#but I do love the people I work with. there’s like 3 I can’t stand. but there’s a few that make me ok with working so many hours per week

[jordyn14]

would you write a story where Y/n and Joe are arguing because Joe is making some bad friends and she doesn't want to be around because she's pregnant or something... But in the end everything ends well

Pairing: Joe burrow x fem first person

Words: 4113

Notes: I kind of changed this around slightly to make this a little more emotional and heartfelt, but I tried to stay on track with the request. I hope you enjoy! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

I got into my car after working out for the millionth time this week. Normally I would go once, maybe twice a week depending on how my pregnant body felt, but lately, I’ve been going every single day. Why have I been going every single day? To get out of my house. Ever since Joe’s season ending wrist injury, he’s been hanging out with the wrong people. I get why he’s needed an outlet and a group of friends that can take his mind off of it. I do. I get that the injury took a toll on him physically and especially mentally, but right now, I can’t stand to be anywhere his friends are, and they’ve been coming over the house so often, even just to pick Joe up and take him somewhere.

Most of the time they come home drunk and high, and I don’t need nor want that, especially since Joe and I are expecting a baby in a few months. When I told Joe that I was glad that his new friends were helping him take his mind off of it all, I meant it because I thought it would be good for him in the long run, but I was very, very wrong. I found that out when they first got in trouble with the law for the first time. Joe swore it would be the last time, but then it happened again. The last thing I wanted was for Joe to end up in jail or suspended for a few games.

While I headed home, I was hopeful that his friends wouldn’t be over the house and that I would get to spend some quality time with Joe, because right now, that’s all I wanted. This first pregnancy is currently kicking my butt and all I want to do is be with my husband since he’s been in Arizona with his friends this past weekend, which means I haven’t seen him in a few days.

As I merged onto the freeway, I got a call from Joe. With a smile, I grabbed my phone so the music could still play and excitedly answered it. “Hey Joey, I should be home soon. Did you just get home?” I asked him with a big smile on my face. “Hey baby. I can’t wait to see you, it feels like it’s been forever.” Joe said. Hmm, maybe because it has been forever. For the last two weekends he’s been in another state. “We just got home and immediately jumped into the pool. Granted, it’s a lot colder here than in Arizona so we’re kinda cold.” Joe chuckled. We? You’ve got to be kidding me. I pulled the phone away from my ear and started laughing a little bit, unable to hide how annoyed I was. “They’re all at the house? Haven’t you spend enough time with them?” I asked Joe.

Even though my voice was filled with annoyance, he still was oblivious to just how much I hated them. “Probably, but they wanted to swim some more, so I invited them over.” Joe said. In the background, I could hear beer cans getting crushed and shook my head. “Are you drinking beer already? It’s 11am.” I asked Joe. In the background, I not only could hear beer cans being crush, but I also could hear a lot of commotion and water splashing.

“I’m not, but the guys are. They’re fucking hilarious.” Joe said and laughed at something one of them did on the other end of the phone. I rolled my eyes and said, “I’m about to get off of the freeway, I’ll be home in like 5 minutes.” I said and hung up before he could say anything else. More than anything, I wanted to come home to my husband without them being there. I wanted Joe to wrap me in his arms like he does after a long game or a long weekend away from me and hear him repeat the words ‘I love you,’ over and over again as he kisses me. I just wanted some alone time, and on top of that, I wanted to know my husband was being safe.

I pulled into our driveway and pulled into the only spot that was left since there were 3 other cars that weren’t supposed to be here. As soon as I opened the door, I could hear them in the backyard yelling and having what they thought was a great time. This may seem like fun for some people, hell, it would’ve been fun to me…about 4 years ago. But with where we are at in our lives, and with the image that Joe has to uphold at all times, he can’t be doing this. He can’t be going out with people that are constantly doing things that can trash his name, because when he comes to terms with just how lousy he’s been acting, it may be too late.

When I walked inside, I headed for the back door and tried to put on my best fake smile. The last thing I wanted was to get into a fight right here and now about it, but that day would definitely come. It had to come. I just didn’t know when. Putting my hand on the door handle, I hesitated for a few seconds before slowly opening it up. Right when Joe heard the door open from in the deep end of the pool, he immediately jumped out and began to run over to me. “Finally! I missed you both!” Joe yelled as he ran, looking to me and to my stomach where his little boy was.

When he reached me, he picked me up and spun me around a little bit. I couldn’t contain the giggles as I clung onto his wet and muscular body. “We missed you too, Joey.” I said with a laugh as he set me down on the ground. Once on the ground, I couldn’t help but stare at him, in awe of how he looked. Not only was he only in swim trunks which revealed the most perfect amount of leg, ab, back, and arm muscles, but his hair looked amazing. Like most off seasons, he was growing out his hair, so his wet curls were hanging on his forehead and the hair in the back was wild from getting wet. Instinctively, I reached up and ran my fingers through his curls and then let my hand run down his arm.

All joe did was look me up and down before he cupped the side of my face with one hand and the other was wrapped around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as our lips connected and arched my back with the faintest moan as he kissed me hard. From the noise I made, Joe smiled into the kiss before we were interrupted by all three of the guys screaming, “get a room!” The both of us pulled away from each other and laughed at the guys reaction. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought. “Oh shut up.” I laughed while rolling my eyes at them.

Two out of the three of them got out of the pool and started to dry off slightly before plopping themselves down into the chairs my best friend and I tan in during the summer. “How was your workout? Let’s see those muscles.” Joe joked and gave my arm a little squeeze. “Well, it was going good until the very end when our little crazy pants in here decided it would be a good idea to keep jabbing me in the rib cage.” I said and looked down at my stomach. Joe chuckled and put both of his hands on my stomach so he could try and feel our little boy kick. I studied Joes face, waiting for him to feel the kicks, and after a few seconds, his face lit up and he looked at me with the most amazing smile. “Oh wow, he’s kicking. Our little man is so strong,” Joe said, looking at me and then my stomach in awe, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

I smiled up at Joe and let him feel his son kick in my stomach for a little while longer. Ever since Joe felt him kick for the first time, he’s been obsessed with feeling him kick. Before he leaves to go anywhere, or even go to sleep, he wants to feel his little boy kick first and talk to him so he knows what his voice sounds like. It’s adorable watching Joe transform into a dad, and I can’t wait until the day comes when he can hold his baby boy for the first time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of Joe’s friends lighting a joint when I specifically told all of them not to a million times. Edibles was one thing, but I really did not want the yard and our clothes smelling like weed. It’s not like I mind them getting high, especially Joe since I know it helps him calm down, but they go completely overboard with it. Almost every time I see them they are faded and despite me telling them not do, the house still smells like weed when I come home sometimes. It’s just gotten out of hand.

Although I was annoyed and wanted nothing more than to never see them again, I tried to shake it off and act like everything was fine for Joe’s sake. As long as they didn’t take it inside. “Do you want to sit down? Your back probably hurts.” Joe said. “That sounds amazing. Your son is being a pain today.” I sighed out and was immediately escorted to another chair by Joe who kept his hand on my lower back the whole time. When I sat down, Joe made sure I didn’t need anything else and then sat down in the chair next to me. “So, did Joe tell you what happened this weekend?” One of Joes friends asked who was laying out on one of the sun tanning chairs while smoking a joint. With a skeptical look, I shook my head and then looked at Joe. I swear to god if he did anything illegal. “No, what did you do?” I asked Joe who looked like he wanted to keep it a secret. “Joey B decided to get drunk and pass out right in front of a police officer.” The other friend said who grabbed the other one’s joint and started to smoke it. I looked over at Joe with a glare on my face and tried my best not to get angry until they left. “How fun. At least you didn’t get thrown in jail.” I said with a fake laugh and then continued to glare at his friends.

While two of them were getting high, the other one was floating on a raft in the pool with some sunglasses on, probably already drunk, knowing them. “You seem uptight, take a hit. It’ll be good for you.” The friend said that was currently holding the joint said. I rolled my eyes with a small smile, thinking he was joking, but he obviously wasn’t since his hand stayed outstretched towards me. While I looked at him, thinking it was a joke, he shrugged a little bit. With a scoff, I shook my head and said, “excuse me? You know I’m pregnant, right?” From next to me, Joe put his hand by his mouth and was about to intervene when I glared at him. No way he was letting this one go. I was so sick and tired of them always being around Joe and me, and making Joe do stupid and illegal things.

“What? My baby mama did it when she was pregnant. Granted, that little bitch of a son is practically a 13 year old drug dealer at his school.” He laughed. With another scoff, I stood up and started to quickly walk over to him. All he did was stare up at me with a confused look on his face as I stormed over to him. As soon as I got to him, I snatched the joint right out of his hand and tossed it on the concrete and smashed it into the ground with my shoe. “Get off of my fucking property. All of you.” I said and looked between the both of them who just stared up at me in shock, then over to Joe. “Don’t look at him, look at me, I’m the one talking. And if you didn’t hear me the first time, I said get off of my property!” I raised my voice at them.

This time, they got the hint and stood up from the chairs. “Your wife is fucking crazy dude. She ain’t any fun.” One of them said as they made their way to the gate which led to the front yard. “Don’t talk about her that way.” Joe stood up for me while he stood up from his chair, though I could tell he was angry with me that I kicked them out. After they left for the front yard, I walked over to the in ground pool where the last one was swimming. “It’s time to go!” I yelled at him. Just as I said this, Joe came over and put his hand on my arm to try and stop me, but I yanked my hand away from him. “What are you doing?” Joe asked me. I looked up at him with a glare on my face and he looked down at me like I was the one in the wrong. I looked him up and down with a scoff and then angrily looked back over to his friend that was fast asleep on the raft.

Not wanting to wait for him to wake up, I leaned down and picked up an empty beer can that one of them smashed and threw it at the guy and hit him in the face with it. Right when it hit him, he leaned forwards with a small scream, not expecting to be hit by anything, and fell off of the raft into the cold water. “What the fuck?” He asked and yanked his sunglasses off of his face which how had a broken lens. “It’s time to go.” I said and started to gather up all of the beer cans from the ground that they left. “I’m drunk, what am I supposed to do?” He asked as he started to walk up the stairs. “Do you have a phone?” I asked him while stopping to look at him for a second. After he nodded, I said, “great, then call an Uber or walk home for all I care. Do anything but stay here.” While he got out of the pool, he scoffed at me, so I flipped him off before I bent down and started to pick up some of the beer cans they left on the ground.

While I picked up the beer cans and tried to make the yard look like it did before they came over, Joe just stood there with his hands on his hips, looking at me with a confused and angry look on his face. After I picked up the last can and threw it in the outside trash bin, I turned to look at him. “What was that? Why did you do that?” Joe asked me. I widened my eyes at him and scoffed while shaking my head. “You aren’t serious, right? Tell me you’re joking.” I said. Joe just shrugged, waiting for me to tell him why. “He offered you a joint, all you had to say was no, not freak out like you did and kick them all out.” Joe said, trying his best to give them the benefit of the doubt. That’s all he’s been doing these past few months. Always giving them excuse after excuse so he doesn’t look like a complete dick for hanging around them.

I guess we’re doing this now. “This wasn’t just from him offering me weed, this is from everything. Every single thing that they’ve done that I’ve ignored for your sake.” I said. “Oh so we’re doing this? We’re making this a thing? No way.” Joe said with a scoff and started to storm towards the door. As he passed me, he looked me up and down with a pissed look on his face. “We are so doing this, Joe, because it’s been a thing, for months now. You’re just too blind to see it apparently.” I said and followed after him as he walked inside, trying to get away from me since he didn’t want that confrontation.

Even though I followed Joe inside and wanted to have this conversation with him, he was still in denial, and pretended like I wasn’t even there. I watched as he went into the kitchen and started to rummage around the cupboards. “Excuse me? Now you’re ignoring me?” I asked him and walked over to him. When I said this, he closed the cupboard he was looking inside of and turned around to face me. “I don’t know what you are getting at right now? This hasn’t been a thing!” Joe said, raising his voice slightly. “Yes it has Joe. It’s been a thing since you started hanging around them after your wrist injury!” I said, raising my voice right back at him.

All joe did was scoff and walk away from me. “Come back here right now. We are having this conversation, whether you like it or not.” I said and turned around. Joe stopped right in his tracks and then slowly turned around to face me. I took a step closer to him while saying, “ever since your wrist injury, you have been hanging around them, and it isn’t good. They aren’t good people and it kills me that you are so blind to that.” I said. As soon as I said this, it looked like something clicked in him, like he was finally waking up to something, but he still shook his head, somewhat in denial, or at least that’s what it looked like. “They aren’t bad people just because they don’t like or don’t do the same things you do!” Joe raised his voice at me. “Two out of three of them have been to jail, the other has had multiple DUI’s and something that should’ve been a felony. But yeah, they totally aren’t bad people.” I said with a hint of sarcasm in my voice at the last part.

Joe started to bite on the inside of his cheek as he listened to what I had to say. Then, he looked down at the ground and took a deep breath. “If you don’t want to be around them, I won’t have them over the house anymore.” Was all he said as he continued to look at the ground. “I don’t want to be around them, but I also don’t want them around you.” I said. Joe looked up at me and said quietly, “they help.” My heart ached for him. I know how hard it was for him to have his second season ending injury in just two years. I did. I get that he was exhausting. But this has to stop before it’s too late. “They aren’t good people, Joe. I don’t want to see you turn into them.” I said.

“I would never turn into them and you know that. Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean I have to stop hanging out with them.” Joe said, fighting back. “Really? Because before you started hanging out with them, you never got in trouble for anything. But right after you met them, boom, you started to have run ins with the police.” I said. “They were over stupid things! That doesn’t count!” Joe yelled slightly. “Those things aren’t stupid Joe! You would’ve never, ever done those things a year ago.” I told him. “What? So now you wish I would change and go back to the way I was? Am I not good enough now?” Joe asked me. I took another step towards him and let out a sigh. I had no clue what to do.

“You will always be good enough, Joe, but you’re going down a dark path, and I’m scared that when you do finally wake up and realize the kind of people you’ve been hanging around, it may already be too late.” I said. Joe looked at the ground as he furrowed his brows. “I know that they aren’t the best people, but they really did help.” Joe said. My heart skipped a beat in my chest and I sucked in a breath. This was the first time in months that he’s actually accepted that they were bad people and didn’t make excuses for them. Now all I needed to do was push a little bit more. “I get that your injury was hard on you physically and mentally. I get that maybe I wasn’t enough for you and only they could help, but they aren’t good people Joe, and I’m honestly scared to raise a child around them…and you if you keep going down this path, although it’s not likely, you may end up in jail or suspended from the league.” I said, telling Joe the truth.

Joe looked up at me and shook his head repeatedly. “You were always enough. You helped me when nobody else could. I needed you, and will always need you.” Joe said. “Then why did you lean on them?” I asked, feeling my eyes prick with tears. Joe sighed, his shoulders hanging low. He looked so defeated. All I wanted to do was wrap him in my arms and tell him everything was going to be alright. “Would you believe me if I said I don’t know? Because I don’t know. I don’t know why I started using them as an outlet, I just did, and it felt good because I didn’t have to think about the possibility of never being able to throw a football again. All I know right now is that I love you and our baby with all of my heart and I am so incredibly sorry for everything.” Joe said, looking at me with those bright and tear filled blue eyes. Sucking in my lips slightly, I nodded and closed to distance between us, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You don’t have to be sorry, Joey, I know how hard this has been for you, I just want you to realize that you’re going down a dark path and that you need to turn around before it’s too late.” I said. Joe wrapped his arms around my waist and held me against him tightly while sniffling into my hair. “I promise you, I’m never seeing them again. You and this baby are all I need and I’m sorry if I may have forgotten that with everything that’s been going on.” Joe said. “It’s okay, Joey. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. But please, talk to me if you need to. Don’t keep things bottled up, and don’t fall into the wrong crowd when you need an escape.” I said. “I promise you, baby. I know I’ve been such an asshole lately and haven’t been home that much, but please forgive me if you can, because I am so sorry.” Joe said. “Of course I forgive you. No matter what happens, you’re still my husband and I will always love you. Even if you passed out in front of a cop.” I laughed and pulled away from Joe to look into his eyes.

Joe put both of his hands on the sides of my face and swiped his thumbs under my eyes to catch my tears while chuckling at what I said. “Good, because I would be lost without you.” Joe said. As we looked into each other’s eyes, I couldn’t help but let out a small sob. It took everything in me not to have this conversation with him sooner, but I think it was good that I waited until he could realize for himself just how extensive it was getting. I know the injury was hard on him and that he needed an escape from reality sometimes, but he was finally back. My husband was finally back. “I missed you.” I whispered to him. “I missed me too.” Joe sighed and rested his head on mine.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 3 :

Heaven being a hot tennis (sorta) gf before she saw her (sorta) man lose:

Note: Okay, once again, thank you so much for the love you guys have shown this story. I'm really inspired by Challengers right now and think I have a lot of ideas for this story. Once again, this oc is not meant to be perfect, she is just as messy and just as young as the characters in the movie. She is a college student and will act like an (albeit messy) one. I'm very grateful for all of the replies, likes, reblogs and interaction in general. It really inspires me to see what you all think and see that people are enjoying it. Regarding the tag list, I am going to try this again, but for some reason, every time I do it seems to not work for people, so let me know if it works this time. Finally, MDNI, like for real, not playing, stay out of grown folks business, if I find out you'll be blocked. Love you all and hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Sexual content, strong language, slight themes of cheating(idk if it counts yet)

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams @butterflyybabe @sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384

“Holy shit.” Tashi murmurs under her breath as she climbs the cobblestone walkway to the address Heaven had given her. This was gonna be their first time hanging outside of the gym or school. Tashi knew they lived in different neighborhoods, but they share a school zone, she hadn’t realized Heaven’s family had money. The girl didn’t seem different from her. They both liked the same games, same music minus the classical that she kept playing that Tashi found herself falling asleep to recently. 

She turns and waves to her dad, trying to encourage him to pull off before she rings the doorbell, sighing as he stubbornly remains still, watching her get up to the door from his car window. 

The large, wooden door opens as some obnoxious bell rings into the house, the noise spilling outside. The sound of heels clacking gets closer and closer until the door opens revealing a woman with a stern look on her face. Her brown hair is slicked back into a bun and she’s wearing a crisp white button down shirt with pressed jeans and heels. Tashi can’t remember the last time she’d seen her own mother wear heels. She looked so…put together. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Tashi Duncan. I’m Heaven’s friend, we go to school together. She hasn’t been in school the last few days, so I have her make-up work. I called and asked her if it was okay if I dropped it off and she said yes-”

“Heaven is training right now. I can take that, and she’ll be back in school when we get back from our trip.” The woman offers a smile but otherwise quickly takes the binder from Tashi’s hands and goes to retreat into the house only to be stopped by a voice behind her.

“Mom, wait-” Out from behind the woman comes Heaven. Her skin is glistening from sweat and her hair is curling at the nape. She’s dressed in a black leotard with worn, tan ballet shoes on her feet. She smiles brightly as she sees Tashi, pulling her into a hug despite her unkempt state. “Tashi, hey, thank you.” 

Tashi is almost hesitant to hug the girl back in front of her no nonsense appearing mother, but opts to return the hug regardless, letting Heaven intertwine their fingers as she pulls back. “No problem.”

Heaven’s brown eyes scan Tashi’s own outfit and her smile drops a little. “Were you about to go play tennis? Mom, Tashi’s the best tennis player ever. She’s gonna be like Serena Williams.” 

“Is that so?”  Heaven’s mom’s brow raises as she looks down at the girl standing at her door. 

Tashi got it. It sounds like a lofty goal. Even at such a young age, Tashi was confident in her abilities. She knows what she can do. But Mrs. Whitlock had never seen her play. If she did, she’d know that Tashi Duncan is tennis. For now, Heaven stating it like it’s a fact is enough to satisfy her. “I just got back from practicing. And yes, ma’am. I’m the best.” 

Mrs. Whitlock looks impressed at that, pursing her lips and nodding in approval before nudging her own daughter. “I’d bet she’s the best because she trains. Which is what you’re supposed to be doing.” 

Heaven bites her lip, rocking on her feet, causing her shoes to make a clack sound on the floor. “Can Tashi watch?” she grabs her mom’s sleeve and pleads harder at the disapproving look on her face. “Please? She’ll help. She helps me run drills at the gym all of the time. I haven’t gotten to see any friends all week. I’ll keep practicing, mom.” Her fingers tighten around Tashi’s in a way that has her clenching back, glancing at her Dad’s car to see him climbing out, noting that he probably hadn’t expected this to take so long. “Please, mom.”

“I can help, Mrs. Whitlock.” Tashi adds. “I promise, I won’t distract her.”

After some begging, from Heaven and promises to be useful from Tashi, Mrs. Whitlock allowed them 90 minutes. As long as Heaven kept practicing while Tashi was there.

Apparently, Heaven’s dance company was putting on Sleeping Beauty and this was the first year that Heaven has been old enough to play Aurora. Tashi learned that last year Heaven had been snubbed for Cinderella and made a Season Fairy instead. In Heaven’s words, if she ‘earned Cinderella, she should’ve been Cinderella’. But this year, there was no excuse. She was a little taller, she was 13 and she wouldn’t let them take it from her. 

“Again.” Tashi says, stepping away from Heaven, folding her arms. 

If she’d thought Heaven’s family had money from outside the house, she knows they do now. Here she stood in Heaven’s ‘dance studio’. She concedes that it’s just a room with mirrors, ballet bars and wooden floors, it looked pretty damn official to her. It’s not like her parents had failed to provide. She’s a member of a tennis team, has two coaches, and frequently attends the courts in town. But to have it in her home? She’d give anything. 

“Water. Then again.” Heaven huffs, walking over to one of the mirrors and grabbing her water bottle. 

The Rose Adage. Arguably the hardest part of Sleeping Beauty the ballet. Heaven showed a video of a professional performance to Tashi and still pointed out mistakes. The dance is all about stamina and balance. As far as Tashi could tell, Heaven had mastered all of it except the last part.

The balance. 

She’s hitting every beautiful move, every pose. But the last part.  The very last part of the dance where Aurora has to rely completely on her partner to be steady enough to guide her as she’s en pointe in attitude pose. She’s essentially meant to be a figure in a music box. Heaven had done it at least 20 times since Tashi had arrived and started being her stand-in partner. 

But her leg. Her damn leg kept quivering in the last few seconds. She doesn’t fall out. She doesn’t lose her position. But her goddamn leg quivers in the turn. Tashi sees it. She sees it. 

Neither of them are satisfied.

“Talk to me about something else. I’m getting annoyed.” Heaven says, taking a deep swig of her drink. She hands the bottle to Tashi, leaving the mouthpiece up for the other girl to get a drink too as she walks off to grab her towel.

Swallowing a gulp of water, Tashi shrugs, sitting on the floor and criss-crossing her legs. “Jacob and Tammy broke up again.”

“Really?” Heaven tosses her towel to the corner and goes over the bar closest to Tashi, perching one leg up on it. Holding true to what she promised her mother and continuing to practice. “They just got back together last week. That means Jacob’s gonna ask you to go to the dance with him next week.”

“Shut up.” Tashi scoffs with a smile, watching her friend stretch. 

“He will.” Heaven hums. “You gonna say yes?”

Tashi laughs, stretching her own back before laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Why would I do that? I don’t like Jacob, he’s boring.” She turns her head to look at Heaven again. “I figured we were going together.”

“Why would you think that?” Heaven grunts as she switches legs. “You haven’t asked me.”

Tashi rolls her eyes, pushing off of the floor and moving back to the middle of the room. “Break time’s over, let's go.” 

“I didn’t take a damn break.” Heaven laughs, nonetheless moving over and getting into position. “You’re not gonna ask me?”

“Straighten your back.”

“It’s straight.” Heaven says, going up onto her single foots, eyes following Tashi as she spins her in place, not even noticing how much time is passing. “Fine. I’ll do it then, come to the dance with me.”

Tashi stops spinning the girl, stepping back once again, this time with a smug smile on her face. “Sure why not. It’ll be fun dancing with a princess.” 

Heaven lowers her foot slowly and as the realization hits her, her own smirk forms on her face. She’d done it. And her leg didn’t shake.

“Let’s show your mom, maybe she’ll let me come hang out more when she sees that I’m basically teaching you ballet.” Tashi jokes, only to be pushed by Heaven.

“Shut up and spin me again.”

“Call me when you make it back, okay?” Heaven smiles, removing her arms from Tashi’s neck and stepping back. “Love you.”

“You call me when you get the lead.” the girl smiles back, pulling Heaven in for a brief peck before walking over to get back into Patrick’s car. “And I know.”

Art doesn't manage to look away in time for that one, but quickly turns his head away as Patrick pulls the girl in, teeth grinding as he hears their lips separate. 

“I’ll visit after the first leg of my tour.” His friend mumbles behind him. Art can feel his lip curling as he tries to work a neutral expression onto his face. As he looks at the car he can see Tashi looking back at him with a pensive stare and immediately turns his back to say his own goodbye. 

He tries to wait until Patrick is standing at the window of the passenger seat, speaking to Tashi to pull Heaven a little further away. “Hey, are we gonna talk about before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Heaven.” Art says, a pleading in his voice that drags her gaze back to him.

The girl shifts on her feet, glancing over his shoulder at the car and back at him. “Okay, we kissed. So what?”

“So what? Is that how you feel about it? So what?” Art asks, the hurt in his voice is clear as he looks down at the girl, brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just saying we had a moment.”

“Fuck.” Heaven breathes, shaking her head. “Yeah. Okay. Are you gonna tell them?”

He straightens at that. He wants to say yes. He wants to be selfish, and ruin whatever the fuck is going on between the three of them. He doesn’t even know what he’d do once he did, he just knows he wants whatever this is, with them, to stop. 

But how can he? Looking at her face, pleading up at him. Watching her all morning, curling into Tashi and Patrick like it would undo what happened the night before. Like it would change the looks they’ve been sharing over their shoulders all morning. “You asked me not to.” he says softly.

Heaven nods quietly at that. “Thank you.” And with that she turns, arms wrapped around herself as she goes to climb the steps to get to her building door. Art watches her back. When he gets in the car he’ll make something up. He’ll say he just wanted to make sure she got inside safe. He definitely wasn’t waiting, hoping, praying she’d look back. Give him one more look. Something. 

She doesn’t.

But a few days later while he’s on the court practicing with one of the guys from the team, thinking for the twentieth time that Patrick may have been a little right wasting time considering he was absolutely destroying the kid with about half of his effort, he gets a text from an unknown number. 

12:41 p.m. : I got the lead.

He can’t help the smile that starts forming when he sees it on his screen.

“Donaldson, are you up for another set or what?” 

Heaven huffs in irritation as her leg bounces on the bleachers. Shifting in her seat again her cheek dimples with a frown as she watches Patrick’s racket go flying. “Fucking ridiculous.” she sighs, crossing her legs.

She’d been in school for a couple of weeks now and Patrick had a match not too far from her. She’d decided to be a good..whatever she is to him and come out and show some support. Tashi is preparing for her own match coming up, and to be honest, his performance on this leg hadn’t been impressive enough to encourage her to want to come see. 

Heaven was trying to be supportive. Despite his broke boy act, he had sent her flowers to her dorm the week of her auditions. So had Art, something that the girls in the dorm had been scandalized by when they realized the cards were not addressed by the same person. Tashi had called her to remind her of her schedule that week, meditated with her over the phone. She wanted to give the same support to them.

When the match ends she’s already reaching for her phone and sure enough, its vibrating in her purse. “I know.”

“Did you see that shit?”

“I know. I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing. Seriously.” Heaven stands from her seat, scooting passed the small crowds of peeople and making her way down the bleachers.

“Fucking around. He gets lazy-”

“In the third, yeah. He was better than this guy.” She squints to see him storming his way into the building to go the locker room and starts following him. “He’s pissed.”

“He should be embarrassed.” There’s the sound of something snapping closed on the other end and Heaven knows Tashi slams her laptop. “He was off screen for me, how are you seeing him?”

“I drove out here, it’s pretty close.” She says, balancing her phone on her shoulder with her cheek as she pushes the door to the building open and starts looking around for the men’s locker rooms. “Figured he could use the support.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a moment and Heaven pauses in her steps, waiting for Tashi to say something. “Hm.”

“What?” Heaven sighs, leaning against the hallway, waving away an employee politely that seemed alarmed that she was on her way into the men’s locker room. “Babe, what?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry you didn’t get to see a win. He wasted our time. You could be rehearsing.” 

“S’fine, he just needs to get his shit together before-”

“I’ve gotta go.” Tashi cuts in. “I’m gonna hit the ball with Art. Hang out a little, we’ve been busy. Tell Patrick to call me later.”

Tashi hangs up before Heaven can say anything else. Breathing out in irritation, she pushes off of the wall and enters the locker room, putting a hand over her eyes and laughing at the men either scrambling to cover up or pausing to check her out.

The guy Patrick just played against wraps a towel around himself, making his way over to her with a smile. “You lost, sweetheart?”

Keeping her hand over her eyes she giggles, making her voice sickly sweet. “No, I’m a really big tennis fan, and I wanted to see if I could get that really hot guy Patrick Zweig’s number.”

“What?” He asks. 

One of Patrick's tourmates peaks his head out from behind a locker and rolls his eyes. “Zweig, your girlfriend’s here.”

Heaven can’t help but think to herself that as Patrick rounds the corner he doesn’t know exactly who he’s talking about. It makes her wonder, is that what she is? She, Tashi and Patrick have been hooking up since after his match with Art and it’s been fun. She likes him. He’s funny, and snarky, talking to him has been like…being with a male Tashi. 

But does she consider herself his girlfriend? Does he? She knows he dumped the girl he’d been seeing when he’d met them, but does he still hook up with girls while he’s on tour. And even then, is she a stop on his tour? 

Suddenly, she’s feeling a little like what she was just pretending to be. A groupie.

“Oh fuck yeah, hey.” He grins when he sees her. He’s changed out of his clothes from before into a ‘fuck you’ t-shirtand sweats. He immediately throws his arm over her shoulders, knocking her hand from in front of her eyes and replacing it with his own. “What do you think this is? A peep show? Huh? I missed you.”

Heaven laughs as she lets him guide her out of the humid room out into the hallway again, once they’re there, pulling his hand away and hugging him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiles, pressing his lips to hers. Heaven pushes up onto her toes to meet him, giving him a few more pecks before pulling back. “You came up here by yourself?”

Translation: where’s Tashi. “Yeah…but, um, she wants you to call her later.”

“She was watching?” He asks, placing his arm back around Heaven and walking them back outside toward concessions. “Okay, so you both saw, that was bullshit, right?”

Yeah, we saw some bullshit. Heaven squints, trying to read the menu at the stand despite the sun beating down, trying not to look Patrick in the face. “Did you get tired or something?”

“No, but the calls were fucking stupid, they were robbing me.” 

“Hm.” Heaven raises one shoulder and drops it, turning back to the man at the stand. “Small vanilla ice cream please. 

Patrick laughs humorously, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “Large.” Turning back to Heaven he shakes his head in disbelief. “You guys are just alike, you know? What does ‘hm’ mean?”

“I just think you could’ve beat him, he was fuckin’ scared of you the first half of the match.”

“I should’ve won.”

“I agree.” Heaven huffs, crossing her arms. 

Patrick, raises his eyebrows and throws his arms out a little, “Okay, so…”

“I just think you didn’t because you didn’t care to. It got hard so you made the decision to give up.” 

The older man in the stand clears his throat, holding out the cup of ice cream out with one spoon, eyeing the arguing pair. “Did you all need another one?”

“No.” Patrick says, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to leave. “She can have the whole damn thing.”

Heaven’s eyes widen as she watches him walking away toward the building. She grabs the ice cream from the man walking over to a bench just outside of the courts. 

He’s walking slowly. He doesn’t wanna really leave. He’s just fucking like her. 

“I’m not fucking gonna chase you, Patrick.” Heaven chuckles, scooping some of the ice cream into her mouth. She watches from her seat as he stops. “And you’re proving my point. But I drove all the way here to see you. Are you gonna leave me on this bench?”  When he doesn’t immediately turn, Heaven nods to herself, taking another bite. “M’not getting up, Patrick.”

She watches as his shoulders rise and fall with his deep breath and he turns to face her again, marching back over and sitting roughly on the bench, jostling her a little but she keeps her face neutral. “I should have won.”

“I still agree.” Heaven says, scooping some of the treat onto the spoon and holding it to his mouth, knowing he was cooling off when he accepts it. “So why didn’t you?”

The brown haired man just sighs, dropping her head back against the bench with a thunk, staring up at the sky. “I dunno.”

“He was pissed at me.”

Art nods his head along as he steps out of the shower, wiping the condensation gathered on his phone on the towel before wrapping it around his waist and bringing the phone back to his ear. He knocks his hand on his suitemate’s door to let him know he’s out of the bathroom before he makes his way to his own room, closing the door. “He didn’t leave you out there, right?”

“No, he just did that thing he does, you know, storms off. But he calmed down and we had some fun. Could’ve done without the fight though.” 

Art wets his lip as he places the phone on speaker on his desk, letting Heaven’s voice fill his room. He never asked her what made her get his number from Tashi’s phone. He figured he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. They’d been texting every day since he’d gotten it, talking on the phone every other day. They’ve talked about everything. 

Where they’re both from, their families, interests outside of tennis and dance. He learned her favorite colors are baby blue and bright orange. That she used to want to cheerlead too but her mother made her choose ballet because she preferred it and said she couldn’t do both at the same time. That her dad left when she was two but she has a great relationship with her stepfather. 

She learned that while Art loved tennis, he’d tried to quit his boarding school three different times when he first got there, but each time he’d won a match and the sport pulled him back in. That he, despite complaining, loves seeing his grandma because she was the one who really raised him because his parents were busy. That he always wanted a younger sibling but never got one, so when he was still at the school, he and Patrick would help teach the younger students tennis when they weren’t dicking around. 

What she doesn’t know is that he could do without talking to her about dating his best friend.

 “I’d bet.”

Heaven laughs ruefully on the other side of the phone, and the sound has him melting immediately. Sits at his desk, letting himself air dry as he listens to her giggles ring out. “I’m being shitty. How’s school, Arthur?”

And that sends a shiver down his spine. He clears his throat, sitting up as he stares at the phone as if she was in its place. “It’s good, you know, I’ve been staying busy. Between classes and tennis. The guys here are kinda shitty, beating them doesn’t really mean shit.” 

“Well, not everyone can be Art Donaldson. You must be hanging out with Tashi too much, you’re sounding cocky over there.” 

“Nah, it’s just that bad,” he says. Determined to steer the conversation away from Tashi, Art thinks hard. “What ballet are you doing? I gotta make sure I know what I’m watching when I come watch you.”

“You’re supposed to watch everyone so you can understand the story.” she says. He can hear the sound of creaking letting him know that she’s climbing into her bed. Art follows suit, pulling on his boxers and pushing up into his own twin sized bed.

“Heaven, if you’re there, I’m gonna be watching you.” he breathes, smiling to no one but himself.

There’s a soft, ‘Okay’ on the other side of the line, and then nothing. Just the soft sound of her breathing. When they have moments like these Art feels the sting of knowing that he lost to Patrick and in a way Tashi, that day in a different way. I should’ve won. I don’t know why I didn’t win. All I’ve done since then is win. “So, um, we’re doing Romeo and Juliet. Off the record I think the choice is corny, but as a principal dancer, Juliet, I love it and can’t wait to do it.” 

“Lucky Romeo.” he jokes, earning him another breathy laugh. He can’t help it. He tries not to say anything and clenches his jaw tightly, kicking himself for opening his mouth again. “I’m sorry, did you tell them that you got the lead?”

“Art-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…you drove out there for his match. I couldn’t even go. Did he ask you how your auditions went? Did she?” 

“She told me I should rehearse, that’s how we talk to each other.” she says.

“And him? Did he ask?” 

“I’m not talking about this with you, that’s not why I called, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t vent to you about him. Or her. I know how you feel about her.” Heaven sighs.

“Do you know how I feel about you?” He asks. Silence. “Heaven, come on-”

“What would you do differently?” 

“Wh-” At first he doesn’t know what she’s asking. And once he realizes it, he knows she’s made it vague on purpose. Giving him an out. Giving herself an out. Asking too upfront would make it too real. But he wants it to be real. And he’s not gonna miss this opportunity. “I’d have been there the day you auditioned. You have a process and I know that, so I’d have called you before. Wish you luck. Tell you that you were beautiful. That I knew you’d get whatever part you wanted. And then I would have been there when you got out. I would’ve given you flowers. I’d tell you I’m proud of you. And I’d take you to get dinner.”

“Okay. Where?”

“We’d get your cheat food. And I couldn’t have it because I’m starting my season and I know you wouldn’t let me, but we’d get seafood and ice cream, and take it back to your room because you were probably so tired.” Art pauses then, waiting to see if she wants him to stop. He would stop, if she wanted him to stop, he would stop. This could be innocent. This could be advice from a friend who thinks she deserves better. But, that’s not what he wants. That’s all he thinks he has to offer her. “Heaven?”

“I’m…still here.”

“And…” Art thinks back ironically to all of the times Patrick has told him to take what he wants. To be forward and put himself first. “We’d take a shower together. I’d kiss you and massage you while I got you clean. Because, you deserve to relax, and you worked hard. And you were probably so sore, baby.” He hears Heaven’s breath hitch and shifts on his bed, continuing tentatively. “I’d touch you so good, Hev. I’d massage your breasts and kiss your neck. I’d mark your perfect skin. I…I’d want people to see it. To know who made you feel like that. To know who took care of you. I would put my fingers between your legs and make you feel so good. I’d hold you up so you don’t have to do anything. And I’d watch your face while you come for me.”

Art can feel his own labored breathing. He tries to tune the sound of himself out, only wanting to hear the whimpers that have started to come from his phone. He swallows back the last ounce of guilt he has as his hand slides down into his shorts, grabbing himself and biting back a moan as he thinks about his hands on Heaven, hearing her in his ear, feeling her under him. On top of him. Any way she wanted. 

“Fuck.” she gasps.

Art bites his lip briefly, willing away the jolt in his lower abdomen that comes from her sound, muscles flexing as he seizes upward slightly. He slows his hand on himself to a stop, pulling his hand out. Not until I hear it. Not until I get her there. “I’d carry you to your bed and lay you down. And I’d start at your feet. I’d kiss my way up your beautiful legs. People dream about your legs, Heaven, I dream about them. When you dance, when you walk, the way they look…fuck-” he groans, digging the hand that hadn’t grabbed the phone into his hair. “I’d push them apart and put them on my shoulders, and I’d taste you. I know you taste amazing, baby. I’d do anything to taste your cum.”

“Art-” she whines, and he lets his eyes slip closed. Behind his eyelids he can see her. In the bed, touching herself to him. Biting her pillow and crying out his name. Arching her back because it feels so good.

“Tell me it feels good, Heaven, please.”

“I…it feels good, Art.” 

He’s close. He can tell, with every sound she gives him, he gets closer, barely holding it together. He needs more. Just a little more. “Again.” he demands softly.

“You feel so good, Art.” she cries before dissolving into gasps and whimpers of his name.

He almost feels like he blacks out. Art doesn’t think he’s ever come so hard in his entire life. He literally rolls over onto his side to try to catch his breath and quiet his moans. He doesn’t think he could live it down if his suitemates came knocking at his door and he had to explain that he was trying to get his friends’ girlfriend off and accidentally worked himself up to the thought of taking her on a date and eating her out. 

Then there’s quiet again. The only noise is their shared rapid breathing crackling through the phone. They stay like that for a few minutes and Art thinks about how badly he wishes that it wouldn’t be absolutely crazy to tell her he wanted to drive the hours to UCLA, do exactly what he said on the phone and then hold her while they fall asleep. But, he knows better. And she speaks.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.” Art breathes, sitting up grabbing tissues from his desk and starting to clean himself up. “I know.” 

He’s not gonna be the one to hang up. He wants more. He wants her voice. He wants her breaths. He wants to falling asleep on the phone. If she’s ready for the call to end, she’s gonna have to end it.

But she’s still here. 

“Art, I did tell them and…I don’t really know why but…I told you first.” 

Click.

[memento-rory]

➞ 𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑬.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a brief timeline of mythical!reader and spencer’s relationship. (requested by anon.)

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: literally none. just a cute lil fic <3

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.2k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is a very simple fic as it is technically my first one, but if you’d like a deeper look into this timeline, i’d be happy to oblige! <3 i love this little weirdo fr. no beta, we die like men here. (that being said if anyone ever wants to beta read for me, i would appreciate it <3 i always miss the dumbest shit fr.)

February, 2019.

It’s been a few hours since Mythical Entertainment announced they’ve acquired Smosh, and you can’t possibly be more excited. Rhett & Link throw a party to celebrate Smosh’s next chapter, and you gather in merriment with all of your coworkers, new and old.

You’ve only met a handful of Smosh members — Ian, Courtney, Shayne — all of whom have been featured on the GMM channel once or twice before. The rest are sort-of new (at least in person) faces, but they’re all nice enough, and before the night is over, you’ve introduced yourself to almost everyone, save for a man standing off to the side with a red Solo cup in his hand, just taking it all in.

“Great party, huh?” You ask him as you sidle up next to him, smiling.

He looks as though he’s a little surprised you’re talking to him, but he nods, swallowing a sip of his drink. “Yeah, awesome party.” He smiles softly, extending his hand out to you to shake. “I’m Spencer.”

“Hi, Spencer,” You shake his hand, grinning over at him, “I’m (Y/N), and I’m super excited to be working with you now.”

Spencer’s smile grows and his cheeks take on just a hint of pink. “Yeah, it’s gonna be great for sure. We’re all really excited too.”

His grip doesn’t loosen as your short conversation winds down, and his gaze lingers for a second too long before he realizes he’s still holding your hand.

April, 2019.

It’s been two months since the merger with Smosh, and you see Spencer everywhere. It’s to be expected, obviously — you work in the same office — but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t actively seeking him out most days.

He’s funny, he’s friendly, he’s charming. He knows everything there is to know about any game you’re ever interested in. He’s a great conversationalist too — every talk you have with him flows smoothly, there’s no awkwardness. You really enjoy him as a person, and he seems to feel the same.

He’s also very quietly thoughtful — if he makes a run to the kitchen for another Kickstart, he always grabs you something and swings by the Mythical side of the office to drop it off. He never draws any attention to it, he just starts up a conversation with you, like he just so happened to be in the Mythical area and coincidentally had your favorite snack or drink on hand.

He spends more time with you after this, inviting you to group hangouts on the weekends or to game with him late at night on Discord.

A month later he finally gets the courage to ask you on a date, and you give him a very enthusiastic “Yes.”

June, 2019.

It’s been a month since you agreed to a date with Spencer, and it’s been an absolute dream.

He takes you out on nice dates, but you spend most date nights at either of your places, watching movies or playing games in dim lighting and splitting takeout.

He asks you to be his girlfriend a month after your first date.

You haven’t told anyone, except for a few of each of your closest friends/coworkers. You’re able to keep it a secret until you accidentally show up to work wearing one of Spencer’s favorite crewnecks.

You decide to tell everyone at the company that day, and Ian claps Spencer heartily on the back. “I knew you had it in you.” He jokes, and everyone laughs.

You request that it be kept a secret, and several people make a motion of zipping their lips closed.

December, 2019.

It’s been six months since you and Spencer started dating, and he pops the question.

“Do you want to move in with me?”

The question doesn’t surprise you at all, really. You spent most of your time at Spencer’s place anyway. You tell him, “Absolutely, I do.”

People are quick to speculate after. There are so many photos of you and Spencer in the same rooms despite being apart. You show up in short bursts in Mythical videos wearing his clothes. You have pictures with his cat.

Most of the shared fanbase give you respect, reiterating to their peers that you’re just good pals, and talk mostly dies down.

You wouldn’t ever encourage them, but you have to hand it to your fanbases — they are good detectives.

June, 2020.

It’s been a year since you agreed to be Spencer’s girlfriend, six months since you moved into his place, and three months since quarantine started.

With a lot of the Mythical production being limited, you have a lot more free time, and Smosh fans have latched onto you. You do a couple gaming videos over Zoom with the Smosh Games crew, and comments flood about how Spencer can be heard in the background of some of your clips. Spencer streams on Twitch, and people in his chat swear they hear you singing in the other room.

Someone in chat asks him how he’s doing, and he instinctively starts his sentence with “We’re–” before stopping and correcting himself with “I’m–” but it’s too late. People demand to know who “we” includes, but he brushes over it, saying he was simply talking about him and his (and your) cat.

You let them speculate. God knows people could use some sort of hope.

June, 2023.

It’s been four years since you and Spencer made it official. Your relationship is as good as ever, the two of you obviously comfortable and happy with four years under your belt.

Ian and Anthony buy Smosh back from Mythical Entertainment. Obviously they throw a party, inviting all of the Mythical crew for one last hurrah together before (financially) parting ways.

The party is held in the same place as the one where everyone celebrated Mythical’s purchasing of Smosh so many years ago, and you have a moment of deja vu.

At your table, Spencer places his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles over the fabric of your dress. “We met here.” He says, with a goofy grin on his face.

“We did.” You beam back at him, “We’ve come full circle.”

Spencer proposes that night before bed. He can’t help himself.

(You’d discussed marriage before, both agreeing that five years together was the sweet spot for a proposal, but after ending up in the same celebration hall where you’d met, he knows this is fate.)

Of course you say yes, kissing him through happy tears, and later that night, you decide you want the entire world to know that Spencer Agnew belongs to you and only you, for the rest of time.

You snap a photo of the two of you, with your ring on full display by your face, before opening up Instagram to post it.

By the way. the caption reads.

You turn off your notifications and leave your phone on the nightstand for the rest of the night, losing yourself in the man who will soon be your husband.

[cerise-on-top]

WOOO YOUR REQUESTS ARE BACK OPEN !! first of all, HII welcome back, how are you doing? are you doing alright? i hope you are !!! >> p.s, this is the same anon who requested tall husband!reader nd 141 <33 i'll be 🦗 anon from now on!!

i've come back with another (awfully long 😔) rq !! if that's fine....,,!!

okay so i absolutely adore m!readers, and i have another one for that, so the idea is kind of like,, reader is a bit older/the same age as [char], and he's transmasc! though, he didn't have time to transition in his earlier years- he's just recently started t. what do you think price, nikolai, alejandro, nd rudy's initial reactions are to him like being so giddy to start transitioning and just reactions to him changing his body in general? :)

sorry this is disgustingly long again, & feel free to delete this ask if you feel pressured at all <3

— sincerely, 🦗

Hey there! I'm actually doing better than I did yesterday, thank you :D And don't worry about sending in long requests, I don't mind it one bit! In fact, it helps me get a better feeling for what to write :> And don't worry, I was looking forward to writing this! This was probably my most anticipated request in a long time!

Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with a Transmasc!S/O

Price: He knows that trans people exist. He’s supportive of them, but that doesn’t mean he understands what they’re going through. He’s never really had a phase where he explored his gender, he’s always felt comfortable being a man. However, he’s very understanding. As soon as you come up to him and tell him you’re finally getting your shots or your gel, he’s overjoyed. Yes, you’ve always been his boyfriend, ever since you came out to him, but you’re finally getting to go on the journey of getting HRT? He smiles along with you and gives you a big hug when you can barely sit still from glee. However, that joy doesn’t compare to actually watching you transition. You’re slowly growing a beard, your voice is getting deeper, your fat distribution is changing. He’s there to celebrate every step of it with you. If you’re alright with it, then he’d like to take a picture of you every once in a while so you can watch how far you’ve come yourself. However, he will sometimes make you go on a jog with him. Might force you to go to the gym with him as well since he can imagine working out could make you feel even manlier. Since he’s on deployment for months at a time, he always finds it to be a treat whenever he gets home. After all, he gets to see you transition so much in all this time. In order to celebrate all these milestones he will take you out on a lot of dates, with him paying, of course. You’re his most ideal man, you need to know just how loved you are. Lots of praise too, you’ve come so far, you’ve gone through so much, you’re so very strong. You’ve gone through things Price can’t even imagine. He’s definitely extremely supportive of you.

Alejandro: He’s never considered himself anything but a man either, but he loves trans people. In fact, I like to imagine that he’d actively stand up for them if someone is being a dick towards them. Alejandro is a well respected man who can make just about anyone shut up, he will not tolerate any bigotry. So, as soon as you come out to him, he gets a big smile on his face and immediately starts calling you his boyfriend. And, once you go on T, he’s just as happy as you are. You’ve had to live in such an uncomfortable body all this time, finally you get to feel like yourself. He’ll help you with your testosterone as well, if you let him, of course. Every time he delivers your shot to you or rubs the gel in he gives you a hug afterwards, shaking a bit with excitement, always raving about how happy he is for you. Sometimes he jokes about how hormones can also be exchanged through making out, but you don’t have to kiss him if you don’t want to. Again, it’s just a joke. You’re his handsome man and if anyone ever dared to disrespect or misgender you then they’ll end up with a black eye. As mentioned above, he does not tolerate bigotry in the slightest. Sometimes he’ll run his thumb over your beard and tell you just how gorgeous of a man you are, and how happy he is to have you with him. On your dysphoric days he’ll remind you that you’re the most wonderful man to have ever existed. Trans is just an adjective, you are a man, you’ve always been one. Sits you on his lap, wraps a blanket around you and lists all the traits that make you a man. And even if he can’t make the dysphoria go away, he’ll still stay with you and cuddle you until you feel better.

Rodolfo: I think there was a time in Rodolfo’s life where he thought he was better off as a woman, but that phase didn’t last too long, a year at most. He didn’t go through with anything either, but he knows what dysphoria feels like to some degree. Ergo he’ll never be a bigot towards trans people. He respects them quite a lot, being misgendered and referred to by the wrong name feels so disheartening, having to go through all of that for such a long time is horrible. So he feels a bit bad when you come out to him, thinking that he’s referred to you by the wrong name and pronouns for such a long time. He apologizes for that as well. Of course, he wishes you all the best and will support you through whatever you wanna do. In fact, if you wanna get surgery then he offers to split the costs with you, he just loves you that much. Once you tell him you’ve finally gotten the prescription for testosterone he’s ecstatic. On the outside he may seem calm, but on the inside he’s a bit disarrayed from the happiness he feels for you. He picks you up and spins you around because he’s just that giddy. Will also help you administer your shots or help you apply your gel, if you’re comfortable with that. He’s very observant, so after a few weeks he’ll tell you how you’re slowly starting to change. Like Price, he’ll invite you to do workouts with him so you can become stronger. However, he also offers to learn about other things with you. Is not above teaching you how to ride a motorcycle either, if you don’t already know. Riding one always makes him feel very masculine. As soon as you grow your first stubble, he’ll cradle your face in his hands before squeezing you so tight, you’d think he wanted to break a rib or two. Praises you so much when he sees you slowly change, he just loves you so so dearly.

Nikolai: Not trans himself, has never had a phase either, but if he likes you then he’ll actually pay for your surgery. He actually paid for Gaz’ top surgery because he’s like a son to him and wanted him to be well. You’re Nikolai’s boyfriend, so naturally he’ll pay for anything you might need. Top surgery, bottom surgery, testosterone, doesn’t matter, you’ll get it from him because he wants to be a supportive boyfriend. He’s a very observant man, so he likely had a hunch you were a trans man before you even told him. While he may not have said anything, he wasn’t particularly surprised when you told him. Asked you for your preferred name and pronouns and hasn’t referred to you as anything else since. He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Has threatened bigots before, though. When you told him you finally got to be on T, after all those years, he was happy. Again, he didn’t make too big of a deal out of it, but he told you how proud he was of you. Like Alejandro, he also joked about making out with you, though. Nothing serious, if you didn’t want it to be, however. Will also point out the small differences as soon as he notices them. As you change more and more, he subconsciously becomes more touchy with you. You’re just such a sweet man, he can’t help it. No real reason, just watching you become more and more content with yourself makes his heart flutter too, so he falls in love with you even more than he did before. If you want to, you’re more than welcome to wear his clothes too, regardless of whether they’re too big on you or not. Nikolai is a very tall guy, so there’s a good chance they are. As a joke, he teaches you the sacred art of grilling in summer. You’ll be able to make the meanest burgers around.

[ayedafuq]

Hamzah imagine I’m sorry god

POV: You got invited up to Toronto by your friend (Y/F) who hangs in the same circle as the Slushy Noobz crew, u n Hamzah meet at a party, get a little too tipsy, and you flirt just a taaaad .

——

(Y/F) : bitch come out the room and DRINK

Currently hiding away in her room (where I’ve been a freeloader for the past 2 days), I see Y/F’s text to come and join the pregame she’s having in her living room. She moved from our hometown to Toronto, a place I haven’t been before this, and I’m visiting her for the week. I came up on Wednesday and after our playful time catching up together for the past two days, she decided it’d be a good idea to go out with some of the friends she made. She currently has about 8 people in her living room playing drinking games, and I’m sitting on the floor staring into her full body mirror, ready to go to the bar, nervous as FUCK about meeting her friends.

After ignoring her text for approximately 30 seconds, she comes into the room. “OOOO GURRRRL YOU LOOKIN GOOOOOD” she says. I know she knows I’m nervous.

“Wait close the door” I say to her, and she does. “Dude, what if they don’t like me.” My anxiety is clearly getting the best of me.

“Fuck do you mean what if they don’t like you? You’re quite literally my twin. If they don’t like you then I’ll KNOW they secretly don’t like me. And they love me, so chill the fuck out. Get up” she picks me up out off the ground and pulls me out into her living room.

“Guess who’s heeeerrrree” she says to the group, and they all start to cheer. “There she is!” One of the girls says. A guy chimes in, “The visitor has arrived!”

Y/f drags me around the party to share names, my nerves subsiding. Everyone here is really nice. Why was I even worried?

“Hey, I’m Mandy. I work at the animal shelter with y/f. I’ve heard so much about you!” The girl says. I reply telling her I’ve heard about her too. “Y/f says the only reason she goes there is to pet animals and hang out with you” I tell her. “Yea sounds about right, I do the same thing.”

Me, Mandy and Y/f chat for a couple minutes sharing some laughs and stories, until the guy who chanted earlier and his friend come up. “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Martin. And this is Hamzah, avoid him.”

I give my hellos and introduce myself to Martin. We banter for a quick second before I turn to Hamzah. “Hellooo, I’m Y/n.” I give him a quick smile he returns. “Hey Y/n, how do you like Toronto so far?”

Before I can even answer, Y/f interrupts. “I’m gonna need you guys to shut up and grab a drink. We’re leaving for the bar in 30, and me and Y/n still need to demolish half the party in flip cup. Grab two seltzers from the fridge” she tells me. “You better lock in, I told everyone you never miss a flip.”

—

Two hours later and we’re at the bar, and it’s safe to say I’m feeling preeeetty nice. Her friends are so sweet, and I can’t help but feel so happy that she found these people.

Mandy, y/f, Hamzah and I are standing by a high top table, and I take the liberty in sharing some stories of me and y/f from parties in high school.

“When I tell you I turned my head for 3 seconds and y/f was gone, I mean it. I’m running through the party like a chicken without a fucking head, looking like a maniac asking everyone where she is. Mind you, I’m like 17 and hammered, so I was probably acting like the hulk.”

“Jesus Christ y/n don’t..” she says.

“After 10 minutes where do I find this bitch? Asleep in this random bitch’s closet with her head, quite literally, in a bucket.”

Hamzah and Mandy are cracking up. “You didn’t even know who threw the party?” Hamzah asks between laughs.

“Not a fucking clue. Y/f felt right at home though” I say, giggling myself.

“Girl I hate you, but yea I did. That bucket was my crib. Need to go to the bathroom?” Y/f asks me.

I tell her I’m alright for now, and Mandy tells her she needs to go so they scurry off together.

“Wow, so you guys have been friends for a while huh?” Hamzah says, still smiling from the story.

“Yea, we’ve been through a lot together. She’ll never get rid of me I fear” I say back.

“Damn, that’s awesome. Y/f is super cool, I’m happy she moved up here. When’s it your turn?” He says, his smile becoming more of a smirk. It hasn’t gone over my head that this kid is fucking adorable, but hes been acting pretty shy all night. The sly comment took me by surprise.

“Man I wish I could. It’s been on my mind a lot since she moved here” I reply.

“What’s stopping you?” He asks.

“I guess I’m just scared. It’s a big move, and she’s got the balls to do it. I’m not sure I do.”

“I felt the same way too, I pretty much hauled ass across the country of Canada at 18. I lived out of my car for a bit actually, it was a nightmare. I’d do it all again though, it was the best decision I’ve made. If I could do it, a pretty girl like you could too.”

Pretty girl?

“Pretty girl?” I say back, a little smug. The drinks are getting to me I fear.

“I’m sorry, was that weird?” He gets a little shy again. I giggle to let him know it wasn’t.

“Not at all. Thank you, pretty boy” I playfully shove his arm. I cringe in my head. I gotta be fucking kidding.

“Pretty boyyy I see I see” he says with a smile. “You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“Only a little bit. Like, this much” I pinch my fingers together the closest I can without having them touch.

“Well, thiiiis pretty boy” he mimics my fingers, “thinks you should move to Toronto thiiiis much” he separates them a little more. “Because he’d like to see you more thiiiiis badly” he separates them as far as he can. Damn, he has nice hands.

“Wow that’s pretty badly” I respond. Thank god I have makeup on because this cheesy shit might be making me blush.

“Yea, it’s alarming. Think about it, pretty girl” he tilts his head towards me playfully as he says pretty girl, getting a little close and then backing his head away swiftly. His smirk is fully activated and the eye contact we’re making is pretty hot. I smile back at him with my tongue touching my canine (do yk what I’m talking about like that lil sexy smile), tilting my head slightly to the side as if to say oh, ur flirting with me, noted. and just as I’m about to respond, y/f and Mandy return from the bathroom.

“Stop harassing her Hamzah she’s never gonna want to come back” Mandy says. “Come on, we’re gonna go back to y/f’s and play drinking games. This bar is boring.”

Hamzah follows after Mandy, glancing back at me quickly with a cheeky smile before turning his head. Y/f gets in my ear.

“Hamzah likes you. Mandy can tell. She told me in the bathroom.”

—-

Okay guys hi this is like so bullshit but I was feeling playful idk I hope you enjoyed if you made it this far

-ayev

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

I’m gonna have like. A day off lol my bad

[ectoplasmer]

terrible horrible bad habit of looking at any of my f/os and going “pretty boy!!” over and over again almost instinctively

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[earthtooz]

in which: a moment of impulsivity has ratio knocking on your door at 3 am with a grand confession.

There is a great cloud of curiosity that surrounds Dr. Ratio.

His intelligence is far beyond the average person’s comprehension, mind working at insurmountable speeds to reach conclusions and answers that no others have come to before. Mediocrity and Ratio could never stand to be in the same room, intelligence and reputation as an academic preceding him.

When people find out that you have been in a long-term relationship with the scholar, you can almost see the question mark above their heads. How did you meet? When did you start dating? How did you start dating? How do you put up with him? (You always answer that with ‘I’m still trying to find out myself’. He always rolls his eyes when you say that, but it’s nothing a kiss to the cheek can’t solve.) 

Only your closest friends know the story of how you started dating, but it’s always one you love recounting, much to the dismay of Veritas. 

For the decades that he has lived for, there have been few moments he regrets, always critically scrutinising every move six steps before he makes them. No one has ever seen him messy, uncertain, or dishevelled- except you. 

Towards the end of your university years, with an urgent final assignment due soon, you’re rudely awoken one night by frantic knocks on your dorm’s door. You notice the clock reads 3 am, and since the knocks only got louder by the second, you throw your covers off with a groan.

Who could be at your door at 3 am? Perhaps a drunk dormmate who forgot their keys? Or someone knocking thinking it was their room?

Looking through the peephole, you’re stunned to see a certain violet-haired friend on the other side, trouble etched deeply into his features. His hair was messy, falling haphazardly around his face, and his usual accessory of a laurel wreath was discarded, flamboyant outfit discarded for something more comfortable. 

It’s clear that he’s troubled by something, but you have half a mind to leave him outside until he goes away (that’s what he’d do to you, or so you think).

Opening the door, you begin by scolding him. “You better have a good reason to show up at this godforsaken time or otherwise-”

“-I’m in love with you.” 

Perhaps if it were a normal hour of the day, and if you hadn’t just been rudely awaken from your sleep, you would have processed his words faster. Instead, you blink at him once, twice, three times, fatigue weighing heavily on your features as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

“What?” You murmur, shaking your head as if that would clear up the mental blockage.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeats, firmer this time. 

You grab his wrist and drag him inside your dorm, blinded by the harshness of the hallway lights illuminating the outline of his figure. Turning on the softer light on your desk, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, gazing down at your hands. Veritas, however, stays near your door, annoyingly muscular arms flexed over his chest.

“I have so many questions,” you grumble, rubbing your eyes. “Why are you awake? You’re always asleep by 11 to get your ass up at 6 to exercise, or whatever.” 

“Are you avoiding the main point, or just stupid?” He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. “I love you.” 

“Excuse me! You were banging bullets on my dorm room, I’m disorientated right now, not stupid- what?”

It’s almost like his statement from earlier only pierces through your brain now with the way you freeze, eyes morphing into something akin to disbelief and shock. He sees all the changes in your expression in the dimness of the room, nervously biting his cheek with every subtle shift.

“Did… I hear that right?” You whisper after what feels like an eternity. “You love me?”

He nods. “For a few years now.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Am I not doing so in this very moment?” 

Tonight has been nothing but agitating for him. First, he was kept awake by the pounding of his heart and the burning desire to see you, significantly delaying his sleep until Veritas decided to cast all caution into the wind, running to your dorm all the way on the other side of the University. Now, he is trying to pour his heart onto your hands, all because of a moment of impulsivity and bull-headed stubbornness, and a secret he cannot keep to himself any longer.

He may be stubborn (as are all geniuses), but Veritas is never impulsive. All truths will come to light eventually, no matter how hard he tries to hide them. 

“While I accept that my feelings may not be reciprocated, can you at least say something rather than stare at me blankly?” There’s an unfamiliar look of concern in his eyes, contrasting the usual pride and arrogance he always wears.

What happened to the Veritas Ratio you know? Who is this man by your feet?

“No- that’s not. I… I love you too, I have for a while now, but everything about this is… just… unbelievable.”

“Why?” 

“You’re aeons out of my league, Veritas. I never once considered you would return my feelings.”

He stifles back a laugh, dropping his large hands off your shoulders and clutching the mattress on either side of you. You won’t forget about the way the sheets crumple beneath his grip, or the way his head hangs, bangs tickling your legs.

Bravely, you raise a hand to his hair, running through it. Seemed like he could use the comfort.

“You make me too damn nervous,” he breathes, a hand coming to clutch at his chest. 

“Never thought I’d live to see the day you admit you get nervous.” 

“Why’s that?”

“The only thing bigger than your brain is your ego.”

His confession, and everything about that night, was unorthodox, never predicting that you’d end the day curled up next to Veritas, or the long relationship that would follow.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[jamminvroomvroom]

4k celebration

congrats on 4k love - your writing is absolutely worth all of the hype and even more!!! i adore your work and so look forward to even more people discovering it.

i was hoping to request a lewis fic?? i’m such a slut for a good enemies to lovers situation, so maybe along the lines of reader is a fair bit younger than lewis, but there’s been all of this tension btwn them and it all boils over one night (smuttyyyyy) 🥴

we made up.

LH x fem!rival reader - 4k celebration

in which you can never just bite your tongue

eeeeek i love this request! thank u sm anon for ur sweet words, ur so lovely i hope i’ve done this justice for you! writing for lewis terrified me so this might not be my best work but we move! more lewis requests to come, let me know what you think <3

songs to set the mood: stargirl interlude by the weekend & lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors go away!! smut, swearing, degradation, praise, dom!lewis, some switch!reader, implied age gap, slightly inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers, blink n you’ll miss it size kink

2.6k words

you hide admiration with a scowl, curling into yourself, as far away as you can get from him. the couch seems to get smaller and smaller with every overly intelligent, carefully thought out word he says. each sentence seems to be coated in a thick layer of i don’t give a fuck. you don’t know how he’s so good a toeing the line.

after six years in f1, you still couldn’t work out why you didn’t like lewis hamilton.

maybe it was his cool confidence, the way he never lacked composure, while you were called an unhinged, delusional woman by every incel on twitter for so much as breathing. maybe it was his sky high stack of trophies, championships, podiums, wins. you weren’t even halfway close to touching his records. maybe it was the way he was diabolically, inhumanly gorgeous, a truly breathtaking creature. you paled in every single way compared to lewis, so how could you even begin to like him?

it was silly, really, pathetic even, feeling such childish disdain just because he was better than you. he was older, more refined, iconic in every single way that you weren’t. perhaps you’d get there one day, but you simply weren’t there yet.

you’re sat beside him in the press conference, sharing the couch with him, alex, lando, charles and max. it wasn’t the worst combination in the world, but anytime you had to sit in front of a gaggle of hawk-eyed journos and a million cameras with lewis, something unfortunate usually happened. never by design, but you just weren’t very good at saving face in front of the mercedes driver.

“do you think the podium is a possibility this weekend?” someone from autosport whose name you can’t remember asks.

“i’m hoping so, just need to keep the mercs behind us again, but i don’t think that will be that hard.” you respond, without even a sliver of a filter. the material of the sofa shifts as lewis tenses up beside you, inhaling sharply at your blatant disrespect. somewhere beside you, lando sniggers, and max is rolling his eyes.

it was no secret that you didn’t have the softest spot in the world for sir lewis.

“that’s assuming your car makes it to the end of the race.” lewis clears his throat, speaking with confident conviction. you turn you head to glare at him, painfully unable to take what you give. alex slaps his hand over his mouth.

“at least my car isn’t so bad that i’d rather go and learn the alphabet down at ferrari.” you scoff. you avoid the eyes of your comms officer, because if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under already.

“i think we’ll leave it there.” tom clarkson suggests, and you stand from the panel and storm away on trembling legs with a terrible ache throbbing between them.

there’s something about the pettiness, the reasonless back and fourth you two always seem to partake in that leaves you in need of a cold shower.

-

turns out, you have to apologise.

you spend the better part of an hour being bollocked by your press team, who, for some reason, don’t find it particularly amusing that you’d somehow managed to insult the lewis hamilton, ferrari, and mercedes in the span of two sentences.

so, there you were, begrudgingly trailing towards lewis’s hotel room. it’s on the top floor, because of course it is, it’s him. he oozes expensive exclusively, naturally above the rest. you twist your rings nervously, increasingly terrified of being in a confined space alone with the gorgeous brit. your knuckles rap gently against the wood of his door, intentionally weakly. you pray he won’t hear you and that you can just disappear back into the elevator and into your room, to pathetically let you hands wander between your clenched thighs.

but god laughs, and the door swings open. lewis seems startled by your presence, just for a moment though, leaning cooly against the doorframe. his lips pull into a faint smile. two things alarm you. first of all, he’s shirtless, bare from the waist up, a plethora of delicious tattoos on display for you to feast your eyes on. secondly, and somehow even worse, he’s panting, clearly just back from a work out in the gym. he glistens with sweat, and your mind goes blank, apologetic words die on your tongue.

“something to say, angel, or are you just here to stare?” lewis teases, the words rolling off his tongue smoothly. you pray for the ground to gape open, swallow you hole, suck you into hot lava.

“well, i was gonna apologise but i don’t think you deserve it.” you sneer, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“didn’t think you knew how to apologise.” lewis grins sarcastically, mocking you.

“has anyone told you how arrogant you are?” you bite back, eyes narrowing.

“why don’t you come in here and i’ll show you just how arrogant i can be?” his voice has dropped a few octaves, seductive and low.

the proposition, the suggestion behind his words makes you fold immediately. you’d wondered for far too long about what he was like behind closed doors and under thick bedsheets, and if you had the chance at finding out, you’d be imbecilic not to take it.

you shove his muscled chest, pushing him back into his room. his hands find your waist, pulling harshly at the material of your loose t-shirt. he’s watching you intently, mesmerised by the angry flush on your cheeks tinging you pink. your eyes convey hunger, matching his, and you’re forcing him down to sit at the foot of his bed.

“why are you such an asshole?” you hiss, slotting your knees on either side of his so that you’re straddling him.

“probably the same reason you’re such a little bitch.” lewis growls, tugging you forward harshly on his lap. you feel his work out shorts ride up on his thighs, the material sensitive on your skin.

your pupils blow wide at his words, and you’re kissing him hard, teeth and tongues clashing messily. his lips are so soft, pillowy as they brush aggressively with your own and you lick wetly into his awaiting mouth. he’s addictive, minty, and you fall against his bare chest as he leans back into the mattress.

“i think you need to be taught some manners.” lewis grunts, flipping your bodies over like you’re nothing, and slotting against your body like a missing piece.

“i think the same could be said about you.” you breathe, sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts. he chuckles quietly, the rumble reverberating through your own chest, cracking you open.

“try your best.” he whispers. your eyes roll back.

truth is, you’re not the most experienced person in the world. yes, you’re in your mid twenties, but a long term relationship with the worlds biggest loser and dedicating your life to a career in a boys club meant that you didn’t have the time to develop broadest set of skills. you didn’t have the luxury of letting loose in a nightclub with a stranger because if that information got into the wrong hands, you’d be slut-shamed off the face of the earth. so now, you found yourself a little bit lost under a literal sex god.

as if he can hear your thoughts, lewis pulls back.

“what’s the matter? do you want me to stop?” he’s softer than he ever has been with you, melting away in your hands, but you draw him back in, tightening your grip on the band of his shorts.

“no, no, i just…” the words die on your tongue. something in your eyes gives him all the information that he needs.

“do what feels right, good.” his nose brushes your jaw, kissing over it and you settle back into the moment.

“teach me a lesson.” you whisper, empowered in his hands, and he springs back into action, his demeanour slipping right back into what it had been.

“is that why you’re so bad in interviews? just want me to fuck some respect into you?” his lips tug amusedly when you nod rapidly up at him.

an experimental roll of his hips makes you keen, hand slipping into his braids and pulling hard. his eyes fall shut, lips parting to let out a soft groan, his eyebrows pinching from the rough pleasure. your fingers graze over the skin of his toned belly, finding sensitive skin that makes him shiver.

“you distracted, lew?” you taunt, with the only intention of riling him up.

his eyes snap open, hard and lacking any sort of warmth, and he tears your hands from where they rest on his firm body, swiftly pinning them above your head with one hand. he plants himself on one knee, balancing himself so that he can fiddle with the button of your shorts. he makes quick work of removing them, forcing the zipper down and skilfully manoeuvring them with just the one hand.

once they’re gone, along with the lace of your underwear, he forces your thighs apart, and slides his fingers along the seam of your cunt, slicking them up. you’re soaked and he momentarily falters, but he doesn’t let himself get too visibly affected.

“fuck, you’re so wet. been thinking about me, angel?” he teases mercilessly, as he rocks the first thick digit into you, twisting and curling until he finds the spot that makes you buck your hips.

“nothing to say now, hm?” lewis tuts, wetting his lips. the feeling of you squeezing so tight around just one of his fingers makes him choke out a moan. you can feel his hot breath fanning over your face, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him filling you up.

“more.” you breathe, stuttering over just one word. he revels in how he’s managed to reduce you to this so quickly.

“you sure you can take it, angel? so fucking tight.”

“make me.” you plead, parting your strained thighs even wider for him.

he lets go of your hands, snaking down your body to get himself closer to where you’re dripping already.

“keep them there.” lewis orders, and you grip tightly onto the pillows to exercise restraint.

lewis presses his forearm over the plush of your belly, holding you down as he adds a second finger, watching in awe as it slips so effortlessly into your pussy. you’re mewling, fighting to buck your hips but the firm press of his muscled arm keeps you in place.

“so pretty for me, angel, soaking my fingers.” he notes, entranced at how responsive you are for him.

“want you inside of me, lew.” you whine, knuckles paper white where you’re fighting off the urge to reach down and touch him.

“wait.” he snarls, ramming his fingers even harder, grinding against the soft spot buried deep. “you’re gonna cum like this first.”

with that, he removes the barricade of his arm, bringing his spare hand to your clit, the pad of his thumb drawing calloused circles into the bud. you lose it, grinding down on his fingers like a woman possessed.

“that’s it, sweetie, fuck yourself for me.” lewis encourages, voice gravelly and low.

sparks shoot down your spine, nothing but white behind your eyelids as he lights you on fire. you can’t warn him, the words lost to the tense air of the room as you barrel towards your first release. he eases you through it, not letting up even a little bit, but it pays off when you can’t help but writhe against the cream of the bedspread.

“god.” you croak, flopping limp as he pulls out, crawling over you.

“learned your lesson?”

“not quite.” you flash an exhausted grin, abandoning your grasp on the pillows to slide them down his thick frame.

you trace the lion adorning his shoulder, the compass, each piece driving you further into utter delirium. your hands graze his waist, snaking around his abdomen until you reach the cross, tracing it until you reach words that keep him going.

still i rise the cursive reads, and he shivers as you rake your nails over it.

“fuck me.” you purr. your hands slide under his shorts once more, gripping at the curve of his ass. you push the material down over his thighs, and he happily kicks them away, his inked hands roughly spreading you even wider.

“desperate little thing, bet you go home after every race and fuck yourself silly wishing it was me, hm?” he adjusts himself between your legs, his thick cock nudging against you entrance, drenching himself in the mess he’d made.

you gasp out a moan as he slides deep, taking his sweet time. you can’t even comprehend his words, totally consumed by the brutally enticing stretch of him, your thighs shaking at the delectable intrusion. he hisses at the sensation of your tight warmth, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. lewis licks over the sensitive skin, trailing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth, gentle nips making you shudder on his cock.

“don’t leave a mark.” you choke, and lewis seems to get it, so he skims his teeth lower, sucking purple just over your heart.

you clamp down around him, allured by the tweak of pain, and it seems to spark something in him, his hips rolling into yours experimentally.

“you feel so fucking good.” lewis pants, his breath warm and wet on your neck.

“need you to move.” you plead, turning your head to capture his lips in an urgent kiss.

he pulls out, slamming back into you roughly, your tummy twisting with anticipation. lewis finds a rhythm that suits you both, hips hitting yours with every thrust, each one leaving you full and spent.

“gonna make sure you feel me for days.” he promises, yanking your legs over his hips. as he does, he hits deeper and you yelp, stars in your eyes. “when you sit in the car tomorrow, you’re gonna feel me and remember how to be a good fucking girl, not an attention seeking brat.”

you ramble his name, eyes flooding with tears of overstimulation, dumbfounded at how he seems to hit a new spot with every slide of his cock. he’s digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, pulling your hips impossibly closer to his as he drives into you, as if he wants to become a part of you, moulded for an eternity. with the way your stomach knots, butterflies and adrenaline coursing through you, you’d comply; you’d let him do whatever he wanted to him anytime he wanted.

“‘m so close.” you whine, pulling on every part of him your hands can reach. a refreshed sense of determination builds in his eyes and he presses hard on your navel.

“so deep, can see it.” lewis slurs, eyes fixed on your belly.

those five words make you unravel, sending you hurtling over the edge. he can’t help but fuck you through it, hammering home while you spasm around him so tight that he struggles to move.

“fucking addicted to this pussy.” lewis groans, burying himself as deep as he can go.

you’re utterly enchanted as you watch him reach his release, gnawing at your bottom lip when his part in a moan, allowing gentle puffs of air to escape. his long eyelashes rest delicately over his cheeks as his eyes fall shut, your name spilling out of his mouth like a needy prayer.

you’re warm from the inside out, flushed and full when he settles, pressing his body weight into you completely.

-

two weeks later, you’re in japan, bored senseless in yet another press conference. lewis sits further down the couch, and you have to cross your legs every time he speaks. no one seems to notice, except him, of course.

when it’s your turn to speak, and you’re asked all about your little spat with sir lewis back in australia, you shrug, smirking.

“we made up.”

-

oof

-

taglist

@mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal @carlandoxlestappen

if you wanna be added or removed lemme know! :D

[denimbex1986]

'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

[arielleslipgloss]

How to Reinvent Yourself!!

(none of these photos are mine!) “Pour yourself a drink, put on lipstick and pull yourself together.” - Elizabeth Taylor

Mindset!! This is one of the most important things that comes with reinventing yourself. Therefore that toxic, negative, insecure, and judgmental mindset has gotta go. Say hello to your new positive, secure, lavish, and uplifting mindset! Now, first thing you need to do is stop taking EVERYTHING so personally. Should you really be spending your whole day overthinking what this person says about you. NO! The only opinion that should matter when it comes to you, IS YOU. Next, think with a “so what?” type of mindset. Someone doesn’t like you? So what! Someone judges you? So what! Say so what, and move on. Lastly, take care of your mind!! You can’t create a whole new mindset if you don’t take care of your mind. So, heal whatever is making your mind stressed and fill your head with lots of good thoughts. You could compliment yourself, do shadow work, watch uplifting videos, just do whatever makes you feel good.

2. Set boundaries!! Not only should you set boundaries for yourself, but also for your relationships. Whether thats with a bf/gf, family members, or even friends. Whoever it is, they need to understand to not cross the line. Now, if they don’t understand then they obviously shouldn’t be around you. This year we are only surrounding ourselves around people who deserve to have access to us. Now, let’s talk about examples of having boundaries . First example, someone may be touching you in a way that makes you uncomfortable. For that reason you move a bit away from that person and clarify that they’re making you uncomfortable. If they call you selfish, so what? They need to understand to respect your boundaries. Second, someone is disrespecting you? Tell them that you don’t like their behavior and to stop. Last example, a stranger is using your belongings without your permission? Tell them that they should have asked and you don’t want them using your stuff. If any of these people don’t respect your boundaries, get them out of your life!!

3. Change the way you dress, talk, and walk!! I would like to clarify quickly, only do this if you want to. Moving on, I’ve learnt that slower walking and talking is better. Now I’m not saying to walk and talk in slow motion. Just slightly do it slower. This way, you can play attention to your behaviors more. It can be really important to observe yourself. Not only that but in a world moving fast, walking slow makes you stand out. Also make sure when you speak, it’s clear. That way people can understand you and what you’re saying. Finally, let’s go over the way you dress. Wear outfits that make you feel good, stylish, and fit you well. If you want to wear an outfit, don’t shy away. Wear it if it makes you feel happy! When you wear an outfit that makes you confident, the outfit is even cuter. Don’t forget, have fun with fashion and experiment with pieces.

4. Self-worth!! You need to understand that you’re an absolute BLESSING on this Earth. You are here for a reason and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. There is not a single flaw in you. You see your insecurities? Yeah, well someone out there has them too. Just because you have a few insecurities, doesn’t mean that should bring your value down. You should bring your value up and add taxes by realizing your worth.

“It is far better to be alone, than to be in bad company.” - George Washington

Love you dolls sm!! Remember to always wear a smile and stay pretty 💋

Pinterest: Arielleslipgloss

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing Fantasy

Every author has their preferred genres. I love fantasy and sci-fi, but began with historical fiction. I hated all the research that historical fiction demands and thought, if I build my own world, no research required.

Boy, was I wrong.

So to anyone dipping their toe into fantasy/sci-fi, here’s seven things I wish I knew about the genres before I committed to writing for them.

1. You still have to research. Everything.

If you want any of your fantasy battle sequences, or your space ships, or your droids and robots, or your fictional government and fictional politics to read at all believable.

In sci-fi, you research astronomy, robotics, politics, political science, history, engineering, anthropology. In fantasy, you have to research historical battle tactics, geography, real-world mythology, folklore, and fairytales, and much of it overlaps with science fiction.

I say you *have to* assuming you want your work to be original and unique and stand out from the crowd. Fanfic writers put in the research for a 30k word smut fic, you can and will have to research for your original work.

2. Naming everything gets exhausting

I hate coming up with new names, especially when I write worlds and places divorced from Earthly customs and can’t rely on Earthly naming conventions. You have to name all your characters, all your towns, villages, cities, realms, kingdoms, planets, galaxies, star systems.

You have to name your rebel faction, your imperial government, significant battles. Your spaceships, your fantasy companies and organizations, your magic system, made-up MacGuffins, androids, computer programs. The list goes on and on and on.

And you have to do it all without it sounding and reading ridiculous and unpronounceable, or racist. Your fantasy realms have to have believable naming patterns. It. Gets. Exhausting.

3. It will never read like you’re watching a movie

Do you know how fast movies can cut between scenes? Movies can balance five plotlines at once all converging with rapid edits, without losing their audience. Sometimes single lines of dialogue, or single wordless shots are all a scene gets before it cuts. If you try to replicate that by head-hopping around, you will make a mess.

It’s perfectly fine to write like you’re watching a movie, but you can’t rely on visual tricks to get your point across when all you have is text on a page – like slow mo, lens flares, epically lit cinematic shots, or the aforementioned rapid edits.

It doesn’t have to, nor should it, look like a movie. Books existed long before film, so don’t let yourself get caught up in how ~cinematic~ it may or may not look.

4. Your space opera will be compared to Star Wars and Star Trek

And your fairy epic will be compared to Tinkerbell, your vampires to Twilight, your zombies to The Walking Dead, Shaun of the Dead, World War Z. Your wizards and witches and any whisper of a fantasy school for fantasy children will be compared to Harry Potter. Your high fantasy adventure will be compared to Lord of the Rings.

You can’t avoid it, but you can avoid doing it to yourself. When people ask about your book, let them say “oh, you mean like Star Wars” to which you then can say, kind of, except XYZ happens in my book. These IPs will never fade from the public consciousness, not while you exist to read this post, at least, but Harry Potter isn’t the only urban fantasy out there. Lord of the Rings isn’t the only high fantasy. Star Wars isn’t the only space opera.

Yours will be on the shelves right next to them, soon enough, and who knows? You might dethrone them.

5. Your world-building is an iceberg, and your book is the tip

I don’t pay for any of those programs that help you organize your book and mythos. I write exclusively on Apple Notes, MS Word, and Google Suite (and all are free to me). I have folders on Apple Notes with more words inside them than the books they’re written for.

If you try to cram an entire college textbook’s worth of content into your novel, you will have left zero room for actual story. The same goes for all the research you did, all the hours slaving away for just a few details and strings of dialogue.

There’s a balance, no matter how dense your story is. If you really want to include all those extra details, slap some appendices at the end. Commission some maps.

6. The gatekeeping for fantasy and sci-fi is still very real

Pen names and pseudonyms exist for a reason. A female author writing fantasy that isn’t just a backdrop for romance? You have a harder battle ahead of you than your male counterparts, at least in the US. And even then, your female protagonist will be scrutinized and torn apart.

She’ll either be too girly or not girly enough, too sexy, or not sexy enough. She’ll be called a Mary Sue, a radical feminist mouthpiece, some woke propaganda. Every action she takes will be criticized as unrealistic and if she has fans who are girls, they will be mocked, too.

If you have queer characters, characters of color, they won’t be good enough, they won’t please everyone, and someone will still call you a bigot. A lot of someones will still call you a bigot.

Do your due diligence and hire your army of sensitivity readers and listen to them, but you cannot please everyone, so might as well write to please yourself. You’re the one who will have to read it a thousand times until it’s published.

7. Your “original” idea has been done before, and that’s okay

Stories have been told since before language evolved. The sum of the parts of your novel may be original, but even then, it’s colored by the media you’ve consumed. And that’s okay!

How many Cinderella stories are there? How many high fantasies? How many books about werewolves and witches and vampires? Gods and goddesses and celestial beings? Fairies and dragons and trolls? Aliens, robots, alien robots? Romeo and Juliette? Superheroes and mutants?

Zombies may be the avenue through which you tell your story, but it’s not *just* about zombies, is it? It’s about the characters who battle them, the endurance of the human spirit, or the end of an era, the death of a nation. So don’t get discouraged, everyone before you and everyone after will have written someone on the backs of what came before and it still feels new.

[tteokdoroki]

THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending  - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel?  TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back. 

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work. 

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him. 

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much. 

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think. 

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together. 

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed. 

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window. 

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick. 

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. 

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace. 

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious. 

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami. 

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time. 

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you. 

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute. 

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk. 

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you. 

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?” 

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol. 

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.”  the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.” 

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him. 

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.” 

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“ 

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.” 

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” 

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper. 

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?” 

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!” 

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

 “then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.” 

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?” 

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.” 

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…” 

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin. 

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles. 

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe. 

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo,  kids,”  he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy. 

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss. 

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss. 

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami. 

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,” 

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event. 

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office. 

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia. 

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper. 

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time. 

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you —  happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents. 

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.  

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home. 

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to. 

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift. 

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you. 

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him? 

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.” 

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.” 

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves  friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.” 

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.” 

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle. 

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly —  his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions. 

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays. 

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all. 

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.” 

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice. 

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as  just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?” 

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?” 

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.” 

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.” 

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?” 

“pardon?” 

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up. 

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.” 

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?” 

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady. 

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart. 

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.” 

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“ 

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.” 

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve. 

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple. 

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[mysicklove]

Summary: Yuuji has a bad day, and all he wants is for you to make him feel better <3

Warnings: cheesy/sappy writing!!!!!! like so cheesy. I can't help it. he makes me sick. slight dom/sub dynamics (reader being dominant), suggestiveness/talks about sex, kneeling + praise heavy, aged up! character! gn! reader

Wc: 2.0k

A/N: i saw this in my drafts and just wanted to finish it up before starting my other wips. i am lovesick with him, do not mind me. i am actually embarrassed at how sappy this is

art here! by @mpsql - super super super cute!!! <333

Yuuji was exhausted. It was just one of those days that seemed to drag out – the watch Nanami gifted to him seemed to tick as slowly as possible. Nothing was going his way, and although he never made a fuss to the people around him, he still was frustrated by all the events. 

But now he was home –  he didn’t have to worry about those things anymore. He could crawl up to you, and with the gentle caress of your fingers through his hair, he was bound to be left thoughtless. Or maybe you would touch him tonight – he has been good, so he doesn’t suppose that it was out of the question. 

He takes a deep breath, snapping out of his thoughts – getting a hard-on would not be appropriate right now. The man opens the door to your shared apartment, mumbling out a greeting and scanning the room. He calls your name, setting down his bag and walking toward the living room. You pop your head out of the office, wearing your blue light glasses. “Ah! Welcome home, love,” you call, smiling at your boyfriend, “I am doing some work right now, but dinner is in the oven. You are welcome to eat it without me. Gotta finish this!”

He doesn’t say anything, but a frown pulls at his lips. Suddenly, he feels his previous emotions resurfacing just from the sound of your voice and the familiar warmth of his home. Itadori pads over to you, ignoring the wafting smell in the kitchen until he stands directly next to you. Then, he grabs the back of your rolling chair and flips it away from the screen. You blink at him in surprise, being torn away from your work. “Yuuji?”

His lip wobbles at the concern in your voice, and the boy immediately falls to his knees in front of you without a word. He presses his head against your clothed thigh and wraps his arms around your waist. “Just….bad day.”

You frown at him and place your hand on his head, gently petting him. “Poor thing,” you coo, and his whole body shivers, but he nods into your leg. “Do you want me to do anything for you?”

He thinks back to his previous idea: sex. Something that he was opposed to, but now, in the moment, he didn’t crave it as much. He wants your touch –  he always does, loving physical affection more than anything, but maybe tonight, it didn’t need to go below the waist. He was content just being close to you.  

“No. But, can I stay here?” Itadori asks, voice soft and barely above a whisper. He was content in this position, finding that it strangely made him feel small, and your words made him feel safe. 

You cock your head to the side, slightly confused. “Kneeling? You might get uncomfortable.”

He blinks at you, shaking his head stubbornly. “No, ‘s fine. Like it down here.”

You grin at him, now using both hands to rub through his hair and gently massage his scalp just the way he likes it. “Does it have anything to do with what you are facing?”

He eyes at your crotch for a split second and then looks up at you, a small pout on his face. “‘I’m not some perv, you know.”

“Just teasing you,” you sigh, ruffling his hair slightly. “Anyways, I have to do work, Yuuji. I can’t keep petting you.”

He yawns into your leg and sighs. “It’s alright. I’ll sit and be quiet.” Then, he closes his eyes, cheeks pressed against your thigh, content. 

You face back toward the computer screen, not paying attention to the boy who seemed to be pressing himself impossibly closer to you. Ten minutes go by, and you are more than surprised to not hear Yuuji’s usual light snore. He tended to fall asleep pretty easily, so it was shocking that he was awake right now – you dont comment on it, letting him rest his eyes.

But his silence doesn’t last much longer than that. His dark eyes peer open, and he glances up at you. His voice is soft, as if afraid that you will be upset at him for distracting you. “Can you do the thing?”

“Hmm?”

“Where you uh…compliment me.” 

Your eyes flicker to him, and you notice the tips of his ears turning a shade of red. “You want me to praise you?”

He readjusts himself on the floor nervously, but nods his head. A hand returns back to his head and the boy seems to melt at the touch, eyes already fluttering shut again. “Well, I suppose it’s not hard to. I could list about fifty things I love about you without even thinking about it.”

He gulps, face now a bright shade of pink, and sighs into your pants. “Me too.”

You trace the tips of his ears with your pointer finger. “Cute,” you say, smiling at him as your computer screen darkens with its lack of use. “Hmmm. Where do I begin?” you ask yourself rhetorically, and Yuuji waits in silence, trying not to buzz with excitement. 

He readjusts himself on the floor, pressing more of his muscled frame on top of your lap. It reminded you of a great dane trying to be a lap dog, because they believed they were the size of a chihuahua. It’s cute, and you didn’t mind his extra weight. “Well, I guess I could start with how kind you are, but that sort of a no-brainer.”

 “’s not,” Yuuji mumbles into your pants.

“No? I disagree; everyone knows Yuuji Itadori is kind. It’s been like that since high school and probably before that. The boy who makes everyone feel comfortable. Who radiates warmth, light, and happiness. Y’know, you could easily compare to the sun.”

Yuuji squirms in your lap, making a small noise of complaint. “Now you are just exaggerating.”

You beam at him, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” Your fingers ghost over his lips before he tries to argue again, and he remains quiet at the gentle warning. “I think you are very pretty Yuuji.”

You use both of your hands to cup his face, rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks that were warming up steadily. He wants to complain about the word choice, but he finds himself remaining silent, finding the compliment strangely endearing to him. He has been called handsome before, hot even, but pretty was not common. You preferred to call him cute most of the time, which he has grown to love even if most men didn’t. 

You lean down and press your lips to his hair. “Your hair is pretty, soft, and easy to pet.” Then you move down to his eyes, kissing at the scars beneath them and his eyelids when he instinctively shuts them. “Your eyes are pretty, a warm shade of brown, or maybe an amber color?”

He squints at you, one eye remaining shut from where your thumb pads just below it. “I just call them brown.”

You pout at him. “Aw, you're no fun! They are much more than brown, and you know it. Now, your nose.” You peck the tip of it, and he blinks at you, waiting for what you are to say next. “Hmm, I guess I don’t have too much to say about it, but it is really cute.”

“I like your nose a lot,” Yuuji interrupts, and you bark a small laugh. In return for his remark, you teasingly press your thumbs into the corner of his eyes when you catch him staring at it. He shuts his eyes with a whine, trying to pull away.

You breathe out another laugh and then move your fingers again to trace his skin, peppering it with small kisses. You go back to complimenting him. “The prettiest skin, with the cutest scar beneath your eyes.”

“Dont remind me,” Yuuji grumbles, thinking about his time with the curse. He was exorcised a while ago, and Yuuji can safely say that he enjoys being able to think for himself once again. Plus, the flirty comments about you from the king did not sit well with the boy.

He shifts on the floor again from the thought, and you frown. “Are you sure you don't want me to grab you a pillow for your knees?”

When you try to stand up, he simply presses more of his weight onto you – successfully pinning you to the chair. He looks at you with a small pout, “I said I was fine. I was comfortable in that position!”

You pinch his cheeks with a teasing smile, ignoring his small whines of protest. “So whiny. I just want to make sure you dont get bruises on your knees. Could lead to some misunderstanding, hm?”

He looks away, rolling his eyes but smiling again. “You have a dirty mind.”

“Y’know, I can’t help it when it comes to you.”

His cheeks flush again, and he groans into your pants. “Please dont tease me. You know how easy it is for me to get turned on.”

Your nails drag over his neck, and he does a full-body shiver, while he hides his face in your leg again. But you continue running your fingers over his shoulder and down his back. Then, you tilt his chin up to look at you. “Dont hide. I am not done praising you.”

“Sorry,” Yuuji mumbles, trying not to gulp at the way your thumb drags over his lips. He keeps looking away, but also leaning closer in hopes that you may kiss him. It was so easy to in this position.

“Did I compliment your whole face already?” you ask, knowing the answer. You have kissed and praised every facial feature except for his lips. 

He was waiting for you to finally kiss him for real. Your lips grazed every part of his face except his own. So, he shakes his head and blinks at you. “Uh, you haven’t said anything about my lips yet…”

You cock your head to the side, frowning at him. “No? I am sure I did.”

You were teasing him – he knew it. You knew that he wanted you to kiss him, and you were being purposefully cruel. But, Yuuji was known to getting straight to the point. “Please kiss me now.”

A laugh falls from your lips at the whiny demand, and you shake your head with a grin. But, you listen and lean forward and peck at his lips. Yuuji pouts at you, furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head. It wasn’t the type of kiss he wanted, and the both of you knew that. “You were so nice earlier. Why are you teasing me now?”

Your thumbs rub at his eyebrows, smoothing them out until he relaxes them. “You make it too easy.”

“Can you kiss me for real?” Your thumb continues to rub at his lip, and you stare at it, waiting. Yuujis face was flushed from embarrassment, and his tongue runs over his teeth before he says, “Please?”

And with that, you smile at him and gently press your mouth to his. This time you dont pull away and instead let Yuuji lead the pace. He, like you expected, nearly pounces on you, tilting his head up and placing his hands on the back of your hair. He makes a small moaning noise and pushes himself closer to you until his knees hover above the floor so that he can reach your mouth more easily.

You are the first to pull away, and he tries to follow you, chasing the trail of saliva connecting you two. Pants leave your mouth, and you laugh breathlessly as he obviously waits to kiss you again. You lean back in your chair, and to this, Yuuji leans forward, now resting his arms on either side of your legs.

The action makes you raise your eyebrows, and you gently squeeze his cheeks together, shaking your head. “You are quite spoiled.” 

He frowns at you, upset that you dont want to kiss some more. “Not spoiled enough,” he mumbles, and at this, you laugh while he continues to pout, even when you let go of his cheeks.

Your hand goes back to tracing the skin on his face, and Yuuji leans into the touch like he is some sort of cat. “Is there anywhere else you want me to praise, Yuuji?”

The comment was meant to be lighthearted, hoping that you could compliment something he was insecure about. But, the boy, in return, pauses for a moment and looks at you with wide puppy dog-like eyes before slowly dragging his hands down his body until his hands touch his crotch. He gulps and says, “I think, um–I think here needs some attention too…”

Your lips curl up in a grin. “Aw, I thought you said you weren’t a pervert?”

He thinks back to what you said earlier and lets out a small laugh. “Y’know, I can’t help it when it comes to you.”

Your lips are back onto his in an instant. It always ends up like this: Yuuji says that maybe he didn’t need sex tonight, but somehow, one way or another, the two of you end up in bed together. He didn’t mind it one bit.

[jaylaxies]

ENHYPEN REACTION: to you being in the rival house at Hogwarts

PAIRING: enhypen hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slytherin!hee with gryffindor!reader, slytherin!jay with hufflepuff!reader, ravenclaw!jake with gryffindor!reader, gryffindor!sunghoon with slytherin!reader

WC: 4.7k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 this was requested by my anonnie here and i loved writing about enha and hogwarts omg! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Slytherin!Heeseung x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Headboy x Headgirl

Heeseung was beyond elated when he got his letter back at the manor, stating how he had become the head boy of Hogwarts. His family of pure bloods were even prouder, however, his cocky smirk dropped the second he met with the entirety of the prefectorial board at the Hogwarts express, prefect compartment to be precise.

Seeing you standing there with the batch stating ‘head girl’ was not something he wanted to see, not when you were someone who came from a non wizarding background, someone who was in Gryffindor.

How could they make you the head girl? How could they think he’d be willing to spend his time working with you of all people. His hatred for your likes was visible from day one, his taunts and threats didn’t bother you, and that’s exactly what bothered him. The urge to make your life living hell was his motto more or less, even more so this year.

“It’s absurd, man. Let her be now, it’s our last year here for Godric’s sake,” Jay huffed out, irritated that Heeseung couldn’t shut up about the new Gryffindor quidditch captain giving you too much attention despite your blood status.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, why do people like her anyway? What happened to keeping the muggles away from the likes of us?” He gritted his teeth, accidentally stabbing the piece of chicken too hard with his fork at dinner. The sight of you snuggling close to the said captain infuriated him more than he let on.

“Well, she’s not a muggle if she can do magic, and extraordinarily well at that,” Jay offered, having done with Heeseung being a dimwit and not realizing the truth behind his anger.

“Wow, thanks for the support, mate,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, looking back at you again.

He’d make sure to wipe that smile off of your face while taking rounds later—at least that’s what he promised himself. Taking rounds was probably the time he looked forward to the most, given that it was the perfect time to criticize and show hatred towards you.

However, the second you meet up at the staircase, telling him to divide areas since you do not wish to work with him anymore, he loses it. He completely loses it, scoffing and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the room of requirement right behind you.

“What the fuck—” you tried to scream, but he was quick to cover your mouth with his hand.

“What? Can’t even look my way now that you have a quidditch captain chasing you around?” He scoffs, eyes full of hatred, the kind you had never seen before and it made you scoff.

“Well, newsflash, Lee. I never wanted to look your way from the very start. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s you who’s clearly obsessed with me,” you seethed out, not caring about the proximity despite your breathing getting heavier.

“Ah? Me obsessed with the likes of you? Don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he said, tone almost challenging, his hold on your wrist tight, just like the hand that was grabbing your waist now, making you gulp but not back down.

“So, it shouldn’t matter to you if I snog my quidditch captain, or more,” you whispered with a smug smile, feeling his hand squeezing your waist tighter.

“You cannot do that,” he warned.

“Oh but I did—”

You couldn’t finish your statement and nor could Heeseung control his actions anymore, pressing you up against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you in the messiest way he could muster to mush out all the sane thoughts coming his way.

This was the sanest he had felt in ages.

“You’re fucking mine,” he groaned against your lips.

“No, fuck I’m not,” you smirked, testing him further, loving how he had finally given in to the truth—that he wanted you.

The room of requirement was sly, preparing a bed as he pushed you on it, getting on top of you while getting rid of his robes, “oh, babe, I’ll show you who you belong to.”

“Took you way too long, Lee,” you chuckled, gasping the second he pushed your panties aside, feeling your wetness on his fingers with a smirk.

“Been waiting, eh?” He asked, cocky as he pushed two fingers in with ease, your back arching as you moaned.

“Talk about yourself,” you smirked, pulling him into another rough kiss, messy of all sorts as he sucked on your tongue, pumping his own cock by lubricating it with your wetness.

He wasted no time, in aligning himself to your entrance, pushing his cock in one go to bottom out, groaning at the tightness that squeezed him, thrusting almost instantly when he saw nothing but pleasure on your face with a promise to claim you his.

“Fuck, I knew you’d make a perfect whore, always so desperate for my attention,” he groaned, snapping his hips to yours, the noise resonating the room.

“You can’t even thrust properly, ah—” he sped up to shut your mouth, your toes curling as you held on to him for support, chanting his name like a mantra the whole time as he proved just how much and how well he can fuck you.

All night.

Slytherin!Jay x Hufflepuff!reader

Trope: Animagi Jay

It took him a lot of patience.

In fact, it took everyone in his friend group a lot of patience to keep their mouths shut for a whole month, a single mandrake leaf resting in their mouths. However, they wanted to do something iconic, which would be—turning into an animagus to cause trouble whilst being unregistered at that. The whole process was tedious.

Jay was losing his last bit of sanity, watching you smiling softly and being kind to others, which was a usual thing per se.

The only problem was how he couldn’t verbally bother you.

It was known to be his favourite pastime, inserting himself in your life and bothering you for existing.

Why? Because that’s what he should do, being a slytherin. He had a personality he needed to live up to, and he knew hell would break if anyone as much as gets a hint about Jay’s infatuation with you.

The solution? To make sure he says the meanest things so he wouldn’t have to see your smile. You don’t get why he’s mean to you. His hatred goes as far as it concerns you, and you’ve never seen him calling anyone else names but you.

So, seeing you being happy and not once thinking about him since he put the leaf in his mouth had his blood boiling, especially when you agreed to attend Slughorn’s party with a random ravenclaw boy. The same party he was gonna ask you to attend with him—or bully you into attending with him, but the smile on your face gets him mad.

He scoffed, ignoring the whole situation and focusing on the transformation process, completely missing the look of sadness on your face when he left without even acknowledging your presence, his mind deep in different thoughts.

Of course you’d be happy without him.

However, the success in becoming an animagi had him smiling. He was a big black cat—a royal panther, while his other friends turned into a bird and a dog.

He went out to explore the place in his animal form, getting out of Hogwarts castle to visit the black lake, not once thinking that he would find you here at night.

Your back looked peaceful as you stared at the lake, and he was silent as he made his way towards you, almost scaring you the second you saw a black panther settling down next to you, a gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes shined under the moonlight.

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around before,” you spoke up, fascinated, extending your hand to stroke his fur.

Jay didn’t expect this, and he knew he didn’t have to pretend in this form, making him purr with pleasure as you gently caressed him. He was a cat after all. The warmth of your kindness was driving him crazy, he so desperately wanted you to like him back, but he knew you wouldn’t.

It became a routine for him to sneak out to meet you at night in his animal form, and he adored how you shared all your secrets with an animal, talking to him, letting him rest his head on your lap and as far as kissing his head in adoration.

He was in love with you.

He loved how you welcomed him with a pretty smile, the same smile which he wipes off your face in his human form.

Everything was going smoothly, to the point Jay had even started staring at you between classes, not being as rude as he used to be before and you never hesitated on smiling back at him, ever so kind. He wanted to talk to you, face to face, and confess.

However, that plan went down the drain. The same Ravenclaw boy was seen standing close to you, a conjured flower in his hand which he presented to you with a wide smile while Jay watched it unfold with the nastiest scowl on his face.

So being petty, Jay practically shoved you out of the way, not looking back even after hearing a little “ouch” coming from your direction as you stumbled, ignoring when you called out his name, rather proceeding to the next class.

He didn’t see you there, and he tried not to act affected by your absence, assuming that you’d have gone with the other guy, relaxing when he saw you in potions class again, his eyes never leaving your face which looked distressed. Especially after you took a sniff of the amortentia, the love potion.

His heart lurched, wondering if you smelled the other guy. And in his case, he knew he was doomed the second he took a sniff and instantly smelled of your body lotion and your favourite delicacy. His eyes met yours that very second and he had to gulp, looking elsewhere to pretend that he was fine.

That night, with a heavy heart, he sat down next to you in his animagi form yet again, this time he found you at the astronomy tower, a bandage around your arm.

“Hey, love,” you welcomed the black panther, “it’s such a pretty night,” you sighed dreamily, petting the panther next to you.

“You mind if I talk?” You asked, chuckling when the panther nodded as if he understood what you meant, “I don’t understand boys. I really like this guy but he’s been mean to me to see. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? That I smelled him in the love potion and he’s the reason why I stumbled and hurt my arm—I just can’t help it, I wish Jay would like me back but he doesn’t even look my way without wanting to look away or just comment about how I’m just a weak Hufflepuff girl,” you mumbled, not focusing on how the panther had stood up all of a sudden.

Jay’s heart thumped, he wasn’t sure if he heard it right, but it was too much, he couldn’t wait anymore.

He transformed back into his human form right there, your eyes widening as you opened your mouth to scream, which he put a hand over to muffle your voices.

“That—that was you!” You whisper-yelled, shoving him away.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, grabbing your wrist which made you lean against the wall, “that you like me?”

You could barely breathe, biting your lip as you nodded, “I know you hate me—”

“Oh, you know nothing, baby,” he chuckled, grabbing your nape and pulling you into a kiss, making your eyes widen before he pulled you even closer, making you kiss him back eventually, getting fervent with your actions.

“Fuck, I like you so much. It was you who I smelled, in the love potion, I mean. I’m sorry for being an asshole, I never knew how to handle feeling this way for you,” he apologized, cutting the kiss and leaning his forehead against yours.

Instead of replying, you pulled him into another kiss, letting his hands wander all over your body, his self control leaving his body. He knew he had you now, and he knew he wouldn’t be letting go, especially after the little whimpers leaving your mouth the second he started kissing your neck after leaving your lips all swollen.

You were too sensitive, too forgiving.

Rubbing your thighs together didn’t help either, but the second he squeezed your bare thigh, you knew you were gone. It was the ideal place for you both to be doing this, but stopping wasn’t an option, not when he was so passionately marking you just after you told him you rejected the other boy.

Spreading your legs was easy, asking you to be a good girl and keep your voices at bay was even easier for Jay, and you obliged, your eyes rolling back as he lapped at your cunt, licking big stripes while fucking your cunt with his fingers, trying to be gentle but you were too pent up to ask him to go slower, only urging him to move faster.

That’s how you spent your night, he took you to his chamber, kicking everyone out shamelessly to fuck you into the mattress, his cock not having enough of you and your pussy clenching him, trying to hold him in for as long as you could before you both reached your high.

He knew he fucked up before but now that he actually had you in his arms, he knew he was going to cherish you forever.

Ravenclaw!Jake x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Yule ball, fake dating

Jake was loved by everyone and he basked in the warmth of it. Being good in academics came naturally to him, he was a Ravenclaw after all. Adding to it, he was selected to represent Hogwarts at the triwizard championship, his fame and name more glorious than ever these days.

The problem? He had everyone’s attention but the girl who he claimed to have a tiny crush on.

He wanted to ask her to be his date for the Yule ball, however, the chances were slim as another Gryffindor boy named Heeseung, asked her right before Jake could even call out her name.

Jake wasn’t the only one suffering. You stood there beside him, watching the scene unfold with the same wrath in your eyes.

You wanted to go to the ball with Heeseung.

“Tough luck?” Jake asked, not sparing you a glance as you both watched him from a distance as they hugged gleefully.

“Talk about yourself, champ,” you crossed your arms, “she didn’t even think twice before saying yes,” you commented, jaw clenching, “she’s gonna get her heart broken, he’s gonna turn her into a situationship too.”

“What? We have to warn her,” Jake spoke, eyes widening.

“Oh, I tried, but she actually really likes Heeseung,” you huffed, “and here I thought I meant something to him.”

“Go with me,” Jake breathed out, finally looking your way, taking your beauty in.

“What?” You exclaimed, turning your head to look his way too.

He was beautiful, there’s no denying him. His hair was a bit on the messier side, lips pink and swollen from biting (he was nervous), and eyes full of hope.

“To make Heeseung jealous, of course!” He defended his statement and your eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh,” you let out, “so we’re doing all this fake dating thing, now?” You teased him, loving how his cheeks got redder but he only stepped closer, shrugging.

“We’ll have fun, you’ll get to be with the triwizard champion, it’s a win-win for you,” he offered, smirking and you smiled humorously.

“Sure,” you agreed, not paying attention to Heeseung who witnessed this interaction of yours.

It was easy to keep up with him, the rumours of you two being together spread like wildfire, especially with the Yule ball coming up, which only favoured you, granted that Heeseung had tried to approach you several times but Jake hadn’t left your side at all.

In fact, you were scared how easy it was to be in his company, “she wanted me to teach her how to ride the broom,” Jake had told you once, and he was one heck of a flyer, despite him not being in the team.

Naturally, you offered him to teach you that instead, watching how his eyes lit up and he nodded. Something about Jake was endearing to you—like how he helped you ride the broom with him sitting behind you. It felt real, too romantic the way he held on to you, smiling as he pointed out the various spots you could see from the height.

And you knew he felt it too, his heart pumping out of his chest as you rested your back against him.

It felt too real to him when you got him a tie that matched the colour of your dress, asking him to match with you, and he realized he had stopped thinking about the other girl completely as he helped you around with studies and you helped him feel alive.

Somewhere along the lines, you had forgotten that it was all fake, simply because it felt real to the both of you. The hand holding, the snuggling closer, the soft smiles on your faces, none of it was fake.

It didn’t hit you till you were on your way to meet Jake, only to find the other girl already talking to him in a corner, your jaw clenched at the sight of them talking about something you couldn’t make out from this distance. Your mind wasn’t sane as you stepped back and rushed to your own room, wondering if they had gotten together.

You knew it could very well be a misunderstanding, yet you didn’t do anything about it, especially when Jake didn’t come to meet you at all today.

You were slightly heartbroken as you woke up the next day, everyone seemed happy to the point they couldn’t stop talking about the Yule ball tonight, doing their hair and skincare already and you tried to join them, knowing that you can’t run away from it no matter what the situation would be.

Now, clad in your gown, you most certainly did feel better, looking in the mirror to find the prettiest version of yourself, you felt beautiful as you walked down the stairs, smiling gently when you found Jake waiting for you by the stairs.

His breathing hitched the second he saw you, eyes twinkling as he took you in, heart beating faster when you stood in front of him. It was magical how he took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently, “you look beautiful,” he whispered, your face heating up at the compliment.

So, you postponed asking him about the other girl, focusing solely on him as you were called for the first dance with Jake—the Hogwarts champion. He treated you well, he looked like the prettiest man alive, pulling you closer and dancing with you like he meant it when the rock band came out, but after a while, you stopped, pulling him out when he got you drinks to talk by some secluded area—a classroom nearby.

“I saw you guys talking,” you told him, admitting how you would be okay if he leaves you now and he how doesn’t need to put up this act anymore, making his heart lurch, “fuck—no! I asked her to stay away because,” he gulped as he met your eyes, “because I like you, not her.”

Everything felt rushed after, his lips on yours, your fingers in his hair, bodies pressed against one another as he messed up your lipstick, “I like you so much,” he kept mumbling between the kisses, lips trailing down to mark your neck.

He knew what he had to do—kiss every inch of you till you understood the depth of his words. He wants you so genuinely it makes your heart beat faster, his eyes full of earnestness as he comes up to kiss you again, but more than that, he wants to taste you, give you the pleasure you deserve.

Getting down on his knees was easy for him, getting under your gown even easier. You breathed in deeply when you felt him burying his nose in your pussy, pushing your panties aside to lick a stripe of your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit right after.

His movements were slow and calm, his hold on your thighs tight as he devoured you, seeming as if he’d be hungry for ages. You could have sworn you never felt this way before, gripping the table you were leaning against tightly, you tried your best not to fall down with how your knees were getting weaker by the second as his tongue was pushing around much faster than before.

“Jake—” you gasped, seeing stars as you finally came undone, your whole body felt as if it was on fire but Jake was just getting started with you.

Getting out, he looked more disheveled than ever, taking your hand and making you feel his hardened cock, “see what you do to me, baby,” he whispered, pulling you into another kiss, unzipping your dress as you cried about how much you need him.

Soon, your dress was on the ground and his body was connected with yours in a slow rhythm, full of lazy kisses and smiles, your face hidden in his neck as you bit him to conceal your moans when he hit that one spot which had your whole body weak.

You looked so beautiful, it made him lose his control, the sight itself had him twitching with the need to fill you up.

When you kissed him again, he finally let go, loving each second of it, knowing that you were truly his now.

Gryffindor!Sunghoon x Slytherin!reader

Trope: quidditch players, enemies to fwb

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

“Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!”

The chants were loud, the crowd going wild at the sight of you and Sunghoon circling around each other before the game—something you always did as a challenge. It most certainly didn’t help that you were on par with each other, both chasers for your respective houses.

Watching you guys bicker was something everyone enjoyed, especially when it was about your houses and their reputations.

“You better watch out, Park,” you smirked, taking your position, “Slytherin is taking the win today,” you sang, watching his smirk grow.

“In your dreams, darling,” he whispered, winking at your right as the whistle blew.

The chants were loud and so was your motivation as you grabbed the Quaffle, successfully throwing it in one of the hoops as the crowd cheered. Watching Sunghoon scowl was a sweet treat, especially when you winked at him, passing by with the quaffle again.

The game continued for a while, your house leading by thirty points, much to Sunghoon’s dismay. You were having more fun teasing him rather than playing the actual game.

However, the second the snitch was caught by your seeker, Sunghoon got hit by a bludger, falling off his broom. You should have been celebrating his downfall (pun intended) yet you couldn’t help but worry, eyeing his figure while your team celebrated their win.

It was out of character for you to visit him in the hospital wing, but you did it, showing up with the pudding he liked—and you had no clue why you knew it. He was surprised to see it, looking away with a scoff, “why are you here, huh? To boast about your win?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, “I came here to see if you were doing well but seeing as you can still work that mouth of yours, I’ll just assume it’s alright,” you huffed, leaving the pudding behind. Sunghoon gulped, watching you leave the hospital wing with a huff before eyeing the pudding and eating it, a sudden warmth spreading in his chest.

The bickering worsened since that day, because you had to overcome the fact that you showed care to him, your friends telling you to fuck the sexual tension out—which you won’t do even in your wildest dreams.

Sunghoon was just as furious cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you showing up at the hospital wing just to visit him, his taunts and that smirk annoying you more than ever now, you just wanted to punch him, or shut him up. It didn’t help that he looked awfully attractive with that smirk of his.

Fighting even during the dinner time was getting on everyone’s nerves, to the point you had to go to detention for pulling pranks on each other.

To diffuse this tension, he met you before the next quidditch match you had against him, “oh, ready to have your ass beat, Park?” You asked him with a mock smile.

“We’ll see who gets their ass beat, darling,” he spoke, invading your personal space by whispering in your ear, “let’s make a bet, if I win then I get to fuck you tonight.”

“What the fuck, Park?” You asked, eyes widened.

“You want it too, baby.” He says, a lazy smirk playing on his face, “besides, I won’t bother you ever again if I lose. So, do we have a deal?”

The deal was too tempting, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that you’ll, (1) either be ignored by him or (2) have sex with him.

You grabbed his hand, shaking it with no aim whatsoever, you felt too lost but also determined to put up a good game.

However your mind was busy imagining his lips on yours, the smirk still present on his face, and that’s how you barely put the Quaffle in through the hoops while Sunghoon played with more energy than ever, awfully determined to win the match—win you.

The verdict? He won.

And as lost as you felt, you weren’t sad about it, in fact you were staring at Hoon who was celebrating, his eyes still on yours with that stupid smirk on his face which clearly said: you’re mine for the night.

Being in his room was crazy, the fact that he had successfully pushed out all his roomies was even crazier.

“Not fighting back anymore, kitten?” He raised his brows, his features looking sharper up close now that he had you under him, his weight on you barely giving you any space to move, his scent only driving you crazier.

“You’re the one who gave up, Park,” you finally whispered, pulling him closer by the collar with your usual expression full of mock, your finger tracing his jawline, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “you proposed the idea of fucking me—been thinking about me then?”

His fingers traced the curve of your neck, trailing down till he settled on grabbing your waist, “what if I have? What if I wanna see you shut the fuck up when I make you cry on my cock?”

“I’d like to see you try,” you chuckled, pushing your knee up to caress against his crotch, making him hiss.

It didn’t take him any longer to practically rip off your robes, attaching his mouth to your nipples, flicking them with his tongue as he cupped your cunt as a warning to shut your mouth, but you couldn’t let him win, opening your mouth to mock him again, only to have his tongue shoved down your throat, his fingers kneading your flesh, rubbing your wetness with all his strength to have you whimpering under him.

“I hate you so much, Park,” you mumbled, breathless.

“Feeling’s mutual, kitten,” he groaned right beside your ear, finger fucking you now as his thumb worked your clit roughly, yet giving you the kind of pleasure you never thought you’d receive.

You feel hot as the guy you hate makes you moan uncontrollably, stopping right before you were about to reach your high with his same stupidly attractive smirk when you whined out of desperation.

“What’s the hurry, kitten? We’ve got all night.”

© jaylaxies | tumblr