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holllandtrash · 11 months

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haunted | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 2 to fragile line)

Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't turn back now, I'm haunted

you're racing. daniel isn't, but he's not gone either, is he? word count: 7.6k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: angst really, more incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps again, platonic love all around, not as big of a rollercoaster as part 1 but just wait till part 3 lol

“Do you know?”

“Do I know what?” You asked, wondering why that was the first thing your teammate said when you opened the door to your flat.

Lando didn’t even bother with a ‘hey, how was your day, what’s up’, he was just straight to the point, only you had no idea what the point was.

He was still on a high after coming in second place the other day, so you let the impoliteness slide. Usually Lando didn’t look like a mix between a sweaty mess and a confused child, but you assumed he was like this because whatever was on his mind was important.

“You haven’t- did you-” Lando stammered over his words. “When’s the last time you checked your phone?”

You felt around in your pockets and glanced over your shoulder with a bit of a shrug. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked at your phone in a few hours. Your morning was spent training and running errands now that you had some time and were home for a little while before the next race. You were still carrying a lot of energy after your successful finish in Silverstone that sitting still and scrolling through your phone was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.

“Can you just find your phone, please?” Lando asked, because he didn’t want to be the person to break the news. He came over to talk to you, to walk you through it, to be someone to vent to if you needed it, but the last thing he wanted was to be the one to say it.

It took a minute, but you found it in your bedroom, the screen lighting up and vibrating with each notification. As you walked back towards Lando, you scrolled through them all, trying to see which was the most important.

Eventually, you landed on one from the official F1 app.

Daniel Ricciardo Replaces Nyck de Vries

Daniel Ricciardo was returning to the grid.

Daniel was coming back.

But did he ever really leave in the first place?

You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in Monaco, almost a year ago now. The day your relationship fell apart, crumbling to pieces around you.

You thought maybe, maybe, he’d call you before the next race or at least try to find you somewhere in the paddock to have a civil conversation but that didn’t happen.

Of course, neither of you had time for a conversation anyway.

Daniel released his video 24 hours before media day in Belgium, announcing he would be leaving the team. It broke your heart watching it in your hotel room, knowing he was only a few floors up and probably struggled to record it. You could picture him retaking it a few times, just to get the words right, his tone right. He didn’t want to paint McLaren as being at fault for this decision, even if that was the case.

If you weren’t the driver who was set to replace him, you would have been there in that room giving him encouraging nods and telling him to just speak to the fans. You would have been there when his head fell back against the wall in defeat, eyes closed as the weight of his unknown future crashed down on him. You would have crawled onto his lap and held him, telling him that another team was going to be desperate for him.

Instead you were in your own room, watching the video like the millions of other followers he had. The only difference was, none of those followers asked themselves if they were to blame.

It was just you, wiping the corner of your eyes and asking yourself if this was your fault.

Surely when your news dropped, people would start pointing fingers, people would talk.

Daniel Ricciardo trained her, they would say. He helped her get to this point and now she’s taking his seat.

They’d throw assumptions into the wind about how this was probably your plan all along.

It wasn’t, of course. Your plan was to get a seat in Formula 1 and see Daniel as friendly competition when you stepped onto the grid. You wanted to keep the support system alive when you moved up, knowing you had someone watching your back when you climbed out of the car. You wanted to be able to go home with him at the end of the night on Sunday and watch the race back with him, playfully critiquing each other's moves and ideally celebrating your victories, together.

You never wanted to leave him without a seat.

But part of you must have known he wasn’t driving next year, right? You never brought up the contract, he never talked about leaving, nor did he talk about potentially moving to another team, which seemed like something you’d talk to your partner about.

Daniel said nothing. You said nothing. And in the back of your head you knew he wasn’t signed to another team, you just didn’t want to accept it.

You didn’t want to admit that part of that was your fault.

Zak Brown put you in the worst position possible. He was giving you the chance to make your dream a reality, but in doing so, you were losing the one person who shared that dream with you.

It shouldn’t have been hard to put on a smile during that post-race interview in Spa. You finished second, your hot streak had continued despite the turmoil your heart was going through. So not only was the adrenaline pumping through your veins from the podium, but McLaren had decided that morning was the perfect time to announce you were replacing Daniel.

They didn’t word it like that, though. They just stated that you were to race for McLaren for 2023. No mention of Daniel, even if that was all anyone had questions about.

“Second place in Spa, how are you feeling?” The reporter asked as you struggled to get comfortable in the white leather chair, your trophy at your feet.

You weren’t surprised he, Richard from the official FIA reporting team, jumped directly to you, bypassing any questions for Liam Lawson who finished third. No one had yet to get a comment on your official move to F1, not having any time this morning since the news was announced.

“It's exciting, it’s good to be back as well,” you nodded, turning to Felipe on your right who nodded as well. “A break is always needed, but there’s really no better feeling than getting back behind the wheel.”

“You’ve never podiumed here before,” Richard pointed out, “There’s quite a difference in performance from last year to this year, we’ve all noticed.”

“Is there a question in there somewhere?” You laughed, not caring at all if it sounded forced, and you knew it did because Liam raised his hand to mouth to hide his chuckle and tried to play it off like he was just scratching his jaw.

“Well it’s just no wonder that McLaren has snatched you up for the 2023 season, with how much you’ve shown this year what you’re capable of. Care to comment on that?”

There it was. The first official request to talk about McLaren.

“I mean, we’ve all seen the news at this point,” another laugh but this time it was more out of discomfort.

You looked at Felipe, he nodded again but it was short and encouraging, silently telling you it was okay to take the spotlight even though it was him who had won this race.

You cleared your throat, thinking about what the PR team from McLaren told you. You’re focused on Prema. McLaren knows this. McLaren is supporting you while you finish your F2 season and by all means, shut down any topic regarding Daniel Ricciardo.

“Really, I’m just focused on finishing the season off strong with Prema,” you told Richard, feeling your smile start to slip because how could you be excited over that or a trophy when you knew what he was thinking and what the whole world was thinking.

You prayed he wouldn’t bring it up, but the media world was hell.

“And Daniel’s departure-

Liam promptly lifted the mic to lips, cutting off Richard before he could finish that thought. “We’ll all miss her, I think that’s safe to say. But maybe it’ll be a bit easier for the rest of us to podium when she’s gone.”

Quiet laughter spread through the audience and you just turned to Liam and mouthed a quick ‘thank you’. He didn’t say anything back, just dropped his head to your shoulder for a second and smiled, playing up the whole we’ll miss her statement. It wasn’t an act, though. Most of the guys you raced with had stopped you at some point this morning sharing their congrats and giving you a hug, telling you that you deserved that spot in F1.

Even Felipe said it and meant it, and he was on the fast track to win this year, also eyeing a spot in F1. You had a good support system in this series.

He dropped his head to your other shoulder and your lips fell into a playful pout, raising your hands to the sides of both driver’s faces. It made a cute photo. The F1 social media team really played into the love you had from your competitors.

You had a lot of support in the paddock, surprisingly, from other drivers.

Mick found you before his own race started. He was your first teammate during your rookie season in F2, it only made sense he was the first current driver to congratulate you.

“You deserve it,” Mick told you, arms tightly wrapped around your body as he gave you a comforting embrace that almost compared to the one you were craving from Daniel, but still something was missing.

Mick’s contract was up at the end of 2022, and no one knew where he was going but he assured you that no matter what, he’d be on your side.

You sort of interacted with Lando on Sunday after your feature race. When you passed him in the paddock, he held his hand out for a fist bump and gave you a wide smile. The cameras caught it, they caught everything apparently, and it was the first photo you saw on social media when you got to the airport late Sunday evening.

First of many celebratory fist bumps, McLaren’s caption said. It was a nice photo, truly.

Too bad the comments were anything but.

Not McLaren hyping up the fact that Danny’s girlfriend is replacing himIsn’t she only fourth in the driver standings in F2 lol We don’t want her we want the honey badgerEven worse when you think about the fact that they are literally in a relationship and she’s taking his seatNo class from any of them

No one seemed to know that you and Daniel were done, but how would they know? Your relationship was private, your break up would be too.

Your break up.

And then it hit you. Right there in the airport. After the adrenaline of a podium had worn off. After the excitement of signing with a new team had passed. After you were finally left alone after being surrounded by your team and drivers and press all day, you broke down.

It was embarrassing. The only saving grace was the fact that you were sat in the corner of the premium lounge, facing the windows, so at least no one could see you cry. You weren’t quiet though, you knew your faint sobs could be heard from anyone within a 3 metre radius.

And you knew how immature this was, crying in an airport. But when you felt things you felt them with every fibre in your being. You were overjoyed beyond words, shaking when you got first podium in F2, and then feeling that multiplied by fifty when you won in Monaco.

You were madly in love with Daniel, despite only dating for a year. It wasn’t young love, puppy love, a whirlwind romance, or any of those sappy headlines. You were head over heels, ready to spend your life with the man who lifted you up above the rest of the world. Who not only put you on a pedestal, but made sure other people did too. He was always in your corner, even before you started dating. He loved you long before you even realised you could also love him.

As an athlete, as a future world championship contender, as a friend, Daniel loved you.

The day you knew you loved him, you knew you were screwed, you both talked about the risks.

Fragile line, you called it, walking a tightrope, he joked. There was such a huge margin of error, so many things that could go wrong by falling in love with, not only a driver but the driver who mentored you.

The media would turn against you. Sponsors would shake their heads. Your future could have been jeopardised. You’d be labelled as a poor role model for girls in motorsport.

You walked a dangerous and delicate line with Daniel, but you didn’t think it would snap beneath your feet. You never thought you’d be the one to break it.

So yes, you were full on sobbing in the airport as you waited to board your flight to Amsterdam.

“Pretty sure podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.”

You heard the British accent and immediately sat up, wiping your eyes and sniffling to at least try and make it seem like you weren’t crying. You turned your head and watched as Lando sat down next to you on the dark blue chair, resting a leg over his knee.

You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him, worrying that if you did try to talk, all that would come out would be more cries.

Lando reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a travel size pack of tissues, tossing them to you without so much as a word. He waited a few minutes as you composed yourself, using some of the tissues and pocketing the rest for later.

“You okay?” Lando asked, sounding concerned for your well being because he had a point, podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.

“Am I okay?” You repeated back followed with a playful scoff. “Do I look okay?”

“You look awful.”

“I feel awful.”

Lando nodded, clearly unsure what to do in this situation. His current teammate, his friend, was leaving at the end of this year and his new teammate, a girl he had barely had 5 conversations with, was having a breakdown in the airport.

Lando, whether he liked it or not, knew he would be caught in the middle of whatever this mess was for the next few months or so.

He knew you and Daniel were an item. Daniel told himself shortly after Silverstone, and only because Lando had asked, simply curious.

“You and Y/N,” he started off, hesitantly, seeing the two of you interact much more flirtatiously then you had before. “You two are..” he didn’t know how to word it.

Daniel just winked, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

That pretty much confirmed it. And then when you started showing up in the back of the McLaren garage during race weekends, Lando sort of accepted it, quickly getting used to seeing you around.

You were always friendly with each other, but your attention was always on Daniel, too. Lando saw the way you were quick to rush to his side after a difficult race. How you were the first one Daniel looked for when he stepped out of the car, eyes searching the sea of orange for you. Lando heard the way Daniel talked about you, the way he praised you, telling everyone who would listen that you deserved a spot in Formula 1. That man had a note saved on his phone of your stats, race wins, qualifying times, records broken, all of it.

Daniel loved you. Everyone who knew him saw it, and Lando was no exception.

So one could imagine the uncertainty he felt as he approached you in the airport. Surely you and Daniel weren’t together anymore, right? Or were you somehow going to work through this? Could you work through it? Taking his seat?

Lando, like everyone else, was dying to know.

“Has he said anything?” You asked him before Lando had a chance to get a word out. That question alone confirmed that you and Daniel weren’t on speaking terms at least.

“About you?” Lando asked and when you nodded, he saw the devastation hit your eyes as he shook his head. “Honestly he wasn’t very talkative today, left right after the post race stuff.”

“How is he?” You then asked. “Has he- is there any word on him finding a seat next year?” You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring hopefully at the British driver.

It pained Lando to shake his head again, “Not yet, but it’s still pretty early. I’m sure he’ll find a seat.”

You nodded, praying that Lando was right. When you dropped your chin to your knees, averting your eyes when you felt the tears well up again, Lando’s chest grew tight. He felt bad for you. This was a hard position for you to be in.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Lando assured you. “Danny’s one of the best there is, but the results just aren’t there. Zak didn’t see any point in continuing if it’ll just end up being more of the same.”

Lando tried to be encouraging, really, and you were thankful for that, but he got the hint after a while that you just didn’t want to talk about it. Before leaving you alone, he gave you his number and told you that if you needed anything, to just reach out.

You were always friendly with Lando, but that was the start to your friendship.

It was Lando who shared your picture when you claimed first place in Zandvoort, celebrating your success with a cheeky caption stating how he better see you bring the hot streak to McLaren next year. He was the one who interrupted your post-race interview in Monza, spotting you in the paddock being interviewed by Will Buxton. Lando, despite needing to follow his own pre-race schedule, came and draped an arm over your shoulder and playfully interrupted whatever Will was trying to say.

“Look at that,” Will laughed when you struggled to shake Lando’s arm off of you, “Future teammates. Lando, how excited are you to be working with this incredible talent next year?”

“Oh extremely excited,” Lando answered, leaning into the mic gripped between your fingers. “She won’t be able to keep up with me though.”

And that it was it. He ruffled his hand through your hair and took off again.

He checked in on you between races, whenever a new headline was trending, whenever someone from social media had the audacity to compare yours and Daniels stats and pin you against each other as if there wasn’t already enough you were struggling with.

Lando didn’t want you to come into the new season already feeling defeated. He was still friends with Daniel, he always would be, but he had a kind heart. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t on anyones ‘side’, but more importantly, he saw you as a driver, as his next teammate. He didn’t see you as Daniel’s ex who was now stealing his seat like half of the world did.

It was also his car that you drove during the practice sessions in Austin and Abu Dhabi. Lando happily stepped aside for you, giving you a supportive pat on the back and strategically blocking your line of sight towards Daniel as he got ready for his sessions as well.

You still hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t even looked at each other. You tried, honestly, to catch his eye but he refused to even glance your way. He was in and out of that car so quick, finding any excuse to leave the garage while you were there.

It hurt. You knew his mind was made up. He was upset, he was hurt, he wanted nothing to do with you and seeing you in his garage sent him spiralling.

All you saw was Daniel turning his back on you, but what you didn’t know was this situation was giving Daniel constant headaches. He couldn’t look at you, the girl he loved, and watch you climb into the McLaren knowing that you’d be doing that throughout the entire next season and he wouldn’t.

All he ever wanted was to see you in a Formula 1 car, but not like this.

You stood in Lando’s side of the garage during the last race. You wore your McLaren jacket, you had the orange headphones on as stared up at the screen. Your back was towards Daniel’s car, so you missed the way he did actually look at you. It pained him to see how well you blended in with the team, his team. He almost told himself it looked like you belonged there, but he quickly put his helmet on and climbed into his car, gearing up for the race.

He finished 9th. Lando finished 6th. And with that, the season ended.

Daniel was done.

You watched him celebrate with those closest to him. You stood off to the side and thought about how if things were different, you’d be clinging to him, sweaty race suit and all, waiting to congratulate him in your own way back at the hotel. You would tell him you loved him, that he didn’t need McLaren. You’d joke and say that you two could form your own team, because that’s what you should have been till the end, a team.

But that wasn’t the case anymore. McLaren was your team now.

It was only a matter of days until Daniel spoke to the media about his departure.

“I can’t speak ill of her,” Daniel said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He knew that coming on this podcast that he’d be asked about you and your contract. He was advised against it but the second his working relationship ended with McLaren, he agreed to talk, to share his side.

“But she’s the one who took your seat,” Jaycee so politely pointed out. “As happy as I am to see a female in Formula 1, it’s bittersweet knowing a driver such as yourself is left without a spot.”

Daniel sighed into the mic in front of him, “McLaren handed her her dream on a papaya platter and she grabbed it. I think a lot of drivers would do the same in that scenario.”

“But it stings a little more, doesn’t it?” Greyson, her co-host asked. “Because you two were-

“Friends, yeah,” Daniel interrupted. “Yeah we were close.”

“You mentored her,” Greyson pushed for more of an admittance as to what their relationship was. “You were seen with her and the Prema team during a handful of weekends. She even said you were her mentor.”

Daniel naturally hesitated, “I saw her potential early on and I wanted to help her grow. I really did want to see her in Formula 1, despite what anyone says about the situation she’s an incredible driver.”

“Everyone who follows Formula 1 knows you have a strong connection,” Jaycee said, subtly trying to pry for more as well. “After her Silverstone crash in 2021 you were in her garage. And then you were seen in Monaco together a few weeks later. You two weren’t just friends in the paddock, you worked closely together outside of race weekends too-

“Did your girlfriend take your seat or not?” Greyson blurted out, earning a glare from Jaycee on his left, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wanted to know, the whole world wanted to know what was going on between you and Daniel now that you were signed for McLaren.

And you had to give props to Daniel, he played it off about as smoothly as he could.

“McLaren sees more potential in her than me,” he said, still smiling because that’s who he was. A people pleaser, always grinning, always a breath of fresh air. “If they can give her what they promised me, then that’s good for all of them. Do I like how the situation went down? No, but that’s the reality of Formula 1. You’re not safe unless you’re winning and I wasn’t winning.”

“And your relationship-

“She doesn’t need a mentor anymore, does she?” Daniel asked, disregarding any ideas of the two of you dating. “She made it to Formula 1. That was what she wanted. I wish her well.”

That was the closest thing to confirmation of your break up that anyone would get.

And the interview ended shortly after that, doing wonders on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. You listened to it also, just waiting for Daniel to say something horrible but of course he didn’t. That wasn’t him. He was the good guy. He was the hero. He got you to Formula 1 and was holding his head up high, wishing you well and thanking McLaren for the last 2 years.

You wished it ended there, the conversations surrounding you. It should have ended there.

But fast forward to the awards dinner at the end of the year, just shortly after the last race of the season.

You sat with your mum at a round table with Felipe and his partner and few other people involved in Formula 2.

You had finished second in the standings, not first like you had dreamt of, but Felipe told you that first place in the championship would come in F1, don’t worry.

And you weren’t sure who had made the seating chart, but from where you sat, you could easily see Daniel at his table, only a few metres away from your own. He sat with some of his friends and some people from his personal team. He was also purposely avoiding looking in your direction, knowing that if he did, he’d be making eye contact for the first time in months.

He’d see your stunning features and bright eyes standing out among the rest. He’d see the low cut, thinly strapped black dress, showing off the collarbones he used to mark with his lips, the trail between your breast and down to your navel that he used to make with his tongue. If he looked at you, he’d think of all the ways the night would have ended if things were different.

If he looked at you, he’d be reminded that the girl he loved was the one who broke him. He’d be reminded that as hurt as he was by your actions, by taking his seat, he couldn’t forget the memories you made, the moments he shared, the way he used to admire you.

He didn’t love you anymore, though. He couldn’t. He forced those feelings out, replacing them with regret for ever deciding to help you because if he hadn't helped you, it wouldn’t have been you that took his seat.

So Daniel looked at the stage, his friends, his food. He didn’t look at you.

He didn’t even look at you when you walked up to collect your trophy, choosing that moment to be the perfect time to walk up to the open bar. He ordered a few more drinks and a shot on a whim, downing it back before walking to the table, 2 freshly poured glasses of rum and cokes in hand.

Daniel got drunk that night. He didn’t mean to, but it helped him deal with all he had going on. It was a good way to end the 2022 season, to put it behind him. You, McLaren, all of it.

Someone should have stopped him when he noticed you about to leave at the end of the night, a white coat draped over your shoulders. That should be my blazer, Daniel thought, thinking of the countless nights he had given you his jacket for warmth.

You were in the middle of a conversation with someone from Prema when you felt a tug in your arm. When you looked up and saw it was Daniel who was pulling you off to the side, your heart sank. There were no butterflies anymore, just a lot of anxiety and guilt eating you from the inside.

You could tell he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say. For a split second, his gaze was soft, almost like he thought about congratulating you for a successful season. For a moment, proud Daniel was back and for a moment, you got your hopes up. Maybe this line you broke could be fixed.

It was a bad sign when his eyes grew cold, features hardening along with them. This man, who was all you wanted, stared at you like you were a stranger, and maybe you were now.

He opened his mouth and the room around you fell dark and quiet. It was your mind playing horrible tricks on you, putting a spotlight in this moment in time so it would haunt your memories after tonight. You knew the earth was still spinning, that people around you were still moving, but you couldn’t trust anything, frozen in this space with Daniel.

“I hope you’re happy,” Daniel spoke softly, but his words cut through you like a knife. If someone told you that your heart was bleeding, you’d believe it. That’s certainly what it felt like.

He didn’t want you to be happy. He didn’t want you taking his seat. He didn’t want to see you live out his dream. He put on a beautiful charade for the press, but deep down you knew, he saw you as nothing more but a mistake. He no longer wanted you to succeed, despite telling the world he wished you would.

"Daniel-"

You automatically reached for him and he flinched backwards. It hurt, seeing him react how he was. He didn’t want you touching him, he just wanted to get one more word in, wanted you to know that he was still bitter and would be for a while.

You stood there and watched him walk away, haunted by the pain and broken trust in his eyes, a look that would become burned into your mind during your restless sleeps.

And then there was the week where you just didn’t sleep. The week after Daniel’s contract with Red Bull was announced.

He wasn’t driving with them, but he wasn’t leaving Formula 1 either.

He’d still be around the paddock during selective race weekends. He’d be there, putting on a show for the fans because everyone loved him. Everyone wanted him on the grid, and if he couldn’t race, at least he was still there in the garage as a reserve driver.

The same excitement couldn’t be said for you.

Despite forming a close bond with Lando really early into the pre-season, it helped that he was only two years younger than you, you were not met with open arms and loud cheers.

You had some supporters, a lot actually, but nothing compared to Daniel’s fans. You were pulled alert and critiqued for every move you made. You could understand the questions that circulated when you didn’t even finish the first race in Bahrain, retiring early because of an engine problem. Did Zak really make the right move by replacing Daniel with you? What could you bring to the team if this was how you started the season?

But it was the talk about what you did off the track that really got to you. You didn’t care if people weren’t a fan of your driving, you knew F1 fans had their favourites and you knew you weren’t everyone’s.

However social media had a way of spinning everything. You lost count of the ridiculous rumours. Apparently, you were now replacing Daniel with Lando because that playful interview you did talking about red flags in relationships really gave away the fact you were sleeping together.

Oh you were also sleeping with Mick Schumacher, because you had a thing for reserve drivers, it seemed. And the way he found you after your second race without points again in Saudi Arabia made it so obvious that you were with him.

And you couldn’t forget about how big of a bitch you were, choosing to not acknowledge Daniel in Australia when you walked past him in the paddock. It was his home race, he was the reason you were even racing, and you couldn’t even stop and give him a smile?

These rumours were truly getting annoying.

Of course, you couldn’t come out and tell people that Lando was seeing someone because it was so new and private and not your story to tell. No one cared that Mick was your teammate at Prema in 2020 and you guys had always been friends. No one would believe you if you said that you didn’t even see Daniel in the paddock, being too engrossed in your conversation to notice that the Australian was walking past.

You grew to hate seeing him during race weekends.

It was a constant reminder of what could have been.

What if you had waited a year and signed with McLaren then? Would Daniel still hold this hatred towards you if his contract played out like it was supposed to?

What if you signed with a different team like Williams instead, and someone else replaced Daniel? If Oscar Piastri had taken his spot, would Daniel be this resentful still to see you driving? Or would he happily walk by your side in the paddock, him in Red Bull polo, you in your Williams racing suit? Would he have accompanied you during the race weekends when he didn’t have Red Bull duties?

Was there ever a scenario where he stood in your garage and watched you race? Cheering you on, despite what place you finished? Despite where he was in his own career?

Or was that just a far fetched dream?

Because let’s face it, if Daniel was still racing this year, it would be hard to support you and focus on his own season. How could he be happy if he DNF’d and you finished in the points? How could you be happy if the media would say that you were only using Daniel to get ahead?

If you had signed for Williams and Daniel was still replaced, it would be difficult for him to watch you race, to watch you do what he loved. How could he be in your corner when he no longer had a corner of his own to stand in?

Maybe you were doomed from the start. Fragile line, you said. How true that was. It was always going to snap.

You heard through the grapevine that Daniel had said you taking his seat before his contract was even up was the worst thing you could have possibly done.

Was that in regards to McLaren? To your relationship? From a sportsmanship standpoint? You had no idea. You just knew Daniel wasn’t impressed that you were racing and he wasn’t.

You hated seeing him during the few races he attended. You were petrified to run into him in the paddock, in the pit lane, in the hotel for christ sakes, you didn’t want to see him. At one point, you were desperate for even just a smidge of attention from him and now you felt sick whenever you heard he would be in attendance.

You went five races in a row without scoring any points. You could practically hear Daniel’s smug expression when you crossed the finish line each time. He was probably eating this up, knowing you were the one struggling now.

The only difference was, you didn’t have him to turn to after a shitty run in the McLaren.

Lando tried to be helpful, but he was struggling too. People called the car a tractor and honestly, so did you and Lando in private. You had a group chat with your personal trainers and the four of you called yourselves the farmers. The jokes made and lighthearted conversations shared were the only silver linings during this depressing start of a season.

Monaco was better, sort of.

You finished 10th, so at least that was a point under your belt.

But Daniel was everywhere.

He loved Monaco, he lived in Monaco, of course it was no surprise he was there that weekend.

You found yourself jogging past his flat the Thursday before the race, and you didn’t do it on purpose but it was the same route you had taken all of those times you had spent days on end at Daniel’s. Sometime he joined you for those morning runs, sometime you’d return and he was making breakfast.

But you came to a stop on the opposite side of the street and stared up at it, recognising his balcony instantly. You saw the plant in the corner that you had given him a few months into your relationship and despite him claiming he wasn’t a plant guy, he managed to keep it alive.

Your heart felt heavy. All you wanted was to knock on his door and be welcomed in with wide arms and that stupid smile of his. You wanted to not feel anxious when you saw him in the paddock. You wanted to not be holding your breath every time you got out of the racecar, wondering what Daniel thought of your run.

You were simultaneously on edge at all moments while also still dying to make him proud. You didn’t think that would ever go away.

Even during the weekends he wasn’t there, you were looking over your shoulder constantly. Even if you knew that he was on the other side of the world, he was still on your mind. He haunted your thoughts from the moment you walked into the garage to when you got out of the car at the end of the race weekend.

Lando called you out on it that Thursday in Silverstone.

“You’re in your head,” he told you, seeing how your main focus wasn’t racing, it was Daniel. You were unsure what he was referring to though and Lando just rolled his eyes, “Well actually, Daniel’s in your head. And he’s keeping you from being the driver I know you can be.”

That was all he said on the topic.

And he was right.

You were so worried about Daniel. About what he would think of your races. About trying to avoid him during the weekends he was there. About still trying to make him proud but not too proud where he resented you more for taking his seat. About the hundreds of scenarios that could have happened if you had made a different choice.

Because of all of these thoughts, that seat at McLaren was still very much Daniel’s. You allowed it to be.

You needed to stop telling yourself you took his seat because that’s what it would always be then, his seat. Lando stood up, patting your knee after dropping those few words and you decided right then and there that it was your seat.

You wouldn’t let Daniel haunt you anymore.

And qualifying was where this new mentality really showed.

You were buzzing with energy when your engineer told you that you had gotten P3 and were starting on the second row for tomorrows race. You climbed out of the car in parc ferme and ran directly to Lando. He hugged you, he was proud of you.

“That’s the driver we all know,” Lando said when he pulled his helmet off. His hand was on your shoulder, both of you were wearing identical smiles of pure joy. “Where the hell has she been all this time?”

You didn’t even have an answer, too excited about what this meant for you, for the team. You post-quali interviews went by in a blur, your hands were shaking the entire time. You blacked out during it, still trying to process the fact that you had finished third in qualifying, but you did remember Lando reaching over at one point and dropping his hand to your knee. It was polite, it didn’t mean anything more than a playful stop shaking you’re making us all look bad, but god did the media run with it.

You didn’t let anything on social media get to you, telling yourself that you had to stay focused for the race. In fact you even gave your phone to your trainer, Oliver, asking him to take it for the night and to just wake you up in the morning.

And Oliver was a good trainer, he had also become a good friend since you joined McLaren so you trusted him with your phone.

Which meant he knew your password.

So when he saw your phone light up that night with a text from Daniel, Oliver panicked. He knew the right thing to do would be to just leave it alone, you’d see it in the morning. You’d see the message. The short but seemingly sweet;

P3, nice job

But a text like that would send you spiralling and you didn't need that before one of the most important races of the season for you, Oliver knew this. He knew you were supposed to be getting over Daniel, he knew how much the Australian just being in the paddock messed with your mind. He knew you had to focus on racing.

There was so much uncertainty with the text. Was this him extending an olive branch? Was he genuine, or was this supposed to be taken with a bit of salt? Oliver could read it both ways. Either Daniel was truly happy for you, or this could be dripping with sarcasm. P3, sure, but remember who’s seat you’re in.

Oliver decided to delete the text. There was no trace of it when he handed the phone back to you the next day.

Maybe that was for the best, no one knew.

All you knew was you were starting third today.

All Daniel knew was you had ignored him, and now you were walking right past him down the paddock, side by side with Lando as you talked about today’s race. Daniel turned his head and saw the two of you, drawing his own conclusions.

Whatever was going through his mind, one thing seemed certain. You didn’t need him anymore. You had the seat, the team, someone new supporting you, why would you still need Daniel?

You went about your day, the same pre-race rituals. Lando checked in more than normal, it was an exciting day for both of you, but he knew he was also a good distraction to keep your mind off of Daniel, he knew you would be struggling to keep from thinking about him.

“It’s you and me,” Lando told you right before the race. “It’s our day, yeah? We’ve got this.”

Lando was in your corner. You were in his.

Which meant you were there to celebrate after the race when he took home second place. You had claimed fourth, which was also something to be proud of, and you were, but you were also craving that podium. You could almost taste it, it was so close.

“Next time,” Lando assured you, having full confidence that you’d be holding the trophy at the following race. He handed you a bottle of champagne, telling you to drink up and enjoy and for once, you did.

You were happy. You finally felt like you could accomplish something amazing at McLaren, despite the horrible start. Lando had gotten a podium, yours was coming, you could feel it.

You didn’t think about Daniel at all that night. It was the first night in a long time where you didn’t see his face when you closed your eyes.

And you would have loved to keep celebrating after that night, to keep the high of Lando's podium and your 4th place finish last until the next race, but all good things must come to an end.

You stood in front of Lando now, unsure how to take the news about Daniels’ return. Were you allowed to be happy for him? Of course you wanted to see him in a seat, this was the ideal situation, both of you driving this season. What would this mean for the two of you moving forward?

But he had done the exact same thing you had done by replacing a driver before their contract was up.

Daniel made you feel awful about that decision and now here he was, making the exact same one. He was no better than you. He was no hero, he wasn’t the good guy. He was a driver, desperate for a seat, as were you. As was every single person wanting to race in this series.

You were on the same playing field now.

He was going to be at every single race for the rest of the season, as a competitor on the grid. Something you once dreamt of, both of you dreamt of, was finally coming true.

But that’s all he would be. A competitor. Another driver. Another car to overtake. You always thought that when this moment came, you’d still be a team when you left the track at the end of the day and that just wasn’t the reality you found yourself in.

“He’s back,” Lando said, hands shoved in his pockets trying to gauge your reaction.

Daniel was returning to Formula 1, but you knew he was never actually gone in the first place.

He was in your thoughts, your dreams, your memories, he was everywhere all of the time. Even when you crossed the finish line in Silverstone, there was still a part of you that was wondering if Daniel was watching. As much as you tried to avoid him, your eyes still scanned every single crowd for him.

And now you didn’t need to look anymore.

part 3 gone

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taglist: @yunnie-f1 @torossosebs @whatthefuckerr @jspitwall @oconso @tsarinablogs @landowecanbewc @somanyfandomsbruh @christianpulisic10 @storminacloud @sunnytkm23 @formula1mount @azxulaa @icarus-nex @spideyspeaches if i forgot someone im so sorry

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

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waaayoutofline · 2 months

Text

When the Cat and the Mouse go for a midnight dance.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Agent Natasha x Criminal // Antihero Reader, violence, blood, murder and death, questionable moral reader, romantic insinuation (but not smut). Basically reader being a little shit and Natasha being tired of it. Fun and violent times :)

Summary —> Natasha has been chasing you, a fugitive and self claimed vigilante, for a while. One night, your paths cross again and you can’t help but to tease her a bit.

WORD COUNT: 2025

The sun’s warmth has faded, yielding to dense shadows that engulf the streets. Amid dark corners and treacherous alleys, fear triggers instincts, the sympathetic system heightening defenses and hijacking paranoia. Adrenaline kicks in, heart racing, body preparing fro any kind of danger looming around the corners.

And yet, you’ve always found a sense of comfort in it.

“Nah, I’m telling you, man, forget him. I’m not going back; that place is a hellhole.” a slightly drunk voice slurs, echoing against brick walls as rats scurry from dumpsters. A lighter crackles, followed by smoke drifting in the chilled breeze.

”Oh yeah? So, when are you telling him that?” Another scrawny voice asks with amusement. A silence, followed by a dry chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Smoke drifts slightly with the breeze, temperature drooping slightly.

“Shit, it's freezing out here.” One of the two complains.

The darkness the night brings…It allows you to hide. Yourself, your actions. From praying eyes. From the world. Perhaps even God if you are a believer.

“We’ve been safeguarding the warehouse for ages. What’s in there that he cares so much about?” he asks, taking another drag of his cigarette. For his voice, it was easy to guess he has had the nasty habit of smoking for years.

“Who knows. Drugs, guns, people…his usual shit.” His friend answers. “Honestly, I rather not know.”

You take the shot on your hand, leaving it on the trail before shaking your hair messily. A sigh scapes your lips as your hands pull down on your uncomfortably short dress.

“Whatever. I don’t give a damn as long as the money keeps flowing. Maybe he could throw in one of those spare companions of his.” The smile in his tone is evident.

“What? Want his sloppy seconds?”

“Oh fuck off.”

It allows you to either be the prey…or the hunter.

With practiced, seemingly haphazard steps, you maneuver your way toward one of the two men outside, their head turning immediately. “Woah there, sweetheart,” the one who catches you slurs, his hands immediately on your waist. His eyes darkening as he stares at you. “We wouldn’t want a sweet thing like you to hurt herself now, would we?” His breath reeks of bourbon and tobacco, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at how effortlessly this is playing out.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Your voice is sweet, innocent—a trap. “I’m so clumsy.” He laughs, revealing yellowed and crooked teeth.

“That’s alright, glad I was here.” A silly giggle, another stumble.

“Got lost?” His friend asks, currently behind you. “You shouldn’t be. There are dangerous people out here.”

At least he got that part right.

The shorter one of the two steps closer. “I was just looking for something. Think you can help?” you say, looking up with doe eyes. He appears foolish as he stares with a blurry gaze.

A whistle. “Sure thing.” You find yourself almost trapped between the two.

“Great, thanks.” Your voice returns to normal, and in a matter of seconds, you punch the one in front of you in the throat. His dirty, clammy fingers release you in panic to clutch his throat, emitting a pathetic choking sound.

“What the fu-” As his friend reacts, you swiftly turn around and knee him in the groin. He howls and crumples to the floor with a cry.

“You bitch-“ Douchebg A says as he swings, movement sloppy. You easily dodge, making him tip and fall over his buddie, the two grunting. With a sigh, you grab the collar of his jacket and drag him to the vent of the rooftop, slamming him extra hard for good measure.

He is about to strand up, but you punch him on his nose with all your strength, one, two, three times until blood drips all over his gray shirt. As his back drags down the wall behind him, you kick him full force on the face.Between the pain and the alcohol on his system, he remains seated.

Just as Douchebag B gets on all fours, you walk towards him and kick him on the stomach, making him drop to the floor once again. He rolls around, trying to get away but you grab his hair and slam him downwards.

Making sure both of them are now unmoving, your hands catch the dagger strapped on your thigh and the map. Douchebag B is still wheezing, with a concussion probably. Crouching, you shove the map on his face. “Alright. So, about that help. Point to me where the warehouse is.”

He grunts. “Like hell I’ll tell you.” He spits. A sigh escapes your lips.

”It’s never easy with you people, is it?” Flipping your dagger, you stab in the side of his lower thigh, making him yelp. “I’m not asking nicely again. Point it or I’ll take this out and you’ll bleed out in a few minutes.”

He sputters, shaking his head. You dig deeper and he lets out another cry. Dragging it down, blood starts to spurt, skin and muscle ripping. “Fuck okay, okay! Here, i-its here…S-shit.” His shaky hands marks a street, leaving a smear of blood.

You turn to watch Douchebag A. “Now, you are going to say the address. I hope for both your sakes that it matches.” He mutters it. A pause as your eyes scans the map.

You fold it, a satisfied little smile on your face and then you pull the knife out, getting away just in time to avoid a spurt of blood. “Uh, messy.”

His friends curses. You can see how his face gets pale, breaths becoming shallower as a pool of blood starts to surround him. “What the fuc- He told you! W-we told you!”

Wiping the knife with the soon-to-be dead man on the ground, you put it back in place and walk towards him. A pipe on the ground lifts as you step on it and you grab it.You pout mockingly. “Yeah, I guess you did. Don’t worry, I believe you.”

“Y-you sick bit-..:”

A swing. Two. A sickening sound of broken bones and then nothing.

The silence returns once again, only slightly disturbed by your soft humming as you go back on your steps, closing the rooftop door and returning to the dim hallways of the club. As you advance, the thrumming of the loud music beat alongside your racing heart, a mass of drunken bodies not giving a single fuck at the suspicious now maroon spot on your midnight blue dress.

Entering the bathroom, you swiftly change into your standard attire, concealed within a hidden backpack. Black jeans, a wine crop top, and a dark blue denim jacket replace the compromised ensemble. Glancing in the mirror, you prepare to rejoin the dance floor with a specific goal in mind—the bar.

Where a cute, striking bartender is apparently engrossed in serving drinks. You say apparently because you know that in reality, she is too busy searching for you. Opting to spare her the pursuit, you lock eyes, and your heart quickens for an entirely different reason.

Forest green eyes fixate solely on you, creating a euphoria-like sensation despite your sobriety. A subtle smirk materializes under the focused gaze, and with a gentle sway of your hips, you approach her slowly, almost teasingly. On your way, you accidentally get in the way of a woman, who ends up backing away on a body next to her. ”Oh, so sorry!” You call out with an easy smile, still not changing directions.

“What? Not using the “what is such a beautiful lady like yourself doing here out of all places” line?” You tease, sitting on the stool, resting your chin on your right hand. She scoffs.

”Oh please, we both know that the lady is fully aware of what she is doing.” Her voice is deep, a bit raspy. Her words are calculated and you just want for her to lose her composure.

With a playful tone, you note. “Hm, you didn’t deny the “beautiful”. Do you fancy me, Agent Romanoff?”

“Hm, perhaps. Only if only you weren’t a worldwide fugitive.” Natasha answers back, tone dripping with mockery.

”I’l take that as a yes.” She wipes a glass, your eyes tracking the simple yet effective movements. “So, tell me. How many to the party did you bring today? For your sake, I hope they aren’t rookies.”

Natasha scoffs. “The building is surrounded. If you come willingly now, it all would go more…easy. For both of us.”

A snort. ”Aw, and cut short this cute Tom and Jerry little game we have? Please. We both know you enjoy it just as much as me, Natalia.” Her name comes out in almost a whisper as you get slightly closer. Your words hang in the air, charged with tension. “Don't tell me you don’t reveal on the thrill of the chase.”

She chuckles, the sound rich and low. “You and your flair for the dramatic. But let's not forget the reality of our situation. You are a criminal, and I’m tasked with bringing you in.”

It’s funny, really. The way in which this banter is maybe the only thing that makes adrenaline rush into your veins, well that besides your job of course. Still, you can't help but feel amused by it. “Yeah, sure, because your buddies are going to stop me. Let’s see, then!”

Clapping with your hands happily, you turn around slightly to look at the crowd. “Who will it be? PDA couplet over there?”

Natasha follows your pointing thumb, frowning when she sees the girl you shoved “accidentally”, now passionately making out with a tall, brunette dude. “The ones who guarded the exits which are currently tied up in the janitors closet?…Or perhaps the one who will tell you about my little handywork?”

Just in time, a slight buzzing tingles in the Russian agent’s ear. “Agent Romanoff, we found two gang members on the roof. One is already dead, several blunt trauma, and the other is about to bleed out. He has a few minutes tops.”

Her veiny hand grips the counter, knuckles turning white. A low whistle escapes you at the sight. “I mean, you could try and stop me yourself. Let me say, I’m not opposed to you putting me in handcuffs.” You tease with a dangerous glint in your eyes, your fingers tracing her left wrist up to her bicep. If she is bothered because of your touch, she doesn’t show it. But you see how her grip relaxes ever so slightly. Hm, interesting. “...or you could go, get the information from that dying bastard before it’s too late and you end up being stuck in a dead-end. Again.”

The wheels in her head are practically visible. Her eyes darken, and her jaw tenses. Oh, how you love to see her all worked up, knowing that you are one of the few who can break her cold composure. You mouth a tick-tock and with a hard downing of the bottle on her hand to the counter.

”This isn’t over. I’ll get my hands on you eventually.”

A pout. “Promise?” With a last scowl, she flies off.

Rushing through the stairs, the cold air hits Natasha on the face, her eyes adjusting to the poor light. “How is he?” Her eyes fall on the weapons you used, hand grabbing the now blooded pipe.

“I already cover the wound, but the blood he's lost is too much. He won't make it to the medbay.” Crouching next to him, Natasha see the sickly pale tone of his face, eyes practically close and hears the shallow, broken breaths. Her eyes inspect the now covered deadly wound and grunts in frustration. “Hey, can you hear me?”

No response. He is dead. Out of frustration, she punches the vent next to him. “Um, ma’am? You should see this.”

A brick wall, right next to the door, with a message written in blood. “When you stop scowling, give me a call dear. Swear I’ll play nice.”

Grunting in frustration, Natasha throws the pipe against the wall, fuming. Looking over the street, she doesn’t see you anywhere. You are gone, even if something tells her you are giggling under the shadows.

#mcu #fanfic #marvel #marvel blurb #natasha romanoff #black widow #reader insert #natasha x reader

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girlboypersonthingy · 3 months

Note

Hello I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but I had an idea about a hazbin hotel request, so what if everyone at the hotel (except Alastor) consider the reader a big sister who takes shit from no one, like will slap someone without hesitation if they talk bad about any of their friends, especially when Valentino tries something will literally beat him up until he's half dead. (If you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight)

Oh, nonnie, you are never a bother! I love getting new requests, feeds my soul tbh. I love this idea too! As much as I love romantic x readers and NS/FW x readers, I also love me some platonic Hazbin 🤍 good morning/afternoon/evening to you and ENJOY!

Notes: fem!reader, this is kinda short sorry, added Alastor at the end but just a snippet :)

TW: aggression, fighting, swearing

Rough and Tough- Hazbin x platonic!reader

Charlie ❤️‍🔥

Adores your passion and bravery but is often the one to hold you back or stand between you and your foe.

She loves keeping you close tho bc she has a hard time asserting dominance and speaking up for herself and you’re always willing to speak your mind on her behalf. You always help uplift and empower her, she greatly appreciates that.

Charlie also really does see you as a sister. As an only child, she grew up pretty sheltered and lonely, but being with you now is really healing her inner child.

When Charlie is having any kind of issue, she always goes to Vaggie, her darling girlfriend. But, when Charlie feels the need to vent about and get advice on her relationship with Vaggie, she turns to you. When Vaggie is busy and away, Charlie goes to you.

Pretty much every weekend, Charlie invites you and the other girls in the hotel to her room for a sleep over and some fun girly time

You def tagged along with her to the meeting with heaven along with Vaggie and while Vaggie is like “keep a cool head, babe.” You’re literally trying to climb up to where Adam is seated so you can rip that smug smile off his stupid, ignorant, narcissistic face and slap Lute with it.

Vaggie’s just panicking as she tries to keep you and Charlie calm lmao

Vaggie ⚔️

TWO PEAS IN A POD TBH

Vaggie adores you and you are often each other’s impulse control and each others biggest instigators

Vaggie getting pissed that someone is trying to sabotage the hotel and storming up to the traitor with her angelic spear cocked back and ready to kill

Enter big sis pulling her back and trying to talk some sense into her

Also you getting livid when someone talks negatively about Vaggie being a fallen angel, or worse being a former exorcist and being untrustworthy

Bad words and ugly names are pouring from your angry mouth, fists balled up and ready to go, muscles tense in anticipation

Cue Vags hugging you as she pulls you away, whispering that it doesn’t bother her so don’t let it bother you

But it bothers you bc you know it bothers her…she doesn’t deserve that.

As Rosie said, maybe she’s trying to be redeemed too…? Being shit talked is only going to put bad thoughts in her head and you can’t stand to see your family belittled like that

Sometimes, if the situation is just bad enough, you and Vaggie lose it together and no one can stop yall now. It’s honestly just as frightening as when Alastor shows his full demon form, you and Vaggie violently teamed up together like this.

Angry Vaggie + Angry big sis reader = a terrible ending for whoever is at the sharp end of her spear and at the mercy of your fists

Angel Dust 🕸️

Is very intimidated by you at first but grows so fond of you as he gets to know you. He admires your courage so much, he wishes he could be more like you.

He never feels safer than when he’s at the hotel with you near by. He knows that whatever he lacks when up against an opponent, you’ll be there to pick up the slack and watch his back.

Angel doesn’t have many true friends or familial figures in hell, and he misses his own sister so terribly. You fill that empty spot in his heart so perfectly, he wishes you had been around when he was still alive.

You two hang out a lot- his flirty, bubbly, goofy demeanor and your kind, accepting but stubborn attitude makes for some fun late night talks and some exciting outings together

Some dude tries to touch Angel out on the street without his consent? Oh fuck no. Before he knows it, the loser demon is groaning from the hard concrete floor as you grab Angel by the wrist, both of you stepping over the banged up body of the handsy asshole.

“It’s called consent! Look it up, ya fuckin prick.” Angel gets such a confidence boost being with you, you are the physical threat and he is the voice that tears them apart even further. You bruise their skin, he bruises their ego

Angel can’t help but laugh everytime you lose it for him. He just enjoys your company and support so much. He says he can handle himself and while he totally can, it’s just nice to have someone back him up, someone who truly cares for him.

Husk 🃏

BRO IS SUCH AN INSTIGATOR!!!

While Vaggie and Charlie often try to hold you back and calm you down, Husk cheers you on in any and every tense situation you find yourself in

“Oooooh you’re in for it now, bone head.” He’ll smirk and watch with a pleased smirk on his face as you pummel some sinner who dared to threaten the hotel and its residents

Husk’s fav pastime is sitting back with a bottle of booze as he watches you just go ham on some stupid, loud mouth loser who tried to pick a fight with the former overlord

Husk isn’t afraid of a fight, he’s not afraid to get up close and personal with the action but he must admit it’s nice to feel cared for enough to have someone sacrifice their own safety just to protect him.

The only time Husk has intervened during one of your episodes of frustration and rage is when Alastor said something to Husk that rubbed you the wrong way. Seeing Husk’s terrified and helpless expression in response to Alastor’s threats lights a fire in your chest.

“How dare you talk to him like that! I don’t give a shit if you own him, he’s not your fucking pet, you piece of-“

Husk practically, no literally begged Alastor to let it go and leave you be which he did but only bc he sort of admired your lack of fear and your loving but fierce protective attitude.

Husk also greatly admires your lack of fear and strong will. He wishes you were his family for real, maybe he wouldn’t be so depressed and fucked up.

Sir Pentious 🐍

Admires tf out of you, babies tf out of you.

He sees you as more of a little sis, wanting to coddle and defend you always.

Sees you coming back to the hotel one day with some bruises and bloody hands and hes immediately comforting you, trying to clean you up even tho you’re clearly fine.

But, he must confess he loves teaming up with you bc together you’re the perfect pair- Pentious with his tools and inventions and intricate weapons and you with your amazing strength and hot headed, witty comebacks and your courage and your quick thinking.

When he feels that he needs to step in and keep you from doing something stupid, he does so with all his might. Pentious would rather face your wrath himself than let you go and get yourself hurt or killed.

Go ahead, take your anger out on him but don’t risk yourself just for him.

You two totally bond over wanting to be seen as evil, devious and powerful but you’re both actually soft little sweet hearts deep down.

You two cry together a lot lmao. It’s always him crying first and then his crying triggers you.

He would frequently talk to you about how you are always so brave, fearless, strong, never faltering, never second guessing yourself. He’d ask where you learned to be so sure of yourself, he wants to learn to be more like that.

Alastor 🩸

SEES YOU AS HIS EQUAL BUT WILL NEVER ADMIT IT. CANT UNDERSTAND HOW YOU STAND YOUR GROUND AGAINST EVERY ENEMY YOU’VE EVER TAKEN ON, EVEN HIMSELF. YOU HAVE NO POWERS, YOU OWN NO SOULS, YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS PARTNERS OR BLOOD RELATIVES DOWN HERE SO WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE SO SPECIAL??? YOU’RE NOT SCARED OF HIM? OH, VERY INTERESTING. HE WANTS TO CUT YOUR LITTLE BRAIN OPEN AND EXAMINE IT, YOU’RE JUST AN ENIGMA TO HIM, HE ADORES YOU. WISHES YOU REALLY WERE THE DAUGHTER HE SPAWNED FOR REAL FOR REAL HE’D BE SO PROUD

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

cold nights // part eleven

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, indirect suicidal ideation (she's losing it just a little), r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: the games are almost over...

series masterlist // playlist

You climb up out of the hole in the floor you had first entered with Jessup over a day ago, peeking carefully over the edge. Coral and Mizzen were standing guard at the vent exits in the stands, too distracted to notice as you wave at Reaper, trying to catch his eye.

You had spent the past half hour dragging Jessup toward the exit, you wanted to help, but you couldn't get him up the rocks you stood on now; not with the weakness of hunger leaving your hands shakey and the wound on your leg making it nearly impossible to move much on your own.

"No, no... Come on..." Coryo groans to himself, shaking his head at you as you try and grab your enemy's attention. Clemensia wasn't there, but if she was, he knew she would be laughing. He thought you might have been dead in those vents, especially after watching the other two tributes go in after you. You were alive, but seemingly not for long.

"Reaper." You whisper, your voice almost silent. The air carries his name to him and he turns his head to look at you. He tilts his head, standing and reaching for his blade, but you're not scared. You duck back down quickly before Coral or Mizzen hear his footsteps and look to see where he's going. They wouldn't go after him, not yet, but they were absolutely after you.

You check to make sure he's still coming before climbing back down to where you left Jessup.

The District Eleven boy peers over the edge to make sure this isn't some kind of trap, and you sense his hesitation. "Can you bring him up?" You whisper, kneeling again next to the body of your friend. "I couldn't get him up, but he deserves to be with them. He needs his dignity. Please, Reaper."

His expression softens and he nods solemnly, climbing down. "You can kill me, if you want." You say softly, and he looks at you confused as he hoists the boy up in his arms. "I'll go with you. Just, lay me with him. Please?"

He sighs, shaking his head softly before climbing up with Jessup draped over his shoulder. You follow, limp in every step as you make your way across the floor toward your demise. Head held high.

Coryo is clutching the edge of his desk as he stands over it, shaking his head. He looks back at his cousin, only briefly enough to catch the tears forming in her eyes at what they both know is about to happen.

"Can I... Can I say something first? For them?" You ask, just as Coral and Mizzen realize at the same time that you're out in the open, no longer hiding.

"I'm not going to kill you." Reaper mutters, shaking his head as he pulls the fabric over your friend's body.

You look at him with tears in your eyes, offering a smile. Coryo knew that smile, one of realization and fear. The very same one you had on your face at the reaping. "No..." He shakes his head at you, pleading with you to just run.

You look away from Reaper as Coral is climbing down the wall, clearly intent on getting to you.

"I'm sorry about Dill." You tell him and he's already gripping his weapon tighter, ready to defend himself. You could see in his eyes he didn't want to.

He looks at you, respect being the only descriptor of what's behind his gaze as you kneel before the flag of the country that had so deeply wronged you.

"One summer Sabbath day I strolled among the green mounds of the village burial-place;" You start, closing your eyes in attempted acceptance of what was to come. "Where, pondering how all human love and hate find one sad level..."

What you and your mentor are both expecting doesn't come as the two tributes get closer, and shockingly to him, Reaper steps between them and you, blade held tight. He's armed to defend the eulogy all of those kids deserved which only you could offer.

"And how, soon or late, Wronged and wrongdoer, each with meekened face, and cold hands folded over a still heart," Your voice begins to shake. "Pass the green threshold of our common grave, Whither all footsteps tend, whence none depart, Awed for myself, and pitying my race, our common sorrow, like a mighty wave..."

Coryo is angry when the face of Dr. Gaul interrupts your eulogy on the screen. He would miss your last words, your death. He couldn't even be there in your final moments, and it made him sick. However, it was the respect you deserved. As she talked on about the death of his classmate from the bombing, he hoped the cameras wouldn't show you at all. Just your body covered by the fabric of the flag, a new figure wrinkling the material, occupying the space underneath it next to Jessup.

"I swear to you here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there is to be no victor in these games." Dr. Gaul's words finally pique your mentor's interest, memory, and realization coming back to him. He quickly taps through his communicuff, typing rapidly and hitting send before rushing out of the hall. He promised you he would do everything he could. The least he could do for you was stay true to his word.

"Well, those were some lovely last words." Coral laughs bitterly and you just hum.

"They are for you as well, should you see it fit." You tell her, opening your eyes but making no effort to flee, palms resting on the battered and bruised skin of your thighs.

She chuckles, shaking her head. "No, no. The difference between me and all of you is that I'm gonna win."

You watch as Mizzen looks away from his ally, eyes landing on the ground and Reaper clenches his jaw.

"Swept away all my pride, and trembling, I forgave." You finish off the poem, looking back down to the red sheet in front of you.

"What are you even talking about?" Coral asks. "Genuinely, what do you mean? I'm sick of this. I don't understand a thing you say!"

"I forgive you, if you win." You tell her in plainer terms, tilting your head. "I hope you can forgive yourself, that is all."

"No forgiveness needed." She says through gritted teeth, raising her trident as she moves to run at you.

You close your eyes again, tipping your head back and letting out a slow breath to combat the intense beating of your heart.

Again, the pain doesn't come as you hear the clashing of weapons just next to you, and the subtle hum of approaching drones.

Looking up behind you, you see several flying in a row and you duck quickly enough as it flies toward you for it to just miss you. You scramble to get up, ignoring the chaos around you as one by one, the water bottles fly into the other tributes. Reaper was much better at dodging them than the other two were, and you can't help but view it as some kind of justice. If Coryo was sending them in one after another as some kind of distraction, to save you, you were glad Reaper wasn't being harmed in the process.

It must have been Coryo. All of them seem to circle in on you, and as you spin out of the way they take out Mizzen and Coral just enough to buy you time. Their mentors had clearly been less generous; to you, their efforts to evade the flying metal drones were pointless.

The last one is different, coming in moments later than the others as Coral and Mizzen struggle to get back on their feet.

You drop down to let it fly over you, scrambling for the small container that looked like the previous ones that had contained a note. You grab it and run into the debris in the middle of the room, using it to hide while you open the note.

"Get up high. No time. -C"

You look out the side facing the other tributes you just ran from. "How did you let her get away?" Coral spits at her ally, once again uninterested in going after Reaper. "You're useless!"

You shake your head, slowly shuffling over to the other side. Looking across the floor and up to the stands, you think you could make your way up to the rafters. You take a deep breath. You have to run.

You're working up the courage to do it when a loud whirring sound comes from above you. Now's your chance- they won't hear you, so you might buy yourself a few extra yards. You're glad you did when you look back at the large tank being lowered down onto the pile of rubble you were just under, the wind whipping your hair around and in your face.

Coryo must have been warning you about whatever that is, so you run as fast as you can on your injured leg, feeling blood soak through the material again with the exertion. You quickly scale the wall, not looking back again as you quickly climb the stairs to the back of the stands. You stop at the top, adrenaline coursing through your veins with every heartbeat as you reach down to untie the scarf with frantic hands.

You glance down as you do, surveying the arena just as Wovey walks out. "Is it over? Can we go home now?"

"Wovey..." Reaper warns, having taken your spot kneeling next to the bodies that are now exposed from the wind.

"Wovey!" You call to her and she doesn't even turn to look at you. "Wovey, come up here, sweetheart! Quickly!" You try to mask the urgency in your voice, already descending the stairs again to try and get to her. Then you stop yourself when you get to the railing.

What would be the use in helping her now? That was your gut instinct, but if you saved her, you would have no choice but to take your own life if you were left the only two survivors of whatever came out of that tank. Or would you? The you who boarded the train to the Capitol would do it in a heartbeat, but she was someone else now, hardly more than a voice in the back of your mind.

You're still facing this internal battle as the tank shatters, thousands of snakes pouring out over the ground as Coral and Mizzen attempt to follow the same path you did up into the stands. It's too late for Wovey, so you turn to run back up the stairs.

You didn't realize how fast snakes could be. By the time you reached the top, they were already climbing the base of the stairs below you, right behind Coral.

"Y/N! Wait!" She cries out helplessly as you're backed against the wall.

The old you would be mortified at the smile that forms on your face as you watch her stumble, allowing the snakes to reach her. "No... Y/N, please... I'm begging you." You just stare at her, tilting your head and still fighting the smile on your lips. "No... It's not fair. It's not- it's not... I can't have killed them all for nothing."

"The wheel is come full circle." You quote, "Don't you see, Coral? It was always going to be for nothing." You're unsure if she even hears it before she goes limp.

You don't have time to revel in the irony, though, looping the bloodied scarf over the beam above you and hoisting your feet off the ground just in time to avoid the snakes. They climbed the wall, so you don't stop there, swinging your leg over and pulling yourself up, standing on unsteady legs to shuffle across to the next point where you can get higher.

Coryo watches as you climb higher and higher into the remains of the crumbled ceiling, huffing from just having run back into the crowded hall. When would Dr. Gaul call it? You had escaped, and you were clearly the only one left by the time you got so high you couldn't walk in the rafters anymore, having to tie the scarf on both sides of a pipe to build a makeshift hammock for yourself that you just squeeze into enough to sit on.

You can finally catch your breath, gripping onto the bar you're hanging from and resting your head against it.

"She cheated! She shouldn't have even been allowed to bring that in!" Festus cries out, clearly upset by his own tribute losing.

"Wearing clothes is cheating now? If you had it your way they would all be sent in naked, right?" Coryo spits at him, gesturing to the screen and turning to look up at Dr. Gaul in the stands. "Get her out!"

"There's two tributes unaccounted for." She shakes her head.

"Yeah, they're dead by now! You saw the snakes go in there!" He argues, gesturing to the screen. "She's won, Dr. Gaul. Please." She eyes him skeptically.

"Get her out!" Tigris stands, having his back without any hesitation.

Dr. Gaul raises a hand to silence the room as others start to voice their agreement. "Tomorrow morning we will send people in to search for the other two tributes." She states, leaving no room for argument as she steps out.

Coryo huffs, shaking his head and walking over to his cousin. "What do I do?" He asks her quietly as she stands to speak with him.

"I think we just have to wait it out, Coryo..." She answers, reaching up to rub his shoulders. "It's not ideal, but she can survive one more night. No one can hurt her now."

"With all those snakes in there with her? I wouldn't be surprised if those snakes grow legs in the night and climb up there."

"Coryo, they won't." She assures him. "All we can do is wait."

Sitting up there for hours with no signs of help coming has made you feel incredibly lonely. Your mentor can't send you anything, there's no shot you would catch it or even be able to move out of the way. That is, if he was even still watching. The sun had set a while ago, he should have gone to bed by now.

You yawn and rub your eyes, back cramping from holding your weight the way it has for so long. You sigh, gently tapping your forehead on the cold metal bar you're hanging from in a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. If you fall asleep, that could mean your death. You'd come too far, sacrificed too many of your morals to lose now.

You regret what you had said to Coral before she died. You regret not trying harder to save Wovey. You regret setting the salt trap on Treech and Tanner in the vents, though your overtired and malnourished mind is still convincing you it was just table salt. You regret not helping Jessup while you still could have. You wonder if Coriolanus regrets what he did to Bobbin.

You take the compact out of your pocket, slowly and carefully. You turn it over in your hand for a moment, mulling over everything you had done. Even in one day, you had tossed away everything you stood for. You felt like you weren't even yourself anymore.

Coryo yawns as he looks over the book in his hand, rubbing his eyes before returning his gaze back to the screen when he catches your movement in the corner of his eye.

You're opening the compact, staring into it with such intensity that he truly cannot tell what you're thinking. He couldn't see if it was empty or not, but he hadn't seen you touch it until now and the angle at which you were holding it without powder pouring out made him assume that the boys in the vents were not likely dead from snake venom.

Coryo is quickly doubting what is left of the powder he gave you when a tear falls from one eye, steadily sliding over your dirtied skin. No. She wouldn't- not when she's already won, right?

Maybe it's because you hadn't heard from him that you felt so alone. Before he can think over the consequences of possibly knocking you down from the rafters he's sending you more water. Just so you know he's there.

The leftover residue of the salt that was inside the compact was looking like it could help. On what level, you didn't fully understand anymore, but you knew that if you just smelled what was left of it, you would feel better. You would be free of your regrets and would be home in an instant; such a tempting thought was hard to resist.

Coryo couldn't be more pleased that as you began to lift the metal compact toward your face, the drone flew in and missed you just close enough that it knocked the compact out of your hand, throwing it to the floor below you.

You hadn't heard it coming, completely zoned out. You blink a few times, looking around and watching as the drone gets caught in the rafters and falls into the stands, the water bottle shattering in the process.

The crazed, evil look in your mentor's eyes is another thing able to keep you up by this point. It didn't look like the boy you knew at all. It's like your Coryo wasn't even there- it was Coriolanus. But now, he was still with you. The irony of it isn't lost on you, and you find yourself laughing.

Coryo was no longer Coryo, and you were no longer you.

"Coriolanus, can you hear me all the way up here?" You call out, expecting nothing anyway.

No response, but in Heavensbee Hall Coriolanus is taking a breath of relief, having seemingly prevented you from taking your own life. You were so close. He wouldn't lose you now.

"His sword, death's stamp, where it did mark, it took. From face to foot he was a thing of blood, whose every motion was timed with dying cries!" Your laughs quickly devolve into sobs, tears warming the cold skin of your cheeks. You thought you knew him. You thought he cared for you, and that was crushed so quickly that you ran.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he watches, completely unable to help you while you clearly fall apart.

"Do you regret it?" You cry. "Coriolanus? Is that who you are?"

"No..." He mumbles in response.

"I thought..." You sniff. "I thought you were good."

He remembers what Tigris told him that very same night. That he wasn't full of hate like his father. That he could be good. That he is good. He did what he had to do to survive, and his heart physically hurts hearing you say that you saw something different. He remembers what you wrote in your note that he shouldn't have read yet. You believe- believed he was good too. Even just knowing that you changed your mind makes his stomach turn.

You're quiet for a few moments before you continue. "But I can't blame you for what you did..." You say, so quiet that the microphone hardly picks it up at all. "I am no better."

Coryo furrows his brow. You were so much better. He's almost certain that your kindness, your purity is one of the only reasons he feels regret for his actions at all.

"I wish it was me." You cry out. "It should have been me!" You're screaming now, your anger finally eating away at you.

He shakes his head at you, grateful that he is the only one still around.

"What if this cursed hand were thicker than itself with brother's blood? Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens to wash it white as snow?" You sob out every word, begging the universe to forgive you for what you had done. This night was your karma. Without that compact, it would go on forever. "Please..."

All he can do is return to the book, trying to remember you as you truly are, hardly taking in a word of it as he reels over what to say to you come your freedom in the morning.

The sun is rising, finally, when you look down and see the piles and piles of lifeless snakes. They must not have survived the night. It was too cold.

Hesitantly, you shimmy your way down the bar so you could climb back down, getting close enough to see if they really were all dead. You pick up a piece of broken cement from on top of one of the beams, tossing it down onto the large pile of snakes on the stairs. Almost no movement. As you scan the arena, you don't much slithering. It's quiet. Seems safe enough.

You jump down quietly onto the stairs, finally able to fully stretch out. It felt so good as you walked down even with the wound on your leg, making your way over to where you had seen the compact fall the night before. You take a few minutes to find it under the arena seats, before pocketing it and sliding down the same rubble pile you climbed up last night. That was the longest night of your life. Your eyes were puffy from crying for hours, lips dry from dehydration, and your skin felt clammy from your body trying to keep itself warm all night.

You walk across the ground, stepping carefully over all the dead snakes, turning and waving to the camera, plastering on your smile. You were exhausted. You needed something. Anything.

But nothing would come. You frown, looking around again. You settle just for wandering, once again tying the scarf around your waist. Coryo must hate you for what you said. You shouldn't have been so mean about it, but you were angry- hardly even yourself anymore. Or maybe he was just sleeping. He said he would be with you the whole time, but it would be nice to know that he at least went home to get some rest.

Even when you were angry, when he had taken what you needed from you last night, it was hard to deny how much you still cared for him.

As you walk in circles around the centre of the arena, you're startled by some of the snakes beginning to move. Or maybe they always had been moving, and you just weren't observant enough from being so overtired. They make no effort to attack you, though. Minding their own business even after the fervor at which they hunted everyone last night.

Scanning the large pile of rubble in the middle to see how many snakes were seemingly coming back to life, you tilt your head as your eye catches on something white. A piece of paper, unfolded on the ground next to where the tank used to be. You have to step past dozens of snakes to get there, curiously picking it up. Any living snakes made no effort to bite you as you grabbed it and turned it over in your hand. It was your note, the one you asked Sejanus to give to Coryo before you entered the games.

You look around, unsure how this could have gotten in. Maybe he had dropped it while he was here the other night, but you weren't sure how a single piece of paper could have gone unnoticed that long.

You reread it as you make your way over to where Lamina and Marcus had been, climbing up so you could lay down there while you wait for rescue to come.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction #hunger games #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #snow lands on top #coryo snow

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nyaagolor · 18 days

Text

Bad Polls and the Art of Engagement Bait

So as anyone who follows this blog probably noticed, I posted a poll yesterday. Sorry ace attorney tumblr, it was bait. That was part of a little social experiment to test some theories I had about engagement bait and the tumblr "algorithm"-- and it was a resounding success!! I even made a replicate, that being a similar poll only hours later, which had basically the same result. Somehow. Now that the cat is officially out of the bag, I thought it would be fun to talk about it!

The entire point of this little social experiment was to combine some observations I had about what posts do well, the general attitude of tumblr users, and how to maximize engagement with minimal effort within fandom spaces. Thus, I'm combining all my thoughts into a little guide: how to make the lowest effort, highest engagement post possible:

Recognize that negative engagement on tumblr travels father than positive engagement Tumblr may not have an algorithm, but the system is still set up in a way where negative engagement rewards the poster more than positive engagement. A simple "like" is enough to show agreement or approval, but dissent or shock requires replies or reblogs (the latter of which are significantly more common). More reblogs = more people seeing the post, and thus posts that elicit a negative reaction tend to travel further than positive ones

Capitalize on the fact that people love to bitch about things when given the opportunity Generally speaking, going onto a random post you hate and exclaiming how much you hate it is a bit of a tumblr faux pas. Same thing with venting about how much you dislike something. While bringing up the topic yourself and being snippy to specific people are frowned upon, however, places like polls that provide an opportunity to bitch about things are a great outlet, and a LOT of people will take it

Take advantage of the poll's inherent anonymity This may seem counterintuitive-- the person posting the poll and everyone reblogging it aren't anonymous at all! This doesn't matter though, only the votes do. The anonymity of the votes on a tumblr poll turn the opinions of others, no matter their relative size, into a nebulous opinion of the indeterminate masses. THIS is the most important part of the engagement bait, because tumblr users love to complain but aren't likely to do so to someone directly for fear of hurting their feelings or getting called out for being rude. If you can take a dissenting opinion and remove the actual user from the equation, people are far more likely to share exactly what they think about it-- this is when the "no reading comprehension" and "you people seriously think (X)" and "ugh I hate fandom" takes come out en masse. Tumblr users may be mean, but more importantly we are also cowards. In the case of the poll I posted above, even extremely small minority opinions were being commented on in almost every single reblog, despite the fact that these opinions made up less than 10% of the votes for a majority of the poll's run.

More buzzwords, less nuance Buzzwords and a lack of nuance work together to make engagement more likely-- buzzwords are often both overused and misused, while a lack of nuance (typically in the form of a yes or no question) eggs people into explaining themselves. Combine these two and you add people justifying themselves, arguing with others, and complaining about the buzzword in general into your reblogs, boosting your numbers even more. In my case, I chose the lowest of the low when it comes to poll topics: "Is (recognizable character) (buzzword)?". How people fell for this twice I'm not sure, but it works!

If things are getting boring, stir the pot yourself You can use alt accounts or just make up tags yourself, but I was too lazy to do this. However, there's always the option of cherrypicking-- screenshot outlandish or dissenting tags, even if it's just one in a sea of hundreds, and post that in a reblog with an incredulous caption. Bringing tags to the attention of the majority invites new focus on those tags AND your poll, giving people another outlet to add their takes. Some people will likely even reblog it Again.

Now that the bait is set, watch people in your notes talk over themselves like a flock of seagulls

Congrats! You've now made a successful bait poll. Fortunately or unfortunately, mine worked so well that people fell for it twice, both of them got thousands of votes each within the day, my notifications are overflowing, and popular blogs have made posts referencing it. Point proven, hypothesis verified. As they say: easy website.

#mod vex #what do i even tag this #ace attorney poll experiment

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haunted-headset · 8 months

Note

WILBUR BEING ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH YN HIS WHOLE LIFE SINCE THEY WERE LITTLE BUT YN JUST HATES COUPLES AND STUFF AND SAYS THAT SHE WILL NEVER FALL IN LOVE WHEN WILBUR IS AROUND AND HES JUST SAD. BUT YN ENDS UP SLOWLY FALLING FOR HIM AND KISSES HIM FIRST.

I LIVE FOR BOY FALLS IN LOVE FIRST STORIES

☾ I Wanna Be the One That Makes Your Day ☽

Summary: Wilbur Soot friend-to-lovers headcanons but his friend obviously doesn't want to fall in love

author's note: i'm so sorry i couldn't think of a story for this! I'm really burnt out today so I just made a headcanons list! The title was inspired by a song called Best Friend if you were curious :D

pairing: school!bur x gn!reader

pronouns used for reader: You/yours

tags: @vibestillaxxx@joviepog (lemme know if you want to be tagged in the next one in DMs!)

warnings/cw: kissing, reader sort of turns down Wilbur but not really?

genre: fluff/slight angst

You two had been friends since forEVER. He would probably become your friend because he saw you sitting alone at lunch or something in elementary school & he thought you were pretty/handsome & you seemed cool

He never mentioned anything about romance to you until you guys were probably like 14 & he finally had the guts

↑↑ "So, uh, anyone catch your eye?" he asked. You made a fake throwing-up sound. "Romance is boring," you replied. "I'm not in the mood to fall in love, to be honest."

↑↑ he is officially depressed. Crying himself to sleep while listening to Olvia Rodrigo's breakup songs. Venting to Tommy 24/7 & just being like "TOMMYYYYYY Y/N WILL NEVER FALL IN LOVE WITH MEEEEE"

He tries to hint to you a few times that he likes you, but you never notice, so he gives up. He tries to date a few other kids at school, but none of them were you. & he was like "oh uh maybe i should just y'know magically become aroace & then all my problems will be solved" (he's such a stupid, hot, scrunkly little boy)

One day, you kind of notice that Wilbur is...cuter than usual. Yeah, he was good-looking, but you were never attracted to him until today. You just wanted to kiss his lips off, make him run out of breath...

BUT he's dated other people & seems like he doesn't like you so you just say nothing

↑↑ fast-forward to the future when you guys are like 27 & you're roommates & you are oh so very madly in love with him & it pains you to not tell him.

↑↑ "Wilbur?" you said one night as your heart raced. You were typing on your laptop before bed. "Yeah?" You closed your laptop, got up, & kissed him. You didn't think, as usual, but you just knew that this felt right. Then you pulled away like nothing happened & went to your room.

↑↑"...Y/N WHAT-" Wilbur ran to your room.

You two may or may not have made out for the rest of the night <3

#wilbur soot #fanfic #wilbursoot #creative writing #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #dsmp wilbur

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for kicking someone from my server and not explaining why?

(emojis so I can find later: 🪨🪨🪨)

[This happened a few years ago, but I’ll write the ages as they were at the time.]

I (14M) made a server for a fandom I was in. It was a small fandom (I was mutuals with every single fan on tumblr) so I thought it’d be nice to have a place we can all talk other than the tumblr dashboard. This was also not my first server — I had 2 or 3 years of experience running them (having run a server with 100ish members a year or two beforehand) so I was fully confident in my ability to run a server with less than 20 people, especially since everyone knew each other and was friends already.

Now, there was this person in the server, we’ll call her B (16F). I wasn’t super close with her, but ofc I was friends with her through the fandom. We didn’t talk much — the only time I can recall us speaking outside of discord was to send fandom art requests to each other. Obviously I didn’t have a problem with her coming in, but as she spoke more in my server, I started to question whether she was somebody I wanted hanging around.

I won’t go into full depth of things she said or did (both for privacy’s sake and to keep things brief), but I’ll explain my biggest reasons for kicking her.

First, she vented a lot, which typically I wouldn’t judge, but I really didn’t want a fandom server associated with so much negativity — and not only that, but the way she vented was very… I mean, we would be telling her things she did wrong in general channels, and then she would go to the vent channel and say things like “I’m sorry I’m so stupid and such a bad person I didn’t know what I was doing wrong.” and then we’d (well, everybody else — I don’t play these games with people) all have to console her. Not only that, but she’d vent about shit like — “I’m such a bad person because I’m cis. I’m sorry for being cis.” In a server full of trans people.

Second was her ableism towards autistic people, in a server also full of autistic people (This is honestly the biggest thing I had against her). Since most of us were autistic, we headcanoned most (if not all) of the characters in the series as autistic, usually with little basis in canon. One person specifically said “I think X character is autistic” and most people agreed, until she came along and said “No, they’re too normal.” We were all kind of like “???” until somebody said “Autistic people are normal” and she said “No, they’re all learning disabled” and some other stuff I don’t remember off the top of my head. (Obviously nothing wrong with having learning disabilities and many autistic people do have them etc, it’s just the way she went about saying what she said — and also disagreeing with a harmless headcanon because a character was too “normal” to be autistic). Again, most of us are autistic and were offended by what she said.

These were the two biggest contributors as to why I kicked her from my server — there were more (usually smaller) things she did that made people uncomfortable or pissed me off, but again, I’m not going to mention everything.

So, I silently kicked her, not wanting to cause too much drama, but also fed up with her behavior. I think I also softblocked her on tumblr, not wanting us to be mutuals or friends anymore but also not seeing a block as necessary (I didn’t mind if she saw my fandom posts in the tag, for example). However, she ended up following me back and sent me an ask asking why she was kicked from the server. I believe I told her “I don’t owe you an explanation, I just didn’t want you there anymore”. I didn’t want to say “you did this, this, and this” and just have her say “I didn’t do that/That wasn’t a big deal” and turn it into an entire argument, you know? I also just didn’t want to talk to her at all. So after answering, I softblocked her again and she sent me a long rant calling me a bitch, to which I simply hardblocked her.

I’m pretty sure I was justified in kicking her from my server, but I’m not sure if I’m justified in not telling her why — I understand being confused and demanding an answer but I also know she’d been told off multiple times — and I still don’t think she’s owed a response. Maybe if we were closer friends, I would have explained why. But I don’t know. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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wonlovie · 9 months

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— LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU.

You were tired. Your boss of three years has been giving you a hard time, and school deadlines are creeping up. All you can think of are the things that need to be done. You need to work more hours. You need to make money to afford school. There is no time for rest because you could be doing something.

or, you're burnt out and all jay wants to do is take care of you.

— starring. boyfriend!jay x burnt-out!reader

— tags. established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, reader has a million things on their plate and doesn't know how to deal with it, depiction of a mild panic attack [crying, difficulty breathing]

— word count. 1.9k

— notes. i'm sorry that this isn't the heeseung fic but today was a rough day and this is pretty much just a vent/projection fic // this is also completely unedited but its currently 12:36am

Eye bags tugged at your skin like weights, urging you to close your eyes for even a moment. Your room was still, the darkness of the night overtaking the space. If your computer monitor didn’t display the time, 11:29 PM, you would have no idea how long you’d been sitting there. The curtains that adorned your window were drawn, the only light source being the small desk lamp Jay had given you for your birthday and your computer’s screen.

Your eyes burned as you typed, a lifeless gaze following the words on the document. Your hands felt ice cold, hours of typing causing your circulation to falter. The stiffness of your fingers made it hard to type, but you pushed on. After all, you couldn’t afford to stop. There was no time.

You were working on an essay that was due the next day. You had foolishly put it off for too long, instead working long hours to make up for the shifts you were missing to attend classes. You’d convinced yourself that you could finish it, that there was enough time, but suddenly there wasn’t.

The document page wasn’t even half full, despite you having been working at it for a few hours now. All you had typed was an admittedly messy intro paragraph and half of the first body paragraph. The cursor blinked, mocking you for your lack of progress. The blank space on the page upset you, angry tears filling your eyes as you clenched your jaw.

Before you could begin typing again, your phone buzzed. A part of you hoped that it was Jay. You weren’t sure if you could handle it being anyone else at this hour. But when you picked it up, to your dismay, it wasn’t Jay. Instead, it was your boss.

“I need you to work tomorrow. Lia called in sick.”

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and exhaustion as you simply typed an okay. You had class tomorrow morning, something that your boss was aware of. You made a note to ask a classmate for the notes.

Looking back at the half-empty document, you felt your chest tighten. Your throat felt uncomfortably dry as you swallowed harshly. Your fingers shook uncontrollably as you rested them on the keyboard in a futile attempt to start again. You had typed two words when someone knocked on your door, making you jump in surprise.

Frowning, you glanced at the time again. 11:42 PM. Before you could even wonder who it was, you heard the front door open. Your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as you presumed it was Jay. After all, he was the only other one who had a key to your apartment.

You listened as he made his way through your house and toward your bedroom door, the sound of him kicking off his shoes and shucking off his jacket unmistakable. The tight feeling in your chest grew, rearing its ugly head at you as it screamed in your ears with a silent cry. The second your bedroom doorknob started turning, you felt like you had been punched in the throat.

Jay stepped into the room with a sleepy smile, his unstyled silver hair falling into his eyes. By his side, he had a convenience store bag filled with what you assumed were snacks. “Hey,” he whispered, not wanting to be too loud so late at night. “You told me you were working on an essay, so I came with snacks!” He grinned at you, holding up the bag proudly.

“I brought your favourite; those chips from when we went to the arcade. You know, it was stupidly hard to find them, and I had to go to like two different stores, but—” Jay stopped in his tracks, his face falling when he looked up from the bag and at you. “Are you crying?”

You blinked dumbly, quickly wiping at your cheeks. The sleeve of your sweater grew wet, surprising you. “I guess I am,” you murmured, voice wet and quivering. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why I’m crying,” your voice cracked, and you choked out a sob that you didn’t know was holed up in your throat.

Jay was quick to drop the bag of snacks and rush over to where you sat, pulling you to your feet and into his arms. While his warmth and comforting touch were usually enough to comfort you, you couldn’t breathe as you felt sob after sob rack your body. He rubbed up and down the small of your back, stepping backwards until the backs of his legs hit your bed.

Slowly, he moved you into a sitting position, never once letting go of you as he sat next to you on the bed. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked in a small voice, his heart breaking at the sight of you like this. He didn’t ask again when you didn’t respond, rocking you back and forth against his chest. He pressed a tender kiss against your forehead when another particularly harsh cry escaped your lips.

You fisted the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it in the process. In your haze, everything felt fuzzy. You couldn’t focus on anything except for the tightness in your chest and the pounding of your heart. You briefly thought back to the essay that sat unfinished at your desk and the text from your employer, the thoughts only making you cry harder.

Loud, heartbreaking weeps left your trembling body, and each second that passed felt worse than the last. Jay’s brows were stuck in a furrowed position, and the corners of his lips tugged into a deep frown. He hated how helpless he felt, having nothing to do except hold you.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that together, with you in his arms, crying your heart out. It might’ve been ten minutes, it might have been an hour or two. It felt like your cries were neverending, but when they did start to slow, his heart was in his stomach. He hated seeing you like this. He knew how often you’d hide your true feelings behind a smile, always assuring him that you were okay, but he knew you better than that.

Once the sobs quieted down and you were left with only shaking breaths and wet eyes, Jay pulled away to see your face. His heart ached for you at the sight of your pain-stricken features and tear-stained cheeks. He pulled his sleeve over his hand to wipe away your tears, although new ones were quick to trail down your irritated and raw skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again, just as gently. “Is it the essay?”

You shrugged, not trusting your voice as you avoided his eyes. He smoothed down your hair, cupping your face in his large hands in a silent plea for you to look at him. “Did something happen at work?” The pained look in your eyes let him know that he was getting closer, and his frown deepened. “Did your boss say something again?”

“Kind of,” you finally spoke, your voice just barely above a whisper. “He asked me to work tomorrow.”

Jay’s eyebrows knitted together. “You have class tomorrow.”

“I’ll have to skip,” you relented, gnawing at your bottom lip in anxiety. You started thinking of how much information you’d be missing, and you know that some of your professors like giving out surprise quizzes, and you could not get a zero for not attending. If you got a zero, if you failed, then what was the point of working so hard?

“Baby,” Jay mumbled, “Why don’t you tell your boss you can’t work?”

You shook your head, the thought of speaking up causing your throat to close. “I… I can’t do that, Jong. My boss always tells us that saying no to him is a sign of our disloyalty, and I’ve seen him fire someone who said no too many times. I can’t… I can’t get fired, I can’t lose this job. I need the money, Jay, I can’t…” You cut yourself off, your voice breaking.

Jay took your hands in his, rubbing the back of them gently with his thumbs. “There are other jobs, love. Other jobs with more understanding employers.”

Once again, you shook your head, fresh tears falling from your red eyes. “No, no, you don’t understand. This job pays really well, and the fact that I got hired in the first place was a fluke. Don’t you remember how hard it was for me to find a job before? How many… how many rejected interviews I’d gotten? I can’t quit.”

“But,” Jay interjected. “You’ve always told me how much stress you have working there. Your boss is unfair to you. He doesn’t give you breaks, and he asks you to come in too much. You’re a student too, love. I barely see you because you’re always either in class or at work. That’s not healthy.”

You looked into his eyes for the first time since he arrived in your room, the sight of his own watering eyes breaking your heart. “I can’t not work, Jong. That’s not an option. I need the money to pay for everything. I need money to pay for my tuition and for my books. And this apartment wasn’t given to me for free—I can’t just stop working, even if I wanted to.”

Jay pursed his lips. “Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded, a subtle jerk of your head that he barely caught.

“You have so much more support than you realize,” he rasped, holding onto your hands tighter as if it’d convey his message better. “Right now, if you were to stop working, you’d still be able to pay for the rest of the school year. You worked so tirelessly through the summer, and I know you have a lot saved up. You could take time off. Your parents could help with paying for school or rent—hell, I could help if you let me.

I know you’re scared and anxious, but please believe me. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you took a break. You need it, baby. Your life isn’t going to fall apart if you don’t have a job for a few months.” He let go of one of your hands to cup your cheek. “I love you so much. Seeing you like this is so painful, and all I want is for you to realize that it’s okay to just… do nothing. It is okay to not work. It’s okay to breathe.”

Your lips trembled, another sob threatening to rip out from your throat at his kind words, words that you didn’t know you needed to hear.

“I know I’m supported,” you whispered, holding the hand that cupped your face. “I know that, which is why I’m so frustrated with myself. I… I feel like if I’m not doing everything by myself and if I’m not working, then all I am is a failure.” You spat out the last few words, new tears filling your waterline.

Jay shook his head, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “This world is harsh, and it pushes people to work beyond their limits. I wish things were different, but I can’t change how society views things.” He nudged his nose against yours, looking into your eyes with a look of what you could only describe as love. He offered you a gentle smile. “But what I can do is help you realize that. I just need you to let me in, yeah? You don’t need to be this stressed alone. I don’t want you to be alone.” He brushed away the wetness that remained on your cheeks before pressing a soft kiss against both cheeks, your nose, and finally, your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured into your skin. “I love you, and you are worth so much more than you realize.”

#wonlovie #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #jay #jay scenarios #jay x reader #jay angst #enhypen angst #park jongseong #park jongseong scenarios #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong angst #jongseong #jongseong x reader #jongseong scenarios #jongseong angst

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writtenontheport · 10 months

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Just a Night at Portland Row

(pt.1) (pt.2)

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Literal romcom, These people are silly, Everyone’s so sillycore here, teary confessions, someone accidentally confesses, nothing dramatic happens he’s just silly, Childhood friends to lovers, Lockwood is kinda stupid (affectionate), no smut or suggestive content, Lockwood and co and reader friendship, whether or not what Lockwood says at the end actually happens is up to you!!

Notes: I have quite a few issues with this one, and I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it’s one of the better ways I could go about it. I also put all the flowers meanings at the bottom, so if you were curious I did in fact plan the flower meanings (I am a nerd). This finale has gone through about 20 revisions on the first day alone, so if anything seems jarringly out of place, I am so sorry 😭 I was all over the place with my ideas.

Summary: Just before supper time, you and Lockwood have a heart to heart, and it starts as it always has: with flowers, with tears, and a little funny thing called love.

word count: 2.4k+

“George,” Lockwood says seriously. It’s the first time George has ever seen him so serious about something that isn’t Lucy or him dying and it shocks him how quick he is to steel himself for whatever it is. “I need you to get Lucy to bring them down here, if you can, please.”

Now, ‘them’ is obviously referring to you, who’s laughing away upstairs with Lucy so loud they can hear it ring through the vents. If this wasn’t something George has genuinely been excited for, he would have smacked Lockwood upside the head for using that terrifying tone. “Don’t say it like that, prick. Thought someone was dying there.”

Lockwood grins at him from where he’s messing with the bouquet stood up on the table. The paper wrapping hasn’t been removed, courtesy of the empty vase and that water would most likely melt it; ribbon still intact. They stand, not quite fully in bloom (which is the best way to buy flowers, because otherwise they wilt right away) but just on the precipice of it. It’s packed with other, smaller additions, but at the heart of it, well. Maybe Lockwood did know something about the language of flowers.

“How’d you even pick them out?” George asks instead, watching Lockwood’s grin wobble.

“I made friends with the shopkeeper. He wouldn’t tell me what any of them meant, but he said they were good flowers— like the carnations. One of them though… these white ones here, just felt familiar somehow.” He kept messing about with the bouquet, meddling with any loose leaf or bud. “Can you please go get them? I want them to be able to see the flowers before they wilt.”

George does swat Lockwood for that, but he goes upstairs to get you. You and Lucy have moved to her room on George’s urging (he made Lockwood wait outside before coming in to make sure you didn’t know) and were lying in her bed on your stomachs, reading and sharing books. Lucy’s the first to look up at him, raising a brow as she nudges you.

“George? Everything ok?” You ask, propping yourself up to sit criss cross on the mattress. “Has Anthony come back yet?”

“He has,” he says simply, “He says he needs you in the kitchen. Lucy should stay since she must be tired from the case yesterday.”

From behind you, Lucy has a moment of realization that has her tucking her lips to hide a smile. Quietly, she puts a hand up to her forehead in a salute to George.

“You should go check,” she says, “Who knows what kind of trouble he might be in.”

“A lot of trouble,” George adds, nodding slightly along. You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but you get up off the bed.

“I’ll save your place!” She calls just as you’re headed down. George walks 2 steps behind you to hide his expression before he can school it, feeling giddy with nerves that aren’t even his to have. He wonders how Lockwood’s doing, stopping just at his bedroom door.

You turn back, asking “You aren’t coming?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He rocks gently on his feet and pulls his hands behind his back, reassuring you with a calm nod. “Off you go, Lockwood’s probably burnt himself making tea by now or something.”

“I’d hope not…” you mumble, each step down like a crescendo in the world’s most suspenseful piece of music— every floorboard creak like the lead instrument and your heartbeat acting a steady base. On a sheet you’re sure it looks hideous, but it levels out when you open the door and Lockwood’s waiting there by the counter, looking like he’s straight off a magazine. The silence creeps in, but the piece rises to new heights as the sound of everything— the floorboards, the vents— suddenly dulls out.

You step into the kitchen, and let the door shut behind you.

There is your Anthony, standing there in the middle of the kitchen with a bouquet full of dazzling pink tulips, red roses, and spots of white jasmine flowers. There is Anthony, the boy you’ve known and loved for years— looking at you like he always does: like you’re the whole world and sky and everything he wakes up for.

Neither of you speak for a good minute, but it’s not without trying. Lockwood spends that pregnant pause fumbling for words, before—

“I love you,” He says.

The words come rushing out his lips, hurried and desperate. It shocks you how simply he puts it, like a sudden rest in the notes that takes you by surprise. He looks surprised too; horrified, really, that he’s just blurted that out. He swallows thickly, steeling his expression into something determined.

“I—“ you pause, the words caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears. You think you tear up, but you can’t really tell when the whole world narrows down to Anthony Lockwood across from you in the kitchen of Portland Row, professing his love in the spur of the moment. You grow warm with affection, taking a step closer to him as the music of your singing heart drowns out everything but his words.

He takes a deep breath, his face pale with fear as he swallows and says quietly,, “Today, when I went down to the shops to get you these flowers, I met the really old man tending to them. Don’t look at me like that, he was really old, alright?”

“Anthony,” you scold quietly, tutting at him as you wrap your hands around his.

He bites the inside of his cheek before he keeps going. “Anyways he isn’t the point— I brought him up because he made me realise that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I never gave telling you a shot. He lived loving someone else until they died— even after they did, and if… if there was a chance I could have that with you, I wanted to take it. I can’t promise you that I’ll be alive for as long as you will be, but I can promise you that I will love you for everyday I live and breathe if you let me.”

“Anthony,” you start, breathlessly. You take his face in your hands and he puts the bouquet down to cover your hands with his. He looks so scared like this, fragile like glass in your hands and pale with nerves.

“I can’t promise you forever,” He says solemnly, “But I can promise you my heart for as long as it beats.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, and will yourself not to kiss him. Years down to minutes— minutes to seconds. The silence hangs like a winding note. You glance back quickly at the bouquet, picking out one of the jasmine flowers before sliding it behind his ear and resting your hands on his face.

“Do you remember the first flower I gave you?” You ask just as quietly. He shakes his head, cheeks rubbing against the skin of your palms. “We were… quite young at the time, and I must have been mad, because I stole it from the neighbour’s garden. Yes, the grumpy one, you remember her. Well, I ran straight over from all the way from home with this crumpled little thing in hand— stop giggling. I’m telling you an important story— and you lit up like a light. Cheeky little thing you were, finding a way to give it back to me when I got scolded the same day for stealing and I was awful sore about the whole thing.”

“You looked all sad,” He cut in, voice hoarse in a mumble, “It made me happy, so I wanted it to make you happy too.”

You laugh, just as breathless, “And it worked, Anthony. It’s still one of my favourite flowers. Did you know that? They were the first flowers I read up on when I learned flowers could have meanings.”

“What’d you find?” He asks, the nerves fading into a hopefulness that fills his eyes with stars. It’s helplessly endearing where you see them shine, nearly nose to nose with how close you’re holding him.

You hum and close your eyes, pushing your forehead against his. “We gave each other white jasmine flowers, that day. A lot of people say they mean purity or innocence, but the one that stuck out to me was that people say it meant “everlasting love” too. When I look back on it now, it must’ve been fate.”

“Cause I always loved you and you probably realised that with how stupid I get about you?”He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

You chuckle quietly, just as helplessly lost, “Not quite. I didn’t even think there was a chance you could love me back, though that does make everything a bit easier… because I’ve always loved you, Anthony.”

Like a child on Christmas day, Lockwood’s eyes grow wide; he’s helpless to the grin that splits his face. “Really?”

“I’m no liar, Anthony, and certainly not about this,” you laugh, unable to help yourself as you tip back and rest your nose lightly against his.

“No like— you mean it?” He asks, voice cracking with hope as he searches your face, “You love me? You love me?”

You’re helplessly endeared, helplessly in love and helplessly lost to it, so you just whisper back with a grin as wide, “Yes, Anthony. I love you.”

What little space between you both is gone in a second when he pushes his lips against yours. It’s a desperate thing, all relief and comfort and love pouring out. At some point, you’re both smiling too wide and too much for it to be anything more than just pushing your lips against each other’s and you pull away with a wet laugh.

He grins wider, and you didn’t think it was possible but he manages it. “I’m so glad, because if I had to go back to the shopkeeper with a terrible story about how I got rejected by the love of my life—“

You giggle and swat at his arm, wrapping your arms around him, “Of course that’s what you worry about. This is all a publicity stunt, yeah? To boost your ego.”

“Of course,” he says, with no weight to the words as he sniffs and blinks away the last of his tears, “Though that just means we should make it a bigger stunt and get married. I’ll even invite Kipps just to rub it in his face.”

You hum, helplessly amused, when the door slams open and George shamelessly walks in with at first his usual deadpan, then a pleased expression. From behind George, Lucy is brimming with happiness, smiling cheek to cheek.

“Gross,” George says, simply and without malice. He steps around you and Lockwood, patting you both on the back sincerely and pulling out pots and pans. It occurs to you a little late that he’s starting on supper. “Took you both a while to actually confess. Mental, the two of you.”

“It was cute,” Lucy says kindly, taking you from Lockwood (he does pout lightly, but she just sticks her tongue out at him) hugging you dear. “George just means that we’re both very happy you two finally got together. He was starting to go bald actually from pulling his hair out too much, look at his hairline—“

“You can’t even pretend like you weren’t too, Lucy.” George sends her a glare as she separates from you. Lockwood quickly fills the space at your side again and all but wraps himself around you. Lucy pats him on the back with a congratulatory smile.

“You can’t go bald before my wedding, George, that’d just ruin it,” you say, clicking your tongue as you reach over (not without struggling over Lockwood) and pat his curls into place. The pot nearly slips out of his hands while Lucy’s eyes grow big as saucers.

“Wedding?!?” They ask simultaneously. Lockwood giggles into your neck, the cheeky bastard.

“This one here,” you gesture at Lockwood with a look, “said we should get married since this whole thing is a publicity stunt or whatnot. Said he might even invite that Kipps bloke he hates.”

“That is the lamest proposal I have ever heard,” Lucy immediately cuts in, the most disappointed scowl pointed at Lockwood’s head.

“I’ve got to agree. You could absolutely do better than that, Lockwood. Also, Quill Kipps? Do you want to have start a fight at your wedding?” George asks, his back turned to everyone. You pull away from Lockwood to pick up the flowers, but not without him frowning as you do. He stops frowning as soon as you smile at him, though, before he turns his attention to Lucy and George when they both pretend to gag.

“I gave them flowers, a really sentimental bunch I think, then I had a good speech,” He says to Lucy first, who raises a brow at him.

He turns to George next. “I need to rub it in his face that he’s probably miserable and forever alone.”

“I thought it was gonna be a publicity stunt, not a revenge plot,” You mutter, clicking your tongue.

“I’m not letting you have a lame wedding, Lockwood, because that means they—“ she points to you “— will have a lame wedding and I will not let that happen.”

“But you’d let me have a lame wedding if it was just mine?” His face is scrunched in offence as he ‘discreetly’ wraps himself around you again.

“Yes,” Lucy and George say simultaneously.

“I’d marry you at a lame wedding.” You play with his hair where you can reach it, pressing a kiss to his forehead where he’s dumped it again on your shoulder. Lucy and George gag, Lockwood beams so bright you’d think he won the lottery that night.

They manage to convince you that it’s too dark out to leave (it was past curfew, the sun had set already) so you spend the night recounting everything you can with them until the stars had gone to sleep and the sun started rising.

The next day, he brings down the bouquet of carnations you’d first given him, and you mix both the bouquets into one. A year later, Portland Row becomes home to not only to the people living in it, but a garden full of flowers blooming with love, laughter, and a lot of hard work. White Jasmine flowers bloom on the veranda and a house of three becomes home to four.

A/N: Finally finished this series!! Whew, that was… hmm!! And just because I couldn’t add it to the story without it getting clunky, have these idk, headcanons? fun facts?:

Reader tells Lockwood all about the flowers after, and informs him about why the Jasmine flowers were so familiar

The grumpy neighbour reader stole the white jasmine flowers from was actually the old man gardener’s wife

Lockwood goes back to tell the old man, and they have a laugh about the whole thing

It is so hard to get one straight meaning for a flower, but if you dig enough you can find flowers that mean so many cute things:

Red carnations mean deep love and affection

Pink tulips mean caring and affection

White Jasmine flowers can mean many things but for this story I went with: Eternal love, persevering love, and new beginnings

Everyone knows red roses, but I also like to think Lockwood’s bouquet had thornless red roses because they mean love at first sight

Yes he one upped the reader even without knowing what all the flowers mean because he’s a competitive little freak (affectionate) and I love him

This series has been very dear to me, and I am especially thankful to @tangledinlove <3 Thank you for your kind reblogs, I hope you know I read them and always look forward to seeing how you find each part in the series even if I don’t respond to them <33333

Also @milesmorals asked me to tag her too!!

#portie writes fanfic #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

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sketch-mer-6195 · 8 months

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Scare Tactic (Earthspark Megatron x gn!Reader)

My very first gender neutral reader for all who love this handsome mech! It is a bit of a shorty but, I'm glad how it ended up! Word Count: 666 (by the allspark we're doomed) Warnings: Fluff, sfw, lots of cybertroninan anatomy terms...if that's a warning?

Anywhizzlepop, enjoy the funny!

You think that you're so funny, right? Scaring the former Warlord and Leader of the Decepticon's half to death and making him think he actually squished you beneath his peds.

Well it was kinda funny for a moment.

You had Dottie take you to Ghost Headquarters as you had several close calls with Decepticon's since your move to Witwicky. In reality, you wanted to see Megs and catch up a little bit since he had been swamped thanks to Agent Croft. So, when you got the opportunity to find him in the halls reading over a communication pad. It was just perfect. Hiding behind the large pillar that supported the walls, you waited till he got close to where you were until you let out the most Energon curdling screech you could muster.

Poor Megatron jumped a good 12 feet in the air hearing your scream. He knew it was you. His spark about ready to go into supernova if he knew he was the one who actually hurt you.

But as he began to think of what you were going to look like under his ped, the sound of your laughter was soon replaced. Making the titan raise a brow in utter confusion, he looked down to see you rolling on the floor and clutching your midsection because of your laughter. Your feet kicking in the air as tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes as your laughter continued. Megatron was deeply relieved that you were perfectly fine and let out a heavy ex-vent he had no idea he was holding. But what was once relief in his ruby optics were soon replaced with slight annoyance with a hint of mirth.

"(Y/N)! What in the Allspark do you think you're doing? Deceiving me into thinking I severely harmed you." He lectured you.

As your laughing fit soon fizzled to giggles, you sat up and wiped your eyes and cheeks. Looking up at your beloved 'Con, you knew you weren't going to get out of this so easily.

"I'm sorry, Megs. But… it was just too easy to not pass up the opportunity!" You explained as you stood and brushed off the dust on your pants.

With a slight glare, Megatron offered you his servo to which you happily accepted and perched yourself into his palm. With his thumb securing you around your waist, he lifted you to his chassis only to see Elita-one and Optimus running down the hall.

"What's wrong!" Elita exclaimed.

"We heard someone in distress! We came as fast as we could." Optimus said before laying optics to see the only culprit.

“Apologies, old friend. (Y/N) here came to visit and surprised me.” Megatron replied as he carefully lifted you to his shoulder plating. “Come to think of it, I was thinking of showing them my latest simulation.”

Turning on his struts, Megatron had a smirk on his own dermas to which Prime had no intention of figuring out what his plan was. You on the other hand were not planning on what was about to happen next. In the training simulation room, Megatron activated the system with a simple command where a pillar formed and rose to his eye level before plucking you off his shoulder.

“Ah! Hey!”

“This will teach you not to scare me.” And with a simple wave of his servo, the pillar rose an extra 15 feet into the air with Megatron chuckling.

“Megatronus! Put me down this instance!” You ranted only to hear your lover chuckle and soon begin to full blow tanks-laugh.

Again, it was funny. And in the end, it was worth it. Even if you scared the Spark out of him. He forgot about work, laughing and relaxing with you. Which you ended up laughing and him bringing you back to his level so you two could have a little stroll through the halls and talk about each other's day.

Now… what’s next to get your ‘Con lover?

Tagging: @robot-horde @mysticboombox @nilawii

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #tfes megatron #megatron #earthspark megatron

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have-you-seen-my-sanity · 2 months

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Thrill of the hunt

Steve Raglan/William Afton x fem!reader

Quick summary: You stumbled inside the famous Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria after playing truth or dare. Turns out you were not alone in there.

Dead dove do not eat - you'll get exactly what's in the tags!

Tags: William Afton is a warning himself, oral fem! receiving, PinV, kind of soft dom William, knife play, smut, 18+.

It all started with a fun round of truth or dare. You picked dare because you didn't thought your friends were so serious about you entering the seemingly abandoned Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria. When they finally gave you the dare to enter, you immediately regretted choosing dare.

You entered the Pizzaria through a vent on the backside, the front entrance has been locked with a chain, but luckily the vent was big enough for you to fit. The last thing you wanted was being stuck in the vent at this creepy place. After reaching the end of the vent, you carefully removed the little protection grid, crawling out and pulling your phone out for light. It looked like you were in a small area near the main area, so you looked around and searched for a way towards the dining area. On your way you stumbled upon newsletter, most of them were about the five missing kids and some about the two owners William Afton and Henry Emily. The entire time you walked you felt nervous, despite knowing the Animatronics here are only robots you still felt like you were not alone.

You arrived at the main dining area, it was covered in dust, everything was thrown around and evidence of some broke ins were visible, but you kept your eyes open for the entrance, eager to leave this place. But just as you were about to leave the dining area, a loud noise made you jump and turn towards the noise - it was a rat jumping out of a nearby shelf. "Fucking rat." you cursed, trying to calm your racing heart. You looked around one last time before your eyes landed on a hallway and you saw something yellow standing there, it was an animatronic, but it's eyes were glowing. "Hello?" you called out carefully "I swear if this is a prank..."

You took a closer look at the Animatronic, it looked like a rabbit with a chipped off ear. As you stepped closer you realized the size of that thing, it was huge!

Suddenly a cruel, mechanical laughter emitted from that thing as it started moving towards you. You instantly backed off against a wall, clenching your hands into fists for defense. "What are you doing here?" the yellow rabbit spoke as it stalked slowly towards you.

"I'm sorry! My friends and I were playing truth or dare and they dared me to sneak in here. I will leave immediately if you want!" You begged, your back pressing against the wall behind you.

The rabbit stopped and tilted it's head "Truth or dare?" it asked. You nodded "Yes. I-I will leave, please I'm so sorry!"

"Truth or dare." The rabbit spoke again, it's tone making it clear it was a demand.

"Dare?..." you answered, knowing a truth would most likely only lead to spending more time in this place. The rabbit reached behind and pulled something out - a kitchen knife, the flashlight on your phone reflected on the sharp blade.

"RUN!" It charged towards you. Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as you dashed out of the way and ran into the hallway behind it. You reached a door and opened it, revealing a small supply room. Looking back, you had no other option than to hide inside this small room. You quickly made use of the boxes, getting into a corner and stacking them infront of you, placing the last one ontop of you and balancing it with your hands.

"Come out you little brat. Where aaaaree youuu?" The rabbit almost sing-sang, it's heavy steps vibrating against the walls.

The steps stopped infront of the door to the room you're in. "Are you in there?" the door creaked open as it peeked inside. You held your breath and clamped a hand over your mouth. You could hear that thing move around, searching through the room for you. Suddenly you heard the yellow rabbit growl and it's steps were closing in on your hiding spot rapidly. Next came a big hand grabbing the box ontop of you to reveal you hidden behind the stack of boxes, the rabbit kicked all the other boxes out of the way and swiftly grabbing you by the neck, lifting you up.

"Found you." you could hear the happiness in it's voice. You struggled to wiggle out of the grip, but it was vice-like. "Please let me go. I already told you I'm sorry. If you let me leave you will never see me again, I promise." you begged, but the rabbit pulled you closer to it's face.

"What do you have to offer if I should let you walk out of here in one piece?" It asked, but since you're so close to it's face, you could feel breath hitting your face. Was there someone inside that suit?

"A-anything you want." You struggled to breath. To your surprise it loosened its grip around your neck and leaned in

"Anything I want, hmm?" It chuckled before it walked out of the room and towards the security office, still lifting you by your neck. Once arrived, it let you down on the table, making you sit down on it. The rabbit stepped back and slowly removed it's mask, there indeed was someone inside, a man with short greying hair and a van dyke beard.

"Stay put. I'll be back, but if you move I will cut you into pieces." The man threatened, pulling out the kitchen knife and pointing it at you to make his point. You nodded as the man walked out of the office. After waiting a couple of minutes, the man returned, but without the suit and wearing a yellow coverall. The man was indeed a giant.

"Turn around and bend over the table." He ordered. You did as he asked, not questioning and bending over the table. "Good girl." He praised and you could hear a zipper being pulled down and heavy steps closing in on you.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, still scared that this man will kill you. He chuckled in response and suddenly you could feel the tip of his kitchen knife on the back of your neck and slowly trailing down your spine, stopping at the hem of your pants as you squirmed at feeling the sharp metal scraping through your shirt.

"You said you'd do anything I want if that meant you getting out of here alive. If you fight me I will slit your pretty little throat open, do we understand eachother?" He threatened. "Yes." you whimpered, getting mentally prepared for whatever this man wanted to do with you.

"My name's William Afton. Maybe you've already heard of me." He said, resting the knife on the table beside you. The next thing you felt were his hands undoing your pants and pulling them off along with your panties, throwing them into a corner. "I'll have my fun with your body, sweetheart." William knelt down behind you, spreading your cheeks, exposing your already wet hole to him.

"Looks like you already know what's coming, hmm?" Without another word, he leaned in, lifting your ass up and latching onto your pussy, swirling his tongue around your hole and sucking. You let out a loud moan, arching your back in response to the sudden pleasure washing over you. William teased your cunt with the tip of his tongue before thrusting it in gently, swirling around inside you and his beard tickling your skin. William's tongue was long, which made you wetter as you felt him licking your cunt clean from inside.

"Oh god." You gasped as you felt your wetness getting slurped up by William. He groaned around you, thrusting his tongue in and out of you, making your eyes rolling back in your head, your moans getting louder and more frequently. But the moment didn't last long before William pulled his tongue back and standing up. "You taste sweet." He hummed, "let's see if you feel as good as you taste."

You felt the tip of his cock pressing against your cunt, he was big, you could already tell by the feeling of his thick cockhead slowly entering you. You gasped, making him stop midway to let you adjust to his size and then push inside you fully. "Shit, you're so fucking tight, you're squeezing my cock." William rasped as he slowly started to move. You started to mewl, feeling his big cock stretching you out but enjoying the sensation. "Feels good, huh?" William asked, increasing his pace and hitting all the sweetspots inside you.

You couldn't think straight, the only thing on your mind was getting fucked by a potential sadistic serial killer, but you couldn't deny how good it felt. Your pussy soon tightened around him, signalizing your orgasm "That's it, you're gonna cum for me, huh? You're a nasty little thing, getting fucked by a killer and enjoying it." William chuckled and increased his pace even more, his hips slapping against your ass.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you see stars as you gushed around his cock. William came seconds after you, filling you up with his cum. He held himself inside you, you could feel his cock soften inside of you as the two of you calmed down. After that William pulled out, letting his cum drip onto the ground.

"You were such a good fuck. Clean yourself up and get out of here." He squeezed your ass and zipped his coverall back up and left the office to retrieve his suit.

You pulled out tissue from the pocket of your pants and cleaned up and get dressed back into your clothes before making your way towards the vent you entered the building. After crawling out, the cool night breeze hit you, calming down your nerves. You took a deep breath, being grateful for getting out of this place alive.

#matthew lillard!william afton #william afton #steve raglan #fnaf movie #fnaf

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 11 months

Text

The Sauna Test

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 4.1K

warnings: a little sexual, cursing, byers getting pissed off each second. should be all!

summary: theres a vent blocking your entrance. free ice cream should help.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story-

yall... im so sorry for the tension that will be growing from byers. shes stressed leave her be! im just using her as a voice of reason.

@alecmores❤️

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter next chapter

You and the boys all fell asleep. Will was held in your arms and the little assholes slept in his room since you felt bad they would have to ride home in the rain. You weren’t able to sleep for a while after Will said he was back, and you know who he meant. You kept your arms tight around his shaking body through the night until you couldn’t push away the heaviness of your lids.

The brightness of your room pulled you from the few hours of sleep you could acquire. While rubbing a fist into your eyes as you stretched, you slowly came to life and realized Will wasn’t beside you. Immediately alert you hopped out of bed and rushed to his room, no one. The kitchen was next and still, no one. And not a peep from the living room.

Fingers started to curl into your bedhead as you walked back towards the kitchen and noticed a folded paper sitting on the wooden table. Bare feet on the cool flooring, you carried yourself closer and grabbed the paper, a note in messy handwriting.

‘went to the pool with mike and lucas. i’ll be safe.’

Your free hand sat over your palm as you closed your eyes and took steady breaths. Will is safe. The boys are safe. Everyone is okay.

You kept repeating these like a mantra that would come true if you said it enough times over and over like a wish.

The opening and closing of a door stopped your thoughts and you turned on your heel to see Steve walking towards you. He was dressed in his school gym shorts with a shirt almost classified to be a crop top. His biceps were tight against the seams and his body hair was dark against his skin which was gaining a golden glow from the hot summer sun.

Your heart started beating fast once again.

“Hey, you okay?” His hands grasp your upper arms as his eyes look over your body. All you could do was nod at the moment. Steve pulled you into a hug and you wrapped your cement-heavy limbs around his fabric-free waist.

You could feel the kisses he planted on your rain-soaked hair from the night before, and it pulled an idea from you. Pulling away enough so you could set your chin against his chest, you peered up with a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes.

“What?” A smirk was forming on Steve’s lips, knowing that look all too well.

Pushing to the tips of your toes, jutting your face closer. Giving your lips just an inch of space as you whispered, “Wanna take a shower with me?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Steve swept you off your feet, threw you over his shoulder, and rushed the both of you towards the tiny space. You let carefree giggles spill and Will’s note hit the ground, forgotten.

“That keycard opens the door, but unfortunately, the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun. Whatever’s in this room, whatever’s in those boxes, they don’t want anybody finding it.”

Dustin paced back and forth as he reported what he found earlier this morning. You, Robin, and Steve all sat at the small table in the backroom. Robin playing with an ice cream scooper with Steve leaning back in his chair and twirling his hair around his fist. You had your arms crossed as they sat on the table, you just listened to this absurdity.

“So… even with the mention of this giant Russian and giant gun, you still want to find a way inside that room?” Head cocked to the side with a furrow to your brows.

The three of them got quiet at your question. And not the ‘Maybe (Y/n)’s right. This is a bad idea. No, it was a- “But there’s gotta be a way in.” Robin spoke up, answering the quiet.

Steve blew into his hat and threw it down, “Well, you know. I could just take him out.” He leaned forward. You had to withhold the smack to his head.“Take who out?” Robin teased him. “The Russian guard.”

You smacked him upside the head. Steve winched at the impact and held the back of his head, “What? I sneak up behind him. I knock him out and take his keycard. It’s easy.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin reiterated. Steve stared him down, “Yes, Dustin. I did. And that’s why I would be sneaking.” He did a dumb walking gesture with his fingers. You ran your hands down your face.

“Well, please. Tell me this and be honest, have you ever actually… won a fight?” Dustin and Robin waited for the answer. Steve turned to you for a second and you already knew what it would be.Steve rolled his eyes, “Okay, that was one time-”

“Twice. Jonathan. The year prior?” Dustin interrupted.“How do you know about that?” None of the kids were there. Dustin ignored you and Steve continued, “Listen, that doesn’t count.”

Dustin looked amused, “Why wouldn’t it? Because it looked like he beat the shit out of you.”

“That’s true.” “Hey-” “You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye, a lot of blood…” Steve scoffed. “Could’ve been from the demo-”

Robin’s chair scraped the floor and she said, “That just might work.” Stopped Dustin and Steve’s bickering.

Robin darted from the backroom with her backpack and headed to the counter just to steal all the tips.

“Robin!” “Hey, Robin!” Both you and Steve called her. “Hey, what- what are you doing?” Steve tumbled through the door, you and Dustin just behind.

“I need cash.” She stated plainly. “Well, a quarter of that’s yours. Where are you going?” Shoulders slumping due to your friend stealing your hard-earned money.

“To find a way into that room, a safe way. So in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff.” And Robin darted off leaving the three of you behind the counter.

You hung your head as you leaned against the ice cream bar, blocking out the noise of Steve chiding Dustin over something. You had a terrible night and then an okay morning which then changed into a fantastic one. And the time spent until work was just as great with just the two of you in the empty house. The ride over was pleasant and the first hour of your shift was moving swiftly and then once Dustin came in talking about the Russians… it all came crashing down again.

“Baby,” Steve turned your face with the two fingers on your chin, “Come with me real quick.” And you almost laughed due to the innuendo your mind thought of. But you followed behind Steve, making sure that Dustin sat in the eating area.

Steve pulled you deep into the backroom, a little corner where you weren’t seen. And you were about to ask him what he was up to, but his lips pressing into yours stopped you quickly. Immediately, you indulge in the pleasure that always blocks everything out. Arms slid up and around his neck to keep Steve close as he pressed you to his chest. Digits twined dark brown strands around your fingers and gave light tugs that caused Steve to groan into your mouth and you just grinned at the melody. Soon, Steve’s lips left your lips and traveled to your neck and you sighed as you leaned it back and to the side for more room.

The dining of the front bell stopped the scene for you, but it seemed Steve didn’t care as he continued to nip at your pulse.

“Stevie…” Another ding, “Stevie… I gotta- I gotta go.” Another ding.

With Steve not letting up and your fingers still in his hair, you tugged harder than usual. His head leaned back and he wore a devilish smirk, “Oh… you like that don’t you?” You whispered as you gave a kiss on his Adam’s apple and left him to attend to the annoyed customer.

“Where the hell have you been? It’s been over an hour!”

Robin waved away your concern as she headed to the backroom where Steve and Dustin were already hanging out during his fifteen.

Seeing as the store was empty, you followed just a few steps behind your friend and watched as she pulled a rolled-up paper from her backpack. She pushed the boy's shoes away and spread what appeared to be blueprints for all your eyes to see.

“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s office.” She smiled at the three of you. You were just confused about why she needed blueprints.

“Starcourt Mall. The complete blueprints.” “Not bad,” Dustin noted.

Robin pointed a polished nail and you leaned forward. “So, this is us, Scoops. And this is where we want to get.” Index finger moving to the top of the paper, a random square room.

Steve shook his head, “I mean, I don’t see a way in.”

“There’s not if you’re talking exclusively about doors.” She pulled the top layer away and revealed a more detailed second page. “Air ducts,” Dustin voiced. “Exactly.” Robin walked over to the whiteboard and took the red marker. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room. And these air ducts lead all the way…” She circled the room and dragged the marker through the air ducts down to where Scoops was located. “Here.” Big circle around Scoops.

All eyes turned to the only air duct in the room. “Steve, why don’t you get the ladder and I’ll grab a screwdriver.” Giving your boyfriend a shoulder pat then disappearing to where you think the small toolbox is hidden. You came back after about five minutes with Steve standing at the top of the stool and a hand to the wall.

You passed the driver into his waiting hand, “Thank you, baby.” And Steve proceeded to work the screws out of the vent cover. He gave the tool back and pulled the cover off, “Flashlight.” Open palm up and Dustin set his bulky light into Steve’s palm. “Thank you.”

The yellow glow illuminated the silver of the metal lining. “Yeah, I don’t know, man. I don’t know if you can fit in here. It’s, like… super tight.” You weren’t even looking into the vent and you could tell, it was too small for a growing Dustin.

“I’ll fit. Trust me. No collar bones, remember?” Taking his flashlight back as he and Steve switch spots.

“Uh, excuse me?” Robin was taken aback. Steve hopped from the last step, “Oh, he’s, uh… Yeah, he’s got some disease. Chry, uh… It’s chrydo, um… Something. Yeah, I dunno.”

“He’s missing bones and stuff,” You simplified Steve’s stuttering for Robin. “Yeah. He can bend like Gumbo.”

You tilted your head at that. “You mean Gumby.” Robin corrected Steve. “I’m pretty sure it’s Gumbo.”

“Steve, just shut up and push me!” “Okay.” You and Robin lean against the counter and watch the two idiots. Steve put his hands on Dustin’s feet, his legs were pushed up and bent. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass.” “What?”

You couldn’t help the snort that pushed out your nose at their bickering. “Touch my butt! I don’t care!” Steve looked back at you and Robin, but the both of you just smiled and shrugged your shoulders. He sighed and reluctantly pushed his palms onto Dustin’s butt.

“Come on! Harder! Push harder!” “I’m pushing!” You hope no one could hear what was happening if there were customers.

Steve threw Dustin’s legs over one shoulder for a better angle. “You’re playing with my legs.” “I’m not playing, I have terrible footing.” Steve pushed at Dustin’s butt again.

Robin just shook her head in disappointment. “You put up with these two?” Head turned to the side, facing you. Your eyes were still trained on the two boys, Steve still shoving at Dustin’s butt as they yelled at each other. “Yep.” Popping the p. “But I also deal with five other kids, my brother, you, and Eddie. So I feel like I’m used to the chaos they cause.”

Steve shoved Dustin hard into the vent and you winched at the noise it caused. But Dustin insisted that he could fit, so they kept yelling and shoving. “One more time.” You heard Dustin.

You didn’t notice it at first, but then it happened again and again. Louder each time followed by a shout. Robin turned around first and then you did, eyes narrowing at the childish face you so wish to ban.

“Ahoy, sailors! All hands on deck! Ahoy!” Erica yelled as she continued to ding the front bell. “Come on. Get over here and serve me some samples.”

The eye roll came naturally as you turned away from Erica and braced yourself to shut her down with customer kindness. But a hand on your bicep stopped you from walking away and you turned to Robin with a confused look. “What? Do you want to serve, her Highness?” Teasing was evident in your words, but it stopped when you saw the spark in Robin’s eyes that you didn’t like.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”She didn’t listen, “Hey, Erica. Can you come back here for a second?” You groaned, “Robin, that wording isn’t very work friendly.”

The back door swung open as Erica waltzed through like she owned the place. Her hands fell to her hips like she was bored already, “What do you need from me?”

Steve pulled Dustin out of the vent and they moved to the counter beside you and Robin with a defeated sigh. “Couldn’t fit,” Dustin muttered. “No shit, dipstick.” Steve countered.

Robin pointed at the vent, “Can you see if you would be able to fit in that vent?”

“Why?”

“Well tell you the reasoning after you’ve taken a look.” Dustin is very protective of his mission.

Erica looked at the four of you before shrugging and grabbing the flashlight from Dustin. She climbed the ladder slowly and then leaned forward to get a better view. She hummed after a minute and climbed down.

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asked.

“Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin posed the question in her laid-back manner. Steve turned to look at you with his arms crossed over his chest. You sent a side-eye before zeroing back to Erica. She laughed at Robin’s question, “I don’t have phobias.”

A huff from Steve, “Okay, well, what’s the problem?” And you already had a feeling what Erica was implying.

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.” There it was. And you knew exactly what her price was gonna be for her to help.

The nautical sailor music filled the parlor.

Five of you squished into a corner booth. Dustin and Robin are to the left of Erica with you to her right. Steve would join you just as he finished making the banana split she ordered. One of the many ice cream treats she requested and you made much to your annoyance.Steve sits beside you and slides the sundae over the table. Erica studies it for a second before nudging it forward. “More fudge, please. Go on.” Flicking her hand in her bossy manner. Steve turned his head your way, mouth firmly pressed and you could tell he was holding back choice words for the children present. Your hand fell to his thigh to give a reassuring squeeze before he reluctantly took the treat and headed back to the counter.

“All right.” Robin pulled the blueprint to point at her red markings, “You see this? This is the route you’re gonna take.” She flipped it to the other side, “Then we just wait till the last delivery goes out tonight.” You turned to Erica as she spooned at her shake while Robin continued to talk. “Then you knock out the grate, jump down, and open the door.”

“Then you find out what’s in those boxes?” Erica butted in. “Exactly,” Robin confirmed.

“Mm-hmm. And you say this guard is armed.” Her eyes look between the three of you.

Dustin added, “Yes, but he won’t be there.”

“And booby traps?” “Booby traps?” You couldn’t help but parrot her question. She looked exasperated by having to explain, “Lasers, spikes in the wall?”

“This isn’t Indiana Jones. These are shitty Russians working out of a mall.” Getting a bit agitated as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the vinyl seats.

She rolled her eyes and looked at Dustin. “You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me? Child endangerment.”

“And I agree, but no one cares,” You couldn’t help but mumble under your breath.

Robin shot you a look then reassured Erica, “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time-“ “Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waggled her finger in her face, “Child endangerment!” Emphasizing each syllable.

Robin groaned and Dustin gave his try. “Erica? Hi. Uh… We think the Russians want to do harm to our country. Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”

She huffed, “You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” Then took a sip of her shake, loud slurping noises. You and Dustin both took a minute to digest her words. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, oddly that’s, uh, that’s true.”

You looked over at the counter to see Steve busy with customers that come into the store. His charming smile as he made light conversation with the younger kid leaning against the glass divider. His hat was still off his head allowing for his front pieces to curl towards his forehead, his best asset he always argued. As he cashed the kid out and they walked away, his eyes landed on you. A simple smile lightened your face as you sent a wave at him. He held up the banana split as he walked behind the counter.

“You know what I love about this country? Capitalism.”

Brows twitched in confusion as you turned to look at Erica who was looking at Dustin. “Do you know what capitalism is?” You wonder how she knows. Dustin replies, “Yeah.”

You and Robin also say yes, but Erica still explains. “It means this is a free market system. Which means people get paid for their services, depending on how valuable their contributions are. And it seems to me, my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all.”

Her face was smug knowing she was in the right. “So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. And I’m talking about free ice cream for life.”

She popped a cherry in her mouth and ate it as she, Dustin, and Robin all looked your way. Since you were assistant manager your word is law, not really, but it would hold more coming from you. The pouting and silent pleading from the two of them wasn’t doing much for you, you were completely fine not giving into Erica’s demands. But their faces changed and when you felt the seat dip you knew Steve joined your group and if you were to turn your head, his puppy dog eyes would stare down into your soul. God, he was your ultimate weakness and right now you hated him for it.

Begrudgingly as you squeezed your eyes shut while giving your face a scrunch, “Fine. Erica Sinclair has free ice cream… for life.”

The mall was closed, the sun was set, and you were camping on the roof waiting for Erica to climb through the vent system to enter a Russian room.Oh goodie.Robin clicked the button on the side of Dustin’s radio, “Erica, do you copy?”

“Mm-hmm. I copy. You nerds in position or what?”

“Yeah. We’re in position. It’s all quiet here, so you've got the green light.” Robin with the radio, Dustin and his binoculars, with you and Steve squished between them. Your hands intertwined, more for you out of stress.

Erica radioed back, “Green light, roger that. Commence Operation child endangerment.” That just made you more stressed.

With you next to Robin, you pulled the radio towards you, “Can we maybe not call it that?” Erica only replied, “See you on the other side. Nerds.”

You groaned with your head falling to the border. Steve’s hand touched your back and rubbed circles along your shoulder blades. “It’s okay. We’ll get in and out, nothing dangerous.”

“Yeah, except we’re putting an eleven-year-old life in danger by climbing through the vents. I just know if her mom finds out, I’m in for it.” And Mrs.Sinclair was a nice woman but will put you in your place if her children are harmed.

No one responded to your comment, Steve only pressed a kiss to your temple and let it linger as he squeezed your clasped hands three times. “It’ll be okay.” He whispered.

“All right, nerds. I’m here.”

Robin clicked the side button, “Do you- Do you see anything?”

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” “Any guards?” “Negative.” “Booby traps?” “If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

“Thank you for that.” Robin radioed back flatly. Within a few seconds, Erica called back, “I’m in.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to freak out. He ran a hand over his face and muttered, “Oh, God.”

All four sets of eyes watched as the metal doors opened outward with little Erica Sinclair strutting her way forward. She stood in the light with a hand sitting on her cocked hip as she yelled, “Free ice cream for life.”

It was a second before the four of you took the stairs down the roof and jogged to the metal room. The small square space was filled with brown packing boxes for different stores in the mall, Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes were the first two you spotted. Steve grabbed a knife and ripped it through the tape of an Imperial Panda.

Staring down into the box you were met with a metal container. Steve looked at everyone before grabbing the handle and giving it a hard twist, air hissed before he pulled the top off. Four more twist tops stood out with a bout of steam floating around.

“That’s definitely not Chinese food.”

He started to stick his hand inside before stopping and looking at everyone, “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.” Robin and Erica moved closer to the wall.

You and Dustin stayed by Steve’s side. “Steve, I don’t think-“ “Baby, it’ll be okay.” Giving his comforting smile and you took three steps back.

Dustin stood his ground. “Dustin-“ “No.” Steve sighed, “Just… Just step back, okay?” A hand to his chest.

“No.” Steve raised his voice, “Step back. Seriously.” You reached for Dustin’s arm trying to pull him with you, but he was shaking you off. “No! No! If you die, I die.”

And it got quiet before Steve just shrugged. “No one is dying.” Needing to say it yourself.

Steve twisted a handle, more air hissing. He pulled the container up slowly and with all eyes trained you were greeted with the sight of some green substance that looked like it belonged in Gotham City.

“What the hell?” Steve whispered. And Robin asked, “What is that?”

Before any answer could drop from the sky, the room started to rumble and shake slightly. “Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin looked up as Steve still held the container.

“Booby traps,” Erica whispered.

The room shook again. “You know what?” Robin moved forward, “Let’s just grab that and go.” Taking the liquid from Steve.

Dustin moved to the buttons panel while Steve leaned back into the box. You could hear the repetitive tapping behind you. “Which one do I press, Erica?”

“Just press the damn button, nerd.” Always with a comeback.

Dustin sighed, “Which one? I’m pressing the button, okay?”

“Press ‘open door’.” “I’m pressing ‘open door’.”

Steve walked over, “Just open the- Press the other button.” And you watched as he tapped the same button.

“Out of the way so she can push the button-“ Robin tried talking over Steve and Dustin bickering. “Would you stop?” “I’m trying!”

Your body started to tingle and your breathing was slowly getting shorter. All the commotion with everyone yelling, the small room being locked closed, and potentially being found out was making you start a panic attack. And to make things worse you saw a double door closing and then the room dropped.

Lights were flickering and everyone was screaming. You dropped to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest as you closed your eyes and covered your eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Just repeating the one word and hope your heart doesn’t explode from the quick beating.

taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessxoxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx / @redheadedfangirl / @agustdeeyaa / @yappydoo / @liberhoe / @hehehehannahthings / @ladybug0095 / @sweeter-innocence-fics / @j-6o / @voteforevilthoughts / @harrysflowercrownrry / @ilovereadingfanfics / @sorrow-has-a-place-here / @80strashbag / @sunsumonner / @sweet1peach / @cierrajhill / @we-out- here-simping / @nix-rose-a / @x-theolivia / @stylesyourmine / @starkeylover /

*STRIKED MEANS TUMBLR CANT TAG YOU*

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dragon-teaparty · 1 year

Text

Safe and Sound - Leon Kennedy x reader

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

hai pretty people! am back but with a leon story :3

i will try to write as much as i can here

also this story is kinda long sorry XD

cws: mention of ptsd, a bit of gore

other tags: gn reader, re2 leon cuz he's a cutie<3 based on the song safe & sound from taylor swift

summary: leon wakes up from a nightmare and you are there to comfort him

———

based off of this cover :3

youtube

"No!"

His throat felt stripped of its tissue as he screamed out but there was barely a sound.

Leon stood in the ruined police department. He couldn't move no matter how hard he tried, he was stuck in place.

He watched as his coworker was torn apart and eaten alive. He wanted to run over and help his coworker, he wanted to pull out his gun and blow that zombies brains across the tile floor.

But he couldn't. He could only watch, tears streaming down his face. Leon was angry, he was desperate as he tried to move even an inch but it was as if every bone in his body was broken, crippling him.

The rookie cops screams turned into sobs, coming out at as short heaves. It was all he could do.

The undead crouched at the other officer's body slowly stood up and turned to Leon. Its skin was grey and rotting off of the bone, the eyes a milky blue color. It held a chunk of flesh in its mouth before choking it down like some sort of bird. It began to limp towards him.

Leon began to panic. He felt like he couldn't breathe as his heartbeat thumped hard against his chest.

"Move! Move! Move!" The thought rattled in his head as the zombie approached, but any effort was futile.

Before Leon could even blink, the rotting reanimated corpse lunged at him.

—

Leon jolted up in bed in a cold sweat. He took a moment to look around and take a few deep breaths.

He was safe, he was in his apartment. He tried to control his breathing as he wiped sweat and tears from his face.

He then sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He wasn't sure how much more of these nightmares he could take... They seemed to get worse each night.

It suddenly hit him that his close friend was downstairs on the couch. They were drinking and his friend got a little too drunk to drive home safely so he allowed them to stay here.

Leon stood up and quietly crept downstairs. He spotted your sleeping form on the couch, slowly moving up and down as you breathed.

"Don't be afraid to wake me up if you have another nightmare." Y/n's voice echoed in his head. It wasn't the first time y/n had comforted Leon through nightmares or panic attacks. Leon always felt bad about it but you were more than happy to help him and calm him down.

The young man stopped and contemplated for a moment. He didn't want to wake you up but, at the same time, he really needed you right now.

With a deep breath, Leon walked over to the couch and gently shook your shoulder. "Y/n..."

Slowly but surely, you stirred awake and your sleepiness faded as you saw Leon before you.

"Hey, Lee," you said, your voice a little raspy from sleep. "Another nightmare?"

Leon nodded and sighed. "I'm sorry, I really don't want to be alone right now."

You shook your head and opened your arms. Leon immediately crawled on the couch and buried his face into your chest.

"I told you to never apologize." you said as you wrapped your arms around your friend. "You've done absolutely nothing wrong."

Leon relaxed in your arms. He already felt so much better being here with you.

You were used to Leon coming to you about his nightmares and flashbacks but it wasn't very often that you actually spent the night at his apartment. Usually, if you weren't with him, he would call you and vent to you about his bad dreams.

"Y/n?" Leon spoke up, his voice slightly muffled as his head rested on your chest.

"Mhm?" You hummed in response.

Leon hugged you just a little tighter. "Can you sing that song? Y'know, the one you sing to me when I call you?"

You smiled sweetly. "Of course." You replied.

You and Leon laid down on the couch. Leon's face nuzzled into your neck and your hand found its way to his hair.

After you knew that you both were comfortable, you began to sing softly.

"I remember tears running down your face when I said I'll never let you go..."

Your fingertips gently grazed Leon's scalp as you ran his hand through his hair.

"When all those shadows almost killed your light..."

This song was very special for both you and Leon. You had chosen this song because it perfectly described the way you felt about Leon and how much you cared about him.

"I remember you said, don't leave me here alone..."

Leon's muscles relaxed and he closed his eyes, admiring your soft voice.

"But all that's dead and gone tonight..."

Memories flashed through your mind as you sang. The song brought back memories of you and Leon. The way he'd melt in your embrace and the way he stopped crying when you sang to him.

"Just close your eyes, the sun is going down..."

The comfort you gave Leon was unbelievable to him. You were his person, his light. If it weren't for you, he'd be drowning himself in alcohol. Your touch alone was enough to help him calm down. He had to admit that he loves you, he really loves you but he didn't want to admit his more romantic feelings for you.

"You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now..."

You two weren't even dating but you might as well have been. It was normal for you two to hug and cuddle up next to each other. To tell the truth, you loved Leon, maybe more than you should've. Feeling the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck makes your heart flutter. You didn't admit your feelings in fear of ruining your friendship if he didn't feel the same.

"Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound..."

Leon was drifting off, all worries and fears from his nightmares slipping out of his mind. You smiled at this. It was usually at this point in the song that he'd begin to fall asleep. Your hand gently ran through his soft hair, lulling the young man even further into sleep.

"I love you." Leon mumbled quietly before he finally fell asleep in your arms.

You were surprised but it was a welcome one. You smiled and held Leon closer as a light blush crept onto your cheeks.

"I love you too."

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leonxreader #leon s kennedy x reader #y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #self insert #x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake

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vcnillazelda · 2 years

Text

maybe it’s my fault

jasper hale x reader

summary: after a misunderstanding, you leave your current relationship in a messy place

tags: getting back together kinda, musician! reader, school dances, slow dancing <3, human! reader, jasper is kinda stupid but we love him anyway, good friend alice <3, based on <maybe> it’s my fault by willow <33, angst with a happy ending

✞———————❖———————✞

jasper was so excited. he was going to hang ot with you today. the two of you had agreed to have a little getaway during the weekend in a secret spot the two of you found. you two had just become established so this was the closest thing to a date the two of you have had. he had your favourite foods and everything. the blonde truly wanted to spoil you.

“i know. he’s so adorable.” he overhears; and jasper freezes. “so you really like him, right? you should totally ditch your plans and go hang out with him.” edward responds. that was weird… you normally barely spoke to edward. was he referring to your date with jasper? his dead heart sinks as he listens closer. “mmm, i dunno.” you sound rather joking. he can hear your heartbeat, it’s pumping fast. “c’mon. it’ll be fun. you two can get to know each other more.” edward advices. “he doesn’t like me like that yet, now shut up. jasper will be here soon.” he furrows his brows, dropping his backpack with a light thud. what were you two talking about? were you cheating on him? jasper can feel the pure adoration in your emotions talking about this mystery person and he wants to scream. taking off, he heads in the opposite direction. so much for that date.

you were so worried. after edward had left, jasper hadn’t turned up at all. you were anxious he might of gotten hurt or had stood you up, you knew he was a little odd but you didn’t think he’d do that. you had blew up his phone, terrified of the worst.

jas??

jaaasssss??

where are you? :(

are you late?

come on silly i miss uuuu

those were left on read; the rest were on delivered.

jas im seriously worried.

are you okay?

did i do something wrong?

im sorry :(

please let me know you’re okay.

i’m so sorry please just let me know if you’re okay

now you were sat up late at 3 am terrified of the worst. had you upset him? did he not love you? was this all a sick joke? was he put up to it? your mind was racing and your heart was hammering. you sob to yourself, slamming your phone down onto your mattress, it bounces and clatters to the floor but you don’t care. curling into a ball, you cry to yourself, clutching your body to attempt to soothe yourself, yet nothing could compare to how jasper held you. sitting up, you snatch your notebook, maybe some songwriting would help you vent.

jasper was now sat in alice’s room. she was looking unimpressed. “you seriously think she’s cheating?” she asks, deadpan. “yes! i overheard her and edward and she was talking about someone else.” alice runs a hand over her face. “alice i’m serious!” jasper whines, his heart was aching. “have you spoken to her?” alice asks, looking at him. “no..?” he mutters. alice gives an exasperated expression. “seriously, jasper? you ghosted her? she’s probably worried sick.” his friend scolds, and jasper sighed. “should i go see her..?”

“yes, dummy! go talk to her. if she is cheating, which i doubt, then you can talk about it; find the truth.” alice gestures to her door and jasper sighs. “alright. you’re right. i’ll talk to her.” he mumbles, getting up. “good. don’t come back until you’re back together. i don’t want my favourite couple breaking up.” alice teases, pinching his arm with her sharp nails. “okay, okay.” jasper smiles a little, leaving his friend’s room.

jasper slips into your home through an unlocked window. he was hoping you were still here and not somewhere being sad. as soon as he walks upstairs, he can feel your presence. it was sad, overwhelmingly sad. carefully, jasper peers into your room. you’re fast asleep, back turned to him, yet your emotions were devastated. stepping into the room and closing your door, jasper rounds your bed, examining you for any signs of distress. you had dried tears upon your face, and jasper sighs. “oh, sweetheart…” he mutters, cold thumb making your face scrunch up as he wipes them away. he glances down, your song book had fallen from your hand, a mess upon the floor.

curiously, jasper scoops it up carefully.

maybe it’s my fault?

scrap song (probably)

rough idea:

met him at a party, i said he seems nice / every time i think about it i get butterflies / and i done told you we agree that he’s alright / never thought i’d be tripping / over the lost time / i said it was fine, laying down six feet under it’s sublime / should of saw the signs / now we’re in a fight

chorus??:

it’s all on my mind, all on my mind / i try to rewind / and all the while / i’m hurting inside / it’s your fault / maybe it’s my fault?

jasper runs his fingers over the ink, smudging it a little. examining the bottom of the page, he spots a smaller piece of writing.

said i can handle this / that was your one request / said i would be there / be there in your distress / instead you just feel dispensed / i don’t know / if i’m worth forgiving.

jasper sighs, closing the book and looking from it to you. you looked so idyllic, so peaceful. carefully, he places the book upon your bedside table, moving around the bed to lay down with you. his arm curls around your waist and you shuffle a little, exhaling calmly. jasper sighs, resting his forehead to the back of your neck. “you okay?” you mutter softly, and jasper hums. “yeah… are you?” he responds. “i’m alright.” that was a lie, he could feel your sadness. “wanna talk about it?” you ask him, and jasper sighs. “yeah… i uh- i overheard you and edward.” you let out a soft ‘oh’. jasper feels ill. “are you… are you cheating on me?” he adds on, voice tiny. “no..! no, of course not. why would you think that?” you ask, and jasper exhales shakily. “i just- i heard edward telling you to ditch your plans and go with some other guy and you sounded so happy-“ he mutters, choking up. rolling over, you hug him back. jasper clings to you, burying his face into your neck.

“jasper, we were talking about you.” you explain, and he feels incredibly stupid. “what..?” he pulls away. your hand gently cups his cheek. “he was telling me to cancel my plans next week so i could do something for you. it was meant to be a surprise but uh… it seems it’s been spoiled.” you smile sheepishly. jasper exhales with relief, all his negative emotions venting from his body. you smile at him a little and your boyfriend immediately snatches your lips in a kiss. your hand slips into his hair, cradling him close. “i would never cheat on you.” you mutter against his lips. “i know- i know, i’m sorry.” jasper responds, kissing you again.

“i really wanted to surprise you next week. i’ll have to get you some other time.” you joke as the two of you finally pull away. “sorry, sweetheart.” jasper smiles, brushing his nose against yours. “it’s okay. i was planning to take you out to the park late at night like some weird picnic type thing. there was gonna be cheesy music and edward was planning on setting it up.” you explain, jasper laughs softly. “thank you for the thought sweetheart. we can still do it considering our actual date has been… ruined.” you smile sadly, kissing his nose gently. “i dunno, jas. the nights still young.” you suggest, sitting up. jasper follows you. “what are you suggesting?” he asks, smiling at you. “come on.” you stand, tugging his cold hand. jasper huffs out a soft laugh.

you pull him flush to your chest, arms wrapping around him. jasper immediately hugs you back, squeezing slightly. “what are we doing?” he asks, voice quiet. “dancing, silly.” you respond, kissing his shoulder. “i see.” jasper chuckles, leaning his head against yours, swaying with you slowly. “this is much more romantic, if i may say so.” you giggle, squeezing him. “we’re like the modern romeo and juliet.” he muses, and you laugh. “totally, except we won’t die at the end.” jasper smiles. “no?” he humours you, and you hum. “no. we’ll have what they couldn’t have.” his heart almost beats again. “and what would that be?” he mutters, kissing your head softly. “a happy life, together. no more stupid situations where one thinks the other is cheating.” you pinch his side playfully. jasper laughs a little. “i’m sorry.”

the two of you stand in silence, relishing the moment with each other. “i love you.” jasper mumbles, you smile. he can feel pure love and adoration radiating off of you. “i love you too.” you respond, yet he already knows that. “i didn’t mean to pry, but i read your song.” he admits and you gasp, gently slapping his back. “peeper.” you smile into his neck. jasper laughs. “it’s beautiful, but i want to assure you that nothing was your fault. i jumped to conclusions. i shouldn’t of ignored you.” jasper closes his eyes, palm slipping into yours. “thank you..” you mumble, and jasper smiles, kissing your head once more. “your feelings were valid too. i would of reacted the same way.” you add on, and jasper exhales through his nose. “i never thought i’d hate anything more than falling out with you.” jasper huffs out a laugh. “i know.” you giggle, squeezing his hand. “i love you.”

#jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock x reader #twilight jasper #jasper cullen #jasper cullen x reader #// 🍨 vcnillazelda #// 🍨 twilight

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