's remark is met with hushes from your mom before she playfully shoves him to continue the phone call with you. Just like old times.

"I don't know, ma..." You mumble, trying your bestest to make it sound like you aren't crying. You knew she worried about you. More than you would've liked, but she was your mother. My job is to worry. She would say. "I've got a lot going on over here and—"

She cuts you off before you can finish.

"Please? I will have to tell your dad when he asks, and he'll start crying and... just come. Even if it's for a day or two. He really wants to see you, and so do I. I miss my baby."

A heavy sigh escapes you, letting your face fall into your palms to wipe the rest of your tears with the tips of your fingers. As badly as you want to refuse, the guilt of not seeing your family in so long starts to creep in, trying to gnaw its way into your conscience.

"Okay, Mom," You finally relent after a couple minutes of silence. You knew how much your parents missed you, and you'd let the lust for independence take you away from the people you loved most, and that was something to feel guilty about. "I'll come."

Your mother's excited squeal makes you flinch, and for some reason, her felicity causes a few more tears to slip down your cheeks, even if you manage a soft chuckle. "Oh, I'm so excited. Your dad is going to flip. I gotta make up your room and—Ryder! I'll talk to you soon, baby. We can't wait to see you."

There were a plethora of responsibilities John had to fulfill when he agreed to attend his best friend’s birthday. He had a job; a task force to forefront. A war to conquer. Nevertheless, he was here, in the backyard of said friends' beach house.

He was used to noise. The bustling crowds of civilians, obnoxious music, and the occasional yelps of children chasing each other around. It all resonated as white noise; his ears filtering out what wasn’t of import.

The smell of grilled hamburger patties permeated the air, his eyes focused on the finesse of each flip.

The tap of his fingers drummed rhythmically against the neck of his beer bottle, smiling and nodding as your father went on and on about his endeavors during his time in the Army.

A broken record; really. The stories weren’t new, at least, not to him—having been a part of those tales himself. The hardships and challenges of having to partake in such horrific adventures. If you can even call them that. Your father had such a colorful vernacular.

John’s eyes looked up in a lazy sweep as he heard the sound of your mother’s voice emitting as the back door slid open. As he took another swig of his beer, there you were.

The man almost choked. The beer comes back up in a fit of coughs, earning a few swats on the back from your father.

“You okay, John?” Your father eyed him humorously, chuckling as he flipped a couple more burgers.

John couldn’t speak, solely nodding as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, mindful of drying off his facial hair.

Fucking hell…

Clad in a cream-colored sundress, every dip and curve of your body was accentuated, the swell of your assets making his mouth water. You were an absolute dream. A fantasy he couldn’t imagine ever thinking of. You were stunning.

He let his eyes trace the outline of your body, from the cherry pattern on your dress to the pretty little red ballet flats you had on.

John had prided himself in being devout to his career. Nothing came between him or it. In his thirty-seven years of being alive, he never once tried to settle down or even dabble in a relationship for fear of never giving enough or never being present. He’d have the occasional fuck, but that was once in a while.

His life wasn’t promised; not in the way he had any control over. Then again, who does?

For the first time since joining the Army, he thought of marriage, and he immediately shook that thought away.

He nudged your father, making him turn toward the profile of his face. With his hand still wrapped around the neck of the bottle, he gestured towards you. “Is that—“

“Ah, there she is!” Your father rejoiced, setting down the spatula as you headed towards where they both stood, your mother trailing behind. John stood idle as he watched you move into your dad’s arms with a semi-forced smile.

“Hey, Dad.” You greet him, letting him rock you back and forth in a tight embrace. “Happy birthday.” Regardless if you’d arrived the day before, your dad was still excited that you were here.

"Thank you, pumpkin."

John watched the interaction from the corner of his eye, a strange feeling tugging at his gut. You were no longer that little girl he remembered—you were a woman now. He took another swig of his beer, curiosity and desire brewing within him.

Once your father had released you from his bear hug, your eyes met with John's. A surprised expression graced your face, recognition flashing across your eyes as if you had completely forgotten that he could also be there. "John?" You questioned, your voice softer than he remembered. 'That you?" There was a hint of a tremble, but it was quickly masked by a polite smile.

"Hey there, sweetheart." He greeted, his voice firm yet gentle. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over you once more, drinking in the sight of you. It was almost as if he was seeing you for the first time. "Aye. It's me."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief. "I can't believe it's been fifteen years. You haven't changed much, you know."

John couldn't help but chuckle at your comment, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through him. Fifteen years…

You had to be around twenty-six now.

"I would say the same about you, but—" he replied, letting his gaze linger on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You've grown up beautifully."

The compliment seemed to take you by surprise, your cheeks flushing a soft tinge. You quickly turned your gaze away from him, focusing on your father who was grilling the patties. "Thanks, John." You muttered, the unease in your voice not going unnoticed by him. Neither did that color on your cheeks.

You could recall the little girl crush you used to have on him all those years ago, when it was adolescent, innocent, and pure. Something to laugh off because it was cute.

But now, standing here as an adult, the feelings that stirred within you when John's gaze lingered on you were anything but innocent. It was a confusing, frightening, yet somehow thrilling realization—one that you knew you would have to confront sooner or later.

Your mother, who had been watching the entire exchange with the sharp eyes of a hawk, nudged you gently, whispering something about helping her out in the kitchen. You took the opportunity to escape, excusing yourself from the men's company. As you turned to leave, you felt John's eyes on you, following your retreating figure. A shiver ran down your spine, but you forced yourself to ignore it.

After you'd left, an awkward silence fell between the two men. John took another swig of his beer, trying to shake off the strange feelings that your presence had stirred up within him. The tension was palpable, a thick fog of unspoken words and hidden desires. It wasn't like him to be so affected, and yet, there was something about you that left him in a state of bewilderment.

His gaze lingered on the spot where you had stood moments ago, the image of your flushed cheeks and the softness of your voice etched into his mind. He raked a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips. This was dangerous territory. He knew it but seemed powerless to pull himself away from the allure.

Your father, completely oblivious to his friend's internal struggle, continued flipping burgers, a contented smile on his face. He hummed a tune under his breath, his eyes bright with happiness. Every now and then, he would glance towards the kitchen door, awaiting your return.

"John," He started, his voice pulling John out of his reverie. "You've gone quiet on me, mate." Your father’s jovial tone contrasted starkly with the turmoil raging within John.

John managed a weak smile, forcing out a chuckle. "Just lost in thought, I guess," he replied, not meeting your father's gaze. He took another sip of his beer, the cold liquid doing little to ease the heat creeping up his neck.

Your father simply laughed, shaking his head. "You've always been a bit of a daydreamer, haven't you?" He said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just don't go getting lost in your thoughts. We've got a party to enjoy."

John nodded, forcing himself to focus on the present, on the sizzle of the burgers, the sound of laughter from the crowd...anything but his best friend's daughter. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts were preoccupied with you.

As the sun began to set, the party continued in full swing. The laughter and chatter grew louder, the music more upbeat, and the atmosphere more festive. But amidst the sea of faces, John's gaze kept drifting back to you.

Your laughter echoed in his ears, your smile imprinted in his memory. Every now and then, he would catch glimpses of you, your silhouette illuminated by the setting sun, your face glowing with genuine happiness. You were like a beacon of light, drawing him in, and he found himself unable to resist.

You were everywhere he looked, in every corner he turned. With each passing moment, the pull he felt towards you grew stronger, more potent. It was like a magnetic force that seemed impossible to resist. It scared him, baffled him, yet excited him in a way he had never experienced before.

He watched as you interacted with the guests, your laughter filling the air. Your eyes sparkled with mirth, your cheeks flushed with excitement. You were the life of the party, and he couldn't help but be captivated by you.

And as he watched you in the warm candlelight of your father's birthday cake, your smile wide as you sang along with your family, he knew he was in trouble. Because for the first time in a long time, he found himself wanting something he knew he couldn't have.

You.

Oh god. It's so embarrassing how long this took to actually write. Please please lemme know what ya'll think. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Should I continue this? ;) Enjoyxx

#john price x reader #john price smut #captain john price #captain johnathan price #captain john price x female reader #john price #john price cod #johnathan price #cod mw22 #cod x reader #age g4p #captain price #price cod #captain john price smut #dbf!price #afab reader

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emismunch · 2 days

Text

❝ DO YOU FEEL ASHAMED? ❞ ✶ ELLIE WILLIAMS !

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, ex!ellie, heavy angst, cheating, heartbreak, moving on, reader going through it, no happy ending y'all, this one has a little kick, ellie is a bit of a dirtbag in this, next time i write for her it'll be the most fluff.

RAYNE RAMBLES ★ wrote this last year after getting cheated on and it's just been sitting in my docs, forever. enjoy my pain?? idk, possible abby x reader sequel

ex!ellie who avoids you for a very long time after the breakup. she wishes it could be amicable between the two of you too, but it can't be. it never will be. ellie made sure of it. all of her belongings are still littered across your apartment, though her scent is gone, you still see her everywhere. you can't bring yourself to remove the framed photos of the two of you hanging across your home. she was happy, or so you thought, and you were. but today was the day. you were letting all of it go and her with it. your roommate had taken it all down for you, the strength to remove the past three years of your life just couldn't be found.

ex!ellie who doesn't really want to think about the way you'll look at her. her emerald eyes were always your favorite, you used to go on about how much you love them. how soft they looked at you, the light shining beneath them whenever she said something stupid and ellie just waited for your giggle or a hint of it anyway. they used to be kind to you, careful, even calm but it didn't seam to be the case anymore. ellie knew you wouldn't be either — not after she’s hurt you. carelessly, abusing your kind-hearted spirit, turned you to something resembling unbridled rage with a large dosage of resentment.

ex!ellie who is met with your roommate instead of you, before the door is slammed in her face. she expects to be met with sharp behavior. there wasn't a shadow of a doubt she did. ellie just wished it wasn't your best friend who she fucking hated. ellie never liked them. they never liked her and now she didn't have to hide it. what ellie couldn't stand was that they were right about her. three years in and instead of doing the decent thing, ellie chose to betray you. those closest to you were going to protect you from the enemy at all costs. the only you trust the most and cut you the deepest. as much as she despised it, it was all true.

ex!ellie who eventually gets you, after you hear her voice carelessly arguing with your friend. you place a box at the entry in front of her feet, before you walk away. ellie peaks through one foot in the door, but then you're already back with the second box. ellie can see the tears in your eyes and you see the guilt in hers. almost shining brighter than the shame. she knows how much it hurts you, her being here, being so close but so unimaginably far away it makes you want to hurl.

ex!ellie who watches you breathe deeply, your hands clenched into fists. before you're rubbing them at drained eyes, dark circles underneath them. she's to blame for everything you're going through. if she had just been honest from the beginning, maybe the two of you could've been friends and just left your love there. you were nothing but good to ellie, pure like white snow, and now the blood from her hands fell over you, staining you a violent red. you would never be pure again. no. not like before. you wouldn't ever blindly trust anyone just because you simply fell in love. putting yourself out like this again? no, you couldn't do it.

ex!ellie who tries to speak with you, mouth open, but no words are able to come out. she tried her best to put off this moment, the confrontation of the aftermath, facing the fact she had treated you like an afterthought, but you were more than just a thought ellie had tried to push away. you were a person she had left abandoned. she had promised you the world and caved when the time came to give in. she become everything you feared she would be, tearing you in little shreds of yourself as you tried to piece back what she had broke.

"you look like you haven't slept." ellie states, not really a question, but she almost phrases it as one. she doesn't have a right to ask. the two of you know she's forfeited knowing you, your life, how you're doing — she's the one whose damned it all.

"i don't really. not right now at least." you look anywhere but her eyes, your eyes concentrating towards the freckles meticulously scattered along her shoulders, her cheeks, and along her button nose. “anyways, should be everything of yours. i’ll contact dina if anything else shows up.” your tone sharp, clearly cutting through.

there’s no malice when you utter her girlfriend’s name, but ellie senses you’ll reserve the tone of betrayal just for her. she’s the one who abandoned her commitment to you.

not dina.

“can we talk? please?” ellie flashes her beautiful puppy eyes at you, once would make you melt, now you feel like throwing up.

“ellie.” there is it is, ellie thinks, betrayal and brutality laced in the voice who promised her a future. there once had been one, house, kids, a ring. it seems so silly now. it’s a warning the way you speak to her. don’t push your luck, williams.

she’s with dina. why does she even care?

she’d never seen you so upset, so vengeful, so tired of her. you weren’t lying when you never said you never wanted to see her again. every single beat of your heart meant it, the emotion cut off when you spoke to her, how you looked at her with this cold look in your eyes. arms crossed over your chest as if looking at her is the most taxing task in the world.

ellie was supposed to not care. she couldn’t, yet it bothered her you clearly didn’t.

“i have nothing i want to say, especially to you.” you bark, for the first time, ellie fears there might be a bite.

“i-i know i fucked up, okay? i just can’t stand the thought of you fucking hating me.” ellie pleads, a longing look in her eyes.

“well, i never thought i would, so i guess we’re all evolving and changing into horrible people.” you roll your eyes at her, watching as she struggles to pick up the boxes laid at her feet.

you loath how much you want to help her, but don’t.

you can’t.

“you’re not horrible.”

“well, you are.” your insult slapped her right across the face, the burning sensation stung but what hurt more was knowing you meant every word.

“this isn’t fair, i know what i did was bad, but i told you the truth. i didn’t lie, i confessed. isn’t it worth for at least, i dont know, a little empathy? something?” ellie sighed deeply, shoulders tense from the altercation with you. “

“you didn’t tell me because you’re a honest person. it’s because i would have found out and you were scared.” you scoff. “fuck you. wanting brownie points for admitting you cheated? go to hell.”

“what else could i have done? it was already too late.” ellie admits, shame laced in her eyes. you hope she feels every bit of shame for all the hell she’s put you through.

“i wonder why it was too late?” your sarcasm slicing through the air. ellie finally managed to get a grasp on boxes in her shaky hands as she tried to not crumble under your death glare from hell. “i was the last one to show up at the party to your new fucking relationship. huh, guess i would be one not invited? some weird fucking placeholder until you found something better. right under my fucking nose.”

she deserves every bit of it.

painfully, you were met with silence. ellie couldn’t do anything, apologize in a way she hadn’t before, beg for forgiveness, grovel for your compassion.

you were too angry, too heated, too fucking hurt. there’s only a split second of it, ellie almost missed it, but she saw it clearly. the gloomy blues hidden beneath your beautiful eyes, slowly becoming more evident. you’re trying your best to hide it beneath anger, mask it from her, but she sees it.

tears building the more your voice escalates and ellie would truly hate herself if she made you cry in front of her, again. she’s can’t see you do it again. it’s the last thing she wants. she can’t keep hurting you.

dina, fuck. she has to protect her. ellie’s unsure if you’ll lash out on here. you haven’t yet, but breakups pull the worst out of you and she’s fearful for the women she does love.

“just…don’t take it out on dina, alright? if you wanna be mad, fine. as much as i wish i could fix it, i know nothing i can say or do will earn your trust back. okay?”

your heart breaks at her instinct to protect dina, how she used to do the same for you. it nearly splits you into an abyss, cracking your soul just where she had nicked it. almost seemed intentional at this point.

“i would never be mean to her. she didn’t promise me a future together, you did. hope you have lovely fucking life with her.”

ex!ellie who is met with the wooden door being slammed in her face, nearly kissing her chin. she stayed there long enough to hear you cry, sitting on the concrete to hear the consequences of loving someone else who wasn’t her girlfriend, well now ex. she craved to punch something, someone. you whined, a name quietly dropped from your perfect lips, abby, your fucking best friend. she would be the one to comfort you, pick up the pieces of the wreckage ellie had left you with. it scorned her, letting a flame loose on her skin, with the thought of you with her. but she didn’t get to have feelings, she couldn’t be upset with how you chose to reassemble your sanity. not when she’s the one who broke you. even if it’s with the woman she always feared you love more than a friend.

DAILY CLICK + DONT BUY TLOU + DONATE

#AHHHH PAIN ?#GO AWAY ???!!!?????#yeah ... </3 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams fanfiction #tlou2 #ellie williams angst

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spatialwave · 3 days

Text

“𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓮, 𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝔀𝓫𝓸𝔂”

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader

word count: 938

summary: you’re cooper’s favourite cowgirl.

warnings: mdni! smut, porn w plot, affair/cheating, riding, cooper loves the view ;)

notes: two posts within 12 hours?? i am addicted 🫣

you’d met cooper on a film set working as a seamstress, your skilled hands sewing and tailoring the clothing he wore on the big screen. the two of you grew close as the weeks and months passed by, especially when his career took a turn for the worst when he started filming advertisements for vault-tec. it was unfortunate to watch him as his energy depleted, each day looking worse for wear as his passion vanished.

gossip spread like wildfire and you’d learned from a few girls in the makeup pertinent about his life at home and how he and his wife were going through a tough spot—a divorce. you couldn’t imagine the heartbreak

you were careful to bring up barb in conversation, the pain in his eyes taking forefront anytime her name was mentioned, but acting like it was no issue.

you were there for him as much as you could be, taking him for a hot cup of coffee once in a while in an attempt to bring some cheer into his life. to be a friend of cooper howard was a title you held near and dear to your heart, you hadn’t expected for it to get any farther than it did.

it all started one night when you two met for drinks—gin, whiskey, martinis and everything in between. it only took three drinks for cooper to spill his guts about barb. how she wasn’t who he thought she was, and that it was destroying their family.

he didn’t go into the gritty details, but you believed him and you were there for him. what was only a polite, reassuring touch on his shoulder had ignited a flame in both of you, eyes connecting when you shared the same thought.

an hour later you found yourself on your bed, with cooper’s tongue pressed against your wet arousal and your fingers tugging on his dark, greying hair. it became a regular occurrence, but you kept telling yourself that this was okay. it was okay because he was going through a divorce.

even if they were technically still married… even if he was still living at home with barb and his daughter, still wearing his wedding ring. this was okay.

right?

“oh my god—“ you cried out, your legs spread open as your lover fucked you with his face buried into your neck. he peppered you with hundreds of kisses, biting and leaving the faintest of marks along your soft skin, “don’t stop, coop, fuck me,” you whined into his ear, your eyes closed while your fingernails scratched down his back.

he moaned against your skin as his cock stretched you with each forward snap of his hips. he was tired, sweat beading on his forehead—he didn’t have the endurance like he used to, but he had an easy fix.

cooper pushed himself back until he was settled on his knees, pulling out of you as his thick cock sprung up and gave you quite the view. you let out a whiny, pitiful sound at the emptiness as you clenched around nothing like a needy young thing. the older man could stay like this forever, happily watching his lover begging and pleading to be fucked by him until you were filled up with his cum—a sight for sore eyes.

just before you could protest his actions and ask him to keep fucking you dumb, he wrapped an arm under your waist and moved to rest on his back with you straddling him. your knees dug into the plush comforter, palms flattening onto cooper’s bare chest.

your voice cracked as you shuddered out a moan, the overbearing fullness of his cock pushing deep inside your slick cunt. his calloused hands were tight on your hips as he guided your movements, wanting to see you fuck yourself on him.

“look at me,” cooper drawled, that disgustingly beautiful smirk on his lips, “what a pretty cowgirl. you look so good ridin’ me like that,” he murmured, thumb now circling over your clit as you started grinding your hips against his to get the friction you craved.

obediently, you forced your eyes open to look into cooper’s hazel orbs and lifted your hands away from his chest to settle on weight on his hips. you gave him the perfect view, able to watch as you rolled your hips forward and seeing how your perky tits bounced. his eyes glazed over as mouth opened, a heady moan falling from his lips as you rode him with the practiced movements you’d learned from the handfuls of nights shared together.

“am i your favourite cowgirl?” you asked, pouting your lips and moaning while his thumb rubbed slow, calculated movements along your clit. you both had slowed your movements, taking in the raw intimacy and pleasure you shared. savouring every last bit of it because neither of you ever wanted it to end.

“don’t be coy with me, baby,” he answered quietly, reaching his free hand to touch your breast, giving a firm squeeze, then rolling your nipple between his fingers, “you know the answer.”

mewling, you closed your eyes tight when he pinched your puffy, hard nipple and a sharp pain shot through your nerves before settling into a sick, twisted feeling of pleasure.

“keep, ridin’,” he whispered, voice raspy, “c’mon, doll, i know you want to cum on my cock.”

you nodded pitifully, trying your best to will your thighs to keep bouncing on him, even as you ached.

cooper watched you with a lazy grin, keeping his thumb right where you needed it until you came with a loud cry—loving every goddamn second.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #walton goggins #fallout fic #fallout prime fic #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #wordsbyspatial

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samandcolbyownme · 3 days

Note

Colby brock argument ending in hate / make up sex

Warnings: SMUT 18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, arguing, Colby is slightly drunk, reader and Colby are slightly toxic together, unprotected car sex, rough actions, choking, oral (m rec), hair pulling, biting, scratching, dirty and cute pet names, general filth - enjoy 🖤

Word count: 3.1k | not really edited

⤺ based around ⤼

You tried telling yourself that Colby was just going to friendzone you yet again.

Trying to make yourself feel better about the situation you are currently running from - you fooled yourself into thinking you and Colby could settle into a real relationship, basically.

You were at a party, kind of drunk and all you wanted was him.

He looked so good. Smelled so good. You were so excited to find him later, just like he told you to do.

But when the time came around to where you were finally looking for him, that excitement went away quicker than shit when you seen his lips were connected to a dark haired brunette’s.

You were fuming, more towards yourself because you knew how Colby was. You’ve known him long enough now, but you just couldn’t help it.

You left without speaking to him.

A • W E E K • L A T E R

The first two days, Colby was on you about seeing you, wanting to talk to you, blah, blah, blah…

As much as you just wanted to talk to him, you just couldn’t go through the heartbreak. You’ve kept your feelings down for a while now, continued to just fuck through them, but now.. they’re just too much.

So you go for plan b.

Ghosting.

But that all goes to shit when your phone goes off at almost two thirty in the morning. You roll over, lifting it from the bed, squinting at the sudden brightness.

Colby hasn’t texted you in two days, which kind of made you sad, but at the same time, you knew it was for the best, so you weren’t really surprised when you seen it was him that texted you, are you up?

You stare at the text on your lock screen for a few minutes before legging out a sigh, ..no.

You lay your phone back down, stretching as you sit up. You grab your phone and walk over to the bathroom.

As you sit down, you hear your phone vibrate against the counter and you reach over to grab it, I need a ride home.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Colby.” You whisper lowly as you shake your head. You look back down at your phone, Are you drunk?

You dreaded asking that question, mainly because Colby likes to be all up on you when he has alcohol in his system - one of the reasons to why you need to cut him our because if he can’t be your boyfriend, then why do boyfriend things with him?

You hated that you wanted to see him, you had the option to right there.

You look down at your phone and smirk little at Colby’s text, ..no.

You laugh slightly, “Fuck.” You sigh as you check his location, You’re at the RailYard Bar, right?

Within a second, Yes mamas, that’s correct.

You looked away from your phone, Colby knew that you absolutely loved when he called you that. He doesn’t do it often, which is what makes it so, special.

Says I’ll be there in ten. I’m not taking anyone else home. Just you. You stand up, finishing up before you go and get changed - just leggings and a hoodie, nothing special.

You grabbed your greys and walked out.

You were nervous. This last week has been hell for you because you absolutely love Colby, with your whole being, and he just can’t seem to see that.

Each time you’ve managed to master hiding your feelings, Colby would break out a new move or saying or just something to make you fall deeper in love with him and all you can think is, for fucks sake, here we go again.

You wanted to hate him, but then you remember just how well he knows your body and just how good he makes you feel.

How he makes you laugh and how he’s just literally always there when you need a pick me up fuck.

He’s just so perfect to you and you just wish he saw you the same.

——

Your heart skips a beat when you seen him walk towards your car. You sat up more, pressing the unlock button right before he grabs the handle to open the door.

“Well, look who it is.” He says as he gets in, “Little Miss likes to ghost her friend? What is that?”

“Oh.. we’re getting right into that, aren’t we?” You stifle back a laugh and start driving. Colby nods, “Yeah, so take the back way. We need to talk.”

“We do.” You agree with the slight nod of your head.

“I just-“ Colby shakes his head, “What changed?”

“What do you m-“

“Don- don’t do that.” Colby laughs slightly, letting out a sigh, “Do you remember that night at the party?”

I think of you so often it hurts, Colby, is what you really want to say, but you just grip the wheel harder, slowing down as you come to a sharper turn, “I remember a lot.”

“That sounds like.. it has another meaning behind it, something more than just how good your memory is so..”

You feel your cheek start to heat, why did I fucking do this, you curse yourself mentally, why fucking put myself through this?

“Y/n.”

“What.” Your voice is barely there, but Colby still hears you, “What the fuck is going on with you?”

There it is.

“I tell you, what? A week ago?” He continues, “That I wanted to talk to you about us and then within a few hours later you ghost me for a fucking week?”

“Can you actually blame me for being scared though?” You scoff, “I mean, I tell you about my feelings one time and we push past it, bury it behind us because you didn’t want anything more than sex.. and even though that fucking hurts, I still fucking did it.”

“No one is forcing you.” Colby argues back, “Fuck, y/n. I don’t-“ he shakes his head, “If all I was doing was making you unhappy.. I- why fucking stay around me then? Like I don’t..”

“Because I’d do anything for you.” You blurt out, word vomit taking over, “Because I never really knew if I was more afraid to see you again or to never see you again.”

He stays silent, eyes on you as he waits for you to continue speaking, he knows you have more to say.

“It just.. at this point.. I know that you’re shitty and you’re bad for me.. but I just.. can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What does all of that even mean?” Colby scoffs, “I’m shitty and bad for you, and yet, you can’t stop thinking about.. what? What the fuck did I do? You’re the one leaving me in the fucking dark.”

You finally snap, “Why are you getting mad at me!?” You glance over at him and back to the road, “The girl. The fucking girl at the party, Colby.”

He shakes his head, eyes still on you as he thinks, and right when you’re about to huff, he nods, ��Oohh, are you talking about Alexa?”

“If that was the same girl you kissed when you knew I was going to be looking for you.. then yes.”

You were no stranger to giving Colby attitude, but the atmosphere shifted.

You wanted him.

You wanted to claim him.

A minute or two goes by and you stop the car.

Colby looks at you confused, “The fuck are you doing?”

You look over at him, “you want to talk, we’re talking.”

“I don-“

“The first time I ever told you I had developed feelings, you basically told me just to give that shit a rest.” You start, “So I pushed them down, just kept reminding myself that we’re fuck buddies, nothing more, I mean, you seem to have made that pretty clear and to be honest.”

You clear your throat and look over at him, “Seeing your lips pressed to another woman’s, honestly, I think hurt less than that what you’re we need to stop or we’re just friends speech would have.”

He scoffs slightly, shaking his head as he laughs, “You really don’t know what you’re talking ab-“

“Fucking hell, Colby. I saw you. With my own two eyes. Your hands on her waist. Her hands on your neck. Your lips on hers.” You yell, your voice growing higher, “Fuck.”

“That meant nothing, okay.” Colby shakes his head as he looks out the window.

You scoff, “that meant nothing?” You press your lips together and frown, “so then.. why tell me to find you later wh-“

“Because I was fucking ending things with her to fucking b-“ he takes a deep breath, “How would you feel if I told you I loved you?”

You feel your heart stop and your head snaps towards him, “What?”

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly, “You heard me, y/n.”

You narrow your eyes slightly, taking a few seconds before speaking in a quiet, unsure tone, “I-I don’t..”

“Yes you do. Because the answer is why you keep staying. Putting yourself through wanting to hate me and.. wanting to love me.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, nails scratching over the fabric of your sweatpants clad thigh, really unsure of what to say.

“You said you wanted love. I only wanted sex.” Colby breaks the silence, “I didn’t really want anything serious, like we worked out as just friends that have sex occasionally.. or six times a day but, who’s counting?”

He chuckles and you shake your head with a slight smile.

“But then, you told me you developed feelings and yes, I kind of disregarded them, but I did it because I didn’t want to hurt you but-“

“You did.”

“And yet..” Colby stares at you and you look over at him, “I stayed.”

You and Colby hold your stare, tension growing faster and thicker as each second passes.

He reaches up, caressing your cheek, “She wanted a goodbye kiss, I figured, what the hell, the end of something old, going to start something new right?”

He shakes his head, eyes looking into yours, “You have showed up right when I leaned in because as soon as my lips were on hers, they were off. It felt like I was cheating, and for a few minutes I couldn’t figure out why..”

This thumb brushes over your skin, “Until I realized that the love of my life, has already been in my life for years and I’ve just been, too fucking stupid to realize it.”

You reach up, laying a hand on his, “It’s okay. We’re all a little stupid sometimes.”

“You’re so pretty..” He whispers quietly, “Pretty eyes..” his hand slides down to caress your jaw, his thumb sliding across your lips, “..pretty lips..”

You feel the heat growing between your legs.

You reach down, unbuckling your seatbelt, “I need your hands on me.” You lean up and he unbuckles his seatbelt, holding his hands out to welcome you into his lap.

Thankfully, you kept Colby in mind when you bought this car.

You straddle his lap, hands moving to press against his chest as you lean in, lips finding his.

His hands grip your hips, sliding down to grab onto your ass. You grind down against him, whimpering out as you feel his jeans press against your clothes cunt.

“Fuck.” Colby groans lowly, “I can never stop thinking about you.”

Your hands move up to run through his hair, moaning out as his lips suck a purple mark into your skin.

His hands slide around to the front of your sweats and pull them forward so he can slip a hand in.

You lift up, mouth going slack as you feel two of his fingers push past your soaked and needy folds. His fingers instantly curl, ripping a moan away from your lips.

Your hand moves to grip his neck and you lean in to press your lips to his, whimpering against them as his fingers slide out and move up to your clit.

Colby’s free hand presses into your lower back, pulling you into him, “A part of me wants to fuck you so hard because you ghosted me, but the other part of me wants to love on you.”

You kiss to his ear, moaning quietly as his fingers stay pressed to your clit, “Why not both?”

“I love the way you think.” He kisses down your neck as he leans forward, pushing you back as he does, “Don’t know why you didn’t wear something easier.”

He laughs slightly, glancing up at you as you feel your ass get exposed when he pulls your sweats down over it, “I mean, come on. Did you really think we weren’t going to fuck?”

“Shut up.” You whisper as you move around to get your sweats off. Colby’s hands slide up your bare thighs, gripping your hips tightly, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You ask innocently as you move to undo his pants. Colby watches hard as you quickly work to free his cock.

“Tellin’ he to shut up.” He drags hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. He studies your face for a few seconds before his hand shifts back and takes a nasty grip on your hair, “I think you’re the one that needs to shut up..”

He pulls you in and kisses your lips, “Get back into your seat and lean over here.”

You quickly move over to the drivers seat and lean over the center console, only to wince when the previous grip on your hair returns.

Colby grabs the base of his cock and you immediately open your lips, welcoming the leaking tip onto your tongue.

He taps it a few times, the grip on your hair slowly subsiding as he lets you swirl and bob your head on your own terms, but that didn’t last long.

A harsh gag erupts from your throat as Colby pushes your head all the way down without warning, “Fuck, you’re so hot, baby.” He pants, bucking his hips, “S-shit.”

Your nails dig into his clothed thigh, eyes squeezing shut as you focus on trying to control your breathing, mainly because that’s the only thing you can do.

“fuck, do you want this cock to be yours and only yours, baby?”

He lifts your head and you come up with a gasp, eyes watery and lips puffy as you nod, whimpering out a weak, “Y-yes.”

“Mm.” Colby hums lowly, “Do you think you still need to learn a lesson for ghosting me then?”

You nod weakly and that’s all it took.

Colby pulls you back over into his lap and your elbows are rested on his shoulders as he lifts your hips up himself.

You bite your lip, eyes slowly closing the more his his cock inches into you.

“Fuck.” Colby groans out, holding you as still as he can, “Don’t move. Don’t move.”

“What?” You whimper out, “why?”

“I just want you to sit for a little bit baby, really take in the feeling of it, but I want you to beg for me while you do it.”

You groan and try to sit up but his arms tighten, “Better hope no cars decide to drive by, we’ve been lucky so far.”

It was this moment that you realized that you’re on a backroad and anyone can stumble upon you.

“Shit.” You breathe out, “Maybe we sh-“

Colby shifts and you moan out, “Fuck, Colby.”

“Feels good don’t it?” He asks in a cocky manner and you roll your eyes, “Yes.. I just..” you try to move your hips and Colby’s grip tightens, “I didn’t hear you beg for it yet, sweetheart.”

You sigh, “Colby. Please.”

“Please what, baby?” He brings his hand around to brush his fingers under your chin, his touch making the need to get off on him worse.

“I need you to fuck me!”

“Louder, baby.”

“Fuck me, Colby. Baby, please!”

He grinds your hips against him and your hands grip his shoulders as you scream out, “Fuck daddy, please, please I need you to fuck me!”

With the last word from your lips, Colby had your hips bouncing up and down on his cock within a second.

“Don’t ever leave me.” Colby groans lowly into your neck, “You’re not going anywhere.”

You moan in response, moving your hips with his pulls and pushes.

“Ya hear me?” He breathes out, gripping your chin to make your look at him, “Do you fucking hear me?”

“Yes. Colby. Yes.” You lay your hands on his cheeks, and with that, it’s like the mood changed. His grip on your body was, loving. No longer harsh.

His kisses were gentle and he held you close.

It’s like you broke him, you broke Colby Brock.

“I love you.” He whispers lowly and you turn your head, keeping your hips in a steady rhythm as your lips find his, “I love you.”

He kisses down your neck, biting down and sucking make into your skin, and right as you are about to cum, Colby taps your hip quickly, “Carcarcar.. car.”

You jump off, moving to the drivers seat start driving. You make your way down the road away from the said car, and the only thing you can do is laugh.

Colby reaches over after he fixes himself and lays his sweatshirt over your lap, “Here, babe.”

“Thank you.” You smile over at him and he takes his hand in yours, “Alright, sweetheart. Take me home so we can finish what we started.”

You pout, “Yeah, I was so close to a-“

“Don’t worry.” Colby smirks as he brings your knuckles to his lips, “I’ll make it up to you.”

——

Thank you so much for reading. I love you all. Thank you so much for being so patient with me while I work to get these out! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Colby Brock #Colby Brock smut #dirty colby brock #colby brock one shot #Colby Brock fanfic #Colby Brock x reader #colby brock x y/n smut #colby brock x reader smut #colby brock x you #colby brock x y/n #colby brock dirty imagines #colby brock smut one shot #smut one shot

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celticcrossanon · 2 days

Text

BRF Reading - 15th of May, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 15th of May, 2024

Question: Are Meghan and Harry actively trying to kill The King?

As I was shuffling the cards for this reading, two cards flew out. I was going to draw one card for Meghan, one for Harry, and one for them as a couple, plus the underlying energy, but those two cards told me everything I needed to know.

This is a two card reading

Warning: This reading contains some of the ugliest energy I have ever encountered in all my years of tarot reading. Please prepare yourself before you read it and do not read it if you are feeling at all upset/despondent/shaky/insecure etc. You need to be protected by God/Jesus/the angels/the universe/whomever you call upon to protect you before you read this reading.

Answer: Yes

Card One: The Three of Swords

This is the card that flew out of my deck as I was shuffling. One look and I had my answer.

The Three of Swords is a card of grief, heartbreak, despair. It shows King Agamemnon being killed in his bath by his wife Clytemnestra and her lover.

Clytemnestra brooded over past injuries done to her by the King until she decided to kill him. In this card she represents Harry, with his belief that the BRF has ''victimised' him (e.g. by taking away his military honours).

Her lover, Aegisthus, believed his family has been betrayed by the father of Agamemnon and had been conceived to take revenge on the family. He represents Meghan, with her belief that the BRF has hurt her (eg no one asked me if I was Ok, no one cared about my mental health, they are racist and all her other lies) and her desire for vengeance on them.

The picture shows the death of the rightful King by Clytemnestra and her lover. I am taking this as the death of The King at the hands of Harry and Meghan, in answer to my question. Harry and Meghan want to kill The King. They want to inflict the grief and heartbreak and despair of his death on the BRF.

Card Two: The Eight of Swords in reverse

The energy of this card is of stress. The reverse position has intensified the upright energy (as it sometimes does) instead of reversing the meaning of it. It also adds a delayed time element to the energy.

Harry and Meghan want to use stress to kill The King. They wants him to feel trapped, hemmed in, unable to move or escape, especially mentally. This card can represent someone who is trapped/paralysed by their thoughts and who feels helpless, and that is the energy of the card - what Meghan and Harry want to invoke in The King.

There is a very strong relentless energy to this card - Meghan and Harry will not give up until The King either a) abdicates in their favour (yes, I know that is not possible, but we are dealing with two delusional people here) or b) drops dead from stress - stroke, heart attack, cancer, they do not care.

There is a vicious energy to this card that lashes out repeatedly until the desired object is achieved - an energy I can only describe as stabbing, over and over again, until the person is dead. There is a chant going through my mind of 'stab stab stab kill kill kill' as I type this. The 'stabs' are emotional and stress wounds.

These two cards tell me that Meghan and Harry have planned to kill The King and they will not stop until it is accomplished - and then they will turn their attention to Prince William.

This is truly ugly energy - vicious, self-centred, and laser focused on their desires with no thought of anyone else.

Because it is so ugly I asked for a third card as confirmation, just to make sure I am on the right track about this, as it is a horrible thing to say about anyone.

Confirmation Card: King of Cups in reverse

The King of Cups is the card for Scorpio, and as such it represents King Charles, who is a sun sign Scorpio. In the reverse, it shows King Charles in decline, weakened, not strong and happy (that would be the card upright). The card represents King Charles in his role as a person, father/husband/uncle etc, and not in his role as King. To have it in reverse as a confirmation card is a definite yes. Harry and Meghan want The King to die and they are actively trying to bring this about.

Just in case there is any doubt, the card after this was The Seven of Swords.

The Seven of Swords - deceit, trickery, lies, scheming - with the pictures showing Orestes creeping into the city/palace to kill his mother for murdering his father. The card showing a son in the act of murdering a parent and the meaning of the card - thief, lies, deceit, scheming - confirm the message above and add to it - Harry and Meghan are trying to kill The King so they can steal what is his for themselves.

Notice that all the suit cards I am pulling are Swords - the suit of thoughts, plans, and strategies. Another confirmation. There is no emotion involved here (that would be Cups) - just a cold and merciless desire to remove someone who stands in the way of their plans.

This is revolting energy and I am going to stop now.

A note of hope - just because Harry and Meghan are actively trying to do this, there is no guarantee that they will succeed, especially if we pray for The King and for Prince William and his family and/or we send them protective energy. St Michael the Archangel is a good angel to ask to protect them if anyone is so inclined.

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brucewaynehater101 · 20 hours

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Hi! I have a writing idea, but I neither have the skill nor the motivation to turn it into a full story, so I thought of sharing it with you because *grips you by the shoulders with tired eyes* you have soooooo many writing ideas, and most of them inspired this brainrot in the first place

It all starts with Tim Drake living the good life. He's married, he has an aquarium full of fish, he's Aquaman's No. 1 Rival in being loved by fishes, and he's a mentor of most Young Heroes of that generation.

He's literally a grandpa (grand-uncle? grunkle?) with a good relationship with his brothers and Bruce, and a loving and spicy relationship with his partners (I can't choose between Kon and Bernard so they're poly)

He dies of old age with no regrets, content with his life and full of hope for the future.

And then he wakes the fuck up.

What. Was. Was none of that real? Did everything good that happened just a dream? A figment of his imagination?

Because not only did he not wake up, he woke up in a pool of his own blood within Titan's Tower. Jason was still there, painting on the wall with the blood that Tim spilled, still wearing that laughingly atrocious costume.

This.

This is bullshit.

Was his life too good that the universe decided "Ha. Fuck you. You need to suffer more, Bitch," and chucked him all the way to the past?

Jason notices him awake, picks up Tim's bō, and prepares to whack Tim.

But Tim barely cares. He's hurting in so many places. He misses his husbands. He just wanted his forever vacation.

He closes his eyes and just waits for the unconsciousness to happen.

It happens, and the next time he wakes up, Nightwing is hovering over him, and Batman is walking away to hunt Red Hood down.

Tim takes in a deep breath. Exhales slowly.

And then, he screams, "GET THE FUCK BACK HERE, YOU GODDAMN FURRY."

Bruce pauses in his walk, Dick is gaping, and Alfred simply blinks at the side.

"YOU GONNA GO SEE JASON? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO? SLIT HIS THROAT? YA BETTER STOP WHERE YOU FUCKING ARE BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO CONFRONT HIM, BECAUSE BY DIANA, YOU'RE MESSED UP IN THE FUCKING HEAD, YOU KNOW THAT?"

Dick tries to placate him. "Tim, calm down--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, DICK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS FUCKER DID ON MY BIRTHDAY?! ASK ALFRED BECAUSE HE WAS IN ON IT, TOO!"

Tim was panting now. But he didn't care. He remembered heart to hearts with Jason. He remembered how he and Jason had matching neck scars, and how much pain Jason's face was in when he shared what happened between him and Bruce.

"We need to restrain, Bruce. He's going to kill Jason. He's going to put Jason back in the grave if we let him go out."

Everyone pauses, Dick and Alfred's eyes widened in horrified shock. Bruce's face paled.

Tim may have exaggerated a bit, but they don't know that. Because Jason still died. His heart restarts later, but it really doesn't erase what happened.

"I don't kill."

Tim scoffed.

"Just because a man doesn't die at that moment, doesn't mean he won't die later if he's left for dead.

"Jason is going to make you choose between him and the Joker. You're going to save the Joker. And Jason? Because he's no longer how you remember him? He's going to be left with so many injuries caused by you. And you'd want no one helping him, because you don't believe that the Jason that came back is even him anymore. Ergo, an indirect killing, Batman."

Tim glares at Alfred. "I don't fucking care if you're on Bruce's side." Then, he snarls at Dick, "And I don't fucking care if you know Bruce more than I do!"

"I don't give a damn that Jason hunted me down for some twisted revenge or some shit.

"But here's what I do care about: I worked too hard in making sure that the idea of Batman doesn't get tarnished. I'm Robin now. I'm here because I believe you need a Robin. And I'm going to do my fucking job of being your leash if it's the last thing I do!"

Bruce is just fucking standing there.

Tim wants to rip that cowl off.

He already went through sooooo many heartbreaking conversations with Bruce in his old life. Why does he have to go through this again?! Did Jason and Bruce not talk about this with each other in the other timeline?! Does Tim have to bridge their relationship and mediate like he does when Dick comes to visit?

Fuck this life.

Ahhhh, Tim misses his husbands so much, why couldn't they regress back in time with him?

After a few moments, Bruce.

Fucking.

He fucking leaves!

Tim gapes, he glances to Dick with his disbelief clear on his face, and then he grabs a pillow and screams into it.

Fuck. Fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck.

Tim is soooooo not doing this anymore. He's 16 again, c'mon! He doesn't even feel any of his joint pains (which may be because of the anesthesia, but whatever.)

Tim turns to Dick with a grim expression.

"Call Superman," he says. "And Wonder Woman, and Martian Manhunter. Heck, even call Green Lantern and Flash."

"Why?" he asks.

This motherfucker even had the gall to be confused.

"Because you're the Justice League's eldest child that they raised together as a village," Tim says slowly, as if he's talking to a preschooler. "Let's not give a fuck about the 'no metas in Gotham' rule, and start giving a fuck about all we could accomplish by letting so many adultier adults help us."

Thank Billy Batson Dick nods.

"We're gonna save Jason?"

Tim shrugs, lies down, and tugs his blanket over his whole body. "I don't give a fuck about Jason, Dick."

"Wha--"

"I just care about making sure that Batman doesn't turn into a villain to his own children. He's already fucked up so bad with you, Dick. We gotta make sure he doesn't fuck up any more, especially when Bruce wants to bring Jason home some time later when he stops being an ass."

Tim makes a mental note to make sure that Bruce doesn't get any mind control technology on his hands either.

He hears Dick sigh, slide his chair back, and probably stand up.

"I'll be back," he says softly.

Tim grunts like the true bat-child he is.

Finally, Dick leaves.

Unfortunately, Alfred was still here.

In the previous timeline... Tim never got a heart to heart with Alfred about all the things the man did and didn't do. And he thought he moved on but...

This is the man who gave him the Robin suit first. This is the man who he helped take dishes away from the table every time Dick and Bruce gets onto their violent screaming matches. This is the man who everyone put on the pedestal, but is Tim's equal in everything regarding Bruce's wellbeing.

And it hurt. It hurt so much when only Tim is witness to all of this man's flaws.

°°°°°°°°°°

Aaaaand then I got nothing else to add. I have no idea where I was going with this but here is the culmination of my hatred for Batman, my disenchantment with Alfred, and my need for Tim to scream his heart out because, no. Tim did not die contentedly. He did not actually die a natural death of old age. And the only hope for the future he has is of him meeting up with Kon and Bernard in heaven while everything else on earth can crash and burn for all he cares.

Hello!!!! I'm so glad you shared this and for the compliments. It makes me really happy to see people sharing their AUs. It kind of feels like a community project? People will reblog or do asks for different AUs, so lots of people end up contributing. I love that this is the direction this blog has taken.

As far as what you've shared? Positively beautiful. Fuck Bruce, Tim deserves the chance to scream, and I agree about Alfred. I love that man.... but only some versions of him. What he did to Tim was foul, and his tendency to just stand aside (to not stop Bruce) is horrid. Fuck that bystander shit.

For your time travel AU, I love that he died peacefully and old before being thrown into the hell that was his childhood again. Even worse, it's during Titan's Tower, so he can't change anything that leads up to that. He's thrown smack into the thick of all the drama and bullshit.

Also, rip Tim's relationships in the AU. Unless his husbands got transported back in time with him, he wouldn't be able to fall in love with them. He'd look at their younger selves and see them as the children they are (and the kid he no longer feels like).

To add onto that, he might feel older than Bruce too. If Bruce is 35 ish in this and Tim was like 70, he probably sees Bruce as a grown adult who's also a baby. That man needs to get his shit together, but gods is he so fucking young and stupid.

Special parts I loved:

Fish loving Tim more than Aquaman

Tim going from hard-earned decent relationships with his family to the sewage of his Robin years

The acknowledgement that Tim was Alfred's equal on taking care of Bruce (and how much that betrayal hurt)

Jason actually dying when his throat was cut (that's my hc too)

Tim immediately getting the JL involved

I would so be down with exploring this AU more. Your writing is also fantastic!

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #bruce wayne #thank you for the ask!!!!#jason todd #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth

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thefallennightmare · 3 days

Note

For headcannon can you do Noah with his gf surprise pregnancy where she is keeping it from him cause she is terrified and he is touring... well let's say he is worried cause you're sick as a dog.

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion

"Angel, what's going on?" Noah's worried voice came through your phone's speaker.

Along with his frown on your screen.

The two of you were Facetiming, him on tour and you back home.

"I'm fine," you sighed while pulling the blanket closer to your chin.

You weren't.

You felt sick and spent all morning bent over the toilet. Now you were cuddled up in bed underneath the blankets.

"You don't look fine, Y/N. You're pale," he adjusted his phone to get a better look at you.

He was lounging on the couch of the tour bus and you briefly saw Jolly sitting next to him, who peaked his head in the view of Noah's phone.

"Yeah, Y/N, you don't look so good," Jolly noted.

"It's food poisoning," you lied.

It wasn't.

You knew exactly what was wrong with you.

The positive pregnancy test resting on the end table next to you gave you the answer.

You'd known for a week now but didn't want to tell Noah while he was on the road.

You were nervous as hell because the two of you had been dating for less than a year and Bad Omens were just rising to popularity. The last thing he needed was a baby.

The two of you never talked about kids or even marriage. But you two did talk about wanting to slowly build a life together in due time.

You knew he deserved to know, this was a big secret to keep from Noah.

But he just started his three-week-long tour and you hated keeping secrets from him.

Not to mention, he always could tell when you weren't being truthful.

"Angel," Noah warned. "Your lip is twitching."

You quickly covered the quirk that gave way to your lies. "No, it's not."

But with his intense eyes through the phone screen, you knew he wouldn't let up.

Slowly sitting up in bed, you reached over to grab the test, still keeping it out of view.

"I wanted to tell you when you came back because I didn't want you to be sitting on this without me there."

"You're scaring me," he chuckled low, trying to keep his nerves at bay.

With shaking hands, you held up the positive pregnancy test in the view of your phone's camera.

Noah's eyes scrunched to get a better look at it but then they went wide with realization.

"Is that-?"

"I'm pregnant."

Silence was all you heard for a few long beats, Noah's face like stone.

"Oh shit," you heard someone muttered on his end.

Then a smile broke wide on his lips, showcasing his bright teeth and the tight grip on your heart loosened.

"We're going to have a baby?" He asked before blowing out a shaky breath.

You nodded. "Yeah. You're not mad?"

His brows furrowed. "Why would I be mad, angel?"

You adjusted the position of your phone while lying back in bed. "We never talked about kids before. And Bad Omens is just starting to rise, I don't want anything to hold you back."

"Y/N," Noah's voice was stern. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Our baby will not hold me back."

"I love you," you smiled, feeling way lighter than you did before this phone call.

"I love you too, angel. When I get back home, we'll celebrate."

While he was on the road, he sent you countless ideas for baby names and Pinterest board ideas of ways to decorate the nursery.

Two and a half weeks later, Noah returned home and immediately gathered you in his arms to lay a kiss on your lips.

Once you were set back on the ground, his hands rested on your stomach and had a faint smile on his face.

"Hi baby," he cooed. "I'm your dad."

#tina talks #bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian headcannons

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bloodylullaby · 2 days

Note

Dont know if you take blurb requests but I wanted to ask for one (no pressure❤)

What about, something like the reader and Noah being together for a couple months and she thinks that he's gonna leave her for whatever reason but Noah 'reassures' her so she can keep calm.

Idk if you like this but do what you please with it❤

Okay, I got overly excited and a little nervous writing this, but I hope this is what you were semi-looking for. If not, I will do it again without hesitation! :) :)

I may or may not have read other blurbs to make sure I was doing this right.

Song

Masterlist

Three glorious months—seemingly a blink in the vast of time, yet profoundly meaningful in the journey you and Noah have navigated. It marks the peak of three years of friendship, a journey paved with shared laughter, countless conversations, and moments of unspoken understanding. Finally reaching the finish line, you both have embarked on a new chapter, intertwining your lives in a bond strengthened by trust, mutual admiration, and a deep-rooted connection. Every day shows the lasting beauty of your relationship and the profound impact of love, which thrives and grows with each passing moment.

Things seemed like they couldn't get more perfect until your first big fight. You posted a picture of you and Noah cuddling up in his bed, and he freaked out a little. He was one for complete privacy regarding the internet, but you wanted to shout your relationship to the world. It was hard for you to understand why he didn’t want pictures of you two posted, and it was even more challenging for you not to take it as personally as you did. You have been holed up in your room blasting "Lover Dearest '' by Marianas Trench for an intense hour, screaming and crying the lyrics to yourself.

You felt like he was going to break up with you sometime in the near future, and it was getting harder and harder for you not to freak out about it. This caused you to slightly distance yourself from him, which wasn’t hard due to him working in the studio a lot lately. Everything seemed reduced to slower texts, fewer calls, and limited visits for several weeks. You knew it was because once Noah had a creative flow, he couldn’t be slowed down, but emotionally, it felt like he was avoiding you because he didn't want you around anymore.

There was a knock on your door, so you slowly got up to answer it. On the other side was Noah, who had a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a big smile on his face. His expression slightly faltered when he saw your tear-streaked face. Confusion crossed his features when he heard the song you were playing.

“Why are you listening to your break-up song?” He asked. That just pushed you over the edge and made your tears fall again. He grabbed your face with his free hand, wiping away the tears. “Hey…shhhh, it’s okay, baby. What’s going on?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.

“Are you going to break up with me?” You asked through sniffles and hiccups. Avoiding eye contact, you couldn't bear to see his face, knowing it would only deepen your heartbreak.

Seeing the anguish in your eyes, Noah's expression softened with understanding. After setting down the flowers, he gently cupped your face with both hands, coaxing you to look at him.

"Hey, no, no, baby, I'm not going to break up with you," he reassured you, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you, okay? I'm here for you."

Feeling relieved, you finally meet his gaze, tears still glistening. With a shaky breath, you leaned into his embrace, comforting yourself with his reassuring presence. Noah held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you let yourself release the pent-up emotions weighing on you. Looking up at him, you both get swept up in the feelings, and he kisses you. At first, it starts slow and gentle, a way for him to show you that he understands your feelings and will be there to take the pain away. Then it starts to turn hungry, showing you his passion for you and that he isn’t going anywhere.

Leading him to your room, you lay on your bed as he climbs over you. The air is thick with anticipation and desire as he leans in to kiss you, his lips tender and warm against yours. As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of emotion wash over you, the intensity of your connection palpable in every touch.

For the next hour, Noah worships you and every inch of your body, his lips and hands moving with purpose and passion. Each caress declares his love and commitment, reassuring you that he isn't going anywhere. In his embrace, you feel safe and cherished, the worries and doubts of earlier fading into the background as you lose yourself in the moment. Time seems to stand still as you revel in the intimacy and closeness you share, knowing that together, you can weather any storm that comes your way.

#bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 2 days

Text

Only In Death Does Duty End

Author’s note: Zadakael’s debut! He’s going to show up in a couple of different AUs.

Warnings: Fighting, bloodshed, Blood Angel In Black Rage, tracking and hunting of animals, Let me know if I need to add more.

Summary: Zadakael falls in battle on Holy Terra, and awakes on a planet he doesn’t recognize, not realizing he’s on Ancient Terra. Yet. After nearly dying, and waking up he’s starving and thirsting and goes hunting.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog

Tagged Again: @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Zadakael had been fighting at the Siege of Terra, fighting the Traitor Legions, when he had felt his beloved Primarch Fall. Had felt the pain, the rage, the heartbreak, the beginning of what would become The Curse of the Blood Angels and their successor chapters, they'd always had the Red Thirst, but the Black Rage started as a parting... gift? Curse? Of their Gene-father to his sons. Zadakael, like many of his brothers who fought alongside their Primarch on Holy Terra it's self-had either buckled to their knees and howled out their grief and rage momentarily before rising to their feet as the First of the Black Rage turned them all into a Frenzy they saw Horus in all enemies that were in front of them.

Their blows becoming stronger, as the please and words of the Arch Traitor are but words on the wind and they'd not heed his treacherous words. Zadakael bellowed out his rage and sorrow as he continued to strike down the Bastard and howled is rage and fury as the tears that flowed down his face blurred his vision momentarily. He cared not for the wounds he received, for his blade will strike with mighty fury that will deal blows that slay more than what he received will ensure that those that caused his beloved Primarch's death will die and have the same amount of mercy extended to his beloved Primarch.

He doesn't really feel it when a lucky blow from an enemy sink through his broken Ceramite armor and pierces his armor. He glares at them with hate filled red eyes, even as his final breaths he tries to do just a bit more damage to the Arch Traitor.

"Die!" He spits out at the Arch traitor as his vision fades to darkness and he welcomes the void of death, and to rejoin his beloved father in the afterlife.

He wakes up with a gasp, and lets out the softest of pained whimpers as tears fall down his face. Somehow, he was alive, even though he'd thought he was dying at the blade of an enemy. A small part of him had been glad of it, that he'd be able to rejoin with his beloved Primarch. But he'd heard a loving murmur from his father who'd said that his Duty had not quite yet ended, and that he'd be needed as one of many in a new duty, a new station, a new planet. He'd wanted to say something as he clung to his most holy father, who'd glowed most beautifully in the light of the afterlife.

With those tears he'd allowed to fall he'd bowed his father and obeyed his Decree and he is still alive. He's not on Terra- these trees that he sees are not ones he recognizes. He continues to stay where he lies as his body knits back together with his enhanced Healing. Focusing on his hearts first, and as his lungs knitted together as well his breathing became easier the healing energy focuses on his worse injuries first. By the Throne he is so very thirsty. He'll need to find something to drink, especially with how much energy he's used in order to heal, and in order to heal fully he'd need more blood.

He grimaces a little, as he slowly gets up, careful of his injuries as he tests how his body is reacting and flexes his fingers and toes, slowly, gingerly moving his arms and legs, noting what sings with pain, and the lack of it. His Ceramite armor is completely fucked, and his Vox is busted, but it's still useable enough to wear as he pulls off his helmet and closes his eyes and takes in a couple of deep breaths, trying to see if he can smell any animals nearby. Opening his eyes as he starts to look around, his keen red eyes alighting on a quadrupedal foot track, and as he carefully tracked the prints, hoof prints, likely some sort of herbivore as he follows the tracks and finds scat and tufts of fur.

He continues to track the herd of quadrupedal herbivores, they have bone protrusions from their heads, antlers of some form. He tracks them, a patient hunter as he scares them, into running and carefully chases after them, the slowest of them he’s going to feast upon. Biding his time until one of the creatures’ collapses, tries to get up and collapses again. He carefully angles his approach and pounces on the creature. He ignores is bleating cries as he drinks from the creature, salty-iron flavor of a carbon-based life form.

He’s so thirsty as he drinks, and drinks and drinks, making sure not to spill a drop of the thirst-quenching life’s blood, easily able to hold the creature that slowly stops thrashing in his arms as he drains it dry of blood. After he’s not entirely filled his belly, but has had enough blood that the Red Thirst is no longer something that is a Need, but a Want that he can ignore he takes one of his long knives and thanks the creature for it’s life’s blood as he starts to prepare the animal, carving the hide carefully from it’s flesh.

He’s not going to waste the flesh, bones, sinew, and hide of the beast that he drank from, as that would be wasteful and the meat, he can cure with a pouch of spices that he’d always carried with him, just in case he needed them. Starting a fire was easy with the wood and brush around him as he cooks the meat and starts to cure the hide with what limited resources he’s got to him. He uses all pieces of the carcass that he can, calculating how long he can use what he can, for his own purposes, and his head snaps up as he hears rustling in the bushes, growls softly but stops as he sees a couple of Scout-aged cousins come stumbling out of the bush and stare at him wide eyed and startled.

“Sit, eat, then talk,” He orders the young ones, one of them isn’t wearing armor for some reason and is wearing strange black and white heraldry that he doesn’t recognize, while the other is clearly wounded from the way he’s limping.

“Th-there are Chaos Marines, nearby sir,” One of them says with a stutter.

“Chaos Marines?” He asks with a frown as he shoves food into their hands.

“Traitors,” The one in Black and white clarifies with a twitchy, low growl in his voice.

“You two, stay here, tend to the fire, eat,” He scowls at that, “I’ll deal with them.”

“Uh- when did you arrive Here?” The one in Black and white asks.

“Several hours ago,” He replies, “Do you know where we are.”

The two scouts look at each other and at him, the other Scout, who’s armored seems very Confused. While the one in Black and White Fidgets, “Can you comm anyone on your Vox, sir?”

“It needs to be repaired first,” He says with a shake of his head.

“Uhm… some of the other older brothers- and cousins of the Loyalist chapters say that there is an alliance between Traitors and Loyalist.” The one in black and white reports, while his expression shows his concern and disbelief.

“… That sounds. Not right.” He says with a frown. “Stay here. I’ll handle the Traitors.”

He heads off in the direction the Scouts came from, starting to hear voices, that are twisted as he readies his weapons. “I Shall bring you death Traitors!”

He snarls at them, sending the mixed group of traitors scattering and swearing at him as he hisses and growls at them, chasing after them with his bolter and blade. The cowards flee before him, not in the direction of the confused young Scouts.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #adeptus astartes #warhammer #Poor Unfortunate Souls #oc: Zadakael #oc (mentioned): Cedric #oc (mentioned) Catius #blood angel #blood angel oc

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httpiastri · 1 day

Text

PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER TWO (JEDDAH)

genre: angst, fluff, comfort, etc.

word count: 6k

warnings: hmmm nothing except heartbreak in several scenes lol

author's note: guys im really sorry but im pretty mean to paul here..... like it got to the point where i rewatched jeddah videos of him and physically felt ill because i was mad at him LMAO 😭 but we'll get through this together!! this was supposed to include some other scenes but it was long enough as it was sooo 😶 summary for this chapter ig is yn feels very torn between her boys, and so do i. hope everyone has a good week (it's finally race week again aaaaa) !! 💗

also i think the next chapter might be shorter because i just wanna get it out already and i don't have a lot to write about in it hehe, fingers crossed that i can finish it soon<3

(alsoooo i proofread this a few days ago but i just cant find the energy or time to do it rn, praying that there are no big issues…. if there are, i would be so thankful if you could send me an ask or message etc 🙏)

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"i still can't believe i missed out on the top ten again. and by just three hundredths, even..."

pepe shakes his head as you both make your way out of the campos truck, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair before pulling on his red bull cap. you can't help but chuckle – he's been like this all day, and all evening yesterday. you understand it, though; finishing just outside the reverse grid pole once again must feel frustrating.

not that you can relate. with a much better qualifying session yesterday in your second-ever qualifying in formula 2, you managed to snatch an eight-place finish. in other words, you will be starting third in today's sprint race, and just the thought of the probability of getting some big points sends tingles through your entire body.

"you'll get it next time," you say with a pat on your friend's back. "i mean, look at ollie. from p-nowhere last week to pole yesterday. that can be you next time around."

you've just come out of your morning meeting – morning meaning starting at ten and ending around noon – and now you're finally getting some lunch in the red bull hospitality. even during a race weekend like this, with mostly evening and night sessions, you still managed to oversleep and almost didn't make it in time for your meeting. you didn't get to have any breakfast, you had to run all the way from the shuttle to the truck, and you even forgot one of your racing boots as well as your phone in your hotel room. thankfully, you'll still have time to go back to the hotel before the sprint race, but walking around without your phone feels like being naked.

"speaking of ollie," pepe starts as you turn left and head into the formula one paddock. "are things between you two... alright?"

your eyebrows furrow together at the pause in the middle of his sentence. "why wouldn't they be?"

"well, i..." he stops again, and it makes you want to shake him. "i heard something. but it doesn't matter."

"who are you to decide that it doesn't matter?" you scoff. "tell me."

pepe sighs – he knows fighting you over this is a losing battle. you're way too stubborn to let go of this. "i heard that you were having issues. that you aren't happy, or something along those lines..."

you stop in your tracks, brain working in overdrive to comprehend what your friend is telling you. not happy with ollie? why would you not be happy with him? "who told you this?"

pepe stops in front of you. "i heard it from kimi, who heard it from... paul."

"what?" your eyes squeeze shut as your hands interlace on top of your head. "why would kimi come to you? instead of asking ollie himself?"

"you know kimi," pepe starts instantly. "he's young and gullible. i think he wanted to go for the see-if-the-best-friend-knows-anything strategy instead of asking ollie straight out." his hands squeeze your shoulders softly and you look up at him, a hint of a pout on your lips. "i guess he was scared that ollie would get mad at him or something."

"it's just-" you sigh. "it doesn't make any sense, does it?" pepe is just about to say something more when you cut him off with a dismissive swat of your hand in the air, stepping away from him and continuing your walk down the paddock. "let's just forget about it. i need lunch."

pepe stands frozen for a few moments before hurrying up to you again. he can't quite read your mood – you look unbothered, but he can't help but notice the slight touch of redness of your ears and the way your eyes seemingly can't focus on one thing for long enough. there's no way you can be over it already.

with pepe shutting up for a little while for the first time ever, you're left all alone with your thoughts as you continue your stroll. you know you should've asked for more information; you should've asked for details, for exactly what kimi said and how he worded it. you probably should also ask kimi himself for what paul told him. but right now, it's like a shadow is clouding your vision.

how dare paul say something like that? he must've known that the rumors he made up would spread like wildfire, as they always do in the formula paddocks. the snowball effect can make something tiny become huge, which is why you're always cautious about rumors. but apparently, paul doesn't care about that.

you're far too enraged to think even straight, and that's why it takes pepe pulling your arm to make you stop walking. you frown – to be fair, your frown hasn't left since it appeared a few minutes ago – but when you realize what it is that he's pointing at, both your frown and your jaw drop.

there's a swarm of journalists and fans following a ferrari driver down the road in front of you, which isn't all that uncommon. both charles and carlos are always incredibly popular. but what blows your mind is the fact that when you finally catch a glimpse of the driver's face, it's neither of the team's main drivers.

it's ollie.

"ollie! mate!" pepe yells, his arm waving erratically over his head. it takes a moment for the brit to find the owner of the voice, but he's tall enough to look over everyone else, and he's soon making his way over to you both. "i know you're popular, but this all seems a little excessive, don't you think?"

"i don't know what happened, as soon as the news came out..." ollie lets out a chuckle before turning to you, eyebrows raised at your expression. "i've called you like a hundred times, what have you been up to?"

"i left my phone at the hotel-" you begin but cut yourself off and shake your head. "wait, what news?"

when ollie starts speaking, time slows down. the entire world around you goes dark, the only thing you can hear being ollie's explanation of how carlos needs surgery and the call he got as he was having lunch. you feel lightheaded, almost like you could faint, when he speaks his final words. "...and they said i will be the one to replace him. i'm driving the formula one grand prix tomorrow."

you don't waste any time before throwing yourself into his arms, a loud squeal passing through your lips. "are you kidding me?" you exclaim, hugging him even tighter. "this is incredible, ollie! oh my god, i..."

"i can't really believe it myself, to be honest," ollie says, shaking his head as you part from the hug. pepe slaps his shoulder, congratulating his friend. "i would love to stay and chat, but i need to be in the car for the last practice, and i have a lot to get done-"

"go! go!" you usher, softly shoving him away back towards the journalists and fans who are still waiting just a few meters away. "we will talk later, okay?"

"of course."

and then you watch him leave – your boyfriend, the soon-to-be formula one driver – with a much lighter heart. this definitely helps you forget about all of the things regarding paul.

at least for a little while.

but of course, pepe stops your train of thought. "does that mean i get the reverse grid pole?"

you've never ever been to the ferrari garage before, so as you stand in the middle of it, you have no idea where to go or what to do; this is completely new territory. thankfully, you got a vip-pass from ollie before he ran off for his pre-practice duties, so at least you have the privilege of looking like a fool inside of the garage instead of right outside the doors.

a fool dressed in a red bull race suit, even. great.

you were in the middle of preparations for your sprint race when ollie texted you, and since you still had some time before the race started, you made it over to the other side of the paddock as quickly as you could. but unfortunately, that meant that you didn't have time to change your outfit into something more discreet.

"you don't look like you belong here, miss," a voice rumbles from behind you. your heart stops in your chest, and you're ready to improvise an excuse or find an escape route when you turn around – but luckily, you're met with chris, ollie's manager, standing there.

"thank god you're here," you say, letting out a sigh of relief. "do you happen to know where ollie is?"

"he's borrowing carlos's room. it's right down the hall and to the left."

you quickly thank him, turning again and making your way down said hallway. the room is easy to find, the two big, red fives on the door sticking out among the white walls. you're glad to find it unlocked, but you still knock a few times before sticking your head inside.

"sweetheart? can i come in?"

ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. his eyes are stuck on the floor, but you take his silence as a yes.

"i got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "how are you doing?"

when he still doesn't answer, your heat rate picks up. is something really wrong?

you make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before.

not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year. once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight of him.

"ollie, talk to me," you plead, biting back the pout that starts to form on your lips. it's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. not now, not when he needs you this much.

"i'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "i'm so nervous, i don't know what to do."

it's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. ollie, your usually so calm and collected boyfriend, is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. "i get that. one hundred percent. but," your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "this is your dream. it's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance."

ollie sighs, but nods. you're getting to him.

"and it's not just any car, it's a ferrari. do you realize how cool that is? do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" you smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous. "you would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"but what if i ruin it?" his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "what if i go out there and i'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've done by even putting me in the academy? what if-"

"it won't happen." his eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "you're too good to do that. you'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. it's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "i'll try my best to make you proud."

you pout. "i'll be proud even if you end up with a slower lap than your pole lap from yesterday."

a laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. his heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second. but his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter.

he presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, arms squeezing you tight. "i really need to go, because the sprint starts in..." you shoot a quick glance to the clock on the wall. "forty-five minutes. my team is going to kill me. but go out there and show them, baby."

and that's exactly what he did.

though, that's not the only thing you were correct about; your team was indeed furious when you finally made it back to the campos garage. your main engineer, who was supposed to help you get strapped in and fix all of the last details with the car over fifteen minutes ago, was apparently so angry he left you to do everything yourself. it's not that you didn't know about your schedule; you just needed to be there for ollie before his big debut.

everything works out in the end, at least according to you, and you're soon settled in your car on the grid, waiting to go on your formation lap. however, you've barely gotten as much as a glance from anyone on your team. you can't help but press the button to activate your radio. "i'm really sorry, guys. i just... had to do something."

"hope it was worth it." the voice of one of your engineers booms through your earpieces instantly, the sternness in his tone sending a shiver down your spine. "we got a huge fine because you were so late to get into the car, so..."

another of your engineers speaks up. "let's focus on the race instead now. no need to fight."

maybe it was because you got to visit ollie right before the race, or maybe it was just starting third and having a good car. either way, the sprint race was one of your best races in a long time. not only did you pass richard verschoor starting one place ahead of you into turn one; you also overtook paul, who started from pole, before the end of the first lap and got to lead your first laps in formula two ever.

dennis came around to steal the lead from you, but just landing yourself a spot on the podium was enough for you to celebrate. when you scored a second-place finish where the guy in first place was one of your former academy members, it didn't really matter that the guy on the third step of the podium was your ex-boyfriend.

going through all media duties is always exhausting, but it's usually never as dreadful as it is today. sitting in that press conference, knowing that your boyfriend is starting his first ever formula one qualifying in just a few moments. you have to literally bite your tongue not to pull a valtteri bottas and ask the journalists how q1 is going.

when you're this busy, you don't really have any time to think about paul's rumors. though, something about it continues to loom in the back of your mind all evening. especially when he speaks in the press conference, despite how hard you try to not even look at him, and especially when he's asked about ollie.

as the press conference finally comes to an end, you're not the only one who wants to hurry out of there to watch the rest of the qualifying session. you and the rest of the podium trio find a big screen that's showcasing the session, and you all insist that you should stay and watch, despite the f2 staff members' continuous attempts to squeeze the last drops of content from you.

they keep stuffing their phones and cameras in your face, throwing all kinds of questions about ollie your way, but you refuse to budge. you won't let them ruin this moment for you.

you're sure they've gotten quite a lot of embarrassing pictures of you teary-eyed while admiring your boyfriend's results, though.

you follow the timing board like a hawk, but something breaks you out of your trance. "who are you watching?" your head snaps to the direction of the voice – the f2 instagram admin with her phone pointed to paul.

as if you all haven't been watching and chatting about ollie for the last ten minutes.

you try not to, you really do, but you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of paul. he's trying to look all innocent, hugging his trophy to his chest as his big, blue eyes blink up at the screen in the distance. a year ago, you would've just thought he was adorable – but today, this frustrates you more than anything. "i'm watching my dear friend ollie," he starts, eyes finding the camera so easily.

dear friend, huh? a dear friend is someone you spread rumors about?

the next time he speaks up, you have to physically bite your tongue to not yell at him. "the guy who gave me one position on tomorrow's grid."

you turn your head away in pure disgust. how could he say something like that? is that the only thing he cares about, places in his starting grid for tomorrow's feature race? is he serious?

you want to escape, to just storm off and never speak to him again. but instead, you force yourself to take a deep breath and focus back on the thing you're here for. ollie is doing so well; when q2 ends and he has driven his last lap, he misses out on q3 by just over a hundredth of a second. he almost even manages to knock out the legendary lewis hamilton, his fellow countryman whom he's been following for as long as he can remember, in his first-ever qualifying session.

you've never been prouder.

"honestly, as long as i can just bring the car home without wrecking it completely, i'm satisfied."

you give ollie's hand a soft squeeze at his words, fingers intertwining as your hands rest on top of the hotel cafeteria table. your other hand lifts your sandwich to your mouth and you take a bite, chewing it down quickly before giving him a nod.

you know his statement is meant as a joke, but you know it's just as much of a truth as a lie. driving an actual ferrari f1 car is his biggest dream, and even just making an alright race probably is enough to make him happy. there's no pressure on him, no one is expecting him to perform a miracle or even score some points.

but at the same time, you know he would never be satisfied with himself if he "just" brought it home safely. ollie isn't like that; he's way too stubborn, too determined, too much of a sore loser. it's what makes him. no matter what he says, there's always going to be something inside of him telling him that he needs to do better.

"i think you'll score your first points today," you tell him with a shrug. "i can feel it."

"don't say that, we don't know anything yet."

a shake of your head in combination with that smile of yours is enough to make some hope spark in him. "well, you have the car for it," you start. "and you have the skills."

ollie stays silent, letting the distant chatter of the other hotel guests having their breakfast fill the air. the cafeteria is emptying out by now, but new faces have been dropping in for a long time now, most of them walking by to give ollie a pat on his shoulder or a quick "good luck, mate".

you put down the last of your sandwich, leaving it behind with the fruit rinds and other scraps on your plate. "but don't think too much," you hum, eyes softening as they land on his. he's trying to contain his worries and anxiety as much as he can, but the slight tilt of his eyebrows and the way his gaze tends to dart away every once in a while tells a different story. "it's just driving. it's just what you always do, no problem."

you hold your glass of orange juice up to him and he gets the hint, clinging his own glass to yours before downing the last of its contents.

you're just about to speak up again with new words of affection, but an icy feeling spreads through your body at the sight of paul entering the cafeteria. the feeling soon turns into real nausea, and you can't even remember what you were supposed to say when you realize that he's making his way towards the two of you.

you want nothing more than to stay and keep encouraging ollie, but you can't take it at this moment. you stand up from your seat, giving ollie's fingers one last squeeze. "i forgot that i have a meeting soon," you make up. "so i need to go. i'll come see you before the race, okay?"

he doesn't even get to say bye before you've stormed off.

unfortunately, you have to pass paul in order to make it to the exit, but you make no effort to even recognize that he exists. you keep your gaze straight ahead.

karl, paul's physio, does a quick greeting from you though – as well as a confused look at the candle pressed into a pastry in one of the hotel's yogurt bowls – but then, you're off to hide in your hotel room until you're needed at the track for race preparations.

of course paul had to come by and ruin everything yet again.

with a good race from yesterday in the bag, you thought you could keep the momentum into today. however, that didn't turn out to be the case.

when a trident driver hit you from behind in the first lap, you lost a few positions instantly and after that, it was a bit too tough to recover. you had opportunities for overtakes, and the car was good enough to go through with them, but you never could. you kept slipping up, making rookie mistakes, and falling back even further. it even got to the point where your team came on the radio to remind you to focus on the road.

but no matter how hard you tried, it wouldn't work. the entire race, something else clouded your mind.

or, more specifically, someone.

every time you even caught a glimpse of paul's silver car, it was like something in your mind short-circuited. the memory of your conversation with pepe, the thought about paul running around and spreading rumors about you in the paddock… you couldn't push the thoughts, or the anger, away.

other times, back in the day, you were always good at turning your anger into something positive for your races. if you were upset with your father for something he said about red bull or the junior program, you went out there and proved him wrong. if you heard that another driver had complained about how you just got your seat because you were a girl, you made sure to dominate the race.

your stubbornness was always your biggest strength. but today, it was like your tank had run out. as much as you wanted to completely crush paul, you didn't have the capability.

at least paul didn't have that good of a race, either.

the second you get out of your car, you storm off towards your garage. you know you'll probably get a lot of shit for your performance your entire debrief, but if you can at least get over with it sooner, then you can forget about it and refocus on the next race weekend. plus, you really want to catch ollie before he's away for his f1 debut.

thankfully, you're not the only one getting criticized during the debrief; the team is not very happy with pepe's start, nor his DNF. after they've gone on and on about how costly this weekend has been for the team for an hour, you're finally released, but not without one last reminder to "think about what you're doing here and whose time you're wasting".

it's natural to lose all energy and confidence after a race like this. but the second you're back in ollie's arms, it's like the world around you just disappears. he's always been the best at keeping you grounded.

you've probably never hugged him this tightly before, but you can't help it. the second your arms wrap around his neck, you pour everything you have into the embrace.

he looks so good, so handsome and professional dressed up in his ferrari race suit. not just his prema suit with the ferrari logo on it, but an actual ferrari outfit. he looks like a real f1 driver – and the realization that he indeed is a formula one driver now brings tears to your eyes.

"hey," he says around a chuckle. "don't cry on me, woman."

"i won't..." you reach up to wipe away a drop from the corner of your eye as you pull away slightly from his embrace, shaking your head. "i won't. i'm just so proud of you."

"why are you so sappy?" the scene in front of him brings a huge grin to ollie's lips – he finds you equal parts adorable and hilarious. "i'm just going out there to drive a car. no biggie."

"no biggie," you repeat with a scoff, dabbing your other eye quickly before doing your best to blink down your other tears. earlier today, you were the one saying all of this was no problem. and yet, now he is the one who has to convince you of it. "right. it's just your passion, the thing you love. but i'm still proud."

an engineer catches ollie's attention above your head, sending him a certain look that has your boyfriend nodding before giving you one last squeeze. "i think i should-"

"of course, go," you usher him, retracting from his arms. "i'll be here after, no matter what happens." he nods, and he's about to leave when you speak up one last time. "have fun, okay?"

"always."

who would've imagined that ollie would not only score points in his first ever f1 race, but also win driver of the day, have the most overtakes, and score a seventh place as the second best british driver of the race?

well, you had imagined everything from him coming last to winning the race by horse lengths. and yet, this was all so unexpected. if someone had told you on wednesday that ollie would score six f1 points three days later, you would've laughed in their face. but now, it feels like it's been a long time coming.

you weren't allowed to stay in the ferrari garage for the actual race – it would've been a pr nightmare for everyone involved – so your nerves were all over the place since you weren't able to hear ollie's radio messages, info about the strategies, and so on. at least you get to wait right outside the garage with jamie, chris and his dad david, being the first to congratulate him after such a good debut race.

he looks completely worn out when he finally walks out through the door, but you can almost feel the pride and happiness radiating from him. his sweaty hair rests messily on top of his head, and an ice vest is draped over his body already to cool him down from the insane heat. and, most importantly, the smile on his lips is bigger than it's been all week.

ollie looks like he doesn't ever want to let go of his dad's hug, his face nuzzled in the crook of david's neck for a long time. you can only guess what things the father is whispering in his son's ear, but when the result is ollie pulling him even closer, your heart expands in your chest.

when they part, it's jamie's and chris's times to congratulate the point-scorer, and when he pulls away from his manager's arms, his eyes land on you. you're pulled into his embrace in just a second, a giggle slipping past your lips when he lifts you up into the air and spins you both around. his strong grip around you never eases, not when he sets you down on your feet again and not when he starts speaking.

"i knew it would be hard, but..." he shakes his head, a sweaty fringe brushing against the side of your head. "my entire body is ruined. like, it doesn't hurt because i have so much adrenaline, but i'm going to be in so much pain later. my neck and my shoulders and-"

another one of your waves of laughter cut off his ramblings, and he joins in once he realizes what he's been doing. when you finally pull apart slightly and your hands come up to cup his cheeks, you're just staring into his eyes for what feels like forever.

your boy, the f1 driver.

"this is from your mum," you whisper to him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "and this is from your sister." a kiss to his other cheek. "and... this is from me."

ollie has to crouch down slightly because even when you get onto your tippy toes, you can't reach all the way up to his forehead. but once you press your lips against his skin, all of the hidden tension in his eyebrows disappears. he's like putty under your touch.

"i'm so proud."

ollie's groans are muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into, head twitching when your thumbs press into some tense areas of his neck. you shush him jokingly, like a mother comforting a crying baby, but your movements never halt.

ever since he got out of that car, he's been complaining about how sore he is. especially his neck and shoulders, and all of the muscles that were most affected by the g forces. you don't blame him, however – he's got a free pass for pretty much everything for the next week, you think – but you decided to be a nice girlfriend and help him out. the strings of whines and swearwords he keeps letting out don't seem to be stopping anytime soon, though.

the lotion on your hands is enough for you to be able to glide your fingers across his upper back, along his shoulder blades, all over his freckled skin. as you're straddling his lower back, you can reach pretty much all angles of his upper body, and the knots in his muscles seem to be disappearing despite how painful your massage seems to be.

eventually, ollie tilts his head to the side, his blushed cheeks decorated with lines from the pillow underneath him. his slight pout is on full display and his tired eyes flutter closed as he speaks. "hey, y/n?"

"yes, ollie?" you reply, your thumb pressing into one especially stubborn knot in his right shoulder. ollie stays quiet for a few moments and takes a deep breath, almost as if he's gathering courage for something.

"you know that i love you right?"

the world around you stops.

everything freezes.

he loves me?

your breath hitches in your throat at the words. it's the first time he's ever said them, and though it's not the most uncommon thing for someone to tell their girlfriend of over six months, they make your head spin.

a mishmash of thoughts clouds your mind. they won't shut up for even a second. but the loudest thought is the only one you shouldn't have; it's about the only person you can't be thinking about right now.

the way that your mind instantly wanders off to paul is frankly embarrassing, but you can't help it. he's the first boy you've ever loved, the first person you've ever uttered those three words to. the only one. and no matter how badly you wish you could just forget about that and move on, he's still a part of you. he's your only real experience of love.

and this just isn't the same.

you want to say it back to ollie, you truly do. but at the same time, you don't want to say it if it isn't true – it's not fair to him.

ollie senses that something is up. your signs aren't exactly subtle, anyway; your movements have stopped completely and he can't even hear you breathing anymore. "hey, i'm sorry-"

"don't apologize," you interject instantly, shaking your head as you start to climb off his body. "you did nothing wrong. i'm the one who's sorry."

"stop that, you shouldn't be." he turns around, staring up at you with those big, brown eyes of his. "i don't expect you to say it back if you don't want to. i just..." he lets out a low sigh. "i wanted you to know, i guess."

you sit still for a few moments, before leaning down to place a kiss on his rosy cheek. "thank you." another pause. "it means a lot, you know?"

"well, you mean a lot to me."

and he does to you, too.

but is that enough?

ollie loves me.

he actually loves me.

he told me today after the race, and... i didn't say anything. i just sat there like a complete moron.

i couldn't say it back. i just don't feel what i felt for paul yet.

what's wrong with me?

why don't i race like i used to? why can't i control my emotions? was the sprint race yesterday just luck? did i really deserve that podium?

why does paul still affect me this much? why is he always there in my thoughts – when i'm racing, when i'm with ollie, when i try to sleep...

i have a perfect boyfriend and a great car, so why do i feel like everything is falling apart?

yourusername just posted!

yourusername p2 in the sprint 🥈 big thanks to the team for the hard work!! and i got to witness the rb p1-2 up close, congrats redbullracing 💙 also check slide 4 for an appearance from me and my former family on f1tv <3

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user y/n and the prema staff during the driver's parade 😭 they're so cute

→ user her referring to them as her family, byeeee

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user why is no one talking about the last slide???

→ user because i can't talk while i'm crying, sorry

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user great job this weekend y/n !!! thank you for signing my cap 🥺

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user loved to see her celebrate the red bull double podium even after a hard feature race ❤️

→ user she had to balance out the post with that max and checo pic 😭 would've been just ollie & prema otherwise

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

user ollie looks like a baby in the second pic 🥲

→ user just a little boy playing with his toy cars

→ yourusername i had to hold his little teddy bear during the race to make sure it wouldn't get dirty

→ user stopppp you're so real for sharing that

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graendoll · 2 days

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I have a lot of thoughts about what's happening on 911 and they're seemingly disjointed but ultimately they've led me to a couple of conclusions about how S7 is going to end. I have theories about Buddie, Eddie, Buck, and the will.

Theories under the break if you're interested!

First of all...Tommy has been on screen for about a minute and a half and so far all he's done is act as evidence that Buck kisses men and that the men he kisses are inseparable from Eddie.

You can argue all you want, but Tommy is NOT a major part of season 7s narrative.

Second, Buck was 100% jealous of Tommy and the time spent with Eddie. Buck wanted Eddie's attention, not Tommy's, and even TOMMY knew that. Anyone who says otherwise isn't being objective. The line delivery of "My attention" is done in such a way as to emphasize the word 'my' and make it sound like a question.

Third, Eddie was jealous of Tommy at the bachelor party. No one delivers a question with that much sarcasm without a little bit of green monster motivating it.

Fourth, Eddie is miserable. He's miserable and desperate and has told himself a story about his marriage and the life he should have had that is coloring his decision making.

So theories...

I really think Tommy is likely to either end things and/or move or leave. He will not be a permanent part of Bucks life and I expect their relationship will be over by the end of the season.

Also, I think Eddie being isolated is going to happen because he's so wrapped up in his delusions and not because people are mean to him for cheating. (That theory is so junior high mean girls I can't even.) He's likely to push Buck away and frankly I really see him having another flip out. But it's possible Buck won't be available to pull him out of it this time.

Buddie is very much not going canon this season. (And I'm not convinced it will tbh, but I've been hurt a lot by other ships 😄.) I feel like the PR leaning so heavily in the Buddie direction is just PR doing its thing. I'm very convinced it's ship bait and an attempt to build buzz.

I hope I'm wrong. And if I AM...then season 8 has a lot of work to do. And honestly it depends on how Eddie's arc ends this season. If he is isolated and misses Buck (and the narrative makes it obvious that he does) then I'll reasses. But Buddie isn't happening until Eddie deals with Shannon and while this season has been moving FAST even if he works through his grief and PTSD and anger etc etc in a single episode that isn't going to magically make him realize he's in love with Buck.

Not to mention all the other steps a story needs to take to get Eddie to kissing his friend.

Also. BUCK has to be on board for Buddie to happen and while I think he could have an epiphany about his possible attraction to or maaaaybe feelings for Eddie before seasons end, I don't see him acting on it. Especially if Eddie is dissociating with a baseball bat by himself somewhere and has been pushing Buck away.

So I expect the season to end with Buck single, and Eddie in crisis. It's possible Chris is on another 'business trip' but either way I dont think Eddie will have him around either.

As for the will and Buck's place in Chris' life, I don't think the reveal will come up this season unless Eddie goes SO far off the rails he gets institutionalized and someone needs to be Chris' guardian. Which is a possibility I'm willing to consider. This could also lead to Eddie having some rapid psychological/emotional evolution and he could maybe come out of in-patient with some new ideas about his relationship with Buck. But that's a long shot.

Anyway, my expectations are very low, but I'm really excited to see what they do with Eddie's story because it's honestly heartbreaking that he's still so fucked up over his dead wife.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 theories #911 season 7 theories #911 #911 abc #911 show #buddie #buck x eddie #911 theory

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needle-thread-thimble-spear · 1 day

Text

RGU and the Transfeminine, Part 1

Why Miki Kaoru is an Egg

Fig. 1: The Sunlit Garden

When I’d first watched through Revolutionary Girl Utena, Miki Kaoru was initially one of the characters I had the hardest time figuring out. Unlike the other poisoned sibling relationships in the show, Miki and Kozue’s didn’t really make much sense to me. I couldn’t decide how I felt about the character, whether he was “better” somehow than Touga, Saionji, or Akio, or if he was “just as bad”. And of course. What the hell is with that damn stopwatch dude??* Looking at fan writings afterward just deepened the confusion. Everyone seems to have a different opinion on what’s going on with Miki. It’s only after much re-watching, and introspection, that I think I’ve figured out why I’m so conflicted about the character. I’d like to share why- and hopefully along the way I can at least show that Miki is more interesting than many give him credit for. Click the readmore if you please!

(And, to be clear, what is written below is a reading, a blend of evidence from the text, from the subtext, and my own personal experience. I do not claim to be the first to interpret the character this way nor do I claim that this is the definitive read of the character. Nonetheless, I hope I can make my case to you!)

and, a big thank you to @empty-movement for collating all the high quality screengrabs and scans in this post!

Fig 2: Rookie Princes

While I’m not the first to notice, I think it’s frequently overlooked just how similar Utena and Miki are in the first arc. It’s definitely something that flies over the heads of many first-time viewers. But Miki and Utena, are extremely alike! Of course, they are both motivated by an unattainable image of the past, and Miki’s early episodes codify the “sunlit garden” into the RGU symbolic environment. But it’s more than just this. Utena and Miki both treat Anthy in basically the same way. Utena has an easy time convincing Miki that the dueling game is objectifying nonsense. That the principled thing is to leave the whole exercise behind and treat Anthy like a person. It isn’t very hard for Miki to convince Utena to duel him for her hand either. They both view themselves as her personal protector, and (while maybe at different times), both project their imagination of what she must be thinking onto her. Utena does a bit more than Miki to try and figure Anthy out, but it doesn’t take much for her to get swept up in her own image of prince. In both their minds, Anthy needs them to save her. And, when Anthy looks them in the eyes, and tells them. I’m not yours. It destroys them. Freezes them in their tracks, breaks their hearts. Screaming, its a lie, you can’t mean that! Of course they get along so well! They see themselves in one another, plain as day. Little rival princelings, seeking the affections of the same princess, but always with chivalry and good intention.

Fig 3: Heartbreak

But I think there is more to it than that! Miki and Utena (and later Nanami) are some of the youngest duelists (at least, without a black rose anyway). And, they have fairly similar relationships to the other members of the student council. Juri acts as an older friend, mentor, and source of advice for both of them. Its not unlikely that she sees her younger self in the two of them, and while she does very directly take this out on Utena, its her sword that Utena takes to her second duel with Touga. Indeed, Touga manipulates Miki and Utena in unsubtle and sexually aggressive ways, as compared to how he might treat Saionji or Juri. And for both, its their relationship to gender that he directly attacks. He attempts to break Utena’s spirit by turning her “back into a normal girl”, and for Miki he seems to challenge his masculinity. And while this may seem as though the two of them are being shoved in opposite directions, in both cases, Touga hits them in the same place. “You’re a prince then? I don’t think so. Unless you prove it”. Touga isn’t the only one to question Miki’s ability or status. Utena and Juri both tell Miki. You are much more suited to playing piano than dueling. The main difference here is that they tell him this with genuine compassion, but the implication is the same. You aren’t suited to this prince thing. Give it up.

I don’t think it’s just the audience who is conflicted slotting in Miki with the other “men”.

Fig 4: Strange Friends

Much ink has been spilled on Miki and Kozue’s relationship, but I do think there is one thing consistent across readings. There is a power struggle going on between them, and they’ve both got something to hold over the others head. Personally, I don’t believe there is any attraction between them. Rather, What’s Going On With Those Two is their mismatch in understanding their sexuality and the RGU concept of “Reality”, and the friction that creates in their image of themselves and one another. That reading may go as follows. Miki sees Kozue as acting dangerously and immorally. In his mind, she is his responsibility, to keep out of trouble at the very least. Perhaps he sees himself as needing to step in for their absent parents. So he sees himself as the mature and grounded one, a father figure needing to keep the both of them on the straight and narrow. Kozue on the other hand, sees Miki as being essentially blind to Reality (with a capital R). She believes he doesn’t have a good grasp of what sex is, or what adult relationships look like. She may believe that she understands what happened with their parents much better than Miki, and clearly sees that her brother is in danger with his creepy music teacher. So she sees herself as the mature and grounded one, needing to protect her brother both by warding off people who would take advantage of him and by getting him to grow up and see things as they Really are. Without their parents, they feel the need to take care of one another and control how the other approaches their sexuality. But in the end, it does seem that Kozue is the one who is better able to manipulate Miki’s behavior, helping Akio convince him to duel a second time. That Miki needs to grow up and accept what he wants. He sees a vision of Anthy, and he’s driving the akiomobile. And, with fearful realization, he discovers the identity of End of the World.

Fig 5: Fear

So then. Why should Miki be so hung up about his sexuality? It clearly makes him very uncomfortable. And why does he compare the sister he had in the past onto the one he has in the present? What’s so special about that sunlit garden, anyway? What is Miki Kaoru’s shining thing?

Let me spin a yarn, if you'll indulge me-

As far as Miki remembers it, when he was little things were perfect. His parents were still there, and he and his twin sister were thick as thieves. They would play piano together, and drink milkshakes. Things were simple and happy as far as he’s concerned, and while his childhood was not nearly as rosy as he remembers, it was certainly better than whatever he has to deal with now. Now his parents are gone for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, and his sister has drifted away from him and acts promiscuously. His body is starting to change, and it fills him with disgust. Worse still, he finds himself envying his sister for some reason. It all floods him with shame. He needs to fight those feeling with everything he has. Being very clever for his age, he finds himself the youngest member of the student council. He becomes involved with the dueling game as it is revealed to him, and goes along with it, not wanting to act out of place. He gets a crush on Anthy, and is unable to figure out what the hell he should do about it. Later, he meets Utena, and the two become fast friends. And how lucky, his new friend is roommates with his crush! She’s just so perfect. She’s kind, and quiet, and chaste, not at all like his sister. He feels a kinship with her. And in an act of cosmic fate- she plays for him his favorite childhood arrangement. It’s just as Touga says. He can’t let the world get to her, the way its getting to his sister. The way its getting to him. He needs to make sure that Anthy, and his memories, are safe. But alas- it seems she doesn’t feel the same way. She’d rather be with Utena. Hopefully, Utena can protect her where he cannot. Miki and Utena go back to being friends, and he nurses his hurt feelings privately. It wouldn't do to make a scene about it, and besides, it wasn’t appropriate for him to think of her like that anyway. Thinking about anyone like that. He can’t help but feel disgusted with himself for allowing it. Later, his relationship with his sister continues to deteriorate, and his father is remarrying. But he can stick by his principles, and stay out of it all, the dueling especially. Kozue, Touga, and Akio have other plans. He is confronted with Reality, and it terrifies him. He sees himself in the drivers seat, Anthy his. This is what he is now, no point in trying to hide from it. He challenges Utena again, taking an early advantage utilizing his new resolve and Utena’s confusion. But that resolves breaks quickly. What is Kozue doing with Anthy?

Pay attention, or you’ll lose.

Fig 6: Crash!!

Miki is disgusted with himself, his role, because he does not want it. He hates what’s happening to himself and his family. He admires Utena and Juri, for embodying his ideal self. He listens to Touga, puts up with his music teacher, even if they make him feel gross and uncomfortable, because he feels he has to and that he doesn’t have a choice. He idolizes Anthy, so much. He is attracted to her, but maybe there is something more. Maybe, Miki wishes he could be her. Miki, in my mind, is a closeted trans lesbian going through puberty as a boy. I think that part of this might be projection, perhaps. But I hope that I might have made my case using the text of the show. But even if you disagree, I hope that you might have a better appreciation for his character. I think he’s fairly consistently people’s least favorite council member as a character, but honestly he’s my favorite and I think there’s a lot more too him than a lot of people give him credit for.

Fig 7: Three Lesbians Hanging Out

… this all being said. I think it’s interesting that Miki thinks Anthy is the picture of femininity right? That this is what he wants.

In the end, all girls are like the rose bride.

Please wait patiently while I make the case, that while Miki is an egg. Anthy has long since hatched...

(And I do mean be patient! This subject, and the concept that Ohtori represents a transmisogynystic institution at its very core, is WAY more personal than this headcanon, and also is much more of a difficult thing to write for dozens of reasons. I'm still not 100% sure it would even be right of me to post my thoughts on that publicly. But if enough people are interested, maybe that would motivate me to write it!)

*What’s a good Miki essay without some sort of Stopwatch Theory tm? Well (and I freely admit much of this is probably projection, but it’s not just me projecting! It’s also my girlfriend!!), Miki seems to get very wrapped up in his own thoughts. He is very self conscious, takes the criticisms of others very seriously, and also seems to get ideas about How Things Are Going To Happen in his head. He desperately tries to make sense of his surroundings, and finds himself consistently failing to do that. So my guess is the stopwatch is a way for him to regulate and calibrate his thoughts and hypotheses and self image. He picked it up in his duty as council secretary, but its something he feels is significant outside of that. Aha moment? Click. Unexpected end to a council meeting? Click. Something go completely as expected? Click. It helps him process I think. That is my formal Stopwatch Hypothesis tm.

Supplement Fig 1: Stopwatch

#revolutionary girl utena #miki kaoru #utena tenjou #kozue kaoru #juri arisugawa #anthy himemiya #akio ohtori #analysis #spinning #hopefully this essay is readable...

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