#ignore the fact that I am 2 days late...

[sheila-is-my-wife-and-my-life]

Day 31

[atlcscp]

Applejack! :D love her design :]

Click for better quality!! :]

Day 1: Fruit :]

[the-trans-dragon]

How do I ask for a raise and also how much of a raise is appropriate

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Touch (Part 2)

Miguel O'Hara x reader

GIF by milesmoralespilled

(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel tries to win you over. It doesn't go as planned.

warnings: pwp!!, light f-dom, praise kink, fem receiving oral, slight m-sub, lots and lots of begging. Miguel is a switchy mess bc i said so. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I am so normal about him!

wc: 2.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You avoid him like the plague. 

The next day, he wakes up to an empty house with you leaving for work earlier than usual. He traipses around the apartment, looking for you before he realises he is chasing your ghost: the traces of scent left on sheets. And he is shameless when he walks into your shared bedroom, rolling around in your heady perfume and pressing the rumpled bedsheets to his nose. Aching, always. 

His own work takes him out of the apartment for most of the day, but he makes a point to slip away early. Little things, mostly: the bodega down the street for your favourite noodles, fresh lilies from a florist on the way, and some chocolate and sweet things to say sorry. He sets up in the kitchen, putting the flowers in water; hands flying on the chopping board to make dinner in time for when you come home. 

Miguel is a careful man; very particular about the way he lives his life. As such, he hunkers down a plan to apologise, showering you with affection and attention to make up for the past few weeks. He wants to be home when you get back, welcoming and warm before he slips out for his… night shift. His other job, that you are just as important as, a fact he wants you to remember.

He can hear you a couple floors down, the tell-tale click of your heels down the corridor and into the elevator. He scrambles to the front room, lounging on the sofa but ready to take your coat off and ask about your day. To go through the routine you had before all the late nights and lonely evenings. 

"Evening, mi vida." He looks expectantly towards you as you walk in. "How was work?" 

You kick off your shoes and breeze into the bedroom - without so much of a glance at him. Deflating, he watches as you shut the door behind you. Miguel sinks into the sofa cushions, sighing in frustration. 

~~~

And it stays like that for the next couple of days: you make it a point to ignore him. Short curt responses after work; Yes Miguel, No Miguel, I put it on the counter, Miguel. He misses the pout of your lips, the pet names, hell, he'd take it if you shouted and screamed at him to take the edge off. Nary a Miggy in sight. You give him nothing. 

Ever perceptive, he notices the little things. You still make his lunch when you can, and leave out food for him when he has a late night and forgets to eat. Small, gentle reminders that you care for him. Not that he ever doubted it, of course. 

When he clambers in through the back window, the one you always leave open for him, it's late. He clutches his side, groaning at a nasty bruise at his ribs. His mask comes off in the dim light, and he rubs his temples. Sore and exhausted, he pads through to the kitchen. 

Despite the lack of adrenaline, his senses are perfectly attuned. He smells it first: the sticky scent of arousal, so fresh he can taste it in the air. There's rustling, and as he pads closer to the bedroom door, he is almost bowled over by the obscene sounds of your fingers buried in your cunt. The door is slightly ajar, and he watches you on silk sheets with the light of the moon spilling onto your frame. One hand clamped over your mouth, the other curling into your pussy, and your eyes screwed tightly shut. His legs weaken at the knees when he realises you're in one of his sweatshirts, desperately humping your hand for release. 

For the past week, you've barely spoken to him, let alone touched him. He's reminded of that when his cock throbs in his suit. He palms himself absentmindedly, the heel of his hand providing juust the right amount of pressure, before catching himself. He feels like a pervert, watching you get off like this, desperate to bury his tongue between your thighs. Space, you need space, and he is trying his hardest to give it to you. Shaking his head, he tears himself away. 

Until he hears a heart-wrenching moan erupt from beyond the door, that is. You curse quietly, Spanish swear words you've clearly heard from Miguel. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry when you quicken your pace - trying to chase that high. You're frustrated, he can tell, removing the hand at your mouth to squeeze your tits through his sweatshirt. 

With a flash of pink tongue, he wets his lips and gently opens the door wider, leaning on its door frame. You are too occupied to notice him watching, hand on his cock through his suit. And he just waits for a moment, eyes hungry as he matches your speed when he rubs himself through the fabric. Your hips arch slightly, making his cock jump. 

"Mierda, baby." He breathes and your eyes snap open, as you remove your hand with a hiss. 

Miguel stands at your door, windswept hair, beautifully flushed and ruined - all from just watching. He continues to palm himself shamelessly, never breaking eye contact. 

"S'not enough, is it?" He says, shakily. 

He's right and you know it. You can't cum, no matter how hard you try, because it's not the same. Not the same as your boyfriend's long fingers and thick cock pounding into you, persistent. 

He stalks closer and repeats himself. "Not enough for my princesa, hmm?" 

You groan, covering your face. "Miguel-"

"-fuck off, I know, I know." He sinks to his knees in front of you, by your side of the bed. "Let me help you, mi vida."

You hesitate. He looks gorgeous in the half light: hair tousled, looking up at you through heavy eyes. Despite your better judgment, you get closer, legs spread and hanging off the edge of your bed. 

"You want me to beg? Because I will, princesa, I will. Te necesito tanto, tan desesperadamente. I need you so much it hurts. Look, please," He reaches over to paw at your thighs with big, gloved hands. The scent of your cum is overpowering this close - heady and addictive with his enhanced senses. 

"...l-look at what you do to me. Turn me into a mess, can't think about anything else. Solo en ti, princesa. Only you." 

You card your fingers in his hair and he is reverent. Migeul babbles in broken English like a madman, barely taking a breath. You feel the familiar heat of arousal in your gut. He's making you wet, without even trying. 

Cruelly, you jerk his head into your pussy, and he laps you open with a ready tongue. He moans into it, sucking at your clit and lips as you hump his face. His own hips cant at the same pace you've set, rubbing his tented lower half onto the bed frame for some relief. 

Slobbering and messy, he moans into your cunt - hands on your ass to push you further onto his face. He's eating you out like a man starved - and the noises he makes are pornographic. You squeeze your thighs around his head, and he almost cums right then, his hips bucking dramatically upwards with a groan. Watching him unravel is too much to bear, and so you tug at his hair, separated with a wet pop. Head tilted slightly back, chin and mouth glistening with your wetness, he flashes his fangs at you with a lazy grin. You're both panting, breathless from the carnality of it all. 

You clench around nothing; so, so close. 

He wipes his slick mouth with a forearm, before placing his head by your knees. 

"Look how pretty you are, mi sol." He slaps your pussy, watching it pulse in response. "So wet. Is this all for me?" 

Hesitantly, you bite your lip and nod. Miguel rubs circles into the meat of your thigh, sucking hickies into the skin. 

"I can make you feel so good," He whispers into your skin - so tender it makes you shiver. "I just want to make you feel good. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Sé que soy tuyo para siempre mi señorita hermosa. I'm yours… fuck… I-I'm yours…"

You won't be able to wrench him from your cunt; you know that much. When he gets like this, delirious from the heat of your two bodies together in the low light, he turns into something else entirely. Maybe it's to do with his changed DNA, something more than human at the crook of his chest - animalistic and primal. 

You cradle his cheek, so he's forced to look up at you. 

"I want you in me, Miggy. Want it to hurt."

His eyes flutter shut as he nods frantically, moving to stand up. You help him out of his suit, snug around his crotch until his cock springs free. His tip is an angry red and weeping so much precum it spills onto the sheets. His frame is delicious; broad shoulders and strong arms, stocky with the muscle of his thighs and solid middle. Miguel is beautifully tan, with the prettiest cock you think you've ever seen. Long, thick, and curved to the side. You've dreamt about the way he hits your spongy walls in all the right places. 

He helps you out of his sweatshirt, with expert fingers. He practically drools at the swell of your tits, kneading them with one palm as he clambers over you. There's a content sigh as he rubs his cock, sticky with precum, over your slit; head back and hips moving like water. He pulls a moan out of you when he finally - finally - fills you up in one swift movement. 

"Mierda, baby, does that feel good?" He croons, rubbing slow circles into your clit. His answer comes when you clench around his cock, creating a creamy ring around its base. He crouches to nip at your skin with his fangs, rolling his hips into yours. 

He knows your body better than you do, and it feels good. You claw at his back in pleasure, babbling his name into the crook of his neck. But it's not enough. It's like he knows when you're on the edge, about to come, slowing his hips until they simply grind on your clit, rutting against you. It's cruel, and it causes tears well up in your eyes. 

"F-Faster. Please." He just keeps grunting, barely speeding up. A slow, steady, relentless pace, picking up his hips until his cock is almost out of your hole, before filling you in one firm movement. 

He keeps going, and going, until your hips shake and your bodies heave with the effort. His back is red and raw with scratches as your pleas fall on deaf ears. 

"Harder, Miguel. Please, baby, I need it. F-Faster. Want it to hurt." You sob softly, drunk on pleasure.

He kisses up the tears that fall. "I know, mi vida. But it's not what you need right now, hmm?" 

He whispers soft praises into your tits, your collarbone, the fat of your cheeks. Anywhere and everywhere that needs it: so he can tell you how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. He swallows up your moans with his lips on yours, sending you over the edge. That tight string at your gut snaps, and you cum so hard you see stars. 

He doesn't stop, picking up the pace in the aftershock of your spasms. You can tell he's trying hard not to follow, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls out with a shaky moan. 

"One more, f'me, baby. Una más para mí, just one more." 

You hum into his kiss, and he hooks his hands under your knees. Placing your legs over his shoulders, he sinks back into you with a satisfied grunt. Now, he pounds into you - the slap-slap of your ass against his hips resounding in your little bedroom. You make a mess, creamy cum spilling where your bodies connect. You force him deeper, harder, with a hand on his neck. 

"M'close, Miggy." You tug the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

"Good girl, good fucking girl." His hips stutter when he feels you clench at his words. "I want to cum with you, princesa. Can I cum? Please, baby, c-can I cum?" 

Gently nodding, you wrap a hand around his throat and pull him in for a kiss - so consuming and heady it makes you want to sink into his skin. You clamp down on his cock, and his pace slurs; before Miguel spills his warm cum deep into your cunt. His hips still, and he curls into you, deepening the kiss. 

Exhausted, you separate, side by side. Still sticky with his cum, he wraps you up in his arms, pressing shaky kisses to your temple. 

"I love you." He says, gently. 

"Doesn't feel like it, sometimes." You breathe. 

You both lay there, completely still. He furrows his brow, terse with the words he wants to say but can't. All he can do is pull you closer, and envelope you in the warmth of his skin. 

"Miggy?" You say after a while. 

He hums. 

"I love you too." 

_

_

_

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo going berserk after his wife got injured

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: slight injury, language, Gojo being really mad lol

Notes: My dearest @hitori979, this one is dedicated to you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me since day 0, always liking and commenting my brainrot. I hope you enjoy this fanfic as a little thank you from me 🤍 How other JJK men react when (y/n) gets hurt here Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

„Do you really have to go, babe?“, Satoru’s oh so sweet voice mumbles against your neck.

You know exactly what he’s up to. Satoru always acts this way when you’re about to leave for a mission. How much he hates to see you walk through the door. While he’s fully aware of the fact that you’re a damn strong jujutsu sorcerer, he just dislikes the thought of you getting injured on some stupid mission. If he had it his way, you would stay at home, maybe teach here and there at Jujutsu High, but that’s it.

You are way too precious to risk your life on a mission.

“You know I have to. This is my job, remember? And I have to let you go every day, knowing that you’re not even paying attention. May I remind you that I haven’t been injured for over a year?”, you softly reply.

“That’s not true, I am paying attention!”

You raise your eyebrow demandingly by the way he ignored your last question.

“At least sometimes…Come on babe, this is not fair! Just because you haven’t been injured for some time doesn’t mean you won’t get injured today! Also, I wanted to spend the day with you!”, he complains, arms wrapped around your frame so tightly that it’s getting hard to breathe.

“You always want to spend the day with me. As much as I’d love to stay here, I have to go. Megumi will assist me.”

“I should assist you…”, he mumbles.

“They wouldn’t even send me, then”, you chuckle.

“Promise that you’ll text me, I already threatened Megumi to take care of you.”

“I will, darling. Now let me go or I’ll be late.”

With one last grumble and kiss, he finally lets go of you while you smile to yourself. God, how much you adore your husband. Even though it can be quite challenging from time to time, you admire the way he cares about you.

“I love you”, you shout before you close the door behind you.

“Love you too!”

-later-

“Don’t worry, one or two hours and we’ll be done with this”, you reassure Megumi who stands beside you.

“This doesn’t look good”, he comments.

Unfortunately, he’s right. You don’t know why there are so many curses around, but an uneasy feeling spreads in your guts. This isn’t the right place for a grade 2 sorcerer, let alone a first class student. Well, maybe even you…

“Try to stay behind me. This will get ugly”, you instruct Megumi when another wave of curses appears.

“Gojo-sensei will kill me if you get injured because of me.”

You wink at him while as you unsheathe your sword.

“Who said I will?”

Without wasting another precious minute you sprint forwards, eyes darting around the area. There are so many, way too fucking many, curses around here. This isn’t normal, something is very wrong here. But you don’t have time to think about it any further – Megumi’s and your life depend on your abilities.

You fight off more than 40 curses with ease, slashing your sword over and over. Fuck, this has no end. As soon as you exorcise one curse, two more appear on your sides and try to attack you. With every passing minute it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you won’t be able to complete this mission unscathed with Megumi alone.

“Here are many curses around, I can’t explain why though. It wouldn’t hurt to send some help”, you instruct into your headphone, fully aware of the fact that your husband is able to hear your decent cry for help as well and might freak out.

Where do all of these curses come from? This is a public place, it shouldn’t be possible for them to develop here this well. Expect this aren’t traditional curses…

“I won’t lie to you: Something’s off here. I’m not entirely sure if these are normal curses. Just stand your ground, I already informed the higher ups about this”, you inform Megumi with firm voice, fighting off a curse just before it is able to scratch your face open.

They come from all directions, almost absorbing you. Desperately you fight back with all your abilities, holding onto your sword so tight that your knuckles stand out white. You have to get through all of these curses, you have to find out why they’re here and why on earth so numerous.

But you can’t. Your thoughts wander to Satoru and his words this morning. He’ll definitely go insane when he hears about this. And for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you by that thought. Because this means he’ll come here and end this madness without Megumi getting hurt.

Megumi.

You almost miss the way a curse lunges from behind towards him while he’s busy fighting off three other ones at the same time. Instinctively you sprint forwards as fast as your feet carry you, breath going sharp and fast. No way in hell this thing will hurt Megumi. Not when you’re in charge.

“Bend over!”, you scream on top of your lungs, blade already on its way to cut through that curse.

But just before you hit it, its claws find their way into your face, scratching your forehead slightly before it falls to the ground lifelessly.

You hiss, a stinging pain crawling up your skin. But when you gently scan the spot with your fingertips, only a minor stain of blood shows itself. You let out your breath, relief flooding your body. This is nothing serious, nothing to worry about.

But before you sprint back in action, a reflex holds you back.

“Don’t move an inch, Megumi”, you warn the boy next to you.

In the split of a second, a wave of hollow purple rushes past your orbs, killing every curse on its way. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s him. It has to be him.

“(y/n)!”, he cries out, large frame suddenly by your side.

“What is this?”, he hisses.

Frantically, his eyes scan your forehead, widen in blank horror.

“Oh, this? Just a minor wound, nothing to worry ab-“

“Nothing to worry about!? You promised to be careful, you promised not to get hurt!”, he literally scolds you while his fingertips inspect your wound.

“Stop that”, you warn him, slapping his hand away.

“I did the best I could but they were just too many. And there are always more to come, look.”

Not even a minute later, dozens of new curses begin to flood the streets.

“We need to get back to work!”

“No”, he interrupts you roughly.

“Not you, you’ll stay here.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth too stunned to speak for a second. He can’t be serious, right? This is your mission. You won’t give up because a small wound on your forehead that isn’t even bleeding severely.

“This is my mission, Satoru. I will help you exorcising these curses”, you state in all seriousness.

“Oh yeah? Watch me, then.”

You aren’t able to react any further. With breathtaking speed, Satoru lunges from curse to curse, ripping their heads off in the most violent way you have ever seen while all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. Of course you always knew that your husband is not to be trifled with when it comes to his precious wife, but you’ve never thought that his concern would reach as far as him going berserk because of you.

Because of a minor laceration on your forehead.

It doesn’t even take him 30 seconds to kill all the curses entirely, leaving you completely speechless and a little dizzy. When he walks towards you, a maniac smile is plastered on his blood-covered face.

“No one is hurting my wife and gets away with it. Especially not some random curse”, he announces under his breath, gaze still stone cold.

“How are you feeling, love? Is your head doing okay? Did you get injured somewhere else?”

As soon as his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but concern and love, making your heart skip a beat.

“N-No…I’m fine…”, you stutter while getting lost in his bright blue orbs all over again.

His hands roam around your body gently, gaze scanning every inch of you with that worried expression plastered on his face. Moments like these show you with all urgency how much you really mean to your husband.

“I will kill every single curse walking on this earth to save you, (y/n)”, he speaks out with low voice, lips hungrily brushing over yours so strongly expressed that you feel like fainting.

“I’m sorry you were worried”, you mumble against his mouth.

“You’ll never get hurt by a curse again. I’ll make sure of that.”

[lilyarchived]

distanced [simon "ghost" riley]

a/n: can you tell i like writing angst?

warnings: swearing, hurt to comfort, fem outfit, a little ooc if you squint, 1.201 words oops

summary: after a fight with ghost, you don’t pay any attention to him for the whole day, deciding it’s what he wants anyway.

“forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” you sniffle, turning your back and grabbing your keys, storming out of the little apartment complex you two had been sharing for 6 months. his breathing was heavy, his huge form heaving up and down as he just watched you leave. ‘that’s it, then?’ you think to yourself, hesitant to keep walking to your car. god it was freezing. you go to fix your coat but you haven’t brought one. sighing, you quicken your pace to the car. it was dark out. 

your drive to your old apartment was quick, it was 2 am and the only cars out were people who had night shifts. you just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend, that’s all; yet that seemed to set him off. screaming and tears were all that you remembered. you remembered how you flinched when he raised his hand to fix his hair. you remember his horrified look. you remember getting in your car and, oh. that’s now.

you reach your apartment and the first thing you do is lay down for 10 minutes to cool down. after deciding that’s enough moping around, you take a good look at your surroundings and decide it’s time for redecorating. you spent the whole early morning moving furniture around and hanging up new posters and renewing bedsheets, and adding new scents to your humidifier, and blasting feel good songs, and.. and.. you miss him.

never mind that, you finish up and decide to take time for yourself to unwind, showering, skincare, reading, and doing all sorts of your hobbies you haven’t gotten the chance to do. sitting comfortably on your polished couch as you flip through the pages of your book and take a long sip of your warm coffee, you start to appreciate life and yourself just a little bit more. that doesn’t help the fact that there is a part of you longing for him, missing how he’d usually be behind you cuddling, some documentary playing in the background as his soft snores fill the silence.

stop it! god! get a grip, [Y/N]! stop thinking about him! what’s so good about Lieutenant Simon “ Ghost “ Riley anyway!? it’s not like he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, not like he has that one soft look whenever it comes to you, it’s not like,, you love him. a long and exaggerated sigh came out of you as the realisation hits. you do love him. but what does it matter now? it’s been 4 long hours since you’ve seen him, he hasn’t even called! you check your phone again to look for any missed calls but all you get is a message from soap saying “yer late 2day?” ‘ohhh no.’ “shit.” you mumble as you search for your keys as you race to your car and get to the base as fast as you can. 

you blast through the debriefing room wearing a brown tank top with a brown cardigan hanging loosely, your moss green long skirt ruffled as you plop your messenger bag on the table, hair claw barely keeping your wild hair up. headphones still hanging on your neck as you apologise for being late. “glad to see you’ve dressed up first, eh?” price remarks with a small smile as he continues talking, your cheeks blushing from embarrassment, forgetting to get into uniform since you had left in such a rush. you straighten your hair as you take notes during the whole meeting, all while feeling a familiar pair of eyes scan your body.

you’re purposefully ignoring him, going straight to your office once the debriefing was over, despite his calls for your name. he didn’t wanna spend time with you? that’s fine, you’ll give him what he so desperately wants. you lock yourself in the room to take at least 3 minutes to just get a hold of yourself and breathe. you finally get up to do some of the paperwork you’ve been putting off, and get to price’s office to be assigned more.

“this is unusual, you want more work?” he raises an eyebrow at you before filing some more paper. “yes sir.” a hum is all you get out of him. you stand there for at least another minute waiting for more orders, that is until he calls in the man you’ve been dreading to see. “WHAT? NO. WHY WOULD YOU-” you shut up instantly as you hold your breath when his big frame comes in. “go help him out with drills, since you so badly want to work.” your captain’s sassy ass voice is making your eye twitch, but you nonetheless comply. you were the first to step out of the room infuriated and hot-headed, awaiting more orders from your lieutenant.  

as soon as you finish up helping the new recruits as ordered, you ignored your boyfriend's orders of wanting to talk after the drills. you speed walk to your room to lay down, bruised feet and sore back, whining and groaning at the pain. you immediately sit up as you hear your bedroom door creak open, wondering who it is since you had it locked. you go through the list of who could have your key and the only one to cross your mind is your boyfriend you’ve been ignoring for the whole day. and to no surprise it’s him, simon riley, who walks into your door and kneels beside your legs.

“what’re you doing?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and groggily shuffling your hair. he just sighs and starts massaging your legs, hoping you would take this as a silent apology. “god stop it, simon.”

he doesn’t listen to your complaints as he pushes your small frame (compared to his, i mean c'mon this man is a giant) on the bed, laying you down as he cuddles on top of you. “si- i can’t breathe.” he only shifts a little to the side so that he wouldn’t accidentally crush you with his sheer strength. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean to make you cry like that.” your eyes flutter shut as you calm your breathing, still being bear hugged by your lieutenant beside you. “was so worried, thought i’d never see you again.” his deep vibrating voice tickles your ears, making you slightly happy. the warmth you’ve been longing for was back.

“don’t you ever do that to me again.” you whisper, finally hugging him back and facing him for the first time in a while. “yes ma’am.” he replies, moving your stray hair strands back to see your face better. “won’t ever let you go again.”

a/n: outfit i was thinking of ,, anyway this was kinda like forced, i’ve been wanting to write this for so long and only got the time to do so now sooooooooooooo hope u like it mwua mwua stay hydrated

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[leah-lover]

Closed for maintenance. Leah williamson × reader.

This is part 2. I took a gamble on the ending. If you don't like it tell me so that I can change it.

PS: thank you for all the support ❤️❤️.

I woke up the next day with a painful headache. The light painfully affected my eyes as soon as I opened them. At first I didn't take in my surroundings, all I thought about was the pain. Then suddenly it all came back, the party, the drinks, Leah, the kiss. Holy shit Leah I kissed Leah. “Oh no why do I do this why the hell do I always do this. Fuck.” I cursed at myself. Then I jolted up. This is not my room, it's probably Leah's. I quickly inspected the room, no longer feeling the pain in my head as I was preoccupied with the trouble I got into. I then noticed a note that said “ good morning beautiful, come join me in the kitchen.” 

I got up to refresh my hair. I was still in yesterday's clothes, so I just tidied myself and went out to join her.

I was met with the cutest sight in the world. Leah blasting ABBA, dancing and cooking what looks like eggs. With the biggest smile on my face I said “ good morning cap.”. She embarrassed turned down the music and replied “ good morning to you sleepy head, you were drunk last night so I brought you home I am not sure if you remember “

“ I do remember everything despite the earth shaking headache I am experiencing right now.” I added, which made her nervous. 

“ Leah the pan it's burning.” I pointed out. “Shit. Oh god. What are we gonna do?” she said while putting the pan in the sink.

“ Well I guess the girls are having brunch, maybe we should join them.” I suggested, afraid of the outcome of us being alone.

“ Good Idea I am gonna go get ready you tell the girls we are coming together, I mean yeah…., not together like in the same car I guess.” She blurred out while going up the stairs.

On our way to the restaurant Leah seemed nervous, she kept fidgeting with the console not knowing what to do. I just ignored the tension and stared at the window.

Once we arrived we were greeted by Katie. “ Look who just showed up in yesterday's clothes late.” She said,

“ Katie fuck off please and thank you.”She replied, ushering me to an empty seat and pushing the chair out for me. “Such a gentleman “ said Katie, which earned her a stern look from Leah.

The conversation flew rather quickly, and the girls grew tired and started to leave one by one. After a while I was left with Leah alone.

“ We need to talk about what happened yesterday, it is eating at me.” She started, “ it , you, have been eating at me since you joined. You are one of if not the most beautiful human beings I know. You are kind, sweet, and confident. You are a leader and a good friend. I ….” She added before I stopped her when I put a finger on her mouth. 

“ I need you to listen to me Leah. I can't let this go far. I have been in a relationship with my teammate. It has ruined my career. I left Chelsea because of my relationship with Niamh. I lost friends because they were hers first. I was left alone. I like the family here at arsenal. I don't want to lose that. Plus my heart is closed. I don't want a relationship. I can't handle a relationship right now.” I said with tears falling down my cheek.

“hey it's okay. It's not gonna be like that. Here at Arsenal what is mine is theirs. We have formed a group with Katie, Caitlain, Lia, Alessia,and Steph. What is mine is theirs and vice versa. That fact is known within the team. They won't only be my friends they will be your family. You won't be isolated. If god forbid something happened. Do you understand me?” She said, nervousness was apparent  on her face.

I stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do. “ If you are not up to it that's okay.” She said, worry in her face. “ I don't know what to think. Maybe I just need to understand more.” I replied.

“ Let's go to  Katie's house, there you will understand.” She added, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the restaurant.

And right then and there a new chapter in my life began.

[pitchsidestories]

10 Things I Hate About You (2) II Alexia Putellas x Reader

Can be read before part 1

part 1 I part 3 I masterlist I word count: 2255

2017

Your first day as a player for FC Barcelona was about to start. With a deep sigh you entered the facilities. Overwhelmed by the amount of new impressions, you didn’t realize that another person stepped to you. You flinched in surprise when you heard a female voice say; “Hola! Are you new here too?“

“Actually, I am.“, you answered, turning around to the other young woman. She was blonde and wore a big smile on her face. She held out her hand for you to shake it; “Oh good. Hi, I’m Mapi.“ “Nice to meet you, Mapi.“, you smiled, taking her hand and introduced yourself. “Pleasure.“, she grinned. For some reason, her presence calmed you a bit. “Ready to meet the rest? They do have quite the talented squad.“, you asked. Mapi just shrugged; “That’s what I heard. But we wouldn’t be here if the coaches didn’t think we could keep up with them.“ “True.“, you had to admit, your nervousness almost gone.

“Hi, guys. You must be new here.“, another player chimed in who introduced herself as Aitana. The team mate next to her, named Alexia just rolled her eyes; “And already late.“ You gave her an apologetic smile; “Yeah, we got a bit lost at first.“ “But we’re here now.“, Mapi added, gesturing towards the both of you. You nodded; “And ready to play.“ But your enthusiasm was not well received. You could feel Alexias scrutinizing glance on you; “We’ll see about that.“

Another player, Leila, gave you an encouraging wink; “Ale is just worried one of you will steal her place.“ “That’s not going to happen.“, Alexia shook her head with determination. Mapi casually ignored her new team mates bad mood; “Yeah, I’m a defender so no worries, Ale.“ “I wasn’t worried to begin with.“, she snapped and turned around to make her way towards the pitch. You watched her with raised eyebrows, leaning over to Leila; “Is she always like that?“ “She’s different when you get to know her. Trust me.“, she assured you, laughing. Together, you followed her for your first training session with Barcelona. “I hope you’re right.“ Leila smiled confidently; “Trust me, I am.“

During the training session you could feel Alexias eyes staring intensely at you and you asked yourself why she did that. Was it true what Leila said earlier? That she was worried you could take away her position she already built for herself at this club. Anyway, you could not think about this observation for too long as you needed to concentrate on what the coach wanted to see from you and your teammates. Becoming a part of this special team was a childhood dream come true for you and you wanted to show him that he should consider you as part of the starting line. No matter what a certain number 11 thought of that.

After the training the coach wanted to speak to you and Alexia.” You too..”, he started. Alert to the tone in his voice you interrupted him:” Yes?” “What is it?”, the brunette woman added impatient. The older man cleared his throat: “I want you two to play together.” “Uhm you do.”, unsure you looked to the other midfielder. This was too much for Alexia, she didn’t like his idea at all: ”What?” “Yes but.”, the coach tried to intervene. Expectantly you waited for him to continue: “But?” “No, whatever it’s, it’s a no from me.”, the brunette shook her head. You clicked your tongue at her: “Wait, let him explain his idea first.” “Shut up. You just want playtime on my position.”, she hissed. Calmly you admitted :”Of course I want to play too.” “Then get in line.”, Alexia grumpily demanded. Determined you answered: “No.” “No?!”, the midfielder repeated in disbelief.

“Oh please, you’re not the only one with ambition and to whom this club means a lot. Besides you’re only a year older than me so stop being so full of yourself.”, you scolded her. Everyone knew her history by now, she was the young shining star of this team, and you tried not to be blinded by that fact, besides she only showed you her ugly side so far. Much later you’d realize how similar your two ways have been and what a wonder it was that your paths hadn’t crossed earlier. Suspiciously Alexia threw an eyebrow up: “If this club means so much to you then why did you join only now.” “I had some difficult injuries in the past but now I’m here.”, you swallowed hard. Drily the brunette commented without showing any empathy in her eyes:“I’ll feel bad for you later.”

You let out a huff and cocked your head; “Oh please, I don’t need your pity, princessa.“ “Call me princessa one more time.“, Alexia pressed through gritted teeth. But you didn’t let yourself be intimated by her. “Or what? Will your fake eyelashes fall off, princessa?“, you continued. Slowly, she nodded. Her smile was more a teeth-baring than an actual smile; “You think you can make fun of me? I’ll show you on the pitch, little one.“ “I’ll be ready.“, you answered and completely ignored your coach who looked at the two of you in exasperation; “You’re supposed to work together, not against each other!“ “Say goodbye to your career then.“, Alexia replied unimpressed. You crossed your arms in front of your chest; “Oh, I don’t give up that easily.“

“Girls!“, your coach finally called for attention. You looked at him surprised; “Yes?“ “You either play together or none of you plays!“, he threatened, his tone did not allow any discussion. Though, Alexia tried it anyway; “Wait. Are you serious? You can’t do that to me. I’ve been playing here for a long time already!“ “You heard me.“, he ended the conversation and left. Alexia barely looked at you as she followed him out of the room.

Sighing, you almost ran into Leila on your wait. “Do you want to get dinner with some of us tonight?“, she asked full of excitement. You needed a moment to understand the questions, your thoughts were still spinning around the conversation from a moment ago. “Oh. I’d love to but I can’t. My little sister arrived today.“, you shrugged apologetically, giving her a half-smile. Leilas face turned serious; “Oh. I understand if you want to show her around and stuff. But you can also bring her if you want.“ “Really? I’ll ask her.“ You pulled out your phone, texting your younger sister who replied within seconds with several Partying Face-Emojis. “We’re both coming.“, you told Leila with a smile. She clapped her hands happily; “Amazing. I’ll text you the address.“ “Great, I can’t wait.“

You and your sister were some of the first people at the restaurant. You were happy to see Mapi when she arrived only a few minutes after you. “Who’s that?“, she asked when she sat down. Her gaze fixed on your sister. “Oh, that’s my younger sister.“, you explained, gesturing towards her. She smiled at Mapi with big doe eyes “Hi, you must be Mapi.“ They shook hand across the table. “I am.“, Mapi confirmed, blood rushing into her cheeks. “Pleasure to meet you.“

“Marta, do you know if Ale is coming with Alba aswell?”, Leila asked her teammate casually. The older defender nodded smiling:“Yes, I think she said they wanted to come.” “Oh god, no.”, you muttered as you realized the notorious midfielder was coming too tonight. Confused Marta looked at you: ”What?” “Alexia hates me.”, you informed her. Amused Leila asked: “After one day here?” “Yes.” “That must be a new record.”, the defender laughed. From her you wanted to know: “Does she hate every midfielder who comes new to the team?” “No, she doesn’t.”, Leila answered seriously. Truthfully Marta added, not without a wink: “Alexia only hates the ones who she thinks will be her biggest competition.” “Oh really?”, you said not completely convinced by what they said. This could not be only the reason for Alexias’s hatred, right?

Playfully Aitana pouted: “I take that as offense.” “You’re still young Aitana your time to shine will come.”, Leila promised the young midfielder.  In a cheerful tone Marta told her:“ Don’t worry. They’re probably just too similar. That’s all.” “The similarities are creepy.”, Aitana admitted smirking. “I don’t see any similarity.”, you interjected. This did not stop the young midfielder from starting to count the things she thought you had in common with Alexia: ”The position, the younger sisters, the clear ambition to be the best, the early death of a parent.”  “Still that does not make us the same person.”, you remarked. A small grin was on Aitana’s lips as she concluded:  “Not the same but very similar.”

Suddenly the person they were talking about was standing at the end of the table and was throwing an apologetic smile at her teammates: „Sorry for being late but Albs could not decide what dress she wanted to wear.” Alba was poking the brunette with her elbow slightly into the side for her comment.  “As long as you’re here now.”, Mariona waved it off. “Exactly sit down, you’re lucky we started with drinks first.”, Patri told the arriving sisters. Alexia’s smile froze as she spotted you:”Drinks are the most important part of the evening anyway. Wait.. who invited her?” You could feel the temperature dropping around the table.

“Me.”, Leila answered who was in a good mood besides her teammates cool tone. She kept asking:“Why would you do that?” “Because she’s new and a restaurant visit is a great way to get to know the other teammates.”, the older woman replied nonchalantly.Alexia took a deep breath to collect herself and sighed; “Right. I’ll need more drinks than that if I have to spend the evening with her around.“ Her team mates didn’t disappoint. As the evening went on, they made sure Alexia always had a drink in hand. The later it got, the more relaxed she seemed to be. Mostly thanks to the alcohol.

Around midnight, Mapi leaned over to her, pointing a finger; “Oh, I know why you behave like that!“ “Like what?“, Alexia asked, scrunching her nose. “In front of her. You have a crush.“, Mapi explained, nodding into your direction. Alexia let out a high pitched laugh; “Don’t be ridiculous.“ “I’m not. You are!“, Mapi grinned back at her. With a smile, Alexia shook her head, eyes fixed on her team mate; “You know, Mapi, you’re pretty funny. I’d like you if you weren’t friends with her.“ The defender raised an eyebrow; “Excuse me? I’m very serious. And we’re both just new to the team.“ “But you already spend a lot of time with her, so… looks like we can never be friends.“, Alexia replied, taking a long sip of her red wine. Alba joined them, clinking her glass to Mapis; “Ale’s just joking. She already likes you, Mapi.“ “I think she does. I like her too.“, the defender answered, amused. “But you like her as well.“, Alexia complained, her gaze flicking to you for half a second. Her new teammate nodded slowly; “I do. She’s my friend too.“

There was silence for a while before a smirk appeared on Alexias lips again; “Speaking of crushes, you and her sister…“ Wide-eyed, Mapi cut her off immediately; “No. Absolutely not. Forget about it. You say you don’t have a crush, I say I don’t have a crush. We leave it at that.“ “But you’re clearly-“ “No.“,Mapi curtly but with certainty.“Okay, got it.“, the midfielder finally gave in. “Thank you.“ “You’re welcome.“, she laughed. “Do you want another drink?“, Mapi offered. “Yes.“ “Here you go.“ Alexia eyed the drink that Mapi had pushed in front of her with a sceptical expression; “Thanks.“

A few weeks after this first team event, things between you and Alexia hadn’t changed much. The loss in your first game of the season was not exactly helpful either.

Once again, the coach called you two back into his office. “What did you two think you were doing?“, he yelled. Taken aback by the sudden outburst, you plainly answered; “Playing?“ “That doesn’t work if you two keep ignoring each other!“ Alexia gestured towards you, clearly offended; “She’s just not fast enough.“ “I don’t want to hear anything! I never say this to any of my players but this time it is true. You two lost us this game!“ Intimidated you looked up; “We’ll win the next one. Promise.“ Decidedly, he shook his head; “No. I don’t want any empty promises. I want actions. You two will come early before training tomorrow and work on this!“

Startled Mapi looked at Alexia who stormed into the changing room:“Ale, what did the coach want from you two?” “He’s an idiot.”, the midfielder mumbled grumpily. The blonde tried to soothe the nerves of the brunette: “Ale.” “We have extra training together. Tomorrow.”, Alexia groaned exasperated.

Cautiously Mapi answered:” Actually, that sounds like a good idea.” “Oh, shut up, Mapi.”, the midfielder hissed. But this did not intimidate the defender at all:” You can pretend to hate her all you want but I saw how you look at her when she’s not watching.” “Have you ever considered getting yourself some glasses? Because you’re obviously not seeing right.”, the brunette sneered. Amused the blonde rolled her eyes:” Sure, Ale.” “Keep your mouth closed, Mapi. You might find it funny, but I can’t deal with her.”

“You’ll have to though she’s part of the team now.”, Mapi remarked with a knowing smile.

[writerslittlelibrary]

Ok so blackhill x daughter reader

So Natasha and Maria have been stressed lately and on a mission we keep calling them lil mama and mom (I don’t know which nicknames you want) and some agents (avengers don’t because they are used to) snicker about that. (Don’t get me wrong they love when we call them that no matter the situation and will beat up anybody who laughs at that but now due to the stress they can’t) so they kind of snap at us telling us that we have to adress them with respect.

Now the angst 😈 then some days after that mission we get kidnapped and HYDRA got a device that made us see that our mothers were torturing us. So we got tortured irl but saw that Natasha and Maria did it.

Then when they finally get to where we are (some time has to pass) we start to back up frightened and start saying things like “please miss romanoff please don’t hurt me more miss romanoff” (yk like begging but calling them that) and Natasha is startled and says “what did you call me?” So we get even more frightened and kind of scream “I’m sorry black widow I’m sorry please no more please” also when we are in the compound every time we see them we get duper frightened. And they have to make a lot of effort and rehabilitation to get us back to our past shelf.

I don’t know if this makes sense at all. I’m sorry if it doesn’t

-🦈

We are your mothers

masterlist requests masterlist

part 2

pairing: Blackhill x daughter reader

warnings: yelling, Natasha and Maria being stupid for a second, torture

genre: angst

words: 1370

a/n: I finally finished a fic, yay😎 hope you like it :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

-------------------------------------------------------------

Going on a mission with your moms seemed exciting at first. You and Natasha had spoken about it a lot, and while she was unsure of you joining them, she was proud of you.

Two days in and excitement had died down, now walking on eggshells every time you talked with your moms. They were stressed. Very stressed. The past couple of days hadn’t been easy on them and they carried a lot of responsibility and had a lot on their plate. You tried to help them, but Maria had just ended up telling you to go somewhere else.

You knew it had nothing to do with you, but it still hurt.

To make the whole situation worse, people had been laughing behind your back, and sometimes right in your face due to the fact you called your moms by their names, mom and mama. The other agents made fun of it and you found it annoying but mainly ignored it. You knew they were just some stupid agents, you just wished they’d shut up. 

Today wasn’t any different. All of you were working on finding information, hacking into computers and trying to find out where Hydra was going to hit next. 

“Hey mama, I think I found something,” you said, typing something in the laptop while you tried to secure a location. You heard an agent snicker, and you knew Natasha had heard it too, but she seemed to ignore it. She walked over to you, leaning down to look at the laptop. 

“This proves nothing, y/n. Please take this seriously,” she said, walking back to your mom. You sighed in annoyance, and leaned back into your chair. 

“I am taking this seriously mama. Why wouldn’t I? I know it’s serious, but I really thought I had something-” “Well you didn’t, and you need to start being more respectful. We are not at home. Address us properly,” Natasha interrupted, typing something into her own computer. 

You looked at your mom pleadingly, but Maria just shook her head and went on with her own work. “You could’ve just told me that. No need to yell!” you replied back to Natasha, who looked at you really pissed. “Go take yourself for a walk, and don’t even dare coming back until you’ve remembered your manners!” Natasha replied angrily, and you could hear some agents snickering. 

You stood up aggressively, pushing your chair back and storming out of the room, ignoring your moms scolding you heard. 

You walked outside for a while, the cool autumn air helping to calm your nerves. You felt odd, though, but you couldn’t really explain it. You kept looking behind you, feeling as though someone was following you. When the feeling got worse, you reached for your phone, dialing your mom who, stupidly, ignored your call. You cursed yourself quietly, calling your mama, who, surprisingly, picked up. 

“What?” you heard your mama say, hearing the annoyance in her voice. “I think I’m being followed…” you replied softly, checking behind you again. 

“Where are you?” you heard Natasha ask, her voice suddenly sounding concerned and panicked. “I’m at-” “Hello? y/n?! Answer me!” Natasha yelled through the phone, but you were knocked out cold. 

Natasha immediately grabbed Maria’s attention, explaining what happened. The entire mission was thrown around, now solely focussed on finding you.

Meanwhile, you were being dragged into a van, which drove you to a Hydra base. You were still knocked out when they placed you into a dark room, strapping you down to a chair and quickly injecting you with a serum.

Once you woke up, the room was dark, and your mind felt foggy. You couldn’t remember what happened, but when you went to reach for your head you found out your arms and legs were tied. You panicked, frantically trying to get yourself loose but to no avail. Once you stopped struggling, the door opened, and two figures walked in.

You blinked a few times, not trusting your mind, before you realized it was your moms standing in front of you. “Mama! Mom! Please help me!” you pleaded with them, tugging on the restraints.

They didn’t move from their spot, instead who you thought was Maria lifted her arm, a strike hitting you in the face. “Address us properly,” she demanded, waiting for your answer. Your head swept to the side and tears stung in your eyes. “What?...” you questioned quietly, barely above a whisper. Another strike hit your cheek, this time Maria grabbed your hair, yanking your head back.

“Address us properly,” she demanded again, Natasha now stepping closer too.

You shook your head to the best of your abilities, tears running down your cheeks. “Mom please, don’t get it…” you cried, another slap landing on your cheek. 

It had been days, and you were beaten and bruised and barely alive. Every few hours, a guy would come to inject you with a blue serum. It didn’t hurt, but it made your brain feel foggy and made you see things that weren’t really there. 

Your moms had been coming into the room constantly, torturing you and laughing at you, making fun of you. 

You were terrified, but completely obedient to whatever they told you. You had been moved into another room a few days ago, this one with a bed, or rather a mattress, a very thin mattress, on the floor. Your ankle was attached to a chain, which was attached to the wall.

You were shaking and starving, your wounds hurting more than anything you’d ever experienced. 

Little did you know your real moms had been doing anything in their power to try and find you. They had gone over every possible Hydra base, skipping sleep and going through every possible file and document to try and locate you, and tonight, they did.

It was late when your cell door opened, and your moms once again walked in. “y/n,” you heard a relieved sigh, but you didn’t dare look at them. 

You kept your eyes on the ground, sitting up straight and keeping quiet, just like you’d been taught. Natasha ran up to you, laying her hand on your shoulder to try and assess the damage, but you flinched away from her touch, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Please…” you cried out. “No more… please miss Romanoff no more…” 

Natasha hesitated in her movement, making eye contact with Maria, who was slowly approaching. “What did you just call me?” Natasha asked surprised, and she, nor Maria didn’t miss the way that sentence made you flinch and made yourself even smaller. 

“I’m sorry Black Widow. I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried out, tears violently streaming down your face. 

Maria tried to approach you as well, but you flinched away from her as well.

Natasha had tears running down her cheeks, seeing you so afraid of her, too terrified to even look at her. Meanwhile, Maria called for back-up. Soon after, Yelena entered the room, followed by Clint. Natasha was sitting against a wall, her head leaning on it as she cried soundlessly, Maria sitting next to her, tears in her eyes as well.

You were sitting across for them, still covering your face with your arms and you tried to shield yourself.

Yelena slowly approached you, her hands raised as she crouched down next to you. “Baby spider…?” she asked carefully, taking note of your form relaxing slightly as you heard her voice. “Baby spider it’s me. It’s auntie Yelena. Can I help you with your wounds please?”

Seeing as though you made no move to get away from her, she came closer, hugging you tight as she checked your wounds. You finally broke down, feeling safe in the familiar arms of the russian.

Clint helped Natasha and Maria, getting them up and then breaking the chain you were attached to. Yelena lifted you up, taking you to the Quinjet, while your moms were left in that room. They saw your terrible state as Yelena carried you away, and silently cried, knowing this happened only because they got mad over you calling them mom, knowing you’d probably ever call them that again. 

a/n: I might rewrite this ending or make a part two cause, yikes.

part 2

[munariplans]

is there someone else? | n. romanoff

synopsis: you and natasha have been going through a rough patch lately. wanda comes in and shows you everything natasha is unable to offer.

natasha romanoff x reader | slight wanda maximoff x reader

word count: 4.9k words

read part 2 here and part 3 here

warnings: angst, almost(?) cheating, discussions on pregnancy and treatments

masterlist

“nat, you have to be patient!”

“i am patient!” the woman before you screamed, red hair almost matching the redness on her features, as she gripped the edge of the table in your shared bedroom. “i have been patient; for days, weeks, months, i have been patient! but this is not working; whatever tony and bruce have been cooking in that lab, is not working!”

“these things take time; natasha, you cannot—”

“—no, not for me,” again, your wife cut you off; hot tears brimming in her eyes now, “not for me. It’s not a timing issue, it’s my body’s issue. the reverse hysterectomy doesn’t work, and the IVF won’t work either.”

this time, you knew better. reaching out towards her, you ignored her flailing arms half in protest, half in desperation, to push you away. you embraced natasha with all that you had; holding on to her as if it would piece her broken pieces back together. and it was precisely then that she broke down; her body physically melting against your own and her sobs filling the atmosphere of the quiet, bleak room. the room that had once been the sanctuary for the both of you; late night rendezvouses against the knowledge of the other avengers, patch-up sessions where natasha would trust you over any medic to see her scars and wounds and not judge, it was even the safest place for natasha to run into after particularly hard missions. 

The place still looked all the same, with the addition of Natasha’s belongings now taking up eighty-percent of your space (in what was essentially a room for one, but the both of you had been reluctant on upgrading to a bigger room in the compound with the memories made in your room). But the feeling was not the same. 

You held her tighter. “It’s only our fourth round, so what if it doesn’t work? We can always try again.”

“What if I’m tired?” She asked, voice too small, too fragile. “What if it doesn’t work again? What if it’s just a me problem? I can’t have children, I can’t give you a baby, and I never will.”

“Don’t say that, don’t say things like that.” Were the only comforting words you could offer, a little tired, a little irritated, at her repetition of insecurities being voiced after each IVF round the both of you went through. 

You led her to your shared bed, and when Natasha tried to reach out for you in the night, she felt you shift closer to the edge of the bed, and away from her. 

–

Common side effects of Natasha’s fertility treatments included frequent mood swings, this you knew from Bruce’s multiple warnings before. He had taken special care to explain it to you, and had even advised you to seek help from Clint if necessary. You remembered brushing him off with, “I think I can handle my wife’s emotions just fine.”

If only you knew what you were getting yourself into, you chided yourself now, staring at the back of Natasha’s head, sighing. A little pissy and agitated would be a fine understatement. 

You were the assigned leader for the mission; you had thought it was natural that everyone followed your instructions and heed your warnings. Not for Natasha. 

She had taken a path that was more direct to the enemy’s line of fire, and considering her complete disregard for her own safety, and the fact that it was right around the time that she could be pregnant from a previous round of treatments, it was very clear from your point of view that she was putting herself in imminent danger, and that you had to step in. 

You remembered Steve asking why Natasha was so far off from her tracker, and it was the moment everything clicked. You knew your wife. You knew precisely why she had taken off her tracker. 

“Nat, fall back.” You spoke into your comms, knowing full well she had heard you. There was no response. 

“Natasha. ”

Two enemies had thrown themselves at you, and in the time taken to take them down, Natasha still had not responded. 

You were about to call her for the third time when her comms crackled to you. “Kinda—busy—here.”

Behind her was the sound of gunfire. Screams, cries, the occasional thunk of metal hitting against bones. You thought it was natural that you freaked. 

“Natasha, I am this mission’s leader. I am ordering you to fall back, I repeat, fall back!”

“No! I can get the chip faster this way, I’m right in their comms room!”

“Agent Romanoff, this is not a request. If you don’t fall back now, I am reporting you to Fury for insubordination of a direct order.”

She had turned her comms off. The whole team practically heard you scream through their comms, “Fuck!”

Steve was kind enough to cover for your spot, while you ran headfirst into the comms room to extract Natasha. And although her being swarmed and outnumbered by a large margin of enemies was something you expected, it could not compare to the horror that spread through your system at the sight of her pinned down, gasping for air as an enemy tried to wrestle her for the gun she was holding.

He was gone in the next second, as Natasha rolled over to catch her breath. She cursed under her breath, preparing for the onslaught of another one tumbling towards her, but when it was you that filled her vision, helping her stand and leaning her onto your body, she wasn’t so sure if it was any better.

“I—told you—” Natasha tried to say, but you cut her off. 

“—You disobeyed a direct order, Nat. You could’ve gotten killed.”

–

Though, back in the quinjet, it felt as if the roles were completely reversed. Natasha was berating you in plain view of everyone else, while you could only sit back, and accept the harshest words that were coming out of your wife’s mouth. 

“Do you not trust me? How many missions have we been on together, and how many have I parted to take care of things on my own? How many missions have I gotten injured, or killed? I am not some fragile, brittle object, you know! I am—”

“—Romanoff, I think she gets your point,” Tony tried to cut in, but the glare shot his way was enough to make him shut his mouth faster than he had opened it. 

“—I am capable, and you know I was, of extracting the chip myself! We could’ve avoided so many casualties! And now, look where we are, no chip, building destroyed, and civilians dead. All because you wouldn’t trust me to be able to take care of myself.” Natasha jabbed her finger to your shoulder roughly, as if to only rub in your humiliation deeper.

But you only sighed, and stood up. A resigned look on your face, you called Peter forward, and as he approached the table nervously, eyes darting between you and Natasha, she spotted it. Spider-Man pulled the chip out of his suit, and handed it to you. 

You showed it off to her, and the rest of the team, and shook your head. “We would’ve gotten the chip regardless. You didn’t have to put yourself in unnecessary danger, and you didn’t have to undermine my leadership.”

You retreated back to the darkness of the quinjet, hearing Natasha sigh irritatedly and march right up to the front again. 

–

Halfway on the trip back home, Natasha finally made the decision of risking seeing you to get herself some water, seeing as the supply was all the way at the back of the jet. She had unbuckled her seatbelt, ordered Peter to step in for her, and made the short, but agitating journey to where you were. 

But you were not near your designated seat near the supplies, or anywhere where she thought you would be, as she unscrewed the water bottle and discretely scanned the jet for you. I’m not worried for her, I’m glad she’s not in my line of sight, is all. 

But what she saw next, as she was walking past another part of the jet, made her stop in her tracks. You were next to Wanda in the makeshift medical bay, your suit unzipped and tied around your waist, fireproofs lifted up to reveal a huge wound that Wanda was tending to. 

You seethed as the Scarlet Witch tried to draw back the bleeding with her magic, grabbing her hand and chanting, “Gentle, gentle, please.”

Fuck. Natasha couldn’t believe she missed out on the fact that you were injured. She had thought your gait looked a little strange when you were escorting her to safety earlier; and there was blood in her hands as she let go of you, but she had chalked it up to being an enemy’s. You had sat through her beration, her humiliation, and had said nothing to her of your injury.

Your eyes were shut, as Wanda navigated the stab wound, but her own eyes then drifted up, catching Natasha’s. The Scarlet Witch didn’t budge, looking up at Natasha almost in defiance, mostly in resentment. 

A weird feeling settled within the woman, but she shut the curtain to the medical bay, and returned to her seat. 

–

Natasha watched yours and Wanda’s friendship begin to bloom. It seemed as if the Avenger had found a solace within your company, as she naturally gravitated towards you in most social settings; team dinners, Tony’s outlandish parties, even during team meetings and discussions. In those moments, Natasha held your arm against hers closer, putting extra effort to drape her body as close to yours as possible as a warning. If you noticed (you did), you didn’t say anything to her, merely welcoming her into your open arms and letting her find comfort at the same time. 

However, no matter how much Natasha wanted to keep you close and all to herself, her own hormones got the best of her on her worst days. More IVF sessions had passed with little to no success, brimming and breaking hope simultaneously, and Natasha was finding it harder and harder to sit through you merely reassuring her that it takes time. On her worst nights, she would find even your mere presence in the room an abhorrent sight, instead shunning you out into the common areas or mentioning that she wanted to sleep alone tonight. 

Natasha never missed the heartbreak, or desperation, in your face. Perhaps you had been too nonchalant towards her mood swings, perhaps you had paid too little attention to her needs, or perhaps, and you hated yourself for thinking about it, Natasha was slowly growing out of love for you. You never missed the mixed emotions on hers, as you so often grabbed your pillows and headed out to sleep on the couch. 

–

One particular night, where a stupid argument about paperwork that you had syphoned off to Natasha, preventing her from going out into the field had ensued, and finished, it ended once again with her yelling at you to get out of the room and sleep somewhere else for the night. The both of you were certain, by that point, that the whole compound could hear all of the words exchanged and screams torn. But Natasha was headstrong, you never were, and you gave in, as always. 

Left with nothing but the bitter taste of Natasha accusing you of underestimating her, and the fact that your relationship was on such a thin thread that was affecting the morale of the whole team as well, you exited the room. 

But when Natasha tossed, and turned, and tossed again that night, the absence of your body beside hers and only the coolness of the sheets on her skin, the guilt began to settle in. As it always did. She could have been more thoughtful, should have considered your own workload, should have cared more about your feelings too. 

With tears hot in her eyes and a resolution to apologise, she left the room, still in her nightgown, to search for you in the common area. When she did find you, however, you were hunched over said paperwork that you had thought to pass off to her, the stack that she screamed would prevent her from going on her mission the next day. You had wanted to ensure that she could still go, eventually. 

She called out your name, but when you turned, all the apologies that she had wanted to spill, the invite to return back to your room, were silenced; for Wanda’s own head had popped up beside yours, evident that she had been laying on your lap and accompanying you at work. 

She realises that Wanda is there for you in all the ways she never was these days. She realises the outlet for you to share about your day, your frustrations and worries, was not her now. No, of course it wasn’t her, why would it be her? Not when she picks a fight for every little concern you voice out, not when she dismisses your every attempt to talk to her now. A scarier feeling began to form; Natasha realises that Wanda may be your home now, not her. 

“Yes, Nat?” You said, your face devoid of any emotion. 

She could have screamed, could have cried, could have threatened Wanda with death and tore her away from you right away. She could even have accused you of doing something you promised you would never do to her when you got together; but she didn’t. Natasha wanted to trust you, and she didn’t want her own insecurities to get the best of her, and the worst of you, again. 

Instead, all she did was nod towards Wanda, swallowing a huge lump in her throat. “N-Nothing. Come back to our room when you’re done with that. The bed’s too cold.”

–

It was in the way Wanda voluntarily paired herself up with you for missions. The way you could conveniently shove her out of the way of raining bullets, putting yourself in the line of fire for her without a second thought. 

The way you were the first person Wanda looks for at the end of said missions. The way you allow Wanda to ease her worries by laying her head against your shoulder afterwards. 

The way Wanda hugs you just a little too tight, too long, right after the team worries of your cut-off comms from a particularly hard mission. 

Natasha hates herself for noticing all of it. 

–

Tony called out your name to the common area one night, despite you and Natasha agreeing to have an early night-in for a round of doctor’s visits the next day. She was a little annoyed at you for being so ready to heed his request, but followed you anyway, hoping it would be quick. 

“As you can see,” Tony spread his arms, gesturing around the room to the other Avengers, “Your best friend isn’t around. She’s been gone from us for exactly two nights in a row now, and we want to know why.”

His game show host-style of speaking ticked you off, but you swallowed it down in favour of everyone else around, and smiled politely at him. He continued, “Rogers says it’s her time of the month, which, might be true, is totally boring and not helpful to this discussion at all. Danvers says she’s probably just sick of our shit, which, might also be true, but is being a Debby Downer and I do not stand for it. With the amount of vomiting Vision hears from his room, he says it’s because I gave her food poisoning when I tried to cook dinner on Monday, which is the least likely option there is, so I’m disregarding it. What do you say, huh?”

“She told me she has a stomach flu.”

This time, Thor chuckled from the corner of the room. Grinning, he sneaked in with, “Classic pregnancy symptoms, I say. Natasha’s been the one trying for a child, but have you accidentally knocked the wrong woman up, kid?”

He didn’t need your furious glare and Natasha’s choked sob behind you to know he had voiced out every insecurity of hers so perfectly, as the Black Widow practically stormed straight back to your room, with you hot on her heels, trying desperately to call out her name. 

–

“It was just a joke, Nat, and he knew it! You and I know it!”

“Was it really?” Natasha’s eyes were red and raw, throat hoarse from screaming, “Was it really a joke to you? Or have you really gone and fucked her and gotten her pregnant?!”

“That’s impossible and you know it!” You retorted, taking one step closer. Natasha took one step back. Your hands had raised, trying to reach out for her to see reason, but seeing her retreat only sent a knife straight to your heart, and you threw them up in the air, giving up. “Nat, I—I—Wanda’s a friend. That is all she is, all she will ever be. I don’t understand why—”

“—Do your friends touch you like I do? Do your friends get to lie their head on your shoulder, hug you goodbye and welcome home after every mission, be the outlet for your frustrations and worries, your celebrations and joy? Do your friends matter more than I do?” She cut you off, shoving you against the wall this time. 

You took the opportunity to grab her wrists, tilting your head so you were directly at her eye level. “Natasha.”

She refused to meet your eyes. “Natasha. Look at me.”

She shook her head, refusing to give in, refusing to let you see the insecurity, heartbreak, and jealousy in her green eyes, now dull and wearier than the emerald they once were. “Fuck you.”

“Natasha, what is going on with us?” You asked sincerely then, begging her to see reason, to see you. “We fight everyday, we barely spend any time together, and you don’t even bother trying to listen to me. To help me help you see reason. You hate me on most days, you despise what I am, what I do, and I don’t know how to fix this. Have I become so broken, so unlovable, that you cannot even stand to be in the same room as me anymore?”

Natasha slowly lifted her gaze, blinking away the tears. “You don’t seem to mind.”

“Because I don’t want to ruin whatever we have left!” You shouted, exasperated. “I don’t want to lose whatever shred of love my wife has left for me, I don’t want to make things worse, and I don’t want to make you feel worse. Tell me, is it the baby? Is us trying for a baby too much for you, Nat? Is this not something you want anymore? Because ever since we’ve started trying—”

“—It’s not the baby, it’s me,” Natasha freed her wrists from you, turning away. “It’s me, and my inability to be a wife, a proper wife, to you. Fuck, I can’t even give you one thing every married couple wishes for, a fucking child, and now you have to run off to an actual woman who can. I’m a fucking failure, that’s what I am.”

“Nat, not every couple wants—not every couple needs—a child. I’m perfectly happy with—”

“—Are you really? Are you really perfectly happy with the way things are? Do you not wish for more, something I can’t give? Someone who can understand you, love you, better than I can?”

You knew where this was going, and you rubbed your forehead in frustration. “What are you getting at, Natasha?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t see the way she looks at you.” 

You sighed. “I honestly don’t.”

“Of course you don’t!” Natasha’s voice broke, uttering the next words, “But I do. Because she looks at you the way I look at you. The way I wished you looked at me.” 

“Nat, don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself, and don’t do this to us. I can assure you Wanda is…is…” You trailed off, not believing the incredulity of it all. 

“Is what?” Natasha hoped with all of her heart you could finish the sentence. “Is what…? Tell me. Younger? Better? Easier to love, than I am?” 

But you could only shake your head once more, furrowing your eyebrows. “You know what, Nat? I give up. I truly give up. If you can’t get over yourself and your own insecurities, even though we are married, even if you knew I only love you, I cannot help you. I need a break…we need a break.” 

You didn’t tell her for how long, you didn’t tell her what you were going to do, or what she could do to fix things. You merely brushed past her body folding in on itself in anguish and absolute heartbreak, and packed your things. That night, you had left her all to herself, and she had only felt loneliness like this once. 

Suddenly, Natasha was twelve again, all alone in the Red Room to fend for herself. She had lost her parents, she had lost Yelena, and now, she had lost you too.

–

wanda was browsing through the menu, seated in front of you at the hotel balcony, celebrating the end of another successful mission together. it was a few weeks after the incident with natasha, and with no end goal or date in sight of when you were returning to her arms, you had resigned yourself to stick to wanda, much to the scarlet witch’s pleasure, too. 

“an aperol spritz or a negroni?” she had asked, but you were busy staring right at her. 

wanda’s eyes were blue, wide and ethereal. Her hair was a lighter colour than natasha’s, hands softer as they wrapped around yours, hugs tighter. 

natasha was all that you had ever known, and loved. you have been together for so long, you find it hard to believe that what you feel for wanda could ever be real. 

she was kind, patient and understanding; wanda never complained, never screamed or raised her voice at you. you remembered when the feeling began; the very night where natasha had practically banished you from your room, and her footsteps came pattering down to the common area where you were. wanda had just returned from a mission with thor and sam, but still insisted on staying up with you. as her head laid on your lap that night, her big, blue eyes staring up at yours, you felt something stir in your stomach; a feeling that you hadn’t felt in a long while with natasha. butterflies anew. 

you became concerned, protective, of wanda during missions. always worrying if she had eaten before a gruelling day, taking extra patience in training her for combat practice, you began wondering if you had really looked at her as just a friend all this while. when wanda and natasha both came home with a bullet graze on their arms on one mission, you found yourself worrying for wanda almost as much as you did for your wife. 

perhaps that was the moment you knew, and so did natasha. 

–

wanda called out your name lovingly, half-laughing as you stared into blank space yet again, dissociating as she stepped out of the shower. 

“you still upset that I chose the negroni?” she teased, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

getting up to change, you tried hard not to hyper-focus on the beads of water dripping down wanda’s body, as she bent down to find a spare change of fresh clothing. “of course. criminal, that you order everything but an aperol spritz in Italy, of all places.”

you found the t-shirt that she had been looking for, and whistled for her attention. but right as the woman stepped forward to take it off of you, you tugged it under her grip, side-stepping further into the room.

“apologise, for the spritz, for me, and everyone else in italy.”

wanda shot you an incredulous look, before your own serious resolve broke too, and the both of you ended up laughing, nearly tumbling forwards towards each other.  somewhere along the line, Wanda decided to take the opportunity to try to take the shirt, but your reflexes kicked in, and right as she reached forwards, you went for her legs; throwing her onto the bed to dodge her attack. 

giggling, still, Wanda tried to sit up as you pinned her down. but the woman managed to take one of your own, as she grabbed your hand, and with one swipe, had your wedding band in her left hand, taunting it over you. 

“got something of yours, too,” she grinned, handing out her other hand for an exchange, “Now give me my shirt.”

your eyes widened at the sight before you then. wanda, dressed only in a towel that was barely hiding anything from view, the compromising position you were in, the wedding band she had taken off of you at that moment. 

heart to heart, yours beating as fast as hers, wanda finally noticed too. slowly, but surely, her red magic came up to envelop the both of you, the warmth in them flowing through your senses, making your head fuzzy and lightheaded. 

she leaned up, mouth just inches from yours, hoping, begging, for you to close the distance. her towel had almost fallen off her body then, arms around your neck. if you dared look down, nothing would be hidden from view. 

“come on,” she murmured against your lips. 

you hesitated, the grip on her waist suddenly disappearing. “i…no.”

wanda pouted, you remembered shaking your head. “i’m married, wanda.”

“please.”

you snatched back your ring this time, throwing the t-shirt onto her body and looking away just as quickly. opening the door to the balcony, you found it hard to catch your breath. “i can’t. i’m sorry.”

–

though, that night, watching her sleeping figure sprawled out on the shared king bed, you took another swig of the gin leftover from the bar, wondering if you had made the right choice. 

the opportunity had presented itself, and yet you didn’t take it. 

natasha had left a text earlier on your phone, and you cursed when you remembered what date it was. it was almost an asshole move to simply text her back ‘happy anniversary to us’ too, when she had sent a long paragraph apologising for what she had done, and begged you to come back to celebrate your five-year wedding anniversary together. 

–

sleeping on the couch, and as far away from wanda as possible, you felt your phone vibrate in the middle of the night. 

getting up groggily, you had almost thrown it back to where it was, until another text came in, and another. they were from Natasha. 

i have to tell you something. you had texted her back with a question mark, but her only reply had been that she refused to tell you over text, and that you would only know when you got back. 

considering the state of your relationship with her, and the way you had practically ruined whatever hope of rekindling her affection for you with the anniversary text, you almost knew what it would be already. she would be taking the first step in ending your relationship, and marriage. 

looking back at wanda’s sleeping form then, you selfishly thought again if you should have proceeded with the kiss.

–

natasha was already waiting with the other avengers when your quinjet landed. wanda had gotten off first, looking back at you awkwardly, reaching her hand out to help you disembark, after an injury to your right rib. you smiled at her, but rejected her help. 

natasha strode towards you in two cool, calculated steps. you offered her a half-smile, but her face was determined, and hopeful. her arms were around your waist in the next second, and for the first time in the last year or so, the black widow tipped you over, pressing her lips against yours in the most passionate, loving kiss. In front of everyone, in front of fury, in front of wanda, natasha claimed you as hers. 

“what—” before you could finish your question, she was already dragging you to your shared room, leaving you even more confused than before. perhaps it was a goodbye kiss, perhaps natasha had felt the need to claim you one last time before parting ways, perhaps she had simply missed you over the time you were gone. the last one seemed most impossible. 

“sit.” she had gestured, forcing you on the bed. “close your eyes.”

you groaned, the injury on your ribs resurfacing. “nat, i’m really tired, the mission was a success but my side is—”

“please,” natasha begged this time, “please.”

you relented, and closed your eyes anyway, hoping whatever this was, would be over soon and that you could have a full night of uninterrupted sleep for once.

natasha rummaged for something in her bag, and opened your palm up. three small, plastic sticks were placed in them, leaving you more confused than ever. 

“open your eyes.” 

your heart sunk into the depths of your stomach when you saw what they were. time came to a standstill, the glaringly obvious image before you the prophecy for your past, present and future. three pregnancy tests, all positive. 

you finally looked back up at natasha, her eyes brimming with tears of joy and hope. her arms encircled your neck again then, tears fresh on your shoulder. 

“i’m pregnant,” she murmured into your skin, as if it would solve everything. as if it was the answer to all of your problems together. 

a/n: who's side are you on?

[enhafilthandfiction]

Enhypen Hyungline when you cockblock them :(

Jake panicking in photo (>_<) ------⤴

A/N : Hellooo I am writing this after most of you picked it from the poll :) Hope you enjoy! I'm accepting emoji Anons! (I'm making a list!)

Pairing : Bf!Hyungline X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Suggestive, boners, just hyungline tryna get their dick wet.

Word Count : 1,026 Words (about 250 words each)

Masterlist

» Lee Heeseung «

His eyes shot open, his breathing ragged as sweat beaded his forehead. Fuck. He just had a wet dream. A dream a little to realistic. "Heeseung! Ahh" he could still hear your sweet moans ringing in his ears as you fucked yourself on his cock in his dream.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying too ignore the aching between his legs. He already knew it; He was hard. He tried to ignore his erection, but the more he tried the more painful it felt.

He couldn't get off without you, even if he tried. He rolled around, gratefully finding you next to him, rolled on your side. His hands found your waist almost out of instinct, pushing you closer to his crotch.

The second your ass made contact with his clothed cock, he shamelessly started rocking his hips against you desperately for relief. "Y-Y/n" he whimpered out, hesitant but also wishing you just woke up and took care of him. "Y/n" he called out again, a little guilty for waking you up this late.

"Hee?" you asked softly, trying to turn around and face him.

"Yeah, baby it's me" he replies, biting his lips at your innocence.

"Everything oka-" you felt it.

"Y-yeah, I just need you" he admits, voice raspy with sleep.

"At 2:46 Am in the morning?" you asked, rubbing your eyes "No" you firmly added, unwrapping his hands from your hips and shutting down your eyes again.

He physically whines out and pouts "P-please baby, it hurts" he begs, though keeping his hands to himself.

"Nope, I don't feel like it tonight" you explain "stop being a horn dog and control your erections" you said, smiling to yourself and going back to sleep.

"You're so mean" he sighs to himself, accepting the fact that he got blue balled. :(

» Park Jay «

Jay knew he had a busy schedule. Lately he's been coming home late and very horny. But, being the thoughtful person he was, even if he had a raging boner, he wouldn't want to wake you up very late at night just to relieve himself.

But today, he came home fairly early. Well, even if it was half past ten at night, he found you in the kitchen, still washing the plates from dinner. This was his chance.

He makes his way over to the counter, wrapping his hands around your waist - just to back-hug you.

"Hi baby~" he greets happy to be with you after a long day of work. You greet him back, turning your head around to give him a short kiss.

"How was work?" you ask him, your hands still busy with the dishes.

"It was okay" he starts off sighing "I was thinking about you most of the time" he admitted.

"Is that why you're trying to get your dick wet?" you ask bluntly, referring to the not-so-subtle movements of his hips against you.

"I- uhh, maybe?" he feels his cheeks heat up.

"Too bad, I'm on my period" and with that you dry up your hands, lay a kiss on his flushed cheeks and go get ready for bed, leaving him staring blankly in disbelief.

Sigh, guess he's gonna have to rub one out in the shower.

» Sim Jake «

It was a lazy Friday and you and your sweet boyfriend Jake were one the couch, binge watching a random Netflix show. He was on one end of the couch, you were on another.

As the show went on, he felt himself getting more and more bored when he could be fucking you right then and there. You however, were very invested in the show, laughing at every little joke that Jake missed or paying close attention when he was just yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"Y/n, don't you think this is a little boring?" he asks all of a sudden, making you pout.

"You could've told me you weren't enjoying the show" you pouted.

"Yeah, I'd enjoy you much more" he smirked, flicking his eyebrows up and down.

"Oh" you simply say, shrugging your shoulders and resuming your show.

He stares at you in shock, expecting you to at least do something, but when you don't he makes his way to your end of the couch, burying his face in your tummy and holding your waist.

"Y/nnnn pleaseee" he begged, squeezing you harder, making you giggle "Need you"

"Nah uh, I'm not in the mood Jakey, sorry" you confirm, nevertheless stroking his hair.

He puffed out, getting up "I have to go to the bathroom" He announced, kissing your forehead and making his way to the bathroom.

At one point you turned off the television and decided to listen to his exaggerated moans as he jerked himself off, secretly laughing to yourself.

» Park Sunghoon «

You jumped in shock when Sunghoon slid the shower curtain open, sliding in behind you.

"Hoon! Jesus you scared me" you sigh, sucking a breath in.

"Jesus, am I that scary" He jokes, tickling your sides, "Booooo!"

"Shut up dummy" you laugh, turning around to face him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. His hands rubbed all over your back, before landing on your ass, giving it a squeeze. "Perv" you roll your eyes playfully.

"You have a nice ass babe" he admits, giving it another squeeze to emphasize his point.

"So do you" you say, reaching for his ass and giving it a light slap.

"Heyyyy" he whines, swatting your hands away. You giggle at his blushing cheeks, pinching them. It's only when you realise why he's blushing after feeling his tip nudge your belly.

"Extra perv" you giggle, watching as he tries to defend himself.

"It's not my fault your ass is so soft" he blames you ass of growing him an erection, making you shrug your shoulders.

"Unlucky for you, I'm not a fan of shower sex" you say, sliding the curtain open and getting out, leaving him hanging with a raging boner. "B-but" he sighed when you he realised you were already out of the room.

He better have a good mental image of your nice ass cause he's gonna need it to get himself off.

Hi, thanks for reading till the end! I hope you enjoyed this post! Have a good day/night and remember that ily <333

If you enjoyed this post, you could support this blog by tipping me here! Anything it greatly appreciated.

[yourfavepookiebear]

This is my first time making a request so sorry if this makes no sense.

Self aware Twisted Wonderland with a player who randomly gets transported into their world. For Characters I was thinking about Azul, Malleus, Leona, and Riddle.

If this is too much you can ignore it.

A/n : This request has been sitting in my inbox for 2 months so I decided to finally answer it 😭 also sorry anon, for the extremely late reply 😅 for some reason I feel like I'm writing a fairytale for kids or sum lmao, also I wrote this while simultaneously doing my homework jsyk , it took me a lit to write this if you can tell, but can you tell I wrote this in 2 different days ?

Cw: Leona being lazy and a bit unhinged, bad writing, short asf, not proofread, Riddle kinning pomeranians and chihuahas, Malleus just being Malleus, ooc, inaccurate character depiction

It's the day after Yuu appeared in twisted wonderland, the second day of school. (It's been a long time since I last played or read twisted wonderland so bear with me) for plot purposes and diversity, each character will have slightly different plot, like time and place.

◇ Leona Kingscholar

It was just another irritating day for Leona, as he was sleeping in the botanical gardens, skipping class as usual. His tail swished left to right, as he tried to fall asleep. For some reason though, much to his annoyance, he couldn't fall asleep. Normally he had no problem dozing off, but today was different. He grits his teeth and glares at air particles, then he sits upright and stares at a random direction. Suddenly he hears footsteps, and the familiar voice of Ruggie approaching his location.

Leona rolls his eyes just as Ruggie emerges, not even sparing him a glance. Ruggie sighs and walks towards Leona

"Hey Leona, I got your sandwich"

Ruggie then hands him a sandwich and glances at him

"What's wrong ? You seem pretty down-in-the-dumps today. Not that you're usually a ray of sunshine, but still."

Leona just huffs and plucks some grass from the ground, then answers

"I can't sleep."

Ruggie blinks owlishly, then tilts his head to the side

"Woah, THE Leona Kingscholar, unable to sleep ? That's a new one.."

"Tsk, whatever."

Is all Leona says, as he rolls his eyes and lays down on the grass once again, closing his eyes. Ruggie takes the hint and walks away, going back to wherever he came from.

About an hour later, Leona wakes up to the sound of footsteps, yet this time they're not Ruggie's. In fact, they're not familiar at all..

Leona opens his eyes but stays still, a bit curious to know who this mysterious person is. On one side he doesn't give a shit, but on another side he's curious because, just what could a stranger be possibly doing at NRC ?

Suddenly someone jumps on top of him, effectively knocking the air out of his lungs. He jolts awake, bewildered and shocked.

"What the-"

His eyes widen as he recognizes the person who's crushing him with their weight..holy shit, what the hell is the player doing here ???

"Player ?"

He says, baffled, he genuinely doesn't know how to react. One minute he was peacefully sleeping, the other he wakes up to the player suddenly spawning on top of him ?? His thought process is cut off as his ears are flooded with high-pitched screaming and shrieking

"OH MY LORD, LEONA ????? AM I DREAMING ?? HES SO MUCH HOTTER IN PERSON OMFG"

He blinks, once, twice, thrice, his mouth open and his eyes wide, his ears twitching

"Player ?? What..."

(I'm gonna end it here becuz Im lazy asf and I have to go sleep soon, the rest is up to you and your imagination sorry pookies)

◇ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is in the mostro lounge, he finishes making a deal with some random student, he bids them goodbye with that shady smile plastered on his face, and as soon as they leave he looks over to the clock. 7pm, it's still early yet it's already dark outside. He sighs and grabs his stuff, preparing to go back to his dorm room. Suddenly, he feels something brushing against his leg. He frowns and looks around, confused as to what it may be.

He hopes its not a prank from the twins, as he shrugs it off and continues what he was doing, until he feels it again.

He gets up from his office chair and looks under his desk, only to find...

What ? There's someone asleep under his desk ?? He pulls them out from under his desk, and immediately recognizes that face. It's the player !

He is absolutely baffled. How did the player randomly spawn under his office desk, asleep and in pajamas ?? This is very confusing..

◇ Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was in his room, studying whatever the hell subjects they have in nrc.

He gets up to go drink a cup of natural mineral water with a 100% recycled bottle, then somehow trips on something.

He looks down and jumps 10 meters back, eyes blown wide as saucers and lets out the loudest and longest scream on earth, so loud that even I am put to shame.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"

Somehow though, for plot purposes, no one hears him. Tatatatata, he looks over at the thing that was on the floor and is shocked to see you, the player, asleep on his floor, snoring like, so hard every single one of the prehistoric cavemen (Leona included) would lower their heads in respect.

(Anyways skip I'm lazy)

◇ Malleus Draconia

As we all know, Malleus loves walking around at night, and that makes a lot of people think he's some insane psychopath who's gonna stalk them then impale them with his horns.

After his nightly walk he came back to Diasomnia dorm just to find, you, aka the player and the one he thinks of so religiously every single day. He takes a step towards you, which isn't a lot since he's at the start of a hallway and you're at the end but whatever.

And that was his first mistake. Lo and behold there were you, at the end of the dark ass hallway, staring at him like you just witnessed some middle aged guy take off his pants and wip out his d*ck, then smack you across the face with it, oh and as if it was so long Drake would be put to shame.

You screamed like a banshee and ran away as if you were being chased by Drake's pipe.

Then you yelled out louder than Leona's snoring "MAMA MIA WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING WILLY WONKA AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE" -Player's last words, may they rest in peace and remain forever remembered.

Jkjk you just ran into the wall and passed out. And Lilia was just watching the whole time and laughing his ass off. But you made Malleus sad tho :(

You woke up in Malleus's bedroom after having a nightmare about Drake's elevator.

[blondephenobarbitol]

A list of Nightmare Time episode ideas that I thought of and I think would be cool:

1.) Mr. Chasity has been trying to sell the old Waylon Place for far too long. After trying and failing over and over, he decides to take matters into his own hands by going in himself to see what all the fuss is about. But nothing could have prepared him to meet the real ghosts of Waylon Hall. And boy oh boy do they have shenanigans in store. (The episode would be called 'Unholy Ghost') .

2.) It's been a few months since Hatchetfield was destroyed in that awful 'accident'. Emma and Paul have been living under the aliases Kelly and Ben Bridges. (there can be a joke where Emma doesn't even pretend to care about her alias and Paul cares too much.) They live in Colorado now. Emma's finally started her pot farm, and Paul is working in marketing. For the most part, they have a good life. Only Paul's acting a bit different lately. Emma caught him humming company jingles, tapping his foot to a beat she can't hear. Maybe those spores he inhaled had some effect on him. It's probably nothing, but he's never sung in the shower before...(I don't have a name for this one yet.) .

3.) Max Jägerman is failing remedial algebra. In fact, he's doing so poorly that his dad shells out and hires him a tutor, PJ. (Bryce's nerd from 'Literal Monster.) He reluctantly lets her help him. At first it seems to work and his grades are rising steadily, but as PJ lets her guard down, Max starts to notice some things. Strange symbols scribbled in the margins of her notebook, almost like...jagged smiles? Weird stains on her hands, when she gets too close she smells like roadkill. And there's this white spider that keeps showing up in his room. Sometimes he feels like it's trying to tell him something. Or warn him. Without knowing what he's gotten himself into, Max has to evade getting his soul swallowed by a hungry god of darkness. (The episode is called 'Dirty Dude Soup') .

4.) Charlotte Sweetly is jealous. Her church friend, Carol Davidson, has exactly the kind of life she wants. Charlotte's seen the way her boss talks about his wife, and would give anything for Sam to feel that way about her. One day, Charlotte finally gathers her courage and asks her how she does it. Carol takes pity on her, and decides to reveal an important secret: it's all the product of a ritual, an ancient spell she stumbled upon on a trip to an amusement park. She claims that ever since she did it, her husband can't get enough of her. "I am all he sees. He calls me the apple of his eye." Charlotte doesn't believe her at first, but Carol gave her the instructions, and why the hell not? She tries it. Unfortunately, Charlotte messes up the wording. The spell still works, but not quite as intended. And an all-seeing police officer could be a good thing, but Sam is not a good police officer. (maybe let's call this one 'Omnipocop'. But that's awful to spell so suggestions are welcome) .

5.) While trying to be an assistant, Steph accidentally botches one of Pete's science projects. He forgives her, but she still feels bad even as he assures her it's no big deal, throwing the mix of chemicals out his window just to prove it. What he doesn't know is that the last family that lived in the Spankoffski house buried their dog in the backyard, and Pete's chemical slurry just brought it back to life. On a probably unrelated note, Paul has been trying to ignore the damage he's finding in his apartment. He's been chalking most of the tipped over garbage cans and torn apart cushion up to rats--giant rats?--or maybe a squirrel. But when a decades-old "missing dog" poster shows up on his doorstep, he can't ignore the truth for any longer. (the episode would be called "Patches' Revenge" and I thing it would work because it's just the right amount of weird. It would end with Paul teaming up with the nerds to defeat undead Patches with science.) .

6.) To his utter delight, Miss Holloway finally agreed to go out with Duke on a proper date. Nothing huge, just some ice cream and a walk on the beach. They're both enjoying themselves when Miss Holloway hears something. Duke can't hear it, but he still follows her down the shore to some kind of cave grotto, where she claims the noise is coming from. She tosses a pebble into the water, testing how it might react. A few moments later, the pebble come flying out again. Duke is stunned, but Miss Holloway tosses her ice cream cone. Sure enough, a few moments later is comes flying back, perfectly dry. They've clearly discovered something, and over the next few days, Duke and Miss Holloway experiment and try to learn about the grotto and the water in it. It's too deep to see the bottom, so their tests mostly involve tossing different things to see how they'll react. Little do they know, there was a reason Miss Holloway could hear a noise coming from the cave. There's a reason it drew her in, too. There's something singing to her, something that lives at the bottom of the grotto. And with each thing they feed it, it becomes a little bit stronger...(and then it's called something unassuming like "Wavecrest Cave")

So that's Nightmare Time season four all lined up. Please tell me if you have a good name idea for episodes 2 and 4. Also if anyone wants to use these as writing prompts, be my guest (just tag me so I can read them)

[konigceo]

your first time with the colonel♡

lala's notes : when will the day come when i write an actual fic *sigh* MINNA APPROVED™️

cw : könig x afab!reader, smut, edging (kinda), unprotected sex, könig doesn't let u take him all, he doesn't cum :(, mein liebe as a petname, i call him peepaw like one time bc that man is at least in his late 30s!!!!!!, under 13 do not interact, I AM 15 YEARS OLD IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE PLS DNI!!!!!!!!!!!!

your first time with könig is so cute and soft :( he takes his tiiiiiiime you guys! he checks in so often and takes it sooo slow you might even get frustrated;; he just wants to make sure his love is feeling the best they ever will, that's all. könig would never even dare putting it all in the first time. he spends so long prepping you with his fingers and tongue, making you cum at least 2 times. he needs you to be as relaxed as you can be in order for this to be as smooth as possible after all :(

he makes youㅡnoㅡpractically forces you take only half of him, no matter how much you might beg him. "shh, mein liebe. you know better than to take all of me, do you not?" it doesn't matter if you take half or all of him though, he'll make you cum just as hard on either.

könig would never tell you that he has to edge himself when you're half way on his cock. he puts all his effort into not cumming so fast :( it's been so long since peepaw has had a good fucking and it's soo hard to contain himself when you're a mess for him.

könig works through the slight ache though, and makes sure you cum first. it's not proper for him to get to cum so fast. you couldn't care less, with how good his hips are rolling onto yours, and his fingers toying with your clit.

your orgasm rushes onto you unexpectedly, the pleasure overwhelming your body. the way you squeeze around könig makes his head faint. "mein liebe.. i- mphh..." he lets out a slight whimper. his head is filled with you, and only you. he knows better than to keep going, though. he's worked your body to a limit, and you know that, too.

könig slowly pulls his still hard cock out of your slick hole, admiring the sight in front of him. your pretty pussy all dripping for him, a faint ring of slick on the base of his cock :( he fucked you too good, didn't he? but if that was only half of him, imagine how heavenly taking his full length would be!!

könig lays next to you on your shared bed, trying his best to ignore the ache in his cock. he even thinks of rushing to the bathroom to get a quick release before sleep, but remembers you need a bath first. könig lifts you into his arms and draws a hot bath for you, making sure his love feels truly like his loved one.

könig presses a chaste kiss to your forehead as you melt into his arms, cherishing the lovely moment♡

(he in fact did jerk off in the middle of the night after u fell asleep)

comments & reblogs r always appreciated (๑>؂•̀๑)

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ iii ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

masterlist.

“Are you feeling better now?” Lando asks, concern marring his handsome features. True to his words, he comes by your hotel room after he finishes the qualifying race. You don't expect him to. The race ended quite late in the evening and you're sure he has to prepare for tomorrow but he's knocking on your door by quarter to twelve and you let him in. He’ll start tomorrow in fourth position, he told you. You acted pleasantly surprised at his revelation as if you didn't watch an illegal livestream of the race on your phone earlier.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He lets out a relieved sigh, hand coming up to his chest, “Oh thank fuck. I was worried.”

“By the way, thank you for driving me home last night. I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“Did Jinnie tell you that?”

“No, it's in X. They saw you carrying me to your car.”

Your sleeping face on camera is going to haunt your dreams forever. The oily skin and your mouth hanging open. You don't sleep pretty. Knetizens like playing god, smiting everything not pretty, especially celebrities. You're not checking out Naver lately because you're scared of finding what's there.

“Were you doing something? I can leave if you're busy.”

“It's nothing important,” you wave your hand dismissively. “Just working on a song.”

Lando’s eyebrows rise to his hairline.

“You produce songs?”

You nod, humming.

“The reason I agreed to this PR stunt is to get publicity for my upcoming single,” you explain. You assume Lando already knows about it, the real reason why you're here. Despite that, you still tell him anyway. “Wanna hear it, boyfriend?”

“I didn't know you produce songs.”

“Well, now you know.”

He laughs at the dryness of your tone.

“Well, I’m glad you offered. I wouldn't mind listening.”

“It's all just basic melodies. Nothing concrete.”

You hand him a headphone.

“So you’re like KPop Charlie Puth?”

Lando takes the headphone.

“Please, I can't even compare to his producing skills.”

You press play on Demo_42.

You order hotel service food because he tells you he hasn't eaten and while you both finish the bowls of noodles, you converse with each other. Talking with Lando is easy, you find out. He knows how to keep the conversation alive and going despite the fact that you don't have much to say most of the time, that you frequently speak with finality. You praise him during the conversation once. He says he’s got practice from his teammate, who, like you, is a man of few words. He decides it is time to go back to his hotel at 2:50 AM.

“Thank you for today, boyfriend,” you say and if you sound too sincere, you like to think it’s because you’re a good actress.

A flustered laugh escapes his throat.

“I like the sound of that, girlfriend.”

A pause.

“I think I learned a lot about you today,” he scratches his nose and moves his hands as if he doesn't know what to do with them. “Thanks. For that.”

You wave your hand dismissively, as if to tell him that you don't need his thanks.

“Drive safe.”

“Good night, girlfriend.”

The WAG wardrobe of the day consisted of a Dsquared2 black suited jumpsuit and Versace crystal medusa ‘95 sandals of the same color. For accessories, you go with silver. Rings are your staple and earrings to pair. You don't wear a necklace.

When you reach for your racer jacket, a personal favorite that you think will absolutely be the highlight of your outfit with its white-red-black color combo, Jinnie stops you.

“Wear the McLaren one,” she orders, pointing at the McLaren jacket that sits on the couch. Orange. Bright. Easy to notice. It's almost as if it’s begging for attention.

You grimace.

“No.”

“[Name],” Jinnie’s voice holds warning. You ignore it. Obedience is not your strong suit.

“No.”

Despite your insistence, you end up leaving the racer jacket at the hotel and bringing the tacky McLaren one to the paddock. You secretly brought a black blazer and shove it inside your shoulder bag, which caused the bag to look like a Minecraft block. You pout childishly in the backseat of the car. You don't like orange.

“Stop pouting.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

You hear Jinnie sigh, exasperated.

“I can't with you sometimes.”

You ask Jinnie to drive by a coffee shop. You tell her what you wanted to get—an iced Americano with five shots of espresso and Lando’s coffee—and she leaves to buy it while you stay inside the car and patiently wait for her to return. She insisted on getting the coffee herself and you do not dare to complain. You like it this way anyway.

Jinnie, like the day of the FP1, drops you off at the same parking lot. You hop off the car.

“Text me when you need help. I’ll be nearby.”

You give her a thumbs up and Jinnie drives off.

It's night time but you pull a pair of sunglasses on, toss a ball cap over your head, and a face mask to cover the rest of your face. The McLaren jacket is tied around your shoulders. You don't want to wear it but Jinnie insists it has to be on your being. You're waiting for an opportunity to take it off, perhaps at the garage. You can strategically leave it on an empty chair or any flat surface and act like you have forgotten it.

You carry your phone in your right hand, your paddock pass and a paper zarf with two takeout coffees in the left. You send a quick message to Lando.

you: here

He replies not even three seconds later.

lando: coming

lando: same place?

you: okk heading there now

you: you reply fast

you: do you always hold your phone while in the garage?

lando: it's either i reply fast or i reply a week later take your pick

You let out an amused snort and lock your phone. You begin walking.

You freeze mid-step. The path you took on the day of the FP1 is filled with people. It's not supposed to be this crowded. This is a place far away from the stands and the track and the general admission area. It's also a good distance away from the team garages and the food stalls. It shouldn't be this crowded.

Your hands begin to tremble and become clammy. You lower your head, gaze fixing on the cement pathwalk. The people haven't noticed that it's you. At least, not yet. That's good. You can still leave and hide.

This is not what we planned, says your conscience. You're not a coward. Why are you running away like one?

I’m not a coward. If you say it as many times as you can, perhaps it will become the truth.

You turn around but begin to hesitate midway as you remember something.

Lando’s on his way. You can't leave now.

You swallow hard and turn back up front slowly. You let out a shaky breath and force your heart to become steady. You clench your hands into fists in an attempt to get them to start shaking.

They can't see my face, you assure yourself mentally.

Your hands, now fists, are still trembling.

I can do this.

You walk into the den of lions, not looking back even once. You take deep breaths underneath your mask. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth; it's not going well for you. The longer you perform the breathing exercises, the more you think you're going to end up with a public meltdown.

They're all looking at you.

You can feel their collective gazes.

“Is that her?” you hear someone murmur. Your shoulders turn tense but you keep walking.

“It’s her, right?”

“I don't think so. She could be just a random fan.”

“Wait, look at the jacket. It has Lando’s last name stitched at the hem.”

A loud gasp, “Is that his personal jacket?”

“That's her! That's [Name]!”

Someone snatches your cap. Your eyes widen. You hurriedly turn your head to the side. Your sunglasses fly off at the abrupt movement. Your panic intensifies and you feel the air in your lungs running away and your throat closing up. The same way the crowd closes up on you. None of them even grant you the mercy of leaving a tiny gap for you to escape through. You are but a sheep in a den of lions about to be slaughtered.

You see faces and the backs of phones all pointing at you. They're all screaming your name, excitement apparent in their loud voices. You don't understand any other word they're saying, only your name. The chanting of [Name], [Name], [Name]; the tone slowly shifts into eerie the longer you listen to it.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They always do.

If this exact situation you're in happened two years ago, before the scandal, you would have adored the attention. You know how to handle a crowd confidently, the best at it among all the members of ORACLE if you dare say so.

But now, the attention is just….

You want nothing more than to hide from it.

No matter how you try to convince yourself that you can handle it, that you can handle when everybody looks at you, you can’t. You try to control how your mind thinks but ultimately, it is your mind that controls your entire being.

Someone snatches the face mask off your face before you can stop them. Now, you feel too naked, too bare. You slap a hand over the lower half of your face, dropping the coffee cups and your paddock pass down on the ground. You hiss when the coffee burns your feet. A chorus of surprised yelps. A few curse words are thrown in the air. Because of the spilled coffee, the crowd parts. You see a space and you waste no time weaving yourself from the people to try and leave.

The gap disappears when a person blocks it and you halt in your steps, almost colliding with the person. Your chin snaps up and your eyes widen, terrified, when Kang Geon Ho’s familiar face smiles at you. Kang Geon Ho, the sun to your Icarus, the one responsible for your downfall.

“Smile, [Name].”

A camera lens appear. The camera clicks just as a hand comes up to block it. Before you know it, the camera is wrenched away from your face.

“Fuck off, mate. That's too close.”

You’ve never never been more relieved seeing Lando there again.

The crowd grows impossibly louder. You have to cover your ears with your hands so the sheer volume of everyone’s screams won't damage your eardrums. Your eyes met Lando’s worried ones. He's frowning, you notice. You see his mouth move. He's talking to you, but you're not hearing anything and you can't read his lips either. You figure he’s asking you if you want to leave with him so you nod, a little too eagerly.

You don't expect him to throw you over his shoulder and make a run for it, a surprised scream already making its way out of your throat as your hands grip his hair so you won't fall.

username: livetweeting from the paddock rn and i think i just witnessed smth bizarre. i think i just saw a driver (or was it a mechanic??? idk really) running with someone on their shoulder

username: is there a kidnapping going on inside the paddock??

username: girl it's lando and his girl

username: what 😭😭

Your chest rises and falls in quick breaths as you try to catch your breath. You're leaning against the wall, both hands pressing flat against the wall for support. Spots are invading your visions, not disappearing even after finally standing upright. The bright orange color of the walls isn’t helping you either. You think you're going to lose consciousness or vomit your brunch or both.

“I think she needs to sit down,” the brunette sweetheart says. She was already in the garage when Lando pulled up with you in tow, locking hands with the guy you recognized as Lando’s teammate. It's a no-brainer. She's another WAG like you.

“No thank you,” you say in between heavy breaths. You start coughing. Lando rubs your back in soothing circles. “I’m fine. Just… I’m anemic.”

You need to start fixing your sleep schedule at your earliest convenience. Need to start exercising, too. You're not even this unfit before.

“Lando, mate, come on,” Oscar berates. “Is your IQ a single digit number?”

“I was just trying to get her out, mate!” Lando defends himself.

Oscar’s girlfriend shakes her head at the two. She draws closer to you, taking your hand in hers and pulls you away from the busy part of the garage and towards the back.

“I think it's best if we move someone less crowded, hm?”

You hear Lando protesting but you don't bother glancing back at him as Oscar coaxes him.

The girl makes you sit down in a monoblock chair she found, hands you a battery-operated mini fan that she conjured from inside her tote bag, and takes the empty space beside you.

“Are you thirsty?” You shake your head.

“Just dizzy,” you sigh. “Thank you, uh….”

“It's Lily,” she smiles. Lily is such a perfect name for a girl as sweet as her. You dip your chin to a light bow.

“I’m [Name].”

You and Lily watch the race together. She is pleasant company. She only talks when she needs to, which makes you happy because you’re not a person who’s particularly fond of chit chat. You don't hide your confusion as you both spectate the races projected on the large screen; you don't know what's happening for half the race. Lily is kind enough to explain everything to you. You know, you can tell if someone is intelligent when they are able to dumb down complicated information and explain it to another person where the information is easily understandable. Lily is definitely an intelligent woman.

“You're so…” you try to find the right word. “... Knowledgeable at this. Like not just the race and rules but the engines and cars and—”

You move your hand and hope it conveys what you're trying to say.

Lily giggles, “I’m studying engineering so I understand how the cars work. Most of the time, at least.

Your mouth forms an O, amazed.

She’s the type of woman you’d bring home to meet your parents. Oscar, that lucky motherfucker. You turn your gaze back to the monitor.

“You?”

You chuckle nervously, “I-I didn't finish uni.”

“I’m not finished with university either,” Lily says and you appreciate the underlying message in her words—there’s nothing to be ashamed about if you didn't finish uni. But here's the difference between you and Lily. She's going to finish uni some day. You're never going to.

South Korea is known for their high standards in education and you once received backlash when you shared that you only finished a year and one semester in university before dropping out.

“Psychology,” you tell her. “One year and one sem.”

“Psychology is such an interesting program.”

“Yeah.” It's the only course that the scholarship program you applied to is willing to offer to you. You didn't choose it because you wanted to. You were so poor you don't even have the luxury of a choice. “Agreed.”

You continue watching.

“Oh that was smart of him,” you note. “The red one. He’s going to win.”

“Ferrari?”

“Yeah. The one in front of Lando,” you point out.

“I think Lando can overtake him. Or maybe one of the Mercedes since they got fresh tires while the first two are still using their old ones.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but the red one slowed down slightly until Lando was one second behind him. Then, Lando activated the DRS—that’s called a DRS, right?” Lily nods in confirmation. “And then that, uh… buffered the DRS of the fast black car behind Lando. So with that, Lando is able to defend his place but since he’s busy defending his place, he can't overtake the red car at the front.”

Giving yourself an advantage in the guise of helping someone. You rub your fingertips together in thought.

“Only three laps left. He’s going to win. Lando will either come second or third.”

“You’re quick at this,” Lily compliments.

You shrug nonchalantly despite feeling suddenly shy on the inside at the praise, “I try.”

“They used to be teammates, by the way.”

“Who?”

“Carlos and Lando.”

“Oh.”

You turn out to be right. The red car—the Ferrari and its driver, Carlos Sainz—wins the Singapore Grand Prix. Lando is a close second. Everyone inside the garage screams in pure ecstasy when he crosses the finish line and the checkered flag waves above the livery. You and Lily stand to clap your hands, happy for Lando. Lily’s boyfriend finishes seventh and you clap your hands for her, happy for her and her boy.

“Let's go to the podium, boys!”

You and Lily sit back down on your chairs so you can watch the ceremony on the screen but a mechanic comes by, tugs your arm, and says, “Come on! Your boyfriend is on the podium!”

Your eyes widen and you glance back at Lily, who grins widely at you and waves her hand encouragingly. Go, she mouths. You gulp and bend your head low as you make your way out of the garage and into the open. You lost your cap, your face mask, and your sunglasses at the earlier incident so you feel too bare. You want to go back to the garage. The garage is safer.

But you know full well that the world will question your absence. Why wouldn't a WAG support her boyfriend on the podium? They’d doubt your relationship and that's the last thing you need to happen right now.

You purse your lips and follow the other McLaren mechanics, speed walking while they all jog. You watch the awarding at the front row, strategically standing near a tall McLaren aerodynamic engineer so you can hide behind him once you see a camera panning in your direction.

Lando shines on top. Even if he's only second, he shines as if he’s the race winner. You're proud of him. You’re not acting this time.

You slowly clap your hands and smile in a way a girlfriend does when his boyfriend does something incredible—lovingly and in awe. All the people in McLaren watch Lando with proud faces.

He’s loved, you realize. Very much so. By his entire team. He’s his team’s prince. That's why they worked so hard in protecting him to the point that they'll hire a fake girlfriend to kill the rumors that damaged his reputation. And when a team loves their prince, the prince shines.

You used to be like this, too. HAN Ent used to love you like this. Not anymore.

He meets your eyes and they look gray and you notice how they widen slightly as if he didn't expect you to be here. Then, he grins, lifting the bottle of champagne as if he’s trying to show it to you. You give him a thumbs up and laugh, covering your face as you do so.

You return to the garage after the ceremony and the fireworks display. You and Lily wait patiently together for your boyfriends—your fake boyfriend but boyfriend nonetheless; you’re unsure if Lily and Oscar and any other McLaren staff employee besides the PR team are aware of the nature of your relationship with Lando—to finish the formalities of a post-race. The podiums, the interviews, and whatnot.

When they enter the garage, Lily immediately goes straight to Oscar, who meets her halfway and engulfs her in a tight hug. Your heart softens.

You turn to Lando who stands closely behind Oscar. He's looking at Oscar and Lily before he trails his gaze to you. Shrugging his shoulders, he opens his arms. You raise a single questioning brow.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You're sweaty.”

“You don't see Lily complaining that Oscar’s sweaty.”

Lando inches towards you. You take a cautious step back.

“Lando, no.”

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. You prepare yourself to make a run for it.

“Lando, no. LANDO!”

He breaks out into a sprint. Naturally, you also make a run for it, not wanting to hug a very sweaty Lando.

You tire yourself quickly and your heels put you in a great disadvantage. Naturally, Lando catches in his arms in just a few minutes. You struggle against his arms at first then later, you resign to your fate despite not liking the feeling of sticky and damp skins. You're not the fittest person and Lando is a high-performance athlete; you fought a losing game.

“Oh, right,” Lando pulls away but still remains holding your wrists. “The team is planning to celebrate tonight. Do you want to come with me?”

With me, you note. Not with us but with me.

“Raincheck?” You're not sure if you’re using the right word in the right context. Hence, the questioning tone.

“Not a party girl, aren't you?”

You shake your head, “I prefer working in my hotel room anyway.”

“Oh right…. The song….”

“Mhm, the song.”

Lando glances at your surroundings. The mechanics are packing up everything now.

“I mean, I can miss the party.”

You raise a brow, confused.

“Why would you want to miss the party? You're second place today.”

Lando makes a weird noise that sounds like it's between an amused laugh and a disappointed groan, “Don't remind me. But yeah, I can miss it. Oscar already went with Lily anyway. I think it'll be suspicious if I spend the night partying instead of going with you, am I right, girlfriend?”

You roll your eyes, though not unkindly. He is right, you suppose.

“Besides, PR scheduled a hard launch today.”

Ah, dreadful hard launches. You need to make a new Instagram account just for Lando when you return to the hotel. It's a drag. You’ve never operated Instagram since 2021. You’ve kept burner accounts in Tiktok and X, formerly Twitter, but never Instagram. Not since the scandal.

“Okay."

Lando grins with glee.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

username1: IT’S CONFIRMED GUYS IT'S CONFIRMED

username2: AAAAAAHHHH F1TV HARDLAUNCHING THEIR RELATIONSHIP BEFORE ANY OF THEM CONFIRMS

username3: lando already did

username4: by accident 😭 does it even count as a hard launch

Lando snorts audibly from his place on the couch. You look up from your laptop and send him a confused look. You're inside your hotel room again, enjoying the silence while basking in each other's presence.

He shows you the tweet, making you cringe when you see your face on the screen.

“Did McLaren Racing tell them I was your partner?”

“I think so, yeah.”

You sigh.

“Well, it's nice to know they told everyone for us. At least, we don't have to do it ourselves.”

“Do I even need to hard launch you now?”

You shrug.

username5: lando wins p2 and girlie’s reaction was like:

username6: lmaooo why does she look so angry she be squinting at everything 😤 gurl never beating the bitchy allegations

username7: what kind of wag is this? she should just go back to south korea fr idk what lando sees in her

LandoNorris: Hi! To clarify, my girlfriend’s default face is angry but she's not angry, she's just confused. and she’s squinting because of astigmatism. She actually isn't sure what's happening because everything is so fast for her.

LandoNorris: And she's holding her bangs so it wouldn't fly away in the wind lol. She forgot to spray it this morning. Please don't misunderstand thanks.

username6: LANDO???

username8: lmao lando be suddenly remembering that he has a twt acc just to tell people not to badmouth his girl

username9: MORE LOWQUAL [NAME] SCREENSHOTS

username10: ugh she looks so annoying and fake fr

username11: get a life

Lando reports the hate tweet before he shows you your pictures.

“Your bangs are so thick. It's like you’re hiding a dozen secrets in there.”

You snort, “I might be.”

“What secrets?”

In the most serious, no nonsense tone you can muster, you say, “I killed my mother.”

Lando laughs.

username12: LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT BARK BARK

LandoNorris: 🤺🤺🤺

username13: i want lando’s girl 😭😭😭

LandoNorris: well too bad, she doesn't want you, she wants me

username14: LMAO CANT BELIEVE IM SEEING JEALOUS LANDO

username15: rip fuckboi lando, hello loyal and protective bf lando

LandoNorris: Well, cat’s out of the bag now 🤷

LandoNorris: But I'm still not very happy with what happened earlier before the race. Our relationship might be out now but it doesn't make it okay for all of you to gather around [Name] like what happened today. I sincerely ask everyone to respect us.

“Oh, that's a sick beat," Lando lifts his head.

“Sick?”

“I mean it's good. Good sick. Not like sick sick, fever sick.”

He’s saying the word “sick” a little too much.

“Woo, that wasn't very cool of me.”

“You're lucky I’m fake dating you even if you’re uncool.”

“Uh, rude?”

A phone ring interrupts you both. It's not yours.

Lando stands from the couch and walks away to answer the call on the balcony. You continue tweaking the bits. It still doesn't sound like it's worthy to be a single. This song has to be perfect. It doesn't have to be SOTY material, it just has to be the song. You have to make a mark to gain your relevance in the KPop industry back.

Lando comes back, his phone against his ear.

“Do you mind helping me out, baby?”

“What is it?” you ignore the way your heart wavers slightly because of the “baby.” It's not the word. You're used to hearing people call sweet pet names. It's just the way he utters it. You can't find a few accurate words to describe it. Affectionate? Soft? Real.

“My family kinda….wants to see you?” He pulls the phone away from his ear and covers the microphone of the gadget with his hand. He whispers: “They don't know we're fake dating and they just saw the race.”

“Oh,” you hurriedly fix yourself, straightening your hair and setting your laptop aside. Family wasn't in the list of the people allowed to know of the PR stunt. You're not surprised that Lando didn't tell them. However, you still didn't expect them to call their son over this. “Video call or…?”

“Video.”

You nod. You hurriedly smooth out the creases of your top.

“Do I look perfect now?”

“Beautiful.”

You give him a look. You won't accept anything less than perfect.

“You look okay, [Name].”

“I’m going to get my powder—”

Lando grabs your elbow, “No, you’re already beautiful. You don't need to reapply. Oh, look, hey Mum!”

Your eyes widen and you cover the lower half of your face with your palm as Lando moves the phone so the two of you can be seen on the screen. You shyly wave and his mother proceeds to scream. You jump slightly.

“Sorry, that was your sister.”

Lando laughs, shaking his head.

“You have a sister?” you whisper-ask.

“Yeah,” he holds up two fingers. “Two younger ones. They're Corales.”

Your eyes widen. Corale is the fandom of ORACLE. (You hate this name but that's what the company decided.)

“You're serious.”

“Dead serious,” Lando says. “That's why they called immediately. You're Cisca’s bias. Flo is OT7.”

You gape. You can't believe you're hearing this.

“I—”

Your surprise turns into horror. Lando's sisters are definitely aware of your scandal. As fans of ORACLE, they're certainly updated about it.

Shit.

“Let me talk to her. Let me talk to her. Oh my god, hiiiiii.”

You force yourself to smile and shyly wave at his sister. She squeals, excited.

“OH MY GOD, LANDO YOU FINALLY DID SOMETHING RIGHT IN YOUR LIFE.”

“Hey!” Lando barks. “Can you at least act like you respect me in front of my girlfriend please? Jeez, Cisca.”

“Let me see her—Oh my god, I will cry. Annyeong [Name]-unnie! Eotteohge jinaeseyo? Dangsin-eun neomu yeppeuda!”

You chuckle softly, “Hi, I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.”

“Your Korean is terrible.”

“Shut up, Kinder.”

“I think your Korean is wonderful. Lando is just being mean,” you say, making Lando gasp as if your words offended him. “I love your hair.”

She squeals again, delighted.

“She noticed my hair! Oh my god! I went to the salon today just to talk to you! Wait, you’re speaking English?”

“I can speak English, yes.”

You turn to Lando, “What’s her name again?”

“Cisca.”

“Cisca,” you repeat slowly, testing how it sounds from your tongue.

“She said my name!”

You chuckle.

“Kinder, you are never ever allowed to mess this up! If you break up with her, I'm going to break your legs."

Cisca gets shoved away and another girl replaces her on the screen. Ah, she must be Flo, you think. She and Cisca look alike.

“Hi [Name]!”

“Hi Flo.”

“Have I already told you I loved you?”

You're unsure how to respond, “Thank you?”

“That's enough,” Lando decides, moving the phone away. You hear a series of protests.

“No, no, that’s enough.”

“Don't gatekeep your girlfriend!”

Lando, like a brat, sticks his tongue out to the camera, “I will do whatever I want.”

“Is she going to be in Suzuka? I’m flying to Suzuka! I need to see her!”

“Bye Flo, bye Cisca, bye Mum. Tell Dad and Oliver I said hi.”

“Kinder!”

Lando playfully sticks out his tongue towards the phone and ends the call.

You can't help but feel relieved. You expected them to hate you. But they didn't. So you're grateful.

“That wasn't very nice. They still wanted to talk.”

“No. They just wanted to fangirl.”

You shake your head at him.

“By the way, you’re coming to Suzuka, right? With me?”

He said with me instead of with us again.

“When is that again?”

You can't remember dates very well.

“The 24th.”

“The FP1?”

“No, the FP1’s on the 22nd.”

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “I have to go back to Seoul and talk to Yoon PD-nim.”

Further discussions about the whole agreement and situation has to be made. He sent you to Singapore only a day after accepting Yoon PD-nim's proposal. He didn't elaborate on the situation enough but has promised to explain after Singapore.

“I’ve never been to South Korea before.”

“You should come and visit then," you say, nonchalant.

“Okay, I’ll tell my manager I’m flying with you.”

You blink.

“Heh?”

Koreaboo: Former member of ORACLE, [Name] spotted today at Incheon International Airport with Formula One Racer boyfriend after the Singapore Grand Prix. Click the link to read more about this news.

koreabooo.com

“So you brought the boy along?”

“He brought himself.”

A heavy sigh goes past Yoon PD-nim’s lips. He lowers the paper in his hand to his desk. It's the revised contract with McLaren.

“What did they think about this?”

He’s referring to the contract.

“This isn't what was initially planned.”

“I know.”

“How did you get them to agree with your terms?”

Your terms, you note. His choice of words only remind you how alone you really are. The company is sending you as a soldier to a war you don't know how to navigate into and will do nothing to help you. They'll only wait for you to come back, either as a corpse or as a victor. If you return a corpse, they’ll dump you. Your contract is going to end in less than eleven months, it’ll be easy for them to do so. If you return a victor, they’ll reap all the benefits you sowed. You noticed a new McLaren in the parking lot today. Yoon PD-nim is already reaping benefits. If you're lucky, the only benefit you’ll get after this is a solo debut promotion and a contract extension.

“I did what I could."

You pushed a bluff and hoped it would go your way. Fortunately, it did go your way.

A proud smile appears on Yoon PD-nim's lips.

“I knew I was right in choosing you.”

He can never be so wrong.

A knock on the door ruins your concentration, causing you to draw a stray jagged line on the paper. You sigh, muttering a shibal beneath your breath. You do a quick glance on the time projected in your laptop—11:31 PM. You assume it’s Min Hee, a member of ORACLE who promised to come by earlier after her rehearsal for her solo in the upcoming MAMA Awards in November. It's still quite early to start practicing for the award show but Minhee always liked doing things in advance. When you open the door, your eyes widen.

It's not Minhee.

“Lando?”