#second try posting this because the first time i couldn't see it on my own dash and blog or the tags

[merlinemryspendragon]

Evil does not sleep, Elrond. It waits. And in the moment of our complacency, it blinds us. The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power S1E01 - A Shadow of the Past

[navstuffs]

About Tradition and Responsibility

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x WifeF!Reader

Summary: You, a non-Jujutsu sorcerer, married the Gojo Satoru. After having your first child, the higher-ups demand to meet you and your first born son.

Warning tags: protective!Satoru, tiny angst if you squint, non-jujutsu sorcerer reader, no y/n usage

Author's Notes: hiii, i wrote this based on my own post, having one of my favorite tropes (protectiveness)! this might have a second part i haven't wrote yet, we shall see. enjoy your reading!

You keep your head down, trying to focus on the peaceful expression of the baby in your arms, your first newborn son, Kotaro. He is perfect, from his white curls to his tiny toes. You can't help but give him a small smile, your hands gripping his little body, promising silently to always protect him from any harm in the world. You feel so much love for your son that it is difficult to understand anyone who could find his existence wrong due to one ridiculous minuscule detail: when Kotaro opens his eyes, they are your eye color. Not your husband's vivid, ethereal blue eyes. 

Because of that, Kotaro Gojo is considered a waste of time—almost a mistake, but no one would dare say that in front of you or his father.

The door in front of you opens, and an older lady announces that the elders are ready to see you. You get up from the bench, bringing Kotaro closer to your chest. 

It is finally time to face your curses.

-x-

When Gojo Satoru decided to marry a non-jujutsu user, the higher-ups thought it was a joke. A good one especially coming from Gojo, who was known to do anything to piss off the hierarchy of the Jujutsu world, as if Satoru's whole existence wasn't on top of all that, as if any of those ancient and outdated men had anything to complain about the woman he chose as his wife.

However, when Gojo decided to proceed with this marriage, most were still shocked. They never thought Gojo would marry anyone, so soon, interest spiked in the mysterious woman he decided to marry. 

You wish you could tell your first meeting with the strongest sorcerer had been something glorious, but no. It was in your small candy shop, the one passed down to you by your parents from their parents. On a rainy day, that strange tall man with white bandages and white hair entered, sniffing the air like a hound dog. Gojo insisted on buying all the sweets you had on display, and instead of leaving, heard you explain how you made each of them, fascinated. 

After that day, Satoru started appearing daily, buying all the sweets on display by the end of the day. Gojo always mentioned he first fell in love with your cooking, but you didn't know when exactly you fell in love with him. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone understand those sudden chills around your body as if something had been watching you until Satoru entered the shop. He never found that weird at all. 

At first, Gojo kept you away as best as he could. You could sense curses with a chill in your body but couldn't see them (a blessing, for what Gojo described sometimes). And since you met your now-future-husband, as powerful as you could remotely grasp he was, Gojo was also the silliest and most annoying man you ever met. If you got upset with something he did for any reason, he would not leave you alone until you reassured him you weren't mad anymore. On top of that, Satoru was easily manipulated with sweets. Again, a big grown baby.

He never shared the consequences of what it meant to marry him. The letters started coming two months after the marriage, with your name on them, presenting themselves as chairpeople of the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and they were eager to meet you whenever you could. Gojo always told you to ignore those letters, throw them in the trash, and burn them if you wanted. 

Then Kotaro was born. It had been a normal pregnancy, with the usual sickness in the morning and mood swings, but at least your baby was born healthy. You couldn't be happier, and Gojo couldn't be happier. The baby not having the same blue eyes didn't concern your husband, reassuring you that everything was fine.

Until it wasn't: the letter that made you come into this meeting with the elders without your husband's knowledge had a clear underlying threat in those polite words: You were to bring Kotaro for them to look at, or they would be forced to bring you in. Gojo had shielded you from this for far too long.

As soon as you enter the oval room, you notice the covers: you can't see any faces, but you are sure all stares are on you and your baby. Kotaro rubs his face against your chest, and you bring him closer, shielding him from their judgmental glances.

"Come forward." A masculine voice demands.

You walk in the middle of the room and stop. No one speaks.

"You wanted to see me?" You ask, surprised your voice isn't trembling. You wonder if they can hear your heart exploding in your chest. 

"Yes. We never had the chance to meet with the wife of Gojo Satoru; he has kept you hidden for a long time."

"I am sure he had his reasons." 

"Not that it matters who Gojo Satoru decided to marry, but his decisions impact the Jujutsu World, wanting or not." An older voice speaks, clearly angry with your disobedience. 

"And who would stop him from making those decisions?" You question, trying to sound courteous but instead sounding resentful. Satoru has told you about these higher-ups: focused on their old ways, not allowing anything that disturbs their way. Only their way is correct. Tradition. Anything that breaks from the fine formal line should be eliminated. "No one can stop Gojo Satoru from doing what he wants. As his wife, I should be the first one to know."

Silence. You breathe deeply, part of you still fearful of what is about to come. They have yet to speak about Kotaro, so you dread the inevitable moment. Now, something deep inside of you screams you should have told Satoru. What if you walked straight into a trap?

"Your child." A third voice speaks, and the whole atmosphere of the room seems to change when he mentions your son. You grip Kotaro's small body again, ready for what will come. "He does not possess the same eyes as his father, as we can see."

"So? It is not like every single member of the clan was born with six eyes." You ask defiantly.

"Of course not," The man snickers. "But this is Gojo Satoru's son. Haven't you thought about the consequences of having a child with a man like that?"

"Satoru keeps us safe! And if he isn't here, I keep my child safe. Never underestimate the love a mother has for her child."

"There is no doubt in a mother's love for her child. There is also no doubt that some might carry a heavy hatred for Gojo Satoru. If, for some reason, you were caught vulnerable…"

"What? What are you talking about?" Your voice shakes a little, but you keep yourself steady. For Kotaro.

"Many curses and even sorcerers have hidden and disappeared because of Gojo. Many fear him. When your husband was born, he altered the balance of our world. If there is an even remote possibility Gojo can't defend himself or, even worse, if you get pregnant again and this baby comes with six eyes…we can't even imagine how bad it would be the repercussions." The tone of false concern disgusts you. Sensing your uneasiness, Kotaro starts whining, and you start rocking him. 

You are not stupid. Those men didn't care about you or your baby's safety. They wanted six eyes that they could control, nothing else, nothing more. You haven't given any proof that you are worthy of being married to Satoru.

You don't get to answer because the door behind you opens, and all eyes are directed to the man behind you. You don't even have to turn around, your sixth sense telling you: Satoru. And he is pissed. He takes a moment to analyze the room in front of him, seeing you in the middle with your son in his arms, crying. His son crying. Gojo walks in, no blindfold on, without asking for permission (not that anyone was waiting for one), and ignores everyone as he stops right before you.

His blue eyes scan you and Kotaro from the top of your head to the feet, concerned. 

"Are you okay? Is Kotaro okay?" Satoru asks in a gentle tone, ignoring anyone around. You nod, starting to form an apology, but he shakes his head, calming you. "There's nothing to apologize for. You did well. You always do well. Stand beside me, okay?"  

You nod as Satoru forms a shield between you and the higher-ups. Surprisingly, Kotaro has stopped whining, feeling his dad is close by. No one speaks, and everyone seems to be holding down their breaths.

"So," Satoru's tone is calm, "who cares to explain how my wife and son ended up here?"

No answer comes, and you can sense the fear over the room, which differs from your husband's posture. Those who don't know him might believe in Satoru's calm posture, but you and probably the rest of the elders knew this was only a façade. In Satoru's veins, there is only anger. The only reason any of those higher-ups are still alive is because of your and Kotaro's presence. Not because Satoru would hurt you or his son if he had to kill them, but because he didn't want to shock you or accidentally make you fear him. You had never seen him kill before.

You don't know yet what lengths he would go to protect you and his child.

"We were just worried about her well-being, that's all." Some brave higher-up answers and Gojo snickers.

"Oh? More worried than her husband then?"

"You know, we had to meet her eventually. You kept her away from our world, your world, for far too long."

"And she was fine until you brought her into this. My wife and my son are none of your concerns."

"Not if she births a child with six eyes. Then it is our concern." Your body tenses behind Gojo, immediately causing him to react back, his murderous energy filling the room. If you felt it, those elders felt it as well, silencing them.

Kotaro starts crying again, sensing the threatening energy in the room. You had never felt such a destructive sensation coming from your husband before, but you managed to grab Satoru's arm.

"'Toru? Kotaro is scared." And you are scared.

The energy instantly leaves, and Satoru turns around, worried. You tremble with fear, and Kotaro bawls, tears dropping from his eyes. He instantly places his black blindfold on his eyes before taking Kotaro from your arms and gently rocking him. 

"Can we leave, please?" You ask, and Satoru nods, grabbing your hand with his free one. Before turning around to leave, he announces in a frightening tone to the entire room, "If I ever hear any of you trying to make any sort of contact with my wife or son, I won't be so merciful."

With that, Gojo Satoru pulls you away from that horrible place you promised to never see again.

-x-

Satoru dismisses the driver who drove you there. Instead, he takes you to his car, finding Kiyotaka Ijichi with a nervous smile when he sees you. You manage to smile back, and Ijichi seems relieved that you and Kotaro are okay. The ride home is silent, and Satoru never lets go of your hand. Kotaro is in the other one, sleeping safely in his arms. You can't bear to look at your husband, too afraid of what you are about to see: disappointment? Anger? He would be right to feel like that. You endangered not only yourself but Kotaro in this whole situation.

After Ijichi leaves you at home, you gently take a sleepy Kotaro away from your husband's arms. Satoru had this enchantment with your son, making him feel calm and safe. Like mother like son, you guess. You place Kotaro gently on his mat, watching as he gets comfortable. How careless of you to put your son in such a dangerous situation.

"Do you want to talk about this?" Satoru whispers, and you shake your head.

"I am sorry." To Kotaro. To Satoru. To yourself. "I thought I could—"

Satoru slowly closes the proximity between you two. He waits, watching the tears flowing down your eyes, sitting at your side, and when you hide your face on his shoulders, his arms are around you, bringing you to his lap.

"You had no idea."

"I endangered our son! Do you know how serious that is?"

"You would never let them do anything to him."

"How would I even stop them, Satoru?"

"I don't know, but I know you. You would find a way." Satoru simply shrugs, which sounds to him like the most obvious answer, and you don't know if you laugh or cry or his hopes on you. "Which would involve bringing me there."

"Yes, bring my most dangerous weapon: Satoru Gojo." You two chuckle low so you don't wake up Kotaro.

"Nothing will ever happen to you or Kotaro. I won't allow it. Be sure of it."

"They said you have enemies…"

"Who wouldn't dare to lay a finger on one stray of Kotaro's hair. Or yours. Come on, you don't have some faith in me?"

Remembering the amount of energy you felt earlier, you feel a chill pass your body. "I do, 'Toru. I was crazy enough to marry you."

"And would you lose the chance to be the luckiest woman alive?"

"With the most pretentious husband ever." You roll your eyes, feeling happy inside. The earlier one may have scared you. But you know this Satoru, back to his usual pretentious self. 

You get more comfortable in Satoru's lap, your eyes never entirely leaving Kotaro. He looks so peaceful with his eyes closed like that; he is Satoru 100%, except for his eyes. What blame did he have? You vowed to protect and love him as soon as he came out of you, no matter what came after him. And by the looks on Satoru's face, he also does.

Slowly, you can feel your eyes getting heavy as you become more comfortable in Satoru's arms—like a mother, like son. 

"Rest, my love. I will take care of it all. I will never leave you, I promise."

[grison-in-space]

I'm genuinely sorry, I was really tired and couldn't think of the word that mad pride movements use. I'm new to all of this. I thought you would be more open to it because you've reblogged from radical leftists (anarchists and communists both) within the past couple of weeks and they're all for Veganism afaik. The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different. I'm not spamming people with it, but I was inspired by an ask by a nonvegan and started asking popular bloggers why they weren't vegan to open up conversation and potentially change people's views on animals. If I've made you uncomfortable I'm sorry, though I admit I'm really confused by your standpoint. You do know that the only reason communism hasn't succeeded is because of America? Anyway, sorry again, I'm also autistic and I didn't mean to dismiss your legitimate dietary needs. Can I recommend acti-vegan's posts? While I understand that you can't go vegan, perhaps their blog will at least help you understand our points, they're much more well-written than my asks and they have plenty of legitimate science resources at hand. Thanks for listening, I'll take your advice into account. I'm not trying to not listen, it's just frustrating because so many people say they get it but they don't change, and if they truly got it they would, you know?

Okay, I get that you didn't mean to be offensive, and fuck knows I shouldn't throw stones when it comes to forgetting specific words. (This happens to me fairly frequently; it's a thing.)

The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different.

So yesterday I actually wrote out and then deleted a whole paragraph to the effect of "part of my deep, deep frustration with animal rights activism hooks into my commitment to the phrase 'nothing about us without us,' because I frequently see the same kinds of emotional projection without making the effort to listen to animals on their own terms from animal rights activism groups."

The first thing I need to make clear to you is that this--veganism and animal rights activism (ARA) more generally--is not new to me. I am in my mid-thirties and I have never had a job of any kind that did not revolve around animals in some way, I've spent time in rescue spaces and vets and universities, I'm queer and I have spent most of my life in leftish progressive circles, so it's kind of hard to miss.

Essentially, you are proselytizing to me as if you were a newly baptized evangelical convinced I had never heard of Jesus, because if only I had heard and understood his holy word, I would be converted instantly to his light! It's not any less irritating when the belief system isn't explicitly a religion.

More under the cut, because this one is long.

Disclaimer one: Veganism isn't synonymous with ARA ideology, but it's deeply entangled with it, and ARA ideology drives the movement of veganism as a (theoretically non-religious) ethical decision. And I object very strongly to the framework imposed by ARA activists. When I say I am not vegan, I am saying that I have considered the ethical framework that underpins veganism as an ethics movement and I have deliberately rejected it.

The second piece of context you should know that when I talk about being a behavioral ecologist, I mean that I'm a researcher who works on animals and that my framework is rooted in trying to understand animals in their own natural ecological context, without necessarily comparing them to humans. There's a lot of ways to study animal behavior you might run into, including attempts to understand universal principles of behavior that transcend species (animal cognition) and attempts to understand how to better treat animals in human care (animal welfare). You know Temple Grandin? Temple Grandin is an ethologist (the field that gave rise to behavioral ecology, also focused on animals within their species context) who worked on animal welfare (finding ways to make slaughterhouses less stressful to livestock, among other things).

Third point: my profession also means is that I work directly with animals--in my case, currently mice--and that I do not think research with animal subjects is wrong as long as all efforts are made to ensure maximal welfare and enrichment for the animals involved. This is another major bone of contention politically between my entire field and ARA groups, and you should know that I have also spent my entire professional career under the shadow of, well, people who care strongly enough about those ideas to invade my workspace and potentially seize my animals and "free" them into a world they do not have the tools to survive in.

So there's where I am coming from. Let's get back to what you're saying. Here, I'll quote again in case you have the same crappy short-term memory I do.

The argument that all brains are different but equal and should be treated the exact same is a primary aspect of mad pride from my understanding, and that speaks to me about animals just having different brains, and that they don't deserve to be exploited and killed for us just because they're different.

Point the first: Even within humans, I don't think that all brains should be treated the exact same. Especially in a disability context! After all, what is an accommodation if not an agreement to treat someone differently because they need certain things to access a space? Accommodations by definition fly in the face of this "treating everyone the same" understanding of fairness. I think all (human) brains are equally valuable, and I think all brains are worthy of respect, but I do not think that it's wise or kind of me to assert that everyone should be treated in the same way. For one thing, I teach students. If there's one thing teaching has taught me, it's that a good teacher is constantly assessing and adjusting their instruction to meet students where they're at, identify failures of understanding, and keep the attention of the classroom.

Point the second: animals do have different brains from humans. That does not mean that animals are inferior, but it does mean that they are alien. There's a philosophy paper, Nagel, What Does It Mean to Be a Bat, that you might find illuminating on this front. Essentially, the point of the paper is that animals have their own experiences and sensory umwelts that differ profoundly enough from humans' that we cannot know what it is like to be a different species without experiencing life as one, and therefore we must be terribly careful not to project our own realities onto theirs. That is, our imagination cannot tell us what a bat values and what it experiences. That is why we have to use careful evidence to understand what an animal is thinking, without relying on our ability to identify with and comprehend that animal. I have watched ARA groups deliberately encourage people to shut their reasoning brains off and emotionally identify themselves with animals without considering within-species context for twenty years. This is a mainstream tactic. It is not an isolated event and for that reason alone I would be opposed to them.

Point the third: there is a definite tendency in lots of people to care deeply and intensely about both animals and people who are seen as "lesser" in status--children, poor people, disabled people, etc--just as long as those groups never contradict the good feelings that come from the helper's own assessment of themselves and their actions. In humans, when the "needy" point out that some forms of help are actually harmful, the backlash is often swift and vicious. This is why animals are such an appealing target of support and intervention. They can't speak back and say "in fact, you are projecting my love of this frilly pink tutu onto me, and I think it's uncomfortable and prevents me from walking." They can't say "I kind of like it better when I don't have to worry about getting hit by a car, actually?"

(By the way: this is also why it's offensive to compare disabled people to animals, because this is generally done at least in part to silence the voices of disabled people speaking for our selves and our communities. We have access to language, and we use it, thank you.)

All forms of animal welfare intervention going right back to the founding of the first RSPCA have been incredibly prone to being hijacked by classist, racist, and otherwise bigoted impulses. This is because animals offer an innocent face for defense that conveniently cannot criticize the actions taken by their champions, and they therefore provide a great excuse for actions taken against marginalized members of human society. Think about the very first campaign the RSPCA ever did, which was banning using dogs as draft animals: a use that is not inherently harmful to dogs, which many dogs actively enjoy, but also one that was specifically used by poor Londoners and which in fact immediately resulted in a great butchery of the dogs that Londoners could no longer afford to feed rather than allowing poor people and their dogs to continue working together. No one was, of course, challenging the particular uses of dogs or any other animal favored by the wealthy. This kind of thing is so, so, so common. Obviously it doesn't mean that all interventions to prioritize animal welfare are inherently bigoted, but it does mean that we have to be critical about our choice of challenges.

On top of everything, the animal rights activist movement's obsession with "exploitation" is a function of the idea that humans are sinful or otherwise Bad in how we interact with animals by definition. For example, take the chicken rescue near me that is so obsessed with the possibility that some human somewhere might benefit from an animal in their care that they implant every hen they adopt out with hormonal implants such that the hens no longer lay eggs--a function that is normally a natural byproduct of a chicken's reproductive system, fertilized or not. A mutualistic relationship involves both parties benefiting, and that is the case for an awful lot of human relationships with animals. In general, the idea that associating with animals is a thing that can only harm animals rather than being a trade between two species to enrich one another is all over these groups. It's just so myopically focused on human shame that it prevents practical interventions that might benefit everyone, and often promotes interventions that don't directly benefit animals but sure do make humans miserable. For example, this kind of thinking is why groups like PETA are absolutely awful at effectively rescuing unwanted dogs and cats: they think pets living in "bondage" with humans are an essentially sad outcome, rather than one that might be mutually enjoyed by all parties.

I'm tired and my meds haven't kicked in, so I'm not currently going to handle the communism thing except to point out that while the US absolutely did destabilize a number of leftist regimes in South America and Africa, Russia and China between them have certainly not treated their own people kindly, either (and more so their own client-nations, as with the former members of the USSR). Please do some reading about the Holodomor and Lysenko in Russia (and frankly all of the details of Stalin's regime) and the Cultural Revolution in China in particular. Khmer Rouge might be worth looking into, too. I am not saying the US's hands are clean, you understand, because they are not; they're as steeped in red as anyone else's. What I am saying is that for people living on the ground, communist revolutions have this nasty habit of turning into bloodbaths and arbitrary slaughters. Do not let your distaste for the US's bloodsoaked imperialism (which, yes, is and was bad) let you fall into the trap of becoming a tankie.

And if you don't know what a tankie is, you really, really should take some time to learn.

[cheriladycl01]

Feel the Heat - Grid x F Driver! Reader

Plot: All the moments that Y/N has just absolutely lost her shit.

Warnings: Lots of swearing, mentions of sexism (undertones) which I do not condone at all, its just for the plot and what i see some celebrities are burdened with in the limelight.

Credit to martha-dobie for the GIF

Moment 1:

"So Y/N how do you feel about the 10 second time penalty?" Martin asks you in the post race interview. You were now starting P20 in the race tomorrow and it wasn't even your fault.

"Yeah superb the FIA did a really good job determining who was at fault!" you grit out with a strained smile on your face.

"Oh really? Because your team seem to be arguing against the decision as we speak, they've been very vocal about it"

"Yeah it was sarcastic of course I'm not happy, any other driver who did that would have been let off... but I don't? My team have clips of Hamilton, Ricciardo, Leclerc, Stroll, Gasly and Norris all doing it and getting away with it. So why not me?" you ask before storming off. You didn't want to do media anymore and your PR manager could tell.

"Y/N we are trying to get that penalty lifted so that you start P4 tomorrow. I don't know what else to say, the team are trying" she says rubbing your shoulders, but the scowl on your face says otherwise.

"It's not fucking right though Cathy!" you exclaim kicking the side of the Red Bull hospitality wall.

"I know, i know. And they are working on it!" she exclaims trying to calm you down.

"They wont change their decision now though, the other teams will get pissed that they've gone back on their word..." you seethe.

"Fucks sake" you scream.

"I'm going" you grunt out, before storming through the AlphaTauri garage and grab your bag that you'd brought to the track. Everyone could see how hacked off you were, even once you put the sunglasses on and your team cap to cover the look currently on your face.

"Y/N are you okay?" Yuki your team mate asks, as he too exists the paddock behind you. You tried to ignore him, not wanting to turn round and snap at one of the most genuine and sweetest people here.

"Okay, you don't want to talk and that's fine, but please let me drive. Angry Y/N is scary driving" he advises, trying to beeline ahead of you so that he could get to the drivers door before you.

"Sorry Yuki, yeah you should drive" you manage to get out slowing down your own pace so that the poor male didn't have to run so he was ahead of you.

Aftermath:

You proceeded to not have the time penalty knocked, and you started the race in P20, however you managed to climb all the way up to P5 in a victorious come back race.

Your team were celebrating the come back and you were beyond happy in the interviews.

Moment 2:

"Y/N over here! Can you sign this?" another voice shouts at you, you were in the airport and your manager said that he would be there for you and your girlfriend when you got off the plane with security.

However no-one was there to collect you apart from fans who somehow worked out what flight you were on.

Slowly more and more people were flooding around you both and your girlfriend. Your girlfriend was a smaller streamer and therefore wasn't used to the Paparazzi.

"Guys can we back up a little, just to keep us all safe" you tried being nice to get the fans to back up a little further to make sure your girlfriend was safe.

However, as you went round with the sharpie, more and more people were pushing and you were so out of it from the pushing and pulling, the cameras in your face and things being thrusted at you that the tight grip that was once on your forearm was gone.

"Emma?" you shouted your girlfriends name, now noticing you couldn't see her.

"Emma!" you shouted in an angrier tone, people still not backing up and giving you space.

"Right, I've tried to be nice, everyone please leave. NOW!" you say sternly, and for the first time not only the fans but airport staff notice the commotion and security help you out of the circled crowd around you.

You immediately went to twitter.

'Please, if you are a fan and you see a celebrity in a public space with no security... DONT bring attention to them and DONT mob them. That was the scariest moment of my life in Heathrow Airport just now. Have some fucking respect for your idols'

You shut your phone off, your face still angry most definitely being caught by the paps. They also caught as you ran up to your girlfriend pulling her into a hug, checking over her making sure she's okay, before your hands travel up to her cheek and pull her into a kiss.

"I'm so sorry baby" you apologize as soft tears start to fall down her face.

Aftermath:

Your girlfriend had ended up breaking up with you the week after the race, the pressure of everything getting to her. You cried to Charles and Pierre for an entire weekend as your 3 year long relationship had just come to a close because of your fans not having respect for personal space and boundaries.

You were fuming and had written many tweets and Instagram story's explaining why you guys broke up and how utterly heartbroken you were, however you wanted Emma to be happy and that this is what was for the best.

For months, you were cold and off with any media duties and PR had to tell every interviewer not to bring the breakup up in the questions or they'd cut the interview.

Moment 3:

"Well, Lando... you've been here for six years now and you still haven't got your first win yet... do you feel like your going to be the next Nico Hulkenberg or Kevin Magnussen?" An interviewer asks looking down at his notepad.

"Erm" Lando says unsurely looking down.

"What the actual fuck" you spit, looking at the interviewer that asked him.

"Y/N you have input on this matter?"

"Go fuck yourself. Get yourself in a F1 car and see if you can even fucking start it. Lando has worked hard for what he has achieved so far, in and no hate to Mclaren, but a midfield car. How dare you sit there and ask him that question. Kevin and Nico have also worked hard for where they are, even just being in F1 is a phenomenal achievement considering there are only 20 seats in the world. So to answer your question, no Lando is Lando Norris and that's fucking iconic enough as it is, with or without a win. Have a good fucking rest of the panel" you rant, before standing up with so much force that your seat goes crashing back, a bang sounding throughout the room making the interviewer flinch.

Aftermath:

Everyone actually sat there for a minute reviewing how you'd just stormed out of media duties and slammed the interviewer six feet under.

"So Y/N no longer will be participating into todays panel. So Martin i believe you had a question for Lewis?" the director advised but the rest of the vibes for the interview weren't there as everyone agreed with your previous statements.

Moment 4:

"Y/N are you okay?" your race engineer asks.

"FUCK! FUCKS SAKE. WHAT A PRICK" you screech.

"Copy that. But are you okay?" they asks once again.

"No I'm not fucking okay. Tell Leclerc when i see him, I'm going to shove his wheel so far into his mouth " *cut off*

"Did you guys just fucking mute me?" you scream, but after not hearing anything you jump out the car handing the wheel to one of the pit teams that had come out to collect your battered car.

You kicked at the gravel, yelling at one of the crew asking if they saw how Leclerc had literally gone into you and used you as his crash barrier, yet he was still able to the continue the race pitting for minor wing damage.

Aftermath:

You had yelled at Charles after the race, who completely admitted to you that he was at fault and he was sorry to be the cause of your DNF. He went on to say in the interviews that he was sorry to you that he'd caused such a collision.

Moment 5:

"WOMEN SHOULDNT BE IN MOTORSPORT" you hear from the stand behind you as your signing a little boys hat that he had offered you asking for a picture and a signature.

However, something metallic not only hit you but hit the little boy that was stood to your left. He immediately raised his hand to his head, holding the bit that the can had hit before bursting into tears.

In a moment of shock you spin round looking for the men that had thrown the empty beer cans at you through the fencing.

"Oiii you two get the fuck down here now!" you point at the two laughing gents, who still at being called out.

"Don't ever pull shit like that again or I'll get you permanently banned from every sporting event you could possibly attend" you say looking up at them. They looked at you in shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry if its not the consequences of your actions ..." you laugh.

"But ..."

"No, you hurt a little boy! And me... So I'll be letting bar staff know to no longer serve you" you say before turning away and talking to security.

They ended up finding the little boy and his father. You came up to them with a gift bag each and upgraded paddock passes. They hugged you thanking you for the opportunity and saying it was too much.

You made sure the little boy was okay, carrying him on your hip touring him through the paddock, introducing him and his dad to the other drivers and then showing him around the garage. You let him sit in your car while you took a picture of him and his dad. A mechanic then took a picture of the three of you.

Aftermath:

The media went crazy seeing you stick up for the little boy and his day around the paddock with you. People knew you were sweet despite how short tempered you could be and these interactions proved it.

The little boy and his father ended up actually becoming closer friends of yours and would often be seen in the paddock or when they had general tickets people would wave as they recognized them.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz

[sanctus-ingenium]

we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

[maxtermind]

Imagine that the reader, Charles, Lando and Carlos randomly get the idea to go to Costco and try some viral food they saw on TikTok so when they go to buy the product, Charles grabs a separate cart and when the guys ask him why if they are only going to buy one thing, he says that the reader always ends up buying too many things and then has nowhere to put them so Charles is used to carrying an extra cart because he knows his girlfriend is a compulsive shopper.

retail therapy

★ : feat :: charles leclerc x reader ★ : genre :: fluff; crack ★ : word count :: 1.4k ★ : a/n :: i've had this in my drafts for so long. i'm so sorry love, i unfortunately suck and forget to schedule the post. thanks for the fun request <33

You found yourself in the expansive parking lot of a large store on an otherwise ordinary Saturday afternoon, accompanied by Charles, Lando, and Carlos.

The mission? To grab the viral food product that TikTok had unanimously declared a must-try: Shin Ramyun. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out operation, but Charles had other plans.

”Why'd you grab an extra cart?” Lando asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion as Charles nonchalantly pushed the second cart alongside his own.

”We're only buying one thing,” Carlos chimed in, clearly perplexed.

Charles sighed dramatically, casting a knowing glance at you, who were busily scrolling through your phone to find the exact aisle where the magical ramen resided.

”You guys don't understand,” Charles began, shaking his head as if explaining a basic concept to toddlers before whispering so you wouldn’t catch it. ”Y/N always ends up buying too many things. It's like she has a radar for… unnecessary purchases.”

”Hey!” you protested, looking up from your phone. ”They're not unnecessary. They're uh- useful in unexpected ways!”

”Like the 50-pound bag of gummy bears?” Charles retorted, smirking when he saw your eyes widen. ”Or the industrial-sized jar of pickles you bought last time?”

”They were on sale,” you defended, crossing your arms. ”And you love pickles.”

”I love them in moderation, not in bulk.”

”You take that back, mister!”

Lando and Carlos exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

”So, what's the plan?” Lando asked, eager to get the show on the road.

”Simple,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. ”We go in, get the Shin Ramyun, and maybe... just maybe... see if there are any good deals.”

Charles rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. ”And this,” he said, gesturing to the extra cart, ”is why we can't have nice, quick shopping trips.”

You entered the store, greeted by the overwhelming scent of bulk goods and free samples. You navigated through the aisles, Charles dutifully pushing one carts, while Lando and Carlos alternatively pushed the other.

”Okay, the Shin Ramyun should be in aisle 12,” you announced, leading the way. ”But we should definitely check out the electronics section first. You never know when there's a sale.”

”We're here for food,” Charles reminded you, though his tone was more resigned than stern.

”And electronics,” you added cheerfully. ”Come on, it's right this way.”

Lando nudged Carlos, whispering, ”Ten bucks says our bill will be over two grand.”

”Mate, talk around five and you're on,” Carlos replied with a grin.

Sure enough, as you wandered through the electronics section, your eyes lit up at the sight of a massive flat-screen TV on sale.

”Look at this deal!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. ”We could totally use a new TV.”

The boys behind you just shook their heads and to appease them, you slowly started, ”I’m just saying that the bonus I got last week has got to—”

”You guys have a TV,” Lando snickered.

”Yes, but not this TV,” you said, gesturing dramatically. ”Think about movie nights! Think about the sports games! Think about—”

”Think about where we're going to put it,” Charles interrupted, though he was already losing the battle. The allure of a good deal was strong, even for him. You could see it in his eyes that he was already almost convinced.

”Fine,” you huffed anyway, moving along. ”But we're coming back for it if we have room.”

Lando and Carlos exchanged looks, trying to stifle their laughter.

”You guys are a mess,” Carlos said, shaking his head. ”This is better than Netflix.”

”Just wait until we hit the snack aisle,” Lando added, trying to be discreet but you caught it. ”That's when things get really interesting.” He just gave you a nervous cheeky smile in return as you glared.

As you made your way to aisle 12, you inevitably got distracted by various items along the way. A giant jar of Nutella? In the cart. A set of high-end kitchen knives? In the cart. A year's supply of toilet paper? In the cart.

Charles dutifully followed, pushing the now significantly heavier cart with an air of resigned amusement. ”See?” he said to Lando and Carlos. ”This is why I grabbed an extra cart.”

Finally, you reached the aisle with the viral TikTok food product. There it was, Shin Ramyun, in all its spicy glory, stacked high and tempting.

”Here it is!” you said triumphantly, grabbing several boxes and adding them to the cart. ”Mission accomplished.”

”Can we leave now?” Charles asked, though he already knew the answer.

”Not yet,” you replied, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. ”We need to check out the outdoor section. Summer's coming, and we could use some new patio furniture.”

Charles groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. He knew this was just how your trips to the store went. Besides, there was something endearing about your enthusiasm for finding deals and stocking up on... well, everything.

As you wandered through the outdoor section, Lando and Carlos tried out various patio chairs and loungers, providing a running commentary that kept everyone entertained. You found a particularly nice set that you insisted would look perfect in your backyard.

”Think of all the barbecues we could have,” you said, looking at Charles with pleading eyes.

Charles sighed, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ”Fine, but this is the last thing. I mean it.”

”Promise,” you said, kissing him lightly while your friends fake gagged in the background.

You made your way to the checkout, carts overflowing with all manner of items. The staff recognized the boys and immediately started asking for photos and signatures as you guys waited for your turn.

That’s when Charles moved around and squeezed,”Gotta run to the toilet, I’ll be back in two?” He leaned down to whisper.

You shrugged and nodded your head, instead discussing Lando's new apartment with him. Failing to notice how Carlos was nowhere in sight either.

The cashier raised an eyebrow but didn't comment as she rang up the seemingly endless stream of products.

She was on the last few products when you heard Lando sigh under his breath and as you turned around, you saw Charles and Carlos carrying the box of the TV that you were eyeing.

Your own eyes widened as you jumped up and down and screamed,”No way, I love you!” Charles just snorted as skipped towards him.

He set the TV down and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. ”I couldn't resist,” he admitted, his voice soft. ”Your excitement is contagious.”

You beamed up at him, feeling the love and warmth in his embrace. ”You always know how to make me feel loved.”

Charles kissed your forehead, his eyes twinkling. ”Cmon, babe. It’s like breathing for me now”

Lando and Carlos approached, carrying the last few bags and boxes. ”You two are adorable,” Lando teased, nudging Carlos. ”A bit nauseating, but adorable.”

As you left the store, pushing your heavily-laden carts towards the car, Lando and Carlos couldn't help but laugh.

”I owe you ten bucks,” Lando said, nudging Carlos.

Charles wrapping an arm around you. ”What do you think we can do with our old TV?” You smirked before looking over at Lando and Carlos who were loading the car.

”You know the way Lando bought a new apartmen—” Your boyfriend threw his head back and laughed before you could even finish.

”God, baby, I love you! Compulsive shopping and all.”

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. ”And I love that you always bring an extra cart. Just in case.”

”So, what's the first thing we do with all this stuff?” Carlos asked, squeezing the last box into the trunk.

”Easy,” you said with a grin. ”We head home and have a fun game session with some Shin Ramyun and a movie on our new TV.”

Lando snickered. ”Sounds like the perfect end to a perfect shopping spree.”

”And if anyone asks,” Charles added with a wink, ”this was all part of the therapy. Sometimes, a little retail indulgence is just what the doctor ordered.”

”Retail therapy,” you said, snuggling into Charles as you drove off. ”It's cheaper than real therapy. Sometimes.”

Charles laughed, kissing the top of your head. ”And way more fun.”

(grid masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[astolfofo]

…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.

hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.

tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.

Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind

also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.

There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.

The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.

Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.

You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.

But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.

You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.

And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.

After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.

You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.

The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.

To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.

And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.

You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.

-

out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.

It certainly wasn't you.

Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.

You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.

Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.

You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.

All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.

You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.

But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.

It drove you to madness.

If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.

From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.

You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.

There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.

They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.

"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"

It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.

He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.

"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."

You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.

You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.

Look at where it got you.

[atinystraynstay]

Pretty Boy Rock - Yoon Jeonghan

Synopsis: Every girl in your office swooned over Yoon Jeonghan besides you. Yet, Jeonghan always liked a challenge.

Pairing: Colleague!Yoon Jeonghan x fem. reader

Genre: "I won't fall for you because everyone else does" girl meets the "I get whoever I want" boy

Inspired by @aaniag - thanks for tagging me in this post ♡ this is only the second one so we still have a long way to go!

First Encounters Mini Series: #1: #2: #3: #4: Wonwoo #5: Jeonghan #6: #7: #8: Dino

Word Count: 2k

Friday afternoon, 12:25pm

"Did you see what Jeonghan is wearing today?" "Girl, how could I not notice? My attention was all over his slacks." "The front or the back?"

Oh god. Give me a fucking break.

If there was one thing you hated, it was gossip around the office. Especially when it came in the form of girls basically drooling over one of your colleagues, Yoon Jeonghan. And of all places, they decided to take their little thirst fest into the break room.

"You know, there is something that I noticed," you said, popping into the conversation.

Immediately, heads snapped towards your direction. You were a bit taken back by the abrupt movement, fearing that their own heads would fall off. Either because they didn't realize you were in the room or they were interested in what you out of all people had to say. You were one of the few survivors of the trance Jeonghan seemed to place over your female colleagues. And if you had something to say regarding the matter, they surely were interested.

You couldn't help but smile slightly as you set down your silverware. The element of surprise had to be on your side here. You just had come in to enjoy your salad, but why not enjoy a show?

All the women leaned in, anticipating for what you might have to say. Your eyes glanced from side to side, as if you were scooping the scene to make sure there were no unwanted listeners. Getting the hint, the women leaned further in to hear the secret you were about to spill.

Time to go in the for the kill. In the loudest voice you could possible muster, you said the following:

"The way you talk about Jeonghan is quite disgusting. You hate when the men in the office talk about your skirts or how tight your blouses, but here you are drooling over Jeonghan in just a pair of pants? Pathetic. Close your mouths, ladies, or you might flood the office."

The small group gasped at you, eyes glaring at you but also glancing around to make sure nobody had looked in their direction. Their faces red in embarrassment as you smirked triumphantly.

Being the polite person you are, you bowed your head gently to pardon yourself. Gathering all the trash from your lunch, you threw it away and was about to make your exit.

"You're just upset that you're not Jeonghan's type," one of the woman muttered.

You couldn't help but laugh at their claim. You turned towards the group who seemed to be mustering all the courage they could to stand up to you. At the same time, you raised an eyebrow and had your hands on your hips. Do they really think their words will hurt you?

"Oh no! What will I ever do?" You said dramatically. "At least I don't live in some delusion where me and my friends are all after the same guy? I mean, he can only pick one of you. Or worse, he picks none of you."

Their eyes widened and mouths dropped at your words. Don't mess with the bull or you might get the horns. They seemed to be trying to come up with another comeback, but all you could do was walk away. Not worth wasting your breath on them.

You began to make your way back to your cubicle. You still had a few reports you needed to get done with before you could close out for the weekend. It wasn't that you hated your job. If anything, you kind of liked the routine it put you in. You even were beginning to be handed more responsibilities like leading presentations and joining brainstorming sessions for different marketing campaigns.

You definitely didn't have the time to be oogling over the looks of Yoon Jeonghan.

As you settled back at your dress, you let out a sigh. As invested as you were in the work you were doing, you couldn't help but feel as if time was dragging now that it was towards the later part of the day. Just 3 more hours.

"Well look who it is," a voice called out.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose a bit. You recognized that voice anywhere. Your attention was locked on the computer monitor in front of you, thinking that if you ignore the interruption it would just go away naturally. That was until you felt like something was looming over.

With a narrow gaze, you looked up to see the devil himself - Yoon Jeonghan. His arms rested against the top of your cubicle wall. You realy thought you had been silent enough to get back to work without alerting the beast. But by judging by the smirk curled on his lips, you knew he had been waiting for you. The black tie was loose around his neck with the sleeves of his white button up were rolled up to his forearms.

"Missed you, darling." "What can I do to help you, Mr. Yoon?" You did your best to keep a montone voice.

You didn't want to give any sort of impression you could be into what is happening.

"Mr. Yoon? What is with the formalies, y/n?" He gasped. "Well, I'm here to do my job and not entertain whatever this is," you explained.

"Is it actually that harmful for a man to be friendly?" "But what's the catch?" "Go out with me."

Your eyes widened and you nearly laughed. He frowned at your reaction but still stood his ground. There was no need to give any indicator that his ego had deflated a bit. He was not used to someone being so upfront with their rejection, normally accustomed to a shy "I don't know." But you were different. There was a reason he did this little waltz with you.

You and Jeonghan have been working together since you joined the company last year. He was technically someone in your department that could have been a mentor, but you were quickly swayed away by his flirtatious manner. Seeing that you were not dropping on your knees, begging for his attention, Jeonghan saw the challenge and knew he could beat it. There was a way to get into your heart, no matter how icy and impenetrable you wanted to come across.

He would crack the code, one way or another.

"I don't think it's a joke, doll. We're two attractive people. Come on. One meal couldn't hurt you." "Jeonghan, being in the same room as you is sometimes insufferable. How do I even know you don't want to go out with me because someone else was busy, hmm? I mean, weren't you just coupled up with the receptionist?" "Couldn't be fit into her Google Calendar."

You rolled your eyes at his response before dropping your gaze back down to your computer. You pretended to be typing away at one of the numerous documents you had pulled open, hoping it was enough for Jeonghan to get the hint.

However, he could tell you weren't budging quite yet. He also picked up on your little act as your screen was completely black. The brightness from the screen wasn't reflecting onto your face whatsoever. Still, he found you absolutely adorable.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. This is unprofessional of me, y/n. I'll leave you be."

Fucking finally.

Monday morning, 8:59am

Ding

Your heels clicked along the tile flooring of your office. It poured during your commute into work, which caused you to be stuck behind more traffic than usual. You didn't always mind, but it just put you in a foul mood. Especially since you had to sacrifice your Monday morning coffee run. It was ritual for you, and now the whole week felt like it was just off balance.

"Woah y/n. Your bad mood seems to have brought the bad weather," a voice called out to you.

Your gaze narrowed in the direction the voice came from. Your hair was slightly damped as you had to run into the front of the building from your parking spot because of course you didn't think it was going to run and didn't bring an umbrella with you.

Looking over, you noticed it was one of the girls from the break room on Friday. You rolled your eyes to refrain yourself from sticking up your middle finger. You just offered a polite smile before marching to your desk. As you moved, you heard her and her friends giggling at you. This is why you despised any sort of office relationship.

"Hey, y/n. You okay?" Jeonghan called out.

You were about to enter your cubicle when you saw Jeonghan overlooking your cubicle again. Your jacket rested on the back of your chair. it would be a miracle if it dried at all before the end of the day. You were also grateful you had a pair of flats you could change into in attempt to save your soaked shoes too. Plus, it as a good excuse to slip out of heels. You didn't mind wearing them but always valued comfort over appearance.

"Yeah," you murmured.

Usually, you would expect a snide comment from Jeonghan. Or a flirty attempt in righting the situation. But there was nothing. It cause you to freeze and look up to see what was going on. Jeonghan was only staring at you with almost a friendly smile on his face. Not a smirk but a smile.

You wanted to question it, but as you were calming down from your hectic morning, something else caught your attention. An iced coffee was sitting on your desk with a winky face on it. What the fuck?

You opened your mouth to question it but looked at Jeonghan instead. In response, he winked at you before slipping behind the wall that divided the two of you.

Standing there, you felt something unusual throughout your body. You felt warm and tingly, especially in your stomach. Your heart was doing somersaults. It was comparable to in cartoons when the heart leaps out of the character's chest. You stared at the coffee, specifically at the marker drawn winky face staring back at you.

Jeonghan did this? For me?

Your eyes couldn't help but wonder to see if this was a prank or if there was a hidden camera. Jeonghan still wasn't lurking in his usual spot. You also noticed that nobody else had an iced coffee on their desk awaiting for them. A blush overtook your cheeks, but you quickly sat down before anyone noticed.

Reaching forward, you moved the plastic container towards you to see it was from the local coffee shop you frequent. It was the place you went every Monday morning, the place you had to skip out on today or else you would be late. But what struck you was that he got your exact order.

Your blush intensified. You kept your head ducked as you took a sip out of the delicious drink. There was no denying the smile on your face wasn't just because of the coffee but because of Yoon Jeonghan.

And on the other side of the wall, Jeonghan was smirking to himself. He got his computer turned on before going to make himself a cup of coffee from the break room. He didn't often frequent coffee shops as they often didn't have decaf coffee. When he walked into the place around the corner from your office building, he asked the woman behind the corner if you had been in yet. Saying no and noting how odd it was, Jeonghan seized the opportuntiy. He asked for your usual order and requested a winky face drawn on it.

"Are you her boyfriend? She's mentioned there's a guy she's interested in at her place of work."

That's all the encouragement Jeonghan needed to go through with his plan. He shook his head but smiled at the barista. "No, not yet. I'm hoping this catches her attention."

And by the looks of your blushing face, he was close to winning you over. He always gets what he wants, and he certainly had his eyes locked on you.

[savannahsdeath]

hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it

i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!

BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught

writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔

You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.

Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?

But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.

Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'

You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...

You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.

'She probably has a shitty personality.'

That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.

After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.

Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?

It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?

But what if he did? What if he found out?

Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.

But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.

More and more.

And she gave you more.

A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.

It was really your own fault.

This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.

You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.

Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"

The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.

You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.

Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.

"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.

You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.

"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."

She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.

She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.

"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.

You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.

"I'm back!" Your brother announced.

You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.

The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'

Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.

"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.

He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"

And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'

"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.

He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"

The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.

"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."

[wndrhyuka]

after the exam.

the first part. sfw suggestive. prof!mingyu. not proofread. wc 2.7k

good evening, y/n,

midterm grades were just posted, which i hope you've had the chance to look at. much to my surprise, it did not go well. the class average was just that. average. but your score in particular was lower than i had expected.

as you know, my office hours run from 3-4pm on MWF. we can review any material that might’ve challenged you. i’ll have a copy of the exam on hand if and when you come by.

i’d like to see you succeed in this course before the semester ends, and to better prepare you for any courses to follow this one.

best,

kim mingyu.

"fuck." you sighed aloud to yourself. checking your emails before going to sleep was now a decision you had come to regret.

you sat on your uncomfortable bed in your dorm, legs crossed with your laptop on your thighs. blindingly bright screen displaying text that twisted your stomach. you supposed you deserved this.

before the exam, you promised your professor that you'd "definitely" see him in his office. you mostly said so because you felt confronted, but looking back, you weren't sure why you did that.

no one's office hours worked your your schedule. your mornings throughout the week were filled with back to back lectures and the second you were done with class, you were on the bus to your part-time job at a coffee shop near your university.

you remember chan offering to study with you when you gave him your number, but you figured he also had other exams to cram for and you didn't want to get in the way.

so you studied on your own. youtube videos, practice tests, worksheets, the textbook, your notes, and your returned homework. every single symbol and number seemed to mush together on your paper.

you had seen your score when it was posted, and with all that effort, you earned yourself a 48/100. that score might've made sense if you said fuck it and chose not to try on the exam, but that wasn't what you were trying for at all, and this email in your lap told you that your professor caught onto that too.

you didn't have the guts to respond to him. it reeked of disappointment and you couldn't bear to acknowledge that. you shut your laptop and put it on your desk before going to bed.

the next morning you stood outside your calc lecture, waiting for the students inside to finish up.

"hey," you hear someone approach you. it was chan. he stands beside you against the wall of the corridor.

"hey." you can't help the smile that grows on your lips.

"so... did you check your score for the midterm?"

your shoulders drop and you roll your eyes, "wish i didn't."

"i probably got a lower score than you." he replies.

"what'd you get?" your voice reeked of doubt.

"64."

you scoff and turn away from him, arms crossed against your chest, "you're such an ass."

"what?!" he laughs, leaning closer to you when you move away, "there's no way you got less than me. i couldn't answer half of those questions."

"keep rubbing it in, chan. it feels great," you can't help but laugh at your failure, though laughing about it did cheer you up, especially with chan.

"you gonna tell me your score?" chan continues to tease you as students flood the hallways, leaving their lectures.

"never." you wince and hide your face in your hands.

"oh, come onnn. i wanna know." he nudges your shoulder with his.

you shake your head behind your hands, hiding your giddy smile and feeling the heat emitting from your cheeks on your palms. probably from the embarrassment, or maybe because you liked chan.

"class is starting, you two." you hear a stern voice ahead of you.

dropping your hands, you lift your head to see who it was.

your professor. he eyes you both through his glasses, holding his bag in hand before entering the classroom and letting the door close behind him.

when the door shuts, you're left in the silence of the now empty hallway rendered speechless as you and chan turned to each other, sharing confused expressions.

looking back through the slim window of the door, you could see your professor setting his bag down on the desk in the corner, pulling out a stack of papers.

you sigh, somehow feeling defeated. "did we do something wrong?" you whisper to chan. the first time you'd been scolded was understandable, but you weren't sure you deserved his abruptness this time.

chan looks at his phone and checks the time. "we still have 5 minutes 'til he's supposed to start class." he scoffs as puts his phone back in his pocket, "c'mon."

he walks forward and opens the door to the class. you head inside, walking between the rows of students to find your usual seat. chan takes a seat next to you while you unpack.

"morning, everyone." mingyu speaks at the front of the class, “i posted the grades to your midterm yesterday afternoon. if you haven't seen them yet, you can look in your online gradebook." moody groans and whispers cast a blanket over the students as he makes his way toward his desk, picking up a large stack of papers.

"i'll pass them back now." he begins walking around the class, calling out names, finding the student, then returning their test. “i made some notes on your work. please read them. it might help you understand any mistakes you made.”

"chan." he calls. chan raises his hand.

when he places the exam on chan's desk, you peek over at it. as expected, "64/100" was written largely in red pen on the first page. chan scooted it over to you, allowing you to look at it.

your lips straightened into a line as you picked it up, already feeling dissatisfied with yourself. you flipped through the pages to find the questions you knew you got wrong. when you analyzed his work, it all made sense. he made it seem so much simpler than you thought it was.

"y/n." you hear you professor call from behind you. turning around in your chair, you raise your hand and see him make his way over.

as he drew nearer, you felt your heart beating faster in your chest. maybe you were anxious because you stood him up last week. or maybe it was because he had been curt with you and chan. even if neither were the case, there was still one fundamental cause for your unease. you found him incredibly attractive.

he looms over your left shoulder and sets your exam down, large build positioned behind you so closely that you felt the heat of his body on your back. the warm and woodsy scent of him filling your nose and threatening an upward curl at the corner of your lips. you bite down on them and attempt to shake your head out of the gutter while focusing on your breathing.

after handing back your exam, he bends down from his upright stance, "see me after class, please."

your breathing comes to an abrupt stop as the pressure of your teeth in your bottom lip increases tenfold. his voice was smooth as velvet. speaking just above a whisper, you felt chills run down your spine as his words reached your ears. the aroma falling from him wouldn’t help either. his cologne was intoxicating at this proximity. it made you dizzy, and you felt your eyelids become heavy for a moment.

before you can even exhale to respond, he walks away and returns to the front of the class. you turn toward chan to see if he caught that, but he was sitting with eyes glued to his phone in his lap. you thought about telling him what happened until you were interrupted.

"alright. let's get started." his voice commands the attention of the room. chan puts his phone away.

you look toward your professor who begins writing on the board. everyone around you picks up their pencils and begins taking note of his work, but you were frozen.

your mind was occupied. you were looking at the board but nothing was registering. focusing on the lesson seemed impossible after hearing his voice in your ear like that. you felt terrified, flustered, and some third emotion that you couldn't quite name, though it seemed to be the strongest.

the hour long lecture carries out, and you couldn't concentrate for one second. chan noticed your pencil clutched in your hand, but the page of your notebook empty.

"y/n," he whispers.

you jolt, waking from your trance, and face him.

"are you okay?" he quietly asks.

you smile and nod, chuckling awkwardly before slowly turning your head down towards your notebook. you rest the tip of your pencil against your notebook, but write nothing as your subconscious resumed its hold on you.

you sat there for the remainder of the period with your back straight, but your eyes slightly downward towards your notebook, more than distracted with several thoughts running through your head.

what would he say? would he shame your score? would he confront you about standing him up? did he ask anyone else to stay back? would he be passive aggressive like he had been with you and chan? the questions clouded every corner of your brain.

you were awoken again by the sudden rustling of papers and backpacks zipping around you, including chan's.

"y/n, are you sure you're okay?" he asks again, "you didn't write anything down."

"oh, yeah. i just..." you stare blankly at him. he stares back with concern in his brow. "i didn't feel like it today, i guess." you blurt.

"alright," he stands and swings his bag around his shoulder, "i have to head to my next class, but i'll see you here monday?"

"yeah!" you beam, trying not to cause worry.

"later," he smiles. adjusting his bag, he then makes his way to the door.

"wait, chan!" you exclaim.

he stops and turns around quickly with a quirked brow.

"could you, um, send me a picture of your notes, please?" you ask sheepishly.

he giggles, "sure thing. i'll text you tonight." he says with a cheeky smile before leaving.

after he's gone, you sigh deeply. looking around, you notice everyone had left the class. your professor remained at the board, erasing the board clean.

you put your things away and pick up your bag, cautiously walking up to him.

as you moved closer, you could spot what your eyes always used to fall on. his body. the muscles that never failed to peek through the cotton button ups he wore. biceps flexed while he swiped the eraser across the board. back muscles engaged as the words on the board disappeared.

"y/n." he utters, still facing the board.

your eyes widen, realizing you'd been standing behind him silently for a bit. he puts the eraser down, board now clear.

"thanks for seeing me." he looks downward to meet your gaze. "i just have a few things to ask you." he walks over to his desk to lean against it, looking all too familiar to the last time you were stuck with him after lecture.

you don't move in closer, only turning on your heels to face him. "yes?" your voice emits a much higher pitched reply than you wanted.

"did you get my email last night?" he asks, folding his arms against his chest.

"i did, yes."

"and you didn't reply?" he asks soberly.

shit.

"oh. well, i m-meant to. i should've. it was just... it was really late and-"

he chuckles outwardly at you, halting your nervous blabbering before it inevitably got worse. you turn your chin away from him, confused at his behavior.

"i'm just teasing you," he huffs after his laugh, "that's actually why i wanted to see you today."

you resist rolling your eyes and instead wear a smile. "i'm sorry, professor. i did intend to reply."

"don't worry about it. although, you might be worried about other things." he looks down and raises the knuckle of his finger up to his glasses and straightens them on to sit higher on his nose bridge, "your exam." you wanted to scream when he said the words. "was that the score you wanted?"

you chuckled so you wouldn't cry, "no, sir, not at all. i-i'm not sure what happened with me." you avoid his eyes.

"an issue with you?" he tilts his head slightly. "what makes you say that?"

"i don't know," you sigh, "i guess i was just extremely unprepared for this test."

"mm," he hums. "is that the score you think you deserved?"

you furrow your brows at that. "since when are exams graded on what the student deserves?" you scoff, "i don't think that really matters..."

"i do." he quickly comments. it almost sounded like he was challenging your sentiment, but you had nothing to say in return.

"let me ask you this, y/n. did you ever plan on coming to my office hours the week before the exam? you did ask me when they were."

there it was.

it felt like he had you in the jaws of a trap. though, you expected him to mention this at some point.

"i did want to see you, professor, but your hours didn't work with my schedule." you explained rather urgently.

his eyes dart down for a moment to think, "what about the TA's?"

"his don't work for me either." you answered, nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek watching his face react to your excuses.

he sat there silently for a moment, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb, appearing in deep thought. you didn't know what to do with yourself.

"the learning assistants for calc have limited hours too. i have back to back classes in the morning and i have work in the afternoons." you offer more excuses to fill the uneasy silence.

he meets your eyes again. "when do you get off?"

"sorry?"

"of work. when do you leave work?" he doubles down on his question.

"it depends?" you reply hesitantly. "if i'm lucky, i'll be done around 5pm. but i don't usually have much luck."

"i see," he murmurs as he looks into your eyes for a moment. "one more question for you."

you perk up to make yourself open to his question.

he straightens his posture against his desk and uncrosses his arms. "if you were presented with an opportunity to get the exam score you deserve, would you take it?"

your head tilts back slightly. "o-of course," you respond. you understood what he was saying but you couldn't help the confusion his statement brought. "i just wouldn't be sure why i deserved to be offered that opportunity, i guess." you chuckle.

"so that's a yes?" he presses.

"...yes." you pause. his ambiguity made you nervous to agree.

he got off his desk and was now standing in front of you. your eyes followed his as they rose far above your line of sight. "i know you're a smart girl, y/n. you just can't access the help you need. so i'd like to offer my help."

"that's very kind of you, professor, but i can't make it to your office hours or-"

"i want to reschedule them to a time that'll work for you." he cuts you off.

your words were caught in your throat again.

"you said you get off at 5?" he continues.

"i..." his assuredness threw you off. "it depends, sir." you spoke slowly. you wanted to answer him properly but you were too confounded with his overly polite suggestion. "sometimes i leave around 7, but i have no control over when my shift ends." just thinking about it all while he was so close to you made you stressed.

"if you were able to communicate with me exactly when your shift ends, i'd be happy to work around your availability to help you with this class."

"what do you... mean?" with mingyu looming over you, it was difficult to process what he was saying. even more so because his cologne was engulfing you in its cloud yet again.

"tell me when you're done with work and i can arrange to meet with you. does that sound good?"

"y-yes, but... how will i tell you?" you mumble, eyes blinking heavier than before.

"you're no good at responding to emails, are you?" he smiles playfully, "how about i give you my number instead."

[talesofesther]

the one who stayed

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: For a moment, Sebastian thought he lost you, and now the guilt for what happened is eating away at him.

A/N: Yes, this is very random. I debated a lot on whether to even post this here or not, but, this Tumblr is, before anything else, a library for me to store my own works. I post everything I write here, so I figured this one shouldn't be the exception because I did like how it turned out.

Masterlist

Cold. That was all your brain could register at the moment; how the ground felt so cold underneath you.

"She's not moving."

You could hear a familiar, urgent voice right beside you. But as the seconds slowly trickled by like blood dripping from an open wound, it became increasingly hard for you to understand what exactly that voice was saying. Yet you could still register the fear laced within the tone, you could feel it in the shakiness of his hold.

Trembling hands held onto your arm, one of them slowly brushing against your skin until it found your hand.

You wished you could see his face right now. Sebastian had always been bold, confident. Though you were almost certain there would be a faint blush hidden under his freckles right now because of the intimate gesture.

But your eyes were heavy. Try as you might, you couldn't seem to blink them open. Come to think of it, your whole body felt heavy, maybe that's why you couldn't move. Even breathing was slowly turning into too much effort.

The hand holding onto your own tightened its grip.

People were talking around you. You couldn't make out any words anymore, they sounded like nothing but faint noise. The tune of his voice still kissed your ears, however; even if you couldn't recognize the words, you knew it was him. And he sounded erratic, scared. There was a tightness to it, syllables getting stuck in his throat; it was all wrong, you didn't like to hear him in this state.

A deeper voice was there too — you instantly recognized the timbre that belonged to the man who was always crushing Sebastian's hopes — and in the back of your mind, it brought anger to your chest. But there was nothing you could do anymore. Wisps of remaining magic tingled on the tip of your fingers and held your heart in a tight, hurtful grip. Maybe you'd gone too far.

A pair of rough hands then picked up your body, taking you away from the cold embrace of the catacomb's floor.

And when the blood dripping from your nose reached your lips, coating your tongue with a metallic taste, you realized that maybe you did go too far after all. Part of you could already hear the keepers berating you for rushing your abilities.

Consciousness slipped from your grasp shortly after that. Your head falling limp against someone's shoulder, and feeling a hand still holding onto yours.

—

Hogwarts' hospital wing was pretty quiet most days, only with the usual first year who scraped their elbow falling from a broom or suffering the effects of a spell gone slightly wrong. They never stayed for long though, nurse Blainey was all too used to these types of encounters.

Yet every now and then, one of the beds stays occupied for a longer period of time.

There were several beds — their metal frame and pale sheets doing little to ease the hospital vibe — one beside the other on each side of the spacious room.

You were glad to be put on one which stayed further away from the main doors; it made for more calmness this way. You had no need to engage with the unfortunate first years and could focus on leaning back and feeling the soft wisps of sunlight kissing your skin from the high window behind you.

It bothers you that you can't exactly remember how you got here. The nurse hadn't filled you with much information either; she told you an older man had brought you in, talking about a casting exercise gone wrong and you overworking yourself; she also said you remained unconscious for about 15 hours before finally waking up — pale, weak, confused.

Most of those feelings still crawled under your skin. Your body is still feeling 10 times heavier than it actually was. You wanted to get up and run off to find Sebastian but you had a nagging sensation that, if you did so now, you'd fall face-first on the floor.

The fabric of the thin blanket draped over you felt soft as you worried it between your fingers, nearly tearing it apart. The last thing you remembered was being in the catacombs, with Sebastian, and wanting to do nothing but protect him — both from himself and his uncle.

His uncle.

Could it be that he was the one who actually brought you back to school?

You doubted Sebastian would have the strength to carry you all the way back here — as much as he might fight you on that argument.

Running a hand through your hair, you pulled at the roots. Your frustration escaped with a long sigh.

The old floorboards creaked under a new weight. At first, you assumed it would be nurse Blainey coming back to check on you. But, from the side of your eye, you caught a glimpse of green, and your heart fought against your ribs, trying to escape your chest.

Sebastian stood a few feet away from your bed, though you could hardly recognize him. The brown locks of his hair were all over the place, way messier than usual; his eyes had a red tint to them, mixed with dark circles of someone who hasn't slept in a while; his usual grin was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with a pained frown; his hands held onto his robes with a death grip.

"I heard you were awake."

His voice didn't sound like the one you had grown to love.

"How are you feeling?" The question stumbled past his lips and he avoided your eyes shortly after. He sounded as if you would yell at him to leave at any moment. It only got you more confused.

"Better, a little weak still," you bit at the inside of your cheek. This moment shouldn't feel as fragile as it does. "Care to tell me what happened?"

You didn't think your tone was harsh, but Sebastian flinched at your voice anyway. Bad memories washed over him like a bucket of icy water.

He met your gaze before hesitantly closing the distance between you, choosing to sit at the edge of your bed.

He looked worse up close. Eyes distant, trapped elsewhere.

"We were fighting against my uncle and the-" Sebastian gulped, guilt squeezing at his throat like barbed wire, "the inferi."

You acknowledged his words with a soft nod, slowly remembering things as he spoke. You pushed yourself up to sit straighter, just a couple of inches closer to Sebastian. He looked like he needed it.

The words lingered on his tongue. You never thought you'd see him this way; hesitant, lost, regretful. With tears on the verge of spilling over his freckled cheeks.

"You were trying to reason with my uncle; and me, for that matter," Sebastian chuckled halfheartedly, "trying to stop us from killing each other, when the inferi started to close on us. You didn't think twice, and all I saw were lighting strikes coming through the ceiling of the catacomb, destroying everything but us, and… you laying on the floor afterwards."

Memories were clearer now. Sebastian had attacked his uncle after he destroyed the relic and they started exchanging spells at each other while the inferi slipped from Sebastian's control. Everything could go very bad, very quickly. You remembered trying to speak with them, make them see past the anger clouding their judgment. But it was to no avail. What you remember the most, however, was seeing Sebastian so focused on his uncle, and unaware of the mass of inferi coming towards him.

You really hadn't thought twice at all. Ancient magic flowed through your veins like wildfire; it was all you could feel. The rumbling of thunder became your heartbeat. You killed each and every one of the creatures, burning out all of your energy in the process.

"And what of Solomon?" You found yourself wondering.

Sebastian pursed his lips. His eyebrows scrunched slightly as his body tensed for a moment and then relaxed again. "We stopped fighting as soon as I ran up to you. I- I begged that he'd help me bring you back to school. I'm not sure where he is now." His body shook with each intake of air. "Or Anne."

"Well, guess my plan worked after all. At least I got you to stop fighting," you tried to lighten the heavy air around you and Sebastian, mustering a teasing grin as you tilted your head to try and catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Sebastian worried his lower lip between his teeth to keep it from quivering. There was no witty remark, no ironic comment. Nothing. His tears were one blink away from spilling over.

Maybe if you listened closely, you'd be able to hear your heart shattering. For him. For this broken boy barely holding the last pieces of himself together in front of you, for this boy who stood so desperately alone in the world.

You reached out, your hand closing tightly around Sebastian's — because you couldn't bare seeing him alone one second more. Your thumb brushed against his skin. You could feel his trembling. "We'll find him, and Anne. I promise we'll figure things out, Sebastian."

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking, squeezing his eyes shut and causing a single tear to roll down his cheek. "No, you don't understand," his broken words fell from his lips at the same time he pulled away from your touch.

"I never-" Sebastian stood up then, choking on his own breathing as he looked at you with a mix of longing and anguish. "It was never my intention to hurt you… I'm sorry," he whispered, so quietly that if the hospital wing wasn't as empty as it is, you would've missed it.

"Sebastian, you didn't-" you cut yourself off when he abruptly turned away from you and started marching towards the main doors of the spacious room, putting as much distance between you and him as he could.

The fatigue still gripping at your muscles was the last thing on your mind when you threw away the covers and stood — albeit on shaky legs — to go after him. "Sebastian, please wait," you called, grimacing as he took your heart with him.

Ultimately, you didn't go very far. Nurse Blainey stopped you in your tracks before you could even reach the middle of the room.

—

The sun rays shining through the tall stained glass windows were warm against your skin, doing little to help with your current sleepy state as you tried to at least pretend to be paying attention to class.

"It's been nearly a week, Ominis." You groaned, folding your arms on top of the table so you could lay your head down, "do you think he's mad at me for trying to stop him?"

The boy sitting beside you chuckled quietly, twirling his wand in his hands. "Darling, I don't think Sebastian could be mad at you even if he wanted to."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, Professor Binns walked by a little too close for comfort; his ghostly form sending a shiver down your body.

"He's been spending most of his evenings hiding away in the Undercroft," Ominis felt around on the table until his fingers brushed the fabric of your robes, he gently closed his hand around your wrist and squeezed comfortingly. "I believe it would do both of you some good if you went to see him."

—

It was mostly dark out already. The sky slowly filled with stars as night settled in and a soft cold breeze hung around the DADA hallways. The pristine floors reflected the image of your shoes, pacing back and forth restlessly.

You were having second thoughts. Apprehension tugged at your heartstrings because as much as you didn't want to admit it, the sight of Sebastian walking away from you so desperately that day had stung.

Though no matter how much you stalled, you knew you'd relent. The sleepless nights you've been going through lately are enough of a telltale of the effect Sebastian has on you.

A deep breath filled your lungs and you closed your eyes, pleading for your heartbeat to settle as you pushed open the door to the Undercroft.

The familiar warmth hugged you instantly. All of the candlelights dimly shining against the stone walls forced away the frown that clung to your brows. You'd never blamed Ominis for being so protective of this place, it really was the perfect hideaway.

You found Sebastian pretty quickly. He sat on the floor against the far wall to your right, knees tucked close to his chest as his wand moved delicately, making a paper bird flap its wings and fly around in front of him. The bird fell limply to the floor when Sebastian's eyes landed on you, however. You thought you saw him gulp and straighten his back too, but other than that, the Slytherin boy expressed no other reaction upon seeing you. It felt almost as if he was expecting your arrival.

Your feet were momentarily frozen to the stone floor, Sebastian's gaze burning through your soul. You also couldn't help but notice how lonely he looked, just sitting there by himself; it made your stomach turn unpleasantly. You wondered if he considered himself deserving of it.

It was as if you spoke with your eyes for a beat. You saying that if he wanted you to leave, you would. And Sebastian pleading for you to stay.

All that could be heard were your steps echoing through the Undercroft as you carefully came to sit beside him. Your shoulder just shy of touching his.

The silence wasn't a comfortable one, but it also wasn't awkward. It was just heavy. There was a tension in the air that none of you knew how to address.

Sebastian's knuckles were white around his wand, he sat stiff beside you, not once glancing your way.

You figured that if you didn't speak, you'd be sitting in silence for hours. You glanced down at the paper bird that lay discarded on the floor, your lips quirking up just slightly as you picked it up; "you know, my mother taught me how to make these when I was younger. Without magic, that is." You chuckled. You rarely spoke about your parents, it was a sensitive topic. But it was your way of trying to make Sebastian feel more comfortable to share what he was feeling with you; what was bothering him.

"I used to get rather frustrated when I couldn't get it right the first times," you gently inspected the small bird with your fingers, thumbs running along the smooth white paper, "but she'd always tell me to take a breath, count to five, and start again."

With your eyes fixed on the paper bird in your hands, you didn't notice Sebastian's eyes fixed on your profile. The grip on his wand loosened slightly as he committed every detail of you to memory.

A shiver ran down your back when you finally turned your head to face him again. He was close, your breaths mingling as the lines of your relationship blurred and burned with the candles.

"Sebastian…" You breathed, watching the way his eyes darted to your lips and back to your eyes, "about what happened at the catacombs, I'm-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry." He cut you off suddenly, voice quiet and a little choked, but firm.

"I am, though," you leaned your head back against the stone wall, involuntarily leaning closer to him as your body gravitated to his warmth. "I'm sorry things didn't go as planned, but I promise we're not gonna stop looking for anything else that might help Anne."

Sebastian averted his gaze from you, furrowing his brows. You saw tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of his eyes, despite his efforts to hide them. "Stop it," he mumbled.

You shifted in your seat, your jaw set tightly in place. The beats of your heart against your chest were painful. The thought of Sebastian distancing himself from you was painful. So much so that you fear you'd be willing to do anything to fix it, within reason or not.

"I mean it, Sebastian, I will do anything-"

"Stop it! You don't get it, do you?" He snapped, his eyes burning into yours again and shining under the candlelights. "I saw you laying on the floor of that damned catacomb and I thought you were dead!" The syllables broke and stuttered past his lips, the pain and fear he felt that day came back in waves and twisted his expression.

You were stunned to silence, watching as Sebastian opened his mouth, lower lip trembling as he searched for his voice again.

"Do you have any idea of what that felt like?" He whispered, words strangled and squeezing his chest until he had trouble breathing. You were nothing but a blur in front of him. Sebastian pursed his lips to try and keep himself from breaking. Speaking it out loud somehow felt like making it real. "I thought I'd just lost you, and… and it would be my fault."

The feeling of your gentle thumb carefully brushing against his cheek brought Sebastian back to reality, and he realized his tears were already dripping down his chin.

"I would never blame you for what happened," you shook your head, smiling sadly as you felt your own eyes sting, "you were just trying to help your sister, when everyone else had given up."

"I will cure Anne… but not at the expense of you," in some ways, he looked surprised at his own words; at the truthfulness of them. He gulped back a sob, "I thought I could control it," Sebastian breathed in sharply, avoiding your gaze but leaning into your touch, "I went too far, as Ominis has probably told you a thousand times already."

You chuckled softly, sneaking your fingers over his jaw and until they disappeared between the brown locks of his hair. Sebastian closed his eyes briefly at your comforting touch, allowing himself to melt against you. "He's more understanding than you give him credit for," you smiled.

That got half a smile out of Sebastian, his freckles highlighted by the candles around you. His hand inched closer to your free one resting on your lap, the tip of his fingers timidly closing around yours, craving more of you. His pupils were blown wide when he finally looked up at you again.

"I promise to never do anything this reckless again." His low tone left no room for doubt.

You leaned in slightly, feeling his fringe tickle your forehead. You thought you heard him trying to suppress a gasp, but maybe it was your foggy mind playing tricks on you.

There was a glint in his eyes you'd never seen before, still shining with remains of his emotions; but vulnerable, calm, loving.

"I am quite fond of your reckless side, though."

Your unexpected words brought an endearing blush across Sebastian's freckles. You felt the shape of his teasing grin when his lips touched yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[not-magdi]

"Chocolates"

Warnings: smut, 18+

Summary: You and Pablo try out some special chocolates

Word Count: 1k

Reading Time: 4 min

A/N

This whole thing is actually not my idea, it was @amaranthineghost idea so all credits go to her and her post.

Hope you enjoy it, love you guys Magdi <3

---------

Pablo's body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle in his body longed for her. He didn't even know it was possible to feel so turned on as he currently is. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he looked over at you, hoping to see the same effect on you.

He shuddered when he glanced at you and found you sitting on the couch, looking completely unbothered like these damm chocolates didn't even do anything to you.

When you saw a video of a couple trying out these unique chocolates, you knew you wanted to try these things with Pablo, too. You two have been trying out new things in the bedroom lately. Not that there was anything wrong with your sex life, but you two are young and want to experiment a bit.

As you first came to him with the idea, he just smiled and waved you off, not believing a piece of chocolate could have such an effect on him. So you ordered them and made a challenge out of it. The one who lasts longer has total control afterwards.

Still not believing these things work, Pablo agreed instantly. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated things, so he wasn't worried he had to give away the control tonight.

Oh, how he cursed himself for making this bet now. He was slowly losing his mind. It was only ten minutes since you split one of these little squares. Little beads of sweat collected on his forehead as his sweatpants became tighter with every second.

He thought you didn't see him struggling so badly, but you did. You acknowledged every movement of his, every little huff he let out as he adjusted himself again. You had a perfect look at him from your peripheral vision, your phone screen long dark, you only had your eyes on him.

You would lie when you'd say you weren't affected at all. The warmth between your legs was growing stronger and stronger. You were just better at hiding it.

Pablo, on the other hand, was close to exploding. Because you just had to wear his favourite pair of shorts you own and one of his old jerseys with his name on the back.

The images that were flooding his mind were everything but PG13. As much as he tried to stop it, he couldn't. Pictures of you on your knees before him, his hands in your hair as his cock was buried deep down in your throat.

A choked sound left his lips as he bucked his hips up into nothing to get at least a bit of friction.

Smirking, you sit up, looking into his eyes with a smug expression, "You giving up?"

His face flushes bright red, "N-no I'm fine, totally fine."

"Ok, if you say so." Shrugging, you lay yourself on your stomach before him. Now, Pablo had a great look at how good your ass looks in those shorts.

Groaning loudly, he finally admits defeat. "Baby, come here, now."

Smirking, you stand up and walk over to him, making sure to sway your hips while walking. Now standing between his legs, you wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance between you two.

Feeling her soft, chapped lips against his own made every muscle shiver. God, how he missed that feeling. Almost like an instinct, his hands ran down her spine and flattened against her ass. Applying some force, he urged you to curl your body against his.

Finally, having her sitting where he needed her the most drew a sinful sound from his lips. "You like that baby? Huh, you like having me in your lap?"

Pablo's grip on you got tighter, moving you gently on his dick. "Mhm you know I love it, Amor." He whispered into your ear.

You two continued to share passionate kisses as you gradually became less clothed. Now, only in your underwear, Pablo moves to go on top of you, but you stop him.

"Hey, you lost the bet. I'm on top tonight."

Letting out a huff, Pablo moves to sit up again and guides you on his lap. Both of you let out a hiss as your core brushes over his clothed dick. You start to brush soft kisses all over his necked chest. While your hand slowly moves downwards, scratching his abs slightly with your nails.

"Mhm, fuck Y/N!" Your hand finally disappears beneath the cotton of his boxers. Pablo sucked in a sharp breath as you griped him in and slowly started to massage him.

Pushing his underwear down his thighs, you climb up again after removing your panties. Locking your eyes with Pablo, you slowly sink down on his length, letting out a loud whimper when he is bottoming you out.

Pablo's hands grip your hips tightly while he leaves wet kisses all over your collarbones. You start to move gently up and down, increasing your pace gradually.

Your nails claw into his back as Pablo starts to thrust upwards into you, your breath hitching with every thrust. Arching your back a bit makes Pablo hit your G-spot with every thrust.

"Shit Pablo, right there!"

"Right here, baby? Yeah, does that feel good?"

Your words coiled in your throat. The only answer you can give are high-pitched moans right into Pablo's ear.

Feeling the coil in his stomach get tighter and tighter, Pablo reaches down to rub your clit. Wanting you to come before him.

Pablo's finger flicking aggressively on your clit was the last thing you needed to cum. Clenching hard around him, you release your juices all over his lap, squirming at the overstimulation.

Grunting loudly, Pablo feels your walls clenching around him and shoots his load deep into you.

You two bask in the afterglow of two amazing orgasms for a few minutes until Pablo picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.

"You ok, Amor?"

Cuddling yourself deeper into his strong arms, you nod. "I'm good, and I love you."

Pablo giggles and snuggles you into the soft blanket of your bed. You were always becoming a big softie after sex, and Pablo thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Cuddling himself next to you, he grabs you and snuggles his face into your neck.

"Goodnight bebé, I love you."

"I love you too."

----

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome!! ❤️

[deceitfuldevout]

First and Last

Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader

Word Count: +3,234

Warning(s): +18, Non con, ANGST, Domestic violence, Mentions of overdose/overdosing, Drug usage, Addiction, Forced drug usage, Heavy domestic violence, Forced breeding Accidental OD, Really long because I don't have a life.

Author's note(s): I wanted to post this before my trip. Idk if I want to make this into a 2 part series maybe if its good than ye 😃

You run into your soon-to-be ex-husband at a friend's party. He's determined to get a second chance. But some things never change. 

You met Tom in college. Both of you were part of the same friend group and would see each other often. He was persistent in pursuing you. Eventually mustering up the courage to ask you out. You said yes because you fell for him first. But it was Tom who fell harder. He was your first love, first kiss, first everything. After a year of dating, he finally pops the question. Everything seemed to be going fine at first. 

That was almost a decade ago. He's not the same man you fell in love with. Something inside him changed. There were times where you were unsure whether it was the drugs talking or how he truly felt. He would try to hide it but failed miserably. You can't remember how many times you've found his stash, which always resulted in an argument. You were sick of his excuses. It eventually got worse with his intake. He would arrive home half sober. You were sick of seeing him waste away like this. You remember finally deciding that enough was enough. 

After catching him at home for the fifth time, you decide to take action into your own hands. In a fit of anger, you retrieve his hidden stash and flush it down the toilet. When Tom found out his reaction wasn't what you had predicted. Not at all. He dragged you to the bathroom and demanded to know where his supply went. It was the first time he'd ever laid his hands on you. Instead of apologizing for bringing them home, Tom held you in a chokehold until you told him where they were.  

Never in your life would you imagine Tom of all people reacting in such a way. When you finally confess what had happened, he loses his temper. It terrified you how strong he became while under the influence. You were no match for his drug-fueled rage. Your wrist is still sore from how he held you down last week. There were bruises that were still healing for all the times before. But this one had been the worst punishment yet. He left you there on the bathroom floor, naked and sore. Tom hadn't bothered to look your way. He zips up his pants before leaving in search of his next 'fix'.  

That wasn't the first time he put his hands on you, but it was the first time you had left him. You received a string of desperate phone calls, voicemails, text messages all from Tom. You returned home to find him on his knees with a bouquet in hand and tears in his eyes. He apologized and promised to be a better man for you. That was shortly lived. When you arrived home from a late shift, you caught Tom using it again. This time it was different, you found Tom overdosing. You lunged towards him, "Tom?! Tom!" cradling his head in your hands, holding him close. It was the first time you've caught him. A part of you feared this wouldn't be the last.  

Tom had tried to make it up with sex, but you couldn't be around him anymore. You felt almost revolted how he didn't care. Having him around only reminds you of the pain. This time instead of throwing a fit, yelling, or crying. You simply packed all your things and left. What could you do with a man who refuses to change? Leave. You left for your mother's place, finally accepting that it wasn't your fault. 

The divorce papers were mailed to him. For a while now, Tom knew there was something wrong with him. He was just too stubborn to admit it. You'd spoken with a lawyer and there was a court date issued. In a few months from now, you will no longer be referred to as husband and wife.  

For the first time in years, you've finally let the feeling of guilt go. No longer were you going to let this define who you were. You weren't a failure as a wife. Because it was never your fault in the first place. Soon enough you were doing the things you loved again, even began to pick up a few new hobbies. That spark of joy began to return. You started dressing up in nicer clothes, going out, actually spending quality time with friends and family.  

Sometimes there would be a moment when you'd feel for Tom and wonder what he'd be up to. But then again did you really want to know? It would usually be the same thing, him being higher than a kite. Still, you couldn't help but mourn at the loss of your marriage. When you were young and promised to love each other until your very last breath. You still loved Tom, but he loved other things more. 

You were looking forward to your old college friend's New Year's party. A healthy dosage of socializing to get you out there again. You had the opportunity to catch up with everyone there. It felt as though no time had passed. You danced around, joined in some games, things were going well. But there was a lingering feeling that someone, somewhere was staring at you.  

That's when you spot him, Tom, sitting quietly at the end of the room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him twiddling his thumbs. There's a part of you that regrets not filing a restraining order. Tom always had a habit of showing up unannounced. You weren't in the mood for whatever he had to say. So, you left his sight, down the hall, to the nearest restroom. 

You sat on the counter, removing your heels for a moment. A groan escapes your lips as you rub both feet, knowing very well they would ache in the morning. Shit, you were really gonna feel that. You splash your face a few times, hoping that it would combat the summer heat. Completely unaware of the sound of the door opening. It was as if you knew who was behind you, turning around to find Tom leaning against the door. You gave him a glare, "Get out," you were in no mood for his emotional ambush. He ignores your request and calmly states, "I just want to talk to my wife," 

"We're not--" 

"Legally, yes, we are," he corrects. Always so condescending. It was one of the things you couldn't stand. How he would belittle your intelligence. It was the little remarks he'd make to shut down any effort you gave. He made you feel unwanted. He was the one who decided to push you away first.  

If only he could see past his own selfishness that you truly wanted to save this marriage. But in order to do so, he would need to admit that it was an ongoing problem. You didn't have to worry about a mistress, no. You had to worry everyday about finding him dead. You've caught him overdosing a few times. It eventually took a toll on you. To the point where you lost weight from the stress. Tom rakes his hand through his locks, "Of course you don't want to see me, nothing ever satisfies you," a snarky remark to try and get under your nerves.  

With the amount of alcohol in your system, it worked, "Are you kidding me?" you scoff, "Don't you dare lie to me Thomas, I tried everything, everything to fix us, can you say the same?" you growl in his face. Maybe it was the liquid courage that gave you a whole new attitude. Whatever it is helped with confronting him. His reaction, however, was not what you expected.

He smothers you into a deep kiss, pulling you into his embrace. You try shoving at him in an attempt to catch breath. Finally breaking free from his grip. For a moment, he's seems visibly hurt. You scold, "What you wrong with you?!" it wasn't fair. After all the hurt you've been through, Tom still tries to insert himself into your life.  

You deserved better. You try to shove him away. Instead, he shoves you against the wall, "Can't you see..." he presses his sweaty cheek against the crook of your neck, "You're my everything..." his voice sounding more desperate with each word. You scoff, "No, Tom, you can't do this..." tears began to brim, threatening to spill. His eyes are filled with worry, "No...now, baby please don't cry..." his expression is saddened but there are no tears. He kisses each cheek, ignoring your sniffling. Tom held you in place by the shoulders, "I couldn't stop thinking about you," it's true. You were his first love.  

Tom had longed to see his wife again. To feel her, touch her, caress and worship every part of her. He wanted to make things right, truly. But she just got up and left him. Like he was trash. What made her so high and mighty? He's so sick of seeing you always playing the role of a saint. For once he wants to see you get downright nasty with him. His breathing became frantic, "Can't you see? I'm addicted to you," there's a mischievous look on his face that you were more than familiar with.  

You place a cautious hand in front to create distance, "Tom, listen to me, you’re high right now, you're not in the right--" you were muffled by his hand, "No! No! Listen to me!" his voice booms. His sudden mood swing scares you. So much so that your nails dig into his wrist. He hisses in pain, "Stop it! Just stop!" he grits his teeth. When he releases his grip the first thing you do is make a run for it. But before you could even set foot out of the restroom you're pulled back by the hair. You fell on your back, hitting the marble floor.  

It sends the air out of your lungs. That's when you start crying, shriveling up into a ball, begging for him to stop. This was how your arguments always ended. Tom crouches down, "Oh...baby I'm so sorry..." He grabs a towel, pushing it against the bottom of the door to ensure that it's soundproofed. He then pulls you into a hug, locking his arms around your waist. Tom rocks you in his embrace, "Please...please don't cry shh.." He doesn't want to see anymore tears spill. He's thankful for the music being loud enough to muffle your cries. He lifted you onto the counter.  

You look down at the floor, refusing to look him in the eyes. Tom presses his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter shut, "Let me make this right..." he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bag, "Here... this'll help with the nerves," he swipes his fingers on his tongue before dipping it in. He swirls it a few times, coating the digits with the white powder.

When he brings it to your mouth you turn away with disgust, smacking his hand off, "Get it the fuck away from me! You fucking tweaker!" you claw at him. He's hurt by your words. How could you? He really is trying to stop. It's harder than it looks. He's tried just about anything you could name to fix his marriage. Nothing, not a damn thing worked. Every time he'd come running back to that same euphoric feeling. When you left, he started using it again, more than ever.  

If only he could get you to try it out, then maybe, you'd understand. He presses you against the counter, using his bodyweight to hold you in place. You sob, "Please...please Tommy...don't do this..." he grips both of your wrists, ignoring your pleas. He looks at you with a maddening look in his eyes. You knew he was out of it. There was always that nothingness behind his irises. To think that this man was once your devoted husband.  

He muffles your cries with a clean hand. He has an idea for the other. Tom hisses, “M’gonna make you take it, make you feel really good...” he reaches in between your legs, pushing aside the lace. Tom brings the snow coated fingers to your folds. He bites his bottom lip, concentrating on finding your opening. He slowly starts to insert them, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop. Tom starts pumping his coated fingers in and out of your channel.

You let out a muffled scream under his palm. Stray tears falling down and landed on his wrist. He felt almost bad, but you'll understand soon enough where he's coming from. Just wait and see. You'll love it as much as he does. Fuck, every vein in his body felt like it was on fire. It's easier getting hard while using, too easy. His dick almost hurts form how hard it was. He spat a wad on the tip, coating it with a bit of snow before hovering it over your folds. He presses it against your opening.

A wide grin spreads on his face, "Sh...please...don't flinch sweetheart I just wanted to feel... can I feel my own wife's pussy?" He moans. A mewl escapes your lips. Tom chuckles, he knew you'd love it as much as he does. His hands grip your neck, he doesn't know how strong he's squeezing, not while he's using. It felt nice feeling you clench on his length. He’s on an adrenaline high right now. He’s not going to stop anytime soon.

He rapidly thrusts his hips in and out your channel, indulging in the feeling. Two of his most favorite things combined. Oh, how he’s missed you. Tom picks up his pace. He leans down to plant wet, sloppy kisses across your bare neck. He retreats his lips, groaning against your ear, “I promise you I'll make up for everything, I'll even give you a baby like you've always wanted...” He knows it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to be. A mother.  

Your eyes shoot wide open as you scream into his palm to stop. Tom pops a pill in his mouth. He swishes it around a few times before forcing your mouth to open. He removes his palm only for a moment, before shoving it inside. It's too much, too much...You felt like you were flying, no, falling? Your heart couldn't stop beating and every single last one of your limbs felt like jelly. A visible vein bulges on the corner of your temple. Only a faint gargle leaves your lips, "F-fuck...T-tom...please..” sniffling for him to stop.

He coos, “M'gonna give you a baby, ok? then we'll be a happy family..." He sighs in admiration. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. Always so compliant. Don’t worry, he’s going to make sure you’ll never get rid of him, “This was mine the day I put that ring on that finger..." He finishes with a roar, coating your insides with his spunk. Tom is almost satisfied, almost. He doesn’t want to waste a single drop. He carefully removes his cock from your channel, plugging you back up with his fingers.  

Tom takes the small baggie. He coats it with your arousal. A deep moan escapes his lips, "Just hide it for me, yeah, can you do that love?" Two of his fingers are buried deep into your channel, he scissors them apart a few times, testing the waters. Then he starts to push it in. You were too buzzed to even fight him off.

His fingers have always caressed that spot you just couldn't quite reach. Tom sighs, “Beautiful...fucking beautiful...” words that he hasn't used in years. Tom throws his coat on the floor. He carefully places you on it, taking no note of the blank expression on your face. He hadn’t noticed your eyes rolling back. He pressed his head against the door to hear if anyone was lurking. If the coast was clear, he could leave.

He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before leaving, placing a tie on the doorknob to ensure no one would wander inside. Tom prepares his car for the both of you. If you were thinking of escaping him, think again. He would keep you hidden until you were surely pregnant. You’ll have a part of him with you forever. He returns to the house with a pep in his step, opening the door to find you still lying on the ground.

That’s when Tom finally notices the faint frothing on the corners of your mouth. He crouches down, “No...” he should’ve seen this coming. You weren’t used to any kind of drug. You’ve never smoked a day in your life. Tom pulls you into his arms, “No no no no...no please...” he shook your unconscious form, “Please! Stay with me!” he shook harder, “Please! Fuck!” Finally breaking down. Tom couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without you. For it to actually come true was his biggest nightmare, “Please! Don’t leave me!” He rocks both of you back and forth.

Tom tries his best to control his breathing, reaching into his pocket. He calls the one person he knows would help, "Lenn...I'm in deep shit," he chokes. Tom prays that his brother can make it on time. For years now, Lenny had been the one covering up for his little brother. He could hear Tom on the other end of the phone, “She--she’s not waking up...” That’s when Lenny races out his office in search of his twin, "Tom, listen to me, where are you?"

Whatever shit his little brother has gotten into this time, he better hope it doesn’t ruin his record. Lenny hadn't spent years in law enforcement just to lose it all in one day. If word got out that the local detective’s own brother was a tweaker, he’d have to kiss that promotion goodbye. However, Lenny isn’t going to let him get away so easily. Unlike Tom, his brother is colder, more calculated than emotional. He's always surpassed him in every way possible. Well, almost. Lenny hates to admit it, but Tom had the one thing he finally beat him at, you.  

You were the color added to his life. Without you his world was just...black and white.

[slut4fangs]

🍒 double cherry pie 🍒

pairing: female reader x eddie munson

summary: you and eddie have been friends for years, until one day you decide to ask him what the handcuffs on his wall are for *wink wink*

warnings: 18+, smut, slight innocence kink but reader is playing dumb (strategically), come eating lolz, possessive eddie, bestfriend!eddie makes his return, not proofread i was really excited to post this one haha, and the rest is a surprise

author’s note: this idea came to my head and there are so many eddie fics it’s possible some version of this exists somewhere else, but anyhow my brain wouldn’t shut up about this idea until i wrote it down haha. please reblog and comment i love to hear your feedback it keeps me encouraged to write! okay ilysm enjoy babes

not proofread be nice - xoxo, slater

Eddie Munson was good at getting what he wanted needed out of you, he needed you more than he needed air to breathe. Not that you noticed though, you two had been friends for as long as you could remember and Eddie had always been inching closer and closer to having you all to himself. In your time as friends, Eddie had decided he would be your first everything. I’m talking all of the bases, first base aka kissing, second base aka touching above the waist, third base aka touching below the waist. And lastly, he planned on a home run, because in his mind no one else deserved to have you like that but him. He had been a guard dog of sorts, protecting you from any heartbreak, which meant scaring off anyone who tried to get their hands on you. It wasn’t easy, some were persistent, leaving notes in your locker, walking you to class, nothing or no one got between Eddie and his favorite girl. His girl.

“What are these for,” you feigned innocence at the handcuffs that adorned Eddie’s poster cluttered walls. You knew exactly what they were meant for, you just wanted to hear him say it. The confused look on your face nearly took Eddie’s breath away, now was his chance.

“For bad girls,” Eddie chuckled at his own ridiculous behavior. God, you were driving him crazy without even laying a finger on him.

“Oh?” Your voice rant with curiosity and interest, maybe you could be bad. Just this one time, maybe. Eddie was shirtless in his tight black jeans and he really couldn't have looked more delectable than he did at this very moment. The temptation was there for the taking.

“Mmmhm,” Eddie sat on his bed, hands placed behind him to prop him up.

“Mmmhm isn’t much of an answer, Munson,” your heart raced, you really couldn’t help toying with him a bit. He thought you were none the wiser, but you had a hunch for what all of his odd behavior meant lately. You were just unaware of how much he actually liked you. It was bordering on obsession and Eddie couldn’t help it, he adored you, always had. The tension the last few weeks were palpable to say the least.

“Well I could show you better than I can tell you…” Eddie smirked knowingly at you, sitting up to rest his hands on his thighs.

“And what is that supposed to mean,” you blushed sweetly. Eddie loved when he made you blush, if he only knew how many times you had blushed and turned away so he couldn’t see turn red. It happened more often than you liked to admit.

“You’re a hands on learner aren’t you,” Eddie trailed off hopefully.

Say yes, say yes, say yes Eddie thought to himself.

“How’d you know,” you smiled at him, of course he knew that he’s known you forever. He just hoped you’d say yes, and he was halfway to getting that yes.

“Hand em’ over then,” Eddie held out his hand and you took the handcuffs off the wall careful not to scuff the paint, not that Eddie would care. He worshiped the ground you walked on, after all.

“Okay…,” you say handing them to Eddie, and to your delight he pats his lap as if to say ‘take a seat.’

Straddling his lap you try your best to stay calm and cool about the whole situation, but it was a long time coming and you could’ve screamed if you weren’t so nervous.

“Now,” Eddie begins, holding the handcuffs out to you, “hands.” You place your hands in front of you waiting on further instruction, giddy as a kid in a candy shop.

Eddie cuffs your wrists and snaps the clasps shut sounds so final, heart pounding you smile and say “now what.”

“Now…you’re stuck with me,” Eddie places your cuffed hands around his neck and presses your body to his, you can feel how hard you’ve made him and you audibly gasp. Eddie’s hands are palming your ass, “nice skirt,” his hands are under your skirt now, fingers skimming the lace detail of your panties. “Cute,” Eddie comments, a small groan escaping his pretty mouth.

“Ditto,” you wanted nothing more but to kiss him in this moment, but good things were worth waiting for.

“Ditto? Are you calling me cute?” Eddie looked a mix between amused and confused. No one has called him cute since he was a little kid, it wasn’t a compliment he was used to. The frequented compliments came from the punk girl who worked the gas station near his house, and one of the older waitresses at his work. Sarah always complimented his hair and jacket, and Mabel always told him how handsome he looked with his hair pushed back as he worked. She had said he looked more and more handsome every time she saw him, she felt like she watched him grow up in the blink of an eye. And Sarah thought he was cool, but she liked women only, Eddie just happened to be the prettiest boy in town. Plenty of girls liked Eddie, but he was taboo, town gossip ensured his dating life was much more complicated than it should ever be for someone in their early twenties.

“Yes,” you sigh, a little dreamy sigh that had slipped out before you could stop it. “You’re cute, but you’re also hot.”

“Hot?” Eddie raised his eyebrows in shock, you’ve never really commented on his looks, you thought he already knew how good looking and charming he was. But you were getting the memo that he didn’t actually know, and you thought someone should let him know, you’d be damned if it was anyone else but you.

“As hot as the trailer gets in the summer when the window AC unit goes out and you hit it and cuss it out until it works,” you say making Eddie’s mouth drop. Were you really admitting you had feelings for him by making a reference to his shitty AC?

“Oh my god,” is all Eddie can say, “how long have you been in love with me?” And just like that his smartass attitude had returned with a vengeance, he knew you liked him now so all bets were off, no more tiptoeing around the truth.

“Quit it, are you going to show me what these handcuffs are for or not, Eddie Munson?”

“I could have you cuffed to this bed and screaming my name, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet,” Eddie says and you scoff. “Don’t get an attitude with me,” Eddie smirks at the brat straddling him, “patience is a virtue, Princess.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes and wish you could cross your arms in protest. How did he know what you were and weren’t ready for? What was his fucking deal? “Whose the tease now,” you remark, not able to hold that one back when you should’ve been feigning innocence and keeping face.

“Oh, so you were doing that on purpose? Aw my little tease, how cute,” Eddie boops the tip of your nose with his finger.

“Shut up,” you retort.

“Be careful, remember I’m the one with the key.”

“What are you trying to say?” Your attitude was palpable at this point and Eddie was getting fed up. Before you knew what was happening Eddie had you flipped you onto the bed and a hand holding your cuffed wrists to the mattress above your head.

“I’m trying to say I’d be careful if I were you, I might keep you here like this forever,” his other hand held your cheek so gently like you might break.

“Is that a threat?” You’re the one smirking now, staying here under him didn’t seem like a bad fate after all.

“You’re going to kill me,” Eddie whispered, thinking of how to hold himself back when you were here, waiting for him to touch you, wanting him almost as much as he wanted you. Eddie knew he wanted to take his time with you, first base was the end goal but god the home run was right in front of his face, begging him to go further than he thought you were ready for.

Before he did anything else he had to know for sure, because it looked as though you could’ve already had your first kiss. Not that it would change his mind about you, he just wanted to be your everything, that was all. “Has anyone ever kissed you? Honest answer please.”

“No! Oh my god, I’ve been waiting for you,” you whined and writhed beneath him, he could feel his dick brush against you and he hissed at the feeling.

“You have no idea how what that means to me,” Eddie said reaching over you to his nightstand for the key.

“I think I have an idea,” you nodded your head towards his crotch and he laughed unlocking the cuffs.

Tossing the handcuffs to the side Eddie laughed and brought you back up to his lap in an instant, for a lanky guy he really had the potential to toss you around and that made your mind run wild with the possibilities.

“Kiss me already, what are you waiting for?” You ask impatiently squeezing Eddie’s arms.

“Waitin’ for that beautiful mouth of yours to quit moving,” Eddie brushed his thumb along your bottom lip teasingly and you nodded, closing your mouth, eyes big and glassy. He melted at the sight of you. “That’s more like it,” Eddie held your face and your hands held onto his arms in vice like grips. Eddie and you met half way, lips brushing slightly, “close your eyes,” Eddie directed making you laugh. Your laugh was cut short by him pressing his mouth to yours, he quite literally took your breath away. The kiss was soft and warm, gentle at first, Eddie ran his tongue across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him. The two of you melted together nicely, a sweet kiss turned pornographic and animalistic the way you two had both waited for this moment forever. Eddie moaned in your mouth and you pressed yourself against him, he was still sensitive but didn’t break the kiss even though it hurt. He thought it hurt too good to stop. His hands raked down your hips and then back up, you would’ve gasped when he groped your breasts but you were too busy devouring him to break the kiss. Too busy to question his hand under your skirt, feeling how wet you were for him. You could feel him smile as he ran his finger through your folds, two fingers stretching you out deliciously you couldn't fight the urge to rock back and fourth on his fingers, and that's when you pushed against him until his back hit the mattress. You broke the kiss and stared down at him, he cheeks were flushed and he looked breathtaking.

"Hmm," you sat up and fiddled with his handcuff belt buckle, he was looking at you with awe and curiosity. What were you planning to do next? He decided that would be your choice. Much to his surprise you started unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans.

"Are you sure about this," Eddie held the waistband of his jeans, waiting on that yes again.

"I've never been more sure of anything, Eddie. I want you, I want this," you said and that's all it took for Eddie to peel his jeans off while you took your shirt off. Not feeling shy, not feeling anything but how right this all felt. Eddie's fingers slid along the waistband of your panties and slipped them off with ease, when you sat on top of him with no barrier in between the two of you he sighed with relief. Rubbing yourself on him was making his head spin, he let out a string of curses when you licked up his neck, kissing and sucking until he had you flipped over on your back again, giggling up at him, you knew just how to drive him wild.

"You're trouble," Eddie pumped two fingers in and out of you torturously slow, curling his fingers in a come hither motion over and over again until your legs felt like jelly and the sounds coming from you sounded rated R. You whined with his tongue on your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin until there was sure to be a big hickey in the shape of Eddie's mouth. But you didn't care what people would think, nothing could ruin this.

"You're sinful," slipped out of your mouth and you surprised yourself at the sheer smoothness of your words, something about him made you comfortable enough to say these dirty things.

"Mm, maybe my mouth is," Eddie's tongue circled your breast, sucking on your breast staring up at you, you knew Eddie's mouth wasn't the most sinful thing about him with his cock pressed to your tummy. You run your hands through his hair and whine, tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation. "Feel good, Princess?" Eddie kissed your lips and smiled devilishly down at you.

"Mhm," you nodded.

"Mhm isn't much of an answer, baby. Need to hear you say it," Eddie parted your thighs further apart for him, angling himself closer to you and rubbing his cock up and down your folds, almost pushing himself in but not yet, not until you said it.

"Need to feel you inside me, please, Eddie," you held his face and swept his hair out of the way, your hands running through his hair were quickly becoming one of his biggest weaknesses. He couldn't deny you of what you wanted any longer, when the only thing you wanted was for him to be closer.

"Fuck," Eddie cursed burying himself into you halfway, "I don't know if I'll fit, relax for me. Ok, baby? How does that feel?" He kissed your cheek and wiped a tear away.

"More, please," you dig your fingernails into Eddie's back and he laughs, relieved he wasn't hurting you. "Feels good, Eddie, need more," you scratch down his back, cherry red nails gripping onto his waist, your hips moving against his, giving you everything you asked for and more. You really weren't expecting him to be this big.

Your kiss marks all over his chest and neck he tells you "you're making a mess of me, trying to ruin me for everyone else?"

"Isn't that what you're doing too?" You smirk up at him knowingly.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Yes," you cry out, your orgasm finally hitting you in waves.

"Oh my god, Cherry," Eddie said using that cute nickname only he could call you, no one else. Keeping the same pace he held you close and soothed you through the intensity, kissing you everywhere. "Let me see your tongue," you stick your tongue out and let him spit on it and makeout until you feel him release inside of you.

Then Eddie does something you never could've seen coming, he isn't done with you yet. He finds a comfortable place for his head between your thighs, biting and sucking at the plush flesh inside your thighs, there he kisses you pussy and sucks at your clit making you shake. Licking you clean, and lapping his come out of your pussy, you watch in amazement as he winks at you while his tongue fucks your pussy, the most sinful thing you've ever seen and felt.

You wondered just how long he planned to do this, if you only really knew how long he'd thought about having you like this. The hickeys on your neck were enough to scare anyone away from his Cherry pie.

[cythiraeth]

cupid's chokehold! - i. e. the moment genshin men knew they've fallen for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x al-haitham, cyno, xiao (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: the exact moment (or process which lead to it) when genshin men knew that they are head over heels in love with you!

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, not proof-read, lighter (?) and more free form of the work this time!

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: ehe, long time no see! i'm back to life and posting, so to start i picked something that was easier to write and is slightly in a different form than my previous works, however, i hope you'll like it :> also, i'm still waiting for any work requests, so if you have any idea, feel free to messege me!!

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 1.5 k in total

 al-haitham

seeing you in a pretty, elegant outfit, probably some kind of dress or suit, maybe showing your collarbones or it just being mesmerizing,  it's up to you how you imagine a perfect fit ;) he is just PHYSICALLY UNABLE to take his eyes off you! the usually calm and collected al-haitham forgets how to use the ability to speak for a brief second.

the moment you left the room in which you were getting ready as he was waiting outside, he almost gasped out loud

i mean literally, this man's brain stopped working for a second

you two were supposed to attend tighnari's birthday party, and while he didn't consider it a occasion to wear something elegant, you did the opposite 

that's why he was left so speechless. because he was caught by surprise! he thought you would wear your casual clothes just as he did…

but it happened, you wore one of your favorite outfits for special occasions, and he was flabbergasted 

of course it's not like your look was the only reason he has fallen for you! he was definitely considering it many times before this happened, but he was living in denial.

"no, i don't actually have feelings for them. they make me feel comfortable, i crave hearing their voice or laugh and i care about them a lot, but no, we're just friends" - probably al-haitham to himself at some point in his life.

but this time, he couldn't explain his feelings in any rational way known to man. you were so stunning that his eyes shined uncontrollably when he laid them on you. he was so busy studying your silhouette, your face and your hair that he didn't even hear your first question, which was:

"and? how do i look?" you asked, opening the door but still keeping your hands on the doorframe and leaning on it. you were slightly blushed because it was quite embarrassing to let him see you like this, but if you were to be honest, you were also a little bit excited to see his reaction

so when he didn't even answer you and remained indifferent on the outside, the slightly raised corners of your mouth drooped

you just weren't aware of what he's been experiencing on the inside…

because his heart started pounding a little bit faster and he was ashamed of it but on the other hand you looked gorgeous and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what would he do if you were in relationship

(he had such a strong urge to kiss your hand like a gentleman for some reason)

"what? do i really look that bad?" you asked after you have swallowed the bitterness of your first impression

"sorry?" he said, blinking, your words drawing him out of his reverie, "did you say something?" 

you snorted, annoyed by his behavior, assuming that he probably couldn't care less about your look at the moment, but at least he should try to pretend he does 

but oh, how wrong you were…

when you repeated the question he only murmured something under his breath in response, so you decided to let him be

you noticed he got sweaty all of sudden, it was probably too hot for him inside, you thought, so you took the last things and you two left the house.

in reality, he wasn't feeling hot because of the temperature of course, but he was just as surprised by his own actions as you were. surprised in a slightly different way though….

cyno

talking with tighnari... he found all his confidence to talk to him about his possible feelings for you, that he could not recognize and tighnari was left speechless because of how innocent and lost in his feeling cyno looked

he was probably hanging out with tighnari someday, maybe they went out for a dinner, and somehow the topic of conversation has come down to you

for a long time he was hesitant to talk about his feeling towards you out loud but today he decided he'd try discussing it with his friend

because if not tighnari then who would be a suitable person? surely not you 

also, don't think that he was aware of what he's feeling. HAHA, no. he would never 

"what in your opinion y/n thinks of me…?" was his first question. he tried to choose the words carefully and say it in his normal tone but even a small sign of arousal in his voice was enough for tighnari to notice that something is up

"and why are you asking?" he wanted to make sure that his interpretation is right

"no reason in particular," his answer was quick, those words escaped his lips uncontrollably, so he had to add something "i just consider them a close friend and i want to know if they do too."

tignari almost started laughing out loud, but he controlled himself.

close friend? oh man, he is so clueless…

"are you sure that they are a "close friend?"" he was actually having some fun but at the same time he just wanted to smack himself on the forehead, he couldn't decide 

"well, definitely not a "distant friend"" 

that's it, that's the moment when tighnari smacked his forehead 

"i'll pretend i didn't hear that," he tried to be serious, but it wasn't easy. "listen, you look at them like they are your entire world. that's the kind of look people give to their lovers, not close friends!" he finally said it out loud

cyno had to blink twice to process what was just said.

he. in love. with you? 

maybe? i mean, he always cared about your opinion about his jokes the most and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you… but he thought that it's normal for friends to feel this way. and to steal glances at you person when you aren't looking, and to read every book you recommend him…

"you say so?" he finally asked, resting his chin on his hands "then maybe you're right," he admitted out loud

"FINALLY" tighnari couldn't hold it any longer… he was SO relieved that his friend won't be acting like he is running around in the fog anymore… right?

"and why are you so emotional about it?" cyno was genuinely confused (pls help this man he is often so clueless)

"because by now even collei knew"

xiao

 when you kept coming back after all of his attempts to push you away. he wanted to protect you, protect you from him, because for a human it would be better to stay away from his karmic debt, right? but when you remained determined to get closer to him no matter how many times he tried to disencourage you, he slowly realized that maybe, just maybe he can let you get closer to his heart than he ever let anyone to be.

in his case, there wasn't any particular situation that made him realize his feelings, it was rather a complex and long process (not really a chokehold then but shh…)

he knew you for several months despite of his numerous attempts of cutting any ties he had with you

it was just that… you were stubborn. but not in a regular way, no. your stubbornness was much less invasive and annoying, and it manifested in your constant willingness to get closer to him

however, you never imposed yourself nor did you try convincing him! you were just visiting wangshu inn regularly, maybe tried striking up a conversation a few times, even just sitting in silence was enough for you

and because of all those actions he never felt overwhelmed by your presence! actually, after some time, he just got used to it and secretly started liking it

however, there was always this silent voice in the back of his head that he shouldn't be doing this and that he's forgetting himself

so definitely, when he slowly started thinking of you in that way at the very beginning he was IN SUCH A BIG DENIAL that it's almost unbelievable 

alright, he admitted it to himself, but swore to N E V E R talk to anyone about it, especially and above all, to you.

he just decided to act as if those feelings didn't exist, that's all. and it went like that for quite a long time unfortunately… (at least you can be sure that he keeps his promises at all costs!!)

and after some time, when he was surprised that they didn't just go away, a certain thought crossed his mind…

he started thinking about what ifs and imagining what could happen if he theoretically decided to tell you about his feelings 

(he spent another few months on that though)

at some point he just couldn't look at you without seeing you both holding hands in his mind or stand next to you without the urge to put his hand on your shoulder (of course only in private, he would never do pda…)

but still, his karmic debt… 

he was so torn between those two thoughts (there were two wolves inside of him)

but as you expect, after months of his internal struggling, and your consistency in getting closer to him and encouraging him to open up, he let his feelings win for once in his long life

(take good care of him because he deserves it)

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 23.11.2023. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

The only fool on April Fools'

Natasha thought she came up with the best prank ever. But she forgot exactly who she was trying to prank.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.7k • Warnings: suggestive talk Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

A/N: a late birthday post from me :)

2028

Natasha could not stop looking at her hands on the steering wheel. More specifically, she couldn't stop looking at her nails. Every time they caught her eye when she went to change the song on the radio or flick her blinker, the smuggest smirk took over her entire face.

She'd been thinking long and hard about this year's prank. April Fools' Day was a serious occasion for her and Katya, a holiday they planned for for months. It started in 2010 when Natasha had been brave enough to prank her girlfriend at the time, and it developed from there. The only rule they had was that the pranks shouldn't be too humiliating. Just funny. So there was a lot of creative freedom.

This year, she really nailed it. It was hilarious. She was hilarious, and Katya was going to be so pissed. She thought Natasha had just gone to get a haircut, but she'd be getting the worst surprise of her life when she showed her what she'd actually been doing in the city.

Was it cruel? Yes. But Katya replaced all the Oreo cookie filling with toothpaste last year. Natasha's Oreo cookies. And she filled a donut with mayo. So Natasha wanted to let her feel that same pain. Only more subtly.

When she walked into the house, pushing her smirk aside for the sake of the prank, the smell of cake filled her nostrils. It smelled delicious, like chocolate and butter. A special recipe that Katya had been meaning to try. Too bad that Natasha wouldn't be eating a single piece of it, considering there was probably salt in it instead of sugar, but at least she knew where to find her darling wife. 

Prepared to feel incredibly smug and pleased, she strolled into the kitchen. Katya stood with her back turned, softly singing a song as she mixed something with the handheld electronic mixer. The noise drowned out the sound of Natasha's footsteps, so she didn't hear her come in. It only prolonged the excitement. "Smells good in here."

Katya jumped, quickly turning off the mixer. "Oh. Hi, baby!" An adoring smile spread across her lips as she turned around. Natasha almost felt bad for her upcoming prank. Almost. "Let me see your hair." A crease formed between her brows as she studied Natasha's long red locks. "It doesn't look any different," she said carefully, as if she was afraid to offend her new haircut.

Natasha smiled sheepishly, glancing down at her hands. "Yeah, well, you know… I was planning on getting my hair done, but then I passed a nail salon, and, well…" Instead of explaining, she simply brought her hands up, holding her nails out for Katya to see.

When the nail stylist asked her what shape she wanted, Natasha told her to go for the pointest, most stabby looking nail she could do, and she hadn't disappointed. Two inches long, all of them ended in a point that could seriously poke somebody's eye out. The deep red color and the black details turned them into the sexiest murder weapons she'd ever had. The sexiest, most inconvenient weapons ever. They were lowkey homophobic.

She saw the different emotions cross Katya's face one by one. Excitement, at first. Probably because she was happy Natasha spoiled herself, or she liked the nails. Then hesitation. Then realization. Then anger, which manifested with a slight twitch of her brows. And lastly…

Actually, Natasha couldn't decipher the emotion that slid over the anger. It was like Katya mentally paused before she could get really angry, and then decided on a different course. All of it happened within a second. Her brain was just that fast at assessing a situation.

An excited gasp flew from her lips. "They look so good, honey!" Katya exclaimed, carefully taking Natasha's hands in her own to see her nails better. "The design is so simple yet so elegant. It really suits you!"

Natasha inwardly frowned, her smugness plummeting. This was not the reaction she had been hoping for. Not by miles. But she wasn't giving up yet. "What do you think about the length?" She smiled, mirroring Katya's excitement. "I wanted to go even longer, but I've never had nails before so I didn't want to overdo it."

"No, I love it! It suits your hand shape really well." 

To Natasha's even bigger surprise, Katya let her hands go to grab her cheeks instead, pulling her close to press a sweet kiss to her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled joyfully. "I'm so glad you treated yourself to something nice. You deserve it."

Then she turned around and went back to making the icing for her cake. 

Natasha stood there, lost, wondering how this had gone completely the opposite way of how she wanted. Katya was supposed to be upset, asking her what she was thinking, getting long ass nails as a woman in a lesbian relationship. With those weapons on her fingers, she could not use them for her favorite activity whatsoever. 

But instead of getting pissed, Katya got the opposite. She happily sang, swaying her body as she finished mixing her icing. Not a care in the world.

Natasha's prank had dramatically failed.

"Look how good this looks." Katya suddenly turned around, a big scoop of chocolate icing on her pointer finger. Slowly, she brought it to her lips, sucking her finger into her mouth and pulling it out. "Hmm, so good," she moaned.

The very bottom part of Natasha's stomach twisted into knots. She couldn't find her words as she watched Katya lick off the icing in a way that was incredibly sensual. And not by accident.

''Yep, that's done!" She beamed. Katya covered the bowl with some foil and put it in the fridge, happily twirling around to a still frozen Natasha. ''I'm going to lift some weights. Could use a spotter.''

''I—'' Natasha mentally slapped herself, swallowing thickly. ''Sure.''

Katya perked up. ''Okay. Give me a minute to change.''

She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what those nails meant. It meant her wife was an ass. An ass who didn't want to get laid for a few weeks, apparently. 

Her first instinct was to get pissed. Get pissed at Natasha for partly ruining their sex life. Because while they owned many replacements, Natasha's fingers would always be her favorite, and they were not going up there looking like that. 

But then Katya realized that getting angry was exactly what her wife was after. And what better way to ruin a prank by pretending not to see it? In fact, she was going to throw Natasha's own prank right back at her, make her miserable. Show her that getting these nails would come back to bite her in the ass. Fast.

Nobody messed with her.

Choosing her smallest sports bra and tightest cycling shorts, Katya threw her hair up and returned to Natasha. The woman seemed to be disoriented, or at least deep in thought. She was in the exact spot Katya left her ten minutes earlier, frowning at the countertop. When she did look up, Katya purposely flexed her biceps as she tightened her ponytail, drawing Natasha's gaze directly to her arms.

Her green eyes darkened as they took in Katya's figure. Everything that wasn't bare skin was skin-tight. And while her body didn't look the way it did when she was twenty-four—duh—Natasha still thought it was hot as hell. She wanted to grab it, bend it over the counter—

''Earth to Nat.''

Natasha rapidly blinked, pulling her head out of the clouds. ''Hm?''

Katya had a huge grin on her face that she tried to hide. ''I said; are you coming?''

''Oh, yes.''

She didn't even try to not stare at Katya's ass as the brunette walked in front of her. It was right there, shaking in those spandex shorts. The urge to grab it and press her nails—oh. With a frown, Natasha looked down at her pointy nails. She couldn't grab Katya's butt and press the top of her nails down at the same time.

''Hmm…'' Katya stopped in the doorframe of the garage—their home gym. ''What do you reckon I should do first?''

''Ass.'' Natasha was just in time to bring her gaze upwards when Katya spun around, staring straight into her raised eyebrow. Her cheeks heated up when she realized what her half-horny brain had thrown out. ''I meant squats.''

''Squats it is.'' Katya smiled.

Even the process of setting it all up drove Natasha up the wall. To get the weights on the bar, Katya had to lift them, and because she barely wore a shirt, her back, shoulder, and arm muscles visibly flexed for Natasha to see. Her hands itched, but she suspected Katya was playing a game, and she wasn't going to give in.

They both weren't going to give in. So it was going to be a game of who can hold out the longest.

If things progressed this way, Natasha was one hundred percent sure she was going to lose.

''Okay.'' Katya excessively bent over to put her resistance band down. She'd warmed her muscles—doing some very deep deep squats—and secured her ponytail once more. ''I'm ready.''

Natasha knew it was going to be a mistake when she stepped behind Katya. She knew she was digging her own grave. The brunette pressed her ass into her front and flexed her muscles way more than necessary as she adjusted her grip on the bar resting on her shoulders. Natasha clenched her jaw to keep still and quiet, but the frustration started to build. 

Down Katya went for the first squat, pausing a few seconds before she went up again. Natasha squatted along with her, forcing herself to pay attention to the bar and only the bar. She wondered if she could even close her hands around it in case Katya needed her help. Those damn claws of her were probably in the way. 

She was about to breathe out in relief when Katya didn't pull any stunts on the way up. 

Then she let out the sexiest grunt ever. 

Natasha nearly collapsed through her knees. Dirty memories of times where Katya grunted like that flashed through her head. Half an hour of teasing and she was on the very edge of damning it all to hell. Screw her dignity. She wanted something else to screw, and fast.

Down, Katya went again, audibly breathing out as she went down, and grunting when she straightened up. Down, breathing out. Up, grunting. 

Three times, Natasha kept herself together with great difficulty. On the forth grunt, her sexual frustration snapped.

''Put it down.''

Katya smirked to herself. She expected her wife to keep it together a bit longer, but obviously her plan was working. ''What? Why? I've just started,'' she said innocently, pretending to be extremely confused the same way she'd been pretending to be stupid.

''Put the thing down.''

Carefully, Katya racked the bar, furrowing her brows as she turned to face the fuming redhead. Before she could blink, Natasha had her pinned against one of the squat rack's poles. She felt all that frustration in the way her spine bumped against the metal. ''What's going on?'' Her eyes widened like that of a deer in headlights.

''Stop playing dumb.''

''Playing dumb?''

Natasha took one good look at her and knew she wasn't going to give in. Katya could play the innocent persona as long as she wished to, no matter what threat Natasha would sling at her head. Torture training as a kid clearly worked better for her. The only thing she had to do was grunt a bit and Natasha was a goner.

A groan of frustration filled the garage. This was cruelty in the most ruthless way. Dangling the richest, most tasteful, most expensive wine in front of an alcoholic but not letting them have a taste. Collecting all her self-control, Natasha backed away, stalking off without so much as another word.

Katya snickered proudly, smirking as she turned back to the squat rack. Her plan was going amazingly so far. These weren't the only tricks up her sleeve. 

The torture continued throughout the day. She was doing the dishes? She accidentally got the front of her shirt all wet, and didn't happen to wear a bra. The dinner table needed a good clean? She was bent all over that thing trying to get the spots in the middle. She was vacuuming? She was on her hands and knees on the floor trying to vacuum underneath the couch.

Wherever Natasha went, she also miraculously had to be. The redhead could not escape her. It was torture training. But in a way she'd never been tortured before.

The weapons on her hands had gone from ''the funniest things ever'' to ''I'm going to rip my whole nail off if it means I get to stuff my hand down her pants''. She couldn't take it anymore. Sexual frustration built and built until her stomach was in a permanent knot and her hands were constantly sweaty.

Two hours before Maya was meant to be coming home, Natasha couldn't take it anymore. The groans, grunts, and sighs, and the positions Katya bent her body in finally pushed her over the edge. 

Fine, her wife had won. But taking a hit to her ego and pride was worth it if she could finally get her hands between those legs.

She didn't even bother soaking her nails off. She simply took nail cutters to them and cut them all off as short as possible. Then she filed them down roughly, paying extra attention to the middle three fingers of her left hand, and tossed everything in the trash.

Katya heard her coming from miles away, her rushed footsteps before Natasha cornered her in the laundry room. She saw them immediately; her nails. Or the lack thereof. 

Concerned, she dropped a t-shirt back in the laundry basket, trying to reach for her hands. ''Oh, no, what did you do to your nails?''

But Natasha wasn't taking this innocent bullshit anymore. ''You drive me absolutely nuts. You pest,'' she grumbled. Her voice lacked serious anger as she slowly backed Katya up against the washing machine. Instead, it was laced with reluctant defeat and annoyance. Annoyance at herself.

A sly smile overtook Katya's features as she gripped the edge of the machine for stability. It looked like her wife had been through it. ''Ready to admit you made a mistake then?''

''I hate you.'' 

Katya chuckled softly. ''You dug your own grave, babe. Worst prank ever. Well, for you then. It was so much fun for me.'' She smirked teasingly as she slowly trailed her fingers up Natasha's arm. The game was still going on. Even now. The glare Natasha sent her was weak at most. ''Don't forget who you're messing with.'' 

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning forward to connect their lips, thinking this was it. But Katya jerked her head back, amusement swimming in her eyes. 

''Nuh-uh. Say it.''

''Say it?'' The redhead grumbled impatiently, seconds away from throwing a fit. 

Katya nodded smugly, her fingers slowly trailing down Natasha's arm. ''I need to hear it. I…''

Natasha clenched her teeth together to swallow back the vile words and accusations that Katya would only laugh at. She didn't think she would be this cruel, giving her dignity another slap in the face by making her vocally admit her mistake like a child. Unfortunately, Natasha didn't have another option. 

She squinted her eyes, placing as much displeasure in her words as she could. ''I made a mistake thinking I could outsmart my mean, cruel wife.''

Happy, Katya grinned, grabbing Natasha's hips to pull them flush against her own. This victory tasted sweeter than her chocolate cake downstairs. She won April Fools'. And she didn't even have to do anything for it. ''You know, it's really not my fault you get so riled up.''

Natasha usually loved to bicker, but she couldn't take it anymore. Her gaze kept drifting down from Katya's eyes to her lips when she talked, and if she wouldn't get her mouth or hands on her body right this instant, she was going to explode. ''Respectfully, shut up. You had your fun, now it's time for mine.''

''Yeah, those nails aren't going up there looking like that.''