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ooooo-mcyt · 1 month ago

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It's such a shame the Secret Soulmates thing is so often portrayed as Grian being selfish or vindictive for no reason because I think the actual events leading up to Grian's decision to seek out BigB are way more interesting than just "Grian's a selfish cheater". So like, because it's not covered much, I'm just going to detail the entire narrative from Grian's pov leading up to his decision to go to BigB.

For the first part of the first episode, Grian actually really seems to be romanticizing the idea of soulmates. Multiple times, he describes his search for his soulmate as "looking for love" and he hits everyone he meets with almost excited anticipation.

The moment Grian and BigB first look at each other is surprisingly romantic? I mean, it feels like what you'd expect from someone meeting their soulmate, from someone who just knows.

BigB and Scott finish testing if they're soulmates, and BigB is mid sentence when he turns around and look at Grian, and BigB just stops mid sentence and goes "Oh", which Grian echos (also when bigb looks at grian, grian holds his shield up for a good few seconds which just gives me the image of him hiding behind it and peering over the top which is uncharacteristically shy for grian but also really cute). "Are you ready?", BigB asks, and he waits for Grian to give him the go ahead before hitting him.

And..nothing. They aren't soulmates. BigB sounds disappointed. Grian sounds almost distraught, "I was so sure- I've never had such a broken heart in my life."

Shortly after Grian's soulmate takes significant damage. Everyone present rushes to give him food, though Grian would later credit BigB specifically with the very warm sentiment of having "saved" him.

And Grian's first meeting with Scar is..different.

Grian already doesn't seem to want to be Scar's soulmate, doesn't want to be teamed again, for one reason or another. And Scar..doesn't make it easier. Grian tries to talk to him, as the realization sets in, tries to say it, that they're soulmates. Grian does say it. But Scar isn't listening. Scar actively talks over Grian to brush Grian off, walking away while Grian is trying to grapple with the fact that they're soulmates.

Scar doesn't notice. Grian said it, mind you, in plain English- "Scar I think we're soulmates"- and Scar heard him, Scar responded to him, Scar just wasn't listening. Scar doesn't look for his soulmate, and he doesn't figure it out either for the rest of the episode. Grian tries to tell him twice more, and twice more Scar isn't listening. The first time, Grian calls after Scar twice as he's running off, "Scar I need to tell you something", but Scar doesn't turn around. The final time, Grian literally forces Scar to look at him and drops dripstone on their heads. Scar somehow still doesn't see him. Grian demands Scar look at him, actually look, this time, and finally, with great effort, he manages to get the point across.

One of Scar's first questions is "do we have to live together?", and Grian responds that it would be nice to, a sentiment Scar doesn't immediately echo. Grian pulls Scar along, back to the base Grian got working on by himself earlier.

At the start of the next episode, they have a disagreement. Scar brings home some pandas without consulting Grian, and Grian reacts very negatively, making a no pandas in the house rule and prompting Scar to help him with work instead. Grian specifically delegates the job of getting oak wood to Scar while Grian continues working on..everything else..himself. And after a bit of procrastinating from Scar, he does go to do his "chores" as Scar describes them.

Except that Scar doesn't actually.

Well, I mean, he does do the "chore" Grian gave him, but while he's out, he takes a break to think of a way to punish Grian, coming up with the idea of using powdered snow to hurt Grian as a punishment for Grian not letting the animals in the house and making Scar do a "chore". Grian doesn't technically know Scar did this on purpose, but with tick damage being a very distinctive type of damage that you usually would have to do on purpose to take as much as Scar did, I wouldn't be surprised if Grian figured it out.

It's at this point, that Grian decides to go to BigB. And it doesn't feel like he's just doing it for shallow reasons or to be mean, it fully checks out.

Because Grian's not happy with Scar at this point!

Partially because Scar himself doesn't seem interested in Grian at all, wouldn't listen to Grian to the point of talking over and brushing him off when Grian tried to tell him, and didn't want to live together after finding out. For Grian, who genuinely did seem to have a rather romantic view of soulmates at the start of the first episode, it probably kinda sucked to have his soulmate look past him like that. I can't fault Scar for not being particularly interested, but just because Scar didn't do anything technically wrong doesn't mean Grian's not allowed to be unhappy.

And then there's the other problem. The one I see surprisingly few fans talk about in regards to Scar and Grian. "Why does everyone else get a real partner except me?", Grian asked shortly before deciding to go to BigB. It's a sentiment we get from Grian multiple times. He says being Scar's partner is like babysitting, like having a toddler, Scar doesn't feel like a partner, he feels like a source of emotional labor who has no interest in lessening the burden for Grian. And. Yeah. Grian has good reason to feel like Scar makes him do all the labor in their relationship. I mean, Grian needed to get very pushy to even get Scar to agree to help build their shared base, Grian had to do the job of managing Scar on what specific task to do, Grian gave Scar a very small job comparative to the work Grian was doing around the house, and Scar still complained and found a way to punish Grian (the powdered snow) for "making" him do "chores" and not wanting animals in the house.

Which isn't to say Scar is bad or malicious or something, I love Scar, hell, I love Desert Duo, I think they work very well together in a lot of cases, but I think there is very much a labor imbalance- both in actual work and in emotional labor- here and it's understandably upsetting for Grian.

And in comparison, BigB looks..wonderful, to Grian?

BigB wanted him, for starters. They both felt it, the previous day. Scar kept looking through Grian, but BigB's eyes met Grian's and they both felt something. BigB seems considerate too. Grian feels like he has to pull teeth to get Scar to help him with the house (and then gets punished for it), meanwhile BigB is the one who "saved" Grian the previous day, jumping to give him food, not to mention the considerate gesture of BigB checking in to make sure Grian is ready before hitting him for the soulmate check. And, well, Grian clearly likes BigB.

Grian wasn't just going to someone else to be mean to Scar, and he didn't go for BigB just because he wanted someone, Grian was- validly!- unhappy with Scar (who didn't seem to want to be together much either) and actively liked BigB and thought he'd be a good partner.

Also, Grian very notably announces that he's defying destiny and asserts that he has a choice in who to be with, which adds a thematic layer of personal agency to the whole thing too. You get the impression Grian was mostly with Scar because he felt like he had to be, because the universe tied them together. But here Grian considers, for the first time, the thought that maybe it's okay to be with someone he wants, and who makes him happy, instead of resigning himself to be with the one he's 'supposed' to be with just because he's 'supposed' to.

(this idea of agency in who you love is relevant to double life as a whole, as i've made many posts about, but also is relevant to desert duo specifically. as much as i think they really cared about each other in third life, grian was also with scar because he was supposed to be for most of the season. being with scar had always, up to that point, been something grian was obligated to do, something grian didn't feel he had much choice in. so grian finally asserting here to the audience that he has a choice feels very relevant thematically.)

#trafficblr #traffic smp #double life smp #life series #grian #it's a traffic jam

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smuttysabina · 22 days ago

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The Office Problem

(Male Reader x Kiss of Life's Natty, 3.6k words) Tags: Office sex, Office gangbangs, Office relationships, More HR violations than your office handbook has room for, Vaginal sex, Creampies, Oral sex, Natty earns herself a fat juicy promotion, Also wow does she look really hot, Protected sex, Office politics, And a distinct lack of morals

Being a manager could be such a pain. When you were not busy fending off absurd requests from Corporate about the latest techo-babble, you were dealing with enough banal office drama to put a high school to shame. It was frankly surprising the amount of hijinks an office of a hundred workers could get up to, and if the company wasn't paying you so goddamn much you would have resigned years ago rather than deal with it every day. But alas, you always managed to stop yourself from hitting send on your two-week notice by glancing at your check, before sighing and carrying on. This past month had been especially grueling, with the arrival of a new hire named Natty, who had taken over as a clerk from Brenda in HR (who had retired and was now living it up in the Bahamas, and getting gangbanged by her "amigos" every night); and had turned out to be quite the slut...

The morning so far had been relatively tame, with only a handful of tongue lashings and praise to distribute. Frank from Operations had once more been reminded to stop pissing all over the floor, and Betsy from Sales had been firmly rejoined for harassing old mister Shultz about his supposedly monster dong (you had it on good authority that the man was in fact packing, provided you shove several viagra down his throat first). The accountants had been congratulated for somehow conspiring to pay everyone on time, presumably on accident, and the lead janitor consulted regarding the onset of stains appearing all over the office. You therefore had time in your schedule to ask your secretary to call in the newest problem child to grace your loveless little nest, and you idly mute the Teams meeting with the C-suite you were in and jot down some notes while you wait. Five minutes later and the Office Problem flounces in, all silken curves and bubbly youthful energy crammed into an outfit that would have gotten her sent to HR had she not been HR. She was also wearing knee-high heeled boots for some bizarre reason.

One Ms. Natty (nobody bothered to use her last name) languidly slides into the proffered chair in front of your desk, preening at your attention and wiggling her body to better present her assets for your inspection. No doubt her young mind was stuffed full of erotic delusions about what was going to happen in your cozy corner office, but you were quite simply going to fire her skanky ass. It had barely been a month and already it was an open secret that Natty was the office bicycle, which you ordinarily wouldn't have minded, free-use sluts kept morale up, except for the fact that she was unable to control her passions in the workplace. You had walked in on her engaging in sexual activity no less than nine separate times, with different partners during each occurrence no less! And the janitors were, in a word, growing more than a touch annoyed about having to clean up spilled sexual fluids as if they were working at a whorehouse or the like.

The first time, you had found Natty squatting down in the break room, stroking an employee with either hand while sucking them off with an enthusiasm that was dearly lacking in her workflow. Then you had spotted one of the Sales ladies munching on her cunt like she was starving, and the third time you had caught her next to the supply closet getting her shelves rearranged. Natty had also been responsible for the traffic jam around the bathroom last Tuesday, where apparently most of the male office staff had lined up to plow her nubile holes, and next you had eyed her grinding rather proactively on Mr. Shultz's lap (who coincidentally had no pants on for some odd reason). Things had only gone downhill from there, as you had observed her getting spit-roasted no less than twice in a row, before watching her getting made airtight near the printers by the interns, whose youthful gusto had resulted in a truly appalling mess on the floor. Finally, just yesterday you had found Natty elbow-deep in the head of Accounting, who was busy hosing the carpet down with streams of truly noxious squirt. Naturally, she was the most popular employee in the office, and had single-handedly caused a 28% drop in work efficiency.

So, leaning forward in your chair across the wide expanse of your desk, you stare Ms. Natty straight in the eyes, and calmly inform her that you were letting her go. Her reaction was, predictable. The girl starts babbling and bawling, her perfect makeup (god knew how she kept it up while getting fucked all day) smearing as tears run down her face, and she blubbers out a question, "But. But WHY, sir? It's only been a month!" to which you sigh and explain that her distracting the entire office was the issue, and also that her work was also noticeably subpar. Further tears follow, "Is-Is it because you've, um, caught me at work?" Natty sobs in realization, and you are forced to inform her that her promiscuity was not the problem, rather the sheer scale of it; nobody was getting any work done because they were too busy trying to fuck her! You recline back in your chair as your words bounce around her skull, Natty visibly pondering what you said before insight flashes behind her eyes and she gives you a sultry smirk, "Or is it because... I haven't given you any yet?" she beams as a slight flush rises on your face, "Oh, I'm so sorry, of course the boss should have priority! Let me..." Natty smoothly rises out of the chair and starts to saunter around your desk, her wide hips swaying from side to side. Sigh.

Natty perches herself on the edge of your desk, plumping out her bare thighs as she dangles one foot dangerously near your crotch, "So tell me, sir, is there anything I can do to keep my job?" She coos, seductively fluttering her eyelashes over her rose-tinted glasses, "I mean," she runs a hand down her chest to the clench of fabric obscuring her crotch, "You've seen what I can do, so," Natty licks her pouty lips, "What will it be, sir?" Nine times out of ten you would have simply laughed her out the door and told the little slut to collect her things on the way out, but you were feeling particularly... bored. It had been a year or so since you had gotten drained at the office, and you were curious to see if this common cumdump could match the costly escort you had brought in last time. So you roll your chair back a bit, and tersely tell her to try her best, and you will consider keeping her around. Natty's face lights up and she lets out a squeal before composing herself and hopping off the desk and sultrily kneeling before you, "Please, relax sir, I'll do all the work for you. You are the boss after all!" she giggles somewhat nervously before running her hands up your legs and slowly unzipping your pants, slipping a delicate hand inside to pull out your manhood.

With tender grace, Natty leans forward and kisses your cock, gently smooching every inch of it until she unlimbers your balls and gives them the same treatment as well. She looks eagerly up at your stony face for your approval, and when she doesn't find it she hurries along to the messy work of getting you erect. With your member barely stiffening under her demure endearments, she promptly pops your meat into her mouth and starts sucking on it like her life depended on it; which in a sense, it did. Natty's cheeks hollow as she strains to engorge your penis, her tongue lapping desperately at it as it slowly fills her mouth. Just as her head starts to bob though, your secretary knocks on the door and you hurriedly push your chair forward, forcing the young clerk to scamper backwards under your desk, where she retains enough of her wits to continue doing her job. Your secretary pops her head in, glancing around as she looks for Natty before raising her eyebrows in confusion. You maintain your calm as you ease your hips upwards, pining Natty's head against the underside of the desk as you force your length into her throat, causing her to gag as quietly as possible. You roll your eyes at your secretary, waving irritably at the closed door to your private bathroom and informing her that Natty was busy cleaning herself up inside after a substantial bawling. Your secretary snorts in amusement, as the girl in question snorts spittle onto your crotch as she struggles to breathe, tapping plaintively at your leg for you to relent, before telling you to call her when Natty needed to be escorted out and closing the door once more.

Natty was starting to use her teeth to communicate her distress, and so you relax, allowing her to pull up enough to gasp for air as she drools all over your genitals. After several moments mercy, you press upwards again, thoroughly testing her gag reflex as you lazily pump away at her face until her frantic coughing had subsided somewhat. When you finally roll your chair back, Natty stumbles out from under your desk, hacking up reams of spittle before looking blearily up at you, "I-I-Was that good enough, sir? I-I'm better at using my mouth than deepthroating, so can I...?" You flick her concerns away by telling her that it had been satisfactory, but that she needed to make you finish if she wanted to remain employed at this (laughably) prestigious company. Nodding frantically, Natty returns to sucking your cock, and was indeed better at using her tongue than tripping her gag reflex, until she abruptly stops and surges to her feet. She sways unsteadily before unbuttoning her short shorts and pulling them down to her knees revealing tantalizing hints of her dark vulva, "Um," she blushes, "You can use this hole as well, sir. But," she glances around, "Do you have protection? I'm not on birth control so..." You direct her to the proper drawer, and soon cool latex sheaths your erection before she kicks her shorts off and awkwardly attempts to join you in your armchair.

You refuse her however, telling her to clean herself out first, no matter what she claimed, you would rather not be fucking your inferiors semen out of her slutty hole, and she blushes as she leans back against the desk and complies. Shyly, she starts to rub at her clit, absentmindedly groping herself before remembering she still had her shirt on and pulling that off as well to reveal a lacy pushup bra that soon joins the rest of her clothes on your desk. Natty's body was classically curved, with much of her flesh going to her shapely thighs and ample ass, though her perky breasts were not unimpressive as well; even if she did constantly push them up to exaggerate their size. The girl pleasures herself in front of you, and once she has moistened herself up she puts her fingers to good use sloshing expertly into her slit. Judging by the sticky mess coating her fingers, Natty had indeed been truthful when she said that she always used a rubber, and soon she was gazing lustfully at your cock, "Mmmmph," she moans, "Can I sir? Please let me sit on it, I promise I won't disappoint you this time..." And when you nod in permission she hurries forward to straddle you, unbuckling and pulling down your pants as she reaches down and strokes some blood back into your diminished dick until it was erect once more. Then with a sultry groan, Natty sits on it.

Sordid heat douses your cock as it slips into the warmth of Natty's belly, her pussy devouring every inch of you until her vulva kisses your root. Her soft breasts press against your face as she wraps her arms around your neck, she looks breathlessly down at you, "Oh sir! You are so... big! You're filling me up!" Her body shudders as she slowly rises before sliding back down it again, her wet folds dragging along your rubbered shaft as she squeezes you tightly, "Please," she gasps, "Cum in me whenever you want, I'll ride you-Oh! Until you finish!" Natty bounces enthusiastically on your manhood, your crotch soon becoming soaked as her pussy drools down onto it, her hips plying the air as she does her best to work your load out. While her head might have been mediocre, Natty's pussy was snug and wet, and before you can stop yourself your hands move to grasp her cheeks, clenching her ass tightly as she rides you. She gasps at this sign of approval, "Oh, sir! Yes! Use me! You can fuck me every day I promise!" Then she cums on your cock, her whole body quivering as yet more cream splatters onto your skin, and with her face bright red, she leans down and kisses you hungrily. You were not entirely too enthused about it, but Natty certainly was, her tongue shoving its way into your mouth as she grinds needily on your dick.

Seemingly surprised that your cock remained unconquered, the young slut leans dangerously backwards, grasping your chair's arms tightly as she searches for the right angle to finish you off. Sweat shimmers on her tanned skin as Natty pushes herself in desperation, her stomach clenching as it grips your shaft for all that it was worth, "Just. Fucking. Cum already!" she hisses in frustration, before remembering her place and begging, "Please cum in me sir! I'm trying my best here!" And to be fair, her best was starting to work on you, your hands squeezing her butt tightly as your balls laboriously start to rise; until with a grunt you haul her back onto you and fully down upon your cock. Natty gasps in relief and pleasure as you finally give in and empty yourself into her, slamming her nubile body against you as you fill the condom with your load. You stifle a groan as her cunt tries to crush your manhood, squeezing it like a vice as it works out every drop of cum in your shaft. When you are finished, she collapses against your chest, breathing heavily as she recovers, her face nestled against your neck. Once she has recuperated enough, you slap her ass to signal for her to unmount you.

Natty scrambles off you, looking worried, but before you could rise she returns to her knees and starts pulling the condom off for you. She waves the swaying sack in front of her face before giving you a sleazy smile and emptying it into her mouth, swallowing every last drop. Natty grimaces slightly, before leaning forward and cleaning your crotch up with her mouth, her tongue lapping up her own juices, "Did-Did I satisfy you, sir? Please?" Her demureness returns as she looks meekly up at you, pausing in her washing as she awaits your answer. You muse upon it, while she had hardly been the best partner you had been with, it had been reasonably entertaining so... You nod, and grandly inform her that her position was secure, and Natty beams with relief, "Oh! Thank you, sir! Thank you!" and to show proper appreciation, she starts sucking you off again. Your dick was still sensitive from orgasm, so it was not long before the stimulation from her eager slurping has you rigid once more. You sigh in enjoyment, and make the sort of decision that you were paid six figures for. You idly inquire that having saved her job, what would Natty say about a promotion? At which the whore stops, and stares up at you in wonder before a grin breaks through her chaste expression.

Natty smoothly stands and bends over your desk, reaching both hands backwards to spread her cheeks to reveal her flushed slit along with her dusky asshole, "I would say," she purrs, "Pick a hole, sir. I'll be your fuck-slut any day of the week!" Fired by a lust that had been often diminished of late, you rise as well, shuffling closer and slapping your member against her sodden labia, causing her to moan eagerly. You grasp her waist to hold her steady, and shove your cock into her pussy until your balls kiss her clit. Natty groans, "Oh fuck, sir! I can feel you... wait!" She glances back in horror, "You forgot to put the condom on!" Whereupon you smack her rear, and cheerfully inform her that as your personal assistant, she would be yours to use exclusively, and so you would not need to worry about contamination from other employees. Natty's eyes widen as she processes this, before giving in and smirking, "Oh, so I'll be getting promoted from the office cumdump to the boss's personal cumdump?" she shudders, her folds moistening noticeably, "Cum in me raw then, sir. Use me however you want!"

And so you do. The clapping of her cheeks was thunderous, and it was a damn good thing your door was soundproofed for security reasons, otherwise the whole floor would have heard it. Natty moans loudly as you plow her from behind, her walls gripping you all the tighter now that you were fucking her unprotected. If anything, the risk of impregnation excites the slut, and you hear her muttering excitedly under her breath about getting knocked up on her boss's desk. Natty's pussy had been wet before, but now it was downright soaking, her juices running down your thighs as her lips slobber all over your shaft. With the added stimulation of her bare skin upon yours, it was not long before your balls are twitching upwards once more. Natty notices your thrusts deepening, and she eagerly urges you on, "Oh fuck, are you going to cum in me, sir? Please, do it! Make me your slut! Oh fuck I'm going to get pregnant!" she screams as you pound away at her curvaceous rear until with a groan, you empty yourself into her. This time your seed spurts directly into Natty's fertile pussy, slowly filling it with your semen as she shakes in the throes of an orgasm.

When you finally leave the warmth of her body, you stagger backward and collapse into your chair, thoroughly exhausted by your exertions. Natty looks winded as well, but she still dutifully plops between your legs and starts sucking her creamy leavings off of your cock, while your own gift to her drips out onto the carpet. Once she had done a reasonable job cleaning off the worst of the mess, she gingerly rises to her feet, grabbing her clothes from your desk and slowly pulling them on, "So...um," she coughs awkwardly, "I am getting that promotion, right?" You wave in acknowledgement, and Natty smiles smugly, "Also, were you serious about the exclusive thing? Because uh, I am kinda popular..." You consider this, the impact on morale would be significant if the office were to suddenly lose access to Natty's free-use holes, so... You compromise, she could sleep with as many women as she liked, but she could only use her mouth to pleasure men. Natty thinks about it, before shrugging, "Sure why not? Okay so, will you be needing me again today or...?" You dismiss her with some warmth, and once she has finished struggling into her tight outfit (her panties were no doubt soon inundated), she waves in goodbye and saunters out of the door as if she had not just been bent over and plowed like a cheap whore by her manager. Your secretary peeks inside thoughtfully, and when your eyes meet, you can tell she has inferred exactly what happened, and she winks knowingly, wiggling her tongue between two fingers to indicate your shared bond. Was there anyone Natty hadn't fucked?

With a tired sigh you roll your chair forward once more, and start mentally thinking about what excuse you could use to fit another HR manager into the budget, when you realize that while the executive meeting had been muted, you certainly had not been, and your camera had been on the entire time. Utterly mortified, you frantically unmute the call's audio as a dozen somber faces stare back at you from the virtual meeting room. But before you could muster any excuses they break into laughter and raucous cheers, congratulating you on your excellent performance! The C-Suite howl and pound at their desks in approbation, causing more than a few heads to quizzically pop up in front of them before being pushed back down again. You are shocked and more than a little relieved to hear that the executive team had extremely impressed, and were adding you to the fast track for promotions, they needed a man like you who could fuck on the team! After all, nothing was more tedious than having some prissy loser who wouldn't join in the weekly executive orgies! With that stunning information bouncing between your ears, the meeting ends, and you consider just what a morning it had been.

It seems like it would become even easier to resist hitting send on your resignation, mostly due to it being difficult to reach for your mouse while you were busy pumping Natty's nubile pussy full of cum.

#smut #kpop smut #Kiss of Life Smut #Natty Smut #Natty Fanfic #Kiss of Life Fanfic #Kiss of Life Natty #kpop fanfic

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munsonmuses · 11 months ago

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Emperor Geta x Fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, gladiatorial combat, animalistic tendencies, uhhhg there’s a breeding kink. This was not proofread.

Word Count: 2.3k

Authors Comments: Iiiii was a major Roman Empire nerd as a kid, so if there’s stuff you’re like “that seemed specific” about? I promise you the research was done and I had to consult my notebooks from when I was a teeny tot (like a young teen). And yes, thumbs up signified death because it represented an upturned sword for combat, and the thumbs down signified sparing the loser, by turning your sword down to sheath

The light fabric of the linen chiton you wore felt like chains, the beautiful gold brooches holding it in place and the belt that rested low on your waist like the shackles. Leading you to a life you’d never wanted. To a future you knew you’d loathe so deeply. This wasn’t the life you’d dreamt of as a young woman. Bringing peace to an empire, marrying a man who was made perfectly for you by the gods.

All of these opportunities had been ripped from between your fingers. Your life slipped away the moment you’d heard that Emperor Geta had set his sights on you. He was callous, pompous, the human equivalent of a promenading lion. He thought nothing but the best of himself, and believed he deserved things equally as good. One of those things being you.

Your finger delicately worked on adjusting the raw leather straps of your sandals. The stephane felt like it was weighting your whole body down, veil swishing against your nape, sending chills down your spine. That the earth may swallow you whole in one fell motion was a wishful thought as you carefully examined the large hall.

It was egregious, how much gold one man could have. How many statues of himself an individual could bare to own. Slowly standing from the large chaise you’d been guided too and approaching one. tracing the curve of his nose, the apples of his cheeks. The manic look they’d managed to capture in his marble portrait, captured perfectly within the massive pupils. Scoffing lightly before hearing a laugh from behind you that caused your skin to pebble viciously. Turning around to face him.

The statue somehow didn’t manage to perfectly capture his mania. Pupils so wide they looked almost entirely black. A wolfish grin. His entire body reeked of need and want.

“You, are even more beautiful than Caracalla described…just look at you-“ his hands clamped down on your upper arms. Holding you in place as he hummed. “You’ll do nicely…” he murmured as you quirked a brow lightly.

You prayed that when you asked, he’d give you a different answer than what you’d been prepared for. Not wanting to surrender yourself to matrimony with a man so viciously bloodthirsty and self righteous. “What will I do nicely for, imperator?” You whispered as he let his eyes glaze over your body. Taking in every inch of you before nodding.

“Don’t be silly, you know what I brought you here for. I have chosen you to be my empress. Not Caracalla’s. Strictly my own.” He insisted as he moved a hand up to grip your jaw while humming. “You’ll take to the role with pride. A loving and affectionate empress…and you’ll give me my sons to lead the future of my empire once my time has come. Am I understood?” He questioned as you scoffed lightly to yourself. Fixing your rings and pulling away. Pacing the large floor of the hall as he kept his eyes on you. Ready to pounce if necessary.

“I am marrying you strictly for familial agreement. Through my loyalty for my empire and my dedication to my familial name…it has nothing to do with you.” You murmured as he sucked on his teeth lightly. You weren’t afraid of him, you saw yourself as an independent being, even a possible equal. An equal amount of hatred that matched his levels of obsession. Overall, he was clearly agitated by your lack of throwing yourself at him, the need for you to desperately present yourself to him. Though he wouldn’t push it. To get you out from under Caracalla’s thumb was difficult enough, so he’d take what he could get.

“Your chambers are prepared, you’ll be dressed for our wedding and you’ll smile. You’ll be grateful.” He ordered as you nodded, allowing the two women by the doorway to follow you out as you sighed in frustration to yourself.

These women were terrified to touch you, though they attempted to feebly conceal their terror as you hummed. Hair carefully arranged with an orange veil placed atop. Slipping into the white woven fabric of your wedding tunic, and slipped on orange sandals. Careful with them as you worked on fastening the knot of Hercules around your waist. Nodding slowly as you assessed yourself in the mirror.

It felt like lead lined your stomach as you approached the large garden, eyes meeting with Geta’s own. Your family and his court clearly anxiously awaiting your arrival. Your dowry had been exchanged, and Geta grinned delightedly at the sight of you approaching. Wringing his fingers, rings loudly knocking together as you frowned in mild fury. He was childish and cocky and self absorbed, albeit a bit handsome.

You stopped in front of him as the two of you read over the marriage contract. His eyes constantly flicking up to you as you lifted your metal pen from the inkwell. Scrawling your name with confidence as he followed suit. His hand suddenly clutching your left wrist as your head whipped to look at him. Geta removing the thick red stoned ring upon one of his fingers and slipping it onto one of your own as he hummed contentedly. Clearly awaiting reciprocation for his affections.

You carefully took his face, pressing a pursed lip kiss to his own plush pink lips as he cradled the back of your head and your waist. Satisfied with his win. Cementing your future with your new husband, as empress.

Your wedding was a few months ago, and in that time you’d been growing to know, like, and even love Geta. Although shrouded in cruel mystery, he did have a tender heart when it came to you. Gifting you lavishly, bathing you in riches and praise. You’d never gone to bed on an empty stomach, and you managed to share romantic pleasantries with him regularly.

You sat beside him as you watched a battle in the coliseum. Head perched on your fist in boredom as he smiled wide at you. The folds of your brooches and adornments complimenting the rich purples of your own robes. Your stephane crooked as his hand delicately reached up to adjust it. “Isn’t this delightful my heart?” He whispered eagerly as you scoffed in light amusement. Grinning lightly at him as you kissed his rings lightly.

“It’s alright. Gladiator fights have never…settled my nerves. If anything the bloodsport terrifies me…” you murmured as his own lips pulled into a tight frown. Though unlike usual, he didn’t have a smart or cold comment to make.

You carefully watched the two men fight, though you could barely call them that. Barely older than sixteen a piece as you chewed on your lip. The larger of the two slamming his sword into the smaller boys shield. Reminding you of the kind boys you’d known in your youth who had the whole world in front of them, stolen in war. Your heart heavy at the sight.

Geta’s eyes were trained on you. Noticing the paleness in your face, watering eyes as you left your chair to look over the edge of the balcony at these boys. Heart pounding in your ears as he sighed. He was furious, he was angry…love had “weakened” him, was what Caracalla had lamented before. But in his eyes, it simply made him better for you. Being weak for one’s own wife was impossible.

Your head whipped to look at him as the smaller boy was bloodied and bruised. Whipped to the ground by his foe as Geta stood slowly for the crowd to see.

He lifted his hand slowly, glancing over at you as his thumb rested on its side. He would typically give a thumbs up, signaling the death of the weaker boy…but instead his thumb dropped. The crowd gasping at the young man being spared at the Emperors command.

Geta’s eyes flicked to you one last time. Seeing nothing but adoration in them as he dismissed his co-contributors frustrated muttering, walking off with you to your shared chambers as he hummed in your ear.

“You’re welcome…” he whispered as you rolled your eyes lightly at him. Kissing his cheek lightly as you closed the large doors behind yourself.

With your back to him, you slowly worked on unhooking the brooches of your chiton, letting the fabric pool at your feet as you worked on removing your sandals slowly. Hearing his movements stop, eyes on you as you grinned lightly over your shoulder.

“You have shown such monumental growth…and kindness…and change, my emperor…” you whispered as you stalked towards him. His breath shaky and heavy as he carefully nodded. “I am so amazed by you…” you murmured as he watched your hands making work of the fasteners on his own tunic. It slipping down his shoulders as you smiled.

“I want…to reward you,” you murmured into his ear. Geta was a man who worked on praise, adoration and reward. He needed something for every “accomplishment” he made. This time you’d give him something more.

He let himself be lied back on your massive bed, his cock slowly hardening. Pressed to his stomach. Cheeks and chest flushed as you hummed lightly to yourself. He deserved this, even if it was simple human decency…it was a major turning point for him.

You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. Lightly nipping at his flushed skin as you worked lower and lower. Pressing kisses down his stomach and licking along the light indentations of his abs before finally paying attention to his desperate cock.

Already twitching lightly, Geta was not a hard man to work up. Lightly pressing warm, open mouthed kisses along his shaft. Tenderly massaging his balls as he whimpered lightly at your ministrations. Following your movements with frantic eyes.

He shivered lightly as he felt your lips lightly wrap around his tip. Lazily sucking and stroking the rest of his shaft lightly. Having used your kisses from earlier as a bit of lubrication. Stroking in time with your slowly bobbing head. Every few moments getting lower and lower. Relishing on the velvety feeling of his thick cock against your tongue. Finally taking your hand away and placing it on his hip. The other taking his right hand and leading it to the back of your head as he trembled lightly. “My heart…please-“ his whisper wasn’t much more than a breath.

The lewd noises of you taking him deep down your throat, slowly sucking while hollowing out your cheeks. Obediently tending to his needs as you groaned desperately against him. Your free hand trailing downward to massage your own clit as he bucked his hips lightly.

“You tease me…” he growled out. “With your desperate hands, your heavenly mouth, your body on full display…you tear me into nothing but tatters of a man…and you relish in my desperation,” he hissed as you pulled your head off.

Stroking his cock lightly as you maintained eye contact with him. Your own blown out with need and want as you continued to tend to your own clit. Sensitive bud twitching under your small, circular motions. Geta’s eyes trained on simply you. Filled with nothing but love and obsession as he growled.

Taking your wrists firmly, he pulled your hands away from both of your own sensitive bodies. Working on lying you back as he pressed his lips to your ear. “You’re a temptress…and you’ll understand just how deeply I want for you…and you’ll give me my sons,” he hissed as he worked one of your legs up around his waist. Keeping one hand on your wrists, pinned above your head as he lined himself up with your wanting cunt. Slowly easing himself into you.

You could feel every vein, every curve. A desperate moan being ripped from you as you arched your back lightly. Geta’s soft laugh and heaving breaths the only other noise you could focus on. His mouth greedily kissing along your soft skin. Nipping at your shoulders and neck. Trailing down to your breasts. Lightly taking your left nipple between his teeth. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud while lazily rolling his hips. Breeding you on his terms.

“Fucking…mnghhh…you’re so good~” he mumbled between mouthfuls of greedy kisses. His thrusts short and swift. Though deep enough to give that knot in your stomach a bit of reprieve. Humming contentedly to himself as he watched your lust clouded eyes. “I can’t promise that you’ll be able to do much once im finished��” he murmured as he began to focus on his thrusts.

Deep and swift, pressing deep into your twitching cunt, your wrists finally free of his grasp as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Holding him close as he fucked deeper into you. “It’s a blessing, to get to carry the future of our empire. Thank me for blessing you…” he growled out as he held your hips firmly. Your moans in time with his thrusts as you struggled to form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck!…thank you, for allow-…allowing me to carry your heirs, and the future of Rome!” Your voice cracked between moans as he laughed lightly. Working on bringing you to your orgasm as he hummed.

Your body felt like it was ablaze, each thrust causing that knot to unravel further and further. Whimpering in desperation and squawking desperately before letting your head fall back. His name spilling past your lips before feeling that knot come undone. Mouth falling open in incoherent babbles as Geta fucked you through your orgasm. Making sure you were thoroughly satisfied and gritting his teeth.

Unable to hold himself back much longer, his thrusts became short and swift before he hilted himself deep within you and came. His own mutters just broken up syllables of your name, trembling arms, and weak kisses along your skin. His body collapsing upon your own as he pressed hot and gentle kisses to your skin.

“I love you…” he murmured, allowing his eyes to close as you lightly combed through his hair. Your own growing heavy as you sighed.

“I love you too…”

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn Cinematic Universe #JQCU #addiewrites #gladiator 2 #gladiator Joseph Quinn #emperor geta just one chance please

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astrocafecoffee · 1 year ago

Text

💫Your future spouse's career based on your Juno persona chart 💫

✨ For entertainment purposes only. Enjoy.✨

🌜what to check?

- just check your Industria (389) asteroid in your Juno persona chart.Find out in which house it falls in!!

Why this asteroid?

- Juno persona chart tells about your future spouse and Industria(389) asteroid is a long term career related asteroid. So this asteroid in your juno persona chart can give a insight about your future spouse's career.

🌜SOME SHORT TERMS I USED HERE :

- FS = FUTURE SPOUSE

-JPC = JUNO PERSONA CHART

Leshh go!

🌆 Industria in 1st house of JPC : 1st house represent one's identity, personality and how they present themselves to the world.This asteroid in 1st house suggests that their career may be tied to their personal identity and innovative spirit. Now some possible career of your fs-

*Entrepreneurial scientist - they may excel in entrepreneurial pursuits within the scientific community. They may innovate new technologies, products that have a significant impact in their field.

* Industry leader - they maybe known for their innovative idea and proactive attitude to their work. They can easily be a leader of their respective industry.

* visionary consultant - they may excel in their field as a respectful advisor, who offers solutions to businesses or individuals seeking guidance.

* Creative director- career in creative leadership such as creative director in advising, film, fashion, or design.

* makeup artist

* Model

* engeneering

* design/ work in media.

🌆 Industria in 2nd house of JPC : Their career may be closely related to their values resources, managing or utilising assets and their sense of stability. Some possible career of your fs -

* wealth management specialist - they helps individuals or organizations maximize their financial resources and investments through innovative and strategic approach.

* Creative Financial analyst - specialised in creative or innovative analysis methods.

* Financial innovator- innovates new financial products, services or strategies.

* asset manager

* Entrepreneurial investor

* can sing well

* accountant

🌆 Industria in 3rd house of JPC : 3rd house represents one's communication style, mental persuits, and interaction within immediate environment. When this asteroid in your 3rd house this can indicate that your fs may excel in the career of innovative communication methods or technologies. Some possible career of your fs -

* They may into journalism, media, broadcasting, or public relations where someone uses their creative ideas.

* technology writer/ blogger: their career path may involve writing / blogging about technologies or industry trends or sharing their ideas with wide audience.

* Workshop/ educational outreach programs.

* small business owner

* excel in troubleshooting skills, problem solving abilities, explaining complex concepts in simple terms.

🌆 Industria in 4th house of JPC : their career tied to their home , family roots, and emotional well-being.some possible career of your fs -

* career in real estate - specialize in designing sustainable, eco friendly, or technologically advanced buildings.

* e- commerce, consulting, freelance work.

* Family councillor or therapist - they may help individuals and families navigate challenges, fostering harmony and growth within te hone environment.

* interior designer

* Home renovation specialist

* Family owned business owner.

* childcare provider

🌆 Industria in 5th house of JPC : 5th house is associated with creativity,joy, children and hobbies. It governs one's individual approach to work, self expression and personal fulfillment. So your fs career strongly related to this area of life. Possible careers -

* creative artist/ entertainer - Excels in creative profession like music , theater , film, writing etc.

* event planer- organizing wedding, festivals or social gathering.

* teacher/ coach - inspiring or guiding others in academic subject/ sports.

* youth councillor - natural affinity to work with young people and helping them to discover their talents.

* atrs nd crafts business owner.

* fitness instructor

* dance teacher

* entertainment industry professional.

🌆 Industria in 6th house of JPC : 6th house is associated with employment, daily task, health and service to others. So possible career of your fs -

* health care professionals - career related to healthcare, nursing, doctor, medicine, and pharmacy.

* nutritionist/ dietician - helping others to improve their dietary habits , manage health condition.

* fitness trainer/ coach - motivates others to adopt healthy lifestyle.

* administrative professional - may indicate talent for efficiency, attention to detail, making career in administrative or office management appealing.

* environmental scientist

* social worker

* reasearch assistant

🌆 Industria in 7th house of JPC : 7th house is related to marriage, buisness partnership, legal matters, and one-on-one interactions. Possible career domains of your fs-

*legal professional - career related as mediators, legal consultant, specialization in areas such as contrat law , family law or dispute resolution.

* business consultant - expertise in the area of strategy, negotiation, and partnership development.

* marriage and family therapist - helping couples navigate challenges, improve communication and strengthen their bonds through therapy or councilling sessions.

* international business manager

* foreign affair specialist

* event coordinator

*public relation specialist

* human resources manager

🌆 Industria in 8th house of JPC : 8th house is associated with themes such as mysteries, psychology, healing, emotional connection. So possible careers of your fs -

* psychologist/ psychotherapist - your fs may excel in trauma therapy, helping others to navigate profound emotional experiences , uncover hidden truth.

* forensic investigator/ crime analyst- they may be focused on uncovering hidden truths and solving mysteries.

*massage therapist - specialize in modalities such as deep tissue massage, craniosacral therapy or helping clients release emotional/ physical tension through healing.

* reasearch scientist - may excel in fields such as psychology, quantum physics, or consciousness studies.

* occultist - astrologer, tarot reader, or spiritual councillors.

* healer/ energy worker

* heal others through their respective fields. Can be. Singer too .

🌆 Industria in 9th house of JPC: 9th house is associated with themes such as higher learning, expansion of horizons , seeking truth, broadening one's perspective through travel/ exploration. Possible careers of your fs -

* international relations specialist - involve promoting international cooperation, resolving conflicts, forming mutual understanding between nations and cultures.

* spiritual teacher/ guru- your fs may pursue careers as spiritual teachers, gurus, mentors, guiding others on their spiritual journey.

* tour guide

* philosopher

* religious leader - may pursue careers as priests, ministers, guiding and supporting communities in matters of faith and spiritual growth.

* global NGO worker

* foreign language teacher

🌆 Industria in 10th house of JPC: 10th house is associated with themes such as career aspirations, social status, reputation, and professional achievements. This asteroid influences the individual's approach to career, public image, authority, ambition. So possible careers of your fs -

* media personality/ influencer - television hosts , journalist, bloggers, social media influencer , reaching a wide audience.

* creative director/ artist - artist, designer, performers.

* CEO

* startup founder, business owner, or self employed professionals.

* legal professional/ lawyer

* educational administrator

🌆 Industria in 11th house of JPC: when your industria asteroid in this house your fs may excel in the career of social network, group affiliation, humanitarian causes, collaboration etc. So possible careers of your fs -

* social entrepreneur - creates innovative solutions to adress social challenges.

* Tech entrepreneur, start-up founder.

* content creator - social media influencers, bloggers, using their platforms to inspire/ educate peoples.

* environment activist

* advocate

* community organizer

* designing educational platforms , or promoting digital literacy.

🌆 Industria in 12th house of JPC: 12th house is often associated with hidden strengths, spirituality, and working behind the scenes. So possible careers of your fs -

* they might work in reserch and development, data analysis or logistical planning behind the scenes.

* astro- spiritual researcher

* music industry

* astrologer

*song writer.

* mystical or spiritual advisor.

* environmental conservationist.

⚡ Note : these are only some possibilities of careers of your fs. And guys check the degrees to , it's like cheery on top 💌

🌜Don't forget to check my other observations too 👀

That's it guys , see you soon 💝

- piko 💖

#astro placements #astro notes #astro community #astrology #astro observations #synastry observations #asteroid #synastry aspects #future spouse #future #synastry #composite chart #composite #future husband

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ladsloveletters · 4 months ago

Text

BACK FOR YOU

summary: Caleb returns to find out you’re having sex with your best friend Zayne.

warnings: MDNI, 18+ content

tags: Nurse!MC, ZaynexMC, CalebxMC, FWB!Zayne, Jealous!Caleb, Love triangle trope perhaps, Caleb doesn’t die in this fic, rough sex, fingering, spitting, spanking, gagging, other filthy stuff, there’s plot in here because i enjoy context lol

word count: 6.2k

notes: not edited and read over quickly once lol just want more caleb smut in my life. also like the idea of love triangle between childhood friends.

The morning shift was almost at its peak. People flooded the hallway. Nurses at the nursing station ruffling through patient files. Doctors pagers beeping as they scurry to the next consultation. Radiologists yelling at physiotherapists to move out of the way as they haul their giant mobile X-Ray machines. In the background you can hear all the patients using their call-bells, lighting up the ceiling TV screens like Christmas Eve.

You sigh, the usual midday headache creeping up your shoulders.

And yet amidst the normal chaos of Akso General Hospital, Dr. Zayne, your childhood best friend, manages to stop in the middle of it all and smirk. ‘Have you had a break yet?’

Flicking your gloves into the bin outside the patient’s door, you turn towards Zayne who happens to be walking down the hallway. ‘I have not peed since I woke up,’ you grunt, making your way across to the busy nurses station to where an amused Zayne rests his arms upon. You let yourself rest on your side, mirroring him.

If it weren't for the many years you had known the man, you would have been fooled by his cool calm demeanor he wears so well. You scanned him. Neatly gelled hair. Freshly shaved face (he missed a spot right by his left jaw). Baby pink button down peaking through his white coat. Polished black shoes matching his pressed pants. And yet you can also note the tick of his jaw. The soft crease between his brows. The faint shadows under his eyes. Zayne was equally as tired. You chuckled, only 3 more hours until the shift ends.

‘I heard the cafeteria is now serving apple pie,’ you offer.

His dark brow quirks up, ‘Since when did you show interest in apple pie?’ he shakes his head, dark hair covering his gaze, ‘Definitely not an appropriate lunch.’

You lean further into your arm, your hand keeping your head upright. ‘I’m sure a certain Colonel would disagree.’

Zayn turned rigid. Right. Caleb.

The DAA Colonel was scheduled to return tomorrow morning. Much to your excitement, the older childhood friend couldn’t help but sense something was off. It was simple. You and Caleb would play while Zayne would watch from afar. And when the sun had set at the playground, Zayne would be the responsible one to walk you home whilst Caleb stayed and played with the other neighbourhood kids. Always measured and always cautious, the childhood dynamic between the three of you remained unchanged even with the other’s disappearance. After high school graduation, the three of you promised to stay in touch no matter what. Even if that meant for Caleb to leave Linkon to join the DAA, leaving you and Zayne behind.

You had hoped for your friend’s return. But hope can be a fickle thing.

Caleb’s eyes were fixated on the small red box. Your hands were clasped around it so tightly, your breath caught in your chest. This was a mistake. A nervous laugh bubbled through your throat as you quickly drew the box behind your back, ‘It’s a stupid present!’ you stuttered shaking your head, ‘I just saw it one day shopping with grandma and-’

His lilac gaze darkened as he quickly snatched the box out of your hands.

“Hey!’

Using his height to his advantage Caleb turns his back towards you as he quickly rips open the box again and plucks out the necklace. ‘When you come back…’ he reads, holding up the dog tag out of your reach and smiling. ‘You’re really going to miss me, Pipsqueak?’

You huff as he continues to turn away from your reach, laughing at your poor attempts of swatting the silver chain out of his large grasp. ‘It’s not my fault you chose to become a stupid pilot instead of going to med school like Zayne!’

The older boy scoffs, turning away from you once more to quickly clasp the chain around his neck. He grins as he tucks the dog tag into his school shirt. Caleb couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten at the mention of the older boy's name. It’s always the same with you. Safe. Responsible. No wonder grandma always wanted Zayne to walk you home after school instead of Caleb. Zayne, your neighbour and best friend. The older upper classmen who always had people gushing about him despite his closed off personality. Personally, it always seemed to annoy Caleb.

But he was good to you, Zayne. Caleb knew that. He saw it every time he walked you home. He saw it when Zayne would drop off boxed lunch for you early in the morning on his way to University. And he knew that he would be able to take care of you whilst he went to the DAA.

But Caleb couldn’t ignore the sting in his eyes at the thought of leaving you for several months. And that's only if things at DAA go smoothly. At worst, Caleb may be gone for a few years before he’s even allowed for a stationed break. But he must go, in order to keep you safe.

‘Why don’t you go to medical school if you admire Zayne so much?’ he teases.

You stop attempting to take off Caleb’s necklace and blink up at him. The cotton blouse of your school uniform is dampened with sweat from the summer air. A soft cool breeze threaded through the leaves of the large tree you stood under, cooling your exposed neck under your ponytail. A mix of frustration and embarrassment reddens your cheeks, ‘Maybe I will.’

Caleb stares down at you. He had gotten taller over the Summer. A whole head taller and then some. Graduation was always bittersweet, and to be honest Caleb couldn’t care less for all the other classmates waiting to give him a parting present as well. After the graduation ceremony he found himself at the back court, trying to get some air before all the other students rushed out to celebrate. He wasn’t oblivious to his popularity. He knew from the stares he would get from other girls and glares from his basketball team. But it never mattered.

All he could focus on was you, standing under the big crabapple tree, small red box in hand waiting to give you a farewell gift. His best friend, who for some reason was always a little something more to him.

Caleb bit his pride aside and took in a deep breath. He stepped forward which made you instinctively step back. The treebark was rough against your skin. Your feet planted between the thick roots of the tree. ‘Stay out of trouble Pipsqueak,’ he murmured, reaching forward. He leant forward, bracing himself with one hand against the tree. The other hand reached under his shirt, thumb pulling out the silver chain. The small apple pendant dangled above your eyeline. The engraved words on the dog tag stared down at you.

‘I’ll come back home before you know it.’

Zayne was always gentle with you.

Despite him being your senior, Zayne had never let you feel small. In fact, he was the opposite. Any chance he got, Zayne had made sure you felt confident and empowered and supported. Even through nursing school with late night studying and long days working at the convenience store to pay for school- Zayne was there to help. Handwritten flash cards. Homemade lunch boxes. He was there.

And when Caleb stopped responding to your letters and emails, Zayne was there as well.

He can admit, the younger boy was trouble. But he also saw how much he cared for you. After all, you were so excited to give him his graduation present that you decided to ask Zayne for his opinion. ‘Do you think he’ll like it?’ you bit into your nails. Zayne would try not to roll his eyes and shrug his shoulders, ‘He would be an ungrateful idiot if not.’

After all, you were always looking out for them both. Even when Zayne had questioned your motives to become a nurse, you simply responded, ‘It’s so I can help others no matter what,’ you shrugged, ‘And so I can see you often and help Caleb if he ever gets injured.’

It came so easily to you, helping others. It was the biggest thing Zayne admired about you. However it was also your biggest weakness, wearing your heart on your sleeve. His biggest worry was how easy it would be to break your heart.

And so it was Zayne’s personal mission to ensure that no one would break your heart. Because at the end of the day, you were his best friend and he was looking out for you. He would take care of you no matter what.

Which is how you ended up in the abandoned storage room at the bottom of Asko Hospital. With Zayne, taking care of you.

‘A-Ah, Zayne hurry up,’ you whine.

His kisses were more rough today. Something you noted as soon as he had pushed you through the storage room doors. He had carelessly slammed his swipecard against the door lock, pressing his mouth against your neck as he closed the door shut behind you. Peeling off his coat and swipecard, he dropped everything onto the floor one by one.

You turn around to meet his soft lips, pressing yours against them. His tongue made no mistake in entering your mouth swiftly, softly entangling with yours. He smelled of coffee and laundry detergent as he pushed you against one of the metal shelves. His large hands made work to the back of your head, one hand firm at the back of your neck as the other took off the claw clip of your ponytail. Your hair fell around your shoulders as your hands tugged at his waist.

‘Does this count as a lunch break?’

Zayne grunted, taking his glasses off and placing them on the shelf behind you as he brushed your hair over your shoulder. He hummed as he pressed open mouth kisses along your collar bone and you sighed in bliss as your head fell back. This is how it was. It was a mutual decision. Working at a busy hospital meant a lot of stress and frustration would pent up so quickly and easily. It was only logical to find an equally quick and easy release.

Whose idea it was, you cannot remember.

‘You’re so hard already,’ you sigh as your hand feels up the front of Zayne’s pants. He chuckled as he brought a hand forward to cup your breast. Through your thin scrubs he could feel your nipple pebble and harden under your bralette. ‘Could say the same for you.’

You huff and make quick work of his belt buckle and Zayne lets you as you pull down the zipper and drop his slacks around his thick thighs. You groan at the sight of the tent in his black briefs. Lifting your arms up, Zayne swiftly pulls your scrub top over your head and throws it into the corner. He smirks at the sight of your heaving chest. ‘Eager?’ he teases.

‘Whatever,’ you grumble as you tug him forward with his necktie. His mouth was on yours once again. His kisses tasted divine. Not that you had much to compare to. Your mouth only knew Zayne’s. And Caleb.

But that was neither here nor there. And where you are now, wrapped in the strong arms of your favourite doctor, was where you wanted, needed to be.

You bury the thought of anyone else and let yourself fall drunk off his kisses. Pushing your front flush against him, he moans at the contact. Indeed, he was very hard.

‘Do you think you can take an extra fifteen for your lunch break?’ you murmur, mouth getting swollen from Zayne’s tender bites.

Not bothering to respond, Zayne tugs the bottom of your scrubs down enough to expose your pink striped panties. His hand cups the front of your pussy and lets out a short breath. ‘You’re so fucking wet.’ His fingers don’t take time to slip under the soaked cotton and glide themselves over your slick. ‘Is this how you walk around all day?’ he grunts, ‘Wet and waiting for me to take you?’

Your head falls onto Zayne’s shoulder, mouth agape. Your hips buck and grind against his palm, begging for more than just his teasing fingertips.

‘If it weren’t for you walking around like that,’ he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanning your ear and you shudder. ‘I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything all day,’ he confesses, ‘Do you know how dangerous that would be for me, love? I am the most respected cardiac surgeon in all of Linkon and the sight of you reduces me to nothing.’

His fingers gently caress your swollen clit, massaging them ever so slowly. You can feel yourself getting more wet, practically soaking yourself into his palm. Zayne presses his lips against the sensitive spot of your neck, ‘So fucking wet just for me.’

You whine as your hand blindly reaches for his cock. You can’t take this anymore. You needed more. And today, for no particular reason, seems to have you both riled and wanting more. ‘P-please Zayne, I-I can’t take it.’

He chuckled, his fingers gliding down and slipping inside of you. ‘You can take it,’ he reassured, ‘You can take all of me just like you have been all these months.’

Caleb was coming home tomorrow.

That was what you had told yourself over and over again since you had woken up. You thought about him in the shower. While you were attending a patient’s wound dressing. While you ate lunch after your quickie with Zayne. And even now, laying in bed your eyes bore into the ceiling. Caleb was coming home tomorrow. Your head turned to your bedside alarm and sighed. Sleep won’t come easy tonight. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

You thought of Zayne. He was different today and you couldn’t pinpoint why. It was nothing out of the ordinary for you two to have sex. In fact, you almost had it scheduled every week. It was a mutual companionship you both had expressed was purely physical and even productive. As you shed away all the stresses of work and the world, you were able to relax in the comfort of convenience in one of your oldest friends’ arms.

And yet there was something about him today that was foreign. In the way he kept you close to him. Visiting you on the ward in the middle of the shift. Asking if you had lunch even though you normally skipped it in return for finishing work early. And how he had kissed you after you had come around his cock, mouth hard and earnest against you.

Your eyes remain closed, pictures of Zayne’s hot body pressed against yours. His hands roaming every inch of your skin. You bit down on your lip. Mindlessly, you let your hands start to feel up your body. The soft silky nightgown (a humorous birthday gift from Zayne last year) falling off your shoulder and exposing one of your breasts. You let out a soft sigh as you palm and pinch at your nipples.

‘Am I interrupting something?’

Fuck.

You could have swore you were dreaming at the sound of his voice. Eyes wide open you sit up, linen pooling around your waist as your eyes directly meet Caleb’s.

Mouth agape, like a fish out of water, you stare at him. Caleb. He stood by the doorframe of your bedroom, body leaning against it as one leg crossed over the other. His arms were folded and a smirk spread across his pink lips. It took you a moment to register who was standing before you. ‘Caleb?’

If Caleb grew a head taller than you after graduation that summer, then he must have grown another foot. His shadow loomed over you. His broad shoulders stretched the thick fabric of his military jacket as he uncrossed his arms and brought his hand up in a mock salute. ‘Nice to see you too Pipsqueak,’ he sings. His violet gaze flickers to your chest and you scramble to pull the sheet up to your chest. But you were too transfixed at the sight of him.

‘So this is how you kept yourself busy while I was gone?’

Pushing off the doorframe he walks into the room slowly. The leather boots and the sound of your breathing filling the bedroom. ‘I thought you were coming back tomorrow.’

Caleb shrugged, ‘I lied.’

He walked around the bed with slow steps. As if with every stomp of his boot, another thought came to his mind. The air around you drew cold and tense. And an air of uncertainty filtered into your bedroom window.

It was late at night. And in this hour, the moonlight painted silver stripes into your room. It shone across your bedsheets and highlighted the violet gaze which never left yours. It was as if the centre of gravity had shifted. And nothing but Caleb’s gaze was holding you down in the bed. You couldn’t even cover yourself, your breast bare to him. You were frozen.

‘I wanted to surprise you. But it looks like you had other things going on.’

You didn’t understand. This was not Caleb. Your Caleb wouldn’t speak the way he is speaking right now. With this air of fear and uncertainty you swallowed down your dry throat. ‘Caleb what happened-’

He stopped at the foot of the bed abruptly and turned to you. ‘One year Pipsqueak.’ he snarled, reaching forward and gripping the edge of the bedframe. ‘I was gone for one year and you had the nerve to go and fuck Zayne? Out of all fucking people?’

You were stunned.

Caleb let out a laugh you could only decipher as mockery. ‘You even went ahead and became a nurse for him! Just like I thought you would,’ he laughed. He took off his hat and your chest heaved as you fully took in his face. Pieces of short dark locks fell above his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. He placed his hat on your bed. The leather gloves tighten its grip against the wooden bedframe.

‘H-How did you know?’

There was no point denying it at this point. But if the man in front of you was truly Caleb, then you had to know how he came to know the secret arrangement you had with Zayne this whole time he was at the DAA.

Caleb snickered, ‘I always knew Pipsqueak.’

He pushed himself off the bedframe and made his way around to the side of the bed. There he stood over you, his shadow eclipsing the moonlight seeping from the window. In the dark, his violet eyes were shining with a sinister glint. He grinned, ‘It was just a matter of what I would do when I came home.’

You felt powerless. Your eyes couldn’t believe that Caleb was here. After a year of mourning his presence, missing him, the Caleb that returned was unrecognisable. Caleb smirked at your face. He could tell you were afraid. It excited him. It excited him even more to see how unfazed you were having your chest so exposed to him. His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. ‘How long have you been fucking him?’

Your eyes narrowed, ‘I thought you knew everything, Colonel.’

Caleb quickly brought his hand under your chin, the leather of his glove pressing into your skin. He jerks your head closer to him as he leans in, ‘I want you to admit how much of a slut you are.’

‘You couldn’t even wait for me, Pipsqueak,’ he feigned sorrow, ‘You just had to jump onto the next guy that offered you cock.’

You scoffed and tried to pull away from his grasp. But Caleb held onto you tightly, his thumb pinching your chin tightly, ‘Caleb you’re hurting me-’

‘How long?’ he presses.

Your skin was on fire with the intensity of Caleb’s gaze searing into you.

‘Since I started working at Akso.’

He pulled you closer, you could smell him. Smoke and citrus. His lips were almost brushing against yours, his long lashes brushing your cheek as he turned to whisper into your ear. ‘You know you belong to me.’

You shuddered at his words and swallowed.

At this point your breasts were aching, begging to be touched. And the absolute terror Caleb reigned over you had all the more brought out the tingling sensation of your arousal.

He drew only a breath back, his grasp on your chin loosening only a fraction as his eyes stared into yours. Caleb smirked as he feels you practically lean further into his touch. ‘Well?’ he asked, cocking his head to the side in feigned interest, ‘Say it.’

A flash of confusion crosses your eyes before you blink away at his request. ‘What?’

Caleb brings a knee onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. He tilts your head up, ‘Say you belong to me.’

A silver shine catches your eyes and your lips part. There, tucked away under the collar of his fleetspace uniform, lay the familiar silver chain. Caleb watches your gaze flicker back to his, and notices the wet shine in your eyes.

When U Come Back.

‘I’m yours, Caleb,’ you choke out, tears threatening to slip against the burning of your cheeks,’I belong to you.’

His mouth crashes into yours almost violently as he pushes you back down into the bed. You land with a soft thud, his gloved hand catching the back of your head as he grasps a fist full of your hair.

A grunt escapes your lips and you gasp as Caleb slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes as good as he smells as he wedges a muscled thigh between your legs. You try to shake the thought that this man on top of you was the same sweet boy who had always played with you at school. The same boy that held your backpack when it was too heavy. The same one that would tie your shoelaces.

The loud crash of boots disappear in the background as Caleb kicks them off and turns your head to the side. He wastes no time in running his other hand up your side as he presses sloppy wet kisses down your throat. ‘You grew into such a pretty slut,’ he teased as he massaged into your side, ‘Do you wear these things every night hoping someone would find you?’

At this point your panting and Caleb chuckles at the sight. He’s proud to see such a reaction out of you. Flushed cheeks. Hair tousled and sticking to your forehead. Your lips parted and almost dry from all the airy breaths.

His nose brushes against your skin as he kisses his way down to your chest, ‘Or were you wearing this knowing I would be knocking on your door in the morning, Pipsqueak?’

Balling your fists, you held onto the sheets tightly. Cocky bastard. Your knees closed in one another, locking Caleb into place. Your eyes darted to him and you sneered, ‘Maybe I was expecting a certain doctor instead.’

The growl erupted from Caleb was carnal. You watched in a trance as he licked a stripe down the fold of your cleavage. ‘Shut the fuck up.’

Your laughter was cut short when Caleb took your breast into his mouth. He sucks roughly at your nipple, grazing at it with his teeth. He hums in approval when you let out a gutteral groan, ‘Fuck.’

His other hand lets go of your head and reaches towards your throat. In a firm grasp, he holds you down as he continues to lap at your tits. ‘That’s right baby,’ he released your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ before kissing his way to the other. He draws a circle with his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his teeth. ‘Your tits are so fucking perfect.’

If Zayne was gentle, then Caleb was brutal.

If Zayne was considerate, then Caleb was selfish.

If Zayne was your comfort, then Caleb was your undoing.

You were squirming and your pussy was throbbing beneath your nightgown. And, unknowing to the man hovering above you, you were completely exposed. After all you lived alone, why wear underwear around the house? Saves on laundry.

As if he can scent you, Caleb pulls himself up and cages you under him. He rips off his gloves and jacket, leaving him in his white slacks and button down. His black tie dangles in your face as he leans down. ‘I can smell how fucking wet you are Pipsqueak,’ he muses. He palms his hard cock under his pants, begging for release. But he remains measured, composed. ‘Let me fuck you and I’ll make sure you never need to touch anyone else but me again.’

His words were seeping into your bones as his deep breaths masked his self restraint. You can feel the sheets curl beneath you as he fists the linen in earnest. With heavy lids you avert your gaze, the boldness of his attitude pinning you down. ‘But Zayne is so good to me…’

It was a mistake to even think of another man whilst Caleb practically hunted you down. At the sound of another man’s name, your childhood best friend snarled as he pulled down his pants swiftly.

Holy shit.

He was huge, even in his large grasp. You watch with mouth agape as Caleb lazily fisted his cock above you. His brows furrowed and his violet glare sent shockwaves all over you. He smirked, ‘Zayne might be good to you baby…’

‘But I’m not going to hold back.’

He leant forward once more and you gasp at the hard thickness of Caleb’s cock pressing against your stomach. You groan as he teases the tip of his cock down your navel to the top of your swollen clit. The hardened bud was throbbing and aching and practically begging for any friction. Your hands hold onto the sides of his biceps, the strong corded muscles shifting under his thin shirt.

He chuckled, ‘I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to take everything I’ll give you.’

There was no question in his tone and no room for even doubt before Caleb pushed his hard cock inside you. You let out a yelp at the sheer force of him stretching inside of your pussy. Your fingernails dig into his arms deeper as you moan, ‘Holy shit.’

‘Fucking hell,’ Caleb muttered, drawing his hips back and watching the length of his cock disappear inside of you with a quick snap. The force of his weight moved your body against the bed, the sound of his pelvis meeting yours.

It wasn’t long for you to adjust to him. Your body was practically moulding beneath him, accommodating to every curve and every inch of his hard cock as Caleb begins a brutal pace. ‘Take it for me,’ he muttered, throwing his leather gloves off and finding his hands gripping onto your hips firmly.

The sound was filthy, your wet pussy slobbering all over Caleb’s length as he continuously pulls you into him. You pant and writhe beneath him, ‘Caleb it’s too much-‘

He huffed as he continued to fuck you harder, ‘No it’s not enough,’ he decided. Your eyes were watery at the overwhelming sensation of his touch. There was no time for you to even register him flipping you over to your stomach.

You whine at the sudden loss of him pulling out of you.‘See?’ he sneered, pushing you down and lifting your hips up. His large hands, calloused and rough compared to Zayne’s, kneaded into the soft flesh of your ass. Caleb hums as he palms your soft skin before delivering a loud slap onto you.

‘Ah! Caleb!’

You shudder with each delivering blow, your back arched as your moans muffle through your pillow. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets as the stinging heat of your skin continued.

You can hear the sound of buttons popping and a soft thud onto the ground as Caleb strips himself off from his clothes. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of him naked before you, dressed in nothing but a skimpy silk nightgown.

Caleb reaches for you, grabs a fistful of your hair and jerks your head up. Before you could protest, he stuffs his fingers into your mouth and shoves the black cloth of his tie into it. The sound of your surprise is muffled and gagged.

‘Now I wouldn’t have to hear you say any other name again.’

He wastes no time in pushing himself back into you. The thick head of his cock parting the soaking folds of your pussy before practically sucking him in. Caleb moans, his grip on your ass tightening as he stills inside of you. ‘Fuck,’ he laughs, ‘You’re pussy is so fucking tight.’

He snaps into you, ass in the air as his hips meet yours. You fall back into the mattress, hands bracing before you as your muffled moans fill the room.

‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’ Caleb asks as he pounds into you, pace relentless, ‘Your pussy was practically calling my name the minute I stepped into your apartment.’

His cock throbbed inside of you, penetrating your walls in an unforgiving manner. He was so thick and long and fuck you wanted to come so badly.

Caleb leans forward, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you up. Your back is flush against him and the hard muscles of his stomach heave behind you. He fucks up into you, the new angle giving him an even deeper access. His other hand reaches around to your bundle of nerves. ‘This clit is mine,’ he whispers in your ear. The sight of his tie balled up into your mouth turned him on so much. In fact, the sight of you completely reduced to nothing but a cock drunk slut gave him such euphoria.

‘Do you even know how much I missed you?’ he seethed, his fingertips circling your clit as he continued to pound into you. His hips jerking forward with so much intensity you were practically bouncing in the air.

You cry as Caleb’s cock presses itself into your G-spot. The massage of his thick bulbous tip grinding against you was enough to have you standing just by the edge.

Caleb slowed his pace just a fraction as if he could sense how close you were. His hands disappeared from your clit much to your protest. Pushing you off from him, Caleb flipped you back onto your back.

Pulling the gag out of your mouth, Caleb’s eyes were clouded full of lust and desire as you wet your lips. ‘I missed you,’ you return, panting and gasping for air.

Delight flickered in his eyes as Caleb pushing your thighs back towards your chest. He held your thighs there as he lined himself up to your entrance. ‘Fucking liar,’ he chuckled before spitting onto your clit. You moan and swear as the dollop of spit glides down your folds.

‘If you really missed me you would have saved yourself for me.’

He grabs his cock in a tight fist, his other hand holding you open before him. He teases the tip of his cock, covering it in the mixture of your slick and his saliva.

‘Please Caleb,’ you beg.

The sound was glorious. This was all he ever wanted. He didn’t care about anything else. All he wanted was you. And seeing you beneath him, practically a body full of lust and heat and want. It was driving him crazy. He would almost forgive you for what you have done. The betrayal you have committed.

‘Please, please-‘

Caleb fucks you like never before. He enters so smoothly before holding onto your thighs and pounding into you mercilessly. You moan his name over and over again. Caleb grunts in approval, the sight of your tits bouncing sending him over the edge.

‘Your pussy is mine,’ he declares.

You nod in a dazed state, ‘It’s yours.’

His thrusts drove deeper, bottoming out so his balls were flush against you. You let out a long whine, hands clutching onto your tits. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t think of anything else but Caleb fucking you so good. Your fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, palming and kneading your soft breasts.

‘That’s right baby,’ Caleb sighs at the sight, drinking you in. ‘Play with your tits as I fuck into you.’

His words turned you on so much. The filthy sounds of you fucking and his degrading tone left you feeling an incredible high. You knew you were close.

‘I’m going to come inside of you and you’re going to take it for me. You’re going to be a good girl for once and fucking take it.’

You nod. At this point you were agreeable to anything as long as Caleb continued to fuck you. You chew onto your bottom lip, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his cock continuously hitting that delicious spot.

‘That’s it baby,’ he moans, ‘Fuck you look so good taking my cock like that.’

Your mouth was dry as you stare into him. His foggy gaze was determined and shadowed with an almost animalistic lust. Your hands cup your breasts as you continue to bounce off him.

Fuck, he was going to come. The sight of you was too much. And at the edge of his unraveling, you leaned forward and pressed your mouth onto his. Your tongue lapped at his bottom lip before sinking your teeth into his flesh. Sucking at his lip, you moaned as his silver necklace pressed against your breast.

His kiss was hot and reckless. Losing all sense of control, you feel your own unraveling come before you. Letting out a long whine your pussy clenches around Caleb’s cock as you feel yourself coming over him. It was too much. All too much. The intense pull of your pussy and the taste of your tongue and the smell of you hair was driving Caleb closer and closer to the point of no return.

‘That’s right, come around my cock,’ he shuddered, ‘Show me how good my cock makes your pussy feel.’

His handprints were branding marks on your skin as Caleb delivers his final crushing thrusts into your pussy, claiming all that you could give to him. A wave of pleasure crashed into him as Caleb’s pace faltered. ‘Fuck!’

Hot white ropes of Caleb’s come seeps into you as he continues to fuck into your pussy. You moan his name several times, wrapping your arms around his neck. Caleb brings his arms around you, holding you above him as you grind onto his cock milking his come out of him.

‘Don’t stop fucking moving,’ he commanded, panting into your ear as you grind against him.

You moan loudly as you lazily roll your hips against him, chasing your high as your legs wrapped around his waist with Caleb sat on his knees under you. Your clit, swollen and tortured, rubs against his groin as you feel his come fill you up entirely.

Your hands run through his hair, sweaty and ruffled as you stare into his half-lidded gaze. His eyes flickered to your tongue as it sweeps over your swollen bottom lip. Caleb leans in to kiss you. This time it was more gentle, more soft. Almost tender.

You both take a moment to catch your breaths. Limbs still tangled and entwined, you remain still together in the bed. His cock was still warm inside of you. You didn’t care to move.

You sniffle at the sight of him. ‘How long are you here for?’ you whisper.

In the darkest of hour in the night, despite your loud rendezvous moments ago, your question was quiet and filled with fear and anxiety. Caleb is back. And you don’t think you could ever see him leave again.

Caleb offers you a small smile, arms wrapping around your waist again as you push back his hair from his sweaty forehead. ‘I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be, Pipsqueak,’ he teased. You grunt and slap his chest to which he burst into laughter. The tension in your shoulders lifting at the sound.

Caleb grins and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes as he brings his hand to cup the back of your neck. Pulling you down, his forehead presses against yours.

‘I came back for you, Pipsqueak.’

Your breath hitches as you can feel Caleb’s cock growing hard again inside of you. His other hand resting on the side of your thigh, his thumb massaging soft circles into your hot skin. The fire in your chest reignites at the carnal desire growing back in his violet eyes.

‘I won’t be leaving anytime soon.’

#lads #lads smut #love and deepspace #love and deep space #lads caleb #lads zayne #lads fic #caleb x reader #zayne x reader #caleb x mc #zayne x mc #caleb smut #zayne smut #caleb fanfic

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visual-sculptors · 2 years ago

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Distinguish yourself through our exceptional design solutions - presentations that eloquently convey their message - Visual Sculptors

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venus-haze · 2 years ago

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Lay All Your Love on Me (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: A communication breakdown has unintended consequences, but it’s all because Homelander loves you.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on a request from @judyfromfinance and the ABBA song which is so Homelander coded. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Jealousy, possessive behavior, violence (not toward the reader). We love miscommunication for plot reasons here! Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander had no reason to believe you were hiding from him. Your job kept you busy, and ironically enough, working for the same company didn’t guarantee that you’d see each other nearly as much as he’d like. When his texts went unanswered and he couldn’t so much as hear you during the day, though, his mind went into overdrive presenting him with every worst case scenario it could possibly conceive of.

Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

His gloved hands balled into fists at his side. You would never cheat on him. He knew that. He did. But sometimes, it seemed like your heart didn’t ache for him the way his did for yours. You had a life outside of him, and as much as you tried to include him in it, he resisted. Things would be easier if it were just the two of you.

Trying your phone again, he called you, frustrated when it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Give me a call back as soon as you can. I love you,” he said, adding a quick. “Call me back" for emphasis.

He groaned, throwing his phone aside and folding his arms over his chest. It was fine. He didn’t care that much anyway. At least that’s what he told himself as he glanced at his discarded phone every few seconds in hopes you’d call or text back. No dice.

As a last resort, he headed to the crime analytics department. You managed a small team of analysts who consulted with the state and federal government on Vought’s behalf. The two of you had met when Vought was trying to get supes in the military, and as far as Homelander was concerned, it was love at first sight.

Never mind that it took a few weeks to win you over, frustratingly committed to your job and hesitant to date a coworker. Even though he’d hardly consider the two of you coworkers. Sure, you both worked for Vought, but that was it as far as he was concerned. In his determination to woo you, he’d made some valuable connections in your department. At least, people who he knew would have some kind of scoop on you when he needed it.

“Hey Annika,” Homelander said, startling the young crime analyst as he approached her desk. “How’re you doing, pal?

“Hi Homelander,” she said, not quite able to keep eye contact with him. “Sir. I’m good. H-How are you?”

“You haven’t seen Y/N around today, have you?”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Alright,” he said tensely, a painfully fake smile spreading across his face. “Keep up the good work.”

His smile faltered as he heard your name come up in a conversation on the other side of the room. A masculine voice, younger than his, far too much mirth for his liking when he spoke about you.

“Dude, I was in Y/N’s office for like an hour yesterday. I could barely concentrate. They are so fine.”

“You’re insane,” someone else laughed.

“What? Have you seen them?”

“They’re dating Homelander, dumbass.”

“Whatever. It won’t last. He and Maeve will get back together, and yours truly will be there to pick up the pieces.”

“If you say so.”

Homelander hadn’t noticed his eyes glowing red until Annika squeaked. Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, he looked at his…acquaintance.

“See you around,” he said, his chipper tone clearly strained.

Since you weren’t answering your phone and he still had no clue where you were, Homelander had all the time in the world to wait around for your sleazy subordinate to take a bathroom break. He wondered if you were aware of the man’s interest in you. It was a possibility, but he had to assure himself that you wouldn’t do anything to encourage it. He knew you wouldn’t bother with a miscreant like that, of all people, but the point needed to be made. No one could speak so vulgarly about you and expect him not to do something about it.

Fifteen minutes or so had passed, and Homelander spotted his name badge. Josh.

“Hey Josh! You have a minute, buddy?” Homelander asked, voice booming through the hallway, causing Josh to flinch. Homelander smirked a bit.

“Homelander! Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, actually, I just have a question about the crime analytics office.”

Josh nodded. “Sure, anything.”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there?”

“Wh-What?”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there? Maybe a keg and some drunk idiots wearing togas?”

“I don’t—“

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Then why were you in there talking about my partner like you were in a fucking frat house?” Homelander asked, cornering the slimy analyst. “You know Y/N and I are dating, right? Your idiot friend told you as much.”

Josh’s mouth flopped open and closed like one of the disgusting fish The Deep crusaded for. “I—I didn’t mean—“

“So either you’re incredibly stupid, or you have a death wish. Which one is it, buddy?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Homelander.”

Homelander chuckled, empty and hollow, reveling in the way he could practically smell the fear radiating off of the man in front of him. “You will be.”

With the way Josh was carrying on, Homelander would’ve thought he’d actually killed the guy. All he’d done was snap his arm and throw an elbow to his nose. He’d just bought the asshole a free rhinoplasty, far more generous than he deserved after what he did.

Homelander sneered at the blubbering crime analyst, work shirt covered in his own blood. Pathetic, really. And he had the audacity to act like he was worthy of you. Throwing one final glare Josh’s way, Homelander walked off, wiping the blood off his gloves and onto his suit. It could be dry-cleaned out.

The outburst made him feel better than he had all day, though it didn’t answer the question of where the hell you were and why you weren’t answering him. Besides, he swore he heard the familiar sound of your footfall in the lobby.

He supposed you wouldn’t be too happy if you came back to see one of your subordinates brutalized in the hallway. Just his luck, he spotted an intern in one of the unoccupied offices.

“Hey,” Homelander said, pausing a moment to read the intern’s badge, “Sammy, there’s a mess over by the crime analytics office, can you get someone to clean it up?”

“Sure,” Sammy responded cheerfully.

“Thanks, it’s the little things that make this place run. You’re doing great,” he complimented, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Sammy returned his smile, obviously not questioning his sincerity. Homelander knew if he framed the whole thing as a favor, she’d be more likely to follow through. It was always good to have reliable people in his back pocket for things like that, worker bees who thought they were friends or something. She walked off, strides purposeful as she set off to complete her personal mission from Homelander.

Rushing over to the elevator, he listened for you, getting out on the fifteenth floor where he saw you just as you walked out of the bathroom.

As soon as he made eye contact, he melted, making a beeline for you.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around Homelander. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Where were you?” he asked, almost painfully returning your embrace.

“I told you I was presenting for the security council at the UN all day. No phones, remember?”

He huffed, releasing you from the hug. Fuck. “I guess—maybe that rings a bell. You shouldn’t tell me something so important while I’m distracted.”

“How much did you miss me?” you teased, holding up your pointer finger and thumb to pinch the air. “This much?” You spread your fingers wider. “This much?” Wider again, except before you could ask, Homelander scooped you up in his arms.

“Why don’t I show you?”

“Please do,” you said, tilting your head up to kiss him.

He retreated into the elevator with you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss laced with longing. You giggled at him. You’d only been gone for a few hours, yet he was acting as though it had been days.

You missed him too, resolving to focus your attention on him for the rest of the night.

Until your phone rang.

“I should get this.”

“Now you’re able to pick up a call?” he grumbled, setting you down.

“One minute,” you whispered, grabbing your phone, “then I’m all yours.”

He pressed the button to his suite, having forgotten to do so in the heat of passion. “You better be.”

You picked up your phone, amused at Homelander still clinging to you, kissing your neck. “Hello?”

“Josh from crime analytics?” you asked, tensing a bit when Homelander grazed his teeth on the crook of your neck. “I haven’t heard from him since he gave me the homicide report yesterday.”

Homelander hummed against your skin, and you let out a whimper only he could hear at the way it vibrated through you. He was smug, and it took you a moment to piece together why.

“Okay, talk to you tomorrow,” you said before hanging up. “What did you do?”

“Something chivalrous to defend your honor,” he mumbled, his lips unrelenting on your shoulder as he pulled your shirt down to expose it.

“I guess I should thank you properly, then? My knight in shining armor?”

He lifted his head, grinning, “If you insist.”

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys x reader #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys #homelander

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back2bluesidex · 8 months ago

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Slide - The Ultimate Decision - MYG

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 2.2k+

Summary:

"I can't feel my legs Hop right on the ledge, jump right off the edge"

Alternatively,

Worst decisions are always driven by anger and alcohol; but sometimes those are also driven by Love.

Warnings: so much angst, reader's inner turmoil, unplanned pregnancy, yoongi is making things worse, Hoseok is the doctor but he is not to be shipped with the reader here, he is a catalyst though, pining, so much pining.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

A/N: The next chapter from the present timeline.

Taglist requests are closed for now

Read the next chapter

You fumble with your phone, scrolling down numbers after numbers but can’t find a single contact you can call at a time like this.

The pregnancy testing kit lies on your left hand as if it has been tattooed on your skin. For some reason, you don’t feel dread creeping up through the path of your neck.

Should you cry? Should you call Yoongi and curse him to your heart’s content? Should you ask him to take the responsibility when he is about to start living his old happy life again?

Probably you should.

But the thing is… you can’t bring yourself to do any of those.

You don’t even know what you should feel or what you need to feel at a moment like this.

You don’t even have any idea of what’s going to be your next move.

Will you keep the baby? Or will you choose to abort it?

But before everything, you should consult with someone, who is wiser than you.

Your fingers hover above your mother’s contact ID, even though you know your calls are going to go unnoticed, unanswered, ignored as if you never came out of her womb.

And things will turn even uglier if she answers your call and you manage to tell her what you have done to yourself, more or less willingly.

So you let your phone fall limp on your lap.

How funny - you have absolutely no one to confide in. no family, no friends, no one.

As soon as the realization hits, your eyes start turning blurry.

Tear drops escape one by one, dampening your cheeks, throat, collarbones. You caress your stomach.

“What do I do now?” the mumble comes out choked. And then you are thinking of him again.

How he cried in his sleep the first time you brought him here with you. How he repeated his actions again during his last visit here.

Both of the time you stood on the sidelines, the center of his universe has always been Gyuri.

In the end, though, you have been the one affected - with blooming warmth in your chest and in turn a presence of life in your womb.

As you think of Yoongi, your mind runs back to the man who had helped you in picking him up from the streets.

You still remember, his card said he was an obgyn.

Your tears cease.

Yes. As much as you need a friend or family right now, you need an expert too.

Standing abruptly from your bed, you run toward the other side of it, reaching out for the night stand, where you had kept the man’s card more than a year ago.

You don’t have to struggle much to find out the card, it’s there as if it has been waiting to be found all these times.

Holding the card in your hand, opens the flood gate of fresh memory of that night, of Yoongi’s dirty face, vomit all over his clothes and him holding you tightly in his sleep.

That was the first and last time.

He never held you for a second time, unless you were having sex.

Pushing down the depressing thoughts, you grab your phone and with swift fingers dial the number of the man - Jung Hoseok.

The clock reads 9 pm on a Wednesday night. And you pray, this is not past his business hours, he has no such mentions in the card as well.

The universe seems to grant your prayer this time, probably out of sheer pity, as the man accepts the call on the fourth ring.

“Hello, It’s Dr. Jung Hoseok, how can I help you?” The man speaks with a professional tone that sets you on an unexplainable ease.

“Hi, uh, I am sorry to call you like this but I had managed to get my hands on your card and I think I need your help. I, um, I’m pregnant. And I think I need an appointment.” your hands start sweating now when you realize all of it is real. You are pregnant with the baby of a man who doesn’t love you.

Pathetic.

“How many weeks are you?” the man asks with the same professional pronunciation.

“I don’t know. I just found out a few minutes ago. This is my first time and I don’t know what to do.” you speak honestly.

These are the same words you want to confess to a friend, to your mother as well and most importantly to Yoongi. But talking to a stranger, about how helpless you are, is much less nerve-wracking.

“You are not a teenager, are you?” he speaks, suspicion laced in his voice.

A sudden chuckle leaves your throat, “I’m twenty seven.”

The other side of the line only hums and then after a beat he says, “we usually don’t accept appointments made via phone calls but I can guide you on how to book one. If that’s okay with you?”

“Anything is okay with me.”

And you are not lying. At this hour, alone in your apartment, robbed off options, in the lack of a confidant - any assistance is okay with you.

Any assistance is fine if that means you will be able to figure out what you are going to do with a baby in your womb, gifted by the man whom you let destroy yourself for the sake of love.

The appointment is due at 3 in the afternoon and right now the clock is at 1:26.

The hospital is an hour's drive away, hence, if you leave now, you will still have a 30 minutes on your hand.

But the problem is that you didn’t inform anyone formally about this secretive appointment. Applying an official leave would raise questions about the nature and reason of the appointment and you don’t want that.

You want to protect this truth with every drop of blood your body owns.

So, you decide to quickly drop by Namjoon's office and tell him you need the rest of the day off for some emergency.

For a matter you know Namjoon is not privy enough to inquire about the so-called emergency.

Much to your dismay, your plans shatter like a porcelain vase as soon as you open the door of Namjoon’s office. Because one, there is no Namjoon, two, there is Min Yoongi.

Yoongi’s expression mimics yours as he takes you in, standing there, staring at him as if he didn’t fuck you raw and left you with consequences just a month ago.

But then again… a month of radio silence, a month of stolen glances, a month of no skin contact, a month of no Min Yoongi was more painful than you’d dare to admit.

Your heart thumps inside your chest as you realize, you are standing in front of the man whose baby is currently in your womb.

You are carrying a baby! And that’s Min Yoongi’s! Screams your mind at the loudest possible volume.

But still, by some miraculous strength, you manage to smile at him.

A casual, nonchalant smile as you are used to.

Except this time, Yoongi doesn’t smile back.

He looks at you with eyes so deep that you fear you will succumb to them yet again if you stay here for a moment longer.

“Where’s Namjoon?” you get straight to the point, without wasting your time in any greeting.

“Y/N. Wait.” but you have always been weak to the way Yoongi calls your name. This time, you are hearing it after what feels like an eternity.

“He went out to escort a guest.” Yoongi says, flatly, his tone devoid of any emotions. It’s tough to believe he cried in your arms a month ago.

“Oh. Then can you please let him know that I have an emergency and I have left for the day? Thank you.” you don’t wait for his reply as you start turning your heels to run away already.

His voice works like glue and stops you in your tracks. You are now unable to move. A cold, calloused palm comes in contact with your upper arm, forcing you to face the man.

When you face him, you see his face and expression has softened. The stoic expression is now gone and you are afraid of what to make out of it.

This is not pity, is it?

“How are you? It’s been so long- I wanted to see you but-”

“But there is no reason to do so, right?” you finish his sentence for him, “I am fine, Yoongi. How are you? How’s Gyuri?”

“All good.” he ignores the mention of the woman, "What's the emergency? Are you alright?” He places the back of his palm on your forehead, checking your body temperature.

Your eyes fill to the brim. You need to leave right now or you will start crying.

“I- I’m fine.” you lie, removing his hand from your skin, “it’s just something personal.”

Yoongi frowns at that “oh. You can tell me. If you need any he-”

“I can take care of it myself, Yoongi. You have a life to lead, you have better days ahead now, why would you even care about me? I was just a fleeting chapter anyway. Please- please don’t act like our time together meant anything to you. Please, I beg.” try as you might, you couldn’t contain it anymore.

Just like you, Yoongi, too, is taken aback with your outburst. Though his eyes are kind, if you dare to add, then those might as well be in pain.

But his next words only break you further, “wasn’t it a given? A silent agreement that our time together wouldn’t mean much to any of us?”

Is he challenging you? Trying to elicit a further reaction? Is it a knife to dig more in your fresh wounds?

If yes, then you will do everything to disappoint him.

You nod, “Yeah. You are right. Forget I have said anything. Bye.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something but you are faster than his words. Before he manages to say a word, you are out of the door and shutting it on his face.

He is cruel.

He has always been.

But you still love him.

You have always had.

The fact that Yoongi can be a little heartless has never been a shock to you.

Nevertheless, it didn’t harm you any less when he let those careless words out of his mouth. Then again, you can not even blame him because you had been the one to place your heart in his hands and asked him to play with it.

In the end, it’s your fault.

And you are already paying the price in more ways than one.

“Miss Y/N?” a nurse calls your name, pulling you out of your miserable thoughts, “you can go in now.”

With a bow and a forced smile you leave the waiting area and enter the OPD room.

A man is sitting at the desk, with his scrubs and white coat on, the nameplate on the table says he is the one who helped you out that night. He is Jung Hoseok.

You failed to look at his face that night, being too busy with tending Yoongi. But now that you are looking at him, he seems to be the embodiment of everything that’s positive, light, bright - much unlike you (or Yoongi for that matter).

His eyes light up as he takes you in, with a big smile he says, “oh? You are Miss Y/N? I remember you clearly. Please take the seat.”

You wonder how it's even possible to recall you after seeing you once, that too a year ago, “You do?”

“Yes. I still remember that night and your friend.” He mentions Yoongi.

If he sees the man’s mention dims you even further then he doesn’t say anything but he chooses to change the topic right away, “have you filled the form?”

“Yes.” you hand him the piece of paper.

He goes through it all at once, probably having everything memorized, but his eyes get stuck at one point. And you have an idea what it can be.

“As I can see, you have not added anyone as your closest contact?” he says with a careful tone.

“Yes.” you reply briefly.

“You need to add one person at least, maybe a friend, or a family, or the father of the baby.” he suggests.

“I- No one knows about this just yet. I don’t have any immediate friend or family who could help me out.” your hands are now shaking.

“Sorry to pry, but what about the father of the baby?” Jung Hoseok leans a little further on the table, as if trying to measure your facial expressions.

“He is unaware of the situation.”

“Are you sure you want the baby?” he voices in the softest possible tone anyone has ever used against you.

“Yes. I want to keep the baby.” and that’s it. If the baby is one last proof of what Yoongi had with you for no less than a year, if the baby is a proof that Yoongi had once held you, cried in your arms, dipped inside you to forget his own complications, then you want to keep it.

And this will be your ultimate decision no matter what anyone else says.

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colebabey888 · 8 months ago

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Financing 101: Handling your money| IT GIRL DIARIES

A few financial tips my father shared with me that has kept me secure and taught me valuable lessons on saving and future planning..

When it comes to managing your money, always apply the 30:30:30:10 rule. This means allocating 30% towards your day-to-day or monthly expenses, 30% towards investments, 30% for future retirement savings, and 10% for your wants and luxuries.

I consider myself fortunate to live with my parents, which means I don’t have to cover utilities or household expenses. However, instead of spending all of my income on luxuries and my wants, I divide it thoughtfully. I allocate 15% more towards investments, ensuring that my money works for me and provides a return. The remaining 15% is set aside and added to my personal wants and luxuries.

Don't use the full amount for luxuries because you want to make sure that you are using the extra funds wisely. This way, you can contribute towards your future plans, even if while living with parents. It’s important to enjoy the present, but always be prepared for the future.

Never keep all your money in one bank account. There are several reasons for this. If you don’t see your money, you’re less likely to spend it, by keeping your investments and savings in a separate account that you rarely check, you’re less tempted to dip into them so keep them separate from your regular income in a different bank account. Also having your money spread out in multiple accounts is much more safer than having it all in one place.

Always put your savings and investments into a high yield savings account so that your money doesn't lose value due to inflation overtime and you profit through interest return.

If you notice your income increasing significantly, it might be wise to consult a financial advisor or get an accountant. A professional can provide valuable advice on how to save, invest, and manage your growing assets effectively.

Use a separate bank account for online shopping. Opt for digital payment platforms like PayPal or Venmo. Even with reputable brands, it’s safer not to provide your primary bank details. I personally use a completely separate account for online shopping, only transferring money when needed, and it has kept me secure for a long time.

mwah! xoxo, colebabey8.88

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jdclee · 3 months ago

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I do wish some of the "Cobel's reveal came out of nowhere" crowd would pause to consider that maybe, just maybe, this might be an unconscious bias that makes it seem like such a crazy plot development. I don't think people are actually consciously deciding that they don't think an older woman could've invented the technology. But when the reasons why it doesn't make sense are so absurd like:

"She's always been a middle manager" which no, obviously, she wasn't. The mystery around Cobel, who always acted really fucking weird and obsessed with the severance technology to the point that she pretended to be oMark's neighbor and Devon's lactation consultant, was present from day one.

"We're supposed to believe she created this entire thing by herself," like clearly not. Having the blueprints doesn't mean you physically made the entire tech by yourself, but pretending that you actually think the writer's are saying that is obtuse.

"The writer's decided this last minute, there's no way they planned this from the beginning" when again no, the mystery about Cobel's motives was a big focal point of season one, not to mention the creators have said they've planned out everything about the character arcs.

Then I think the real reason might run a little deeper.

Just saying, if Cobel had been a white man who was also obsessed with monitoring both Marks, took an intense, personal interest in the severed floor, tried to pair up iMark and Ms. Casey as much as possible while observing them like a scientist, knew scientific info about the chip, was able to successfully remove the chip from Petey's head, knew more about reintegration than the board, cared more about being on the severance floor than a so-called promotion, made vague hints about why the company owed him, then literally no one would claim this came out of nowhere. I'm sorry, but those same people would praise it as brilliant reveal (because it is) and say how Cobel as a character makes more sense now (because she does).

#severance #severance season 2 #sweet vitriol #harmony cobel #severance spoilers

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shadowtriovibes · 2 years ago

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it's a sign of the times

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."

the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.

You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.

Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.

You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.

You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).

It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.

“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”

“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.

“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.

You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”

“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”

“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.

“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”

You scoff. Unbelievable.

“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.

You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.

“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.

Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.

“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”

“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.

“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”

“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.

Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.

Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.

“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”

“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”

You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.

One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910

We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.

Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.

Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.

Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.

“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.

“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”

Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.

“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”

“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

“What is it?” you breathe.

“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”

The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.

“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”

“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.

Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”

“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”

Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.

“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”

“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”

“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”

But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.

That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.

Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.

“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”

“Who?” Ominis asks.

“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”

“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”

You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.

Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

At once, the three of you freeze.

“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”

“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”

Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.

Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.

Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.

“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”

“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.

“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.

“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”

“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”

You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.

“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”

“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”

“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.

“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.

“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.

“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”

Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”

“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”

Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”

“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”

Well, that certainly clears things up.

Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.

You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.

“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”

You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.

“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”

“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”

“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”

“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”

“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”

Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.

“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”

Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”

“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.

“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”

“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”

“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”

You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”

“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.

“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”

“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”

“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”

Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”

You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.

The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.

You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.

“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.

“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”

You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”

He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”

“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”

He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.

Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.

“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”

“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”

You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”

You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”

Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.

“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”

---

[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #my fic #time travel #i tried to stick to time-turner lore as much as possible while completely retconning it #(future) dad!bastian

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