#and work out a strategy to retreat

[befuddled-calico-whump]

thinking about a whumpee on a forced march through rough terrain

hands tied in front of them, on foot while their captors are mounted, sleeping out in the open, forced to beg for adequate food and water

maybe they're barefoot, a captured royal in silken robes

maybe they're in a torn suit or soldier's uniform

maybe they were stripped at the start, increasing the exposure to the elements, the humiliation

are they a terrified mess from the beginning, or do they try to endure with dignity? how long before they're stumbling, barely putting one foot in front of the other? how long before they fall?

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ BEGINNER'S LUCK ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you beat him at his own game on livestream, and it's your first time playing

contents: fem!reader. gojo gets slandered by everyone </3 but he slanders toji. again. vague descriptions of what game you guys are playing, imagine whichever game u want.

author's note: thinkin' about making streamer!gojo a series, stay tuned ...

"so you're gonna want to click that when someone attacks you," satoru informs you, hand on your shoulder. his chin rests on the top of your head as he watches you learn the in's and out's of some game he's well-known for streaming. "no, not that one, silly. the other one."

you groan and make a face at the screen in exasperation. "why do all the buttons look the same?" you grumble, drumming your fingers on the table next to his luminescent keyboard. "you better go easy on me when we go live."

satoru laughs and kisses the top of your head before strolling over to his own plush seat next to you. "don't worry, sweetheart. i will, i promise."

a couple minutes later, satoru starts chatting with his thousands of viewers as you puzzle over how to join his co-op lobby. 

toji-fushiguro: is your gf gonna join? ;)

you hear satoru scoff and see him lean closer to the monitor, squinting at the message that mentions you. "i remember you," satoru huffs, white hair falling into his eyes. "you better stop bringing her up or i'll block you, fishface."

a small laugh bubbles out of your lips as satoru continues addressing the flood of comments asking about you. in his last stream, he had mentioned thinking about teaching you to play the game he got famous for, and his viewers reacted more than enthusiastically. "wow, you guys really want to see me win against my own girlfriend?" satoru tsks, wagging his finger at the screen. "nah, i promised i'd go easy on her. i like her more than you faceless strangers on the internet. i'm looking at you, toji."

"satoru?" you whisper, scrunching up your nose when he immediately turns to you, all thoughts of publicly humiliating toji set aside. "how do i... join a co-op session?"

your boyfriend grins and leans over, clicking a couple buttons in too fast of a sequence for you to follow, and soon enough, your avatar stands next to satoru's. "there!"

"thanks," you huff, watching him slide back into his chair and banter with a couple more comments. and moments later, the game starts. satoru starts out with a play-by-play of his actions, making it really easy for you to piece together the strategy and techniques of the game. to your surprise, you don't die that easily — in fact, you eliminate five other players before retreating to the top of a tree to hide.

a couple kills later, you and satoru are some of the last people on the map. satoru makes quick work of the leftovers before stretching his arms and grinning smugly. "looks like i trained you well, darling," he calls, briefly turning to you and blowing a kiss. "now, where are you? come out and let me catch you, baby."

you hum in response, not bothering to come down from your tree. thankfully, the leaves are thick enough to obscure your avatar from satoru's view, and he walks right past you without even bothering to check. you grin and lean in closer to the computer, aiming at his blissfully unaware avatar and—

"what the fuck?" satoru yelps when his avatar crumbles to the ground. a message noting his death appears on his screen, and he turns to you immediately, betrayal evident on his shocked expression. "you shot me in the back!" he whines, getting up and looking at your screen in disbelief. "how could you?!"

you stick your tongue out at him smugly. "i win!" you cheer, and satoru splutters in disbelief, stumbling over his words as he watches you reap the rewards of your win. "i can't believe you lost to a beginner," you muse, rubbing in your victory. "maybe i should take over your stream," you continue, fluttering your eyelashes at satoru as he gapes at your screen.

"it's only 'cause i went easy on you!" satoru huffs, walking back to his chair and requesting a rematch. "this time, i won't be so nice."

the next game, satoru doesn't say anything, ocean-blue eyes focused on his own screen. from the stream opened in the corner of your monitor, you see his comments blow up.

suguru-geto: wow you're really off your game today

inumaki: he just sucks wdym

toji-fushiguro: deserved 💯

you think about hiding in a tree again, but decide against it. satoru would probably expect you to repeat that strategy, and for all you know, he might have an item that could help him sneak up on you. so you run off to an area that's relatively flat and keep an eye out for other users. you eliminate two before you catch a glimpse of satoru in a tree, but just a second later, he vanishes. 

from the corner of your eye, you see satoru mouth "got you" to his screen, and just in time, you dodge an attack you wouldn't have seen otherwise. somehow, your finger slips, and you shoot without aim. and somehow, your aim was on-point — satoru's avatar falls to its knees once more, and satoru groans in defeat.

"why are you good at this?" satoru grumbles, jumping off his seat and strolling over to wear you sit with a cocky smile on your lips. he all but abandons his stream as he walks over and pokes you childishly. satoru watches you eliminate the last two users, and he scoffs at the emblem of victory that lights up your screen. he kisses you begrudgingly and mutters something about losing a bet, to which you kiss his nose affectionately.

"but really," satoru whines, plopping back down in his chair and swiveling it to face you. "how are you so good?! and shut up suguru," he snipes, leering at the chat. "i'm doing fine, she's just insane! and you too, inumaki. there's a reason all your fans are regulars on my stream! because you suck!" at that, you snicker, spinning around in your own chair and half-watching the chat blow up with more of his viewers' thoughts. 

inumaki: SHUT UP U JUST LOST TO A FIRST TIMER

megumi-fushiguro: real 

"oh, shut it, other-fushiguro," satoru scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the chatbox. "at least my hair doesn't look like how little kids draw grass."

you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the laugh threatening to slip out, but when satoru turns and pouts at you, you can't help it. he's so petty and stubborn, but his eyes soften when he sees how big your smile is. and, not to your surprise, he matches your grin with one of his own. satoru draws a heart in the air with both his index fingers and scrunches up his nose at you, and your heart melts.

"you're so stupid," you mumble, watching him kick his feet like an antsy five year-old. satoru opens his arms in response, and no more than two seconds pass before you're nestled in his lap. he's wearing a light blue hoodie and white sweats, and nothing could make you more comfortable than that in the world. you turn your head and make eye contact with satoru's camera, and smile at the flood of comments on how cute you two look together.

yuuji-itadori: awww its kinda cute

suguru-geto: sooo down bad tbh

toji-fushiguro: you gotta be f*cking kidding me

satoru kisses the side of your face while glaring at the screen, and eventually he presses his lips to your ear and whispers, "wanna end the stream? there's too many people watching and i wanna keep you all to myself."

"hehe, let's do it!"

[avocad1s]

The Gnosis Can Wait

Requested By: No one. Original work.

CW: 5.0 spoilers below this line!!! 5.0 spoilers below this line! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

Summary: After his battle with Mavuika, Capitano was left injured. He retreats wanting to replan his strategy when he runs into you, the Creator, who had just descended to Teyvat.

Note: So how are you all liking Natlan? As of right now I think it’s okay only because I want to return to Fontaine 😞

Capitano wasn’t used to the taste of defeat.

As number one in the Fatui harbingers and the strongest amongst them no doubt, he is used to winning every match he partakes in. Or for his opponents to concede before the battle even begins.

Yet he doesn’t take it to heart, he knows the outcomes of every battle can differ in many different ways and he isn’t arrogant about his strength.

Mavuika was a God after all. Even though his power rivals hers, he knew he would have to best her with a foolproof strategy and it seemed barging in wasn’t the right one. She was a worthy opponent.

Capitano returns to his camp, the pain in his chest still burning from the small wound Mavuika left on him. He can wait, once his wound heals then he will strike her again, only this time he won’t miss. At least he has an ally in his pocket keeping him up to date on all the politics within Natlan.

“My lord,” Capitano’s right hand, Rezanov begins while bowing. “We found footprints nearby. We believe someone might stumble into camp soon…”

Capitano lets out a sigh underneath his mask, “how many people?”

“We believe only one, there’s only one track of footprints.”

Only one person? Nothing really to worry about. Unless this person is returning to tell the Archon his location.

“Find them and bring them here.” He orders and Rezanov nods and quickly takes off.

———

Okay… don’t freak out. Don’t freak out…

You just woke up in Genshin Impact.

You remember waiting impatiently by your PC for the newest update to the game, but you must’ve fallen asleep while waiting. Now you were dreaming about the it? Jeez, even in your own dreams you thought about the game. You really needed to touch grass. (lol jk jk luv you all)

You were dreaming about Natlan… a nation that you haven’t even played yet. You couldn’t have had a dream about your favorite nation? Or meeting all your favorite characters?

But everything felt so real. Even after watching the trailer and the leaks you’ve seen online, there’s no way you could know such detail about the nation. Maybe it was just your mind filling in the gaps…

“Stop right there!”

You turn around and your blood runs immediately cold. It was two fatui skirmishers and one fatui agent. You don’t even know the amount of times you’ve killed these enemies for their drops or just for the fun of it.

So this is how you die… at least this is better than falling into the claws of Childe, who you’d beat up anytime you built a new character.

“Our lord the Captain will deal with you, come with us with no fight.”

Scratch that. This was much, much worse…

“Wait… isn’t that…?” One of them whispered.

They put down their weapons, looks of remorse on their faces.

“Your Grace… please for give our imprudence we had no idea it was you…” Rezanov. “Please come with us, the Captain would be delighted to see you.”

Right… you’ve read fanfics like this before. Believing you’re their Creator… you wonder if your blood was gold. Perhaps you could check later. For now, you were going to follow them, it’s not like Capitano has appeared in the game you can get a first time look at him.

You follow the trio deeper into the forest, a small fireplace in the distance, you could only assume the Captain would be there.

“My lord, we found who was trailing around camp. Their Grace has decided to bless us with their presence on Teyvat once more.”

Capitano turns around and say nothing for what felt like forever. Even with the helmet, you knew he was staring intently at you.

“Your Grace.” He finally says, his voice much softer than you ever expected. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

He approached, towering over you.

“You three. Fetch Their Grace some food—“ he looks down at you once more. “And a change of clothes.”

You feel embarrassment creep up your neck. What’s wrong with your pajamas? Could he tell they weren’t from this word?

He holds out his hand, and you take it being able to feel the warmth underneath the glove. This dream was much realer than you thought…

Capitano leads you to his large tent holding the flaps open so you could enter. “We weren’t expecting your arrival so I apologize for the lack of preparations…”

You shake your head, “everything is fine.” Not like you’d be here forever…

“You can have my tent You Grace, I will camp outside.” He adds.

You furrow your eyebrows, “this tent is big enough for two people, can’t we just share it?”

Capitano doesn’t say nothing for a moment, you fear you’ve might’ve offended him with your offer but it was the complete opposite. Capitano felt as if he was on top of the world, to share a camp with the Creator? To be able to protect you? To see your sleeping face…

He feels his cheeks grow crimson and he is eternally grateful for his helmet. “Of course, if that’s what you wish Your Grace…”

The flaps to the tent open and Rezanov enters the tent. “My lord, we've received word that the Pyro Archon has lost much of her power.”

“Although your injury complicates things, this is most certainly the opportune time to seize the Gnosis...”

Capitano was slightly irritated with his subordinate’s unwarranted entry but he wouldn’t do anything yet, not while you were right in front of him.

“The Gnosis can wait, we have more important matters…” he replies, his focus never leaving you.

© avocad1s 2024

Note: Capitano was the highlight of Natlan for me. Sorry but i’m a Fatui Harbinger glazer 😞 why’d they make them so fine? It’s not fair… Now here’s to hoping my man is playable, saving all my primos for him so he better not disappoint.

Edit: I know Mavuika isn’t a God but I’m thinking Capitano wouldn’t know that since she’s the only one of the Seven that isn’t a one which is where I went with this fic

[skittishpuppy]

M!Werewolf x

F!reader smut

18+

Warning- monsterfucking, obviously, lots of swearing, very very slight dubcon at the beginning, knotting, use of 'it' to refer to the werewolf.

Word count- 1903

This was written by me! Hope you enjoy <3

..................................................................................

You sighed to yourself as you took the steps up to your first floor apartment. It had been a hard day at work and you were already ready to turn in for the night, despite it only being 6:30 p.m. Your boss had been particularly dickish, and you really just needed to relax, maybe have a little bit of a self care evening, then fall asleep. It was your day off tomorrow, luckily, so you could get away with it.

You opened your door and broke the threshold of your home, but immediately stopped short when you heard a strange rustling noise behind you. You looked back nervously, somehow expecting to see some sort of axe murderer. What you saw was even worse.

Twenty feet away from you, and growing ever closer, there was a werewolf. An extremely large one, at nearly twelve feet tall.

You swallowed heavily, face turning a little pale with fright. You'd never encountered a werewolf before, but from what you'd heard, they weren't supposed to be out this early… And it wasn't even a full moon. But despite that, the creature was here, right in front of you, salivating like a rabid dog that was ready to go in for the kill.

You raised your hands in surrender and began backing up slowly, not really sure what else to do. What else was there to do? You didn't have anything to protect yourself; All you had was a brain that was capable of sending prayers to a god you weren't even sure existed.

In your panicked, fight or flight state, you forgot to shut the door, and that was your downfall. The beast sped up upon noticing your retreat. A fun game of chase, it probably presumed.

Your back hit the wall and your heart began pounding so fast and intensely that you were surprised it didn't explode from your chest like in that one episode of supernatural.

Seemingly unaware, or unbothered by, your absolute all-consuming, spine chilling terror, it continued to approach you, maw gaping open, revealing its razor sharp, two inch long canines that could easily tear you to shreds.

“Um,” you said weakly as it closed in on you. “Good dog?” It was a weak strategy, but it couldn't hurt to try, could it?

It just let out a low growl and you whimpered and screwed your eyes shut, unable to look the beast in the eye as it tore you apart and devoured you alive.

After a beat where nothing but it's hot breath on your neck could be felt, you dared to open your eyes. You saw its crimson red hungry gaze staring back at you.

You swallowed heavily. This was it. This was the day you died. You hadn't gotten to do even one of the things on your bucket list yet. You hadn't even experienced much of life! You were young still, you didn't deserve to die, much less in such a gruesome way as this. You were–

Your eyes snapped back open, this time wide as saucers.

Oh…?

Oh.

You'd been right; It did want to devour you, but not in an evil-shredding-destroying-murdering way. In a sexy way.

The werewolf's furry hand had slipped under your shirt and was now roaming around, gently feeling your slightly chubby stomach. It'd taken you years to feel ok with it, and you still weren't certain of your own body, but this creature was somehow making all those worries go away.

Nonetheless, ‘What the fuck?’ was the only thought your blanked out mind could supply as you simply allowed the werewolf to rid you of your button down by ripping it off you.

It did the same with your black lacy bra, the one that always made you feel good in your own skin, and tossed the shredded remains onto the floor. What a waste. But really, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You had better things to be focusing on. Like, how a goddamn werewolf was now licking and nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck while rubbing your perky nipples.

“Mmm…” you hummed softly, tilting your head to try and escape the advances. You weren't sure if you actually wanted to, but somehow it felt more shameful if you didn't.

It didn't seem to matter, either way. The werewolf just continued working its way down your body. When it reached your pencil skirt, you squirmed, but you couldn't wriggle out of its tight grasp. It was far, far stronger than you. Able to kill you with a single bite or swipe of its large paw. And somehow, deep in the darkest recesses of your mind, you really liked that.

It tore off your skirt, throwing it to the side, and ran a clawed finger along the waistband of your panties, while using the other hand to begin feeling you through the silk fabric.

You clenched your thighs together, but it was for naught. It began rubbing your clit sensually, clearly intending to make you feel good, and you couldn't stifle the small gasp that escaped your lips.

You spread your thighs, giving it full access, and it fully took advantage of that, discarding your panties and getting on its knees. It leaned in, nuzzling you with its wet nose, and you shivered. The cold feeling was new to you, but it wasn't bad.

The werewolf then stuck out its tongue and began licking your cunt enthusiastically, focusing on the clit.

“Oh, fuck…” you breathed out, throwing your head back against the wall. It was really good at this, far better than any human man you'd been with. It clearly knew what it was doing.

Its tail was wagging wildly as it treated you to the best cunnilingus you'd ever experienced, and you couldn't help but feel honored that you made this beast feel that happy.

It ate you out like it was what it lived to do, kissing and nipping at your thighs, lapping at your cunt, even using the pads of its fingers to rub you.

You didn't take long to come, entire body convulsing, and you cried out in pleasure, eyelids fluttering. It helped you through it, licking up your cum, and the aftershocks were just as pleasurable. Your thighs were shaking, and you were barely able to hold yourself up against the wall, but it didn't really matter.

Suddenly, you felt your feet get swept underneath you, and the ground grow farther away. You distantly realized, through the haze of your orgasm, that you were being carried by the werewolf across the room, and into your bedroom. It tossed you onto the bed and you sat up, staring directly at the new development.

The werewolf's cock had unsheathed, and it was long, thick, and dripping with precum.

You swallowed heavily, feeling your mouth turn dry. It was big. Really big. You'd never taken anything near that size, even in your personal time. But you'd be damned if you were going to back down from a challenge. So you stared into the wolf's eyes. “Fuck me,” you dared, not entirely sure how it'd react.

The wolf's gaze darkened, penetrating down to your very soul, and it leapt onto the bed, muscles rippling, and shoved you onto your back so harshly you yelped in surprise.

It had definitely responded properly, you thought, as it pinned your arms above your head, gripping your wrists tightly enough to leave bruises.

Without wasting any time, it positioned itself properly, tapping its cock on your cunt a few times. You wrapped your legs around its waist, both of your bodies falling naturally into place.

You briefly wondered why the hell you'd gone along with this in the first place, you knew it was going to hurt, but you simply couldn't resist. The allure of the taboo had plagued you all your life, and this was no different. You had to try everything at least once, and this was no different. You were torn from your thoughts abruptly when the werewolf lined up with your entrance.

Fuck. This was really happening.

“Fuck!” you shouted as it suddenly thrust in all the way, balls deep, sending you forward. It pulled out, then slammed back in, setting a rough, hard pace that had you gasping and whimpering pitifully with each thrust. It was painful, god it was painful, but the pleasure far outweighed the rest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chanted, your brain getting fully rewired. This was the best thing you'd ever experienced, the amazing feeling of its cock inside you, pushing your body and mind to the very limits.

It railed you, hard and fast, unrelenting and intense, holding you in place with ease. You felt tears well up in your eyes, and a sob make its way out of your throat, and holy fuck, you could hardly breathe.

It was growling, deep and low and animalistic as it fucked you with abandon, and it was a noise that sent shivers down your spine and butterflies in your stomach.

You were distantly aware you were just babbling now, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence, or even thought. The only thing you could think about was its cock ramming you, how full you felt, and how fucking amazing this was.

Eventually, its thrusts grew more stuttered and twitchy, its growls more high pitched and whiny, as it grew closer to its climax.

You let out a long, drawn out moan and shifted your hips to help him along, and it did the trick, as seconds later, you felt its cum fill you up to the brim. You gasped, surprised and extremely pleased with the warm, full feeling, and it let out a loud howl, consumed with pleasure, but continued thrusting into your pussy.

Finally, your own pleasure overtook you. You let out a string of incoherent curses that would make a sailor blush as your second orgasm rippled through you, cascading from your cunt to your stomach and your thighs, filling you with so much pure fucking ecstasy that you saw stars, your vision turning black at the edges.

The werewolf gave a few more weak thrusts, finally tiring out, but didn't pull out. Your eyes widened as you felt something grow inside you– its knot.

You tried to twist yourself away from it, not particularly wanting to be stuck with the beast inside you for an hour, but you were immediately stopped by brute force, and you just gave into it.

The werewolf seemed pleased by your submission, and moved forward on the bed. It laid down beside you, despite not fitting on the mattress, and wrapped its legs and arms around you, cuddling you.

You could do nothing but fully embrace it with a soft, content sigh.

This definitely wasn't something you'd ever heard in the stories, but you weren't in the least bit displeased about it. Rather the opposite, in fact. This had been, by far, the best sexual encounter of your life. You just hoped the werewolf would stay for the night. And maybe more… You could totally go a dozen more rounds.

As you closed your eyes, you wondered if it was possible to have his pups. It was, oddly enough, an appearing idea. You then felt his grip tighten around you, and you relaxed, feeling safe and secure in his arms, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[kkami-writes]

that hufflepuff boy

pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum

disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)

The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.

Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter. 

So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary. 

You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him. 

As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display. 

“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing. 

And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.

By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did. 

You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book.  “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back. 

“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.

“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”

“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin. 

“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now. 

“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”

“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name. 

As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream. 

“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red. 

“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.

“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.

Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.

“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”

“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,” 

“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.

“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.

“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,” 

“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?” 

(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about.  “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”

“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”

“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs. 

“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”

“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”

Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow. 

But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.

By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls. 

Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes. 

Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach. 

So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay. 

“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.

“Hi Felix,” 

“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.

“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,” 

“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”

“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?” 

You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.) 

Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff. 

Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday. 

After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work. 

Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming. 

The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much. 

“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,” 

“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”

“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”

“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.

The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could. 

Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand.   It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library. 

“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year. 

His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together. 

His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.

You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips. 

It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge. 

“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 

You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head. 

With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded. 

He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping. 

Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like. 

“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.

You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers. 

He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.

“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk. 

“You’re not getting these back,” 

Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.

He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. 

“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build. 

When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him. 

“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth. 

“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning. 

“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,” 

He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.

“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you. 

“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.

“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.

His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.

“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are. 

When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms. 

Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine. 

He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.

“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Another Merlin au prompt! This time featuring Morgana, because I haven't been giving her enough love recently!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

In a season 4 au, the Cailleach never tells Morgana that Emrys is her destiny and her doom. Instead, she merely tells Morgana that Emrys is her destiny. So, instead of fearing Emrys, Morgana believes that Emrys is the key to achieving her destiny and conquering Camelot. Thus, she starts her hunt to try and find an ally in Emrys.

Through the Druids and the Catha, Morgana learns that Emrys is the Old Religion's god of magic and is destined to come to the mortal plane in the form of a human to bring magic back to the land after a great tragedy. Morgana hadn't heard of Emrys before since Morgause (in her hubris) did not focus on educating Morgana in the gods and goddesses that they were supposed to worship, instead focusing on teaching her powerful, dark magic and battle strategies against their enemies.

So, Morgana spends most of seasons 4 trying to find Emrys and ally herself to him. Morgana eventually learns from a druid that defected to her cause that Emrys has already taken his human form and lives in Camelot, working in secret to bring about magic's return to the land. Morgana was shocked by this, since it was possible that Emrys had been in Camelot even before she knew of her magic, but also pleased, as having Emrys already established inside Camelot would make a takeover much easier!

Morgana, from there, starts attributing her every victory and defeat to Emrys in some way. She succeeds in killing Uther through the enchanted necklace? Emrys must have been in on her plans and delivered the final blow while Arthur trusted him to try to heal his father! Her plan to drive Arthur and Gwen apart through shade Lancelot succeeds? Because Emrys ensured that no one suspected the shade before he did his job, of course! Her magic fails during her takeover of Camelot? Emrys must be angry with her for trying to conquer Camelot without him! She makes it out of Camelot alive even without her magic? Praise Emrys!

Morgana's beliefs are further solidified when Aithusa heals her. She asks Aithusa who she is, how is there another dragon? Aithusa is too young to speak, but she instead shares images and ideas with Morgana. In Aithusa's memories, Morgana couldn't quite see the face of the dragonlord who hatched Aithusa, but she knew how that magical power felt! It must have been Emrys, as the druids also told her that he was the last dragonlord! He must have sent this young dragon, his own kin, to heal Morgana and keep her safe before their destinies came to fruition!

When they're captured by Sarrum, Aithusa called out for her dragonlord, and after a couple hours in that damned well, a golden light filled the entire space, and their magic-binding chains were removed, allowing them to climb out of the pit and escape. There was no doubt in Morgana's mind that Emrys was the one who saved him, but to her disappointment, he was not there when they escaped.

(Merlin, back in Camelot, performed a ritual to send his magic to aid Aithusa, wherever she was. He could sense her cries and her fear, but he couldn't pin down her location, so this was his only way of sending help.)

By season 5, Morgana's patience was growing thin. She knew that Emrys probably had some grand, years-long plan for how they were going to conquer Camelot and let magic reign, but she wanted the throne that was rightfully hers! But to do that, she needed Emrys. So, she sought out the Diamiar to ask how she could find Emrys. Unfortunately, she never found the Diamiar and was forced to retreat.

Fast forward to Kara being captured and Mordred begging for her life and getting locked up with her. In this au, Merlin helps break Mordred and Kara out of the dungeon and helps them leave Camelot safely, leading to Mordred not growing bitter against Merlin, but still holding animosity towards Arthur for not being merciful towards Kara.

Kara takes advantage of Mordred's newfound anger towards Arthur and convinces him to join Morgana's forces. Morgana welcomes Mordred with open arms, but he's hesitant to tell her Emrys's true identity after Merlin saved him and Kara. However, after Morgana tells him that the only way that they can defeat Arthur is with Emrys fighting alongside them, Mordred reluctantly tells Morgana Emrys's true name: Merlin.

Morgana is absolutely shook by this news. How could her ultimate ally, the key to her victory, be one of her worst enemies?! He was Arthur's most loyal lacky! He saved Arthur's life repeatedly, keeping her from the throne! He had poisoned her!

Morgana was in absolute denial over this news, until she started thinking over it. When she had first told Merlin about her magic, he had tried to help her and led her to the druids. Yes, he had poisoned her, but that was the last push she needed to join Morgause. Perhaps that was his plan from the beginning? To ensure that she joined her sister and fulfilled her destiny in becoming a high priestess?

And his position as Arthur's closest confidant and servant gave him the anonymity to not be noticed by the nobility and the perfect place to manipulate Arthur, weakening him and his kingdom from within! Emrys truly was a mastermind with a plan to take down Camelot! And to think, she had fallen for his disguise as a cowardly servant as well! He was effortlessly playing all of Camelot for fools!

And oh, Morgana could see his vision! Emrys- Merlin- would crush Arthur's heart, his very soul, by revealing his power and his glorious destiny of returning magic to the land. All Merlin would have to do was pull the rug out from underneath Arthur, and Arthur would be so heartbroken and weakened by the betrayal that Camelot would be ripe for the taking!

Perhaps Merlin would revel in Arthur's humiliation? Wrap obedience spells around the king's mind and make Arthur his servant? What glorious justice that would be!

The most powerful sorcerer in history, magic incarnate, living in Camelot and having the absolute trust of the king! Everything was poised so perfectly! Morgana had to give Emrys credit for this, he had set everything up, from Morgana's rise to her true power to surrounding Arthur with commoner knights who owed more to Merlin than they did to the king, so that Arthur's end and magic's rise was inevitable. She did wish he would have told her about his plans sooner though. They could have been working together all this time!

Still, this meant that all of the pieces for magic's takeover of Camelot were in place! All she had to do was reach out to Emrys and let him know that she was ready, and they could conquer Camelot!

Mordred tries to warn her that Merlin is trying to fulfill the prophecy is a different, more peaceful way than what she has in mind, but Morgana brushes that aside. Emrys was her destiny, the key to her success!

However, after luring Merlin into the crystal cave and finally offering an alliance with him so they could take over Camelot, Morgana was shocked to be vehemently rejected by Merlin, with Merlin telling her that there was no way that he would ever betray Arthur, Emrys or not.

Morgana was not really expecting that and was forced to revise her plans. She needed Merlin to be on her side if she was going to have any chance at taking the throne from her undeserving brother, but Merlin, despite all of his power and destiny, was reluctant to join her and take his rightful place of power.

It was rather confusing for Morgana. Why would Emrys truly want Arthur on the throne? Was Arthur already his thrall, and he didn't want to lose his puppet king? No, if Emrys had Arthur under his power, magic would already be returned to the land.

Perhaps it was some sort of odd affection that Merlin had towards Arthur? That must be it! Merlin had been forced to tolerate Arthur for so long that some sort of forced feelings of connection towards Arthur had wormed their way into Emrys's heart!

So, Morgana goes on a campaign to win Merlin's loyalty over to her by 1) trying to undermine Arthur's rule and make his look like a fool and 2) make herself look like the better option. She has dozens of spies in Camelot and has sorcerers who can scry for her, so she knows when Arthur treats Merlin like a fool and dismisses his thoughts like an arrogant prat, and she chooses those days to send Merlin gifts, like spell books filled with useful curses, enchanted jewelry to make him more powerful, and the severed head of an assassin who managed to land a cut on Merlin while he was trying to kill Arthur (on Morgana's orders, but that's just semantics).

Morgana also sees how Merlin's living situation with Gaius isn't great, so she sends him things like new luxurious clothes and rich foods, which are things that she supposes that he'll have to get used to after he takes his rightful place as the conqueror of Camelot.

Merlin, however, remains suspicious of these gifts and knows that Morgana is trying to tempt him to her side, so he ignores them for the most part. Eventually, Arthur finds out about Morgana trying to bribe his manservant with extravagant gifts and loses his mind over it. He knows that Merlin would never betray Camelot to the likes of Morgana, but the fact that Morgana has set her sights on Merlin puts him very ill at ease.

And this, of course, devolves into a tense game of tug-of-war between the Pendragon siblings. Both of them are tripping over themselves trying to prove themselves to be more deserving of Merlin's loyalty, while Merlin just wants to go back to sleep.

Let me know if you'd like to see a continuation of this prompt! I think that seeing a high-stakes sibling rivalry between Arthur and Morgana over Merlin would be pretty funny!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

Also, please let me know if there are any other Merlin characters you'd like me to feature! I'm working on some Gwen-focused and Lancelot-focused prompts, but let me know if there are any others you'd like to see!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my rambling! :D

[pastryfication]

hii please could you do another leclerc sister! reader imagine where arthur gets dropped by ferrari or dosent get a seat and he’s upset and reader and charles comfort him? x

the weight of the world

pairing: leclerc sister!reader x leclerc brothers note: thank you for requesting!! as an older sister, this was very easy to write.

the news hit like a harsh punch to the gut. arthur had been dropped by the ferrari driver academy, and without a seat for the next f2 season, it felt like everything he had worked so hard for was slipping through his fingers.

your childhood house was eerily quiet as you entered, the rooms filled with the heavy silence of disappointment. arthur had withdrawn from everyone, retreating to the living room where he sat, slumped against the couch, his head buried in his hands.

you hovered near the doorway, watching him from afar. his shoulders were stiff, his body rigid with the weight of what had happened. arthur had always been resilient—he fought hard for everything, just like all of you had, but today, he looked fragile, like the world had finally caught up to him, and the cracks were starting to show.

you walked in quietly, lowering yourself onto the couch beside him. “arthur?” you called softly, careful not to startle him.

he didn’t respond. his hands stayed tangled in his hair, and his eyes were focused on the floor. his breathing was shallow, and you could tell he was trying to hold everything in, but his walls were crumbling, slowly but surely.

“i’ve failed,” he muttered, his voice rough and barely audible. “i’ve let everyone down.”

your heart clenched at the sound of his voice, raw and laced with pain. you reached out gently, placing a hand on his back, rubbing slow circles. "arthur, you haven’t let anyone down. this is just a setback.”

he shook his head, his jaw tight. “but i have. look at everything charles has done. he’s won in f2 and now he’s winning races in f1. and me? i can’t even secure a seat for next year. i’m nothing compared to him.”

the self-doubt, the frustration—it was all spilling out now, years of pressure building up, finally breaking through. arthur had always been chasing something, always pushing himself to live up to the expectations placed on him, the ones he thought came from others, but really, they came from inside him. he had built his entire career trying to prove that he belonged, not just to himself but to everyone watching. and now, with ferrari dropping him, it felt like confirmation of his worst fears.

“you are not a failure,” you said, your voice firm but gentle. “you’re on your own journey, arthur. it doesn’t matter what charles is doing—this is your path, and one setback doesn’t change how talented you are.”

arthur glanced up at you then, his eyes rimmed red, glossy with unshed tears. the sight reminded you of the little boy who would come crying to you in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, and your heart clenched painfully. “but what if . . . what if i never make it?” his voice broke slightly, and it was like a punch to your chest, hearing him voice the fear that had clearly been gnawing at him for so long. “what if this is as far as i go?”

before you could respond, the door creaked open, and charles stepped into the room. you glanced at him briefly, noticing the concern etched across his face. he had rushed over the second he heard, but now, seeing arthur like this, he hesitated. charles wasn’t used to comforting people like this—he supported you in different ways, always the one who fought through his pain in silence, pushing forward no matter how bad things got.

he stepped forward cautiously, unsure of what to say, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. he looked at you, almost as if asking for guidance. this wasn’t a situation he could fix with strategy or motivation; this required something softer, something more emotional.

charles crouched in front of arthur, placing a hand on his knee. “arthur,” he began quietly, his voice tentative, “you haven’t let anyone down.” there was a small hesitation in his words, as though he was uncertain how to reach his brother in this moment. “i know it feels bad now, but this isn’t the end.”

arthur barely reacted. he didn’t lift his head, didn’t shift his position. it was as if the weight of the news had pinned him in place. charles was trying—he always did—but it was clear he wasn’t sure what to say, or how to truly reach your brother.

you moved closer to arthur, your heart breaking at how still and defeated he seemed. “arthur,” you whispered, your voice soft, coaxing him out of his shell. “come here.”

at first, he hesitated, but then the dam broke. he turned toward you slowly, collapsing into your arms as his body trembled with silent sobs. his grip was tight, desperate, like he was afraid you’d let go if he didn’t hold on hard enough. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, holding him as he cried. your hand rested on the back of his head, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair, whispering soft reassurances.

charles watched, his face full of concern and helplessness. he stayed where he was, not quite knowing what to do next. comfort didn’t come naturally to him in moments like this. he was used to being the one who kept everything together, but seeing arthur like this—seeing him so vulnerable—made him unsure of himself.

you met charles’ eyes over arthur’s shoulder, giving him a small, encouraging nod. arthur wasn’t ready for advice or tough love right now. he just needed to feel like he wasn’t alone, and you understood that.

charles heart warmed as he watched you. the way you instinctively knew how to ease arthur’s pain, how you could make him feel safe with just your presence—it was something he wasn’t sure he could ever do as easily as you. charles cared deeply for his siblings, but watching you now, he realized how much of a rock you were for your younger brother—how much of a rock you were for him too. your patience, your quiet strength—it was something he admired more than he could put into words.

arthur clung to you like a lifeline, his body shaking with the effort of holding everything in for so long. “i’ve let you all down,” he choked out between shaky breaths. “i’ve failed, especially you, charles. you’ve done so much for me, and now . . . now i’ve ruined it.”

charles shifted, his brow furrowed. “arthur, you’ve never let me down. not once,” he said, his voice softening as he found the right words. “you’re not in competition with me. you’ve already accomplished so much, more than you give yourself credit for. i’ve never compared you to me, and neither should you.”

arthur shook his head against your shoulder, still clinging to you. “but you’re always so strong. i don’t know if i’m like that. i don’t know if i can come back from this.”

you held him tighter, rubbing his back soothingly. “you are strong,” you murmured. “you’re stronger than you realize, arthur. just because your path is different from charles’ doesn’t mean it’s over. it’s okay to feel lost, but we’re here. we’ll figure it out together.”

charles nodded, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on arthur’s back. “you don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he said, his voice calmer now, less unsure. “we’ll take it one step at a time. i believe in you, arthur, and so does everyone else.”

arthur sniffled, his grip on you loosening slightly as he pulled back to look at both you and charles, his eyes still filled with doubt, but there was a flicker of hope. “i just . . . i don’t want to disappoint you guys.”

“you haven’t,” you whispered, brushing a tear from his cheek. “and you never will. we’re proud of you no matter what—charles, lorenzo, mum and i are always proud of you. always.”

charles leaned in closer, his hand still on arthur’s back. “you’ve got so much more to give, arthur. this is just a bump in the road. you’re going to come back stronger, and when you do, we’ll be right here with you.”

as charles looked between you and arthur, something stirred inside him. it struck him how lucky arthur was to have you, and how lucky he was too. not everyone had a sister who could hold everything together like you did, especially when things fell apart. there was a strength in you that charles knew he could never replicate, and it made him admire you even more. he made a mental note to tell you later—how grateful he was, how much he admired how you cared for arthur, how you seemed to know exactly what he needed, even when he didn’t.

arthur leaned into you again, this time not out of desperation but for the comfort you were offering, knowing that no matter how hard things seemed right now, he wasn’t alone.

and he would never be alone. not as long as he had you.

[formulaforza]

💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333

—you can take it off

lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)

You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests. 

Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online. 

A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple. 

And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours. 

It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table. 

“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’. 

“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it. 

“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up. 

Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young. 

“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent. 

“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”

Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”

He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes. 

You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year. 

“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”

You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”

Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too. 

You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after. 

“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”

“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to. 

Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”

Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”

“No chance.”

“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.

 “What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.

“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh. 

“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”

Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”

He smiles, weak, lips  pursed. “I could have told you that.”

The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing. 

You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between. 

After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand. 

Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench. 

He swipes his thumb over the  condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”

“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.

Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”

Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?” 

“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth. 

“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”

“Not too old to make half a million.”

The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand. 

He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.

 He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”

Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”

He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”

“Whatever you say, Mate.”

Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”

Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”

“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches. 

He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles. 

“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”

Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”

Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”

“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds. 

“I didn’t say that, but,”

“But!” You interject. 

“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”

“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”

“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.

You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away. 

You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy. 

You swallow. 

“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”

“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”

“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”

“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”

Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”

“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”

[alltoomaples]

Speed of Science🧬💻💌

I'm dating a STEM girlie and you're not (F1 Edition)

a/n: and im baaaaaacccckkkkk (like anyone even missed me lmao) with the long overdue request! life of a postgrad StEm girlie here and the struggle is really realll af. but besides that, I'm writing this down as a headcanon for the drivers requested on this poll i had posted long back here. I've always wondered how there's soo minimal povs/ocs where they are a scientific researcher, analyst, etc. sooo i dedicate this one to all the STEM F1 girlies out theree <33

alsoo quick shoutout to my girlieee @smoooothoperator for inspiring and motivating me to get back at writing!🥹🫶🏼 check out her lastest ongoing work 'What Was I Made For? ' its amazing and thats a FACT!! do check her works! its absolutely amazing❤️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

Scientific Art Illustrator - Charles Leclerc

As a Scientific Art Illustrator, you specialize in creating visually captivating and scientifically accurate illustrations that depict complex biological, astronomical, or technological subjects.

Charles first discovered you through your works at an exhibition where their stunning illustrations of Formula 1 cars caught his eye. Impressed by their attention to detail and artistic talent, they struck up a conversation about their mutual love for precision and creativity.

During a peaceful weekend afternoon, Charles suggests a spontaneous visit to a local art supply store. Excitedly exploring aisles stocked with vibrant paints, fine brushes, and specialized papers, the two of you engage in discussions about artistic techniques and innovative tools. Amidst laughter and shared enthusiasm for creativity, you bond over your mutual appreciation for the intricacies of art and science, making the afternoon a cherished memory of their shared passions.

After being away from home during race season, Charles always finds a framed series of sketches by you for the races you couldn't make it, capturing his most memorable racing moments. Each sketch is intricately detailed, depicting not only the speed and intensity of the races but also the emotions and determination etched on Charles' face. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Charles hangs the sketches in his study, a constant reminder of your support and admiration for his passion.

...

Data Scientist - Lando Norris

A Data Scientist specializes in analyzing large volumes of data using statistical methods and machine learning techniques to extract insights and make data-driven decisions.

You and Lando first connected through a mutual fascination with racing data at a technology symposium focused on sports analytics. Your presentation on advanced predictive modelling in motorsports caught Lando's attention for its innovative approach to enhancing race strategies.

During a cosy evening at home, Lando playfully challenges you to a friendly data analysis competition using real-time telemetry from previous races. Their banter and shared excitement over dissecting racing data create a lighthearted and memorable bonding experience.

You two would watch old races and analyze historical racing data together, playfully debating optimal pit stop strategies and analyzing driver performance trends, their shared passion for racing and data fostering a deep connection and mutual admiration.

...

Oceanographer/Marine Biologist - Oscar Piastri

An Oceanographer or Marine Biologist studies marine life, ecosystems, and ocean processes to understand and protect marine environments and resources.

You and Oscar crossed paths during a research expedition to study coral reefs in a remote location. Your expertise in marine biology and passion for conservation impressed Oscar, sparking their connection.

Amidst the hectic F1 season, Oscar surprises you with a weekend getaway to a coastal retreat, where they explore tide pools and participate in a beach cleanup together, reaffirming their commitment to environmental stewardship.

You gave Oscar a custom-made charm bracelet featuring miniature charms of marine animals they've discussed during their beach walks and conservation talks. Each charm represents a meaningful moment in their relationship, from their first discussion about oceanography to their shared admiration for marine life. Oscar wears the bracelet during race weekends as a reminder of you and all the love and support you give, both on and off the track.

...

Mechanical Engineer - Daniel Riccardo

You are a passionate Mechanical Engineer, specializing in advanced automotive design and performance optimization.

Daniel first encountered you at a technical conference organized by one of the team sponsors where you presented groundbreaking research on aerodynamic innovations that caught his attention.

Often, while you meticulously draft engineering schematics at their home office, he makes sure that you have your "engineering emergency kit" beside your workstation, which is a tray of snacks and their favourite coffee – ensuring they're fueled for their late-night brainstorming sessions. For when he's away for races, he stacks them up with small cute notes.

Before Daniel heads to a crucial race, you surprise him with a meticulously crafted miniature replica of his race car, complete with detailed decals and a personalized message of encouragement engraved on the base. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Daniel proudly displays it in his motorhome, a reminder of the reader's unwavering support both on and off the track.

...

Statistician - George Russell

A Statistician specializes in collecting, analyzing, and interpreting numerical data to help organizations and individuals make informed decisions.

You and Russell first crossed paths during a university seminar on advanced statistical modeling in sports. Your insightful analysis of Formula 1 race data caught George's attention, sparking a lively discussion that led to mutual admiration for each other's analytical skills and shared passion for racing statistics.

During a particularly demanding race weekend, the reader surprises George with a meticulously prepared statistical analysis report highlighting his strengths and areas for improvement based on recent race data. This thoughtful gesture boosts George's confidence and motivation, showing the reader's support in his pursuit of excellence.

During a weekend getaway, you guys stumble upon a local go-kart track. George, always up for a challenge, suggests they have a friendly race. Knowing George's competitive spirit, you secretly calculate his optimal strategy and surprise him by winning with a perfectly executed last-minute overtaking maneuver. George is impressed by the your strategic thinking and playfulness, and they share a lighthearted and joyous moment celebrating their shared love for racing and friendly competition.

...

Astrophysicist - Logan Sargeant

An Astrophysicist studies the physical properties, behavior, and evolution of celestial objects such as stars, planets, galaxies, and the universe as a whole, using principles of physics and astronomy.

Logan and you first crossed paths during an expedition to study a rare astronomical event—a comet passing close to Earth. Both passionate about astrophysics, you found yourselves sharing a telescope at a remote observatory, marveling at the comet's beauty and discussing its celestial significance late into the night. Their shared awe and intellectual connection sparked a mutual admiration that grew into a deep bond over their shared passion for exploring the wonders of the cosmos.

During a quiet evening at home, Logan excitedly shows you a new telescope he acquired for stargazing during race weekends, expressing his eagerness to learn more about the cosmos together and sharing their enthusiasm for both racing and astrophysics in equal measure.

Before a critical race weekend, the reader surprises Logan with a personalized star chart that maps out the night sky above the upcoming race venue during the race weekend. Each star on the chart is marked with a heartfelt message of encouragement, reminding Logan of their unwavering support and belief in his abilities on and off the track. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Logan treasures the star chart as a symbol of the reader's love and encouragement throughout his racing career.

...

Climate Scientist - Lance Stroll

A Climate Scientist studies climate patterns, environmental changes, and their impacts on Earth's ecosystems, using data analysis and modeling to understand and address global climate challenges.

Lance crossed paths with you at an eco-friendly racing event where Lance was advocating for sustainable practices in motorsport. Being a respected climate scientist, you caught Lance's attention with your insightful presentation on the environmental impact of racing and innovative solutions for reducing carbon footprints in the sport. Their shared passion for sustainability sparked an immediate connection and admiration for each other's dedication to making a positive impact on the environment.

One weekend, Lance surprises you with a homemade dinner featuring sustainably sourced ingredients, proudly showcasing his culinary skills while discussing ways to reduce your carbon footprint. His earnest commitment to sustainability and your shared vision for a healthier planet melts your heart, making this a cherished moment you both treasure.

You, being deeply involved in climate science, often spends late nights analyzing data or writing research papers. One evening, Lance bring him a cozy blanket and a mug of your favorite hot beverage, quietly sitting beside him as he works. You look up from your laptop, touched by his thoughtfulness, and pulls him into a warm embrace, grateful for his unwavering support and understanding of your demanding but vital work.

...

taglist: @lndonrris @thatgirlmj @lwstuff @dannyramirezwife-f1dump @moonypixel tysm for your suggestions! apologies on taking this long to write😅🫶🏼

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed reading this! this was my first time writing a headcanon and for f1 drivers beside charles and lando so hope i did justice to all.

i'm being wanting to read some good domestic bliss, sweet, adorable and lovey dovey blurbs, fics of lando (i talked abt it here) soo maybe i'll work on some drafts at some point cause i'm currently in the middle of project work of my masters degree soo don't know when i'll be posting soo until next time, see yaaa and going back to read mode 👋💓✨️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

[amongemeraldclouds]

tongue tied

Lorenzo Berkshire could sweet talk his way into any situation he desired. So why couldn't he find the right words when it came to you? (fluff)

Lorenzo Berkshire x f!Reader

My official entry for @thatdammchickennugget and @finalgirllx ‘s Jinxed July challenge using the water balloon prompt for week one.

✿ Masterlist | 758 words

“Where are you off daydreaming to?” Mattheo approached Enzo, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as his other hand shook the water balloon.

He followed Enzo’s gaze to you as you peacefully read under a tree. “Oh, not what but who. I’ve got to give it to you, summer just started and you’ve already got a new girl in mind.”

“Shut it,” Enzo replied curtly, “it’s not like that.” It was always easy for Enzo to speak to anyone, but when it came to you, he always found himself dumbfounded.

He had meant to ask you out earlier in the year when he sat beside you in Charms class. He found you more magical than any spell he learned. You had been kind and patient, like the time he accidentally turned his hair pink with the coloravia charm and you helped him turn it back. You also had fun in class like when you used the locomotor charm to levitate your quills and make them race around class.

Each time he tried to ask you out, his tongue and stomach would be in knots. If only there was a charm for that. It wasn’t like him at all. He was supposed to be the one with the charming smile who said all the right words. And yet.

He never cared about losing. He could always change his strategy, be with different people, and get what he wanted in the end. But when it came to you, the stakes seemed higher. He couldn't afford to lose and it scared him just as much as it excited him. 

“Here’s a novel idea for you, why don’t you just approach her?”

Enzo elbowed Mattheo's side. “I’m working up to it,” he huffed. Perhaps if he played the words in his head several times, he could say them smoothly. 

“What? Did the heat fry your brain? You’ve never had to ‘work up’ to anyone,” he tilted his head to the side, studying Enzo’s face as a grin crept onto his friend’s face.

“No.” Enzo stated, reading into Mattheo’s grin. It never meant anything good. 

“I was just about to offer my help,” Mattheo said innocently despite the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“I didn’t say I needed—”

“Too late!” Mattheo declared as he swiftly swung his arm and hurled the water balloon at you. Splat! You yelped as something hit you below your neck and you felt water seep into your dress, the ink on your book melting into the pages until sentences were reduced to smudged lines. 

He winked at Enzo and mouthed, ‘you’re welcome’ before running away.

Enzo stood horrified as he watched Mattheo’s retreating figure. “That wanker!” He muttered under his breath, quelling the urge to run after him as he returned to your friends. He’d deal with him later, he had other priorities.

Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he rushed over to you. “Sorry about Mattheo.”

You looked over at him, shock and fury swimming in your nerves. Enzo forgot how to breathe. 

“H-hi,” he said weakly, clearing his throat. “It’s charms class from Enzo.” What? He felt his ears burn up with shame as he heard the words, wishing he were a leaf so the wind could carry him away.

You blinked, trying to process his words then broke out into a grin. You pointed at yourself, “it’s also charms class from y/n.”

He chuckled then, unknotting the tightness in his chest. “Can I help you with?” He motioned over to you, trying hard not to notice the way your wet dress hugged your figure. Just like that, the tightness in his chest returned. And it was also tight elsewhere.

“Yes, I want revenge,” you smirked. Salazar, he didn’t think it was possible to fall harder. He felt his heart hammering insistently, as if trying to escape his chest to leap over to you.

“Your book,” he said, trying to distract himself. “Maybe you would want to go a new one tomorrow and get a bookstore with me?” Who were words? How were sentences? What was he? It was all a mystery.

You laughed good-naturedly, he was adorable. “Whatever that was, yes.” You had liked him for a while and enjoyed spending time with him in class, but you always thought he was just being nice like he was with everyone.

Yet here he was, stumbling over his sentences. You had never seen him flustered like this before and wanted to put him out of his misery. “Now where can we get those water balloons?”

A/N: I had a longer plot in mind, but last week was personally tough for me so this will do for now. The plot idea I'm referring to will be featured in a future fic instead so stay tuned.

✿ Masterlist

[itsmrshamilton]

If you can take a request for a Lewis Hamilton falling in love at first site for a fan he just met at a GP and eventually saw her again during the summer break she was taking a Europe solo trip & they kik it off #fluff

First Sight | LH44

a/n: Never been on holiday so my imagination worked overtime to get this right.

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Lewis Hamilton had not slept a wink. It was 4:59 a.m., and his alarm was about to go off, and he had not slept all night. This wasn't like him. Yes, he had nights when he felt too anxious to sleep well, but never had he laid in bed and still been awake more than 6 hours later. His eyes were burning, and his limbs felt very heavy each time he turned over to get into a new position. The bed was too hot but his room was too cold. The discomfort was slowly driving him insane.

The phone alarm rang loudly but failed to do its job of waking its owner up because he was already wide awake. Sighing in great annoyance, Lewis grabbed the device off the nightstand and silenced the blaring noise. Upon unlocking his screen he saw messages from his assistant updating him on his schedule for the day. He swiped the blocks then hesitated as he stared at his wallpaper - a recent picture of Roscoe lying on Lewis' chest as they rested on his bed. Roscoe's sweet face rolls were squashed upwards by the force of his big grin exposing his silly tongue. Lewis smiled softly as he looked at his best friend and made a mental note to video call home later and check in on Roscoe.

Peeking at the time, he sat up and began the process of getting ready for the day. He hadn't been looking forward to this race for a long time. His last qualifying race for the season in his second year with Ferarri. Things weren't going as well as he had hoped. Fred, his engineers and the car were all great but Lewis still hadn't won his 8th world champion title despite pushing weekly and winning more than a handful of the races. Despite his performance improvement from Mercedes, Lewis still had Max Verstappen breathing down his neck, chasing him down at every corner. The races were exhilirating for Lewis because this was what he loved, but the stress was creeping up on him. The Ferarri car was great, the strategies were another story.

When he was done preparing and packing, Lewis left for the car outside. Slipping on his sunglasses to try hide his dark eyebags, he prayed to his God that the day would go in his favour.

The screams and noise could surely be heard from the next town over. Yet they somehow increased in volume when Lewis stepped out of his vehicle at the track parking lot. He was exhausted and slightly grumpy but he knew that many fans had travelled from far to meet the drivers so he trudged over to the metal barriers to sign and pose for photos. Papers, magazines, helmets, caps and phones were shoved at his face by arms waving frantically. He smiled, complimented and signed. Colourful beaded bracelets were slipped onto his wrists, artists handed over their creations and photographers snapped away at his every movement. Overwhelming was an understatement but Lewis was incredibly grateful to have a fan base as supportive as his. The move from Ferarri was not easy but it had enjoyable moments created by those who wore the number 44 with pride every weekend. For these people, he would smile til his cheeks hurt and his teeth fell out.

"Thank you all for being here. I appreciate you all!" He shouted as he waved and retreated to the paddock entrance. Cameramen tripped over themselves as they made to move with him. Lewis Hamilton Fashion Week was still going on. Their flashes illuminated his soft sleeveless yellow cardigan, his sheer yellow tracksuit pants and his white sneakers. The irony only he could laugh at was the meaning of the colours against his current feelings.

Having had enough of the cameras, he turned right into a passage and began weaving his way between buildings to get to his destination. The photographers took the hint and disappeared but Lewis kept using the passages and gaps. Getting closer to the Ferarri building, he took a sharp left round a corner and walked right into someone who was looking down at their phone, completely unaware of their surroundings.

"Oof, excuse me. Apologies!" She exclaimed as both their phones went tumbling onto the paved ground. Lewis winced at the sound of his phone screen hitting the floor. He bent down to pick it up at the same time as she bent to get hers.

Lewis noticed that they had the same covers but as he straightened up to mention this, their heads knocked together. This time she winced at the sound it made.

"Oh, jeez. Ouch. Are you okay?" Lewis asked her when she yelped. He rubbed the side of his head tenderly. He took the time to look at her.

"Ow! Im sorry! Omg, this can't get worse. I'm okay. Are you-" She stopped when she looked at his face. She had the most beautiful eyes Lewis had ever seen on anyone. Her lashes framed them perfectly, making him want to stand there all day and study them intently til he could draw them from memory. Not that he needed all day, just these 10 seconds were enough to ensure that he would never forget her face.

Her braids were falling out of the high ponytail she had them in, and her necklace sat askew at the base of her long neck on her exposed bronze collarbones. He felt a little light headed at the sight of them. Her small mouth was downturned in a pout which made him slighlty upset that he was the cause of it. He took the time to eye the rest of her. She was all limbs. Tall, bronzed goddess in a yellow and red Ferarri top, jean shorts and sneakers. He couldn't remember where he was or what he was supposed to do today.

"Oh wow, you're Lewis Hamilton." She muttered to herself.

He snapped out of it and managed to send her small smile. He was still trying to remember how to use his mouth to produce coherent words. At his damn age he was standing there like a fool.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't know where to go and felt a little embarrassed, so I stepped here to gather myself and contact Sheila, but my phone's acting up - my phone!" At that, she dropped down to pick up her phone but hesitated when she realised that both devices looked the same. Picking up both, she turned them over and grimaced at the sight of the cracked screens. She turned them on to differentiate by wallpapers. The one in her left hand had a picture of a cute dog.

"Uh, that's Roscoe. My dog." Lewis stated as he finally figured out how to work his tongue. He reached out to receive it from her.

"He's very cute." She smiled at him. He stared back. She raised her dark brows at him in slight amusement. "I'm sorry about your screen."

"Oh, uh, don't worry about that. Its always cracked. I'm sorry about yours."

"It's okay, mine is always cracked too." She laughed softly and looked down at it. Lewis noticed that the wallpaper was of her and another woman around the same age taking a selfie.

"Uh, you, uh, you mentioned being lost?" He cleared his throat. He didn't know why he was still standing here talking when he had somewhere to be for something very important. But to be honest, nothing felt more important than being here now, with her, whoever she was. It felt right.

"Yeah," she frowned. "I came here today with my friend Sheila but we got separated in a crowd and I stepped into this passage to call her but my phone is freezing up. I dont know where to go." She sighed in frustration.

Lewis hated seeing her upset. He questioned why he felt like he could move the moon and stars just to make her smile again again. His stomach was tingling in an uncomfortable way. He had spoken to many women in his lifetime so why was he finding it hard to function normally around her?

"You can use my phone." He offered it to her. "Or I can take you to the garage, and we could send out a broadcast for her to find you there? Might be easier that way." He smiled sheepishly and hoped she would take the invitation. He really wanted to spend just a bit more time with her.

Her gorgeous eyes lit up and put him in a trance once more. "The Ferarri garage?! With you! Oh my gosh, I would love that." She handed back his phone and his fingers brushed hers. His knees nearly buckled. He leaned on the wall next to them to seem cool and poised but really he was trying to regain stability after a bolt of electricity shot through him. He noticed that she jumped back slightly as well after contact.

"Cool, so we'll head there then? I'm sorry, I never got your name..." He said softly.

"Y/n L/n. Pleasure to meet you." She stuck her right hand out to shake. If he had looked away from her eyes for a second, he would have noticed that it was trembling softly. His big calloused hand grasped her small one and he shook it but held on afterwards, rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine." He murmured as his eyelids lowered sexily. His eyes darkened as another jolt of energy ran through him. The air around them in that narrow passage way crackled with electricity and the noise of the paddock vanished. In that moment it was just the two of them. Her eyes held his gaze but her smirking full lips put up a great fight to draw his attention away. He was mesmerised, enchanchted, gobsmacked. Utterly and completely in love with this Y/n L/n.

"Y/n? Y/n! Is that you? Hun, I've been looking all over! Where have been hidi- oh my lord." Another woman entered the thin area they were in and interrupted the moment. Lewis painfully dragged his eyes off of Y/n to look at her and recognised her as the lady in the wallpaper. Who he now assumed was Sheila, her friend.

"Y/n. Jesus, what are you doing...omg. Is this Lewis Hamilton??! What are you doing with Lewis Hamilton!?" She whisper-shouted at Y/n who had now released herself from Lewis' grasp and turned around. Sheila's eyes were huge with shock.

Y/n took her hands and shushed her quickly. "Sheila, this is Lewis. Lewis, this is Sheila." She pointed from the one to the other. "Lewis was going to help me find you but now that you're here, we can go. Can't waste these paddock passes anymore than I accidentally have." She laughed from embarrassment.

Lewis wanted to reassure her and promise to buy all the paddock passes to every race she wanted to attend. Instead he smiled at her and tried to think of something cool to say. "Hello Sheila." He greeted and received a squeak in reply. He opened his mouth once more but was interrupted.

"Thank you for the offer. I really do appreciate it. I'll see you up on the podium, yeah? Bye!" Y/n gathered her shocked Sheila and they walked quickly out of the narrow space and into a crowd. She looked back once to wave at him before they disappeared. Lewis stood there dazed.

There was a slight ache in his chest now that she was gone. And he rubbed his forehead when he realised that he didnt get any of her contact details. He would have to find her somehow, she had to be on at least one social media platform. He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang loudly. Answering it, he was greeted by his assistant's voice questioning where he was. Lewis answered that he'd be there in a minute then began to make his way. He kept his head high so he could look for Y/n's hair. Unfortunately he didnt see her for the rest of the weekend despite asking around as well.

His grievances with Ferarri from that morning were forgotten. He ended up on the podium that Sunday, 1st place and did his best to squint into the crowd in hopes of recognising her face. Nothing.

It was with a very heavy heart that he accepted that he would never see her again.

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The humidity in the air was going to kill you. It felt like it was forcing its way into your windpipe and filling it to the brim so you couldn't breathe in any useful oxygen. You were being extremely dramatic but you couldn't help it. It was difficult to be in a good and optimistic mood when your hair had shrunk to tiny curls on your head. All that effort to blowdry an afro, gone.

"Sheila, I don't know where to go. It's so hot every where!" You whined into your phone.

Your best friend clicked her tongue at you in annoyance. You had been complaining since the first flight got delayed and had been 6 hours since.

"Y/n if you whine about one more thing, I promise you I will block your number. You are on vacation! Enjoy it!"

You sighed in mock annoyance. "I'm alone, though. Travelling isn't that fun without you."

"Uh uh. We are not doing this. You've been planning this solo trip for weeks, okay. You said it yourself that you need to experience solo living to better yourself. It's easier to grow without the influence of others. Remember, I tried to tag along, but you insisted!" Her reminder was gentle, but you felt like reaching into the phone and pinching her.

"I hate that you're right. I'm a big girl, I can do this." You said mainly to yourself.

"Atta girl! Now go find some hunky european natives and enjoy 3 weeks of bliss! I love you!" She squealed. You laughed at her nonsense and repeated the phrase back before ending the call.

She was right. You had gotten a job straight out of university and worked your ass off daily. The excitement of doing what you loved for a living was overwhelming, and it carried you through the first 6 years of work. But the excitement ran out, and you found yourself struggling to get out of bed due to burnout. Considering a change of career and lifestyle, you planned a solo trip to cleanse yourself of the stress. And now, here you were. Ready for 4 day stays in 5 gorgeous countries.

You arrived at your first destination about 2 hours ago, checked into your first hotel and unpacked already. The afternoon sun was blistering, which was surprising to you because, well, it was europe, but you guessed that the temperatures might be due to a heatwave. Of course, it was your luck to plan a 3 week stay during a heatwave.

Your stomach gurgled loudly. "That's a sign to get out of here and go eat." You mumbled to yourself.

After packing a beach bag and attempting to resuscitate your afro, you made your way downstairs to get directions to any nearby restaurants. The receptionists were very helpful, so you found yourself seated at a table under a large umbrella with a gorgeous view of the blue waves. Your beef with the stifling humidity was forgotten as you took it all in while having big bites of your meal. Life was good, and you didn't believe it could get any better than this. You ordered a drink to go and then made your way to the beach, which was slowly starting to empty out as the day went on.

Glass of sweet juice in one hand and your shoes in the other, you took your time walking the length of the beach to find a spot. The sea smelt divine, the sand between your toes was soothing, and the cool breeze that was picking up dried the moisture off your dark skin as well as your hair. Once you found your spot in a clear area, you began to unpack your colourful bag. Bending over to unroll your beach towel, you heard shouting before someone bumped into you, and you went tumbling face first into the sand.

"Oi! What is-" You were wiping sand off your face.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry about. I didn't see yo..." The familiar voice trailed off. "You! It's you!"

You cleared your your vision and opened your eyes to a shirtless Lewis Hamilton crouching before you. His hair was tied up, allowing you to stare straight into his honey brown eyes. His beautiful face was one of surprise, and his big smile was so contagious that you found yourself beginning to smile despite your previous frustration.

"I can't believe it! I searched everywhere for you after the grand prix. It's Y/n, right?" He offered you his tattooed hand as he stood up. You hesitated for a moment, trying to remember how your limbs worked before taking it and letting him pull you. It's like you weighed nothing to him.

"Yeah, it's Y/n." You confirmed breathlessly. His tattoos up close were delicious.

"That's great because I thought I was typing the wrong name into every social media app I know about." He laughed in embarrassment, and you couldn't help but keep glancing at his pearly whites, which were decorated with gold jewelry.

"Oh, I don't have social media anymore. It became too much at one point, so I deleted it. I rely on my friend to update me." You tried not to talk too much. His brows met for a second.

"Sheila, right? Yeah, I found hers, but you weren't even featured on her feed. Im sorry, by the way, for bumping into you -"

"Again." You inputed. Making him grin and chuckle softly.

"Yeah, again. We really should stop meeting like this."

"I don't mind it." You hadn't really thought of him much since meeting at the grand prix because you thought you'd never see him again. Sheila had nearly picked you up and thrown you into a trash can when she found out you didn't exchange details with him. If you closed your eyes, you could still perfectly see her flabbergasted expression.

The air crackled between the two of you, and the humidity that you thought you had gotten away from was suddenly back again. Sweat dripped slowly down your neck and into your cropped top. You could feel dampness on your palms. One of which was still firmly in his grasp.

There was a shout in the air.

He turned around briefly to investigate, and that's when you took notice of the american football in his other hand as well as a group of people waiting on the beach.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise I was keeping you away from the game. I'll move my stuff, and you can get back to it." You didn't really mean that, but you thought that if you moved to a better spot, you could watch him play without being caught ogling him.

"No, don't do that. Come join us." His thumb began that thing of rubbing circles against the back of your hand. You felt your knees buckle a bit.

"I don't understand the rules of the game. But I can sit and watch?" You offered. His brows met in the middle once more before he shook his head and turned around.

"Yo, Miles!" He threw Miles the ball. "Carry on with the game, I'm out." Miles smirked as he caught the ball and nodded.

"We have a fire going nearby. It's going to get cold soon." He suggested. You tried your best to fight your smile and play hard to get. Which was unserious of you because Lewis was the man of your dreams currently.

"Is that how you ask a girl out, Lewis?" You raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand.

"Uh, no, I- um. I was trying to be casual with it? I wasn't sure if you wanted to have dinner with me. Ahem, I- I'm usually so much better at this." He scratched his neck, and you giggled at his flustered state. The Lewis Hamilton was stumbling over his words while trying to ask you out. He took a deep breath.

"Y/n, would you like to go to dinner with me later?" He looked nervous.

"I'd love that. Let me get my stuff, and we can leave." You smiled.

He crouched and picked up your bag as you rolled your towel and grabbed your shoes. He gently took the towel and shoes out of your hands and led the way to the fire his group had set up. You felt giddy with excitement and fought the urge to skip behind him.

Sitting side-by-side at the fire, you felt his eyes on you. The sun had set, the stars were bright, and the air was becoming colder around you. His friends had settled around the fire as well. There was soft chatter and laughter in the air. Lewis had arranged a blanket for the two of you so you sat wrapped up in it. You had chatted for a while about work, family, and friends, then fell into a comfortable silence. He was easy to talk to, and you found yourself laughing louder than you should have. You laughed even harder when he laughed at your laugh because his laugh was so contagious. Never in a thousand years did you think you'd be at a beach, cozied up with one of the greatest motorsport athletes of your time. You weren't a big F1 fan, but you sometimes watched races and read articles about it, so you knew enough to pick a team to support and drivers to cheer on. Lewis was one of those drivers, so the urge to fangirl violently when you first met was there, but now, after a mere hour or two, it felt like you'd known him all your life. There was a strange buzz in the air just like the one in that narrow passageway. You felt drawn to him. And safe.

"Earlier, you mentioned that you were looking for me?" You asked softly, turning to meet his gaze.

"You're really beautiful. I couldn't get you out of my mind that weekend. I had been struggling with the sport for a while, but after meeting you, things suddenly started to go right. I won every race after that, I'm on track for another championship. It's like my life turned completely around. Like you were the catalyst. Like you're meant to be in my life, like I was meant to meet you." He laughed humourlessly. "I may sound crazy but I feel alive around you. There's something here between us."

You were cuddled up so close that you could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "I feel it too." You whispered.

"I'd really like to figure out what it is. Find out what life with you could be like." He slotted his hand into yours. You couldn't hold back your grin anymore.

"I'd like that too." You leaned in and pressed your lips against his. He reciprocated immediately and pulled you closer. You felt fireworks go off inside your head. Your whole body was tingling.

He pulled back slowly but pecked your lips again. "Are you ready for dinner?" You grinned in response.

Sheila was going to be so proud that you had bagged THE ultimate european hunk.

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Whew! This one took a while. Can you tell I've never been to the beach, lol. Take note that Y/n did not swim in this fic! Cause I hate the thought of swimming in an ocean, lol. I struggled to write the last part👎but its done now so be nice. Dont forget to suggest a song!!

Thanks for reading! Please interact before you leave. Don't alter, translate, or repost onto another platform.

[lordofdestructionm]

Fun Vikdecai scenario for you

and by "fun" I mean pure angst

After the events of the Pilot its not hard to imagine Ivy giving Viktor more details about the trio''s "successful" rum run and their encounter with Marigold. Whether to brag or because Viktor wants to know exactly how much danger she was in.

She might mention the moment when she looked over her shoulder and it looked like Mordecai had his gun aimed right at her, and maybe she was seeing things, but she could swear it looked like he had the shot but lowered the gun

Viktor pauses for a moment but casually dismisses the idea. Mordecai is a traitor and backstabber etc. Shot his partner of over six years in the knee and went to work for their biggest rivals just after Atlas died and the grass started looking greener on the Marigold side.

Plus Ivy still has that wide eyed optimism about her, so of course she is going to read kinder intentions into what could have been a simple matter of the car being too far away or the gun jamming etc.

He doesn't think too much about it after that. Eventually, after recovering just about enough from his injury from the pig farmer attack, Viktor insists to Mitzi that he go with the two crazy noodle armed cousins instead of Ivy.

Mitzi is reluctant but knows when Viktor isn't going to budge, and so she agrees on condition that he not try and throttle Rocky or Ivy's boyfriend while on the job.

The terms are accepted.

Begrudgingly.

But the inevitable happens, and of course, they have a run-in with Marigold.

This is a nightmare for Mordecai.

This is exactly what wounding Viktor's knee was supposed to prevent. He can't let the Savoys go after Viktor, but even if he manages to get them to focus on the two crazy amateurs, Mordecai won't be able to get away with just wounding him and then leaving him be like the kneecapping incident, because the Savoys will want to finish the job, and what reason could he give them for refusing?

Killing Viktor is clearly not an option. He couldn't do it to Ivy and there is no way he can do it now. Betraying his trust, the years of always having each others backs, and the unlikely bond they shared when he left Lackadaisy, had been hard enough. However much he told himself it was "for his own good".

Now either Viktor or his invesitgation into Atlas's death are doomed. Likely both.

He has to try and force Viktor to retreat. He fires warning shots close enough for Viktor to feel the bullets fly past him but just miss his large frame.

Viktor knows how deadly Mordecai is at range and considering what limited weapons Viktor is working with surely the stubborn and still visibly injured and slower moving Ox for once will do the sensible thing!?

But there's a problem with that strategy. Viktor knows Mordecai. More specifically, he knows how well he shoots. He has seen him hit much less tall and broad targets in much more difficult circumstances without breaking a sweat, but here he is missing multiple shots? That's when what Ivy said months before comes back to him.

He knows Mordecai is missing those shots on purpose.

What the hell happens now?

Mordecai can't retreat but has no idea what to do either with Viktor clearly not backing off, while Viktor is not only too stubborn to do so but now knows Mordecai is trying not to shoot him. Does he take the opportunity to confront him? Get out from behind any cover and just start walking with as strong and determined a pace as his bad knees will allow? Does he want to pull Mordecai's head off his body, get payback for his knee, demand an explanation why someone he considered a friend betrayed him?

All the while, Mordecai is getting more and more panicked with every heavy step.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 4

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 4.9k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, public sex, blowjobs, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, mentions of morbid games lmao

You haven’t had a chance to talk to Beomgyu about what happened at the party, mostly because you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to ask him about Haeun because you don’t want to hear that they’re together now. And you don’t want to talk to him about Yeonjun and admit to him that you are not actually together when he clearly has someone else. 

As for Yeonjun, you start becoming closer and closer to him–you’re not actually dating but Beomgyu doesn’t need to know that, and the fact that he thinks you are and it’s pissing him off beyond belief is just the cherry on top. 

But due to all this messiness, things become awkward between you and Beomgyu. There is this unspoken tension that neither of you will acknowledge. Even just him coming home and stepping into the living room where you’re at feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. 

Live with your best friend, they said. It will be fun, they said.

You focus intensely on your phone, determined to ignore Beomgyu until he retreats into his room like the virginal creature he is. But to your dismay, he heads straight to you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Beomgyu asks, rushing to your side and you look at his concerned face with confusion. “What is it, did Yeonjun hurt you?” 

“Huh?” You hum, completely lost. 

“Your face. You look like someone ran over it.” 

You glare at him, showing him your phone pointedly. “I’m just stuck at this game.” 

He rolls his eyes, shoulders relaxing. “Damn, I thought it was serious.”

No shit. It looked like he was ready to scratch Yeonjun’s face off at the mere idea that he hurt you. Which is kinda sweet, you guess. 

“It is serious. This game is kicking my ass.” You complain, brushing past it once again, choosing to focus on the escape room game you’re playing. “I feel like such an idiot. Why can’t I figure this stupid puzzle out?” 

“Let me see.” He sits beside you, plucking the phone out of your hands. 

“Hey!” You protest loudly but he shushes you. “Let the genius do his thing.” 

You bark out a laugh at that. “Now that’s hilarious.” You mock him, but let him try anyway. If only because he looks the prettiest when he’s concentrating on something. 

What? It’s not like you’re going to get over your undying love for him in a day. 

Beomgyu flounders around just as you had expected, clicking all over the screen to try to unlock some hidden clue to no avail. Soon enough, his frustration reaches your level/ 

“What the fuck do you want me to give you, you stupid man?” Beomgyu yells in frustration, repeatedly tapping on the man who won’t give him the phone number he needs. 

“Is the genius struggling?” You mock and though he doesn’t mean it, he gives you the most heart-breakingly adorable pout you’ve ever seen. It takes the combined strength of every single cell in your body to not swoon on the spot. 

“Shut up. It’s a stupid game.” He mumbles and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Or maybe dialing random numbers on the phone isn’t the best strategy when there are like an infinite number combinations possible?”

“Like I said, stupid game.” He asserts, “It’s impossible to solve.” 

“No, you’re just an idiot. Give me back my phone.” You try to take it from him but he refuses to hand it over, insisting, “I’m going to solve it.”

“Beomgyu, come on!”

“I’ll figure it out!”

“No, you won’t, dumbass!”

“Okay, now you’re really not getting it back.” He says and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighs and tugs on your arm, pulling you onto his lap, “Come here, let’s work it out together.” 

How can you when his breath hitting the back of your neck lights your nerves on fire and the warmth of his body pressed up against yours fries up your brain? 

Still you valiantly push through, coming up with ideas together to solve the puzzle, equally stupid ideas that don’t work, but you don't even care about the game anymore, just enjoying being in his arms, leaning back against his shoulders, surrounded by his warmth and his scent. 

“Okay, that’s it. I’m cheating.” He announces after a long, frustrating stretch of inadequate gameplay, and you grunt. “Yes, please.”

You watch as he looks up the answer to the puzzle you’re stuck on online, practically melting in his embrace. 

“That’s the answer? What the fuck? It doesn’t even make sense.” He grumbles once he finds the answer, the vibrations of his deep voice like a cat purring against you. 

“I know. This is so annoying.” You mutter, no heat behind your words, as he enters the code given from the walkthrough. “Or maybe we’re both idiots.” 

“Nah, nah, it’s the game that’s stupid. We’re so smart.” He denies dramatically and you giggle.  “The smartest.” 

Once he dials the number given to him by the man, a distorted voice answers, giving you a cryptic message before hanging up. 

"Look into the eyes of the bird. What does that mean?" Beomgyu wonders, and a sudden realization hits you. "Oh, oh, there was an owl statue back there!"

"You're right. Good thinking, babe.” He compliments mindlessly, oblivious to the fact that he so casually sent your heart into overdrive. Yes, he has called you that before, but never in a non-sexual context. This whole thing feels so domestic, so relationship-y, and it’s seriously messing with your tattered heart. 

Beomgyu goes back to the owl and taps on its eyes. They turn white and the statue shakes, causing your anticipation to rise… but then nothing happens. 

"Wait, what?" Beomgyu wonders dumbly, and you frown. "Let's look around again. Maybe that did something."

"Okay." His head moves ever so slightly to the side and he takes a deep breath through his nose, frustrated, but if you didn’t know any better, and if your wishful thinking had its way, you would think he was taking your scent in. 

"Oh, there it is. It opened this thing." He says excitedly, jolting you out of your fantasies. "That’s the code!"

"Come on then, open the suitcase!" You gush, joining the excitement. You just love to see him so giddy.  

"Right." 

You watch his eyebrows furrow as he looks around for the suitcase, and you do your best not to bend forward and kiss his pretty nose. 

Damn it. Get yourself together. 

"It's a camera. Let's try to take pics with it." You tell him once he opens the suitcase. 

"I have a bad feeling about this." Beomgyu says, trying to take a picture of the mother character but it doesn’t work.

"Try the child." You grab onto his arms, feeling nervous yourself. 

You click on the child but instead of taking a picture of her, she takes a picture of you. Then the scene turns dark and she starts screaming.  

"What? What is happening? Pull back." You tell him urgently. 

He moves around frantically, stopping at the scene with the mother and now there is a monster behind her. The monster speaks in the same distorted voice, saying it’s taking the mother and leaving the child to you. 

“What the fuck?” Beomgyu asks, creepy music playing in the background. “Bring her back!”

“Oh, don’t feel bad for the mother. She fed her brother urine and dug up the corpses of her family members for a sacrifice.” 

“She did what?” He gives you a look of disgust.

“But even that’s not surprising. I mean she’s the product of the semen her father ejaculated into a jar and combined with the egg he extracted from her dead mother who he killed because he was obsessed with her.” 

“Why do you play these games?” Beomgyu groans, horrified. 

You shrug. “I am fascinated by the morbid. And if I recall correctly, I didn’t ask you to play.”

“I know. I just missed hanging out with you. Even if it’s playing creepy games or just you ranting about your day.” He says sheepishly, turning his head to face you, and you suddenly realize fully how close you actually are. You gulp. “Yeah. I missed hanging out with you too. I guess we’ve both been… busy.” 

“Yeah with the gigs and the parties and all, I guess I’m not around much.” He trails off, running his fingers up and down your forearm, making you shiver. Then looks up at you with a grin. “Hey, remember back when we were so lame no one ever invited us to parties so we would just spend our weekends at home watching movies and playing video games?”

“Remember? That was only like a couple of months ago. You may have forgotten your roots Mr. I’m-in-an-up-and-coming-band but it will always be the loser lifestyle for me.” 

You're joking but you do miss it. You miss when he was your Beomgyu and not Haeun's. Even if it was just in your head. You miss your best friend and not the asshole he became. 

“Yeah, right. You’re such a loser, you’re dating the lead singer of that band.” He mutters challengingly, staring you down. You’re so close, you only have to lean in a tiny bit to meet his lips, and by the way he’s looking at you, you think he wants it too. 

But then his phone rings and the moment is over. You snap back to your senses and quickly get off him, glancing at his phone. It’s Haeun. Of course. You feel so stupid. You’re not his girlfriend. You’re just his dumb friend who thinks she has a chance with him when he never expressed any interest in her and has in fact been in love with another woman–a woman who is now his girlfriend. 

“Baby–”

“Your girlfriend is calling. Answer her.” You tell him harshly, and he flinches, taken aback. He is silent for a second, searching your face for something, before he sighs. “Fine.” 

“Hey, baby.” He answers, looking at you as he uses the exact same nickname he just called you. You roll your eyes, starting the next phase in the game, trying not to let it show how hurt you are as you pointedly ignore him. “I’m good. Heading for bed.”

He pauses for a second during which you pretend you’re actually playing the game as he listens to what she’s telling him, before he says. “Baby, I can’t come over now. I’m tired… yeah, i’m just not feeling that well–No, no, don’t come over. I’m okay. It’s–” 

He shuts up abruptly and you look up to him to see him staring at his phone in frustration. 

“She’s coming over?” You raise an eyebrow and he sighs. “Wants to make sure I’m not sick.” 

“You’re so lucky.” You gush sarcastically. 

“Don’t start.” He warns.

“No. No. I’m really happy for you. Your love with Haeun is so special. So special in fact that you probably only share it with like five other men.” 

He laughs at that. “Oh yeah, it’s not like you’re dating boyfriend of the year either.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown, hands on your hips. 

“It means that you’re not the first groupie he’s had. You’re probably not even the only one. Hey, maybe if you stick around long enough, he’ll even introduce you to the others.”

“Fuck you, Beomgyu.” You hiss, grabbing your things and heading to your room.

You know you shouldn’t have goaded him. Things were going well. You were finally spending some quality time together, just the two of you, just like you did before. But then you had to open your mouth and let your ugly jealousy show. 

Doesn’t matter. It would’ve been ruined anyway when she arrived.  You’re not really in the mood for a live sex show. 

______________________________

But if you thought hiding in your room would shield you from it, then you were dead wrong. You can hear them even from under your pillows. You would put on some noise-canceling headphones but Beomgyu owns those and you really don’t want to go to his room and give your worst nightmares form.   

All you have to distract you now is your phone and your frantic messages to Yeonjun. 

You: Junnie. I’m seriously going to kill myself. 

Yeonjun: Are they that loud? 

You: Her mostly. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to make me vomit. 

Yeonjun: Maybe she is. Maybe she feels threatened by you. 

You: Threatened? That’s crazy. 

Yeonjun: You’re right. It’s not like you hooked up with him before or anything… oh wait. 

You: You’ll be my 13th reason. 

Yeonjun: I’m sorry. If you’re so upset, why don’t we go out? 

You: It’s 2 am…everything is closed.

Yeonjun: So? The streets are open. We can walk around. It’ll be fun.

You: I don’t know. Isn’t that kinda dangerous? 

Yeonjun: That’s the fun of it. But if you’d rather stay home and listen to her fuck the guy you love then be my guest. 

You: I’m getting dressed. 

____________________________

“Do you take these late night walks often?” You ask Yeonjun, hugging your jacket close to your body to fight against the chill in the air. 

“Sometimes. When I have time to.” He shrugs, his breath making visible vapor trails in the air. “There is just something so magical about that period of time between midnight and dawn, when everyone else is asleep and it’s just you and the stars. Feels almost magical, you know?” 

“Yeah. I know. It’s like you could say anything and everything and it would be safe from the light of the morning.” 

You know all this too well because you used to spend that precious time with Beomgyu, cuddled together into the late hours of the night watching movies or talking about nothing even when you knew you had an important lecture in the morning or band practice to go to. 

During those moments you thought that Beomgyu could almost feel how you feel. No two people could share what you shared without being in love, right? 

But it was just the spell of the night talking. There was nothing there. Not from him at least. 

You stop for a second, taking a look at the slumbering city around, looking into windows and wondering about the occupants inside–Are they happy? Are they with their loved one? Do they feel the magic around them? 

Does Beomgyu feel the same way you felt about him with her?

You feel arms wrap around you from behind, and Yeonjun rests his head on your shoulder. “It’s so peaceful, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” You relax against him, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to stay in the moment, willing the night to work its magic. 

“How cute.” You hear a gruff voice cut through your attempted peace, and your eyes snap open to see a man holding a knife out at you and Yeonjun. 

“Whoa, whoa.” Yeonjun pulls you behind him. “No need to get violent.” 

“There will be no need if you quietly pass over your phones and wallets.” The man gestures with his knife. 

“I can give you the wallets but I have very important files on my phone.” Yeonjun attempts to reason with him but the man gets closer with the knife. “Hand everything over.” 

“Okay. Okay.” Yeonjun tries to calm him down, while you do everything in your power not to shit yourself. You’ve never been held up at knifepoint before! This is what you get for listening to Yeonjun. The man has orange hair! No good ideas could come from him.

“That’s the fun of it.” You mutter under your breath as you get your stuff out, repeating Yeonjun’s earlier words. “Yeah, this is so fun.” 

You shoot Yeonjun a glare before reaching out to hand over your precious belongings, but as the man goes to take them, Yeonjun suddenly smacks his arm, causing the knife to drop out of his hand and onto the floor.

Both men lunge towards it, attempting to recover the knife, and for the few seconds they fight, your heart stops probably a couple of times. If the mugger gets the knife, you’re sure he’ll send you and Yeonjun off with a few new holes in your bodies. 

Thankfully though, Yeonjun manages to swipe the knife in the end, and he holds it out threateningly. Well, as threatening as you can be with your arm shaking. 

“Aha!” He screams at the mugger, who in turn raises his hands up in surrender. “Get away from us.” 

“That’s my knife.” The man says dumbly. 

“It’s mine now. That’s how it works, isn’t it?” Yeonjun counters, sounding a little crazed. “Now get the fuck away before I return it to you somewhere you wouldn’t like.” 

“You wouldn’t.” The man doubts Yeonjun. 

“Yeah? I was crazy enough to wrestle it from you. You don’t know what I would do.” 

“Fine. This isn’t worth it.” The man turns and runs away. 

You and Yeonjun stay frozen for a good few minutes.

“Holy shit.” He breaks the silence, “I can’t believe I did that!”

“I know! I almost passed out. You’re fucking crazy.” You smack his shoulder, “You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“I know. I wasn’t thinking. It all just happened so quickly.” He breathes in shock, then looks around. “We should probably clear out of here in case he comes back.” 

“Right.” 

You quickly walk away, hurried steps accompanied by the occasional disbelieving exclamation until you deem you’re far enough away. Finally, you stop, looking around to make sure the coast is clear and to gather your bearings. 

You don’t know what comes over you, maybe it’s the stress of nearly dying, but you suddenly burst out laughing. “Fuck, I still can’t believe you did that! We could have died.” 

“But we didn’t.” He tries to argue, grinning madly, “And now we got this cool trophy.” He brandishes the mugger's knife, happy with his conquest before a frown takes over his face. “Do you think he stabbed anyone with this before?” 

“Probably.” 

He lets go of the knife and it falls to the ground with a clang. “Ew.” 

You both burst out laughing again, letting the high emotions runs themselves dry. But as your crazed laughs die down, Yeonjun pulls you close and kisses you, expressing that passion in a different way. 

"Junnie…"

"Did the near death experience turn you on too or is it just me." He jokes and you blush. "Maybe." 

You feel his hands fiddling with the button on your pants, but you grab them to stop him. "No, let me do it this time."

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side. You know he knows what you mean but that he just wants to hear it from you. But instead of answering his question with your words, you get on your knees in front of him instead.

He cups your cheek gently. "You don't have to do this, doll."

"I want to." You undo his pants, taking his cock out and giving it a kiss. "Teach me?"

“That is so fucking sexy.” He hisses, gathering your hair in his hand. “Start slow. Don't overwhelm yourself. Just get it wet first."

“Okay.” You lick his cock, gathering your spit as you go and using your hand to spread it over his entire length. Bit by bit, his cock becomes more hard and slippery, letting you easily slide your hand over it, your tongue licking him everywhere from his shaft to the small opening on his head. 

“Okay, that’s enough teasing.You can start taking some of it in your mouth now.”  

“But I like teasing you. It’s payback, baby.” You grin, refusing to pull back, and starting to suck gently on his balls instead. You don’t know where all this confidence was coming from. You’ve never done this before. In fact, before Beomgyu, you didn’t have any sexual experience at all to speak of. 

But Yeonjun is not Beomgyu, and he doesn’t take your brattiness. He tugs on your hair pulling your head back until you’re completely off his cock, then he grabs your face with his other hand and pushes his thumb into your mouth, opening it. “Don’t make me punish you, doll. I want your first time to be nice so be good now.” 

He pushes you face towards his cock and this time you open up, obediently taking him in. “That’s it… no, no go slow.” He cautions when you take in more than you could, gagging a little bit. “I’m not going to fuck your throat. Not tonight, at least.”  

You moan around his length, squeezing your thighs together in need. 

“Aw, doll. He hasn’t been taking care of you, has he?” He purrs and you pull back, shaking your head. “Didn’t let him.” 

“Good.” He breathes, pushing your head back on his cock, encouraging you to take more and more of him, but being careful to not push you too far, always pulling you back when you start gagging. 

To be honest, you’re not doing much. You’re just letting him fuck your mouth, going along with the pace he sets. But he won’t let you slack. 

“Suck on it, baby.” He purrs, hand getting tighter in your hair, and you pucker your lips, sucking his cock every time you pull back. “Ah, that’s it. You’re doing so well.” 

You look up at him, seeing how he’s starting to struggle a little bit, the pleasure getting to him so you double your efforts, bobbing your head as far as you can go and sucking harshly as you go up. 

As you do that, you inadvertently pull off him with a pop, but before you can put your mouth on him again, he holds you back. “Spit on it. Get it all wet and sloppy.” 

You bite your lip, doing everything to not put your hand between your legs right now. You gather some spit in your mouth, grabbing his red, hard cock in your hand before spitting on it, immediately using your hand to spread the saliva over his length. 

“Use both hands. Twist them as you go up. Makes it feel like you’re milking my cock.” He groans, throwing his head back, and you stare at him, amazed. You never thought you’d actually have a guy feeling like this before. 

I mean, of course, if it was Beomgyu, he would’ve gathered a crowd around you because of his moans by now, but that’s Beomgyu. He’s a virgin and he thinks everything you do is sexy. But Yeonjun has had a lot of experience. So much so that he probably had more than a couple dozen girls blow him off before. 

Oh. You really shouldn’t have thought about that. Now you’re overthinking it, wondering if he actually likes it or if it’s just alright.  I mean, with Beomgyu he’d be babbling all about how good you’re making him feel and begging you not to stop and–

“Are you okay?” Yeonjun snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, I’m fine.” You squeak, quickly going back to doing that twisting motion he told you about and attaching your mouth to the tip of his cock, sucking on it as if you wanted to drain him. 

“Ah–it’s just–you were kind of–holy shit, that’s good…” He trails off, losing track of his thoughts. “Squeeze your hands as you do that. You’re not gonna hurt me.” 

You hold onto him tighter, letting your tongue prod at his slit as you suck him off and jerk him with your hands, determined to keep his mind off your little slip. 

“Okay, okay, I’m close. Gonna cum, doll, so unless you want it in your mouth then get off.” He tries to pull you away by your hair but you refuse, sucking on him harshly until you feel a warm fluid filling your mouth. “Oh, shit.”

You whine around his cock as your mouth fills up with his cum. You only pull back when he has no more to give, keeping his seed in your mouth for a second before hesitantly swallowing it down.

“Fuck, swallowing on your first time? What a dirty girl.” He purrs, gently smoothing your hair down from the mess he made of it.

He’s very gentle. He really took it slow with you. You should be happy that your first time was so positive, right?

But as you look up at him catching his breath, the strong taste of him on your tongue brings up an ugly feeling of regret. Oh god, if Beomgyu finds out about this, he’ll be so pissed. 

Why are you even doing this? Just to piss him off? Do you actually like Yeonjun? Do you think you can love him the way you love Beomgyu? And does he like you? I mean, he did tell you that he does, but what does that mean? Given his history and all, how many other girls does he like? How many other girls is he doing this with? 

Suddenly you feel dirty, and the pavement burn isn’t helping you feel less like a slut. 

“You okay?” Yeonjun asks again and you shake your head. 

 “Yeah! It just… tastes weird.” You deflect, and Yeonjun laughs, putting his cock back in his pants and helping you up. “I warned you.” 

“I was curious.” You shrug, throat closing up. “But now I really need water.” 

“I’ll get you some water. But first–” He pushes you against a wall, “Let me repay the favor.” 

He tries to lean down to kiss you, but you put a hand up to stop him. “That’s okay. Technically this was me repaying the favor.” 

“Well then owe me one more.” He suggests, trying again but you turn your head to the side. At that, he finally steps back, sighing. “What’s going on?”

"Are you… are you messing around with other women?" You ask uncertainly. Beomgyu really messed with your head. 

"Did you want us to be exclusive?" He asks, and you step away from the wall. "Oh."

Right. Of course. He’s the lead singer of the band. Of course he’ll have a dozen other women after him.  

"I just figured with you and Beomgyu–"

You’re stupid to think he’ll sit around and wait for you. "No, I get it." 

"I swear I am not as much of a manwhore as you probably now think I am." He insists, “It’s just… we’re not dating, right?”

“Right.” You confirm. 

“But if you want to. We can try.” 

You give him a smile with some effort. “We’ll see.” You look up into the sky. "The sun is coming up. Let's go home."

______________________________

By the time you reach home, all the stars have disappeared, drowned out by the oppressive sunlight, and you hope to god Beomgyu is fast asleep. 

"Want me to come inside?" Yeonjun suggests but you shake your head. “No. I’ll just go to sleep. You should too.” 

“Right.” He sighs and moves to leave but then stops abruptly in his tracks. "You didn't say you wanted–"

"Just let me think, Yeonjun." You interrupt, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he still looks unsure. “Good night.” 

You don’t let him say more, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you quietly. You look around to make sure the coast is clear before treading lightly to your room. 

"Welcome home.” Beomgyu’s voice stops you in your tracks, and you wince as you turn towards him, seeing him standing in the door of the kitchen holding some coffee. “I suppose you were with Yeonjun again."

“It's not what you think." You don’t know why you’re lying. You don’t know why you even feel guilty about this. Haeun must be sleeping in his bed right this moment. 

"So you didn't go out and hook up with him?" He asks and you stay quiet, making him scoff. “Of course.” 

You let out a heavy breath. "Beomgyu, I can't deal with this right now. I’m tired.”

“Do you like him?” He ignores what you said, tone serious, and you have to stop and think about it for a while.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” You say at last, feeling lost. You don’t mean to goad him. You just don’t understand his behavior and it’s time he made some sense of it. 

“I just don’t want you to fuck up my band.” He says simply and you stare at him, even more lost. “What?” 

“If you date him and then you break up, it’ll make everything awkward between me and him. This sort of thing has broken up bands before and I just didn’t want that to happen. I don’t want to lose what could be my future because you wanted some dick.” 

You let out an incredulous laugh, tears stinging your eyes. Is that all he cares about? So it’s not about Yeonjun or even about you. It’s because he’s worried about his precious band.  

“Well, that’s not up to you. Is it?” You ask bitterly, but that just riles him up more and he gets all up in your face. “Like hell, it is. This is my future.” 

“Well, this is my future too. Yeonjun could be the one for me.”

He staggers back. “What?” He breathes, stunned. 

“I don’t know!” You exclaim, feeling completely overwhelmed by everything that has happened today and just needing to retreat back to your room and curl up into a ball until you’re able to push the bad feelings away. 

“I need to rest.” You turn around, running to your room and leaving a shell-shocked Beomgyu rooted to the floor. 

______________________

A/N: feedback keeps me going so drop a message about what you think of the new chapter to motivate me to get the next chapter out faster 😂

and once again

Taglist: @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr

[thewertsearch]

It's wert (heh) pointing out that the Aradiabot timeline where Gamzee flipped out and killed everybody in the session might not be one where Vriska was godtier, making this slightly less of an insane feat. With the error bars so large on what this could've been, I don't know what this tells us of his power level. That said, I do have a lot of speculations! (This is very long, my apologies.)

I think the lower bound of what the doomed Gamzee did was something like this:

Gamzee kills Equius (free) and then Nepeta (not using her hunting skills and speed to her fullest advantage). Nobody realises anything is amiss; the meowrails could simply be doing moirail things with their phones off.

Gamzee gets the jump on Eridan who doesn't know to take him seriously and whose best weapon is at this point the long-ranged Ahab's Crosshairs. People assume he's moping.

Gamzee kills Tavros and Vriska while questing at Vriska's. Aradiabot at this point probably knows that the timeline is doomed, so if she finds it odd Eridan hasn't duelled Sollux yet she'll either put it down to divergence, or not care because doomed innit. She's making preparations to leave, not fix things.

Gamzee kills Terezi and Karkat. Even if they know at this point, I doubt Karkat could fully believe it until he laid eyes on the bodies, and Terezi could well try arresting him before she goes to kill him. Karkat was the one who sent Equius after Gamzee in the main timeline, and while that was a doomed venture, he is pretty much the only person thinking in terms of team strategy in the trolls' session.

Kanaya, having worked out some of what's happening, has been messaging people like mad to rally some sort of party together to beat him, but she's getting a lot of no replies, except for Aradia who just unhelpfully tells her everything's doomed innit.

Gamzee kills Sollux before Feferi (we've seen Feferi's revenge leap, whereas Sollux's power and range and ability to fly make me think his revenge blast might well level anything within a few miles).

Kanaya goes to fight him and is killed. She goes down. When she comes back up again, Gamzee is gone to collect the bodies into a single place, and without any blood to suck, her rainbow drinker powers can't bring her back fully. When he gets back to retrieve her body, he kills her again, and this one sticks.

Aradia arrives after he finishes covering the book in blood and, forewarned and forearmed, kills him.

Gamzee has a lot of strength and speed, so if he gets near somebody who doesn't realise he's snapped, he could probably kill that person. Stealth and miscommunication do most of his work for him, with the rest largely down to people in the right order (Equius before Nepeta, Karkat before he can wrangle people into a defence, Kanaya not around any blood sources, etc).

While on the other hand the upper bound could easily have been:

Gamzee kills Karkat and Kanaya publicly but without immediate access to more victims (i.e. somebody's watching them on the Server side, or Karkat was mid-memo rant when he dies). Everybody knows immediately that he's snapped.

He then kills Nepeta, which is enough to send Equius into a rage when he finds out. He doesn't find out yet.

While people are talking about Karkat and Kanaya's deaths, he attacks Tavros and (godtiered) Vriska. He kills Tavros and is so much of a threat that Vriska has to retreat (as you can imagine, when she realises she had to run away, she gets very pissed and starts hunting Gamzee).

Kanaya comes back to life, sucks Karkat's blood, our girl is back in action and she has no mercy.

Equius realises Gamzee killed Nepeta.

Terezi, realising Gamzee is a big threat, lures him to a favourable location for her with plans to kill him. She does this on a public memo so everybody knows where she is and where he's planning to be.

On his way to Terezi's planet, Gamzee runs into Feferi and she fights him and gets killed. Sollux and Eridan learn this right away.

As Gamzee arrives at Terezi's trap, Vriska and Equius arrive pretty much at the same time. Terezi fights Gamzee and dies.

Immediately after, Vriska and Equius try to defeat him. Vriska might not be going for the kill straightaway, but Equius 100% is.

Gamzee kills Equius, which makes Vriska see it's to the death. Kanaya and Eridan (armed with a science wand Kanaya gave him for other reasons at some point) arrive, but fail to put a dent in him. Vriska manages to stay alive for longer, maybe Kanaya does too with her speed, but Eridan dies.

Sollux arrives, and it's a 3v1 with Vriska, Kanaya, and Sollux versus Gamzee. Kanaya dies, and then Solluz, and then Kanaya again, and then Vriska.

Aradia arrives to find Gamzee distracted by scrawling over the book, and as he finishes the last character on the last page, she kills him.

I don't know which one is more realistic or where the actual event lies in between them, but those are kind of the upper and lower bounds I feel like there are for what 'Gamzee flipped out and killed everyone' could mean in that timeline. And incidentally, if anybody wants to write those up as fanfics I'll absolutely read them lol

Sorry for the pages of text, just thought it was an interesting thing to note: we don't know how Gamzee killed everybody! Thought that was ripe for speculation.

Loving the liveblog, hope you're having a great day!

I love the level of detail you're put into this analysis.

There are some extremely evocative scenes here. A confrontation where he forces God Tier Vriska to retreat is something I'd love to see expounded upon - and I particularly like the image of an Aradiabot who stumbles upon a barely-coherent, HONKsick Gamzee, silently observes the bodies, and telekinetically snaps his neck.

Out of these two scenarios, I believe the second is probably closer to the truth. While Frenzied Gamzee is capable of being sneaky, he seems to generally prefer shock tactics and intimidation, so a bloody warpath seems more plausible than a stealth-focused approach.

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning

chapter warnings/tags: fluff, angst, mentions of physical harm (bruises and bite marks), choso is literally a protective sweetie, reader starts getting butterflies for choso A/N: I literally dream of Choso comforting me y'all, literally sweetie pie 😭

index part six | part eight

part seven word count: 2,410

you had been working tirelessly to dodge Sukuna as if he were a plague. considering your body felt like it had been ravaged by an actual epidemic—with sore, aching muscles and bruises that seemed to throb with every movement—it seemed like a reasonable strategy. whenever you knew Sukuna was in the kitchen or the living room, you’d retreat to your room, barricading yourself from his presence. for two days, your efforts had been successful.

with both Choso and Yuji off on their separate errands, you experienced a mix of relief and frustration. on one hand, their absence meant you wouldn’t be questioned about your strange behavior. on the other, it also meant you lacked any diversion from Sukuna’s looming presence. deep down, you knew you’d have to confront him sooner or later—whether to unleash your anger or break down in tears.

maybe you were at fault; after all, you had ventured into the situation knowingly. but you hadn’t anticipated things spiraling the way they did, and certainly didn’t want them to end so badly.

one thing you knew for sure – you didn’t deserve to be kicked out immediately after.

luckily for you, you had heard everyone leave the house just moments ago. the prospect of raiding the kitchen filled you with silent joy. with no reason to remain hidden, you wandered out of your room in casual shorts and a t-shirt, your growling stomach pulling you toward the kitchen.

you peeked into the fridge, trying to decide whether to eat Yuji’s leftovers or cook something yourself. yeah, you were definitely going for Yuji’s leftovers. you’d make it up to him later—maybe.

after reheating the food and settling down at the bar, you forced yourself not to look at the counter where Sukuna had previously placed you. the thought of it nearly spoiled your appetite with anxiety.

just as you began to enjoy your meal, convinced that luck was finally on your side, you quickly discovered that the gods had other plans.

how did you miss the sound of the door being unlocked? you froze mid-bite, your eyes darting up just as Choso walked in through the front door. he hadn't noticed you yet, and you quickly considered ducking under the counter to stay out of sight.

“oh, hey y’n,” Choso greeted with a warm smile as he spotted you. you must have looked like a startled possum, wide-eyed and frozen in place. Choso’s smile faded into a concerned frown as he noticed your stunned expression. “are you okay?”

you snapped out of your daze, trying to muster up a casual, cheerful demeanor. “oh, hey Choso! yeah, I’m fine. just didn’t expect anyone to be home.”

Choso chuckled and shook his head as he placed his keys on the counter and headed straight for the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. “haven’t seen you out of your room in a while. have you been sick?”

sick, sure.

“um, yeah. I don’t really know what’s been going on with me,” you said, shoveling more food into your mouth. you hoped Choso would fall into his usual quiet routine and retreat back to his room.

but Choso’s attention was fixed on you as he moved around the bar. he gently tapped your forehead with the back of his hand, clearly checking for a fever.

“hm, you don’t feel feverish,” he said, looking thoughtful. “so maybe—”

you wanted to disappear when you saw Choso freeze, his eyes locked on your neck where the bruises, shaped like teeth and fingerprints, were unmistakably visible.

“did you—” he began to ask, but you leapt from your seat, cutting him off.

“it’s not what you think!” you blurted out, the words spilling out uncontrollably. however, standing up turned out to be a terrible decision. Choso’s gaze dropped to your thighs, where the bruises were just as evident.

you could see the horror in Choso’s eyes as he pieced together the disturbing sight before him. you knew exactly what he was thinking, and his reaction confirmed it.

“Choso, it’s—”

“who the hell did this to you?” Choso’s voice was filled with so much anger as he moved closer, reaching out for your arm. you braced yourself with a flinch, but his touch was unexpectedly gentle, like a warm caress. “y/n, why did you just flinch?”

“I know what it looks like, but I’m fine,” you stammered, trying to keep your emotions in check. despite your best efforts to keep your feelings contained, they were starting to bubble over.

“it doesn’t look like you’re fine.” Choso’s anger softened, and his tone became more compassionate as he continued to examine your skin for any other marks. you felt like a specimen under a microscope, unable to move as he inspected every visible bruise.

“I promise I’m fine,” you insisted, though you could feel the emotional dam inside you cracking.

“who did this to you?” Choso’s single, pleading question, delivered with such a gentle tone, was all it took. the lock on your emotions broke, and the floodgates opened wide.

the tears you had been desperately trying to hold back began to trickle down your cheeks, and as soon as Choso noticed, he pulled you into a tender embrace, resting your head against his chest.

“it’s my fault, I wanted to,” you cried out, your voice breaking as you buried your face in his shirt. the sobs came uncontrollably now, shaking your whole body. “I wanted to do it, I just didn’t know it would be like this. everything hurts now, and it’s all my fault.”

“shh, it’s okay,” Choso murmured soothingly, his hand gently stroking the back of your head. you could feel the rapid beat of his heart through his chest where your ear was pressed. you were desperate for him not to be angry, and the thought of him confronting Sukuna filled you with dread.

“it’s not supposed to be like this, right?” you asked through your sniffles, seeking some reassurance.

suddenly, you felt Choso pull back slightly, lifting your chin so you had to look up at him. the look in his eyes was intense, a mix of anger and concern.

“no. no, it’s not supposed to be like this,” Choso confirmed with a firm, unyielding tone. you nodded slightly against his hand, but he kept his grip steady, making sure you stayed focused on him. “listen to me—whoever did this should have asked you if this was what you wanted. whether or not you consented, if you didn’t want to end up like this… they should have asked.”

he was right, damn it. you knew he was right, but you were still lost. Sukuna hadn’t always been terrible—there were parts of him you had seen that were softer, kinder, that he didn’t show to anyone else. now, everything you thought you knew was under question, and you felt adrift, unsure of where to go from here.

“is this why you’ve been hiding in your room?” Choso asked, his voice filled with concern as he noticed your small nod. “you have to tell me, y/n. who did this to you?”

“why, because you’re going to beat them up?” you tried to joke, but the uncertainty in your voice betrayed your fear. you needed to know whether Choso would confront Sukuna. hell, the thought of Yuji finding out made you shudder.

Choso’s eyes grew dark, and his expression hardened as he stared into your tear-filled eyes. “yes.”

his answer was a heavy confirmation. you knew you couldn’t reveal the truth; it was a secret you’d carry with you forever.

“I don’t know,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though it was a weak excuse. you could see Choso’s wariness growing. “I don’t remember his name.” there, that was a better excuse for him to latch onto.

“we’ll figure it out,” Choso murmured softly, pulling you into another enveloping hug. the warmth of his embrace felt like a balm to your aching soul, offering the comfort you had been craving since that night with Sukuna.

his hug was like a cozy blanket fresh out of the dryer, wrapping you in a soothing warmth. you felt safe and secure within his arms. as you took a deep breath, the scent of lavender soap filled your senses. the calming fragrance overwhelmed you with a sense of peace, and you could almost imagine breathing it in again.

you pulled back suddenly, realizing how your thoughts were spiraling. once the comforting scent of lavender faded, a wave of anxiety washed over you. “oh my god, Choso, please don’t tell Yuji,” you pleaded, panic evident in your voice. you were increasingly worried about how your best friend would react.

“y/n, he’ll want to know what happened,” Choso urged, his hands gently gripping your arms as if to anchor you in place. “you can’t keep this from him.”

“yes, I can. I’ve managed to hide it for the past two days, and I can keep doing it until my skin heals,” you insisted, desperate to keep the situation under wraps.

“I’m telling him.”

“no, you’re not!” you countered, your voice rising in desperation.

“I am,” Choso said firmly. “either you tell him, or I will.” his expression was resolute, his tone leaving no room for argument. “let him be there to help you.”

“but I have you,” you argued, hoping that was enough to persuade him. when Choso shook his head, you sighed in resignation. “fine, I’ll tell him. but only if you promise to be there to stop him from doing something reckless.”

a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Choso’s lips, as if he was trying to contain it. “if he knows who did this, I’m not stopping him.”

“ugh, you men and your bravado,” you teased, finally managing to wipe away the tears that had been staining your face. you knew Choso was right; Yuji would need to know, even if it was the last thing you wanted. it would only hurt him more if he heard it from Choso first.

“do you want another hug?” Choso asked quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any lingering signs of distress.

even though you felt better, you nodded. Choso pulled you into another embrace, his warmth a comforting balm against the chaos of your emotions.

what you hadn’t realized, however, was that Yuji had walked in just as Choso wrapped his arms around you again.

Yuji stood in the doorway, his expression frozen in shock as he took in the sight of you wrapped in Choso’s arms. the room seemed to freeze, the air thick with tension.

Choso’s embrace tightened slightly, as if trying to shield you from Yuji’s view. you felt a fresh wave of panic, realizing that your shortly managed secret was about to be exposed.

“y/n?” Yuji’s voice was a mix of concern and confusion. he stepped further into the room, his eyes darting between you and Choso.

you tried to pull away from Choso, but his arms remained firm, offering you a comforting presence. “Yuji, it’s not what it looks like,” you started, your voice trembling.

Choso finally released you, turning to face Yuji with a serious expression. “Yuji, there’s something you need to know.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

once Yuji got it out of his head that something was happening between you and Choso, explaining everything to him went faster than it did with Choso, mostly because you’d already laid everything bare once. however, the real challenge was dealing with the aftermath.

Yuji was pacing the living room floor, his agitation palpable as he marched back and forth. you and Choso sat on the couch, your eyes tracking Yuji’s restless movements.

“I’ll kill him,” Yuji growled, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “I don’t care who he is or how big he is—I’ll kill him.” his voice was a low, dangerous rumble. for what felt like the umpteenth time, you shook your head. you weren’t sure how he’d react if he knew it was his own brother.

“no one’s killing anyone,” you said firmly, but it was clear your words were barely registering with him.

“I’ll help you kill him,” Choso added, his tone supportive but firm. you swatted his arm in a half-hearted attempt to get him to back off, earning a surprised “ow” from him.

Yuji’s fierce determination seemed to waver as he suddenly stopped his pacing and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. his face was a picture of concern. “what do you need? are you okay? do you want some soba? maybe some dessert?” his words tumbled out in a rush, and you couldn’t help but smile. leave it to Yuji to offer comfort through food.

“Yuji, I’m okay,” you said, patting his head in a soothing gesture, like a mother comforting a child. his eyes remained locked on yours. “I’m maybe a little sore, but I’m okay now.”

“so you don’t want soba?” Yuji asked again, tilting his head like a confused puppy. that adorable, earnest look made it impossible to say no.

“if you really want to get soba, just say so,” you teased. Choso chuckled beside you, having already figured out that Yuji’s need for food was more about his own hunger than anything else. “but if you’re ordering soba, you might as well get me some too.”

“yes!” Yuji exclaimed, his face lighting up with determination. in a flash, his phone was out, and he was placing an order without even asking you what you wanted—no doubt already selecting your favorite.

“listen, y/n,” Choso said softly from beside you, catching your attention. his eyes were still clouded with anger, but his features were gentle and caring. “don’t go hiding in your room again. please, for me.”

“and for me!” Yuji shouted from where he was focused on his phone, not looking up.

the intensity in Choso’s eyes was something else entirely—a fierce protectiveness that sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart race in your chest.

“don’t worry, Choso,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “I promise I’ll get back to nagging you about your music.” your attempt at humor made Choso smile—a wide, genuine beam that seemed to light up his whole face. he nudged his shoulder against yours affectionately.

“fine,” he said, still smiling, “I’ll let you pick the music if it makes you feel better.”

“really?!”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink

i hope i didn't miss anyone! tumblr has been finicky with my tags if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[stardewsnail]

Can you write head cannons of how the bachelors would react when jealous? Perhaps they heard their farmer was giving gifts to other bachelors. Can be NSFW. K love you byeee

This is a bit inconsistent because of how familiar I am with them/how interesting I thought their reactions would be–some of these are head canons and some of them are drabbles. Somewhere along the way I realized I switched from they/them pronouns to she/her so I guess this is about a fem farmer now lol–hope you enjoy! 

Bachelors get jealous 

MINORS DNI; cw: sexual activity, jealousy, sad boi hours

Shane 

- very different if he’s with the farmer or not bc I feel like he’s used to being envious of others 

- When he sees the farmer bringing Elliot a bottle of wine or Sam a cactus fruit he feels like he has no valid reason to be jealous. He’s just embarrassed and ashamed of his own feelings.  

- Like, obviously the pretty, successful, kind farmer isn’t going to be interested in him? He’s working at the Joja mart and drinking away his money—he’s barely keeping it together and he comes with a kid. Not exactly the biggest catch

- After the cliffs he had come to terms with his crush and is just sort of leaving it because he cannot imagine her reciprocating his growing feelings. That’s fine, he loves having her in his life regardless. He doesn’t have the expectation that they’ll ever return his feelings and that’s okay. He gets a therapist and focuses on getting better for himself and the others in his life

But if they’re together it’s different

- He retreats into himself and has a bit of a mental spiral (ranging from “it was bound to happen eventually” to “oh god our chickens are going to come from a broken home”) 

- Fortunately he has a therapist to work through things with so he’s able to actually express himself to the farmer in a healthy way and receive the emotional validation that the farmer does in fact love them and their chickens will grow up with parents who love each other 

- He’ll pull her onto his lap or against his chest and if the vibe is right the cuddling might turn into a make out session which might get handsy—Shane is extra needy after all this, lingering through the motions. After sex he stays inside her for a minute, just sharing breath and being as close as possible

- Shane alternates being big and little spoon don’t @ me 

I feel like Shane having a therapist pulls a lot of the “drama” out of him being jealous because he’s so focused on developing healthier coping strategies so him talking about his feelings directly is a big step!

...

Sebastian 

Pre relationship

“Motherfucker-!” Sebastian snarled, watching his avatar die yet again. In his headset Sam groaned, quickly meeting a similar fate. Abigail, now left alone, didn’t fare much better. 

“Okay, it’s 4, I’m calling…” A yawn cut through Sam’s words, “….it.” 

Sebastian winced, glancing at the clock, “Damn—yeah. Night, guys.” It was stupid late. He was going to regret this tomorrow. No, actually, he was already regretting it. Now he was just pissed at the game and at—he shoved that thought down, feeling heat rise to his face. He dropped heavily onto the bed, arm thrown over his eyes. His head hurt. 

And he really didn’t want to deal with the bolt of anger that shocked him when he saw Alex throw his arm around the farmer. Her face was lit up with laughter as they shared some joke—the jock had only touched her for a moment and sure, it might not actually mean anything—but he was jealous. And even a solid nine hours of league had done nothing to subdue the feeling that boiled in his chest. It wasn’t even like the farmer didn’t talk to him either—and while she brought everyone little gifts, he’d had the thought that maybe his were special. A foolish, hopeful thought. Alex was outgoing, athletic, and only still lived at home to care for his grandparents. Sebastian was a twenty-four year old college dropout living in his mom’s basement filling his time with gaming. God, he really was a loser. Fortunately he was unconscious before he really had to deal with that. 

… 

Knock, knock, knock

Sebastian groaned, burrowing farther under his pillow. His mom always woke him up when she made breakfast even if he wasn’t actually required to get up. Maybe later he could ask her what she knew about the farmer. He was pretty sure she was still working on upgrading their coop anyway. It wouldn’t be an odd question. He rolled over, trying to relax back down into sleep. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the second knock sounded. If he ignored it, chances are his mom would leave him be. But then she knocked again, a little harder this time. He swore under his breath as he hauled himself out of bed, not bothering to hit the lights before throwing open the door with more force than strictly necessary. 

The farmer’s hand was still raised to knock and she froze, looking up at him with raised eyebrows. 

Sebastian’s entire brain blue-screened. It crashed. It attempted to restart. It failed. It tried again but all that came up was how he must look—an old band t-shirt, unbrushed hair, stubbled chin, frog-print boxers—holy shit he wasn’t even wearing pants.  

“Good morning!” She said, cheeks pink. It certainly wasn’t morning, that much he knew.  Sebastian wished the floor would swallow him right then and there. “Sam said you guys were up late playing games so I brought you this,” she held up the coffee in her other hand, “Robin said I was fine to come down, I didn’t think you’d be asleep, sorry—“ 

“I needed to get up anyway,” he said, a bit too fast. He ran his hand over his hair, trying to judge its state and was quickly dismayed. Fuck, she was pretty. Great impression Sebastian. Great job. 

“Thank you,” he added, finally accepting the warm paper cup. 

“I started growing coffee beans a while ago,” she continued, fidgeting and definitely noticing his lack of pants, “This is the first of it. Let me know how it is, I’m still experimenting with roasting.”

“Oh wow,” he took a sip realizing not only was the coffee delightful, she’d also added cream and just a touch of sugar–exactly how he took it, “This is really good. Thank you.” 

She lit up, “Oh good! I was hoping you’d like it.” She was hoping he’d like it? Him specifically? The caffeine hadn’t hit him yet, but the taste of coffee still got his brain moving. He noticed the fishing pole sticking out of her pack.

“Are you headed to the lake?” he asked, before he could really think it through.

“Yeah–I wanted to do some fishing,” she rocked on her feet, “I’ll let you get back to it–”

Shit, that hadn’t been his intent.

“D’you want company?” he cut her off, flushing when she just looked up at him with a smile.

“That would be really nice–you can tell me about your game. It sounded fun but I didn’t quite understand when Sam was talking about it.” 

“Great,” he said, “I’ll uh…meet you out there?” He still wasn’t wearing pants.

 Dating 

Sebastian trusted his girlfriend. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that seeing her smile and shyly give Elliot a bottle of her mead had shaken the dust off his old companion, jealousy, and now he didn’t know what to do with the itch in his skin.

He’d spent the day working on his bike, music blasting, a scowl etched on his face. At some point Demetrius had come out to say something, but a glance at Sebastian’s face had him simply turning tail back to the house. 

It was better he got it all out of his system before he met up with the farmer at the saloon. 

Some time and a hot shower later he was entering the saloon, wondering if she had beat him there–and she had. 

And Elliot was there, fawning over the farmer who had a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles as the writer told some dramatic story, talking with animated hands. 

He was across the bar in a second, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side. The lazy grin he gave Elliot was more a challenge than anything–he didn’t know where this sudden boldness was coming from–Elliot didn’t seem like the type to pull something but there was a primal need to mark his territory. The farmer was his.  

She flashed him a grin, her hand coming to rest in his back pocket, and finished what she was saying. 

“Hey, babe,” she said, pushing to her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips, “I got here early–want to get in some practice before Sam and Abby show up?”

“Need a warm up?” he teased, “Think that will help you beat me?”

“One of these days,” she bumped his hip with her own, “I’m gonna win. Talk to you later, Elliot!” she added. Elliot said something in response before slinking back to where Leah was sitting, watching as if this was her very own reality TV show.

...

Harvey

Harvey wasn’t jealous. The farmer was just a friend–she was kind and generous and liked giving gifts! Most mornings she popped by the clinic to bring him a coffee and chat for a few minutes between appointments. 

It was only natural for her to prefer someone less devoted to their work, younger and more aligned with the pop culture she was familiar with. Sam was a ray of sunshine, and seeing him light up when the farmer had offered him a cactus fruit had sent a spike of something that was not jealousy through his chest. 

He spends all his free time for the next few days pouring over his model planes, completing two kits in record time. Between that and the kids in town catching something nasty and viral, he hadn’t even seen her in a week. Which was fine. 

He hadn’t anticipated her to be waiting right outside the door of the clinic, swinging it open as soon as the lock turned. If he had been any slower, she probably would have hit him with it. Her eyes were piercing as she held out the coffee, a small frown on her face.

“Have you been avoiding me?” her words were blunt and heat rose to his face, hands raised as if that would be enough to convince her of his words. 

“No–no, I just–well–” he swallowed, looking anywhere but her face, “You just seemed busy and like you were spending time with Sam and–” She was giving him this small smile that had his stomach turn to jelly, and now he didn’t know what to do with his hands. She held out the coffee. 

“Want to meet up at the saloon later?”

“Yes!” His reply might have been a bit eager,  but he didn’t care because her face simply lit up. 

“Great, it’s a date.” and then she turned out the door, going on her merry way before he could even process her words. 

...

Alex

- to be honest before they’re dating I think he would just AGGRESSIVELY do push ups where the farmer could see 

- or he’ll make a comment about how hot Haley is looking to the farmer

- Either way he tells Haley about “how well he handled it” and she is so, so tired. 

Alex doesn’t care that the farmer went all the way into the mines to find that special rock for Sebastian. It wasn’t even Sebastian’s birthday or anything, she was just nice and he was not bothered. 

He wasn’t bothered when he was doing push-ups.

He wasn’t bothered when he was squating. 

He wasn’t even bothered while doing his deadlifts. 

And while he showered, he totally wasn’t thinking about how she looked so pleased when she showed him the gem, mentioning that it was Sebastian’s favorite.

Now they were sitting on her bed, watching some movie that he couldn’t quite parse over his churning thoughts. He’d been inching closer and closer without realizing, and now he shifted to rest his head in her lap watching her instead of the movie. 

Immediately her hands found their way to stroke through his hair. She smoothed his brow, and he realized he’d been frowning. 

“What’s up?” she asked, ever perceptive. 

“Nothing,” he replied reflexively, and she paused the movie, waiting for him to continue.

“You…like me, right?” His voice was quiet, and if it wasn’t her he would be too embarrassed to ask such a vulnerable question. 

“I love you, actually.” She said it so casually he took a second to process the confession. Her smile was soft. 

Never one for words over actions, he sat up, closing the distance between them with a kiss.

...

Sam 

- I feel like Sam would try to cover any jealousy with a smile and positive attitude but something about the farmer “doting” on Alex and making him baked salmon really bothered him 

- He asks Shane for advice because that’s his work dad/adult and Shane just looks up at the security camera like it’s the office but does try to give advice because he’s fond of the kid 

- His advice is literally just for Sam to make a move because so help him god if he has to head about the farmers eyes one more time 

...

Elliot 

- He’s in denial that he’s jealous 

- I feel like Elliot’s solution to every emotional problem is writing

- He would probably end up projecting it onto his characters writing a scene where somebody is jealous (because he’s not jealous nope. He’s not jealous at all) 

- He’s a little moodier, a little more sardonic and eventually the farmer asks what’s bugging him–he assures her that it’s just difficulty with his novel

- He doesn’t say he’s jealous nope

- He's just gonna go full Gomez Addams and make love to them in a bit of a frenzy—I’m talking a trail of clothes, fucking her right on his desk.

- He’s leaving hickies, the farmer is being claimed 

- The farmer is being RAVISHED 

- He probably won’t bring it up bc he does trust the farmer completely and knows it’s his own anxiety and the farmer more than reassured him on the reg and he can trust that

...

I’m hiding my dumbass notes waaaaaaay down here

I wrote this while zoinked and made up a whole ass bachelor named Mike and sat there for a good min wondering why I could remember anything about Mike, who the FUCK is Mike????

Am I writing Elliot ravishing the farmer on the desk? Yes, but this reply was getting a little long so it’s coming later

I’ve been a little slow on requests lately, but my spouse is going to be out of town for the next month so I should have a lot more time to working on these :) it brings me such joy every time I get that lil notification, thanks y’all <3