#anyway as i said i will not be addressing this again but this post had to be made bc some of y’all desperately missed the point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

norrizzandpia · 29 days

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i think this would suit lando but you being down and lando comes over later at night and takes you the park like two little kids, i can just imagine lando being a big kid at the park lmao

I’m going to need someone to love me like the fictional lando i write abt 24/7

We Can Be Kids For Right Now (LN4)

Summary: When her week has tried to suffocate her, Lando turns up at her door and forces her to remember just how worthy she truly is.

Warnings: mentions of heavy anxiety attacks, anxiety in general, language

Note: a draft bc im wrecked rn from this trip im on im so tried lol… I hate that I have to start saying this but I do not condone the reposting of my work without proper crediting or permission. If you wish to post my works elsewhere, it needs to be ran by me first by messages over Tumblr. If found that you have taken my works without my knowledge, I will report you and get my posts taken down from your blog.

Y/n never truly realized she did it until Lando, but when the man started to get close to her, he brought it to her attention that she so easily isolated herself when she started struggling. Even the smallest inconvenience and she shut down, something that irritated the hell out of Lando. Nevertheless, he loved her and the way she dealt with her emotions was something he knew she just needed to work on.

However, the problem they couldn’t get past was her ability to tell him when she was struggling. There were only so many times when he could see it written all over her face.

His comments urging her to open up to him when she was having a hard time dealing with it on her own bounced around in her head as she clutched her phone in her hands, his contact picture brightening her screen. His smile beamed back at her, almost coaxing her into tapping the call button, but her thumb hesitated. It wasn’t that she was afraid of telling him, it was that she was uncomfortable with her own emotions. Uncomfortable of leaning into them. Growing up, she was never given that ability, her parents not having the full capacity to address them head on. She never thought it truly affected her until Lando. She started realizing that he never gave her a problem to be scared, but she still was.

Her thumb had a mind of its own, though. Thankfully. And the ringing tone met her ears before she could even know what was happening. His picking up happened before she could even begin to think about hanging up the phone.

“Baby!” His cheery voice rang through the quiet room and warmed her tender heart. “What’s up? Why are you up so late? Do you want a sweet treat again?” He giggled, his TV pausing in the background.

She was silent. Her mind raced as she tried to make the split second decision of telling him or not. Though, in her silence, he began formulating an answer.

“Y/n…” He whispered, blankets rustling as she imagined him sitting up on his couch.

“Lan,” She said brokenly, albeit with an effort of trying to sound strong.

Keys rustling and his rushed, “I’m on my way, baby,” were her response.

—

Lando knew where the spare key was. It was one of the first things he asked the location of after they first said I love you. Y/n would always laugh at that memory. What she was expecting after the three words were shared was a small kiss or a hug maybe, but no, he had asked her where her spare key was. When she showed him and he very clearly took a mental note of it, she asked him what was so important about it.

“I’m your boyfriend and we’re in love. I should know where the spare key is, baby.” He had said to her so nonchalantly, as if it was societally normal to have that thought process. She just shook her head at him and took the kiss she wanted for herself. He wasn’t going to do it anyway, too entranced in the image of her spare key under her doormat. He was shenanigans bundled into one person. She loved it.

His rapping on the door pulled her from her memories. She drudged over, taking a deep breath before opening the door. He stood there in his pajamas, puffer coat thrown over haphazardly, and stared at her sympathetically. He shuffled in, arm rounding around her shoulders as he kissed her head, “Hard day?”

She sighed, “Hard week.”

He led her to the couch. The layout of her apartment was memorized in his head. “What happened?”

“I just-” She picked at her fingernails and the anxiety she usually felt when Lando asked about her worries began bubbling up. Maybe it was growth, but she thought he’s already here, isn’t he? Might as well lean on him.

So, she did. Literally and figuratively.

Lando squeezed her body as her side laid on his and she started reliving the low moments of the past few days. “Everything has gone wrong this week. I just can’t seem to win and I can’t make anyone happy.”

Tears filled her eyes and a frown appeared on her face. She cried into his shoulder when he pushed her body further into it.

Lando sat with her for a moment, rubbing her back. “That’s not true, Y/n. You make a lot of people happy. You make me really happy.”

For some reason, his comment shot fear through her body and she pulled from him. Her eyes looked anywhere other than his and the irrational idea of an expectation Lando had set for her that she did not believe in herself to meet took control of whatever plan she had to open up to him.

Lando saw it in her eyes, how distant they got. He knew this was bound to happen. It had been too easy. She had opened up to him without that much restraint and he expected a moment to come where her walls rebuilt themselves.

He just wanted her to let him in.

His hands took her face, “You deserve me. You will not let me down. You could never let me down.” He said, knowing exactly what was running through her mind.

“Y/n, look at me.” He tilted his head to meet her eyes and forced her to keep his stare, “I love you. That will never change.”

She cried harder, “I can’t even open up to you, Lan. I’m not even a good employee at a job I’m overqualified for. Yesterday, I handed in that presentation to my boss that I had been working on for weeks and when I presented it to the board of all fucking people, there was a grammatical error on one of the slides. I had confused ‘your’ and ‘you are’, Lan. It was embarrassing. They laughed and joked about it after. I can’t even fucking do my job. And I upset my mum on Wednesday. I hung up on her during an argument and now she isn’t talking to me. I’m being condemned, Lan. I can’t fucking breathe. My dad’s texting me, telling me how disrespectful I had been, but nobody hears about the parts where she called me an irresponsible adult and ridiculed me for taking a job that didn’t make me that much. Nobody wants to hear my side of the story, the part where she was so grossly unsupportive. Then, I had to cancel on Cameron on Tuesday again because I’m so fucking tired and so fucking busy. She got mad at me and now we’re in this fight because I’ve neglected our friendship. I’m a shit friend, a shit daughter, a shit worker, and it’s so obvious I’m a shit girlfriend. I can’t fucking do anything right.”

By the end of her rant, she was breathless and Lando could see she was talking herself into an anxiety attack. Her hurtful words toward herself needed to be dealt with, but he needed to stop the panic seeping into her skin.

He took her hand and kissed her head, “Come with me, my love.”

She kept crying as he led her to his car, his arm wrapped around her body securely as he whispered words of reassurance in her ear. He reminded her of how strong she was, of how much he loved her and admired her for everything she was. How wrong she was about everything she had convinced herself of.

When he softly laid her in the passenger seat, he kneeled down and kissed her shoulder, brushing her hair off the skin lightly. He looked up at her with deep green eyes filled with safety, “Don’t listen to your mind right now, baby. It’s only telling you lies.”

He lightly closed the door, running around the car to slip into the driver’s seat. When he turned the engine on, his hand settled on her thigh and began rubbing softly. He backed down and drove down the road, toward a small park at the end of her street. It was quick, maybe a minute or two, and Y/n was still crying when they parked, but it subsided momentarily when she saw where they were.

“Why are we at the park?” Lando grabbed her hand and kissed the knuckles.

He laid his cheek down on the back of her palm, murmuring, “Because it’ll be fun to be kids for right now. Not have to think about what you’re going through. We can address that later.”

A sigh of relief left her chest. The moment he had given her an opportunity to run away from it all, even for a few minutes, she almost began to feel as though she would find peace.

He always knew exactly what to do.

She gathered herself, wiping away the tears and smoothing down her hair as Lando walked back to her door, opening it and offering his hand as help for her to get out of the car. She took it. She always would. The cold air hit her body and she shivered. Lando was immediate in offering her his coat.

She shook her head, “No, I’m okay for right now.” She was just now realizing how she hadn’t gone outside in days. The cold air made her feel alive again.

Lando’s hand continued to clutch hers as they took steps toward the large structure. When she let go of his, he tensed, but he relaxed when he saw her wandering over to the slides.

She climbed up the ladder, him following behind, and found herself sat in the entryway of the whirling slide.

“Wait, wait!” Lando yelped before she could push herself down. Her head whipped around to meet his eyes.

She smiled and her body warmed when his found a seat behind her, his body consuming her and his hands wrapping around the low point of her waist. His ear right beside her ear, he kissed the top of the skin, “Now, you can go. We can go down faster, no? Seeing as I go fast for a living.”

His questionable logic made her laugh before he was pushing them off and the two were turning fast around the corner of the yellow tube. Her giggling ensued with the way he jostled them around on purpose to make the slide more exhilarating for two twenty-four year olds. And in the heat of the moment, seeing her hair float in the air and a carefree smile on her face, Lando wished she could see herself the way he did. She was superb, unbelievable. She held the strength and courage of someone so commendable. She was kind even when she had seen things and experienced trauma so young that should’ve, understandably so, made her bitter. She was merciful even when she shouldn’t be and she loved Lando in a way he had only ever dreamed of. The way she treated him, the gentleness she approached him with, was something he knew he could never let go of. She was beautiful in so many other ways than just her appearance. She was deeply beautiful and he wished she could just understand that.

When they reached the end, their bodies stopping abruptly right at the edge, Y/n laid her head back against his shoulder. He kissed her temple, “Fun?”

She nodded with a smile, “Somehow, you did make it faster.”

He shot her a look, as if to question why she didn’t believe him in the first place. He pushed her off him, sprinting to the swings and screaming for her to follow him.

“Lando! Be quiet! You’ll wake up the entire neighborhood!” She whisper-yelled at him, laughing as she ran after him.

He threw himself in the seat and began swinging his legs, no doubt gaining momentum but beckoning her over for help nonetheless.

She stood behind him, bracing herself firmly on the ground as she pushed his heavy body up off the ground. When he would meet her back on the ground, he’d lean back so his back would almost come crashing into her front. It made her laugh.

“Lando!” He couldn’t see her, but he knew how radiant she must’ve been looking. Even in his head, he continued to fall in love with her.

She kept pushing him until her arms got tired and she flopped away from him, onto the ground, in a heap of heavy breaths. When he didn’t feel her small hands on his back anymore, he jumped off the swing and joined her on the ground.

It didn’t matter how cold it was or how dirty it inevitably was, they were together and Y/n’s smile lingered on her pretty face.

Lando’s hand laced with hers in between their bodies as he softly whispered, “You’re not a shit daughter, your parents don’t know what they have and they’re too emotionally immature to realize that. You’re not a shit friend, Cameron knows that, you’re just struggling and that’s okay. You’re not a shit worker, you’re actually heavily valuable to your boss and the people around you. They’ve all told you that. And Y/n, look at me,” She turned her head to meet his meaningful ones, “You are not a shit girlfriend. You are the complete opposite. You are everything I’ve ever wanted and could ever ask for. You have no idea how in love with you I am. It’s even hard for me to understand sometimes. There is no one I have ever loved, love, or will love more than you. You are the most important thing to me, so please stop talking about yourself in this way and believing in something that has never been true.”

Everything about the moment is gentle. From the way his thumb caressed her skin to the enunciation of every word that came from his mouth, he made it clear how much love prospers for her within him every day and every minute.

She turned on her side and took his cheek in her hand, “Thank you for helping me, Lan.”

His hand squeezed her waist, “Of course, my love. You’re my favorite.”

She felt her heart blush, if that’s even possible. Maybe her face was the one blushing? She didn’t know. The way Lando looked at her as if she started life itself made her mind feel fuzzy.

Fuzzy enough to realize he was right. She wasn’t a failure or a horrible person. She was a human who made mistakes and many people loved her in spite of it. Lando being one of them.

He loved her in a way she had always craved. She both needed and wanted him. So did he. They were the beginning and end of everything for the other. It showed well that night as they held each other on the concrete of that park. It showed well because, at one am on a random Saturday, Lando had dropped everything he has doing the moment he heard the anguish in her voice. It showed well because Lando’s clear words made Y/n realize he wanted her and no one else. There was no one else like her, no one to ever replace her. Not that he would ever want that anyway. She was completely unique in the most precious way and maybe… just maybe… she was beginning to realize that too.

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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

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yandere! vox with fem!reader scenario

Warning: obsessive behavior, implied violence, stalking, implied emotional and physical abuse, brief mention of toxic relationship [vox/val], implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 show and the Hazbin Hotel comics.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only flat-screened overlord, Vox! Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice and @lbcreations-blog for helping me shape up the rough draft of this piece, I can't wait until I get enough time off from work to watch this series! :)

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's go live with Vox's broadcast!

The overlord of technology has been in an on-off relationship with Valentino for a while, so any affection Vox has received from the egotistical prick is either a ploy to get him to do whatever he wanted or that the owner of the Porn Studios was in the mood to play the role of a lover before he got bored again. He had a brand and reputation to uphold in Hell, so any word about him and Val being together is kept under tight wraps. No one knows about it except maybe Velvette. God knows how many times the moth demon had wreaked havoc in the fashion designer’s office on the way to his own quarters, red smoke and all.

Of course the one tantrum when the television demon decided to not fight back and just dump Val’s ass because he was sick and tired of the bullshit, it had to happen a week until Velvette’s new clothing line was about to go live. So of course he, the most level-headed one of the Three Vs and the one responsible for the mess, had to clean it up. Yeah, just another fucking day with Val. Fuck his life.

Anyway, he’s a very busy man managing the other V’s social media networks including his own workload in his own studio. Considering that he’s now single again (at least for the moment), he saw no reason to get involved with anyone else right now unless it was to relieve some of his frustrations…privately. Late one evening and on his third cup of coffee, Vox was going through the applications that responded to Velvette’s newest job post. Same occupation, same shitty pay, but every designer and seamstress in the Pride Ring wanted to work with Hell’s queen of fashion. He was just weeding out the applicants who did not have what his associate wanted in an employee. And he’s doing it because he owed a favor, not because he can’t sleep. That was when Vox saw your resume.

He skimmed through it, raising an eyebrow in slight interest. It seemed a little embellished…but the credentials were there, at least from what he could see. And you were good-looking, so that is a bonus too. Shrugging his shoulders, he swiped his hand to the right, sending the document to the small electronic pile of Maybe and moved on to the next one. That one immediately got sent to the Rejection pile.

A few weeks later, he saw you working in Velvette’s studio through the cameras, hunched over a desk and so entirely focused on a sketchpad that you paid no mind to her chewing out to the other designers about their shitty designs for the next collection.

“You! New Girl!”

Her peevish voice addressing you was what brought you out of your reverie. Straightening your spine, you turned to her and quickly strode to her. You must have known what she wanted, because you gave her the sketchpad. Velvette flipped through it, eyeing the pages critically until her bloodshot eyes widened in delight, tapping a manicured black nail against it rapidly before dragging you to a mannequin, barking at you to start creating whatever caught her attention. And it was rare for Velvette to be pleased with anyone else’s works except her own. Her creativity is what kept her clothing line at the pinnacle of fashion. You were getting more and more interesting as he began to watch you more throughout the day. Discreetly, of course. Vox would be damned if his associate found out that he’s eyeing one of her employees.

He saw how dedicated you were to your work, how you thrived under pressure from Velvette instead of crumbling from it and that was when your creativity blossomed into its full potential. But what he admired about you the most is that you were always calm. You never raised your voice at anyone. You always looked at a problem as if you were dissecting it before making a move. Creative thinkers took risks, and so did you.

But he’s not looking for a relationship. He wants to focus on his work. He wants to make his business thrive and crush any competition who would dare to try and get one up over him. He is annoyed as fuck that you’ve caught his attention and hasn’t done anything to make him want to stop looking at you. Why won’t you leave his mind? Why is he constantly looking through your social media accounts to see what you’re up to and if there is anyone else in your life? Why?

Because he’s fucked. Fuck his life.

Vox believes that he is the brains behind the Three Vs’ success and how they could not have made it this far without his technology and other businesses. But the truth is that this overlord, the one who commanded over electronics, can be emotionally immature if he is pushed too far. You saw how he acted when Alastor made his comeback, right? If you did, well, you now know that his buttons can be pushed if he isn’t seen or acknowledged by someone. And if you were to ignore him as the Radio Demon did…you better run.

Because if there is a screen or a camera, he will use it to find you no matter where you are in Hell. There is no doubt that he will jump out of it with a static pop, begging you to give him a chance to prove himself with fat, watery tears falling down his flat-screen face.

He is an overlord, one of the Three Vs. He is good-looking, charming, a manipulator, a liar, he could use his powers to hypnotize into submission if he really wanted to and runs a successful business. What more could you possibly want when he is obviously the best choice to have as a lover in Hell? Can’t you see? You belong to him!

Taglist

@doc-tooth

@lbcreations-blog

@nixie-writes

@imperfectbloodmoon

@chroniccorvus

@angelltheninth

@hellbornediamonddreams

@riddle-simp

@blackmageoffandoms

@tired-of-life-86

@frenchtoastmafia

@lanxianschoenheit

@riotakire

@quintillion4

If you would like to be tagged in future yandere hazbin x reader fics, please comment on this post here. If you do not comment, then you will not be added on the taglist.

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wordstome · 3 months

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how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

youtube

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

#anti ai #cod fanfiction #c.ai #character ai #c.ai bot #c.ai chats #fanfiction #fanfiction writing #writing #writing fanfiction #on writing #fuck ai #ai is theft #call of duty #cod #long post #I'm not putting any of this under a readmore #Youtube

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 months

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illicit affairs

Summary: Stranded in an airport hotel because of hurricane warning, you snatch the last hotel room for the following two nights, not knowing that these two nights would change your life forever. You meet Joel and spend every moment you can with him until he leaves you in the middle of the night the day you both had to go back home. Months later, heartbroken and pregnant from a man you hadn’t even exchanged last names with, you go back to your hometown to meet your mother’s new boyfriend, not knowing it’s Joel.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader // Joel Miller x fem. readers mother

Wordcount: 6.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: no outbreak AU, meet cute, age gap (around twenty years, but it’s not specified) flirting, kissing, smut (oral f receiving, protected sex, unprotected sex, so much sex) accidental pregnancy, angst, vomiting, fluff, heartbreak

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic that turned into a little beast

illicit affairs master list // Pedro Masterlist

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You weren’t particularly looking forward to the next three days.

Not that you didn’t love your mother. You were happy for her. After your father died almost eight years ago she deserved to be happy again. To be loved by someone.

You just had a weird feeling about this trip, and you couldn’t say exactly why.

You had moved back to Austin for a couple of months after your father died. You had been between jobs and while you did not particularly enjoy the summer heat of Texas, or living in your childhood room, you were glad you had been there for your mother.

You only took the job that had been offered you in Seattle because she told you that it was time. That she was okay. That it was time to live your life. You only left because you knew your brother Sean was moving back to Austin to start his new job in the weeks after you left.

„Have you met her new man yet?“ You asked Sean as you sat in the passenger seat of his car.

Thankfully he had offered his guest bedroom for your three day stay. Not that you wouldn’t like staying with your mom, but you were pretty sure you could not hide the fact that you had gotten pregnant from a stranger four months ago from her, when you would be staying with her 24/7.

Your brother was a bit more… oblivious.

You weren’t showing yet, and even though you knew you had to tell your family at some point, you weren’t ready to do it right now.

You wondered when you were ready to tell them, but that was a problem for next week you, who could lock herself into her apartment back home in Seattle.

Of course you knew this wouldn’t just go away, but additionally to the fact that you had gotten pregnant, you had no way of contacting the father, leaving you as a single mom.

You only knew his first name. You didn’t get a chance to learn more about him.

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall against the window of Sean’s car.

„I haven’t met him. I only know he has a Construction company with his brother. That’s how mom and him met,“ he said. You nodded.

„She seems happy. I hope he’s nice,“ you sighed.

„What about you? Someone in your life I need to have a big brother talk with?“ He asked and you scoffed.

„I found out that all men are assholes,“ you rolled your eyes and Sean laughed.

„Could have told you that before,“ he grinned and you punched his arm and he winced with a dramatic ouch.

„Anyway. No men. Might get a cat,“ and a baby you added in your head.

„I’m allergic to cats,“ he reminded you.

„Remind me how that is my problem?“

It was a nice neighbourhood Sean drove his car through, looking for the address your mother gave you. It was a typical suburban neighbourhood.

Kids playing on the front lawn.

A men washing his car.

Women who took care of the little garden that wasn’t burnt by the sun yet.

Fuck, you forgot how hot Texas was during the summer.

„Here we are,“ Sean hummed and you followed his gaze as he parked the car in the driveway of a two story home behind a black pick up truck. Your mothers Honda was standing parked next to it.

You gave yourself a moment to gather your thoughts while you looked at the house.

It was a nice house. You could see that someone was keeping it maintained and loved. There was a big tree with a swing outside and you wondered if the man had kids too. Before you could look closer at the house the front door opened and your mother stepped out, a big smile on her face.

„Here goes nothing,“ Sean said and you shook your head with a small smile before you opened the door.

Arms were wrapped around you almost the moment you stepped out of the car, your mother pulling you in a tight hug.

„My baby,“ she whispered against your ear and you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

„Hi mom,“ you said, suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions as you fought down the tears. She kissed your cheek before she looked at you with a warm smile.

„I missed you,“ she said.

„Missed you too,“ you mumbled and she squeezed you softly.

„What about me?“ Sean interrupted and you rolled your eyes.

„What about you?“ Your mother asked with a grin.

„Didn’t you miss your son?“ He poured and you shook your head with a laugh.

„I saw you yesterday. I brought you and John leftover lasagna,“ your mother reminded him and he shrugged before he hugged her too.

You took a moment to look around the neighbourhood when you heard the door behind you open again.

„Come on. Joel has been grilling steaks in the backyard. They’re to die for,“ your mother said and you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes as you heard the name.

The last time you heard it, it was you who said it, moaned it. He had you pressed against the mattress, thrusting deeply into you, whispering filth into your ear…

You shook your head. Not the time.

„Kids, I want you to meet Joel Miller,“ your mother took your hand and you turned around with a welcoming smile that froze as your eyes landed on the man in front of you. Dark familiar brown eyes finding yours. His eyes widened for a second before he looked away from you, holding his hand out for your brother to shake.

You blinked your eyes a couple times, trying to make him disappear. It couldn’t be him. There was no way that this was….

Your mothers arm sneaked around his waist, his arm around her shoulders. You saw him take a deep breath before he turned his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to shake.

„And this is my daughter,“ your mother introduced you with your name and you were hoping that whatever you were feeling right now was not showing on your face.

As if on autopilot you pulled your hand up to meet his, your whole body reacting to his touch as his hand squeezed yours, fighting down the thoughts of how this hand touched you the last time you were close to each other.

„Nice to meet you,“ he said and you gulped, meeting his eyes.

„Nice to meet you too, Joel.“

Five-ish months earlier

It was pure luck that you got a hotel room for the night. Your flight back home to Seattle had been canceled due to a hurricane warning and you had rushed to the first airport hotel in Phoenix, the airport you had been stranded on on your way back from New York.

Of course you had no idea some kind of construction job fair networking event thing was held at exactly this hotel for the whole weekend. Though it did explain the price of the room.

You ignored the absurd price tag to the last room you were able to get, making your way with the keycard in hand towards the elevator that would bring you to the 11th floor where you room was.

Waiting in front of the elevator you let your eyes wander through the impressive foyer before the doors of the elevator in front of you opened. You gripped your suitcase before you looked up again, meeting the eyes of the man who was stepping out of the elevator.

He gave you a small smile, holding the elevator for you, as he stepped out.

You swallowed slowly, giving him a thankful smile, walking past him into the elevator. Your eyes slipped close as you smelled his aftershave, your back turned towards him before you turned around, facing him. He was still standing in front of you. He was taller than you, dressed completely in black, dark jeans with a black dress shirt tucked into his pants. The first buttons of his shirt were opened, the sleeves rolled back over his tanned muscular forearms, the ends of a black tattoo just so visible on his arm, making you wonder what exactly it was.

He was by all means one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life.

And at least twenty years older than you.

There was an amused smile on his lips as as your eyes finally landed on his, having of course noticed you checking him out.

You felt your cheeks warming as his dark eyes looked at you.

„Thank you,“ you blurted out and he raised his eyebrows.

„For holding the elevator,“ you clarified, feeling stupid. So fucking stupid.

You took a deep breath, which was a dumb idea because he and his aftershave had been in this elevator before and it was mouthwatering. Raising your hand you pushed the button for the eleventh floor.

„You’re welcome,“ he said and fuck, even his voice was sexy.

He was about to say more when someone clapped on his shoulder.

"Come on Joel. Let’s get some drinks,“ a man said to, dressed similar.

The last thing you saw from the man you know knew was named Joel were his eyes on you, winking, as the elevator closed.

While your initial plain consisted of ordering room service and watching the Bachelor until you fell asleep, one phone call with your best friend after making it to the hotel room left you getting your little black dress out (well not so little, but it was one of the nicer dresses you owned) and putting some light make up on.

You couldn’t exactly explain what it was that you were doing, but deep down you knew you would regret not going down to the bar and maybe finding that man, Joel, again. Even if you would only look at him from afar like a creepy stalker.

You never made the first step and your best friend made the very logical point that if you embarrassed yourself for some reason, you would never see the man again.

Nervously talking a last look into the mirror you walked out of the bathroom, switching the lights off.

Sitting down on your bed you took a deep breath.

What were you doing?

You did not know this man. You haven’t even really talked to him. He was older than you. And probably married. Or a serial killer. Not that you had a chance with someone who looked like that. You would probably humiliate yourself, chasing after some guy who was just trying to be nice to a stranger.

„Why am I like this?“ You whined, letting yourself fall back against the bed.

Closing your eyes you tried to relax.

You could do this. You never went for what you wanted. And you wanted him.

„One drink,“ you said to yourself before you got up from the bed, got your heels on and walked out of your room.

You had just gotten your first drink when you felt someone sit down next to you. A shy smile sneaked onto your face, because before you had even looked at the man sitting next to you, you had smelled his aftershave.

He was already looking at you when you finally turned towards him.

„Mind if I sit here?“ He asked and your smile widened.

„Not at all,“ you said.

„Joel,“ you gasped, your head falling back against the door of your room he had pressed you against.

Not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine this outcome when you decided to get down to the bar. You didn’t even think he was really interested. But the more you talked, the closer you got. His warmth against your side as your feet ran up his thigh when he told you about his work. About his life.

About how he hasn’t stopped thinking about what you might look like when you came.

„So fucking pretty,“ he hummed before his lips crashed down on yours. One of his hands pinning your arms over your head against the door while his other hand pushed your skirt slowly up, his fingers running up your thigh.

„Fuck,“ you moaned, your legs already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you really yet.

His lips wandered down your throat and you could feel him smile against your skin, his teeth carefully nibbling at your skin as his hand slipped between your legs, finding your drenched.

„You gonna let me eat this pussy?“ He hummed and you groaned.

„Please,“ you gasped. He chuckled, his finger slowly pushing your panties aside.

„Bet you taste delicious,“ he grinned before his head dipped between your breasts. He kissed the top of them, inhaling deeply.

„Smell so fucking good,“ he hummed. He let go of his grip around your wrist but you kept them up.

„Good girl,“ he hummed and kissed you.

„Want you to get naked for me and lay down on your bed, can you do that for me?“ he asked. You licked your lips, nodding your head.

You hooked your fingers into the straps of your dress, slowly pushing them down your shoulder, Joel’s dark eyes following your every move. His finger still slowly swiping through your pussy.

Reaching around you unhooked your bra, your eyes on him, slipping it down your arms, letting it fall to the ground.

His jaw tensed, his eyes taking you in.

He took a step back from you, his touch leaving you and you slipped your dress down your body, your panties too.

Stepping out of them you walked slowly towards the bed, getting out of your heels but he stopped you.

„Keep them on,“ he grunted and you nodded with a small grin.

Walking past him towards your bed your sat down, slipping back until you were sitting in the middle of the bed, completely naked, safe for your heels.

„So fucking pretty,“ Joel said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe he was here right now. You let your eyes wander down his broad body, your mouth salivating when you noticed the prominent outline of his cock through his dark jeans.

„Spread those legs for me,“ he said and you tilted your head up to look into his eyes.

The way he looked at you made you feel incredibly sexy, confident, powerful.

Slowly you angled your legs, letting them fall open for him.

He sucked his bottom lip in, just look at your pussy that was so wet you were sure you were dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

„God fucking damn,“ he groaned and slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

Your greedy eyes took in every inch of skin he revealed to your eyes, dying to run your hands and tongue over his broad chest. He carefully slipped his shirt from his upper body, taking great care to hang it over the back of a chair.

When he turned back towards you, seeing your amused expression he shrugged.

„Need to wear that again tomorrow. Can’t have your pussy all over it,“ he explained nonchalantly.

„On my face on the other hand….“ he winked before he slowly joined you on the bed, laying down on his chest right between your legs.

His lips kissed up your inner thigh, his beard deliciously scratching over your skin the closer he got to where you were dripping for him.

Your eyes followed his every move, his dark eyes fixed on you as you saw his lip part, leaning in. You felt his tongue dip into your slit, licking up, teasing your clit all while he moaned as if he just tasted heaven.

„Fucking knew it,“ he groaned. His arms slipped around your upper thighs, pulling you against his mouth, before dove in. Driving you positively insane with his wicked tongue as he slowly but surely brought you to what you would later would find out, first orgasm of the night.

Your fingers were wrapped around the soft strands of his hair as he held you down, licking into you until you came undone, crying out in pleasure as your orgasm left you gasping for air.

He cleaned you with his tongue, carefully, as you tried to normalise your breathing and heart rate. When he was finished he just looked up at you, his cheek resting on your thigh, his chin glistening with you.

„Better than I imagined,“ he whispered, kissing your thigh.

„Huh?“ You asked confused.

He grinned.

„Your face when you cum,“ he winked and you flushed, warmth spreading over your whole body.

Sitting yourself up you reached for him, pulling him up until he was laying on top of you, your hands in his hair as you pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply. You wrapped your legs around his back, wanting him closer.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue dipping into your mouth.

„I want you to fuck me,“ you whispered against his lips.

„I intend to. As often as you let me,“ he hummed back, kissing you again.

He grabbed a pillow when he parted from you, pushing it under your hips before he got up from the bed, getting out of his jeans and boxers. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you saw his cock for the first time.

Dying to have him inside of you but….

„Joel,“ you said softly and he looked at you.

„It’s been some time…. Years and I…“ you suddenly felt shy, not knowing how to carry on.

He grabbed something before he slowly sat down on the bed. He came to rest on his side, right next to you.

„We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,“ he promised, his hand on your cheek. You turned to your side, looking at him.

„I want to. I just want you to know that it’s been a while and well… you’re fucking huge,“ you shrugged with a awkward laugh. He chuckled, his fingers on your chin tilting it up, so you had to look at him.

„You may be surprised, but I don’t do this often either,“ he said and while your first reaction was to scoff and not believe him, his expression remained honest and open and you believed him.

Slowly your brought one of your hands up to rest on his warm chest, right against his heart feeling it beat.

„Okay,“ you whispered and leaned in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him as he kissed you. One of his legs came between yours, his thigh meeting your pussy, making you gasp.

You just kissed for a while, touching, getting familiar with each other before he slowly turned you so you were back to laying on your back, him hovering over you.

He parted form your lips, reaching for a condom and you realised that this must have been what he grabbed earlier. He gave you a sheepish smile as he ripped the package open, sitting himself up so he could slip the condom on.

„Thought you might get lucky huh?“ You teased and he grinned.

„Hoped,“ he clarified, lining himself up the tip of his cock slipping into you without any resistance.

„For the record, I have an IUD,“ you said and his eyes darkened but he shrugged his shoulders.

„Better safe than sorry,“ he winked before he slowly sank into you.

Sex with Joel was not like anything you ever experienced before.

He watched your face for any expression, slowing down when he noticed discomfort. He took his time learning what you liked, his sole goal for when he was in your room being your pleasure.

He told you that he was here for this construction congress thing, but whenever he did not have to work or shake hands he was with you.

You didn’t talk about what you were doing. You were living in the moment, not thinking of what would happen once Monday came and you both had to leave this hotel and get back into your life’s.

He only had made one rule.

Not to catch any feelings.

Which you thought you could do.

But he was just so… fucking perfect. At least the version of him you got to spend time with.

It was not even the sex, which was positively mind-blowing, mind you. It was the moments after when he held you and told you about his hobbies. About his company. About his life. Always keeping it vague, never saying anything about where he was from.

Much like you.

On Saturday morning before he had to go to get to a meeting he had you in the shower, your body pressed against the shower wall as he fucked into your from behind, hard, leaving you to moan so loudly when you came that you were sure you would get a noise complaint.

It was the only time he fucked you without a condom and came inside of you.

You never had this much sex and it had never ever been this good before.

Maybe it was because he was older, maybe it was because there was something more….

You hadn’t talked about an after.

After the sex.

After falling asleep in each others arms.

After the conference.

You didn’t have a chance to talk about a potential after when you woke up Monday morning at 3:22 am, finding the bed next to you cold.

At first you thought he was in the bathroom but after a couple of minutes and no sound coming from the room, you sat yourself up, turning the lamp on the bedside table on.

You could still feel his cum that had dried on your stomach hours before, when you found a note from him on the bedside table that said

Thank you

Two months later you found out you were pregnant.

Now

He has been ignoring you.

Which was making you even angrier, because you did nothing wrong.

You were sitting with your mother on the backyard patio enjoying some iced tea, watching your brother and Joel at the grill.

You had learned all the important stuff about Joel from your mother in the last ten minutes.

He was forty five, six years younger than your mom, but still much older than you. He had a daughter whose name was Sarah. She was twenty seven, living in Dallas and working as a doctor, about to be married next spring.

You were just nodding along, frankly overwhelmed with the situation.

You had sex with your mothers boyfriend.

Yes, you didn’t know it back then, and you had verified with your mother when they met each other, they only started dating after that weekend you had spend with him.

But you had slept with him.

You were pregnant from him.

You were pregnant with your mothers boyfriends child.

„Are you okay?“ You mother asked. You almost jumped, your ice tea spilling a little.

„Sorry. A little tired. Work is busy,“ you lied.

„I’m so proud of you baby. My little girl is going places,“ she smiled and you smiled back. Thankfully your brother sat down next to her, involving her in a conversation. It gave you the chance to sneak away into the house to find the bathroom.

You walked by a wall of pictures. Joel was in many of them and the man you had seen back in Phoenix was there too.

You smiled when you saw a younger version of Joel next to a girl that looked so much like him. You saw her grow up through the pictures on the wall. You could see that Joel was a proud dad. Always next to her at the milestones of her life.

For some reason it made you tear up, your hand coming to rest over your stomach, the bump barely there.

Your child would never have this.

They would never have a loving father who was there every single day, for every milestone in their life.

You couldn’t do that to your mother. She was clearly in love with him.

But maybe you were in love with him too.

No man had made you feel like Joel did before. Yes you had some relationships, even one where you could see yourself getting married before it ended.

But Joel….

The things he made you feel in that hotel room were like nothing you had ever felt before. And not just sexually. You felt safe with him. You felt comfortable with him, even when you were both quiet and just enjoying the moment.

You thought it was just a stupid crush at first. Because of the way you met and how it ended.

You couldn’t fall in love with someone you had only known for three days, right?

But against all odds you did, and you had made your peace with it.

You could even understand him leaving you in the middle of the night.

He had told you that he was single and not married. And you believed him. You were much younger than him, which would make this… thing between the two of you most likely not have a future anyway. And long distance was not something that was easy.

You made every excuse in the books for him.

But standing here in his house, looking at his life, all you felt was sadness.

Sadness over what you wouldn’t have.

Why did it have to be him?

„Your mother and your brother left to get ice cream for dessert,“ Joel’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t even heard him come in. Nodding you walked away from this wall of memories, to search for the bathroom your mother had shown your earlier.

You felt sick.

Joel called your name from behind but you shook your head, almost running, but not getting far when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist, making you stop.

„Joel, please…“ you whispered, your eyes closed, taking deep breaths.

„We have to talk. I…“

But you didn’t hear what he said next because the next hing you knew was you vomiting all over his shoes.

And then… nothing.

Your head was pounding when you came back to. You could hear voices as if they talked through cotton.

Groaning you brought your hand up, rubbing it over your temple.

Fuck.

You vomited all over Joel and then you….

You passed out?

One hand came to rest over your stomach, your eyes blinking open in panic.

Were you okay? Was your baby okay? What the fuck happened?

„Hey honey. Slow down. Joel said you passed out?“ You felt your mother take your hand. You were laying on the couch, wondering how you got there.

A million thoughts went through your head, but on the forefront was your worry about your baby. The baby no one knew about.

You were close to hyperventilating when you felt a hand on your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your spine, guiding you to take deep breaths, his voice soothing you almost instantly.

Your mother was still holding your hand, looking worriedly at you when you turned your head to look at Joel. He was so close you could smell him.

Tears sprang into your eyes as you looked away from him to your mom.

„I need to see a doctor,“ you whispered and your mother softly squeezed your hand, Joel’s hand on your back stopping.

„Are you in pain?“ She asked alarmed. You shook your head.

„No. But…“ you gulped, looking quickly to Joel before you looked back at your mother.

„I need to check if the baby is okay,“ you began to cry, your eyes closing, missing the reaction of the people kneeling next to you.

„Baby?“ Your mother asked. You sucked your bottom lip in, nodding slowly before your eyes opened.

You saw the tears in your mothers eyes, surprise clearly in her face before she leaned in and hugged you softly, kissing your cheek, your eyes meeting Joel’s whose eyes were fixed on you, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure something out.

He wasn’t stupid.

You told him that first night that it had been years since you had been with someone before him. You had no reason to lie to him, not that he knew that.

His eyes widened when you kept looking at him, clearly having made the math.

Your mother looked at you with a warm smile.

„You have to tell me everything. But lets get you to see a doctor first.“

Faith really must have a field day today with you.

Joel drove you and your mother to the next hospital, your brother having to leave to pick up his boyfriend from work. He made you promise to call once you knew everything was okay. He would be waiting for you at his place.

And now you were in the maternity wing, waiting for the doctor to come and make an ultrasound to check if everything was okay.

With Joel waiting with you in the room, as far away from you as he could be without leaving.

Your mother was trying to get in touch with your doctor back in Seattle, leaving Joel with you to wait.

Joel hadn’t said a single word to you since you left his house. You felt his eyes on you but you were stubbornly looking everywhere but at him.

This was not how you planned this.

Then again, you had never planned this situation, had you?

You thought you would never see Joel again. You were starting to make your peace with that fact. Not only having gotten pregnant by a man whose last name you didn’t even know, no but falling in love with the same man.

How could you have predicted that you would meet him again like that?

If you allowed yourself to dream about running into him again, it was definitely not while meeting him as your moms new boyfriend.

The door opened and you looked up, your eyes meeting Joels for a second before you saw an older woman walk in, a warm smile on her face.

„I read that you passed out today?“ She asked after she introduced herself.

„Yeah,“ you nodded.

She sat down on the chair next to the table you were laying on, looking through the file your mother had filled out for your while you had waited.

„Anything in particular happened before you passed out?“ She asked and your eyes briefly met Joels before you looked at her.

„Might be a combination of stress and the weather? I am not used to the heat anymore,“ you have her a shy smile.

She nodded at you, setting the file down.

„I can see that your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s not too bad yet. Let’s check on the baby, shall we?“ She asked and you nodded.

Your pulled your shirt up and she warned you softly that this would be a little cold as she put the gel onto your stomach. You winced a little and she winked at you before she reached for the wand.

„Is this dad?“ She asked you before she looked at Joel.

You looked at him for the first time then. Really looked at him. His whole body was tensed, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze on you, but it felt like he was looking through you.

Though his eyes did find yours when he heard the question, probably wondering what you would say.

And even if you would want to tell the truth, you had to talk to him first.

So you shook your head before you looked at the doctor again.

„Just a friend of my mom. She should be here any minute,“ you said and the doctor nodded.

It took a little while before the heartbeat of your child filled the room. You looked at the monitor, smiling relieved as you saw the little blob, your baby, on the screen.

„It looks like everything is just fine,“ the Doctor said and you shakily breathed out. She smiled softly at you, clicking some buttons on the machine and you just kept looking at your baby, oblivious to Joel having made his way over to you to take a closer look.

„You’re at 17 weeks and the little bean looks as healthy as it can be. I want you to take it a little easier. Make sure to take some breaks and if you’re not used to the heat, maybe stay indoors. Where is home?“ She asked

„Seattle,“ you said and she sighed.

„Too much rain for me. But I can understand why this all was a little much for you here. To be on the safe side, see your Doctor once you get back for a check up,“ she said. You nodded. Her head tilted up and you followed her gaze, surprised to find Joel standing next to you, his eyes fixed on the screen with an unreadable expression.

„Do you want me to print out a copy for your mom?“ The doctor asked. You nodded, your eyes still fixed on Joel.

„Can I get three copies maybe? My mom, me and…“ you gulped, „for the father?“ You looked away from Joel as his head turned to look at you.

The doctor smiled at you.

„Of course.“

And while she worked, the heartbeat of your baby still filling the empty room you allowed yourself to look at Joel who had tears in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your mother hadn’t stopped asking questions on the whole way back from the hospital.

„Why didn’t you tell me?“

„I would have eventually.“

„Do you have a boyfriend?“

„No.“

„Who is the father?“

„He’s not in the picture.“

„Why?“

„Because.“

You could feel Joel’s eyes on you the whole way back to your brother, your head stubbornly turned towards the window, watching the Austin Landscape fly by.

„Are you happy?“ Your mother asked as the truck parked in front of your brothers house.

It was a good question. Were you happy?

The situation was a mess. It was… straight out of a soap opera but much more complicated.

But apart from that? You becoming a mom?

„Yeah. I am happy,“ you answered.

„Then I am happy for you. Gosh, I’m gonna be a Grandma!“ She smiled and you chuckled.

„Yeah. You are.“

„Are you gonna move back here?“ She asked. You shook your head.

„I don’t think so. I like Seattle. I have all my friends there and my job,“ you looked at her. She had turned in her seat so she could look at you.

„I understand. And I don’t want to talk you into something, I know you have a great support system in Seattle. But… you have one here too. Sean would never say it, but he misses you deeply. And you know I would love to see you more,“ she reached over to squeeze your arms softly.

„Mom…“ you sighed.

„I know. I just wanted to say it,“ you looked away from her, looking at Joel for a moment who hadn’t said anything since leaving the hospital.

„I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry for all this mess today,“ you said.

„It’s perfectly fine. I’ll walk you to the door,“ your mother said, already getting out of the car, throwing the door closed behind her. You took a deep breath, still looking at Joel as you reached for the third copy of the sonogram, having written your phone number on the back of it.

Without saying a word, you put it face down on the armrest at the front seat before you got out of the car and walked to your brothers house.

You did not really expect Joel to call you, but you were still left disappointed.

Not that you could not understand him.

He was probably as overwhelmed with the whole situation as you were. But you wanted to talk to him. You had to talk to him. You had a long talk with your brother when you got to his place. You had told him about meeting this man while you were stranded at the airport and how you spend three days with him in your bed. You told him that the rule was to just live in the moment and enjoy the time you had together, but that it left you heartbroken when he just disappeared in the middle of the night, nowhere to be found.

You also told him that somehow even though you had an IUD and he used condoms every single time but that one time in the shower, that the man had still managed to get you pregnant.

Sean held you while you talked. His boyfriend John sitting across from you.

„Sounds to me like you fell for him,“ John said and you groaned.

„I know. So fucking stupid. How can you fall in love with a man you know nothing about?“ You whined.

„Well you may not know much about him. But you clearly clicked on some way. If he had been looking for a quick fuck, he would have left after the first time you had sex. But he came back to you. Probably until he had to leave himself. And you said he was older. Maybe he didn’t see a future,“ John said.

„Or maybe he was married,“ your brother grunted and you punched him lightly in the stomach.

„What? You don’t know for certain if he was,“ he argued.

You sat there in silence for a couple of minutes.

„You have no way of contacting the guy?“ Sean asked softly.

You could lie. But you wanted to tell someone, and you knew your brother would keep your secret if you asked him.

So you told him.

„I do now,“ you whispered.

„What do you mean?“ He asked.

„You gonna hate me,“ you closed your eyes, hiding against his chest.

„I can’t hate you. You’re my favourite little sister,“ he teased and you laughed quietly.

„I am your only sister,“ you reminded him and he shrugged.

You sucked your bottom lip in, nibbling on it.

„It was Joel,“ you whispered, feeling your brother tense next to you.

„I met him almost five months ago in Phoenix. It was before he even met mom,“ you sobbed quietly. His arms tightened around you and you felt him release a long breath.

„Well fuck. That’s….“ He began.

„A fucking mess?“ you helped.

„You could say that.“

A moment of quiet passed before John said.

„Did he say anything?“ John asked and you turned your head, resting your cheek on your brothers chest as you opened your eyes to look at his boyfriend.

„Didn’t really get the chance to talk. First I vomited all over him and then mom was always there. I…. Did sneak him my number. So… I hope he calls,“ you said.

„I can talk to him,“ your brother offered but you shook your head.

„If he doesn’t contact me, his message will be clear. And I have to move on somehow…“

„Do you think you can? Even if you stay in Seattle. Imagine him and mom stay together or get married. He’ll be around all the time. You would see him every time you come and visit.“

„I don’t know,“ you whispered.

Sean sighed.

„We gonna figure this out. But not today. It’s been a long day for you. Let’s get you to bed.“

Your mother came over for breakfast the next day, insisting to spend more time with you before you would leave.

She made excuses for Joel who had to go to work on a construction site. You didn’t really care.

You hadn’t slept the whole night, you just wanted to go home.

To erase the last twenty four hours and live in blissful denial.

It was afternoon when she left, promising to come and see you the next morning before your brother dropped you off at the airport.

And she did. With a gift basket for mothers to be, bringing tears to your eyes.

She made you promise to call more, hugging you goodbye when Sean said it was time to get you to the airport.

You left Austin on a 11am flight.

And Joel did not call.

#my fic #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Joel Miller #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

446 notes · View notes

reidbae · 11 months

Text

Ecstasy

summary: You’re always nervous around your professor, which he has taken note to, but had chosen not to speak on. It’s not until you come to his classroom late to turn in a missing assignment that he decides to ask you about it, and he’ll do anything for the answer.

warnings/mentions: dom!spencer x sub!reader, teacher x student relationship, tall x short, reader is 22+ and spencer is 32+, age gap, AFAB reader, use of Y/N in slowburn but pet names used during smut (sweetheart, baby, doll, honey, etc), degradation, praise, choking, fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, vaginal sex, office sex technically lol, literally just filth dude

wc: 4.4k

a/n: hey, i’m kit! i write a lot in my free time and i think it’s high time i made a tumblr. this is my first post and the first smut i’ve written in a while. this is partially slowburn but it’s MOSTLY smut. anyway, hope you enjoy and also know that i take requests!

You knocked on the classroom door before entering it, shutting it quietly behind you. “Professor Reid?” you called out, unsure if the intelligent doctor was even here so late.

He looked up from his desk, his nose previously buried in paperwork. He was no doubt grading assignments, and you felt a twinge of guilt for interrupting him.

You nervously cleared your throat, beginning to approach his desk. “I’m sorry for interrupting you. I- I know it’s late. I just have that missing essay you wanted me to make up?” you explained, holding out the essay that you had finished shortly before you got here.

You noticed Spencer’s eyes darting to your clothing, lingering there for a few moments as he seemed to be taking in the view of you. You’d pulled on the first thing you’d found in your closet, a skimpy red dress that was tugging forcefully against your body. Ultimately, however, Spencer didn’t say anything and cleared his throat, then accepted your paper from you.

He looked it over for a second, then spoke up. “This is a lot of work, Y/N. It only needed to be two pages,” he pointed out to you.

You began to sweat at that comment, gazing at him with an apprehensive expression. “I- I know, sir. I just wanted to make up for the fact that I’m turning it in late. I hope you won’t take points off,” you explained. He may have made your palms sweat, but you did still care heavily about your grades.

“I’m not going to,” he said with a soft smile, placing your essay down on his desk. “Your essay seems to be well written, as usual, from what I’ve read so far.”

You could feel your face heat up at his praise and you gently nodded. “Thank you. And thank you again for giving me an extension.”

He nodded, too. “You’re welcome. But I hope you’re aware that I won’t always be so understanding, Y/N. I was glad to give you an extension this time, but I won’t shy away from taking points off if this happens again. I want you to learn to be more punctual,” he sternly continued.

It was conversations like these that made you heavily aware that no matter what you felt, Spencer was still your professor, and he wasn’t afraid to remind you of that. Shyly, you nodded your head, becoming more nervous as the seconds went on. “I- I understand, Professor Reid. I promise that it won’t happen again,” you could barely stammer out, coherent sentences beginning to fail you.

He smiled up at you and gave you another respectful nod. “Good. Make sure you live up to that,” he said firmly.

Did he have to be so overly stern? “I will,” you simply returned. You weren’t really sure what to say at this point now that the reason you’d come here had been addressed. You took a shaky breath, then nodded in finality. “Well, um, I guess I’d better get going now. Again, sorry to disturb you so late, Professor. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you timidly told Spencer, turning on your feet and starting to walk towards the door.

Spencer’s husky voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “Can I ask you something, Y/N?” he asked you. Nervously, you turned back around, looking at him.

“What is it, sir?” you politely responded, giving him your best innocent smile.

“Why are you always so nervous around me?”

Your eyes widened as your cheeks flushed red, caught off guard by his sudden question. You knew that, at some point, he would confront you about your continued nervousness around him that had started the second he became your professor three months ago. You were awful at hiding it: You blush and sweat, you stutter and stammer, and you toy with your hands and hair when he talks to you. You couldn’t be blamed for your attractiveness to the handsome doctor, but, really, you wish you were better at burying it.

“N- nervous?” you responded, in a feeble attempt to sound clueless. “I- I’m not- What makes you say that, Professor?” you asked, knowing exactly why he was asking.

“You seem much more nervous and tense when you talk to me as opposed to when you talk to others. It’s something I’ve noticed since the beginning of the semester,” he explained to you, folding his hands atop his desk.

“Uh, well, you know,” you nervously laughed, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. “I’m just shy.” Yeah, right.

“You’re loud and exuberant around your other professors, along with your classmates. I’ve heard you laugh and joke with quite a few people. It seems like this nervous demeanor is only saved for me,” he pointed out, sounding completely convinced that he was correct in his observations. He paused for a brief moment before continuing on. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Your expression turned shocked at the fact that he could possibly think that anything he did would make anyone uncomfortable. “No, no, I swear, it’s not like that,” you mumbled shyly, shaking your head.

“Forgive me for thinking so, Y/N, but my words do hold some truth to them. You are aware of this behavior that you’ve constantly displayed towards me over the last few months, though, correct?” he asked. His words came out so fluently, as though he had been meaning to come to you about this for longer than you’d anticipated. In regards to how you were speaking at the moment, you wish you could say the same.

“S- Somewhat,” you admitted.

He looked more intrigued now that you had confirmed the fact that you were nervous around him. He leaned back in his chair now, hands in his lap as he stared up at you. “Then, tell me what it is that’s making you nervous. I’d like to clear up whatever it is.”

You immediately shook your head, eyes still averted from the brunette professor. “I- It’s nothing.”

“It’s not ‘nothing’ if you’re constantly stuttering when you talk to me, or fidgeting with your hands when I walk by your desk,” he said, his stern tone growing increasingly prominent with each word he said. “I want to know what’s going on, Y/N.”

“Nothing’s going on,” you instantly defended. You were not in the mood to blow your cover about this. Not today, and maybe not ever.

“Oh, really?” he asked you in return, cocking an eyebrow. “You just told me you know that your behavior has been odd over the last few months,” he sighed. He grabbed a pen on his desk, clicking it a few times before continuing. “You and I both know there’s something wrong. This issue will never be resolved if you don’t discuss it with me. I promise that it will be to your benefit.”

You couldn’t help but remain silent. If you spoke, you’d stutter, only further proving Spencer’s point. You didn’t shake your head or give any sign at all that you’d heard him.

At this, he sighed again, shaking his head from what you could see out of the corner of your eye. “Am I going to have to figure it out for myself?” he asked you in a genuine tone. His voice, you noticed, was notably lower than it was before.

You only rolled your eyes in response to that. The fact that he had asked why you were nervous was one thing, but the idea of him attempting to figure it out was much more daunting, and you weren’t looking forward to it.

“Don’t give me that, Y/N,” he demanded when you rolled your eyes, tone fierce. “If you can’t verbally tell me what’s going on, your body language will.“

“My body language has nothing to tell,” you tried to correct him, trembling hands finding your hair and messing with it anxiously, eyes still torn from Spencer’s.

“You seriously believe that?” he almost scoffed, shaking his head. “I teach you how to read this stuff. Your body language has nothing to tell? You mean your shaky hands, stuttering, and red face have nothing to tell? Or, what about the fact that your hands are tangled in your hair? Or, that you can’t even look at me?” he went on, and he didn’t stop there.

“Do you want me to list every possibility I can think of until you tell me why you’re so nervous?” he asked. There was no tone of joke in his words: You knew that he would do it, and he’d do it with pride, at that.

“No,” you told him, the first word you’d said since the beginning of his ramble.

“Are you sure? Maybe that’s what you need.” Maybe it was the hour or the context of the situation, but you could swear for a second that this sentence had some air of teasing to it.

“I- I don’t, Professor Reid,” you stammered out.

“Tell me something, Y/N. Why are you the only student I have who still calls me ‘Professor Reid?’” he questioned.

“It’s respectful,” you tried, but it sounded like bullshit even as the words left your tongue. Spencer wasn’t that far off your age. Every one of your classmates called him by his first name, as he had said he was comfortable with several times. But you knew that calling him by his first name would put him on the same level as you, and if you didn’t see him as your professor, you weren’t sure you’d be able to control yourself.

“I’ve said several times that it’s okay to call me Spencer. All of my students do, and some even call me ‘Reid,’ they’re that comfortable. Yet, you only use ‘Professor,’ ‘Professor Reid,’ and ‘sir’ to address me,” he went on. You slowly started to realize that he was profiling you, and you felt your face grow redder, already knowing the outcome: He would figure you out.

In hopes of making yourself seem clueless, you shrugged. He wasn’t buying it, and asked, “Does this have anything to do with your continued nervousness around me?”

“I- I’m not nervous,” you could barely manage to get out, let alone lie properly. Deflection was your last hope of getting Spencer to drop this topic, a hope that you were almost positive would not be worth hoping for.

“Look at me, then, Y/N.”

No. Immediately, no.

“If you’re so ‘not nervous’ around me like you say, then look at me. If you’re not anxious, or shy, you should have no problem doing so,” Spencer said in a confident tone.

“I- I can’t look at you,” you immediately returned. You wanted to, but given the context of this situation, you knew he’d easily get you to talk if you did.

“Why?” he asked, his tone one of pure and utter confusion. Because I’m afraid of what I’ll say if I do.

“I just can’t,” you repeated, rubbing your eyes.

He sighed again, sounding genuinely exasperated. “Do you need me to profile it out of you, Y/N? Because I have no trouble doing that,” he said sternly. “I want you to feel comfortable around me. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on with you.”

When you didn’t respond, he took a deep breath, tapping his fingers on his desk before standing up and continuing. You were really looking away now. The fact that he was at least five inches taller than you was not helping.

“You show common signs of tenseness when I’m around you, like a stiff jaw, sweating, shaking, and, above all, avoiding eye contact,” he started, and you scoffed. Fucking profilers.

“Your body language offers common tells of your continued nervousness around me, like touching your face, constantly fidgeting with your hands and hair, and turning red when I say your name.”

“Stop,” you managed to say, your face growing darker at his words. But he continued.

“You’re talkative and open with others, but closed off and shy with me. You talk with your hands during class but they find their way into your hair the second I’m in your presence,” he went on.

“Stop,” you tried again, your voice growing quieter and your singular word coming out in a low whisper.

“You’re my only student who seems to refuse to call me by my first name. You can present in my class without flash cards but are unable to form clear, coherent sentences around me-“

“For fuck’s sake, Spencer, I’m attracted to you!” you finally blurted, unable to take any more of this.

He stopped talking, looking at you as if he was physically unable to process what you had just said. “What?”

“I’m attracted to you,” you repeated again, finally looking up at him and now realizing how hard it would be. Your cheeks were clearly flushed red, and your body was trembling.

He chuckled for a second, then immediately stopped. “That’s what this is?” he asked you in disbelief, his tone evidently amused, as if this was something he heard on the daily basis. “Attraction?”

“Yes,” you returned.

“And it makes you this nervous to talk to me?” he asked you genuinely, but his voice still showed underlying tones of amusement.

“Yes.”

He thought for a moment, truly taking in your words. Then, a faint smirk danced across his face as he walked around his desk with his hands in his pockets, stopping a few feet away from you.

You refused to give him whatever satisfaction he seemed to be gaining by teasing you and looked away as he looked at you. He chuckled, stepping closer. “You’re nervous because of a little crush? Come on, Y/N. How old are you?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes again and remained silent.

“Look at me,” he said sternly, taking another step closer. There was now minimal distance between the two of you. It would be easy to lean and kiss him. What the hell is he doing to you?

All you did was shake your head. Absolutely not.

He reached out to cup your cheek, caressing his thumb over it as he looked down at you with a smirk, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye.

“You’re always so good in class. Be a good girl for me now, won’t you, Y/N?” he cooed, continuing to smooth his thumb over your face. You felt yourself growing redder by the second.

You shook your head, not at him, but at yourself for what you were about to do. You were too easy. You made eye contact with him, gazing lewdly up into his auburn eyes.

“That’s it,” he murmured. You were correct: He was smirking at you. He spoke up again. “Three months is a long time, sweetheart. How many fantasies have you had about me in that time?”

You blushed harder at that, stuttering out, “A lot.”

“Voice one to me,” Spencer continued in a raspy tone. His voice was riling you up, and you were almost unsure of how to answer. “What’s on your mind?”

“I- I’ve thought about-,” you tried, but you stopped, unsure if you should even speak the explicit fantasy that came to your mind first into the universe.

Noticing your hesitation, Spencer said, “You can say it, sweetheart. What have you thought about?” he demanded, although his words were almost sweet.

You took a breath of courage before replying, “A- About you, bending me over your desk,” you barely managed to stutter out.

He chuckled even further at your shy admission. “Doing what to you?” he asked in his teasing tone.

You let out a small frustrated groan. Isn’t it obvious?

“Fucking me.”

He gave you a flirty smile at your words. “What do you want, sweetheart?” he now asked you in a raspy tone, the distance between you becoming too hard to resist closing.

“To take you across this desk,” you openly admitted, finding it difficult to stare at his eyes when his lips were so close.

“Then do it.”

His words mixed with his proximity gave you the confidence to finally pull him in, wrapping your arms around his neck and fervently kissing him. To your surprise, he reciprocated instantly, roughly grabbing your waist and backing you into his desk.

He lifted you up with ease and sat you on the only part of it that wasn’t filled with papers, his lips never leaving yours as his tongue explored your mouth. After a few minutes, there was nowhere his hands hadn’t roamed, as he shamelessly grabbed your neck, cupped your tits, and squeezed your ass.

His fingers found their way under your dress, his cold hands meeting your warm skin. You shuddered at the contact, moaning surprisedly into your kiss. You could feel him tugging at the hem of your panties as he pulled back from you, breathing heavily.

“Professor,” you breathed out, calling him ‘Professor’ out of habit. He shook his head at you in response to it.

“Say my name,” he demanded of you, continuing his movements with his hand as he looked down at you.

“Sp- Spencer,” you stammered out, breath quickening at his dominant tone.

“Attagirl,” Spencer praised, hands dipping suddenly into your panties. You gasped, looking up at him with a sultry stare. His fingers slid in between your soaked folds and you involuntarily let out a whorish moan.

“Fuck, doll, you’re already this wet?” he asked you in a tone that was a mixture of both surprise and excitement as his fingers felt all of your built up arousal. “Is this all for me?”

You didn’t know what to say, in pure and utter shock that this was even happening.

He gave you a look that screamed both pleading and demanding at the same time. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he cooed, moving his fingers in no particular direction, which made you moan softly anyway.

“I- It’s all for you, Spencer,” you stammered.

“There you go. I like hearing that pretty voice of yours,” Spencer cooed. He buried a finger into your cunt, and you groaned at the sudden intrusion. He started slow, making sure you were comfortable with this sensation, then stuck another in, quickening his pace.

You arched your back as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot that you had never been able to reach when you were touching yourself alone. He knew exactly what he was doing, using another finger to rub slow circles around your clit. He pumped his fingers in and out fast, eliciting several moans of pleasure from you.

You leaned in to fiercely kiss him as he continued to finger you, sliding your tongue into his mouth. He accepted it gladly, gently choking you with his other hand as the two of you kissed. You groaned into it, his use of force getting you closer and closer to your high.

He pulled away, then started on your neck, kissing and sucking harshly as he continued to finger you below. His pace was getting faster, pushing his fingers deeper with every second that went by. When he curved them further than he had before, he found exactly where your pleasure point was: Your G-Spot.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you groaned out, your climax directly around the corner as he left kisses and no doubt hickies all over your neck.

He payed close attention to your reaction, making sure to continue to finger you directly where you needed him and continuing to rub your clit in quick motions. You were nearly there, and he surely knew that. However, suddenly, all movements ceased, and he pulled away from your neck to lustfully look down on you, retracting his fingers from your wetness.

You looked up at him with a mirroring lustful expression, but only because you were so close to releasing, and he had just taken that away from you.

“Sp- Spencer? Why’d you stop?” you stuttered out a little frustratedly.

“Because that’s not where I want you to finish,” he said, like it was the most simple thing to humanly comprehend. He backed up a step, then lifted you from his desk, spinning you round and bending you over it in one swift movement. You gasped as his hand found your lower back, his crotch pressed up on you and his bulge pressing into your ass.

“Spencer-“

“You said you saw me bending you over across my own desk, right?” Spencer reminded you in a low voice.

“Y- yeah,” you returned in a needy voice.

“Thought so.”

You could hear him unbuckling his belt from behind, working quickly to undo it with his only free hand. The sound was followed by that of his zipper, and then of him shrugging his pants partially down. He then turned his attention to you, pulling your dress up and revealing your red panties that matched the color of your dress. He chuckled, no doubt at that fact, then pulled them down.

He took his cock out of his boxers and pumped it up and down a few times. You tried to turn your head back to look, but he used his free hand to turn your head back around. You were about to say something about it, until he suddenly thrusted deep into your cunt, and you let out a whorish moan.

“F- Fuck, you’re so big, Spencer,” you couldn’t help but moan out. He was far inside of you, and his throbbing cock was no doubt seven inches minimum.

“You can take it,” he groaned back, placing his hand on the back of your head as he moved slowly but deeply into you. His hands roamed your body again, settling on your tits. He used a hand to grab one, eliciting a mewl from you. He fondled it with force, running his thumb in forceful circles around your tit as he pounded into you relentlessly.

“You like being fucked like this, sweetheart?” he cooed in your ear, voice audibly raspy as his movements didn’t cease.

“Yes, sir,” you responded in a slutty voice, calling him ‘sir’ for the first time in what felt like years.

“Such a, fuck- Slut for me,” he said in between thrusts. His pace was getting faster now as he rammed into you from behind, going at a speed you were finding difficult to not readily climax from. His words only enhanced this feeling.

He grabbed the back of your head by your hair, turning you to face a part of the classroom to your left.

“That’s where you sit in my class. Perfect view of my desk. Do you fantasize about this when you look at it?” he asked. His words came out in groans as he tried to both talk and maintain his quick pace.

“Maybe,” you breathed as you looked at your own desk where you had been sitting mere hours beforehand, never in a million years anticipating this.

“That’s not an answer,” he forcefully said, ceasing his movements and beginning to pull his cock from your cunt.

“Wait- Fuck,” you sighed, whimpering when you no longer felt him inside of you. “Yes, I do,” you admitted, telling him exactly what he wanted to hear.

He chuckled at your needy attempt to feel him inside of you again, teasing your wet entrance with the tip of his cock. “That desperate, huh?”

“Y- Yes, sir,” you said softly, finding it hard to get any words out as you took note of his teasing. He thrusted back into you, pushing hard and fast.

“Slut,” Spencer grunted. He pulled your head back by your hair, managing to grip it gently despite his rough pace. “My fucking slut.”

You moaned at his use of degradation, feeling your climax beginning to bubble up inside of you again, but you held it back, wanting to prolong the pleasurable feeling that you were receiving.

“Such a, fuck- Slutty dress,” he suddenly commented, toying with the hem on your dress. “Always wearin’ skirts hiked all the way up to your ass. Hoping I’d notice that, sweetheart?” he asked, the hand that was pulling your hair roaming over to your neck and choking you.

All you could do was nod as your words failed you, coherent sentences vacant in your head and absent from your mouth, as they usually were regardless.

“Use your words, baby,” he demanded of you, squeezing down harder on your neck.

You groaned out, complying and stammering, “Y- Yes,” in response to his question.

“That’s a good girl. Doin’ so fucking good for me,” Spencer praised you.

You were moaning loudly now, the sound of both of your grunts filling the air as Spencer continued at his quick speed. You could feel your eyes watering at the pressure and size of his cock that was deep into your cunt, and your climax was approaching as fast as his pace was going.

“Spencer,” you whispered, cheeks hot and absolutely flushed.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer groaned back.

“I’m close,” you breathed, words breaking.

He let out a soft moan at your words, then moved his hand away from your neck and down to your clit. He rubbed it in quick circles as he had done before, gladly helping you to reach your high. You bit your lip, loud moans and whines falling from your mouth.

“That’s it, doll. I want to hear you,” he demanded of you in response to your moans, his long fingers moving on your throbbing clit as fast as his cock was pounding into your cunt.

You happily complied, continuing to moan out as broken murmurs of his name fell from your lips. He let out his own moans as he chased his high, too. He used his free hand to grip your ass, holding you roughly as he groaned behind you.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Let it out,” he groaned.

His words pushed you over the threshold, being all you needed to finally moan out his name loud as waves of pleasure crashed through you. Spencer groaned out your name, too, as he finished inside of you, gripping your ass as roughly as he possibly could.

When you were both done, he pulled out, breathing heavily as he returned his cock to his boxers. You pulled your panties up and your dress back down, breathing heavily too as you looked back at Spencer with tousled hair.

Spencer stuck the two fingers he’d used to finger you into his mouth, sucking away whatever elements of your release he had managed to get on his hand. You let out a soft moan at the view as Spencer looked down on you. He moved his other hand on your waist.

“You taste sweet,” he whispered to you, caressing his thumb over your hip. Your legs were shaking, and, taking note of this, he picked you up and sat you on his desk. You smiled tiredly up at him as he did.

“I take it this means I’ll get a good grade on my essay?” you joked, giggling.

He smiled down at you, planting a sweet kiss onto your forehead. “A+, baby. A+.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

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saetoru · 4 months

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this blog is now archived !! find my MASTERLIST here !!

hi guys, and here’s a long overdue post that i wanted to take the time to make after collecting as many screenshots as i can for a lot of rumors that i think need to be addressed. before i do that, i wanted to apologize to all of my mutuals who ended up wrongfully harassed in their inboxes for simply knowing me—the irony of this issue being about bullying all the while people on this app have been simultaneously being genuinely awful to other writers who have zero involvement has been ridiculous.

i would’ve made this post sooner, but december was very busy—as you all know, i’ve been working with two separate companies for my capstone projects, and i had final presentations with boards to worry about. and then a cruise which was fun, but i was offline. now that i’ve finally had time to enjoy my break and collect my thoughts, i’d like to voice my own side to the discourse i’m sure you’ve all seen posted by @/garoujo, who is now @/gojoath.

first and foremost, i’ve been on tumblr for almost 4 years now, and while i may not have the brightest moments on here (no one will be spot-free in that amount of time), i’d like to think that if i actually went out of my way to vicious or bully people, this would’ve come to people’s attention a lot sooner. i’ve had a relatively large following across all 6 of my blogs in my time here, and while i don’t like to get into the metrics of my blogs, the reason i point this out is because i have willingly started my blog over 6 times. 3 of these were sfw blogs under my nickname tee, another 2 of which were my previous nsfw blogs under a different alias, and saetoru which is the current one, where i finally decided to combine my sfw and nsfw writing into one space. i just wanted to bring that up because i had quite a habit of leaving and restarting blogs before this one, and had i been obsessed with outperforming other writers in terms of follower counts, i would not have left the previous ones as often as i did.

that being said, i’ll also go through a timeline of events and how they’ve snowballed into an issue that is not as one-sided as most of you might think. i’ve been mutuals with emmie since my first blog, and i’d been mutuals with her through most of her blogs as well. we’ve never really had issues until her last blog @/garoujo, which she’d started after deactivating @/atsymu due to discourse regarding racism accusations. the reason why we had a falling out was because i felt that there were a series of odd coincidences that felt slightly purposeful, but i was still questioning whether or not i was looking too deeply into it to actually point any of it out.

admittedly, when i saw her first set of banners, i felt our layouts were a slight bit similar, but i really didn’t mind too much because i had been planning to change my banners anyway because i was bored of them. so i took that as an opportunity to do so. it just so happened that within a day or two of every time i changed my banners, hers would be changed too—i never said i owned the color gray, and i even fully acknowledge that the last two sets of banners, at first glance, wouldn’t be a red flag. because, like i said, i was more uncomfortable with the pattern of coincidences than the actual layouts. then i switched to my instagram theme, and not long after, i noticed her add instagram story visuals to her navi. again, no one ever said instagram was my original idea, and that no one else could use it, but it was an unsettling feeling having the same moot continuously make changes around the same time as you, and changes that are different enough that you can’t exactly point out an issue, but slightly similar enough that you can’t exactly ignore the slight oddness.

coincidentally, the same day, another blog (who i will not name bc they’re not very active anymore and are also not very relevant to this story) made the same theme as me and i was a bit peeved because this same blog is someone who has copied a few other things from me and a handful of other moots, so i made a subpost on my moots-only personal blog at the time. keep in mind, i made this post fully aware that emmie was on this blog because i didn’t intend for that post to seem like it was about her. but she reached out to me, and i explained to her the situation, and i even provided the relevant screenshots to show my points. i still considered her a decently good friend at the time, and even with the slightly off feelings, i was still adamant about brushing them off and considering them coincidences that perhaps i was being a bit too critical of.

it wasn’t until i woke up a few hours later after changing my theme and going to bed that i noticed she’d then fully switched to the insta theme. again, instagram is an app used by millions and, at one point, was a very popular theme used amongst most people on this app. i’m not entitled enough to believe i was the first person to do it, but like i said. there are just off vibes most of us will not help but feel when a series of coincidences continue to happen back to back to back by the same person.

there were, amongst these things, a number of other small touches that made me feel off. most of them i don’t remember by now or have screenshots of, so i won’t bother to go into all of them, but for reference, one example i’d also like to point out that i’d had the phrase “you’ve reached the hanmas” in my inbox when she was still on @/atsymu, and sometime after, her sfw blog @/loveatsu had the phrase “you’ve reached the miyas.” small things like this are not things i make an issue over and am more than capable of brushing aside, but like i have said and will continue to push firmly is that i felt there were multiple instances of emmie, in particular, making small tweaks to her blog shortly after me that made me feel were not all coincidentally similar. the issue was never themes or thinking i am the first or only person to do something a certain way, the issue has always been me countless times feeling that one particular individual is exhibiting a behavior that is persistent and uncomfortable no matter how minuscule the instances may be. maybe they were really just unfortunate coincidences that happened with poor timing, or maybe they weren’t. but i stand by the fact that anyone in my shoes would be valid to question the timing of each of these events over and over again.

i would also like to bring up kinktober (though this happened a while after the rest of what i will get into) because this was the first public discourse that emmie and i got into due to an anon’s claims of similarities between our posts. i had received an anon who told me “i think someone copied your kinktober masterlist” which i answered to ask if they could let me know who. they had come back to say it was garoujo, and i did not reply to the ask, instead, i made a post to vaguely tell the anon that i appreciate them letting me know, but i will just leave it be and continue on with my kinktober regardless of emmie’s mlist. i do think there were some vague similarities, but honestly not enough to really question it, so i figured a confrontation or issue was not necessary. a while later, several moots had messaged me to let me know they had received anonymous asks saying to “block @/garoujo she copied @/sakusins and she’ll copy you too” (or something along those lines, i don’t remember exactly.) i myself was very confused (and upset) by the situation because i did not, and still would not, want to be publicly name-dropped in other people’s inboxes over issues that do not involve them. unfortunately, it led to some not-very-kind asks to both of us, and while i am sorry she had to deal with that, it is not an apology from a sense of culpability. that situation was, and still is, entirely out of my control. i would not have seen the masterlist unless the anon had mentioned it, and i did not take part in having people send asks about her to other writers. especially not in a manner that was pretty much social suicide for me as well.

(this is a poorly made collage i know lol but i hit the picture limit bear with me here.)

i would also like to point out that i am not the only individual who has had issues with emmie and feels she had copied them. although i cannot disclose urls (they have been blocked out for privacy reasons) here are a few conversations i have had with my own mutuals, and i would wager there are more people whom i haven’t talked to who also feel this way. they might be small enough instances that sparking issues over them was not worth it to all of these people, therefore she has never heard from people herself about this issue, but the point does still stand that this claim about emmie is not one i alone make, and is one that i have heard countless times before. her never being approached by these individuals for the sake of peace doesn’t erase that they have been, and are, upset by these events, and it’s a habit that she seems to continually partake in. i would also like to link this post where she has been called out by another writer while she was still atsymu, which was posted while we were still friends. i’ve actually had a discussion with emmie about that post, and at the time, i had quickly skimmed the post and felt it was perhaps a reach, but after my own experiences, i went back to reread the post and considered perhaps there was validity to it, and that this might not be a one time occurrence. plagiarism in manners such as this will always have conflicting opinions, and it is hard to sometimes tell if something is a coincidence, a popular and overused idea, or something that has actually been copied. my point is that a number of people have all felt that perhaps there is a good chance this was not an accident, and please consider that so many instances of people feeling this way might suggest that there is a certain degree of validity to the claim.

at the beginning of all of this, when the masterlist banners had first started bothering me, i was upset, and i chose to vent to an ex-moot of mine who most of you would recognize as munsonsins. abby has deactivated a long while ago, but she’s relevant to this because i had chosen to vent to her at the time, and this is more or less what later caused this situation to escalate. at the time of venting to her, i knew she wasn’t mutuals with emmie because, as you can see, she’d told me as such.

one thing i would like to point out is that there were a handful of people i had vented to about my frustrations with emmie, but one thing i had always been mindful of was ensuring these were a) individuals who i considered close friends and not just random individuals, and b) were not friends or moots with emmie in the event that i accidentally made people who she cared about think lesser of her. had abby been mutuals with emmie, i would not have shared my feelings, and once again, i was not loose-lipped enough to just tell anyone because they’d listen. i told abby in particular because i had felt we were sufficiently close individuals who talked one-on-one and were able to vent to each other. a bit after i vented to her, though, she befriended emmie, which i had no such issues with because abby was/is her own person and is an adult who can interact freely and befriend whoever she wanted/wants to.

not long after that, on the night before eid (this detail is relevant in the future) an ex moot of mine @/kazuwhora reached out to me. if you guys remember, there was a discourse last year that was all over dash about how writers on this app should be open to criticism. a lot of people (including me and kc) were upset by that sentiment—which is still valid. please don’t give constructive criticism to writers without their explicit permission !! but regardless, kc sent me a screenshot of a mutual of mine who had posted their opinion on this discourse, and their point was clearly that while constructive criticism is important in some aspects, writers do not have to be subject to receiving it should they not want to. unfortunately, i felt as if kc misunderstood what this individual was trying to say, and i was trying to explain it to her, but we got into a small argument over how we interpreted the post. i felt some of the things she was saying about this individual were inappropriate, and i had made it clear that i was very fond of this person, and it made me uncomfortable to be having this discussion. regardless of whether she saw my interpretation of the post or not, i wanted to drop the discussion, especially because it was the night before eid. eid is the one holiday i celebrate, and there are traditions i quite enjoy the night before, and i didn’t want them to be spoiled with a poor mood over a silly argument. unfortunately, she wasn’t very willing to drop the topic, and it ended up making me upset. so i posted this screenshot to my moots only personal from the conversation that consisted of my messages only and said, “tonight i had to explain what a debate is.” it was petty, perhaps, but very harmless, seeing as there was no context given and no names/pfps to indicate who the person was.

truthfully, i had vented separately to cat, eris, and abby about this argument because i was friends with the three of them at the time, but needless to say, venting to your friends about arguments is a universal action, and i believe it is something all of us have partaken in.

eventually, i decided to softblock emmie because i felt it would be more comfortable for me on my blog to do so. after a bit, i was informed of a subpost that seemed like it couldn’t be about anyone other than me—to make things clear, emmie subposting me was not my concern. i did not hold it against her because she is more than entitled to have her own feelings and vents on her own blog, but the thing that did concern me was that it seemed slightly evident that she was aware of my feelings when i had never explicitly had a conversation with her. it made me question who would tell her, and as you may have guessed, the only person with whom i had shared my concerns who could also be in contact with emmie was abby.

at the time, eris had also voiced concerns that they had trusted abby with the ending of the plot for the diluc series they were planning, and coincidentally, one of abby’s friends had posted a fic idea eerily similar to their concept, to which abby had been commenting and reblogging more brainstormed ideas under. all of these ideas were very close to the plans eris had for their series plot, and understandably, they felt that it was not a mere coincidence that their entire plot was being brainstormed on dash by a person who was fully aware of their outline. i’d voiced my concerns with believing that abby may have also been sharing things i trusted her with, and as a result we both had made a few vague subposts that we liked from each other—a petty behavior, i will admit, but not something that i think is very out of the norm for a lot of people on this app. sometimes, we all just want to vent out our frustrations, and because we all more or less use tumblr as an outlet, these can sometimes be vaguely taken to dash. it’s not something that is ideally recommended (i’ve learned the hard way) but it’s also ?? not exactly something that only i’m guilty of, or is even a rare behavior. i think to shoot down one person for this behavior is quite frankly hypocritical. again, subposting isn’t a habit i would like to push as mature but it’s something i’d like to point out is very normal in this community, and is not something only i take part in. beyond that, i take to ensuring that whenever i do, i’m not explicitly exposing who i’m talking about in order to keep them out of unnecessary issues.

after this conversation with eris, it kind of solidified in my mind that i did not want to trust abby with any more personal vents, or information, and i had ultimately decided to soft block her too. i had also decided to take the opportunity to softblock kc as well because i figured i might as well just remove individuals who i felt made me uncomfortable. this is, again, my right to do so to curate my own space. not long after, cat, eris, and i had been softblocked/hardblocked by a number of moots, and we were a bit confused, until cat ended up having a conversation with kc. many accusations were made about all three of us, more specifically, about me to kc by abby because the two of them had been discussing that they’d both been softblocked by me recently.

the list of accusations we were told of is as follows:

me, cat, and eris have a “burn book” where we “blacklist people.” it’s important to note that every time this discourse resurfaces (this is now the fourth time), the “burn book” has fundamentally changed in its composition—it has changed from a discord server “burn book”, to a google doc “burn book”, to the current rumor that it was an entire blog that was used as a “burn book.” it is consistently changed to fit whatever narrative is trying to be pushed, and regardless, the rumor itself is entirely untrue and has been addressed multiple times. cat has had a tumblr theme, a collab theme, and a server theme all dedicated to the film mean girls. she simply had a channel that was to share the urls of minors to block for interacting with nsfw works, or people who were anti-dark content—this is something that i have seen in all servers i’ve been in during my time on tumblr, and is not a new concept for many of you either. it’s simply a precaution a lot of servers take to warn writers about potential minors to block, and potential anti-dark content harassers. the name of this channel happened to be “the burn book” because it was a mean girls themed server, so the name just fit. nowhere in this channel were other writers in the community “blacklisted” or spoken negatively of, and here are the screenshots of the channel. this was simply something abby had twisted in order to paint us negatively. here is the link to cat’s post addressing it for proof and explanation (i run out of pictures or i would include them myself.)

abby also claimed that i was using this channel to talk poorly about kc and a handful of other moots. this is also false bc this server had several strangers (as it was cat’s server and i didn’t know all her moots), but it also had several of kc’s mutuals/friends in this server as well. i’m not so dense as to talk poorly about other writers publicly in a server, let alone a server i know has people who are friends with kc

now, this next part, emmie has conveniently painted out to be about me, as i apparently harassed and blacklisted people for liking itto from genshin impact, but i have been playing genshin for over a year on this app, and quite a large number of you are my own followers who see my rambles and my writing and i don’t have to explain that i have never written for itto, nor explicitly expressed an interest in him apart from perhaps one or two posts from back when i did his story quest. i never had, and still to this day, have no interest in the character itto. i’ve skipped his banner, i plan to skip his upcoming banners should they come, and i have never written for him, nor do i plan to write for him. this issue with itto is between eris and another individual, and i do not have the details to this, as i was new friends with eris at the time, and i’m no longer friends with eris as of current time. quite frankly, even if i knew the details, i wouldn’t go out of my way to share them because it has nothing to do with me. plain and simple.

as you can see, there were a number of rumors spread here to kc by abby, and as you can see, all of which led me to seem quite vicious in character. i’ve provided, to the best of my ability, screenshots and receipts of why each of these is quite drastically out of context and far from true to what abby has claimed.

i did in fact, after these events confront abby because i was genuinely appalled by the way she knowingly and purposely twisted things conveniently to villainize me. she expressed that she was upset and paranoid by the subposts that she figured were about her once i’d soft blocked her, so i apologized for the posts. she had conversations with both me and cat about the rumors she’d started, and she also apologized for them to both me and cat.

the rumors that emmie has claimed about me in her post, which she conveniently provided no evidence of, are all rumors that are more or less a result of my differences with abby and kc. unfortunately, despite cat trying her best to explain to kc the falseness of most of these rumors, she didn’t really believe them—which is her business. to each their own. i’m sure if i had been in kc’s shoes and in one night, someone i had considered a friend had been painted to do a series of nasty things behind my back, i also would not know what’s true and untrue, and she is entitled to piecing together what she believes is her truth. what’s not fair, however, is for emmie to have no involvement/understanding of these events apart from a twisted narrative she heard from one person and dog pile them into her claims of my behavior to further paint me as a villain. emmie is more than entitled to have her beliefs on my character based on her own experiences, which she has provided her own evidence of, but simply slapping an “and i heard she also….” does not necessarily make claims true, and is very manipulatively thrown into the post to add a list of things that make my character questionable to further validate her point.

not only this, but she has made a point to openly admit that she and her friends have collectively mocked me for my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, who they have apparently labeled as my “fake” boyfriend that i used to get attention on this app. quite plainly, i get enough attention on my blog that i don’t need a fake boyfriend to amp that up. but furthermore, i am a south asian, muslim individual. my parents are immigrants with very strict religious and cultural beliefs that i feel are very restricting at times, and though i love my family, i struggle with my identity quite a bit as i live in a very western culture that clashes quite a bit with my cultural norms. i do not get to freely explore my sexuality or even romantic life in general, unlike some of you. my parents have been kept in the dark about my relationship because them knowing about it is something that could quite literally create a rift between us, and i find it very insulting and almost suspicious that a white girl is making a mockery of my cultural struggles and my personal life. many of you are either desi or muslim or simply children of strict immigrant parents with quite stubborn traditional views. i’m sure plenty of you understand where i’m coming from when i say that i have to keep my relationship hidden from the majority of the people around me. tumblr is the one place i can anonymously share bits and pieces of my life without worrying about if it will literally cost me my relationship with my parents, so sometimes i may have overshared silly or pointless things, but that is because it’s my own way of being able to express myself and my relationship the way i have always wanted to. apart from that, dragging and making a joke out of someone’s personal life is quite unnecessary in this case. the issue is about tumblr discourse, and i find it very hypocritical that i am being labeled a bully when people, more specifically a white and privileged individual, is plain and simple mocking and poking fun at my personal life and situation that i have no control of. that is my piece on that. whether some of you believe i had a partner or not is not my business, nor do i have to go out of my way to show you evidence of my personal life. what i will say, however, is that there are a handful of close friends i have on this app who are involved in my personal life and have seen evidence of my love life through pictures and private stories on social media. quite frankly, these are the only individuals who i have to justify the validity of my personal life to, and it’s honestly quite violating for someone to stoop to dragging someone’s outside life into issues about tumblr. i extend a very genuine fuck you to every single one of you that have ridiculed my personal relationship and just know that you are extremely bold to consider yourselves above bullying when this is the type of behavior you admit to engaging in. individuals with complex familial relationships, and identity struggles between cultural norms, their ethnicities, and the western world are not your playground to make a joke out of. some of us have very real struggles, such as not being able to pursue careers in favor of arranged marriages, not being able to pursue actual relationships that mean something to us due to a lack of familial approval, being forced to bear children at young ages due to familial pressure, and so on. they are not laughing matters, and are a part of my reality. and before some of you get started—yes, it really is that serious. i have struggled my entire life with having white girls poke fun and tease at my cultural norms, and i refuse to allow another white and privileged individual who already has a record of racially related discourse walk away with once more poking fun at my personal struggles and not be called out for it. i hope you had a good, long, satisfying laugh emmie.

onto my next points based on claims @/anantaru has made about me. the main thing i’d like to really point out here is that anantaru and i have never, not even once, interacted to the extent of my knowledge. they claim that cat and i cannot stand it when people cross us in numbers and that we go through people’s likes in order to find minors and blank blogs to explain all the notes. a) i am very bad at checking for minors and blanks in my own notes, so this is not even a logical approach on my end, but b) this claim is made because cat made this post under the tags of a post going around last year that asked to hear unpopular ficblr opinions.

what cat means to articulate here is that sometimes, when she is scrolling on dash and interacting with moots and their shit/talk-posts, she peeks at profiles she sees in the notes and has happened to catch minors lurking. cat, firstly, has never followed anantaru, so they are not a “victim” to cat glancing at their likes, but secondly, this is not nearly as psychotic as it’s painted out to be. cat is not, and was not, jealous of other blog's notes. quite plainly, she’s not exactly a tiny blog either, and she’s only stumbled upon minors in the talks-posts of moots, including me. shit-posts/talks-posts are easy to notice minors lurking on, and while most people recognize that it’s quite impossible to catch every minor and ageless blog in writing posts with numerous notes, a simple shit-post on dash is more simple, and her unpopular opinion was simply that blogs that grow rapidly need to be better about catching those minors because they are susceptible to having more of them lurking. it’s a really harmless sentiment, and she’s gently reminded me as well on more than one occasion to be more responsible about my habit of being lazy when scouting for minors in my interactions.

this is not out of jealousy, nor is it some sick and twisted habit she has to “explain” why people get more notes than she might get. it’s also out of a place of concern for her own content ?? i myself and plenty of other large blogs reblog from mutuals, and they are well within their right to be concerned that perhaps minors are lurking on our pages and interacting with works we reblog from our mutuals. cat has voiced this concern to me before, also out of goodwill and simple concern for my content, her content, and minors in general. there is simply no need to twist it into her viciously looking down upon large blogs and their notes counts and claiming they’re “only because they don’t block minors.” admittedly, though, i do need to be better about catching minors, and i have always appreciated her trying to keep me in the habit of being responsible about it. more importantly, it was a small passing comment under a post of unpopular opinions, a lot of them were hot takes, and this is hardly a serious one to get so heated over.

i’d also like to point out that anantaru has claimed we blocked them for being a gatekeeper and because we’re jealous of their notes. 💀. a) i am very grateful and very happy with the level of interaction i get on my writing, as more people than i imagine leave me countless comments and reblogs. i have never had an issue with comparing my interaction with that of other writers because i have always been abundantly content with the interaction i get. i have no other comment on this other than cat and i blocked anantaru at the same time because we happened to see a post of theirs reblogged onto our dash that made a joke that we felt was a bit insensitive to/alluded to SA—i’m sure it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, but it made us uncomfortable regardless. while we are both dark content supporters, and i myself have read more than one fic that includes noncon in particular, it doesn’t mean we have to like/enjoy everything related to it and we simply decided to block them. i’m not going to bring this post up bc it’s simply not important. they are an adult who is more than entitled to make jokes on their blog and cat and i do not have to like them !! we simply did what we were well within our rights to do, and that’s blocking them.

there’s more they go on to say about receiving hate asks and that apparently it’s because of our “group of friends.” cat and i don’t have a group of friends. i don’t have any group chats with her besides the one with her boyfriend because i get along with him sometimes as well, and we used to play genshin together a lot when i was in low ar. not that i have to explain my friendships here, but i quite literally do not have a group of people to “send after” anantaru because people are well aware of my close friends, who i text with my personal phone number. i’ve posted silly screenshots of convos on my blog multiple times, and none of these friends overlap because i do not have a “group” of friends, just individual friends who i talk to one on one. cat is not friends with my other friends, and my other friends are not friends with her. there are no inner circles that conspire together to send anyone hate because i “tell them to.” and if there are screenshots of me explicitly encouraging someone to send hate on anon, i would love to see it. if i had sent my anons after anantaru, it would have to be a public post, and i’m sure if there were a post of such nature, it would have been brought to light by now. they have also claimed they were given multiple urls of mine to block. i only have ONE writing blog, @/saetoru, and the only other two that are still up are archived blogs @/hanmine and @/katsuphilia, which are side blogs attached to saetoru and have been inactive for several months. there are however, multiple individuals on this app who also go by the name “tee,” and perhaps we have unfortunately been mixed up as the same person, but the only blog i have is saetoru, so there is no other active blog they have blocked me from that belonged to me and was able to harass them.

not only that, but anantaru has claimed that one person off anon sent them hate with a kaeya url which they insinuate to be me. once again, you are all more than aware of my history of urls, and many of you have all been here to see them. i’ve never once had a kaeya url, nor have i ever been particularly interested in kaeya outside of a small number of posts on a rare occasion. my genshin favorites have always been characters from sumeru and, at one point diluc, and once again i don’t have to ?? explain my selfships to you all ?? but literally, i have nothing to do with a kaeya blog or kaeya account, and im unsure why it’s being thrown into my name. quite frankly, i’m not sure what their moot has told them we have said about them, but the only conversations cat and i have ever had about anantaru was that one about the noncon joke, and that’s it. outside of that, there is literally no evidence of us speaking about this person because it simply doesn’t exist.

i implore you all to, instead of starting public discourse over things you hear, confirm them first. had anantaru reached out to me or cat and expressed that they are upset that we are supposedly spreading false rumors about them gatekeeping, then whatever misunderstanding it might have been could have been cleared. i would like to also point out that it is not above bullying when you simply dump numerous accusations that you have heard through half whispers from moots and provide 0 evidence for them. i am perfectly aware of why emmie may consider herself to have issues with me, but i have never had an encounter with anantaru, and truthfully, i’ve never actually even read their writing before. my main (and pretty much only) experience with them is seeing the joke i saw reblogged onto my dash, and as i stated earlier, the only thing i did for that was block and move one.

and lastly, the other point i’d like to make is that numerous blogs who i have been objectively very kind to have come out to take the opportunity to stomp on my character and reputation. for example, tumblr user @/osaemu, who used to follow me and interact with me quite often. i have always been excited to interact with her because she was really supportive of my gojo writing, and at one point, i had a small area of concern with her using the same exact title as me for a gojo fic. below are screenshots of our conversation regarding the titles.

i am quite confident that this is a very polite interaction, and i was very clear that i didn’t think that her writing elements, including gojo’s parent dynamics and his dynamics with the reader, were copied or even something that i felt she needed to change. i pointed them out as a way of indicating that between these parallels and between the fact that i know she reads my rb! gojo series, i find it difficult to believe that our fic titles being exactly the same is a coincidence, and it made me uncomfortable—my concern was not how she wrote gojo’s parents or his dynamic with reader. i never accused her of stealing ideas that were mine alone to use, all i simply wanted to do was shed light on the fact that based on these parallels, i figured the names being the same was a touch difficult for me to brush aside as a chance similarity. i was very clear to outline that i know these dynamics and themes in writing are generic, and that people can pull inspo from them because i have done the same thing. my only concern was the title, which i politely asked her to change, and she agreed. case closed. i have been, again objectively, quite kind to osaemu, and i had no intentions of blocking her like a moot had suggested because i felt it was a very silly issue to block over since she was very lovely to me.

i did, however, block her because she posted one-paragraph posts with multiple characters tagged. that’s not a crime on her end, and i’m certainly not here to police her posts in the tags, but as me and plenty of other people on this app have voiced multiple times, it is a bit irritating and feels like spam to see posts of these kinds in the tags so i blocked her. this is a very popular opinion and i refuse to be considered problematic for it. i am not here to police what constitutes an appropriate post to tag x reader tags on, and while i have made posts simply sharing my opinion on what i feel should and should not be tagged, osaemu is more than welcome to post whatever she feels she would like to into the tags. i do, however, block anyone who i come across who makes those kinds of posts because i simply don’t like them, and i don’t like seeing them. i don’t owe an explanation for why i block anyone, but seeing as i have been painted as some bitch for doing so, here is my reasoning. quite a lot of people agree on this sentiment, and to each their own, but i don’t enjoy seeing those posts. i did also unblock her at one point, as she mentioned. this is simply because a mutual of mine had voiced that they felt someone had copied the concept of their drabble, and i was helping them word a message to send, so i went back to this exact conversation to look back on what i said because it was a similar situation. as you know, blocking someone hides their dms from your dm list, so i had intended to temporarily unblock her just to see how i worded my message to help formulate a message for a mutual. there were no screenshots sent, i simply wanted to jog my memory of my points, that’s all. i did forget to block her again for a bit but eventually did, and that’s the extent of our interactions. i don’t recall posts telling people that i condone sending anons with death threats like she has claimed, and if she could point out the particular posts i have made where i encourage people to send anon death threats on my behalf, i would be more than happy to clear them up, or address them.

i have admittedly, on a few occasions said in my responses to anon hate itself, the phrase “kys” out of frustration, and there are i’m sure conflicting opinions on that, but i do not regularly use this phrase in my vocabulary. i have been on the receiving end of graphic sexual and violent asks in my inbox regarding me, my teenage sister, and my mother, during my time on here, and sometimes out of frustration i have said less than dignified things, but this is not a constant behavior, and frankly, i think once people make graphic, violent, and inappropriate comments about my 16 year old sister, saying “kys” in response is not the greater of the two evils. it is a tad bit hypocritical to expect benevolence from me to an anonymous hate ask just because there is “another person” at the end of the screen when they have not extended the same sentiment to me.

all of that being said, jumping on the trend to trample on someone while you have the opportunity to because you’re bitter they blocked you is also no better than bullying. apart from blocking osaemu, I have taken careful steps to always be respectful to her due to the very kind comments she’s left on my writing. leaving nice comments on my writing is deeply appreciated and welcome, but that doesn’t mean i have to subject myself to seeing posts i do not want to see on my dash on my phone. i pay for the phone bill, so i will cater my phone to show me what i want to see, and if that includes blocking a few people, i am allowed to do that !! i should not have to apologize for or be crucified for blocking someone and their feelings being hurt over it.

not only this, but several of you have somehow started a rumor that i am 26 or even pushing 30. that’s nowhere close to the truth. i’m 21, soon to be 22, and i have stated multiple times i am an undergraduate college student. of course, there is no timeline to college, and people of all ages complete their undergrad degrees, but i have made it a point to vent about my concerns numerous times that i am very stressed about taking extra classes every semester to compensate for changing my major late because i want to graduate on time. my graduation year is 2024 (as would make sense seeing as i will be 22 years old), and if you don’t believe me, i have celebrated my bday on april 12th of every year this blog has been active. you’re more than welcome to check my archive to see if that’s true, and for further reference, here is a picture i have sent to mods of servers i am in to be accepted. (note that my url used to be hanmas before saetoru.)

although there is no shame in being 26 or pushing 30, the reason why i wanted to address this is that i wanted to point out that yet another rumor has been fiercely pushed on my name and has been believed to be the truth. no one has to walk away from reading this post assuming that i’m a saint and i have never done anything wrong or that i have been faultless in differences i’ve had with other people. but a lot, if not all, of these claims are exaggerated with 0 evidence, and people have just run with claiming them as true. i physically cannot deny a large majority of these rumors with evidence or screenshots because half of them are made by people i have never interacted with or talked to, and i cannot produce evidence for interactions that never happened. i have seen blank, burner blogs post stories of their experiences with me, one in particular that claims i dm’d them to tell them their hanma fic was breathtaking before i harassed them about their theme, boyfriend, and parents. a) i do not dm anyone to compliment their fics because i am simply too shy to do that. i would have only reblogged the fic with comments if i enjoyed it. b) again, there is no evidence on their part, and i cannot dispel this story with evidence of my own because evidence of conversations that never took place does not exist. and c) i would like to think i do not come across as dense enough to attack someone in their dm’s viciously about their boyfriend and parents openly with my account, where they could easily spread the proof around if it had actually happened. i am not responsible for people’s internet literacy, and if people believe every story that is shared with not even a small piece of proof that it took place, i cannot do anything besides simply urge you all to formulate your opinions based on what you see, not based on what you hear.

i would also like to end things off with an apology to all of you—mainly because there was no reason for so many of you to be dragged into something that did not involve you and also because there are very disturbing and important issues going on right now in real-time in the world that are affecting a lot of people. i never want to be involved in something that takes attention off of important discussions such as genocide, and while many of you like to claim i am deflecting, i think it is quite telling that some people have posted nothing about something this important but have made multiple posts regarding discourse. i did not feel it was appropriate at that time to focus on discourse, and i still do not think so, but i wanted to leave off with my own statement.

i would also like to apologize if i have ever come across as unkind during an experience with me; it is never my intention to be that way purposely. i have a habit of being petty sometimes and can be a bit short-tempered, and it’s something i work on. with as large of a following as i have, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all than say it—however vaguely it might be. i hope some of you who also have larger followings keep that in mind so that you can avoid discourse erupting into something grand scale. please vent to people you trust and be wary of having a habit to subpost. but mainly, please remember that people trusting you with their feelings and troubles is not something you should take pride in spreading. there is nothing to be proud of about sharing people's private socials, urls, and conversations. while i am not always able to keep my temper under wraps, and while i have had my fair share of petty moments, i, to the best of my ability, have always made sure that i don’t come across as intentionally cruel or mean, nor have i purposely broken someone’s trust. sometimes i have retaliated back a bit fiercely, but i stand by the fact that i never purposely chased or drove anyone off, mocked or belittled them, or sent people over to dislike/hate them. i have at times vented to those who i believe are people i can trust, sure—but this is something we as people are all guilty of. there’s no way any of us can hold one person more accountable than others for partaking in closeted conversations that are never meant to get back to people and hurt them.

i genuinely loved, and still love, writing very much, and i have always appreciated every ask, every reblog, and every comment. writing is a hobby i am greatly passionate about, and it’s always a hobby i was very excited to share with people on here because i don’t get to share it with people irl. i don’t willingly tell people irl that i enjoy making elaborate plots about anime characters, and i have always been very excited to share that hobby with you all, whether you are a reader or writer. i’ve read fanfiction for a very long time before i ever decided to try my hand at writing it, and i would never want to knock other people down simply because they “surpassed” me. i enjoy finding writers to read from, especially those who write better than me, because they are where i draw the most inspiration and motivation from. the moots i look up to most are moots who are in my opinion, far stronger writers than me, and moots who i always firmly believe deserve much more reach than i do on their stories because they’re far more fleshed out and in-depth than anything i can produce. and i am proud of them !! and even those of you who feel you are stuck not getting as much reach as you would hope, i am proud also of all of you for picking up a google doc or pen and writing and trying, whether you choose to share it or not. i will always strongly encourage you all to try your hand at writing if you have ever considered it because i have genuinely built such a better sense of self-esteem when being able to incorporate pieces of myself in my stories and express parts of who i am—i think some of you might really enjoy the catharsis that writing brings, and if you ever debate on trying it out, please do !! you might become really passionate about it.

anyway, this post is abysmally long. none of it is to clear my name in hopes that i will be “un-canceled” (LOL) because i have decided saetoru is long overdue to be put to rest. i hope you can all, at the very least, allow other writers some peace and stop harassing them in their inboxes for knowing me (because that is also bullying and very ironic of you), and i hope you all got some sort of understanding of where i am coming from. if you think poorly of me, that’s okay. i have an opinion of myself, and the close people who surround me, that i am confident in, and while i may not have always handled things in the brightest of manners, i am well aware of what my intentions have always been.

i’m deeply grateful to all 41k of you, and thank you for reading my works and allowing me to write for you !! thank you for all the very, very kind asks that i never got a chance to fully answer each one of, and thank you especially for all the supportive comments and love on the writing i’ve posted. they might be silly fics you read once and moved on from, but they’re all pieces of me, my life, and things that are important to me, and as cringe and cheesy as it sounds, it means quite literally everything to me when people read them and take away something from them.

also, as a parting gift, i will be posting the nerd gojo, ex-convict geto, and a marriage rb! gojo fic to my ao3 (also saetoru) for those of you who have been patiently awaiting those wips to enjoy. please (a little more patiently) keep your eyes peeled for those <3 i will no longer be posting or active on saetoru, and in the event that i keep writing, it will be posted on my ao3, so you all will know where to find me !!

so for the last time, i love you my little runts !! wishing you all the best, and goodbye to my lil saetoru bestees.

mwah !!

— tee <3

ps. i also have turned off reblogs for this post and limited replies to people i follow only. a lot of you will jump to say that it’s simply because i am “hiding,” but it is solely because i have said my piece and i intend to move on. thank you and have a lovely day shawtee ✌🏽

#thanks to all my mutuals who have reached out !! i love you all #and i will miss you tons !!

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anachronistic-falsehood · 4 months

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i. don’t really know what to think about the whole forever situation. because i have seen people say “he’s addressed this a long time ago so why are we bringing it up” but i haven’t seen WHERE he’s addressed it in the past. nary a tweet or clip of anywhere he may have talked about it, but i would love to see an older clip of him talking about this if possible

I’ve seen people say “his tweets and messages were translated in bad faith to give english speakers a bad perception” which. ok yeah understandable but if that’s the case i still don’t know what exactly the situation is or how serious it is

“she was 13” “she was 15” OK WHICH IS IT!!! both are bad but one is still significantly grosser than the other and i don’t know which is true!! or are there multiple girls!!! i don’t know!!!

“he met a fan for flirtatious/sexual reasons” “he met a fan for normal content creator reasons” WHICH IS IT!!!! I DON’T KNOW!!! i guess only he and the fan would know what the intent was when they met, and even then i don’t know if they met alone or if it was a normal ass fan meetup with multiple other people there

“it’s been 7-8 years, he’s changed” ok. now we are making some sense. he has not exhibited this kind of behaviour in years it seems and he appears to be the kind of person who would not say or do these things now. no one is irredeemable and no one is beyond change. still, it is important for some people to know. many fans would rather know this and make the educated choice on whether to support him or not than continue to support him in blind blissful ignorance. even though it’s stressing me out and i’m still clueless about a lot of it, i’m glad i know anyway.

“what about the past transphobia and the ableism and the and the and the-” That Is Not Relevant To This Conversation. this is a different situation. he has apologized for his past opinions and everyone has had ample time to come to terms with them and make peace with supporting him despite his past beliefs.

“he’s deleting past tweets” i mean if someone was digging around my account for things i’ve said that i no longer stand by, i would delete shit too. sure as hell doesn’t make him look innocent but i would do the same. i HAVE done the same, albeit for much more minor and trivial reasons for posts i made when i was like 15, but still

“he apologized and said he’s getting a lawyer!! no guilty person would do that!!” your content creator is not an angel. guilty people take their accusers to court all the time and get away with it. also, it is up to everyone individually to decide whether to believe him or not. you cannot push others to believe your side but you can give context to some things

there’s nuance to this like there is with everything, and people are jumping to conclusions saying either “he’s an innocent little lamb how dare you!” or “he should be deplatformed and we should never speak of him again!” i will never fault anyone for supporting the alleged victim. if your decision is to stop watching him immediately or even stop supporting the qsmp itself, no one should ever fault you for that. it is ultimately up to you to make that decision. the situation is not clear enough for me to make a decision, so i will withhold judgement for now. i will not doompost about it, and i will not call out people for defending or dropping him.

but for the love of god, just. everybody keep your cool. especially english speakers, we may not have full proper translations for the messages and tweets. take a deep breath. if you want to find more info to form an opinion now and spread information that people don’t already have, go ahead. if you want to step back and not think about it for now, go ahead. there is no shame in taking a step back and thinking about other things. you are not morally obligated to be invested in this situation. you are not morally obligated to drop him immediately and you are also not morally obligated to keep supporting him just because he’s friends with your favs. stick to your gut and do what you feel is right. you will be okay. this is not the end of the world.

#qsmp #forever situation

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spamgyu · 4 months

Text

ONE LAST TIME // Seungcheol x Reader oneshot

DESCRIPTION: It's Christmas and Seungcheol was bored... Who better else to bother than Kkuma's mom? PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader GENRE: Fluff MASTERLIST

Merry Christmas to all my Cheol Apologists. Here is a quick unedited drabble/oneshot for you guys – a little something for making me laugh.

"Merry Christmas 🎁🎄😉"

His thumb hovered over the send button, chewing at his lip as he contemplated whether he should go ahead and allow his intrusive thoughts win.

He had seen countless of twitter posts about exes doing this same thing, laughing at each one.

After the fifth one he scrolled past, Seungcheol decided "why the hell not" and scrolled to the bottom of his messages — clicking on the one conversation he had yet to delete.

Along with the name he had yet to change.

He wasn't hanging on to her, no definitely not.

Just didn't think it's that important to delete messages when his phone storage was completely fine.

And why go as far as changing her contact name back to her government name. The honey emoji was cute anyways.

Fuck it.

Holding his breath, he hit send and waited for the screen to flash the words delivered before swiping out of the app.

It was just in good fun, he wasn't expecting a reply — he just wanted to be as annoying as the other men on social media who reached out to their exes after months of no contact..... for the laughs.

He knew there was a higher percentage of her leaving him on read than replying and telling him off; she was always the bigger person.

But Seungcheol was oh so wrong.

In the midst of replying to Jeonghan's instagram story of his family's Christmas feast, her assigned contact name appeared.

"Lmfao stfu" She replied.

But she also hearted the message.

Letting out a soft chuckle, he quickly typed away on his keyboard.

"Damn, not even going to say it back?"

He was just joking.

And he knew she found it funny.

Within seconds her chat bubble appear — she was typing.

"Merry Christmas, Cheol🎄"

"What about my family?"

He was pushing it.

But with all his other friends far too busy with their own family activities to reply to his texts, he was going to keep at it.

"Texted your mom this morning dumbass."

He wasn't aware she was still in contact with his mother.

Though, he should have figured.

They were together for three years.

And his mom had always wanted a daughter.

"Dumbass? At least be nicer to your favorite ex."

"Who said you're my favorite? 🫵🏼"

"I just know 😉"

"You're currently at the bottom on my list. At least my other ex got me a present."

Bottom of her list.

She had only one other ex.

And he didn't count.

High school boyfriends don't count. Especially if they broke up right after graduation.

Those were just test runs.

More importantly, it was Seokmin. And he gives presents to everyone.

He had a big heart and wants to be everyone's friend.

"Was it a tea set again?"

"Shut up lol"

"Send me your list, I'll get you something."

"Dyson Airwrap 😈"

He knew she was joking.

But wouldn't it be funny, if he actually did it?

Switching apps, Seungcheol typed into his search bar, clicking the first result that had pooped up.

He still had her address memorized.

Seungcheol hit the complete button, and locked his phone as bounded for the dining room — checking to see if his mom and dad had finally set up tonight's feast.

He was just about to pick at the cheeseboard his mother set up on the table when the familiar sound of a facetime call blared from the phone in his hand began to ring — it was her.

She must have gotten the confirmation email.

"Wassup?" He swiped the accept button — throwing a cheese cube in his mouth.

It had been a while since he had last seen her, being blocked on all her social media accounts and all.

She was really persistent on keeping the no contact rule after the break up.

Even when they took turns taking care of their shared dog, Kkuma — opting to use Wonwoo as their puppy's form of transportation and point of contact.

He protested each time their non-government assigned custody switch off was set to happen — trudging to his car with Kkuma in tow.

Wonwoo claimed they were far worse than actual divorced parents — complaining more considering Seungcheol technically had custody of him and the dog.

Seungcheol couldn't help but bite back a smile as he watched her from behind the screen — making note of how cute she looked when she was annoyed.

He's allowed to think she's cute.

They were broken up but that doesn't mean she wasn't attractive.

"You're joking, right?"

"What are you talking about?" Seungcheol blinked.

She could see right through his act, giving him the finger.

"Hey, that's not nice." He laughed.

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"Am I your favorite yet?"

"No!"

"I'll buy you another one." He threatened.

"Cheol!"

"Yes?" He answered sweetly, making her lips curl in annoyance.

He always did enjoy getting her nerves.

Seeing her huff and puff had always been his favorite part of his day.

Especially when she would pout after taking a joke a little too far only for him to kiss it all better — not that he could do that now.

He's allowed to reminisce on old memories. At least, he'll allow himself just this one time during the holidays.

"Fine, what do you want?"

You.

Seungcheol shook his head. "Nothing."

"Come on, let me get you something."

He pursed his lips, thinking — he had almost anything he could ask for.

And if he did end up thinking of anything, he could simply swipe his card and purchase it himself.

There was one thing he did want, but be knew it would be a selfish thing to ask of her.

Settling for the next best thing, a smile crept on his face."What perfume do you use again?"

"You want my perfume?" She raised her brows.

He missed the way she smelled.

The remaining item he had that held traces of her no longer had that signature scent — having it been nearly a nine months since she had lounged around his place in his hoodie.

He would have purchased it himself, but the thought of him going out of the way to purchase her scent only for him to spray it on her favorite hoodie and her side of the bed seemed pathetic.

But considering she offered....

"Why not? I like the smell." He shrugged.

Sighing, she swiped out of their call — allowing for his face to minimize and settle for a corner in her screen as she quickly typed away on her phone.

She still had his address memorized as well.

Seungcheol couldn't be more grateful that Apple had changed their phone setting and no longer pause the person on the other side of the line's video when they swiped away — watching as she brought the device closer to her face, her brows naturally furrowing as she focused in her task.

"Done." She sang, clicking back into their call.

It wasn't long before he got the confirmation email, his eyes widening at the transaction breakdown.

"Why the hell is your perfume $250!?" His mouth hung in shock.

It was no wonder she had always scolded him for spraying a little too much when she allowed him to have some.

Curse Le Labo and their damn prices.

"It's worth it."

"I would hope so, it cost almost as much as a hairdryer!"

"You asked for it!" She laughed.

It was music to his ears.

"Is that y/n?" His mom's scurried over to him, wiping her hands on her apron. Seungcheol moved the camera to fit the both of them on screen, the smile on his face growing larger – as if it could get any more since their call began.

"Merry Christmas, mom!" She waived.

Mom.

When he had first introduced her to his parents, it didn't take long for them to warm up to her – insisting that she referred to them as mom and dad because "you two will be married soon, anyways."

Oh, they were so wrong.

"Stop by tomorrow for leftovers yeah?" The older lady asked.

"Mom..." He trailed off, not wanting to pressure the girl behind the screen – although, they did agree that Kkuma was to ring in the New Year with her because he had a snowboard trip planned with his friends.

She can pick her up early instead of having to ask Wonwoo.

"I'd love to." She smiled warmly.

How was he going to find someone who got on well with his mom?

Trick question.... he didn't want to.

"Perfect." His mother clapped, before excusing herself back into the kitchen.

"Guess I'm picking our daughter up early." She mumbled.

Our daughter.

"Guess I'll be seeing you too."

"That can be arranged."

"Come on, it's been months. I think we can see each other now." He half-heartedly teased.

The anger had subsided and the wounds that once kept them up at night had grown numb – the only memory of their past were now re-runs of the good times. It was as if their brain completely disregarded the fighting and the heartache that they had gone through in the last few months of their relationship.

They were now.... okay.

"I don't know, Cheol."

"Come on. One last time."

It was almost like he was pleading for her – the playful tone between the two have shifted.

He watched as she nervously switched holding her phone from one hand to the other, chewing at the skin inside her cheek.

He shouldn't have mentioned it.

But he was already far from the line they had drawn between them – swearing to never cross.

"I miss you." He continued. "It's a neutral setting. We can have breakfast with my parents."

"One last time?"

"Promise."

He broke that promise within a few weeks – picking up Kkuma at her apartment instead of his friend. She nearly stumbled back when she swung the door open and saw his smiling face – holding a paper bag containing her favorite pastries.

It wasn't long before he would show up at her door again and again; and she wasn't complaining.

They swore they were just friends.

Two exes who were coparenting – remaining cordial for the sake of their dog.

That was, until she had agree to spend Christmas with him at his family home – one last time.

They should have known his mother was scheming, she was a little too cheerful when she had greeted them at the door.

"Oh, will you look at that!" She gasped, pointing up above them as they kicked their shoes off.

The two exchanged looks before looking up at the doorway where his mother taped two leaves – a chuckle escaping his lips in an instant.

"What do you say?" He raised a brow at her. "One last time?"

"Or maybe a couple more," Y/n copied his playful tone. "if... you want."

"Oh, I definitely want." Seungcheol wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer – planting a quick peck on her lips.

His mother was there.

And so was their daughter.

"Merry Christmas." She giggled.

Thank god for that damn twitter trend.

#TO MY TEAM MINGYU GIRLIES: i swear im not paying favorites #this is me trying to restore peace #i swear #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #seventeen fic #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fic #seungcheol x you #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol x oc #scoups #scoups scenarios

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runnning-outof-time · 7 months

Note

Omggg congrats on 3.5k!! That’s incredible! Duuuude this short prompt blurb challenge is gonna blow up! For me, would you be open to doing one with Tommy, using the prompt sentence, “Look at me right now”? He sure can be demanding when he wants something lolol🥰🥵again, congratulations dear! You deserve all the love!

Oh thank you so much for sending this in @tragiclotus ! You’re so right - he really can be! I hope you like what I did with this, and that you’ve been enjoying the blurbs I’ve been sharing! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

No One But You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, worry of past lovers returning…nothing too major

Word Count: 1018

Summary: Tommy assures (Y/N) that she’s the only woman he wants after two women from his past reappear in his life.

She must’ve read the return address a dozen times. Why? She didn’t know. It wasn’t like reading it again was going to make the sender’s name change. But yet she did anyway.

(Y/N) knew who Grace was. She’d heard about her; knew what she’d done to Tommy and his family. So why the hell was she sending him letters now?

At first she spoke to Polly, who told her to hide them. As a clerk at the postmaster’s office, she’d make sure to bring any mail the Shelbys received with her whenever she’d come to visit her boyfriend. When she’d arrive at Watery Lane, she’d follow the older woman’s suggestion and promptly slip the envelope into one of the side table’s drawers; hoping that Tommy wouldn’t find them there. But they just kept coming.

And now as she was walking to Watery Lane with what was the fifth letter Grace had sent, she didn’t know if she could keep up with hiding them. So instead she kept it in her hands, re-reading it until she heard the door open.

She stood to her feet at the sound and walked over to greet her boyfriend, accepting his kiss and shoulder squeeze as a greeting. Tommy knew something was wrong the second he pulled away. (Y/N) wasn’t wearing her usual, welcoming smile. Instead, her expression was blank.

“Has something happened?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“This came in to the post today,” she answered him, extending her hand to hold the envelope out between them.

Tommy’s brows furrowed deeper as he scanned over the words written on the envelope.

“Why does she keep writing you?” (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from asking, desperate to know why he was still receiving letters from her.

She and Tommy had entered a relationship only five months ago, but she was no stranger to the life that he lived and the company he’d kept in the past. Tommy Shelby was sought after by many, and somehow she’d gotten lucky…or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. No matter how many times his actions reassured her that he was hers alone, that nagging seed of doubt still crept into her mind. Like it was doing now.

“I don’t know why,” he answered with a shake of his head, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left for New York.”

“She’s written to you five times,” (Y/N) couldn’t withhold the information any longer. Tommy’s brows furrowed again upon hearing her admission, so she decided to elaborate: “Polly said that I shouldn’t give them to you; that I should hide them instead. They’re in the side table. I don’t know why I listened to her. I just…I couldn’t bring myself to give them to you.”

Tommy looked down at the letter and back to (Y/N), seeing that she was now biting on her lip, a nervous tendency of hers that he’d noticed fairly early into their relationship.

“May Carleton also came to meet you last week…” she spoke again after silence had hung in the air for a few moments.

“She needed to speak about the horse,” he answered in a nonchalant manner, not thinking much more of the meeting he had with the other woman.

(Y/N), of course, was overthinking it.

“Hey…” Tommy brought her out of her thoughts, making her focus on him again. “I can see you fighting with yourself. Let those thoughts go.”

“I can’t…I just can’t help but wonder if maybe, if maybe that, that with them coming back…” she tried to speak but her mind betrayed her, and the lump that formed in her throat stopped her from speaking altogether.

Not much more was needed to connect the dots though. The clues had been dropped and Tommy was quick enough to pick them up and place them in order. “Those women are in the past, (Y/N). You’re the one I want,” he spoke with sincereity, hoping that it’d quell the thoughts swirling around her mind.

(Y/N) held eye contact with him until she couldn’t anymore. She felt those worries still bubbling up inside of her, even though he’d just flat out told her that he wanted her. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, watching as she picked at her nails.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy tried to get her attention, but to no avail. “Look at me right now,” he went another route, using his index and middle finger to raise her eyes to his again. He could see that they were watery now, and he hated that she was thinking so far into this. He took her cheeks into his hands, pulling her the slightest bit closer to him before speaking again. “There’s no one but you, ok? You’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I want,” he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke. “Ok?” he asked again after she hadn’t spoken in a few moments.

“Ok,” (Y/N) breathed out, nodding her head the best she could with it held in his hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself. When she opened them again, they immediately hooked onto Tommy’s intense blue ones. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” she felt that she had to apologize.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head slightly at her statement, “there’s no reason for you to be sorry, love.”

“But I…”

“No,” he cut her off, “I’m going to burn this letter, and any other letter that comes. You’re the one I want, (Y/N).”

A small smile formed on her face at his words. She reached out and gently ran the back of her hand down his cheek, watching as his eyes dropped to her lips. Knowing what was coming next, she closed her eyes, leaning in slightly and meeting him in the middle, their lips finding each other’s in a passionate kiss that rid her mind of all of her doubts.

“No one but you, love,” Tommy whispered against her lips before kissing them again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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sunny44 · 7 months

Text

Reunions on the track

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex best friend!reader

Warnings: fights

Summary: Charles and Y/n have known each other since they were five years old, but with the start of his motorsport career they lost touch.

Years later, when Charles was driving for Ferrari in Formula 1 and Y/n had a degree in photography, their paths crossed again when she was hired as the team's new photographer.

I was accustomed to the Formula 1 circus.

The roar of engines, the team's hustle and bustle, cameras always pointed in his direction. But on this sunny morning, I was surprised with something or someone to be more specific. I entered the Scuderia Ferrari pitlane and that’s when I saw her, with her back turned to him, skillfully handling a camera. Y/n. Her name echoed in his mind like an echo from the past.

I assumed from the camera in her hand that she had filled the vacancy at Ferrari.

"Are you kidding me?" Charles muttered, addressing Mattia Binotto, the head of the Ferrari team. "Is Y/n here?"

Mattia smiled, as if he knew this could cause turbulence.

“Surprise, Charles. She’s our new photographer. Y/n has an incredible eye for capturing the most intense moments of the races.”

I made an effort to control the flood of emotions rising in me. Me and Y/n had been inseparable friends since childhood, but we drifted apart over time, especially when my career in motorsport took off.

We hadn't spoken in years, and now she is here, on the same team as me.

Our friendship was perfect, we had known each other forever, and I remember our mothers saying that we would definitely get married if we just got older. Over time, I realized that I had feelings for her, and I was willing to wait until we were old enough and then confess my feelings to her. But then everything changed.

I started rapidly advancing through categories, and then I just stopped talking to her.

I stood there for a few minutes just looking at her until Y/n finally turned around, and their gazes met. It wasn't a warm and joyful reunion. On the contrary, there was a moment of tense silence before Y/n broke it.

"Charles Leclerc, the Ferrari golden boy." she said, with a sarcastic smile. "Who would have thought you'd become so famous, huh?"

Charles felt his face grow warm.

“Don’t start Y/n.”

"Don't start? You just disappear from my life when you started winning races, and I'm the one who can't say anything?"

I don't know why, but I didn't think she would be this hostile.

"I was busy, Y/n. You know how life is in F1."

"Busy or not, you could have found a way to stay in touch. But, of course, you had more important things to do than to care about me." She looked at me, hurt. "But who am I to blame you, right? After all, with fame and beautiful models hanging on your neck all the time, I wouldn't mean anything to you anyway."

Those words hit Charles like a punch in the stomach. He knew he had made mistakes, but he never imagined that Y/n was so hurt.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I should have been a better friend." She let out an exasperated sigh.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm here to do my job," she said sternly. "You just need to pretend that I mean nothing to you; I don't think it will be that difficult."

I simply nodded, realizing that the situation was far from resolved. While the engines roared in the background, indicating that I had to get into the car next.

And, of course, I spent the entire practice session thinking about how to have her back in my life.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram stories

“First day of work done”

Y/n.jpg nstagram post

Liked by @lando.jpg, @Scuderiaferrari, @charlesleclerc and @maxverstappen

Y/n.jpg My dream came true and I’m in Monaco photographing the formula 1 Grand Prix

This is the best weekend of my life and here’s a few photos 🏎️

F1 welcome to the f1 family

Maxverstappen nice photos

Liked by y/n.jpg

Landonorris hello there

Carlossainz welcome to the team

Y/n.jpg thank you

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sixosix · 30 days

Text

US TRAITORS NEVER WIN | LYNEY

notes 3.1k words! hey guys, this series started before arlecchinos release, so if you're reading this post-arlecchino-release and wondering why she might be ooc — that's why!!

before you read! this chapter involves a lot of flashbacks going back and forth with the present narrative. To avoid confusion, you’ll notice the difference in tenses. hope you’ll be able to read without hassle!

warnings hostage situation, mentions of violence; it’s nothing explicitly gory, but be cautious if you want to read!

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

The stillness of the room feels like a slap to the face. As the 15-foot-tall doors shut with a thud, Lyney has nowhere else to look but in the heart of the room. There is no spotlight, but his attention is arrested by the dark claws leading up to none other than their ‘Father’.

"Lyney, Lynette," The Knave greets. Her legs are crossed, yet she takes up the entire couch anyway.

No, better yet, her presence floods the entire room, and Lyney is suffocated.

Usually, he'd have no problem with 'Father' addressing him directly; she’d done so multiple times as her successor. He could speak without stumbling, knowing he was doing his job and doing it right. But there's a new factor in play now, and he doesn't know what 'Father' would do if she finds out about you—if she hasn’t already found out about you.

A heavy weight settled over his limbs: fear, anticipation, or some emotion you’ll only ever learn when faced with a Harbinger. Lyney feels suffocated. Lyney wants to drop to his knees from the pressure of all of it. (He feels angry instead for thinking of caving in so quickly.)

He breathes in deeply and bows along with his sister. "'Father', welcome back," he says, grimly wishing he had meant it instead of this.

Arlecchino hums, her gaze icy. Lyney feels sweat gather on the back of his neck. He keeps his head hunched, and Lynette does the same. "Lovely party. I heard Tartaglia dropped by?"

"He said he was collecting debts," Lyney says.

Arlecchino laughed under her breath, though it was more like a huff from her nose. "He says that, but he's only here for personal business. Yet the Tsaritsa would let him, as usual.”

Lyney frowns. Personal? Although they could never turn away a Harbinger from entering the banquet, Lyney is positive they never invited him. And then he wonders if you only came because Master Childe was there—and he doesn’t like that thought at all.

“But,” Arlecchino says, selecting a champagne flute from the table by her feet, “we all know this isn't what we're here to talk about.”

Lyney carefully composes his expression, silent, lingering for her to say it first. Lynette’s tail flicks. Arlecchino scrutinized them.

“I heard about the mishap of a performance. That was supposed to be the night you were going to investigate the Oratrice, wasn’t it?”

Although she phrases it like an innocent question, Lyney could find the implications. You have failed.

She continues: “Were you ever planning to tell me about Y/N?”

Lyney was already expecting it, but to hear your name from her mouth made him wince. It turns out she already knew the answer.

Lyney finds his voice through some bout of a miracle. “Y/N’s not involved in this, I—”

“From what I heard, you haven’t investigated it, still, even when you performed again.”

It’s true. Lyney and Lynette could only perform safer tricks—Lyney wasn’t in the right state of mind to fully focus on his performance. And upon reconstructing their props, Lynette discovered they had used the wrong rope to tie up the water tank. It was all set up too hastily to try and rebuild it. But there was another reason: it slipped from his mind.

“She’s not part of the House anymore,” The Knave continues at Lyney’s guilty silence. “And I know you’re smart enough to realize she’s after intel. Whatever it may be, it has something to do with the Traveler after us. As a child of the House, would you irresponsibly let someone interfere with our mission like that?”

Lyney says, “It’s not like she would be against us—”

“She chose to leave. Aren’t you doing her decision a disservice by pulling her back?”

Lyney knew that this would happen. He knew well enough to predict what ‘Father’ would make them do, but still—

“We understand,” Lynette says, her eyes darting down to Lyney’s clenched fists.

The Knave stares at Lyney, and the strength of her stare has Lyney lowering his eyes to the floor. “Do you?” she asks. They wisely stay silent: Lynette’s hesitance and Lyney’s frustration. “Then I trust this won’t happen any longer.”

‘Father’ plucks an image beside her thigh, then reveals it. The Knave holds his gaze as his jaw goes slack.

You and Childe build an agreement to keep up the facade, though it was mostly because Childe owed Aether. Something about how Lord Tartaglia is a family man, you don’t really understand—he mentions many names, and you’re too hungover to remember who Tonia was.

You had never been so… chill with a Harbinger like that before, but he was alright. Discussing your previous experience as a Fatuu and understanding the terminology he threw around was nerve-wracking, but Lord Tartaglia didn't mind. He treated you as an equal. And though it was most likely because of Aether, it was a strange feeling you would never get used to.

When Childe vacated the Teapot (what the hell), Aether was on your business in a flash. He said that Childe went back to the banquet while you slept to evade suspicions but found something instead—a picture of Lyney.

“What?” You frown, inching away from Aether’s stare. “What does a picture of Lyney going around have anything to do with me?”

Never mind that you want to see it, though.

“It was a picture of you and Lyney,” Aether says. “Canoodling, like what Childe said.”

Aether grasps your horror and makes it worse by demonstrating a copy of the image blown up overnight.

It mainly was Lyney in the frame, hair mussed and looking very much like a damsel in distress with his pretty face. He was holding someone up, and you recognize who that dress belonged to right away because you’re still wearing it. If you gape long enough, you’d feel his warmth on your side. That wasn’t all, though. The picture had color, and the red mark on Lyney’s neck might as well have gouged your eyes out and called you stupid in itself.

The headlines: SCANDAL: MAGICIAN’S MAGIC WAND FOUND IN UNLIKELY COMPANY!

The reactions: Is that his lover? Is this an affair? Goodness, I’ve never seen Mr. Lyney so intimate with a woman before! Was this woman shamelessly draping herself all over him? Have some decency… Wait, what do they mean by his magic wand?

“Oh my fuck,” is all you can say, mainly because ice has begun to creep up the newspaper.

“Whoa,” Aether says, staring wide-eyed. He’s never seen you use your Vision before, even involuntarily.

You bury your face in your hands. If Aether saw the picture, who else could’ve seen it? The first name that appears to mind is Arlecchino, and although the mysterious, strangely-colored drink helped calm your headache, it was back in full swing at the flash of her face. This has to be on the highest level in the category of Fuck, this is a very Bad Situation.

“Do you show your face often?” Aether asks, gently prying the picture off your frozen hands. “I doubt anyone who doesn’t see you every day would be able to recognize you, but…”

“The only people who get to see me are customers when I’m helping out at the shop,” you say, remembering how much of a hassle it could be for Rosalie when the shop gets busy during February.

Your blood runs cold. Aether and Paimon startle when your fists slam on the table as you rush to exclaim, “Rosalie!”

It was pouring uncontrollably. The cup of tea was warm in your hands, but you couldn’t bring yourself to drink it when a strange woman sat across you, staring.

“Does it not taste right?” she asked. “Or are the clothes uncomfortable?”

The clothes were comfortable, but her eagerness to please you wasn’t. It was unsettling. Reminded you too much of someone. You had been thinking about how to tell her that she should throw away the clothes you were wearing previously—you’d rather dig up a hole and bury yourself there than see it again and relive everything.

The tea was starting to feel too heated. You flinched away, and some liquid splattered on the white tablecloth. You froze, stammering a weak, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling gently. Her smile was somehow warmer than your drink. “You don’t have to drink it, but it could help you warm up. Set it down on the table for a while.”

You later learned her name was Rosalie. She owned this flower shop, though it hadn’t been doing well recently. All of the flowers looked lifeless and wilted. She was about to throw away the flowers outside before she saw you.

She never demanded why you were outside, alone, with ice on your arms. She never looked at you wrong. There had to be a catch that you were missing. But there was a thunderstorm outside, and you had an inkling that Lyney wouldn’t be above looking for you in the pouring rain. You didn’t want to risk it and find out, either.

Rosalie glanced at you, sensing your apprehension. “Do you have anywhere else to go for the night?”

You hesitated. You were raised to be a liar. But did you even have a reason to lie anymore? Quietly, you murmured, “No.”

Rosalie nodded in understanding, even though she didn’t know anything. “Then, would you please do me a favor and rest here for the time being?”

Why would it be a favor to her? What kind of manipulation tactic was this?

Rosalie laughed at whatever face you were making. “It would make me feel a whole lot better if I didn’t send out a child during this storm.”

Ah. That made more sense. Although it felt like she was still trying to appease you, it was a sufficient explanation you could believe.

You sipped your tea and felt a little less cold—if not for yourself, then for this strange but nice woman.

For the first time in a long time, you slept somewhere unfamiliar. You were too tired to argue last night about who was going to take Rosalie’s bed; honestly, you might have passed out mid-word from exhaustion. Rosalie’s bed was like a cloud—tearing your eyes open pained you physically.

And to make it worse, you didn’t want to wake up. Would Rosalie walk you back to the orphanage now that the sun was shining? Would you have to face ‘Father’s disappointment? Would you have to face Lynette’s? Freminet’s? Lyney’s?

The door creaked and you hurried to flutter your eyes shut, the hair on the back of your arms standing. You listened closely to the click-click-click of heels that inched closer to your vulnerable, supposedly asleep body. Your fists clenched, preparing to summon your weapon if necessary.

Instead, you felt the weight of… something warm settle beside you.

“Wake up soon,” Rosalie whispered. “The food will get cold.”

Yet she didn’t wait for a response. You heard her heels fade away as the door clicked shut.

You turned to your side and came face-to-face with a tray of breakfast. It was still warm. Everything about this place and the strange woman felt warm. You could’ve just been hungry, but it looked different from any food you used to be served with.

(It tasted twice as good, too.)

Rosalie gazes into the depths of nothingness. Her senses creep back to her, her limbs ache, and she cries out for help. Her first instinct is to move, but then she realizes she cannot. A sliver of light floods the floor from the crack of the door, but she doesn’t need her eyes to figure out she is tied to a chair.

Before she could react, a flashlight was pointed at her face. Fear churns inside her like thunder rumbling.

“You know what we’re here for,” the voice says, deep and impatient. “You’re lucky you managed to get this far without anyone killing you first."

Rosalie watches them warily. She doesn’t want to speak.

Then a new voice chimes in, much more feminine, yet also as unfriendly. “The kid. Tell us where you hid her.”

Rosalie frowns. “Kid?”

“Don’t act stupid,” the woman says. “The kid you adopted.”

Rosalie forces her expression to fall into something more blank. She does know what they’re talking about. Although you’re no longer a kid, you’re Rosalie’s kid, not theirs. Her arms are starting to numb from the tightness of the ropes. She has to leave now.

“You think acting dumb will save you? We already have proof you have the kid. You know who we are?” The man directed the flashlight to their outfits. Had Rosalie not been biting her lip so hard it was bleeding, she would’ve gasped. “We’re not someone you want to piss off.”

“Who would’ve thought; the Fatui kidnapping a woman who was never involved with the likes of you,” Rosalie says bitterly. She tastes blood on her tongue and can only hope they don’t see how she’s trembling. She has to be strong for you—one crack and you’d be in danger.

The woman with the purple hood sneers, “You’ve gotten yourself involved the moment you kept that House runt.”

Rosalie is a little bit lost. “What do you mean?”

When Lyney asked for your presence at the banquet, you turned to Rosalie for help. She was more than pleased about this; seeing her fret over you with such passion was warming.

You felt a little stupid dressing up this much. You reasoned to yourself—and to anyone who would ask—that it was to fit in, but Rosalie made a comment about how it seemed like you were off to impress someone, and it has not left your mind since.

Who would you even impress? The other orphans? The wealthy old men who would undoubtedly eye you up? Lyney? The thought had your face flame up for a reason you didn’t want to investigate. Would Lyney also wear something different? (Would Lyney notice it if you wore something different…?)

The polearm he had gifted lay in the corner of the room. You could easily look at it from here.

As she styled your hair, you found yourself blurting out a stupid question: "Have you ever been in love before?"

"Oh?" Rosalie's smirk could be seen in the mirror. "Who is it? Don't tell me it's that Outlander boy—Aether."

"What? No."

Rosalie nodded, satisfied. "He doesn't seem like the type of boy to settle."

You wondered if Lyney was the type to settle. Then you ended up wondering if Lyney still liked you enough or was just keeping a facade; Lyney wasn't above sweet-talking. It was part of his job.

"Well," Rosalie sighed wistfully. “I’ve had conversations with countless men and women that might have led to something deeper, but I never could find myself committing to it.”

She brushed your hair gently like you imagined a mother who loved you would. “Instead, I fell in love with the articles featuring different places. Mondstadt caught my eye the most—with their Windwheel Asters. Imagine running through a field of them as they spin along with the Mondsadt wind!”

Rosalie’s eyes were sparkling; you could tell, even from the mirror. They looked so far away as if imagining what it would be like. “Having them stored neatly in pots and vases didn’t feel the same,” she said.

"Really? Then..." Your face fell. Were you keeping Rosalie here? Was it your fault that she never got to explore?

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true,” Rosalie said, pausing from brushing your hair to press her cheek against yours. “I also fell in love with something else one rainy day—an adorable little girl I swore I would care for as if she were my own. You aren’t keeping me bound, ma chérie.”

You held her gaze through the mirror, awestruck.

Rosalie smiled warmly, pecking your cheek. “I thought I was just sick of Fontaine—my own home. But I know if I leave you to fend for yourself, I’d get homesick.”

You and Aether reached the shop, but—

You know what it would look like, yet the sight of a chair toppled over doesn’t make it any easier. Your eyes sting the longer you look at it. Was Rosalie struggling? Were her cries muffled? Was she screaming for help while you were out drinking?

Aether warns you of any traps, but all they left is a hole in your chest at the dull air of the shop.

“She’s not—she’s not here,” you breathe. It’s the obvious, it’s clear as day: Rosalie’s been taken hostage. You should’ve seen this coming. Your past will never leave you. You should’ve never gotten involved with innocent Rosalie—you only deceived her—

“Y/N.” Aether’s voice is only a whisper, but you jolt out of your thoughts anyway. “Do you need to sit down? You’re shaking.”

Your eyes slip downwards and realize that the floor had been iced over. Some of the flowers freeze, then crumble.

You look away, ashamed to have shown your face to Aether when you’re vulnerable like a pathetic little child. “I can’t just sit down while Rosalie is out there, Aether. I can’t.”

Aether doesn’t look pleased, but he nods in understanding. “Should we get the Gardes involved?”

This would involve the Fatui—Lyney, the orphans, The Knave. Why would you drag other innocent people into this mess, too?

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I don’t know if it would make it worse.”

Rosalie couldn’t understand a thing. These Fatui were telling her that you were a Fatuu in an orphanage called the House of the Hearth and that you betrayed them and got Rosalie involved with the bounty painted on your back. But it would explain why you were alone and didn’t have anywhere else to go, why you had bruises and scars all over, and why you had the eyes of a seasoned warrior even as a child.

But she couldn’t understand why you never told her. Were you afraid of her? Did she give you a reason not to trust her?

Her chest aches, ashamed at her ignorance.

Then she blinks at the flood of light. The knife on her neck is promptly removed; and when she looks around wildly, she realizes that the Fatui were on either side of her, bowing deeply.

Her eyes couldn’t adjust right away, only processing a blur of a tall figure. The figure made its way towards Rosalie; she won’t admit it, but she’s terrified. But then the figure kneeled before her and presented a flower.

Rosalie’s eyes widen. “You’re—the woman with the Sneznhayan—”

The Knave’s dark eyes pierce through Rosalie’s. “I believe I owe you a talk, at the very least.”

notes omg hi lmk what u think! for me i think it was... very messy... and its about to get messier!!!!! but i hope u guys at least enjoyed:D tysm for reading! and reblogs and comments will get u a kiss from thawed!mc and lyney trust

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#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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ysrjune · 25 days

Text

Tell Me What You Want

pairing - scott monroe, sam monroe 🍒

summary - sam and scott are twins, both have a crush on you

part 3! of tell me what you want

Monday. Ugh, even though it's summer, Mondays still sucked. You start off your day just like any other.. shower, eat breakfast, and continue your day with whatever. Usually, you'd go see Scott, but.. you couldn't bring yourself to face him after everything you did with Sam. “He's never gonna know.” You think to yourself over and over again. It didn't help much. Just knowing you did all that after making out with Scott was eating you up. This was definitely not something you could just ignore. It's the kind of guilt that would haunt you forever.

You did everything but interact with the Monroe family all day.. all week. It was unusual. Even Chris asked you why you weren't over at their house. You made up the excuse of just being lazy about going over, and of course he believed you since he doesn't really care much. Scott didn't text you. Sam didn't text you. It made you paranoid. What if Sam told Scott what happened and that's why he hasn't texted you? Maybe he hates you now and never wants to see you again.

That's crazy. You're being crazy. No way Sam told Scott. He said it himself! He wouldn't say anything cause he'd end up hating him! That thought comforted you just a little bit. You eventually forget about it for a couple of hours since you kept yourself busy with things around the house. Doing dishes, laundry, cleaning the whole house—but that was until your phone vibrated in your back pocket. You immediately thought of Scott. Maybe he texted.

You pull your phone out from your pocket and look at the notification. It wasn't Scott. It was just a notification from Instagram informing you that someone liked your post. You groan and throw your phone on the couch, so if you got any other notifications, you wouldn't know. It took almost 3 hours to clean the downstairs part of your house. Then 2 for the upstairs. Once you finished you go to your room and take a nap for at least an hour and a half.

It was now the early afternoon when you woke up. Chris had left a note on your desk on top of some food he bought you. “You didn't answer your phone when I texted you if you wanted something to eat so I got you some anyway. I know you're sad, but I don't know why. Whatever it is, don't talk to me about it. Love you though!” Your brother can not be sweet all at once. He always has to throw in some kind of childish joke in there. You still appreciate his act, though.

Next door there was a party going on. It was Mrs. Monroe's birthday, so she invited her and her husband's side of the family to come over and celebrate. You wonder why you weren't invited. You look to your nightstand again to grab your phone but notice it's not there. Ugh, you left it on the couch STUPID BITCH anyways um yeah you get up and quickly retrieve your phone and open it—revealing a bunch of unread messages from a couple of people.

“Aubree sent 4+ messages”

“Ferny sent a reel by ..”

“Lupe sent 5 attachments”

But one specific notification caught your eye.

“2 Messages from Scotty”

You quickly open it and see an image with his moms party invitation. It had the home address, time, and the obvious ‘You're invited to Robin Monroe’s Birthday’ text on the top.

“You should really come over, Angel. I miss you.” Was the text he sent along with the invite. He definitely didn't know what was going on since he added ‘I miss you.’ You wanted to surprise him, so you just left him on read. You hoped he wouldn't see that he was left on read just in case he thought you were ignoring him.

You took another shower and dolled yourself up. You wore a pretty dress that didn't reveal a lot. Your cleavage was sort of showing but that's just how the dress was. You put on a comfortable pair of shoes/heels and went over. The side door that led to the back of the house was open, so you assumed that was the entrance.

You entered and recognized a bunch of their family members. You said hi to some of them, like the boys’ cousins that you got along with, some of their aunts and uncles, and of course the grandparents. You were looking around for Scott. Specifically Scott. You didn't care about Sam. He already told you what you two did was a one time thing, so you already made up your mind about ignoring your feelings for him and allowing yourself to fall for Scott, properly.

Truth be told, Scott knew you were there the second you arrived. He was just nervous to go up to you. You hadn't spoken in a week, so he assumed you were mad but only came over for the sake of his mom. That was until Sam went up to him and talked him into going to you.

“Stop being a bitch, she came for you.” He was definitely high. “You don't know that. What if she only came to wish mom a happy birthday?” Scott replies, his eyes still on you while you talk with his cousins. “Ohh, my God, Scott. If you don't go up to her now, you're gonna come take shots with me.” Sam slurred out a sentence.

“Okay, let's go. Which bott—” Sam rolled his eyes and dragged him by the wrist to you. “Hi, Y/n. Scotty has something to tell you, bye.” Sam said and walked away to go hangout with his other cousins that came over. The girls you hung out with laughed at their cousin for the way that he was so nervous. “Hi, Scotty.” You gave him a warm smile.

“Hi, Angel..” He muttered, blushing. This made the girls tease him by saying “Aww!” in unison. He glared at them, making him giggle and stay quiet after that. “Didn't think you were coming over..” He looked back at you. “You missed me, so why wouldn’t I be here?” You stand up and take his hand. “Come on, let's go catch up.” You tell him, glancing over to the girls who were smiling at you two.

“Why didn't you come over?” He asked while leading you to the very back where only very few people were. You both sat down on a lawn chair, next to each other. “I dunno. There's no reason. I just didn't come over, I guess.” You smiled, using his phrase.

He caught that and it made him smile, looking down at his lap. “I guess, huh?” He replied, to which you nodded. From there, more conversations sprung out. You laughed, gossiped, and a whole bunch of other things. You two eventually got in a group with all his cousins.. which were at least 12 other people. 9 boys, and 3 girls. Sam was there, too, but he was too high to even be awkward with you after what happened.

Everyone played games like uno, musical chairs, truth or dare, cards against humanity—someone even convinced the whole group to play twister. It was super fun. Sam and Scott were the last 2 to go after the last chair in musical chairs. Sam won.. only cause he literally shoved Scott away to the couch so he wouldn't get the chair.

Truth or dare? Jerry, one of the cousins, had to drink 5 shots without stopping. Alicia won 2 rounds of uno in a row. Scott fell on top of you while playing twister. You could probably imagine how cards against humanity went.

It was time to sing happy birthday to Robin. The boys and their dad were next to her while singing happy birthday. Sam had the brilliant idea of shoving his moms face in the cake. Good thing she did it back. Even better that they had a whole extra cake..

Everyone laughed at Sam. Scott was laughing the hardest.. and you could guess what happened. His mom shoved his face in the cake, too. Pictures and videos were taken of everything happening.

The twins went upstairs to clean themselves up while everyone else returned to the living room to continue messing around. The night was great, but it had to come to an end. Little by little, people left, making the group smaller until everyone was gone. Sam was in his room, and you went to Scotts with him. He was babbling to you about a bunch of things, and you listened to it all.

Things went quiet for a little bit. It wasn't awkward, though. You broke the silence eventually. “Scott, there's something I need to ask.” “yeah?”

“Do you still have feelings for me?” You mumbled. What a stupid question. Scott chuckled and shook his head slowly. “Y/n, i'm never gonna get over you whether you like it or not. I'm sorry, it's just.. something about you is so irresistible. But like I said, its okay that you don't like me back. We're friends, and that's all that matters.”

“Well, about that.. I actually do like you. Scott, I've always liked you back. I just wasn't ready for a relationship. But.. I wanna give it a chance now.” You tell him, looking down at the floor. This is big news for Scott. His heartbeat sped up, his palms got a little sweaty.. he felt like a 14 year old, shy kid all over again. “Y/n, this isn't funny. Don't mess with me like that.” He looked you in the eye.

“It's not a joke, Scott. I wanna be your girlfriend.” You hold eye contact. It takes him a couple of seconds to react to what you just said. He was just staring at you before cracking a smile. “Well, okay then. You're my girlfriend now, I guess.”

“I guess so.” You smiled back and held his hand. “Are you really sure, though? You're not just saying this cause you feel bad? Or because you're bored and wanna do something different with your life..” Poor boy.

“Scott, I wanna be your girlfriend because I realized that you're the only guy who actually wanted to stay friends with me after I rejected you. You weren't awkward, you didn't kick me out of your house, your attitude didnt change—you stayed my friend. You're genuinely the sweetest guy I've ever met.”

All of that makes him smile. “Okay, I believe you.”

“Good.” You say quietly, your eyes flickering to his lips. He does the same, except he actually started leaning in for a kiss. You smile a little bit, closing your eyes, and sealing the kiss.

It was sweet and slow. Scott's always been a great kisser. You have to admit it. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, as did his to yours. He sucked on your tongue and bottom lip—along with softly biting it. The kiss got really heated cause you ended up on top of him again. Everything that happened last time happened again, except this time you went a little further.

His door was locked, blinds shut, the room was literally only lit with candles! The orange hue making Scotts face look so pretty. Perfect setting.

You didn't have sex at first—but did everything else. First, you rolled your hips on his clothless cock while your panties were still on so he could get hard. At first, he was being your little submissive bitch. Moaning and whimpering quietly since his brother and parents were home. His pink, plump lips being bitten by his teeth, trying his best to keep quiet. His hand grabbing onto your bare tit.

“So, so pretty, baby. Makin’ me feel so good..” He panted. He was so desperate to cum right now, so he pushed the front of your panties to the side and started thrusting his dick into your clit. Your clit was so puffy and red, it made him feel so good. So good that he had to cover his mouth with his other hand because he was moaning so much. Once he was close to cumming, that whole sub act was over. He grasped your hips tightly and started thrusting harder into you. Moans replaced with Grunts. He was hot when he was needy, but this.. damn.

You came in your panties, but some of that relief went into your clit, making Scott smirk and let out an “Mhm, yeah, angel? came for me already? so wet.” He eventually came all over your clit with a groan. “Lay down.”

The second thing he did was eat you out. He stuffed your own panties into your mouth as a gag to quiet you down. “mhm, mhm.” he mumbled over and over again while he tongue fucked you. He made you cum so quick eith his tongue, but that wasnt the end of it. He used his fingers as well. Needless to say, he was honestly doing a better job than Sam.. but you didn't think about it so much because thinking of his brother in this moment is not okay.

He moaned into your clit while his fingers curled in you. He was being sweet right now. Kissing your clit all over, occasionally sucking on it.. he was so pussy drunk.

Third thing that happened was you sucking his dick. He was in between sub and dom in that moment. Letting out whines but choking you on his cock while his legs shaked. Sucking the tip and stroking the rest really got him cumming quick.

Lastly, he didnt wanna be the last one to cum. So he sat you on his lap again and finally gave in. He stuck his cock in you with your hand covering his mouth because he was whimpering and moaning again. Muffled cries and babbling.

“Mmph—you're so tight.”

“pleasepleaseplease”

“yesyesyes, ride me like that, baby. cum all over my dick, please..”

He lasted 10 minutes before cumming in you. you were okay with that. you'd pick up a plan b or something later on. It was crazy that nobody caught you because Scotts bed was squeaking, and his headboard was softly hitting the wall.

He didn't let you go. He made you stay overnight. “Not letting my girl leave like that after I fucked her..” he smirked into your neck. “gotta take care of my baby.” You never expected him to be so good at this. You didn't even know he wasn't a virgin before this. But, hey, how could you be mad at him? He tried so badly to get over you, so he had to date a couple girls and fuck 2 of them to try and forget about you.. but he couldn't.

Morning rolled in, and Scott was up before you were. When you woke up, he was on his phone, sitting on his gaming chair. “Morning, pretty.” He smiled once he noticed you were up. “Went over to your house to pick up clean clothes and your shower stuff.” What a sweetheart.

You got up, naked.. He took a good look, then looked at your face. “Wanna give me a kiss before you shower?” He asks. You rolled your eyes and did what he suggested, and of course, he had to hold onto your tits while you kissed him.

After your shower, you go down for breakfast with his family. It was actually normal. No one suspected a thing. Not even Sam. They didn't even know you slept over. They thought you just got there really early before anyone else came out of their room.

After breakfast, Scott and you went out to the mall to hang out. You posted a photo of him sipping on some soda with a cutesy song in the background. A lot of your friends replied with things like “finally” or “y/n single era over” and a bunch of dumb stuff like that.

Your date with him went great. It ended with him leaving you at your door and kissing before he let you go for the night.

okay yay we're done with part 3 😜

i wanna thank @lunalitva for giving me the idea of reader letting herself fall for scott. that wasn't the whole idea they gave me, though. the second part of it will be in part 4. 💞

@espinathena-17 @sockiess @gyxah @heartsforanakin @ashisabitgay 🎀

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen imagines #hayden christensen fanfic #life as a house #higher ground #sam monroe #scott barringer #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x you #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer imagine #scott barringer smut #scott barringer x you #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe smut #sam monroe imagine

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