#we're still friends and we still talk sometimes. but it's all small talk and i hate small talk

[hillbillyoracle]

Hey friend - saw your questions in the tags - let's chat!

I'll start with this - your doctor is wrong. Your immune system isn't going to shit and masking isn't causing your problem.

Think about it. If you'd encountered that virus somewhere else - a grocery store, at work, on a bus - if you weren't masking, you likely would have caught it then and gotten sick. That would be considered normal.

Passively encountering viruses in your daily settings does not make your immune system better inherently. Sometimes you're exposed to just enough that your body develops antibodies but doesn't get infected. SOMETIMES. But it's just as likely if not more that you're exposed to enough to make you sick.

All viral illnesses carry with them the possibility of long term damage. Even in healthy adults. All of them.

The only way to ensure you're being exposed to an amount that is likely to cause immunity but not illness is vaccination.

Unmasking in public is not making your immune system "stronger", it's playing roulette. Maybe it works out for you and you get some antibodies. Or maybe it doesn't and you end up bed bound by long COVID or, you know, dead. That's the choice you're making ultimately.

It's heartbreaking reading the accounts of previously healthy people who were told by their doctors not to mask and then wound up bedbound with long COVID (1 in 10 infections, then risk goes up). Their lives were forever ruined by doctors being devastatingly wrong about masking.

So why is your doctor wrong? I don't know your doctor personally but there are three main reasons I've found when I've asked health care professionals who seem to hold anti-masking views.

The first is that they latched on to some very poorly done research that suggested some measures of immune function went down the longer people masked. That research was done on incredibly small numbers of people - we're talking like 40 health care workers in patient care, not even close to being generally applicable - was poorly controlled (compared with 40 people not in patient care), used self report measures, and crucially did not include whether people got sick more as an outcome measure. A lot of this research has not be replicable - the key way we confirm scientific findings - and has been contradicted by larger scale studies were illness was included as a metric but that research hasn't gotten the same air time as the earlier more poorly done research. And doctors don't go out of their way to check what fits their bias.

The second is that we're currently at the beginning of a paradigm shift in medicine that will likely take decades to unfold. A lot of "prevailing wisdom" about viruses and how our immune systems work is changing. We've been told for years that viral exposure makes us stronger - but we're actually starting to find that viral illnesses leave damage even in healthy people that can cause problems later; even making some cancers more likely. The "hygiene hypothesis" - a leading theory as to why some people develop allergies and others don't - is having to grapple with some research that during lockdown, children who caught fewer illnesses were the ones who were less likely to develop allergies. Basically - this is a shift on par with using soap in medical facilities. It's going to take a while for doctors to catch up. Search "Ignaz Semmelweis" to see how doctors responded to that research - it's a rough road. The third is largely what so many other people seem to be falling victim to - this idea that we "have to get back to normal". As if there is a normal that can be returned to after a worldwide pandemic. Tons of doctors have this bias, just like any other people. Plenty of doctors are still eugenicists at heart - they don't care if sick people die so they can be slightly less inconvenienced. The confuse their lack of ability to imagine a world where we mask in high risk settings, where we have better air purification at home and in public, where we develop better vaccinations for a "fact".

TL;DR - all quality evidence currently points towards masking not "lowering" your immune system.

As far as where to get elastomeric masks in Europe - the best place to check is r/Masks4All on reddit. They have several lists compiled by region and tons of people who are happy to go digging to find you what you need. Lots of Europeans on there.

I'd be curious to know why you can't mask with your parents.

I lived with my parents until recently. My partner and I had a small section of the house to ourselves - basically a big room. We kept air purifiers going all the time and masked when we left our area. We would take food back to our section of the house to eat. We still hung out at parties and enjoyed other folks. We saved up for a PlusLife and used that with friends a few times and unmasked with them.

These measures weren't perfect but as we say in my house - stack our buffs. In 5 years, I've never tested positive for COVID. My partner did once and it was after a lapse in masking. Following that one infection - her mental health conditions, allergies, and hearing all got worse despite her doctor saying she'd "fully recovered".

Too often people say "can't" to protect their egos from the reality that they simply don't feel like it. It's important to be honest about whether it's "can't" or don't want to - a lot of issues people have are solveable. Not all, but I'd say most.

Anywho - I wish you the best. I appreciate that you're even open to masking more. r/ZeroCOVIDcommunity and the People's CDC have a lot of good resources too. All the best!

For those who still don't mask:

You know how the trans community asked cis folks to put their pronouns in the email signatures and the like so they didn't out themselves by making theirs public?

Consider this.

In a country that is being fueled by fascism - which is big on eugenics - if the only people masking are people with chronic illness and immune deficiency, then by not masking you're leaving us high and dry not just to the virus, not just to social isolation, but to fascists who consider us a threat to country.

So even if you really don't think COVID is a big deal - fucking mask.

[iwakuraz]

me and my best computer friend have been really drifting apart over the past year and I'm trying to be normal and healthy about it but really I feel like sobbing and never making friends ever again

[super-powerful-queen-slayyna]

First time Buck and Eddie share a bed in Eddie's place after Texas™, they spend a good minute just staring at each other, heads rested on palms and lying on their sides, knees touching.

Because yeah maybe they've shared a bed before but it still feels new and tentative, like another wall between them just came down and now they have no idea what to do with this new level of intimacy

Eddie breaks the silence first with a hushed "you okay?" And Buck just nods wordlessly because he's a little terrified of speaking and somehow ruining this whole thing even though it was Eddie that had insisted on sharing and it was Eddie that'd said that any perceived privacy and boundaries was not worth the damage inflicted from spending night after night on the couch

So now he's here, next to Eddie on his bed, staring at his best friend's face and cataloging it in a way he'd never been quite allowed to do before. The beauty mark under his eye didn't seem so black in colour now. It's more grey?

Something must be playing across his face because Eddie asks again. "What's wrong?"

Buck licks his lips, shrugging helplessly and ignoring that way Eddie's eyes had flicked down by his mouth to track that movement. "I feel a little worried."

"worried?"

"yeah, I don't want to accidentally kick you during the night. Or-or even make you uncomfortable by getting too close."

Surprisingly Eddie chuckles. "Too close? Buck we're sharing a bed, I think that ship has sailed"

"no it hasn't"

Eddie rolls his eyes, "Buck we're even sharing a blanket, it's fine"

"well, what if you feel something you don't want to" Buck rushes out, feeling stupid. He knows that some awkward situations are unavoidable and the only way out of them is through. The morning after a one night stand. The beginning of an agreed upon threesome when no one knows how to start it off smoothly. Talking to your best friend about possible morning wood.

Eddie frowns at him, clearly not getting it. "What?" He says, baffled.

Buck pointedly glances downwards, shifting his hips for emphasis.

There's a sharp intake of breath when it clicks for Eddie. "Oh, um..." his cheeks are tinged red, visible even in the moonlight from the window. And he's avoiding Buck's eyes for the first time since they slipped into bed together.

"that's-that's fine too"

Buck raises his eyebrows, staring skeptically at him, the corner of his mouth ticking up.

Eddie huffs when he glances at his expression, his foot kicking at him indignantly. "It is. It's not like it'll be the first time I felt a boner against me"

Buck chokes. "What?"

Eddie just shrugs, turning more scarlet "it wasn't exactly warm and cosy sleeping in the barracks or out in the open in a foreign country. We used to huddle together for warmth, and sometimes even for just comfort. The occasional morning wood against your thigh or back was just ignored."

"oh"

"like I said, it's fine, don't worry about it"

But Buck is worried. He's very worried.

"and what if -" Buck finds himself pushing again. It's like he's searching for a reason for Eddie to kick him out of bed, listing all the possible reasons it could get real awkward later on, even if that's the last thing he wants. What he actually wants is — "what-what if I cuddled you?"

"What?" Eddie asks, even more baffled than before.

"accidentally!" Buck rushes to explain, feeling himself heat up, "I — I meant, what if I moved around in my sleep and accidentally got an arm around you or something. It'll be like I was spooning you all night"

Eddie gets quiet after that, eyes darting around and biting his lip in contemplation. Then he gives Buck a small and hesitant smile

"So, let's spoon all night then"

Buck just gapes at the man shifting closer to him, hyper aware of the way their knees were overlapping now and the hot breath ghosting across his lower face as Eddie speaks again.

"if you cuddle me before sleeping, you don't have to worry about it during sleeping."

"Eddie..."

A palm lands softly on Buck's hip, fingers caressing the skin where the hem of his shirt had ridden up a little. "Come on, Buck," Eddie urges, squeezing, "I just want us to be comfortable."

Buck swallows, frozen with indecision. Then, Eddie's hand slips further in, thumb massaging at the small of his back.

God, Buck wants.

His other arm that had been lying still between them moves jerkily until it hovers over Eddie's waist.

Buck looks back at Eddie one last time, checking to see if he'd changed his mind. But Eddie just looks undeterred, gaze steady and calm

When Buck finally touches, it burns.

Eddie's skin is so hot against his, sending a shiver up his arm. It feels like the shock of entering a hot tub with steaming water, before it settles down into comfortable warmth.

Circling his waist, Buck tugs and Eddie comes easily.

They're chest to chest in a second, Eddie's arm nestling between them as the one of his hip slides fully around him, an anchor point to pull himself closer with. Their noses nudge together for a second before Eddie ducks his head, nosing into his neck, allowing them to shuffle closer still. Their legs intertwine fully now, the long limbs twisted enough for Buck to lose track of which belongs to him.

Eddie hums, nuzzling closer until he gets comfortable and sighs contently. "Now you can't kick me during the night either."

Buck laughs breathily, resting his chin stop Eddie's head, his hand rubbing soothingly on his back. Yeah, he could get used to this.

He closes his eyes, smiling.

"Good night, Buck."

"'Night, Eddie."

[harrysfolklore]

i don't like red - lh44

summary: alana hamilton is excited to see her dad racing again. however, she’s not a big fan of his new team’s color wc: 1.3k

read the bestest fist :)

folkie radio: F1 IS BACK BABYYYYY, honestly i love writing dad!lewis and this idea popped in my heard a while ago and i just had to write it ! hope you like this, we all need some comfort about that race

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Alana Hamilton is a clever child, with a growing interest in the world her father is part of. At just five years old, she knows with unwavering certainty that her daddy is the best driver in the world. His number is 44, a fact she proudly recites to anyone who'll listen, and he drives a sleek black and teal car that matches his racing suit.

For Alana, race weekends are magical. They mean hanging out with her beloved uncles Toto and Bono, watching Georgie drive alongside her daddy, and sometimes playing with her little friend Jack.

The paddock has become a second home, its sights, sounds, and faces as familiar to her as her own bedroom. So when the first race of the 2025 season arrives and you lead her towards a different part of the paddock than she's used to, confusion clouds her bright eyes.

The sea of red before her is a stark contrast to the silver and teal she expects, and Alana's little hand tightens in yours as she looks up at you, confusion clear on her face.

"Mommy, where are we going?" Alana asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Daddy's garage is the other way." She points towards the familiar Mercedes area, her brow furrowed in confusion.

You squeeze her hand gently, trying to find the right words to explain. "Remember how we talked about Daddy driving for a new team this year? We're going to his new garage."

As you finally approach the Ferrari garage, Alana is even more confused when she fails to spot any familiar faces, "Mommy where is Uncle Toto and Uncle Bono? And Georgie? Is Carmen here? I want her to paint my nails like last time."

Before you can reply to Alana's barrage of questions, a familiar voice calls out, "There's my little champion!"

Alana's head whips around, her face lighting up as she spots Lewis. "Daddy!" she exclaims, breaking free from your hand and running towards him. Lewis scoops her up, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Alana giggles, but then pulled back, her tiny hands on either side of Lewis's face as she examines him seriously. "Daddy, why are you wearing red? Did you spill pasta sauce on your racing pajamas?"

Lewis chuckles, exchanging an amused glance with you. "No, sweetheart. Remember how we talked about Daddy driving for a new team? This is my new team's color."

"But I like the silver car," Alana's lower lip transforms into a pout. "Can't you paint this one silver?"

"I'm afraid not, princess," Lewis says gently. "But you know what? Red is a very fast color. And look," he points to his race suit, "my number 44 is still here. Some things don't change."

"But I don't like red," Alana insists, "I like silver."

Lewis put Alana down, crouching down at her level, "I know it's a big change, sweetheart," Lewis says softly. "But sometimes change can be exciting. Want to see the new car? It might be even faster than the old one."

Before Alana can respond, Charles Leclerc approaches, a warm smile on his face. He crouches down next to Lewis, bringing himself to Alana's eye level.

"Hello there!" Charles says cheerfully. "You must be Alana. I'm Charles, your dad's new teammate. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Alana regards Charles with curiosity, but there's still confusion in her eyes. She looks back at Lewis, then to Charles, and then around the garage again.

"Do you know where Georgie is?" she asks Charles, her voice small but determined. "My daddy always drives with Georgie."

Charles' smile softens with understanding. "George is still with the other team, Alana. But I'm here to be your dad's new teammate. Maybe we could be friends too?"

Alana doesn't respond immediately, her gaze drifting back to the unfamiliar red surroundings. "I don't like red," she repeats, more to herself than anyone else.

Sensing the need for a distraction, Charles' face lights up with an idea. "Hey Alana, would you like to meet my dog, Leo? He's here in the garage and loves making new friends."

At the mention of a dog, Alana's eyes widen with interest. "A doggy? Here?"

"Yes! He's very friendly. Would you like to play with him?" he asks, "My girlfriend Alex is here as well, and I bet she'd love to meet you. She said your dress is so pretty."

Alana's interest seems piqued by this,"Really? She likes my dress?"

Charles nods enthusiastically. "Oh yes, she thinks it's beautiful. She'd like to be your friend too. What do you say?"

Alana looks up at you and Lewis, seeking permission. You nod encouragingly, relief washing over you at seeing a spark of happiness in her eyes.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," you say. "Just remember to be gentle with Leo, okay?"

As Charles leads Alana to meet his dog, you feel Lewis' arm slip around your waist. You lean into him, both watching as Alana's giggles begin to fill the air.

"That was... more dramatic than I expected," Lewis murmurs, his voice a mix of relief and lingering concern.

You turn to face him, reaching up to straighten the collar of his race suit. "She's just used to everyone at Mercedes," you reassure him. "She knows them since she was born, it's a big switch but she'll adapt."

Lewis smiles, his eyes softening as he watches Alana play with the dog. "You're right," he kisses your temple softly. "She's smart, just like her mom."

"And stubborn, just like her dad."

Your moment is interrupted by the sound of Alana's delighted laughter. You both turn to see her on the ground, giggling as Leo licks her face. Charles and Alexandra kneeling beside her and engaging with her.

A few minutes later, Alana runs back to you and Lewis, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Mommy, Daddy! I love Leo, he's so fluffy! And Charles is funny, he does silly faces. And Alexandra's dress is so pretty, it has flowers all over it!"

You can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "That sounds wonderful, sweetheart."

"They're my new friends!" she pauses, her expression becoming slightly more serious. "But can I still say hi to Uncle Toto and Uncle Bono and Georgie later? I miss them."

Lewis smiles at her fondly, touched by the way the team that was a huge part of his life, was a huge part of his little girl's too.

Lewis kneels down, pulling Alana into a hug. "Of course you can, princess. They're still our friends, even if we're on different teams now. And guess what? You'll make even more new friends here too."

"Okay, Daddy," Alana nods, her smile returning. "I don't like red, but I like your new friends."

The adults laugh, making Alana giggle too. Through the day, Alana's initial hesitation about the new team begins to fade as she spends more time in the Ferrari garage. She becomes fascinated by the bustling activity and the shiny red cars. Lewis takes her on a tour, explaining the different parts of the car and introducing her to the mechanics and engineers.

Alana is fascinated to see her dad race again, her eyes wide as she sees the red car fly in the circuit, even when she insists that she doesn't quite like the red.

After the race, you and Lewis hold each of Alana's hands as you walk through the paddock, you spot Toto, Bono, and George near the Mercedes garage and Alana's eyes light up, she tugs on Lewis' hand.

"Daddy, look! It's Uncle Toto and Uncle Bono and Georgie! Can we say hi? Please, please, please?"

Lewis chuckles and nods, leading her over to his former team members. They greet each other warmly, with Alana receiving plenty of hugs and hair ruffles.

"Well, well," Toto says with a grin, crouching down to Alana's level. "If it isn't our favorite Hamilton!"

Alana giggles, but then her face turns serious. "Uncle Toto, I have a very important question."

"Oh? And what's that, sweetheart?"

Alana leans in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you think we can paint Daddy's new car silver when no one's looking? I don't like red."

[sebscore]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 

author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 

masterlist

''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 

The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 

Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 

In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 

As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 

Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 

That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 

Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 

''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 

''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.

The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 

Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 

She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 

Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 

''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 

Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 

She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 

Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 

''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 

''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 

''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 

She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 

''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 

They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 

''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 

''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 

''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 

Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 

It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 

The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 

The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 

Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 

''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 

Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 

''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 

''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.

''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 

Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 

''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 

The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''

The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 

''Thank you.'' 

With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 

Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 

Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.

She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 

Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 

It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 

She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 

His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 

Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 

''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 

She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 

Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 

''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 

He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 

She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 

''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 

''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 

''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 

Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 

He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 

''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 

''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 

''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 

Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 

''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 

His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 

''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 

''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 

She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 

That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 

She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 

A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 

The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 

She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 

As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.

Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 

Are they still friends? 

The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 

As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.

The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 

Are they still friends? 

story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

baby steps. l Joel Miller

Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols

Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!

The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 

Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.

Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.

"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.

"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.

Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"

A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."

Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?

It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 

You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 

The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.

You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.

After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."

"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."

The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."

Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."

"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"

The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"

He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.

"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."

"I saw. Good thoughts?"

Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 

You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.

"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.

"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."

You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.

"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"

"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."

"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"

"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"

Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."

You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."

You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.

Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 

Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.

"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."

"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."

"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"

"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"

"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.

When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."

Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.

"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."

"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.

"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."

But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.

"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."

That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.

"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."

No answer.

"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.

"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."

"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."

"Maybe I'm sick?"

"You don't seem to be."

And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 

Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.

"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"

"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."

"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."

About me.

Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.

"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."

"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"

You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.

"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."

Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."

He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.

"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.

"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.

You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."

Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.

"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."

"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.

A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."

He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.

"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."

Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 

"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."

"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"

Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.

"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."

"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.

"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."

"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."

"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."

You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."

"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.

"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."

For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.

"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.

You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."

He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 

And then Ellie appeared.

"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."

The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.

"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."

Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.

You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.

He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.

"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.

"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.

You smiled and followed him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[dxrlingluv]

The Sea God

Pt. 2

A/N : I LOVE this request sooo much that I didn’t even noticed the length it has gone to. Uhhh have fun :3 Also if anyone wants a part two just comment! Poseidon art is from neil_illustrator! Thank you so much for requesting this ♒️🤍🤍.

WARNING : GN!Mortal!Modern!Reader, Poseidon is scary, Hermes lowkey became a babysitter, mentions of trauma, kidnapping, and violence. Not proofread.

Word Count : 3.8k

The world, in Y/N's experience, was varying shades of grey. Trust was a fragile commodity, easily shattered, and belief in anything beyond the tangible, the provable? That was a luxury Y/N couldn't afford. Past hurts had built walls around their heart, high and thick, but those walls had crumbled slightly for one person: Persephone.

They'd met Kore – as she'd introduced herself – in a quiet city park Y/N frequented to escape the noise. She had an aura of bewildered innocence mixed with a surprising depth. Y/N, usually wary, found themselves drawn to her gentle nature. They became unlikely friends, Y/N sharing cynical observations about the world, and Persephone offering surprisingly wise, sometimes oddly archaic, advice.

One late afternoon, strolling through a less savory part of town after visiting a small art gallery Persephone had wanted to see, trouble found them. A group of rough-looking men cornered them, leering at Persephone's otherworldly beauty.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" the leader sneered, stepping closer. "Lost, little flower?"

Persephone shrank back, her eyes wide. "Please, just let us pass."

"Oh, we'll let you pass," another chuckled darkly, reaching for her arm.

Something inside Y/N snapped. The low-simmering trauma, the ingrained need to protect the few good things left, ignited into cold fury. Before anyone could react, Y/N stepped directly between Persephone and the men.

"Touch her," Y/N's voice was dangerously low, devoid of its usual cautious tone, "and you'll lose your hand. Maybe more."

The leader scoffed. "Big words from... well, whatever you are. Get out of the way."

"No." Y/N didn't move, didn't even flinch as the man took another step. "You heard me. Back. Off. Now." There was a chilling certainty in their voice that made even the hardened thugs pause. When one tried to shove past, Y/N moved with unexpected speed, grabbing his wrist and twisting hard. A sickening crack echoed in the alley, followed by a howl of pain.

"I WARNED YOU!" Y/N yelled, eyes blazing with a ferocity that stunned everyone, including Persephone. The other men, seeing their companion clutching a broken arm and the sheer protective rage radiating from Y/N, scrambled away, dragging their injured friend with them.

Y/N stood trembling, the adrenaline slowly fading, leaving them shaky. Persephone gently touched their arm. "Y/N... you were incredible. Thank you."

"No one," Y/N said, voice still tight, "messes with you."

Persephone, back in the Underworld and occasionally visiting Olympus, couldn't stop talking about Y/N.

"—and then they just snapped his wrist! Like a dry twig!" she recounted excitedly to Hermes, who was lounging nearby. "Their eyes went completely cold, but fierce! You should have seen it, Hermes! Utterly devoted, absolutely fearless when protecting someone they care about."

"Another tale of the mighty mortal Y/N?" Hermes drawled, polishing his caduceus. "Honestly, Seph, you've told this story, or variations thereof, to nearly everyone. Father Zeus is intrigued, Aunt Hera is suspicious, Ares thinks they sound amusingly violent, and Uncle Poseidon... well, he just raised an eyebrow, which is high praise, I suppose."

"But they are amazing!" Persephone insisted. "So strong, so loyal, even though they don't believe in anything! They think we're all just stories!"

"Which, perhaps," came a deep voice. Hades emerged from the shadows, putting an arm around his wife. "Makes their loyalty even more potent. It is given freely, without hope of divine reward or fear of divine punishment." He looked thoughtful. "The others grow restless with your tales, my dear. Some are annoyed, some... deeply curious."

Y/N's next conscious thought was one of intense disorientation. The hard concrete of their apartment floor was replaced by... clouds? No, impossibly smooth, cool marble that seemed to gleam with internal light. Groggily, they pushed themselves up, head pounding. They weren't in their apartment. They weren't anywhere they recognized. Towering pillars soared towards a golden sky, intricate carvings depicting scenes Y/N's skeptical mind immediately dismissed as myth.

Panic began to set in. Kidnapped? Drugged? This was far too elaborate.

"Ah, you're awake! Excellent." A cheerful voice broke the silence.

Y/N spun around, instinctively falling into a defensive crouch. Standing there was a young man with winged sandals and a mischievous grin, leaning casually on a staff entwined with serpents.

"Who the hell are you? Where am I?" Y/N demanded, voice raspy. Their eyes darted around, assessing potential exits or weapons. Nothing but ridiculously ornate architecture.

"Temper, temper," the winged man tutted. "Relax! You're on Olympus. Big O? Home of the Gods? Ring any bells?" He gestured expansively. "I'm Hermes, by the way. Messenger, guide, currently assigned babysitter, apparently."

"Olympus," Y/N repeated flatly, disbelief warring with the impossible reality around them. "Right. And I suppose Zeus is about to pop out and zap me with a lightning bolt for jaywalking?" Sarcasm dripped from every word. This had to be a hallucination, a very weird dream.

"Well, Zeus is around, but lightning bolts are usually reserved for more serious offenses," Hermes chuckled. "Honestly, you're here because Persephone wouldn't stop singing your praises. Someone decided the best way to satisfy divine curiosity—or perhaps annoyance—was to just... bring you here."

"Bring me here? You mean kidnap me?" Y/N straightened up, fists clenching. The fear was being rapidly replaced by anger. "You can't just abduct people!"

"Technically," a new voice interjected, deep and resonant like the ocean depths, "we can do pretty much whatever we want."

Y/N turned. Leaning against a massive pillar, observing them with an unnerving calmness, was a man who radiated power. He had sea-green eyes that seemed to hold ancient storms, dark hair, and carried a large, ornate trident as casually as one might carry an umbrella. The air around him felt heavy, charged.

Y/N's skeptical mind screamed delusion, but the sheer presence of the man was undeniable. Still, defenses shot up higher than ever.

"And who are you supposed to be?" Y/N challenged, crossing their arms, trying to project confidence they didn't feel. "King Triton?"

Hermes winced slightly. "Uh, darling, maybe dial back the snark? This is—"

The man pushed off the pillar, taking a slow step towards them. He wasn't smiling. "I am Poseidon." He stated it simply, as if announcing the tide's turn. "God of the Seas, Earthquakes, Storms, Horses." He paused, his sea-green eyes fixed on Y/N. "And I believe you are the human Persephone finds so... compelling."

Despite the impossible situation, Y/N's ingrained skepticism and defiance kicked in. "Look, 'Poseidon'," Y/N said, making air quotes with their fingers, "and 'Hermes'," they gestured sharply at the winged messenger, "I don't know what kind of elaborate prank this is, or if I'm having a psychotic break, but I want to go home. Now. I don't believe in gods, I don't belong on... on 'Olympus'," the name felt ridiculous on their tongue, "and I certainly didn't ask to be abducted!"

Poseidon merely raised an eyebrow, a faint, almost imperceptible hint of amusement – or perhaps irritation – flickering in his ancient eyes. Hermes sighed dramatically.

"Oh dear," Hermes muttered, glancing between the fiercely defiant mortal and the immensely powerful sea god. "This is going to be even more complicated than I thought."

Y/N met Poseidon's gaze head-on, refusing to back down even as a primal part of their brain screamed about the danger. This was not how they expected their day to go, and they weren't about to be cowed, god or no god. "So, are you going to send me back, or do I have to find my own way off this ridiculous cloud?"

Poseidon's sea-green eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at Y/N's defiant question and dismissive tone. The air, already feeling strangely charged to Y/N, grew heavier, thick with the scent of brine and ozone, like the air before a massive storm breaks over the ocean. It wasn't an overt threat, but it was a palpable shift in the atmosphere, a silent assertion of power.

"Find your own way?" Poseidon's voice was deceptively calm, yet it vibrated with an underlying power that seemed to echo off the impossibly high ceilings. "Mortal, you are on Olympus. There is no 'finding your way' off, unless we permit it. Even he," Poseidon flicked a glance towards Hermes, "cannot simply ferry souls from here without sanction."

Hermes nervously adjusted the strap of his messenger bag. "He's not wrong, darling. Bit of a one-way street for mortals, unless you get the official divine taxi service, which, ah, usually requires not insulting the management." He offered a weak smile. "Look, I get it. It's a lot. One minute you're probably, I don't know, microwaving leftover pizza, the next, bam! Hall of the Gods. But this isn't a prank."

"Isn't it?" Y/N shot back, turning their glare on Hermes. "Because kidnapping someone, dragging them to... to Cloud Cuckoo Land, and expecting them to just accept that guys with tridents and winged shoes are real? That sounds exactly like some twisted, elaborate prank." They turned back to Poseidon, refusing to be intimidated by the atmospheric pressure. "Or a hallucination brought on by bad plumbing fumes."

Poseidon took another step closer. He was taller than Y/N had first realized, built solid like a sea wall that had withstood millennia of crashing waves. He stopped barely an arm's length away, forcing Y/N to crane their neck slightly to maintain eye contact.

"You speak of belief," Poseidon said, his voice lower now, more intimate but no less powerful. "You stand before proof, yet you cling to disbelief like a shipwrecked sailor to driftwood. Is it bravery? Or merely stubborn foolishness?"

"It's called rationality," Y/N retorted, trying to ignore the way their heart hammered against their ribs. The sheer presence of this man... being... was overwhelming, but admitting that felt like surrender. "Show me something I can't explain away as a trick. Go on. Turn that fancy fork into a fish. Make it rain indoors. Do something other than loom and talk cryptically."

A flicker of something – annoyance, perhaps – crossed Poseidon's features. Hermes quickly stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on Y/N's shoulder. "Whoa there, sparky! Let's not go goading the Lord of the Seas into redecorating. Trust me, the cleanup is a nightmare."

Y/N shrugged off Hermes' hand, fueled by a mixture of terror and indignation. "Why not? If he's who he says he is, it should be easy, right? Unless you're both just part of some elaborate stage play." Deciding direct action was better than standing here arguing with delusions, Y/N tried to push past Poseidon, aiming for the vast archway behind him. "I'm leaving."

It was like running into solid rock. Y/N stumbled back, their shoulder aching from the impact. Poseidon hadn't moved a muscle, hadn't even seemed to brace himself. He just stood there, immovable, ancient power contained within a deceptively humanoid form.

Y/N stared, momentarily stunned. No human could be that dense, that immovable. The air still crackled. The scent of the sea was stronger now. Doubt, cold and unwelcome, began to seep through the cracks in their skepticism.

Poseidon looked down at them, his expression unreadable. "Leave?" he echoed, the word rumbling like distant thunder. "You mortals are always in such a rush. Rushing towards your brief lives, rushing towards your inevitable ends." He tilted his head slightly. "Persephone spoke of your loyalty. Your ferocity in defense of her. She failed to mention your... startling lack of self-preservation."

"Maybe I just don't like being kidnapped and patronized by mythological figures!" Y/N snapped, rubbing their shoulder, defiance flaring back up to mask the dawning, terrifying possibility that this was real.

"Enough," Poseidon stated. The word wasn't loud, but it cut through the air, silencing even Hermes' next attempt at placation. "You were brought here because your actions, your nature, intrigued beings far older and more powerful than you can comprehend. Whether you believe is irrelevant. You *are* here." He gestured slightly with his trident, not menacingly, but as an indication. "Hermes will see you settled somewhere less... public. We," he paused, his sea-green eyes locking with Y/N's again, "will speak later. When you have perhaps grasped the reality of your situation."

Hermes cleared his throat. "Right then! V.I.P. suite – well, okay, maybe more like 'confused mortal containment room, Olympian edition' – this way, darling! Try not to insult any more major deities on the way, please? My nerves can't take it." He gave a hesitant nudge. "Come on."

Y/N hesitated, glancing from the now impassive face of Poseidon back to Hermes' expectant one. Every instinct screamed to run, to fight, to deny. But the immovable presence of the Sea God, the sheer impossibility of the place... it was starting to wear them down. With a frustrated sigh that felt utterly inadequate for the situation, Y/N took a tentative step to follow Hermes, casting one last wary, resentful look back at the god who claimed dominion over the oceans. This was far from over.

Following Hermes felt surreal. Y/N walked with stiff posture, acutely aware of the towering presence of Poseidon fading behind them, though the lingering scent of salt and storm seemed to cling to the air. Every instinct still screamed trap, delusion, dream, but the throbbing ache in their shoulder where they'd collided with the unyielding god was a stubbornly physical counterargument.

Hermes led them away from the grand hall, down corridors that defied Euclidean geometry. Archways opened onto balconies overlooking landscapes that shifted like oil on water – one moment a nebula swirled below, the next a sun-drenched Grecian coastline impossibly far beneath them. Pillars carved with glowing runes pulsed softly, and occasionally, shimmering figures would glide past, offering Hermes casual nods before disappearing through solid walls.

"Try not to stare too much," Hermes advised cheerfully, noticing Y/N's wide eyes despite their attempt at a nonchalant facade. "Some folks around here are a bit shy. Others... well, others might take staring as an invitation, and trust me, you're not ready for that kind of divine attention yet."

Y/N swallowed hard, tearing their gaze away from a fountain where the water flowed upwards. "Right. Wouldn't want to accidentally challenge Apollo to a staring contest or get turned into a spider by Athena for looking sideways," they muttered, the sarcasm less biting now, edged with a dawning unease.

Hermes laughed. "Something like that! See? You're learning! Though Athena's more likely to challenge you to a quiz bowl first. Arachne was kind of a special case." He winked. "So, questions? Concerns? Burning desire to know where the bathrooms are? Because divine plumbing is a marvel, truly."

"I have a million questions," Y/N admitted, the words feeling heavy. "Like, why me? Why drag me up here over some hearsay from Persephone? And how are you planning on sending me back?"

"Okay, easy ones first," Hermes said, ticking points off on his fingers. "Why you? Because Persephone's assessment – fierce, loyal, protective, surprisingly strong mortal – piqued interest. Gods get bored, Y/N. Novelty is appealing. Plus, your whole 'I don't believe in you' schtick? Downright fascinating to beings who've been worshipped, feared, and mythologized for millennia."

He conveniently skipped the 'how to send you back' part and gestured towards an ornate door inlaid with mother-of-pearl. "As for why drag you up? Efficiency, mostly. Easier than arranging godly field trips down to... what was it? Your little grey box apartment?"

Y/N bristled at the description but didn't argue. The sheer absurdity, mingled with the undeniable reality surrounding them, was short-circuiting their usual argumentative responses.

Hermes pushed the door open. "And voilà! Your temporary accommodations. Olympian standard, mortal-compatible."

The room wasn't a cell, much to Y/N's surprise. It was spacious and airy, furnished with plush couches and strange, beautiful objects that seemed to hum with low energy. One wall was entirely absent, replaced by a shimmering barrier that looked out onto a swirling vortex of stars. There was no bed, just a large, inviting nest of impossibly soft-looking cushions in the center.

"Comfy, right?" Hermes beamed. "Nectar dispenser over there – careful, small doses only for mortals, seriously. Ambrosia is probably off-limits, sorry. Wardrobe should auto-tailor anything you need. And the... uh... facilities are through that archway." He pointed. "Self-cleaning, naturally."

Y/N walked slowly into the center of the room, running a hand over the strange, cool fabric of a cushion. They looked out at the starscape. It was terrifyingly beautiful. "So I'm just... supposed to stay here?"

"For now," Hermes confirmed, his tone becoming slightly more serious. He leaned against the doorframe. "Look, Y/N. You made quite the first impression. Standing up to Poseidon like that? Mortals usually dissolve into puddles of terror. Or try to offer sacrifices. Your approach was... different."

"He's just a person," Y/N said, but the words lacked conviction even to their own ears now. That immovable presence...

"No," Hermes corrected gently but firmly. "He's not. None of us are just 'people.' Remember that. Especially with him. Poseidon's moods are tied to the oceans – vast, deep, capable of tranquil beauty and catastrophic destruction. He was intrigued by your defiance, I think. Don't mistake that intrigue for softness." He pushed off the doorframe. "Try to... adjust. Get some rest if you can. Someone will be by eventually. Probably."

"Probably?" Y/N echoed, alarm flaring up again.

"Olympus time is flexible!" Hermes said with a wave. "Could be an hour, could be a day. Just... try not to break anything expensive. Or yourself." And with a final, blindingly fast smile, he zipped out, the ornate door clicking shut behind him, leaving Y/N utterly alone in a room that shouldn't exist, in a place that defied all logic, with the chilling weight of Poseidon's final promise hanging in the air: We will speak later.

Y/N sank onto the cushion-nest, the silence of the room pressing in. They stared out at the swirling cosmos beyond the barrier, the ache in their shoulder a dull throb. Skepticism warred with the undeniable evidence of their senses. Kidnapped by actual gods. Gods who were annoyed, or intrigued, by them. And one, the Lord of the Seas himself, intended to speak with them again. A shiver, completely unrelated to the room's temperature, traced its way down Y/N's spine. This wasn't a dream, and it definitely wasn't a prank. It was terrifyingly, impossibly real.

Silence. After Hermes’ rapid departure, the silence in the strange, star-view room was profound. Not the absence of noise Y/N was used to back on Earth, occasionally punctuated by traffic or neighbors, but a deep, humming quiet that felt ancient and vast, like the void outside the shimmering barrier.

Y/N remained huddled on the cushion-nest for what felt like a long time, simply staring out at the wheeling galaxies. The initial shock was slowly, terrifyingly, being replaced by a cold dread mixed with reluctant awe. It was real. The immovable god, the winged messenger, the impossible architecture, this room overlooking space – it was all horrifyingly real.

“Kore– well… Persephone,” Y/N thought, a wave of conflicting emotions washing over them – warmth for their friend, confusion, and a growing ember of resentment. “Did you know they’d do this? Did you tell them stories thinking it would lead to… abduction?” It seemed unlikely; Persephone, despite her strange wisdom, possessed a core of genuine sweetness. She probably thought she was just bragging about her cool, tough human friend. The thought brought little comfort.

Eventually, restlessness overcame the paralysis. Y/N stood up, legs stiff, and began to cautiously explore the room. They approached the shimmering barrier that served as a window. Tentatively, they reached out a hand. It stopped inches away, met by an invisible, yielding force, like pushing against dense water. It wasn't solid, but it was impassable. The starscape beyond seemed close enough to touch, nebulae swirling in colors Y/N had never imagined. Looking down, they saw nothingness – just an infinite, terrifying drop into the cosmos. They quickly stepped back.

Next, the wardrobe. It was just a smooth panel set into the wall. Y/N hesitated, then pressed it. The panel slid silently aside, revealing… nothing. Just an empty space. Confused, Y/N thought, “Clothes?” Instantly, garments materialized on hangers – simple, comfortable tunics and trousers in soft, earthy tones, vaguely Grecian but practical. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Okay, less toga party, more… divine loungewear.�� A flicker of their old sarcasm surfaced. They reached out and touched a tunic. The fabric felt impossibly soft, cool against their skin.

Curiosity overriding caution, Y/N approached the nectar dispenser Hermes had pointed out. It looked like a simple, elegant carafe filled with golden liquid. Remembering Hermes’ warning, Y/N poured only a tiny drop onto their fingertip and hesitantly tasted it.

An explosion of flavor unlike anything they’d ever experienced bloomed on their tongue – sunshine, honey, rain on warm earth, a hint of the sea – it was overwhelming, intoxicating, yet vanished in an instant, leaving only a pleasant warmth. No exploding, thankfully. But definitely not normal Earth-juice.

They paced the room, running through the encounters again. Hermes, annoying but seemingly not malicious. And Poseidon… The memory of his sea-green eyes, the sheer weight of his presence, the casual way he’d spoken of mortals rushing towards their ends… Y/N shivered again. He wasn't just powerful; he was ancient. What could a being like that possibly want with them? Intrigue? What did that even mean for a god? Was Y/N just a momentary distraction, like a human might watch an interesting bug before stepping on it?

“He said we’d speak later,” Y/N muttered aloud, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet room. “When I’d grasped the reality.” Well, reality was definitely grasping back now, hard. The question was, what would that conversation entail? Demands? Threats? Tests?

A soft chime echoed through the room, startling Y/N so badly they nearly jumped onto the cushion-nest. It wasn't the door. It sounded like it came from everywhere at once. Was that the signal? Were they coming back?

Y/N’s heart hammered. They instinctively straightened up, trying to gather the remnants of their composure, hands clenching and unclenching at their sides. They faced the door, bracing themselves. Whether it was Hermes with more confusing advice or the formidable Sea God himself, Y/N wasn’t sure which prospect was worse. The waiting, the uncertainty, was agony. The silence stretched again, marked only by the frantic beat of Y/N's own heart against their ribs. Any moment now…

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Their Reaction to Your Spotify Wrapped

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in honor of wrapped day!!! this idea came when talking with @axel-skz one of my fave friendships made in 2024. i hope yall enjoy cuz it was hella fun making this.

Warnings: Slight suggestiveness, Slight cussing, mention of afab! reader (ovulation), mention of pornography (in a joking manner).

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Chan

The minute you pulled up your Spotify Wrapped, Chan was leaning over to be nosy.

"I bet it all Stray Kids." He said, as the animations started playing." You gave a small nervous laugh, knowing that it wasn't going to be them.

"And I was rig- Billie? Eilish?" His face froze. "Billie Eilish, Tyler, the Creator...Stray Kids. We're third?" His brows furrowed and the corners of his smile twitched downwards. "Oh..." His voice was defeated and he looked at you with unreadable eyes.

"Yeah! Isn't that great! You guys are in my top five!" You said pinching his cheek lightly, trying to brighten the look painted on his face.

But it was no use since he was already spiraling.

"So do you- well, is it our music? Do you not like it anymore? Is it too repetitive? Or is it my production? Should I switch things up- like should I make more ballad? Add more orchestral elements? Or maybe-"

"Chris-"

"-more collabs? Maybe Billie would be open to- are our lyrics not deep enough?"

"Christopher-"

"I think maybe we need less-"

"CHRISTOPHER BANG!" You shouted through a fit of laughter.

He pulled back in surprise and looked at you with eyes as wide as saucers.

You took your hands, placing them on either side of his face. "It's not you or the boys, baby."

"Then what was it? Why weren't we number one?" He asked with a pout.

"You're third because I live with you." You lips upturned and Chan searched your face. "I don't need Spotify to listen to Stray Kids. I've got the worlds best producer humming in my ear while we fold laundry and wash the dishes. Billie and Tyler don't do that."

His lips parted into a sheepish grin, a small "hehe" slipping out of his mouth as his face scrunched into a boyish excitement.

"You think I'm the best producer."

"Without a doubt." You replied, kissing his cheek softly. "So stop overthinking. What matters is that your my number one where it actually matters."

Chan's ears flushed pink when you said those words, and he surrendered, opting to cuddle next to you on the couch as you turned on the TV.

"Alright..." He said as you clicked on a random drama. "But I'm still going to add some features on our next album. Just for you."

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Minho

"Y/N. You're a virgin."

You sputtered on your tea, getting it on to the pages of your book. "And?! What does that have to do with anything-" You asked as you turned around to see your boyfriend dangling your phone like it was contaminated.

Your Spotify Wrapped illuminated the screen.

"Minnie-" You reached to snatch your phone but he held it out of arms reach, his eyebrows raised in mock incredulity.

"What the hell are your top five songs Y/N?! CupcakKe?! Unironically?!" He looked at your screen. "Deepthroat...Its Hard to Say I Love You, parentheses, while you're sitting on my face...Slob On My Knob- and another CupcakKe song, Y/N are you trying to manifest something?! Because this is not the way!" He said in horror.

You gave up trying to reach for your phone and crossed your arms and huffed. "As my friend always says- celibacy either leads to being asexual or a freak. Its a closed way of thinking but can be rather true sometimes..." You muttered, turning away to hide the blush creeping up your face.

"I'm shocked." He said, looking through the songs again.

"Why? It's art."

"Art. Art? Stray Kids is art, kitten. Wanting to eat dick but not wanting to fuck up your nails so - and I quote - 'i pick it up with chopsticks' is not art. Thats basically audio porn."

"More like audio smut."

"More like absolutely fucking terrfying." He said looking at the rest of your wrapped in morbid curiosity. "Where do you even listen to this freakiness? At the gym? While cooking? In public?"

"Sometimes..." You said shrugging and deciding to own it. "Its empowering."

Minho dramatically handed your phone back to you, giving you the longest and hardest side eye ever. "Your a completley different person. I've never been more afraid of you in my entire life. And I've seen you drive."

You took your phone, his words giving you and idea.

A devious smirk lit up your face.

Minho watched you in curiosity as you set your phone down. "Baby..." You started to laugh, heading to the living room. "What are you plotting-" Your eyes zoned in on the Alexa and Minho's eyes widened as he replayed his words.

"Alexa-"

"Baby no-"

"Play Drive by Stray Kids"

"Jagiya no-"

"Now playing Drive, by Bangchan and Lee Know-"

"Alexa no! Stop don't play that!"

"-feel the heat inside. Baby, baby we gon' do this day and night-"

"Enjoy your own art, baby!" You said kissing, him which in habit he leaned into before yelling at Alexa frantically.

"Alexa! Stop! Cancel- Delete Y/N's existence!"

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Changbin

"So..ITZY is your number one?" Changbin asked you, an unreadable look on his face as he stared at your phone. "Then NewJeans, TWICE, Blackpink, and aespa?"

"Yes..."

"And Stray Kids didn't even make it to your top five?"

"Yes...?"

There was a moment of silence, and Changbin looked up at you.

Your heart thudded in your chest, and your mouth felt dry. "Are...are you mad?"

Changbin set your phone face down and stepped towards you. "Mad? Mad?" He asked, his voice slightly elevated.

You opened your mouth to say something- to apologize or ask him to not be too angry but instead you were shocked when he trapped you in a hug and lifted you; spinning you around in a tight hug.

"I'M ECSTATIC!" He said, setting you down, and almost vibrating from happy energy. "Why would I have reason to be upset?"

"Because you weren't on my top five. Since your my boyfriend I thought that would make you-"

He shook his head, placing his hand out and closing his eyes. "Its a sign." He said in a philsophical whimsy.

"...What?"

He opened his eyes looking into the distance romantically. Then extending his arms in a dramatic flourish he painted the picture.

"You like girl groups. Meaning you're clearly meant to be with me."

You looked at him in a confused wonder.

"Think about it. I'm the ultimate baby girl. ITZY was number one. Who is close to ITZY? Me, Seo Changbin, your boyfriend. Subconciously, your soul has been telling you I'm the one for you all along." He said looking at you with a cheeky grin.

That made you laugh, your nerves leaving you.

"Binnie I think that has to be the most unhinged logic I have ever heard!"

"But it makes sense. The music reminds you of me. The energy scream 'Changbin'." You could almost imagine the sparkles around his name. "Cute, charismatic, adorable. The visuals- the duality. Me. Changbin." He looked at you with an exaggerated smolder.

He pushed you onto the couch gently, attacking you with tickles.

"Bin- you're- riDICuLOUS-" You squealed, as his fingers flew around you.

"No I'm not!"

"DelusionAL-"

"Never!"

He strengthened his attack until you could barely breathe you were laughing so loud- wondering why you thought someone like Changbin would be upset at something so meaningless.

"Even if I was, you would love me nonetheless!" He stopped his tickles, he blew a rapsberry on your neck and peppered you face with a few kisses. "And you'd have to deal with it 'cause your stuck with me forever."

"Forever?" You asked, a radiant smile on your face as the last of your giggles died out.

"Yes forever." Changbin replied, plopping down on top of you, planting one last firm kiss on your lips. "ITZY said so."

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Hyunjin

"Beethoven? BEETHOVEN?"

Hyunjin looked at you, his jaw nearly on the floor. When he asked you who your most listened to artist of the year was, he wasn't expecting to hear a classical composer leave you lips.

"Yes. Beethoven. Followed by you guys."

"N-n-n-n-no. No. Nope, no. Nnnnnn...nono." Hyunjin said shaking his head. "Run that back."

"Beethoven then-"

"Y/N-ah." He said with a serious look. "You mean to tell me...Beethoven- an old dead guy - was favorite over the band your loving, hard-working ALIVE and BREATHING boyfriend is a part of?!" His eyes narrowed in disgust.

"Well if you put it like that-"

He flopped dramtically onto the couch. "How am I supposed to tell the guys you chose a decomposing man who sits there- uh...metaphorically- and collects streams; over your boyfriend and his bandmates who work day and night, through blood, sweat and tears." He throws his hand over his forehead. "Its such a disgrace."

"Hyunnie, I think that Beethoven would have words for you if he was here." You say through a chuckle.

"Well he may have words for me, but I have no words for you." He said huffing dramatically, zoning in on Kkami who was sleeping peacefully. Hyunjin stands and scoops him up, burying his face in the poor, startled dog's fur.

"I can't believe you and your dramatics." You say walking up to him and putting your hand on the top of his head.

"C'mon Kkami. It's just me and you now buddy. We're boycotting Y/N-ie."

You rolled your eyes, letting out a snort. "You're a drama king, Hyunjin." You said, your eyes trailing to Kkami who looked between you and Hyunjin in an unconcerned sleepiness.

"Y/N clearly doesn't love us anymore."

Kkami looked at Hyunjin, then looked at you and then back at Hyunjin, then cocked his head; almost as if he understood the absurdity of the situation.

"You're insufferable." You flicked your boyfriend's nose, and stole the dog from his arms. "Beethoven is my study music. It helps me focus."

"So you're saying we're distracting?" Hyunjin takes Kkami out of your arms. "Don't talk to me or my dog ever again." He flips his hair and buries his face once more in the small dogs fur, the later shooting a look that seemed like an SOS.

"You're being so extra." You sat on the couch, patting the spot Hyunjin occupied only a minute ago.

"Oh, am I?" He asked, lowering himself next to you, a playful pout on his lips. Kkami immediately rushing towards the far end to resume his nap.

"Unbearably so." You whispered against his lips. "And for the record, Beethoven doesn't make songs that make me want to cry like 'Cover Me' or songs I want to scream at the top of lungs like 'God's Menu'."

"You really like Cover Me that much?"

"Mm. Obviously."

"Fine, fine. I forgive you. But only because I'm way to pretty to hold grudges."

You roll your eyes, but can't help the smile that forms.

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Han

Han peered over your shoulder, his eyes widening as he looked at your Spotify Wrapped.

“Y/N... baby, angel, love of my life...this... this...is your Wrapped?” he asked, a mix of disbelief and amusement in his voice.

You glanced at him, not anticipating the reaction. “Yeah, it’s my Wrapped. What’s wrong with it?”

Han let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Jagiya...Taylor Swift? Olivia Rodrigo? Sabrina Carpenter?” He placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re telling me I’m dating someone who has these as their top artists?” He blinks at you.

You blinked at him back incredulously. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything!” Han said, his voice playful but slightly elevated. “I thought you were cooler than this, Y/N! You’re too good for this mainstream pop stuff. You deserve better! To think you've never experienced more than that bubble...my heart is breaking."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his intense reaction. “I listen to your music as well! Besides...I like what I like? Why do you care so much?” You retorted.

“Because,” he said, suddenly serious, “I’m trying to help you, babe. Spotify Wrapped is like a doctor basically, it gives you a diagnosis. You’re... basic. Heartbreakingly basic. I'd be okay if you had at least one quirky artist but your last artist is Playboi Carti which knowing you, you played his music on repeat while you slept so your wrapped could seem at least a little cool."

You let your eyes land anywhere but him, knowing he clocked you on that one.

"I’m going to save you from this madness.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Am I really that boring?”

Han shook his head, his expression turning playful again. “No, no. Not boring, just undiscovered. You could be listening to something way cooler- something with depth! I’m dating someone who only listens to pop queens when you should be out here vibing to underground, avant-garde...I don’t know, maybe like, 90s rock or something? You seem like you could rock with that to be honest?”

“90s rock?” you echoed, trying not to burst out laughing.

“Yes! You need to broaden your horizons!” Han continued, clearly loving the moment. “I’m not mad that Stray Kids aren’t number one, I mean, that’s whatever, you literally can have a private show whenever you want. BUT I’m honestly a little teensy weensy upset I’m dating someone with such a copy and paste taste. Come on, babe! I expected better! Especially when you're dating a member of a band that has a wide range of talent. I mean you can literally ask me or any of the guys and you'd get a shit ton of different recs. You have an entire library of musical knowledge at your disposal. That's like having 100 flavors of icecream and choosing vanilla.”

You grinned, poking him lightly. “Okay, I get, I get it. But just so you know, you're still number one in my life, even if its not represented in my music choices."

Han’s eyes sparkled as he leaned in, ruffling your hair with a grin. “I’ll fix that, don’t worry. We’re going to go on a musical journey. I’m making you a new playlist. And I'll have the rest of the memebers make you playlists as well. You’re going to listen to some cool stuff, baby, and by next year’s Wrapped, you’ll be so hip that even I’ll be jealous.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” you said, laughing. “I kind of like my basic pop playlists.”

“Well, you will like my playlists,” Han said confidently, leaning back with a smug smile. “Trust me, love. I’ve got you covered. You’ll thank me later, once you realize just how much better music can be than the top 40."

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, alright, I’ll give it a shot. But only if you don’t judge me when I still go back to my pop queen playlist sometimes.”

“I’ll never judge you,” Han said, giving you a sweet smile. “I’m just here to help you reach your full potential as a music lover. Open your world up a bit. Change your life.”

You poked his side playfully. “You’re so dramatic, but I love you.”

“I know you do,” he said with a grin, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Now, get ready to say goodbye to those mainstream artists and hello to your new musical future.”

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Felix

Felix is sprawled on the living room floor, legs stretched out in front of him as he pulls up your Spotify Wrapped on his phone. His excitement is palpable- eyes glowing, lips curved into a soft smile.

That is, until he starts scrolling.

“Baby,” he says slowly, his voice gentle but undeniably concerned. “Why is ‘Meow Meow Meow Meow’ your number one song this year?”

You blink at him from your spot on the couch. “Because it’s a bop?”

“A bop?” he echoes in a strained tone, as if the words physically pained him. He turns the phone to you, the incriminating title glowing on the screen. “It’s literally just someone meowing to 'What Was I Made For'. Why not just listen to the original version?”

“Actually it's AI.” you reply, in a matter of fact tone. “And because it’s genius. I love cats, and I love Billie. Win-win."

He tilts his head, blinking at you like you’ve just confessed to a crime. “Um...okay. Maybe Minh-hyung would like it, I guess? ‘Skibidi Toilet, Minion version’? Why is that number two?”

You shrug, trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s catchy.”

“Catchy?!” Felix’s mouth falls open as he sits up straighter, his freckled face a picture of disbelief. “Do you…do you listen to this unironically? Like...for your enjoyment rather than being funny?” His voice hold even more concern now, it wavering slightly.

“I guess you'll never know,” you reply smugly.

He groans, laying back down and holding your phone way above his face. “Let me guess, number three is-” He cuts himself off with a noise that’s somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. “Ten hours of washing machine noises?”

Now you’re laughing, tears forming in your eyes as he glares at you. “It’s calming!” you explain between giggles.

“And who’s number four?” He face morphing with increasing horror. “Laufey…cat version?”

You shrug again, biting your lip to stifle your amusement. “It’s Laufey but, you know…with meows. It’s cute!”

Felix places the phone face down on the floor, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s fighting a migraine.

“And finally, number five. Let’s see which masterpiece you deemed worthy to round out this absolutely deranged top five.”

The moment he reads it, he freezes. His expression morphs into something unreadable- equal parts betrayal and comedic disbelief.

“KSI,” he mutters, his voice flat. He sits up slowly and releases a breath. “Behind… the washing machine and cat Laufey.” He releases his words with a click of his tongue.

You can’t hold it in anymore, bursting into uncontrollable laughter as he stares at you like you’ve just kicked his puppy.

“You’re number six, though!” you manage between gasps, tears streaming down your face. As you joined him on the floor.

Felix clasps his chest, like your words physically hurt him. “Six?! Y/N, I’ve cooked for you. I’ve baked brownies. I’ve stayed up late listening to you rant about coworkers! And I’m sixth place? Under meme songs? I mean your entire wrapped in a compilation of memes. I'm surprised Symphony didn't make it on there.”

“It’s not personal,” you tease, wiping your eyes. “It’s just Spotify.”

“Just Spotify?” he repeats incredulously, propping himself up on his elbows. “I sing you to sleep on facetime, Y/N. I text you good morning and good night every single day. And you’re telling me I lost to Skibidi Toilet?”

You crawl onto the floor next to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It’s okay, Lix,” you coo, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Maybe next year you’ll beat the washing machine.”

“Oh, I’m beating it,” he mutters, determination flickering behind his eyes. He grabs his phone, pulling up his notes app. “I’m writing a song that will sound good with Cat AI. With a bridge. And a rap section. And violins. There will be no way you won't like it."

You double over with laughter, and Felix can’t help but grin despite himself, his pout softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he mumbles, pulling you into his lap.

“You’re my most listened to, most loved, and most wanted in real life, Lixxie.” you assure him, smiling up at him sweetly.

Felix sighs, but leans to kiss your forehead anyway. “Yeah, well, I know that.”

"Then why do you look so down, hmm?"

"Because I'm concerned, I might need to find you a therapist."

(<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>)

Seungmin

You sat on Seungmin’s bed, tapping through your Spotify Wrapped with a satisfied grin.

Just how you thought it'd be. Predicatable, but represntative of how your musical year went.

You were minding your business, about to share your results to insta when Seungmin sat himself on the bed next to you, snatching the phone from your hands.

The moment he saw the screen, though, Seungmin let out a surprised huff.

"Ateez?" he said slowly, his voice tinged with amusement and a slight possessiveness. You knew how he was when you stanned other Kpop groups. You had been with him for a while, of course you knew. “Oh, I get it now. You’re one of those people."

You sat up and looked at him. "What do you mean one of those people?"

Seungmin shrugged. "Its okay, you can admit that you like bands that perform like they're auditioning for a Korean rendition of Magic Mike."

Your eyes widened, but before you could protest, he fell back on the bed, holding your phone up like a damning piece of evidence.

“Don’t even try to defend yourself, Y/N,” he continued, the smirk growing on his lips. “This Wrapped is telling me everything I need to know. It’s basically the modern-day Rorschach test you know; and what it’s screaming is that you’re letting your ovulation and hormonal spikes curate your playlists. I bet you’re one of those people who stream music videos on mute, too, aren’t you? Just vibing to the abs and body rolls in crop tops.” His eyebrows quirk in curiosity.

Your jaw dropped as you threw a pillow at him, but he dodged effortlessly, tossing your phone onto the bed carelessly.

He quickly got up, maneuvering himself so he was in front of you.

“Don’t act so scandalized.” He leaned closer, his dark eyes glinting with mischief, as you leaned back slightly. “You can admit it- you like watching them dance half-naked on stage, huh? I mean, who wouldn’t? Factually speaking they’re...talented.” he said, dragging the last word with exaggerated emphasis. “Really skilled performers. Without a doubt. But it’s cute. You’ve got a thing for guys showing a little skin. It’s very...telling.” He gave you a small, smirk.

You fell back on your elbows, your face warm from his teasing, but Seungmin wasn’t done. He shifted closer, hovering inches above you, the bed dipping under his weight as he planted one arm beside you, effectively caging you in. The other hand rested on your waist.

“But here’s the real question,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “If you’re so into that, what are you doing here with me? Fully clothed, tragically modest... just a genius who writes incredible music and doesn’t need to flash his abs to be appealing. What a shame for you, huh?”

The corner of his lips twitched upward as he leaned even closer, the air between you charged. “Tell me, Y/N,” he whispered, his breathe tickling the shell of your ear. “Do I need to take my shirt off to compete with them? Or should I just show you what real...talent looks like? Would you like that?”

"I..." Your heart was nearly leaping out your chest, a warmth overcoming your body as Seungmin spoke. You couldn't deny how flustered you were.

"Listened to them for 1000 minutes? How 'bout I double that. You'd enjoy every second."

Your breath hitched, you, nearly caving in; but before you could respond, Seungmin nipped your ear lightly and sat back with a sly grin, leaving you flustered.

“Ah, I was right. Hormones. But don't worry,” he said lightly, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. “I’ll forgive you for now. But only because I find it hilarious that my perfectly curated playlists are competing with your...uh,..primal needs?” He shot you a wink, his smugness on full display.

And just like that, he stood up, stretching leisurely as if he hadn’t just thrown you into emotional- and hormonal- chaos.

With that, he walked to the door, pausing to glance back with a knowing smirk. "If you ever get bored of half-naked performances let me know. I'm here, fully clothed yet still 10 times more attractive. I could teach you what good taste in music looks like. I’d hate for your Spotify Wrapped next year to be just as embarrassing.”

He winked again, blowing you a kiss, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you a flustered, blushing mess on his bed.

(<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>)

Jeongin

You handed your phone to Jeongin, proud of your Spotify Wrapped results. “Look! Stray Kids is my number one artist.”

Jeongin barely glanced at the screen before freezing mid-scroll. His eyes darted back up to meet yours, wide with disbelief. “Wait... what?”

“Stray Kids is my number one! My boyfriend is my most listened to artist!” you repeated, grinning like it was the best news he could hear all day.

But Jeongin, to your utter confusion, looked horrified.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, shaking his head as he sat back on the couch. “This...this is all wrong. Utter sacrilege.”

“Sacrilege?” you echoed, frowning. “You’re in the group. Shouldn’t you be happy about this?”

“Y/N-ah.” Jeongin said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if he were physically in pain. “Do you not see what you’ve done? Look at your other top artists!” He gestured wildly to the screen. “It’s TROT. Literal legends of trot music. Song Ga In, Jang Yoon Jeong, and Na Hoon-a!”

“Yeah?” you said hesitantly, unsure of where this was going. “What about them?”

“What about them? What about them!?” Jeongin’s jaw dropped like you’d just said the sky was green. “They should be above us! Above me! Above Stray Kids! This is trot. TROT.” He pronounced it with the reverence of someone naming a sacred art form.

“But I like Stray Kids,” you said, laughing nervously.

“That’s not the point!” Jeongin stood up, pacing back and forth like a professor about to give a lecture. “Trot is timeless. It’s emotional. It’s pure, unfiltered storytelling in music. And you’re telling me you put us- a bunch of chaotic twenty-somethings who write songs about cheese and screaming—above the actual foundation of Korean music?” He stared at you as if you had 6 heads growing from you.

“It’s not like I ranked it!” you protested. “Spotify Wrapped did that for me! Blame them!”

Jeongin spun back to you, pointing an accusing finger. “Don’t blame Spotify. This is your fault Y/N-ah. You’re clearly not listening to enough trot if us noisy Gen Z - minus Channie-hyung he's like an old grandpa- beat out legends like Na Hoon-a. Do you even know how much soul that man has? How many hearts he’s broken with his voice?” He looked at you in complete seriousness. "Countless." His eyes shone with admiration.

You rolled your eyes, unable to contain your laughter now. “Innie, are you seriously upset that I listen to Stray Kids more than trot music?”

“Yes!” he declared with absolute conviction. Then, after a pause, he added, “Well...no. I mean, I love that you like our music, because that means you love me and my dream but...this is trot! It’s a different category entirely!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I need to fix this.”

“Fix it? Jeongin I already listen to a lot of trot. You see it on my top artists.”

He nodded solemnly, sitting back down beside you and grabbing your phone. “But you don't listen to it enough. From now on, we’re having mandatory trot listening sessions. Every week. Twice a week, actually.”

“Twice a week?” you repeated incredulously.

“At least,” he said, scrolling through your Spotify, curating a new playlist on the spot. “You need to understand why this is a crime against music. Stray Kids shouldn’t even be in the same league as these legends. We’re fun, sure, but we don’t make people cry the way trot does. I mean, do you cry when you listen to ‘Thunderous’? No. But Jang Yoon Jeong’s ‘First Marriage’ could make a grown man bawl. I'm that grown man, Y/N. I'm that grown man." He said his voice dropping to a rueful whisper.

You couldn’t stop laughing as Jeongin grew more and more animated, his passion for trot completely overshadowing any pride he might’ve felt about his own group’s success.

Finally, he looked at you with a small, satisfied smile. “Don’t worry. By next year, I’ll make sure your Wrapped is perfect. Stray Kids can stay on the list, but trot will reign supreme. It’s the least I can do for your musical education.”

“And if I still prefer you guys?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jeongin huffed, pretending to think for a moment. “Then I guess I’ll forgive you...eventually. But we’re playing trot at our wedding, okay?”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “Jeongin, are you seriously bashing your own group right now?”

“Yah, yah,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “They’ll understand. And if they don’t, they love me anyway. They literally wrote a whole song for me.” He smirked, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You shook your head, still laughing. “Unreal.”

Jeongin grinned, adding a song to your new playlist.

“What’s unreal is how lucky you are to have a boyfriend who’s the best of both worlds- trot connoisseur and K-pop icon. You’re welcome.”

*edit*: but why is trot actually good...??? like i listened to it while writing this and...MYTRO...gonna stan when they debut frfr

(<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[nakylvr]

– SANTA TELL ME

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary: after ending things with sophia, daniela lets you stay with her for the rest of the holidays. and the night before christmas changes everything.

warnings/tags: fluff, nsfw content, language, confessions, friends to lovers, g!p daniela, soft dom!daniela, sub!reader, it's kinda sad too im sorry it ends happy i swear, not proofread

minors dni

part 1

your eyes groggily open as the sun peeks through the blinds, blinking a few times as you roll over onto your side and slowly start waking up. once your eyes adjust to the lighting in the room, you realize where you are. then, you remember what happened the night before. a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you sit up, running a hand through your hair and glancing around.

daniela wasn't in the room, and you could hear talking from downstairs, making you also remember the fact that it was a few days before christmas and that most people were spending it with their families. you had stayed at daniela's place on multiple occasions, sometimes for longer periods of time than others, so her family knew you by now. but, you still couldn't help feeling like you were intruding their holidays by being here.

not even a few minutes later, the door opens quietly, and dani peeks her head inside to see if you're awake. a small smile grows on her face when she sees you, walking in and closing the door behind her. "hey, how did you sleep?" she asks, sitting down on the bed.

you shrug your shoulders, looking down at the blankets. "okay. thanks for letting me stay," you reply in a quiet voice. "i should get going."

"what?" daniela looks at you with confusion. "yn, i know you're going to end up spending christmas alone and upset, and i don't want that for you. my family loves you, you've been here so many times, they know you. plus, i already kinda told them you would be staying for the rest of the holidays." she smiles sheepishly at the end, grabbing one of your hands.

"you–" you stop yourself by sighing and shaking your head, a little smile forming on your face. "why am i not surprised?" you look at her, giggling softly.

"because you know me," daniela responds, her smile getting bigger. "now c'mon, we're eating breakfast and then i am taking you to go ice skating!" she's practically grinning by now, hopping off the bed and pulling you up along with her.

"wh– ice skating?" you question, letting her pull you up off the bed. "dani, i don't know how to skate."

"i know," she nods. "i'm going to make sure we do as much as we can in these few days to make up for what happened to you."

your face heats up at her words and how she says it so nonchalantly, a warm feeling radiating through your body as you can see she's genuine about it. you can feel your heartbeat speeding up, and you have to pry your eyes away to calm down. "okay."

and she was telling the truth. during the few days before christmas, daniela dragged you around to do every possible thing that involved the holiday, making you forget what made you come in the first place. you were enjoying the time when you thought you would end up dwelling in your bed all day and night until the days passed.

it was christmas eve, and you and daniela were sitting on her bed, both of you on your phones with a comfortable silence filling the air. suddenly, dani puts her phone down and looks at you. "do you wanna dance?" she asks.

looking away from your phone, your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "what?"

"c'mon," she says, grabbing your hand and getting off the bed. she grabs her phone, and a slower christmas song that you don't recognize plays through the room.

"dani we both know i'm a bad dancer," you tell the latina, yet allowing her to move your arms to wrap around her neck.

"it's not that hard," daniela reassures, her hands moving to your waist. "just follow me, okay?"

you nod your head, looking down at your feet as you follow the steps and movements she was making, not noticing her gaze on you that never left. when you get the hang of it and finally look at her, your eyes stare into hers past the dim lighting in the room, still being able to make out the bits of green in them due to the closeness.

"thank you for making my holidays better, dani," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "i really enjoyed doing everything with you."

"don't thank me," daniela shakes her head. "i just wanted to make sure you had a good holiday. i'm glad you enjoyed it." there's a tiny smile on her face as she talks.

you smile back at her, the music in the background fading out the more you look at her. "you didn't get me anything, did you? we promised no presents this year," you say, your fingers playing with the curls in her hair.

"well..." daniela's voice trails off. "at first i didn't. but i couldn't help myself."

"dani!" you sigh loudly. "i didn't get you anything." your voice goes quiet again.

"it's okay," she replies, her hand moving up to cradle your face. "you being here is enough for me."

there's something in the way she says it that makes you feel like there's a deeper meaning behind it. you never noticed it until now. the way her eyes would linger on you when you weren't paying attention, the way she spoke to you like there was something more she wanted to say. the past few days you had spent with her helped you realize these things. and that you found yourself feeling things that you thought disappeared long ago. the silence that fills the air now is heavy with tension, both of you hesitating to do the next thing. her eyes glance from your lips to your eyes, but it's evident she's too scared to do anything.

slowly leaning forward, your lips hover just in front of hers before pressing them together. daniela's lips mold with yours as they slide against each other, the innocent kiss quickly becoming messy. you pull her closer to you, your bodies practically against each other as she walks backwards to the bed with you being pulled along. she stops once the back of her knees hit the bed, sitting down and pulling you down onto her lap, immediately reconnecting her lips with yours.

your arms remain hooked around her neck as her teeth nip at your bottom lip. parting your lips, daniela's tongue slips into your mouth, a little noise coming from you at the action. her nails are digging into your skin slightly, leaving little crescent moon marks on your waist while her tongue mends with yours. when she finally pulls away to breathe, her eyes are dark as she looks at you, your face flushed and breathing heavy trying to recuperate.

"dani," you say quietly.

"yeah?" she looks up at you with big eyes.

"i want you," you murmur, your fingers playing with her hair. "you don– you don't have to but-"

daniela doesn't respond, instead cutting you off by kissing you again. it's slower this time, as if she were trying to take her time compared to the last one. she's not trying to rush it. as she pulls away she picks you up swiftly and lays you down on the bed. hovering above you, her hand swipes away the strand of hair in your face, looking down at you as she asks you, "are you sure? i'm not going to make you do this."

"i'm sure," you nod your head. "please."

nodding her head, daniela's hands grab the hem of your sweater as you lift your arms up allowing her to remove it. her breath catches in her throat at you not wearing a bra, but she quickly leans her head down and puts her lips around one of your nipples, her hand grabbing and fondling your other breast. your heavy breaths fill the room excluding the holiday music that's still playing, and you remember that her family is scattered in the house, making you bite down on your bottom lip. your hand grasps the back of her head, pushing her closer to you as you arch up against her when she pulls away and moves to the other one, you're sure that your panties are soaked by now, and she's barely done anything.

finally removing herself from your breast with a quiet pop, her hands drag down your torso until they reach your pants and proceeding to tug them down and off your ankles along with your soaked underwear. spreading your legs, a low groan comes from daniela at the sight of you. your face is flushed, your chest is already littered in marks soon to change color as it heaves up and down, your legs twitching and wanting to close, your pussy practically dripping onto her sheets. all of it was almost too much for her. almost. she had been pining for you for so long, but she knew better to try and do something while you were with sophia. now that she was finally getting you, she was almost panicking, forgetting how to breathe as she stares, feeling her pants get tighter the longer she keeps her eyes on you.

"dani,"

your voice knocks daniela out of her thoughts, her eyes looking at you all big. "yeah?" she says.

"breathe, please. i would really not like it if you passed out and left me all horny on christmas eve," you tell her, giggling at the way she's looking at you.

a breathy chuckle falls from daniela's lips at your words that reassure her enough to get her mind straight. "right, yeah, sorry." she swallows the lump in her throat while nodding her head. "i just don't want to hurt you."

your eyes soften at the genuine tone in her words, how she cares so much about you that she worries of hurting you when you know she never would. grabbing her hand, you tug her closer so she's back to hovering above you, her other hand supporting her up next to your head. she looks down at you with an expression you can't recognize, but you're quick to notice what it means. "you won't hurt me, i trust you more than anyone else," you whisper to her.

daniela nods slowly, looking as if she were hesitating to say something, before she does in the same whispering voice as yours. "will you– would you be mine? i-i know you just broke up with sophia but i...i don't want this to mean nothing. i-i'm not that kind of person."

you're shocked by her words, staring up at her and seeing the way her eyes avert from yours, her face red with embarrassment. your hands cup her face, making her look back at you. "i'm all yours, dani. consider this a early christmas present," you say, smiling up at her.

a smile lights up on daniela's face when you respond, leaning down and kissing you deeply. your hands move from her face down under her shirt, your nails scratching lightly against her making her sigh into the kiss. pulling away, she sits on her knees, taking her shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the room before her shaky hands fiddle with her belt. you sit up a bit, your hands moving hers as you unbuckle the belt and undo the buttons on her jeans, feeling her gaze on you as you tug them down her legs along with her boxers.

a quiet gasp escapes your throat when her cock is freed from its tight confinement, seeing just how big she is with beads of precum leaking from her tip. shifting so you were on your knees, your hand grabs her cock and you give it a few pumps before wrapping your lips around her.

"shit!" daniela gasps the second she feels the warmth of your mouth around her. her hand instantly moves to your hair, bundling it up and holding it tightly.

you try to take all of her, but are stopped when your gag reflex kicks in and she accidentally thrusts into you, causing you to grab her thighs. she does it again, a low groan falling from her lips as you do your best to take it, looking up at her with big, teary eyes. your throat is already pulsing and throbbing while she thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out, her breathing irregular as she looks down at you.

"you think you're ready for me, baby?" she asks, smiling at the way you quickly nod your head.

lying back down on the bed, daniela hovers above you with one of her hands supporting herself up near your head and the other holding the base of her cock, dragging it along your wet folds. slowly, she pushes inside of you, her eyes remaining on your face to spot any signs of discomfort or wanting to stop. inch by inch she slips in you, and a whimper leaves her mouth as she stops when she's fully in. "you okay?" she asks you.

"mhm," you hum quietly, nodding your head with your eyebrows scrunched together at the feeling of her stretching you out. "please, do something," you whimper out.

hearing your plea, daniela slowly starts moving her hips, pulling out and pushing back into you, groaning at the way your walls contract around her each time she goes back in. "fuck...you're so tight," she hisses.

"oh my god," your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel her move in and out of you. "fa-faster, please," you get out through whimpers. "please, dani."

all daniela does is nod her head, her hands moving to grab your hips as she speeds up, the sounds of skin slapping against each other mixed with your moans and the music still playing loud enough to draw out what's happening in the room. strings of curses leave daniela's mouth, but her eyes don't leave your face even for a second, needing to see how your face changes and contorts every time she thrusts back into you.

the noises coming from you which started quiet start getting louder the more the pleasure overwhelms you, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to reach for her. "f-fuck, dani, you're so big inside me!" you whine.

daniela's dick twitches inside you at your words, her hips stuttering for a moment as she lets out a quiet moan. her head is spinning already, but as she hears a door open from down the hall she's quick to move one of her hands over your mouth to quiet you. "shh, stay quiet f-for me, baby," she says in a hushed voice, leaning down and pressing kisses on your neck.

your moans come out muffled past her hand over your mouth, grasping at her back with your nails digging into her skin, hearing her hiss at the sting but she doesn't slow down the movement of her hips snapping against yours. "mngh, dani..." you whine into her hand, your hips moving to meet her thrusts. you can feel every ridge and vein of her cock as she quickly pistons in and out of you, and a sharp gasp leaves your mouth when you feel her tip nudge against your g-spot. "oh my– oh my god!" you squirm around under her, your noises only getting louder when she realizes and purposefully starts trying to hit the same spot.

"god, you feel so good," daniela mumbles into your neck, biting down to stifle her own noises. "gonna make me cum," she whimpers. "you close, baby?"

"yes!" you gasp, quickly nodding your head. hearing her whimpers and quiet moans right next to your ear have you feeling impossibly close to the edge, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap with each movement she makes and each word she says. "please, i'm so close, dani!"

the latina's hips stutter again, her thrusts becoming sloppy and irregular as she moans against your neck. "wanna fill you up, please. please, baby. l-let me make you mine– fuck, please," she begs in whimpers, pressing her face further into your neck as her hand slips from your mouth.

your mind being so clouded with lust has you immediately nodding at her pleads, pulling her closer to you while wrapping your legs around her hips to keep her inside you. "cum in me, fill me up, please, dani," you whine into her ear. "mark me as yours, mami," you whisper.

the title falling from your lips has daniela moaning loudly into her neck as she thrusts into you again, her hips stilling as she cums, filling you up with her seed. your back arches at the feeling, her tip pressing against your cervix causing you to cum at the same time, covering your mouth with your hand letting out a loud whine. she slouches against you, breathing heavily against your skin trying to regain her composure. your hand rubs her back gently, feeling the scratch marks you left and feeling a little bad.

when she finally catches her breath, daniela pulls her face away from your neck and looks down at you, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face. "are you okay? was i okay?" she asks.

you nod your head, a tired smile on your face as you peer up at her. "i'm okay. you were great, i don't think i've ever felt that good," you answer, kissing her quickly.

"really?" daniela's face lights up. "i-i just wanted to make you feel good," she says, her face flushed pink.

"and you did," you smile. there's a moment of silence that fills the air between the two of you before you speak up again in a quiet voice. "i love you, daniela."

daniela's eyes widen at your sudden confession, her heart stopping for a second as she looks down at you. "really?" she questions quietly, almost as if she thought you were lying to her. "you do?" her voice cracks.

you can see the tears beginning to form in her eyes as she questions your words, your gaze softening as you cup her cheeks with your hands. "i do," you whisper. "i...i've loved you for a while now i just...i didn't think you felt the same so i never tried. i'm sorry for making you wait."

a few stray tears fall from the latina's eyes at your words, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tries to not start crying completely. "it's okay," she responds in the same voice. "i love you too," she smiles a bit at you, leaning down and kissing you.

smiling into the kiss, you can feel the difference in how she kissed you earlier. it wasn't as rushed or messy, her hand cradling your face as she slowly moves her lips against yours. pulling away, she smiles down at you. "i love you so much."

"i know," you giggle, pulling her down to kiss her again.

later into the night when you're already asleep, your phone dings, and daniela stirs around at the sound and phone lighting up. her eyes open slowly and she grabs the phone thinking it's hers, turning it on again and seeing the message that just came in. her eyes go wide as she wakes up completely, sitting up slowly to not disturb you as she re-reads the message. "i think the fuck not," she grumbles under her breath.

quietly, daniela gets out of her bed and pulls on her pants and shirt, still holding onto your phone as she exits the room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. going down the stairs, everyone else in the house is asleep, as should this person who texted you should be. making it to the front door, she unlocks and opens it, revealing sophia.

"wh-"

"cut the shit," daniela is quick to cut off the beginning of sophia's words. "why are you here?"

holding a small decorative christmas bag in her hands, sophia takes a breath, carefully choosing her words. "i wanted to give this to yn. i figured she'd be here of all places."

daniela's eyes narrow at the filipina, looking at the gift in her hands and crossing her arms over her chest. "you have a lot of nerve pulling the shit you did and coming back here," she says. "do you even know how heartbroken yn was? or did you just not give a damn about how she would feel?"

sophia tenses up at daniela's response, slowly nodding her head. "i know, i just-"

"dani, what're you doing?" your voice is heard before you appear behind daniela.

sophia's eyes go wide at the sight of you. you were wearing one of daniela's shirts, oversized revealing the obvious hickeys scattered across your neck and collarbones, and assuming with just your underwear on seeing as she could see your legs clear as day. your hair is a mess, your lips are puffy and swollen. her mouth goes dry as the dots connect in her head. "yn," she says quietly.

realizing it's sophia when you finally look at who's at the door, your body tenses up, and daniela is quick to notice, grabbing your hand. "what are you doing here?" you question the girl.

"uhm, i wanted to give this to you but uh," sophia struggles to get words out. "i think it's kinda dumb now. so..." her voice trails off, biting on her tongue to keep herself from saying more. "i'm sorry."

despite seeing the way her face drops when she realizes, the way she looks away to not show the tears forming in her eyes, you can't find it in you to feel bad for her. she knew what she was doing, now she was just feeling guilty because she got caught. "then you shouldn't have done it, sophia," you tell her. "just leave me alone, you lost your chance."

sophia merely nods her head, mumbling another apology before silently turning around and walking back to her car. as soon as she does, daniela closes the door and locks it before turning and looking at you, seeing the expression on your face with your lip tucked between your teeth to keep it from trembling.

"hey, hey, it's okay," she says softly, her thumb rubbing your knuckles. "come on, let's go back to sleep, okay?"

you nod your head in silence, following her back up to her room. when you're lying down next to her, you curl up into her chest as her arm wraps around you to hold you close to her. your thoughts are running around all over the place, and you want to say something, but the lump in your chest keeps you from speaking.

feeling your breathing slightly irregular, daniela leans back a bit to look down at you. "are you okay?" she asks in a quiet voice.

shaking your head, your eyes closed as you grasp onto her shirt in a tight bundle, you reply in a whisper. "please don't do the same thing."

daniela's heart breaks when she hears your response, pulling you closer to her as she kisses your head. "i won't, i promise. you don't have to worry. i'd die first before i would even think of doing that to you." she can feel wet droplets hitting her shirt after she says that, and her hand rubs your back gently. "i love you."

her reply hits you harder than you thought it would as you start to cry quietly into her chest. you were told the same thing by sophia, but everyone saw how that turned out. hearing it again has you second guessing everything you'd done, but the way daniela says it like she genuinely means it has you breaking down anyways. "i love you," you get out past your cries. "please stay."

"i'm not going anywhere," daniela responds. "just go to sleep. i'll wake you up tomorrow, and we'll have a good christmas, okay?"

"okay," you nod.

in the end, you celebrated christmas day with daniela and her family, happy to be creating new memories to remember over the terrible week beforehand for you. you got a few texts from sophia throughout the day, and by the third one you gave up and ultimately blocked her number. a gift bag was left outside the front door the next day when you and dani were leaving to go out, and you hesitated. part of you wanted to see what was inside, but the bigger part of you tossed it away in the trash can before getting into the car. even if the holiday started out bad, it ended about as well as it could.

[ncis-nerd]

Christmas Cheer

new au alert

Ship: Wife WandaNat x Reader // Platonic Kate & Reader // Brief mention of Kate x Yelena

Warnings: Mentions of Christmas, working in retail, the festive season, winter, alluding to reader being anemic.

About: Christmas time is the best time of the year for most, you love the generosity of people during this season. The Christmas movies, the hot chocolate, gift giving and most of all, spending time with the people you love. 

You hummed softly to the Christmas jingle playing in the background. You loved your job, you loved your elderly boss who would show you pictures of her grandchildren, your friend/co-worker Kate who you would spend your lunch break with. Going with you to your favorite Chinese Takeout place.

You loved your job but sometimes you regretted working retail at a toy shop during the Christmas season. Not to get you wrong, you loved seeing the joy on the kids faces, the sparkle in their eye when they got their heart set on a toy they really wanted. And you loved the magic of the festive season but it could be overwhelming sometimes. 

Stressed parents running on low energy and little sleep, desperate to find the popular toy their kid wants, searching endless stores just for the toy to be sold out. You couldn't blame them.

You didn't realize you were staring at these two women looking at the window's display of toys. They smiled softly, one woman had on this red and white knitted hat with reindeer on it. The other had a long coat on. You saw her whisper to the woman with the hat. The woman with the hat had a hot chocolate in her hand.

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Kate waved her hand in front of your face. “Huh?” You returned your attention to the raven haired girl.

“I said, do you want to go on lunch right now?” Kate asked as a low growl sounded from her stomach. You chuckled softly at the warning from your friend’s stomach that she was hungry.

“Sure! Let me just grab my coat and we can go.” You nodded, heading to the back room where your locker was. 

As you zipped up your red puffy jacket, Kate appeared in the doorway. “Ready?” She asked. You nodded as the two of you made your way to the Chinese restaurant. 

“It's so cold I can see my breath!” Kate exclaimed, exhaling only to be greeted with a small trail of fog exiting her mouth. You shivered in your layers which consisted of your hat, gloves, scarf, sweater, shirt, second shirt, pants and thermal pants. You got cold easily and instead of complaining all the time (which you still do by the way), you learnt that layering up helps you stay warm. Your mom had told you many times “I don't know how you can do it, I could never wear that many layers” but you shrugged her off. 

“We're here! I can smell the food!” Kate smiled as she opened the door to Tony's. Tony's is the name of the Chinese Takeout restaurant you and Kate go to. You've been going there ever since the first day you were hired. You can still remember it vividly. You were sitting in the backroom eating your pb&j sandwich when Kate came in and introduced herself. The two of you were around the same age, the rest of your co-workers were way older than you guys so Kate made the decision to talk to you and become friends. From that day on, you guys have been going to Tony's for lunch. 

Now that it's December, Tony's is more crowded. Especially since they came out with their Christmas themed menu, families and teenagers lined up to get something. 

Thankfully, there was no one when you and Kate went. If there was, you feared Kate's stomach might explode. 

“Hi there ladies, table for 2?” Steve smiled, as he picked up two menus. “Yup!” You nodded. “Is that Kate and Y/N?” You heard Clint's voice from the kitchen.

Clint was a chef who worked at Tony's, he had cooked if not all the meals you and Kate shared there, than most. In your time going to Tony's, you had gotten to know Clint well, you know he has a wife and two young daughters who sometimes come to visit him during his break.

“Yeah!” Steve responded. “Hello Kate, hello Y/N. How's the shift going?” Clint had a warm smile on his face. “Work's going well, how are things here?” You spoke. “Same old, same old. I assume you two want your regular?” Clint nodded. “Yeah, better make it quick. Kate here is starving.” You smirked. “Hey! I'm not starving!” Kate whined. You looked at her with a chuckle as she proved her own point with the whining. 

Clint led you two to your table. “Food should be out shortly” Clint nodded as he left. Your eyes scanned the room. You noticed a family sitting at one of the circular booth tables. The little girl had on a pink tutu and an orange shirt. The mom was on the phone and the dad was holding the brother. The little girl made eye contact with you and waved. You smiled softly and waved back.

Clint returned with your water and Kate’'s coffee and placed it down on the table. There was a soft red tint on Kate's face, you could tell she was texting her girlfriend, Yelena.

That's when you noticed the couple from the toy store had entered the restaurant. The blonde was taking off her hat as the woman in the long coat took her friend's hand and rubbed her hands together, to warm it up. You smiled softly at this gesture, you loved seeing how the holiday spirit brought people together.

Clint led the two ladies to the 2 seater tables right by you and Kate. “Thank you” the woman with the hat spoke, with a thick Sokovian accent. “Of course. Can I get you started on drinks?” Clint spoke. “I would like the bloody mary” the other woman spoke, her voice laced in a thick Russian accent.

“And for you ma'am?” Clint looked at the blonde. “Hot chocolate is fine. Thanks.” She nodded. Clint left once again, to make their drinks this time.

“This place is nice” the blonde spoke. “Да, освещение красивое, и меню выглядит хорошо.” the Russian responded. 

The Russian's eyes fell on you, you quickly looked away. Hoping that she didn't notice your staring. 

“Симпатичная девушка из магазина игрушек здесь.” the Russian's attention focused back on the woman sitting across from her. 

You wondered what she was saying. Right on cue, Clint comes out with your chicken lo mein and Kate's fried rice.

“That looks so good, my mouth is literally watering right now” Kate moaned. You giggled at her reaction. 

“I wish you a Merry Christmas” filled the silence in the restaurant as your phone went off. In that moment you regretted your ringtone. “Hello?” You answered. “Hi Y/N, I'm so sorry to disturb you from your lunch break but it’s so busy in here right now and we could sure use you and Kate back here at the store” You felt bad you guys were understaffed today and it probably didn't help that you and Kate took your lunch break at the same time. “Of course, I’ll let Kate know. We should be back shortly.” You hung up. 

Kate groaned, “Nooo.. I’m so hungry.” You frowned apologetically, “Sorry Kate, Elaine needs us back. She said there’s a big crowd in there right now.” You signaled for Clunt to return. “Hey, can you make this a to-go. Kate and I have to return to work unfortunately.” You said as Clint took the food away.

You zipped back up your coat and collected your belongings as you and Kate walked up to the register.

“Have a good one and stay warm, alright?” Clint spoke.

Google Translate:

Да, освещение красивое, и меню выглядит хорошо. - Yes, the lighting is beautiful and the menu looks good.

Симпатичная девушка из магазина игрушек здесь. - The cute girl from the toy store is here.

[wandussyfantasy]

You Suck, Let's Fuck

Request from anon: g!p reader x Wanda pairing. background: reader and pietro are best friends and have been since childhood. reader and wanda never got along but secretly have crushes on each other. wanda is jealous because reader is a player and has hooked up with all of wanda’s friends, and reader just uses those girls to distract from not being able to have wanda because they don’t want to ruin their friendship with pietro. it all comes to a head when reader saves wanda from a handsy at a house party and the tension between them is too much and they confess their feelings and have sex.

Summary: Y/n is frustrated when Wanda's friends form a pact to not sleep with her anymore.

Pairings: Wanda x NB!AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,596

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!! smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!wanda, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, masturbation, sex toys, public touching, fantasies, and teasing.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

“Pietro! Y/n! You're both dead!” Wanda screeches from the top of the stairs of the basement. You and Pietro look at each other and laugh. You hand him the joint that the two of you are passing back and forth. Wanda stomps her way down the stairs and neither of you move from your seats. You're on a bean bag chair and Pietro is sitting on an expensive gaming chair. The pair of you are playing a zombie game together. “You idiots think you're so fuckin funny don't you?” She points to her face with sharpie dicks drawn around it. “This isn't funny, I have to go to work unlike you bums!”

“Hey, we work,” you say defensively. Then a mischievous smirk pulls on your lips. “As a matter of fact, we're working right now,” you point to the camera that is pointed at you and Pietro, “say hi to our audience!”

Wanda’s eyes nearly pop out of her head as she sees herself on the computer screen monitoring the live stream. “Ugh! I hate you!” She runs up the stairs feeling completely humiliated. You and Pietro break out laughing. You can't help but check out her ass as she storms off.

“Woah! Hey! What are you doing?” Pietro shouts because your character in the game is being attacked by a hoard of zombies.

“Shit!” You say as you quickly get back into the game. There are crude comments on the stream being left about Wanda and some comments of how they caught you checking her out. You don't notice them as you continue playing the game with Pietro.

••••

“Wanda! Hurry up! We don't have all night!” You shout down the hall. The house you lived in with the twins had four bedrooms and two bathrooms on the main level. It was a small off campus house. There used to be a fourth roommate. She's still Wanda’s best friend but she moved out. You couldn't remember why. Wanda runs out of the bathroom in a little black dress with her hair and makeup done. She usually didn't do this much when going out and her look made you do a double take. This was not the Wanda you grew up with. And you couldn't tell if you liked it or not.

“Alright, let's go,” she says as she walks past you.

“Woah, you're going out like that? Where are you going to put your wallet or your phone? You can't leave like that,” you say as you catch up to her.

Wanda shrugs with a sultry smile, “Do you have a problem with the way I look?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” you state. “I think you're setting women back a hundred years and quite frankly, I find it offensive.”

Wanda makes a “really” face and scoffs. “Ah so you're a feminist today?” She shakes her head as she opens the front door. “You're such a hey mama sometimes.”

You roll your eyes, you hate being called that. “Why did anyone ever think there needed to be a lesbian version of fuckboi?” You groan as you follow her out the door.

“Will you ladies hurry! I'm not trying to get my rating down because you two take ages to get ready!” Pietro grouches from the backseat of the Uber. He hands the driver a hundred dollar bill to avoid a rating lower than five stars. You lock the front door before you climb into the car with the twins. “You're going out like that?” Pietro asks his sister. “You never go out like that.”

“That's what I'm saying!” You throw your hands up.

“Good for you sis,” Pietro holds his fist of for Wanda to bump. She does so with a laugh. “I hope you feel comfortable and confident because you look great.”

You make noises to express your shock with your mouth open. Wanda smiles at you and puts her fingers under your chin. “Close your mouth, don't want to catch any bugs.”

You clamp your mouth shut and narrow your eyes at her. “I'm not paying for your drinks.”

Wanda shrugs and slips her hand away from you. “I never asked you to.”

“Will you two stop bickering? We're supposed to have fun tonight. So let's just have fun,” Pietro says.

“P, we have been friends since we were five years old. Wanda and I have been enemies for the same length of time. You're still not used to this? It's the dynamic,” you defend yourself. Wanda agrees with you. “See?”

Pietro shakes his head. “It's gotten old. I thought that living together the two of you would at least try to get along.” He crosses his arms over his chest as he grows upset. “But no, all you two ever want to do is fight. It's exhausting living with you.”

“Ooh, I think he's really mad,” Wanda mutters as she looks between you and her brother. Neither of you take him serious and the both of you bust out laughing

Pietro glares at the both of you. “Excuse me, Happy? Do you mind pulling over just up ahead?” The Uber driver pulls over and stalls the car. “Both of you, out,” Pietro says with a fed up tone. You look at him like he's crazy but he doesn't let it go. You and Wanda start to apologize but in doing so, you two start arguing over whose fault it is. So you both exit the car and he takes the Uber the rest of the way to the party.

“Unbelievable,” you mumble as you shake your head. “You couldn't have just not been so irritating for once?” You gesture, frustrated with her and with the situation.

“Me?” Wanda is offended by the accusation and lack of accountability. “You're the one who wouldn't shut up about my outfit. Which by the way, I don't understand why it bothers you so damn much. It's not any different from what the girls who catch your eye wear!”

“Is that what you're trying to do, Wanda?” You ask, annoyed with the implication that you are as simple minded as any guy. If only she knew how you really felt about her. But you couldn't do that to your best friend. You wouldn't.

“Gross, don't think so highly of yourself,” her face is convincingly disgusted but deep down the answer is yes. “I'm just tired of being overlooked! I'm hot dammit and tonight, I'm finally going to get laid!” Wanda starts walking in the direction of the fraternity where the party was being hosted.

You jog to catch up with her, “Wanda, you can't be serious. You’re not that type of girl.”

“What makes you so sure that I'm not? I can be any type of girl I want to be,” she fires back stubbornly. “Tonight, I'm going to be like you.”

“Fine, whatever,” you say, annoyed that she'd use your actions against you. “Just be careful. There are a lot of guys who won't think twice about taking advantage of you.”

“Oh, is that what you do to the girls that dress like this?” She retorts.

You shake your head, hurt by the accusation. “That’s low, even for you. Look, all I was trying to do was prepare you. But you don't want my help. Fine.” You walk a bit faster than her to create a distance between the two of you. Wanda feels stupid for the comment but she doesn't apologize. She just keeps the distance between the two of you as you guys walk to the party.

••••

You are talking with Natasha, Wanda’s best friend, with a flirtatious smirk. She looked like she was on a mission to get someone's attention and though you doubt it was yours, she had it. “Hey, why did you move out? We could have had so much fun together,” you say as you play with her hair.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “We had our fun and then you proceeded to treat me like I never existed to you. Yeah, no thank you.”

You pout, “Oh come on, are you still upset about that? I'm not the commiting type. You know that.” You put your hand on the wall above her head, somewhat trapping her between you and the wall. Your bicep flexes and you catch her ogling you. That gives you the upper hand and you smirk. “If I remember correctly, that's all you wanted because you were trying to get over that Maria chick.” You lean in close and whisper, “I believe I cleared your mind of her for hours that night.”

Natasha shivers at the memory and almost kisses you. But she clears her throat and steps away from you. “No one likes being treated like they're invisible. No matter what the circumstances are,” she says before she walks away.

You frown and shake your head. You look around the room and find Wanda chatting with her friend Carol. You smirk as you recall being able to convince her to join you for a sleepover more than once. You walk over to them with intentions to get Carol to walk away with you. “Hey,” you start as you approach.

“Nope,” Carol walks away from you and Wanda and you frown.

“Damn, two strikes in less than ten minutes. What's wrong with my game?” You ask yourself out loud then you take a sip from your cup.

“They made a pact against you,” Wanda says over the loud music. You make a face, thrown off by the news. “You can't keep sleeping with my friends. They're done with you and your hey mama ways.”

You groan at the term. “Will you stop calling me that?”

“Sure,” Wanda says simply. “Just stop being one,” she walks away before you can start an argument. You start to look around the party to find someone you haven't slept with that you think you have a shot with. But it was slim pickings. You sighed as you feared that it would just be you and your fleshlight tonight.

••••

As you make your way through the house, you hear some commotion. Instead of ignoring it, you search for the source. “Stop,” Wanda says as a guy pulls her onto his lap. She swats at his hands as he tries to slip them up her dress.

“Come on baby,” the guy says, “you know you want this.” He doesn't let up and puts his hands on her breasts.

You burst through the room and pull Wanda off of him. “Get away from her!”

“Woah chill,” the guy holds his hands up. “We were just having some fun.”

You raise your fist In disgust and Wanda catches you. “Y/n! Cut it out!” You turn around, astonished that even when you defend her she's annoyed with you. “He wasn't doing anything I didn't want,” she says.

You scowl, “Don't defend him! I heard you tell him to stop!”

“He was tickling me, you know how much I hate that,” she raises her voice to match your level.

“I'm just going to go,” the guy says awkwardly.

“You stay,” she points to the guy. “You go,” she points at you.

“No, I'm not leaving you with this guy,” you state stubbornly.

“Get out!” She says as she tries to push you away. “Why do you have to ruin everything for me?”

You don't know what comes over you when you pull her in and plant your lips against yours. She breaks away from your kiss and smacks you across the face. You both stare at each other in shock then she grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pulls you in for another kiss. This one is a lot more aggressive than the previous.

“Now is the time for me to go,” the guy says as he slips out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You and Wanda are too lost in each other to care.

She starts to unbutton your shirt and you're surprised that she is being so assertive. You walk backwards until you fall onto the couch with your lips still attached to hers. She straddles your hips while kissing you. Her teeth clamp down on your bottom lip and you groan in pleasure. You put your hands on her ass and boldly give her right cheek a light smack. She yelps, “No, don't do that.”

“Okay,” you say just before kissing her again. For years you've refrained from doing this. Every time you had the urge, you redirected your attention to one of her friends. Each of them had a few traits that reminded you of Wanda. It felt like since you couldn't have the real her, you could settle for pieces that reminded you of her. Now that you have her, you don't think you could ever go back to before this.

“Do you have a condom on you?” Wanda asks as she rolls her hips on your bulging member.

“Yeah,” you say as if the answer was obvious. You pull out your wallet from your pocket and fish out the prophylactic. Wanda dips her hand between her legs and you thought she was adjusting her underwear but instead she was unzipping your fly. You jump a little when she slips her hand through your boxers and pulls your cock through the hole. You moan as you finally feel her stroke you after years of fantasizing about the day her hand would touch your cock for the first time. You almost cum right then and there.

“Let me see that,” Wanda says as she takes the package from your hand. She tears it open and delicately pulls the condom onto your hard cock.

You slip your fingers up before dress and lick your lips in anticipation to find out what kind of underwear she has on. But as you do, you graze her in a way that makes her squirm. “Stop, I said I don't like tickling,” she scolds.

“I wasn't trying to tickle you. I was trying to pull your panties down,” you state.

Wanda smirks and leans in close to whisper in your ear, “I haven't worn any all night.” Your hips jerk up in response and it makes her giggle. You pull her into another passionate kiss. Hoping to convey everything you feel towards her in the kiss without having to talk about it.

As she kisses you back, she hovers her pussy over your cock and passes the tip of your penis through her folds as she blindly aligns you with her entrance. The feeling of her warm pussy lips against your sensitive tip has your hips rolling instinctively. And you enter her. “Oh fuck! Geez you're so impatient,” Wanda snaps at you.

You chuckle as you start nibbling on her ear lobe. “I can take it slow but,” you push your cock further into her and grunt from the pleasure. “We don't have too long here. You want slow,” you lift her up by her ass to give you room to thrust into her. “Sneak into my room one of these nights. I'll show you a good time for a long time.”

Wanda moans as you thrust your thick dick into her. “Mmm, should I take that as an invitation? Or are you just,” her mouth opens in a gasp as you start to rub her cliterous. Your lips move about the sweaty skin of her exposed chest. Her taste has you feeling more intoxicated than any drop of alcohol ever has.

“It's an invitation,” you whisper against her neck. “You just have to keep quiet.”

“Oh sure you tell me to be quiet but when it comes to every other girl,” Wanda gripes, recalling past arguments of asking you to keep things quiet at night whenever you had a girl in your room. Especially when it was one of her close friends.

“They're not, mph, my best friend's sister,” you moan as Wanda's walls squeeze your dick. “Unless you want Pietro to hear,” Wanda covers your mouth with her hand making you laugh. She joins you in laughing and you stop moving, she sits on your lap with your dick inside of her while the two of you laugh. Wanda removes her hand from your mouth and gazes into your eyes for a moment. She knows that slow isn't the pace you go. She knows that this could be the only time she has your attention. She is grateful for this moment because she can believe that you love her. She can tell herself that this is more than what it is, even though she won't believe it tomorrow.

You get lost in her eyes and in the heat of the moment. You almost confess everything you've been dying to tell her for years. You can feel it on the tip of your tongue as you gaze into her hazel eyes. You don't say anything and hope that your actions speak for themselves. You pull out of her and sit her next to you on the couch. You don't have much time because you don't know what Pietro is up to and the chances of him walking into this room are too high. You do want to have a chance to take your time with her. You have to give her a reason to come to your room.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks as she watches you pull the condom off and put your erection back into your pants. “Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head. “Since when have you cared if you’ve done something wrong?” You ask as you get on your knees in front of her. Her curious eyes follow your hands as they force her dress up, causing the tight fabric tear in order to get it over her ass. You pull her closer to you by her thighs. “You didn't do anything wrong, but I need to get you finished off so we can get out of here before we're missed.” You explain as you trail kisses along her thighs.

“Oh,” she gasps out, “Wha-wha-what about yyou?” She stutters as you begin to lick her sensitive pussy.

You smirk and lean back slightly to look up at her, “You've never worried about me before. Don't start now,” you wink at her before you return your focus to devouring her. She tangles her fingers in your hair to keep you close as your tongue enters her. You eat her out like she's the last meal you'll have on earth. If she was, you wouldn't mind one bit. Her hips gyrate as she starts to ride your face. She moans as you expertly move your tongue around, humming a song to make your tongue vibrate.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Wanda cries out as you please her in ways she didn't know possible. You're not the first person to go down on her. But you are the first person to make it enjoyable. So much so that when she reaches her climax, her whole body is shaking for a few minutes. Her pussy twitches as you lick up as much of her juices as you can. You pull away from her and smile at her with your face glistening from her arousal. She giggles as she pulls you up and licks her juices from your face. You groan from how much the action has turned you on. Then she kisses your lips.

“Now it's your turn,” she tries to pull you closer with her hand on your crotch without breaking from the kiss too much.

You smile as you pull away completely, “You'll have to thank me later.” You straighten yourself out and help her fix herself up a bit. She laughs at the red lipstick stains that she left behind on your face and chest.

“You might want to sneak into a bathroom,” she suggests with a smile.

“Good idea,” you nod at her. “I guess I'll see you at home then,” you say as you walk out of the room.

••••

You are sleeping when Wanda slips into your room. You don't sleep in pajamas and this is how she finds out. You're naked when she lifts the covers. She quickly drops the blanket. Startled by the sight at first. She shakes her head, embarrassed by her own reaction. You were inside of her a few hours ago and she slipped into the room with the intention of pleasuring your body. But it's different. She hadn't seen your body until now. Other than flashes from the years she's known you.

She takes a deep breath and lifts the blanket again. Her eyes widen at your size and she's surprised you fit inside of her. You weren't even hard yet. You twitch in your sleep and that causes something next to your leg to fall. She catches it before it hits the floor because she doesn't want you to wake up yet. She looks at it and realizes that it's a fake pussy.

She had no idea that you owned a flashlight. Your cum leaks out of it and she feels herself grow aroused by the idea of being pumped full of your cum. She gulps, surprised by herself. She has never wanted to be someone’s cum dump before but the idea of being yours has her growing hot and bothered.

She keeps the toy in her hand and climbs on the bed. She straddles your legs and starts by licking the length of your cock. It starts to come to life while you continue to sleep. She wonders what you could be dreaming about while she wraps her lips around the head of your penis. She licks and sucks on the sensitive area, trying to wake you up at this point. You thrust your hips up, pushing more of your cock into her mouth but you don't open your eyes or show any other sign of consciousness.

She had no idea that you were such a heavy sleeper. Wanda starts to bob her head up and down on your cock, getting you to stiffen up more. She couldn't believe how much this scandalous act was turning her on. She stops sucking on your cock and shoves it inside of the fleshlight.

Wanda uses the toy to jerk you off. “Fuck, Wanda,” you mutter in your sleep. She is flattered that you're dreaming about her. But she doesn't get too caught up in an idea that it might mean anything other than just sexual attraction.

Wanda giggles as she gets an idea. She crawls up to your ear as she continues to use the toy on you. “Mmm, Y/n,” she moans into your ear. Instead, you smile with your eyes closed. “You're so big. You're bigger than anyone I've ever had. Oh yeah, oh yeah,” she pants and squeaks as much as she can in order to get you to wake up. It isn't until she starts kissing your neck that you startle awake.

“Woah!” You shoot up in the bed and look down to see Wanda’s hand wrapped around the chunky base of your fleshlight. “Woah,” you repeat in a calmer tone as you look over at Wanda. She is blushing. You lay back down with your arms behind your head with your head turned to her. Watching her as she continues to pump your dick. “I'm surprised to see you here.”

Wanda shrugs as if it's suddenly not a big deal. “Eh, I owed you one. I figured that the faster I repay you, the better.”

You chuckle softly. “You do realize that I wouldn't have ever asked you to return the favor?”

“No,” Wanda answers shyly. She stops moving her hand. “Are you saying I should stop?”

You put your hand over hers and start moving the toy again as you maintain eye contact. “Now why would I ever say that?” You lean in and kiss her lips. The kiss is aggressive as you hold her hand still and start thrusting into the toy. Fucking it as hard as you want to be fucking her. “I'm surprised you went with the toy,” you say when you break the kiss.

“I wasn't sure where you kept your condoms and,” she looks over at your bedroom door nervously. “And I don't want to risk Pietro finding out just how loud I can get when the sex is good.”

You chuckle, taking her caution as a compliment. “My condoms are in the drawer by the bed. But you were smart not to look for them because, mmph, you were quite a screamer earlier.”

“Shut up,” she says as she starts to move the pocket pussy faster. She wants to make you cum so badly at this point. “Damn, do you always last this long?” She complains as her hand starts to get tired. She moves back to her position of straddling your lap so that she can use both hands.

“You say that as if it's a bad thing,” you snort as you watch her struggle.

“It is when I have work in the morning,” she complains again. “I should have known your dick would be as annoying as you are.”

“Is it my dick or is it because I'm picturing your grandma that one summer that she wore that one bathing suit-”

“Gross! You're thinking about that?” She makes a face and you laugh.

“It's an old trick, otherwise I'd cum before anyone I ever slept with.”

“Well, can you stop thinking about her and just focus on me?”

You smirk as you sit up. You lift Wanda slightly by her ass so that her chest is in your face. “May I?” You ask, pointing at her chest. She nods her head as she watches you.

You pull her oversized sleep shirt over your head. You kiss up her stomach until you reach her breasts. With your eyes closed your body can't tell the difference between the toy and a real pussy. Especially when you have Wanda's real breast in your mouth. With a couple of rigid thrusts you cum inside of the toy and groan against Wanda’s chest.

You give her breasts each a soft kiss before removing your head from under her shirt.

“Happy now?” You ask as you lay breathlessly against your mattress.

“No,” she groans uncomfortably. “Now I'm too turned on.” You shake your head and roll your eyes.

You climb out of your bed and pull the toy off of your softening dick. You go into your closet and pull out the promotional box that Adam & Eve sent you so that you could endorse their brand and their products. You pull out one of the many new vibrators. It's still in its packaging. “Here,” you say as you hand her the box. “Take this and get out. I'm tired and I don't want your brother to hear you.”

“He's here?”

“Yeah, I helped him get into his bed. So just take this and go.”

“Thanks I guess,” Wanda laughs to herself. “Geez I didn't realize your room was a sex shop.”

“The beauty of influencing. You get free shit and all you have to do is look pretty online,” you hop back into your bed.

“Thank you for this, um goodnight,” she kisses you on the lips one more time before crawling out of your bed and leaving your room.

You sigh happily as you go to sleep, excited for what this might open up for your future relationship with Wanda.

[lunavelha]

Come Back, be here.

Paring : Laxus Dreyar x f!reader.

Word Count : 3381.

Contains : Explicit content, beginning of smut, thigh riding. Minors DNI.

My note : English is not my main tongue, and i do not have any beta reader, so sorry if I have made any mistake ! Also, it was supposed to be longer, but I didn’t wrote a smut for such a long time that I stopped it before. I hope you can still enjoy it tho’ !

Be careful spoiler of tenor arc /!\

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7 years. 7 long years had passed, so much pain had been caused by the disappearance of her friends, since he had disappeared. She hadn't had a chance to speak with him after he'd been exiled from the guild, and unfortunately, the last words they'd exchanged had been words of anger. It had started out as a small argument, but in just a few minutes it had grown into something much bigger.

Ever since that day, (y/n) had been replaying her own words over and over in her mind. She told herself that she could have understood his point of view better, that she shouldn't have been so mean or defensive, that she could have asked him to talk, to sit down, or at least to separate for a few minutes until he calmed down. (Y/n) now had to carry the guilt on her shoulders, now that he was gone, she would never have the chance to make amends.

She had needed to get as far away from the guild as possible, everything reminded her of Laxus, his place at the bar, the table where he usually sat with the Thunder God Tribe, or even just her house. His scent was still in the sheets, his clothes were still in the wardrobe. She'd never found the courage to take them off, she didn't want to lose him again. (Y/n) still had a small part of hope inside her that he wasn't dead after all, that he'd turn up on her doorstep and everything would go back to the way it was before. But she knew it was a lost cause, something she dreamt about every night.

And then one fine morning, Lamia Scale was there, saying that at last there might still be some realistic hope. The energy at the island hadn't completely disappeared, and was slowly building up again after all these years. (Y/n) had simply let her gaze wander to the horizon, but what if it wasn't true? Perhaps the magic really was returning to this place, but without giving their friends a chance of survival. The young woman had refused to go on an adventure with the others, but she could see that some of them were terribly happy, especially the members of Shadow Gear. She had no right to let her feelings get the better of her too, she had to keep a cold head, keep her hopes deep in her heart, and above all, not let anyone see it.

"-You can go home, it's possible they'll be back tomorrow, there's no real point in spending the night here. When they're back, don't worry, you'll know." Macao said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"-I...I don't even know why I'm still here. Every time they leave, we end up disappointed... If you only knew how much I want it to be the right one, for them to suddenly walk through the door, for Gray to strip, for Natsu to start fighting him, for Erza to try and separate them so that her cake gets destroyed, and for her to finally join in the fight too. And Laxus... Even if he came back, could he come back to the guild? Would he want to talk to me..." She looked at the guild leader, before shaking her head. "-I'm just at my breaking point sometimes."

"-Go get some rest, you're back from a mission. But we're here, we can support you, okay? Whether it's tomorrow, or even for years, we're with you. One day we'll understand, one day I'm sure we'll find them." He nodded to her towards the door. "-I'll walk you out, Romeo's still outside, you know how he's been since..."

"-He lost Natsu, we all know how much he admires him. He's like me on this one, too much hope ends up hurting, he's protecting himself."

Macao and (y/n) left the guild, walking through the streets of Magnolia. The young woman looked around, trying to find Romeo, it was a way for her not to think about what was going to happen in the next few hours at least. Once at Magnolia South Park, (y/n) noticed Romeo sitting against the tree, looking around. He too didn't want to get his hopes up. Telling Macao that she could finish on her own, she left him to go and talk to his son.

The young woman arrived home a few minutes later, and sat down on her sofa, looking in front of her, where on the small table was a drawing of the Thunder God Tribe, a gift from Reader. 

The only thing she could do now was wait, and above all, hope to see her lifelong love alive again.

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Hours had passed without any real news. (y/n) finally got up and stood in front of the window, trying to see someone from the guild approaching. But no one came. When there was a sudden knock on the door, she frowned, wondering who it could be, and went straight to open it.

Behind her was Bisca, a slight smile on her face. It was surprising, since she hadn't seen her coming from the guild, perhaps she came here from the boat?

"-I figured you'd be here." She smiled at him, "-Come on, let's get back to the guild."

"-If you're here it's to say something, no need to leave to do so."

"-I'm not saying anything until we get back to the guild. Take your jacket or don't, but I'm not waiting for you."

The woman leaves her house, letting (y/n) stand here for a few seconds, wondering what she should do. She knew that she would be disappointed at the end, that they didn’t find anyone. But… what if ? What if he has come back ? Having finally made her decision, she left her house, barely taking the time to lock her front door. Bisca hadn't waited for her, and had already started on her way to the guild. (Y/n) had to run to catch up with her, coming to her side without saying a word.

A lump of anxiety had filled her stomach, and she could feel it growing as they walked. 

After a few minutes, she stopped, hearing much more noise than usual coming from the guild. (Y/n) looked at Bisca, as if to ask if she was dreaming. So much noise could only mean one thing. A Fairy Tail party. A celebration. And so, the return of their companions, their friends, their family. The woman smiled gently at her, nodding. That was enough for (y/n) to start running, her heart beating so fast she could hear it in her ears. She didn't waste a second opening the door of the guild, discovering all those they had lost 7 years ago, all those they had mourned, cried.

And suddenly, in front of his eyes, was Natsu ruffling Romeo's hair, like a big brother would. Macao with Mirajane and Makarov chatting at the bar, probably making up for lost time. Erza with a slice of strawberry cake, while being with Alzack. Levy surrounded by Jet and Droy, crying non-stop as she tries to reassure them. Gildarts and Cana were at a table, a beer in front of each of them. Lisanna, Elfman, Lucy, Wendy, Gray, Juvia, Gajeel... Everyone was finally back.

She entered the room, attracting stares from her friends, but each of them said nothing - they knew who she was looking for. She too had the right to find him without being interrupted. Her gaze fell on his blond hair, and her eyes softened as tears quickly filled her eyes. Laxus turned around after Fried nudged him lightly, pointing to the young woman with a shake of his head.

Laxus rose from the bar, his gaze meeting the eyes of the woman he loved, the woman who had never really left his thoughts, the woman he had thought of directly when he woke up on this island. He was the first to move forward, realising that she must still be in a state of shock. 

When he reached her level, he looked her up and down, realising that he had not kept his promise to always be there for her. For years she had been alone, she had suffered, she had probably had to fight. And he had simply disappeared from the face of the earth thanks to the Fairy Sphere. It was their only means of survival, and yet he blamed himself. Of course, Acnologia's arrival was not his fault, or that of anyone else in the guild, but he regretted his past actions. He'd been so blinded by it that he'd forgotten that behind it all, once the doors were closed, there was someone who loved him.

His hand rose to rest tenderly on her cheek, never taking his eyes off her for a second. He was trying to communicate his endless love for her, words had never really been his forte, but at this moment, he promised himself he would make an effort. She deserved it, she deserved all the happiness in the world, and Laxus wanted to be part of her happiness, he wanted to make her smile every morning when he kissed her, when he told her he loved her.

“-Laxus…” She whispers in a trembling voice.

“-I’m here now my love, I will never leave you again. I swear.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb, smiling. “-I’m sorry for everything that happened in the past, I will make up to you, we will be happy if you still want us to be together.”

“-Of course I want us, I never even thought about leaving you. Now that you are here again, you are stuck with me.” She let out a small laugh, although you could hear the emotion in her voice.

The blond smiled at her tenderly, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, holding her against him as a few tears escaped from her eyes. The guild members around them looked on in delight. Makarov, the master, well, the former master, was happy to see his grandson reunited with the woman who loved him. Of course, he still couldn't understand how Laxus could have strayed from the straight and narrow by having someone like (y/n) by his side, but the main thing was that now, he wasn't just interested in possessing power. 

Surprisingly, even Natsu hadn't said anything, he hadn't intervened to ask (y/n) to fight him, or Laxus. He'd realised that this wasn't the time, and it was one of the rare occasions when he finally understood the need not to be interrupted. Gray had done the same, not yet trying to provoke the pink-haired one, after all he could wait.

Once the reunion at the guild centre was over, (y/n) and Laxus headed towards the Thunder God Tribe to have a little more privacy. The young woman smiled at Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen; she'd had time to really get to know them since she was a child, but also in a different way as Laxus's girlfriend. Once the blond was seated, he pulled her closer to him, making her sit on his lap, putting a firm arm around her waist to hold her against his body.

“-You’re coming back to the guild right ?” She whispers to his only attention, looking at him expectantly.

“-I don’t know yet baby, for the moment I’m just happy to be here. I will speak to gramps later.”

“-Then you’re still living with me, I have your stuff in my closet.”

“-Of course, even if I didn’t want to, you would have kidnapped me, you little minx.”

The couple started to laugh, happy to finally be back together after so many years. She did not let him go, keeping her arms around him.

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For the rest of the night, (y/n) stayed with Laxus, her face against his chest, finally complete again. The guild had slowly begun to empty, with those who had lodgings outside leaving to join him. The young woman couldn't help but feel sorry for her friends, as when they had disappeared, the guild had managed to pay some of the rent so that their debts weren't too high, but over the last 4 years, this had become totally impossible. Missions had become rarer and rarer, guide members were leaving, and the worst was during the Grand Magic Games. The guild's reputation had been destroyed in such a short space of time. 

Laxus drew her attention by gently kissing her cheek, making her lift her face towards him so that she could meet his gaze. There was so much love in his eyes that (y/n) thought she might start crying again just from that.

"I love you.” She said softly, placing a hand on his jaw. "And I missed you terribly."

"I love you too". He grabs her hand and places a kiss on it. "Let's go home, shall we? I need to be forgiven.”

There was something in his gaze that instantly lit a flame in (y/n). It was a look she could recognise at any moment, something she could never forget. And it told her that her night was not about to end. The woman agreed, rising first, followed by Laxus, who wasted no time in taking her hand and pulling her out of the guild.

The walk to their shared flat seemed to last an eternity, with Laxus's firm hand still in hers, leading the way at a quick pace. He didn't even take a second to look around, the only thing that mattered to him at the moment was (y/n). He had never felt the need to be close to her so strongly, the need to kiss her, to show her his love, to prove to her that he had come back and that he would never leave her alone again.

No sooner had they entered their flat than Laxus pushed her against the door, pressing his lips directly against hers in a passionate, fiery kiss. The couple knew that if they had kissed in the guild, they would have ended up putting on a show that their friends would not have wanted to see. And all that tension was being released as the two came to lose themselves in each other's arms. 

"-If you only knew how much I'd missed your lips." He said between kisses, his voice having suddenly become deeper, his hands had begun to venture down her body, reaching under her T-shirt to caress the soft skin of her stomach. "-I missed your body, your skin, your voice, everything about you."

"-Laxus..." She intervenes in a low voice, meeting his gaze. "-I need you so much, please." Her voice became more plaintive, almost begging.

“-I know baby, but you gotta wait.” He replied softly, continuing to kiss her.

They kissed again, Laxus gently running his tongue over her lips before nibbling her bottom lip. At his movement, (y/n) let out a plaintive moan. Between her thighs, she could already feel the moisture building up, and only the desire to see the blond man take care of it filled her mind. However, he seemed determined to discover her body again, as if it were their first time. (Y/n) came and put his arms around her shoulders, bringing him even closer to her. She could feel a lump forming against her, but knew better than to say anything to him, the tension had to be built up, they both had to get closer to the edge, the better they would fall.

The blonde only broke the kiss for a few seconds, just long enough to look at his girlfriend, her eyes slightly moist, filled with passion and desire. A desire that only he was capable of satisfying. This thought only excited him even more, and he came back to kiss her fiercely, removing his own jacket at the same time and letting it fall to their feet. (y/n)'s jacket joined it only moments later. 

Their body temperature seemed to have risen a hundred degrees in just a few minutes, and all it took was one kiss to fill them with excitement.

The couple began to explore each other's bodies over the top of their clothes, and Laxus was the first to put his hands under her top again to touch her body. Sensing (y/n)'s curves, he broke the kiss they were sharing, nibbling her neck to put a few love marks on it, leaving his mark, showing everyone that she was his, and his alone. 

“-Such a good girl for me, so sweet, so soft.” His deep voice sent shivers down (y/n)'s spine, making her close her eyes as she looked forward to the next step.

“-Please, please, I’ll be good for you, but please, just touch me already.”

He clicked his tongue lightly, shaking his head as he looked at her disapprovingly. Slowly, he raised a hand, catching her jaw.

"I taught you to be patient, have you forgotten everything already? It's all right, we'll start again from the beginning."

Laxus looked at her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. He intended to take his time, of course, but he could only understand her desire, her needs. The blond was going to tease her, but in the end, she would be the one to have the last word.

(Y/n) smiled softly, she could feel that he wanted to touch her as much as she did, and yet he held back. The blond returned to kiss her neck just after he had removed her T-shirt, revealing her bra, and using one of his hands, he untied the last piece of clothing, leaving her breasts for him to see alone. Laxus turned his gaze to it, placing one of her breasts in his hand, taking her nipple between two fingers and beginning to touch it. As for the second, he took it into his mouth, sucking gently. The young woman quickly began to moan, throwing her head back against the front door. 

She had waited so long to feel his touch, to feel the pleasure that only he could make her feel for 7 years, 7 long years. Laxus was a desperate man, he wanted to see her face contort with pleasure, so he came to torture her chest, coming to knead her breasts one after the other. 

(y/n) felt her body getting hotter and hotter, the fire completely overwhelming her at the sensation Laxus was making her feel. The blond looked up at her, before slowly moving his second hand down to his trousers, unzipping them. She didn't waste another second sliding them down his legs. He pulled his mouth away from her, putting his arms around her waist to carry her. 

Quickly, he took the common path to the bedroom, before sitting on the edge of the bed, leaving her on his lap. She came to kiss him, putting her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed against his chest.

Laxus's hands came to rest on her buttocks as he quickly devoured her lips. Their tongues began a dance together, both with their eyes closed, and both craving each other more and more. The blond came to move her against him, and the young woman moaned into his mouth as she felt her humidity rub against the blond's trousers, giving him a much-needed rub for his crotch.

“-Go ahead baby, come on, use me.”

(y/n) didn't hesitate, starting to accelerate against him. Laxus's fingers became firmer on her buttocks, helping her with her movements. He didn't waste a second of the show, his face concentrated on hers, watching her eyebrows furrow with pleasure, her eyes close as soon as one of the rubbing strokes touched her clitoris particularly well, her half-open mouth letting out moans of pleasure.

“-I know you’re getting closer, baby girl. Does it feel good ? Do you like using my legs for your little pleasure ? We have the entire night for it, you have no idea of how much orgasm I will give you.”

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©Lunavelha

Do not repost somewhere else, do not translate, or use in any way.

[fanficsat12am]

The Prince and the Handmaiden

Born of blood and forbidden longing, the red anemone blooms in Ithaca—this time within a handmaiden who was never meant to love a crown-bound prince. wc: 2.7k warnings: mentions of hanahaki disease, blood and death credits of the art goes to the wonderful @duvetbox and thank you once again to @saradika-graphics for the dividers ❤️

Telemachus pulls you along by the hand, his hold tightening as you both take another turn in the winding forest. You duck, narrowly missing a branch to the face.

“My prince, where are we going? Your mother will be worried sick!” Despite your words, his pace doesn’t falter.

“We're almost there! Just a bit more” he calls over his shoulder, breath hitching with excitement.

You were a bit hesitant when the young prince eagerly came to you as you were about to clean the queen’s quarters. You had lived within the palace walls for as long as you could remember, having helped your mother tend to the queen as chief handmaiden before her passing. From an early age, you had grown familiar with the Prince of Ithaca, watching from afar as he grew from a boy into the man he was today. He was kind—always offering you a smile when your paths crossed, never failing to greet you warmly. Often, you would sneak glances at him, and sometimes, you caught him staring back at you.

As one of the queen’s loyal handmaidens, you knew your duties came first. But with that all-too-familiar spark in his eyes, how could you bring yourself to refuse him? And so, here you are now, weaving through trees and vines, chasing a secret destination he has yet to reveal.

He suddenly halts, letting out a soft grunt as you bump into the back of his chlamys.

“We’re here…” he heaves, a little breathless.

You peek over his shoulder and gasp. In front of you lies a field of red anemones, blooming wild from edge to edge. You walk closer and watch as they sway with the wind, as if dancing just for the two of you. Kneeling down, you take one into your hands, admiring its delicate petals.

“It’s beautiful, My lord,” you whisper, awestruck.

The boy grins, “Please, Telemachus will suffice” he says, settling onto the grass. “I found it by chance. The world was too loud… I came here seeking stillness. But when I saw the flowers, I thought—what is beauty, if not shared?” 

He pats the ground beside him, beckoning you to sit. You pause, still uncertain, but your feet move before your mind can protest. For a moment, you both sit in silence, relishing the cold breath of the wind and the hush of leaves overhead.

The sunset’s glow falls upon you and only now do you truly take in the boy's form. He was carved in the shape of kings and wanderers — sun-warmed skin, dark curls tousled by salt winds, and eyes that held both storms and gentleness. To look at him too long was to forget yourself. 

“My apologies for taking you away from the palace, Despoina (Y/N). I promise I shall speak with my mother, should she grow concerned. I simply… wished for a moment for us, away from watchful eyes and endless duties.”

You gasp softly. “There is no need for such titles, Prince Telemachus. It is of too much regard for a handmaiden such as myself. And it is my honour and purpose to serve the crown… including the one who may one day wear it.

A small laugh slips from the prince’s lips. “My mother taught me to see all as equals. You see yourself as only my mother’s handmaiden, to me you are the closest thing I have to a friend.”

You toy with the hem of your chiton, fingers restless as the hush returns between you.

After a beat, he speaks again, quieter this time—like he’s not just talking to you, but letting something slip out of him.

“You have a habit, I’ve noticed — when your mind wanders, your fingers weave and tug at the very hem where the thread begins to fray.”

Your fingers still. You blink.

He notices.

“Forgive me,” he says, a little sheepish now. “I didn't mean to…”

You shake your head slowly. “I just didn’t think…”

“That I noticed?” he finishes.

Your breath catches.

“You were always there,” he says, eyes fixed not on the flowers, but on you. “At my mother’s side. Quiet. Graceful. But not unseen.”

He plucks a red anemone, twirling the stem slowly between his fingers.

“You’d smile at the younger girls when they were afraid. You’d smooth the queen’s cloak before she entered the hall. I watched you carry more weight than any girl should have to. And still… you never faltered.”

His voice is barely above a whisper now. 

“We are two souls born of the same loom, merely woven on opposite ends”

The breeze catches your hair and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

“I did not think my name was known to you,” you murmur, voice fragile like the petal he holds.

He looks at you then with a small smile, eyes lit like the fading sky.

“You are like a candle in a dark room. Not loud, but impossible to ignore…”

You felt your cheeks grow warm, breaking your gaze. 

“It’s growing dark. We should get back to the palace” Rising and brushing the grass from his chlamys, he offers you his hand, palm open, gentle.

You hesitate just a breath, then place your hand in his. His fingers curl around yours—not tight, but warm. Familiar. As if this wasn’t the first time… and wouldn’t be the last.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you murmur as he pulls you up, your voice barely above the rustle of the wind.

He holds your gaze for a second too long.

You look away, heart thudding.

As the two of you walk back through the forest path, your fingers brush now and then—but neither of you pulls away.

From then on, your newfound friendship with the prince began to blossom. What once were fleeting smiles and polite greetings soon turned into quiet conversations and shared glances across the corridors. His presence seemed to make even the dullest of days feel sun-touched, and his laughter—light and unguarded—often chased the gloom from your thoughts.

The other handmaidens had begun to take notice. Whispers followed you through the halls—soft, teasing remarks about how the prince’s gaze lingered a little too long when you entered a room, or how he always seemed to find you no matter how busy the palace became. You brushed them off with a shy smile and returned to your duties, unwilling to feed into something that could never truly be yours.

You knew your place. A handmaiden—no matter how loyal, no matter how kind—would never stand beside the Prince of Ithaca. And yet, something about him continued to draw you in. Perhaps it was the way he spoke your name like it was a secret he wanted to keep, or the way his touch, light as it was, would linger a heartbeat longer than it needed to. You told yourself it meant nothing. You tried to believe it.

But your heart betrayed you.

It leapt at the sound of his voice. It ached in his absence. And with every tender glance, every brush of fingers, the feeling inside you grew—sweet, painful, and unspoken.

And then… came the cough.

At first, it was nothing. A tickle in your throat. A small irritation you blamed on the changing seasons or the dust from the linens. You swallowed it down, ignored the discomfort.

But it worsened.

The coughs grew deeper, more forceful, like your body was trying to rid itself of something it could not contain. There were moments when your breath caught, your chest tightened, and a strange, sharp ache settled beneath your ribs. You began to excuse yourself more often, hiding behind columns or ducking into empty chambers to recover in solitude.

When the first petal fell, you stared at it in your hand, heart thudding in your chest. You recognized it instantly—the red anemone, unmistakable with its brilliant scarlet hue fading into ghostly white at the tips. It was impossible. And yet, there it was, soft and trembling in your palm.

You didn’t dare tell anyone. Not yet.

Telemachus had started to worry. You saw it in the way his eyes followed you when you thought he wasn't looking, how his brow furrowed when you vanished from your usual place beside the queen. He’d noticed how you grew quieter, weaker—tasks you had once done with ease now left you breathless. Your once-bright eyes had dulled, and the warmth of your skin had paled to something almost fragile.

He had tried to ask, more than once. His voice soft, filled with that boyish concern he could never quite hide. But every time, you gave him the same gentle smile and turned away, pretending all was well.

But you knew it was far from the truth.

You had heard about it once, whispered from your mother’s lips like a ghost story. The Hanahaki. A curse borne of unspoken love so great that it could ill. It was said to be a punishment from Eros himself—a cruel trial where the heart bloomed flowers, and the lungs wept petals of longing. The deeper the feeling left unreturned, the more vicious the growth. Vines would creep along the rib cage, thorned and merciless, until at last it strangled the breath from the beloved.

Worst of all, no one had ever survived it; for no one knew the cure.

And so for months, you suffered in silence. Alone. You would retreat to the hidden corners of the palace—the abandoned garden shed, the far end of the servants’ courtyard, or the dry bathing rooms long out of use. Anywhere you could cough unnoticed, retching petal after petal, staining your palms with color and sorrow.

Sometimes it was only a few. Other times, it was full blossoms, slick with blood, clinging to your throat. Breathing began to feel like drowning in a sea of silk and thorns. Each breath a battle, each gasp a storm raging in your chest.

As Telemachus wandered the marble halls one late morning, he caught the sound of his mother’s voice drifting through the corridor. She was speaking with one of the handmaidens before dismissing her gently. Her eyes turned to him with a knowing smile.

“Telemachus,” she said warmly, “Have you seen (Y/N) today? It’s well past midday and I’ve yet to catch sight of her.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “N-no! I—I haven’t, why would you think that” he stammered, too quickly.

Penelope chuckled, shaking her head as she studied her son’s poorly concealed fluster.

“Don’t mistake me for a fool, my child,” she said softly. “I see how you look at her.”

Despite her calm expression, there was an edge to her voice—worry carefully veiled behind a mother’s grace. Telemachus could see it in her eyes. After all these years, (Y/N) had become more than a handmaiden to the queen. She was something closer. Like a daughter.

His brows knit together, a quiet storm of worry beginning to stir in his chest. Without wasting a moment, he scoured the palace from end to end, asking every handmaiden he passed if they had seen you. Each gave the same answer—a shake of the head, a look of uncertainty. No one knew where you had gone.

After hours of fruitless searching, a heavy truth settled in his gut: you were nowhere within the palace walls. That familiar fear crept in, curling cold around his heart.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of fire and rose, a thought dawned on him—one final place he hadn’t yet searched.

His feet carried him before his mind could catch up, retracing the path through the forest with frantic urgency. Leaves tore beneath his sandals, branches scraping against his arms as he pushed through the thicket. Then he saw it—a familiar flower, its crimson petals blooming defiantly against the green of the forest.

Red anemones.

He halted, eyes narrowing. Something was off. He knelt to inspect one closely, and his heart dropped.

A smear of deep red.

Blood.

He swore he could rival Hermes himself, for his body moved as if possessed by the wind god’s blessing. He sprinted through the trees, dodging brambles and roots, his heart thrumming like a war drum in his chest, panic clawing its way up his throat. The forest blurred around him.

And then—there you were.

Collapsed among the sea of flowers.

At first glance, he thought you might have been asleep. Peaceful, even. But then your body trembled with another fit of coughing, and he saw the blossoms—bloody, broken anemones strewn around you like a wreath of death.

“No…” he whispered, rushing to your side. He dropped to his knees, cradling your head in his lap, staring in horror at the blood that painted your lips, the petals clinging to your dress, the tremor in your limbs.

“By the gods… What happened to you?” His voice cracked, thick with disbelief. “What is this? What illness—why didn’t you tell me?”

You tried to smile, but it faltered beneath another cough. “My prince,” you rasped, voice barely audible. “I’m sorry… you had to see me like this.”

His eyes burned. “Stop. Stop with such nonsense.” He cupped your cheek, his touch trembling. “We’re going back to the palace. I’ll call for the best healers in Ithaca, in all of Hellas, I—”

You placed a weak hand on his arm, shaking your head ever so slightly.

“There’s nothing they can do,” you whispered, a soft sorrow blooming in your gaze. “It’s too late for m—” A violent cough tore through your chest, doubling you over as more crimson-stained petals spilled from your lips. Your body shook with the effort, each breath shallow, each second feeling like it could be your last.

“No,” he breathed, voice cracking. His grip on you tightened, desperate, as if he could anchor your spirit with the sheer force of his will. You looked up at him, the last rays of sunlight catching in your eyes—eyes that once shone with quiet fire, now glassy and dimming. Staring into the windows of your soul, Telemachus prayed—no, begged—to every god and titan in existence, pleading for one more moment. One more breath. One more heartbeat.

How poetic, she thought bitterly, that it would be the red anemone to mark her end—a flower said to have been born from Aphrodite’s tears mingled with the blood of Adonis, a symbol of love that was beautiful, but doomed. A flower birthed by gods, steeped in sorrow and longing. It was only fitting that such a bloom would take root in her own lungs, fed by a love just as forbidden. What cruel symmetry—to die not by blade or illness, but by the weight of loving the Prince of Ithaca in silence. A love as sacred as it was impossible.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I tried—I tried not to love you. But I couldn’t stop.”

Your eyes fluttered shut like petals falling in slow surrender.

“No, no, no—” Telemachus repeated, over and over, like a prayer, like a curse. “Please… I don’t—I can’t live without you.” His voice cracked. “I love you, (Y/N)...”

A tear traced the curve of his cheek as he cradled you tighter. He leaned down, lips trembling, and pressed the gentlest kiss to your mouth—one full of sorrow, and desperate hope. “Please… stay,” he murmured against your lips. “Come back to me.”

And then—he felt it.

The softest breath, barely there, brushed against his face. His eyes widened, hope snapping through him like lightning.

Your chest rose. Then again. And again.

Your eyelids fluttered open slowly, confusion and life flickering in your gaze. “Telemachus…?”

“(Y/N)!” he cried, laughter bubbling with tears, hands cupping your face like something precious returned from the dead. “You came back—thank the gods, you came back to me!”

He pulled you to him, holding you as if he’d never let go again. The red anemones swayed around you in the breeze, no longer a symbol of death, but of love that defied it.

In that sacred clearing, kissed by fading sunlight and trembling prayers, the boy who would become king held the girl who had once only served. And somewhere, far above, even the gods were silent—for even they could not write a tale more aching or more divine.

[drewswife]

You and ex boyfriend Spencer Reid broke up a month ago, but after a particularly hard case, he needs you more than ever

warnings: angst with comfort

A month. Thirty agonizing days since the forced smiles and the "we need space" speech that had shattered your world. Now, here you were, back in the place you'd sworn you'd avoid, summoned by a text from Elle: "Brutal case. Spencer's a mess. He needs you."

 He needed you. The thought sent a jolt through you, a mixture of anxiety and a longing you thought you'd buried deep. You'd tried to move on, to fill the void with work, with friends, but the ghost of Spencer lingered in every corner of your life. His quirky humor, his encyclopedic knowledge, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about – it was all still so vivid.

 Walking into the bullpen, you felt a wave of tension wash over you. The air was thick with the residue of a difficult case, the kind that left even seasoned agents shaken. You scanned the room, your eyes landing on Spencer. He was hunched over his desk, his usually meticulous notes scattered haphazardly around him. He looked pale, his tie loosened, his hair disheveled – a stark contrast to his usual put-together self.

 Hesitantly, you approached him. "Spencer?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, followed by a wave of raw emotion. He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back, and before you knew it, he was pulling you into a desperate hug.

 The force of the embrace surprised you, but you quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. He felt fragile, almost broken. He was always the one who held it together, the brilliant mind that could solve any puzzle, but now, he was just Spencer, vulnerable and in need of comfort.

"It was… it was awful," he choked out, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I… I couldn't… I…" He trailed off, unable to articulate the horrors he'd witnessed.

 You didn't push him. You simply held him, letting him know that you were there, that he wasn't alone. After a few moments, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "I shouldn't… I didn't mean to…"

 "It's okay, Spencer," you reassured him, gently cupping his face in your hands. "You're okay. We're okay." He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher.

 "I missed you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. The words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that still lingered between you. You missed him too, more than you cared to admit. The rest of the evening was spent in a quiet companionship. You didn't talk about the case, didn't try to solve his problems.

 You simply sat with him, offering a comforting presence, a silent reminder that he wasn't alone. You made him tea, listened to him ramble about obscure historical facts, and even managed to make him laugh once or twice. As the night drew to a close, you prepared to leave. Spencer walked you to your car, the silence between you comfortable, no longer strained.

 "Thank you," he said, his voice sincere. "I don't know what I would have done without you." "You would have been fine," you replied, giving him a small smile. "You always are." He shook his head. "Not tonight," he admitted. "Tonight, I needed you."

He reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a familiar warmth through you. "Can we… can we talk sometime?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. "About everything?" A flicker of hope ignited within you. "I'd like that," you said, your voice barely above a whisper

a/n: lowk sucks lmk i wanna delete this

more

taglist

tags: @sleepysongbirdsings @spencerreid66 @kkenzie2706

[keyotos]

➳ you're my achilles heel

summary ⎯ niche microtropes w/ the hsr men! emphasis on the micro (not rlly)

includes ⎯ dan heng, aventurine & jing yuan

tana talks ⎯ who's missed me? i've been gone for a HOT minute, and what other way to come back than kickstarting my 1k event: niche microtropes! more info about that will be here. thank you so so much for 1k!!!!

dan heng

when they both have to share a bed and one of them reveals it was the best night of sleep they've ever had

⎯ dan heng has made a lot of mistakes in his life, and letting march choose hotel rooms has to be one of them.

⎯ granted, he truly thought that march would do a good job at choosing the hotel, financial planning, and of course–choosing the rooms.

⎯ and everything was great. until you and dan heng had to share a bed.

you and dan heng shifted around the bed a few times before finally settling into designated spots. it was decided that dan heng would sleep on the outside, while you slept near the wall. his back faced you as he tucked himself into bed.

⎯ you and dan heng were friends. this awkwardness wasn't normal, and there should be no reason for the two of you to be avoiding each other like you are now. alas, here you are now, laying at least a foot apart.

⎯ the room is completely silent, and a bit cold as well. dan heng felt a breeze constantly grazing his shoulders. yeah. there was no way he could sleep like this

⎯ you, on the other hand, felt too hot. you had most of the blankets on your side and you felt SUFFOCATED. sometimes, it felt hard to breathe. but u weren't sure if that was just nerves or bc of how hot you felt.

⎯ ultimately, you are the one who has to make the first move.

"dan heng," you turned around and whispered, "are you cold?"

⎯ obviously, he was cold. but was he going to say anything about it?? no.

"i'm fine," he said, still facing his back towards you. "are you cold?" you gulped at the dry response. usually, you find yourself always wanting to talk to dan heng. he was never a boring converser, so why was he acting so strange tonight? but then again, you had no room to talk—you haven't said a word to dan heng until now.

⎯ at this point, you're a little frustrated at the lack of communication between the both of you. so—being the problem solver that you are—you decide to do something about it

slowly, you inch closer to dan heng—just to test the waters, of course. dan heng doesn't reach much, only a small head turn once he feels a dip in the mattress. you take some of the blanket and throw it over dan heng, awaiting his response.

⎯ meanwhile, dan heng over here is internally flipping out. when you inched towards him, dan heng could feel his heart skipping more than a few beats. and when you threw the blanket over him, dan heng wasn't sure if he felt warm due to the blanket or you.

⎯ when he finally turns over, you have to hide your wide eyes and slacked mouth underneath the blanket. you peer back up, and he's staring right at you.

"are... you okay?" you whisper underneath the blanket. "i'm cold," is all dan heng says. you hide your smile underneath the blanket, but you have a feeling dan heng knows you're smiling anyway. he's looking straight in your eyes after all.

⎯ and then you say it. you practically hit the pentagon.

you open up the blanket to where it reveals a dark silhouette of your body. "do you want to share?"

⎯ dan heng practically malfunctions. usually, there are always things dan heng says to fill the silence. he never runs out of words. not in a talkative way like march, but rather, he has an extensive vocabulary

⎯ this time though? haha. very funny. he's gone mute.

dan heng blinks at you while you hold the blanket open. you raise an eyebrow, taunting him. he squeezes his eyes shut, and then reopens them to find you still holding the blanket. was he halluncinating?

"i don't want to intrude." "oh please," you quietly laugh, "we're already sharing a bed. we crossed the line of intrusion a few hours ago."

⎯ and that sounds like a good deal to the both of you. except, one thing.

"are things going to change after this?" dan heng asks you. you're glad it's dark, so dan heng doesn't see you flush, "i don't see why things would change," you say, maintaining a calm face.

⎯ that's enough to get dan heng under the covers with you.

⎯ you two sleep wonderfully the rest of the night—you two even woke up early too. you were the one to wake up first. the sun shone on your face, yet you didn't even feel the glare at all. you felt energized, which was weird considering that you went to bed at questionable hour last night.

⎯ oh, and you also felt a pair of arms over your waist too. and something pressing into your neck. and something wrapping around your legs. and you also feel really hot. is that from the sun????

⎯ yeah. it's going to be harder to keep your word.

aventurine

those dancing scenes where it just so happens that the lighting focuses on the two of you

⎯ lavish parties and extravagant events weren’t new to aventurine, who just so happened to stumble on one of the biggest on penacony

⎯ sometimes, the families hold galas. it’s more of an exclusive thing, so aventurine had to do some awkward mingling in order to get in. that includes a very awkward conversation with a security guard, who kept raising eyebrows at his outfit.

⎯ beforehand, he had no interest in going to this event. however, once faced with the possibility that he could gather intel, his mind quickly changed.

⎯ now, he is standing right next to you, the heir to penacony's iris family. in his short time on the planet, he's seen your face countless times: on billboards, commercials, and next to various items. but seeing it in person?

⎯ way. different.

"you've never been dancing before?" you lead the ipc executive, aventurine, down the halls of the iris family's ballroom. aventurine shakes his head as he follows you, "not once. though, as the iris family's biggest celebrity, i take it you're used to dances?" your eyes widen when you hear him utter the compliment, "i'm... i'm not sure i'm the biggest celebrity," you rub your neck sheepishly. you tilt your head back, "and i don't think i can remember a time where i didn't dance."

⎯ aventurine has one goal tonight, and it's to get information about the families. if all goes according to plan, then he'd have the upper hand on penacony itself, thus being able to use his knowledge as a bargaining chip for the ipc.

⎯ and if there's one thing aventurine is good at, it's bargains.

⎯ so now, aventurine is trying his hardest to charm you into giving out any information. because people like you always talk.

"that must've been nice," aventurine eggs you on, "from what i can tell, parties on penacony are always fun." you let out a small laugh, "i'm glad you think that." the two of you walk side-by-side, and you aren't saying a single thing. aventurine flexes his hand by his side, preparing to make more idle chatter. he's about to open his mouth when a bright, shining light beams onto the both of you.

⎯ from the look on your face, aventurine can tell that you did not like that. he stands there passively, awaiting for your next move.

⎯ what he did not expect was for you to hold out your hand for him.

"um," you clear your throat. your eyes dart around the room and you gulp, holding out your hand, "may i have this dance?"

⎯ aventurine meets your nervous eyes with his wide ones. it looks like the two of you have no other choice. eyes are on the both of you when aventurine takes your hand, and you pull him into a quiet space in the ballroom.

�� let's get one thing straight: aventurine does not know how to dance.

⎯ so currently, he's trying to avoid stepping on your toes, while trying to remain in sync with you. on the inside, aventurine is annoyed. there are ears everywhere, meaning that there's a bigger risk. however, aventurine is all about risks, and the night is still young.

"i thought you liked dances," aventurine purposefully whispers into your ear, and he can feel the heat rise up. his voice is sultry and sweet, and he hopes to get you addicted to it soon. you look up at him with crinkled eyes. the light is glaring on you, and it seems like you're glinting instead of shining. "i never said that." aventurine takes notice of the rise and fall of your chest—much faster than when the two of you met. the corner of his lip raises a little bit, "oh, i'm sorry. but are you uncomfortable? i thought you've been doing this for years? let me know if i can do anything to help?" he offers.

⎯ you only smile, and aventurine gives you a polite smile back. he follows your lead, waiting for you to say something, but you only lead him around the ballroom.

⎯ the light is still trailing after you, except it's beaming more on aventurine than you at this point.

⎯ it's beaming more on aventurine. oh. he gets it now.

"do you wanna get out of here?" he whispers in your ear once again. he has to try his hardest to bite down the smirk that was about to appear on his face. this was going to be easier than he thought. you grab his hand in a tight hold, "no," you firmly state, "we're staying here."

⎯ wow. what a shift of tone.

"i need your help," you mutter under your breath. "help me, and i'll do anything," you look up into his eyes, pleading with him through your gaze.

⎯ aventurine nearly steps on your feet. what?

"uh–what?" aventurine questions you as you keep moving.

"sneak me out of here. we can't go through the doors—there's the bloodhound family everywhere. but i need you to get me out," you beseech. you grab his hand, bringing it up to your chest and slowly sliding it down to your waist.

⎯ aventurine has to remind himself to keep his cool multiple times. breathe in, breathe out. what were you getting at here? why did you want to escape?

"listen, what i said earlier. about the parties. i need to get out," you spin yourself around and back into the blond. "help me," you connect your palms as you circle him, "and i'll help you," you intertwine your fingers together.

⎯ the light still glistens over the both of you. and aventurine thinks two things: he's gotten into something he didn't need to get into, and that he finally has a way into the family.

jing yuan

second chance romance, except the two of you have been keeping tabs on one another the entire time.

⎯ jing yuan's childhood is filled of fond memories: his old master, the bright and sunny days when he would train, and you.

⎯ you, who jing yuan would willingly miss trainings for. you, the brilliant and clever reporter who broadcasted for the people. you, who jing yuan had to let go.

⎯ he'd spend days rereading what you've wrote; whether it be small stories or big news on the luofu. everything you had written intoxicated him. however, all good things have to end eventually.

⎯ the break-up wasn't even technically a break up, because you two weren't even together. the harsh reality was that you two were just friends, so jing yuan has no actual reason to be moping around. people lose friends all the time, and with jing yuan's lifestyle, it was bound to be imminent.

⎯ as the general, jing yuan had new priorities, and it seems like you weren't one of them anymore.

⎯ so, you move on with your career. you founded the xianzhou's very own broadcasting channel, which aired to the millions of citizens across all ships. you're a superstar who hasn't left their core values. rather than the big stories, you focus on local ones. you focus on the people.

⎯ and general jing yuan... focuses on his job. sort of. not really.

⎯ can you really say that a general is focused on his job when he goes missing?

"jing yuan," your side aches once you utter his name, and you suppress an agonized moan, "why are you here?"

⎯ you know what they say, old habits die hard.

⎯ the founder of the xianzhou's broadcasting channel was found in critical condition a few days ago. you had been reporting on the a civil case that had struck on one of the ships, and—next thing you know—blood ran from your fingertips and you rushed into a critical care unit.

"how did you even get here?" you ask as you lift yourself up higher on the bed. jing yuan steps forward, but you move back. "i haven't spoken to you in years. you cut me off, and then you show up now? can i atleast get an explanation on how you found me?"

⎯ jing yuan's silence tells you all that you need to know. you keep up with the dozing general, even if you are off the luofu. because still, even after all these years, your heart trails after him.

"i wanted to see you," jing yuan blurts. his voice is much more deeper than you remember it to be. "so i contacted the hospital and told them that my old friend was in critical condition, and i needed to see you." you scoff, "an old friend is a stretch." you pause and look down at your hands. and then, a thought furrows in your mind. "wait, if you knew where i was hospitalized—you read my articles?" "i've never stopped."

⎯ oh. oh? oh????

⎯ safe to say that you were rendered speechless. the next five minutes were spent by you staring at jing yuan, jaw-dropped and all.

"how long?" you asked. "too long," jing yuan dryly chuckles. "since i left."

⎯ the air is thick, and things are obviously tense. and there are so many things to talk about. so many things to tell him. such as how you've surfed before (it was a big dream of yours). or how you finally adopted the cat you always wanted (you hope he brings up his lion).

⎯ and while you sit there, you realize that you've missed this. how could you even live without this for hundreds of years? without him? was it surreal to feel so strongly about a person that left so long ago?

⎯ so many milestones missed. so many to make up for. so many things to talk about. so many things to clear up. and you still want to do it all with jing yuan.

⎯ does he still want to do it with you?

you clear your throat, attempting to sit up straighter. you're struggling, and you've never felt so embarrassed in your life. while trying to adjust yourself once more, you see a shadow appear above you, and it's the one and only jing yuan. "do you need help?" he asks, holding his arm out for you as support. you take it gladly, pulling yourself up by grabbing onto his (big) forearm. "thank you," you dust yourself off, checking your side for any rips in your stitches. "now," you begin, letting out a shaky breath, "i think... i think we're overdue for a chat."

⎯ you knew jing yuan. you'd like to know him now. jing yuan knew you too, and now—judging by the look on his face—he'd like to know you too.

god i've missed the hc's so much. like i'm truly going back to my roots here. be honest did y'all miss the hc's too or was that just me????

[fallingformatt]

FIRST GLANCE M.S. PT. 1

Matt x fem!reader

summary: while walking to the bar with your best friend you accidentally bump into Matt, then later you unexpectedly bump into him again, leading the two of you to do unholy things.

warnings: FILTHY ASS SMUTTT!!! unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, slight degradation, slight praising.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: Thank all of you so much for the love on the last post, as I started writing literally so recently it means a lot to me. Also these scenarios keep popping up in my head and I write them down immediately and just work on them till I’m finished, so yea Im posting three days in a row. THIS IS SO GOOD DOE, not proofread.

➽───────────────❥

"But I have nothing to wear," I whine as I plop down on my best friend's bed. She really wanted us to go out to this cute bar she found on TikTok.

"Wait, I have something in my closet perfect for you," she said excitedly, pulling out a black mini dress. "It's just a black mini dress, what so special about it?" I ask with a confused look plastered on my face. "It's not the dress that's perfect," she says as she starts to dig around her closet again. "It's what you're going to wear with it," she exclaims.

"Found it," she says and excitement can be heard in her voice. She pulls out a box that has 'GUCCI' written on it. She pulls off the lid and there are a pair of tights in there. "Oh those are really pretty," I say as she opens the packaging for the first time. "That's not the end of it," she says swiftly turning around as she gets on her tippy toes to reach the highest shelf of her closet.

She manages to reach and pull out this little, red shoulder bag that screams money. "See it's not always about what you're wearing, sometimes it's about how you accessorize," she says happily clapping her hands together.

We both do our makeup and our hair while listening to music, chitchatting, and drinking some wine. As I finish my makeup and hair I get up to put on the outfit my best friend picked out for me. "Be careful with the tights, don't ruin them," she turns her head and says. "Don't worry, I won't, thank you for the cute outfit," I answer. "Glad to get you out of the house," she says as she also stands up finished with her makeup, and takes her clothes to change into.

We both step out of the house, ready to go to the bar, enjoy a few drinks, and maybe take some cute pictures for Instagram.

The city is lively, people walking down the streets, the sun almost gone, as the streets get darker. A bit tipsy from the wine we had, we walked, headed to the bar as it's not far from her place, our elbows intertwined as we continue to talk about everything that comes to our minds occasionally letting out a small laugh when one of us tells a joke.

My head is turned to my friend as she's retelling the story about her most stupid hookup, and I can't stop laughing. One moment I'm laughing about my friend's story and the next I feel myself trip over a pebble as I lose my balance. My body doesn't meet the ground, instead, it meets someone's chest. I quickly lean back to stand on my own feet again. I look up and my eyes meet the most beautiful guy I've ever seen. I look at him as I study his features, the fluffy hair, the silver earrings, his light stubble, and finally my eyes meet his, his icy blue eyes I could drown in.

I snap back to reality as I hear his voice "You okay there?" he says, his voice just as attractive as his looks. "Yeah sorry," I say as my friend pulls me to her. "Come on let's go," she says still holding onto my elbow and we walk past this beautiful stranger. As we're walking, I turn my head back to look at him and our eyes meet for the last time as we walk further away from each other, both walking in opposite directions.

We get to the bar and order some drinks, we sit down and look around. The bar really is cute, the ceiling is covered in flowers giving the place a fairytale vibe. I look to my side and notice this huge mirror that's covered in pink bows. "We have to take a picture there," I say as my eyes light up.

We're now 3 drinks into the evening and the guy from earlier crosses my mind. His face, his voice, his eyes. I could imagine him in between my legs as he eats me out giving me pleasure out of this world.

"Hello, are you listening to me?" my friend asks as she waves her hand in front of my face. I snap back to reality and look at her. "Did you hear anything I just said?" She asks. "You cockblocked me," I say furrowing my brows. "What do you mean?" She asks confused. "The guy I bumped into, he was totally into me," I say confidently. "Oh come on, that interaction lasted 2 seconds," she said laughing. "It was enough to make me understand that I need to be dicked down tonight," I answer. "Do you want to go to the club?" She asks. I nod my head happily. We finish our drinks and head out.

We walked around 5 minutes before we were in front of the club's door. Loud music can be heard as we walk in, lights shooting and changing color as we walk deeper into the club. My friend takes my hand as she pulls me into the dance floor. "This is my song," she exclaims as we both start dancing.

Feeling the light buzz the alcohol gave me, I close my eyes and move my hips to the rhythm of the song. I put up my hands as I get lost in the song dancing my heart out.

When the song finishes and I open my eyes, my best friend is nowhere to be seen. I try to move past all the people on the dance floor in an attempt to look for her.

As I walk towards the bar, I feel my ass brush against someone trying to get past the crowd. I turn around and look up. My eyes widen, not believing who I'm looking at.

It's the guy from earlier, the one who broke my trip and didn't let me fall to the ground. His eyes meet mine as a lustful smile appears on my lips.

"You really like to touch me don't you," the pretty boy says. "What are you doing here?" I ask. "Well, what do people usually do at the club?" He answers my question with a rhetorical question.

"Thanks for not letting me fall earlier," I say as I brush his chest over the place I bumped into. "You have to be more careful, watch where you're stepping, it could've been a stinky homeless guy, instead of me that you bumped into, I'm Matt by the way," he says, his charming voice making my knees weak.

"You wanna go dance?" I ask him, and without hesitation, he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd at the dance floor.

We dance in sync as Matt's hands are placed on my hips guiding them side to side as my ass is brushing against his jeans, my one hand bent backward wrapped around the nape of his head.

I feel myself getting wet as I feel his hands starting to roam around my body, touching me in all the right places. I begin to grind my ass against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard as he lets out a hot breath in my ear.

Now one of his hands has traveled to my inner thigh as the other one keeps resting on my hip slowly guiding it up and down his hard, clothed cock. He sneaks his hand under my short dress, moving closer to my heat. His thumb starts to move in circles on my clit as his ring and middle finger move up and down over my clothed folds. I let out a moan as the pleasurable sensation entered my body. I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder.

I feel Matt's hand suddenly stop, as he spins me around. "Follow me," he says when he leaned in closer to my ear so I'd be able to hear him over the loud music. His voice was dark, filled with lust.

Matt took my wrist and quickly led me to the bathrooms, he approached a door with a 'staff only' sign on it. When he pulled the handle I thought it would be locked, but it wasn't. We went in and it was as dim almost as the nightclub itself only a few colored lights giving the bathroom enough light to see where everything was. It was a big one toilet bathroom though, but it's still weird that the staff would have to do their business practically in the dark.

I snap out of my thoughts as I hear Matt closing the door behind him and turning the lock. He looked at me, his icy blue eyes were now dark, filled with hunger. He takes my hand and pulls me close, smashing his lips onto mine and his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. His hands travel around my body stopping at my ass, he grabs hard on it.

Without breaking the kiss he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I let out a moan feeling the cold buckle of his belt against my heat. He walks over to the counter where the sink is located and sits me down.

He breaks the kiss and looks me in my eyes, slowly kneeling down. His head is now on one level with my throbbing pussy. "Please," is all I manage to blur out.

I feel his cold fingertips trace along my thigh as he stops at my core, rubbing circles on my clit and I let out a loud moan. With one sharp movement, I hear the tights rip making me feel the cold countertop on my bare skin as the tights now have huge runs in them.

Matt's hands guide my legs on top of his shoulders, he pulls me closer giving him better access to my pussy, making me lean against the mirror that was on the wall behind the counter. I let out a whine as I felt two of his cold fingers moving my thong to the side now giving him full access to my dripping hole.

Matt looks up at me before moving closer, placing a trail of kisses from my thigh to my sensitive bud, causing my fingers to intertwine with his fluffy hair. He sticks out his tongue and starts licking circles around my clit. I roll my eyes to the back of my head. I feel his cold fingers pressing against my pussy, teasing me. "I need you," I manage to whimper under my breath and without any hesitation I feel his fingers push deep inside me, his cold rings pressed outside of my pussy.

I moan out loudly as his tongue and his fingers move in a rhythm giving me unimaginable pleasure. His fingers curled inside of me, places so deep I could never reach them on my own, his other hand holding a tight grip on my thigh. I feel a knot forming in my stomach. "Cl- close," I whimper out not able to say anything else.

His fingers slide out of my pussy and his tongue replaces them. Curling his tongue in my hole, I gasp out of the intense pleasure, Matt's now free hand traveling to my other thigh, holding on to it.

My sloppy moans fill the room as the pleasure is too much for me and I can't find the room to take in a full breath. "I'm about to cum," I moan out. He hums against my pussy, his tongue still in me curling inside of me. His voice sending vibrations through my core is enough for me to reach my climax. I let out a loud moan as I tug on his hair hard, bucking up my hips and rinding out my high.

Matt continues to move his tongue inside of me making my legs shake as the overstimulation rushes over me. My moans turn into loud pants, trying to catch my breath. My legs shake uncontrollably as his movements don't stop and he continues to curl his tongue, moving it in and out of me.

I try to move my legs, but Matt tightens his grip around my thighs, his short nails digging into my skin as I let out a hiss. I feel another orgasm coming, legs still shaking. "Don- pl- don't sto-" I try to speak in between my attempts to get some air in my lungs. I feel my vision getting blurry as I feel tears forming in my eyes from the intense pleasure.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel Matt's thumb drawing circles on my clit. This is enough to send me over the edge and I squeeze Matt's head in between my shaking thighs as I cum for the second time.

I ride out my high and Matt stands up, his lips shining a bright red color. "You taste so sweet, I could eat you out all night," he says before kissing me and pulling on my bottom lip with his teeth.

"Get down," he says and yanks me by my wrists. As my feet meet the floor, I instantly lose balance as I'm not able to hold myself up on my own, still unable to fully breathe. Matt catches me, quickly turning me, my back facing him, and bending me over, pushing me against the counter.

I hear him unbuckling his belt before his pants fall to the ground. I look back at him and see him pulling down his boxers. He pushes my dress up revealing my almost bare ass as the only thing covering it is tights with huge runs and now holes in them.

I feel a sting as Matt slaps my ass making me moan out in pleasure. He pulls my thong to the side and without any warning he grabs my ass lifting it up before pushing his dick deeply inside of me, immediately kissing my g-spot on the first thrust. I let out a loud pornographic moan.

"Shit you feel so good around my cock baby," Matt moans, one of his hands placed on my lower back, the other traveled to my hair, weaving his hand around them to make a ponytail.

As he continues to plant deep, hard thrusts in me, he yanks my hair causing my head to tilt back, he leans in and places a kiss on my lips as his other hand now firmly holds onto my jaw.

"You're such a good girl for me, fuck," Matt growls breaking the contact between our lips, throwing his head back as his mouth falls open, his chest unevenly rising up and down.

Both of our heavy pants and moans are now filling the room. "Ahh fuck princess, you feel so tight, I'm about to cum," Matt moans out. My walls clench around his twitching cock as I also feel my orgasm coming, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, just a high-pitched whimper.

"Look at you, you're so pathetic, can't even say anything, I have fucked you dumb," he says and I hear how smug his voice is.

Matt thrusts a few more times before I feel my orgasm taking over me, and my legs again begin to shake. "Oh fuck," Matt moans out as he thrusts deeply painting my walls with his cum. He lets go of my hair as he pats my head "You're such a good girl," Matt says.

Matt pulls out his cock and pulls the dress over my ass pulling up his boxers and his jeans. I try to stand up feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the slightest movement. I lose my balance and Matt catches me once again. "Awww, I have really done a number on you, haven't I?" He asks teasingly, I just nod as I don't have the strength to answer.

Matt leads me to sit down on the toilet before he returns to the sink, and wets his hands under the cold, running water. He walks over to me and places one of his wet, cold hands at the nape of my neck and the other one on my cheek to help me come back to my senses.

We stand there like that for a while before he wipes the mascara that had run down my cheeks with his wet thumb while looking down at me giving me a warm smile, leaning down, and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

"How you feeling?" he asks innocently as if he didn't just fuck my brains out. "Better, I think I'm ready to go," I say as I stand up. We head to the door and I lead the way, unlocking the door we go out.

I see my best friend, she notices me too and rushes over, "What happened, where were you, I was searching all over for you!" she exclaims with a worried but angry voice as she looks me up and down. "What did you do to my tights?" Her eyes widen. "I got revenge on you for cockblocking me," I say as I smile. "Oh looks like we've got a brat on our hands," Matt says as he chuckles, leaning in, his hand on my hip, holding me tight, so I don't lose support.

"Bump into me again sometime," Matt says as a small smirk creeps on his lips.